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hahahahahangst · 2 years

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1,2,3 Medicines (Be The Young Part 13)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault*

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

1,2,3 medicines

1, 2, 3 Medicines in my handbag In the morning I wake up and I already feel like Looking for my calm

“Are you sure you want to come?” Said Dean as Emily frantically packed her stuff, going back and forth in Bobby’s house and looking for the things that were, after all those weeks, scattered everywhere.

“Yes, yes, I am sure! Stop asking that.”

“We didn’t even leave yet and she’s already freaked out.” Whispered Sam in Dean’s ear.

“Sam, I can read your mind, what makes you think I would not hear that?!” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean giggled at him, mocking him for being caught like that. Emily, instead, scowled at them from across the room. “I am not staying here as Dean shoots a random guy.”

“I will not shoot a random guy!” He tried to argue.

“That’s not what my vision said, Dean.” Emily finally zipped shut her bag. “What, it’s just one hunt! What could possibly go wrong?”

“Countless things.” Said Dean, following her as she walked out the door. “Emily, I really don’t think you should come.”

“Dean.” She said, sarcastically walking towards him. “I am mentally unstable and I have several guns in my bag. Do you really wanna argue with me?” She showed the most sarcastically crazy smile she could.

“Alright, alright, but you do not do anything by yourself. You are glued to my back, alright? I wanna keep an eye on you.” Emily nodded and made her way into the car. It was weird being back there after all those weeks of forced break. She took a second to smell the familiar beer and sweat scent and then made herself comfortable.

“So, again, what was the vision about?” Asked Dean, turning on the engine.

“Well, we were in a room with other people. One of them looked like a nurse… the blonde one, right?” Said Emily, trying to get yet another confirmation that she and Sam had the same vision. He nodded. “And then there was a guy tied up and you shot him.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that, which is weird because…” She hesitated a second. “Usually these visions are tied to the demon, you know, but there was no such thing.”

“I mean, I am sure the guy had it coming.”

“I hope so.” Said Sam. The car went silent for a second as Emily tried to decipher why Sam thought Dean would kill an innocent man.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Asked Dean. “I wouldn’t waste an innocent man.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t!”

“I never said you would!” Answered back Sam, looking away.

“Fine.”

“Fine… Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine.”

Emily looked alternatively behind the two of them, taking the hint that there was some tension between the two brothers. A tension she could not explain. She reached Sam telepathically.

Sam, did something happen that I don’t know about?

Apparently, dad made a deal with the demon to bring back Dean

“HE DID WHAT?!” She inadvertently screamed, making Dean jump in his seat, the car losing his straight course for a second. He was about to scold her but she was faster. “And you didn’t think I would have liked to know?” Dean looked even more confused.

“What are you even talking about?!” “Dad.” Said Sam.

“Holy- So you do your freaky mind games behind my back now?”

Emily blinked twice, trying to gather the patience to now answer in a way that would have been considered mean. She tried to channel the version of her who was baking pies just a couple of weeks prior. What would she have said?

“It’s alright, we don’t have to talk about it.” She announced, leaning back in the seat.

“What?” Said Sam in disbelief. “No- No, we do have to talk about it.” He turned to Emily, who had already taken on another way to pass the time, unwilling to fight with Dean on her very first day back.

“Look, it would be really hypocritical of me to ask Dean to talk about his feelings. If he doesn’t want to talk about it - and he clearly doesn’t - we don’t have to.” She finally said. She kicked away her shoes.

“I like this.” Said Dean. “So…” he said. “What makes you so sure it’s Oregon?”

“Let me remind you, I am from Portland. I’ve literally been to Rivergrove on a school trip.”

“Yes, another reason why you should not have come with us. What if you meet some school friends?”

“I will… say hi to them?” She said, trying to find a book in her bag.

“What if they are hurt?”

Emily stopped her search to look at Dean. “Dean, everything will be alright.”

He sighed. “I should not have let you come.”

“You know, I wanted to come. It’s only one hunt, I will go back to Bobby's right after.”

“You better be right.”

About 10 hours later, they stopped for gas and to eat. Emily sat on the hood of the car and Sam quickly joined her. He offered her a bite of his salad. She tasted it and nodded. “It’s kind of good for rabbit food.”

“Right?” He smiled and kept eating. “So, what do you think we are going towards?”

“I mean…” she took a bite of her hamburger. “Duane kept saying ‘it’s not in me’, so I guess demon possession?”

“Who?”

“D-” Emily interrupted suddenly, realizing she fucked up. “The guy we saw.”

“Emily, do you… know the guy?” She tried to procrastinate, but Sam was not having it. “Emily?”

“Oh my god, you do.” Said Sam. “And don’t even try to deny it, I can literally see it all.” He pointed at his head, making a disgusted grimace.

“Sam, get out of my head!” She said, blushing to the realization of how explicit the last memory that came to her mind was.

“Stop thinking about that!” Laughed Sam, awkward, jokingly pushing Emily from the shoulder.

“You stop looking!” She answered with another fake push. “Or I'll make you wear the salad as a hat!” For a split second, they seemed to have forgotten they were about to argue. While they laughed, Emily tried to hit the bottom of the salad to throw it on Sam, but he was faster and after moving the salad away, he made her smash her face in her burger. She was cleaning her face from the mayo and ketchup mix when Dean came back and smiled, seeing that they were having fun together.

“What is happening?” When Dean spoke, Sam seemed to be roused from the jokes and immediately went serious again.

“Emily slept with the guy you are about to shoot!”

“I didn’t sleep with him-”

“You… what?!” Exclaimed Dean, the smile immediately leaving his face. “I knew it… I knew something didn’t add up.” He leaned on her, closing the 20 cm gap that divided their heights and pointing to her chest. “You really are something else. I should lock you up in a motel room.”

“I’ll go out the window.” She said, scrunching her nose.

“It’s a two floor motel.”

“I will climb down.” She smiled, satisfied.

“Emily, I am not kidding.”

“Neither am I.” She said, finally taking a step back and taking her backpack back from the top of the car. “I am part of this, whether you want it or not.”

Dean followed her around the car. “What are you going to do, stop me?” She said, turning back with a hand already on the door handle. “Leave me here? Dude, I drive recklessly and I just chugged three energy drinks.” She said, smiling, knowing full well her brother would never leave her behind in a random city.

Dean looked at her aggressively for a couple more seconds before rolling his eyes and entering the car. Sam approached Emily. "Do I have to explain again to you where all these fights are coming from or…"

"Shut up."

They both entered the car and continued the journey towards Oregon.

Dean spoke a couple of hours later. "So, how many people from the vision do you know?"

Emily sighed, resigning to the fact that it was too late to hide anything. "All of them…"

"And you didn't think it was important?!"

"Just like you didn't think telling me about dad was important?!"

“That’s different!”

Emily took a big breath. "Okay, you know what?" She said, trying to hold back all the things she would have loved to say to Dean. "We have bigger issues than whether I used to date one of the victims or not."

"Right." He said in the most passive aggressive way Emily could bear.

"Right." She answered back. Emily felt Sam's gaze on the back of her head.

What?! She reached him telepathically.

He's just worried about you, Emily.

Then why doesn't he just say so?

Because-

I swear to god if you start that shrink crap again I will start screaming.

Yeah, "shrink crap", that's exactly how Dean called it as well!

Because that's what it is!

The journey went on smoothly. They decided to stop in Portland for the night and then drive to Rivergrove the following morning. Once they got into town, Emily started to feel more and more anxious about meeting someone she knew and she soon decided to go back to her room. It was almost midnight when Dean knocked on her door. She opened it and found him holding two beers in his hands, one of them lemon flavored.

"Everyone is sleeping, wanna go take a look around?" She smiled and took the beer. They started strolling through Portland: Emily would walk Dean through the staples of her childhood: her school, her kindergarten, the park where she used to play and where her house used to be. It was only a building still under construction. It was as if nothing had ever happened there, but to her, it was all still so vivid.

"Up there" she pointed. "Used to be my room, and right next to it, Alex's" She sat on the curb in front of the house. She looked down at her hands, permanently scarred from the fire. "It was the most painful thing I have ever felt, taking him out of his crib while it was on fire. He was on fire. That burning sensation and… the smell. It's something I will never forget." She wasn't sure why she would talk about that with Dean.

"Do you want to leave?" Said Dean, who had sat down next to her.

"No, it's alright. It's just…" She looked at Dean, remembering how she felt in the hospital.

"When I got into the hospital with Alex, he was dying. Doctors went back and forth, kept running tests, changing dressings… Until they stopped coming. One of them told me I had to be ready, that I had to be strong." She dried her face with the back of her hand, trying to hide the fact she was crying. "And then-" she tried to conceal a sob. "Then I saw you and you were dying, just like Alex and…" She hid her face between her knees, hiding from her brother’s sight. She felt Dean's arm wrap her, tentatively. At first it was a new kind of interaction that Emily was not used to, not with Dean at least. But the more she cried, the more she felt the need to embrace it. However, Dean broke the hug before she could act on her thoughts. They both cleared their throat. Emily dried her face once more and stood up. "I guess it's getting kind of late"

"Head back to the motel?" Asked Dean, also standing up. On their way back, they finished their beer.

She nodded and they walked back, going through the same places they saw on their way there.

"Are you alright?" Asked Dean when they arrived back at the motel.

"Sure." Emily rummaged in her pockets for the key to her room. She finally found it and opened the door. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Right." Answered the man. Emily closed the door, took a shower, and went straight to bed.

She woke up with someone knocking on her door. She opened it with one eye still closed and found Sam. “Are you ready?”

“Do I look like I am ready?” She sighed, finally opening her other eye. “Come in, I’ll be ready in five minutes.” She left the door open and Sam sat on her bed. “Are you still sure you want to come?”

“I mean… It’s too late to back up now, right? Besides, it’s good to be back in action.” She threw her shirt over her head and then noticed Sam looked very nervous, his leg bouncing up and down the floor. “Sam, is everything alright?” He suddenly stopped bouncing his leg and it looked like he had come out of a trance. Emily had finished changing, she took her bag and they left. They drove into Rivergrove.

“You see that guy?” Pointed Emily. “He was in the vision.” Sam nodded. “His name is Mark. He used to be in the military.” Dean was about to leave the car, fake badge ready to be shown off, when Emily dragged him back in. “Wait. I can’t use this badge!” She threw her badge back in the box.

“Why?”

“It says ‘Agent Monica Jones’, he knows me.” Dean stopped and thought for a second.

“I got this. You follow my lead.” He went back out of the car and Emily followed him, making sure she stayed behind both of them.

“Good morning” said Dean to the man, who sat on a bench cleaning a rifle.

“Morning.” Answered Mark, stern and cold just like Emily remembered him to be. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, yeah.” Dean and Sam pulled out their badges. “Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard. U.S. Marshals. This is Emily, our newest entry, I think you might already know her.” They moved sideways, revealing her.

“Hey Mark.” She said, hoping for a moderate reaction from the man. Instead, he stood up, placing the rifle on the bench behind him.

“Emily?!” He said, surprised. “ I haven’t seen you since… What happened to you?”

“You know, I needed some time off after… after the incident.” She looked at Sam and Dean, already regretting coming back there. “Listen, we are looking for the Tanner’s.”

“What for? The kids in trouble?” Mark finally sat back down.

“No, no, it’s…” she looked at Dean, not sure what to say.

“It’s just routine sir.” He finally concluded, with a quaint smile.

“They still live in the same house, up Aspen Way.”

They thanked the man and left. He watched them walk away, frowning.

“He did not buy anything we’ve said.” Whispered Emily, worried. Sam was about to answer but he stopped in the middle of the road, reading an incision on a telephone pole. Emily approached it as well.

CROATOAN

“That’s not good.” She said, exchanging a worried gaze with Sam. Dean looked confused.

“Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?” Said Sam.

“Dean, the first English colony? Wiped out mysteriously?” Emily started to walk again.

“Ah… yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.” Finally Dean realized.

“I’m calling Bobby, maybe he knows more about this.” Emily took out her phone and started dialing the man’s number, but soon realized there was no service. “I got no service.”

Dean and Sam looked at their phones and frowned. “Right.” Emily approached a public phone, but, as expected, there was no service.

“The line is dead.” Concluded Emily. “We are on our own.”

Later, they started driving towards Tanner's house. “So, you know these people well?”

“Yeah, Dean, I told you, Duane and I used to be together.”

“Wanna do the honors of speaking with them?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“I mean, what would spook them more, an old friend coming to visit or three US marshals looking for their son?”

“Alright…” She said, going out of the car. She walked up the slope and knocked on the door.

Duane’s brother, Jake, opened the door.

“Hey Jake,” said Emily. The guy seemed startled. “How are you doing?” He hesitated. Emily thought that maybe he did not remember her or something like that. “It’s Emily, I used to be your brother’s girlfriend?” He finally came out of his trance and answered.

“Oh- Hey! What are you doing here?” He said, politely.

“I was in the area and thought I would come to visit… Is Duane around?”

“He… he’s not, he’s on a fishing trip.” From inside the house, Emily heard the familiar voice of Mr Tanner, who soon came to the door. She was stuck chatting with them for way too long for her liking, but finally she was able to get back to the car, bringing with her a feeling that something was not right.

"So?"

"I don't know…" She said, not entering the car just yet. "Something doesn't feel right. I literally disappeared from their lives without any explanation, they are way too happy to see me."

"Let's go take a look," said Dean, struggling to exit the car and charging his gun. Emily and Sam did the same. They marched in the back of the house. Dean took a peek through the curtains and then ducked under the window.

"Alright." He said, a worried look on his face. "Me and Sam are gonna go in, you wait here and shoot at anything that comes through."

"Not at us" added Sam, winking at Emily. She smiled at him, taking place under the living room window.

Dean gave them a "we don't have time for this" face and then he proceeded to kick down the door. Emily didn't have much time to process what was happening when she heard one gunshot and someone jumped out of the window above her. She soon realized how unfortunate of a position she was in as she was showered with glass shards and was unable to shoot at the person running away from jerl .

Dean came out of the house running and found her trying to shake off the glass who had cut her all over her face and arms.

Pam, the nurse, reacted in a much more realistic way to Emily's sudden reappearance.

"We thought you were dead!" She said while Dean walked past them with Mr Tanner on his shoulder. She was locking Emily in a tight hug.

"I know, I…" Emily sighed. "I needed to start fresh, you know." She saw Dean gesturing at her behind Pam.

"So, how did you end up training to become a marshal?" Asked the girl, finally letting go of Emily. "I thought you wanted to become a doctor."

"I-..." Emily struggled to find and answer that would satisfy her old friend as well as not tell her the truth. "I decided to follow my father's steps."

"Your father?" She looked surprised. "Did you find out who he is?"

"Yeah, he- he died a few weeks ago."

"Oh my god, Emily, that's awful." She said, drawing her into another unsolicited hug. Emily patted the girl on the back.

"Thank you Pam," she said. "Listen, I need to go speak with my… colleagues, okay?"

Emily managed to join Sam and Dean. They seemed upset.

"Any luck?" They asked.

"Nothing, just condolences and regret. What about you?"

"We have no idea. I am going to the closest town, I'll try my luck with the phones. Sam, you stay here. You, instead…" He looked between Emily and his brother, trying to decide whether he wanted to bring her along or not. “...Nah. you are coming with me.” He concluded. "I am still not convinced you should be here." She rolled her eyes but followed him out of the building, secretly happy to not have to interact with her old life anymore. Dean started driving and they traveled in silence.

"I should not have come." Admitted Emily. "It's weird to be here…"

Dean didn't answer her, but he just kept driving. "These people thought me dead. They had moved on. I just-"

"You wanted to come back here. I get it." Finally answered Dean. "You probably should have chosen a better time. Now be careful."

In front of them a roadblock was getting closer and closer as they approached it. She recognized some of the locals guarding it and among them, there was Jake. When a man approached their car, she loaded her gun, ready to shoot.

"Sorry, road's closed." Said the man.

"I can see that, what's wrong?"

"Quarantine."

"For what?"

"I don't know. County sheriff called."

"Oh, really?" said Dean, sarcastic.

"Say, why don't you come out here, we'll talk a little." The man tried to convince Dean, who quickly gazed back at Emily suggestively.

What followed was very quick. Dean refused to get out of the car and the guy suddenly became aggressive. Dean switched to reverse and started driving away, the man at road block holding on to him. Emily used her left hand to move Dean out of the way, pinning him against the seat, aimed and quickly shot the stranger. His head exploded in a gory mess that she was sure Dean would complain about later.

Half covered in blood, they started driving back to the clinic.

About halfway there, a man stopped them, pointing a gun at him. It was the same guy they met that morning, Mark. He was upset, verging on paranoid, but allowed for them to drive him to the clinic, to shelter themselves. It was the tenser journey Emily had ever experienced. Mark kept aiming his gun at Emily and she pointed hers at him, as Dean made sure to keep Mark in his target as well, despite being busy driving.

When Sam saw their bloody state, he became very alarmed.

"What happened?!" Dean and Emily waited for Mark to walk away from them before answering.

"They blocked the road." Said Emily, still slightly upset about her first victim in a long time. She had not shot anything in a long time, her last attempt being the demon, when she missed. "Did you find out anything?"

"Doc thinks it's a virus."

"Okay and what do you think?" Said Dean, cleaning his face with his shirt.

"I think she's right. I think they are trying to infect other people with blood to blood contact."

The trio went silent. Emily looked at Dean. He was not wounded. Her, on the other side, had been showered in glass earlier and now she had been showered in blood.

"I am sorry, but at this point I can only agree with Dean. You should not have come." Said Sam, frowning, quickly catching up on what was happening. Dean took an extra second. Emily was sure he would scream at her, but they were distracted by Mark's voice, alarmingly announcing that they had an infected person in the building. Dean looked at Emily, then at Sam, suggestively. Whatever that gesture meant was not for Emily to understand. Sam nodded and he walked her towards an empty room. “I don’t think you should be around for now.”

“Wait- what?!” She said, stopping in the middle of the doorstep.

“Listen, you might be infected, we-” they stopped talking, hearing some arguing on the other side of the clinic. “...Emily. They will try to kill you.”

“Sam, no.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

A gunshot took Emily by surprise and she shut her eyes, startled, instinctively grabbing on Sam’s flannel. She took a big breath, trying to ground herself.

“Are you alright?” Asked Sam, gently unclenching her hand from his shirt.

“No.” She said, her eyes still closed, now holding to the door.

Emily felt Sam’s arms around her. It was something that could not be recreated. She let him hug her and the calm spread in her body. “Sam, I don’t want to turn into a monster.” She whispered.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He answered. “We’ll sort this out, I swear, but for now… Stay away from Mark, okay?” He was about to close the door and leave, but someone came knocking on the glass door to their left, urgently screaming for help. Sam opened it while Emily was still at the same doorstep. She focused on the figure Sam was letting in and recognized Duane. He quickly gazed at her before thanking Sam. Two seconds later, he looked back at her, surprised. "Wait- Emily?!"

The girl didn't have the time to raise a hand to say hello to him, that he was already hugging her way too tight. As typical of him.

"Right- Good to see you too, Duane." She patted him on the back.

"What are you doing here?!"

"You know, I-"

"And what is going on?"

"I-"

Emily did not have the chance to answer any of his questions. Dean and Mark quickly came to the door as well and concluded he was wounded and probably infected.

While they were all leaving, discussing what to do, Sam gave her a light push inside the room and closed the door behind him.

At that point, she was almost sure of it: she was infected. She would turn into a monster and would have to be put down like a sick animal.

The previous three years all she had done was kill monsters. If something was not natural, she would kill it. No hesitation.

And she was becoming one of the things she most dreaded.

One of the monsters that took her life away.

Emily ignored Sam's voice in her head. Never like in that moment she wished she could just turn it off.

All she wanted was to turn back time. She would have not shot that guy.

She would have stood somewhere different.

She would have avoided the glass.

She would have let Dean hug her.

She would have stayed home, accepting Dean's suggestion.

Dean.

She was unsure how the absolute last person she wanted to be friendly with was actually becoming such a big part of her life.

How much could just seeing him slowly die change things?

And why was he not picking up on any of that?

He was the same as always, more angry even. It was her who had changed, he just got angrier. Except for the previous night, when he actually tried to hug her.

Would he kill her if she turned? Would he do it as easily as he shot the woman? In the room next to hers, something was going on: she heard some indistinguishable arguing.

The panic slowly started to make its way in Emily's body. She knew, she knew the moment of turning was coming, and that if she wanted to stop it, she would have to kill herself right then and there.

It would not have been difficult, she had a gun on her.

Then why was she hesitating? If it was a monster in front of her, she would not have hesitated.

She looked at the weapon. For the first time ever, she observed all the details, all the incisions. She saw her distorted reflection in the metal. She almost lost the grip as a sharp, intense pain went through her upper chest, as if someone was cutting her. A couple of seconds later, she heard three gunshots and everything went quiet again.

That was it.

The vision came true.

She didn't hear anybody's voice until Dean opened the door. She was leaning on the side of a bookshelf, which meant when they first came through the door, they didn’t see her.

She didn't care enough to show up or make her presence known, still on the verge of crying and holding her gun.

She heard Dean reveal to the doctor that they were not marshals, a couple more words. Then, the door closed.

Emily heard someone sniff.

"Wish we had a deck of cards or something." Said Dean's voice.

"Dean, don't do this." Sighed Sam, revealing to Emily who was crying. "Just get the hell out of here."

"No way."

Emily was struggling to understand what was going on. She heard gunshots, which meant that Dean had killed Duane. Unless she had missed something.

"Dean, I am sick." Said Sam. Emily almost broke down crying.

"Welcome to the club" She sighed, finally making herself noticeable, her breath shaky and barely controlled.

"Who- Holy Christ Emily, how long have you been here?" Dean seemed startled by her presence. Almost as if he had forgotten about her.

"Been a while." She said, answering to Dean. "So, how did it happen? Was Duane infected?"

"Well, no," he said. "I didn't shoot him."

"So who did you…"

"Pam." concluded Sam, showing her a deep cut on his upper chest: the same place she felt the pain earlier.

"So that's what it was," She said, touching herself in the same place. She finally stood up and sat on a table next to Sam. "I mean, Sam is not wrong, Dean, you should probably go."

Sam looked at her, upset. "You should leave as well!"

"We still do not know whether I am really infected or not." She started nervously going up and down with her leg. Sam soon put a hand on her thigh to stop her. She crossed her legs.

"I am not going anywhere." Said Dean, taking place under the window.

"Do you realize that-"

"YES!" He snapped. "Yes I do!" Emily pushed herself away from the table she was leaning on and challengingly walked towards him. Dean did the same.

"Then just leave!" She approached him.

"I don't want to!"

Emily’s anger suddenly turned into confusion. She looked at Dean and tilted her head, as if she was looking for something. She squinted, trying to find a reason he would behave that way. She remembered the time he slapped her because she said that if she died, he would not have cared about it. All her body was urging him to slap him the same exact way.

"Emily, don't." Said Sam, a couple of steps behind her. She raised her hands, resigning, and went back to her table. It was not a good time to fight. "Dean, what's going on?" Asked Sam.

"I'm tired, Sam, '' he said, also sitting back down and taking out his gun, placing it on the table. "I'm tired of this job, this life… And before you ask…" he said, pointing at his brother. “No, this is not about dad.”

Emily shook her head and jumped down off the table again.

"Emily, please-"

"Shut up, Sam." she said, not letting him finish. For a second, she felt how hurt Sam was at her words, but she ignored it. She already had her own emotions to feel and their weird connection was not going to hold her back.

She marched over to Dean. "You are one fake bastard, you know that?" She grabbed him by his shirt and had him stand up. He quickly set himself free, but Emily pushed him against a wall, knocking down two or three decorations. "What, all this time pretending I am the messed up one, and you just try and kill yourself like this?"

"I-"

"No, there is no ‘I’, there is not ‘but’. JUST GET OUT OF THIS ROOM!"

"No."

Emily raised her eyebrows and dragged him halfway through the room before throwing him towards the door. "It was not a question. You don't get to kill yourself after everything that's happened. I am not going to let you just lay down and die."

"And how will you do that, exactly? "

Emily was already raising her fist, with all the intentions of punching her brother cold.

"Enough now!" Said Sam as he grabbed her arms and dragged her back. "Do you really want to fight right now?"

"This is not the time for your Ghandi shit, Sam." She said, fighting to set herself free.

"Yes, yes it is! What, are you both going to die without ever getting over this?"

Emily finally turned around towards Sam. "What are you talking about?"

"This… thing you have going on where you are always mad at each other"

"Didn't you hear? He's-" Tried to justify Emily. Dean just shook his head. "He's what? Uh?" Sam started to sound exasperated. “Come on, just-” At that very moment, the door of the room opened, the doctor quietly getting in.

19 notes · View notes

curlynerd · 3 years

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You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #katie writes things #this is either the best thing I've written or the worst thing I've ever written. possibly both #I'm very sorry for making you read the bit about the fried egg

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam.

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration.

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas.

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

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athenamikaelson · 3 years

Text

Younger Me

Dean Winchester x Reader

Rundown- Dean has feelings for you. But won’t own up to them because of an age gap, so he decides to give you a hint in a different way. Telling you how much younger him would’ve liked you.

Warnings- Age gap, suggestive language, Dean not knowing how to own up to his feelings

Word Count- 1324

NFA- This was supposed to be like 400 words, short and cute, BUT i got taken away so um just be careful and don’t hate me! lol.

“Younger me would’ve liked you.” Dean says as he sips his beer while glancing at the laptop in front of him. I stopped my research on the new case Sam told me to look into. Looking up to Dean he acts as if he didn’t say anything, eyes plastered on his bottle.

“What did you just say?” Dean just looks at me with a blank look before responding.

“I just said that younger me would’ve liked you.” Dean shrugs his shoulders as if he just said the most basic thing.

I place my hand over my heart in a mocking way, “Wow man, and I thought you actually liked me now. Shit’s crazy.” Dean’s eyes slightly widen and he puts his bottle on the table and gives me his full attention.

“No that’s not what I meant Y/n. What I mean is that well I like you now you know. You’re my friend. But, um,” He pauses and scratches his neck, something I’ve noticed he does when he’s nervous, “well just that younger me would’ve, really liked you.” He explains with an emphasis on really.

“Wait what do you mean,” I stop and the confused look on my face turns to a smirk, “ohhhhh. Younger you would’ve liked me, liked me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I look to Dean with a slight glare. He just shrugs his shoulders before taking a long sip of his beer.

“Oh you know, because you are so close in age or whatever.” He says with a slight edge to his voice and looks at me with a strange look in his eyes, but in which quickly disappears.

“Dean you ass! I’m a grown woman! An adult! Just because you’re an old man, doesn’t mean I’m a child.” A hurt look crosses Dean’s face and he mutters something about him not being that old.

Deciding to play with him I continue with the discussion. “So why exactly would a younger you absolutely love me?” Dean rolls his eyes and goes back to drinking his beer. And I take the bottle away from him much against his will.

“Tell me Deany. You started this idea. Now I want to know. Why. Would. You. Love me?” Dean subtly bites his bottom lip in thought and I have to stop the blush from coming to my face.

“Fine ok. Well,” He stops talking and stands up from his chair and walks over to my side of the table stopping right beside me, towering over me. His eyes never leave mine.

“Younger me, was a dog so if you don’t want me to go further tell me.” A slight gruff to his voice as his eyes darken. My breath practically catches in my throat at his stare and all I do is nod for him to continue.

I’d hoped that he wouldn’t notice my reaction but telling from the smirk on his lips, my luck has run out. His eyes rake over my body as they stop at my legs.

“Stand up.” He looks up at me expectly. I feel as if I’m on auto-pilot as I stand at his command.

“Good-girl.” Oh good lord.

“Well first he’d notice your legs. I mean what man wouldn’t. He’d see you and his eyes would instantly go to those god damn legs. Not just the way they lead up to that perky ass, but the way they hold you. He’d notice the way they help you carry yourself. You have purpose with your walk. And fuck Y/n, it makes his breath stop everytime he’d see you.”

Dean looks at me and I don’t even want to know how I look because I can tell I look hella flustered right now.

“He’d then notice your other assets. But, He may have been a dog but he does have manners. He wouldn’t spend too much time looking at them. But he still is a young guy and you’re well you. So he’d find himself lost up in you sometimes.” His eyes roam my body and land on my hair. He slowly moves closer, his eyes scanning my body as if to access my body language. When he notices my shoulder relax he comes closer and brings a hand to my hair.

“He’d lose his mind with your hair. He’d dream about running his hands through it. Imagine the way just enough pressure would cause you,” He stops mid sentence and lets out a low breath, “as I was saying. He’d love the color, he’d think God himself had picked out the color to match you. He’d imagine that one day your children would share that color.” I bring in a deep breath as he brings his hand to my face. Him no doubting being able to feel the warmth from my cheeks on his palm.

“He’d stop at your face. He’d just stand there and admire your features the whole day if he could.” He stops as a small smile graces his lips and his eyes show almost a loving look.

“He’d grace his hands on your cheeks all day if he could, he’d just want to be able to memorize every feature, just in case he ever lost you. He’d want to lose himself in your eyes as well if he could. And god does he. They’d haunt his dreams from the moment you met.” His gaze drips down to my lips next and his thumb comes to graze over my bottom lip.

“He’d love your lips, not because of the way they'd feel on him but the way they’d move when you smiled or laughed. And oh god y/n. He’d feel as if he’d died and gone to heaven every time he heard your laugh. It’d be his biggest reason to get up in the morning. With just the hope that he’d be able to hear you. Or if he could just get you to smile, he’d be able to die a happy man if that was his last sight.”

He stops talking and leans away from me and looks down at his hands in disgust. I flinch back at his change in demeanor and go to ask what’s wrong but he starts talking again.

“He’d love you Y/n. And he’d hate himself for it. He’d hate himself because he would always try to make himself a better man because everyone knows you deserve more. He’d know that you deserved someone who could make you laugh everyday, because he’d know how much you love to laugh. He’d try his hardest to show emotions because as much as he knows that you hate love, he secretly knows you love it more.”

He bends down and looks at me with a sad look on his face and brings his hand back up to my face.

“And Y/n he’d know he’d never be good enough for you because no could ever be enough for you. Because you deserve everything that the world can possibly give to you. The way you light up the room when you walk in, or the way you make me feel as if I don’t need to hate myself for my past.” He stops when he notices his mistake in words. But I don’t even notice because I’m still processing everything he’s telling me. Dean looks away from me and says with a low breath, “But he’d still love you with everything he will ever have.” I go to lean into him. Trying to catch his hands in mine but he leans back and stands up.

He dusts invisible dirt off his shirt and a stoic look crosses his face. And he looks back down at me. The loving look which was once on his face now long gone.

“But that would be younger me. Not me now.” And he stands and walks away. Him knowing that is what he needed to do.

Taglist- @akshi8278

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #sam winchester imagine #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural rp #supernaturaledit #Author #athenamikaelson

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

Text

Love of my Life - (3) Movie Night

Summary: Y/N and Nick find a way to fill their free time, followed by a movie night.

Warnings: N/A

Series Masterlist

It had been a few weeks since Nick had come to stay at Bobby’s house and the three of you had grown fond of him. You had spent a fair amount of time with Nick, helping him with what he needed, but also just hanging out. You hadn’t been waking up depressed for the first time since you had come back to life. Sam and Bobby went on a quick salt and burn case a few hours outside of town, leaving you and Nick with the house to yourselves. You were sitting on the front porch in a rickety old rocking chair enjoying the sun that had peaked through the clouds on a surprisingly warm February afternoon.

“There you are.” Nick opened the front door and peaked his head out. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” You motioned to the chair next to yours.

He sat down with a sigh. “Wow, it feels great out here.” He remarked. “I’m going a bit stir crazy inside that house.”

“I feel you there. Cases have been few and far between lately. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little break now and then, but I feel like I should be shooting something.”

“Yeah…” Nick nodded, and a smile grew on his face. “Wait here. I’ve got an idea.” He hobbled inside as quick as he could which entertained you. A few seconds later, he came out with a full garbage bag.

“What in the world are you doing?” You asked as he carefully made his way down the steps and towards a rusted, beat up car that had clearly been used for target practice a few times. He set the bag down on the ground and pulled out empty soda and beer cans, lining them up on the hood and the roof of the car. Nick had tucked a 9mm gun into the back of his belt, which he pulled out and handed to you.

“Ladies first.” He flashed a bright white smile at you, and you took the gun from his hand. You walked over to the porch railing and lined up the cans, quickly picking them off one by one until the clip was empty. You ejected the clip, spun the gun around in your hand (a trick you had learned from Dean) and returned it to Nick.

“Oh, damn.” Nick whistled. “I like a girl that can handle a gun.” He looked you up and down.

“Oh, I can handle much more than that.” You winked at him and reloaded the clip. Nick set up more cans and took his turn. He hit every one of them, just like you.

“Alright,” you nodded, “new guy can hit a can from 20 feet away. Let’s up the ante.”

“What do you have in mind?” He mischievously smiled at you.

“Give me ten minutes.”

You went inside and grabbed your sniper rifle. You were so excited to buy this thing, but you’d only ever had the opportunity to use it once. This was the perfect excuse for some practice. You slung it over your back, grabbed a few rounds and headed back outside.

“Now we’re talking!” Nick’s face lit up when he saw the gun you were carrying. You set it down on the porch and picked up the bag of cans, walking to the other end of Bobby’s salvage yard and climbing a ladder to reach the top of an old shed. You set up 5 cans for each of you and returned to the porch.

“Best of 5, loser makes dinner and cleans up the cans.” You explained the rules to Nick as you loaded 2 clips with 5 rounds in each magazine. “Ladies first.” You mocked as you held the rifle out to him.

He slowly took a few steps towards you, giving you a playful look with his tongue pressed to his top teeth. He towered over you for a few seconds, keeping eye contact as he took the gun from your hands and gave you a competitive yet flirty look which you returned. He set up on the small table on the porch and took his aim.

His first shot was a miss. “Relax, relax. Don’t get too excited just yet.” He waved his hand at you. “That was like a pancake, first one is always a tester.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”

He readjusted and cracked his knuckles, looking into the scope. The next 4 were hits. Nick pulled away from the gun and began to eject the clip. “4 out of 5 ain’t too shabby. I’m thinking I’m in the mood for a steak dinner.” He teased.

“Alright, fine. I’ll admit it, you’re good.” You picked up the magazine with your rounds sitting on the table and added one more bullet to it as you brushed passed him and whispered playfully, “but I’m better.” Nick raised his eyebrows at you and watched as you knelt down, calibrating the scope to your needs and fired of 5 rapid shots, hitting each of your cans, before using your added bullet to knock down the can that he had missed. You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and looked over to see his reaction. He was looking you up and down and quickly looked away and blushed when he noticed you had caught him staring.

“You know what, steak dinner does sound good.” You winked, sauntered over to him and handed him the bag to pick up the cans from the yard. “Come on, I’ll help. I’m not going to make the gimp clean them all up.” You walked down the step and bent over to pick up cans. Nick joined you.

“Let me ask you something, Y/N.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I had obviously heard of the Winchester brothers, but I had heard a fair amount about you as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” You were caught off guard that the hunting community knew who you were.

“Stuff like how you look like the girl-next-door, but you could take down 5 demons by yourself.”

You chuckled. “That was one time, and I probably got lucky.”

“I mean, clearly, you’re a dead shot. I just witnessed that with my own eyes. Everyone also talked about how you were absolutely beautiful,” he paused and looked at you with a small smile, “which I can testify to be more than true.” This made your heart skip a beat and you tried to fight the blush you could feel creeping onto your cheeks. “But they all said you were off-limits because you were Dean’s girl, and Dean would kill anyone who even looked at you the wrong way. Maybe it’s none of my business, but what happened between you two? From everything I heard, you were inseparable, but here I am flirting with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and there’s no Dean around to stop me.”

You weren’t completely sure that you wanted to talk about this, but you trusted Nick. What happened between you and Dean was over and talking about it was just part of the process of moving on. You took a deep breath and threw a can into the black garbage bag. “I ended up dying in the big showdown with Lucifer. Maybe I was being a reckless idiot, but he was beating the crap out of Dean and I couldn't just stand there and let Dean die."

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that…” Nick gave you a sympathetic look.

“Sam and I were brought back pretty soon after that. We were confused and went to go find Dean, figuring he had made some sort of dumbass deal to bring us back. I was completely unprepared to see him already living with another woman. He had moved on, which he had every right to. I mean, I didn’t think that I would be back from the dead, and I’m sure he didn’t either, but I was devastated that he had moved on so quickly. I guess he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. Sam and I kept Dean in the dark for a year about us being back because he had a new family and seemed happy. Who were we to take that away from him? But it was a rough year for me. He is, or I thought he was, the love of my life. He was everything to me, and it turns out I was just another girl to him. That was a hard pill to swallow.” You looked around for more cans to pick up but didn’t find any and switched your focus to kicking rocks instead. “He found out that we were back because we had to intervene after some Djinn were trying to kill him and Lisa and Ben. Dean convinced us to make Bobby’s house our home base and stay here in between hunts. He and I have barely talked about our relationship, but it’s been pretty clear the whole time that he’s done with me. Dean and I would always talk about getting out of the hunting life and building a farmhouse in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe even starting a family. But he found that with someone else and I wouldn’t want to break up his newfound happiness.”

“Damn.” Nick joined you in kicking rocks with his non-booted foot as the two of you walked back to the house. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener.” You nodded and he could tell that you were done talking about this. “Now let’s go buy some steak. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty much a grill master.” He gave you a warm smile and placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps. “Hey, Y/N, did you really punch the Devil in the face?”

“Yep. I didn’t know what else to do when I was standing face to face with Lucifer. That smooth move got me killed.” You shrugged.

Sam and Bobby got home that night while Nick was out back grilling up some steaks.

“Something smells damn good.” Bobby remarked as he entered the house.

Sam inhaled and exhaled. “Smells like steak to me.” A smile came across his face as you walked in the back door holding a plate of sirloins.

“Welcome back boys! That was a quick case.” You gave them each a quick side hug.

“Yeah, fairly simple.” Sam licked his lips. “But enough about the case, let’s talk about those steaks. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Nick lost a little competition we had earlier. He owes me a steak dinner, but if you ask nicely, I might share with you.”

“Me too?” Dean asked as he walked into the house.

“Look what the cat dragged in. I thought you had forgotten about us.” You greeted him. “You gotta earn your keep though, sorry.” You teased him.

“What do you mean?” Dean playfully frowned.

“I won our shooting competition earlier, Nick is on grill duty, and Sam and Bobby just got back from a hunt. What did you do to deserve steak?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

He held up a plastic bag with DVDs inside. “I brought the movies.” He looked at you, waiting for approval.

“Hmm… Did you bring chocolate to go with those movies?” You interrogated.

“Come on, Y/N/N, I know you too well.” Dean reached in the bag and pulled out 3 of your favorite chocolate bars before dropping them back in.

You gave him a childish smile and ran over to him. “Yay!” You grabbed the bag from him and handed him the steak plate. “I’ll get the movie going.” You explained as you walked into the living room.

Dean smiled at you and watched you walk away, his eyes and smile lingering a little too long. Sam noticed and cleared his throat to break his brother’s stare. Dean snapped out of it quickly and looked to the ground before walking into the kitchen with the steaks. Nick had finished cleaning off the grill and followed suit.

“Hey, the whole gang’s here.” Nick smiled and greeted everyone.

“How you feelin’ kid?” Bobby asked as he put a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on his plate.

“A lot better. The ankle still gives me trouble, but it’ll heal sooner or later.” Nick dished up a plate of his own and grabbed an extra plate as well.

“Two plates, huh?” Dean noticed and asked. “You must be hungry.”

“One’s for Y/N. I lost a bet from earlier today, so I suppose I get to be her waiter.” He joked.

“Well don’t worry about, I’ve already got one started for her.” Dean held up the plate next to him that he had already put a steak on.

“Oh, okay. Thanks, man. I can finish it up if you want?”

“It’s fine, I know how she likes everything.” Dean’s response was short with hints of possessiveness and anger behind it. Bobby could tell and whacked the back of Dean’s head as soon as Nick had left the room.

“Don’t be stupid, Dean. The kid’s got a crush on Y/N, give him a break. He’s a good one.” Bobby warned.

You were sitting in the middle of the couch and Nick sat down on one side of you as you skipped through the commercials before the movie. He leaned in and whispered, “I don’t think Dean likes me very much.”

You giggled and answered, “Dean’s like that with everyone he meets at first. Don’t take it personally.” Dean walked in the room with your food and handed it to you as he sat down on the other side of you.

“Extra mashed potatoes and gravy on everything, just how you like it.” Dean sat his plate down on the coffee table.

“Great,” you thought to yourself, “sitting in between Dean and Nick for a whole movie isn’t going to be weird at all.”

Sam was sitting in the armchair next to the couch and you sent a “help me” look to him, and he just responded with a shrug. You exhaled as quietly as you could and picked up the remote from the table and pressed play.

“Alright, Caddy Shack! I love this movie!” Nick said with a mouthful of food.

Dean loved this movie too, and you could tell he wanted to say something about the movie to Nick but was holding back out of pride. It was going to be a long night.

As soon as the movie was over, Nick stood up and cleared the plates. “I’m beat. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He shot an extra smile and a quick wink your way. Dean noticed and had to keep himself from balling his fist.

“I’m calling it too, night guys.” Sam gave a wave and headed towards the stairs, leaving you and Dean on the couch together.

“So, any fun plans for your birthday coming up?” You pulled one leg up on the couch and placed your elbow on the back frame, resting your head in your hand and facing Dean.

“Oh, no I don’t think so.” He stretched his legs out on the table and slid one hand behind his head and the other laying on the back of the couch, resting on your arm.

“What? You love your birthday!”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you definitely do! You play it off like you don’t, but we all know it’s your favorite holiday.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He gave you a side smile that made your heart jump a bit. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t flirting with you, just being nice. It was rare that you and Dean were ever alone together anymore, but it felt natural.

“A few years ago, you literally made me celebrate ‘birthday week’ with you. Remember?”

“I woke you up at sunrise and we drove cross country to see the Grand Canyon.” Dean smiled, clearly getting lost in his reminiscing. “Then we couldn’t find even the crappiest motel room to stay in, so we slept in the Impala and it was freezing. That was my favorite birthday.”

“Well, I’m still planning on making your birthday pie. If you want me to, that is.”

“Hell yes I do! I’m thinking classic apple. Yours is still the best I’ve ever had. I dream about swimming in that pie sometimes.”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

“Do you remember the first time you made me pie for my birthday?”

“Of course I do. It was horrible. I practiced a lot between then and the next year and you have to admit, I’m pretty damn good now.”

“I just remember the look on your face when I walked into the kitchen and you were covered in flour. I wish I had a picture of that moment.” Dean threw his head back in laughter.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! I didn’t think you’d be awake at 3 in the morning. It was going to be a birthday breakfast pie.”

“How could I sleep with you making all that noise in the kitchen? Plus, I turned over in bed to cuddle with you and you were gone. Obviously, I went to go find you.” Dean paused. “I never really could sleep well without you beside me. Still don’t.” He looked at you with longing emerald eyes, but you quickly broke the eye contact and stood up.

“Yeah… Well, I should get to bed. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.” Dean knew he had over-stepped.

Dean found himself wanting to grab you by the hand and pull you into a big hug or follow you upstairs and tell you that he was still in love with you, but Sam’s words rang true in his head. He had made his bed, and now he had to sleep in it. He chose Lisa, but he didn’t want to go home to her. He wanted you back. He wanted the hunting life back. He wanted to live here with you and Sam, but he felt like he was slowly being replaced with Nick. Sam got along with him, Bobby clearly liked him, and he flirted with you every chance he got. Dean wanted nothing more than to yell at Nick to leave and never come back or to give him a swift punch in the face for looking at you with adoration in his eyes, but Dean knew that he couldn’t do that. He walked across the room and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the basket in the corner and laid down on the couch, hoping to fall asleep quickly.

You made your way upstairs, trying to hold back tears until you made it into your room. It was one thing to remember fun times you two had together, but how could Dean so casually throw in that he doesn’t sleep well without you? If felt like a punch to the gut and you wanted to be mad, but then he would look at you with those stupid handsome eyes and you would melt into a spineless puddle. Half of you wanted to scream and yell at Dean, and the other half wanted to grab him by the hand and take him upstairs with you. The truth was, you didn’t sleep great without him either, but you were afraid of the can of worms that might open if you told him that. The second you shut your door, you leaned against it and slowly slid down to the floor as the tears began to fall from your eyes.

Chapter 4

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural #castiel

53 notes · View notes

fandomout · 3 years

Text

Platonic Dean and Sam Winchester-being there for the yellow fever illness

Not my gif

Longer Post

Finally, finding a case, you all drive toward the morgue for the death of Frank O’Brien. At the moment, you were trying to fighting the urge to laugh after seeing Dean be completely disgusted, especially when the mortician puts the heart in Dena’s hands. However, he perks up when blood spurts right onto Sam’s face. At first, you weren’t too concerned about the case until you noticed Dean’s odd behavior that began at the witness’s, Mark Hutchins’s, house.

Being at Mark’s house, you can’t miss the exotic pets that made Dean’s demeanor tense, which you realized was fright after he moved closer to you. About to joke about it, you got just as freaked out seeing a snake slide past your foot. With both of you freaking out, Sam gives you both a look, so you and Dean try to regain your composure. As Sam wrapped up the questions, Dean eyes Mark’s snake. Despite Mark trying to ward off any worry, as if on cue, a snake slithers right on Dean’s leg, and he looks like he’ll pass out. After wrapping up with Mark, Sam headed to the county clerks while you and Dean checked out Frank's place. Everything seemed relatively clean and supernatural free. After picking up Sam, you headed to a motel. As the drive goes on, Sam mentions that the information he got at the clerk’s office does nothing for their case.

While driving, it seems to be taking longer than usual as Dean’s speed is normal. You scoot up to be in view of Dean and say, “Woah! Dean, you're going so fast! Slow down!” Dean jumps and swerves the car a smidge. Panicked, he expresses, “Y/N, sit back and put on your seat belt! I’m driving here! That’s so dangerous....God.” Sam scoffs and comments, “Dean, you're going 20.”

“It is the speed limit.”

“Since when do you-whatever.” As they near the motel, Dean doesn't take the left hand turn. In response, Sam noted, “Dean, you missed the turn.”

“Sam, I am not going to make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. I’m not suicidal.”

“You’re being weird.”

“Safety a crime now?” As they park across the street from the motel, Dean seems hesitant to cross. You notice his gaze dart toward the broken street light blinking only red. “Maybe we should head down two blocks down there and go all the way around. It’s safer. Sounds good.”

“Dean, it’ll be fine.”

“Sam, the light is broken.” Feeling a bit bad for him, you put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, “Dean, it’ll be fine as long as you know when to cross. Not to mention, there are no cars right now.”

“One could come out of nowhere. I’ll take my chances down the b-”

”Would it make you feel better if you hold onto me?”

“I-Fine.” Sam’s already across the street, and he cackles at the sight of you helping Dean across the street. In mocking tone, through laughter, Sam manages to utter, “Oh, does grandma need help across the street?”

“Shut up!” Dean responds and holds onto your arm for support. Finally making it across, Dean breathed out like he’d been holding his breath the whole way, so you patted his back. While he regained some kind of stability, you asked him, “All better?” He gave you a small smile and replied, “Much.” You all settle into the room, and you ask Sam about Dean’s behavior. Sam responds, “He is being a little weird. That being said, if you haven't noticed, he is a weird guy sometimes.”

“So, this is normal?”

“Sorta.” Sam was walking around, and his EMF went off. All of you rose you guard with Dean have panic written on his face. Sam pulls it out and tries to find the source and finds out that it’s only on Dean. Dean’s face lights up in fear. You tried to reassure him with the words, “Let’s just calm down.” He only freaked out more and responded, “Calm down?! I’ve got a ghost on my ass!” You and Sam couldn't help let out a small laugh at that, but Dean’s glare made you stop. You uttered, “Sorry. Look, we’ll figure this out.” In which, Sam added, “Right.” Sam made Dean sit down on the bed and stated, “I’ll let Bobby know about everything. I’m sure he can help.”

You sat on the opposite bed of Dean’s to try figure anything out. After a few minutes, Sam gets off the phone with Bobby relatively quickly, and he turns to both of you to say, “I’m going to get us some food. I'll be back.” Rushed, Dean comments, “Careful on the streets. Those things were really bumpy.” Dean takes off his shoes and gets onto the bed. He sighs and covers his eyes. Sam gives you a small smile and heads out. You gently ask, “Dean, do you want me to turn off the light?”

“No! No. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“Right...Want to play a game to take your mind off of-off of...it?”

“If you mean drinking games, then yes.”

“Anything else you’d be interested in?”

“Probably not.”

“How about-”

“I think I’d rather be left alone.”

“Alright. I’ll be in the bed right next to you if you need anything.” You told him and tried once again to shed any light on what was happening. When Sam comes back, you are all grateful to eat as it was the only thing to take from the situation at hand. After eating, Sam sighs heavily and stretches. Hearing all the cracks in his back, you cringe a little bit, which makes him smile. Then, he tells you , ”I think I’m gonna shower and sleep. Just like an hour or two. I really need it.” You nod and respond, “That’s a good plan. I’m just gonna look at my notes one more time and get sleep.”

“Hey, don’t get carried away. Honestly, I think Bobby is gonna solve this like always, so we need our energy for whatever he comes up with.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

You were sitting at the table when you heard Dean call out, “Y/N...” You walked over to the side of his side and asked, “What’s up?”

“Well, we’re all about to head to sleep some, right?” You nodded slowly at him. “If I’m gonna-” He scratches his arm. “Get any sleep. I-Can you sleep with me?” He sounded pretty broken up about it, which made you utter, “I-Sure. Just let me change.” You walked over to your things and took out your clothes. You walked over to the opposite side of the room and went behind the wall to change out of Dean’s view. After putting the clothes back, you walked over to Dean’s bed. Hesitantly, you sat down before laying next to him. He seemed to really need it. Although willing, you didn’t know where to put your hands and kept fidgeting. Similarly, Dean was moving about too because of his restless thoughts and feelings. He was even huffing out. Without thinking, you asked him, “Are you still scared?”

“Yup, and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.”

“Right. Right. That was a dumb question.” He turns his head toward you and asks, “This is weird isn’t it?”

“What part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Not only whatever this is, but it's a little crazy to think we’re in the same bed.”

“Right. Odd.” He breathes out a laugh and says, “Odd. Yeah…”

“Yet here we are.”

“It is a bit crazy. We don’t know each other too well...” You turn on your side with your back to him, and he does the same. The weird awkwardness provides small relief from his head that’s now constantly full of fear and anxiety, which brings a small smile to his lips. Although Sam and you have been asleep for at least 2 hours now, Dean wasn’t even half as lucky. Dean doesn't manage much sleep as he scratches his arm most of the night and is in more of a half-awake half-asleep state. At around 4:30, Dean decides it’s pointless and gets out of bed. He heads to the fridge and takes out a beer. He looked out the window to see the sun was coming up soon. He decided to walk around for the hell of it. He was looking in the cabinets even though he was sure they’d be empty. He found some empty plastic cups. He decided to make use of at least one of them by filling it with water and laying it on Sam’s forehead. Dean had to keep himself from chuckling and stifled his laugh, which alerted you. You stirred in bed, and the sun reached your eyes. You groaned at it and looked over to Dean. Then, you looked over to the clock. It was 4:55.

“Why are you up?” You said in a deeper tone since it’s the first thing in the morning.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He responded. You sat up and were more awake now as your eyes filled with worry, and you asked, “All night?”

“More like a few hours but yeah.” You get off the bed and stand up. About to walk toward the bathroom, you stopped abruptly and looked over to Sam. You smiled at Dean but told him. “Seriously? What are you five?”

“I had to keep busy.”

“Come on, Dean, don’t do this to him.”

“It’ll be hilarious.” You sigh as you try to decide to let this happen or not. After a few more seconds, you give a shrug before grabbing clothes and heading into the bathroom. You showered and changed quickly in hopes you wouldn’t miss the spectacle of Sam. Getting out of the bathroom, you start brushing your hair when you see the water spill all over Sam. Sam gasps and jolts out of bed. He runs his hand through his hair looking confused and panicked. Dean and you laugh out. In a deep tone, Sam says, “Seriously, dude.” Dean shrugged and responded with a smirk and the words, “I had some time on my hands.” Sam waved him off and said, “Whatever. Y/N if you're just about ready, why don’t we go for a walk and get some food.”

“I guess.”

“You’re gonna leave me alone?” Dean asked. Sam smirks and says, “You betcha.”

“Fine. Bring me back doughnuts.”

“First I’m gonna need to change and dry my hair since I’m all wet.” Sam goes to the bathroom and Dean follows. “What are you doing, man?”

“I’m gonna shower.”

“Could you give me a second?” Dean smiles and responds, “Uh. No.” before he just started taking all his clothes off and hops in the shower. The water started running, and Sam was drying his hair with a towel. Suddenly, Sam grumbles, “Dean?” Dean responds with, “Yeah?” while sticking his head out of the shower.

“I have a concern-”

“Can you speak normal for once Sam? It wouldn't kill you unless you're a robot like I’ve always suspected.”

“Dean, be serious.” Dean sighs, rolls his eyes and goes back into shower, but he facts interest and asks, “Oh, what is it, Sam?”

“Last night, Y/N was sleeping in your bed because?”

“What does it matter for? It’s not like we did anything.”

“Are you sure about that? Dean, I don’t know if you noticed, but Y/N happens to get along with you, me, and Bobby? We’re all completely different-”

“The point, Sammy.”

“Are you coming onto them?” Dean sticks his head out a let's a playful smile lay on his lips before laughing out a bit and saying, “Am I-Sam, I have a question for you. Do you have a cru-”

“Stop asking about that. Answer my question.” Sam says and starts changing.

“Sam, if I were, you wouldn't have to ask.”

“No? I think If anything, I’d have to ask because Y/N is different.”

“Yeah. Yeah sure. Don’t worry, I had a moment where I wanted someone in bed, asked, they said yes. Are you gonna give Y/N the same talk?”

“No.”

“Come-”

“I’ll see you.”

“Wait, let me finish showering.”

“Bye Dean.” Dean rushes out, hardly covering anything up. While surprised at the sight, you do nothing. Sam follows your gaze to dean. He rolls his eyes before covering your eyes with his large hands. Sam is about to yell at Dean when Dean huffs and says, “How dare you leave me there alone? Ya jerk!” Sam scoffs at him, waves him off before saying, “Y/N, let’s go.”

“Go-Go-Good Idea.” You respond. He leads you outside. Before the door closes, Dean manages to say, “Don’t forget the donuts!” Sam removes his hand from your eyes and tells you, “Sorry about him.”

“Yeah. That was somethin. What do you think is up with him? Like what he has or whatever?”

“Yeah. I really don’t have much of a theory. None of this is making any sense.”

“The closest I can think of is a curse but like a special one than again a curse is special in itself. There are specific targets-I just can't understand how Dean could be the only one infected. We were with him all day yesterday.”

“I’m sure Bobby had it figured out.”

“Our saving hope.” You stop at a dinner, eat, get doughnuts for Dean, and get information from Bobby before heading back to the motel. As you get to the motel, your heads look over to the loud music playing in the impala see Dean’s movement; then it becomes clear that Dean is jamming out. As Dean sees both of you come up, he turns down the music and gets out of the car. Barely getting out of the car, he starts scratching vigorously. They relay the sickness to Dean. Dean whines about the room they are in being too high, so Sam changes it. Even with the room change, Dean’s anxiety seemed to elevate. You had gone down to the library and snagged a book or two that could help you learn more even if Bobby had already given you everything in words. You got back to the motel just as Sam is about to leave, and you ask, “Where are going?” In response, he tells you, “I’m gonna go find out what happened to Jesse O’Brien’s body.” You accept that and are about to go inside when Sam purposely purposely puts himself in front of you with his back to Dean and says, “I might also bring food back. I’m hoping you can watch him?”

“Sure.” You responded.

With not much to do, you were still looking into yellow fever when you notice Dean reading one of the books. With every second, he seemed to be getting more jittery. You walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, which made him flinch away. Trying to figure out what’s happening, you say, “Dean, how ya doing?” He doesn’t respond, you reach down to the book and state, “Maybe stop looking at that.” Although right next to him, he couldn’t hear any of it as delusions filled his head. He suddenly stood and punched the clock on the wall before bolting toward the fridge and getting a beer. He strides over to the couch and rocked back a bit on it. You sat down cautiously on the single couch far from him. He noticed your gaze and mumbled, “I’m good.”

“Dean...I know you’re scared and anxious. Umm...Find the logic. It helps with the fear and anxiety...Breathing is good...Action remind out of what's-”

“Are you some kind of expert? Always trying to therapize us.”

“I don’t know if expert is the right word, but I know a bit about fear and anxiety...The anxiety part...it’s a struggle...”

“I don’t think anything can help.”

“Right…”

“But, thanks.” He says and starts scratching at his arm. You wave him off and state, “Stop scratching at that. Do I need to buy mittens to stop you?”

“I’m not a child.”

“Right about now...I mean it’s pretty darn close.” You trail off. He makes a face and moves his head back and forth. You stood and mentioned, “I think I know a cream for anti-itch. I’ll go get it.”

“You think it’ll work. This isn’t some regular smellular-”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. Don’t scratch, drink water, and I’ll be back.” You leave a bottle of water next to him and head out. Quickly, after getting to the nearest store, you checked out the cream and headed back to the motel. As soon as you walked into the room, you see Dean having a coughing fit before running over to the sink. You and Sam rushed to follow him. You pat his back while Dean coughs up blood and a wood chip. Instantly, you say, "Oh my gosh, Dean!" Dean raises the wood chip and washes it to reveal engraved symbols. Sam reveals that Dean is a clue much to Dean’s discontent. “What exactly happened while I was gone?” You ask and take out a bandana from your pocket and wipe a bit of blood from Dean’s mouth and hand him a nearby water bottle. Then, you apply the cream you bought while Sam explains, “Well, Frank’s wife was cremated, and we need to head to the factory.”

“Wait a second, Dean is the cream working?”

“A little I think.” You and Sam head to the factory with Dean waiting in the car. You and Sam get beat up by the ghost of Luther. Quickly, after, you head to question Luther's brother; however, Dean decided to come with because he didn’t want to wait in the car alone; however, it gave Dean the chance to seriously consider what being a hunter means, which only made him overwhelmed enough to run away. Sam leans over the impala exasperated. You pat Sam’s back and say, “We’ll find him. I’m gonna go steal a car, so we cover more ground.”

“Thank you.” As you're driving, he calls to say, “I’m on the west side of town. We could split it in half.”

“Sounds good.” a silence hangs and you feel the need to tell him, “Sam, we’re gonna find him”

“Can we not talk about it?”

“Fine. Fine. Did you know multiple octopus amounts to calling them octopi?”

“Umm-” You hear him let out a small chuckle.

“Was that off topic enough?”

“So random.”

“But, it was good.”

“If you say so-”

“Gotcha laughing.”

“You-I’m hanging up now.” You could swear he was smiling a bit in his words before he hung up. Despite feeling uneasy, you found Sam’s laughter to be a small comfort. After both of you confirmed that Dean wasn't anywhere in town, you agreed to head back to the motel. Sam walks up to Dean, and Dean seems to be choking on air. Sam takes hold of Dean’s shoulders and pats him while saying, “Hey, Dean. Dean. Dean.” Suddenly, Dean snaps out of it and let's out a harsh breath. Sam lets him go and rubs at his eyes. “You good?” Dean silently nods. Both of them tense, you tell them, “Both of you take a seat.” Immediately, they both sit down simultaneously. You give them water and walk over to the book on the table to try and find out anything that can to help kill Luther. You called Bobby to bounce ideas off of, but it was all just really difficult. The conversation cut short after you said, “If only there were a way to scare a ghost off.”

“Y/N, you’re a genius. Got to go.” He hung up. Sam suddenly gets a call, which ends quickly. He walks up to you to say, “I’m going to head out with Bobby. He thinks he’s found a way to beat this.”

“What is it?”

“Bobby’s not too sure yet, but I should get to him quickly.”

”Shouldn't I be helping?”

“I don’t think Dean should be alone.”

“We don’t need you there...I-I need you here.” You gave him a nod, and he headed out.

Dean comes out of the bathroom, and you tell him about Bobby and Sam. he responds with, “Great. Nothing left to do but wait here.” He gets a beer and sits on the couch.

“They’ll be back soon.”

“You really are my babysitter aren’t you?”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Cold?”

“No.”

“How abou-”

“Stop! Just...Go near the beds or something.”

“Fine if that makes you feel better.” You responded frankly. You decided to finish the additions to her journals. However, it didn't take long before you decided to keep researching in case Bobby and Sam don’t find a way.

Suddenly, a large banging comes from the door, which makes you jump. You looked over to Dean, who seemed to just be freaking out. You motioned him to get back and to the other side of the room as you grabbed your gun, but he stayed frozen in place. You forcefully grabbed at him and moved him before you stopped right next to the edge of the door. With three more pounds from whoever, the door burst open. Your eyes land on the sheriff. You charge into his side, which knocks him against the door roughly giving him a head wound. However, the fear in his eyes gives him strength to gun whip your head three times with no mercy. You tumbled to the ground roughly. You shake your head as you see double, and your vision blanking in and out. Blood gushes out of your head, but you don't pay attention to it. You move forward unsteadily and almost aimlessly.

Moving forward, Frank seems to be saying something, but you can't make out anything. You spent the time trying to get up and continuously fumbling. You watch as Al’s figure hits Dean. You lunge forward but don’t make it very far. You think about shooting but don't trust yourself. Dean is suffocating, and you just use all you have to move forward and grab onto Al. With the help of Dean, you both end up throwing Al onto the glass table. Your hearing comes back into focus, and you hear Dean say to Al, “You need to calm down.” Within a few seconds, Al starts to have a heart attack. You wobble your way over, but Al stops moving quickly. You check for Al’s pulse and state, “He’s dead.” You stand up a little too fast and almost fall over nothing. You shake your head. Dean’s eyes look right to your gushing head. With a bite to his lip, he states, “That’s a lot of blood.” He looks like he’ll pass out. Quickly, you cover your wound with your hands and walk over to get the first aid kit. You hear him breathing harshly. You try to reassure with the words, “Dean, I know this is crazy, but let’s just breathe. In and out. In and out.” He listens and starts to breathe a little better. Carelessly, you wipe the blood as best as you can. You hear a whimper from him, followed by him uttering, “Oh God. I’m gonna die.” Without reviewing the damage to your head, you put on gauze and tape, so you could calm him down. You reach to hopefully put him into a pressurized hug; however, he doesn’t give you the chance as he paces around while saying, “I’m gonna die. Can’t go back-Hell-Their gonna get me!” You forget the hug as you think it’ll scare him more and just grab his hand. He squeezes hard enough to leave bruises. He starts having a conversation with himself, but you can't make sense of it. Suddenly, he shrivels into himself and holds his heart, which makes him let go of your hand and fall to the ground. You kneel down beside him. Although terrified, you calmly look him in the eyes and firmly says, “Dean, It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You start doing chest compression. You mutter, “Let's see how these chest compressions do against the supernatural.”

Within seconds, his body stops moving, but you don't falter for a moment. Out of nowhere, he gasps out air. You stop and help him sit up. Out of breath, you manage to breath out the words, “Oh. Thank you.” His expression reading dazed before it changes into some sort of relief, and he pulls you into a hug. You pat his back comfortingly. In a happy tone, he says, “I can't believe I’m alive.” He pulls away with a smile. You respond with a smile yourself and tell him, “Nice-Nice to see you smile again. You-” You stop speaking. You can’t seem to from the words. Then, you can't even keep yourself up, so your head begins dipping forward. He uses his arms to pull you into him. Confused, he asks, “Y/N?” He peels back your gauze to see the bloody mess. “Y/N?!” He lifts you in his arms, and he lays you on a bed. He rushed over to the first aid. Frantically searching for a needle and thread, he yells out, “Dammit!” After finding it, he does as best he can before he carefully takes hold of your body and tries to put you in the backseat comfortably.

Quickly, he speeds to the nearest hospital room, and they take you into the emergency room. For about an hour, he waits patiently; In that time, Sam calls him, and Dean answers with, “Yello.” Both of them let out a relieved sigh, and Sam responds, “You’re alive. Good.”

“Can’t keep me down.”

“Are you okay?”

“Relatively, yeah.”

“We’re at the warehouse.”

“I’ll be there after this.”

“After what?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“Hospital?! You said you were-”

“I am fine. It’s Y/N. Which reminds me, I left our stuff back at the motel. You’ll need to get that.”

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t know. They passed out, but it might just look worse than it wa-” Dean sees the doctor and hangs up the phone. When the doctor goes up to Dean, they tell him, “They just needed a few stitches. I’d give them pain medication, but we-”

“No, it’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Okay. Well, you can see them now.” Dean pulls up next to you on the bed. After 10 minutes, he sees you move more aggressively. He’s about to reach out for your arm when you jolted up panic ridden. Starting to hyperventilate, your eyes move around everywhere. Your breathing returns back to normal when Dean grabs onto your arms gently. He firmly says, “Everything is okay. Everything is okay.” Your vision focuses and meets his eyes. You relax in your seating position and weakly state, “You're alive. Good.”

“Yeah. How’s the head?”

“I don’t know. Everything hurts right now...Are you okay?”

“Fine. No more sickness.”

“Go-Good.” Your breath comes out harshly and in a shaky way. Dean hesitantly asks, “Why so upset? We got the job done.”

“All of the events of the last hour. I felt your heart stop and all this crazy stuff. It was just all wash over me. Sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?”

“Just-” He hugs you once more. In a whisper, he gently tells you, “Thank you...The past day, you’ve been taking care of me. I can’t complain. Thanks, Y/N for helping me...or whatever...” You hug him back while rubbing his back and reply, “You’re welcome, Dean.”

Hope your day got better

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verobatto · 3 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XCIII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

And you are not here... (Part I)

(13x01)

Hello beautiful people! We reached season 13!!! This was a very analyzed season, so, many of the things I will say won't be new. There wasn't much Destiel in the second half of the season, so, I hope we can have less volumes than season 12.

But, let's focus now in the angst, and when I speak about angst, I mean Mourning! Dean.

Priorities?

At the beginning of the episode we have Dean, down his knees by Castiel's dead body, he can't believe he just lost him, so, he is not thinking here, he can't thing in another fact more than Cas.

Sam feels he has not time for crying for his best friend, because he has to focus in saving the world: Lucifer's son had just born.

I always like to point the difference here: Why Sam can focus on the Mission right away and Dean can't? Is because the amount of the emotions and the meaning of this lost.

Don't forget they lost Mary too, but this is different.

Because Sam lost his mother, but because she didn't died, he keeps hopes in bringing her back. Because Jack is there, and he was the one opening the rift. He lost Cas, he saw him die, his best friend, but even so, he keeps going, he runs towards that cabin to find the Nephilim. Because just like Cas, even with the loses, he has to keep fighting, to try to save the world, Cas would do the same.

But for Dean Cas represents his Everything, his faith, his hopes, the love of his life. So the world just stopped there. And he can't think in anything else but the deep pain of loosing the man he loves.

Then the scene in the car is heartbreaking.

SAM: Hold on a second. Can we just talk about what happened back there?

DEAN: Sure. Which part? Let’s see. Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is—(he pauses) Mom’s gone, and apparently, the Devil’s kid hit puberty in thirty seconds flat. Oh, and almost killed us.

This is Dean not wanting to say Cas is dead, this is Dean not being able to say Cas is dead. His worst nightmare became true.

SAM: Yeah, because you tried to shoot him.

DEAN: I tried to shoot the monster, Sam. It’s kind of what we do.

SAM: We don’t know what he is yet, Dean. And I had it under control.

DEAN: I’m sorry. Are you defending the Son of Satan?

SAM: I’m not defending anything. I’m just saying, look, with everything that’s happened, I’m obviously spun out also, but we need a plan.

DEAN: Yeah, kill him! Okay? That’s the plan. Look, right now all that matters is finding him, and ending him, before he hurts anybody else. And once we do that we’ll figure everything else out.

Again pointing at the difference between the two brothers. Sam is thinking strategically, but Dean wants to kill him, because he blames Jack of Castiel's death. Jack is a monster that deceived, used and killed Cas. So there's no doubt for Dean JACK IS A MONSTER AND HE MUST BE ELIMINATED. For Sam, Jack represents the hopes to get his mother back.

SAM: What about Cas? Is he - is he really dead?

DEAN: You know he is.

And this is terrible, Because Dean is answering this to himself. 'You know he is.' Is the fact he has to assume. But he is avoiding to do it.

"Angels are real too."

So sad when the angels find Castiel on the table. The contemptible way one of them referred to Cas breaks my heart, because is so fresh now his dead in 15x18.

1ST ANGEL: Castiel. Always knew he’d meet a bad end.

2ND ANGEL: He deserved better.

1ST ANGEL: No, he really didn’t.

This is so accurate now, is like hearing Misha wanting his big sacrifice for love as Castiel, and all the fandom repeating HE DERÑSERVED BETTER, trying to show the point, and the C*W and broniles saying NO, HE REALLY DIDN'T. But well... Just a bitter thought... For this angel, particularly, is referring to Castiel's choices, his repeatedly chosing Dean Winchester over Heaven.

When they arrive to the Burger Shop, Dean decides to stay in the car and wait for Sam.

The drunken girl, which results to be an angel, comes out from the same shop, and the camera shows us Dean's bruises in his knuckles. So, we can infer something happened...

The dialogue between the angel and Dean is very interesting, because she create a whole scenario and character:

DRUNK WOMAN: Anyway, Becky was - and I say this in the most feminist, screw the patriarchy way - a giant superbitch. She’d take things, and break things, and piss people off, and just do whatever she wanted, no matter who it hurt.

She will say after revealing who she really is, that Dean was Becky. And the way she speaks about this character is with the same contempt as the angel talking about Castiel. Because Dean is guilty of Castiel's fall and disobedience. He is the human that broke Castiel, and that's why Cas ended up dying.

Once in the police station, Dean tells all the truth to the sheriff, and when he speaks about angels... His face turns even more sad.

Gif credit @wanreina

Look how he drops his eyes and turns his face to the window. This is pure grief, pain, sadness. Because it was almost as if he was mentioning Castiel again. And it hurts too much.

We were witnesses of Dean's prayer to Chuck, mentioning he wanted Castiel back, pleading not just for him, but Mary and even Crowley. Desperate prelaying. And when he turned around, with this little hopes in being heated, and maybe finding everyone there, CAS, and then realizing they weren't, he exploded in anger, breaking the pirate on the door, and hurting his knuckles.

Still trying to make Cas to come back to him...

Goodbye Cas

When Dean was fighting against the drunken woman, now an angel, the dialogue between them is showing us again how Dean was still expecting to find a way to make Castiel come back to him.

MIRIAM: Because Bieber in there? He can do almost anything.

DEAN (hopeful): Anything?

MIRIAM: (Chuckles) Oh, sweetie. Almost anything. Castiel, he's dead.

Gif set credit @godshipsit 👇

Dean's grief all over his face while the little hope that had found it's way is slowly fading again, listening to these words. These words that Miriam says with pleasure.

This scene is showing us how Dean was only thinking about CAS, in how to bring him back, with desperation, he was longing for him so hard, even the angel perceived that emotion.

The other super sad scene was Dean preparing Cas' body for the funeral...

(the follow gifs are from @wanreina)

When he comes back to the cabin, he faces again the reality. Dean is down that sheet, dead. He stops just for a second, and swallows. Encouraging himself to keep walking towards him. Before doing that, he flicks his eyes away from the corpse.

Then he goes to his side, and sighs, and then breaths... The pain is all over him.

This is Dean realizing again Cas is gone. Look at the deep sadness in his face, while he is staring at him, maybe he is talking with him, asking Cas to come back to him. Then, he is swallowing again, hard, he looks away, because Castiel won't come back, Castiel is definitely dead, as the angel said. No one will bring him back, nobody is gonna help him to bring Cash back. The despair is huge. Yes he has to aknowledge that in his heart.

Okay I read somewhere that maybe Dean was praying here to Cas to come back again, then he sees Cas is still dead. But I really believe, Dean didn't stop praying to him, or to Chuck, because that was the only things he could do. What else? So maybe he was praying the whole time, putting his hopes in those so many times Chuck relived him, or Cas camber back to him. Trying to reach Cas somehow. But with each desperate prayer he was convincing himself Cas wouldn't come back, and this time he was dead, really dead. For ever. That's the pain in his heart. He was trying to wake him up, he was pleading for one last miracle, and not to burn his body in the pyre. So this was his last attempt to bring him back.

The last and hard scene was the funeral

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind

"You say goodbye" Sammy's voice sound in the background and we see Dean's sad face. The pain and the grief. So different from Sam and Jack. And so different from another times when he had to burn his father, or friends. Nothing is gonna be norm from now. Because he lost Cas, the love of his life.

Visual Narrative: Just a little mention of Pirate Pete's Burger Shop. The place was in blue and red, (Cas and Dean), with references about the ship (Destiel), and jokes about the butt, and, according the Urban Dictionary, the Pirate Pete is a sexual joke too. So, we can maybe infer, base in how angels were mocking Dean and CAS relationship and how it ended in this episode, that place was related to it.

To Conclude:

This was just the beginning of Mourning!Dean, we will see him depressed and with no faith, no hopes. Ig gonna be alarming for Sam, and we will have one huge revelation in the episode in wich Billie will talk with Dean about his grief.

Hope you like the first meta from season 13, see you in the next ones!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

Buenos Aires, December 20th 2020, 6:03 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #13x01 meta #season 13 meta #castiel #dean winchester #jack kline #sam winchester #spn angels #vol. XCIII

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castielific · 3 years

Text

The list

AO3 Link

Tags: Supernatural, Destiel, Alternate Ending, Canon Compliant (up to 15x10), Human!Castiel, First kiss Summary:

Once there are no more monsters, the only thing left to fight for is happiness.

Here is my take on our boys’ happy ending. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

**************************

"I hate you", Dean grumbles into his elbows. His arms are on the table, his head buried into it as he squeezes his hands over his ears.

"I think he’s getting better," Sam lies, hiding his grimace just in time so that Dean doesn’t see it when he raises his head to glare at him.

Dean opens his mouth, but is cut off by a particularly shrill note that makes him feel like someone is drilling right into his tympans. Even Sam can't help but squeeze his fists in pain, crumbling the edge of the book he's trying to read.

"'This would be good for you, Castiel'," Dean says, imitating Sam. "What about us, Sam? This doesn't feel good for us!"

"It's not so bad," Sam offers miserably.

Yes it is. It's even worse than bad. Dean flinches in pain at every horrible noise that resounds all around the bunker as Cas continues to play - or more like, tries to play - what Dean thinks is supposed to be 'Twinkle twinkle little star' on his newly acquired violin.

Truth is, it is all Sam's fault. Dean can't ressent him that much though, because the look on Castiel's face when they went to the music store was worth the torture they've been enduring for the last two days.

Since God has been defeated, they've all been having a serious case of cabin fever. Heaven and Hell have closed up their doors, angels and demons alike running home with their tails between their legs. Even the common monsters have gone into hiding. Apparently the Winchesters killing God has impressed them enough that they've all decided that they better keep quiet. Of course, they're still there, but smart enough not to do anything that might attract the wrath of the hunters. Apparently, they are exceptionally good at hiding when they want to because the only case the brothers have had in the last six months had been a rogue vampire that went on a rampage. He was still young and out of control. It took three hours to take him down, the whole deal was done in less than a day, even counting the drive.

In short, hunting has become boring. All they've had to keep them busy have been some random salt and burn, nothing exciting. The rest of the time, they've stayed cooped up in the Bunker and it didn't take long for them to go crazy. Each in their own personal way.

For his part, Sam has gone a little too far on his healthy lifestyle penchant, to the point that it became borderline unhealthy: Running up to three hours a day and eating nothing but vegetable smoothies. It lasted two months before he realized that all it was doing was giving him diarrhea and making his shins look like basketball. So now he's taken to digitizing and translating every book in their library….which sounds as exciting as getting all your teeth pulled out, if you were to ask Dean, but at least it passes the time.

Dean's way of coping was on the polar opposite as his brother's: he decided it was as good a time as any to learn to cook better. Dean has always loved cooking and has been having a blast since they found the bunker. For the first time of his life, he has a home and a kitchen of his own. Until now, between the Amara, the Men of Letters, and all that crap with God, he never had time to really enjoy it, limiting himself to the few recipes he already knew: burgers, steak, and breakfast food. With the hunting gig slowing down though, he had all the time in the world to try his hand at more ambitious things like roast, chili, lasagna and way too many pies.

His personal wake up call came when he tried to put on clothes one morning and couldn't find any pants that fitted him anymore.They hadn't had a case for three weeks, and he had to admit that he became a little too familiar with sweatpants. When confronted with the terrible truth of his every single one of his jeans being suddenly too small, he had no other choice: he spent the whole day dismantling the dryer to find out why it was shrinking all his clothes. Sam had a blast mocking him and Castiel, with his usual discretion, was quite pointedly avoiding looking at Dean's stomach during that conversation. Dean spent a long time in front of the mirror after that. He regrettably had to admit that his stomach resembled more Father Christmas's belly than David Beckham's abs at this point. He started to follow Sam's health routine the very next day. Or, tried to, at least. It didn't last long before he couldn't take the smoothie torture anymore, and decided that limiting his pie intake to two per week and doing some exercise should be enough.

Sam and him actually came to an agreement on food after that, and while Dean would never ever drink a kale smoothie again, it actually wasn't so bad to add a little more salad to his plate.

All in all, it was a difficult time for everyone, but especially for Castiel.

Castiel used to be an angel with a Godly purpose, a mission grander than anything people could even imagine. Then suddenly Chuck was gone, and the angels were gone too, and he just became a puny human with no real purpose, a soldier of God with no God to serve and no war to fight. Easy to say that he quickly joined Dean in his sweatpants' aficionados club. Except where Dean was happy to indulge in a laziness that he never really had a chance to try out before, Cas soon fell into depression. Even the best pies Dean made seemed tasteless to him after a time. He was lost in a human routine that he could find no pleasure in. It came to a point where he didn't even sleep in his own bed anymore, never leaving the couch except to satisfy the most basic needs. Sadly, on most days, showers didn't seem to be considered as one of those needs.

Once they had their breakthrough about their own miserable situations, the Winchesters decided to tackle their new mission: helping Cas.

It was Sam who proposed that they should all write a list of things they always wanted to do, but never had time for.

They took a trip to the Grand Canyon on the very next day, dragging a reticent Castiel along. Their road trip lasted nearly a month, because they kept getting distracted by new destinations. Sam wanted to see the Harold Washington Library, Dean wanted to go to Baltimore to go to the Dangerously Delicious Pies shop he heard about while searching for new pies recipes, and so on.

Castiel never asked to see anything, pretending gloomily that he used to be able to go anywhere in a flap of his wings, and therefore had seen everything he ever wanted too. Dean dragged him to an amusement park anyway, because he was pretty sure the angel had never been on a rollercoaster before. Dean regretted that pretty fast when Cas became strangely fond of them, saying that it reminded him of flying. They took so many rides that Dean threw up and Sam's nose bled for nearly one hour after.

Still, it seemed like a wake up call for Cas. He spent the rest of the drive home lost in his thoughts or scribbling a list on the back of a gas station's receipt. He even asked them to stop in Utah on the way back to see the largest bee hives in the US. They ended up buying so many types of honey that they now have a cupboard full of it in the kitchen.

They had been back to the bunker for two days when Cas declared he wanted to learn how to play an instrument. They went to a music store, where Castiel tried on every instrument from a harmonica to a full drum set. After the obligatory harps jokes, Dean tries to entice him to buy a guitar, and learn all the best Zep songs. Cas was too polite and knew better than to criticize Dean's taste in music, so he chose the guitar. Dean wasn't oblivious to the way his friend kept lingering in front of a black violin though, so he relented and bought that instead.

He's sorely regretting it now.

It's still totally Sam's fault though, he was the one to come up with the idea of this stupid list in the first place.

**********************

"I've decided what I want," Castiel declares as soon as the movie's credit starts rolling about a month later.

Sam snorts, waking up from the doze he'd fallen into. He blinks at them, wiping his eyes tiredly.

"I said no cat, Cas," Dean reminds. Apparently, one of Cas' item on his stupid list is to get a pet.

"I don't want a cat."

"I'm allergic to animal's hair," Dean reminds him, suspicious. Last night Cas declared he wanted a Camel. A freaking camel.

"Of course, Dean, your health comes first," Cas concedes amicably. "Although, I do wonder if you're not using this as an excuse, and would not have been amenable to adopt a pet anyway, were it not the case."

Dean scratches under his ear. "What? No. Of course, I'd want one. I love animals. Just, no snakes or anything that eats living food. I know you, and you would just end up saving all the mice or something."

"You know, they do make hairless cats and dogs," Sam pipes up, smirking when Dean sends him a side glare.

"Those are majestic creatures, indeed, Sam, but I much prefer the softness of fur. Don't you Dean?"

"What." What kind of question is that?

"Wouldn't you like it if you could have a pet with a soft fur that didn't make you sneeze and suffer so much?"

"Huh. I guess?"

"Good," Cas concludes with a jut of his chin. "His name is Honey," Cas announces, raising the kilt that was on his lap to reveal a…

"What the hell is that thing?" Dean shouts, jumping to his feet.

"Honey is a texel guinea pig," Cas says, cuddling the little beast to his chest. The pet starts emitting a little noise in pleasure as Castiel caresses his fur. It has long curly hair. Its head is black with a white spot on the top while the rest of its body is a mismatch of large black, white and orange spots.

"It looks like a freaking sheep!" Dean exclaims, sending a betrayed look to his brother that is already kneeling next to Cas and petting at the small animal.

"See, Sam, we do have a guinea pig now," Cas says proudly, making Sam chuckle at what is obviously a private joke between them.

"We don't have anything! I'm allergic, Cas, remember? My health…," Dean finishes, faking a cough. Sam rolls his eyes while Cas squints at him.

"I don't think you are, Dean. Honey has been on my lap all night and you haven't shown any signs of allergy. I've looked at you closely to make sure."

"Do you think he likes kale?" Sam asks, taking the little beast on his own lap as he sits on the ground.

"I think he might, Sam. The internet says guinea pigs need to eat a lot of vegetables. Do you want us to go and try to feed him some?"

"Yes!" Sam declares, squeezing delicately the pet against his chest as he gets up.

"But-," Dean tries to protest.

"I bought him a little hammock that he really likes," Cas tells Sam as he gets up too.

"But I haven't-"

"That's cute! I want to see it!" Sam says eagerly.

"My allergies…," Dean finishes lamely as he watches the two other men leave the room without a look in his direction. He scowls, staring at the beer he's still holding. He sulks for all of thirty seconds before he grumbles. "Dammit, I want to see the tiny hammock too. Guys, wait for me!"

**********************

"Oh, that's...that's a nice...tree."

"It's supposed to be Sam," Cas says with a pout, looking at his very first painting.

"Yeah no, I mean, behind him? The big woody thing?"

"That's you," Castiel pouts, looking dejected.

Dean grimaces, inclining his head to try, and identify himself in the glob of paint on the canvas.

"So you're not Van Gogh," Dean finally declares. "Or Mozart. The important thing is that you wanted to give it a try and you did. If you liked doing it, then that's what matters, no matter the end result," Dean tries to reassure, squeezing his friend's shoulder reassuringly. He learned his lesson when his words about Cas' lack of music skill were not so delicate, and the ex-angel ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a whole week.

When he looks back at him, Cas has a small smile on his lips and a look so full of...of something, that Dean can feel his cheeks warming a little. Seconds pass and Cas keeps staring until Dean clears his throat, forcing himself to look back at the ugly painting.

"What's next on your list?"

A hand pulling on his arm makes him turn back toward Castiel. Dean barely has time to react before his friend's lips brush with his. It's so fast and soft that he's left blinking in confusion, wondering if that really happened.

"This was."

Cas is still smiling, even though Dean recognizes the worried line creased between his brows. The hunter opens his mouth, but doesn't know what to say. To say that he wasn't expecting it would be an understatement. To say that he never thought about it, a lie. To say that he regrets it…

"I liked doing it," Cas declares, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Now I want to ride a horse."

"A- a horse?"

"Unless we can still get a camel?" Cas teases, acting hopeful. He sends Dean a wink - a goddamn wink - before he grabs his painting under one arm and leaves the room.

"Ride a...Wait. Cas! We're not getting a horse either! Cas!!"

*************************

When Dean finds him, Castiel is sitting on the bench Dean made from the trunk of one of the trees they had to cut down to make this space into their garden. The sun hasn't set yet, but the end of september's evenings are already colder. The last flowers of the season are blooming, and the vegetables they planted in the spring are starting to wilt, only a few tomatoes popping red among the green and yellowing stems.

Cas is bending forward, forearms resting on his legs. His eyes are closed and for a minute, Dean is worried that something happened, that he's sad or sick. He's reassured when he hears the low murmur of Cas' words, see the slight smile at the corner of his lips, the one Cas always gets when he's trying to be funny.

His friend hasn't heard him approaching yet, so Dean waits, trying not to eavesdrop on a conversation he's not supposed to be a part of.

Dean takes the time to check on the apple trees he planted instead. They're too young yet, too small to give any fruit, but by next year, maybe...He can't wait to bake a pie with his own apples. He rolls his eyes at the thought, that's so domestic. Yet here he is, planning on planting strawberries and raspberries, checking on the squash that is starting to grow and wondering if it'll be ready by Thanksgiving.

Vegetables are Sam's thing. Flowers and the small hive they've built are Cas'. Dean is in charge of the fruits.

They planted their garden over the underground garage, hidden by such a large ply of trees that there is no risk of anyone stumbling upon it by accident. They had to cut down trees, dig out every root, and plow the whole area to prepare the soil. They've spent nearly all spring and a good part of summer working to create that little bit of garden on the Bunker's roof. They've bought so many gardening tools that they're already making plans to build a shed here in the spring.

It's nice. The bunker is feeling more and more like a home, like a place Dean could feel himself growing old in, maybe.

They've talked about buying a house, especially Sam, but somehow they can't see themselves leaving anywhere else than in the bunker. It's their legacy, the place they were always meant to be, and they've come to love it despite all the horrors that happened there in the past.

Maybe it will change someday. Maybe Sam will want to marry someone, to buy a more traditional place with a white picket fence where he can raise kids without fearing that they'll choose a cursed object or weapon laying around as their next toy. Dean has noticed more and more of Eileen's clothes in the laundry, more of her things left behind every time she comes to visit. He hopes it's only a matter of time before he's not surprised to see her at breakfast anymore.

By the time he's checked on the fruit part of the garden, Cas has stopped praying and is observing him. The sun is setting, painting an orange glow behind him, and for a second it nearly looks like Cas has a hallo.

"You told Jack about the horse riding lesson?" Dean asks as he straddles the bench to sit next to his friend. He rubs his hands against the cold, blowing into them to try and warm them up a little.

"Maybe," Cas says with a mocking smile that makes Dean balks.

"Oh, come on, you promise you wouldn't tell anyone about me falling on my ass!"

Cas chuckles at the memory of Dean's horse throwing him into a giant mud puddle. Dean had cursed for a whole ten minutes as he struggled to stand up but kept falling right back on his ass. It made Cas laugh so much that he'd started crying. That's a thing Cas does now, he laughs. He does it more and more, and Dean is amazed by it, every single time.

"Technically, I didn't tell anyone anything," Cas argues with a smirk. He's not wrong. They have no idea if Jack can even hear their prayers now that he's taken charge of and close up Heaven. That doesn't stop them from regularly praying to him, especially Cas.

"You tell Sam and I'll bury your damn guinea pig next to the tomatoes," Dean threatens.

"No you won't," Cas says with a fond smile.

"No, I won't," Dean admits, pouting half-heartedly. He's actually come to like the damn beast. Which no one would actually know if Honey didn't start screeching every time Dean comes near it, calling for the treat that he knows Dean will give him. It was supposed to be their little secret but Honey blew their cover more than once. Dean is still pretending he hates the little ball of fluff, on principle, even though no one is fooled anymore.

"You were right about the horse, I hadn't realized the amount of dejection it actually produces," Cas concedes. "Also, my bottom is sore from the ride," he adds, squirming a little in his seat.

Dean chokes a little on his saliva at the image that brings to mind. Honestly, even without the innuendo, watching Cas ride a horse, hips rising and bending over the saddle, has done quite a number on Dean's libido. If he hadn't been questioning his sexuality before, he would definitely be now. Good thing he already was. Cas kissing him has been the only thing on his mind for days now. They haven't talked about it, and Cas is acting like it didn't even happen, but Dean has barely slept since then, spending his nights thinking about Cas' lips on his, and how he might possibly maybe want to do that again.

"Did you kiss Sam too?" he blurts out. It's not the most subtle or delicate way to bring up the subject, but apparently that's what his brain has chosen to say. Damn you, brain!

"Why would I kiss Sam?" Cas asks, looking genuinely astounded by the question.

"Wasn't that on your list?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his neck.

Cas squints at him like he's the most idiotic thing he's ever seen and, well, Dean probably is.

Dean squirms under the stare, rubbing his hands again, as much against the cold as in nervousness. The ex angel gives a long suffering sigh before he grabs Dean's wrists. He pulls on his hands until they're under his own sweater. Dean is so startled that he just looks at the bulge his hands are making over Cas' stomach with wide eyes, not daring to move his fingers. They're nestled between Cas' tee-shirt and his abdominal muscles. It's so warm under there that his skin is tingling from the temperature difference.

"You're an idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas declares. Dean looks up, and Cas is looking at him so fondly that it makes him blush a little.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know."

"I must be one too, because I would very much like you to be my idiot for as long as you would have me," Cas confesses, a little shy as he draws patterns on the shape of Dean's fingers over the tissue of his sweater.

"I'm not sure, Cas," Dean says, making the other man tense up. "Are you sure you want to be stuck with me forever?"

It takes a minute for Cas to get his meaning, brow furrows intensely before they relax in realization.

"That was my plan all along," Cas says, his smile so wide it's showing his gums.

And yeah, knowing Cas, it probably was. Cas would have stayed by Dean's side forever whether he was an angel or a human or even a God. Hell, Cas was ready to stay by his side when Dean was turning into a monster bearing the mark of Cain, and when he was a demon. He wanted to stay by Dean's side even when Dean was cruel and screaming at him to go. It was the irony of it all, wasn't it? It always felt like Cas was leaving him, running away for angel business or whatever, but Dean never ever doubted that he would come back. He always knew Cas would come back somehow. After all, even death could never keep Cas away for long.

Dean slides his hands a little higher, making Cas shiver as they travel over his torso under his shirt. Dean's fingers tightens around the cloth, and pulls Cas closer, close enough that their noses are nearly touching.

"And now it's mine too," Dean sworns,resting his forehead against the other man's. He cradles Cas' jaw, passing a thumb under one of his eyes. The stubborn angel refuses to close them, even though they're so close that he's going cross eyed. Still, he keeps looking right into Dean's green orbits and hell, that must mean Dean can't keep his eyes off Cas either

When they kiss, it's sappy and tender and sweet and everything Dean always thought he could never have. The relief he feels makes Dean wonders if it isn't everything he's been waiting for all along, without even realizing it.

Cas is right by his side, as always, and Dean is damn well going to keep him as close as he can for as long as he possibly can. And hey, he knows the guy ruling Heaven now, so that might just be forever.

The End.

#destiel #deancas #dean/cas #dean/castiel #destiel fic #spn fix it #fic #destiel fix it #ao3 fic #Dean/castiel fanfic

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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Bar Night - Dean Winchester

Request: could you do a dean one where reader and dean are at a bar and reader is getting hit on and dean pulls her out of the bar and reader gets mad and asks why he cares and she realizes he’s jealous and he eventually tells her he loves her please

A/N: Bear with me, I’m still getting used to writing Dean.

Supernatural Masterlist

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Usually this was Dean’s gig, flirt with the cute bartender while they shamelessly dropped hints about what time they were getting off shift. Tonight you’d lucked out though. Not that you were interested in the guy tending bar for anything more than a quick night but he was cute, you’d give him that. In an ‘I stopped aging at 30 and I look like an ex member of a boyband’ way. Which was fine since Dean was keeping you at arms length. Heaven forbid anyone ever get close to him again besides Sam.

“And the guy says-“

“Hey,” speak of the devil (figuratively), you turned in your stool to see Dean standing there, his usual attempt at a stoic expression on his face but you could tell he was pissed. About what, you weren’t sure, but you had known him long enough to pick up on his tells.

You were right too. He was pissed. He’d been sitting at the booth the three of you had grabbed earlier in the evening, watching you sit up at the bar. You had said you were only going up for a refill but next thing he knew you were sitting on the stool, chatting with the too friendly bartender.

“What’s taking her so freakin’ long?” Dean grumbled, “how hard is it to uncap a bottle of beer and walk it over here.”

“She’s talking to the bartender Dean, I know you can see that.” San replied, too busy reading over the paper to bother with this eventual lover’s quarrel. Except, of course, that you weren’t lovers. At least not yet.

“This is ridiculous, I’m gonna be dead before my beer makes it to the table.” He stood up, making his way through the crowd to the bar. Any other given night he would’ve just waited but he could see you leaning against the counter as the bartender told what he imagined was a stupid, fabricated story about something ordinary. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” you smiled and your stool turned though Dean didn’t miss the way you glanced back at the bartender, as if to suggest that this new person held no threat to him.

“I thought you were grabbing beers?”

“I am.” You nodded toward the three beers that were sitting on the counter, “see, there are the beers and I’m right here, getting them.”

“Yeah, yeah...I see you sitting here chatting it up with the bartender while Sam and I are over there waiting. Like we got nothing friggin’ else to do.”

“Well you’re here now, take the beers. I wouldn’t want you and Sam to dehydrate.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him as you took a sip of your own beer. You wanted to tell Dean that if the bartender was some skimpily dressed woman, he would’ve parked his ass in the stool all night long. Instead he was bitching because you took five extra minutes to yourself.

“Are you coming?” He asked, grabbing the beers off the counter. He looked back at the booth where Sam was still sitting, completely oblivious to the two of you.

“Back to the booth?” You asked, “in a minute.” You turned back toward the counter, eyes scanning the line of people to see where your bartender was.

“You know we got a case we’re trying to work on here, maybe you could act a little more professional and save the hook-ups for after we gank this thing.” Dean knew how hypocritical he sounded but he couldn’t stop himself, he was seeing red just standing there watching you look for the bartender and there was no way he would be capable of walking calmly back to Sam and going on with the night knowing that you would be with someone else.

You almost spit out your beer when you laughed, the bitter sound letting Dean know you were pissed at him, the laugh only a mocking one. “That’s the fucking most hilarious thing you’ve ever said. Excuse me for enjoying myself and not sulking in the corner with you and Sam.”

“You don’t even know who this guy is, for all we know-“

You cut him off before he could finish the sentence, spinning so quickly in your chair you were thankful you didn’t completely fall off and embarrass yourself. “Do not even finish that sentence Dean.” You snapped. “I can’t believe you, what just cause a guy is interested in me he must be a monster? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

“No I-“ He shook his head, quickly trying to back track. It was too late though, you were already heading for the door of the dive bar, no doubt planning on walking the short distance back to the motel. He wasn’t finished having the conversation though and he’d be damned if you went off and then pretended like nothing ever happened. “hey!” He called after you, putting the beers back on the counter.

“Hey man, you gotta pay for those.” The bartender you’d been looking for earlier seemed to reappear as Dean stepped away from the counter.

“Screw you.” He called over his shoulder, following you outside.

You weren’t hard to find or to catch up with. Before you could even get halfway across the parking lot to where Baby was sitting Dean had grabbed your arm, trying to stop you. In the moment you swung back, trying to hit him but he grabbed the wrist of your other arm before your right hook could land on his face. “Hey, whoa, wait a minute.” Dean said.

You yanked your arms away and crossed them in front of you, trying to glare daggers into his skull. Rowena no doubt knew a spell for something like that, you wouldn’t mind having it handy in moments like these.

“I wasn’t trying to say he was a-” He started to say but you rolled your eyes.

“Anyway you spin that it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Try apologizing for once without talking your way out of a problem.”

“I’m not talking my way out of anything!”

“Oh please!” You groaned, “you always do this!”

“Do what? All I did was ask you where my beer was and you’re flying off the handle!” Dean argued though he knew that wasn’t true. He’d pushed you because he was jealous watching you flirt with that guy. Antagonizing you at the bar had worked enough to get you away from the bartender but he hadn’t wanted to get you mad at him in the process.

“What are you gaslighting me now? I’m not crazy! We go out all the time and you flirt with anything that walks by but I flirt with one guy and you immediately lose it!”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘losing it’.” He replied, trying to keep up his indifference.

“I’m not doing this with you again Dean.” You said, suddenly sounding more tired than angry, “give me the keys, I’m going back to the hotel.”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. There was no way he was letting you have Baby but there was also no way he was letting you walk back alone. “We’re not done talking.”

You sighed, shaking your head at him. He wasn’t going to give up but all you wanted was to put this behind you. These arguments were all the same, they led nowhere and tomorrow he would be back to the same old Dean flirting with other women and ignoring any inkling that there might be something between the two of you. “We aren’t talking, we’re yelling in a parking lot about nothing. About your need to sabotage every chance I get with-“

“You didn’t even like that guy.”

“Oh, so now you’re the expert on what guys I like?”

“Just, could you shut up for a minute?” He snapped.

“Excuse m-“

You were ready for a comeback, that fire you felt at being practically scolded in front of a bar full of people right there in your throat ready to yell at him when he kissed you. Without warning Dean grabbed your face and kissed you, eyes closed, his shoulders relaxing, until you shoved him back.

As fogged over as the kiss made your brain and as much as you were dying to keep kissing him, you were not going to lose this argument. “I swear to god Dean Winchester if you just kissed me to distract me from-”

“Will you shut up?” He groaned, “fine, you want me to say it, here it goes. I like you. God, I sound like I’m in high school. That bartender, the coroner last week, that lawyer we interviewed two days ago. They’re all crap and as much as I would like to keep you at arm's length and pretend I’m not feeling this way I can’t keep sitting there watching these guys, terrified that one of them will be different than the rest and you’ll leave. And I don’t wanna be the one to condemn you to this life-”

“Condemn me to it? God Dean I’ve been in it as long as you have.” You replied, cutting him off before he could go down the rabbit hole of pitying himself.

“It’s not fair of me to ask you to stick it out and give up any sense of normalcy. And it’s not fair of me to dump all this crap on you in some dive bar parking lot but seeing you with other guys just reminds me that I want that with you. I love you, I can’t keep acting like I don’t.” Dean said, frustration giving way to exhaustion, “there, that’s it.”

“Oh thank you, I can talk now?”

“Always with the smart ass comments.”

“I try.” You grinned, your earlier anger subsiding at Dean’s confession. You’d always thought there was something between the two of you but usually wrote it off as a misinterpretation on your part but to hear him say that he loved you was all you needed. “And you’re not condemning me to anything or dumping your crap on me or any other over dramatic, pain in the ass way you can think of to torture yourself over actually having feelings for me.”

“I am not being dramatic.” Dean argued.

“Are you kidding me, this is the epitome of Winchester drama. Lucky for you, I happen to love you enough to put up with it.” You confessed.

“Yeah well…what? Really?”

“Hey, I’d be hunting with or without you but enduring 48 hour car trips in the backseat of Baby while you and Sam bullshit each other…consider it a testament of my love for you.” You started to head back to the bar when Dean grabbed your arm again, stopping you in your tracks.

“Uh, no, where do you think you’re going?” There was no way he was letting you go back into that bar.

“I still want a beer! And Sam is in there.” You said looking at the door to the dive and then back to Dean.

He shrugged, pulling you closer to him again. He wasn’t about to spend the rest of the night sitting in a booth with Sam when he had just told you he loved you and listened to you say it back. He’d been wanting this for too long. “Sam‘ll figure out we left and there’s beer back at the hotel.”

The real question...does Sam ever realize their gone?

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester Imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #spn fanfic #spn imagine #spn fic #collecting stories imagine

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jawritter · 4 years

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Princess...

Request by: @prettysourabbie Thank you for answering my question love!💕 can I request a Dean x plus size reader where she is super shy and it drives dean crazy? Fluff, smut? I’m sorry to bother you hahaha and that this sounds awkward turtle 🐢 🖤😻

Warnings: Smut, language, shy!reader, body insecurities, fluff, Oral (female receiving), I think that’s it.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus sized!Reader

Word Count: 2476

A/n: As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

The bar was crowded tonight, more crowded than it usually was. It was early in the afternoon too, so it was odd that the place was this packed.

Here you were though, shoved as far over in the dark corner of the bar booth as you could get, and watching the people warily.

You weren't a people person. You were a researcher, you didn't even begin to call yourself a hunter, you were a loner, and you preferred being as far away from people as humanly possible.

You were a shy person, and holding a conversation with strange drunk people wasn't exactly high on your agenda for tonight, but Dean wanted to blow off some steam after the boy's most recent hunt, and he didn't want you to sit in the bunker all alone even though you would have been fine with that.

You had your books and your research. That was enough for you.

Books didn't judge you, mock you behind your back, call you mean names, or make fun of the fact that you had a little more weight on you than the rest of these girls walking around here tonight.

They didn't stare at your thicker thighs, or the fact that your stomach wasn't flat and perfect, or the fact that you had a little more curve to your body than what was socially acceptable.

They just were, and they allowed you to hide safely away from your reality, and away from people.

You couldn't tell Dean no, no matter how much you wanted to though. You'd had a crush on Dean ever since you'd moved into the bunker with them three years ago, but you were way too shy to ever tell him how you felt about him.

Aside from the fact that Dean usually walked around with a woman that could honestly be America's next top model on his arm, and you were anything but that, you would die of embarrassment if you knew he knew you liked him. That would probably be the most humiliating thing to ever happen to you.

Either way, when he flopped down next to you in the library tonight, begging you to accompany him, and doing his best to imitate his brother's puppy dog eyes, you blushed and agreed to go.

Coming back from the bathroom Dean flopped down in the booth next to you, throwing his arm over the back of the booth, and pulling you close to his side.

The girls across the room gave you a dirty look, but you just continued to stare at your beer and pick at the label on your beer bottle. You knew if you looked up at Dean you'd just blush again, so it was easier just to not make eye contact.

"You're not really enjoying yourself are you sweetheart?" Dean asks, taking a deep swig of his beer as his eyes searched you. Even though you weren't looking at him you could feel his gaze on you.

"Not really, guess bars just aren't my thing. I'm killing your fun so I'm just going to call an uber or something. The bunker is walking distance from here. I'm just going to go home," you tell him, but he doesn't budge one bit.

"I don't think so Y/N. We are going to have a good time together tonight, you're going to get out of that little shell you keep yourself hauled away in if I've got to get you slap drunk to do it. Now come on let's play some pool." Dean said, getting out of the booth and pulling you with him.

"Dean you don't have to hang out with me if you want to go find a girl to take home tonight or something. I can totally go home. There's a blonde over there at the bar that's had her eyes on you all night. Go have fun. I'm no fun to hang out with." you tell him as he shoves a pool stick in your hands and starts getting ready to start the game.

Dean gave you an annoyed glare before giving you an impish smile that made your stomach flip.

"I am going home with a girl tonight princess, you, now stop being such so goddamn shy, and let's have fun."

You couldn't understand what he was doing, but you also knew that there was little to no point in arguing with him.

"Fine," you say as he sets up his first shot. Leaning over the pool table. Body angled perfectly. Completely relaxed and in his element, and God he was beautiful.

"I'm going to make you open up to me princess, when I get my eyes on something I want, I don't stop until I get it."

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

Three hours later Dean had gotten you to loosen up, that or the sheer amount of shots he'd gotten you to do with him, and you were fairly certain that he was unable to actually get drunk anymore. You on the other hand were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, and as he tried to pass you yet another shot you held your hands up refusing him.

"NO! No more Dean, I'm already going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning." You giggled at him, pushing the shot back to him and watching as he took it down just like a shot of water.

"Okay, okay fair enough, it's getting late anyway." Standing up off the bar stool Dean wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You did notice that most everyone had gone and left, so you knew that it must be pretty close to closing time.

"What do you say we go back to the bunker, I'll take you to my room, and we'll cuddle up and....."

"WOAH There, cowboy!" you tell siding down off the stool and stumbling towards the front door, Dean's arms still wrapped firmly around your waist. "I don't plan on being another notch in Dean Winchester's bedpost."

Dean got quiet after that, and you wondered if you hurt his feelings. You watched as he walked around the car, his face deep in thought. When he got in and shut the door he looked at you, his expression soft and earnest.

"Y/N, I have a confession to make." Dean looked down at this lap. Running his fingers nervously over his knees as he tried to work up the courage to tell you whatever it was that he had to tell you.

"Okay."

Dean started the car and pulled onto the highway, probably thinking it was better to get home or at least closer to it before he said whatever it was he had to say. His eyes were on the road, but his expression was strange, there was something there just below the surface you couldn't read, so you just sat there silently and gave him whatever time he needed.

"Listen I don't want you to be mad at me okay? Because I uh...as I'm not really good with words, and I don't want to sound like a complete and total Jackass when that's not my intention at all."

Looking over at you he checked your expression before continuing.

You sat there quietly looking back at him. Worry starts to grip you.

"I sent Sam to Jody's so that you and I could have some time together," he said in a rush. Like if he could get it all out right now you wouldn't get totally angry with him.

"I like you a lot Y/N, I mean I really, really like you, but you're so damn shy all the time. You never opened up to me, you won't even look at me half of the time when I'm talking to you, and all I want is for you to feel the same thing for me that I feel for you; but you're never going to do that if you won't open up to me and get out of that little protective bubble you keep yourself in. So I sent Sam away, thinking if I made you spend a little time with me you'd open up to me enough that you and I could maybe, I don't... I'm making myself sound like a jackass the longer I talk. I'll just shut up and take you back to the bunker now. You clearly don't feel the same way I do."

Throwing the car in park Dean jumped out of the car, and you were right on his heels. Confused, and a little annoyed to say the least.

"Wait, Dean," Grabbing his arms as you both make your way to the bottom of the stairs. "Hang on a damn minute." You tell him until he turns around and looks at you, giving you a hard look. You never were able to say much when he looked at you so intensely so you just looked down at the floor.

"Listen, I don't understand, I'm not mad, I just don't understand why you wanted to all the sudden hang out with me, then out of nowhere you're angry and walking away from me."

Dean swallowed hard and ran his hands harshly down his face. Looking anywhere but you.

"Because... I like you y/n, a lot, and I wanted to see if maybe you liked me, and that sounded so 8th grade, but I don't know any simpler way to say it."

“Dean you don’t want to be with someone like me.” You told him. Still staring at your feet.

“Excuse me?” Dean said, putting his hands on either side of your face.

“Princess don’t EVER let me hear you say that about yourself again. You're amazing, smart, funny, beautiful, and any man would be lucky to have you.”

Looking up into his piercing green eyes you held your breath as Dean lowered his lips to yours again. Demanding, needy. His tongue tracing your lower lip. Begging for entrance that you so willingly granted him. His tongue quickly dominated yours as he pulled you tight against him.

When you both finally had to pull away Dean laced his fingers with yours and started to make his way through the bunker, towards his bedroom. Opening the door, and letting you in before he closed the door and lips were on yours again as he backed you to his bed, Not stopping until your legs hit the bed, and you feel lightly backward on the bed.

"Dean, what are you doing?" you asked him, embarrassment, making you want to crawl in a hole and hide, but when you looked into Dean's eyes all you could see was pure love and devotion, and that gave you a little more confidence than you had ever had.

"I'm going to show you just how much I care about you, and just how worth it you are, even though you think you're not."

You crawled back up the bed as Dean quickly shed all of his layers that were now piling on the floor quickly before he stalked his way up to your body almost predatory.

As soon as his lips attached to your neck you were a goner. All self-control and embarrassment flew right out of the window. All that was left was need. Need to be as close to Dean as humanly possible.

Everything that happened next was a blur because you were so consumed by him.

His hands tracing your body as he quickly undressed you, the way his weight felt on top of you has he caged his body around you perfectly. His lips leaving a trail of little bite marks and open mouth kisses as he worked his way down to your breast. Sucking each nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirling and licking at each nipple. Causing your back to arch off the bed and closer into him.

His lips working their way down your stomach and thighs as he kissed and worshiped your body, all those places you hated the most, he treated like he couldn't get enough of them.

Spreading your legs gently he kissed his way up and down each of your thick thighs before licking a strip up your already soaking folds, and growl of approval leaving his lips. " You taste so fucking, good princess," he growled before devouring you like a starving man having his last meal. His sinful mouth driving you closer and closer to your release as his tongue lapped at your swollen clit his fingers made their way into your soaking entrance, first one, then two, pumping and curling them inside of you. Stretching you, getting you ready for him as the pleasure you were experiencing builds and builds until all of a sudden it was too much to take and you were falling over the edge of pure bliss as your body jerked and your vision blurred in the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced.

Before you had even come down all the way his lips were back on yours. Giving you a taste of yourself which surprisingly turned you on more than you thought it would.

"So fucking gorgeous when you fall apart, baby girl. I've been dreaming about doing that for a long fucking time."

Reaching down between your bodies he started to pump himself a few times before lining his thick length up with your aching entrance. Sinking in slowly then stilling for a moment to give you time to adjust to the new stretch, before he started pumping himself in and out of you slowly at first. His lips barely leave your skin, and he held you as close to him as possible. His pace quickened as he went. Pushing you closer and closer to your end, your body literally trembling in his arms as it almost became too much to take.

"Dean...." You tried to make a coherent sentence but it just wasn't going to happen.

"I know princess, let go I've got you."

WIth that you came apart underneath him, your fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself through an orgasm that was even stronger than the first. He seeds spilling inside of you, painting your walls with everything that was him. Your body clamped down on him as he rutted himself into you. Driving you both through your orgasms until you were both able to breathe normally.

"Shit Y/N," he said as he rolled off of you and pulled you close to him. Not even bothering to clean you up.

"Yeah... Shit," you mumbled as you nuzzled into his neck.

"You know your mine now princess, no more of this shy shit," he said, giving you a playful jab at your side before brushing his lips over yours, your lips moving lazily together. No hurry, no nothing. Just the two of you, being together, and it felt so right. So right that you weren't going to ever want to leave this spot right here.

You had no problem being called his princess.

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equisetumspn · 3 years

Text

Party at Victor’s

”Cas, come on man. It’ll be fun, I promise. Everybody will be there,” Dean pleaded with Castiel. “Listen, I know we said that we would stay at home and watch movies with Sammy and Kevin like we did last year and the year before, but this could be our last chance at celebrating New Year’s with our friends. This time next year everything will be different and maybe people won’t even come home for the holidays. Please?”

Castiel sighed. How could he deny his best friend anything? He never could, and it had only gotten worse in the past year and a half. Ever since he realized that he not only had a crush on his best friend but was in hopelessly love with him.

They had been down by the lake the day that Castiel’s feelings caught up with him. Castiel had been sitting on a blanket, trying to concentrate on his book and listening to Dean and Sam laughing as they had chased each other by the edge of the water. Dean had flopped down on the blanket next to him, water droplets coming off him and landing on the page of Castiel’s book. Castiel had looked up at Dean. The sun had hit him, making his green eyes sparkle in the light and emphasizing his new freckles that had come out in the summer sun. He had said something but Castiel hadn’t heard a word, too distracted by the boy in front of him. It had been like he had never seen Dean before. Dean had needed to repeat himself two times and ask if Castiel had been alright, before Castiel had registered that Dean had been asking about going to go get some ice cream. Castiel had tried to blame being too engrossed in his book and an unexpected plot twist in it, but he hadn’t been sure if Dean had bought it since he had kept looking questioningly all the way to the ice cream stand.

That evening, Castiel had paced back and forth in his room, trying not to panic. Falling in love with his best friend was such a bad idea and it was such a high school cliché that he had felt his cheeks burn red when the realization had hit him all over again. But it wasn’t like he could just as sudden fall out of love with Dean and he didn’t want to risk the friendship, so after he had considered his choices, he had decided to suppress his feelings. It hadn’t been easy, and he had spent the last eighteen months pining and feeling jealous when Dean flirted with someone else or went on a date. He had told himself a million times that he was over it, that it was behind him, but then Dean smiled and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat and his heart flipped in his chest.

“Cas?” Dean was still looking at him with a small smile. Castiel felt the last of his resistance fade away.

“All right let’s go to Victor’s party. But I still want to see that movie.”

“Yes! I’ll ask Sam if they can wait with it until tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at nine, see you then!” Dean bounced out of Castiel’s room. Castiel could hear him scurry down the stairs and then the footsteps stopped and turned back up again. Dean popped his head back into the room “It’s gonna be fun, Cas, I promise!” Dean smiled at him and disappeared again.

Castiel fell down on his bed and buried his head in his pillow. He wished that they could have spent the New Year’s Eve with Dean’s younger brother and his best friend like they had the last few years. Instead of a night filled with popcorn and joking around while watching action movies, he started to mentally prepare himself for a long night filled with loud music, speaking with people he wasn’t particularly fond of, and, worst of all, probably seeing Dean dancing with someone else, maybe kissing them at midnight. Castiel hated the feeling of jealousy. He had no right being possessive of Dean. He told himself yet again that if Dean got together with someone he was going to be happy for him, a true best friend would be happy. He thought of Iago’s line in Othello, the one about the green-eyed monster that feeds on the meat while mocking it and he knew that if he saw Dean kissing someone at midnight, his heart would break and his own green-eyed monster would consume the parts. Castiel sighed again. It was going to be a long night.

*********

Dean turned onto Cas’ street a couple of minutes before nine o’clock. He parked across the street from his house and texted him to let Cas know that he was there. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of ‘Ramble On’ that blasted through the Impala. He got so into the song that he didn’t see Cas leave his house and jumped high in his seat when Cas knocked on the window on the driver’s side. Dean leaned over and opened the door on the other side, trying to glare at Cas who laughed at his reaction. It almost worked, until he felt his breath hitch when he saw that underneath the trench coat, Cas was wearing the soft button down in the particular shade of blue that brought out his eyes even more than usual. All of a sudden, he felt way too underdressed in his flannel. He scratched at the back of his neck and lowered the volume on Led Zeppelin.

“Shut up Cas.” He started the car. “So are you ready to party?”

“Um, I guess.”

“Listen buddy, we don’t have many parties left before high school is over, so I’m glad we’re going to this one tonight. But, like, I also know that these aren’t really your thing so if you truly want to leave, you just come tell me. Okay? If it gets too much for you then we leave. Don’t want a repeat of what happened two years ago, okay? Promise you’ll tell me if you need to leave?”

“Dean. I can leave by myself in that case.”

“Nah-uh. That’s not how this friendship works. If you need to leave, we leave together. Capiche?”

Cas gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

When they got to the party, the street was filled with parked cars and the music streamed out of the open door as people entered the house. They walked into the kitchen and found Victor distributing drinks to those who’d just arrived.

“’Course Cas.”

“Soda is fine, thank you.” Cas got his drink and left the kitchen, saying something about going to find Aaron to talk about a documentary they both had watched. Dean just shook his head and turned back to Victor.

“Hey Winchester! Good to see you man! Here,” Victor handed Dean a beer. “Novak, you want a beer too? Or a soda? Got plenty of both, and some stronger stuff too.”

“So, Vic, did you have a good time in Aspen? You got back yesterday didn’t you?”

“Yeah, the snow was perfect. It was great actually. It’s nice to spend time with family and do something fun, you know? But there’s like a limit on how much time you can spend with your parents and younger sister before you start to go a little bit crazy. Just glad I convinced them to let me have this paaartyyy!” Victor hollered the last word and the kitchen filled with loud whoops in response.

“So Jo,” Dean said and cocked his head to the side. “Midnight’s getting closer. Any plans on who you’re gonna spend it with?” Dean smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Dean had a great time. He was only a little bit drunk, the kind that just made the world seem like a happier place and made everyone funnier. He talked with Jess about her plans on becoming a nurse. He checked in with Cas. He stood next to Stevie and cheered for Charlie against Gabriel in what must have been the world’s most equal game of beer pong. Charlie finally won, but it was really close. He checked in with Cas. He danced with Lisa for a bit and then with Benny and Andrea. It was a good evening.

“Seriously Winchester?” Jo leveled him with a flat look. “You and I? Not gonna happen again. We tried that when we were fifteen. It was a total disaster, we even swore to not talk about it again, remember?”

Dean flushed at the memory. It had felt so wrong and things had been really awkward between them for a while after the kissing incident before they had decided to put it behind them. He grimaced. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right. Besides, you and I both know that there’s someone else you want. And have wanted for a really long time.”

“Wh- I… Uh… Wha- What are you talking about?”

“Don’t even try to front, Dean.��

Dean hung his head and looked down at his feet. “Am I really that transparent?” he asked quietly.

“No, you’re not. I don’t think other people know how you feel, but I’ve known you all our lives and I guess I just know how to read you.” Jo squeezed his arm and what she said made Dean feel little more relieved. Maybe the entire school wasn’t laughing at him and his ridiculously huge crush on his best friend behind his back after all?

“Dean don’t worry. I really think it’ll work out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and find Victor before midnight.” Jo winked at him and then she spun on her heel and walked away.

He peaked into the kitchen but the only people there were those needing to refill their drinks. Dean couldn’t find Cas in the dining room where Charlie was obliterating people at pong again, nor among the dancing students in the living room, nor in the den where Aaron and Chuck played a video game that seemed to require a lot of tactics. Dean cursed Victor and his family’s way too big house, making it impossible to find people while he ran up the stairs to the top floor, taking two steps at a time. At the top he met Benny who come out from one of the upstairs bathrooms.

Dean blinked a couple of times, trying to process the last few minutes. Had he really suggested to Jo that they should kiss again? Jo liked Victor? Jo knew about his feelings for Cas? But most importantly, did she really imply that he might have a chance with Cas? He looked around the room and saw that several of his friends were already starting to pair up, even though it was almost ten minutes left until the clock turned twelve. Scanning the room, he realized that he hadn’t seen Cas in a while and he suddenly felt a rush of urgency to find him. Even if he probably wouldn’t be brave enough to kiss him at midnight, he still wanted to spend the last minutes of this year and the first of the next with Cas.

“Benny have you seen Cas lately?”

“I think I saw him walk out into the garden a little while ago.”

“Thanks man!” Dean ran down the stairs again and through the kitchen where Bela smiled dangerously at him and tried to stop him, but he tore past her out the French doors. The doors slammed shut behind him as he stepped out on the patio.

“Cas? Are you here?” Dean squinted out in the garden’s darkness. He walked down the steps onto the lawn. “Cas?” He called again.

“I’m over here Dean.”

Following the sound of his voice, Dean found Cas sitting on a bench by a hedge at the far side of the garden.

“Hiya Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

“What are you doing out here?” Dean sat down on the bench next to him.

“I just needed some air.”

“Are you not having fun? Are you okay? I told you to come find me if you wanted to leave…”

“No, it’s been fine. I needed a little break, that’s all. It got so loud.” From out here, all that could be heard from the party in the house was the base from the music and the occasional excited yell. “Isn’t it close to midnight now? Shouldn’t you be in there? I bet there are a lot of them who’d want to spend midnight with you Dean.”

As if on cue, the music got quieter.

“Nah. I’d rather be here with you.”

Dean looked at Cas. Loud counting was now coming from the house. Before Dean could second guess himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Cas’. He felt Cas tense and Dean wondered if he had done something really, really stupid and ruined everything just because he lacked self-control for a moment, but then Cas melted into him and started to kiss him back. The shouts of ‘Happy New Year’ came from the house. Dean finally tore himself away from Cas’ soft lips and leaned his forehead against Cas’.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“No, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Dean lifted his head and looked at Cas. “Wait. What?”

“Dean, I’ve been in love with you since the summer before junior year.”

He couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. “Well then I have you beat, Cas. I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen.”

“Oh. Really?” Cas looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Mhm. Really, really.” They looked at each other and this time neither of them could hold in their laughter.

“Man, we really are a couple of dumbasses!” Dean said and looked at Cas’ eyes, shining with happiness.

“Maybe. I just wish we hadn’t wasted so much time…”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. I vote for us stop wasting time then.” Dean leaned in again.

Cas smiled into the kiss and when they broke apart, he asked “So what do we do now?”

“I say we kiss some more, you know, just to make up for lost time and then tomorrow I’m gonna take you on a date. A real one.”

“The first of many.”

“Yeah obviously.” They both smiled into the next kiss.

#destiel #fic #fanfiction #destiel fic #hs au #nye #first kiss #supernatural fiction #i tried to do an fiction #suze says

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kaywinchester · 4 years

Text

Costume Party

anon request: Hello again, my friend. SPN Sister!Reader fic, pretty please! Sister is invited to a Halloween party(you can determine type of party: High School, College, its up to you ;) One requirement: Sexy Costumes are mandatory. Again, you can decide the type of costume. Prior to leaving, sisters costume is revealed to S&D & needless to say, they are gobsmacked by what they are seeing, "You call that scrap of clothing a costume?!", which leads to an argument(Too protective uptight) & eventual Fluff. Thxs!

Word Count: 1,380

A/N: Hey y’al! I’m back (for the most part). Sorry, that break that I took ended up being just a little longer than I wanted it to be, but I want to get back on track here. I have a few requests right now that I will be writing so just hold on tight! Here is one, I know it ain’t halloween anymore but I loved this story idea. Enjoy! (I just had to throw in a mean girls gif, thats the first thing I thought of lol).

It was the month of October, which meant celebrating Halloween all month. Halloween was your favorite holiday, not only was it all about scary costumes and candy, but it was like celebrating hunters all month. And since Sam was all about you being normal and going to school, that meant a lot of Halloween parties going on.

You and a few of your friends were invited to a Halloween party...... a college halloween party. Ever since you decided to go to the community college not to far from the bunker, you had been meeting a lot more people and getting invited to things. This one was different though. College halloween party meant scandalous costumes.

You and your friends had been discussing on what to wear. You thought it would be fun to match or have a theme for the group. You decided on something easy and not too matchy matchy. You and all your friends were going to be different professions. Nurse, secretary, maid, firefighter, etc. You chose to be a sexy cop.

You knew Sam and Dean would throw a fit if they knew what you were planning on wearing to this party, especially knowing there'd be boys there. So you came up with a plan.

The trip to the party store was fun. Looking through all of the different wigs, hats, props, and disguises was interesting. You picked out a pair of fake handcuffs, a badge, a hat, and a few other items to put an outfit together.

..................

It was the night of the party and you were super excited to meet up with your friends. You looked in each direction in the hallway outside your room before closing the door and locking it. You threw on your costume which consisted of fishnets, a low cut top, high boots, and a skirt so short that you'd be grounded for a week if either of your brothers saw. You then squeezed into a pair of black pants and put on the cop jacket you bought at the party store. Glancing in the mirror, it covered up pretty much everything you didn't want your brothers to see.

Your phone dinged, as it was a text from one of your friends asking when you'd be there. You replied and touched up your makeup before leaving the room to head out.

Your boot heels clicked on the hard flooring and echoed through out the bunker halls. Sam and Dean looked up at the noise to see you strutting down the hallway in your “costume”.

“I’m going to a halloween party with my friends, I should be back before 1 am.” You told your brothers.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” Dean asked.

“A cop... duh.” You mocked, jingling your fake handcuffs in the air.

“Where’s this party at, and who is hosting it?” Sam asked out of curiosity.

“A few kids from school are throwing it and it’s off Sunset and Park right by town.” You explained.

“Woah, woah, you said kids from school? So this is a college party?” Dean asked.

“Uh, yeah, not like I haven't been to one.” You sassed.

“Hey! Do not give me attitude. College parties can be crazy and risky.” Dean warned.

“How would you know? You never went to college.” You smirked, earning a laugh from Sam. Dean flashed Sam the dirtiest of dirty looks and inhaled sharply.

“Look, I know how kids your age are, and I just don’t want you making any bad decisions or running into problems with people, especially boys.” Dean made himself very clear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just going so I can hang out with my friends, I don't plan on doing anything stupid.” You reassured.

“Alright, well. Be home by 11.” Dean said.

“12!” You told him as you walked towards the door.

“11.” He said sternly.

“12!” You shouted behind you as you ran out the door.

..................

As soon as you got in one of the bunker cars, you took off the extra layers you put on to pass Sam and Dean, revealing your real costume. You drove to the address that was sent out and looked around for a parking spot. You met up with your friends outside the booming house, complimenting each others costumes, you all went in together. Yup, it was pretty much like every other house party. Very little lighting, music blaring, red solo cups everywhere, loud drunk kids.

You poured yourself a drink and stood to talk to your friends, when one of your friends noticed a guy staring at you.

“Y/N, he is totally checking you out.” Mallory pointed out.

You looked over your shoulder, trying to act natural. “No he’s not.”

“Would you think I was kidding if I told you he was walking this way?” Mallory giggled.

You turned around and bumped into him. His drink spilled a little on your top.

“Shit, I am so sorry.” He spoke, reaching for a paper towel.

“No, don’t worry about it. Black shirt, can't even notice it.” You said, though you did notice the smell of the alcohol that was in whatever he was drinking.

“I’m Matt.” He smiled.

“Y/N. I don't think we’ve met.” You smiled back, looking up at him.

“It’s a shame we haven't.” His eyes looked at you up and down.

You ended up talking with Matt for the majority of the night. You had a few drinks with him, but making sure it wasn't too many to make you lose your head. You got his number at the end of the night and happily swayed to your car.

You got home around midnight. You knew you shouldn’t have been driving since you were a little buzzed, but you didn't speed and made it home. Totally forgetting about what time it was and what you were wearing, you slipped into the bunker like it was nothing.

And of course, Dean had waited up for you. Normally he wouldn't have a reason to be mad since you were home on time, but this time was a little different.

His eyes widened as he saw you walk past him.

“Wha- wa-wait a minute. Y/N! Get back here.” He said sternly.

You stumbled back and stood in front of him. And boy did he look pissed.

“What in Chuck’s name are you wearing!” He yelled.

“What, Dean, its halloween. This is my costume.” You said innocently.

“You call that scrap of clothing your costume??!!” His voice boomed.

“Uh, yeah.” You shrugged, not really knowing how to get yourself out of this one.

“Why do you smell like booze.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Cause, I was surrounded by drunk people, and I’m not one of those, so goodnight.” You turned around.

“Y/N Y/M/N, you get back here right now! Do not walk away from me!” He yelled.

“Ugh, what do you want me to say Dean. I’m being normal. A normal, non-hunting teenager who just went to a party. I was safe, and I made sure to be home on time, okay?” You explained.

“I get it okay, but you..... dressing like that! I don’t like it Y/N. I’m glad that you’re going to school and that you have friends, but don’t dress like that. I am not going to let my baby sister be seen like that. Unacceptable.” Dean said.

“Okay, okay. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry. I’ll go change.” You apologized.

“Yes, change into a turtleneck. And take a shower so you don't smell like that.” Dean called out.

“Smell like what? You?” You laughed.

“Don’t start that!” Dean yelled. Your phone started buzzing and you pulled it out to see who it was. It was Matt. You smiled and walked away.

“Who's that?” Dean asked, poking his heat out a little.

“No one.” You giggled.

“Is that a boy?!” Dean’s voice rose. You giggled more as you retreated into the hall.

You turned the corner and passed Sam in the hall as he was walking out of his room.

“Hey Sammy.” You said with a smile.

“Hey Y/N.” He said back.

You continued to walk to your room. Sam stopped in his tracks and took a double take, turning around and noticed what you were wearing.

“What the......”

“DEAN!”