#at least the cat died in my actual brothers arms. Sam died alone on the living room floor.

[southislandwren]

I saw pillars and ribbons with my naked eye tonight and I’m supposed to just be normal now? I just lived through a 7.67 KP solar storm and I have to wake up in 6 hours for school? And all this on the second anniversary of one of the most traumatic days of my life. I bet he’s up in the sky and that’s why it was so good tonight

#literally the whole day I was like reliving the trauma of getting on that fucking airplane (worst decision of my life) #and then this happened and like. idk it felt so purposeful like this storm HAD to happen on the 23rd. #just like the next storm is scheduled for the 30th. it’s planned. he planned it #crazy to me that it’s been almost 2 years now. sometimes it’s still as fresh as it was on March 31st 2021 #and other times it’s just this dull ache in the back of my mind #sorry for grief posting in the tags. but like yeah todays anniversary is in my top 3 traumatic events #(the others being the tea bell incident and March 30th) (honorable mention is watching my grandpa literally die last July) #diary post #people keep being like why don’t you fly anywhere or mom is like come to (whatever country) with me #and I’m like I am not going anywhere another fucking airplane. #do you even know what it’s like to leave someone behind knowing they’re going to die #he was like my fucking brother. he was basically my younger brother. I left my brother alone in the living room and he fucking died #at least the cat died in my actual brothers arms. Sam died alone on the living room floor. #argh I’m tired. goodnight

[adhdeancas]

Hm, mommy issues anybody? Daddy issues anybody? Yeah. Let’s unpack that a little. Not a lot.

Dean runs his hand up the back of his head, feeling the soft spikes of his haircut. It was a stupid tic he’d picked up in his teens, it usually made girls melt. The sensitive guy, the nervous guy, the guy who’s eager to please. It made him look vulnerable. Girls liked that. He started catching himself on it and stopping when he got into his twenties. 

His phone buzzes. He looks at it quickly, ignoring the stupid clench in his heart that comes with the action.

One New System Update Available: Install Now?

He sighs and turns it off.

---

Long hours in the car are usually… uneventful. Full of all kinds of empty time that frankly? Dean likes. It’s a nice break from the constant weird noises of sketchy motel rooms with paper-thin walls, from the creaking pipes in the bunker. Mostly, it’s a break from thinking about whatever batshit depressing problems they have up their ass that week. 

But this time? The open road is endless, like a really shitty, really boring acid trip. A fucking infinity of his ankle cramping up on the side roads. And Sam always gives him the stink eye when he reaches for his phone, so he can’t even do that. He does make pit stops more often than usual, so he doesn’t crawl out of his own skin, and his glares keep Sam from mentioning it. Maybe he just thinks he’s got the shits. He’ll let him keep thinking that.

At least on the pot he can check his phone.

But time and time again, he lays down a loud paper cover that doesn’t do much to cover up the griminess of the seat and sits down, and unlocks his phone. He waits until he’s fully in the stall to do it, even though he could end the suspense the second he puts Baby in park. Maybe he knows what the answer is gonna be.

What the answer always is.

No New Messages. 

He sighs. Story of his life.

---

Sam snatches his phone next time it buzzes in the cup holder before Dean can even reach for it. Dean opens his mouth to gripe, but his stomach ties itself in a knot anyway. He doesn’t know whether he wants it to be… or whether he’s dreading it. 

“Who is it?” he tries to say it casually. It sounds forced to him, but Sam doesn’t notice. 

“Cas,” he’s got this dopey little smile on his face, and Dean feels his face heat up. For no goddamn reason, it’s not like-

“Why’re you- what’s up? Anything wrong?” Dean knows Sam would’ve said right away if something was wrong, but he wants his brother to spit it out already, and Sam looks like the cat that got the cream. That means he’s about to try to be funny. 

“Nah, nah.” Sam grins again, glancing away from the phone finally. 

“Well then put it down, Nosy, what the fuck,” He’s already seen the text, whatever it is, so it’s no use, but Dean bristles anyway. It’s not like Cas would’ve sent him anything actually embarrassing, right? What was the last thing they were talking about… the best roadside pancakes? Yeah, so, it couldn’t be anything weird. Well, it’s Cas, so it could always be something weird. But nothing incriminating. Hell, Sam’s accidentally opened a nude a girl sent him one time so it’s not like it could be worse than that. Not like Cas is sending him nudes. Dean cracks a grin at the thought of what a thirst trap would look like for Cas. Probably him in a, like, half unbuttoned button up laid out in a library chair. Maybe a book in hand. An angel blade. The weapon! Not-

“He just- he just wanted to update you on where he is in Gilligan’s Island.” There’s a laugh in Sam’s voice, and Dean wants to know why. Probably just the way Cas described it, he always finds this certain way of saying things that’s just… kinda endearing and kinda confusing.

“He’s watching without me? Son of a bitch!” 

Sam smirks. “Yeah, he and Jack. Jack finished Pirates of the Carribean and he wanted more island stuff.”

Dean shakes his head. “Motherfuckers…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You want me to text him back for you?”

Dean rolls his shoulders out. “It’s fine, I’ll just do it at the next stop.”

They pull into the next gas station and Dean doesn’t look at his phone again until he’s hidden. 

---

Because Sam is a nosy bitch, he asks. Well that, and he’s really tired of the car ride taking twice as long with all the stops they’re making. Dean’s usually a ‘pee in a bottle and don’t pitch a fit’ kind of driver, himself included (Sam’s scarred for life at this point), but now? It’s like they’re traveling with a six year old kid, stopping every hour.

The third stop in Oklahoma alone, he stops Dean. “Okay, do we need to go to the hospital?”

Dean quirks his eyebrows and frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s got a clue what they’re talking about.

Sam bitches with his whole face. “We’ve been stopping every four fucking feet for days now, so you’re either dying and we need to go to the ER and get an endoscopy, or-

“An endoscope who?”

Sam doesn’t take the bait. Shocker. “Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to bypass him. Sam is smarter than he looks. They grab his phone. “Sammy!” This time the word’s annoyed, a warning. Like he used to say right before he really viciously wrestled Sam to the ground and pried the last cookie out of his delicate little hands when they were kids.

Unfortunately, Sam has a height and reach advantage. He holds the phone up and Dean doesn’t have a chance unless- Dean punches him in the stomach. Sam makes a winded noise but manages to keep his arm raised. He glares harder. “You’re gonna talk to me, or you’re not getting this back.”

God, they’re a bitch. “Fine, fuck you. I’ll shit the old fashioned way.” Dean saunters off to the horrifically artificial lights of the gas station, a middle finger waving back just for his little bro. 

 When he gets back, Sam’s looking much more compassionate. It’s worse. “Dean, why are you so obsessed with your phone? What’re you waiting on?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets in his car, leaving Sam to follow him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude, I’m just making sure I don’t miss any texts from Mom,” He jams the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. Sam’s door snaps the rest of the way shut with the sudden force and they yelp. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

“You’re the dramatic one right now, Dean.” Sam raises his eyebrows, condescension dripping off his expression. “Did she say she’d text soon?”

“Nope.” Dean shrugs. “Just making sure. It’s kinda my fault she died and then came back to life in a world she didn’t understand; least I can do is pick up the damn phone.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, she’s not gonna freak out if you don’t answer right away. Unclench, man.”

“Unclench?” Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Fuck off, Sam, I’m fine!”

There’s a tense silence. Dean finally starts to think he’s given up this stupid argument, but then Sam shifts in his seat. “She’s not Dad, Dean. She’s gonna come back.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Never said she was. And Dad always came back.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, just drop it, please-”

“I know how hard it is-” 

Dean’s harsh laugh cuts the car into silence again. Sam’s got that kicked puppy look on his face, Dean knows it, and he forces his shoulder to relax before talking. “Look, Sammy, I appreciate it and all but- you have no fucking clue what it’s like for your parent to just fucking… ignore you.”

“I grew up with Dad too, Dean. Hell, he lied to me until I was like 6, he ran out on both of us all the time; I never knew where he was, he never told me where he was going-”

“Yeah, well, he always picked up the phone for you, didn’t he?” Dean lets out a harsh breath and changes lanes just for something to do with his hands. 

“He’d stay out for weeks no matter how much I called-”

“Yeah, but he answered. He answered when you called, when you texted, to tell you when he’d be home or to tell you to fuck off and stop calling, but he’d answer.” Dean wipes at his eyebrow. He doesn’t care about this shit. He doesn’t fucking care. “Dad called me when he wanted to talk to me,” then Dean corrects himself “-when he wanted to tell me something. So excuse me… if I get a little antsy. But you- you don’t get it at all.” Dad and Mom, they both left him. Both ditched him as soon as they could and never looked back. Not until they needed him to hunt something. And he got it, he did. But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And just because he was pissed didn’t mean he didn’t want them to call. Expect them or hope them to text, just to check in. Something more than coordinates and a link to a news article. 

He wants someone to care about him. And fuck if that isn’t the saddest thing anybody’s ever heard. 

“Dean…” 

It’s been a full five minutes, and Dean’s been waiting for Sam to bring it back up again, to not let this stupid thing go. “What?” he says sullenly.

Sam holds the phone up so Dean can see the screen without taking his eyes totally off the road. It’s a video, and he sees Cas awkwardly holding the camera away from him, two heads of blonde hair behind him. Sam taps the play arrow. 

“Hello, Dean.” Jack waves behind him with his usual energy, and Cas looks incredibly fond. “I’m here with Jack and your mother-”

“Mary,” Mary corrects. She crosses her arms uncomfortably, but her expression is soft. 

“Mary.” Cas repeats. “I decided to invite her to come by before you and Sam got back- that is, if you’re still coming back today. Sam has been telling me that you’re not going as fast as usual, and while I do appreciate you finally gaining some self-preservation-”

Dean rolls his eyes at the smiling jab. 

“- I do hope you’ll get back tonight. Mary has requested we order pizza and chicken wings, and I got the kind you like- the Mango Habenero, but-”

“No promises they’ll be here tomorrow!” Mary calls out jokingly. Sam’s grinning behind the phone now. 

“Hurry home! I miss you!” Jack adds sincerely.

The camera turns back toward Cas fully for a moment, and he holds it way too close to his face. “Yes. I- We- just stay safe. And stop worrying. And iHop is superior to Waffle House.”

There’s a rustling noise and then the video cuts off. Sam is grinning smugly from the passenger seat. Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve been updating Cas about me?”

Sam shrugs. “We snapchat.”

“You what?”

“I send him pictures of you when you’re looking really constipated.” Sam clarifies unhelpfully. “Cas and I like to think up reasons for why you’re mad this time- avocado toast, streaks on the windshield when you try to wipe it at the gas station, that one piece of hair that does the weird-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Dean snaps. “Wait, what about my hair?”

Sam laughs. “Just drive, Dean. For the wings.”

Dean frowns and pushes Baby faster. Well… now he doesn’t have to stop so much.

He makes Sam pee in a bottle next time he has to go.

#dean winchester #mary winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #implied destiel #castiel #jack kline #my writing #ficlet

[iainwrites]

A Samhain Brouhaha

Harry Dresden, trick-or-treating with Maggie, Karrin and Mouse.  And a tie to the earliest stories I posted on here.

“Charity, you can trust me.”

“Harry, I know you’re trying to be a good man and do right, but you’re also Harry Dresden and that name doesn’t inspire a lot of trust, especially for what you’re asking for.”

“What I’m... All I’m asking for is that I can take her out for one night.  That’s all.”

“I’ve heard that request before, and we both know what came of it.”

“It was an accident!  How was I to know...”

“Yes, Harry.  How were you to know?  Something like this means you need to know, and to be prepared for whatever might happen.”

“... Mouse will be with us.  Do you trust Mouse?”

“I trust Mouse with her life.  But Mouse is just one dog and...

“Murphy will be there, too.”

“... I suppose I can trust Mouse and Karrin to keep an eye on her.  And you too.”

“Great!  Thanks, Charity.  You won’t regret this.”

       My name is Harry... Well, you know the rest.  Wizard and Warden of the White Council, Knight of Winter, Warden of Demonreach, yadda yadda yadda.  It feels like I have more titles than the Cubs at this point, and they all mean something different to someone.  After a while, it just gets tiring repeating them all, and they seem to lose their importance.

      A few years ago, none of this would have meant much for my personal life.  I lived alone, with nothing else in my life but my work and a few people kept at arm’s length that I could call my friends.  It’s funny how the years can change things.  As the world turned, my life kept getting more and more... complete, I guess.  Filled, maybe.  I found out that there are people who look up to me, then that I had a brother, got a dog, found out I had a daughter, then a sort-of-girlfriend-I-think.  Oh, and I died once, became possibly irreversibly connected to one of the greatest powers in the magical community, might possibly be losing my morality, and am currently the master of a jail that makes Area 51 look like an amusement park.  But those things aren’t as important as the family side.

      All of my history, those titles and that backstory doesn’t mean much tonight.  Everything else is pushed to the side, and tonight I’m wearing only one of those mantles.  Maybe the most valued one.  Tonight, I am Harry Dresden: Dad.  And with that mantle comes a responsibility like no other I have shouldered before.

      “Alright, Maggie.  We’ll go whenever you want to.  Charity made sure I know the list of houses that we can go to, and Mouse-bacca will make sure that anyone who's acting too spooky won’t bother us, okay?”

      “Okay...”

      “What?  You don’t believe in the Great Mouse-bacca?  I mean, he might not look like much, but he’s got it where it counts, right?”

      The walking carpet that is my dog actually manages something that sounds closer to a Chewbacca warble than his usual chuffing sound.  Matched with the belt slung around his middle and a little bit of brown dye, it’s hard to mistake him for anything other than a Wookie.  The rest of us are dressed in a way that makes it impossible to see us as anything but nerds.

      Maggie, with the help of a mother who has spent more years making costumes than anyone else I can begin to think of, is dressed up in a Rey costume, complete with a little lightsaber.  Karrin and I nearly came to blows over what we were going to wear.  I’m... well, ME, so of course I’d be the dashing and roguish Han Solo, right?  And my partner is a giant, furry thing.  It practically writes itself!  Karrin argued that I’m the dork and should be Luke Skywalker, while she’s the cool guy with the gun.  She may have also mentioned something about being able to kick my ass.  And so here she stands in her black vest and over-sized pistol at her side and looking (damn me for saying this) appropriately Han Solo-y.

      I wasn’t content with being Luke, and am not nearly old enough to be rocking the Sir Alec Guinness look, so I settled on something a little more my style.  Thanks to a mop of hair as a result of living out on a deserted island for way too long, a scar across an eye thanks to a past encounter and a penchant for flirting with the dark side of magic, I gussy myself up as an over-sized Anakin, pre-lava bath.  With a little help from Andy, we managed to make up a casing for my blasting rod that looks like the hilt of a lightsaber.  A little focus and the blade lights up with a nice shade of blue, thanks to a little help from Winter.  We couldn’t figure out how to get it to sound right, so I end up making the sounds myself.  All in all, we look like a nice, nerdy family out for some trick-or-treating.  And that’s how it all began: a nice, nerdy sort-of family trick-or-treating together.

      I was worried when we started out that all of the costumes, noise and excitement might be too much for Maggie.  I mean, there’s a lot that usually goes on during Halloween night.  For the normal people, at least.  There’s the noises, the lights, the people running around costumes that go from home-made to movie quality.  And while she starts off close to Mouse, Murphy and me at any particular time, she eventually starts to look the way she should: a little girl out on Halloween, hitting up houses for a sugar fix.  She might not be running around Hell and Creation like some of the other munchkins out there, but there is a smile on her face, and a little bounce in her step.

      Mouse, Murphy and I take turns going up to doors with her, each of us to varying degrees of success.  Mouse always seemed to be a lock for more candy, because whenever she comes back the bag feels a lot heavier.  When she goes up with Murphy, Karrin comes back with a smile on her face, with just a hint of conflict hidden underneath.  A part of me wants to ask; the intelligent part knows to stay quiet.  The detective part of me has suspicions.  When she was married to Rich, there was tension around them having kids and her staying home to take care of them.  Going up to a door with a kid for Halloween and being told that your “daughter” is cute is probably playing around in head each time.

      When I take her up, I get to experience my own brand of head and heartache.  I keep hearing them ooh and ahh over her costume, and how sweet or cute or cool she looks, then there’s the looks up to me.  And I hear them say again how sweet she looks.  And it tears a piece out of my heart each time.  Susan and I should be taking her out for this.  Susan should be here with our daughter.  Our daughter should never have had to go through everything she’s gone through.  She should be living a normal life, spooked of the costumes at Halloween because she has an overactive imagination, not because of what she’s lived through.  And I smile, try not to loom so much, thank them and squeeze my little girl’s hand when we walk back to the street.  I steel myself for the next time that I’ll hear those words, and try to make the most out of this first father/daughter Halloween.

      On my side of the magical divide, Halloween has this recent habit of being more exciting each year.  The wearing down the divide between the living and the dead, necromantic rituals, changing of mantles, and the killing of immortals seem like they’re only the tip of the iceberg these days, and there’s always the little whisper in my ear that there’s going to be more.  Somehow, I manage to trick myself for a fair portion of the night that this one will be different.  That the creepy crawlies from the other side will take the night off and give me a chance to have a well-deserved break.

      Yeah, right.  The author of my life isn’t ever going to be that nice to me.

      The first indication is the sudden jerk of Mouse’s leash.  He’s usually happy to trot along at his own pace, with the leash there to show everyone he’s a well-behaved dog.  It’s not uncommon for him to stop and smell the proverbial roses; but for him to stop because there’s something he wants to stop, that’s enough to get my attention.  The only thing that stands out around us is a small pack of costumed clowns hanging a little ways back.  They all have the shabby zombie costume that seems to keep its firm grip from year to year, combined with some cheap masks.  The clothes portion of the costumes are pretty good, comparatively; they look distressed, like there was some actual damage to them.  I know those kinds of rips and tears intimately.  They even got the blood patterns around the tears right.

      The night gets cold when I realize that some of the rips and the stains look fresh.  And have that quality that costumes either exaggerate or downplay.  I look from the costumes to the people (no, things) wearing them.  They move in sync, coordinated.  My brain goes back to my throw-away description of them and revises is: a little ways back behind us is a small Pack of costumed wolves.

      The Pack.  A holdover from an old fight some Hunters and I should have finished and buried.  They’re a roaming group of monsters who hunt together, and have been the death of innocents and those that have tried to stop them.  The legendary Hunter John Winchester worked with the fledgling Black Cats to kick their asses up around their mouths decades back.  After a misunderstanding, Karrin and I teamed up with his sons, Sam and Dean, to ring the bell on Round 2.  We didn’t finish them off, but I thought we left them with a nose that was so bloody that they’d never want to try hunting together again.  Apparently, the lesson wasn’t definitive enough for them, because here they stand, lesser in number but still a threat to everyone walking this street.

      Karrin must have realized that we’ve been left behind, because she calls back to us.  “You okay, Harry?”

      Mouse clues in that I’m clued in and goes from alert growl to “stay way the hell away” growl.  “Yeah,” I reply.  “Mouse just has to use the little doggy’s tree.  We’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”

      “You sure?  We can wait.”

      My gut starts to get wrenched around.  I want my daughter to be safe, and safe is away from these things.  But if she’s sent away, that means I can’t be there to protect her.

      But Murphy will be there, and short of Michael, she’s the one person I know I can trust to keep my daughter safe.  “We’ll be there in a bit.  I’m going to take Mouse away from the street so nobody has to get caught up in it.  Have you been feeding him table scraps again, Maggie?  Because you’ll have to clean up you’ve been sneaking taco’s to Mouse.”

      My daughter gives off a little giggle and Mouse lets off the subsonic growl long enough to give a happy little chuff.  I pat his head, wave to Karrin and Maggie and start to lead him to an alley, digging out one of the plastic bags we’ve been using for Maggie’s haul.  I see Karrin look from me to Mouse, to the Pack and unlatch her blaster.  Just like I put a case around my blasting rod, she has a plastic shell around her service pistol.  It might not be much, but it’ll sure as hell slow down anything that I let get past me.

      The Pack seem to size up Karrin and Maggie as they leave.  Their gaze stays on them for a very uncomfortable time, before slowing coming back to me.  The message is loud and clear: “We saw them, we’ll remember them and we’ll find them.”  Yeah?  I have my own message.

      “Okay, assholes.  You were dumb enough to sign up for Round 3, so let’s find a nice quiet corner so I can beat on you like I’m Rocky.”

      As they follow me, one makes its way out of the main body, to stand in front of them like a spokesperson.  I can tell even underneath the costume what it is, and a fire starts to burn through my veins.  Human sized, but not human like. Extra-long arms that end in claws.  An unhealthy color that some could pass off as make-up but I recognize as naturally disgusting.  And behind the mask, eyes that are weighing and measuring you up for its plate.  A ghoul.  A ghoul who has seen my daughter.  Ever since the Red Court was dealt with, the whole race of ghouls have been moved up to the top of my “Things That World Will Never Miss” list.  This one just reserved extra special placement.

      I take my hand off of Mouse’s lead as he and I turn in sync to stare at the Pack.  The lead ghoul stops only a few feet away from me.  The alley is barely wide enough for Mouse and I to stand side-by-side, but that also means that they’re limited by how many can come forward at a time.  It’s not my favorite ring to fight in, but there’s been worse.  “Okay.  Say your piece, then let’s get started.”

      “You assume too much, wizard,” the ghoul says to me.  I’m not sure if it’s actually speaking English or if I still understand Ancient Sumerian as a parting gift from Lash.  Whatever the case, it sounds like a snake slithering over broken bottles.  “What stops the hunters at the mouth of the alley from going back out to the street?  You?  The dog?”  Damn it.  “No.  You will hear what we have to say, you and the beast will die, then we will go out and continue our hunt.”

      “Alright, Smiley.  Let’s hear it, then.”

      “You are known, Wizard.  You are remembered.  The Pack knows your scent.  You went to ground, but have decided to appear again.”  There’s a murmur behind the ghoul that could politely described as “agreement”, if agreement was made up of growls and rumbles.  “You may have bested us in the past, but that is when you hunted with others.  The Winchesters.  They are known to us.  They are remembered.  They will be found.”

      For a ghoul, this guy is practically Shakespeare.  This is the most I’ve ever heard from one before and it all comes across as understandable.  “Alright.  So what’s your point here?  Are you just going to keep talking until I go into a coma so you don’t have to strain yourself?”  I keep my attention off of it and on the ones in the back in case they decide to amscray back onto the street like they were threatening to do.  “Because there’s actually stuff that I want to do tonight.  If that means I have to walk through all of you to get there, and this sounds weird coming from me, let’s stop talking and get it done.”

      “No, Wizard.  You do not decide the Hunt.  The Pack hunts its prey, and when it is cornered, their lives are ours.  You, a human, have no say in what happens.  Should we decide to kill you, you will die.  Should we decide to eat your beast, it will be eaten.  If we decide to hunt your mate and your whelp, they are ours for as long as we wish and for what we wish.”

      “You don’t want to do this,” I mutter, while Mouse begins to growl behind me.  The only mercy I can think of is that Karrin is away from us, and that Maggie will be safe with her.  I might even be able to take a few of them with me.  I might be able to protect my daughter from what’s to come.

      The ghoul doesn't break eye contact with me, but I’m willing to be to bet that it knows what’s going on and what’s going to happen.  The cocky bastard doesn’t even seem to care.  “Oh, I think I do, wizard.  I think I will.”  The Pack behind him shifts, the sounds of claws scraping ground, of bones snapping and reforming into monstrous forms.  I get a death grip on the lightsaber case and start to will my power into it.

      Why?  Why does this always have to happen?  I try to take my daughter out for something nice, like a trip to the zoo or out for Halloween, only for things to go sideways on us.  This life, this job, this responsibility... I’m okay with it.  But I want to be a father once in a while.  I want to try and give Maggie a normal life whenever possible, but something seems so damn set in ruining that for us.  There is always something that shows up and ruins things and keeps me from connecting with my own daughter.  Susan should be here.  Our lives shouldn’t be so... wrong.  She should be allowed to grow up with a mother and a father and never have to worry about all of these things.  All of this is happening and I’m just about ready to...

      Something around us changes.  I’m not even aware of it until I hear something shift in Mouse’s voice.  It still carries a sound of warning, but there’s something else.  Anticipation?  Excitement?  A certain reckless happiness that his human sometimes shows?  He’s ready for a fight, but there’s something that’s allowing him to relax, even in the smallest ways.  He’s not worried about the fight.  From what I hear, he might even be looking forward to it.  I do a quick scope around me to see what could flip the switch in him.  Turns out it’s a lot closer than I’d ever expect.

      It’s my blasting-saber.  A firey shade of orange is starting to appear in the core nearest the hilt.

      Its old color.  Something from years ago that has since been covered in Winter ice.

      MY old color.  A color of will, and excitement, and barely controlled power, all of it coming from me.  Not a mantle.  Not a mostly immortal Faerie Queen.  

                                                      Me.

      I bring my eyes back up to the ghoul, and I smile.  It’s not a nice smile, but it’s one with a promise.  “Let me rephrase that.  You’re NOT going to do this.”

      The remnants of the Pack shift, the faces under their costume masks shifting.  Most of them change their posture and flex their hands, getting ready for the fight they’ve been working themselves up for all night.  What they don’t understand is that the moment they looked at my daughter, they didn’t have a chance in Hades.

      “Here’s why you’re not going to do that.  In fact, here’s why after tonight, you’re never going to see each other every again.”  A few give off growling laughs.  “I am Harry Dresden.  I am a wizard and Warden of the White Council.”  “Warden” makes a few of them twitch.  “I am chosen by Mab, Queen of Winter, Air and Darkness to be her Knight.  I wear the mantle of Winter, and I wear it very damn well.”  Mouse has stopped growling by now, as though he doesn’t want to take any attention off of me.  “I am Warden of Demonreach, jailer to nastier bastards than you’ll all ever be.  Combined.”  The blue of my blasting-saber exists only on the outside of the blade; fire is making up the core and it’s becoming a brighter shade of red with my every word.  “I am Bane of the Red Court.  The one who has outplayed and overcome Death.  My ride is one of the greatest predators to ever roam this earth, and I brought it back from millennia of rest. I am Ally to Hunters and Slayers.  I know and will invoke the names Winchester and Summers.  I have been tempted by and refused a coin of the Blackened Denarius.  I have led the Wild Hunt.”  THAT gets their attention like I know it would.

      The air around us suddenly gets warmer.  Almost spring-like, like the nights you sit outside near a fire.  There might be a chill in the air, but there’s also the promise of warmth and comfort.  The snow starts to melt and the grass can be seen again, and there might even be the faint sign of flowers starting to bloom.

      Life and warmth after a snow that never seemed like it would leave.

      The various creatures in front of me start to look around, probably trying to figure out what all this means.  The quicker ones figure it out and look at me, the hostility they had been showing before beginning to melt away, revealing something almost like fear.  But right now?  Fear is not enough.  Fear can be conquered or forgotten.  They need to feel something much more permanent.

      “I am Harry Dresden.  This is MY city.  And this is MY night.  I claim it by birth and by my strength.”  The tension that’s been building in this little alleyway just... pops around me.  If there’s a pressure, I don’t feel it anymore.

      “You have threatened my daughter, and I will protect her.  Ask the Red Court what that promise means.”  I let those words hang in the air, full of meaning and threats.  “This is my city, and I will protect it.  Ask anyone how far I’ve gone to keep it safe, and what happens to the people that threaten it.”  I let my blasting-saber dip until it nearly touches the pavement, which starts to send up wisps of smoke.  “The people who live here are my people, and I.  Will.  Protect.  Them.  Ask the Heirs of Kemmler and the Black Court what that oath means.”

      I don’t make any of this a challenge, or a brag, or something to piss them off.  These are all things that simply are.  They’re all true, like that the sun rises or that water is wet.  You can argue and try to ignore it all you want, but these things are, have been and always will be.  I am who I am, and I do what I do, no matter the mantle I wear, or what tries to change me.

      “So here’s what you’re going to do.  Tonight, I curse the name ‘Pack.’”  There’s another subtle pop in the air as those words gain meaning and permanence.  Words have power, and I invest a portion of my own self into those words.  “All those who live under it do so under pain of... Well, death is too nice.  Non-existence.  Erasure from history.  I will call in every favor, from the crater of Sunnydale to the Isle of Manhattan and every road of that cuts across this country.  You will cease to exist.  You will never be spoken of and you will never be remembered.  And you will all die bloody.”  I draw my gaze from one face to another, never letting off until they look away first.  They wouldn’t need to Soul Gaze me to know what is on my mind; it’s pretty damn apparent to any of them with half a clue.  “You will never run together again.  You will not do it under the name Pack, or any other name.  Because if I hear so much as a rumor that a group of creatures attacked an innocent person, you’re done.  You will be found, then you will be gone.  This right here is your only warning.  Any questions?”

      “And you,” I say to the ghoul.  I start walking forward, the cape billowing behind me, my blasting-saber burning a line in the ground.  I get right up to its face, and lean down towards its ear.  “I really, really hate fucking ghouls,” I whisper.  “And I know how hard your kind is to kill.  I have experience with that.  But you want to know something?”  

      I whip the blasting-saber down and take its hand off at the wrist.  We both look down at it in surprise.  I was expecting some burning, maybe a little cut, but not full blown lightsaber action.  I doubt it was expecting anything at all.  We both bring our eyes back up and I stare it down one more time.  “I have one more title for you: I was the Fire of Camp Kaboom. There was a message that was sent back with a survivor.  I told it ‘Never Again.’”  And I bring the blade flashing up in an arc and sear through its head with barely any resistance.  The head drops with a stunned look on its face as the body falls back into the hastily made space its friends make.

      “Never again.  Never again in my presence, in my city or to my people.”  I bring my gaze to each of them once again, but this time, nobody is too excited to look me in the eye.  “Do I need to repeat that to any of you?”  None of them reply. I snake out the blasting-saber again and take a chunk out of a rawhead and take out what looks to be a rugaru at the waist. That’s the sign they needed to break away and run, but not before I take a couple of slashes at their retreating asses.  I manage to down some; Mouse manages to run down another before it makes it to the mouth of the alley.  The ones I see escape split up.  When I step back onto the street, they’re long gone.

      Mouse and I take some time getting rid of the bodies, thanks to some creative uses of Ways and a few convenient garbage cans. The ghoul got some extra-special treatment, just like I promised.  I only realized how much time had actually passed when we finally caught up to Murphy and Maggie.  They’re less than a block away from the Carpenter’s home, with Karrin carrying an impressive haul of sugar filled goodness.  Even with all the best intentions, I still missed my first night of trick-or-treating with my daughter.  I try not to let my disappointment show as I lope up to them and ruffle Maggie’s hair.

      “Ha... Dad?  Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m okay.  Just had to help Mouse clean up a mess.”

      “Your lightsaber is red.  Um... Isn’t red the color bad guys use in Star Wars?”

      “A lot of them do.  But remember the end of Return of the Jedi?”

      “We never finished it.  The Emperor... I don’t like what he says to Luke.”

      “He’s a pretty scary guy, and his threats are pretty serious.  But when he threatens Luke, Vader decides that his son is more important than his master.  He decides to fight against the Dark Side.”

      “So... Vader... becomes a good guy?”

      “It’s... complicated.  He did bad things, but family helped him so he could try to be good again.  He decided what to do, and that he didn’t want to follow the Emperor’s orders anymore.”

      “So, you’re like Darth Vader.”

      “... Yeah.  And the people I care about are helping me come back to the Light Side of the Force.  There’s going to be... bad things in my past, and there are going to be people who tell me what I have to be, but I decide whether that’s who I am.”

      “That’s... you’re kind of a cool guy.”

“Cooler than Han Solo?”

      “Well Mouse is cooler than Chewbacca, and he’s your partner.  So I guess that means you’re cooler than Han.”

I admit, it kills some of the cool vibes, but I squeeze Karrin on the shoulder and as she looks up at me, I stick out my tongue like I’m a kid.  I get an elbow in my hip in return, but it’s worth it.   I’ve never gone out trick-or-treating before tonight, so my expectations were pretty low.  But this was actually pretty fun.  And my daughter thinks I’m a cool dad.  Yeah.  That’s never going to go to my head.

      “Hey, Dad?”

      “Yeah, kiddo?”

      “Do you want to stay after we get back and watch Return of the Jedi?  If you’re there, I think I can make it past the Emperor this time.”

      “I’d love to, Maggie.”

      Murphy gives my hand a tug, and gives a nod of her head to let me know she wants to whisper something to me.  

      “I don’t know everything that happened, but you were pretty amazing tonight, Dresden.  And it’s your birthday.  There’s a Slave Leia costume I think we should break in later.”

      I love Halloween.

      “But you’re wearing it.”

      … Happy birthday to me.

#Iain writes #Dresden Files

[idreamofhazel]

The Death Curse Ch. 1

After last week’s episode where the girl who flirted with Sam died, I couldn’t help but think about Sam’s poor reputation with women... So then I got the idea to fix it with a fic. But I have to break it real good first, so, uh, strap in I guess?

Summary: Y/N is moving into the bunker with Sam. There’s fluffiness, for now.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

Everything was nearly moved in. The old Men of Letters bed had been swapped out for Y/N’s queen sized, much newer mattress, and her dresser had been precariously transported down the Bunker’s stairs and into the bedroom. It almost didn't fit through the doorway. Sam insisted they take the drawers out first, claiming it would lighten the load and keep the handles from scraping the inside of the doorframe, but Dean insisted the opposite because “they kill pagan gods, a dresser is a piece of cake!” So the drawers stayed in. One of the handles did make shallow scratch on the frame, but Sam didn’t notice and Dean diverted his attention away from the “I told you so” moment by making his own I Told You So face at Sam.  

The Bunker’s rooms weren’t ideal for sharing. They had been made for individual men sleeping alone and living here for the purpose of studying, much how Sam Winchester had been using his space. Now there was a woman preparing to live here, too. After placing the furniture, there was considerably less floor space than there had been, with the larger bed and second dresser, but the changes transformed the bedroom from a bare sleeping space into a shared bedroom. Neither Sam nor Y/N cared about more floor space.

“I still can’t believe you’re letting her move in here,” Dean said, hands on his hips while he surveyed the room.

Sam looked at Dean, his eyes saying “what the heck, man!” as he glanced over at Y/N to remind Dean she was, in fact, standing right there.

“I mean in your room,” he explained, “You always keep things just so, and we all know she doesn’t.”

It was Y/N’s turn give Dean the stink eye.

She walked over to Sam, put her arm around his waist, and pulled him in close. “It’s called love, Dean. It makes you do crazy things,” she said in the most airy voice she could conjure.

Dean rolled his eyes playfully and waved her off before spinning on his heels and exiting the room. “Love schmove,” he called from down the hall.

Sam was still frustrated when Y/N looked up into his eyes. She gently tugged on his waist until he relaxed and swayed with her. “He’s only teasing. Come on, let’s finish setting up our room.”

Sam sighed before looking down at her. “Our room. I like the sound of that,” he said with a smile, turning Y/N by her waist until she faced him.

“Mmm, me too,” she said, leaning in and meeting Sam for a kiss. She melted into it, letting him pull her in as close as he could and thread his hand through her hair. Then, all too soon for Sam, she pulled away, leaving him wanting more. “Time to get to work!” she said.

Sometime later, after more sorting and putting away, and the occasional kiss that Sam stole, Y/N carried an armful of her own books into the library. Sam was trailing behind her, toting the last few she couldn’t, when Dean came in with three beers.

He held them up before placing them on the table. “Thought you guys might need a break.”

“That sounds great,” Sam said, dropping his books on a table.

“I’m putting these away first,” Y/N said as she walked the shelves, looking for an open section.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean.

“You never stop going, do you?” Dean said.

“No,” she said pointedly. “And it’s saved both of our asses more than once.”

Dean chuckled. “I can drink to that. It’s going to come in handy in the future too, I’m sure.”

Y/N squinted at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, Sammy here doesn’t have the best track record with women.” Dean tried to hide the smirk on his face with a drink of beer, but he did a poor job of it.

“How so?”

“Dean, stop,” Sam said, “It’s not funny.”

“I mean, it kind of is,” Dean said.

“What’s funny?” Y/N was still searching the shelves, one of her books teetering dangerously on the edge of her arm.

“Nothing,” Sam said.

“Just a running joke we, well I have,” Dean said, “About the lifespan of Sam’s girlfriends.”

“It’s stupid,” Sam said, “And not true. I have...at least two previous girlfriends who are still alive.”

“That’s not that great of a record. Most of my exes are still alive.”

“The point is, Y//N has nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m cursed.”

At this point, Y/N had tuned out their conversation even though she had stopped walking just beside the table they sat at. She found a spot for her books on one of the shelves perpendicular to the wall. As she crouched down to reach the empty shelving, she lost her balance and fell forward, hitting the shelf and spilling her books onto the floor. But before she could completely hit the floor, a hand yanked her up and back, and a sword fell where had been squatting.

“Where did that come from?” she gasped.

Dean dropped her hand. “That sword’s been sitting on the shelf forever, it’s been here every time you have.”

“Dean, stop,” Sam said, coming between them, “Are you ok?” he asked Y/N, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“My wrist hurts a little from being yanked, but, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Be thankful it wasn’t your neck,” Dean said.

“Can we just put this back up on the shelf and maybe make sure it’s secure?” Sam said.

“Yeah, I’ll stack them. Y/N, maybe you should take your break now,” Dean said.

“Ok… But the books have to be in alphabetical order!” she said, waving her finger at Dean.

Sam directed her over to a chair before she could nag at Dean again, but she kept a close eye on him as he picked up the sword and then her books. She scrutinized every placement he made, and when he was done, she inspected the books one by one. Her library was the one thing she kept meticulously organized, and she wasn’t about to let Dean Winchester mess that up.

Later that evening, after all of Y/N’s belongings were put away, and after dinner had been eaten and the details of a new case picked over, Sam and Y/N retired to their room for their first night of sleep after moving in together. This wasn’t the first time they had slept in the same bed; they’d been dating the eight months, but everything felt new to Y/N. They were familiar with each others belongings and routines, knew how much toothpaste the other liked to use and what time they liked to go to bed, but there was still something enthralling and a little awkward in the air about realizing they lived together.

Sam watched Y/N walk to her dresser and pull open a drawer only to realize the shirt she wanted was hanging in his closet from the last time she’d been over. He watched her huff and turn around, almost running into the bed on her way over to the closet. He chuckled to himself before slipping his sleep shirt over his head. When his head popped through the collar, Y/N was falling into the closet.

He rushed over to grab her, but couldn’t move fast enough. She fell forward, clinging onto his hanging flannels for support, only to have one of them slip off the hanger and send her falling the rest of the way to the floor.

“Ow!” she yelped. “What do you have that’s so hard and pointy back here?”

Sam rushed over to help her up, pulling her by her arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“The shirt I wanted was all the way against the wall. I was trying to reach back and grab it,” she pouted.

Sam couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I have pretty long arms. Ask for help next time.”

“Maybe you could help by not putting dangerous things in your closet!” Y/N rubbed the small of her back.

“Lemme see.” Sam turned her around, lifting the back of her shirt. There was a scrape just to the left of her spine. The skin had broken in one spot and blood was beginning to pool and drip. “It’s just a scrape. I have some boxes on the floor. You probably fell on one. Come on, we’ll get you bandaged up.”

Y/N sighed, turning back around to face him. “I feel like your bunker is out to get me.”

“Nah, you’re just clumsy,” Sam teased, leading her out of the room.

“Hey!” She swatted at the back of head lightly. “Now when have you ever known me to be clumsy?”

Sam thought on that question for a moment. “Never, actually.”

“Exactly. I’m like a cat, which is why I’m a better hunter than you or your brother.”

Sam stopped in his tracks and spun around, causing Y/N to stop with her face almost in his chest. “Oh is that right?” he challenged.

“Mhm,” she said confidently, hands on her hips.

“Then how can I do this!” Sam took Y/N by surprise, tickling her sides and backing her into a wall. She was bent over in a fit of giggles, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam! Stop...that’s not….fair!” She tried shoving him away, but it was no use. He was too strong and had disarmed her. She was ticklish, and Sam knew all of her weak spots.

Finally, he took his hands away, leaving her gasping for breath. She looked up and pushed him back playfully. “Not cool! You’re supposed to be taking care of this injury that’s your fault!”

“Oh it’s my fault, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, standing up straight.

Sam could do nothing but shake his head at her and laugh. “Alright, alright. Let’s fix you up and then get you to bed. And then hopefully you won’t be so clumsy in the morning.”

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes one last time that night while walking with Sam down the hall to get bandaids. Sam was rarely playful, but Y/N didn’t mind it when he was. He was just happy about her moving in, and she was too. It was a major step for both of them after many failed relationships and lives too dangerous to get someone else involved in. Settling down hadn’t been in either’s plans, but it crept up on them unexpectedly. Neither could deny the chance for a different kind of life once they realized the opportunity. And now here they were, having taken a risk, trusting in fate and each other to make this work. Sam and Y/N had no doubts, except maybe in her ability to navigate her new home without injuring herself.

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#sam x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester series #sam winchester is cursed #dick of death #let's see if i can fix this

[sammyhale]

J2 TorCon 2017 Main Panel

J2 jump onstage!

Jensen: Do you know what week it is?? We premiere this Thursday. 

Jensen is also talking about Jared being on Jimmy Kimmel this Thursday as well :)

“My dear friend Mr. Jared Padalecki will be on Jimmy Kimmel Thursday Oct 12th so tune in” - Jensen promoting Jared. Jared: Ackles warmed him up for me...so tune in guys, we’re gonna have some fun. Jensen: Yeah, it’ll be a big night. We’re very excited about it. 

What memory would Sam and Dean stick to if they died (like Bobby with his memory of the boys)? Jared mentions the flashbacks in Swan Song and the “I’m proud of us” moment. Jensen says a collection of good moments (bros reuniting, stuff with John, Mary, Bobby, Cas) but also those moments of killing big bads. 

What story would you extend/elaborate on? Jared says Demon!Dean and Soulless!Sam. Jensen: Dean in Purgatory. 

Fan mentions her Russian blue cat named Winchester. Jensen: It’s a blue cat from Russia. That’s all you need to know. 

Boys go off on accents and jokes. At one point, Jared says: “If there was a place in Toronto that served Vladimir Poutine I would totally go and take Winchester with me.” Jensen and the audience crack up. Jensen: That dude’s got a blue cat. And he’s eating poutine. 

Who would you vote as the most ditchable prom date of the cast? Jensen: Cas. Jared: Story-wise, probably Sam. This is gonna sound the wrong way, but, Sam probably should’ve ditched Ruby. Jared got the better end of the deal lol. 

Young fan says her name is Lilith. J2 very quickly back up and Jared knocks over his chair lol. She asks their favorite monster. Jared: I’m gonna say Lilith. Jensen: Me too, because if they’re all as cute as you, they’re my favorite. She says her fav monster is a ghost. J2 tell her that if she ever meets one, she should call her friends Sam and Dean. 

Fav childhood memory? Jensen: Very happy childhood, lots of good memories. For his fourth birthday he got to ride a horse for the first time. Wore his cowboy vest. Jared: He still has it. 

Jared: Now I feel weird about my answer! Broke his arm when he was seven and was in the hospital for a week, got spoiled in the hospital, getting candy, baseball cards...At the time, there was a rare card available where a player had written bad words on the bottom of his bat and the card company only realized it appeared in the image halfway through printing, so everyone was searching for the rare versions that had been printed. Jared’s dad would bring him a pack of baseball cards every day. 

If you could create an episode, what would it be. Jared: The world’s most boring episode. The boys doing their laundry. Wants to see Sam and Dean doing behind the scenes stuff. 

Jensen talks about a movie “Sliding Doors.” One choice that creates two split timelines and following both. Thinks that would be cool.

Advice for Sam and Dean in s13: Jensen: Knowing what I know, I would tell Dean not to jump to conclusions...talk amongst yourselves! Jared laughs. 

 Jared is trying so hard not to spoil anything: “I would say...not to get too attached. TALK AMONGST YOURSELVES.” 

Jared is doing accents. Jensen: Keep going you’re killing it. 

Fav part about working together? Jared: Days off. Jensen: Then we’re not working together. Both: TALK AMONGST YOURSELVES lmao. 

Jensen: There are a lot of things, but one of the best is that we laugh so much. In case you couldn’t tell. 

Jared talks about how it doesn’t feel like work, especially with the Sam and Dean scenes. 

J2 have spiraled into Coffee Talk impressions.

Any spoilers? Jensen: Prepare yourselves...for some interesting characters this season. Jared laughs and pretends to be shocked: I can’t believe you said that! Jared: New characters and you’ll see some fan favorites come back. 

If Sam and Dean could bring back one character? Crowd starts shouting names. Jensen: Did someone just say Jon Snow?  

Jensen: Would love to bring back Azazel...so I could kill him again. 

Jared chose Charlie, because she brings out a different side of the boys. Jensen adds Benny to the list, Jared also mentions Sully. 

Fan: Do you think Ruby will come back, mentions wanting Danneel on the show. Jared jokes that he would have to watch the kids and do the real work. Gen was able to come back for French Mistake but not sure if she’d be able to now. Jared agrees that he wants to see Danneel on the show, too. Jensen: She’s rockin’ three kids, too!

Jensen says that those decisions aren’t up to him. Says if they were the show would have been canceled a long time ago. Jared jokes about how if it was up to J2 they would just cast all of their friends. “Who’s that guy?”

Jared: What character would Danneel play? Audience shouts, Baby! Jensen: That could complicate things. Boys want to make a dirty joke but they cut themselves off lol. 

Someone in the audience is yelling out Garth. Boys can’t understand what they’re saying. Bunch of fans start yelling Garth, boys finally get it. Jared laughs and says it reminds him of Finding Nemo when the seagulls are saying “mine, mine, mine” over and over. He looked into the crowd and just saw a bunch of people going, “Garth, Garth, Garth” lmao. 

Jensen: If Danneel came on the show would you want her to be good or bad? Fan: Good. Jensen: But she plays bad so well. Jared nods. Jensen nods, goes to make a comment and cuts himself off lol. 

Fan: How does it feel to have fans like this? Jensen talks about how it took him awhile to really get it. Used to be more in his shell. Now he says it’s fuel for him seeing this kind of devotion. 

Jared is amazed at a fan’s incredible SPN body art. Boys are complimenting her on the amazing body art. 

Jared says don’t ever think that they think we’re “weird” for being too dedicated to the show. Because they are just as weird as us. Jared: If you’re crazy for spending 24 hours (on fan’s body art) then we’re crazy for spending 13 years. 

Fan: Was there a real Trickster, or was the lore about Gabriel? Jared thinks there was no Trickster, that it was just Gabriel hiding. 

Jared pronounced gif like jif. Jensen does not approve. Apologizes on his behalf for being silly lol. 

Any sport/activity you’ve always wanted to try? Jared mentions cricket, stunt driving courses...Jensen: Stunt driving is not a sport. Jared also mentions motocross. Doesn’t want to get himself hurt. Jensen: Kite surfing. Jensen says it needs to be a place without sharks. Fans: Great Lakes! Jensen: I don’t believe that. They’re in there. Just deep.

Funniest moment to film? Jensen: There are moments on a daily basis that make it impossible to film because they’re laughing. They mention the Chupacabra bit. 

Apparently Alex (who plays Jack) is like Misha 2.0 in terms of the boys messing with him lol :P J2M messed with Alex so bad the director, Nina Lopez-Corrado, actually kicked them off set. 

Jensen once told Jared to not speak in a scene so he didn’t mess around. Jared didn’t say a word and Jensen did his lines alone lol. 

Jensen says Jared can never get through telling a whole joke without busting out laughing before the punchline :P

Jared tries to make Jensen break during a scene, makes himself laugh and ruins the take even if Jensen is fine. 

Fan proposes Dark Angel crossover. Jensen thinks it would be neat, would want to recruit X5s to be on their side. 

If you had to live out a season of the show for a year, which season. Jared: Six, maybe?? At least I didn’t care, I was soulless. Also says season 9, maybe 10? Jensen: Season 4. Jared: What’d you do in four? Jensen: Nothing, that’s why I said four. 

Jensen is playing the keyboard for the last question. 

The fan is very flustered, it’s her first convention. Jared is comforting her. Jensen has been playing dramatic piano music all throughout the poor fan trying to get our the last question lol. The entire room is laughing and Jensen has not broken. The girl is overwhelmed and when Jared cuddles her to comfort her she pulled him into a hug aww lol. 

Question is about Adam’s whereabouts. She was a big fan of Adam’s and read a fan theory that maybe he got out of the cage. Jared: Now, to the cool stylings of Jensen Ackles...I think he’s in the cage. Fan joking around: Our half-brother’s in hell, let’s forget about him. Jared: Ehhh, yeah, it’s kinda true. But we do love Jake. 

Jared asks for Jensen’s opinion. Jensen, still playing: oooohh, yeaaaaahhhh.

Jensen snuck in a lower-back grab/pat on Jared as they headed offstage :)

Boys say thanks to the fans before taking off. 

Info via: Fangasm, Ally, Lysa, Tricia,  Sil’s livetweet list

#j2 #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #torcon #spntor #panel sum #long post #shpost

[supernatural-firstwatch]

Season 3 Episode 8: A Very Supernatural Christmas

I didn’t get to watch any episodes yesterday due to my D&D session. Where my character died. But I’m in the process of creating a cat race(Tabaxi) monk warlock character who will be attacking in a cloud of darkness and possibly screaming “BECAUSE I’M BATMAN!” as he beats the shit using Flurry Fists. As soon as I figure out how to even properly play a monk-warlock. I’m relatively new at D&D (though at this point I have played a Human Rogue/Fighter (the newly deceased), a Half-Elf Bard (campaign was cancelled), and a Tiefling Fighter/Sorceress, so it’s not a bad mix of characters for someone who’s been playing for about a year). 

Sadly I don’t see either Sam or Dean getting into D&D, which is a pity. :P

ON WARDS TO THE NEXT EPISODE! I hope it’s a silly one with a name like that. Reminds me of all the Psych X-Mas/Holiday themed episodes.

- Grampa Santa just ate it up the chimney. Also, that title sequence is hilarious! With the hat and the snow. LOL!

- Man, Jared is SO MUCH TALLER than Jensen. I know it’s really only 4-5 inches, but it looks like so much more on screen!

- WHAT? DEAN! DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO MARY POPPINS IS?? God, your cultural references that do not involve ghost movies or rock bands is awful. LOL! “Actually, I have an idea. It’s going to sound crazy.” ‘Oh yeah? What could you possibly tell me that would sound crazy?” ‘Er... Evil Santa.” *pause* “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

- Dean ruined Christmas for Sam and told him there was no Santa. Dean is like my middle brother. He did the same thing when I was 6 and got excited about getting a Barbie house. Told me my parents had dragged it around in the trunk of the car all the way to where we vacationing. Mind you, my family is Jewish. :P

- BWAHAHAHA!!!! Boston Market for X-Mas. Oh man, I remember all the Boston Market when I was a kid. I loved the cream of spinach and the corn bread. 

- Well then. Sam and Dean have VERY different feelings about their childhood Christmases... I hope they elaborate on this because I live for Weechester knowledge!

- YES! FLASHBACK TO 1991!!! When Sam was 8 and Dean was 12! Oh Sam. 20 questions. “Nobody ever tells me anything.” “Then quit asking.” Have I mentioned Dean is my middle brother? Woah. Dean. That... is not the way to talk to your brother about Mary. And then he bails out and leaves Sam alone. That’s a great memory...

- Sam, no! “He’s just kidding. We only came here to watch.” That just makes it worse! You creep! 

- NO!!! LOOOOOL!!!!! DEAN SINGING SILENT NIGHT!!!!! AND THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYTHING EXCEPT THE FIRST LINE!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!! It’s a good thing that wanna be Santa is high and drunk AF. 

- Uh huh... Is the kid going to be a casualty this time around? It’s been adults up until now... Nope... Evil Santa is going to the kid’s parents’ room. And taking the dad. In a red bag. Kid, how about you move your ass and call the goddamn cops instead of just standing there and letting your dad be kidnapped/killed! 

- LOL! Sam giving a Christmas history about how it’s really a pagan holiday and NOT Jesus’s birthday! As a matter of fact Dean, the Easter Bunny is ALSO Pagan! Also, Sam knows that because he paid attention in school. 

- Sam is getting all flak about loving Christmas and being picky about it when he actually really fucking hates the holiday. LOL! I wonder how that went with Jessica and whether they celebrated it at all. 

- Sam, it’s Dean’s “last” Christmas before his soul gets reaped to Hell! Of course he wants to celebrate it and make it special! AWH! SAM! Dean wants to celebrate it because it’s his last Christmas and Sam doesn’t want to for the exact same reasons, because next year he’ll be alone...

- BACK TO 1991!!!! And Sam finds out that monsters are real by snooping around and reading things he shouldn’t. Dean is the best. Also, is that the same actor that played Dean in the Shtriga episode? It looks like it. Awh, poor Sam is now petrified for John, Dean, and him. If only he knew that he’s already been killed at least almost twice by the monsters.

- Ok, so, like, Mrs. Carrigan and her husband are way too Stepford Wives for that to be real. Dean reaching for the peanut brittle, LOL! that mand is ALWAYS eating! Glad to see Sam thought they were way too weird too! 

- If they’re so into Pagan stuff, why is their entire house decorated in Santa Clauses? Like, it’s like X-mas threw up all over their house. Oh well, NEVERMIND! That basement is just WRONG! Well, there are the boots. And the bag. And pieces of humans? 

- OH! DEAN JUST GOT HIS HEAD BASHED AGAINST THE WALL! And Sam is being held up by the old lady! Clearly a disguise. Oh gross WTF! The flashlight over their faces!! And Sam just got his head bashed in too. 

- HAHA!!! “Or what? You’ll eat us?” Sam the sasser. 

- OMG! I am LOVING these two gGds. Fucking hilarious! Dean should say “Quiznak” instead of fudge. “You quiznak come near me again, I’ll quizanking kil you!” #voltronreference!  

- I wonder if the fact that Sam has demon blood in him will make a difference to these two Gods. 

- Also, there’s no actual cut in Dean’s skin as she is cutting his arm. Ooops! AH! AAAAAH!!! WHAT IS HE DOING TO SAM’S FINGER??? ARGH THAT’S SO GROSS OMG HE’S RIPPING OFF HIS FINGERNAILS OMG THAT’S SO NASTY I CAN’T WATCH!!!!!!! AND HE’S RIPPING OUT DEAN’S TOOTH!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK SAVED BY THE FUCKING BELL, DEAN!!! Is it Bobby? Nope, just a random neighbor.

- HAH! The boys slipped their ropes. And now they’re getting their asses kicked by the Gods. Good job, Sam! And Dean! 

- Back to 1991!!!! Dean, you’re such a liar. It wasn’t John. It was you. You brought in that crappy tree and strung up the lights. John was never there. He was never back from the hunt. GOD, DEAN! YOU KILL ME!! YOU ARE SUCH A CINNAMON ROLL!!!! OMG! DEAN! DID YOU JUST STEAL A RANDOM GIFT FROM UNDERNEATH A TREE??? AWH! Sam worked it out. Sammy, it’s the thought that counts! He just tried to give you a Christmas... 

- AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!! IT’S THE NECKLACE!!!!!!! THAT DEAN IS ALWAYS WEARING!!!!!!! THESE BOYS ARE SO CUTE!!!!!!!!

- AWWWWWWWWW!!!!! SAM DECORATED THEIR ROOM FOR CHRISTMAS!!!! 

- LOOOL!!!!! Skin mags and shaving cream from Dean. Fucking brilliant. And a candy bar and oil from Sam. “Food for me and food for my baby.” #heartbreak

- Sam is trying so hard not to cry! And look! It’s snowing again! 

Awh... This episode was both really funny and cute and HEARTBREAKING at the same time. These boys. *sniff*

#supernatural #first time watching #sam winchester #dean winchester #season 3 #teenage dean is a cinnamon roll #sam finds out the truth #the origin of dean's necklace #santa is not real #but pagan gods are #and they have assimilated

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Things Forbidden 6

Chapter Warning: no smut. Just snark and drama 

Words: 2, 373

Chapter 5 link 

_________________

The next morning Luna walked down the stairs with Gabriel behind her like an over protective puppy. Dean looked up as the two walked in. He looked back down at the book in his lap so he wouldn’t make some snarky comment to the archangel that could result in some epic show down. Dean didn’t want to admit it but Cas was right. They needed to work with Gabriel. If they were going to take down Raphael and his minions they would need all the muscle that they could get. It also helped knowing that Luna was back under the same roof as him again.

Dean sighed. He had missed the girl. You couldn’t just care for someone all their life then not care about them anymore. Dean wouldn’t dare admit it but he was silently thanking Gabriel for actually taking care of her. Luna looked healthy. She didn’t look like she had been neglected in anyway. Dean had spent a lot of his recent time worrying about what was happening to his adopted daughter. Was she being taken care of? Did Gabriel just go off with some other woman and leave her alone with a broken heart? Would he have to go and kill the archangel like he wanted to for so long? Dean knew if it came to that Luna would never forgive him. Never in a million years would she forgive him if he hurt Gabriel.

As much as Dean hated to even let the thought enter his mind he couldn’t stop it. Dean knew good and well that Luna loved Gabriel. He could see it in her eyes every time that she had looked at the annoying trickster of an archangel. She looked at him the same way that he looked at Zoe or Cas.

“So no one ever said why you two chose this lovely place for a hideout? Its cozy….if you are Hannibal Lecter.”

Gabriel said with a smirk as he looked at all the dust covered counter tops and mantel pieces. Zoe glared up at Gabriel coldly from her seat by the fire place.

“Well sorry it isn’t the fucking Four Seasons your highness.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Even that place isn’t good enough for your god daughter.”

Zoe’s frown, if possible, became deeper. She looked to Luna had wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s in some feeble attempt at keeping the archangel calm. Luna’s violet eyes looked nervous as she gazed between the two. It was Zoe’s turn to look at her god daughter fully. She had taken little gazes at her the previous night but now it hit Zoe full force how much Luna looked like her mother now. The only differences was Luna’s blond hair wasn’t lavender like Rosalie’s had been. Other then that it was like looking a carbon copy.

Luna tightened her knee length sweater around her body as she pulled Gabriel away. Zoe however, wasn’t ready to let the subject drop.

“So what makes you think you can just show up whenever the hell you want Gabriel? What make you think that we want you here?”

Cas cleared his throat.

“Zoe, no.”

He said in a low warning tone as Luna spun around.

“How dare you?! It was my idea! I wanted to come back here! I knew that you three were outnumbered against Raphael. I would think that you would be grateful that I came back period! I almost didn’t! We could have stayed away and let you all be barbecued alive but I couldn’t do that. You’re my family, whether you want to act like it or not. You know what we’ll leave. Leave you all to it. Wish you the best of luck. Come on Gabriel we should have just bailed last night. This is a waste of time. This is just going to be a daily continuation of bull shit.”

Gabriel didn’t move a moment before following Luna. Dean however blocked the door.

“No. Don’t leave. You just got here and you are right. We do need all the help we can get. I don’t want you to go back out there again. I’ll behave if he does.”

Dean said calmly motioning to Gabriel. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been a good little angel for your information.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“I don’t wanna know dude.”

Dean looked to Luna.

“Kid I need to talk to you alone without your purse dog.”

Luna turned looking at Gabriel.

“Go on sugar. I’ll be fine with grumpy over there.”

Zoe straightened in her seat.

“Must you call her sugar? That totally rubs me the wrong way.”

Gabriel smirked.

“Go on cupcake.”

He took extra care to emphasis the word cupcake before plopping down on the sofa ignoring the look on Zoe’s face. The fact that she looked like someone had force fed her a tone of Lemon Head candies was its own reward.”

Luna meanwhile, followed Dean outside the old house and down the street.

“I’m glad you came back.”

Dean said casually. Luna nodded as she put her hands in her pockets as she looked around the small neighborhood. As usual both she and Dean were looking in opposite directions for anything weird.

“Do you mean that or are you just saying it?”

She asked. Dean sighed.

“Of course I mean that! I never wanted you to leave anyway. Look Luna I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I went overboard on Gabriel’s….whatever you have.”

Luna turned.

“A relationship. We have a relationship! Dean I am asking you one time to cut Gabriel some slack. There is a lot that you don’t know….a lot.”

Dean frowned taking in Luna’s sad expression.

“Well why don’t you tell me what he’s went through? Maybe you can change my mind on him.”

Meanwhile,

Zoe stood walking out of the living room and into the kitchen where Cas stood alone looking out the window.

“You left me in there with him.”

Cas turned.

“Zoe I think you need to calm down.”

Zoe looked totally offended at that. Her bright green eyes went if possible even greener.

“Calm down?! You want me to calm down? Castiel that joker who ruined everything is back in our lives yet again. He has destroyed so much for us and you just let him back in like some stray cat.”

Cas sighed, looking tired.

“Zoe, you have been an emotional wreck since Luna left now she is back. Our child is back. Dean is out there trying right now. Why don’t you?”

Zoe’s lips immediately went together and she looked down. Cas was right….as usual. She reached up twisting one of her dread locks around her finger.

“Damn it Cas you win! I have missed her! I missed her like I miss Rose! I I just see Gabriel and want to beat him up for what he did to Rose.”

Neither noticed Gabriel walk into the room looking less than amused.

“There is a lot that you don’t know Zoe. I don’t really give a damn if you don’t believe me on that either. I have had to do a lot that I am not proud of and hurting Rose was one of the main ones.”

Zoe turned.

“Well it should be! You devastated her!”

Gabriel looked to the side.

“She understood though.”

Zoe’s eyes widened.

“She understood?! Am I hearing you correctly?! She understood all the pain you caused her? You ran off and teamed up with your brother but she understood? Do you realize what you are saying or do you just spout off bullshit on purpose?”

Gabriel looked up.

“There is a lot that you don’t know Zoe and quiet honestly I am tired of you attitude. Lucifer and I were playing double agent with Raphael. We were trying to get as much information out of him as we could. I couldn’t do that and be with Rosalie too. Do you realize the danger that would have put her in? Rosalie understood all of it after I told her years after I left. I made her promise to tell you all nothing to keep you safe as well. That’s right Zoe I care for your haughty ass too. I didn’t want Raphael to know that I had something to do with you in case he tried to harm anyone associated with me. I begged Rose to let me keep her and Luna safe. It’s my fault that Rose is dead. That night that Rose and Luna’s father died…I was the one that fucking found them. How do you think that made me feel?! It was me that pulled baby Luna out of that disaster of a house. It’s a miracle that girl even survived. If I had been there Rose would still be alive. Now you know the truth. As far as this present time when it comes to Luna I don’t have to justify my feelings for her to you. But I will be keeping Luna safe. I am one of the most powerful beings in existence and I can do that. However  she needs to be with her family but I’ll be damned if you will make her feel alienated and unwanted. I will go full archangel if you don’t fix this. This is your warning.”

The normal cheerful fun loving Gabriel was put in the closet and this Gabriel was the archangel the he was meant to be. He stood looking at Zoe coldly for a moment before turning and walking away. Whether or not his words would make any difference he didn’t know but he felt better getting some of his darkest secrets off of his chest. Now at  least Zoe and Cas knew he wasn’t the asshole that they thought he was.

As Gabriel walked into the living room of Sirius Black’s living room Luna and Dean walked back in. Gabriel smirked at all of the Harry Potter jokes he was mentally coming up with. He had to think of something to pull himself out of his head. At the moment it wasn’t a lovely place to be.

“Peach you’re back and in one piece. Thanks Winchester. I don’t have to play doctor tonight.”

Dean took a sharp intake of air. After he and Luna had a huge heart to heart on everything that Gabriel had really been doing he was trying to cut the archangel some slack.

“Yeah congratulations. You earned yourself a break.”

Dean said calmly. He was thankful that Cas and Zoe walked in.  However the bothered expressions on their faces did raise some red flags for the eldest Winchester.

Gabriel slightly smirked trying to ignore the questioning expression on Luna’s face. She knew something was up. Any moron with a brain stem could see that.

Plopped down on the couch Gabriel looked to the people in his company.

“So when are we going after my brother? As much as I love sitting here with you all waiting for Harry and Ron to show up I would rather get this mess over with.”

Sam, who had just walked in from hours of research, lightly chuckled.

“Well funny story. We have been trying to find any sign of him and there is nothing. It’s like he’s avoiding us.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Of course he is. He isn’t going to let you just walk up to him. You need to draw him out.”

Cas sighed.

“We are trying. He just isn’t interested in any of our bait.”

Luna looked up from the place on the arm of the couch.

“I’ll do it. I’ll lure him out.”

Every person in the room had the same reaction of terror.

“No way!”

Both Gabriel and Zoe said at same time. Cas was shaking his head with his mouth hanging open. Dean was staring at her with wide eyes. Luna sighed.

“You’re not going to get Raphael out unless you use some kind of bait he is interested in. We all know he has been after me for a very very long time. I can do this. Gabriel can be close enough to step in when need be and then the rest of you can work on his minions.”

Zoe and Gabriel were shaking their heads.

“No way in hell.”

“Not happening!”

Zoe and Gabriel said at the same time again.  Gabriel looked at Zoe with a smirk.

“When did I become your sidekick ?”

Luna meanwhile was a little annoyed with their lack of realization that this was a good option and could be done.

“She has a good plan”

Sam finally said. Dean turned looking at his brother.

“Are you high?!”

Sam sighed.

“We are running out of options. We can ask Lucifer to join. Maybe a long stretch as well as stupid but two archangels are better than one.”

While everyone but Luna was busy giving Sam the biggest death glare Lucifer slipped in unseen.

“My former vessel has a good of point.”

Lucifer smirked when everyone minus Gabriel and Luna looked shocked to see him. Zoe frowned.

“What are you doing here?”

Lucifer sighed.

“Hello…Satan here! I can go anywhere I want. I know where you all are. Not a hard bunch to find. So I know normally we are all trying to kill each other but here we are conspiring on killing Raphael. Have to say I’m fully interested. I would love to kick my brother’s butt. Throw Michael in the picture I’ll be a happy little fellow.”

“There is nothing little about you.”

Gabriel said coldly. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Gabe what has your wings in a twist?”

Gabriel glared harder at his brother.

“Maybe the prospect of using my lover as bait.”

Lucifer shrugged.

“Miss Pretty does have a good point.”

Gabriel looked if possible angrier as he stood.

“Well look at that everyone. We are back in fantasy land because this ISN’T going to happen!”

Gabriel turned walking from the room without another word. ________________

@greenappleeyes

@tas898

@jannalionheart

@sherala007

#supernatural fanfiction #Gabriel x OFC #Cas x Dean x ofc #Cas #Sam Winchester #Gabriel the Trickster #GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL #lucifer

[simpleboox-blog]

Never Family (Chapter 2)

Summary: Sam wants Monica to join him and Dean while hunting. He believes it will help them after everything they’ve gone through. Dean on the other hand... well. Just read it and see!

Warnings: Language, mentions of past deaths and injuries

Characters: Sam, Dean, Monica, Creepy waiter

Word Count: 2,000

A/N: This part is a bit longer and better. I know no one is actually reading this story but fuck it I like writing it. It gives me some sense of accomplishment. I’m really sad. I’m sorry. Enjoy!

Masterlist

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Monica knocked on the motel room door. She clutched the note, hoping that she got the address and room number right. It took her awhile to get out of the hospital, and over to the motel. Luckily, it wasn’t very far, walking with the massive gash on her leg wasn’t ideal. But she made it in the end. “Who is it?” Monica heard from the other side of the door, shortly followed by the sound of a gun loading. “It’s Monica. The girl from the hospital?” She shouted back. “I was told to meet Sam and Dean here to t-.” But she was quickly cut off by the door flinging open.

One of the brothers stood at the door. She assumed it was Sam, as she noticed before the height difference between him and Dean. Monica was holding the note in one hand, and the other hand was holding on to her side. Bandages and stitches helped but she probably needed painkillers. It didn’t bother her too much, she was used to these situations. Being a hunter and all. “Oh. It’s you. Come on in.” Sam said standing aside to let her in. Monica thanked him and walked into the motel room.

Dean stood up as Sam let her in, the hunter from the hospital. She must have got their note. The first thing he noticed was how she was limping, and holding her side as if she was in pain. Dean remembered the amount of blood there was, how it covered her clothes. And Sam’s. He remembered Sam shouting at him to hurry up because she had passed out. He remembered Sam carrying her in and the doctors rushing towards her and scolding them both for not getting to the hospital sooner. He remembered the worry he felt, the worry towards someone he didn’t even know.

“Uh hi I’m Dean. I see you got our note.” He said. She just nodded. “You should sit down. I’ll get you a painkiller.” Sam said, walking past Dean and looking through their stuff. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but why are you being so nice to me?” Monica said. Dean looked at her, still standing up and holding onto her side. “We’re being nice to you because you’re a fellow hunter. And you killed the bitches we were after.” He pointed out. She shrugged. “Sam said you should sit down, so you should.” He added. “I’m fine.” Monica said through gritted teeth.

“No you’re not. But here take these.” Sam said going over to her. It frustrated Dean how stubborn she was. Couldn’t the girl just accept the fact that she got hurt and had to sit down? She thanked Sam and took the meds he gave her. “So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” She said once she was done. “We’re not saying until you sit down.” Dean said firmly. “Oh come on..” Monica replied, crossing her arms. “Not a word.”

Monica sighed and sat down on the end of Dean’s bed. She crossed her arms again and tried to look mad, but was failing miserably. “You can cut the act sweetheart. You ain’t fooling anybody.” Dean chuckled. She dropped the face and Sam cleared his throat. “Anyways we wanted to thank you for helping us out. It was impressive. Do you always work alone?” He said. Monica scoffed. “Impressive? I ended up in the hospital! Which you guys brought me to by the way, so I really should be thanking you. I would have probably died of blood loss if you came any later.” She said bitterly.

Dean was taken aback. “You- you think that wasn’t impressive because you got hurt? You took down an army of Amazon warriors! On your own! Me and Sam could barely take down one let alone ... an army of those bitches.” He snapped. Monica stood up, anger crossing her face. “Hey look guys maybe if we all just-.” Sam started. “Is that why you asked me to come here? To argue with me? Because somehow I doubt that.” Monica shouted. “No that’s not why but if you stop being a stubborn little-.” “Guys!” Sam cut Dean off. Both Monica and Dean looked at him. “Stop just stop okay?”

“We want you to join our team.” Sam said with a sigh. “No. You want her to join our team.” Dean corrected bitterly. Monica shot him a look before turning back to Sam. “Why exactly?” She asked. “Oh my god- did you not fucking hear what I just said!?” Dean hissed. “Okay. We’re not getting started into this again. But Dean is kinda right. We’ve lost- we’ve lost a few people recently and you’re a good hunter. Hell, you’re one of the best hunters we’ve come across in a long time. So please, we’re asking you to return the favour.” Sam said sadly. Monica felt her heart soften for Sam. The way he spoke about the people they’ve lost… she could relate. That’s probably why Dean was bitter as well.

“I’m sorry- for the people you’ve lost. I’m sure it’s hard and-,” Monica started. “Okay. Okay. Cut the bullshit. Will you do it or not?” Dean said rudely. She looked over at him and saw right through that big emotional wall he built up. He was sad, and grieving. Whoever they lost must have been close to them. It was clear the two had separate ways of dealing with it. “I’ll do it.” She muttered. She had no place to stay, nobody to go to, no case, no belongings. May as well. “Wow. That’s - that’s great. We actually found a case back in Lawrence, Kansas. We’ll let you get your stuff together and we’ll meet you down there.” Sam said with a grin. “Sure. Here’s my number you’ll probably need it.” Monica told him, taking out a piece of paper and scribbling down some digits. Sam nodded.

“What the hell is your problem Dean?” Sam said once they were in the car. “What? Nothing.” Dean retorted. “Oh yeah sure. So you just acting like an asshole back there is completely normal.” Dean sighed. “I just- I just don’t think she should join our team alright? She’s rude and she’s stubborn as hell and it would be weird having a girl around.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Your kidding right? First of all, she’s not rude. You are. Second of all, you’re seriously gonna ditch a perfectly good hunter because ‘it would be weird having a girl around’?” Sam argued. Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Wait. I know what’s up.” Sam said. “This is about Cas isn’t it? You think she’ll replace him.” Dean glared at the road. “Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He hissed. “Dean. Listen to me. It will be good to have her around. And I miss Cas as well I really, really do. But you’re gonna have to let someone new in sometime.” Sam said softly. “You’re only saying all this because she’s a mildly attractive girl who impressed you with her hunting skills and you haven’t had sex in like, forever.” Dean grinned. “You’re a jerk you know that?” Sam chuckled. “You’re a bitch you know that?” Dean replied without missing a beat.

Monica sat in the motel room Sam had got for her. He gave her a day and a fake credit card to get her shit together. She sighed and went out shopping. Monica spent at least three or four hours just shopping. Clothes, weapons, toiletries, literally all of the essentials. She also bought a big gym style bag to put everything in. It was about five o'clock in the evening when she got back to the motel room. She was going to stay there tonight, then steal a car and drive down to Lawrence, Kansas to meet Sam and Dean.

With a sigh she dumped her stuff on the bed, taking out the shower essentials. The light in the bathroom flickered for a while before turning on fully. It was kind of gross in there but it would do. Throwing the stuff in the shower and turning it on, she peeled her clothes off, wincing slightly because of the cuts. Standing in front of the mirror, Monica realised just how much of a mess she was. Her hair was wiry and frizzy, instead of wavy and bouncy. The cuts were bruising around the edges, and would definitely leave ugly scars. She pinched her thighs and sucked in her stomach. Being skinny wouldn’t hurt either.

Monica was in the shower for at least an hour, using the fresh towels that were there, she dried herself off. While shopping, she saw a nice little diner about a two or three minute walk from the motel. Planning to go there, she put on a small bit of makeup and changed into some of her new, clean clothes. Now she didn’t look like that much of a mess.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ in a town like this huh?” The waiter said coming over to her table. He was tall, and had a few wisps of facial hair. He seemed like the kind of guy that would eat your cat. “Just visiting some family members of mine.” Monica said with a sweet smile. He snorted. It was one of the most horrific sounds Monica had ever heard. And she heard monsters of all sorts. “That’s what they all say you know. Anyways. What do ya want?” He asked, pulling out a small notebook. “Just a sandwich and a salad please. With a glass of water.”

“That was close you know. God you were scared to bits.” Dean laughed when him and Sam were back at their motel room. “Shut up Dean. You know how much I hate clowns.” He replied. Dean chuckled again. “I wonder how your girlfriend’s getting on.” Dean muttered, lying down on the bed. “She’s not my- you know what whatever. You’re the one that was telling her how amazing she was at hunting. And telling her to sit down when she was hurt.” Sam smiled. Dean shrugged. “It’s the truth. She is a great hunter. And she was pretty injured.” “Uh-huh sure.” Sam teased. “I’m going to sleep now. Shut up asshole.” Dean mumbled into the pillow.

“Nice.” Monica whispered, sliding into the car she found. It was black and had a stunning leather interior. The dashboard was all new and done up. It seemed like a new enough car. She rang Sam before jump starting it, keeping a close eye out for the real owner. “Hello?” He asked. “Hey Sam it’s Monica.” She said. “Oh! Hi Monica, how are you?” She swore she heard Dean scoff in the background and Sam tell him to shut up. “Good. Just got a car. Well, stole it but you know what I mean. I haven’t jump started it yet but I’ll be in Lawrence soon enough.” She said. “Nice. Dean wants to know what car you stole.” He said with a laugh. She heard Dean curse in the background.

She smiled stupidly to herself. “A 09’ Ford Escape. Black. Sweet leather interior as well.” She heard Sam repeat it to Dean and heard a whistle from the other line. She laughed. “I’ll see you asshats in a bit. Bye now!” Monica said. Hanging up. She got the car up and running after a couple of tries and pulled out of the motel carpark where she found it. Soon she was on the road, the radio blasting Bon Jovi and her on the way to Lawrence, Kansas.

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfics #spn fanfiction #spn fanfictions #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfictions #supernatural fanfics #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean #sam winchester #sam #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #fanfic #fanfics #fanfictions #fanfiction #superwholock #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #season 7 #pudge

[justanotherwaywarddaughter]

Trust Me, Would Ya? I Know What I’m Doing Here.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Inspired by this imagine. The reader is Bobby’s niece, who returns to Bobby’s looking for answers about a particular hunt. The boys are there, and they offer to help. The reader ends up hunting with them full time, and develops feelings for Sam. While on a case in Montana, they’re faced with the question of who has to share a bed. Panic ensues.

Word Count: 4,762 (I tried to keep it short but it didn’t work out)

Warnings: Very fluffy fluff, sarcasm, occasional swearing

A/N: First time attempting to write sappy sweet fluff. Special thanks to @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname for encouragement and feedback. Italics are reader’s thoughts. Tags at the end. Thanks so much for reading, and as always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :). 

The crunch of your boots in the gravel as you hobbled back to your car was akin to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Nursing the injuries to both your body and your pride, you stumbled into your car and slammed the door, cursing every god you could recall the name of for your rotten luck. This about damn figures. The one time I think I’ve got it in the bag. The one time I went in thinking I knew absolutely everything. The one hunt I’ve been on that I’d call routine. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is what you get for being cocky. 

With a frustrated smack to the steering wheel, you shoved your keys into the ignition, starting your car. You knew where you had to head, and it quite frankly didn’t thrill you.

The hum of your tires and the purr of your engine as you travelled down the road created a quiet melody. Absently tapping out a rhythm, you felt the tension that had knotted itself at the base of your skull begin to ease. Soon, the scenery became familiar. The closer you got to your uncle Bobby’s, the more you felt a sense of home, a warmth, some roots. 

Sioux Falls hadn’t always been home, but it was the last one you’d known before setting out on your own with the goal of making the world a safer place, one monstrosity at a time. That seemed like so long ago. Every few months, you’d gone back to visit Bobby occasionally and to check on things there. Whether he liked to admit it or not, the old geezer got lonely sometimes. Since his passing, you’d really had no reason to go back. Going back just reminded you of how alone you were, how little help you had, and what a dark place the world was beginning to look like to you. Yeah, yeah. Enough with the doom and gloom. Let’s just get this over with. I cannot screw up like this again. I know at least some of Bobby’s collection of crap has to be there. Guess we’ll just cross our fingers and hope it’s the specific crap I need.

Pulling into the old junkyard put a hesitant smile on your face. Regardless of the circumstances, the place brought back memories. Like the first time your dad had ever brought you with him when he came to visit and you got lost playing fort in the stacks of old clunkers. Or the first time you tagged along on your dad and Bobby’s “annual brotherly bonding” trip, as your mom put it. I’m pretty sure every deer within a ten-mile radius of our tree stand heard me yell, “RUN, BAMBI, RUN!” You grinned as you remembered their reactions; they’d both laughed until they cried. Or the time you and your dad came for a visit right after your mom died, when Bobby took you fishing. Or the time you spent a summer learning the ins and outs of auto repair, covered in grease and loving every minute it. Or the time you came to Bobby looking for answers after your dad disappeared. That was your last “visit”. After Bobby took a look at the situation surrounding your dad’s disappearance, he took off for a week, leaving you alone while he “took care of a few things”. He came back, gave you the talk about the things that go bump in the night, and the rest was history.

You were home, and as much as you’d like to have continued your leisurely stroll down memory lane, you had a job to do. You reluctantly opened your car door and climbed out, stretching the soreness from your muscles. Making your way through the weeds up to the front porch was not an easy task. I really should do something about this mess. 

The old front door protested its opening with a strangled creak, but eventually gave way. “Damn. Even Bobby would’ve called this place a mess,” you grumbled to no one in particular as you ambled across the old hardwood floor toward the piles of lore your uncle, the research raja as you’d once jokingly called him, had left behind. Grabbing a few files at random, you plunked down in the worn chair that sat behind his scarred desk and began to scour the writings for relevant information. You had just settled in with a particularly thick book titled The Haunting Phenomenon when you heard the quiet scuffle of footsteps near the kitchen. 

Biting back a sigh, you slowly stood, placing the book on the desk and drawing your side arm. With measured steps, you crossed the floor, toeing the door open. Creeping your way along the wall, you heard two very distinct, very familiar voices. Holstering your weapon and biting back yet another sigh, you moved into plain sight, careful not to startle anyone. The last thing I need is a startled Dean. He’s already trigger happy. At the sound of your no longer careful steps, both boys spun around, drawing down on you.

“Boys, boys, boys. Calm yourselves. It’s just little old me,” you said with feigned confidence, noticing their unrecognizing stares. Damn, they have no idea who I am. Not gonna lie, that stings a little.

“And who, might I ask, are ‘little old’ you?” Dean probed, moving closer leveling his gun with your center mass.

“Put up your gun, dumbass. It’s me, Y/N. Long time no see,” you replied with a crooked smile. Turning from one brother to the other, you smirked, “Don’t remember me, boys? Ouch. That stings.” You ventured a glance at Sam. Big mistake. Oh, shit. How do I close my mouth? Do.Not.Drool. Your little grin was quickly replaced by a grimace as Dean took advantage of the time you mentally fumbling with body mechanics and staring at Sam. To say you weren’t expecting the splash of holy water was an understatement.

“I am not a demon, jackass! If I was a demon, do you think I could’ve walked over here? Right under the devil’s trap that’s painted on the ceiling?” you spat.

“Wait, you’re really Y/N? Y/N, Bobby’s niece, Y/N? Y/N that kicked my ass at poker when we were kids, Y/N? It’s been a while. Last time we were here together you were just a skinny kid, and now, I mean…” he trailed off, giving you the same grin-and-wink move you’d seen him pull on countless girls that week out of the summer he and Sam had come to stay with you and Bobby.

“Well, Casanova, I think everyone’s all knobby knees and bony elbows at nine. I’ve grown up, and so have you. Samsquatch here grew up and then grew up a little more. Seriously, what did you feed him?” you retorted, wiping your face with the tail of your shirt and moving back toward the tomes you’d abandoned.

“What are you doing here at Bobby’s?” Sam questioned, moving from away from the wall he’d leaned against when he realized you weren’t a demon.

“To tell you the truth, I screwed up. I thought this case I was on was a run-of-the-mill salt and burn. Some douche’s vengeful spirit attached to his wedding ring. So, I torch the ring. I think I’m done. I’m headed out of town, but I decide to stop for a bite on my way home, and I hear some locals gabbing about how another man had died from cardiac arrest the night before. I’m keeping an ear open, but not paying too much attention. Then I hear them saying the sheriff had found another body, same MO as my ghost. I go back to investigate. Long story short, there’s one guy that got scared to death, one that was killed by my ghost pal, and another that’s well on his way to being scared to death. I told the idiot to stay away. Told him I didn’t need his help. The big, macho meathead of a deputy didn’t listen to little helpless, defenseless me, and now it’s like he’s scared of his own shadow. His pulse is way too high, and his blood pressure is through the roof. I figured his only chance was if I could come here and dig something up,” you finished with a sigh, cracking your book back open.

“You know what that sounds like? A buruburu. Good times. Right, Dean?” Sam snickered.

“That was not funny. I almost died,” Dean grumbled.

“It was hilarious. You screamed at a cat. You made me move our room to the first floor of the hotel. You drove the speed limit. How did the guy die?” Sam asked, moving to look over your shoulder at what you’d been reading.

Oh, God. Don’t stutter. Ignore the close proximity. Go to your happy place. “Best I could tell, the poor bastard was scared stiff. He was being trailed by a pretty rough crowd. Something about cheating with one of their wives. Ran straight into a river and drowned. I figured he was attached to the wedding band because of his victim choices; generally, they were guys that did what he did. That, and he paid his wife little visits. Flowers, messages, just little stuff. I think he was saying he was sorry,” you explained.

“Either way, it sounds like a buruburu. The guy that died of a heart attack? He probably had what’s called ghost sickness. He was probably infected by the other victim. It’s a pretty easy fix, actually. We scare the ghost to death,” Sam said, moving toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, scare it to death? The ghost? How is that even a thing?” you asked yourself more than anyone else, beyond confused.

“I’m driving,” Dean asserted, pulling his keys from his pocket.

“No protest here. I could use a break,” you sighed.

The three of you made your way to the car, the brothers leading the way. At the sight of the classic Chevy, you let out a low whistle. “Nice car, boys. Just as pretty as I remember. Does it still have that little toy soldier stuck in the door?” you asked. Pulling the door open, you chuckled, “Guess I just answered my own question. We’re headed to Mitchell, boys. Home of the one and only corn palace.”

“Gee, I’m so excited. Maybe we can visit after we’re done taking care of the ghost that keeps killing people. We can go pick up some post cards,” Dean grunted.

“Maybe we can. I think we might just be able to get a picture for your Christmas card. What do you think, Sam? You, Dean, and twenty different colors of corn,” you said, leaning up to stick your head between the seats, earning you a chortle from Sam and a scowl from Dean. 

Oh, Lord, I must be doing something right. He flashed the dimples. Control the drool, Y/N. Play it cool. I’m not sure when this whole attracted to Sam thing happened, but I’m not sure I’m okay with it. We gotta keep this under wraps.

Four hours, a petrified ghost, and some pictures of a sullen Dean in front of the corn palace later, you and the boys were headed back to Sioux Falls. As you pulled into Bobby’s driveway, you moved to get out of the car.

“It’s been fun, boys. Let’s do it again sometime,” you said, trying to appear nonchalant. You were almost to your car when you heard a hushed argument. Turning, you saw Dean’s dad face and Sam’s puppy dog eyes. 

Oh, Dean-o, you’re done for. No one can resist the puppy dog eyes. Shaking your head, you fished your keys out of your pocket. Almost as soon as you were in the car, Dean pulled up next to you, Sam motioning for you to roll your window down.

“Hey, Y/N, where ya headed?” Sam asked, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Here. There. Anywhere, really. I guess wherever I find another case,” you replied with a shrug.

“Listen, we’ve got this place in Kansas. It has a huge library, beds with sheets without mysterious stains, showers with water pressure, a real kitchen, stop me when you hear something that interests you…” he trailed off, looking at you with those hazel eyes that seemed to just go on forever. You could so easily get lost in them, counting the colors, watching them change as he talked, seeing shifts as he moved and the light caught the different facets of pigment.

“Y/N? What do you think?” he asked again, snapping you out of your reverie.

Oh, God. Judging by Dean’s smug expression, he totally just caught that. Play it cool. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way Dean-o,” you stammered, rolling your window up so the tint would hide your blush.

From that point on, you hunted with the boys. You’d learned so much in the past six months you’d been living at the bunker, both from the boys and from their extensive collection of artifacts, lore, journals, and everything in between. You spent days just getting to know the place. Each new room was a treasure trove of information and history and culture.

You and Dean had settled into a comfortable rhythm of making fun of one another, playing pranks, and just generally grumbling in the other’s direction. It was fun. You’d always wondered what having an older brother would feel like. You didn’t have to wonder anymore.

As much crap as you gave each other, you and Dean had become close, and it was an unspoken agreement that you two would be there through the nightmares, the tough hunts, the cranky days, the dates gone wrong (mostly Dean’s), and all the other trouble you two could stir up. He was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime, your biggest advocate, and your worst aggravation all rolled up in one.

Sam was something else. You two had gotten into a groove of giving Dean a hell half of the time and dancing around each other the other half. Sometimes, you thought you were having a moment. He’d look up at you across a table in the library and smile for no reason, only to clear his throat and break eye contact. Or he’d reach up and tuck that strand of hair that had been driving you insane behind your ear, only to withdraw his hand like he’d been burned.

Other times, he’d ditch you in a bar for a girl that looked far more like Dean’s type. Or he’d pat you on the top of the head like you were that annoying little sister everyone wants to placate. I’m getting mixed signals here, buddy. 

Either way, you couldn’t justify jeopardizing the comfortable pattern you’d so easily fallen into with the boys. It finally felt like you had a home again. No stupid boy is worth risking that, even if he’s the prettiest, nicest, smartest… Oh shut up, Y/N. You’re not helping here.

Much to your dismay, you came to realize your initial attraction was well founded. That is to say, it wouldn’t go away. No matter how hard you tried. No matter how many times you got on the guy’s nerves on purpose to try to make him mad. No matter how many times you ignored him. No matter how many times he was the butt of a joke you and Dean had cooked up. He always seemed to be Mr. Brightside. He had a smile and a kind word. He never gave you a legitimate reason to be mad at him, except that he was unfairly adorable. Yes, I realize that sounds like a line from a chick flick. Yes, I know how pathetic that is. Can we move on? The guy was a research genius, and that made you like him all the more. Between his sweets, his smarts, and his dimples, you were hooked. Crap. Here he comes now. ACT NATURAL.

“Hey, Y/N. Where’s Dean? I think I found us a case. There’s been a string of mutilations over in Montana. All the bodies missing a heart,” he explained, lifting your feet you’d had stretched out over the other seat of the couch and sitting down, placing them in his lap.

This one will be the death of me. I can feel it. At least my toenails are painted. You furrowed your brow, “What’s the lunar cycle look like? Sounds like a werewolf.”

“Werewolves are freaking awesome. Human by day, badass killing machine by night. Best part is, they’re a straightforward kill. One silver bullet to the heart. Boom. It’s done,” Dean pointed out, walking in and shooting a look at you after seeing your feet in Sam’s lap. “Get up. Let’s get a move on. We got a wolf-man to gank,” he said with glee.

“He looks like a kid on Christmas morning,” you snorted, moving to go pack. “Meet you in the car in thirty?” At Sam’s nod, you headed to your room. Dean beat you there, the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen planted square on his face.

Crap. I knew he’d catch on to that. I freaking knew he’d have something to say about it. You’ve played it cool this far. How hard can it be to continue doing what you’re already doing? Chill, Y/N. Maybe he won’t push it

“So, Y/N,” he started, moving to circle you, hands behind his back.

“Yes, Dean,” you sighed, throwing in an eyeroll for good measure.

“When were you planning on telling me you’re all sweet on Sammy?” he patronized, adopting a sugary sweet tone.

“What? Me? Have a thing for Sam? No. You’re totally off base. I mean, Sammy, really?” you stuttered. Oh, God. I’m babbling.

“We both know I’m right here. Call it brother’s intuition,” he ventured, continuing to circle you.

“I thought the expression was ‘mother’s intuition’,” you said dryly.

“Either way, I know when I’m right. Now, what are you gonna do about it?” he countered, planting himself in front of you.

“Uh, let’s see…Hmm, let’s think about that one. Okay. I thought about it. Nothing. I’m going to do nothing,” you decided. “It’s worked for me so far.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said with a devious smirk.

“Dammit, Dean! You say one word and I’ll end you. Worse than that. Hell will seem like an all-expenses paid vacation after I get done with you!” you shouted at his retreating form as he moved down hall.

Hours later, you were rumbling down the road curled up in the backseat of the Impala, breathing in the familiar smells of the leather seats, stale coffee, and greasy fast food in the fuzzy gray area between sleep and wakefulness when you felt a large, warm hand gently shaking you awake.

“Five more minutes,” you whined.

“Y/N, we’re here. Get up,” Sam whispered.

At that, you shot straight up, taming your hair with your hands and almost knocking noggins with Sam, who was much closer than your foggy consciousness had registered. You casually leaned back and added to the distance between you.

“Sorry, Samsquatch. I’m up. I’m coming. Let’s go. We’re burning daylight here,” you feigned eagerness, moving quickly toward the motel office where Dean was already checking in. Just as you were walking in, Dean spun around, ushering you right back outside.

“Let’s help Sammy with the bags. They only had the one room. Two beds. No couch. Guess that means someone will have to share,” he jeered.

“Dean, I swear to all that is good and holy in this world, if you try something…” you trailed off, trying your best to sound stern.

“I won’t make it obvious. We’ll do it fair and square. We’ll play rock paper scissors,” he chuckled.

“So, loser shares? Dean, I’ve never seen you win a game of rock paper scissors. You suck at plans,” you grumbled.

“Sammy always picks rock, and besides, he knows I always pick scissors,” Dean quipped, clearly impressed with his own plan.

“And how do you know he won’t change it up today?” you bit back, beginning to get annoyed with your scheming matchmaker.

“Trust me, would ya? I know what I’m doing,” he said, closing the distance between himself and the car, grabbing his duffle as he went.

Kicking at the gravels that littered the top of the asphalt, you hauled your duffle toward the room, dreading the scene that was to come.

As you walked in, you heard the last words of a harried and whispered conversation: “Just trust me, would ya?”

This cannot be good.

“So, what have we decided on the bed situation? I could just share with Dean. He’s got the most room and he’s a heavy sleeper anyway,” you stammered.

“No, no, no. We’re playing for this. I’m a starfish sleeper, Y/N. I need my space,” Dean shot back, giving you an annoyed look.

It played out just like Dean said it would. Sam always picked rock, and Dean knew it. He threw paper with a triumphant grin.

“Yes! I win, Sammy. You can drop your stuff over there, Y/N,” he asserted, clearly proud of himself. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Just one good swing. No, Y/N. You know you can’t do that. Hitting regular people is frowned upon.

An involuntary groan slipped from your lips before you could bite it back. Dean gave you his best bitch face. You just shrugged and plopped down on the bed. You knew there would be no explaining your sleep babble, your cuddling, or your nervousness if you all actually did have to share a bed. I’ll just work on a plan to get out of it.

From that point on, it was work, work, work. You all tracked down the werewolf to an apartment in the area’s downtown district. He was a loner, thankfully, so you all headed down to investigate. While you were waiting on Dean’s signal to come in, which was usually a loud yell if we’re being honest, you casually mentioned to Sam that you were a rough sleeper. He just nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“You know, Sammy, you’re a lot taller than Dean. You sure you don’t need the extra room? Mr. Starfish can just deal,” you offered.

“Nah, I’m good. Dean gets cranky when he doesn’t get his beauty sleep,” Sam replied, earning him a giggle from you.

Guess I’ll try again later.

Later came while you all were in pursuit of the werewolf, who’d decided a game of tag would liven up the party.

“You know, Sammy, I’ve got awfully cold feet,” you mentioned, struggling to catch your breath as you attempted to keep pace with the giant.

“I think I’ll be able to deal,” he murmured, slowing to a jog as you closed in on the werefreak.

“I snore too,” you grumbled, only earning you a grunt of acknowledgment.

Damn, foiled again. Maybe if I pick a fight, he’ll make Dean switch. Honest to God, I’m out of ideas.

Your game of tag was pretty short-lived. You quickly caught up to and took care of the bastard. After cleaning up the mess in the poor guy’s apartment and disposing of the body, there wasn’t anything keeping you all from heading back to the motel for some well-earned rest before you headed back in the morning.

Operation Pick-A-Fight-With-Sam is a go.

You waited until Dean headed to grab a shower to launch your attack. Sam was already all keyed up from the hunt. All it took was a few well-placed hateful remarks about him and his decisions– Cough, cough. Demon blood.– and a couple Dean-isms to get him riled up.

“What the hell is your problem today?” Sam spat, clearly beyond annoyed.

“My problem, Sam, is you,” you hissed, spinning on your heel and heading… anywhere but here. That’s where I’m headed. That ought to do it. And it technically wasn’t a lie… Noticing Sam following you, you quickened your pace. Wait, wait, wait. This was not a part of the plan. Mayday! Mayday!

Sam, damn his long legs, caught up with you all too quickly, leaving you at a loss for a plan. He grabbed you by the tops of your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. He bent down, putting you eye to eye, and the genuine look of concern he gave you made your resolve crumble.

“Y/N, what’s gotten in to you?” Sam whispered, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

Sighing, you leaned into his touch. “Don’t worry about it, Sammy. Just a little cranky is all. I’ll get over it. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” you plastered a smile on your face as you finished, moving to distance yourself from him.

“Bullshit,” he insisted, keeping a firm grip on you. “I know you, and I know something’s been up with you lately. Talk to me, Y/N. Please. Just tell me,” he pleaded.

Growing more and more agitated, you finally snapped. “You want to know what’s wrong with me? Grab a mirror and take a peek. I wasn’t lying when I told you that you were my problem. Every damn day I look at you and I see all these good things. I see good you shouldn’t have after everything you’ve been through, but you do. I see your intelligence. I see your kindness. I see your compassion. I see your sass. And I love all of it. You made me like you, you made me fall for you, and now I have to see you every day, knowing full well that it’s not the same for you. So, yeah, forgive me if I’m a little pissy,” you said, jerking yourself from his grasp and heading toward the room, hoping Dean was out of the shower to serve as a buffer. Bastard could make himself useful just this once. This is his fault anyway.

Halfway back, you felt a strong arm reach out and grab you, dragging you back against a solid chest. Turning, you were face to face with Sam.

“Listen, this doesn’t have to change anything. I’m fine, I promise. Don’t feel like you have to say anything,” you muttered, looking at the ground.

Tipping your head up, he forced you to meet his gaze. Aw, come on. That’s not fair. I can’t think straight when he looks at me like that.

“I won’t say anything,” he breathed, moving to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, none of the gentleness you associated with Sam present. You knotted your fingers in his hair, deepening the contact and prolonging the moment. You only pulled away when you both needed air. You looked to Sam with wide eyes, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’ve waited a long time to do that,” he confessed.

“Well, damn, why’d you wait? You could’ve saved us a lot of trouble,” you grumbled.

He just laughed and slung an arm around your shoulders, moving you toward your motel room once more.

“If it hadn’t been for Dean being a pain in my ass and your little speech, I probably never would’ve done anything,” he admitted, looking sheepish as he closed the door behind you all.

“Wait, Dean knew? Both of us? This whole time?” you looked to Sam for clarification.

“Yeah, pretty much. He came up with this horrible plan, and I was forced to go along with it, not that I’ll mind waking up next to you,” Sam explained, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Jackass,” you muttered, seeing Dean exiting the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam.

“You’re very welcome,” he said sweetly. “Now if you two lovebirds don’t mind, I’ve got a bed to hog.” With that, he dove onto the squeaky mattress closest to the door.

You and Sam just laughed. All’s well that ends well, I guess.

“You better believe I’ll return the favor one day, Dean,” you said mischievously.

At that, Dean shot up in bed, “Oh no you will not. I don’t know what kind of plan you’re cooking up in that head of yours, but I already don’t like it,” he said, giving you a what you were sure he hoped was a menacing glare.

You smiled at him, climbing into bed with Sam. This is gonna be fun. “Trust me, would ya? I know what I’m doing,” you echoed his words, punctuated with the click of the dusty motel lamp as you switched it off, throwing the room into darkness.

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[katnisswinchester-blog1]

Dean decides it's time to tell Cas how he feels.

Okay, so, this is my first Supernatural fanfic, so it's probably not that good.

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Dean came into his room with a mission in mind. Sitting down on his bed, he closed his eyes, taking a few minutes to find courage to say what he wanted to say.

“Castiel… I-I pray to god you DON’T have your ears on, ‘cause I need to say this and I don’t know how I feel about you hearing it. I… umm… You… did a good job hunting that poltergeist today. You’re almost graduating from a hunter in training to an actual hunter. Maybe soon you’ll go on your first solo case… Okay, umm, that’s not what I wanted to say. I mean, not that you didn’t do a good job, you were actually really good, I just… ugh.”

Dean’s phone vibrates out of nowhere, making him jump. Sam’s name pops up on the screen, next to a text message.

-YOU’RE BABBLING-

The older Winchester grabs his phone and throws it behind him.

“Okay, Cas… I’m tired, man. I’m tired of you being so close but at the same time so far. I’m tired of you having to leave the bunker instead of living here with us. I’m tired of you going off by yourself to do god knows what while I stay here worrying about you; because yes, I worry about you. I worry a lot. I need you to see that. I need you to realize how much you actually mean to me. I’ve been trying to hide it for a long time now because I thought there was no point in telling you, but I don’t think I can keep holding it in. You’ve done so much for me. For us. More than you’ve ever needed to. I may not have seen it at the time, but you’ve always been there for me. Cleaning up my messes and making some messes of your own because of me, for me. You’ve sacrificed yourself for me and Sam more times than I can count. Hell, you’ve died for us! And all the times you’ve forgiven us! You went against your own nature to save us; no matter how many times we screw up, you always come back to us, to me. Look at all the things you’ve done for me and I’ve never even said “thank you”, so thank you. Thank you for everything. You know, it’s true that we share a profound bond, but I lied to you… I don’t… I could never see you as family. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I..I’m.. I’m… I'm-”

“HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU!” The younger Winchester screams from the other side of the door.

“Oh, shut up, Sam!” Dean gets up and opens the door, walking out to get a drink.

“What? That was a great speech, but you were never gonna say it.”  Sam walks two steps behind his brother, trying to suppress a smile. “Still, you said all that, and I’m sure it took a lot, so I’m proud of you.”

“Whatever, he probably wasn’t even listening.” Dean looks down, he felt better, now he was nervous because what if Cas WAS listening? Well, no matter the outcome, he felt like a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“Geez, I honestly hope he was…”

_The next day_                      

Dean wakes up to ‘Highway to hell’ on his alarm and jumps as he sees Castiel sitting next to him on his bed.

“Hello, Dean…”

Dean tries to shake off the bewildered look on his face.

“For fuck’s sake, Cas, you’re gonna give a heart attack one of these days.” The bow-legged beauty mumbled nervously, blocking last night’s confession from his thoughts.

“Umm… Sam… has found us a case.”

“Oh.”

Dean stares at his bedsheets, trying to figure out what to say, maybe Cas doesn’t know, maybe he wasn’t listening last night, the thought gave him some comfort, but it didn’t last long.

“Is it true?” The angel spoke, making Dean look at him.

“...Is what true?” He starts to panic, but hides it pretty well, or at least that’s what he thinks.

“Are you alright?”

“Is what true, Cas?” He insisted, sitting up.

“Perhaps it’s better if we talk about this later.” Cas seemed genuinely concerned.

Dean got up, pushing the blue-eyed beauty out of the way. He left his bedroom, walking to the library.

“Good morning!” Exclaimed Sam, looking at his brother, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He seemed troubled.

“Hey, what do you got?” He sat down.

“A man and a woman died a week ago in Belgrade, Montana.” Sam adjusts himself in his chair so he faces his brother.

“Sam, I don’t know how to tell you this, but men and women die all the time.”

“How many of them die because their organs melted?”

“Whoa. Okay, that looks like our kind of thing.Wait for you in-” Dean gets interrupted by the sound of his brother coughing. “You okay?”

“Hmm I’m sick. I have a really nasty cold. I’ll be alright, but I need to rest for a few days. Think you can handle this one?”

“Alone? You’re gonna let me work a case involving witches, alone?” Dean grinned at Sam.

“You won’t be alone.” Says Cas, walking into the room, catching the Winchesters attention. “I’ll go with you, Dean.”

“Well, what are you guys waiting for?”

Dean goes to his room to pack some things, Cas sits down asking Sam details about the case. No more than 20 minutes later, Dean and Cas are sitting in the Impala on their way to Montana. After a while, probably a couple hours, they stopped for 5 minutes to get food, and got back on the road. The tension inside Baby was almost palpable.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas finally spoke, surprising Dean, who almost choked on his soda.

“Peachy.” He said, cold.

“What’s the matter, Dean?”

“Nothing, Cas! Nothing.” He almost yelled.

Castiel didn’t respond, Dean was angry at him, he could sense it; but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t remember doing anything wrong. He wanted to push Dean, find out what was going on and fix it, but he knew doing that would just make things worse. So he didn’t say anything, and neither did Dean until they got to the morgue.

“Brace yourselves, fellas. This is a nasty one.” Brian, the doctor, a pale, tall guy with dark brown hair and eyes, stated, showing them one of the bodies.

“Thanks, we’ll take it from here.” The doc nodded, going back to his office.

Brian wasn’t lying, it was a nasty one. The only thing left of the corpse was skin and bones, the skin was burnt and thin so it basically just looked like a skeleton.

“What could’ve done something like this?” Cas asked but was ignored by the human, who immediately made a phone call.

“Sam, you were right. It looks witchy. Yes. I don’t know. What did you find out?” He starts walking out and Castiel follows him. “What? So you think mad wife? Or jealous boyfriend?” He got inside the Impala. “Okay, we’ll see if we find any hex bags. I’ll let you know. Alright.” Dean hangs up and looks at Cas. “Apparently Alex and Olivia, the human skeletons, were having an affair. Sam thinks the wife is guilty, so let’s go question the widow.”

That’s it. That’s all he said. After all those hours ignoring Cas, that’s the first thing he said. Cas was getting frustrated, he wasn’t going to leave things like this, he was going to get answers out of Dean even if he had to tie him to a chair and interrogate him. But that had to wait until after they were done talking to the suspect.

“Good afternoon, ma'am, I'm agent Perry and this is my partner agent Mendez. We're here regarding the death of your husband, Mr.Green?” Cas took the initiative this time, while Dean stared at him.

“Please, come in.” The widow was a nice woman, she had black curly hair and piercing green eyes, she looked sad. She signed for them to sit down. “Tea?”

“No, thanks, we're fine.” Dean sat down, Cas noticed he was being cold, well, more than usual.

“Please, I insist.”

“I said-”

“We would love some tea. Thank you, Mrs.Green.” Cas was getting on Dean's nerves and he knew it.

Mrs.Green smiled, serving them tea and sitting in front of them.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Dean got up as Mrs.Green nodded. When he was kind of far away he started looking for hex bags, old grimoires, cat bones, anything witchy. After a while of not finding anything, he gave up and went back to the living room where he found Cas sipping on the tea Mrs.Green had served them, looking miserable. “Well, I think it's time for us to go. Thank you for answering my partner's questions.” He said, heading towards the door.

“Wait, aren't you going to try the tea?” Mrs.Green was making puppy eyes, which didn't affect Dean but he went back and drank his tea just to get it over with.

After a couple minutes they were in the car driving to a motel.

“Dean.” Cas called his name, but he didn't answer. “Dean!” He almost yelled this time.

“What?!”

“Nothing. Ugh. You can be so frustrating sometimes.” Said the angel, looking out the window.

“What did you say?” Dean was suddenly interested in the conversation.

Castiel didn't say a word, he just kept looking through the window. If Dean thought he could ignore him all day and then demand answers, he was wrong. Two can play this game.

“Cas, what did you say?!” He insisted. When he realized Cas wasn't going to respond, he left him alone until they got to the motel.

After checking in, and getting to their room, Dean grabbed Cas’ arm.

“What was that you said back in the car?”

Pulling away from Dean, Cas walked to the bed and sat down. “I said you're frustrating.”

“Me? Frustrating?! You're the one who can't take a fucking hint.” He snapped.

“What are you talking about?” Castiel tilted his head to one side, trying to understand what the human was saying.

“See?! That's what I fucking mean! Ugh.” He walked to the bathroom. “I'm gonna take a shower.” Dean walked inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Oh, no, you don't get to walk away from me. This conversation is not over!” The angel got up, opening the bathroom door and finding a shirtless Dean Winchester looking at him.

“Fine. Talk.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

Cas stared at him for a few seconds before remembering how to english. “You've been ignoring me all day. Why?”

“I have a boner right now.”

Castiel's face turned red and before he knew it he was looking down. “What?”

Dean walked out of the restroom in panic. “I don't know why I said that. What the hell?”

“I would like you to show me.” They stared at each other's eyes, Cas looked terrified and he instantly covered his mouth. “I didn't mean to-”

“Last night, did you hear me?” Dean sat down, he was starting to figure out what was happening.

“Yes” Cas got serious, he sat down in front of Dean, he still didn't know what was going on, but Dean seemed calm, which instantly made him calm down.

“And… How do you feel about it?” The human looked down, embarrassed.

“About what you said?” Dean nodded. “I… Why are you asking me this?” Cas wanted to tell him everything, the way he felt when Dean was close to him, that feeling in his stomach, something he'd never felt before, how he had the desire to kiss him every time they were alone, how he made him nervous, how he had awakened these feelings that were hard to hold back, and how he lived in constant fear of losing him.

“If you heard me last night, then you should know why I need to know how you feel.”

“I…” Cas got up, walking up to Dean. The human didn't move a single inch, losing himself in the angel's eyes as he got closer. Dean felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: butterflies. His hands started shaking and he held his breath. “I feel the same way.” With those words he grabbed Dean's face and kissed him. Dean closed his eyes, he had been waiting for that moment for what felt like an eternity. What started as a sweet kiss soon became the beginning of a make out session. Cas started kissing and biting Dean's neck.

“I want you on top of me” The human said between moans, Cas made him feel like a teenager all over again.

“As you wish” The angel smiled as his eyes shined with lust. Those feelings he kept trying to push back came rushing out. He took his shirt off. “Stand up.” He ordered. Dean happily obeyed, but he wasn't standing for long. Cas pushed him on the bed and climbed on top of him, licking down his chest and belly, stopping right above his belt as Dean lightly pulled his hair. It was finally happening.

_The next day_

“Shhhh” Cas said from the bed when he saw Sam was about to scream.

“Oh my god. I can't believe it worked!” Sam's voice was high, like he wanted to scream, he looked like a fangirl.

Cas got up, carefully placing Dean's head on the pillow. “What are you talking about?” He gave Sam a hug.

“There was no case.” He grinned. “Well, there was, but Rowena took care of the witch. I lied to you guys. I'm guessing you drank the tea?”

“The tea!!”

“It was some kind of truth potion, right?” Dean said weakly from the bed, waking up.

“Yeah, Rowena did it. After I asked her, of course.” Sam smiled. He could sense that his brother was happy.

“Rowena? She could've killed us!"

“Cas, it's okay, we're fine.” Dean got up and tapped Cas’ shoulder.

“That's a risk I had to take, I was tired of the tension... Oh, shit I gotta go!" Sam started walking towards the door.

“Where you going?” Dean looked at his brother.

“To call Charlie, she's gonna wanna know” Sam grinned and walked out. “Casdean is real!!” Dean and Cas heard him scream from the hallway and laughed.

“Damn right it is.” Dean said before kissing Cas’ forehead.

THE END.

#supernatural fan fiction #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #casdean #spnfandom #spn fanfic #fanfic #deastiel

[alizona8-blog]

Supernatural Dean x (Cat!)Reader

Summary:  Reader gets turned into a cat by a witch and Dean takes care of her.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3783

Warnings: Language, lots of fluff

A/N: This is my first story, so please be gentle! I’m not a native English speaker so there are porbably a lot of mistakes... I hope you don’t mind:D And I would appreciate any feedback! Now have fun with the story!^^

“Go to hell, b*tch!”, you screamed while shooting at the witch with the witch-killing bullets that were in your gun. Sam had invented them a short time ago and they were pretty helpful at killing all kinds of witches.

But this witch was a really withstanding one.  

The Winchester brothers and you were hunting together ever since the day they met you while hunting vamps, you helped them and even saved the younger, but taller one, Sam, from one of the vampires, from the son of a b*tch that seemed to be their leader. You had grown on them during that time and they had also grown on you, so they asked you to go and hunt with them, since you were alone and had nobody else. Your family was killed by vampires when you were a little kid, so you trained to become a hunter to avenge them. Actually, you were saved by a good friend of Bobby's which took you in and trained you, but unfortunately, he died one year ago so you were all by yourself. You had never heard of or saw the Winchester's before. On the hunt you met, you got into talking and as soon as the name Bobby fell, you knew you could trust them and they knew they could trust you.

Now, the three of you were hunting that witch that had already killed three men. It was the ugliest witch you had ever seen, she really looked like the typical witch: long, grey hair, a fat nose,… Just the typical witch. And she seemed to like killing young men, you haven't figured out why, but one thing was sure: That b*tch's gonna die after tonight.

It took you a long time to convince Dean to allow you to go on a hunt with them, since he was very protective of you because he didn't want you to get hurt. You had developed strong feelings for the older Winchester brother, and you hoped that he felt the same way, but you couldn't imagine him falling for someone like you. He was just being protective because you were kind of part of the family so you didn't think he would feel something for you the way you did for him. You were just like a little sister he took care of, nothing more… at least, that was what you thought.

You three had split up and to look for the witch in an old abandoned house in the woods, and soon you had found her in the basement, while she was too busy doing witch stuff that included things like preparing spells and whatever those f*cking b*tches were doing. Slowly, you walked towards her, trying not to make a sound, while her back was facing you. You were sure that she didn't hear you, but then suddenly, she turned around and threw some sticky, stinky stuff at your face while saying: “I've been expecting you to come way earlier, honey...” “Shut the f**k up!”, you screamed while trying to wipe the smelly stuff out of your face, using the sleeves of your jacket. “Don't be so rude!”, the witch screamed and tried jumping towards you, but you were faster than her and had shot her before she could even touch you in any way.

“Got to hell, b*tch!”, you screamed and a smile appeared on your face when you saw her turning into ashes in front of your feet before vanishing completely. But your smile didn't last long: You felt strange, your body was hurting and the world was moving fast around you.

Later, you found out that it was not the world that was moving, it was actually you: You began shrinking, the world became bigger and bigger in each second that passed, and soon, you were surrounded by cloth. Immediately you began panicking, you couldn't see anything because of the fabric all around your face and your entire body, but after a few seconds you found a way out of the clothes. Your clothes to be exact. The witch had turned you into a small cat with the spell she threw at you, and now you were stuck in the basement.

It was a strange feeling to be a cat, to have fur everywhere, no protecting clothes, fluffy little paws that were not able to hold a gun... You ran towards the stairs that led upwards to the main floor of the house, but they were too high for your small cat body to jump on. What was really strange actually because cats can jump very high normally, but those stairs looked huge and you didn't want to risk your life by trying to climb stairs.

Ha, what a fun way to die… Instead of dying a memorable and courageous death, I'm going to die trying to climb some stairs…

You didn't want to risk dying, so you needed to think about another solution.

Dean and Sam!

The only way you could get Sam and Dean's attention was to make a sound. So you sat down and started meowing, hoping the boys would hear you. Wow. You never felt more miserable in you life than now. Again, it was strange for you not to be able to speak, meowing being the only way of communication.

Seconds later, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs and you could make out Dean's figure in the darkness of the basement. You stopped meowing and ran towards him, brushing your body against Dean's leg in an attempt to get his attention. But as soon as he felt something touching his leg, he jumped and screamed like a little girl which would have made you laugh if you were human.

“Dean, what's wrong? Are you okay?!”, you heard Sam's alerted voice approaching the basement and soon he stood next to Dean, trying to calm him down.

“Something touched me!” Dean was still screaming, but he soon relaxed as Sam pointed his flashlight towards you.

“It's just a cat, jeez, calm down.” Sam said, relieved, and started looking around, probably thinking the witch was still here somewhere.

Dean on the other hand was suspicious, he stared at you and didn't move, he just kept watching you.

“Sam, c'mere… I think she's the witch...”, he whispered towards Sam, but all Sam did was laugh and chuckle.

“I'd rather say it's (Y/N)...”, he mumbled while picking up your clothes off the floor.

Now both of them were staring at you, and it was completely silent until Dean started bursting out laughing. “Whaaaat! Shit, Sam, you know what that means?”, he said, wiping away tears. Sam shook his head and sighed, already expecting a joke coming out of Deans mouth at any second.

“She became a p*ssy!”

That was it. Dean was too proud of his own joke and he couldn't stop laughing, and you were getting mad, so you simply left a mark on his leg with the claws on your front paws.

I mean, hey, why not use your advantages while you still have them?

“Ow, what was that for… I was just tellin' the truth...”, Dean mumbled while glaring down at you.

“Dean, I think we should go now. It looks like she has already killed that witch, right, (Y/N)?”, Sam asked, just to be sure.

You quickly nodded your little kitty head, trying to tell them you had already done the job. The boys were heading upstairs, Sam first, but Dean ended up picking up your clothes before walking up the stairs, with a huge grin plastered onto his face. You rolled your eyes at his behavior and quickly followed him, but you then realized you couldn't walk up the stairs. Now you were in the same situation as before, so you started meowing again. Dean turned towards you and tilted his head lightly in confusion, frowning, strongly reminding you of Cas, but then he seemed to understand and walked back down the stairs. He picked you up as carefully as he could and held you in his arms. You kinda enjoyed the feeling of his strong, muscular arms on your body and you started producing a sound without you actually wanting to.

“Awww, look at that! Little kitty is purring!”, Dean teased while looking down at you, smirking. Soon, you were leaving the house and Dean headed towards his car. He threw all of your clothes into the backseat and then climbed into the drivers seat, Sam was riding shotgun as always. Dean was still carrying you in his arms, and when he sat down into the car, he carefully placed you on his lap. You accepted your seat on Dean's lap gratefully and began curling up into a small ball, still purring.

“She kinda looks cute like that… even though I miss her human body.”, Dean said towards Sam and started the engine, then placed his left hand on your little figure.

“I would've never thought I would ever say that, but I miss her sarcasm and her bold behavior...”

You started purring louder than before at his statement, and if you were human, you were sure you would've been red like a tomato right now.  

“And I would've never thought that you'd get that close to a cat… I mean, come on, you hate cats, and now you're carrying one in your lap? Dean, is that really you?”, Sam teased while looking at his brother, a fake shocked expression on his face.

“Sam, shut up. Don't talk like that in front of (Y/N), she can hear you. She has feelings, too”, Dean retorted, placing a hand on top of your little head in a protective way.

As soon as he started moving his hand down your spine in an attempt to pet you, you started feeling dizzy and tired, and soon you drifted off to sleep in Deans lap…

You woke up when the car stopped and when Dean started moving around a bit, so you began to stretch your legs and yawned.

“Hey kitty, we're home”, Dean said softly before picking you up and walking towards the bunker. As soon as you walked through the door, Dean sat you down onto the floor and walked towards the kitchen, you following him on every step he took.

“You hungry?”, he asked, smiling, and all you could do was meow happily. You actually were pretty hungry, you couldn't even remember the last time you ate something. He chuckled at your cuteness and began cooking chicken and started reheating some leftovers.

The smell of chicken almost drove you crazy, and you started pressing your body against his legs, purring like an idiot. The smell of food was even more intense now that your nose was way better than a normal human nose, and you started to almost go crazy.  

He laughed at your actions and put the chicken, which was ready by now, onto a plate. Before he could put that onto the floor, Sam entered the kitchen and quickly stopped him from doing so.

“Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Why? She's hungry and I'm making her food!”, Dean explained, not knowing what he did wrong this time.

“You can't give a cat human food, are you crazy? It's not good for her belly! We have to buy cat food and give her milk!”

“Oh… sorry Sammy, I forgot she can't eat that...”, Dean said, looking down at you, sad and there was a slightly hint of worry in his eyes.

What's that? Is he worried about me? Because he almost gave me something that could've made me sick?

But anyways, you were getting angry at Sam. You wanted to eat chicken so bad now and he was the one that didn't allow you to eat it.

So you gave him a death glare and turned your back towards him.

“Aw look at that, kitty is angry at you!”, Dean teased and bent down to pet you.

Sam just sighed before leaving the kitchen, and as soon as he did, a tiny piece of chicken fell onto the floor and you quickly grabbed it with your teeth and ate in a matter of seconds.

“Oops, no, the chicken fell accidentally onto the floor… bad kitty, how could you eat it?”, Dean sarcastically scolded, smiling down at you and winking with one eye.

After Dean had given you some milk he had found in the fridge, you two went to the living room in order to watch some TV.

But, to your surprise, none other than Cas stood in the middle of the living room, just staring at the both of you as you walked in.

“Hello Dean. Why is there a feline standing at your feet?”, he asked in his monotone voice, tilting his head slightly in his usual, kind of cute way.

“Oh, well, that's (Y/N)...”, Dean explained and Cas nodded understandingly.

Castiel now stared down at you, his bright blue eyes piercing into your (y/e/c) ones.

“I should have known that by her thoughts, I have to apologize...”

“Wait, you can hear what she thinks? That's great, now we can communicate with her! Tell me what she's thinking, Cas!”, Sam exclaimed.

Now you felt slightly uncomfortable under Cas' gaze and you tried to think about anything expect Dean. You kept thinking about him all day, the way it felt when he petted you with his strong hands and how good it felt to sleep on his lap...

“She is thinking about how it makes her feel comfortable when you pet her and let her sleep on you, and...” But before he could reveal all of your secret fantasies about Dean, you cut him off by meowing loudly.

Dean chuckled and bent down, petting you again, but this time, he was massaging your back in a way that made you purr as loud as you could. You could stand there all day long, it just felt so good…

Castiel just stared at Dean, confused as always, he didn't understand why it made you feel so happy when Dean just moved his hand up and down your spine. He slowly approached the two of you and carefully stretched out his right arm, his hand touching your fur faintly. Dean stopped petting you in order to let Cas pet you, too. You moved your head into Cas' direction and pressed it against his hand, he froze and was a bit shocked at first, but then he quickly started to pet you, a bit stiff at first, but after a while he got into it. Never have you felt that happy in your life, and you couldn't control your body anymore. You simply laid down on your back, exposing your belly, in order for Cas to pet it. He read your thoughts and soon he began stroking your belly fur. Enjoying the feeling in your whole body, you purred as loud as you could, making Castiel smile. Dean on the other hand wasn't smiling. Obviously jealous, he shoved Cas away from you and picked you up, which made you pout because you enjoyed it very much.

“I'm sorry Cas, but she only likes when I pet her. And only I.”

“I do not understand. She said it pleased her very much.”, Cas said, tilting his head and staring at Dean with his confused puppy eyes.

“Someone is jeaalouuus…!”

Sam had stepped into the living room, obviously standing in the doorway the whole time.

“Who is jealous of who?”, Cas asked again, not really understanding anything.

“Dean is jealous of you because you petted (Y/n).” “Now I understand. But why is Dean jealous, I was just doing what (Y/n) wanted me to do.”

“Guys, could you just stop? I'm tired!”, Dean exclaimed, sighing while putting you down onto the floor again.

“Yeah yeah Dean, whatever...”, Sam said, with a grin plastered on his face. “I have good news. I was doing some research and found out that this kind of spell only lasts one day. So she should be normal again by tomorrow.”

“Good. I'm takin' a shower now and then we should all go get some sleep, it's getting late...”, Dean mumbled and left to go to the bathroom. At first, you wanted to follow him, but then you realized you couldn't just sit there watching him take a shower. Although you kinda liked that idea…

Nevertheless, you stayed in the living room and told Cas to pet you again. Sam tried petting you too, but you were still mad at him, so you just hissed at him which made him back away.

“Okay, I guess you don't want me to pet you…”, Sam said, a bit sad because of your aggressive behavior towards him.

You just rolled your eyes and laid back down on your back and let him pet you, you didn't want Sammy to be sad.

But soon Cas said he had to go and do some stuff in heaven, so he left, and Sam also had to go and do whatever he does, so you decided to go to the bathroom to see if Dean was ready.

The door was closed so you had to wait in front of the door, and you started meowing and scratching on the door, to “tell” him he should hurry. You heard footsteps approaching and Dean opened the door, half naked, only in his boxers. Water was dripping down his perfect body, and the heat was rising into your head. Even as a cat you could still get turned on by his hot body... Once again you would have blushed if you would've been human, and you couldn't stop staring at his toned body. He stared down at you with a huge smirk plastered on his face.

“You like what you see, don't you?”

Dean then put on one of his AC/DC shirts and you were kinda upset because you couldn't admire his body anymore.

“Time to go to sleep, kitty.”

You quickly followed him as he headed for his room and as he laid down in bed, he got you up and laid you down beside him. Dean put the blankets over the both of you and you snuggled up into his chest. He smelled so good and the warmth of his body was overwhelming, you didn't think that it would feel that nice to lay next to him. You realized that this was everything you had wished for, cuddling with Dean and feeling his hot breath on you.

“I think it's a good time to tell you that I really like you, (y/n)… Not because you look so damn cute now, but you look really damn sexy as a human too…”, Dean mumbled into your ear while stroking your back. “Now, sleep well kitty...” You immediately drifted off to sleep, still purring and with Dean's hand on your back, not really realizing what he had just said because you were so tired.

“Goodnight kitty...”

As you woke up the next morning, still half asleep, you looked around in confusion. You were laying in Dean's room, you knew because you saw empty beer bottles and clothes laying around everywhere. But something was different. You could feel someone's hot breath against your neck, and a body pressed tightly against yours. Two strong arms were holding you in a firm grip and you tried to turn around to see who was cuddling with you. Slowly turning around, you saw that you were laying face to face with none other than Dean. You could feel his arms on your skin, holding you tightly, your naked body pressed against his…

Wait, NAKED?!

Then the memory of yesterday hit you like a bullet and with a bolt, you jumped up in bed and quickly covered your skin with a blanket. Dean had also woken up by now, he slowly rubbed his eyes, still half-asleep.

“Wha-”, he mumbled before realizing that first, you were human again and second that you were naked.

“Oh you're back… Too bad, I liked you more as a kitten...”, he joked, his usual grin spread across his handsome face.

“Shut up, jerk...”, you rolled your eyes, playfully hitting him on his shoulder.

“Come back here, I want to sleep more...”, he ordered and pulled you back down next to him, embracing you in his strong arms. You had never felt protected like this before, with his arms around your waist, you felt like no one could ever harm you.

But still, there was one tiny little thing...

“But Dean, I'm naked...”, you exclaimed but he just chuckled and rolled his eyes. “And I don't care.”

You sighed, but then relaxed into his arms, feeling really safe and like nothing bad could happen to you as long as you laid next to him like that.

Then you remembered something he said before you feel asleep.

“Dean?”

“Mhm?”, he just grunted into your ear, making you shiver.

“Did you… did you mean what you said last night? I mean, that you like me...”, you asked him shyly, blushing really mad.

“Of course I meant it. I wouldn't have said it if I wouldn't mean it. I like you, (y/n)… And by I like you I mean I really, really like you.”

“Wait, so you want to tell me that you love me?!”

“Well,… yeah, you could say that, too...”, he chuckled.

You could feel his smile as he kissed your neck, shivers running down your spine again as his hot lips touched your skin.

“I love you too Dean...”

“What? Really? I thought you didn't like me the way I like you...” “I thought about you in the same way”, you chuckled lightly, turning around so you could look into his bright green eyes.

“Well then you sure as hell won't care if I do this...”, he whispered before leaning down closer to you, touching your lips gently with his.

Closing your eyes, you leaned in further, pressing your lips against his in a passionate way.

You had been waiting for this for too long, you couldn't hold back anymore.

You could feel him smile into the kiss and soon you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, asking for entrance to deepen the kiss.

Now it was your turn to smile and you teased him by pressing your lips together, but as he bit into your lip, you gasped and opened your mouth slightly in the process which was his chance to stick his tongue into your mouth.

“Shit (y/n), I love you...”, he moaned as you moved your hands to his hair and lightly pulled at it.

I think you can imagine how the story goes on...

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff