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autisticandroids · 3 years

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Okay so this was a while back but im preety sure you had mentioned an au of yours where dean is a serial killer and cas successfully stalks him but i don't think you talked about it more than that and i just really want to hear a bit more bc that idea sounds so tastefully fucked up

okay so. weeks later i finally end up answering this ask. it inspired this post btw. anyway spn is a show that's like. all about justifications, as i said in the post inspired by this ask. it's about having no choice and doing what you have to do. and like there is the phantasy embedded in it, a phantasy that is both indulged and punished. but most importantly it's justified. the monsters are super strong to show how brave our heroes are for fighting them, the main characters let out great wails of grief every time their lady loves are violently ripped from them (even though now they are free to do whatever they want), the narrative twists to show our heroes as correct whatever they do. the fantasy (of being allowed to enact violence, of being free from feminine "control," of being right) comes first. the material construction of the universe of supernatural comes afterward. whatever the fantasy is, the universe of supernatural will provide material conditions to justify its acting-out.

and what this means is that our protagonists, dean in particular, are constantly doing just horrific things, which in any other circumstance would be unconscionable. but the universe of supernatural provides justification for these acts. the point of my serial killer au which i think about so so so much is to ask the question: what if these justifications melted out from under their feet? what if dean was left holding nothing but a lie and the weight of everything he's done?

therefore, the premise of my au is such (under the cut because this baby is long):

john and mary winchester, in the mid seventies, joined a doomsday cult known as the men of letters. the men of letters were rather unusual for a doomsday cult, in that they believed that the apocalypse could be prevented by human behavior. this started as correct living, correct worship, yadda yadda, the kind of behavior and thought control that cults are known for, but with the justification of: if you don't do this, the world will end. eventually, this escalated to human sacrifice. the men of letters managed to untraceably kill two homeless people in the late seventies. but they eventually fell apart. however, a month after john and mary left the men of letters (mostly john's choice, mary still believed), mary died in a house fire. john took it as a sign from god that actually, the men of letters were right, and the world would end unless john himself did something about it. so he took some of the (intensely numerological) theology of the men of letters. and he worked out his own formula. and he applied it to the yellow pages. and started ritualistically killed people to prevent the apocalypse, with his two sons in the back of the car.

now, obviously, this is some kind of grief induced temporary madness on john's part, shaped by the mental abuse he suffered in the men of letters. but the thing is, once you've killed a couple of people to prevent the apocalypse. well. there's this thing called the sunk costs fallacy. john wasn't gonna question his own beliefs after that.

and he raised his boys to believe it, too, or at least he raised dean to. they didn't tell sam what they did until he was twelve, and sam didn't buy it, tried to call the cops on them several times but in the end, they always prevented him. eventually sam ran off to stanford, where he now lives under a cloud of guilt that he's too loyal to his family to rat them out.

john died a few years back of a heart attack, but dean is convinced it's because he messed up a ritual two weeks before it happened, so it pushed him further into this belief system.

dean's killings (and john's before him) are ritualistic and distinctive, obviously the same killer each time. but they happen anywhere in the united states, seemingly at random, there are inconsistent amounts of time between each one (sometimes as short as days, sometimes as long as years), and there is no particular victim profile. obviously, since our killers are following an arcane mathematical formula to make their choices for them, but the police don't know that.

castiel novak is an unemployed shut-in with a small inheritance which he's living off of, a cryptography degree, and an obsession with all things morbid. he spends most of his time on the reddit true crime forums, playing amateur sleuth. by complete chance, he happens to recognize one of the symbols frequently used in corpse displays by the so-called sioux falls satanic slaughterer (so named because the first time three of his victims were in the same part of the country, it so happened that they were all in sioux falls, south dakota. this was in the late eighties.) as being mostly only used by a little known cult group called the men of letters, which dissolved in the mid eighties.

he only notices this because, as a teen, he had a special interest in cults and fringe religious groups. the men of letters weren't a particularly notable or well known phenomenon; they were small, and a lot like every other cult that formed during the seventies cult boom. (no outsider ever heard about the human sacrifice; there were rumors, of course, but they were garbled, sensationalized, and mixed up with satanic panic fodder.)

(the men of letters' two sacrifices were nothing particularly romantic or fantastical. they first lured panhandler josie sands back to their compound with promises of food and a warm bed when she admitted she couldn't get a bed at a shelter, and was thinking of getting caught shoplifting just so she could be under a roof in the county jail. the men of letters' leader, a man who took on the name alistair, forced his inner circle to dress in the ceremonial black robes he had given them when he initiated them into his nearest and dearest, and which his wife had sewn out of old bed sheets and dyed black with home made oak gall dye. these robes still left black smudges on the wearer's skin occasionally if they sweated too much. josie was laid, bound, on the altar, a slapdash thing constructed over the course of two days from scrap plywood and a couple of milk crates. a rich red tablecloth purchased at macy's for $3.99 hid its ugliness and gave it grandeur. alistair attempted to kill the struggling miss sands by bringing a sharpened kitchen knife down on her bosom and piercing her heart, but, having never killed a human or even slaughtered an animal before, was unaware of the problem presented by the human ribcage. after rather ineffectually poking at the area beneath sands' bosom with his knife while she shrieked in pain and terror for about ninety seconds, alistair tried a different tack, and slit her throat, which worked just fine, and she bled out quite nicely. the second and final victim of the men of letters was a local vagrant named larry ganem, an older gentleman who walked with a limp. he was lured back to the compound in approximately the same manner as sands, but instead of being bound, he was fed stew laced with sleeping pills. even if alistair hadn't slit his throat, he wouldn't have woken up. it's actually arguable whether he was still alive at time of sacrifice; mary winchester (eight months into her first pregnancy), who, as a member of the inner circle, was in attendance, actually tried to take ganem's pulse as he lay on the altar (now covered by a different tablecloth; the red one had turned stiff with sands' blood and been subsequently burned) and found nothing, so it is entirely possibly only sands' death can be directly laid at alistair's feet, and ganem's is the fault of mrs. ellen harvelle, who prepared the laced stew. regardless, these two deaths are lessons in the nature of human evil: it is very rarely skilled, suave, or smooth. it's often slapdash, half-hearted, and just plain incompetent. but that makes it no less grisly. alistair may have begun to drink his own kool-aid, as it were, and escalated this far out of genuine belief that the apocalypse was coming and it was up to him to stop it, but it is far more likely that he sensed the imminent collapse of his little empire, and wanted to bind his subjects to him through the horrors of shared guilt, considering two lives a small price to pay for the continued loyalty of his inner circle. and the tactic worked: the men of letters didn't start to collapse in earnest until almost four years later. perhaps if alistair had continued the killings, the men of letters could have lasted for far longer, maybe even up until the present day. but it seems that alistair, a psychiatrist by training and unused to violence, simply didn't have the stomach for it. unlike, say, john winchester, who before his time with the men of letters had done a two year tour in vietnam, during which he had killed three living, thinking human beings with the american government's go-ahead.)

anyway. castiel is the first person, ever, to make the connection between the men of letters and the sioux falls satanic slaughterer. and once that connection is made, castiel begins to research the men of letters far more in-depth. and he notices something: the theology of the men of letters was intensely numerological, filled with patterns, significant numbers, and even spiritual equations.

castiel thinks of the seemingly random selection of the slaughterer's victims, and has an epiphany.

he cracks all his fingers, and gets coding.

six months. it takes castiel six months to discover an equation that could fit the slaughterer's pattern. it's complex, but also clearly based on several of the men of letters' holy numbers, and accounts for every single one of the killings. it also suggests that there should have been two or three more deaths scattered across the years, but more than likely those did happen, it's just that they weren't reported as part of the slaughterer's portfolio.

but much more importantly, castiel's model can also make predictions. there will be two killings, fifteen days apart, in a city seven hours' drive away, six weeks from now.

so castiel waits. and he books a hotel room. and two months later, he's waiting outside 217 oak street when a shadowy figure climbs up a tree and lets itself into the upstairs window.

dean winchester is feeling particularly all alone in the world when he breaks into maisey banks' home (217 oak street). his father has been dead for half a decade, and he hasn't spoken to his baby brother for twice that. it's not like this whole grizzly saving the world business makes him a lot of friends. so once he's done killing maisey (which is easy, she was ninety three and dying of cancer anyway. she doesn't even wake up when he slits her throat) and arranging her corpse in the appropriate manner, with prayers and sigils, he turns around. and sees a man standing behind him.

smiling slightly.

as he watches dean gut this old woman.

dean freezes.

the man takes a step forward.

"you're very attractive for a serial killer who's been operating since the eighties."

dean is silent.

"family business, is it?"

silence continues.

"i'm not here to report you to police. i'm just here to see if my algorithm worked right."

and dean finally breaks his silence: "what the hell is wrong with you?"

what's fun here is that dean knows (or rather "knows") that he isn't a serial killer. so he finds what cas is doing, this amoral serial killer stormchasing, morally repugnant. because cas has no way of knowing he isn't a regular serial killer.

there's also the fact that that cas proceeds to flirt with him. aggressively. and follows him back to his motel.

but the thing is that dean is all alone in the world. and as cas continues trailing him around, he starts getting, well, flattered. and feeling a little bit less alone.

it doesn't take very long before they fall into bed. even if cas is an amoral stalker with a fetish for what dean considers a distasteful yet necessary vocation.

so. they fall into bed. they fall in love. they make a little life together, in dean's big sexy car. dean tries to explain to cas that he's saving the world. that these people's lives are a necessary price to pay. and cas seems to listen.

of course, castiel doesn't believe a word of it. but he's found that he likes dean. really likes him. and he realizes that the collapse of dean's belief system would destroy him.

so he sets about becoming as complicit in it as possible.

even to the extent where, when dean is hit by a car and ends up into the hospital a day before one killing is meant to take place, castiel agrees to take on the job. (he doesn't actually kill anyone, obviously. but he does use his extensive skill with computers to create three fake newspaper articles which make it look like he has.)

but five years later, something goes wrong. really, really wrong. dean miscalculates the formula. and by the time he checks his work, the actual date of the next kill, as demanded by the formula, has passed. in fact, so have three others. and the world didn't end.

dean collapses. he hyperventilates. all those people. all those people. for no reason. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people.

cas seems totally unfazed. dean stares at him in shock. but cas just takes dean in his arms, and whispers in his ear: "oh, dean, i never believed in the equation. i love you no matter what you've done."

and dean buries his face in cas' chest.

#spn #asks #anonymous #abuse tw #violence tw

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expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

Not Jealous (Okay, Maybe a Little... Maybe a Lot)

8.1k

fluff, set sometime in s13, tfw gets a visit from the djinn queen

(okay so in 13x16, Cas says he killed most of the djinn guarding the Tree of Life, but this fic ignores that bc I like to think that Cas is an excellent negotiator and actually became friends with the djinn and their queen :))

also posted on ao3

created for CastielWasTheFirstTemptation for the Profound Bond Discord Exchange

Dean was having a crappy Tuesday. And he’d had plenty of experience with bad Tuesdays.

He was sitting in the library trying to parse through a stack of books, organizing them according to random categories he was half-sure Sam had made up to specifically torture him.

They’d been busy with hunts all month and on their one day off, Sam had decided it was “organize the bunker” day. He was downstairs in one of the storage rooms happily cataloguing away. Dean was stuck up here, doing the same thing, less happily.

He was tossing a book onto the Sewer Dwelling Monsters pile when the bunker door screeched open.

“Hey,” he called, grabbing another book and leafing through it. “You better have remembered to pick up beer and pie because I’m going crazy here.”

“Dean, we have a visitor.”

And that’s when Dean’s Tuesday got worse.

Dean looked up to see Cas standing on the stairway next to a ridiculously tall man—and that was saying something when they lived with Sasquatch himself. Dean only needed one look at the black tattoos snaking over the man’s bald head and forearms to realize he was a Djinn.

Quickly, Dean stood, pushing his chair back. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

The man fixed him with a heavy stare, then proceeded to scan the room. Cas spoke up, “Don’t worry, he’s not a threat.�� To the man, he said, “I promise it’s safe in here.”

“What—” Dean started, then the man nodded once and motioned to someone beyond the doorway.

In a loud voice, he announced, “May I present Queen of the Djinn, her majesty Zara.”

At his words, a woman swept through the door, dressed in a long, dark cloak, her arms and neck also covered in Djinn tattoos.

“Why, Castiel,” she said, gazing around the room. “What a lovely home you have. I have to say, though, I didn’t expect you to live underground.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean spoke up. “Who the fuck are you?”

The woman turned her eyes on him and Cas shifted uncomfortably. He was holding several reusable grocery bags in his hands. “Dean, this is Zara. My, uh, betrothed.”

“Your what?” Dean spluttered and the woman—Queen Zara, apparently—started down the stairs, her dress and cloak sweeping behind her.

“You must be Dean Winchester,” she said. “Castiel told me about you.” Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she extended her hand palm down, and Dean stared at it. He settled on shaking it, unsure whether she was expecting him to bow or kiss her hand.

“Sorry, can we back up for a second?” He looked up at Cas who was following the other Djinn down the stairs. “Did you say betrothed?”

“Yes,” Zara answered brightly.

“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, unsure if he was understanding this correctly. Cas looked a little guilty. “Care to elaborate, Cas?”

“I may have technically become married to Zara when I went in search of the fruit of the Tree of Life.” Dean raised his eyebrows, and he added, “And I may have forgotten to tell you.”

“You forgot to tell me?” Dean repeated.

“I was going to,” Cas said. “But then we ended up in that cartoon with the talking dog and there was so much going on—”

“If I may,” Zara interjected, and Dean realized Zara and the man, presumably her bodyguard, were watching them go back and forth. “I see there’s been a miscommunication. See, when Castiel arrived for negotiations to obtain the fruit of the Tree of Life, we Djinn were in the middle of a war. I asked for Castiel’s hand in marriage in exchange for giving him the fruit, and we pledged ourselves to each other, agreeing to hold the official binding ceremonies later when the war didn’t require all my focus.”

Dean glared at Cas. Pledged themselves to each other? Cas ducked his head with a sheepish look and set his grocery bags on the table.

Unbothered, Zara continued, “Now that the war has ended, I am able to turn my thoughts towards finalizing our relationship. I came to reunite with dear Castiel and bring him back to my kingdom for our official wedding ceremony.”

“Hold on,” Dean spoke up. “Wedding? Bring him back—Cas ain’t gonna marry you.”

Zara’s eye twitched. “I think that’s up to Castiel, isn’t it, Dean?”

Dean looked to Cas for help, who spoke up, “I’m afraid Dean is right, Zara. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I realized the extent of the commitment I made. I can’t marry you.”

Dean eyed Zara and her bodyguard, tensing for a fight, but Zara’s reaction was only to smile and pat Cas’ shoulder.

“It’s no surprise that you would feel that way, Castiel,” she said. “We hardly know each other, after all. I confess, part of my reasoning for journeying here was to see the real you, to learn about you. I’m eager for us to grow closer during our time together.”

“During our time—” Dean was interrupted by Zara clapping her hands. Instantly, the bunker door opened to admit a line of other Djinn who filed down the stairs, all carrying baskets or trunks or cases.

Dean stared at them. “What the fuck…”

“There’s more of them,” Cas said unhelpfully.

“Alright, we need to talk.” Grabbing Cas’ arm, Dean pulled him into the adjacent hallway. “Stay right there!” he told Zara, jabbing his finger at her.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas started as Dean dragged him into the hallway.

“Dude, what the fuck? Getting freaking engaged to a Djinn isn’t just something you forget to tell us about!”

“I was preoccupied!” Cas protested.

“And now you’re gonna let them into the bunker? Are you crazy?”

“They’re not a threat, Dean. Zara is very different from the Djinn we’ve encountered before.”

Footsteps sounded behind them and Dean turned to see Sam running over. “What’s going on out here, what’s all that noise?”

“We’ve been invaded by the Djinn,” Dean said, and Sam’s eyes widened.

“What? How? I’ll grab guns—”

“No, Sam.” Cas put out his hand to stop Sam from bolting down the hallway. “It’s not like that, they’re friendly.”

“Oh, so now you’re buddies with them?” Dean asked.

Cas shot him a look and started explaining the situation to Sam. Shaking his head, Dean peeked out through the doorway to watch the Djinn pile their belongings on the map table, Zara giving instructions.

Preoccupied? Really? Then again, communication never had been one of his and Cas’ strengths.

There were about ten other Djinn besides Zara and her bodyguard. One of the men set down a large trunk and Dean winced at the scuffing noise it made on the floor. Then the man opened the trunk and Dean startled, realizing it was filled with weapons and blades.

“Hey!” he protested, storming into the room. “No weapons allowed in here. You don’t wanna start something with us, this is our home turf.”

The bodyguard stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, but Zara only laughed. “This is a friendly visit, Dean, I assure you. These items are for Castiel, as part of my dowry.” She brightened, seeing Sam and Cas enter the room. “Sam Winchester, I presume?” She extended her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Sam took her hand and made an awkward nod, half bow. “Um, uh, pleasure."

“Charming,” Zara said with a laugh. She looked at Cas. “You were right, he does have such beautiful hair.”

Dean rolled his eyes and Zara motioned around the room. “As you can see, we’ve brought quite a few things. Would you mind having your attendants show mine to the cookery? We brought food for a feast.”

“Um, we don’t have attendants,” Cas said. He looked to Dean for help, and when Dean didn’t offer any assistance—Cas was the one who had gotten them into this mess—he said, “I can show you around.”

He headed off with Zara, her attendants holding baskets of food, and her bodyguard, who cast a suspicious look at Dean before following.

Dean glared at their retreating backs. “A feast? What the hell is happening?”

“She seems nice,” Sam commented.

“Nice? Did you miss the part where she’s engaged to Cas?”

“Yeah. Weird.” He started for the library. “I think we have a few books on Djinn. I wonder how binding their engagements are.”

Dean stared at his retreating back, then at the doorway where Cas and the Djinn had left through. “What the hell is going on?” he asked aloud.

A peek into the kitchen showed the Djinn plating food and cooking—Dean had to force himself to walk away before he started a war with them by barging in and demanding they stop touching his stove.

He followed Zara’s annoyingly regal voice to the hallway outside the bedrooms where Cas was apparently giving a tour to her and her bodyguard.

“How many people live here?” she asked as Dean walked over.

“Just the four of us,” Jack said.

Oh, so now Jack was in on it too. He smiled, noticing Dean. “Dean! You should try these cookies.” He held up something that looked suspiciously like what the Djinn had been putting on plates in the kitchen.

So now they were bribing his family with food? Crossing his arms, Dean said, “I don’t know if you noticed, Zara, but we weren’t exactly expecting you or your, uh, attendants. Just how long are you planning to stay here?”

“At least a week,” she answered, shattering any hope that they might be gone by 6pm. “Cas was just showing us all these extra bedrooms where we can stay.”

Dean glared at Cas, who avoided his eyes and motioned to Zara to follow him down the hallway. “Um, over here is where we keep archival documents,” he said.

Jack made to follow and Dean grabbed his elbow. “What’s her deal?” he asked, watching Zara and her bodyguard follow Cas down the hallway.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, following his gaze.

“She barges in here with a dozen Djinn saying she’s engaged to Cas? Are they trying to infiltrate us? Can you tell if she’s evil?”

“She isn’t saying she’s engaged, she is engaged to Cas.” Jack finished off his cookie. “Cas told me, when he came back from Zara’s kingdom.”

“He told you?” And not me? he wanted to add.

Maybe it was implied on his face because Jack looked mildly uncomfortable. “I can tell, she isn’t evil. She’s friendly.”

“What else did Cas say about her?” Dean asked, trying not to sound too interested or concerned. No need to panic; Cas had only gotten engaged to obtain the Tree of Life fruit. Not like Cas was actually into the Queen.

“Cas said she was very nice, but that he was in a rush and didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. I don’t think he thought she would come after him.”

“Yeah, he looks real concerned,” Dean muttered, hearing Cas’ voice echo down the hallway along with Zara’s laughter.

Wiping crumbs off his hands, Jack said, “I’m gonna get another cookie.”

Stopping to grab his gun first, Dean followed Jack back to the kitchen. He swore, if the Djinn made a mess… But the room was empty and surprisingly clean for the amount of activity that had just been going on in there.

They followed the sound of voices to the library where the tables had been pushed together and covered in platters and dishes. Dean stopped in the doorway, staring.

“Cool!” Jack exclaimed, going over to a plate stacked high with cookies.

“I told them we could have the feast in here,” Sam said at Dean’s elbow and Dean startled.

“You told them—” Fuming, he glared at the Djinn talking to Jack. “What’s the verdict? How many do I gotta kill to get Cas out of this engagement?”

“Put the gun away, you don’t have to kill anyone. According to a book I found, as long as Zara agrees to call the engagement off before the wedding begins, Cas isn’t tied to her.” He gestured to the book shelves. “You know, this isn’t such a bad thing, them being here. We've never actually gotten to talk to any Djinn before, and the Men of Letters don’t have much information on them.”

“Of course you’d be a nerd about this,” Dean complained. He nodded at where Zara was entering the room talking with Cas. “Don’t think she’s gonna give Cas up that easily. She already seems pretty attached.”

“I’m sure Cas will talk to her, let her know this is all a misunderstanding. In the meantime, try to be friendly, okay? We can’t risk getting the Djinn on our bad side.”

“We could take them,” Dean said and Sam gave him his patented bitch face. He huffed. “Fine.”

A clinking noise drew Dean’s attention to where Zara was standing at the head of the table, tapping a glass with a spoon. The room grew quiet and she announced, “I want to say thank you to the Winchesters and my betrothed Castiel for so graciously welcoming us into their home. I hope this meal marks the beginning of a wonderful alliance between us Djinn and the hunters. Now let us eat!”

Everyone moved to take a seat, Zara gesturing for Cas to sit at her right hand side. Dean pointedly took a spot close by to keep an eye on her. “I think you’ll enjoy this dish,” Zara said, passing him a bowl. “Cas tells me you’re the cook here.”

“Uh—” Dean took the bowl and ladled what looked like mashed potatoes on his plate. “When’d he have time to tell you that?”

Zara waved her hand. “We talked some when he came to my kingdom. He told me all about you and your brother and why you needed the Tree of Life’s fruit. I must thank you for saving the world quite a few times.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam spoke up.

Cas had been telling Zara about him? Inconsequential stuff, like that he cooked? Gathering himself, he said, “You know, we’ve encountered plenty Djinn before you.” He ignored the death stare Sam shot at him. “Had to kill plenty too. You wanna tell me how I’m supposed to trust you? What’s stopping you from poisoning all of us?”

Sam cleared his throat and the bodyguard standing behind Zara’s chair glowered at Dean. Dean glared back.

“Those Djinn were not part of my kingdom,” Zara said solemnly. “Our most sacred law is to never bring anyone harm. If I had found those Djinn you speak of, they would’ve been brought to a swift justice.” She glanced at Cas. “I’ve already gained the trust of Castiel, I'd hoped I had your trust as well.”

“You do,” Sam said quickly, side-eying Dean. “Dean’s just being, uh, cautious.”

Cas nodded, and across the table, Jack tore into his meal, seemingly not worried at all that the Djinn had prepared it. Sam gave Dean a pointed look and Dean rolled his eyes. So, Zara and her crew weren’t evil and apparently didn’t mean them any harm. Didn’t mean Dean was going to fall over himself trying to be friends.

Ignoring Sam’s record-setting bitch face, he hesitantly started eating, finding to his annoyance that Zara was right. This food was pretty damn good.

He kept his mouth shut throughout the rest of dinner. Zara answered Sam’s questions about her kingdom, about the community the Djinn had created in the mountains, hidden from humans. According to her, it was “Heaven on Earth.”

Scowling, Dean drank from the goblet in front of him. Some kind of concoction he wasn’t sure he liked or not. Zara sure was laying it on thick. When she mentioned royal gardens, Dean saw the moment interest flared in Cas’ eyes.

For fuck’s sake. Of course Zara loved to garden. Bet she had a whole bee farm, or whatever they called those. Anything to get in Cas’ pants, no doubt.

He tried another sip from the goblet and grimaced. No, not good, he decided. Way too similar to the healthy crap Sam was always eating. Cas asked about the plants Zara had in her gardens, and Dean wondered why Cas had never planted a garden here at the bunker. He was always talking about the benefits of spending time in nature since, apparently, they didn’t get enough sunlight living in an underground bunker. Then again, Dean hadn’t ever really taken Cas’ talk about gardens and sustainability seriously. He categorized Cas’ interest in plants and bees as just another example of what a dork he was. A powerful angel of the Lord, but a dork all the same.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” Zara told Cas as a few of her attendants served what Dean guessed was some kind of Djinn desert, some weird pale pudding. She leaned forward and took one of Cas’ hands, and Dean clenched his own hands into fists under the table.

Zara stroked her thumb over Cas’ knuckles. “Now that our tribe is at peace with our warring siblings to the North, we are looking to expand relations with other kinds. Humans, for instance, and angels. I think you can be a strong ally in making that happen.”

“I can try,” Cas said. He looked uncomfortable, staring at her holding his hand, and Dean remembered sitting across him in a brothel, trying to get him laid on possibly his last night on Earth. Good times. Even after years of being on Earth and talking to women, Cas never lost the deer in the headlights look when one of them showed interest in him. The sight gave Dean a strange satisfaction. Zara had no chance with Cas.

She was going to give it her best shot, though. As if a feast wasn’t enough, after dinner, Zara presented Cas with gifts—ornate swords and knives with gilded handles, books detailing the Djinn history and folklore, robes and cloaks like the ones Zara and her entourage wore. Cas kept a polite smile on his face, but Dean saw the increasingly overwhelmed look in his eyes at the sheer amount of gifts.

Dean felt similarly overwhelmed and, somewhere along the line, he decided he’d had enough of Zara doing her damndest to impress Cas, touching his arm at any given chance. She had Sam and Jack under her spell too, it seemed, because neither of them were bothered by the ridiculous show she was putting on.

Even when he left the library and shut the door to his room, voices and laughter carried down the hallway. He was glad everyone else was having a good time and completely ignoring the absurdity of this situation. Cas? Engaged? And to royalty?

Seething, he sat on his bed and turned on the TV, trying to distract himself. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he realized he was watching an infomercial for a nonstick pan.

A knock on his door sounded and he swore under his breath. “Go away, Sam,” he called. If he had to get another lecture about hospitality…

“It’s just me.”

Dean straightened, said, “Come in,” and Cas opened the door, holding a grocery bag.

“I know, I know,” Dean said. “Don’t be rude to our guests, blah blah blah. I get it.”

“You were very rude to Zara,” Cas agreed, shutting the door behind him. “She’s only trying to be kind.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah. Kind. That’s all.” Cas stared at him, cocking his head, and Dean rolled his eyes. Of fucking course Cas would be oblivious to Zara flirting with him. “You finally get through the fuckton of gifts she brought?”

Cas sighed. “It was too much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it all.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Sam will be up early organizing everything.” He nodded at the bag in Cas’ hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um,” Cas glanced down at it. “I thought you might want this.”

Dean took it from him and looked inside. The pie and beer he’d requested from the grocery store earlier that day. “Thanks,” he said.

Cas stepped closer to the bed, then hesitated. Dean motioned for him to sit and Cas did so on the edge of the bed, away from Dean’s legs. He glanced at the TV. “We should have another movie night soon. We haven’t had one in a long time.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He was pretty sure Cas was just trying to appease him, though he didn’t know why. He was the one who’d been rude to Zara, Cas’ “betrothed.”

He opened a beer and watched Cas out of the corner of his eye, heart starting to quicken a little, as it always did when he was alone with him. It was ridiculous, because he and Cas were just friends. Obviously. He didn’t know why he had to remind himself so often.

Cas twisted a loose thread on his trenchcoat sleeve. “Dean,” he started.

“Your girlfriend’s gonna start looking for you soon,” Dean interrupted. Cas lifted his head and squinted at him. “She sure is trying to impress you, going on and on about her kingdom.”

“It's a very beautiful place,” Cas said. “I wouldn’t mind visiting again. But I wouldn’t want to live there.” He studied him and Dean looked away, picked at lint on the comforter. “Dean, she may be trying to impress me, but I have no intention of marrying her, I never did. This whole situation is an unfortunate accident.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah. Of course.” Obviously. I know that. Didn’t mean Zara fawning over Cas didn’t make his skin crawl.

Cas looked like he wanted to say more, but he stood. “I suppose I should return to the library. Are you coming?”

“Uh, yeah, in a bit,”

Cas left and Dean stared at the closed door, then down at his pie. It shouldn’t matter what Cas did, who he was interested in, who flirted with him. Not like Dean had any say in the matter, not like they were dating or something—which was not an option. Because Cas was just a friend. His best friend, but a friend all the same.

Sighing, he picked up his pie and beer before he left his room. He was going to need them if he was going to have to watch Zara and Cas interact.

***

The next day, Zara and her entourage showed no signs of going home. Dean ran into several of them in the bathroom down the hall, two sitting in the kitchen talking to Jack, and four more in one of the archival rooms helping Sam—as Dean had suspected—catalogue Cas’ gifts.

Zara and Cas he found talking in the library, continuing a conversation from last night about agricultural practices in her kingdom. Apparently there was a lot to say on the topic. Last night, before going to bed, Zara had made some cheeky remark about waiting after the official wedding ceremony to consummate her and Cas’ marriage, and Dean had wanted to rip her head off. It only made things worse that apparently Cas wasn’t bothered by that remark, but of course not—Zara liked gardening and was cultured and had given him a million and one presents. There was no real reason to hate her, though that wouldn't stop Dean.

He paused in the library’s doorway, before Cas and Zara could spot him, and caught the tail end of what Zara was saying,

“I know that you are distanced from Heaven, as evidenced by you living with hunters.”

Dean bristled at the underlying meaning in her words—Cas had no place with him and Sam. They were just gross humans.

Zara continued, “We have many in my kingdom who have been displaced from their homes, who are no longer a part of their own. I think you will find us to be an accepting community.”

“I’m sure I would,” Cas said, and Dean’s heart sunk. “But Heaven hasn’t been my home in a long time. This is my home now.”

Dean felt a little stunned at his words. Cas said it so emphatically. As if the bunker wasn’t just a place he’d ended up, but somewhere he chose to be, wanted to be.

Making a U-turn, he grabbed his keys and jacket and took Baby out for a drive. Unfortunately, even the rushing wind through the windows and the blaring music on the radio couldn’t distract him from his thoughts.

Did Cas really think of the bunker as home? Here? With him and Sam and Jack? Well, of course, he told himself. Cas lived here, didn’t he?

It was more than that, though, Dean knew. Cas had rebelled against Heaven to help them. Stuck by their sides for years. If this wasn’t his home, then where else?

And who did Zara think she was? She thought Cas needed a home, that she could give him one. As if they weren’t good enough for him. Well, Dean knew Cas deserved a lot better, but they got along pretty well. Had been through enough shit together, at least.

Zara had met Cas only once; she hadn’t stopped apocalypses and faced demons with him. Dean knew Cas better than anyone, or so he liked to think. Cas knew him better than anyone, at least.

That’s what this is, he told himself. Why Zara annoyed him so much. He was just pissed that Zara thought she knew what was best for Cas. It didn’t matter that Cas seemed to get along well with her, that she had so much in common with him, that she wanted to marry him. Technically, if Cas wanted to marry her too, that wasn’t a problem either.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and glared out at the road. Not a problem.

When the sky was dark, he returned from his drive to a quiet bunker. Zara and her attendants were nowhere to be seen, and as he came down the stairs, Cas walked into the war room.

“Where were you?” he asked, stopping short.

Dean shrugged. “Just out for a drive.” He held out a plastic bag. “Here.”

Frowning, Cas took it from him and pulled out two packets of seeds. “Tomato seeds?” he asked, studying them.

“Just thought, I don’t know. You’re always talking about nature and whatever. You could start a garden outside. If you want.”

Cas looked up at him, some unreadable emotion on his face. Dean almost asked if a garden was still in the works, or if Cas had started to envision the Djinn gardens. “Figure even if you don’t eat you should contribute to dinner,” he said instead. “Start growing food.”

Cas smiled and looked back at the seeds. “Thank you, Dean. That's very thoughtful of you.”

Dean felt his face heat. Looking around, he asked, “Where’s her majesty?”

“She went to bed.”

“She try to seduce you?”

Cas cocked his head. “No. Why would she?”

“Uh, maybe because she’s trying to marry you.”

“Well, I’m not marrying her. I think she understands that.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“I’ve made my intentions clear, Dean.”

“Right,” Dean said, not convinced. Cas studied him, the familiar, peculiar squint to his eyes and Dean nearly squirmed. Turning, he said, “I’m going to bed.”

He passed Sam in the hallway near the bedrooms. “Hey,” he said, not stopping.

“Dean,” Sam called, and he turned. “You alright? Where were you all day?”

“Just wanted to get away from our million visitors. I’m fine.”

“Is, um… Is everything alright with you and Cas? He was wondering where you went.”

Dean crossed his arms. “We’re fine. I mean, he brought the Djinn here, but nothing we can do about it now.”

“Right. Um. Well, it’s just…” Sam looked like he was choosing his words carefully. “You’ve been acting… Well, acting kinda weird around Zara and Cas.” Dean stared at him. “Like you’re jealous or something.”

“I’m not fucking jealous! What the hell is there to be jealous about?”

Sam raised his hands. “I’m just telling you what I see.”

“Well, you’re fucking wrong.” Sam started to speak, but Dean ignored him and turned on his heel, continued to his room. “I’m not fucking jealous,” he muttered under his breath.

I’m not jealous, he repeated to himself the next day, watching Zara and Cas talk over breakfast. Or the next, which played out the same way: too many strangers wandering the hallways, Zara taking up all of Cas’ attention. Not that Dean needed Cas’ attention; he just didn’t see how Cas could be so oblivious to Zara’s intentions.

Unless Cas wasn’t oblivious and he was actually interested in Zara.

Absurd, Dean told himself. But the idea sat heavy in his stomach anyway. I’m not jealous, he told himself again. He was starting to sound less convincing.

***

“Hey where’s Cas?”

Zara looked up from where she and Sam were poring over books in the library. Sam frowned, looking around. “I haven’t seen him yet today.”

“If you find him, tell him to join us,” Zara said, “Sam and I are going through the Men of Letters’ books on the Djinn. I’m afraid there are quite a few historical inaccuracies.”

“Right, sure.” Leaving the library, Dean headed back through the hallways, wondering where Cas could’ve gone. He hadn’t left Zara’s side much in the five days she’d been here.

Maybe he’s finally gotten annoyed with her, he thought hopefully.

When his search through the bunker proved futile, Dean had a thought and headed outside. Sure enough, a few yards from the bunker door, next to a bag of potting soil and a tray of small green containers, Cas sat cross legged on the grass holding one of the seed packets Dean had bought for him.

“Hey,” Dean said and Cas looked up at him.

“Hello.” He began placing the seeds into the containers and Dean stood there awkwardly, watching. Maybe planting the seeds was a sign; maybe this meant Cas was planning to stay. Or maybe it meant Cas was going to take his tomato plants with him to Zara’s kingdom.

When Cas remained silent, Dean started turning away to leave him to his planting. “You can fill this tray with soil,” Cas spoke up, stopping him.

“Um, okay.” Sitting down next to him, Dean scooped soil out of the bag with a shovel and poured it carefully into the planting containers. Cas smoothed soil over the seeds he'd planted.

“Zara and Sam sure are getting along well,” Dean said after a few minutes of silence. “They’re going through the books in the library right now. Apparently there’s a lot of ‘inaccuracies’ in them.”

“Hmm.” There was a smudge of dirt on Cas’ chin that Dean was more than tempted to wipe off. Looking away, he poured more dirt in the containers before he was idiotic enough to try.

The weather was warm, a breeze rustling the leafy tree branches around them. Dean wished he could relax, but being in such close proximity to Cas was making his pulse race, per usual. Maybe even more so now, considering the way he’d been feeling lately. Not jealousy, he told himself. Just, concern. Friendly concern for Cas.

Unwittingly, he thought of the way Zara looked at Cas, spoke to him, touched him, and he gripped the shovel tighter in his hand. Okay. Fine. Maybe Sam was sorta right. Maybe he was a little jealous. It didn’t mean anything though.

Realizing Cas had stopped planting seeds, he glanced sideways at him. Cas was letting soil sift through his fingers, a crease between his brows and a seriousness in his gaze that didn’t match the gentle way his fingers moved through the dirt. Dean started to wonder if Cas had come out here to get away from everyone, if something was on his mind.

“You and your plants there wanna get a room?” he asked and, fuck, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. Words were hard.

Cas glanced at him, then his recently planted seeds, and dropped the dirt he was holding. Apropos of nothing, he said, “Zara said she’ll call off the engagement if I really want.”

Dean’s initial surge of relief faded away when Cas kept glaring at the soil. Since he was pretty sure the tomato seeds hadn’t done anything to bother him, he asked, suddenly nervous, “Do you want to call it off?”

“Yes, Dean. I don’t want to marry her.” Looking away, he brushed dirt from his hands.

“But?” Dean pressed.

Cas sighed. “But she wants me to come back with her. Just for a visit. And I don’t know if I should.” He reached for a watering can at his side. “Zara and the other members of her kingdom were very welcoming when I first visited, and I’ve enjoyed taking to Zara during her stay here, but we have work to do. I can’t just leave.”

They did have work to do, but that was nothing new. Dean looked around at the start of Cas’ garden, at the slight rise of dirt a few yards away that marked the bunker underground. Maybe this was home for Cas, but it couldn’t compare to a kingdom, not how Zara described it. Begrudgingly, he thought of Cas and Zara's similar interests and her descriptions of her kingdom and how perfect it would be for Cas.

“Maybe you should visit,” he said, hating the way the words felt in his mouth. Cas frowned at him and he added, “Not saying you should marry Zara, but sounds like a cool place.” One part of his brain screamed at him to shut up shut up shut up, but the other told him this was the mature thing to do. Give Cas the freedom to make up his own mind.

Cas nodded, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know.” he said quietly. “But if you really think so...”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, feeling a little sick. Ignoring the sensation, he pat Cas on the shoulder. “Whatever you want.”

Take that, Sam. Could a jealous person do this?

***

Encouraging Cas to leave with his Djinn friends may have been the mature thing to do, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell. Going back inside, Dean holed up into his room, not wanting to hear Zara’s gleeful excitement when Cas told her he was going back with her to her kingdom. He had a feeling Zara wasn’t going to be calling off the engagement anytime soon.

He didn’t emerge until that night, when sounds of conversation and activity had diminished outside his door. One thing he had to say for the Djinn, despite the number of them staying over, the bunker had never been cleaner and they’d all obeyed his command to stay out of the garage. Begrudgingly, he had to admit it wasn’t so bad having them over. If only Zara wasn’t actively trying to impress Cas.

How many days had they been here? They’d probably be leaving soon. His stomach twisted at the thought, knowing they would take Cas with them.

Just for a visit, he told himself. He’ll be back.

He went into the library looking for a drink and found Zara and Cas poring over books side by side.

“Oh, hey,” he said, stopping in the doorway.

Cas looked up at him, a worried expression on his face. “Are you alright, Dean? You disappeared all day.”

Why does everyone keep asking me that? Going to a side table, he poured himself a drink. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“I’m sure it must be exhausting hosting so many visitors all week,” Zara said. You don’t know the half of it, Dean thought. “But don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

Dean turned, nearly spilling his whiskey. “Wait, what?”

Zara smiled at him. “We’re returning to my kingdom tomorrow.”

He thought he’d have a few more days… “Tomorrow?” he managed.

“Yes. I’m afraid I can’t stay forever, my people need me back home. And I know they will be waiting to hear news of my betrothed.” She pat Cas’ hand and Cas turned red.

“Oh. Right,” Dean managed. “Okay.”

He tried to say something else, then turned and left the room in a rush. Tomorrow. Cas was gonna leave and Dean had told him he should go.

The kitchen was empty and he sat at the table, stared at the glass in his hand.

I’m being an idiot, he thought. Cas can do whatever he wants, he doesn’t have to stay here. Probably been looking for an out for ages.

Needing to do something with his hands, he stood and grabbed ingredients from the cupboards. Without really thinking about it, he started making a pie, mixing the ingredients with more force than was necessary.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, rolling out the pie dough. Tell Cas to go to a Djinn kingdom, that’s smart. With Zara of all people? He’s gonna come back officially married to her, talking about the royal gardens. Or just not come back at all.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing open the fridge door to grab the butter.

“What’re you doing?”

Dean wheeled around to see Sam standing in the doorway. “What’s it look like?” He slammed shut the fridge door. “Making a goddamn pie.”

“At…” Sam leaned forward to see the time on the microwave. “2:14am?”

“Is it a crime to make a pie at 2am? I had a craving.”

“What are you, pregnant?”

Dean flipped him off and Sam leaned on the doorway. “Don’t see why you’re in such a bad mood. You should be glad; Zara’s leaving tomorrow. You’ve been bitching all week about the ‘invasion’.”

Pausing in draping the pie crust dough over the filling, Dean stared at him. Glad? Was no one else seeing the problem here? “What, you going with them too? Packed your bags yet? Zara seems to have put you under her spell too.”

Sam frowned. “Dean, you don’t think Cas—“

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said quickly. “He can do whatever he wants.”

“Yeah, but you got this all wrong.” Straightening from the doorway, Sam came to the island. “Cas isn’t going with the Djinn.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he isn’t! Why the hell would he?”

Oh, I don’t know, Dean thought. Maybe because Zara is fucking perfect for him and knows exactly what he wants and knows how to actually talk to him and not act like a goddamn idiot every time he’s in the room.

Furiously, he crimped the edges of the pie crust and accidentally tore a hole. “Son of a bitch!”

“Okay...” Sam said, watching him. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, but snap out of it. Cas isn’t going anywhere and maybe if you talked to him, you’d know that. Or even just stopped to think for a second.”

“Fuck off,” Dean said, and Sam threw up his hands.

“Fine,” he said, leaving the room. “But you’re freaking out over nothing.”

Dean glared at him and put his pie in the oven, sat back down. He’d done plenty of thinking and like it or not, it didn’t seem completely outside the realm of possibility that Cas would want to be with someone who understood him and appreciated him. Not that Dean didn’t understand or appreciate him, of course he did. Cas was his best friend and Cas had saved his life countless times and Cas was Cas—he was dorky and sarcastic and weird and considerate and too fucking earnest in a way that made Dean squirm while also being secretly jealous of how Cas could just say things and, and—

And fuck he wanted Cas to stay.

He didn’t know how long he stared at the table, but he startled when the timer beeped to announce his pie was done. He glanced at the oven, then looked around the empty room.

"I think I really like him," he said aloud.

Taking the pie out of the oven, Dean grabbed plates and silverware and headed to the library, hardly knowing what he was doing, just hoping to find Cas. Thankfully, Cas was still there, sitting alone.

“Made pie,” Dean announced eloquently, setting everything down.

Cas looked up and shut the book he was reading. “Oh.”

Tossing his oven mitts to the side, Dean cut a slice and wordlessly slid the plate to Cas. Cas stared at him like he had two heads. “Figured you might want to try it,” he said. “See what the molecules taste like.” In truth, he was stalling. He didn’t know what to say to Cas, how to share his recent epiphany that yes, he was jealous, and yes, he did like his best friend, and yes, he was panicking a little.

Cas looked like he had a few questions, but he took the plate. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem.” Dean’s hands were sweating as he served himself his own slice and sat down across from Cas. He had been hungry before, but now his stomach clenched in anxiety, too many words rolling around in his head with no coherency.

Cas picked up his fork and Dean figured the best way to start was with the truth.

“Don’t go,” he blurted out.

Cas paused, fork poised midair. “What?”

Dean’s face flushed, but it was either speak now or regret it forever. “I know I said you should leave with Zara, but I didn’t mean it.”

Cas slowly lowered his fork, and it seemed speaking a few words broke down a wall in Dean’s mind because the rest came flooding out.

“I know I can be a real dick,” he said, “and I know I don’t know anything about gardening or agriculture, and I know I’ve been acting weird lately, but it’s because I really don’t want Zara to take you away from us. And maybe that’s selfish on my end—no, I know it is. But she doesn’t know you, really know you! And I do. I’ve known you forever and you’re my best friend and also maybe I wish we were more.” His face heated further, and he quickly added, “It’s alright if you don’t want more, that’s fine, just forget this conversation, but the main point is that I don’t want you to leave. I mean that. Please stay.”

Cas’ gaze had turned serious during Dean’s rambling, and Dean stopped there, heart pounding, mouth dry. He hadn’t expected to say all that, but he realized he meant what he’d said. Had meant all of it for a long time now, even if he’d been pretending not to. And maybe it was too late to tell Cas now. But he’d finally said it.

“Dean,” Cas said, and Dean braced himself for the I’m sorry, but... The, you suck and I’m leaving with Zara. Or even, you want more? That’s absurd. Why the hell would we ever be more than friends?

But what Cas said, instead, was, “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

Dean stared at him. And, yeah, he guessed he had told Cas to leave. But Cas should know by now that he was an idiot who usually said the wrong things. “I didn’t mean it,” he said. “I’ll go crazy if you leave, honest. I can’t…” He thought about how empty the bunker felt when Cas left for even a day, thought about how much it killed him to see Cas with Zara, and said, almost desperately, “I can’t do that. You leaving.”

Cas’ gaze had softened and his voice was quiet when he asked, “What do you mean by more?”

Dean’s heartbeat kicked up and he stared at his plate. Fuck. What did he mean? “I don’t know. Well, maybe I do. I just…” He took a deep breath and met Cas’ eyes. “I just want to be with you. Romantically, or whatever. More than just being friends.” He held Cas’ gaze even though his heart was pounding and a tiny voice in his brain screamed, abort mission, because it felt like such a relief to get the words out, albeit awkward and stilted.

Cas studied him and Dean’s pulse hammered in his chest as he waited for inevitable rejection. Instinct told him to backtrack, but now that he’d voiced everything, it seemed like torture to have to carry it all inside him again. He didn’t know how he’d done it for years.

Then Cas spoke. “I want more too,” he said, like it was the easiest thing to say in the world.

Dean stared at him. “You do?” he managed, and Cas nodded.

“I was never going to leave, Dean. This,” he gestured around them. “This is my home. Here with you. I want to be with you too.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed. Cas never was going to leave. He started to feel a little ridiculous for his panicked pie baking, but a smile tugged at the corner of Cas’ mouth and Dean started smiling too. Cas wanted more.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?” he asked and Cas nodded. He started pushing his chair back, then Dean was standing and meeting him by his chair.

Raising his hand, he touched Cas’ cheek. He was feeling a little dizzy from the remarkable change of events in so short a time, but the look in Cas’ eyes anchored him. This is what he wanted, had been wanting.

Cas’ eyes fell shut when he leaned down to kiss him, and Dean smiled a little before pressing his lips to Cas’, finally.

His brain short circuited a little when Cas kissed him back, and it was a second before he could process the way Cas was pressing up close to him, hands gripping at his shirt. Slipping his arms around Cas’ waist, he pulled him flush, chest to chest. Cas made a small noise in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s head spun.

They kissed until Dean couldn’t catch his breath, until he felt weak at the knees. He let out a breathless laugh when they broke apart, and Cas smiled at him.

“I’ve wanted more for a long time,” he said. “I didn’t think you did too.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean kissed him again, pausing to say, “I guess I just never admitted it to myself.”

“And you realized this while making pie?” Cas asked, gesturing to the dish on the table.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted, a little sheepishly. “But better late than never, right?”

“Right,” Cas said with a smile and kissed him.

Dean kissed him back, then took his hand, tugged him to the hallway. Cas followed easily, smiling, and Dean couldn’t resist kissing him again along the way.

They eventually made it to Dean’s bedroom, but Cas paused when Dean grabbed the doorknob. “Hold on.”

Letting go of Dean’s hand, he went to the room where Zara was staying and knocked on her door.

After a few moments, she opened it in a silk nightgown. “Why, hello, Castiel,” she said smiling. “What a surprise.”

“I need you to annul our engagement,” Cas said and Zara’s smile froze. Dean bit back a grin. “Now,” Cas added.

“I—Um. I thought we would discuss this further at a later time. Perhaps allow you more time to decide—”

“I’ve decided.” Cas motioned to Dean, and Zara leaned out to see him standing there. Dean waved. “My home is here.”

Zara blinked at them and Dean stepped forward. “What he means is,” he snaked his hand around Cas’ waist, “he’s taken.”

Cas grinned at him and Zara looked mildly stricken, staring back and forth between them. Then resignation spread over her features and she smiled a little. “I see.” Waving her hand, she said, “Well, then. Consider yourself free of our engagement.”

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do to repay your hospitality. And I won’t stand in the way of true love.” She started to shut her door, then paused, looking at Dean, “And since I seem to be single once again, please tell your brother he is welcome to visit my kingdom anytime.” With a wink, she shut her door, and Dean stared at it for a moment.

“I don’t wanna unpack all that.” He looked at Cas and smiled a little. “You sure you don’t wanna marry her?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.” And, as if to prove his point, he kissed Dean again. Then he pulled back to meet Dean's eyes. "You haven't been jealous all this time, have you?"

"No," Dean said. Cas' eyes narrowed and Dean admitted, "Maybe a little." Okay, maybe a lot.

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @mixtapecas @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @queen-rowenas (tagging you bc your post about the djinn queen sparked this idea :))

#PBExchangeReunion #profoundnet #dean is a little out of touch with his feelings #dean gets jealous #first kiss #sam knows what's up #expectingtofly writes

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waywardnewcomer · 5 years

Text

Bottom of the Bottle

A/N: So idk how old you are but I’m guessing 16 bc you’re doing your GCSEs????But Happy VERY VERY VERY (like almost 5 months oops) belated birthday. Hope your exams are going well and you enjoy this fic! @platonic-plots

I’m also not caught up on the 14th season yet (oops) so I will be writing in the past.

Summary: The boys leave for a hunt on Y/N’s 16th birthday and she turns to the bottom of the bottle to cure her pain

Warnings: angst, fluff, alcohol, sadness

Pairings: Dean X Sister!Reader, Sam X Sister!Reader, Cas X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1.3kish

Masterlist

You were stirred awake by a bang outside your bedroom door. The hunter instincts in you immediately shot you awake with your gun gripped tightly under your pillow as you looked around. Sensing no immediate danger you cocked your gun and crept to the door, opening it slowly.

You crept around the living room, gun held in front of you when you saw Sam leant over a bag on the counter. You sighed and put the gun down.

“For fuck's sake Sam you scared me half to death. Why are you up at this time?” You asked confused, the tiredness suddenly setting in now the danger was gone.

“Dean and I need to set off for an urgent hunt, a job for Bobby. Should only take the day but we need you to stay here and hold down the fort. Do some research about the Nephilim for us.” He smiled at you sadly, hating to leave you alone.

“Today? Do you have to?” You asked sadly, knowing full well they had forgotten today was your birthday.

“Sorry bub, Bobby really needs our help. We should be back late tonight but don’t wait up.” Dean came in, cocking his gun and hiding it in his pants.

“If you need anything call Cas, okay?” Sam smiled before they gave you a quick hug and rushed out the door.

Yet another birthday alone. You sighed and headed back to bed. What was the point of being awake with no one to celebrate with? When you awoke for the second time you had a text from Cas saying ‘Happy Birthday.’ It was obvious he had no idea your brothers were gone.

You got yourself out of bed and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast but all that was in the fridge was beer. You shrugged and opened a bottle taking a swig. You don’t turn 16 every day. By the time you had finished the first bottle the anger had bubbled up inside of you and was threatening to pour out. The only way you knew how to deal with it was to keep on drinking.

You couldn’t believe your own brothers would go on a hunt and forget all about your sweet 16. It was like they didn’t even care to remember their sisters birthday. No birthday text or call. Just getting left alone, exactly like your Dad used to do when he’d go on hunts. The tears started rolling down your face making you realise how much your childhood had actually scarred you. You took another swig hoping to find happiness at the bottom of the bottle.

Another couple of bottles later and you could barely make out the words on your phone screen when Dean called you. You somehow pressed the answer button and brought your phone to your ear.

“Yellow,” You hiccuped.

“Y/N! How are you doing? Thought we’d give you a little sleep in before we wish you a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Dean spoke, Sam, joining him in the last part.

“Why did you leave me? Why does everyone leave me? You’re just like Dad.” You slurred down the phone concerning your brothers.

“Y/N are you okay?” Sam asked concern evident in his voice.

“Why would I be okay? I have the worst brothers in the world. You forgot about me. You don’t love me,”

“Of course we love you! Have you been drinking?” Dean asked you scared.

“Just a couple,” You giggled, tripping over the array of glass bottles on the floor.

“I’m sending Cas over Y/N, we’ll be back as soon as we can,” Sam spoke.

“Don’t bother.” You muttered and hung up, flopping back onto the couch, feeling dizzy and upset.

When Cas walked into the bunker it stank of booze and vomit. He saw a pile of vomit next to the sofa and a large array of beer bottles slewn around the kitchen and living room. He walked around wondering where you were when he heard you retching from the toilet. He shook his head and followed the sound to your ensuite.

“Oh Y/N, let’s get you to bed.” He muttered, rubbing your back and tieing your hair back from your face with a nearby bobble.

Cas carried you to your room and laid you down sideways in your bed. He left a bucket beneath your head and sat with you until you drifted off to sleep.

“Thank you for caring Cas.” You muttered in half-consciousness. “You’re the only one who does.”

When you were woken up the third time that day it was to Dean shouting your name throughout the bunker.

“Y/N what the hell were you thinking? You’re 16 for christ's sake!” He screamed as he came into your room.

“Dean be quiet.” You groaned, holding your head.

“Dean she’ll have a killer hangover,” Sam tried to reason, looking at you with guilt and sympathy.

“I don’t care, you drank the equivalent of two fridges of beers in a few hours and what because we went on a hunt?”

“You left me on my fucking birthday. Just like Dad used to do.” You shouted back seeing the hurt flash across his face.

“Bobby needed us, Y/N.” Sam tried to reason.

“Yeah and so did I! What there are no more hunters that can do his bidding? I needed you more, what part of that do you not get? I’m your fucking sister. Flesh and blood. BLOOD, DEAN, BLOOD.”

“We’re sorry Y/N, we didn’t think.” Dean tried, a guilty look on his face.

“No, you never do! Now get out of my room. I need to sleep this off.” You groaned and got up to push them out.

“Sorry Y/N, I really am.” Sam smiled sadly at you.

“Yeah me too, next time think of me, won’t ya?” You smiled sarcastically and slammed the door in their faces.

You climbed back into bed and cried in a ball until you fell back asleep, your head banging and your stomach churning. You needed to sleep this off.

For the fourth time that day you were awoken but this time to knocking on your door.

“What do you want?” You groaned, turning to face the door.

Dean opened the door holding a pizza with 16 candles in and Sam with a bowl full of popcorn and movies in his other hand. They sang happy birthday and put the food down on your bed allowing you to blow out your candles.

“We’re sorry we went on the hunt. We were stupid and didn’t think. We should’ve put you first and we’ll never do it again.” Sam explained sadly, you nodded but looked at Dean for confirmation.

“Pinky.” He promised, holding it up to you. You grabbed it and smiled.

“Okay, I guess I can forgive you if you help me get rid of this awful hangover.” You laughed taking a slice of pizza and pulling your brothers into bed.

Dean pulled you into his chest for a cuddle and kissed your forehead.

“We may have done wrong but you can’t find the answer to your problems at the bottom of a bottle. We ain’t doing that anymore in this family you hear? And you’re 16, not 21, leave off it a couple more years, yeah?”

“You can hardly talk you were drinking at 14,” Sam laughed, making you giggle.

“Hey do as I say not as I do.” He smirked, hugging you tighter.

“As long as you know we love you, no matter where we are or what we're doing. If we leave for a job that doesn’t change. You hear me?” Sam spoke, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Got it. Love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

“Now where’s my car?”

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waywardrose13 · 5 years

Text

Morrigan- Part One

Request from @thefaithfulwriter: Can I request a dean reader were the reader is very shy like stuttering and has glasses and is underestimated by everyone but really she is very powerful because she is possessed by someone like the character enchantress like off of suicide squad but they are very close to each other like they can talk to eachother and they are close bc the reader was being abused and the enchantress possessed the reader bc the reader help her escape so there very close but the guys never knew and when dean shows interest in the reader she trys to keep her distance bc she doesn't want anyone to find out about being possessed but her secret comes out when she has to save everyone like cas jack sam and dean from a group of demons or something( and if she can like transform it the enchantress like from suicide squad but has black wings with horns on top of that if possible) and she ends up saving them all but passing out bc she used to much energy and dean confronts her on his feels and she tells him how she feels about him and then they all get to meet enchantress and idk how you would want to end it I just want the reader to feel loved and appreciated even if she has a bad past and has glasses and stutters sorry if that's to much

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4981

Warnings: Angst, language, past abusive relationship, scared/triggered!Reader

A/N: Written for @badthingshappenbingo- Superpower overload & @spndeanbingo- Free space

This will be two parts. Send me an ask if you want to be tagged:)

The bunker was quiet.

It was mid December, one of my favorite parts of the year. The leaves had fallen, reds and yellows and browns mixing with the greens of the grasses, the air finally cold after the sweltering heat of the summer and the cool of the autumn. I never was a fan of the heat, even less so after Morrigan. She didn’t like the heat much, either.

I closed the door to my room softly, padding down the hallway to the kitchen. It was late, nearly three in the morning. Morrigan was a night owl, and we seemed to find our sleep schedule fluctuating with the seasons and moon cycles. We’ve slept more during the day lately, usually up until dawn most nights. Winter always kept us awake more.

Opening the fridge, I pulled out a bowl of fruit I had made previously in the day and set it on the counter before grabbing a fork.

I told you that you’d prefer the fruit.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

You should just accept the fact I’m always right. I could feel her smirking.

“Shut up,” I scoffed, a smile hinting on my lips. I felt her smile smally.

“Who are you talking to?” I jumped at the deep voice behind me, spinning around with a strawberry on my fork.

Dean Winchester stood at the entryway to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His sweatpants hung lowly on his hips, clad only in a t-shirt, which was a rare sight all on its own. He looked at me strangely, and I struggled for an answer.

“Uh… Nobody.”

Nice save.

I fought the urge to give her a bitch face.

“I thought I heard you talking,” Dean said, walking into the kitchen. He peered into my bowl, face scrunching up as he spotted the fruit. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No,” I said, popping the strawberry in my mouth. I pushed up my glasses, raising a brow at him. “So, uh… Why-why are you up?”

“I heard you walking around,” Dean said shrugging. “Thought I’d see what you were up to. Wondered what you were doing up so late- or, early, I guess.”

“I’m not tired I suppose,” I muttered, stabbing a blackberry with my fork. Morrigan had messed with my sleep schedule since she’d possessed my body. It frankly was quite annoying, the way it changed so much. Some days we’d sleep through the sun, others we would sleep like regular people. She never could make up her mind.

Dean gave me a look before leaning against the counter, his emerald eyes trained on me as I ate my fruit quietly. He reached over and grabbed a grape, eyeing it before eating it. His nose wrinkled and he gave me a side glance.

“You and Sam… I don’t understand it.” He shook his head.

I snorted, swallowing a mouthful of fruit. “Oh, I forgot to-forgot to tell you. I’m heading out tomorrow. Solo-solo hunt.”

He raised a brow. “Solo, huh? Reliving the old days? Sure you don’t want me or Sam to come with you?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I nodded, pushing up my glasses again. “I kin-kinda want some alone time, anyway. It’s just a simple salt and burn.”

Which was a total lie. Truth was, Morrigan was getting antsy. She hadn’t come to light in a while, and it began taking a bit of a toll on me and her. My moods changed too quickly, and I could feel her energy a bit too heavily a few days ago, nearly making me pass out. There was a case, a pack of werewolves actually. It would be too difficult for one person, but easy as pie for Morrigan. This way, she’d have some light and a dangerous pack would be taken out.

“Alright,” Dean sighed, pushing off the counter. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’m gonna try and catch some more shut eye.”

“Okay. Good night, Dean,” I said quietly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

***

The bed dipped slightly under her weight. Morrigan twitched inside her body, anxious to get out. Y/N sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair.

“Veni foras,” she whispered, closing her eyes and allowing her soul to the back of her body. It felt as though a rubber band had snapped inside, and suddenly Morrigan was brought to light, Y/N’s body transforming into Morrigan’s.

Morrigan stood up, walking to the mirror, flexing out her hands and rolling her shoulders. She smiled at her reflection, giddy to finally be in control again. She took off Y/N’s glasses, not needing them anymore, and set them gently down onto the shelf under the mirror.

Two small, black horns protruded from her head, rising out of raven black hair. It cascaded down like a waterfall, nearly the same color as the two wings growing from her back, a hint of deep crimson showing in the feathers as she moved them in the light. She was clad in black armour, a corset around her torso, her legs protected by gear resembling one of a knight’s. A cloak wrapped around her shoulders, trailing down between her wings. Made of crow feathers, it was jet black and gave the illusion that she was much larger than she was, appearing even more intimidating. The shoulders were flared out; small, silver, curved spikes shining in the dim light of the room as she moved. Her eyes were smothered in black, giving her a ghostly look that would make shivers run down anyone’s spine.

She turned away from the mirror, a devilish smirk on her face as she took a deep breath, transporting herself from the room to outside the farm the wolves were inhabiting. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, raising her arms and calling out to Mortem.

A caw echoed through the field, a great crow suddenly flying across the sky and in front of the moon. Morrigan held up her arm, which was armored as well, waiting. The crow swooped down, landing swiftly on her arm, cawing at her again.

“Hello again, my pet,” she said, voice like silver. Mortem shifted, flapping his wings and flying up to perch on her shoulder. He was old, almost as old as she was, soaring the planet for hundreds of years, and he always answered her call, ready to serve alongside her in battle. She raised her hand and ran her fingers lightly over his feathers, crystal blue eyes flickering over to the barn and small house. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I know you won’t, Morrigan. Enjoy the moon.

The sorceress looked up, a dark smile gracing her features as the full moon rose in the dark, spreading its light across the field and her pale face. “That I will.”

***

The wolves were taken care of rather quickly, no match against an enchantress like Morrigan. She felt much more calm and sated, the anger that had bubbled within her and transferred to Y/N over the past few weeks had dissipated. She sighed, not quite wanting to return back to her hiding place inside Y/N’s body. She never, not once, took advantage of her possession over her. After Y/N gave her the spotlight, she’d always return it, never forcing the girl into giving it over to her.

Morrigan had possessed Y/N almost two years ago.

She was trapped inside a moon stone, one that was inside Y/N’s ring she never took off. Morrigan was cursed to live inside the stone until the owner called out for help, and then, and only then, was she freed.

Y/N’s boyfriend at the time was an abusive bastard. It was rare when she didn’t have a bruise and she flinched at every little thing. Morrigan had grown close to the shy girl, watching as she wanted to fight back, but just wasn’t strong enough. Finally, Trent had taken her ring out of spite, laughing as Y/N yelled at him to give it back as he crushed in under his hammer, destroying many of her possessions.

But it freed Morrigan.

She found Y/N, explaining to her that she wasn’t strong enough to withstand a spectral life force. She promised Y/N not to harm or take advantage of their situation, telling her that she could protect her. Y/N agreed, and when Trent had returned from destroying her room, bringing the hammer up in the air, ready to strike, Morrigan made herself present, beating Trent to a pulp and scaring him enough that he never bothered Y/N again.

After that, Y/N and Morrigan grew quite close. Morrigan never had taken advantage of their companionship, enjoying the simple life with Y/N. She preferred to live in the dark, taking shelter inside Y/N’s mind, coming to light only when needed to, or when she got antsy. She and Y/N talked often, and Y/N soon found Morrigan her only true companion after Trent until she met the Winchesters.

Y/N had always been shy. She was quiet and introverted. She was surprised at how talkative she was with the brothers. Of course, she got nervous, especially around the oldest brother. She’s awkward and stutters, she wears thick rimmed, hipster glasses and keeps her hair simply down or in a ponytail most of the time. She still finds herself flinching time to time, and she can’t seem to trust people easily. It took a long time to finally open up to the Winchesters, and they still don’t know all about her past.

Morrigan sighed, transporting back into the motel room. Mortem fluttered his wings, flapping to perch on the top of the mirror. Morrigan’s eyes trained on her reflection again, another sigh escaping her lips.

You don’t have to go back so soon.

Morrigan’s lip twitched. “Yes I do,” she said. “The boys will be wondering where you are.”

It’s barely been a day. I’ll be fine.

“Are you sure?” Morrigan asked, furrowing her brows.

I’m sure.

She smiled. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Three Weeks Later

Dean dropped the duffel bag onto the motel room table, unzipping it and reaching inside. I caught the shotgun easily as he tossed it to me, and the angel blade after that.

“You know what to do when we get there?” He asked, giving me a look. His emerald eyes trained on mine, and my knees felt weak.

“Yes. I know what- I know what to do,” I said.

He nodded, looking over at Sam.

“Look, we get in, we get out. Shoot first, ask questions later. We grab Jack, and get the hell outta dodge, got it?” Dean said, looking between me, Cas, and his brother.

“Yeah, got it.” Sam’s jaw tightened and I let out a long breath.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Dean said, hoisting the bag onto his shoulder. “Let’s do this.”

***

If you need backup-

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered. I surveyed the area around me, taking in the cracked walls of the old warehouse and broken shelves. “Besides, it’s not the greatest idea to spring the idea that you’re possessing me on Sam and Dean like this.”

I wouldn’t call it possessing per se.

I snorted.

Maybe… kindly inhabiting.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause that’s better.” I rolled my eyes.

Sounds better than “possessing.”

“Whatever.” I turned the corner, squinting my eyes into the darkness.

The four of us had split up, against Sam’s better judgement. The demons who had taken Jack ran in a tight circle, and there was a lot of them. I hadn’t run into any yet, but I had the inkling that they all were guarding Jack. There was no doubt that they knew we were here.

Pushing open a door, I stopped dead in my tracks as my eyes adjusted to the scene.

Sam, Dean and Cas were all being held by two demons each, beaten and bloody. The number of demons inside the room was astounding, and there had to be at least twenty-five. Jack sat in a chair in the center of the room, chained and unconscious. I swallowed thickly, holding up the angel blade.

“There she is!” A demon said. He stepped forward, smiling. “We were wondering what was taking so long.”

“She was talking to herself,” a voice said behind me. I whipped around, coming face to face with another one. He looked up at the brothers. “You know she was this crazy?”

I jerked the blade up, plunging it into his rib cage, puncturing the heart. Sparks burned from his eyes and mouth, and he collapsed to the ground. Turning around, I raised a brow.

“My, oh my,” the first demon said.

“Y/N,” Dean said. My eyes flickered to him. “Run. Get out of here.”

My eyes lingered on him for a moment, and I felt a torn expression flash over my face. I didn’t stand a chance against these demons. But I couldn’t leave Dean. I gave him a defiant look before moving my eyes back to the demon.

“Oh,” he said smiling. “You’ve got a thing for the older Winchester… don’t you?”

I took a step forward.

Y/N. Stop it.

My eyes flickered over to Dean again. He was giving me a pained look.

“You do… don’t you? This is too good,” the demon said, chuckling darkly. “Kill him.”

My eyes widened as a demon moved in front of Dean, Sam’s knife in hand. He reared it back, readying to plunge it into Dean’s abdomen.

Y/N, don’t!

“No!” I screamed, running forward. Panicking, I yelled the first thing I could think of, the thing I absolutely didn’t want to do. “Veni foras!”

And suddenly, I was put to the back burner. Morrigan shifted into gear quickly, her mace forming in her hand. She swung it, taking the demon’s head clean off. Orange flickered in its body, and it was then that I realized how much I’d underestimated Morrigan and her weapons.

I could feel her anger. She was pissed for putting us into danger like that. If I hadn’t said those words, we both would have been goners. She knew the extent of what I’d do for Dean, and it scared the shit out of her. I’ve jumped in front of him numerous times, Morrigan scolding me after each one.

But I realized that I may not have a place by the Winchesters’ sides after this. I kept Morrigan a secret for nearly a year and half. I remember Dean telling me how angry Sam was after he found out about Gadreel. And I wasn’t even related to them.

The brothers’ and Castiel’s faces were set in stone shocked. They watched as Morrigan made her way around the room, fighting off each demon easily. Some with her mace, others with the red magic that shot from her fingers. But I could feel the energy waning. She, of course, would be fine. But her possession itself took a toll on my body physically. The magic being shot from her fingers fed from both of us. It came naturally to her, but it was taken directly from my energy source. Something sharp lodged itself in her right wing, tearing through the feathers and muscle. She let out a yelp, which I reciprocated inside our minds, eyes burning red as she hissed.

***

“Mortem!” Morrigan called, and she swung the mace around, spinning towards the demon who threw the knife, her blade soaring through the air and slicing through the demon’s jugular.

A raven soared through a broken skylight, a caw bouncing off the crumbling walls. The men looked up at it, puzzled expressions crossing their features. Mortem joined Morrigan by her side, eyes burning a matching red as he swooped down, using his beak to peck at the demon’s eyes and slice at their throats with his talons.

“Who are you?” The first demon asked, platinum blond hair shining in the moon rays streaming through the skylight. Morrigan smirked, tilting her head.

“Valkin,” she said, buttery voice making the men’s eyes widen a bit. She took a few steps forward, but it seemed more like a float. Her graceful walk was captivating, the way she moved the definition of utter perfection. She was absolutely dazzling, but also extremely intimidating Dean noted, and none of the men seemed to be able to take their eyes off her. Both in fear and curiosity.

She looked like Y/N. Of course she did, it was her body. But the wings and the horns and the slight differences like eye color and attire made it clear that she wasn’t anything remotely human, and it startled Dean to think about what they’d have to do after this.

“What a pleasure,” Morrigan said, bowing mockingly. She kept her crystal eyes on Valkin the entire time, a sultry smirk on her face. A smirk that none of the men had ever seen occupy Y/N’s face.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Valkin said. “Not here.”

“Hm.” Morrigan began walking in a large circle around the demon. Inquisitiveness filled Dean. Valkin seemed… scared. He visibly shook, and his jaw was set tight. However, he made no move to escape.

“So, you killed the rest of them. Get it over with,” Valkin said. He stood straight, letting out a breath.

Morrigan laughed, a bell like laugh that had a dark undertone to it. “What a coward you are.” She stopped circling when she was in front of him again. “Won’t even try to fight back.”

A scream erupted from the demon as his head was thrown back, black smoke shooting from his mouth. Morrigan’s face changed to one of fury, and she raised her fist, the red magic swirling around it. The smoke stopped, before spiraling down to her fist. She opened her hand, laying it palm up. The smoke lingered over her hand for a moment, before the red magic shot up at it, the smoke dispersing in a shock of orange.

But when she was done, Dean charged.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, watching as he raised his blade high in the air, ready to strike, and Morrigan didn’t even flinch.

“Hurt me, it hurts her,” she said. His eyes widened again at how different the voice was. He took a step back, not lowering the blade.

“Who are you?”

“I’m not sure that concerns you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She winced as her wing moved, blood dripping from the wound.

“What… are you?” Castiel asked, taking a few steps forward.

“That’s none of your concern either,” she said. “Now, if you do anything to harm Y/N… it will be the last thing you do. Understand?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Dean snarled. Morrigan’s eyes locked with his, flashing red. He cringed.

“The one who won’t hesitate to end you if you touch her,” she hissed. “Just ask Trent Rider.”

“Her ex boyfriend?” Sam asked.

Morrigan smirked. “Let’s just say he won’t be around to tell the tale.” She licked her lips, pearly teeth gleaming.

Sam swallowed thickly.

In the blink of an eye, Morrigan began to transform. Dean took a step back, watching as her body morphed back into Y/N’s.

***

I blinked a few times, my vision blurring around the edges. My shoulder stung from where the blade cut through her wing, and I felt myself sway.

“Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my hand pressing against my temple.

“What the fuck?” He growled, charging towards me. His hand gripped my arm, and I flinched, suddenly reeling back into my Trent days. He jerked his hand back, and his eyes widened as mine rolled back into my head.

***

Y/N…

I groaned, shifting on the bed, moaning in pain as my shoulder flared.

Y/N… You have to wake up.

My eyes blinked open, the edges fuzzy. My body felt heavy and drained, the energy Morrigan took from me making me weak. I tried to push myself up, but my hand was stopped, a metal clinking sound making me flinch.

Y/N, please stay calm. Everything will be okay…

My heart leapt to my throat as old memories resurfaced. It’s like I could feel him again; the pain. The metal dug into my wrist and I pulled on it, whimpering as I realized both hands were bound and there was no way out. I leaned back on the pillows behind me, slightly elevated but not enough to be sitting up completely.

“Morrigan?” I asked, panic evident in my voice. Tears welled in my eyes as I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“So that’s her name?” A deep voice said beside me. I gasped, head snapping to the sound. Dean stood from his chair, angel blade in hand as he moved to tower over me. I found myself shrinking, Dean’s stance and all-too-familiar anger bringing me back to Trent’s rage induced assaults.

“Dean, please. I can-I can explain but you gotta-gotta let me out of these cuffs. I be-eg you,” I pleaded, blinking a few times as I realized I didn’t have my glasses. As he bent down, his face got blurrier and it made me even more anxious.

“Why the hell should I do that?” He hissed. There was just anger in his voice; no sympathy or understanding. Pure rage radiated off the man I love, and I could hear my heart breaking.

“Because you know me,” I whispered. “You know what kind of person I am. You know that I’m not a- not a monster.”

“No, but she is,” he said.

“No, she’s not,” I said, suddenly furious.

Y/N, let me out. I can help.

“Quiet, Morrigan,” I muttered as quiet as I can. But Dean still heard.

“You can talk to her?” He asked. I didn’t answer him.

No, he’s going to hurt you. Let me out before he does or else I’ll be forced to hurt him.

“No, Morrigan!” I insisted, turning my head away from Dean.

“Hey! Answer me!” He said, gripping my chin tightly. I yelped and flinched, Trent’s face flashing through my mind as he held onto me. He didn’t let go, though, not like before. He gripped me tighter, ignoring my tears.

That’s it. Now, Y/N.

I knew she was right. He wouldn’t relent. Letting out a shaky breath, I let her out. “Veni foras.”

I was snapped to the back of my mind, and a furious snarl found its way onto my face as Morrigan took over.

***

Dean jumped back as Y/N’s body morphed, and suddenly she was gone. Morrigan appeared on the other side of the room, her cape was missing, and her wings were spread wider than before, the feathers ruffling.

“I warned you, Winchester,” she said. “I told you not to touch her.”

“Yeah, well-” he shrugged- “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Foolish human,” she spit. “You’re all the damn same. I should have known you would be the same, too. She said you were different. That you wouldn’t treat her like Trent did. I warned her. I told her, I could see the darkness in you. But she still saw the light. Thought you were good.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Dean hissed.

“Don’t I?” Morrigan smirked. “Dean Winchester. Thirty-eight. Aquarius. Has a secret anime addiction, and likes the feel of women’s underwear.” She laughed at his red cheeks. “Shall we get into the darker stuff?” She moved a few feet towards him. “You think about hell sometimes. What you did there. You feel guilt, sure. But you also remember the euphoria that cutting into those souls brought. You remember the high you had from watching them scream in agony, agony you inflicted. You look at people sometimes, and wonder what it would feel like to break them.” She smirked again. “You look at Y/N sometimes. More than others do. You find her fascinating, but now you wonder how it would feel to break her, too.”

Morrigan felt Y/N shudder, her heart shattering at that.

Morrigan, please.

“Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“No,” the hunter said. “It’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Morrigan barked. “You’ll hurt her.”

Dean swallowed, looking down for a moment. He raised his hand in the blink of an eye, sending the angel blade towards her. Morrigan held up her hand, the tip of the blade barely grazing the tip of her nose. Morrigan set her jaw, sighing.

Suddenly Y/N was back, eyes blinking back tears as Dean’s face dropped, guilt flashing across it.

***

“That won’t kill her,” I said quietly. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I resisted the urge to wipe them away, standing stone still. “It will just kill me.”

Dean lowered the blade slowly, swallowing thickly. His eyes pierced into mine, and I kept my neck slightly craned to look at him.

“Why?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you tell us? Why the hell did you keep this… this a secret? Why the hell did you let her possess you in the first place?”

I sighed, blinking a few times. I squinted my eyes at him, desperately wanting to see his face clearly.

“Trent was going to kill me,” I murmured. “Morrigan was trapped inside a moonstone ring of mine. Trent smashed it and she was freed. She came to me and told me she could p-protect me. She told me that she wasn’t strong enough to be on her own yet. She p-promised me she wouldn’t take advantage, and so I agreed. I was going to die if I said no, and I figured there was a chance she was lying but, what if she wasn’t? She saved my life, and she’s saved it numerous of times. She never has taken advantage of our situation and she’s become the closest thing to family I’ve had in years. And then you all come along and I… I didn’t know how to tell you because I knew you’d kill me- us. Or, at least try to.”

“So, you’re just completely fine with having some sort of… being inside you? Can she see everything?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. “And she doesn’t have to s-see everything. There’s a way I can push her out. It takes concentration but, it can be done.”

Dean let out a breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, hell. I don’t know what to do here.”

“Look, I’m still Y/N. You just know about M-Morrigan.” I shrugged. “Nothing has to change.”

“It already has!” Dean exclaimed. “You’re being possessed by something!”

“And I’m okay with it,” I said. “Morrigan is my fa-family. And I won’t let you do anything to her.”

“Dean, maybe she’s right,” Sam piped in. Dean whipped around to face his brother. “Y/N has always been Y/N. And Morrigan is here to protect her. She has never done anything to us.”

Yet.

I shook my head. Cas squinted his eyes at me in confusion.

“Morrigan is an ancient being. There’s nothing you can do to her that would hurt her. It would just hurt me. And she’s not going anywhere,” I said, standing a little bit straighter. “So-so deal with it.”

I saw Sam smirk a bit, and Dean’s face was simply confused.

“You know what, fuck this. I get you’re still Y/N, and I know that you’re no different now that we know, but I can’t deal with this. When we get to the bunker…” He trailed off, looking down at his feet for a moment. “You need to go.”

“What?” I breathed, panic bubbling in my chest.

“You have to go.”

“Where? I have nowhere to go.”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I just can’t deal with this. You lied to us for a year and a half. You have some ancient witch inside you and we have no idea if she will blow up on us or not. And you can’t be trusted anymore.”

“Dean, p-please I-”

“Stop, okay?” Dean said, holding a hand up. “Just stop.”

He turned away from me then, head still down. “We’ve all packed up. I suggest you do, too. There should be a car out front for you, but we’re heading back.”

“Without me?” I choked, biting my lip to hold back anymore tears.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. He motioned something towards Sam, Cas and Jack, and they followed him out of the room. Sam sent me one last glance before following his brother, and Jack gave me a quick hug.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Everything will be okay,” he said. “He’ll calm down.”

“I don’t think so, Jack,” I said. “But… thanks.”

He nodded, giving me a smile, before following the guys outside, closing the door softly behind him.

I waited until I heard the engine rumble and fade before I collapsed on the bed, sobs racking my body. I never thought I’d have to see the look of betrayal and hate on Dean’s face pointed towards me. I loved him, more than I ever thought possible, and he couldn’t stand to be around me. He felt it necessary to kick me out of the bunker, a place that I finally felt safe and wanted. Tears stained my cheeks as I curled up on the worn comforter, the name quite ironic at this point in time, because I felt no comfort at all.

I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Somewhere, deep in my mind, I could feel Morrigan, a soothing presence trying to wash over me. I knew she was trying to help me, but I couldn’t be bothered with it right now. I pushed her away, trying my best to block her out. I couldn’t deal with her right now, not while I was trying to deal with the ultimate shattering of my heart.

Part Two

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goodfemalecharacters · 6 years

Text

13x06 Coda: The One With the Couch

Claire is just as disgusted as I am about the bunker’s recliners. 1k rectifying that, partially based on @elizabethrobertajones‘s ongoing fight for a bunker couch.

“You met who now?”

Jody shifts her weight back and forth as she switches the phone to her left hand so she can better dry the dish Alex hands her with her right. Claire looks up from the cookie sheet she’s currently drying, a question in her eyes. Jody holds up a finger and nods at the telephone.

“You’ve got to be pulling my leg. You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Alex stops washing her dish, and Claire keeps drying the same portion of the cookie sheet over and over again. It’s not Jody’s oh no face, so it doesn’t look like anybody they know is dead.

“Sounds like a story that would be better told in person. Do you want to—no, yeah, I think the girls would be okay with that.” She lowers the phone from her ear for a moment. “Alex. You’re not working this Friday, are you?”

Alex shakes her head.

“Yeah, we should be good.”

“You never asked me if I was busy!” Claire protests.

Alex shoots her a smirk over Jody’s shoulder, which she ignores. Instead, she drops the cookie sheet on Jody’s island and resorts to crossing her arms. Jody doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well, it was good to hear from you, Dean. See you Friday.”

Claire considers inventing something going on in her life on Friday just to prove Jody wrong about her lack of a social life and/or job, but in the end, she winds up sitting shotgun in the truck anyway (after nearly breaking Alex’s arm in a thumb war to see who could sit there).

“They live in a what?” Patience demands, setting down the AP Calculus BC prep book down between her and Alex.

Despite the fact that she’s probably not going to get the college education she’d been gunning for all these years, she still insisted on studying for the test in a few weeks. Claire thought she was crazy. Jody just kept buying her prep books.

“Underground bunker,” Alex says, smiling.

She’d been far more—well, patient—with Patience than Claire had been able to be so far when it came to explaining the things Claire now saw as commonplace.

“Um. Why?”

Jody shrugs. “It’s fortified. And both of them are dead, legally speaking, so buying a house isn’t exactly an option.”

To her credit, Patience nods and goes back to her integrals. Alex leans over so the two can continue their miniature lesson. Claire at least waits to turn around before she rolls her eyes. Alex loves pretending they’re normal.

“Here we are,” Jody says after a few more minutes of driving.

“That looks super sketchy,” Patience says, but she gets out of the car anyway.

Jody goes to knock on the door, leaving Claire to grab the angel food cake that Jody had made before they left. By the time she catches up, the three men are standing in the doorway, welcoming them in.

“Donna beat you by a half hour,” Dean says, standing aside so the women can get in.

Claire sizes Castiel up. They’ve been texting on and off for a couple years now, but it’s been a while since she’s seen him in person. He looks pretty much the same—is that a new trench coat?–but then, she’s not sure what she expected.

“You look older,” Castiel notes.

Claire shoots him a grin. “You too, old man.”

To her surprise, Patience chooses to cling to her side rather than Alex’s as they make their way downstairs. Donna is sitting at the table, but she gets up when they all show up.

“We met Scooby Doo,” Dean says, and launches into a recounting of their adventure in TV land.

Their second, if Sam’s disgruntled chiming in is to believed. Which, okay. Claire has been in this hunting business since she was in pigtails, but even she has to admit that it’s pretty weird to hear that particular story.

Eventually, they make their way into the kitchen, where Dean already has dinner laid out. Sam takes an interest in Patience’s calculus and Jody and Donna dive into an animated conversation with Dean about the finer points of the Scooby case. That leaves Cas and Claire sitting awkwardly across from each other. Claire takes to scrolling through her phone.

“Hey, Cas. D’you mind getting the movie queued up?” Dean asks, bumping Castiel’s shoulder.

He shakes his head. “Of course not. Claire?”

She follows Cas into the last room she would have ever expected to see in the bunker.

“Oh, seriously? What is this, Friends?” Claire crosses her arms as she walks into the room. “What does he want us to do, set up folding chairs?”

Cas steps sideways, but not quickly enough to hide the handful of folding chairs leaning against the wall. Claire pinches her nose.

“Okay, no. If he wants to have a family dinner, he needs a family space. Do you still have that ugly truck?”

He looks as if he wants to defend it, but quickly decides to hold his tongue. Instead, both he and Claire make their way out to the garage.

“I don’t see what you’re—”

“We’re getting Dean a gift. Shut up and drive.”

Honestly. What sort of macho bullshit would lead a man planning to have a movie night in his brand new—had Cas called it the ‘Dean Cave?’ Really?—TV room to buy two freaking recliners instead of a couch?

“So. Syria?”

She’d spent about an hour stressing out about that particular text until Jody had caught wind of her worry and reassured her that, of all people, an angel would probably be fine there.

Castiel nods. “It’s a beautiful place. The little of it that is still standing, anyway. And beautiful people, too.”

Claire can’t help a small smile. Of course Castiel would be the one to notice those sorts of things. It was part of what allowed her to like him—hell, maybe even love him a little, and wouldn’t Jody be proud to know she was admitting something like that?—even when he had her father’s face.

“Here we are,” Castiel says dubiously as they pull up outside the furniture store.

Despite the fact that it’s 6:56 and the places closes at seven, Claire barges inside, Castiel on her heels. The spotty teen standing near the door looks as if he wants to hit them both over the head with lamp dressing the fake living room next to them.

“How fast can you move a couch, buddy?” Claire asks.

They make a decision incredibly quickly. Claire has been on enough shopping trips with Alex to know that she has to keep her eyes on the prize and drag Cas away from the other options.

“I think that would look good,” Castiel says of a plaid couch.

“They’ve gotten into your brain.”

Eventually, they settle on a plain black leather couch. Claire hands over the credit card that Jody gave her for emergencies and together with the teenager, they drag the couch out to the truck and make their way back.

Claire shoots Alex and—okay, fine—Patience a text, so they meet them in the garage. It only takes them about ten minutes to maneuver it in several pieces into the ‘Dean Cave.’ By the time Dean and the rest of the group enter the room, they have it set up.

“Huh,” Dean says, looking the room over.

Without another word, he flops down on the couch.

They all fit perfectly. Claire grabs the remote and turns on the TV. Mission accomplished.

(ao3)

#spn #spn spoilers #spn s13 #spn fic #claire novak #castiel

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peachwizard · 7 years

Text

You’re Not Dad

A/N: Not that anyone cares I’ve been hella busy and haven’t had time to literally write anything and I still really don’t, but I’m going to anyways bc I have some inspiration. Enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated(:

Characters: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, overprotective Dean, mention of death, yelling, very close relationship b/w Dean and reader? let me know if I missed anything

Tagging: @winchesters-favorite-girl because I think she might be interested and I really love and look up to her as a writer. I hope you don’t mind.

You loved your brothers more than anything in the world. I mean, you were practically raised by them. John was never around, your mom was just some quick fuck that John had on a hunt. As soon as demons got word that John Winchester knocked up some chick and he had another child, they came and killed your mother when you were only a few months old. Thankfully, your mom got John on the phone as they were trying to get in and he was in town so he saved you. Not your mom though. Dean had been 16 at the time, Sam was 12. You were by far the baby of the family and Sam and Dean made it their mission to protect you from everything. And when I say everything, I mean literally everything. You were never even supposed to have been born. But nevertheless, here you were seventeen years later, alive and kicking, living in the bunker with Sam and Dean, the two best brothers in the entire world.

“Y/N/N!” Dean shouted, “Sammy and I are headed out on another hunt! We should be back in three days!”

As soon as you heard the word hunt you came sprinting down the hallway from your room with your bag packed and in hand. When you stopped in front of Dean you had a bright smile on your face, but he just gave you a questioning look. “What are you doing?” he asked, but he already knew.

“I am all packed and ready to go!”

“No... you aren’t. Because you aren’t coming.”

“Awwww come on Dean! Please! I have been training so hard! I run with Sam every morning! I think it’s about time for me to go on my first hunt!”

His face got very hard, “Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. Go back to your room, I’m gonna lock the door, then I’ll call Cas and have him let you out in an hour.”

“What?! No! Dean! Please! I’m ready! Plus every time Cas babysits he makes me watch the same bee documentary over and over again!”

You both had a silent stare down, and after what felt like an eternity, you both yelled out for Sam. “SAM!!!!”

He came running in, frantic, like someone was in danger, “What? What’s wrong? Y/N? Are you okay?” He immediately started looking over you like you had some hidden injury he couldn’t see.

You pushed him off, “I’m fine, Sammy. Dean just won’t let me go on this hunt.”

Sam looked over at Dean with a questioning look, and then his expression changed like he was agreeing with you. Dean quickly spoke up against this, “No. No, no, no, no, no. Sam I called you in here to help me, not to allow my baby sister on this hunt. Besides, she has school! You care about her education!”

“I’m on spring break dumbass!”

Sam intervened before you both started going at it again, “Dean, don’t you think it’s about time we let her come? We had been hunting way before her anyways. If we keep telling her no, there is going to be backlash, and she might just go out on her own without us, without any back up. At least this way we know she is safe with us.”

You squealed and hugged Sam. “Thank you thank you thank you! I’ll go help pack the car!” You took off towards the garage with your bag, but once you got to the door you turned around, ran back to grab both Sam and Dean’s bags, too, and took off again.

Once the boys where sure you were gone, Dean looked at Sam like he was imagining his murder. “How the hell could you do this? What if something happens to her? Are you insane? Do you even care about her?”

Sam rolled his eyes and gave Dean his infamous bitch face, “Dean, it’s just a small vamp nest. She will be fine. She knows what she is doing.”

Dean took a step closer to Sam and narrowed his eyes, “If something happens to her because of this I will kill you.” Dean turned and walked away while Sam stood there in shock for an extra moment. If you ended up with any injuries, Sam was sure Dean was actually going to kill him.

After the hunt, which turned out to be a giant vamp nest instead of what the boys originally thought was a small one, you all returned to the motel. The hunt was successful in your eyes, all the vamps were dead, but to Dean this hunt was one of the biggest failures of his life. The atmosphere was tense, and you were terrified. Once the impala stopped, you hauled ass into the motel room to try to get in the shower to avoid Dean, but it didn’t work. He came storming through the door, grabbed your arm, and sat you on the edge of bed. Sam came in after, quietly closed the door and sat at the small table, watching what was about to happen only to make sure Dean didn’t take things too far.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor as Dean paced back and forth in front of you for a good five minutes before he stopped and spoke in a deadly calm voice, “Look at me.” You refused to meet his eyes and could feel tears building up in the back of yours. His voice suddenly became giant and booming like thunder, “I said LOOK AT ME Y/N Y/M/N WINCHESTER.”

You reluctantly looked up at him, and oh god, you wish you wouldn’t have, his entire body was fuming, you thought he was going to explode from rage. His voice returned to the deadly calm it was before, “What the hell were you thinking?” You refused to answer, so he spoke again, “Let me try this only one more time. What. The. Fuck. Were. You. Thinking.”

Sam decided to cut in, “Dean -”

“Shut up, Sam! You aren’t involved in this.” Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue.

“Y/N.” Dean repeated, he looked at you expectantly.

You gulped and started to speak softly, fighting back tears, “I..I..I was think-thinking.... that... that,” you quickly reached up to wipe at your eye to prevent the tear that was about to escape from falling, “I was thinking that.... that... you were about to die.... so.. I... I.... I.... was gonna save you....”

You had a nasty gash on the side of your arm, but that would have been Dean’s chest if you hadn’t jumped in front of him to stop that vamp.

Dean laughed a laugh you hadn’t ever heard before, and you were terrified. “You thought that you dying was a better option than me dying?” He laughed again.

“Yes.”

“Yes sir.” He snapped back at you.

That brought the tears you had been so vigorously fighting, you let out an awful sob. You started to violently shake your head. “No,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry, what was that Y/N?”

You kept crying and shaking your head ignoring Dean.

“Y/N!” He shouted in his loud booming voice that sounded so much like your dad that it made you flinch, “You speak when you are spoken to. Do you understand me?”

You kept shaking your head, and then said in a quiet voice, “No... You’re not dad.... You’re not dad.... You’re not my dad.” You said it like you were trying to convince yourself.

Dean laughed that menacing laugh again, “The hell I’m not,” he started to raise his voice as he spoke, “What really is a dad Y/N? What does that word mean? Who raised you? Who made sure you were always fed? Who took care of you when you were sick? Who took you and picked you up from school? Who taught you right from wrong? Who taught you-”

“ENOUGH!” Sam hollered. “Dean, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re her older brother. Not her dad, not our dad. Dean. You’re not dad.” Dean looked like he wanted to respond, but Sam gave him a soft look and glanced over to where you were violently sobbing making Dean really look at you, “You don’t want to be dad.”

Dean’s face softened a little as he looked at you. Sam approached you and he touched your shoulder softly. You flinched away, but as soon as you looked up and saw it was Sam you threw yourself into his arms and started crying harder if that was even possible. He held you tight and started stroking your hair, “It’s okay, Y/N/N. You’re okay. I’m here.” You stayed like that for who knows how long before Sam suggested you go take a shower, so you did just that.

Once you were gone, Sam and Dean sat down at the table. Dean was nursing a beer and Sam was glaring at him. “What the hell is wrong with you Dean?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Sammy.”

Sam gave shot Dean his bitch face, “Get the fuck over yourself, Dean. What the hell was that? Yelling at her like that? You know how hard dad always was on her, and then to compare yourself to him? What the fuck man?”

Dean just kept his stare on the table, so Sam continued, “You know how she looks at you, Dean. You know you are her hero. Her entire goddamn world. The man who is always going to be there to love her and protect her and take care of her. You know she thinks of you as her dad. Her real dad. God knows our real dad was never there for her except to scream at her, and then to rub it in her face like that? To make her feel shit about it? To compare the man she sees as her father with her actual one? You seriously fucked up. And I don’t know how you are going to get out of this one.”

Dean still kept looking at that same spot on the table and Sam knew he wasn’t going to respond. When they heard the shower turn off Sam got up and grabbed the keys. “I’m going out to get dinner. This better be fixed by the time I get back.”

You stood in the bathroom for an extra five minutes, dreading going back out into the room with Dean. You heard Sam’s footsteps go out the door followed by the impala’s engine, so you knew that you two were alone. And you were terrified. You finally gathered up the courage and walked out of the bathroom, putting your dirty clothes into your duffel. Dean was still sitting at the kitchen table with the same beer in his hand, left untouched since Sam started talking to him.

“Hey princess,” Dean softly spoke up once he heard you finish shuffling around in your bag, “Would you come sit here for a second? Talk to me? ...... Only if you want to.. of course.”

You debated for a second before slowly walking over and pulling out the chair across from him and sat down. You already felt tears coming on again, why were you so weak? Dea- dad. Dad. Dad. Dad would be pissed at you right now for crying. Not Dean. Dean says it’s okay to cry. Dean says it’s okay to express how you are feeling. The problem was you didn’t know who was across from you at that moment.

Dean looked at you and saw you were avoiding his eyes, “Could you look at me? Please baby?”

You reluctantly looked up at him, and knew he could tell you were on the verge of crying, you could tell he was too. No one else would be able to tell though, except for maybe Sam. He gave you a soft smile, you both were looking right into each others’ eyes, “Hey baby....” he started, but you immediately started sobbing. He rushed to push his chair out and open his arms, and as soon as he was free from under the table you got up and ran to sit in his lap and cuddle with him, just like when you were little. He quietly shushed you. He started rocking you and stroking your back, “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay. I’m right here baby girl. I’m right here. I’m so sorry for yelling at you like that, baby. I’m so so so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

He kept on going on and on, and you could tell that he was crying now too. You looked up from where you had your face buried in his neck and wiped his eyes. He grabbed your hands and kissed them. “I’m okay sweetheart, don’t worry about me.”

You gave him a sad smile, “I always worry about you, De.” You stared crying hard again, “I’m sorry for putting myself in danger, De. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t exist. I saw he was- he was about to kill you and I just reacted. I can’t live without you De. I can’t.” You were crying so hard, Dean was trying to wipe your tears, but to no avail.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay Y/N/N. I’m right here. Okay? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, you’re not going anywhere, Sammy’s not going anywhere, okay?”

You nodded and put your face back in his neck, looking at where both of your hand were still held in his giant one. Once you both calmed down, he spoke again, “I’m sorry for acting like dad. He was a sorry excuse for a father and I acted just like him. I know how scared of him you were and I did it anyways. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I know you were scared. I would have gotten mad at you too.”

“Yeah, but there was no reason for me to act like dad. No excuses baby.”

“Okay... but I still forgive you.”

Dean stood up and carried you with him to the bed you were sharing. You immediately snuggled up against him. “You know, for the record Dean, you are my dad.” He looked at you questioningly. “In every way that possibly counts, you’re my dad, Dean. And I love you.”

Dean gave you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen from him, at least since dad disappeared and all this shit started. “I love you too, baby girl. I want you to always know that. No matter what, I always love you.”

A little while later Sam came through the door with bags of fast food. What he saw brought a smile to his face, you and Dean cuddled up asleep in bed. He knew that you and Dean had a special bond. He knew that you and him had always been really close, and had gotten even closer when Sam left for Stanford. He was unbelievably happy that you both worked it out, and hoped that you finally told Dean how you really looked at him, even if everyone already knew it, Sam knew Dean needed to hear it.

Sam decided that the food could be heated up. He decided he would shower and then go to sleep in the other bed beside you and Dean. He gave you both one last look, happy to see his favorite people in the world at peace and lightly smiling as they slept.

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bbcky-barnes · 7 years

Text

Destiel Fanfics RecList

(Reminder that these are not in any specific order!!)

1. Painted Angels

Words: 105K

Summary: Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

2. Easy Now, With My Heart

Words: 50K

Summary: Dean Winchester is a kindergarten teacher. Castiel Milton is a writer slash works-in-a-coffee-shop. He also happens to be the extremely hot one-night stand that Dean never intended to see again other than in his own fantasies (he’s classy like that). But suddenly Cas is everywhere and Dean is convinced that Fate is out to get him. And maybe they do this thing backwards, but that doesn’t have to mean they can’t make it in the end, right?

3. Sweaters & Cigarettes

Words: 150K

Summary: Dean Winchester is in high school, crushing hard on Castiel Novak, the unbelievably hot goth who Dean does his very best to convince himself he hates, despite the fact that he can’t really stop staring at him. Dean tries, but when the two of them finally cross paths, their first conversation takes a surprising turn. And suddenly, they both find themselves falling harder and faster than they ever could have expected.

4. Freefall

Words: 129K

Summary: Kindergarten teacher Dean Winchester spends his days elbow deep in play doh; the most exciting his life gets is when he plays mechanic in his uncle Bobby's shop on the weekends. That is until a birthday party goes tequila-nova and he trips into a one-night stand with an incredibly hot firefighter named Castiel.Dean's life gets a lot more exciting after that.

5. California Waiting

Words: 173K

Summary: Dean and Castiel's relationship has evolved over time- from strangers to roommates, roommates to friends, friends to best friends. The most troublesome evolution came to pass when they went from being best friends to "We're just friends."

6. Appoggiatura

Words: 121K

Summary: Castiel leaves the religious commune of Heaven Farms to study classical piano after winning a full scholarship paid for by the Deanna Campbell Memorial Foundation, and answers an ad in the campus newspaper: 1 bedroom to let. Meals provided. 50mb wifi, quiet odd music student preferred.

7. Heaven & Hell Escort Service

Words: 124K

Summary: Loosely based on the film 'The Wedding Date'. Castiel Novak is a high class escort, and an expensive one at that. He likes to help people, and being an escort allows him to do that... barely. Dean Winchester is a mechanic/waiter who may have accidentally told his father he has a long-term boyfriend to bring along to Sam's wedding. Desperate times call for desperate measures... an escort service might not be what he wants, but it could be exactly what he needs.

8. Cursed or Not

Words: 115K

Summary: While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it.When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal. Instead of assuming all witches are bad, Dean can spend a season getting to know him. If at the end of the season, Dean still thinks he's evil Castiel will send him away with his memory wiped of the whole experience. But if he learns that Castiel is not the monster Dean assumes he is, he'll lift Dean's curse.It's an offer Dean can't bring himself to pass up.

9. Satin and Sawdust

Words: 160K

Summary: When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head.Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend.But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

10. Muscle Memory

Words: 20K

Summary: Dear Castiel, Hello – it’s Castiel. This must all seem very confusing, and I’m sorry for that. Dean says to tell you that this isn’t some kind of ‘time-travel stunt’, although I’m sure that won’t be your first thought. I know it wasn’t mine. I’ve told Dean to leave now, as this is my notebook and I want everything in it to come from me – or rather, from you. I know you think it's the fifteenth of January, 2010, but it isn't. At the time of my writing this, the date is the fourth of October, 2013. Dean Winchester is your boyfriend of a year and a half, and you no longer work at the library, and in early 2010 you were hit by a car and hospitalised. I’m sorry.

a.k.a the 50 First Dates Dean/Cas AU where Castiel wakes up on a day just like any other, except that three years have passed without his knowing, and Dean Winchester is in the kitchen wanting to marry him.

11. Morning, Teach

Words: 174K

Summary: Art teacher Castiel Novak has just turned 29 when he meets Dean Winchester at a gay club. After sleeping with the boy, he leaves in a hurry, trying to cope with the guilt over betraying his girlfriend and his overly conservative parents. But forgetting Dean becomes close to impossible, when Castiel's new job at a High School in San Francisco reveals Dean to be a most troublesome student.

12. Hot Water

Words: 151K

Summary: Castiel hated public showers. In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

13. Waves

Words: 55K

Summary: Dean Winchester is the average guy: football, college, kid brother, nice car, girls and beer; his life is black and white, that is until he meets Castiel Collins: pretentious, slutty, sweater-wearing genius, who won't even take the time to look up at him from his obscure novel while he insults him. And then everything is shades of gray and Dean is drowning.

15. Soft Touch Raw Nerve

Words: 152K

Summary: Due to a hunt gone wrong, Dean has an injured leg; he has to stay in a rehab-center for the next six weeks, while Sam continues the hunter's life on his own. The only glimmer of light is Castiel, Dean's physiotherapist, and how they come closer to each other as time goes by.

16. How To Save a Life

Words: 48K

Summary: Having lost both of his parents in a terrible car accident, Dean Winchester lives a life filled with guilt and self-hate. That is until he calls a suicide hotline and the soothing voice of 'Cas' turns his life upside down...

17. Porcelain

Words: 73K

Summary: High School AU ~ Dean Winchester has it all. He's captain of the football team, a self-confessed ladies' man and one of the most popular guys in school. But, is all of that about to change when he meets the mysterious Castiel Novak in an online chat-room?

Side note: do NOT read this if you’re looking for fluff and no angst at all bc even though this shit is amazing, it’s also sad as fuck :)

18. The Open Sky (Is Mine Tonight)

Words: 22K

Summary: Castiel Novak is a wedding planner in San Francisco who doesn’t have the time or the energy for a relationship right now. After an accident introduces him to the charming pediatrician Dean Winchester, he thinks that might change. Unfortunately, Dean is engaged to Castiel’s new favorite client, Anna Milton, and it’s suddenly a game of tug-o-war between what Castiel wants and what Castiel needs — but as he comes to find out, often times those things are exactly the same.

19. Peace And Good Luck To All Men

Words: 32K

Summary: Christmas in the Milton household was difficult enough without the added complication of guests- and if Luke and Gabriel placing bets on who can get with Sam first wasn’t bad enough, then Cas developing a ridiculous crush on his sister’s boyfriend definitely is.

20. Danger Danger

Words: 101K

Summary: Life turns upside down for Detective Castiel Novak, when his partner and lover Balthazar is shot by a member of a crime syndicate. Life gets even weirder with rookie Dean Winchester showing up as his new partner and somewhere in between revenge and grief the explosive duo becomes closer than they thought they would…

21. Small Town Charmer

Words: 82K

Summary: By ten a.m. Dean had seen his dream of expanding the hardware store dashed. By one, his baby had been impounded off the street. By midnight, Dean's personal space had been invaded by an angry, wet bookseller with hot blue eyes and an armful of natty first editions. There was also a cat. Maybe we should start at the beginning..

22. The Breath Of All Things

Words: 66K

Summary: Dean Winchester was twenty-six years old when a car accident killed his father and left him paralysed from the waist down. A year and a half later, Dean is in a wheelchair and lives in a care home in Kansas, where he spends his days waiting to die. It's only when Castiel Novak starts volunteering at the care home that Dean starts to wonder if a changed life always equals a ruined one.

23. Kiss The Baker

Words: 113K

Summary: Jo is pregnant and craving something a little bit unusual. When she sends Dean on a mission to find her some chocolate cake donuts with bacon sprinkles, he's sure that he'll fail. Luckily his partner Benny comes to his rescue and introduces him to a quirky little bakery that sells all kinds of weird (and delicious!) baked goods. And they do special orders!Dean finds excuses to keep going back, and Castiel finds excuses to keep giving him special treats.

24. Like Real People

Words: 135K

Summary: Dean Winchester is a respected literature teacher at Lawrence's best private school, yet he feels like he's still a complete and utter travesty of a human being. Months after his father's death, he's yet to come to terms with the negative impact John Winchester had on his life. Though he's determined never to admit it, the only thing Dean's ever wanted was an Apple Pie Life: it's something that's been dangled in front of his face, though he's certain he could never deserve it.While Dean struggles to come to terms with the isolated, lonely life he's made for himself, a disruption comes in the form of Castiel Novak, Lawrence Private's newest faculty member. Those blue eyes and raspy voice are things Dean can't ignore for long, and when he's forced to stop fighting his affections, Dean finds his lonely life turned upside down.Is it possible he could deserve an Apple Pie Life after all?

#destiel #supernatural #reclist #destiel ff #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfic list #spn

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ao3gingerswag · 3 years

Note

Since we’re about to get attacked with more angst, here is a soft Drabble for this universe:

One day, the tavern hosts an extroverted woman (Rowena maybe). She’s laughing boisterously, which of course, makes Cas and Dean avoid her because loud noises. While they’re wishing her goodnight, she mentions that there’s no apple pie on the menu. Cas, thinking this is a critique, apologizes profusely. The lady reassures him that it wasn’t a critique and that she actually was going to offer them her recipe. She implores them to try and make it before leaving for town (she promises she’ll be back though).

The next day, there’s a lull in customers, and with Sam’s extra hands, the trio have a few hours to themselves. Dean mentions he’s never had pie, so Cas decides they’ll try to make it.

The three get their designated jobs. Sam reads the recipe and helps measure. Cas and Dean do the actual creation, and Dean gets to taste test everything that’s edible (they give Sam the extra apples as well).

After a couple hours, the pie is ready. They only made one just in case it didn’t taste good. Dean and Cas let Sam get the first slice because he read the ingredients. He says it’s really good. Cas takes a bite, and since he’s tried pie before, he tells them it’s the best he’s ever had.

Then Dean takes a slice.

At first, Cas and Sam think he hates it because his reaction was so visceral. But then they realize it’s because he absolutely loves it. Cas immediately surrenders his slices to Dean because he knows he’s a huge sweet tooth and Sam lets Dean have some of his as well.

The entire time, Dean is talking through mouthfuls about how good it tastes. The sweetness of the apples, the crunchiness of the bread, the mixture of the filling. It’s all amazing for him.

Cas doesn’t have the heart to warn him about getting sick because he knows Dean has never been allowed to have something like this before. He just smiles at him as he excitedly rambles about the pie.

Later, as Cas tucks then in and Dean is drowsy from the pie, he looks at Cas and tells him he’s the best. Cas gives him a soft smile and kisses his hair. He ruffles Sam’s hair as well before he heads up to bed.

The best part is that it’s like every other night. They all fall asleep, warm and full of food. They fall asleep with the promise that tomorrow will be good too. They fall asleep safe and sound. They fall asleep knowing that they don’t have to cherish today, because they know tomorrow ans the days after will be as good, if not better, because they have each other.

(This went WAY longer than I intended! I literally word blurbed on anon for this. I hope you like it!)

yesssss YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!!!! <3 ;~; Dean discovering pie!!!! sammy "helping" in the kitchen!!!! cas being soft and so happy to see dean smiling!!! this prompt has everything!!!! ;~;

"The best part is that it’s like every other night. They all fall asleep, warm and full of food. They fall asleep with the promise that tomorrow will be good too. They fall asleep safe and sound. They fall asleep knowing that they don’t have to cherish today, because they know tomorrow ans the days after will be as good, if not better, because they have each other." ok shut UUUPPPPPP!!!!! ;~; AAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! that made me tear up!!!

dean starts baking the pies all the time after this!! they have them almost year round bc apples store so well during winter!!!! dean loves them best but cas and sam r psyched to always have pie available! and so r the customers they rake in $$$ from dean's awesome and passion filled baking <3 ;~; ;~; ;~;

#ao3gingerswag #asks #prompts

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charliewritesisashamed · 6 years

Text

Up In Smoke

Stoner+Suicidal Cas fic I never posted bc it is WAY to graphic for Wattpad. Like seriously huge ass fuckin trigger warning. I was in that place when I wrote it so I’m really stressing this it is REALLY graphic with the self harm. Please dont read it if that is triggering at all for you. I’m posting it now bc the non graphic parts are pretty good.

***I'm just sayin no drug dealer is ever gonna act like Crowley okay this is unrealistic af it's a fanfic not real life okay They will charge you every penny for what you buy I'm establishing that Crowley and Cas have known each other for a while and Cas has done many favors for Crowley

**also uh Moe's is the south east's version of Chipotle**

This has been a disclaimer.***

Cas slammed his truck door closed behind him. He tried to hold it in, but couldn't. He bawled into his stearing wheel. He rubbed his eyes, hoping no one in the school parking lot had seen his break down. He grabbed his phone and texted the contact "Crowley." Hey, it's been a rough couple days, and I just got paid. Can I stop by and fill up? Cas flipped the ignition and pulled up some Hollywood Undead on his iPod, waiting for a response from Crowley. He checked his phone. Sure, darling, mind grabbing me some smokes? Cas didn't bother answering, he just pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the nearest gas station.

He parked his truck behind a rather sketchy looking apartment building. Crowley was already outside, a cigarette in hand. He was short, dark, almost black hair. He wore a leather jacket and black t shirt with worn jeans, Stereotypical motherfucker. "Got my Pall Malls?" He asked, blowing smoke. "Yup. Hope you know, I can smell it from here," Cas walked up to Crowley and gave him his smokes. "Landlord buys from me, he doesn't give a shit. C'mon," he led Cas inside. Once inside, Crowley pulled out a freezer gallon bag rolled up, out of his inside coat pocket. "And because you're such a delight, half off." Cas pulled out his wallet. "Only $40," Crowley smiled. "$40 is not half of what I ordered." "Over or under?" Crowley unrolled the bag and examined the contents. "This is $120 so.. dude, I'm really baked, I'm sorry, whatever half of $120 is." Cas laughed, "I can tell, your apartment reeks, dude," Cas fumbled with his wallet, "here's half of $120 is $60, plus $10 for rolling." Crowley refused the extra $10. "No, Cas, rolling on me, okay?" Cas took the $10 and the now rolled up gallon bag. "Thanks, Crowley," Cas pocketed his wallet. "Cas," Crowley pulled him into a hug, "I love ya, buddy." Crowley wouldn't let go. "I'm really baked." "Get some rest," Cas urged, Crowley laughed.

Cas quickly grabbed an empty cigarette box from his center consol and gently placed in 20 joints, shoving the rest of gallon bag in the trash bag behind his seat. He pulled out an actual cigarette, Marlboro silver, and grabbed the lighter from the glove box. Cas quickly inhaled half of the cigarette before even turning his car on. He drove home finishing his cigarette.

Cas had smoked 3 joints and was pretty baked by midnight. "I'm sorry," he kept whispering to himself. His roommate, Gabe, had bought a pack of disposable razors, he had one in his hand. He'd shaven it down enough to expose the razor part. Cas just stared at it. He got up and took off his pants, and walked into the bathroom. Gabe won't be back until Friday. He's at Sam's.

((TW))

Cas didn't really notice what he was doing until he was covered in his own blood. His thighs sliced up in dozens of places, his boxers were soaked, if he'd been wearing a shirt, the bottom portion would've been, too. A few more slices and he fell asleep.

That morning he woke up in a pool of blood that had began to clot. It was going on 7, his first class was at 10. Cas went into his room and grabbed a pair of clean boxers, somehow without getting blood on anything.

Cas stepped around the large puddle and found hydrogen peroxide under the sink. He poured almost half the bottle around the blood and let it set, going to the kitchen to get a roll of paper towels. Between the paper towels and the peroxide, almost all of the blood was soaked up by 8:30. Cas peroxided the tile to get any dried clots up. Cas hopped into the shower and his legs extremely angry about it.

Cas tried to ignore his burning thighs as he sat in his psychology class. He wore a tank top and black jeans. Despite the jeans he still felt like they were bleeding through and everyone could see and they were all secretly making fun of him. He scribbled down notes and tried not to space out, despite still being kinda high.

Another week of getting stoned and smoking and cutting blurred by. He stopped by the gas station near his apartment to pick up a new box of smokes. He walked in and took out $14 "Two Marlboro please, silver," Cas didn't look up from counter. "I'm gonna need to see some ID," an unfamiliar voice said from behind the register. "There is no way you're over 18." Cas looked up, the man behind the counter smiled and winked. "A-a-are you hitting on me?" Cas was taken aback. He pulled out his licence and handed to the man. "Yes, I am," he looked at Cas's licence, "Castiel Novak." "Cas," he handed the man the $14. "Change is 88 cents," Cas stared down at his wallet. The man chuckled. "Here is your 88 cents, your two Marlboros and," he grabbed a pen, circled his name at the top of the receipt and scribbled down 10 digit number. "My name is Dean and I get off work at 7." Cas blushed, "O-okay," he quickly hurried back to his truck.

At 7:02 Cas dialed the number Dean had given him. He quickly took another hit off the joint he was working on as his anxiety spiked. Dean picked up. "Hello?" "Hi, Dean, this is Cas, two Marlboros, from earlier today," Cas hated phone calls, he was shaking, he took another hit. "The cute one, Castiel Novak, 88 cents," Dean responded. "Yes, you said you g-got off work at 7," great now he was stuttering, he took two more hits. "Yes, sir, how would you like to have dinner?" Dean asked. "S-sure, w-where at?" "Moe's? D'you like Moe's?" Dean asked. "S-sure, meet you there at 8?" "Moe's at 8, see you there." "You too," Cas squeaked, hanging up.

Cas hit lock and his truck beeped in response as he walked toward the Moe's, his jacket billowing behind him. Dean stood outside, staring at the door. "Hey," Cas called over to him. Dean turned to him and smiled, "Hi, cutie, so they close at 9 so I'm thinking we get food to-go and eat at the park or your place or my place?" "Sure," Cas smiled.

"So where'd'ya wanna go?" Dean asked. Cas thought about the state of his apartment, reaking of weed and cigarettes and blood, a plastic laundry hamper with clothes covered in blood was somewhere in the hallway. "I have a couple blankets behind my seats, we can lay in the bed of my truck somewhere," Cas suggested. "Lead the way to somewhere," Dean unlocked his car.

Cas pulled into the parking lot of a park that was definitely closed at 8:45pm on a Saturday, Dean parked next to him. Cas grabbed the blanket from behind his passenger seat and hoped there wasn't any weed rolled up in it. Cas locked the cab behind him and jumped up in the bed, unfurling the blanket. "TARDIS blanket? Bonus points," Dean smiled, jumping up into the bed. He sat his bag down and sat down next to Cas.

"Good ass burrito," Cas said, breaking the silence. Dean chuckled, laying down. "Do you smell weed?" Dean asked. Cas was thankful he wasn't facing Dean as he went white. "God, I haven't smoked in forever, ugh what I wouldn't do for a hit or two." "Oh, thank God," Cas sighed. "What?" Dean sat up. Cas unlocked the cab of his truck and jumped out of the bed. He fished around in his coat pocket for his cigarette box. Without locking the cab, Cas jumped back into the bed, sitting directly in front of Dean, he placed the two boxes in between the two. "Cas, I meant weed," Dean chuckled. "I know," he responded, picking up the small box wrapped in duct tape, opening it to reveal 15 thin joints and a lighter. "This is Issac," Cas clicked the disposable lighter with an eye on it, "get it? 'Eye'sac? He's my best friend. I have more conversations with him than I do most other people. I was scared you'd be one of those people who look down on people like me, I'm really glad you're not, you seem really cool, but I'm also really stoned, so I could be wrong about that," Cas rambled. "You-you smoke a lot?" Dean asked. "Yes. I hope that won't be a problem," Cas frowned. "No, no, just curious, I wanna know more about you, I haven't learned much so far," Dean brushed some hair away from Cas's eyes. "Well, I'm in college, a lot of debt, I smoke a lot, both cigs and weed, I haven't had a boyfriend since sophomore year of high school, I've tried to kill myself 13 times this month, my roommate, Gabe, is-" "Wait, hold on, go back, you've tried to kill yourself? 13 times? This month?" Dean questioned. "Uh, yeah, I'm obviously not very good at that, or maybe I'm just not trying hard enough, I dunno," Cas rubbed his burning thigh. "My roommate, Gabe, is also gay, he's at his boyfriend's for a while, I've been avoiding making another appointment with my therapist, for obvious reasons, and if slash when we do sexy times stuff I'm going to do my best to not even look down at my legs at this point," Cas stopped and took a deep breath. Dean leaned forward and firmly kissed Cas. As Dean pulled away Cas took a deep breath in, "I have really bad anxiety issues I shouldn't be allowed to live on my own, there has to be at least half a gram of just pure THC currently in my body at this point, we can't go to my place, there's too much tobacco and weed and blood, I'm going to make stupid desicions tonight, and your eyes are really pretty," Cas grabbed Dean's face, pulling him back into a kiss.

#destiel #suicidal #tw self harm #drugs #supernatural

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