#cas x reader-insert

[hollybell51]

Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth. 

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least. 

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion. 

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly. 

“Would you say that, Cas?” 

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat. 

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?” 

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.” 

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?” 

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward. 

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.” 

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?” 

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.” 

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–” 

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.” 

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid. 

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.  

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–” 

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?” 

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed. 

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.” 

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing. 

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.” 

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.” 

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed. 

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–” 

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.” 

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening. 

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent. 

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.” 

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.” 

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?” 

“Maybe.” 

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.” 

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet. 

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.” 

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.” 

“Because I scared away a prostitute?” 

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.” 

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?” 

“Feelings?” 

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie… 

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Someone who wants you.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Not just your money.” 

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.” 

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks. 

“Do you want me?” Cas asked. 

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own. 

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right. 

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect. 

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious. 

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties. 

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again. 

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you. 

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.” 

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought. 

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip. 

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.” 

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body. 

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human. 

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.” 

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face. 

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added. 

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.” 

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?” 

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.” 

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest. 

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push. 

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones. 

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?” 

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you. 

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired. 

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.” 

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.” 

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.” 

“Bone graffiti?” 

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts. 

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips. 

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment. 

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly. 

“Keep going?” 

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing. 

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection. 

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again. 

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm. 

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.” 

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.” 

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.” 

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.” 

“And did it?” 

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh. 

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly. 

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Yes, you did cum?” 

“Yes, yes I did.” 

“Was it good?” 

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.” 

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel. 

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways. 

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis. 

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw. 

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light. 

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?” 

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

You smiled. “Yeah.” 

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?” 

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“I want you to feel good too.” 

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs. 

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking. 

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe. 

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request. 

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one. 

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining. 

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then. 

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?” 

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor. 

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing. 

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door. 

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again. 

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving. 

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own. 

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.” 

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement. 

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.” 

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick. 

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.” 

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more. 

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips. 

You smiled. “Ready?” 

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you. 

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.” 

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long. 

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.” 

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts. 

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.” 

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.” 

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation. 

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–” 

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle. 

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest. 

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself. 

“Sorry, sorry I–” 

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–” 

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display. 

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval. 

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.” 

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?” 

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?” 

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.” 

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance. 

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him. 

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now. 

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?” 

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—” 

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin. 

“Alright?” you breathed. 

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that? 

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand. 

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–” 

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer. 

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind. 

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling. 

“Alright?” you asked. 

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently. 

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?” 

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.” 

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.” 

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.” 

“No?” 

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.” 

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about  the rest? What do you think?” 

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.” 

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?” 

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.” 

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction. 

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.” 

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.” 

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?” 

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.” 

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder. 

“G’night,” you whispered. 

“Good night, (Y/N).” 

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet. 

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.” 

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

[octoberclidan]

You're Not Okay

Request: hiii can u do reader having a bad day and whenever sam and dean asks whats wrong shes just like "oh im fine" but cass notices everything and at the end of the day he just like comforts her and its just a lot of fluff? (reader x cass)

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

It was late at night, and [Y/N] was alone in the motel room. She'd just finished up a hunt with Sam and Dean, and while they'd gone out to a bar to celebrate, [Y/N] had hurt her foot and had hit her head, so she just wanted to rest in peace and try to ignore the pain. She also wanted to forget the image of Dean shouting at her to stop being so clumsy. He had a habit of snapping at her whenever she got injured on a hunt. She knew it was because he cared and was scared to lose her or see her hurt, but his words still stung anyway. She'd been watching TV when she'd fallen asleep on one of the beds that hadn't originally been hers, but after getting hurt, Dean had insisted she take it instead of her usual spot on the couch. Despite being annoyed at her, he still didn't want her to be in any more pain that she already was. She was tossing and turning, and her breathing was erratic.

[Y/N] was thrown against a wall, landing on her hands and knees on the cool concrete of the warehouse. Her ears were ringing and her head hurt, and her vision was blurry as she tried to look around the room for the witch. Someone was shouting at her - Sam? No, it sounded more like Dean. She couldn't make out what they were saying to her, but it sounded important. A dark figure was getting closer to her, and for a moment she thought one of the boys were going to help her up, but the figure was too short to be either of them. The figure mumbled something, and she suddenly felt a searing pain in her foot. She tried to grab it but she was once again thrown back against the wall. She looked up, and the figure was getting closer. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't move, she couldn't scream, she couldn't...

She woke up, sitting straight up in bed trying to catch her breath. There was a 'click' sound to her left and her head shot towards the door, only to find Dean walking into the room, Sam following behind him. "Morning", Dean smiled sheepishly at her as he shrugged off his coat. "How's your foot?"

"Hope we didn't wake you", Sam said as he flicked on the light to see where he was going. It was still dark out, so she figured it must still be very early. "Hey, are you okay?" He squinted at her as his eyes became accustomed to the light.

"Why are you sweating? It's not exactly warm in here", Dean walked over to her and felt her forehead, but she pushed his hand off.

"I'm fine, just tired. What time is it?"

"It's uh, 4:30am", Sam said as he walked over to her bed. "You sure you're okay? I can take a look at your foot, make sure it's not showing signs of infection", he said as he began to lift her covers up. She groaned and grabbed them back from him.

"I said I'm fine, I'm just tired, and it's still early so if it's okay with both of you, I'd like to get back to sleep. Okay?"

"Okay". Sam held up his hands in defence and stepped away from the bed, sharing a look of concern with his brother. "We're sorry for waking you". They decided not to push it and just get some sleep themselves. She felt a little bit bad for snapping at them, but the ache in her foot and head were getting to her. She decided she'd apologise in the morning, and closed her eyes to try and sleep as she heard Sam and Dean settle down.

Sam was already asleep in his bed and Dean was getting close to falling asleep on the couch when the door opened again. [Y/N] turned her head and felt a little rush of joy as Cas walked into the room. His eyes glanced over Sam and Dean briefly, but he focused on [Y/N]. She always felt her mood lift whenever Cas was around, there was just something about him that she found calming. He hadn't been around much lately, being busy with other things, but that just made it even more special when he was there.

"Dean told me you got hurt", he said as he walked over to the bed, concern filling his eyes.

"Apparently she's fine", Dean mumbled from the couch, not bothering to open his eyes while [Y/N] rolled hers.

"I am fine, just have a sore foot. Normal hunting injury", she shrugged but Cas' concern didn't lift. She didn't protest as he raised his hand to press his fingers to her forehead, and she relaxed as she felt warmth flow through her.

"You had a fracture in your foot, and you also had a slight concussion. That is not fine", he said as he sat down on the edge of her bed, his eyes boring into hers.

"Oh", she said, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. "Thank you".

"You're welcome. You should sleep, I'll wait for the three of you to wake up later".

"Are you going to stay here?" She asked, hopeful that he'd stay, since she always slept better when he was in the room, though she'd never admitted that to anyone. She could imagine the teasing if Dean found out, or even Sam.

"No, I have to..." He paused when he saw her face drop, recognising her disappointment, something that he didn't like seeing. He pretended to clear his throat, a time-filler he'd picked up from Sam over the years. "I mean, yes. I'll stay until you wake up, I can do what I need to from here".

"I'll see you in the morning then", she smiled at he gave her a small smile back.

"Sleep well, [Y/N]".

***

After a couple of hours of sleep, the morning sun started to break through the motel's thin and moth-eaten curtains, stirring her. [Y/N] blinked her eyes open to find Sam stretching in his bed, and Dean already sitting up on the couch with a mug of coffee in his hands. Cas was sitting at the table, an old book laid out in front of him, but he was watching [Y/N]. He quickly averted his gaze when she looked at him, so to her, it looked like he was engrossed in his book. "Morning", she said to the room.

"Hey", Sam said as he stood up from his bed, heading to the bathroom. "Guess we're heading out back to the bunker as soon as possible? Unless we need to stop anywhere on the way back".

"As soon as the two of you are up and ready", Dean nodded at him. Sam nodded back before closing the bathroom door behind him. [Y/N] stretched, glad that the pain in her foot and head was gone. She pushed her covers back and got out of the bed to walk over to the counter beside Dean and Cas, which had a small coffee machine on it. She poured herself a cup and was about to sit down beside Dean, but he readjusted his legs at just the wrong moment and she ended up tripping over them, spilling the coffee on him in the process and catching herself on the couch.

"That fucking burns!" Dean stood straight up off the couch and pulled his now wet t-shirt away from his body and shaking it up and down to fan himself. "

"I am so sorry, I tripped when you moved your legs", [Y/N] said as she stood up, grimacing at Dean's glare.

"Dean, I can heal that", Cas said as he stood up from his seat, walking over to Dean with his hand out and ready.

"Yeah? Can you clean my shirt too?" He asked sarcastically. "This was my last one, I'm gonna have to drive while soaked and smelling of coffee. I'm going to stink up Baby now", he sighed as Cas healed the very small burn on his chest, something that probably would've healed on its own within a day or two.

"Maybe you can borrow one of Sam's?" [Y/N] suggested, but she was only met with another of Dean's glares.

"Maybe you can watch where you're going?" Dean mimicked her voice, mocking her.

"Dean, it was just an accident", Cas spoke up for her, but Dean just waved him off and left the room. "Are you alright?" Cas asked, turning to [Y/N]. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, she hated when someone she cared about was mad at her, but she nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine".

"No, you're not, you-"

"Hey, Dean already out at the car?" Cas was cut off by Sam coming out of the bathroom. "What's wrong?" He frowned at Cas' concerned expression and [Y/N]'s attempt to sniff and clear her throat quietly.

"Nothing", [Y/N] spoke quickly before Cas did. "I uh, I spilled coffee on Dean's shirt, do you have any spare ones?" She asked and Sam went to his bag to rummage through it, pulling out a clean t-shirt and smiling at her, earning a relieved smile back from her. "Thanks", she breathed out, grabbing her bag and stepping into the bathroom to get ready quickly herself, not wanting the rest of them to be waiting too long for her. She took a deep breath and shook herself off, looking into the bathroom mirror. "Bad start doesn't mean you write it off as a bad day", she said to herself.

***

It was mid afternoon when they stopped at a gas station for Dean to fill up the car. "You want anything? I'm just gonna go in and find a snack or something", [Y/N] asked Sam and Cas while Dean was just about to turn off the engine. She was sitting in the back beside Cas, and the journey had been pretty quiet, all of them tired from the hunt and lack of sleep, well, except Cas. She didn't really want a snack, she just wanted a chance to be alone with Dean to apologise to him properly. When Sam and Cas both declined her offer, and Dean was closing his door behind him to head into the store, [Y/N] opened her door to follow behind him.

Dean pushed the door to the store open and stepped aside for her, ushering her in. She was in the middle of saying thank you, when she tripped over the small step in the doorway. She was about to brace herself for the fall when a strong arm hooked around her waist and pulled her back, steadying her. She turned around and looked up at Dean, finishing her 'thank you', but now meant for a different reason, and now with much more embarrassment. She mentally scolded herself for not watching where she was going, again, and especially in front of Dean. She expected another snarky comment from him, but looked up at him in confusion when he chuckled to himself as he let go of her. "You're okay. I'm uh, sorry for snapping at you during the hunt and also this morning. You know how I get when someone I care about gets hurt and I'm running on no sleep".

"It's fine, I deserved it. I do need to watch where I'm going. I wanted to say sorry for spilling my coffee on you earlier actually".

"Don't worry about it, forgiven and forgotton", he smiled down at her, and she smiled back, though it wasn't a smile that reached her eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine", she nodded. "I'll meet you back out at the car, I'm just gonna grab a snack". She parted ways with Dean and found a packet of her favourite snack, hoping that it would brighten up her day a little bit. She was feeling a bit useless, or more like a hindrance than a help to the team at the moment. It was really getting her down. She planned to spend a solid chunk of each day training until the next hunt. Maybe she could improve her balance, or her spatial awareness.

***

"Are you serious?" [Y/N] groaned, throwing head back in the car.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked from his place in the front, and Cas turned to look at her too.

"Look!" She showed both of them the packet she'd opened, the one she'd bought at the gas station. "These are supposed to be dry, not a... wet, soggy... whatever this is!"

"Is that mould?" Sam asked, crinkling his nose as he looked into the bag.

"I dont want to know what it is", she shook her head as she closed the bag.

"Don't even think about putting that down anywhere in Baby, put it in your bag", Dean warned her, catching her eyes in the rearview mirror. "We'll be back in an hour or so".

"I don't want this is my bag", she complained.

"Well it's not touching my car", Dean replied.

"I'll take it", Cas reached over and took the packet from her, holding it in his lap. "Are you hungry?" He asked.

"Not after smelling that... you don't have to hold it for me, Cas".

"It doesn't bother me".

"Well... thank you", she smiled at him, and he smiled back. He knew she wasn't having the best day, so anything he could do to make it better, he would do.

***

[Y/N] unpacked her bag when she got back to the bunker, and took a moment to sit on her bed. It was the evening at this stage, and although the day hadn't been the worst she'd ever had, it hadn't exactly been the best either. She was trying not to let the little things get to her, but she was finding it difficult. Cas was out in the library, researching something to do with a long-lost tablet that could be helpful with supplying energy to heaven. She had told him that she'd help once she'd unpacked, so once she had pushed her negative thoughts to the back of her mind, she stood up and made her way to the library.

She found him sitting at the desk, a pile of books in front of him, and pieces of paper scattered around the table. He looked focused, eyebrows furrowed as he read from a very old, very dusty looking piece of parchment. She stood in the doorway for just a minute, enjoying his calming presence, until he looked up at her, his concentration breaking. "Hello [Y/N], do you still have time to help?" He asked, and she nodded, stepping into the room.

"Of course, I'm free for the rest of the evening", she said as she walked over to him. Unfortunately, she brushed against a loose piece of paper that was hanging over the edge of the table as she went to pull out a chair. It caught against her hip and was pulled out, along with about thirty other pieces of loose paper that were lying on top of it. They all scattered across the library's floor, flying in all directions and spreading their dust as they settled. She stood there, looking at them, and sighed. No matter what she did, something had to go wrong. "I don't even know why I try. I don't know why you wanted my help, I'm the definition of unhelpfullness. No, it's more than that. I make everything worse", she said, gesturing to the fall paper. At her words, Cas stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her arms and looking down at her.

"That's not true", he said, and she chuckled, blinking back tears as she did. "You're not okay, you need to talk. You can talk to me, [Y/N]". He hated seeing her upset, especially at herself. "Will you sit with me?" He asked, letting go of one of her arms so he could tilt her chin up to look at him. He wiped away a stray tear that escaped. "Please".

"You're too busy for this", she shook her head, but he grabbed her hand and led her to a chair at the table. He took another chair and pulled it in front of her, sitting down so his knees touched hers.

"I'm never too busy for you. You will tell me what's wrong, I'll listen, and then if you want I can offer my advice. If you don't want advice, then we can just sit together". She looked up at him and took a shaky breath, but smiled at his offer.

"There isn't really much to advise on. I'm clumsy, I don't look where I'm going, and that just makes everything harder for the people I'm just trying to help", she shrugged, and looked down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

"Hey", Cas took her hands in his. His hands were warm and secure, and she instantly found comfort in them. "Everyone messes up sometimes. You, me, Sam, Dean... we all have our strengths and our weaknesses. You are a little bit clumsy, but you're also one of the most intelligent hunters I've ever met. Your plans succeed more than anyone else's. I also... uh", he looked away in embarrassment, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"You also what?"

"I like that you're a little bit clumsy. It... amuses me. Or maybe amuses isn't the right word", he shook his head. "I find it... endearing. It's you, and I like you".

"Endearing?" She asked, her confusion now falling away and a smile pulling at her lips.

"Yes. I don't like it when you get hurt, of course, but if you had absolutely no faults then you wouldn't be you". He looked a little bit bashful as he spoke to her, now avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you, Cas", she squeezed his hands. "I've had a bad day but I don't feel so bad now". She smiled and he smiled back at her, glad she didn't look sad anymore.

"Come here", he said as he stood up, pulling her up and into a hug. She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned her head against his chest. His arms held her close, and he stroked her back comfortingly. After a couple of minutes, he leaned back and she looked up at him. "Why don't we pick the papers off the floor, and then you can help me with my research?" He asked and she nodded. She was thankful for the nice end to her bad day, and to Cas for making her feel better about herself.

The end

Castiel Taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

#supernatural fanfic #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #castiel #castiel fic #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #cas x y/n #cas x reader #cas x you #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #cas #cass #castiel supernatural #castiel spn #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #annoyed dean #sad reader #castiel comfort #spn comfort #supernatural comfort #comfort #fluffy

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Masterlist (Complete)

Summary: Nearly 11 years after a chance encounter, Dean and the reader are reunited. Dean is faced with a big surprise and an even bigger decision.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester (briefly), Bobby Singer, Castiel, various other SPN characters, original characters

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, canon typical violence and peril

Slightly Inspired by the Kelly Clarkson song of the same name. This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Piece by Piece Pt. 1

Piece by Piece Pt. 2

Piece by Piece Pt. 3

Piece by Piece Pt. 4

Piece by Piece Pt. 5

Piece by Piece Pt. 6

Piece by Piece Pt. 7

Piece by Piece Pt. 8

Piece by Piece Pt. 9

Piece by Piece Pt. 10

Piece by Piece Pt. 11

Piece by Piece Pt. 12

#fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #supernatural #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #dad!dean #spn #john winchester #cas #castiel #bobby singer

[supernaturalfreewill]

Your eyes were wide, terrified, and your breathing was ragged. You couldn't believe what—who you were staring at. "You're—you're dead. I saw you die. You were dead," you stuttered. "What the hell is this?"

Cas took a step toward you, his cobalt eyes soft and concerned, his hands in front of him in a show of good will. "I was. But now—I'm not."

You stepped back as he stepped forward. Your heart was screaming for you to believe him, but your head was yelling that it was impossible. "No—no, you were dead!"

"Y/N—it's me. Somehow, I was resurrected. I don't know how myself. I was gone. But now I'm back..."

You felt as if your knees were about to buckle. Tears stung in your eyes. Your heart was starting to beat out your head... "Is it—it can't really be—"

He took another cautious step forward. More than anything, he wanted to feel you in his arms again, press you against him, but you were still stunned staring at him with wide eyes.

"If it's really you, tell me something—tell me something only you would know," you said suddenly.

Cas nearly smiled. This would be easy. He knew everything little thing about you. He never forgot a single thing you told him or that he noticed, consider it an angelic super power. "You never liked Sesame Street as a child. You thought it was too loud. Your favorite tea is Wild Sweet Orange. You always sleep in socks, even in hot weather. Your first pet was a floppy-eared black bunny named Midnight. And—" another step toward you, "—the first time I kissed you was on that case in Kentucky, underneath the wisteria, and when I pulled back completely terrified, you grabbed me and kissed me again. And ever since then, I've never wanted to be parted from you for a single moment."

A tear broke out and ran down over your cheek. Your lips parted and though your eyes were still wide, they were less fearful. "I thought I was never going to see you again."

"I know," Cas said, nodding. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But, somehow, I'm here now and—"

He didn't need to say anymore, couldn't in fact, because you were kissing him. And it was almost as if no time had passed. You fell into each other the way two kindred souls do.

Prompt: "You're dead. I saw you die. You were dead!"

#castiel x reader #cas x y/mn #cas imagines #castiel drabbles #cas fics #reader insert #supernatural #spn imagines #cassbutt

[astr0exe]

I come to you requesting a Phillip Graves x extremely socially anxious TM reader, like so anxious that poor boy can't order his own food at a resturant or fast food place without making at least 20 grammatical errors in a 10 word sentence(too real)

Lil anxiety baby (me) basically gonna be projecting so bad on this but oh well !! Some sweet domestic fluff w/ dominant Graves who orders for you. :) short but sweet !! 3 posts in 9 hours is crazy lol ‼️i hope you like this ml <3 have a great day 🩶

Your hands are always shaking, or fidgeting with something, especially your husband’s hands. Graves is always there for you, even when it’s slightly embarrassing despite how smug and happy it makes him. He doesn’t even need to ask what your order is, already knowing (this man has amazing memory) from the last time you guys came here. His hand is hold yours softly, letting you play with his cold rings as you keep your head down at the table.

His voice is confident as he speaks, conveying both your orders to the server without a second glance or any hesitation. Smiling at you once he has ordered, knowing it helps you makes him happy. All he wants is to help you and for you to be happy. If that means ordering you food then he will do it until he dies.

#gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #lots of fluff #short but sweet #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod fic #graves cod #cod graves #phillip graves #graves x reader #graves x you #graves x y/n #philip graves x reader #philip graves #philip graves x you #cas speaks

[kaleldobrev]

The First Butterfly

Pairing: Castiel/Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Cas bond over your current interest in butterflies

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey, I just found your blog and it's so pretty! I really like your writing^^ Could I please request something for Castiel x female reader, where maybe they're not on hunts and they're just taking a break, and maybe he sees her reading something like a book about butterflies or something like this and he starts talking about them and it's just fluff? Thank you in advance ^^

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Lots of fluff, Dean bothering you (but lovingly like a brother cause he's bored)

Authors Note: I haven’t written Cas in such a long time, but I missed writing him | I hope this is as fluffy as you were hoping my sweet anon friend! | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It’s been a little over a week since you and the boys have been on a hunt, and you could tell that Dean was starting to get a little stir crazy despite your best efforts to keep him entertained with various ideas of things he could do besides bother you.

“Are you sure there’s nothing? Not even a vengeful spirit?” Dean asked you, taking a seat across from you in the War Room, propping his feet up on the table.

You looked up from your book - a book that you’d been trying to read for the past week. You gave Dean a look, a slightly annoyed look. “If there was a case Dean, don’t you think I would have told you guys?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed. You nodded, and then went back to trying to read your book, keeping your finger on the edge of the page. “It’s just, it’s never been this quiet.” He said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. You looked up at him with that same annoyed expression you had given him earlier.

“I call that a good thing.” You said, looking down at your book again. You turned the page, finally able to read something new.

“I just really need to kill something.” Dean said banging a fist onto the table, the action making you jump in your chair. “Shit.”

“Sorry.” You closed your book with a firm slap, quickly getting up from your chair. “Where ya goin’?” He asked, watching as you started walking away from him.

“To my room!” You stated, loudly. “And with my door shut!” You emphasized.

For about the last hour you had finally found some peace in your room; actually being able to read more than one page - something you hadn’t been able to do due to the distractions Dean had caused you. As much as you loved the man, you wished he had taken some of your advice and did things to keep himself occupied during this weird break you and the boys have had. Despite loving hunting, having a break was something that was a rarity; and it was times like these in which you cherished it.

Lying in bed there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. You let out an annoyed groan, expecting it to be Dean on the other side. “Go away Dean!” You stated, only briefly looking away from your book.

“It’s…me.” A small amount of relief had entered your body at that moment, happy to know that it wasn’t Dean on the other side of the door but in fact Cas. “May I…May I come in?”

“Yeah you can come in.” You said, closing the book in front of you. As much as you had wanted and tried to read the book in front of you for the past week, Cas was someone that you hadn’t seen or spoken to in about two weeks - so for you, this took precedence.

“What’s up?” You asked as Cas walked into your room, closing the door behind him.

“Nothing. It’s been quiet.” He stated, standing awkwardly next to your door.

“Nothing on angel radio uh?” You asked, sitting up now.

He shook his head. “No.” He said simply.

You patted an empty spot on your bed. “Come sit.”

He smiled at your gesture, sitting down on the edge, very much away from the spot that you had touched. As he sat down he eyed the book that you had been reading and picked it up, the smile on his face grew a tad. “I remember when He made the first butterfly. It was truly a sight to behold.” He said opening the book.

For the past week you had been trying to read a book about butterflies, a subject that you had found yourself quite interested in as of late; not really knowing why. “I bet it was.” You said, watching Cas turning the pages of the book. “I haven’t read much, but, I’m really enjoying the book. What makes it interesting, at least to me, is that it tells you a bunch of different things about the various butterfly species around the world. Their habits, characteristics, what makes each of them special in their own unique way.”

“Do you have a favorite?” He asked, looking up from the book to look at you. He had stopped at a page talking about common species of butterflies found in Kansas - a page that you had bookmarked.

“The Red Admiral.” You smiled. “It’s the most common butterfly species to be found in Kansas. And one of the most unique things about them is their diet. Did you know that they love fermented fruit?”

Cas smiled. “That is quite interesting. I didn’t know that.” He said, lying. Of course he knew that fact, but that wasn’t something he was going to disclose to you. For the first time since he had known you, this genuinely seemed like a subject that you were truly interested in, and he wasn’t about to seem like a know-it-all, or seem dismissive when it came to this particular interest of yours.

“Do you have a favorite?” You asked. You knew that Cas had lied to you, but you didn’t care in that moment that he did because you were happy that he was humoring you in your interest.

“The Protocoeliades kristenseni. But, I have to say, I’m a little bias.” He chuckled to himself.

“How so?” It was a species that you hadn’t heard of before, despite your reading.

“They’re the oldest species of butterfly.” He stated, you nodded understanding. Sometimes you had forgotten how old Cas really was; until moments like these had taken place.

“I can see why you’re bias.” Your tone joking.

“I can probably say the same for you when it comes to the Red Admiral.” His tone now joking too.

You shrugged. “What can I say? Kansas as grown on me.”

“It’s honestly so hard to believe that there is over twenty thousand butterfly species in the world.” You said, you and Cas were now lying in your bed now; yourself underneath the covers and him on top. Cas chuckled at your comment. “What?”

“It’s humorous to me that you find that unbelievable but yet you hunt monsters, things that people do not believe in.” When he had said it out loud, it did in fact sound funny.

“When you put it that way…” you trailed off. “Makes it funnier coming from you. An angel of all things.”

“So, if you were around when the first butterfly was created, what did God originally call them?” You asked. “Did you and the rest of the angels get a vote? Or was it one of those things where he wasn’t taking any suggestions?” You turned on your side now, propping up your head with your hand and elbow.

“We, we didn’t get a vote no.” Cas said, smiling, trying to hold back a small laugh. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t up to us. But, I think Joshua did have some say. He was the gardener after all.”

“So it was always butterflies?” You asked.

“Essentially yes.” He said. “Buterfleoge, but it’s just Old English for butterfly today.”

“So, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it uh?” You said, Cas looked at you confused. “Meaning, why change the name if it makes sense.” You explained. “Butterfly doesn’t make sense though. I mean, I hate to say this but, was God…high when he named them? I mean, no butterfly looks like a stick of butter. And I know for a damn fact that butter wasn’t around yet either when he created them…or named them.”

“Jesus.” You were amazed. “I didn’t think you would actually do it.” You said.

“It’s not that difficult.” He said, as he started playing with his fingers.

“You named every single species of butterfly like it was nothing. That’s…that’s pretty impressive.” And it was. There was over twenty thousand species and Cas was able to name them all in less than 15 minutes, a feat that you didn’t think he would be able to pull off.

“It’s just as impressive to me as when you name every single Queen song like it’s nothing.” He said.

“You can thank Dean for that weird talent I have.” You stated. “Being in the car with that man every day for years will do that to you. Because of him, I know every single band from the 70s and 80s along with all of their members past and present, along with the names of all of their songs. Including, all the lyrics to said songs. Helps when he listens to the same albums over and over and sings along.”

“What got you interested in butterflies? I’ve never seen you read about them before?” Cas asked, he was now underneath the covers with you now, his trench coat hung neatly on the coat rack in your room in the corner.

“I don’t know. I just…for some reason I found myself really into them lately.” You said honestly. You had found butterflies interesting when you were younger, but it wasn’t a subject that you hadn’t delved deep into until recently. “I guess, I guess I really never had the time to look into anything that had interested me because of hunting.”

“Because it’s something that you were born into.” He stared, and you nodded.

“Yeah. While other kids were playing Barbie’s, talking about unicorns and butterflies and I was learning how to hustle pool and how to load a gun.” You were born into a family of hunters, kind of similar to the way Sam and Dean had been.

“I’m sorry.” His apology sincere.

“It’s not your fault. And, I know it seems like I’m complaining about my childhood but, my parents really were good people. Did the best they could.” For a while, you were mad at your parents, mad that they had raised you the way that they did - never letting you get the chance to be a normal kid. But in their own strange way, they raised you that way so you would always be able to protect yourself no matter what.

You had fallen asleep, your head leaning on Cas’ shoulder. The two of you had been talking for hours, and between the actual time and the amount of talking the two of you had done it had started to wear you out. Cas knew that you had wanted to talk to him more, talk to him about everything that you had learned so far from your book, but for the life of you, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. And as you talked about the Monarch Butterfly, your eyes had started to grow heavy. You had tried to fight it, and Cas saw that. As much as he had wanted to try and keep you up, he knew that you needed the sleep. The life of a hunter was tough, and not getting a lot of sleep was a part of the job. That is why he let you drift off into dream land so you could get that sleep that you needed.

He decided to stay there in bed with you. He wanted to enjoy the peacefulness of watching you sleep, something that he had always found fascinating to watch when it came to humans. He had only hoped that you were dreaming of butterflies. With a kiss on the top of your head, he shut his eyes too; not to sleep of course, but to just let them rest as he waited for you to wake up.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be on a tag list, let me know!

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #cas x you #cas x reader #reader insert #female reader

[softhairedhotch]

If this is not something you’re comfortable with writing please ignore it.

The reader (trans man) coming out to Hotch, after a case that has caused their dysphoria to become worse. Whether it’s a victim who was trans or a bigoted unsub and it makes them visibly angry and upset to deal with.

Ideally it would have a happy ending but the rest can be as angsty or not as you would like.

thank you for the request, i really hope i did it justice <3 it didn't come out as angsty as i thought, it's pretty sweet tbf. it's not really what i wanted to do which this idea but i couldn't think of anything else and didn't wanna keep you waiting :')

aaron hotchner x trans male reader

after a case involving murdered trans kids and a transphobic cop, you come out as trans to aaron.

warnings/content: mentions of transphobia/hate crimes, feeling unloved and unworthy, deep conversations, coming out, love confessions and kissing

word count: 1.6k

also on ao3!

what about today?

“Agent.”

You paused, Aaron's soft voice surprising you. Taking a deep breath, you turned around and forced a smile. “Yes, Sir?”

Aaron's eyes swept over your features as he slightly tilted his head. He opened his mouth, struggled to make a sound, and closed it. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

He sighed. “Sit down. Please.” You nodded and stepped toward the chair in front of his desk but he shook his head. “On the couch.”

Realisation slowly dawned on you–this conversation wasn't going to be easy. Either you had to lie and tell him the case didn't affect you mentally, that it didn't remind you how ignorant and full of hatred people can be towards others like you, and pray he didn't see through the cracks in your armour, or you told him the truth. And the truth, no matter how hard, felt like the right choice in the end. 

But whatever happened, you knew it couldn't happen in his office. You trusted him with your life but you couldn't be sure how he'd react. Taking a deep breath, you quietly asked, "Can we go somewhere else?”

Aaron tilted his head. "Like where?" 

"I don't know," you shrugged, wringing your hands together. "A bar?" 

If Aaron was confused, he didn't say anything. Instead, he moved from behind his desk and reached out to gently grab your elbow, leading you out of the office. 

As you parked the car, Aaron eyed the area with interest. His eyes, shining in the low light of a street lamp nearby, flickered over the entry of the bar. He observed the gaggle of women huddled away in the smoking area, all sharing a cigarette, then the two drag queens giggling away at an inside joke, and finally the security guard who stood at the door with a pin that proudly exclaimed ‘love is love’. “A gay bar,” he mused. “It looks nice. Do you come here often?”

“When I need to clear my head and feel a little less alone, yes.”

He smiled. “You ready to go inside?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. A few people called out to you as you made your way to your usual seat, waving with grins that you matched, although it didn't quite reach your eyes. The bartender waggled his eyebrows at you when he spotted Aaron and you bit back a laugh. Aaron slid into the booth opposite yours and gave you a polite smile, patiently waiting for you to speak. 

“So you're probably wondering why I brought you here.”

Aaron shrugged. “Because you have something you want to say and you feel as if being in a public space surrounded by people you trust will make it easier?”

You opened your mouth to answer but no sound came out. “I… What happened to not profiling each other?”

“Not a profile,” he smiled, glancing away for only a moment. “Just an observation.”

“Well, you're right. Uh, I wanted to explain why this case affected me more than most.”

Aaron sighed and leaned forward, reaching out for you as if to take your hands in his. At the last second, however, he changed his mind and pulled away, standing up instead. You stared at him with your eyebrows knitted together as he moved to your side, sliding in beside you. When he was settled, his knee bouncing against yours, only then did he speak. “You never have to explain yourself. Not to me. I just wanna make sure you're okay.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and if your heart wasn't already beating a mile a minute, it was now. Tenfold, actually, and your hands shook in your lap as you gave Aaron a tentative smile. “I appreciate that, Hotch. But this… I need to.” His eyes found yours and you lost yourself for a moment. Smiling, he glanced away, giving you time to collect your thoughts with no pressure, and for that you were grateful. Taking a deep breath, you began. “I thought I'd be okay with the case because, well, I've seen stuff like this everywhere. I see it online or on the news more often than not; it's something we can never get away from. Violence against people who are, are different, that don't conform. We've seen it before, too, on cases. People in this community have been murdered for as long as time.” 

You paused, taking another shaky breath, and for a moment it felt like time slowed to a stop and you couldn't breathe. Aaron turned to give you a smile, small but genuine, and reached out for your trembling hand. “It's okay,” he whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I'm here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return. Instead of pulling away immediately like you thought he would, he shuffled even closer so that your thighs and shoulders were pressed completely together. It gave you the courage you needed. “So when we were on that case with those… those little boys who only wanted peace and happiness, who wanted to be loved, who just wanted–needed–help and never got it from the people that should have been there for them… and when that cop said that they deserved it because they were different, because they were trans…” Aaron tensed beside you. “Something inside me broke. I felt like a kid again being told that I'd never be loved because of who I am.”

“Because of your sexuality?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. The hand in your lap felt like a weighted blanket, something that brought comfort, and it allowed you to breathe out your next words. “Because of my identity. Because I'm trans, too.”

Aaron didn't flinch. He didn't pull away, he didn't breathe, and he didn't make a sound. You immediately thought the worst–that he was disgusted in you but couldn't bring it in himself to react. Hesitantly, you slowly began pulling your hand from his, unwinding your fingers. But before you could pull your hand completely away, he tightened his grip and pulled your combined hands into his own lap. The rough pad of his thumb slid across your knuckles, his touch featherlight but filled with a tenderness that had your heart leaping into your throat.

His other hand gently cupped your cheek, large and warm and firm, and angled your head up so that your eyes connected with his. Instead of disgust, all you found was acceptance. “Listen to me,” he said, voice hushed as if you were in a library. Despite the excited bustle surrounding you, music so loud it was almost disorientating, all you could focus on was him. His tongue flitted out and swept across his bottom lip nervously before he continued. “This doesn't change how I see you. You're still you, okay? And you always will be.” He gave you a sad smile. “And you have every right to be upset. Every right. What that cop said… I wish you hadn't heard it, I really do, but more importantly I wish he hadn't said it, or even thought it. I wish many others didn't share the same views, too, because you… you don't deserve that.”

“No one does,” you replied.

“No one does,” he repeated. “But you… Oh, you. I'm sorry that someone thought it was their right to tell you that you could never be loved because it's not true. Not in the slightest.” His thumb gently swiped over your cheekbone. “You are so, so loved.”

You gave him a weak smile. “I know. But not in the way I want to be. I don't think I'll ever get that.”

It was as if you could see the reflection of Aaron's heart breaking in his eyes. He gave you a sad look, not one of pity but of understanding, and nodded. “You will.”

“Maybe one day.”

“What about today?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping low to your lips before finding your eyes again, and his head moved hardly an inch closer. If you weren't so close already, you wouldn't have noticed. But now you were keenly aware of his breath mixing with yours, the way your combined hands slotted together perfectly, how the comforting and familiar smell of him washed over you, and how his eyes shone with acceptance and love. 

“I…” Aaron started, trailing off in uncertainty. It's the only time you've ever seen him truly nervous. He licked his lips again and it took all your strength not to surge forward and press yours against his. “I love you.”

All that strength disappeared the moment those words left his trembling mouth and, before you knew it, you were kissing him. Mind completely silent, body losing all sensation except for where his body met yours, you felt like you were floating. His grip loosened on both your hand and face for hardly a moment before he held you twice as hard and kissed you back. It wasn't romantic by any means, the kiss feeling like a game of catch-up you had no idea how long had been in motion, lips and teeth and tongues clashing frantically, but it had your blood rushing in your ears and the world disappearing around you. 

When you pulled back for air, Aaron remained still. His lips were still slightly pursed, as if trapped in a memory he never wanted to escape, and his eyes were closed, a slight red tinge to his cheeks. He looked peaceful. He looked beautiful. 

As you admired him, the words slipped from your mouth with ease. “I love you too.”

#aaron hotchner x trans male reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #cas writes #aaron hotchner fanfic #x reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #reader insert

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Err on The Side of Awesome

(Not my gif)

Kol Mikaelson's Daughter Headcanons

Requested by: @katherinereilly19

Here lies my Masterlist

You were adopted by Kol and Davina Claire-Mikaelson at age six from a Catholic orphanage run by nuns who all thought you were some sort of demon child.

See, like your adopted father, you were a witch and had come into your power rather early. Davina had been sensing some odd power flares in the area and, when she and Kol had gone to investigate, there you were - a sweet, little bundle of mischief with more power than you knew what to do with.

To say that you had Kol wrapped around your little finger from the first second he saw you would be no exaggeration. Seriously. 

Kol had never thought himself fit to be a husband, let alone a parent. It still baffles him some days that Davina agreed to marry him - most days in fact - it just seemed too good to be true. They traveled the world for a while and then… Well, Davina, she…

She said she wanted kids.

She didn't say that she used to want kids or that she would have wanted them had she married someone else. Davina said she wanted to be a mom. With him. She said she wanted to have a kid with him and she wanted Kol to be that kid's dad.

At first, he almost thought it was a joke. Who in their right mind would trust him with a child? But no, Davina was serious. 

And it terrified him.

Kol is well aware of just how miserably his parents screwed up their job and he's pretty sure he couldn't do any worse but that doesn't mean he'd do well.

But the guy took just one look at you and he knew without a doubt that there was no alternative realm, no obscure future, and no minuscule probability in which he could cause you any harm.

For the first little while, you were convinced (thanks to the nuns) that you would have to be an absolute angel of a child in order to be wanted by your new parents. You helped clean things, refrain from using your magic, made your bed, brushed your teeth, and never asked for anything.

Three months in, you dropped a plate and broke down crying, begging Mr. and Mrs. Claire-Mikaelson (because you wouldn't dare call them mom and dad) not to send you back.

What began as your average Tuesday afternoon turned into a deeply formative experience when Kol sat you on his knee, looked you in the eyes, and said:

"Y/N, darling, I want you to listen to me very closely, alright? There is absolutely nothing on this earth you can do or say that will make your mother and I love you any less. There is no such thing as good enough - there is no bar you have to meet - only what you are. Now, a plate is infinitely replaceable, but you are our daughter and I will love you until the end of time. That makes you infinitely more valuable than a plate. Okay?"

"O-okay… dad?"

That was a day you never forgot as you grew older. 

Speaking of growing, no matter how old you get, Kol can and will pick you up by the ankle and hold you upside down. It never gets old.

Also, piggy-back rides.

You did go through a phase where you were convinced there was a monster in your closet.

"Dad! There's a monster in my closet and it wants to eat my toes!"

"Really? Well, I must applaud the audacity."

There were quite a few nights you spent cuddled up between them as Davina braided your hair and Kol told you a story until you fell asleep. 

Kol always refers to you and Davina as "his girls".

He's always willing to play with you, whether it be a game of tag or a complex drama plot with your dolls. (His personal favorite was when you decided to reenact the French Revolution in Barbie form.)

Daddy-Daughter Days are 100% a thing. The two of you are huge movie and arcade goers. Not to mention huge fantasy nerds. From Deltora Quest to Harry Potter to the freaking Wheel of Time - your fascination with the fantastical never fades as you grow. You never thought yourself too old to be read to at night, so Kol never stopped the tradition.

You're a little (a lot) spoiled. But not in a bad way. You're not ungrateful but let's just say you have quite a few pets.

Auntie Bex is always more than willing to babysit when your parents want some time to themselves. You remind her of Kol when he was a kid and she adores that.

Play-Dates with your cousin Hope mean quite a few headaches for your uncles Klaus and Elijah. Aunt Hayley thinks you're absolutely hilarious while Aunt Cami is convinced you're like 4 different varieties of insane. She might have a point there.

When you're old enough to be in school, you can always count on your parents to help you with your homework. You never would have made it through middle or high school without your dad, Kol is insanely good at math and chemistry. However, when it comes to anything to do with history or government, he passes the torch to Davina because even though he lived through it, he literally never paid enough attention to remember anything.

Parent-Teacher conferences are always interesting. 

"Y/N is so intelligent. Truly a joy to have in class."

"Is she now?"

Neither of them buys it for a second. You have a mischievous streak a mile long, the teacher just doesn't know that you're the one putting tacks on her chair. Kol is honestly proud and Davina may try to be the voice of reason but she can't help laughing at just how alike father and daughter turned out to be.

Now, if Hope is "miraculously well adjusted" then you're probably something like a thirty-year-old in an eight-year-old body. You're like the most chill child perhaps ever. However, just like your father, your maturity level varies with the situation.

For example, Klaus once decided it would be a good idea to whip out the "You're not even a real Mikaelson" card at a family reunion. It wasn't long before Davina had thrown Klaus into a wall and Kol and Marcel were at each other's throats. 

You honestly weren't even bothered. You knew your parents loved you and that was enough so you simply said:

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

And went back to eating your dinosaur chicken nuggets.

Marcel - apparently still a little touchy on that subject - was the last to sit down again. Little did he know just how proficient you had become with teleporting objects. Naturally, you were smirking when the whoopie cushion did its noble work.

Kol is terrified that he'll lose touch with you as you grow older.

This fear never comes to fruition.

The trust between you and your parents is something every other child ever would envy. They trust your judgment and, in turn, you trust the very few restrictions they put in place for you. It's crazy because they honestly never get mad. Like ever.

However, their disappointment is the worst thing you'll ever endure. 

 They told you not to go out one night because an old enemy of Klaus' was wandering around town. You went out anyway and you were attacked. Now, you were powerful enough to fight off your assailant and kill him, but you didn't come out of that fight unscathed. You had to limp home and tell your dad what had happened. 

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. I've done much worse in my life, for much dumber reasons. To be mad at you would make me a hypocrite. I just know you're better than this - Y/N, you've shown me that you're better than this. I'm not angry with you. I'm just extraordinarily disappointed."

It happens only once and never again.

Growing up with those two for parents ensured that you quickly mastered your magic and became one of the most powerful and skilled witches of all time. But don't think for a second that you would ever be used. They would never allow that to happen.

As you reach middle and high school, a rumor begins going around that your dad is a vampire. You just snort really loud and make no further comment. It leaves everyone wondering.

First boyfriend?

Heaven help the poor sod. 

"If you ever lay your hands on my daughter against her will, you will find that you no longer have hands. I will use the bones of them to fashion myself a new pen, with which I shall write your death certificate. Do I make myself clear?"

Once you're old enough, the basement becomes something of a witchy lab space.

Explosions are… frequent.

*Coughing* "Thank goodness your mother wasn't home for that one."

"Think again, Mikaelson."

"Oh shi-"

"Uh… Hi mom!"

You're probably the healthiest Mikaelson.

When the time comes for you to graduate, it's a hard dose of reality for Kol. He understands he has to let you live your life and he would never dream of taking that away as it was taken from him, but it's just hard.

You'll never stop being his little girl.

Special thanks to: @her-violent-delights

#kol mikaelson headcanons #kol x davina #kolvina #kolvina headcannons #kol mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #fluff #rebekah mikaelson #fanfic #my name is cas and i write stuff #tvd fan fic #tvd headcanons #tvdu #the originals headcanon #the originals fanfiction #reader insert #daughter reader #fluffy fluff #kol mikaelson fanfiction #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #mikaelson family #mikaelsons x reader

[dementeddiva]

Enough

Just a drabble that came to mind while stuck on the sofa with a back injury of my own.

-Reader tries to make Cas feel better. He doesn't get enough support in my opinion.-

That hunt sucked.

It was a success but no one came out unscathed. Dean was nursing a bloody nose and black eye, you had been thrown into the side of a metal shed, jarring every muscle in your back, and Sam had nearly been run through by a rusty mower blade. It took the majority of Castiel's waning grace to get Sam stitched back up and have any chance of infection removed.

It didn't take you being able to read your angel to tell that he felt terrible that you and Dean had to stay injured longer while his grace built back up. Despite you and Dean being adamant that first aid, bed rest and booze (Dean's words) would be enough to get the two of you better, you knew Cas was angry at himself.

"Castiel I can feel the tension coming off of you." You said to your angelic boyfriend as he helped you walk from the garage to your bedroom. "It's not the first time I've been airborne and its not gonna be the last."

Castiel huffed in reply as he pushed your door open. "Don't placate me Y/N." He growled lifting you up onto your bed.

"Cas stop." You called reaching out for him as he turned to leave. "Talk to me."

"I failed you." Castiel let you pull him to sit on the mattress. "You're hurt."

"I'll be fine." You linked your fingers with his. "And I'm not trying to pull a Winchester and lie about it." You grinned and tugged on his arm. "I'd start feeling better sooner if you keep me company. You know, this is a great excuse to laze around with my boyfriend."

He wanted to argue. You could see it in his frown. However, Castiel, solider of heaven, could not say no to you. Damn your ability to make doe eyes at him.

Gingerly, you toed off your boots and maneuvered over for him to recline against your pillows. You pulled his arm around you and tucked into his side.

"Castiel." You looked up at him as he looked down at you. "I know what's going through that head of yours and I want you to listen to me." You reached up and cupped his cheek. "There is nothing you did wrong and it was not a wrong decision. Sam could have died. He needed to be healed much more than Dean or I did.

"You  all would be healed if I wasn't so useless."

"Stop." You placed your thumb over his lips. "You are not useless, my angel. Never. You have saved me, the guys, the world multiple times no matter the cost. Excuse my Dr. Phil moment but things have to get crappy to get good again." You tapped his bottom lip. "You're just on the struggle bus right now. We all take turns driving."

A tiny grin made its way out at your analogy.

"Besides, I'm not gonna let you leave me behind." You rearranged to drape your upper body over his chest and wrap a leg around both of his. "I am stuck to you like an octopus playing with glue." Your wide, mischievous smile cause Cas to chuckle and hug you close.

"You have such strange sayings Y/N."

"It got that smile back on your face. Actually," You burrowed your nose into his chest. "This position makes my back feel a little better. You're re really not going anywhere now."

A quick kiss was placed on the top of your head. "Whatever you say, my dear, uh, octopus."

Sure the giggling you did didn't help your injury in the least, but after hearing the happiness in your angel's laugh, you could deal with it.

#reader insert #castiel x reader #cas x reader #supernatural #drabble

[hollybell51]

An angel loved you

Navigation, Supernatural

Castiel x Goddess of life!Reader (but it could be gn)

Supernatural (2005), pre-canon

Request by @slayingyourmomrn

Hey I don't know if your taking requests (I'm kinda new to requesting) but I was wondering if you could do head cannons of Castiel falling in love with reader who is the goddess of life? X

Word count: 1.4K

Content: very little to be warned about, maybe some vague body-horror-ish stuff (angel true forms) and mentioned/implied sexual content.

Notes: I love this idea so much! I haven't done head canons before, so I'm not actually sure how this went, and omg i had so many ideas! I ended up going with the one that worked most comprehensively as this format, in pre-canon, and I'm honestly not 100% happy with it but I'm also a perfectionist trying to be ok with things that aren't my magnum opus (you can tell lmao). Either way, I tried, I hope this is ok!

Life is old, almost as old as God and Amara. Definitely older than an angel, even the first angel ever created 

Earth was your favourite place to be, purely because there was so much life everywhere – single cells dividing exponentially, then clusters of cells all striving to grow, then the first real creatures, algae and lichen and fungi and plants, then fish and amphibians and reptiles and finally mammals and, of course, humankind

You loved watching humans grow and cultivate the land, almost as much as God himself

But with that came fighting, and killing, and destruction. You’d met Cas after such a slaughter, you didn’t remember which one, but there were angels and demons involved and you hated it. Hated how humans got caught in the crossfire of heaven’s battles as much as you hated the purely human violence

You’d never seen an angel who didn’t look totally content and exalted with any of heaven’s actions, but there he was: shoulders of his human vessel slumped, wings hanging limply all around him, many eyes rolling slowly over the world, brilliantly sharp rings spinning slowly around his core

You’d approached, a little hesitant, and had eventually voiced your own sadness at the destruction

The angel seemed surprised, then wary, but had agreed with you: it was senseless and costly, and the humans in the middle did nothing to warrant being caught there

After that first conversation (maybe too rich a term, since it had consisted mainly of you simply standing next to him, just coexisting) he’d come back to find you, wherever you were, and gradually you’d begun to seek him out wherever he was somewhere you could reach 

As a goddess, you didn’t feel things the way humans did. You were ancient, after all, and that kind of thing took a long, long time

It was at the close of world war two that anything had really happened between you and him

You were mourning the genocide of an innocent people, Castiel was chafing against heaven’s refusal to do anything about it – despite the obvious rise in demonic power and the evil of the whole thing 

He’d come to you, frustrated (though not yet rebellious) and had sought comfort in your presence, you in his 

“Do you think we can feel?” he’d asked, uncertainty tainting his ethereal glow. “Angels aren’t supposed to, but I see them suffering, I see them dying and I… I want to stop it from happening.” 

“I don’t know,” you’d said after a pause. Uncertainty and doubt were not things angels were supposed to experience. You didn’t even know that was possible until you’d met Castiel, but you supposed any prototype was going to be different. 

“Do you?” he’d asked, rings clicking and whirring

“Feel?” 

“Yes.”

You’d thought about that, then nodded. The ache at your centre when you looked over the mass graves and shredded, bloody uniforms was feeling, certainly. The warmth when you watched children playing in a garden was a feeling. Even the tingling heat inside you when Castiel was around, lower and deeper, was a feeling. 

“I’m feeling now,” you’d said. “Are you?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s… confusing. I don’t know how they deal with it every day.” 

You’d laughed at that. “I don’t think they do.” 

A couple of floating, glowing eyes had spun to focus on you, blinking slowly. Then something soft had brushed against your form and you’d looked down to see a wing sliding over you, gentle and almost… nervous?

You didn’t need to actually breathe, but you sighed anyway. It felt good to touch him, to have him touching you. You’d leaned into the wing and brushed what passed for a hand over it, and the two of you had stayed like that for a long time

Things had continued as per usual after that, but you touched more often. His form couldn’t hurt you, goddess that you were, and you liked not being confined to a human’s perception. He saw you as you were, as you really were, and you saw him too. Rings, wings, many heads and eyes and limbs, the whole shebang. 

Maybe you’d been spending too much time among humans, maybe you should have gone back to your roots on one of Chuck’s newer and younger worlds, or headed down to the simpler environment of the ocean or a forest

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere near the turn of the century, you realised that you loved Castiel, really loved him. It wasn’t like the love you felt for humans and plants and animals and life, either, it was hot and hard and roiled low inside you like hot syrup. And once the thought had occurred, you couldn't get it to go away

It was around this time that you melded your form into something substantial, still a goddess, but taking on a human appearance. It was heading into a harder time for gods and spirits, with new deities of money and technology and power and greed taking over. And climate change was wreaking havoc on your strength too, something Castiel seemed to realise – he was certainly spending more time with you

“I just feel so powerless all the time,” you sighed as you perched on one of his rings. The head of a deer stared back at you, then you blinked and it was a lion with snakes in its mane 

“You’re not powerless,” he told you. “I think other than God, you’re the most powerful being I’ve ever met.” 

“Thanks, Castiel. I just… I just wish that I was one of them, sometimes. Do you ever wish that?” 

Silence, then, “sometimes. I think it would be a lot simpler.” 

“Mhm. Just get born, grow, have babies, die. So simple.” 

He’d hummed, and the ring under you had cooled infinitesimally. You’d sat in silence for a while, then he’d asked, “do you really wish you were one of them?” 

“Huh?” 

“You said you sometimes wished you were one of them. Did you mean it?” 

You’d really had to think about that. It would be nicer, living a short life like that. Experiencing childhood. Falling in love with a person like you, marrying them, having a child. Growing a garden by hand and watering it every day. Cooking food because you needed it. Then dying when you got too old and life became too tiring. 

But then you’d only ever get to see what was in your lifetime, and on your limited plane of existence. You wouldn't get to watch a single cell turn into two, you wouldn’t remember the first fish crawling out of the sea, wouldn’t have met an angel, and certainly wouldn’t be sitting on him right now. 

“No,” you said, “not really.” You’d patted the ring under you, wobbling when a shining wing pushed at your back. “Besides,” you’d smiled, pushing the wing back. “I wouldn't get to do this.” 

“You’d be obliterated.” 

“Yeah. You’d have to find a vessel, and then I wouldn't be able to sit on you.” 

“I wouldn’t even know you existed if you were one of them,” he pointed out. 

“Maybe you’d be one too.” 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t like to be.” 

“Why?” 

“I wouldn’t get to see you.” 

That had flawed you for a second. 

“I love you too much to exist without knowing you.” 

You’d just smiled, reached out and taken a hand near you. “I love you too, Castiel.” 

After that, you were practically inseparable. You floated outside your form sometimes, with him, just to feel him on you, around you, in you. Sometimes, when he took a vessel, you’d share intimacy the way humans did

You discovered a love for sex with Castiel, in human form, where you could still see the rest of him beneath the surface and feel his grace all over you and inside your whole being 

You’d tell him you loved him, and he’d say it back to you, and sometimes you’d just get stuck in a cycle of “I love you”’s until one of you either flickered and became insubstantial, astronomical, ethereal, or was shut up by the other’s lips. Either way was fine with you

You were the goddess of life, and you were living, and you loved an angel. And an angel loved you. 

Taglist form here

#supernatural #castiel #cas x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #spn #headcanons #oneshot

[octoberclidan]

Dances with Team Free Will - Castiel

Request: So the boys probably never had the opportunity to go to school dances, right? I mean in that one episode about when Dean was living in that boys' home I think he was about to go to homecoming and then John showed up to pick him up.

So what if reader throws a sort of mini prom/homecoming for each member (separately) of tfw? How would each one react?

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Dean's Version

Sam's Version

Note: full disclaimer, school dances aren't really a thing in my country, so I don't really know what they're like, but I've done my best!

Story:

"Hey, Cas?" [Y/N] asked as she set some grocery bags down at the kitchen table in the bunker. She was just back from her turn of doing the supply run. The boys were all sitting at the table enjoying a drink, and Sam hopped up immediately to help her start putting the shopping away.

"Yes?"

"Were you on earth at all in the 90s?" She asked him. He looked slightly confused but nodded anyway.

"Yes".

"Really?" Dean asked, setting his beer down. "What did you look like in the 90s?" Cas turned from [Y/N] to Dean to answer his question.

"I inhabited a female vessel from the late 1890s to the early 1900s, I told you that before Dean".

"Cas", Sam spoke up after closing the refrigerator door. "When someone says the 90s, they mean the 1990s". Cas looked confused and Dean chuckled at him.

"Why would I assume a specific century?"

"You just do", Dean shrugged at him then looked over to [Y/N]. "Why'd you ask?"

"I passed by the local bar on my way back, they had a poster up, there's gonna be a 90s themed dance tonight". She sat down opposite Cas at the kitchen table. "You never experienced school dances, or any sort of dance, right?"

"That's correct", he nodded at her.

"Great, well, now's your chance! My high school always had decade themed dances, and I used to love them. You'll come with me tonight, won't you?"

"Um", he looked between the Winchesters for any sign of what he should say, but they just looked at him with amused expressions. "I don't know-"

"Of course he will", Dean interrupted him with a slap on his back. "He's always wanted to go to a dance, right Cas?"

"I um-"

"Perfect! We'll leave at 8. I'm sure Dean can help you figure out what to wear", she smiled at him and stood up from the table, not giving (a now even more confused) Cas the chance to respond. She left the room and he blinked after her before turning to Dean.

"What exactly does this mean?"

Dean smirked over Cas' head at Sam, who was walking over to the table to join them, before looking back at Cas. "It means you're going on a date".

"You have to dress like they did in the 90s", Sam added.

"The 1990s", Cas confirmed hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah the 1990s", Sam chuckled. "You're probably gonna have to go buy something, though a suit and trenchcoat is pretty timeless".

"Don't worry, we can head out and find you something, you have to make an effort for her", Dean stood up and motioned for Cas to follow him. "We are so taking photos", he laughed to himself as he left the kitchen, Cas following behind him and Sam watching the two of them leave, chuckling to himself at the thought of them shopping together.

***

[Y/N] had showered and was in her room getting ready. She was excited, she'd been looking for an excuse to get Cas on his own and spend some quality time with him. She knew that neither Sam nor Dean would want to come to a 90s themed dance, so she was sure she wouldn't be interrupted. She'd had a bit of a crush on Cas for awhile, and he was incredibly difficult to read, so she wanted to see if there was anything there between them. She slipped on a skirt she'd found in a thrift store in town earlier that day, as well as an old t-shirt and her denim jacket. She looked up 90s hairstyles and make up looks and was attempting to recreate them while not going overboard - she still wanted to look good.

Giving herself a final look over in her mirror, she took a deep breath and nodded to herself. She was suddenly feeling pretty nervous. She grabbed her purse and left the room, making her way to the bunker's map table where she'd find the boys. She smiled when she walked in to find all three of them waiting, and she almost didn't recognise Cas. He was wearing light blue jeans and a slightly oversized sweater. She'd never seen him look so informal, and despite the comfortable nature of the clothing, he looked anything but comfortable. Dean whistled at her as she walked over, and she rolled her eyes at him. "Hey", she smiled at Cas.

"Hello", he said back. Dean nudged his arm and Cas cleared his throat. "You look nice". She couldn't help but blush at his compliment, even though she could tell that Dean had told him to say it.

"Let's get going", she turned to Sam and Dean. "We won't be back too late".

"Have fun", Sam smiled at her and nodded to Cas, who began walking up the steps to the door.

"Wait, holdup", Dean walked over to them. "Wouldn't be a real dance without some photos of the two of you together. C'mon, Cas you stand behind [Y/N], hold her waist", [Y/N] blushed as Cas pressed up behind her, grabbing her waist and looking to Dean over her shoulder. "That's it. Smile, both of you", Dean held up his phone and quickly snapped a few photos, a smile of satisfaction on his face when he nodded to them and put the phone into his pocket. The Winchesters watched them leave, and immediately began talking about whether or not Cas was going to relax at all.

***

It wasn't too busy at the bar. Several people were up dancing to popular 90s songs, and a few others were sitting around at tables. "Come on", she said to Cas as she spotted a free table. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards it, and they both took a seat. "What do you think?"

"It's very colourful", he said, looking around at the decorations and everyone's outfits. "Was the 90s always this loud?"

"In bars? I don't know, I wasn't really old enough to go out partying in the 90s", she shrugged at him. "Do you want a drink?" She asked and he nodded, paused for a second as if he'd just been reminded of something, then quickly stood up.

"I'll get drinks, do you want what you normally get or are you supposed to order something from the 90s?"

"My normal drink is fine, thank you", she smiled at him and he walked over to the bar to order their drinks. She looked around, it definitely wasn't like her old school dances, but the music brought back fond memories of her life before hunting monsters. She watched Cas as he waited for the drinks, wondering what he was thinking about, wondering if she would be able to convince him to get up and dance with her. It was odd seeing him in such casual clothes, he just blended into the environment. Well, almost. He was still a lot stiffer than the people laughing and dancing around him, and his blue eyes were easy to spot in the crowd.

[Y/N] and Cas sat and drank for awhile. It was a little bit awkward at the beginning, usually Sam or Dean would act as a buffer between them, but after awhile she noticed Cas start to relax a bit more and allow himself to smile as she told him stories of her old school dances and everything she used to get up to back then.

"Speaking of dances", she took one last sip from her drink, "are you ready to get up and have some fun?" She stood up and held her hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow but decided to take her hand, and followed her out to where others were dancing. He didn't quite know what to do, so for a moment he just stood there while [Y/N] started to dance to the music. She giggled at him, he looked so lost, so she grabbed his hands and began to pull him around in a circle, and though he didn't quite know why, he was enjoying it. He began to try keep up with her, and he began to laugh as they danced clumsily around the room, trying to avoid bumping into those around them. After awhile she grabbed the sides of his sweatshirt and pulled him closer, wrapping her hands around his waist and looking up at him. Instinctually, his now empty hands landed on her hips, and they slowed down to a gentle sway.

"That was.. fun", he said, smiling down at her. "I didn't really know what to expect, Dean said something about making sure I 'make a move', and I guess we just did a lot of moving".

[Y/N] giggled and leaned her head on his chest. "That's not what he meant about making a move", she said, smiling to herself. Cas took a moment to think about what Dean could've meant, trying to think back over the conversations they'd had in the past. He took a step back and pushed [Y/N]'s shoulders back so he could see her face, and without wasting more time, leaned down to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gripped his sweatshirt either side of his waist and his hands slid up to cup her cheeks. She was pleasantly surprised when Cas slipped his tongue into her mouth, he was a much better kisser than she had imagined him to be.

Pulling back, Cas looked down to her. "Was that okay?" He asked.

"Yes. Yes, that was more than okay. Was it okay for you?"

"I liked it very much", he smiled at her.

"Would you like to kiss me again?" She asked hopefully, and felt both relieved and excited when he nodded and leaned back down to press his lips to hers again. She was so glad she'd spotted the poster earlier that day, and that Cas had agreed to come along. She wasn't looking forward to Sam and Dean's inevitable interrogation when they'd go home later, but for now, she was just going to tune out everything but the feeling of Cas' lips on hers.

The end.

Dean's version

Sam's version

Castiel Taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #castiel fanfiction #castiel fic #castiel #cas x y/n #cas x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn fluff #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #fluffy

[fanfictionalraven]

Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly. 

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing. 

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other.  There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks. 

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all.  “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table. 

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead. 

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something  I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you –,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

**

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment. 

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #sam winchester #mary winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #cas #castiel #right where you left me #dean x waitress

[supernaturalfreewill]

reader pronouns: she/her "Cas, man... you've gotta stop overthinking with that weird angelic brain of yours for just a second!" Dean said. "What do you feel for her?"

The angel hesitated, his dark brows furrowing deeply over his cobalt eyes. "I—I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel."

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, slightly exasperated. But he knew this was all new to the angel. "It's not about 'supposed to'. It's about what you do feel. Here—I want you to answer this next question without thinking, okay?"

He looked skeptical as he stared at Dean.

"Just say the first thing that pops up! Alright? Ready? What is the first thought that comes into your head when you see her?"

"That I love her," Cas said immediately. "Oh. OH." His blue eyes went wide as he looked at Dean, who only had a knowing smile on his face.

"See?" He patted Cas hard on the arm. "You do know."

Prompt: "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel."

#castiel #cas x reader #cas reader insert #cas x y/n #cas x you #supernatural imagines #castiel fluff #spn gif imagines #supernatural

[astr0exe]

Heyyy, I just like read all your fics, and was EXCITED to see that your requests are open. So I was wondering if you could comfort w/ John Price (Husband). Reader going home, from work or something, needing his husband and just some comfort after a bad day :3

And FLUFF make it FLUFFY

Please and Thank you!!

It might be sad but I've been single for a bit and need that relationship comfort again 😔

THIS TURNED INTO SOMETHING ELSE ?! BUT I ACC LOVE IT ICL <3 (this turned into some full in poem typa shit) also turned into gender neutral reader

Hey ml !! Ur so real for that i get it <3 cause same, messages are always open if anyone ever needs to talk 🫶🏻🫶🏻 ALSO ignore the fact I had like died im back ish been busy n really burnt out n watching the aus gp cause i have a problem

Husband!Price who just sighs softly, wrapping his arms around you as you slouch into his body as soon as you walk through the door. Not even taking off your shoes or coat, just clutching Price’s shirt tightly.

His eyes narrow at the waves of pure exhaustion which shows in your dull eyes. His strong arms are tight around you, keeping you grounded and protected. A safe space, where you can finally let your shoulders drop and the tears flow. A home where you can smile and laugh, a place where you know, that no matter what, you will be supported and loved. Because John has worked so hard on making sure you know you are loved, through everything he will be there for you. Those horrible days at work, the overwhelming stress you often feel, for every little positive and negative he will be there for you. Because you are his moon and he is your star.

“You’re safe my love, here in my arms you will always be protected.” John murmurs softly in your ear, his deep voice reverberating through your body and soul, the slow soft sigh that leaves your lips as your fingers untangle from his shirt, a quiet apology leaves you lips from the new found wrinkles on his perfect shirt. Everything about your husband is perfect in your eyes, his light salt and pepper hair which he blames on you lovingly, his smile which still makes your heart race and head spin even after being married for 5 years. In your eyes he can do no wrong, because he is your star. And you are his moon.

Your slight smile relaxes John, his eyes full of affection and love. He is enamoured and he is proud to admit that you, his husband, is the light of his life, his moon. He knows that through everything, you will always be together. The adoration you both feel for each other is immense, endless. Just like the moon and the stars.

The soft bed envelopes you both, the familiar comfort mixes with Johns hold perfectly, his body against yours as you both just lay down, unable to bring the words to fill the room. The love too pure for anyone to properly understand, no one will ever fully understand it, it’s far too complex for any love story. But it’s yours. The moon and the stars are always seen together no matter what. Forever and always.

#cod x reader #x trans male reader #cod x male reader #x transmasc reader #cod fanfic #captain price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod price #cod fic #john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #love story #soft fic #fluff #cas speaks #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader

[kaleldobrev]

Castiel Masterlist

A rebloggable Castiel Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. A mix between GN. Reader & F. Reader (Individual stories specified)

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Angels Are Watching Over You (1.4k) | Waking up from a nightmare and Castiel comforts you

Change of Heart, Change of Mind (Apocalypse World) (4.2k) | Y/N Winchester finds out that Apocalypse World Cas is their soulmate

The First Butterfly (1.9k) | You and Cas bond over your current interest in butterflies

Trying to use pick-up lines on Cas

Cas trying to impress you

Cas telling you he loves you for the first time

Catching Cas watching porn

Cas always watching over you

#castiel x you #castiel x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn drabble #spn drabbles #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural drabble #supernatural drabbles #supernatural one shot #cas x you #cas x reader #gn reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff #kaleldobrev castiel masterlist

[rubynationwins]

Kiddo (Completed Series)

Older Brother’s Best Friend! Castiel x Fem! College Student! Reader

Modern Day AU

Summary: What can a girl do when the guy she’s loved since middle school still calls her “Kiddo”? Well, maybe a night no one expected and a few too many drinks can change everything. Fluff, a lil’ Angst, & Eventual Smut

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (Smut)

Main Masterlist

#castiel x reader #castiel novak x reader #castiel fanfiction #castiel smut #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural smut #cas is intense #cas x reader #supernatural reader insert #castiel x reader smut #castiel x reader fluff #castiel x reader angst