#of course mom would like cas he’s got the dark hair and piercing eyes and air of authority just like dad he’s exactly her type

[werepires]

Fic in which Mary tries extra hard to bond with Cas to show Dean she supports him and their relationship, except that relationship doesn’t exist in the way she thinks it does and because none of them ever use their words Dean is now faced with the horrifying thought Cas might become his stepdad

#Dean Winchester psychological torture chamber #he starts to just retreat to his room whenever Mary and Cas hang out #trying to rationalise it like #of course mom would like cas he’s got the dark hair and piercing eyes and air of authority just like dad he’s exactly her type #I should be happy for them. for her #cas seems happy too I guess that’s all that matters #at least it’s not ketch anymore #and one day when cas is out he gathers his courage and approaches her about it #so he sits down next to her and Mary’s like oh he’s finally comfortable enough with me to tell me about his relationship #but instead Dean goes mom are you dating Cas #and Mary is like wtf Dean of course I’m not dating your boyfriend why would you think I’d do that #and it’s the spiderman meme of dating Cas #where both of them assumed the other is involved with him when neither of them actually are #txt

[itsthestutterforme]

Your Fault (Supernatural)

Summary: Mary Winchester had died and Jack is in the wind. Sam and Dean just finished burying her and Dean is furious. He takes it out on Y/N and Cas, which leads Y/N attempts to take her life. Dean manages to save her before she follows through. He tries to comfort her but she refuses, so they bring someone else.

Warnings: mentions of self harm, mentions of suicide, attempted suicide, mentions of suicidal thoughts, please do not read if any of these trigger you. And please check up on your friends. You never know what they are going through and refuse to tell anyone about.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam x reader, Castiel x reader, Jack x reader, Bobby x reader

--

You continue to pace back and forth in the study. "Pacing won't help anything," Cas states as he sits down at the table. "It helps my nerves, that's all that's matters right now." "How are you holding up?" Cas says, looking to you with concern weighing on his ocean blue eyes.

"What if they hate us, Cas?" "He can't hate you, Y/N. You're like family." "No, you're like family. I'm just.. I don't know what I am. You heard Dean, he said we were dead to him." "He's just in pain and he needs us," "We'll see." The door creaks open and the sound of the door closing echoes through the bunker.

Sam's face weighed with sadness, his forehead is absent of it's normal concern creases and his eyes were red and puffy. Dean on the other hand, his face was a neutral but the vertical crease between his eyebrows dipped. "Dean," you say, trying to hold his hand but he pulls away from you sharply. "Don't," he says before pushing past you.

"He just needs time," Sam says before approaching you. "Sam, I.. I'm so sorry." Cas says. "I know," Sam says softly before returning his gaze back to you. "I'll go check on Dean," Cas says before leaving the room. More tears escape Sam's eyes and you take his hand to lead his to his room. He follows you go the room and you close the door when you both lock in.

He sits on the edge of the bed and combs a hand through his hair. You stand in front of him and he looks up at you as he unravels before you eyes. You sit down next to him and his lips quivers. "Come here," you say, opening your arms and he leans into your shoulder. Your hold the back of his head and sobs into you.

The more time passed, the more intense his sobs became. Tears prick your eyes out of guilt and you lean your head against his temple. You were the support role for the Winchesters. The sound board of sorts. Even Mary came to your help for advice when she messed things up with the boys. She said that you knew them better than she did, well, the adult versions anyway.

You met the Winchesters through Bobby when you assisted with stopping the Leviathans and you just kept running into each other in various states. You were convinced that they were stalking you and they were convinced you were stalking them. You did not have any close family telling you to stop hunting, all you really had was Bobby. So you continued to find and go on hunts.

Soon enough, you ended up tagging along with the Winchesters and grew closer with each hunt. Sam is more in tune with his emotions, unlike Dean. Dean sees showing emotions as weak. Any other emotion outside of anger is rejected by him.

He was pissed at you and Cas, you knew it. And what's scares you is that you've never seen him that angry before, let alone at you.

The look he gave when he said if Mary was dead, that you were dead to him, sent chills down your spine. You love and depend on these boys. You would hope that the feeling would be reciprocated, but you're starting to question that. After thirty minutes of holding Sam and drawing circles on his scalp, he falls asleep.

You gently pull yourself away and kiss his forehead before quietly leaving. "You can't keep pushing yourself away, Dean," "Enough of this! Stop pretending to care! If you cared, you would have told me that there was something wrong with Jack ages ago!" "Hey, what's with all the yelling?" You ask, walking into the study.

"Sam is finally sleeping," you add. "How could he sleep after we just buried our mother?" "Hours of crying can drain your energy, believe me." You answer vaguely, not wanting to expose yourself.

"Why are you guys even here? It's clear what side you're on," "There are no sides here, Dean." "Yes there are. There's our side and there is Jack's side. Obviously, you're on his."

"You hated him from the beginning like some how he could control who his father was," Castiel defends. "And clearly I was right because she killed my mom!" Dean yells. "We don't even know the full story, Dean." You say. "I don't care about the whole story. It's about an eye for an eye now." "Dean, come on,"

"No, I think you guys should leave. Go somewhere else, anywhere else besides here." "You know that something goes wrong with the plan. Something always goes wrong," Castiel says. "Yeah, and why does that's something always seems to be you?" Dean snaps. "The angel with the bent halo and the leech overtook their stay," he adds.

"You don't mean that," you whimper with tears threatening your eyes. "I mean every single word." Dean snarks as he nears you. "Since Bobby introduced us, you were like a parasite trying to find it's host in us. No one else wanted you so you thought that we did. Sammy may have made you think that you're needed here but you're just a burgen. And that's all you ever will be," Dean spits.

A sharp pain pierced through your heart and you felt like you were going to be sick. "And you--" "Enough, Dean. You've said enough," Castiel snaps, knowing you were barely holding it together.

"I'll be gone by morning," you say softly before walking into your room. You close the door and lock the door behind you. Your eyes fall to the drawer where you hide your thin razor.

Everytime you relapse, you make the same promise to yourself saying that this is the last time and things will get better. But truthfully, things have only gotten worse and now you question if there's even a point from refraining. You slowly approach the drawer and open the top hatch to reveal the razor.

You take it's thin presence in your hand and smooth your thumb over it. You walk to the bathroom to take off your pants and pull down your underwear a little to see the other faint scars litter your butt and thighs.

You sigh and look at yourself like the filthy, disgusting scar that you were. Just as you were about to dig the razor in when I hear the door knob jiggle. "Y/N, it's me." Cas calls from the other side of the door.

The sweat from your palm makes the razor slicks and it slides right out of your hands. "Wait, no!" You watch helplessly as the razor falls down the unnaturally large drain. "Y/N, is everything alright?" Cas askss. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a minute," you call but fear got the best of Cas. He used his wings to fly into the bathroom and he sees your scars.

You quickly pull up your pants and buckle them. He opens his mouth to speak but you go off on a frantic tangent. "Castiel please don't tell them. If they find out that I'm doing this, they'll... they'll look at me like I'm some broken toy that needs fixing." "You are so much more than just a toy, Y/N," "It doesn't matter," "Stop dismissing yourself,"

"What can I say? I've been dismissed all my life, so I try to beat it to the punch." His face softens and he steps closer to you. "How long has this been going on?" "Since Bobby died,"

"That was yea-" "I know it was years ago but the pain is still fresh. I never got the chance to actually mourn him because I was busy helping the boys."

"Just please don't tell them," "Okay." You lean into his chest and he puts his head on top of yours as he hold you. He's less awkward than the first time I hugged him. "I'll pack my stuff tonight but can you drop me off in Boston. I've always wanted to go there." You ask. "Of course, if that's what you want." "Well what I want, I can't have. So this is the best alternative,"

"What do you want?" He asks, pulling away a little. "To escape," "Escape from the bunker or escape the world?" It's amazing how fast he catches on things now. He's come a long way from before. "Both," "Y/N-" "I'm fine, I'll be fine." "I'm sorry but I don't believe you. You've been suffering in silence while Dean takes out his suffering on you, it's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Castiel. But if you really care about me, then you won't tell them and you'll let me leave. You'll let me escape," you say pushing on his chest. "Promise me," you add. "I promise," he says reluctantly. "Good," you walk back into the room and take out your duffel bags.

You can feel his stare on you but continue to pack. "You deserve better than this," "I'm not too sure about that. Hey, you mind stopping by the grocery store to pick up some snacks?" You ask. He eyes you suspiciously before saying, "Alright." He opens the door and walks out. You wait until the bunker door closes to pull out your laptop and scroll through your files until you come across ImSorry.mp3.

You click on it and look at yourself talking. This wasn't the first time you've had these deep, dark thoughts. But this is the first time they're winning. This seems like the best way to stop your pain. It'll be painless. You wait a few minutes to become one with your intentions.

A shaky breath leaves your lips before standing from the bed. You press pause on the video and activate the algorithm you created to send out the mp3 file an hour from now.

You should be gone by then. You close the laptop and advance towards the door. You walk past the kitchen and through the study when you hear Dean say, "Where are you going?" You stop in your tracks, careful not to let a sob slip. You take a deep breath before walking up the stairs to go to the garage.

"Y/N, wait," he says. You close the door and pick a random car in the garage to take out. You slowly drive out to the nearest bridge. You pull off to the side and put the car in park.

You hop outside and hold onto the ledge as you peer over. The water gushes and hits the massive rocks on the sides. Judging by the height of the bridge, it would kill you on impact.

You inhale sharply before hiking one of your legs over the ledge. You swing the other leg over and cautiously stand up on the ledge. Strong gusts of wind push and pull your hair every which way. You open your arms and close your eyes as you let the wind tug your body closer to the water.

Your feet stayed planted on the concrete ledge and you inhale the wet, salty air from the water below. "I'm sorry, Sam," you whisper. You hear a familiar hum of an engine. You look over your shoulder to see Dean getting out of the car. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing!" Dean yells.

You return your gaze back to the water and you move one foot off the ledge. "Damn it, I didn't mean anything I said. I.. I can't loose you too, please." You turn away from him to hide your tears. "Please, Y/N." "It's time that I be with Bobby, now Dean," "No!" You lean forward and lift off the ledge with your back foot.

Your hair covers your face, preventing you from seeing anything. And that's probably for the best. Gravity gains control of your body and you tumble down towards the water when you feel a strong hand grab your ankle.

Another hand grabs your waist pulls you back onto the ledge. Your eyes meet Dean's wide green eyes.

He pulls you down so your feet are planted on the ground. "You actually jumped. You were willing to die because of something I said," he says in disbelief. He holds the sides of you arms with a firm grip.

"Let me go, Dean," "I can't," "You were more than willing to push me away, how is this any different?" "Because I need you alive. Damn it, I need you."

He squeezes my arms and you stare into his eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder at the water. He grabs your wrist and drags you towards the trunk of the Impala.

He lifts the trunk and grabs a pair of hand cuffs. He captures your wrists in the them and pushes you into the passenger side.

"Did you even think about us when you jumped?" He says sternly. You look out the window the entire ride back to the bunker. When he pulls into the garage, he lifts you out of the car and motions you to led the way back to the bunker's door. The door opens and there Sam and Cas stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"What happened? Why is she in handcuffs? And why did we get a I'm sorry video from you?" Sam asks frantically. You decided not to say anything and sit down at the table. Dean approaches them and tells them to go to the kitchen. He informs them of what you tried to do and Castiel was pissed.

"Im mean how can she be so selfish?" Dean snaps. "Selfish?" Sam repeats. He was about to say something else when Cas cuts him off. "You are such an asshole, Dean. She's dedicated more of her life and time to you both instead of herself. She hid her suffering and her pain to make sure you two were okay! She was hurting herself damn it, but of course you would give a damn about that!" Cas snaps.

"Cas," Sam mediates. "You have the nerve to shame her for having a big heart. I don't care if I'm dead to you because you blame me for Mary, you're dead to me for making Y/N believe that she'll never be good enough for you!" Cas spits. He pushes past them and makes his way over to Y/N long strides.

"Come on, Y/N, we're leaving." Cas motions you to stand up. You shake your head no and he adds, "You want to stay here?" "I don't know what I want, Cas, that's the problem."

"You should leave, put this -us- in your rearview mirror." Sam says, walking into the study. You shrug and lean your back into the chair. You lean your elbows on the table and rest your face in your hands.

"You could have told me, Y/N. You've been there for me more time than I can count. Let me help you." Sam says softly. "We can be there for you when you need it, Y/N. You just have to trust us." Cas says.

Sam pulls you in for a hug first and Cas followed suit. Dean walks into the study to see that they were hugging.

He didn't know what to do. He feels at fault for Y/N keeping to herself. He made everything about him and Sam and didn't think about how Y/N was holding up.

**

Even after Cas and Sam showed their support, you remained quiet. You appreciate their efforts, but nothing they can do is going to make you feel the closure that you needed to mourn Bobby.

You stayed behind with Charlie to make sure things went as planned on the flip side. Sam and Dean took Bobby to the hospital after Dick shot him in the head.

An hour after his surgery, he died and you never got the chance to say goodbye. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Dean asks Sam. "I really hope that it does." Sam says before looking to Cas. You were fresh out of the shower and in the process of pulling your hair into braids.

You heard a loud clash followed by the ground shaking. "Guys?" You rush out of the room and run to where you heard voices. "Sam? Dean? Castiel?" You call as you cough from the smoke entering your lungs. You swat away the smoke with your hand and continued to cough.

"We're alright," Dean says. The rest of them were coughing too and when the smoke and dust finally cleared, there stood Bobby in the middle of the dried twigs. Him in his favorite white and blue sea bass hat and the green rain jacket he always wore over his flannels.

"What are you idjits doin'! You know how many unwritten laws you're breakin' right now? Too many, that's how many," "Bobby?" You say in disbelief. "Hey pumpkin," he says with his face softening after yelling at the boys.

He knew you're past all too well and he tried his hardest to help you move past it. And here you are, right back where you started. Your body has a mind of its own and runs over to him. He reached out to smooth a hand over your hair and you gasp in disbelief that he was actually here.

"What happened to you, honey? I told you knuckle heads to take care of her," Bobby snarks. "I relapsed again, Bobby. I'm so sorry."

He holds the sides of your face and caresses the hood of your eyes with his thumbs. Bobby was not the physically affectionate type, but he knew that was the only way to show you that he cared.

"There's nothing for you to be ashamed about. You're human and you make mistakes." You duck your face to hide your tears from him and he pulls you into his chest.

You completely unravel and you sobs prevented your ability to breathe. You collapse to floor and Bobby followed you.

He cradled you into his arms and you sobbed into the crook of his arm. Bobby looks up to the boys and they stare at her. "What the hell happened?" "We don't really know. She's been in a rough patch, but we just don't know for how long." Sam says, watching Y/N's body tremble as she cries.

"You boys were suppose to take care of her," Bobby says. "We know, we-" "We failed her, I'm sorry, Bobby." Dean says, clenching his jaw. "Well don't tell me. Hug her and tell her you're sorry. And you better mean it, boy," he commands.

Dean reluctantly kneels down next to you and tugs you towards his chest. You lean your head into his collarbone and holds the side of your head. You sniffle a little but furrow your brow when you hear him sniffle. "I'm so sorry."

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. "Let's give em' a minute, we're all going to take some turns getting our heads out of ours ass. Come on," Bobby says, motioning the rest of the crew to leave.

#sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #castiel x reader

[big-wet-cas-eyes]

wings: day 3 of @starrynightdeancas 's 2k followers celebration ✨ (ao3)

when i saw the wings prompt, i didn't think i would end up writing meet cute au, but here we are (wc: ~2000)

Thursdays are Dean's favorite day to be at conferences. Usually, there's only a partial day of events, and some people skip it altogether. Once the conference is in full swing, he'll be busy bouncing from talks to lunches to happy hours to dinners with people he only sort of knows. But on Thursdays, he can breathe.

Conferences certainly aren't his favorite part of being a professor. He's kind of a homebody, so the travel and socializing is a little much for him, especially when air travel is involved. But he does like exploring new cities, so he makes the best of it.

That's how he finds himself wandering around downtown Thursday evening. The streets are bustling with the after-work crowd.

Dean pauses when he passes one of those huge angel wing murals that he sees all over the internet. There are a couple of teenage girls standing there posing and giggling. Dean chuckles, and once the girls run off, he snaps a picture of it. His best friend, Jo, loves gimmicky tourist things like that, so he sends the picture off to her, along with a wish you were here text.

"Excuse me, would you mind taking my photo? If you have a moment, of course," a deep voice asks him. Dean looks up to see a man standing there, looking at him hopefully and gesturing behind him toward the mural. He feels his jaw drop open for a second when his eyes rest on the man's face. He's gorgeous. Dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes that make Dean feel like he's melting into a puddle.

But Dean raises his eyebrow slightly when the question registers in his brain. This guy doesn't really look like the type to want a picture in front of a cotton candy-colored mural of angel wings. He looks to be about Dean's age. He's wearing a full suit with a trench coat on top, despite the summer heat. He realizes he's still staring when the guy clears his throat.

"Sorry for bothering you, I'll find someone else," the man says with a slight nod before beginning to turn away.

"No, no, wait, I'll do it!" Dean says, feeling bad for basically ignoring the guy while checking him out. "You just surprised me. Took my brain a second to process."

The man smiles at him. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he says, handing his phone to Dean. The camera app is already open.

Dean gives him a small smile back. "Not to be weird about it, but you don't really seem like the angel wing mural type."

"Ah, I'm not," he says dryly. Sensing Dean's confusion, probably, he adds, "I sent my daughter a photo of the mural earlier. She's been bombarding me all day with requests that I take a photo in front of it."

Dean smiles wider at that. The man's eyes light up as he's talking about his daughter, and Dean's smitten by how cute it is. "Totally get it, man. If my niece was old enough to text, she'd probably do the same to me." He thinks of little Mary, running around the house in a princess dress and fairy wings as Eileen tries to catch her. Maybe he should take one for her, too. "I've got you." He glances down at the guy's chest and adds, "Take off your badge first."

"What?" the man asks, clearly confused.

Dean pulls his matching conference badge out of his pocket. The lanyards attached to all of the badges this year are a horrid shade of neon orange. "This," Dean says, shaking it slightly, "Take yours off for the picture."

"Oh… thank you," he says, pulling off the lanyard and shoving it into a pocket of his trench coat. He walks in the direction of the mural. He turns and faces Dean, mouth in a straight line.

Dean snaps the photo and frowns. The dude doesn't look happy, despite the joy that was in his eyes when he mentioned his daughter. "Smile, dude! This is for your kid!" Dean says loudly.

The man huffs slightly, but then his mouth splits into a gummy smile, eyes crinkling at the edges. The smile is infectious, and Dean can't help the one that spreads across his own face in response. He takes a couple more photos before he gestures for the guy to come back over. He does and Dean returns his phone.

"Mind taking one of me? Looked at it long enough that I want to send one to my niece anyway."

"Yes, of course," the man replies, taking Dean's offered phone.

Dean smiles and poses (hands on his hips, like a superhero), and there's a good chance the picture captures the laugh that comes out when he hears the other man chuckle.

He walks back over and retrieves his phone. Then, he offers his hand for a handshake. "So I guess we're in town for the same conference. Dean Winchester. It's nice to meet you."

"Castiel Novak," he replies, grasping Dean's hair and shaking it firmly. "It's nice to meet you as well." He pauses for a moment, and his eyes widen with something that looks like recognition. "Dean Winchester. I just read your new paper, Bradbury and Winchester. It was fascinating."

"Hey, thanks, man," Dean says with a grin, "but if I'm being honest, almost all the credit for that one should go to my grad student, Charlie. She's the best."

"Well, it's a testament to your teaching that one of your students can produce such excellent research," Castiel says, and Dean blushes at the words. "I would love to be able to teach like that someday."

"Are you not a professor?" Dean asks. Maybe he misjudged the guy's age.

"No, I actually only recently completed my doctorate. It took a little longer than I'd hoped, but I had to take some time away from schooling for my daughter." Dean nods in understanding. A handful of people he knows had a baby during graduate school and it definitely did not make the experience any easier for them. "I'm beginning a postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Kansas next month, though."

"Oh, no way, that's where I teach!" Dean says. When he sees the glint of amusement in Castiel's eyes, he says, "But you already knew that. Because you just read my paper."

"I did. Different department than you, though. I'll be working with Professor Cain."

Dean smiles. "He's great, you'll like working with him." Before he can continue, Dean's stomach decides to punctuate his sentence with a loud grumble. "Uh, any interest in grabbing dinner? I'm starving, and I'd like to hear more about what you do if we're gonna be colleagues soon."

"Sure, I'd like that, Professor Winchester," Castiel says.

Dean scoffs. "You're uninvited if you call me that, Cas. Just Dean."

"Dean. Okay, let's go," he says, a small smile curling at the edges of his lips. They walk for a while, chatting a little about food and the city until they stumble upon a restaurant that sounds good to both of them.

Once they've ordered, Cas pulls out his phone. "I hope my daughter appreciates the picture," he says, swiping at the screen as he looks through the photos Dean took. He might have gotten a little carried away; there's a bunch. "I don't want to receive another photo of her pouting at me."

Dean chuckles. He pulls out his own phone to send his mural photo to his brother and sister-in-law. Cas also took a few, but he selects one where he's laughing extra hard. Took this for Princess Mary, tell her I love her, he texts to accompany the photo. "I'm sure she'll love it. How many pouting photos did you get?"

Cas hums, tapping a few times on his phone as Dean watches. "It appears… six." He turns his phone around to Dean. The name at the top of the text message thread reads Claire🐝 and he can already see two of the pictures. Cas's daughter, Claire, looks a little older than he expected. That, combined with the heavy eyeliner, doesn't make her seem like the kind of kid that would beg her dad to take a picture with an angel wing mural. Cas scrolls slightly and Dean sees a slew of please dad and you gotta! text messages, interspersed with more pictures of her frowning. It's kind of adorable.

"How old is she?" Dean asks.

"Fifteen," Cas answers. Dean opens his mouth, but closes it again when Cas continues, "I know, I don't look old enough to have a daughter her age. I get that a lot."

"Sorry," Dean mumbles. "No need to explain, I was just surprised."

Cas shrugs. "It's okay. Accidental pregnancy with my high school girlfriend back when we were both trying to convince ourselves that we were straight." Cas immediately blushes. "Sorry, too much information. I had already switched out of professional mode for the evening, and I forgot that we technically work together."

"You're in good company. No judgment from me. You won't be the only one out of the closet when you get there." He winks and then grimaces internally. He hadn't meant to start flirting.

Cas's eyes widen and then soften. "Thank you, Dean. I'm glad I haven't made a total fool of myself." His phone buzzes on the table and he picks it up. He smiles that wide, bright smile again, the one that Dean can't help but match. "Claire loves the photo," he says, turning his phone around. It's another photo of Claire, but this time she has the same bright smile on her face as her dad.

"She really wanted you to take that picture, didn't she," Dean says with a chuckle.

Cas nods. "She did. She's a sweet girl."

"Why's she love angel wings so much? She doesn't really… look the type, I guess," Dean asks, his curiosity finally winning out.

"The eyeliner phase is new. She's always loved angels, though. Her mother used to tell her angels were watching over her every night before bed, and I think that stuck with her."

Dean smiles. "My mom used to say the same thing to me. Definitely sticks with you," he says, as he pushes up the sleeve of his shirt. He holds his arm out to show Castiel the angel wing tattoo on his forearm, his mom's name and the dates she was alive in the middle. "Got this for her a few years ago."

Cas reaches out, brushing the edge of one of the wings. Dean shivers a little at the touch, but mostly just because of how soft and gentle Cas's hands are. "It's beautiful, I'm sure she would appreciate it," Cas says. "I think Claire's mom always said it because I'm named for an angel. Claire calls me her angel when she's feeling sentimental." Dean's not sure if Cas realizes that he's still tracing the edges of his tattoo. Honestly, he doesn't mind. The contact feels nice and he feels surprisingly drawn to Cas. His hand stays there until their food arrives.

The conversation shifts slightly, becoming more casual. They talk about their research, the talks they're planning to attend during the weekend, and a little bit about the university Castiel will soon call home. It's comfortable. Cas is really nice and interesting, and Dean's excited that it looks like he'll have a new friend when the school year starts.

A little voice in the back of his head hopes that he'll end up more than a friend, and Dean thinks the feeling might be mutual when Cas grabs his hand on their way back to the conference hotel.

#dailydestieldelights #destiel ficlet #destiel au ficlet #deancas ficlet #deancas au #my writing

[chipper9906]

Trip Down Memory Lane

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 8376

WARNINGS: Violence, Brief Mentions of Blood

Status: Oneshot- Complete

Summary/Preview: Castiel wasnt sure if he had even wanted to see what Dean's dream life would be. He could guess, of course. Such guesses usually consisted of Dean and Sam out on the road, stuck in a constant loop of driving, investigating, and ganking the monster they'd been tracking. It was what Dean was good at, and it was clear it made him happy.

He had never expected to see Dean living the dream domestic life, white picket fence and all.

And he never, ever, in a million years, expected he'd be a part of it.

* * *

When Dean is poisoned by a Djinn during a hunt, Castiel and Sam are tasked with entering Dean's mind and searching through until they find the dream world the Djinn had placed Dean in.This task requires them to search through some of Dean's memories, and Castiel see's something he never could have expected...

Castiel had been alive for billions of years. In that span of time, he had created countless memories of his time as an Angel, a never-ending storage of moments in his existence. His time with the Winchester brothers is an insignificant amount of time compared to the rest of his life, and yet, he can barely remember a time where the two didn’t need his help in some way or another.

Which was exactly what was happening right now.

"Cas? I-I-I need your help" The youngest brother's voice echoed around his head, the shaky manner in his voice freezing Cas in his movements. "It's... It’s Dean. He's in trouble"

Castiel was by Sam's side before he had even finished the prayer.

"What happened?" Castiel asks the second he lands, startling Sam from his crouched position on the floor.

Castiel senses the dead body off to the side, and for a moment his heart seems to stutter in his chest, thinking that it may have been Dean. To his relief, this proves not to be the case, recognizing the slowly fading magical traces of a Djinn in the room.

"There were two," Sam tells him. "We thought we were only hunting one. The second took us by surprise after we killed the first and had us tied up. I managed to get free and took care of it, but Dean..."

It's then that Castiel sees the body laying on the floor that Sam had been crouched by.

"They got him, Cas. Poisoned him. Dean, he's... This has happened before and he figured it out. Got himself out, I mean. But... He's taking a while this time. I don't know if-"

"If he'll wake up," Castiel finishes grimly, crouching down to Dean's side and placing a hand on the elder Winchester's head. "He's weak. Do you have any idea how long the Djinn has been feeding off of him?"

"I have no idea," Sam answers. "I’d been out of it for a while. I don't know if they wanted to take their time feeding or just...Finish in one feeding."

"I'm inclined to believe it was the latter."

"Can you... Can you heal him?" Sam asks desperately.

"No," Castiel answers somberly, his answer deflating Sam's hope. "But... I might be able to help him out of his state."

"How?"

"I'm going to have to enter Dean's mind, to try and find the hallucinatory dream the Djinn has placed him in. With a little push from the outside... Hopefully, he'll find his own way out."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. But it might take some time, as I'll have to skim through his memories until I find his dream state. It'll be kept hidden away."

"Is there any way I can, you know... Go in there with you?"

Castiel looked slightly taken aback by the request, tilting his head to the side slightly and regarding the youngest brother with narrow eyes and furrowed brows.

"You want to go in there with me?" Castiel asks for clarification.

"Yeah, I do. So that... I don't know, maybe I can help pull him out of it? I just... I can't sit here and do nothing while Dean's trapped in his own mind."

"I can take you with me Sam, but... The experience might be painful. And I don't mean physically. There are some memories you might not want to see, and... I have no way of knowing what Dean's true 'desire' may be, and how that reflects in the dream world the Djinn has created for him."

"I don't care," Sam responds defiantly, "I have to help. I just have to."

"Okay," Castiel relents, giving Sam a respectful nod. "You may want to prepare yourself for this."

Castiel lifts a hand to place his fingers on Sam's forehead, then reaches out with his other hand to gently place it onto Dean's head.

It was as if someone had flicked a light switch. One second, they're kneeling by Dean on a dirty and damp warehouse floor. The next, they're bathed in blackness, with no clue as to where they were.

"Okay..." Sam breathes out uncertainly, spinning around to take in the emptiness around them. "So... How do we find Dean's dream?"

"With trial and error, unfortunately," Castiel tells him, also glancing around at their surroundings. Suddenly, Castiel places a hand outstretched in the air, holding it there for a moment and furrowing his face in concentration.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, Castiel clenches his fist, which begins to shake with the effort. A low rumbling fills the air, and for a moment, Sam expects for the blackness to close in around them, like a collapsing building.

It's not what happens, however. Instead, the blackness in front of them seems to shift in place, one solid color merging into a blurry moment, almost like a shimmer, moving in place and glinting at them from the darkness.

"Come," Castiel instructs Sam, already making his way over to the shimmer. Sam doesn't need to be told twice, obediently following Castiel.

They come to a stop in front of the shimmer, hesitancy coming from the both of them.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Castiel asks Sam once again.

"The more time we hesitate, the less time Dean has," Sam responds, swallowing nervously. "We have to do this."

Castiel nods at this, and then reaches out a hand to touch the shimmer in front of them.

Suddenly, they're both stood inside a cozy-looking hallway of a house, Castiel still with an arm outstretched, shimmer no longer to be seen.

"You think this could be it?" Sam asks Castiel, spinning around to take in their new surroundings.

Before Castiel can answer, a young boy goes speeding past them, not taking in their appearance in the slightest, rushing into a room down the hallway they were stood in with a delighted giggle.

"No. This isn't it." Castiel answers sadly, already preparing to summon the next shimmer.

Sam's about to ask him how he knows when a young blonde-haired woman walks out of the room the boy had come from, an exasperated yet fond look on her face as she chases the young boy down.

Sam's sharp intake of breath distracts Castiel from his task slightly momentarily, sympathizing with the pained look on his face.

"Mom?" Sam calls out, sounding unsure with himself as he watches her disappear into the room.

"She can't hear you," Castiel tells him apologetically. "No one will here. No one but the real Dean"

"Was that... A memory version of Dean?" Sam asks, referring to the little boy that had run past them moments before.

"Yes, it was. I think... I think this was the night that..."

"Get us out of here." Sam quickly demands, already knowing what Castiel was about to imply.

It's as Sam is forced to watch a much younger, much happier looking John Winchester round the corner and approach his family that Castiel manages to summon the next shimmer. It's the last thing he sees before everything blinks out of existence once more.

If he had known the next memory they would fall into, he wouldn't have left the last one quite so soon.

Burning. That was the first thing he noticed. The unbearable heat that surrounded them, no way of escaping from it. Everything was coated in a haze of red, and screams filled with agony echoed from every direction.

One stood out, however. A shrill, piercing scream, coming from right beside them. A woman was laid out on a table, bound down with metal chains that tore into her skin as she pulled against them, desperate to get away from the knife that sliced its way through her body.

Sam found it hard to believe this could be Dean's dream or his memories. Not when the bearer of the knife was Dean himself, cutting into the screaming woman with expert precision.

"Is this-?"

"Hell," Castiel answers for him, an unusually pale color appearing on the angels face. "This was Dean in hell."

Thunder booms from ahead, and the two of them look up the sound at the same time Dean does. The thunder fades away, and for a moment, it seems that nothing else would happen. Then, a ringing sound fills the air, and the screams get louder.

No, not louder. There were more screams.

The screams of countless demons being smited.

Flashes of bright white light appear outside the closed door to the torture room they were in, and all three remain frozen, listening intently as heavy footsteps make their way towards the door,

"This could be-"

Castiel doesn't have enough time to tell Sam what he thinks it is, as the door is flung open before he can finish his sentence.

Well, flung open isn't completely accurate. More, the entire door is blown off its hinges, the two of them ducking way from the shattered metal door whilst Dean remains stoic where he stands, knife still in hand.

Then, stood right in front of them, is Castiel.

"This is when I rescued him from Hell." Castiel finally finishes, watching his memory self stood in the doorway.

Memory Cas's eyes were alight with grace, the reddish light emitting from the room casting the shadows of his wings against the walls.

Memory Castiel strides towards Dean, and it's no surprise that Dean lashes out, striking Memory Cas across the chest with his knife. Of course, it doesn't phase him in the slightest, and Memory Cas flicks his wrist to send the blade flying across the room, regarding Dean with an almost amused expression,

"You have no need to fear me," Memory Cas declares. "I am not here to hurt you. I'm here to free you."

"Yeah?" Dean responds snarkily, a sneer on his face as he looks to Memory Cas. "Well, can't exactly say I believe you."

"Please don't fight this," Memory Castiel asks of him. "It is my mission to recover your soul and place it back in your body. You will need to find your brother, Samuel Winchester-"

"Sammy?" Dean asks, the harsh tone they had heard him speaking in since they had got here reverting to a much softer, innocent-sounding voice.

"Yes, Samuel Winchester." Memory Castiel repeats, sounding somewhat confused. "I will be in contact with you shortly after. Do you understand?"

Dean glances over to the knife that had been thrown across the room, seemingly debating something. Memory Castiel watches him patiently, waiting for his next words.

Dean slowly lifts his gaze back up to Memory Castiel’s. Their eyes meet and, seeing no dishonesty in the angel's eyes, Dean gives a small nod of his head. Memory Castiel gives him a small smile, the corner of his lips barely twitching upwards before he's reaching out a hand and placing it on Dean's shoulder.

"Sam," Castiel calls out, startling Sam from what he was witnessing, looking over to the real Castiel, who had summoned yet another shimmer. "We need to move on."

The next scene they find themselves in appears much calmer. At first, that is. They appear inside an old, beat-up looking wooden barn, it's walls and roof covered in different painted symbols. In the center of it were Dean and Bobby, leaned across a table that had been laid out with various hunting weapons.

"I... Don't recognize this hunt," Sam tells Castiel "Why is Dean on a hunt with Bobby and not me?"

"This wasn't a hunt," Castiel tells him, and Sam is slightly surprised by the tender smile on Castiels face as he looks around at the barn. "Not completely, anyway..."

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asks Bobby, already getting fidgety. Bobby gives him a bitch face in response to this that rivals Sam's, and Dean looks away with a roll of his eyes. "Sorry... Touchy, touchy, huh?"

Mere seconds later, the barn erupts into a cacophony of noise and movement. Loud bangs emit from the roof of the barn, slowly making its way down to the end, the sheets of metal acting as the barn's roof being pushed up and down from the unknown force, adding to the overall noise. Dean and Bobby give each other anxious looks, both of them grabbing shotguns from the table and standing ready, guns aimed down at the barn doors.

"The hell is that?" Sam asks Castiel, looking fearfully between the banging roof and the closed doors.

"I didn't exactly have the most graceful of entrances," Castiel replies sheepishly. "I, uh... Might have missed on the landing..."

The doors to the barn are pushed open, an all too familiar trench coat clad figure making his way into the barn. The second the doors begin to open, the lights above them brighten and shatter, showering Castiel in sparks as he advances towards the two.

"Holy shit..." Sam mutters in awe

The sounds of gunshots fill the air as Bobby and Dean fire their shotguns, each hitting their marks. Memory Cas's trenchcoat is torn apart from the spray of the shells, yet he continues towards them like it wasn't even happening.

It was rare for Sam to see Dean when he was frightened, and this was one of those rare times. As he rightfully should, after watching Castiel take the brunt of those shots without a flinch.

"Who are you?" Dean asks Memory Cas, unconsciously backing away from the imposing figure.

"My name is Castiel," Memory Cas dutifully answers. "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Yeah?" Dean asks, the sarcasm in his tone eerily similar to the one he had in Hell. "Thanks for that"

Clearly not hearing the sarcasm in Dean's tone, Castiel nods in response to Dean's 'thanks', a slight smile on his face.

Dean charges forward, planting the knife into Cas's chest, clearly aiming to pierce Cas's heart. Sam startles slightly, not expecting for Dean to take action quite so soon.

Of course, Sam knows it won't do anything to Cas. After all, the real Cas was stood right next to him, alive and well. It was still shocking to see though, especially when Castiel looks down at the knife in his chest with the most amused expression he thinks he's ever seen from Cas.

"Not the best of introductions to Dean." Sam jokes to Castiel, watching Bobby attempt to knock Cas out with a crowbar, only to be knocked out himself with just the touch of Castiel’s fingers.

"Maybe but... I won't forget it." Castiel says with a fond smile, shaking his head and turning away from the scene in front of him. "We need to keep moving"

It doesn't take long for Castiel to find the next shimmer, checking over his shoulder that Sam was ready before grabbing hold, throwing the two of them into the next memory.

"Uh... Cas?" Sam calls out to Cas, the hair on the back of his neck standing upright the second they arrive in the new memory. "Where are we?"

"A place almost as bad as Hell," Castiel tells him, hating the familiar feeling that settled in his gut as he looks around at the forest that surrounded them. "This is Dean's time in Purgatory."

"Huh..." Sam breathes out, eyes shifting around their surroundings. "This is Purgatory? Dean, uh... Doesn't talk about it much."

"I don't blame him. This place, its...A place you wish you could forget."

"If this is Dean's memory, then... Where's Dean?" Sam asks, only able to see the endless stretch of trees in front of them, not a person nor monster in sight.

"On his way." Cas tells him, raising an arm to point at something in the distance.

Now that Cas had pointed it out, Sam realized they were near the edge of a river, just about able to hear the gentle rush of the river as it flows past them. And there, crouched by the side of the river, was Cas. A dirty, roughed up, bloody looking Cas, scrubbing away the dirt underneath his fingernails in the river, then trying to wash away the dirt that caked the unkempt beard growing on his face.

"Cas!"

Their attention is drawn away to the yell coming from within the forest, an equally dirty looking Dean erupting from the trees with the vampire, Benny, in tow.

"Dean?" Memory Cas seems to say mostly to himself, almost as if he was struggling to believe that he was really hearing Dean, that he had somehow managed to find him.

"Cas." Dean repeats again, elation clear on his face when it sinks in that he finally found Cas. He laughs openly in relief, not at all taking in the look of dread on Memory Cas's face as he approaches.

Dean still has a huge smile on his face as he yanks Cas towards him into a hug, slapping a hand against Cas's back.

"Damn, its good to see you!" Dean tells him, smile not leaving his face for a second as he raises a hand to brush across the hair growing on Castiels face. "Nice beach fuzz."

"Thank you."

"You should meet somebody," Dean quickly continues, realizing that Castiel had no idea who the person lingering nearby was. "This is Benny. Benny, this is Cas."

"Hola," Benny says in greeting

"How did you find me?" Castiel asks, not in the mood for introductions

"The bloody way," Dean replies, and Castiel needs no further explanation. "You feeling okay?"

"You mean-?" Castiel begins as he raises a finger to his head and making a circle.

"Yeah, if you want to be on the nose about it, sure."

"No. I'm perfectly sane. But, then, ninety-four percent of psychotics think they're perfectly sane, so I guess we'd have to ask ourselves, 'what is sane?'" 

Sam can't help but snort slightly at Cas's response.

"That's a good question," Dean says, looking slightly befuddled by the answer he got.

"Why'd you bail on Dean?" Benny questions, knowing full well that Dean wasn't going to ask himself.

"Dude-" Dean reprimands him, proving Benny right.

"The way I hear it-" Benny continues ignoring Dean. "-You two hit monster land, and hot wings here took off. I figure he owes you some backstory."

"Look, we were surrounded, okay? Some freak jumped Cas. Obviously, he kicked its ass, right?" Dean immediately jumps to Castiels defense.

"No."

Sam hadn't even been there at that time, can't even begin to imagine all the shit Dean had to go through just to get to Cas, and even then, hearing Castiels dejected, ashamed answer pained Sam as much as he knew it had pained Dean.

"What?" Dean asks, hoping he had heard Cas wrong.

"I ran away." Cas admits to him, keeping his eyes on the ground, too ashamed to meet Dean's gaze.

"You ran away?"

"I had to-"

"That's your excuse for leaving me with those gorilla-wolves?"

"Dean-"

"You bailed out and, what, went camping?" Dean interrupts with a demanding tone, nothing but disbelief etched onto his face. "I prayed to you, Cas. Every night."

"I know..."

Now, looking at the real Cas stood next to him, Sam could see the same agonized look of shame that was reflected on Memory Cas's face.

"You know and you didn't...." Dean trails off, and it hurts Sam to see the betrayal on Dean's face. "What the hell’s wrong with you?"

"I am an angel in a land of abominations. There have been things hunting me from the moment we arrived." Castiel attempts to explain himself

"Join the club!" Dean shouts in agitation

"These are not just monsters, Dean. They're Leviathan! I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to-" Castiel suddenly stops in his rant, pausing briefly to swallow nervously before he continues. "-To keep them away from you"

Just like that, the rage that had been growing on Dean’s face slips away, softening into a look of realization.

"That's why I ran. Just... leave me, please."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's roll." Benny agrees, sounding happy to leave Cas as soon as possible.

"Hold on, hold on," Dean stops him, looking over to Cas, pleading. "Cas, we're getting out of here. We're going home."

"Dean, I can't-"

"You can. Benny, tell him." Dean says, looking to Benny behind him.

Benny doesn't look all too happy about where this was going, but complies anyway.

"Purgatory has an escape hatch, but I got no idea if it's angel-friendly."

"We'll figure it out," Dean insists, returning his pleading gaze back to Cas in front of him. "Cas, buddy, I need you"

"This isn't it," Real Castiel interrupts, hand already outstretched towards the next shimmer, choosing to look down at the ground in front of Sam, rather than re-live the memory in front of him. "The next ones ready."

This time, he doesn't bother to ask Sam if he's ready, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. There's nothing Sam can say in response before the memory, and the forests of purgatory, disappears around them.

For a split second, Sam is comforted by the fact that they were now back on Earth. It doesn't last long, as he takes in the dreary, dark room they found themselves in, Memory Dean and Castiel stood in the center of the room, Dean holding what looks almost like a block of cement in his hands

"Oh no..." Castiel mutters in horror, having been dropped into a memory that was somehow even worse than the last.

Sam, meanwhile, was left feeling quite frustrated, constantly being placed into memories he is unable to recognize, at the same time feeling guilty for watching said memories, that he has no right to see.

"I can resupply the prophet, Dean." Memory Castiel insists, stepping closer to Dean.

"You know, why don't, uh, why don't Sam and I take it over to him, and you can get back to your mission?" Dean retaliates, looking slightly nervous at the way Memory Castiel advanced towards him. "Finding the other half of the Demon Tablet. That is priority, isn't it?"

"I can't let you take that, Dean." Castiel informs him sharply

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both."

"What the hell is happening?" Sam asks, the tension in the room starting to make him feel nervous.

"One of my biggest regrets." Castiel answers bitterly, struggling to find the next shimmer to get them the hell out of there.

"How did you get out of Purgatory, Cas?" Memory Dean asks, holding the block closer to himself.

An odd sort of look crosses Memory Cas's face at the question, looking but not seeing at Dean.

"Just tell me how you got out of Purgatory-" Dean continues when Castiel doesn't answer. "-Be honest with me, for the first time since you've been back-" Dean continues, breaking eye contact with Cas to nod down at the block in his hands. "-And this is yours."

Sam wasn't too sure what he had been expecting to see next. More silence from Castiel? Some sort of bleak response?

Either way, the sight of the angel blade sliding out of Memory Cas's sleeve and into his hand is enough for Sam's heart to jump into his throat.

"Cas. Cas, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but if you're in there and you can hear me, you don't have to do this." Dean begs, eyes drawn to the blade in Memory Cas's hand.

His pleas go unheard by Memory Cas, who launches forward to strike down at Dean with the blade. Out of reflex, Dean shields himself with the block in his hands, and the clang of metal against the stone echoes in the thunder from outside.

"Cas!"

"Cas, the hell..." Sam mumbles in shock, watching the scene unfold in front of him in despair.

"Cas, fight this! This is not you! Fight it!" Dean yells in desperation, hoping to get through to Cas.

It doesn't work. Memory Cas attacks once again, bringing his blade down hard once more, only to be deflected by the block in Dean's hand.

It seemed almost as if the blow had affected Castiel more than Dean, who stumbled back away from Dean, a pained look crossing his face

"What have you done to me, Naomi?"

"Who's Naomi?!" Dean asks the same time as Sam, as Memory Castiel folds over on himself, panting in apparent exhaustion, fighting something that Dean and Sam can't see.

"It wasn't me..." The real Cas mutters mostly to himself, eyes scrunched closed, refusing to watch the horror he knows is about to occur.

Worried, Memory Dean cautiously approaches Memory Castiel, placing a hand on his shoulder. This proves to be a mistake, as Castiel immediately strikes Dean across the face at the touch, sending Dean sprawling backward.

Memory Castiel makes his way over to Dean, who was unsteadily getting to his feet. Dean tries to defend himself, throwing a punch towards Cas, who quite easily catches it. With a steady grip on Dean's forearm, Castiel twists it harshly, snapping the bone clean in half. Dean yelps out in pain and drops the stone, which shatters into pieces as it makes contact with the hard floor of the crypt.

"The angel tablet..." Sam realizes, not sure whether to look at the violence he was seeing, or the obviously distraught Castiel, who was still trying valiantly to find the next shimmer.

It pains Sam that there's nothing he can do. Nothing but watch as Castiel’s fist meets Dean's face again and again and again, fresh cuts and bruises appearing with every hit, skin being broken from the force of every punch.

"You want it?" Dean asks, noticing Memory Castiel’s attention had changed over to the Angel tablet next to him. "Take it! But you're gonna have to kill me first. Come on, you coward...Do it. Do it!"

Castiel’s attention is brought back to Dean, returning his fist to Dean's face once more.

"Cas... This isn't you. This isn't you." Dean's voice is broken, the intense pain beginning to overtake him. Castiel strikes again, face showing no sign of what he was doing.

"Cas...Cas..." Dean calls out Cas's name in a weak beg, shaky hand reaching out to the angel in front of him. "I know you're in there."

The limited light in the room glints off the angel blade that Memory Cas had raised above Dean, the sight of which made Sam want to look away, to pretend he had never seen what he was seeing.

"I know you can hear me, Cas," Dean's voice breaks slightly, whether from the pain or the emotion of it all, Sam doesn't know. "It's me. We're family... We need you..."

There's no emotion on Memory Cas's face as he looks down at the beaten Dean in front of him, blade hanging just above his head. A stark contrast to the pure agony on the real Castiels face.

"I need you."

"Enough," The Real Castiel declares just as Memory Cas's blade slips out of his hand, clanging against the floor. Sam tears his eyes away to see that Cas had finally found the next shimmer. "I can't..."

"It's okay," Sam comforts the pained looking angel, making his way over to his side. "Come on. Let's go find Dean"

The next place they find themselves in, it's... Well...

It's enough to raise their suspicions immediately.

They had been dropped right in the middle of a fairly ordinary-looking suburban neighbourhood. A beautiful day as far as the weather, deep blue sky with perfectly fluffy white clouds floating lazily past up ahead, no sign in the least of any rain to come.

In front of them stood a two-story house, it's wooden panels painted a light blue that blended nicely with the deeper blue backdrop of the sky. The house was placed in front of an obviously well looked after garden, neat lines mowed into the vibrant green lawn, with various flowers lined against the side, a single bee house tucked away in the corner of the lawn, a few bees buzzing around their man-made home.

And then, sat in the driveway of the home, was a car that Sam would never be able to mistake. The afternoon sun gleamed off the Impalas pristine black paint job, and laid out underneath her was Dean, sweating profusely as he worked on his baby.

"Cas... Do you remember this?" Sam asks, searching around for anything he might recognize.

"No..." Castiel answers, sounding as unsure as Sam did. "Do you?"

"Not one bit. Do you think this could be it?"

"Perhaps. Dean looks the same age he does now, so it seems unlikely that this is an event that occurred before we met... The only possibility I suppose is the time Dean spent while you were in Hell, but... This doesn't look like the house of Lisa Braeden... "

"We found it?" Sam dares to hope, relief clear in his voice.

"I think s-"

"Daddy!"

A young boy with a nest of light brown hair and crystal blue eyes rushes out of the front door of the house, running full sprint towards the Impala. Dean pushes himself out from under the Impala, a huge smile appearing on his face at the sound of the boy's voice.

"Hey, Kiddo," Dean greets him brightly, grunting as the wind is knocked out of him when the boy practically launches himself at Dean. "What'cha doing out here?"

"Can I help you?" The boy asks with puppy dog eyes that Sam swears he's seen before...

"With Baby?" Dean clarifies, looking over his shoulder to the Impala with a raised eyebrow. "Hmmm... I dunno... You think you can be careful with her? She's sensitive."

The boy giggles in delight at Dean's words, nodding his head vigorously in response.

"Come on, Dad..."

"This is... Definitely it..." Sam notes, an odd sort of feeling settling in his chest. "I... I never knew that...This is something that Dean wanted. I always thought..."

"I don't think he always wanted it..." Castiel says, watching Dean interact with his fake son, trying to figure out why seeing them almost seemed to hurt. "He got a taste for this kind of life with Lisa and Ben, and I don't think he's ever really been able to forget it..."

Then, what happens next, Castiel has no explanation or answers for.

"How did you get away when you're under such watchful eyes?" Dean asks his son, smiling at the mischievous giggle he gets in return.

"Because he takes after you just a bit too much."

Out from the open front door steps Castiel. No longer donning his suit and trench coat, now instead clothed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a simple button-down shirt, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching the two with a tender smile.

Castiel wasn't sure if he had even wanted to see what Dean's dream life would be. He could guess, of course. Such guesses usually consisted of Dean and Sam out on the road, stuck in a constant loop of driving, investigating, and ganking the monster they'd been tracking. It was what Dean was good at, and it was clear it made him happy.

He had never expected to see Dean living the dream domestic life, white picket fence and all.

And he never, ever, in a million years, expected he'd be a part of it.

"You're just jealous he likes me more." Dean retaliates, mischievous grin matching the one on the child sat on his lap.

"Stop trying to make our son choose favorites." Cas reprimands jokingly as Dean stands from the floor, lifting the boy in his lap up by his armpits, getting another giggle from the action.

"Because we all know who it is..." Dean whispered, which made Fake Castiel roll his eyes.

"You nearly finished up out here?" Fake Castiel asks Dean, holding out his arms for their son.

"Yep, shouldn't take too long," Dean replies, passing the boy in his arms over to Castiel, who holds him close. "You want me to cook tonight?"

"I think I got it."

"Oh really? That's what you said the last time. You know, when you nearly burnt the house down?"

"I did not nearly burn the house down. The fire alarm did its job, I was alerted to the fire, and it was dealt with."

Dean gave a sarcastic hum in response, reaching for a rag placed in a nearby toolbox to wipe the oil off his hands.

"How about we bake your dad a pie?" Fake Castiel asked the boy in his arms, who squealed in delight at the prospect.

"I wanna make pie!"

"I think that's that, then." Fake Castiel directed towards Dean, smiling smugly in victory.

"You go call your Uncle Sammy from upstairs if you smell smoke," Dean instructs his son, pointing a fake stern finger at him as he speaks. "You got that, James?"

"Can Uncle Sammy help us too?" James asks, tilting his head back to look at Fake Castiel "Please...?"

"Of course he can." Fake Castiel assures him, planting a kiss on Dean's cheek before he makes his way back inside, James still held tight in his arms.

"Go rescue your uncle from all those books!" Dean calls out after them, chuckling lightly to himself as he turns back to continue work on his car.

"Wow..." Sam exclaimed quietly, feeling like he had become winded all of a sudden. "This is...Something..."

Noticing Castiel’s silence, Sam glances worriedly over to him. Castiel’s eyes were trained on Dean, watching him live his fake life with a look of sadness and regret.

"Cas?" Sam calls for him softly, not wanting to startle him. "You alright buddy?"

"I never knew..." Castiel mumbled, shaking his head slowly "I... I had no idea..."

"I get what you mean," Sam emphasized, able to see the shadows of Fake Castiel and his son move around the inside of the house. "I can't believe that in all of this, Dean included me."

"What?" Castiel asks sharply, snapping out of his trance to look at Sam incredulously. "Sam, you were the only person I was sure I would see in Dean's dream."

"Look, me and Dean, we...We don't always see eye to eye with certain things. We don't always tell each other everything there is to know, and this? This is one of those things. I mean, I don't exactly fit into this kind of life that Dean... Wants?"

"We don't have time to talk about this right now," Castiel breaks the brewing discussion, moving his gaze back over to Dean. "We need to get Dean out of here."

Deans hunting instincts are as keen as ever, lifting his head from under the Impalas hood the second he makes out their approaching footsteps, spinning around to see the newcomers, posture relaxing once he realizes who it is.

"Hey hon," Dean greets Castiel with a warm smile, eyes shifting from Castiel to Sam. "James managed to drag you away, huh?"

"Um...." Sam began awkwardly, looking to Castiel for help. "Not exactly..."

The happy smile on Deans face faltered slightly, a more bewildered look crossing his face once he studies Castiel closer.

"Didn't even realize you still had that thing," Dean noted, raising a hand briefly to point at the trenchcoat Castiel was wearing. "And how did you get changed so fast into it anyway?"

"Dean..." Castiel began gently, dreading what was to come.

"Wait, where's James?" Dean suddenly seemed to realize his son was not with them, looking panicked and worried by the realization. "Wasn't he with you?"

"Dean, I need you to listen to me," Castiel instructed sternly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "This is going to be difficult for you to hear, but you have to remember."

"Remember what?"

"Dean, none of this is real," Castiel decided the best approach was to 'rip the bandaid off', metaphorically speaking. "You and Sam were hunting a Djinn up in Washington. Something went wrong."

"There were two, not the one like we thought," Sam adds in, cautiously moving closer to his brother. "We had no idea. He snuck up on us after we dealt with the other. Do you... Do you remember that part?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were captured, Dean. Both you and Sam. Sam managed to get away, but... The Djinn poisoned you, Dean. All of this, it isn't real. It's what your mind fabricated for you."

"Djinn," Dean breathes out in disbelief, glancing over to his house behind him, thinking over something in his mind before looking back to the two of them.

"What... What if it is real?" Dean stuttered out. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized genuinely, recognizing just how happy Dean had been in his dream world. "I really am, Dean."

"I hate what I'm about to say-" Sam interjects, forcing Dean to break eye contact with Castiel to look over at this younger brother. "-But think about it. When are we ever going to get to live this kind of life? C'mon Dean, escaping the hunters’ life, it... It just doesn't happen. Not for us."

"Dean, you're in a bad state. That Djinn drained you, and it might not be long before you fade completely, especially trapped here." Castiel informs him.

"But..." Dean tried to argue, unconsciously trying to move towards the house. "My... My son, I can't... I can't just leave him."

"You won't be leaving him." Castiel consoled Dean. "He was never there. Simply a vision created in your mind. You're not leaving anyone, Dean. The people who will miss you, those that are real? We're out there, Dean. If you don't get yourself out of this, it'll be us you're leaving."

Castiel could see the fight drain out of Dean, shoulders slumping, his whole posture shrinking down. Without another word, Dean slinks over to the back of the Impala, lifting up the boot.

"Dean, I-"

It's all Sam can get out before Dean pulls out his pistol from the back of the Impala, not an inch of hesitation as he lifts the gun to his head and pulling the trigger, throwing all three into a startling blackness with a loud bang.

Sam blearily opens his eyes, sluggishly turning his head to see Castiel slowly coming to himself, shaking his head in an attempt to shake out the remaining grogginess.

It felt as if they had been reliving the memories for hours, but from the looks of it, barely a minute had passed. The warehouse they had been in looked as dark and dreary as ever, and worst of all, Dean still laid unconscious on the floor.

"Dean?" Castiel calls out worriedly, sluggishly pushing himself onto his knees and leaning over Dean's form, placing a hand over his shoulder and giving him a light shake.

With dramatic timing only Dean could master, he shoots upwards with a gasp, startling Cas who quickly leans away to avoid being hit by Dean's sudden awakening.

"Oh, Thank Christ..." Sam mutters appreciatively, standing on shaky legs and stumbling over to Dean.

"You alright man?" Sam asks him as he holds out a hand to Dean.

"I've been better." Dean responds truthfully, spending a few seconds with his eyes closed, sat on the dirty floor as he waits for the spinning to stop before eventually grabbing onto Sam's hand, who yanks him up to his feet.

Castiel looks like he doesn't know what to say, and frankly, neither does Sam. Judging by the look on Dean's face, he'd much rather go with this never being mentioned for as long as he lived, but it was a discussion that was inevitable not to occur.

For now though, it wasn't what mattered.

"C'mon, bud," Sam says gently, slapping a hand on Dean's back. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Thankfully for Dean, Sam and Castiel were too busy being mother hens over his health the first few days to bring up what they had witnessed in the innermost hidden parts of his mind. A few days of bed rest were enough to get him back on his feet, and then, it became an avoiding game.

Any time he saw Castiel coming down the hallway or entering the room, he would simply do a one-eighty and escape the situation as soon as possible. He didn't even know if Cas was actually trying to speak to him about it, but Dean wasn't taking any chances. Not when it came to this.

Really, he should have known that trying to ghost an angel of the Lord wasn't going to work forever. Castiel had been respectful of his wishes the past few days, but clearly, something had snapped and he had had enough.

Which is why one early Thursday morning, as he snuck into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, relieved to see its only occupant was an exhausted-looking Sam, Castiel had teleported behind him, tapping his fingers against Dean's head the second he had jumped and turned, teleporting them both away before Dean can get a word in edgewise, leaving a poor, bewildered leaving Sam at the kitchen table.

Dean felt the usual sickening pull of the world around him which usually accompanied angel flight, then the ground came back into existence under his feet. Castiel didn't say a word once they landed, dropping his hand away and taking a few steps back, keeping his eyes locked on Dean at all times.

"Cas, where the hell-" Dean begins to ask, trailing off as he takes in the familiar building Cas had dropped them into. "Wait a minute, is this...?"

"Where we first met," Castiel clarifies, joining Dean in scanning the dilapidated barn. "The first time you remembered, anyway. At least, that's what I thought..."

"The first time I remembered? What are you talking about?"

Castiel sighed softly, wandering over to a table that had been pushed up against the wall, its wood rotting and weak from the torrential downpours of rain that had slipped through the panels of the barns room. Castiel gently traces a hand across its surface, pushing down firmly to check its weight before hoisting himself up and taking a seat.

"Do you know how a Djinn crafts its victim's fantasies?"

Dean immediately tenses up the question, while knowing that the conversation would eventually lead to this, was still not prepared for it.

"Not really."

"The Djinn mostly relies on its victim's memories in order to do so. It's essential that the victim believes in the dream that's been created for them, to keep them placated right up until their death. Using the victim's memories means that Djinn's poison can get every necessary detail correct. Without those memories, it's not possible."

"What are you getting at, Cas?"

"Getting you out of that world wasn't as simple as 'jumping right into your dream,'" Castiel explained, making quotation marks with his fingers as he speaks. "Sam and I had to delve through your memories in order to find you."

"Oh..."

"I had to try and find a common detail in your most active memories. That is, where there was the most activity in your brain."

"...Coz those memories are being used to make the dream, right?"

"Correct. I don’t know why it took me so long to figure out... Mostly because I... I never thought it was possible."

"Never thought what was possible?"

"The first memory was simple enough. A tragic night, yes, but that wasn't the focus of the memory. It was of a happy family, nothing more. The others though... I just didn't understand it. In all of them, you... You were in pain. You were hurt, or you were scared, I just couldn't grasp why they were the memories you chose."

"Cas, buddy, at the moment, you have a better understanding of my head than I do."

"No, I don't, Dean. If anything, I've never been more unsure. Each and every one of those memories, the link was right there, but I could never see it... Me."

"Cas..."

"Me, rescuing you from hell. A memory that, I thought had been lost to you. Me, introducing myself to you and Bobby, in this very barn. Me, running from you in purgatory. Me... Nearly beating you to an inch of your life. All of that, right there in front of me, and yet... I still did not anticipate that in your dream world, I would be there. Not just there, but..."

"Don’t say it..." Dean whispers, eyes clenched shut and shaking his head. "Please, don't..."

"You might be fine pretending this never happened Dean, but I'm not," Castiel snapped, pushing himself off the table and storming towards Dean. "I get that you're a secretive man, Dean. That you don't like talking about how you feel-"

"So then you know why-"

"Not for this. Never for this," Castiel disputed, deflecting Dean's attempt at an explanation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't I tell you?" Dean gawfed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Gee, I don't know, Cas? Maybe because I couldn't come to terms with it myself? Maybe because if I told you such a fucking batshit thing, you might tuck tail and run, and I'd lose my closest friend?"

"I would never leave you," Castiel asserted, taking a step closer to Dean to drive home his statement. "You know I wouldn't. Not after all we've been through."

"What would I say, Cas?" Dean asks, words dripping with sarcasm. "'Oh, hey Cas! Just thought I'd let you know that things have been different lately, and I've been thinking of you as more than a friend. As in, I can't get you out of my damn mind, and there's jack-shit I can do about it, other than sit here and think about what it would be like if my life wasn't so fucked up. You know, the kind of vision where we're just two normal fucking people, living in a normal fucking house with a kid of our own, and that above all else, we're happy.' 

But no, why should I tell you that? Why should I bother, when I know that this is the life I live, and there's nothing I can do to change that! When I know that even in the damn slim chance that you see me as anything but a friend, that I could ever settle down into a life where-"

Dean isn't able to finish his rant, as Castiel interrupts it by grabbing a fistful of Dean's flannel shirt, twisting his hands into the soft material around the collar. Dean's words trailed off into a stutter, briefly wondering whether Castiel was about to strike him in an attempt to shut him up.

Which is, perhaps why, the reason his whole body freezes up when instead, Castiel yanks him closer, coming dangerously close to clashing their teeth together in his haste to feel Dean's lips against his own. His shocked gasp is muffled by Castiels mouth on his own, and his brain seems to have stuttered to a stop, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Castiel’s lips move against his own, an invite to actually participate in the kiss he had initiated. The movement at least helps prove to his shell shocked brain that yes, this actually was happening and that he should probably do more than just act like a dead body in this situation.

Dean decides the best course of action was to shut down his brain for the moment. No more questions, no more doubts. It was just himself and Castiel, and that's all he had to focus on right now. It does the trick, as he feels himself sink into Castiel’s hold, every wound up muscle he didn't realize he had practically melting against Cas's touch.

A deafening clap of thunder rings from outside, accompanied by a bright flash of white lightning. It doesn't take long after that for them to hear raindrops hitting hard against the beaten-up metal roof of the barn, the torrential rain pouring through the gaps and doing quick work of soaking the two.

Dean pulls away from Castiel with a weak laugh, shaking his damp hair of the rain and glancing up to Castiel with a dopey smile.

"This you?" He asks Cas, pointing up to the storm that seemed to appear from nowhere.

"I thought it would add to the atmosphere." Castiel jokes with a deadpan expression, though it quickly breaks when Dean cracks up into laughter, shaking his head fondly before pulling Castiel closer to him, burrowing his face into Castiels shoulder and wrapping his arms tight around the angels back.

"Dean, you know I would love nothing more than to give you that life," Castiel tells him as he raises his own arms up to envelop Dean in a hug. "Even if I wasn't a part of it, I want to see you live your life without hunting, without all that fear and responsibilities."

"I don't think you're getting the main part of it, Cas. You said it yourself, my brain was relying on memories of you. It wouldn't be my dream life if you weren't in it, Cas."

"Dean, I... I might not be able to give you a home, or a son of your own. But... If this, if us is something you really want, then I will spend the rest of my life doing what I can to make you happy, Dean."

"I don't need all that stuff to make me happy Cas. The bunker is my home now, and as long as it’s got you and Sammy in it? I'm happy."

The rain continued to pour down on them, the flimsy roof of the barn proving next to no cover from the storm Castiel had created out of thin air. Dean pulled away from Castiel’s embrace slightly to peer up at the roof, wincing as the droplets of water fall into his eyes.

"Uh, Cas? We should probably be heading back now..."

"Right, of course, I almost forgot you can feel the cold..."

"That and, you know, Sams probably gonna think you tried to drown me in a lake once we get back..."

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #castiel/dean winchester

[yn-dreamlife]

Omega

Alpha!Cas x Omega!reader 

Warnings: asshole cas (in begging), degreasing, angst, protective dean and Sam, ABO dynamics, fluff

Description: upon first meeting Cas thinks of you as nothing more than your presentation, he quickly learns you are much more than that and can only hope to one day gain your trust and friendship, maybe even more. 

Me, Sam, Dean and Dad where all in a wear house lined from top to bottom in every single sigil we could think of and yet the roof still shuddered and the wind still howled as the oncoming threat came closer. instinctively the three alphas stepped closer to me to protect me, yet still gave me my space. Even though I was an Omega they knew I could handle my own. 

Suddenly the doors burst open and in walked a man clearly an alpha. He had bright blue eyes and scraggly black hair that seemed perfect on top of his head, his face was hard and unreadable the tan trench coat flowing behind him slightly. He had on a suit which quickly became littered with holes as shot after shot was fierce into him, but nothing happened.  He walked up to Dean and grinned wickedly when dean stabbed him, again nothing. “What the fuck are you?” I gasped, never had any monster surpassed every sigil, every trap, and every fighting tool you guys had. 

“Nothing of your concern, Omega.” The way he growled my presentation out made me hate it even more. 

“Watch it asshole, that’s my daughter.” Dad growled at him. The dark haired man rolled his eyes. 

“She is of little importance to me, as she holds no real purpose, besides bringing alpha pups into the world.” Everyone growled around you, he wasn’t just shaming your presentation anymore he was shaming your exsistance. And these men weren’t gonna let that slide, but nether was I. I taught every omega urge in me to submit to the overpowering alpha in front of me.

I squared my shoulders growling lowly baring my teeth. “I don’t know who you think you are waltsing in here and insulting me but you’re talking to the wrong fucking girl if you think I’m gonna sit here and take it like a good little bitch. Because I’m no ones fucking bitch in heat, I’m certainly not going to gravel at your feet like you are some god.” I spit the words out like bile.

He had a look in his eye now I couldn’t place. Suddenly lighting flashed and giant black wings showed behind him. “I am Castiel angle of the lord.” He spoke on a low voice, I once again had to fight my inner omega.

“Well mr angle of the lord you can kiss my ass if you think I’m gonna sit here and take your bullshit. What the fuck do you want?”

Cas’ p.o.v

I stared at the omega girl with interest, she wasn’t like others. She didn’t automatically submit to me which slightly angered me but even more than that in enticed me, my natural curious nature making me want to learn more about her.

I liked that she didn’t take as she called it my ‘bullshit’ even though I in fact was not carrying any excrement from a bull. I explained why I was here and to no ones shock they weren’t very willing to help.

[i know this isn’t the first hunt Cas went on or why he came just go with it please]

Your p.o.v

I rolled my eyes as we headed to a wearhouse. The angle boy needed help with some demons so we decided to help. He handed us something I quickly dubbed as an angle blade cause well it was it had the ability to kill demons so I was pleased to have it knowing I could also kill any angle dicks.

Dad decided to go home since demons always upset him after mom died. We walked into the wearhouse and of course it was to quiet. Castiel said something about being able to sense them I call bullshit because the next thing I know were surrounded.

I don’t think before I move charging at two coming up behind the angle quickly taking them out. “Don’t just stand there move!” I yelled at him. I saw him move into another room and followed after him to protect him while he got out the people we needed to rescue. He was healing them and undoing there bounds while I killed demon after demon.

It hurt slightly because there where people inside them. But I pushed the thought down it was to late now. Suddenly Cas grabbed the people and disappeared.

“Freaking angles.” I muttered believing he left us for dead I came out and saw Sam and dean both where struggling so I went up and started helping not noticing the two demons behind me. Suddenly I heard two body’s collapse and I looked to see Castiel had killed them with his hands. I nodded my thanks and kept going.

“How many more?!” I yelled at Castiel.

“None other than the ones in here.” He said simply. Once we finished then off I rushed outside to find the people my omega instincts kicking in. I walked over to the two omegas and the small children calming them quickly. I then moved to the alpha who was clearly scarred. I let out my scent once I noticed he wasn’t repulsed by it and gently purred trying to calm him. Once he was calm and no longer shaking I looked around to see everyone else was standing around me all looking calm even the angle.

“What?” I asked not understanding, I had only helped the one alpha so who helped the other three.

“You-“ Sam was cut off by dean.

“You managed to calm four raging alphas at one time!” He said shocked pulling me into a tight hug. I heard a low growl looking for it I saw the alpha male behind me growling at dean. I didn’t notice he wasn’t the only one.

I smiled at him “don’t worry this is my pack.” I said softly he nodded realizing that there indeed was no danger to me.

We returned them all to there homes Castiel erasing there memories or at least hiding them. He looked as if he was going to speak to me but I held my hand up walking away, I was still mad at him for the way he treated me.

We go back to the motel and the angle comes in saying we all did very well and he was great full. I didn’t look up so I didn’t notice the intense stare he gave as he spoke, the boys noticed realizing he was trying to tell you mainly.

After a while the boys where taking there stuff to the car or well dean was I think Sam went to get food and I have no idea where Angle boy is. I was hoping to snag the front seat before Sam could.

“She’s an omega Dean, she shouldn’t be in this line of work!” I rolled my eyes at the sound of Castiels voice through the door. Was he still on that even after I saved his ass?!

“She’s tougher than most alpha hunters I know! You should know that from how she saved you!!” I heard dean protest I knew the angle was making him mad and I smirked it triumph.

“She should be protected!” I heard the gruff voice of the angle once again.

“She is, but she also protects!” This time it was Sam who spoke, I didn’t even know he was out there.

“You two don’t understand she-“ I decided I heard enough and opened the door.

“You heard them, and don’t think I won’t kill you or anyone else who doubts me myself if anyone ever doubts me again because of my presentation.” I gave him a cold glare holding my chin up high. Ignore the pang I felt when he fixed me with a cold look.

I hated how Part of me wanted nothing more for him to hold me, hated the part of me that was drawn to him.

Years later your p.o.v

I woke up to a silent bunker which was very odd indeed, the boys wouldn’t still be asleep at this hour and they would be causing some sort of commotion had they been here. I pulled out my phone deciding to call Sam.

“Where are you?!” I yelled into the phone.

“Geez y/n/n calm down me and dean just went for a small hunt figured you could use some time away from us for a while before your heat.” He stayed calmly

I grumbled about them at least leaving a note since we all knew I hated being woken up. I said my goodbyes and hung up the phone and as always the silence brought a certain pair of piercing blue eyes to my mind. I hated how I was drawn to him, how his scent was everything home was suppose to be. How I craved his touch and wanted nothing more than for him to claim me.

But he made it very clear where I stood in his mind even if he had changed. The first words he said still where seared into my mind. I knew he only saw me as my presentation. An omega, as one I was suppose to be weak, submissive, loving, but I wasn’t I was as hot headed as an alpha. “Oh Castiel if only you could see me for how I truly am.” Suddenly he was standing in front of me.

“Baby you know I do.” He stayed simply. I jumped up a hand covering my heart.

“Geez angle boy don’t do that and don’t call me baby!” I scolded ignoring the way my heart fluttered. I saw him tilt his head but I merely rolled my eyes and walked away asking what he was doing here over my shoulder.

“I heard you say my name I thought my beautiful omega needed me.” I rolled my eyes grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with water.

“No even though I may be an omega I don’t need help thank you very much. And I’m not your anything. ” I stared him right in the eye. The omega in me cowered at the thought of my upsetting this alpha who I needed so desperately but I would not back down. No matter how much I wanted to please him and see that amazing smile.

“What are you talking abo-“ I cut him off in rage.

“really your gonna pretend you don’t know?! Cause I seem to remember you seeing me as nothing more than a- hm let me think oh right! An omega who holds little importance and has no purpose in my life besides bringing an alphas pups into the world! Do you remember that?! Because I do! There’s not a night that your words don’t echo in my mind! Even though I saved your ass that day you never once apologized yeah I know I didn’t give you the chance that day but to be fair you never really tried any other time.” He stared at me and his expression was unreadable he went to speak but I continued my mouth moving before I thought of what I was saying.

“And the worst part?! I still need you! I still want you to want me like I want you! I want you to crave my touch and attention the way I do yours! I want you to see me as more than my status I want you to just-“ I was cut off by lips being pressed against my own.

But as soon as it was there it was gone. “W-wha-“ I was cut off again this time with words.

“Listen.” Much to my distaste I obeyed the omega winning and listening to the commanding tone of the blue eyes alpha in front of me. “I was wrong. When I first met you I was wrong, you are so much more than an omega. You have a greater purpose that I was to blind to see. I have craved your touch and your scent the day after our first hunt. I wanted to apologize I wanted to do anything to at least get you to look at me the way you do Sam or dean. I mean for fathers sake I wanted you to look at me as more than you did them, I wanted you to be mine but not only that I wanted to be yours.” He cupped my cheeks “but I’ve already told you that, that’s why I have your claim mark and you mine.” He whispered pulling his shirt collar down to show me.

I shook my head this isn’t real I was dreaming. I wasn’t gonna waste this dream.

“Prove it.” I whispered he stared at me wide eyed but it seemed to dawn on him what I meant. He came over to me his one hand cupping my face the other moving to my waist. He pulled me flush against him and my skin felt on fire everywhere he touched and I didn’t want it to be put out. The next thing I know he catches my lips in a searing kiss. I purr delighted by what was occurring it was cut of into a moan when his tongue moved into my mouth.

His lips trailed down my jaw as he pulled away moving to my neck teeth scraping against my scent gland. “Always wanted to claim you here, leave my mark for everyone to see. Always wanted you. Always. And now you’re mine.

“when I first met you I was confused, my body hummed when your scent hit my nose and I hated it, it made me feel human, feel weak. But the longer I was with you the more I realized that it did the opisite. It didn’t make me weak it made me strong, the need to protect you surged through me any time we where on a hunt together. But outside of hunts I still wanted you safe.

“I never knew if you truly hated me, sure I could have read your thoughts but the idea of doing that to you made my heart ache at the idea of me ruining what little trust I may have or finding out you truly felt that way about me. So I never did.”

I stared at him “but you still treated me-“

“The way I treated you was wrong but it was the only way I could stop myself from accidentally calling you omega in a way that gave away my true feelings. I didn’t think I could stop myself if I was to close to you.”

I bowed my head staring at my feet and eventually at his own when he stepped towards me again. A gentle lift of my chin with two fingers made me look at him.

“I know you may never truly forgive me, but im trying.” I shook my head and he looked hurt and tried to step away before hi could I grabbed his hand leaving it on my face.

”I already do, as crazy as that is.... I can’t stay upset with you.... alpha.” I whispered the last word worry filling my veins he must have smelt it because soon I was pulled into a hug.

The gentle purr leaving Cas as well as his scent calming me slightly but I only truly calmed down at the purr of his words. “Omega~” I hummed happily.

If I thought back to all the times he had said it there was always a hint of love, and need behind it hidden by fake hatred or disgust.

Suddenly I was ripped from my dream. Before I could control if I whimpered as small chirps left my lips. It hurt me every time but this time it felt so much more real. And even now as I’m awake his scent filled the air. Suddenly the bed dipped and my eyes snapped open to see a very worried Castiel pulling me into him.

“You’re alright it’s okay...” he whispered purring softly as he released more of his relaxing scent.

“I wish this was really happening.” I whispered my brain now thinking I had to still be dreaming.

“It is.” He whispered softly and he pinched my arm gently but enough to make me realize it was. I pulled away.

“But why-“

I was cut off “because what I said in your dream was really me omega. I truly do feel that way.” I purred softly as he scrapped his nails gently in my back.

“You really meant it?” The omega in me was practically howling in delight when he nodded. Without thinking I pressed my lips to his own happily content as he kissed back.

———

Me and Cas laid in bed together and soon he stood up and I did too. Seeing my freshly marked neck and me standing bare he pinned me to the wall growling in a playful way.

Suddenly I heard a low growl as the door behind us slammed open. I quickly turned to find Sam and dean. Clearly they misread the situation to be one of a threatening manor. Even though Cas was like there brother I was the omega of our pack.

“No!” I said quickly standing in front of Cas as the two alpha brothers stepped forward there eyes glowing threatingly.

“Mine!” I heard Cas growl lowly I knew he had bared his teeth in a threat. A freshly mated alpha was dangerous, ex specially if you threaten his omega. There movements stopped instantly but not as Cas’ words but at mine. There eyes only moved from my face to my neck. Never straying lower.

Cas made to move around me but I placed a hand on his chest. “No alpha.” My words broke him out of his urge to protect his mate and he looked to me his features softening. He noticed our state and quickly snapped on clothing for us. The boys both relaxed there eyes turning normal as they took a step back.

“So you two finally stopped being stubborn idiots.” Dean said smirking. This time I growled low and warning. Despite me being an omega dean lifted his hand.

“He didn’t mean it like that y/n/n we just both knew it was bound to happen you two beings true mates and all.”

I stared at him shocked. “A) how did you know that?! And B) why are you home?!”

Dean shrugged “Hunt was a bust and PAlease the way you two secretly pinned after one another whining softly as the other left it was obvious.” Cas must not have liked the tone because his chest puffed and I could smell an increase in his scent.

“You two should leave we literally just mated.” I backed myself into Cas’ chest smiling when his nose went to my neck and his arms encircled my waist. Sam and dean both smiled as if this was a normal occurnace.

Dean nodded and walked out of the room with a wink in my direction. Sam grabbed the door handle and just before it was closed he whispered a congrats I’m happy for you.

Once the boys where gone I felt a Cas relax fully and pull me tighter to him. “I never thought you where one for physical affection alpha.” I purred.

“Do you not like it?” He quickly went to pull away but my whine stopped him.

“I love it.”

“Good I’m glad. I love you, y/n. My beautiful omega.”

“I love you too Cassie bear my strong alpha.”

#cas #castiel #supernatural #spn #alpha and omega #alpha castiel #omega reader #alpha and omega reader

[swspnmcu]

More Than A Burden pt 2

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Sam x sister!reader, Dean x sister!reader

Summary: Sam and Dean burst into your life, after finding out that they had a sister.

Pt 1

Arriving at the bunker was awkward, to say the least. The whole ride back you didn’t utter a word to either brother. You just stared out the window, willing yourself not to think about your mother that just died in front of your eyes. By the same people that were now driving you to there super-secret bunker. 

Once you got the bunker it did not get much better. As you went immediately inside and down the stairs. Which felt like you just enter the 1960′s. If it wasn't for the laptop sitting on the table in the library. 

“Sam, Dean?” A deep voice broke through. And you whip your head to the towards the direction of the voice. And you saw a man with dark black hair wearing a trench coat, but before you could even say a word he moved to you and held some sort of blade to your throat.

“Who are you?” he graveled out and his piercing blue eyes cut deep to your soul with fear.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you barely managed to get out as the pressure of the blade pushed down on your throat.

“Cas, let her go,” Sam said running over to the two of you. The man named Cas listened to the younger Winchester brother immediately and released you and tucked away his blade.

“Who is she?” Cas questioned as you rubbed your throat and backed away from him. Not wanting to be near the man that just tried to kill you.

“Our sister. She’s going to be staying at the bunker from now on,” Sam told Cas. Then looked back you making sure you were okay after Cas’s attack.

“If you guys are going to keep talking like I’m not here you could at least point me to my room,” you told them rolling your eyes. You just wanted to go to sleep and maybe you would finally wake up from this hellish day.

“Yeah of course. You can have the room next to Jack’s it's down that hall 3rd door on the right,” Sam said giving you a warm smile. 

You knew he was trying to be nice and make you feel better but it just wasn’t. Your mom just died now your living with these two strangers that claim to be your older brothers, Cas who held a blade to your throat, and some guy named Jack. You didn’t need Sam’s pitty right now, what you needed was a drink and a hard one at that. 

“Thanks,” you muttered as you were already making your way to your new room. 

As you left you heard Cas utter to Sam asking him “Where’s Dean?”

“Went to pick up supplies,” Sam answered with and that was the last of that conversation you heard. 

Entering the room that was to be yours looked like it could be anyone's. As it held no memories of you growing up in it. You couldn’t even imagine calling this your room in the first place. It didn’t fit you in any sense of the word, it just looked to put it easily depressing. As you looked around the small four corners.

Though that didn’t stop you from throwing yourself down on the bed face first. Burring your face into the white pillow that smelt like must from the old bunker.

Laying there with your face buried in the pillow. You thought about how this was supposed to be your new home. A home filled with four older men that two are the brothers that you never knew or didn’t want you in there life in the first place. Sure, Sam seems nice enough but you just feel like he pities you and feels like it's his responsibility to make it better. And Dean has had made it clear on how he feels about you being here.

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts.

“What do you want?” you groaned out but your voice was muffled by the pillow.

“Can I come in?” the voice asked and you figured out it was Cas from his deep sounding vocals.

“Sure, if you promise you're not going to try and kill me again,” you answered lifting up your head just enough to make sure he could hear you.

Slowly the door opened and you moved to sit up in the bed. 

Cas moved into your room looking somewhat embarrassed if you could say.

“Look about earlier, I didn’t know who you were when I attacked you. And for that I apologize (Y/N),” he said with such sincerity and when his blue eyes meet your (e/c) ones you couldn’t help the small flutter of your heart. 

“Out of all things that happened today, having a stranger press a blade to my throat wasn’t the worst,” you tried to joke but it came out a little choaked as you held back your tears. As the picture of your mom being stabbed by Dean as Sam held her arms back, was brought back to your mind. 

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern as he moved closer to you. But not to close as if not wanting to test your boundaries.

“Am I okay?” you mocked him. “Did Sam not tell you what happened? Of course, I’m not okay. Stop looking at me with those sad puppy eyes, I’m not some burden that you have to take care of too. I know Dean already doesn’t want me here or in his life. And Sam is doing it out of some obligation of me technically being his sister. But you have no reason to pity me, your just some mysterious man that I don’t know and you don't know me. So just get out!” You said your voice getting weaker as you went on and you broke down even more. With tears running down both of your (s/c) cheeks. 

He didn’t say anything but you felt the mattress dip beside you. And when you felt a hand touch your back you couldn’t help but flinch at the contact. But slowly relaxed into it as it rubbed soothing circles on to your back. You even started leaning into the touch. Not wanting to meet Cas’s eyes but wanting the comfort you slowly let your headrest on his shoulder and moved closer into his warmth. And slowly you drifted off to sleep.

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #castiel x reader #castiel x you

[marsupials-of-mars]

Graying

Synopsis: From the initial split at childhood all the way through present day, a collection of days in the life of Remus as we get to know why he is how he is now, and how he got his white streak.

Warnings: gore, blood, sexual reference, poison, angst

7/8/94

Creativity woke up in a cold sweat. Creativity also woke up in a cold sweat. They looked at one another. That wasn't right. Wrong. bad. The mindscape felt conflicted, and everyone was looking at him. At them. One thought rang in Creativity's mind, something that had been there before he woke up. He smiled and shouted:

"Poopyhead!"

"No!" Virgil squealed and covered his ears.

Creativity's face fell. It came back to him. He'd been just one person, moments before. Five year old Thomas was arguing with his mom and needed something to call her, because she was being very unfair. No dessert, she'd said, and that wasn't fair. Deceit had said so. So Creativity had made up the perfect name.

"Poopyhead!"

"NO!" Everyone had yelled at him at once, and it hurt his ears, and his head.

"We'll get in trouble!"

"That's really mean!"

"We definitely won't get dessert!"

Virgil, then Patton, then Logan, all hated his idea, and it hurt, and it hurt more, until he felt his brain tear apart. And he woke up in two pieces. The sides all grouped around Creativity, but not him. The other one. The one with the name. The name that Creativity himself didn't feel like he had anymore. Around Roman. Roman was bright red again, not the icky pukey color he'd been fading into recently. The gross color that happened when you color a green marker over a red marker. He must have gotten the green marker out of him. With that thought, Creativity looked down at himself. He felt his heart fall into his stomach. He was the green marker. The ruiner. His bangs fell into his face, and a flash of silver caught his eye. One grey hair. And Thomas didn't say "poopyhead". Instead he said;

"I'll make you a drawing for it!"

9/20/97

Remus hung his head off the edge of the top bunk, playing with his costume's few new baubles and frills, watching Roman scribble furiously. Thomas had been assigned a Young Author's book, a story he had to write all by himself. It was very exciting, but Roman had insisted he would do it himself. From what Remus could tell he was basing it off of The Little Mermaid. Remus usually stayed quiet at this point, whispers or nothing, his pinch of silver hair a constant reminder of the pain of daring to contribute. But he had such a good idea, and Thomas wouldn't be the best writer in the class without it!

"Flounder gets eaten by an eel! And he dies!"

Roman spun to look up at him in horror and disgust. "NO! It's my story and that's not what happens!"

And Remus heard shouts around the mind as Thomas experienced the thought, and though distant, he heard them all clear as day.

"That's so sad, nooo!"

"We'd get in trouble with the teacher!"

"We definitely wont win if we get disqualified!"

Again, sharp pain, stabbing into his head, pressure, squeezing, piercing. He gripped his head and whined.

"Fine! Do it your way! Fartface!" He pouted as another sandy hair drained of color. He decided it was best to just stay quiet no matter what.

4/5/01

Remus played with his hair, again trying to pluck the greys only to have another immediately grow back in their place. Still, he'd developed an enjoyment of the zap of pain at each pluck, escalating to tearing out larger chunks of hair and scratching tick tac toes into his thighs, watching the white marks fade to dark pink. It was something to do when nobody liked him, nobody wanted to talk to him, when a part of the mind wasn't allowed to do his job. He giggled and turned his attention to his new outfit, now a bit more glittery, frilly, crazy. He felt it was missing something. Before he could determine what, he was called to attention. Thomas was upset. He joined the others down in the common area to view what the body was doing. Thomas stood in front of one of his friends, Hannah maybe. Remus didn't care to keep track, why would he if he wasnt allowed to interact with them? But she wasn't being very friendly. She was yelling, something not true that she thought Thomas did, that he hit her maybe. She was saying she would tell the teacher. Patton was trying to reason and pacify, Deceit was ranting about how unfair it all was, Virgil was on the verge of tears. Roman was trying to find a way out of it, but to no avail. Remus growled. Thomas was upset, and he had an idea to help him. And he would say it, no matter the pain he knew would come with it, because nobody else was helping. He cleared his throat, almost rusty from lack of use after committing to being selectively mute for nearly four years now, squeaky and grating and unfamiliar. He pushed to the middle of the group and yelled, the group all startling at the new voice;

"KICK HER TEETH OUT!"

And the room went silent a moment. And Remus felt something. acknowledgment. Thomas winced. Thomas had heard him. Thomas had thought his thought. And that euphoria carried Remus through the onslaught of reprimanding by the others, the headache and the pain, and the three grey hairs that sprouted at once. He was all but shoved back into his room, in a blur. Rather than laying down (in his bed now fully across the room from Roman's), he conjured a little eleven year old girl, with a very kickable face. And he kicked her teeth out. And there was blood, and it felt good. He took the handful of teeth, thinking over his recent dissatisfaction with his outfit. He took some superglue, and bedazzled his uniform with the bloodied, bony gems. He felt better. This felt better. If merely kicking a stranger felt that cathartic... He conjured a Patton, then a Logan, a Virgil, a Roman and a Deceit for good measure. And finally a knife. And he used it. And he felt so, so much better, his vocal cords aching from sudden use as he laughed, and hollered his battle cries. Blood, so much blood of all colors of the rainbow. And he was loud, because he wanted to be, because he wasn't ever allowed to be this loud before, and because he wasn't ever allowed, he wanted to be. He wanted to be LOUD. He was so loud that he couldn't hear the footsteps approaching his door, that he couldn't hear the click of the latch, that he could barely hear his brother's scream of horror upon entering the room. Barely.

10/20/04

Remus ran circles around Deceit, trying to annoy him into submission, his tassels and sequins and beads jingling against his oufit as he danced about. He grabbed his friend's shoulders, shaking him, wrapping him in mucus laden tentacles and threatening disgusting and/or violent methods of persuasion. Deceit just calmly shook his head through it all.

"I can't allow that, and I'll continue to say it, your whining isn't as tough on my resolve as you think it is. I live with you. You're forgetting that most of these aren't really threats as much as typical weekday activities."

"Come OOON! He wants it, you want it, Roman and Patton wont admit it but OH how they want it-"

"NO. You don't think high school is hard enough already without that on his plate? He'd get torn to shreds! Chewed up and spit out! But clearly you dont care about his wellbeing..."

Remus felt as if a sword had been plunged through his chest. "I DON'T CA-?! Is that what you think of me?! I want him to be happy, and what would make him REAL happy is getting himself some dick!"

Deceit winced. "REMUS ENOUGH. Not the time, Not the place! End of conversation!"

Remus scoffed in disbelief. "LOOK at me! Look at Roman! You can't look at us with a straight face and think 'yep, straight, end of conversation'!"

"I'm not SAYING he's straight, I'm saying he doesn't need to know otherwise right now!"

"And wrapping it all up in some pussy with a little gift bow on top for when he's old enough to regret never being raw and honest with himself is better for him?!"

"He's in high school, he has a lot on his plate, we don't have the time or emotional stability for 'raw and honest!!!'"

Remus's face was hot and red, he sputtered out what could have been words if he wasn't so infuriated.

"FINE. That IS what you would want wouldn't it be DECEIT?!" He turned on his heel.

"Don't you 'Deceit' me! You know my name!"

"You're right! Maybe if you ever try a tactic other than repression and lies I'll try it out! As it stands, I'm taking this into my own hands! Oh! That rhymed!" Remus giggled.

Deceit threw up his hands. "Try! I dare you! You know what happens!"

"Oh of course I know! You all gang up and torture me for every suggestion I make! But that doesn't keep me from making them! Watch me! I like the pain! I'll jerk it to that shit if it means I get my ideas out! You can watch, I won't mind, but if you'd rather finally stay out of my way and let me do my job I'd take that too!"

It was Deceit's turn to flush with rage. But Remus didn't stick around to watch. He sprinted up to the main area and looked out the eyes of the body. And there he was. A boy, tall and tan and gorgeous, one lunch table away. Thomas was staring. Remus had one shot to bust through. He took a breath and spoke softly;

"It's just you and me Thomas. Nobody else knows what you need right now. But I do. And I want you to be happy. I always have." He cleared his throat, thinking suave, thinking tact. He paused. The others could block out tact couldn't they? He needed something loud and awful. He needed Thomas to start thinking, just to consider. He was better at loud and awful anyway.

The boy stretched, arms behind his head, his shirt lifting just enough to show a glimpse of his abs. Remus drooled. Perfect.

"BEND HIM OVER THAT TABLE AND FUCK HIM HERE AND NOW!"

Thomas choked, the bite of sandwich he'd just taken suddenly tasting sour and mushy in his mouth.

Remus felt the onslaught of reprimands coming at him from all directions.

"That's not right!"

"What would our parents say?!"

"We can't afford to think about this right now!"

His brain ached, his stomach turned, he felt as if needles were plunging into his skull from all angles. A folicle drained of pigment. But he was beaming. Thomas was thinking. And Deceit was useless to stop him. He felt arms grab him from behind, restraining his legs, his arms, keeping him from whipping his head back to dislocate a jaw. Six arms.

"How fun! My bestest friend came to watch after all! How's the repression going hm? Why arent you cutting him off? Why is he THINKING?" Remus teased as the pounding in his head only got louder and heavier, and two more hairs lost color. He suddenly felt fangs in his neck, piercing deep, venom seeping into his bloodstream. Remus moaned. "Deceit! I forgot you were into-" The effort of speaking became too much, his jaw exhausting with the rest of him.

The venom, which Remus had so lovingly taken to calling "dreamkiller", had a tendency to put him to sleep, killing his suggested train of thought almost instantly.

Remus watched Thomas start to hum to distract himself as he drifted off. Thomas's train of thought could die. That was fine. Because it would not be forgotten. He could be shut down, hurt, repressed, all they wanted to repress him. But now he could be heard. He could get through when he wanted. He could intrude. And that was all he needed.

4/3/09

Remus leapt like a trained ballerina about his pigsty of a room, twirling with ax in hand, gleefully slaughtering actual pigs. He was in a good mood, because Thomas was in a good mood. Thomas was eating lunch outside, leaned up against a cement campus building warmed by sun, his boyfriend by his side. They were chatting about majors, clearly a Logan-centric conversation, but Roman and Patton were also apparently hard at work with the amount of puppy love and flirting going on between the lines. Remus delighted in knowing he had a part in it, no matter how small it really was. The flint to the fire maybe.

The happy mood suddenly shifted into something less nice. Remus huffed. What went wrong? He made his way up to the main area, dripping with blood. Thomas was saying his goodbyes. He had a class to go to. Remus pouted. They were having such a good time! He pushed between Logan, Patton, and Roman.

"Remus? What could you possibly want to do?!" Roman grabbed for Remus's sash but he shook him off.

"We're merely parting for class, leaving this conversation to be resumed at a later time. I pose the same question." Logan didn't bother to try to stop Remus but looked at him quizzically.

"Fuck school. Just getting something out of my system." Remus readied himself. The others braced, Patton and Roman attempting to pull him back.

"DISEMBOWEL THE PROFESSOR! GOUGE HIS EYES OUT WITH YOUR PENCILS AND CRUSH HIS SKULL WITH YOUR OVERPRICED TEXTBOOKS! BATHE IN HIS BLOOD!"

"Jesus christ!" Roman tackled him to the ground. "Where did that come from?!" Patton held his hands over his mouth in shock. Even Logan seemed queasy.

Once again as usual, pressure in his brain, stabbing, burning, gut-twisting as they scolded. Two hairs lost pigment. Nearly all of his bangs were white at this point. He barely noticed the stress on his body anymore, he was used to it. Not that it didnt hurt.

"I HATE class. It's no fun!"

Roman lifted him over his shoulder and began marching him down to his room, the others following.

"Everybody hates class!" Logan began to speak but Roman cut him off. "Everyone but Logan. But that was WAY too extreme! You need to chill! You've been getting worse and worse, especially since classes started! what is UP with you?!"

Remus would have spoken if he'd known the answer. He thought back. His contributions HAD been more explicit and exciting recently. Maybe Thomas was just maturing and taking his thoughts with him. But he had been doing it more and more, suggesting bigger and bigger things. Everything about him was more extreme, had been getting more extreme over all of Thomas's years. His oufit, his ideas, his casual day to day actions... his gray streak. He brought his hand to his bangs. Buildup. That was what. Roman dumped him into his room.

"Whatever it is, figure it out. Thomas is stressed out already, he doesnt need your wicked suggestions."

"He doesn't need them, but arent they exciting?!" Remus grinned before the door was slammed in his face.

He sighed and got up, with a bit of difficulty considering the slick pig guts across his carpet, and flopped onto his bed. He played with his attempted facial hair for a moment, the few hairs he insisted would one day form a magnificent moustache to be jealous of, no matter all of Logan's insistence that Thomas didnt have the hair-growing capacity. It was coming along well enough. He considered his life. Thomas's resolve to be family friendly, to be a "good person" inside and out, every thought he had. But he was twenty, Remus should have some say over his creativity. But every suggestion was either too violent, too gross, too X-rated, according to the others. But he couldn't help it. He had to be loud and awful, it was the only way he got through. He would have loved if the others let him be the half of creativity he could be, but as it stood to this point, he had to intrude. He was conditioned to intrude. It was what he knew. And thinking about it, he wasn't sure he would be able to just be "bad creativity" anymore. He was retitled, the way Logan referred to him. Intrusive thoughts. And he liked that, he was his own entity, not just Roman's brother, not just the twin as his name entailed. He could do something that made a difference, that made Thomas stop in his tracks, and sweat, and panic, and question. An override. Everything stopped for his ideas. He liked that. But he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if it didn't hurt so bad. What he would have become.

But he liked what he did. He loved it. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd believe it. That always seemed to work for Thomas, didn't it?

6/26/19

Remus could hardly breathe. He must have heard wrong.

"I can what?"

"I'm letting you out, you get to join the group with Thomas tomorrow. They're meeting for a video. I need you to do your worst, prove to Thomas that there are things worth hiding from himself. He wants to be more honest with himself and more 'direct' in dealing with his issues. I'm stepping back. I won't deceive him about the ugliness within him if he doesn't want me to. He's on his own."

Ouch. Not the best mission for his ego. But if he agreed he got revealed. Thomas would see him. Thomas would know him.

"DEAL!" He hopped from foot to foot. "I need to prepare! I'll be on my worst behavior, you can count on me!"

"I always know i can."

Bullshit. A clear lie, but Remus felt it was best not to antagonize Deceit while he was prone to changing his mind.

"They sing right?! I'm gonna write a song!" He immediatly started brainstorming, an introduction, everything he wanted Thomas to know about him.

Deceit sighed. "You dont have to write-"

"I will! I'm writing a song and it'll be better than anything Roman has ever sang! Anything anyone has ever sang! Watch me! If I can get Thomas sleep deprived, I could probably force them all into nightmare mode! Choreographed! It's going to be CHOREOGRAPHED!" He twirled excitedly, squealing with delight, his frills flying up in a tornado of sparkles.

"Don't lose sight of why you're there. Convince him that you need to be hidden, don't let yourself or anyone else distract you."

"Yeah yeah, I get it- OH I get to stand in Roman's spot don't I?! And I can GET RID of him from said spot?!"

"Yes, but don't get distracted!"

"I won't OKAY?! I'll do my disgusting, smelly, loud, ugly thing okay?! But let me have fun! That's where I thrive!"

Deceit paused before nodding. "I can not argue with that. You'll need to set up the conversation. I promise-" Deceit held his hands up to prove his fingers weren't crossed. "-that I won't work to repress you tonight. Say whatever you'd like, don't let anyone stop you. Wear them down."

Easy for him to say, he'd never had to continue a train of thought while being attacked from all sides, feeling like his brain was about to explode. But Remus could take it. It sounded like a lot of fun, an opportunity to have Thomas think his thoughts for a whole night rather than a minute or two. He had some ideas and opinions to share anyway.

"That whole wedding situation is pretty fucked up isn't it?"

Deceit groaned. "Tell me about it."

"What if instead of worrying about their feelings..." He twisted his moustache in consideration. "We stab both Lee and Mary-Lee twenty-three times each in the chest and leave them to bleed out in the bathtub?"

Deceit cringed. "That would do it. Talk their ears off about that. Remember, the point is that I won't be involved. Traumatize to your little blackened heart's content."

Remus nodded. "Got it." He thought a moment. "Holy shit, I get THEME MUSIC don't I?!"

Deceit pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... go do your thing."

"Aye-Aye!"

Remus spent the rest of the night up until Thomas went to bed writing his song, practicing his social skills, warming up his voice, making sure he was as entertainingly unlikable as possible. Sure he had to do Deceit's dirty work, but he wanted Thomas to understand him, in whatever way he could be understood. And he would be loud.

Loud for Thomas to hear.

6/28/19

Deceit pounded on the door. "Remus come on! Tell me what happened up there!"

Remus curled in his crumb and stain-ridden bed, exhausted. He groaned and unlocked the door with a flip of his wrist. Deceit slithered in, artfully dodging all the slimy and sharp things strewn across the floor; bear traps, the occasional boar dropping, etcetera.

"So? It clearly didn't go well."

"I dunno scales-for-sale, didn't it? I wasn't paying attention, you can have the honor of telling me cause I'm unsure."

"Well it didn't go my way."

"Nothing ever does, huh?" Remus smirked. He took some solace in someone other than himself having so much trouble with the others. He smacked his lips loudly. "My mouth tastes like deodorant..."

Deceit rolled his eyes. "Good for you. I'm so jealous."

"I know right?!"

"So what did you do wrong?" He squinted accusingly. Remus gasped, offended.

"Who's to say I did anything wrong?!"

"It was a pretty damn simple task! Be yourself, annoy and horrify everyone in your general vicinity!"

"Maybe they're all just amazingly difficult! You can vouch for that cant you?"

Deceit huffed. "I suppose that's believable... who threw it off then?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Logan. Dull one with the star fetish?"

"I'm aware who Logan is."

Remus layed his head back and threw his hands up. "He convinced Thomas that I'm irrelevant! That my contributions are nothing, that they don't mean anything to him! To IGNORE me!"

Deceit considered. "So how did that fail me in my efforts?"

"He convinced Thomas that repression doesn't work, that intrusive thoughts don't mean anything and that if he let them pass on without beating himself up about them, or without Patton and Virgil beating him up, that he'd be healthier! Just ignore me is what he said!"

Deceit growled, only succeeding in pacifying himself by taking a long breath in through his nose. "Okay then. Plan C."

"Easy for you to just move right along! My life is ruined! Thomas will never consider anything I say again! If I try to say anything he'll just brush me off! Without stopping, without sweating, without panicking, without trying to-" Remus stopped. He'd forgotten to consider. "...Without trying to... REPRESS me..." He felt his spirits rise, felt his hopes shoot up like fireworks, crackling warm and explosive in his chest. He bolted upright.

"Okay, you go do your Plan C, I have an experiment to conduct!"

Deceit left the room deep in thought. "Mhm just don't set anything on fire this time..."

Remus grinned and jumped out of bed. He sprinted up to the main area. Patton and Virgil were already there, assisting Thomas in helping a friend clean some gutters. His friend was on a ladder, a tippy, terrifying ladder. Patton was praising Thomas for holding the ladder steady while Virgil was passionately explaining the repercussions of failing to do so. Being jailed for manslaughter and the like.

Remus popped up between them, startling them both to momentary screams before they recognized him.

"Remus!" Patton crossed his arms. "Give a little warning at least!

"Hey! Mind if I sneak a few words in? Good! Me neither!" He ducked under Patton and Virgil's attempts to keep him back. "We're all friends here now, right? No need for all that! Just saying my piece. my worthless piece as Mr. Peabuddy would call it!"

Virgil was staring daggers at him but backed off. Patton was a bit more hesitant, but complied.

"See? We're getting along like nobody's business!" Remus beamed at the lack of force needed to find a good spot. He cleared his throat.

"SHAKE HIM OFF THE LADDER AND DELIGHT IN THE CRUNCH OF HIS SHATTERING BONES!"

Remus braced himself. He looked from Virgil to Patton, both their faces drawn taut and restrained and their hands balled into white-knuckled fists. They weren't scolding him. And it didn't hurt. No headache, no stomach turning, no sharp stabbing pains. He reached for his bangs. His unchanged, just as grey as before bangs. His breath caught in his throat. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better:

"Remus, bud, could you calm down?" Thomas mumbled under his breath. Remus froze. His name. That was his name. Thomas knew him. Thomas heard him, and Thomas let him speak. "You don't have to yell, you know. I'm not doing that anyway so save your voice. I can hear you just fine."

Remus blinked. Should he respond?

"But if I don't yell... how will I KNOW you can hear me?"

"Nobody's talking over you now are they?"

Remus fell silent. He looked back at Virgil and Patton, neither of whom were trying to drown him out. Thomas seemed to take that as his cue to stop talking to himself. Remus took a few hesitant steps backward and let the other two take back their places. Thomas hadn't done what he suggested. He hadn't stopped, or panicked, or begun to sweat. By all means this was the last thing Remus had told himself that he'd want. But he'd been heard. He'd been HEARD. And he hadn't been punished for it. He was part of Thomas, according to Thomas. Maybe not how he'd pictured it, but it felt so wonderful. It was a wonderful thing to be. With his experiment concluded, he stumbled absentmindedly back down the hall, lost in thought. He bumped into Roman halfway down, throwing him off gaurd. He conjured an array of weapons as reflex upon identifying his obstacle. Roman drew his sword.

"Wicked twin of mine, we meet again!"

"Aw, I love this little back and forth we've got! We're such a cute pair." Remus sharpened back into normality. With a snap he arranged his weapons onto a colorful lottery wheel. "Take a spin, pick me a winner, I'm not partial to any one of these goodies!"

Roman grabbed Remus's shoulder instead, an unsettlingly familial gesture that Remus wasn't quite accustomed too. The wheel vanished, leaving the weapons to clatter to the ground before they too vanished one by one. Roman sheathed his sword. He sighed.

"Wait, while I've got you here, I've been meaning to talk to you... well it wasn't my choice really, but Joan and Thomas have been planning this new song, about a gay Disney prince?"

Remus clapped his fingertips, responding in a cheery tone: "Oh how exciting! Fuck you! I thought we agreed that you don't get to let me in on these things if you don't ever plan on letting me help! What a fun fun example of something I'd theoretically adore! I'll kill you! Not even going to hesitate!" He summoned a dagger into his hand.

"I know, I know, calm down a sec Trashley Olsen! That's the point."

"Hm?" Remus lowered his weapon.

"Thomas wanted me to..." Roman groaned. "This project, there are bits where he wants to go a bit less family friendly. Since yesterday he's been considering being more... ADULT in his content. To 'challenge his viewership' as you put it. So..." Roman avoided eye contact.

Remus let the dagger fall to the floor, unconsciously leaning forward in anticipation. This had to be a joke. He couldn't possibly mean... "So...?"

Roman took a deep, frustrated breath. "So we're working on a project. Together. For the channel."

Remus nearly blacked out. He was suddenly on his knees without any memory of falling, his face was suddenly wet and salty without memory of how. He was shaking, and crying, and so, SO incredibly happy.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He felt Roman grab his shoulders, knelt in front of him though Remus could hardly see through the watery euphoria. "What's going on?"

"Twist my arm why dontcha?!" Remus broke into a fit of giggles, slumping against Roman. Roman rubbed the back of his shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to react, which only made Remus laugh harder.

"So you're in? Or..." Roman tried to discreetly pull away, only to be restrained in a bundle of tentacles.

"I AM, TO INFINITE AND UNIMAGINABLE EXTENTS, IN!" He lifted Roman off the ground and twirled him about before tossing him back off in the direction of his room. He sprinted, twirled and danced merrily back to his own room, passing Deceit on the way, nearly barreling into him.

"What's gotten into you?!"

Remus gripped his bangs and called back to him: "LIFE!"

He cannonballed onto his bed, unfurling into an exhausted starfish. Life. New life. Creativity. Not Intrusive Thoughts, not Bad Creativity, but CREATIVITY. He finally had a job, a purpose, an outlet. And he could be as loud as he wanted. But maybe the best part was that he didn't NEED to be loud anymore. Whether or not he would ever be quiet again remained to be seen, but right then, just to know the fact that he could speak, converse, WHISPER, and be HEARD... it was a wonderful thought to think.

#remus sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #angst #creatwins

[banshee1013]

Suptober Day 26/27: Wish/Villains

Link to ficlet on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209792

An Almost Perfect Day

Rating: Teen

=======================

Sam blinked in the hazy light of the bedroom, uncertain of his surroundings. Startled by movement next to him in the bed, he reached under his pillow for a gun that wasn't there.

A sleepy voice drifted over from the other side of the bed.

"Babe, can you turn that thing off? We don't have to be at Dean's for a while yet… you must have forgotten to turn it off last night…"

Jess.

He became aware of what she was talking about - the buzzing bleat of the alarm clock. Reached over and slapped at it until it stopped.

Cautiously, slowly, he rolled over to face the direction of Jess' voice. And stared directly into her green eyes, narrowed with concern.

"Everything ok? What were you looking for…" she asked, reaching to touch his face and pulling back sharply as he flinched, which only increased her concern. "Sam? What's wrong?"

Sam shook his head to clear it, wiping a hand down his face and blinking. What was it? A dream? Yeah, must have been a dream…

He turned back to Jess, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his lips. "Nothing, babe. Just… a dream, I guess… it's over now." But still clutched her hand, reluctant to let it go and not sure why…

Jess gave him another searching look and gently pulled her hand free.

"OK, well… I'm awake now so I'm going to grab a shower. Can you get some coffee going?" She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, and stretched before standing and striding to the bathroom.

Pausing in the doorway, she looked back over her shoulder at him, a flare of heat in her eyes. "Maybe join me after you get the coffee on, whadaya say?" she purred before heading inside the bathroom.

Sam, fully conscious now, scrambled out of bed and all but ran to the kitchen to start the coffee as he hears the shower start.

====================================

The unease and disorientation returned suddenly, even as he stood in the shower behind Jess, a soapy loofa in his hand, arm around her bare wet waist and lips pressed to the back of her neck.

Suddenly, he was in a dark, abandoned place, his vision foggy, his head lolling as he tried to look around. He felt his hands tied high above his head, his feet barely touching the floor.

Luminous blue eyes bored into him and a hand covered in glowing, swirling tattoos reached toward him, grasping his chin. He felt the tattoos burn into his skin and…

His back was pressed against the cold tiles of the shower wall, hands grasping for purchase on them.

"SAM!" Jess cried, her hands on his face and he was back, back in the shower. He took a shaky breath and pulled her close, the warm water beating down on them both.

"Sam, what happened? What's wrong?" she sobbed against his chest.

He stroked her hair, stilling her sobs. "It's ok… just… I just felt like I was someplace else for a minute…" He pulled her up to look into her face, gave her a kiss, wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's ok, I'm fine now. I'm so sorry…".

She gave him a worried, uncertain smile. "Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?"

He met her smile, and reached over her to turn off the water. "I'm sure. C'mon, we have to get out of here before we turn into prunes."

=======================================

Jess pulled up to the curb in front of Lisa and Dean's house… and Sam realized he had no recollection of how they got there. Shaking his head again, he opened the car door and climbed out.

I gotta get more sleep, he thought. I must have dozed off in the car. Meeting Jess by the trunk, he grabbed the grocery bags there and made his way up the path to the house.

He didn't even have the time to reach the front porch before the door swings wide, and Lisa was there, grabbing the bags and ushering them inside.

"Dean's round back, grilling up the burgers," she said, pulling a six-pack from one of the grocery bags and handing it to Sam before giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the back yard. "Here, take these to him, will you? I'm sure he's thirsty by now…," then grabbed Jess' arm, pulling her toward the counter where Lisa's making… something. "Jess, can you help me with this?"

Sam headed out to the back yard as ordered with the six-pack, and found Dean as expected by the grill. The aroma of his famous burgers permeated the yard and made Sam's mouth water.

"Heya, Dean…," Sam said as he approached, and set the six-pack on the shelf next to the grill. "Lisa said you might want one of these…" pulling one out of the carton and opening it before holding it out to his brother.

"Hell yeah! Thanks, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, taking the proffered bottle. Tipping it back for a long pull, he lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Grillin's thirsty work, you know!"

Sam chuckled as he pulled another bottle from the carton for himself, opened it and took a hefty drink, glancing around at the family members gathered for… wait, why were they here again? The feeling of unease began to wash over him again, and then he saw her - Mom.

Oh, right. Mom's birthday. Of course. The unease dissipated.

And there was Bobby and Ellen standing next to her, talking, while Jo and Ash played cornhole nearby, and Garth and Bess watched while Ben entertained their little one on the blanket spread in front of them.

Benny approached from the house carrying a plate of cheese and bacon and a bag of buns, headed for the grill, and he and Dean discussed the finer techniques of grilling the perfect burger.

It was all very idyllic, the perfect family gathering… but Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something… someone… was missing.

And just as suddenly, he was back in the dark room. It was cold, and his hands were numb. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bag full of red liquid and wondered if it was blood.

Wondered if it was his.

Again out of the gloom, the piercing, glowing blue eyes filled his vision, the hand glowing with blue flame engulfed his face, and then he's back in Dean's back yard, laying on the grass. Dean, Jess, and Lisa stood over him, Bobby crouched by his head.

"Hey, boy, are you ok?" Bobby asked as he helped Sam sit up.

Sam glanced around at the concerned faces surrounding him. "Wha… what happened?"

"Dunno, you just keeled right over…" Bobby said, as Dean offered his hand to help pull him from the ground. Sam took it and stood up, recovering his beer in the process.

"Oh no you don't," Jess said, taking the bottle from him. "I think you've had enough for a while!"

"Geeze, when did you become such a lightweight?" Dean mocked, dusting the grass off Sam's back. Sam shrugged, and let Jess guide him to a chair.

Mary approached with a glass of tea, handed it to him and brushed the hair away from his forehead before placing the back of her hand against it. "Are you feeling alright, Sam? You look very pale…"

Sam took a long drink from the glass of ice tea and tried to get his bearings. "Mom, I'm... I dunno, I've been feeling out of sorts all day… like, I'm in a… a waking dream or something."

Mary bent over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You're not getting enough sleep, that firm is running you ragged," she grumbled. "You and Jess need to take a nice, long vacation… go somewhere nice, away from the rat race. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Sam listened to her but the words seemed to be flowing past him, uncomprehended.

He looked around again, at the people gathered here. Something was wrong…

Someone was missing.

Wait. Cas… Where was Cas??

"Mom… Mom, where's Cas?" he interrupted, a feeling of desperation growing, the unease overcoming him again. "Mom…"

Mary looked confused. "Cas? Who's Cas? I'm sorry, sweetie, I don't know who that is…"

Sam met her eyes, dumbstruck. "You know, Cas… Castiel! The angel…"

Mary's face drew tight in concern, and her gaze shifted away from him, glancing around until she saw Jess. "Jess! Jess, bring me some water for Sam, he's really not feeling well…"

Sam stands abruptly, pushing her gently aside and scanning the faces beginning to gather around him.  He turned back to Mary and grabbed her shoulders. "MOM! I feel fine, I just want to know where Cas is!" he cried.

His eyes fell on his brother… "Dean! Dean, c'mon you know… where's Cas? Bobby… Ellen…," His voice faded at the looks of incomprehension around him.

Then Jess was in front of him, her hands placed on either side of his face. "Stop it, Sam! Stop!" she growled, and her eyes… were they blue? Her hands were burning his face… and he began to scream.

=======================================

"Sam! Sam, wake up!"

A voice, deep and gravelly, and large warm hands gently patted his face.

His vision cleared and the eyes that met his were blue, but the blue of the ocean and warm as the sun.

Cas pulled a knife from his pocket, reached above him to cut the rope around his wrists, and caught Sam effortlessly as he slumped, lowering him gently to the ground.

"Cas… Cas, are you really here?" Sam whispered, barely able to get the words past his lips.

"Yes, Sam, it's me. You were captured by a djinn, trapped in a dream." He gestured to the still body of the djinn, unmoving on the floor.

Sam grinned wanly. "I kn… I knew it." He reached weakly up to grab Cas's shoulder, then slid up to pat his cheek before dropping his hand in exhaustion.

"You knew… what, Sam? That it was a dream?" Cas asked, puzzled. "How? What was the djinn making you see?"

"I was with Jess, at… at a family party. Mom's birthday…," he paused, and Cas held a canteen of water to his lips, which Sam gulped thirstily.

"Everyone was there," he continued, then met Cas' gaze. "Everyone… except you."

Cas ducked his head and Sam smiled, reaching to tilt Cas' chin up, meeting his gaze.

"Dead giveaway. I knew we would never have a family gathering without YOU."

#suptoberart2019 #supernatural #fanfic #Sam Winchester #castiel #djinn

[sammythankyou]

Beautiful Love - Part One

Far away, I can feel your beating heart All alone, beneath the crystal stars Staring into space, what a lonely face I'll try to find my place with you

“Beautiful Love” by The Afters

Summary:  The reader moves to Palos Verdes and ends up with a handsome tutor at her new high school.

Pairing:  Jim Mason x Female Reader

Warnings:  None really, unless you’re allergic to fluff

A/N:  I thought this was going to be a one shot, but there will be a second part.

“At Palos Verdes High School we believe in peer tutoring, So, if you need extra help you can sign up to work with one of our student tutors. And judging by your physics grade at your previous school, you should do that right away,” Mr. Whitman said, indicating his laptop which displayed the transcripts from your old high school. “You’re going to need a passing science grade if you want to graduate in June, young lady.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied, discreetly rolling your eyes. Like you would actually not want to graduate?

“The sign up sheets are posted right outside of your classroom,” he said dismissively, apparently finished with his lecture. 

Slinging your heavy backpack over your shoulder, you left the counseling office and made your way to the girl’s restroom. Locking yourself in a stall, you blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

You had been in Palos Verdes for exactly 72 hours. Your mother insisted this was a fresh start for both of you, a new beginning. So far, you were unconvinced.  

Six months earlier, you couldn’t have imagined that your life would be so changed. Returning home from a barbecue with your parents last summer, the car was struck by a drunk driver. Your dad had been killed instantly. The months following were empty, surreal and excruciatingly painful. On Christmas Eve, your mom announced she had accepted a job in Palos Verdes, CA, and the two of you would be moving there in one month. Furious and betrayed that she had not told you she had even been considering moving, you refused to speak to her for the rest of the holiday. 

And now here you were. First day in a new school, more than halfway through your senior year, hiding in the bathroom and trying not to cry.

The main door to the restroom banged open and a shrill voice pierced the silence. A girl was going on and on about someone named Jim and how amazing he was at eating her out. 

“Heather!” The other girl shrieked, scandalized. “You let him do that to you?”

“Of course I did!” retorted Heather. “God, he has the most talented tongue!” 

This day was turning into one giant eye roll. 

As unobtrusively as possible, you exited the stall to wash your hands. Two beautiful girls stood by the sinks, one blonde and one brunette, applying even more makeup to their already perfect faces. Twin glares pinned you before they flounced back out the door into the hallway. 

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you wondered how you were going to survive the next few months. 

Heather, the gorgeous, bitchy brunette was in your French and sociology classes, so you weren’t even surprised to find her seated in the back row when you entered your last class of the day; physics. Naturally, the teacher indicated an empty desk in the front row where you should sit. Sliding into the seat, you slouched down, willing yourself to become invisible. 

Just as the bell was ringing, a tall, beautiful boy with dark curly hair sailed through the door and into the desk next to yours. He turned his luminous blue eyes on you. 

“First day?” He asked, his smile showing his perfect white teeth.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. The boy started to say something else, but the teacher began talking and writing on the board. He shot another grin in your direction before turning his attention to the lesson. 

As class ended, the teacher called the lovely boy up to her desk to ask him a question. He winked at you as he stood up, blue eyes sparkling. 

You rarely got butterflies, but damn this boy was breathtaking. 

Sighing, you dragged yourself out of the classroom to find the tutoring sign up sheets. The first one read Jim Mason at the top of the paper. Most of the times were already filled, but there was one spot open for the following afternoon. After writing your name and cell number, you turned to leave. 

“Oh hey! You filled my last session. Cool!” Said a soft, friendly voice from your left. “I’m Jim by the way,” said the gorgeous boy, as he walked up to you. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N,” you said in greeting. His smile was infectious.

“My family moved here last year, so I know how it feels to be new kid. Things really sucked at first. This place isn’t so bad though,” Jim shrugged.  

“Jim!” An impatient voice came from the door of the classroom. 

Heather stood a few feet away, hands planted firmly on her curvy hips.  

“Hey, Heather,” Jim said with a deep sigh. 

Horrified, you stared between the two of them. This was Jim of the talented tongue? Oh god. Shuddering, you spun around to leave as fast as humanly possible. 

“Y/N!” Jim called after you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

Punching in the code on the keypad, you passed through the garage and into the empty house. Your mom was working nights at the hospital for the next few weeks. She had chirped with false cheer that the new doctor on staff always gets stuck with the graveyard shift at first. 

Wading through the sea of boxes still scattered around, you made you way to your bedroom. Collapsing onto the bed, your mind wandered back to Jim. He seemed so sweet and friendly, why he would be with someone like Heather? Or maybe he was just your typical player? Whatever. You didn’t try to shut his pale blue eyes or full pink lips out of your thoughts though. Sighing tiredly, you drifted off to sleep. 

The following day at school, Heather and her friends made sure to send you dirty looks while whispering every chance they got. Doing your best to ignore them, you went about your business. Walking to the physics classroom, you tried to shove down the anticipation at seeing Jim again. 

Jim was already in his seat, Converse covered feet kicked out in front of him. All momentary excitement evaporated as you spied Heather sitting on top your desk, facing him, bare legs dangling off the edge. A smile passed over Jim’s face when he saw you before he glanced back up at her.

“Can you move your ass off Y/N’s desk?” Jim asked pointedly. 

“I can move my ass wherever you’d like it hot stuff,” Heather said flirtatiously, batting her long eyelashes at him. 

Jim continued to smirk up at her, but said nothing. You rolled your eyes so hard you were pretty sure you saw your own brain. 

Heather slid slowly off your desk and headed toward the back of the room. “You’re just no fun sometimes Jimmy,” she threw out over her shoulder. 

Biting your tongue, you took a seat, and busied yourself with pulling items out of your backpack. You could feel Jim’s eyes watching as you stared down at your desk. 

“I don’t know why she acts like that,” Jim said in apology. 

Peeking over at him, you shrugged before looking away from his handsome face again.

“So,” Jim said brightly, changing the subject. “Do you want to head down to the beach for our tutoring session? It’s just a couple of blocks from here.” 

“The beach?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. “It’s a proven fact that sunlight helps you retain science knowledge.” 

Smiling back at him, you found it impossible to resist his charm. “Ok,” you agreed. 

“So where did you move from?” Jim asked as he reclined against a large rock that sheltered the two of you from the chilly wind coming off the Pacific. 

“Colorado,” you answered looking back into his beautiful blue eyes.

Jim nodded. “We moved from Minnesota last year. It’s a lot different here,” he said shaking his head. 

“I’m realizing that,” you said, staring out at the late afternoon waves. “There aren’t views like this around Denver.”

“The view is beautiful from where I’m sitting,” Jim said.

Glancing back, you found him staring directly at you. A blush colored your cheeks. Jim couldn’t possibly be referring to you. Could he? He gazed at you for another moment, before reaching for his backpack.  

“You want to go over some equations?” he asked with a smile. 

Physics became the best part of your day. Jim was an amazing teacher, but you also spent as much time just talking about your lives. His dad was a doctor like your mom. Jim talked about his parents’ divorce and his recent estrangement from his mother. Rubbing your back with his large hand, Jim listened as you explained your dad’s sudden passing. 

Working with Jim over the next two weeks, you managed a solid B on your first exam. After you excitedly showed him your grade, Jim grabbed you up in a bear hug and spun you around in the hallway. Catching Heather’s death stare from a few feet away, you reminded yourself for the millionth time that Jim was already taken. Taking one more look at his adorable, beaming face, you thanked him and said goodbye, already dreading a long, lonely weekend by yourself. 

“Y/N, wait!” Jim called after you. “Hey, I know it’s kinda lame, but do you want to go to the Valentine’s dance with me on Saturday?” 

It was hard to tell who was more shocked, you or Heather. 

Your gaze darted back and forth between both of their faces  “I, um... I have to go,” you stammered before fleeing down the hallway, away from Jim’s confused expression. 

Late morning sunlight filtered between the slats of the blinds covering your bedroom window. Rolling away from the offending light, you willed yourself to go back to sleep, not ready to face the lonely Saturday. Tossing and turning, you finally accepted defeat and dragged yourself out of bed. Wrapping yourself in a fluffy robe, you went to make some coffee. Several cups later you were more awake but just as melancholy. Your thoughts drifted back to the previous afternoon. Heather’s dismayed look popped into your mind. She had been nothing but nasty from day one, and yet you had to admit that Jim asking you out right in front of her was incredibly harsh. He just didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do something like that. But honestly, how well did you even know him? 

Doorbell chimes broke through the quiet of the house as you stood at the sink washing out the coffee mug. Unable to imagine who it could be, you made you way into the foyer and peered through the peep hole in the front door.

Jim Mason stood on your doorstep.

Picturing your bed head hair and lack of makeup, you briefly considered not even answering the door. Screw it, you thought, as your curiosity got the better of you. Pulling your robe tighter, you opened the door. 

Jim’s gorgeous face lit up when he saw you. “Hey. How’s it going?” he asked.

“What are you doing here Jim?”

Jim shrugged. “You ran off so fast yesterday,” he began. “I don’t know, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” 

Secretly, you were pleased that Jim even thought about checking on you before you shook those thoughts off. “I’m ok I guess...” Realizing you were just staring at each other, you stepped back. “Um, do you want to come in?” 

Smiling, Jim nodded and followed you into the kitchen. 

“Coffee?” You asked indicating the half full pot on the counter. 

“Sure. Thank you,” Jim answered politely.

After pouring coffee into a mug and depositing it next to Jim along with the vanilla creamer, you stood fidgeting across the breakfast bar from him.

“So, you never answered my question,” Jim said, breaking the silence. 

“What question?”

Jim’s luminous eyes pinned you. “I asked if you wanted to go to the dance with me tonight.” 

Of course the truth was that you wanted to go out with Jim more than anything, but stealing a popular girl’s boyfriend wasn’t really going to help you make friends. Plus, why was he even asking you and not Heather?

“Jim! Why are you doing this?” You asked incredulously. 

“What am I doing?” Jim questioned. 

Sighing deeply, you looked back into his big blue eyes.  “Look, I like you Jim. A lot. And I’m not exactly a fan of Heather, but that was mean what you did.” 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, confusion written all over his lovely face.  

“She’s your girlfriend!” You said in disbelief. “And she was standing right there when you asked me to go to the dance with you.”

“Heather’s not my girlfriend,” Jim began. “I mean, yeah we hung out a few times when I moved here last year, but that’s it.”

Staring at him in confusion, you opened your mouth but no words came out.

“Why did you think she was my girlfriend?” Jim questioned. 

Biting your lip, you hesitated. “She said... I mean I overheard... Just never mind. Sorry,” you stammered, grabbing the creamer and taking it back to the fridge.

“Wait, what did she say?” Jim asked standing up and following you around the breakfast bar.

Cheeks flaming with embarrassment as you remembered her words, you avoided Jim’s eyes. 

“She was talking to her friend about how good you are with your tongue, like you know... When you were eating her out,” you said, the last words mumbled under your breath.

“When I was what?” Jim questioned.

Covering your red face briefly, you tried to figure out how you ended up having this mortifying discussion. 

Dropping your hands, you looked Jim in the eyes. “When you were eating her out.” 

Jim stared at you silently for a few seconds.

“Wow. That’s awesome,” Jim said rolling his eyes. “And nasty! There’s no telling where that chick has been,” he shuddered, pretending to gag. 

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up out of your throat. 

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” Jim asked grabbing you around your waist and trying to tickle you. 

Squirming, you tried to escape Jim’s big hands, but he blocked you in against the open fridge. Your laughter died in your throat as you met his icy blue gaze. He cupped your cheek and then he was leaning down to press his soft pink lips against yours. Sliding your arms around Jim’s neck, you returned the kiss. Tingles traveled up your spine as his tongue swiped across your lower lip, asking for entrance. You opened to him and Jim’s velvety tongue slid slowly into your mouth, tangling with your own. Threading your fingers through his thick soft hair you deepened the kiss. Jim’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your bodies close, as your mouths slanted together hungrily. Abruptly pulling back, Jim looked down with concern.

“I’m sorry! Are you cold?” Jim asked pulling you away from the fridge so he could close the door. 

“No,” you said, admiring his full lips.

Jim watched you staring and then your mouths were crashing back together. Slowly, your hands found their way under Jim’s denim jacket and around his lean waist. Jim gripped the back of your robe in his long fingers, holding you against his chest. His lips traveled across your cheek to your ear. 

“So does this mean you’ll go to the dance with me?” He asked, warm breath tickling your skin. 

Tagging...

@venusxxlangdon @lovelylangdonx @sojournmichael @allyadarth @langdons-rep @queencocoakimmie @kaigitana @uinen-ulmiel @sunshinemycat @langdvnshepherd @elena-75s-blog @bbyduncan @rocketgirl2410 @depressedbitch43 @flowing-imagination @witchbloodsworld @napping-is-my-favorite @langdondelrey @lennonlemon @itsnomystery @winxfred @soomishuwu @i-monky @thedeviltohisangel @frogmuttforever @manahime193 @deeppaperbatapricot @kleineshaeschen @bookobsssesed99 @wheredoiwhaaat25 @drama-penguins@dramapenguinthe3rd @divinelangdon @moltenskeleton @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @ms-mead @divinelangdon @softlangdon @dyns33 @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @nightsblackroses @omgsuperstarg @whope123 @urmomgayforlettuce @micheallangdons @langdonsinferno @redrxbel @blakewaterxx @michael-langdon-appreciation @nickisgirl

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed

#jim mason x reader #jim mason x you

[mattzerella-sticks]

Drop the Act (Dean/Cas, Sam-centric fic, Post-Canon, 3.5k)

After defeating the Empty, Sam thought all the surprises were done for. Cas was saved, was human, and the Winchesters were a complete family unit doing what they do best: hunting monsters and saving people. He didn't account for his brother and angel best friend to manage one final surprise after coming back from a routine hunt in Florida.

But that's what happens when you don't see what's been happening right in front of you for a year.

(Love to my #SPNFamily)

(Link to ao3)

           Sam enjoyed the Bunker these past two weeks while Dean and Cas were away. It was a vacation filled with dusty archives and suspenseful podcasts, eating when he wanted to and not having to put his research away while he did it.

           There were a few interruptions, like phone calls from his mom checking in. Making sure Sam didn’t neglect basic care for translating more texts. He was offended when Mary suggested he take a night off and step out from the underground. So Sam wouldn’t become, in her words, a ‘hermit’.

           His entire time alone wasn’t spent holed away from the world; Sam jogged in the early mornings – when he remembered to sleep at a normal time. And every other day he’d set aside a half-hour for yoga among the trees. Mary still wasn’t satisfied at that, remarking how little he interacted with others in his downtime. Rolling his eyes, Sam told her he hadn’t any need. The kitchen was well stocked before Dean left, and unlike his brother Sam learned how to control his portions.

           Sam wasn’t avoiding people; he found no need to seek others out. But when they came, he didn’t turn them away. Even with Dean and Cas out, Jack stayed with him. He, too, was uninvited from the hunt. They left each other alone for the most part, both busy with their own things. If he saw Jack, though, he wouldn’t ignore him. Sam invited his angelic son along with him the other day when he took interest with his yoga mat. Jack didn’t get farther than the warrior pose, but he had fun with it.

           So Sam had no problem being around people. He just appreciated his alone time, especially after a rough couple of months. Drowning in back-to-back hunts, he needed to lock himself down and recharge his batteries. Dean and Cas finding their own hunt, one he wasn’t asked to go on, was a sign. The peace and quiet lifted Sam’s spirits. He wasn’t bombarded with loud music, the clatter of pots and pans, distracting chatter and loud, suspicious noises at strange times. Wherever those two went, a commotion was hanging overhead like heavy, dark clouds.

           When he heard the slam of the Bunker door though, he knew his serenity was shattered. He shut his book with a sigh, glancing up as Dean and Cas descended the staircase with suitcases in hand.

           The hunt was in Florida, closer to Miami than Orlando. Now back in Kansas, they still looked ready for the beach. Dean wore a calm t-shirt of a muted grey color, a complete opposite to Cas’s loud rainbow colored Hawaiian shirt. They both also had on board shorts and flip-flops. Sunglasses were loss in the bird’s nest of Cas’s dark hair while Dean’s was hidden by his backwards cap. The entire walk down the stairs, the two bickered with relaxed grins stretched across their tan faces. Cas’s skin was even more bronzed than usual, while Dean’s body shone with star-like freckles.

           Even after a year, Sam found Cas a strange sight when out of his holy tax accountant armor. Picking out a wardrobe was one of the many things Dean taught Cas after becoming human. He didn’t mind, sticking by their friend’s side through it all. He forgot much of what he already learned for his first stint, and the process the second time around was anything but easy. Dean’s resolve never wavered, helping Cas develop his routines and explore his tastes. “What I should have done the first time around,” Dean said.

           “Hey guys,” Sam waved at them, “Didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”

           Dean nodded, dropping his stuff at the head of the table. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We kinda lost track of time and forgot to call…”

           “To be fair,” Cas said laying his own luggage beside Dean’s, “I assumed Dean had already done so before we left the motel.”

           He rolled his eyes. “When could I have? I wasn’t out of your sight that entire morning.” Dean sat, continuing. “Besides, I thought I told you to text Sam when we stopped for the night in Illinois?”

           “That’s your fault,” Cas told him, taking the chair to Dean’s left for himself. “My thumb hit the wrong button because of somebody –“

           “Oh like that was a problem for you,” Dean cut him off, beaming. Cas matched it in intensity, their smiles glowing with radiant bliss.

           Sam cleared his throat, dragging their attention to him before the pull between them was too strong. “I’m glad you’re both home,” he said, glancing between the two, “the Bunker hasn’t been the same since you left…”

           Dean nudged Cas, chuckling. “That’s moose-talk for he wanted a few more days without us.”

           Glaring, Sam decided to not snag the bait. Instead, he asked them to share how the hunt went. They were tightlipped with the details over the phone, really only connecting with him through text. Sam’s digitization made accessing the Bunker’s resources much easier, but also took away any help he could offer.

           They told the story in halves, both of them interrupting the other at the oddest times with little facts and quips. It was hard to follow along at times, but Sam understood the gist of it.

           A shifter was targeting couples involved with a retreat program built to counsel married couples through communication problems. Sam snuck in a quick jab, wondering that if this hunt happened maybe years earlier things would have been different.

           “Yuck it up,” Dean scoffs, “But some of that shit was actually helpful… if you wanted to be some kind of new age freak in touch with your emotions.”

           “Anyway,” Cas course corrected, knocking shoulders with Dean, “we managed to sign up before the next session began so we could investigate.”

           “Turns out Cas asks questions better when he’s out of the Fed suit.”

           Sam stifles back a chuckle after Cas smacks Dean on the shoulder with a soft thwack. “At least I was asking questions. Half the time you were either on the beach or by the pool –“

           “It sucked enough that there was a shifter there, I was trying to make the most of our trip.”

           “We still managed to enjoy ourselves, after taking care of the monster…”

           Dean sighed, scratching at his neck. “Yeah that’s true.”

           Sam looked between the two, brow raised. “So, how did you take care of it?”

           The hunt barely lasted longer than three days, the extended time because Dean and Cas had trouble testing the staff with silver. Dean pouted, “Seriously, using the rings was a good start until you get called in to a session with a therapist about commitment and cheating.” He waggled his fingers, flashing the silver band towards him. Sam spied Cas’s hand resting on the table, wearing a similar ring.

           Cas smiled at Dean, eyes shining with warmth. “Although I did enjoy your very passionate defense when she assumed you took our marriage as seriously as a… what did she say? ‘Like a teen does his curfew’?”

           “She was bonkers,” Dean growled, “Just wanted to separate us, get us out of the way. Figured… since she was the shifter.”

           “She was?” Sam asked, “Did you gank her right then?”

           “We didn’t realize until later,” he said, “Much later.”

           Dean and Cas got into an argument after the meeting with the therapist. He was hurt and blowing off steam, and by doing that drew unwanted attention their way. “It didn’t matter what she or any of them thought,” Cas told them, “We were there for one thing –“

           “I didn’t take that well either,” Dean admitted, sheepishly darting his eyes back and forth between Cas and the table. “Stormed off to be alone for awhile… mainly sat by the surf and watched it tickle my toes.”

           “While I involved myself in the activities,” Cas said, “Until Dean came to apologize.”

           Sam eyes his friend, “That… sounds ominous.”

           Dean chuckled, “That’s because it wasn’t me.”

           The shifter decided to corner Cas on his way to the pottery lesson, dragging him away to a hidden alcove. Fake Dean took every measure to appear reticent, and quoted a lot of their history back at Cas. He shrugged at Sam. “She did her research.” Cas was ready to forgive Dean, waiting for him to take the first step. It was only when she suggested they seal their argument with some make-up sex did Cas figure out it wasn’t Dean.

           Sam rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time a monster read more into his brother’s relationship with their friend. And for once it played to their benefit. He shot off a quick prayer that Dean got used to those types of digs. Before, he would scowl for days and butch it up. Now any mention brought out a wry chuckle and a soft look. Sam couldn’t imagine his brother would have been okay faking a relationship with another man a decade ago. He’s really grown, becoming comfortable with his sexuality.

           “I stabbed her in the heart when she tried unbuttoning my pants,” Cas said.

           Dean leaned into him and smirked. “And that’s when I found them.”

           Sam spluttered. “You did?”

           “Oh yeah, was walking, working up the courage to see Cas and… let’s just say it didn’t make me feel better stumbling on that.”

           “You knew what it was, though,” Cas comforted him, hand disappearing under the table, “All the times I said I wanted to kill you meant nothing in that moment.”

           “Oh yeah that moment…”

           Sam watched them slip into another one of their moods. Where Dean stared at Cas, and vice versa. Nothing could pierce the veil created when both men communicated with only their eyes. When they started these, Sam felt left out. He wanted that closeness, where someone could know what he was feeling with a single glance. Through the years he got over it, though. What Dean and Cas shared couldn’t be replicated. Now all he felt was a fond annoyance. In the early years, he could count these special interactions with both hands. But then that number grew exponentially. After they got Cas back from the Empty, it rocketed near infinity. Sam knew why.

           Dean and Cas were best friends, the former angel an official Winchester brother. Losing him after Lucifer stabbed him was like cutting off a limb. The Empty, two limbs. In the ceremony freeing Cas from that void, Dean vowed to never let any power come between them. His conviction, a powerful magic in itself, forced the Empty into slumber. Not before it shrouded the two as the final words were spoken. They broke the curse hanging over them, and all it cost was Cas’s grace.

           “I don’t need it, not anymore,” he said, once they settled back in the Bunker, “Not when I have my family.”

           Sam cleared his throat, breaking their intense focus. Back for less than an hour, and he had his fill of them. He asked what happened for the rest of the hunt. “You wrapped it up so quickly… but you were there longer?”

           “Dude, we were in Florida,” Dean said, “Vacation.”

           “Seriously?”

           “Hell yeah,” his brother grinned, teeth sharp and white. “Do you know there are nude beaches in Florida –“

           “Gross, I don’t want to hear it –“

           “It’s just the human body, Sam.”

           “Whatever.”

           Dean turned to Cas. “I think he’s gotten his fill of us already.”

           “Then we might as well unpack,” Cas sighed, standing, “I’m feeling kind of ripe.” As he stood, Dean did as well; the reason being their joined hands, as Sam noticed. He gaped at them, unnoticed. “I’d kill for a shower right now.”

           “Well I hope not me,” Dean joked, leading them away.

           Before they could get too far, Sam found his voice. “Guys?” he yelped, voice cracking near the end. Dean and Cas glanced back, free hands hovering over their bags. “What are you… what’s going on?”

           “We’re heading to our room, Sam,” Dean said, “What else does it look like?” Whispering to Cas, he talked from the corner of his mouth. “Someone had his nose in the books too long…”

           “Our room?” Sam parroted, “What are…” In an instant his face shifted, smoothing out into a familiar expression. He set the tired lines of his bitch face to radiate the most annoyance with his brother’s actions. “Okay, I get it. Ha ha… good one.”

           “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out,” Dean stepped closer worryingly, “Talk to me Sammy. Tell me what’s the matter.”

           “That shifter sure got you wrong,” Sam muttered, returning to his book, “You sure seem committed to this bit.”

           “What ‘bit’?”

           “Seriously, Dean, the case is over. You and Cas can drop the married act now.” He wanted to finish the chapter. It’s difficult when his brother and friend are glaring at him with righteous fury. If he didn’t already know Cas lost his powers, he’d be very concerned for his well-being. “What?”

           “Sam,” Cas started, “Dean and I are married.”

           The bombshell that dropped before him sounded suspiciously like his book slipping through his fingers. It was a contest, which would blink first him or them. Sam waited for the ringing in his ears stop before asking. “W-what?”

           All fight drained from Dean and Cas, each sneaking looks at each other before shooting Sam twin looks of concern. “Sam,” Dean tried, reaching a hand out, “are you okay –“

           “I should be asking you that,” Sam leapt to his feet, eyeing him for any clues. “Were you sure it was only a shifter. This isn’t like a spell or anything?” He dragged his fingers across Dean’s chest, as if a hex bag was taped there like a recording device.

           Dean bat his hands away. “Dude, the hell? No there weren’t any witches. Me and Cas are married.”

           “You’re serious?” Sam asked them, eyes wide, “You guys got married in Florida?”

           “No, Sam,” Cas said, “Dean and I have been married for a while… we celebrated our anniversary in Florida.”

           “…What?”

           “Yeah,” Dean continued, drawing Cas in closer, “One year. Why do you think we didn’t want anyone else coming with us?”

           “Because…because you didn’t need us for the hunt?”

           “When we went there was no hunt,” Dean sighed, “Except Winchester luck made it so we had ourselves a working vacation. You’re lucky we managed to salvage what was left so we weren’t coming back cranky. Although… ‘m not feeling too good now.”

           “Oh my God, you two… I can’t believe this…” Sam sank back down into his seat, tugging at his hair. “A… a year? How… When?”

           “You were there, Sam,” Cas said, “all of you were. Mary, Bobby… Jack, Claire, Jody, Donna and the girls… Chuck –“

           “Hold on,” Sam cut him off, “When we dragged your ass back from the Empty?”

           “Yeah,” Dean said, “Weren’t you listening when Chuck explained?”

           Sam blushed, finding his lap more interesting than the conversation. He remembered when Chuck showed them the parchment. On it was a way to rip Cas’s grace out and put it back into his body. He’d still be connected to the Empty, until the second part purified his body of any connection with the entity. And because of that, the Empty still had Cas’s wings, but his soul belonged to humanity. That’s all Sam thought he needed to know. He tuned Chuck out in favor of going over the scroll himself; confident he would understand it better that way. It was illegible, and Sam was too embarrassed to ask Chuck to clarify.

           “But,” Sam tried to save some of his dignity, “You two didn’t really change much. How was I supposed to know all of that was a… wedding ceremony?”

           Dean smirked, knocking heads with Cas. “We’re too old to act like animals, ripping our clothes off wherever. Didn’t need to, anyway. Me and Cas were always close… so there wasn’t that big a change. Just more options to express what was already there.”

           “Although it was me who stopped Dean from getting too frisky in public areas,” Cas sighed, “He didn’t care if you were to walk in on us.”

           “Should’ve let him. I bet there wouldn’t have been any confusion if he saw us –“

           “I don’t even want the mental image,” Sam said, face redder than before.

           His misery garnered a healthy chuckle from his brother. Dean wiped a tear from his eye, “Oh man, Sammy. How could you not notice for a year? You’re the one who’s always harping on the details. Oh – oh – and you even told me the next time I watch porn to wear headphones? Sam, I haven’t had the need to watch porn for so long you heard me and Cas going at it!”

           “Stop!” Sam cried, shoving his hands over his ears, “I’m going to murder you!”

           “Please, Sam, not my husband. Only I’m allowed to kill him,” Cas said blandly. His eyes feigned boredom but there was a smirk curling across his face.

           “I can’t have been the only one who didn’t know.”

           “Know what?” Jack asked, stepping into the room; his frown at Sam’s posture immediately transformed into a smile when noticing Dean and Cas. “Hey! When did you two get back?”

           Dean waved his question away, instead asking one of his own. “Jack, me and Cas? What are we?”

           “…My dads?”

           “No,” he sighed, flashing his hand at him. “What do these rings signify?”

           “Oh! That you and Cas are married!”

           Sam paled at the answer, Dean’s boastful grin leeching the color from him. “You knew?”

           “Of course, Sam,” Jack said, “It was their one year anniversary.”

           “This isn’t making any sense,” Sam muttered to himself, “Why didn’t I…”

           “Mom was in tears for days, Sam. And you thought Claire was joking when she called me dad? Christ, Chuck gave me his blessing and officiated. Even Amara sent a gift, and it wasn’t dad rising from the grave.” He heard Dean swallow, and then a hand on his shoulder. Sam looked up into his brother’s eyes, any and all mirth gone. “You, uh… you’re okay that me and Cas… that we’re…”

           Sam bit back a curse, hating himself for how he was acting. “Of course, Dean. It was… I was shocked is all. I mean… one whole year? And I didn’t even know, didn’t congratulate either of you…”

           “I thought you did, for what it’s worth,” Dean said, “‘You look happy, Dean. How does it feel to have a no-strings attached win?’” Those were the exact words Sam said to him after the Empty’s tentacles slithered away. A tear hangs precariously from the corner of Sam’s eyes.

           “I meant it,” Sam nodded, “Especially now that I know you and Cas are married. Are in love.” The words sat right on Sam’s tongue. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure how he kept the blindfolds on for so long. Love was the only explanation for the way Dean and Cas looked at each other. For how Cas always has a cup of coffee for Dean ready when he wakes up. For Dean buying books for Cas whenever they head out on hunts, the former angel’s collection already taking up one shelf in the Library. Sam swiped at his eyes, launching himself forward to crush Dean into a hug. “You deserve this, Dean.” Dean muttered something under breath, tugging Cas over with their still joined hands. He opens his vice-like grip long enough to crush the other man in, too. “So do you, Cas.”

           “All right, all right,” Dean freed himself, fighting the sweet smile unfurling, “That was enough of a chick-flick moment for today.”

           Cas nodded. “Dean is all chick-flicked out. We spent last night marathoning Bridget Jones after I lost the coin flip.”

           “Cas,” Dean whined, “You’re my husband. You took a vow to always be on my side.”

           “I made no such promise,” Cas chuckled, twining his arms around Dean’s neck, “All I committed to was loving you,” he pecked at Dean’s lips, “cherishing you,” again, “and honoring you,” and again, “until I take my last breath. Nowhere in there did I ‘vow’ to never make fun of you.”

           “You’re an ass.”

           “Yes, but I’m your ass.”

           Sam and Jack exchanged amused glances. “All right,” Sam cut them off before they bickered some more, “We get it. You’re together. You don’t have to prove it anymore.”

           “This?” Dean asked, “This ain’t proof. You want proof you can watch us have sex.”

           Sam frowned, scrunching his nose up in disgust. “Yuck. I told you Dean, I didn’t want the image of you sticking it to Cas.”

           Dean stepped backwards, mouth nearly cracking in half by how wide his grin is. “Other way around, moose brains.” He winked, delighting in the stuttered outrage from his brother.

           “Really?!?”

           “Of course, Sam,” Cas said, Dean already disappearing down the hallway, “How do you think I knew it wasn’t the real Dean?” The pointed stare brought the flush back onto his cheeks. Cas blipped out of sight after that, his and Dean’s laughter both mocking and comforting.

           Sam shook his head, the smile still in place on his face. “You two… made for each other.” He enjoyed his alone time, but always made time for his family. He always will. Things may change, can end or begin anew, but family will be eternal.

#Supernatural #Spn #supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #Jack Kline #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfiction #spnfamily

[bottomcas-zone]

Mechanic!Dean/Rich!Castiel Teen Destiel

Dean was under the hood of an old best up car when he heard the bell ding to indicate someone had come in. Not even a few seconds later he heard the gruff of Bobby’s voice as he talked to the new customers. Curiosity struck the boy when he saw a brand new 1969 Dodge Charger. He whistled lowly at the shining new girl and suddenly wanted to meet the person who owned it.

He cleaned his hands with an old rag the best he could before walking through the door. The man Bobby was talking to wasn’t what Dean expected.

“Dean! I would like you to meet Chuck. He recently moved her with his family.” Bobby said as he gestured towards the short man. Dean waved at him and his eyes wandered towards the boy who was most likely hiding behind the man.

“That’s his son, Castiel.” Bobby continued before he turned back to Chuck. The two men continued on with their conversation while Dean and Castiel stared at each other.

It was weird. Dean didn’t expect some rich family coming down their garage of all places. Based on the shiney car and their clothes people would just know.

Castiel was sitting there with an innocent smile on his face and letting his eyes wander around the garage. Dean took a minute to look over the boy’s outfit and body. Oh, the things he could do to this innocent boy.

His thoughts were interrupted by his boss calling out his name. “I’m going with Chuck to see what’s wrong with his car.” Bobby gave Dean a pointed look before following Chuck. The boy nodded. The look meant to look after Castiel and make sure he didn’t do anything bad. What would he even do? He was a scrawny little kid who looked like he would rather be at home than this stinking garage.

Dean sighed and shook his head before going back to work on the old car. He was under the hood in no time and looking it over to make sure he had done everything correctly.

“You work here?”

Dean jumped and hit his head against the hood. He groaned loudly and shut the hood before turning around to glare at the boy. “Your mom ever teach you to not sneak on people?”

“No. I never met her.” Castiel ducked his head and blushed. Dean frowned and immediately regretted at what he said.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t of said that. You just startled me.” Dean rub at the sore spot and sighed.

“I know I shouldn’t of snuck up on you. I just didn’t know what to do while I waited for my father.” Castiel shrugged and went ahead to circle around the car and observe it.

“Well, I work here for your previous question, and it does get boring here I admit.” Dean frowned as he watched the boy move around the garage.

“That’s why I like wandering around.” Castiel hummed as he stopped in front of Dean. “And I like the view of you,” he said shyly.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprised at the confession. “Is this your way of flirting, rich boy?”

“I’m not very good at it in all honesty.” Castiel blushed and looked away from Dean’s intense gaze. The gesture made the older boy smirk.

“You’re doing just fine, Cas.” Dean reached out to stroke Cas’ jaw and left a dirty print behind. Cas leaned into the touch and smiled softly up at him. Dean was breathlessly at the sight.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean’s stroking was getting more aggressive to the point where he gripped Cas’ chin and pulled him in closely. “What’s your daddy going to think when he sees his sweet little boy getting ravished by the mechanic.”

“Well, I don’t think my father will care, and I don’t have a daddy unless you want to be mine.” Cas winked and giggled.

Dean felt like he stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. That idea gave Cas a reaction he wanted. This was new to Dean, and he will look more into it later on. For now, he wanted to throw this innocent boy down and fuck the daylights out of him. He let go of the boy’s chin and pinned him against one of the many cars in the garage. Cas squeaked when Dean lifted him to place him on top of the hood. The older boy brought him into a kiss and Cas immediately melted into it. He sighed softly and had a dazed look on his face when Dean pulled away.

Dean was fumbling with his work clothes and that’s when Cas’ brain started to function again. He reached into between them and unbuckled his slacks before sliding them down the best he could. Dean had a tight grip on him and wasn’t letting him go anytime soon. Once they got rid of their pants Dean started to kiss him again. To distract Cas from the experience slick fingers prodding against his hole.

Cas was trying to figure out how Dean’s fingers were wet but every thought went out the window when the first finger slid inside him. He broke the kiss with a moan and leaned his head back. Dean immediately launched onto the smaller boy’s neck to leave dark marks behind. Cas was filthy with the hickies he was sporting and the grease stains from the mechanic.

With three fingers thrusting into Cas Dean thought he was ready. He pulled out his fingers and used the rest of the lube to slick himself up. Cas was vibrating with anticipation as he wrapped his legs around Dean. His fingers scrapped against the hood of the car as he looked up at the boy.

Dean looked into those piercing blue eyes and gripped Cas’ hips for leverage. He pushed into the boy and dropped his head against Cas’ shoulder at the new sensation of Cas’ heat surrounding his cock. Both boys weren’t going to last but they were going to make the best of it.

Dean started slamming into Cas who held on for the ride. It hurt at first, but he eventually grew used to Dean’s size and started to feel pleasure that made his eyes roll back. He was gasping Dean’s name out and felt his white dress shirt stick to his hot skin. He didn’t focus on that though and instead focused on how beautiful Dean’s green eyes were.

And when Dean nudged Cas’ prostate the boy couldn’t keep his noises quiet. Dean wondered how loud he could make the boy. He just knew he was a screamer, but he’ll confirm his theory next time. For now, he didn’t want to get caught. He clamped a hand over Cas’ mouth and kept on thrusting into the boy.

Cas tensed up in Dean’s grasp and came in between them. He started to shake from the aftershocks and nuzzled his face into Dean’s neck. He squeezed tightly around Dean’s cock which made the older boy falter. His thrusts became lazy and his hips started to stutter as he came.

Cas ran a hand over Dean’s sweaty hair until the boy got a hold of himself. He lifted his head and looked at Cas who had a dazzling smile on his face. Dean pulled away from the boy and started to put his work clothes back on. He even helped Cas put his slacks back on and tried to clean off the fluids on their clothes the best he could.

The smaller boy slid off the car and his legs started to wobbly. Dean caught him before Cas could collapse. “Oh. I can’t even walk.” Cas giggled and held onto Dean until his legs stopped shaking. Once he didn’t need help Dean pulled away and tried to fix his tie and hair.

“I think you’re good.” Dean smiled. He grabbed a pen from his breast pocket and grabbed Cas’ hand to write his number. “Call me, babe. I’ll be waiting by the phone.” He winked.

Cas nodded. “Of course,” he said seriously.

Bobby and Chuck entered the garage again. “Let’s go, Castiel. We’ll be back in a few hours.” He nodded at his son. Cas looked at Dean then at his father. When Chuck turned his back on them Cas made his way over to his father with a limp. Dean bit down on his bottom lip to contain his laughter.

Bobby had noticed of course and glared at Dean. “For the love of god, Dean; couldn’t you of had sex somewhere else instead of the garage?”

“Sorry, old man. I’m just irresistible.”

[67-chevy-baby]

Something New

Ship - Cockles - Single!Jensen x Single!Misha

Rating - 18+ Only!!!!

Tags - First-time m/m sex, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming, oral (male receiving), mentions of coming out, mentions of not being accepted, anxiety, angst, fluff, smut, comfort, drinking, and language

Word Count - 3800 ish … I’m not even remotely sorry lol

Beta - The amazing @kittenofdoomage :) I am forever grateful to her.

Misha flirted a lot. Everyone knew this and accepted it as a part of his outgoing nature. Jensen, on the other hand, still hadn't grown accustomed to the lingering touches and longing stares from his best friend. It wasn't that it made him uncomfortable, no it was very much the opposite.

He tried to ignore the way his heart sped up every time Misha's fingers grazed his skin or the way he held him when they would hug, but it was impossible. Jensen didn't want to admit it. He was supposed to be straight, find a nice woman and give his Mother and Father the grandkids they wanted. Instead, he was having an internal battle with his mind on whether or not his male co-star was hot or not.

Jensen sighed and rubbed at his temples lightly. Currently, he was reading over the newest script for one of the upcoming episodes. People probably thought that playing Dean should have come to him naturally by now since he played him on TV for the better part of thirteen years. Sometimes it was more complicated than just 'getting into character' though.

Certain scenes, much like the one he was reading now, involved Cas and Dean staring into each other's eyes for a longer than normal period of time. That part didn't bother him as much. It was the stage direction that was written in the script. Of course, he didn't write the script or the stage directions so he didn't really have much of a say in how their characters did things.

Jensen stared down at the off-white paper. His eyes re-reading the same bold print that menacingly stared back up at him.

INT. THE BUNKER, DAY

There's tension between Dean and Cas from a previous argument.  They eye fuck for approx. 30-45 seconds until Sam clears his throat to get their attention.

He swallowed thickly wishing the direction would change probably for the umpteenth time now.

Couldn't they have picked a better way to word this?

A sudden knock at his trailer door made him jump. He tossed the script onto his coffee table before walking across the room to unlock it. The familiar silhouette of Jared should have put his mind at ease, but he knew his best friend of so many years would notice something was bothering him. Deciding there was no point in avoiding the inevitable, he flung open the door to let him in.

"Hey Jare"

Jared walked up the two stairs into Jensen's trailer and plopped down on his sectional.

"You're awfully quiet today, Jackles. What's going on?"

Jensen sighed running a hand across his face. Good thing he hadn't been to hair and makeup yet. He didn't wanna piss anyone off this early in the day. Grabbing two beers, he tossed one to Jared and sat down.

"I don't really wanna talk about it. Not like there's anything anyone can do about it anyway."

He took a long pull of his beer while Jared studied him. He watched Jensen's eyes glance at the stapled packet of papers quickly before focusing on the view from the window.

"It's something from today's shoot isn't it, Jay?"

Jared picked up the papers and leaned back against the couch. Jensen didn't try and stop him, but he didn't elaborate either. He just sat and watched as the taller Texan read over the page he'd been mulling over a few minutes ago.

"I don't see anything wrong wi-"

Jared stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at Jensen. He scooted slightly closer and pointed to the middle of the page.

"It's the 'eye fucking' part isn't it?"

Jensen looked away, picked at a loose string in the hem of his jeans. The beer bottle rested loosely against his lips as he took another swig.

"Jensen, you should really tell him, you know."

It was a miracle the beer didn't come out his nose. It took him a minute to stop choking and gain his breath back. The blush creeping up the side of his neck as he looked down at his lap.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jared."

Once again the script was tossed carelessly on the coffee table. Jared scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh c'mon, Jay! You can't possibly think I believe you. I know how you feel about Mish, and I think you do, too. It's okay to admit that you got a thing for him, and frankly, I think you should talk to him about it. I mean look at it this way, how many times have we told fans that it's okay to be yourself. Love is love, and honestly, I think Misha feels the same way."

Jensen let out a defeated sigh. He should have known better. He and Jared can read each other like a book, and sometimes that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"I can't tell him, Jared. I'm not supposed to feel things like this for another man. My parents didn't bring me up this way. I'm just going to grin and bear it until we get through shooting this. I'm an actor. I can just push my feelings aside until this is all over with."

Jared set his bottle down and repositioned himself so he was facing him. Jensen looked miserable. He was clearly stressing way too much over this. He was pale and dark circles lingered under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"Jay, that's bullshit and you know it! You can't control the way you feel for someone. It doesn't matter how your parents wanted you to turn out. What does matter is who you want to be. If the real you is attracted to both men and women, then so be it. If your Mom and Dad can't accept you for who you are, then they aren't taking your best interest to heart."

Jensen rested his head in his hands and shook his head.

"Even if they miraculously accept the fact that I have a crush on Mish, how the hell am I going to tell him? I have no idea how I'll get the words out, let alone bring it up."

Jared stood up and walked toward the liquor cabinet. He pulled a bottle of Crown Royal from the top shelf and blew the dust off.

“Sounds like you could use some stronger liquid courage.”

Now it was Jensen’s turn to scoff. He watched as Jared grabbed two glasses from one of the cabinets and put a couple cubes of ice in them.

“I can’t shoot these scenes drunk off my ass Jared. Bob will have my head.”

If Jared heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he focused on pouring them each a glass. Handing one to Jensen, he sat back down and sipped at his slowly. After a minute of looking between his glass and his best friend, he sighed and licked his lips.

“Ah what the hell, why not? Gotta get through today’s shooting somehow.”

Forty-five minutes later everyone was on the Bunker set setting up for the next scene. The crew was getting the lighting perfected while the director, who just happened to be none other than Richard Speight Jr., conversed with Misha across the room. Jensen shifted his weight nervously and tried to look anywhere else. His eyes kept finding their way back to him though.

Even though their characters wore layers upon layers of clothing, Jensen could still tell Misha had been working out. His thighs were well defined in the black slacks, how the tan fabric of Castiel’s trench coat hugged his biceps made his mouth water, and the way his hair was tousled sent image after naughty image through his mind.

Jensen bit his lip and looked away. There was no way he was surviving this scene. Misha had him hook, line, and sinker, and the way things were looking he was going to end up walking offset before they had a usable take. Before he was able to dwell on it any longer, fingers snapped in his face bringing him back to reality.

“Hellooo! Jensen? You okay man? We’re ready to start, but if you need a minute we-”

Jensen pushed past Rich and stood on his mark that was taped to the floor.

“I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”

Misha studied him, his piercing cerulean eyes making him shiver. Jared walked around the table and sat in front of the open laptop. Things were eerily quiet between the three of them. Normally, they would be joking around until the moment action was called.

Rich took a seat in the director's chair and looked through the camera one more time making sure the angle of the shot was right before turning his attention back to them.

“Roll sound!”

One of the crew members came in with a slate board and held it in front of the camera.

“Supernatural scene thirty-two, take one! Marker!”

Rich took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other. He knew this was an intense scene so he was mentally preparing himself to do more than one take.

“Action!”

Misha walked around the table holding a tattered old book. Jensen eyed him furiously as he snatched it out of his hand.

“Dammit, Cas! I know we needed this book, but I told you not to do anything stupid!”

Misha tilted his head sideways narrowing his eyes. The hand that was holding the book now rested rigidly at his side, his fingers curled into a fist.

“Dean, this was probably our only chance for us to get this book! I took a chance and brought it back unharmed. I did it for you! You want to save your brother don’t you?”

Jensen slammed the book on the table a little too hard causing Jared to jump. It wasn’t in the script, but no one said anything so he continued with his line.

“You could have waited for Sammy and me! We could have gone and got it together. Cas, you could have got yourself killed man! When are you gonna learn that you’re our family Cas? Family sticks together. Sammy needs you ... I need you.

Misha stepped slightly closer to Jensen and lifted those ocean eyes up to his green ones. Jensen was shaking. Whether it was with rage or nervousness he didn’t know, but he had to finish this scene. He couldn’t do this more than once. His eyes flitted down to Misha’s mouth just as his tongue came out to wet his lips, and dammit if he didn’t feel his cock twitch. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get out of there. Just as he was about to storm off to the confines of his trailer, Jared cleared his throat.

“Guys … get this! So, the writings in this book are apparently a dead language! There’s some sort of codex that requires piecing together, but I think I can crack it if I can just get past this encrypted file.”

“Cut!”

Rich stood up and rubbed his hands together.

“That was great guys! Very well done with the dynamics. Oh! Nice touch with making Jared jump Jay. His face was priceless! I’m recommending that one for the gag reel.”

Jensen wasn’t listening. He was still staring at Misha, who was now taking off Cas’ tan coat. He watched as his back muscles flexed under his white button-up, and immediately felt his mouth go dry. He couldn’t stand in the same space as his co-star any longer. It was too much. Everyone watched as he took off towards his trailer. Anything was better than feeling this way in his opinion.

“Jensen? You sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little flushed. Hey! Jens- Where are you going? We gotta do another take. Jensen?!”

Once he was back behind his trailer door he immediately stripped off all his clothes and tossed them in a pile. Nothing sounded more appealing than a cold shower. He relished in the feeling of the cool spray as it cascaded down his body. Jensen propped his arm against the shower wall and rested his head against it. He needed to figure out how to suppress his feelings because he didn’t think he could go through this every day.

Ten minutes later he cut the water off and shoved the shower curtain back. A wall of steam enveloped the bathroom and water droplets clung to Jensen’s skin. He wrapped one of his burgundy towels around his waist and padded back into his kitchen to grab another beer.

“Hey, Jens.”

He didn’t expect to hear another voice coming from his living room area, and he definitely didn’t expect it to be Misha’s. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around.

“Jesus, Mish! What the hell?!”

Misha stood and walked across the room not stopping until he was mere inches from him. Jensen swallowed thickly looking down at the neck of the beer bottle to try and distract himself.

“Why are you avoiding me, Jay? Jared says you’re not, but I can tell you are. You’ve barely said two words to me today other than when we filmed that scene. Even then, I could tell something was wrong. You rarely break character.”

Jensen shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mish I … It’s not that simple. Y-You didn’t do anything wrong … I just … I can’t do this.”

Misha grabbed his arm before he could get away and pressed him against the wall. The way Jensen’s breath hitched didn’t go unnoticed to him, and that only confirmed his suspicions.

“Can’t do what Jay?”

Jensen inhaled sharply, the smell of Misha’s cologne nearly making him moan.

“Wha - What are you doing?!”

Misha rested a hand on Jensen’s chest. The water droplets still lingered and he could feel the rapid beat of his heart against his palm.

“Shh. Just relax Jay. Just let go.”

Jensen closed his eyes shuddering under the warmth of his fingertips.

“I - I don’t know what you’re ta-”

Before he could finish his sentence Misha’s lips were on his. For a split second, all Jensen could do was stand there. Eventually, he threw caution to the wind and began to kiss him back. His lips were pillow-soft and he tasted of spearmint. It was intoxicating, and it only made Jensen more dizzy with want.

Misha tilted his head and licked at Jensen’s bottom lip requesting permission. He granted him access without hesitation groaning as he licked into his mouth. Misha’s knee pressed between his thigh forcing the towel around his waist to come loose. The friction against his dick along with Misha’s perfect lips kissing and licking along his pulse point became his undoing. Jensen wasted no more time contemplating whether he was making a big mistake or not. The hottest man he’d ever laid eyes on was bringing him a pleasure he’d never felt before, and he intended on returning it tenfold.

“Unngh M-Mish… fuck…”

A low growl came from Jensen’s throat as he maneuvered them towards the hallway. His towel lay forgotten on the floor, his hands finding refuge in Misha’s short dark locks. He tore at the slightly shorter man’s shirt trying desperately to remove it. Buttons littered the small space scattering in different directions when it wouldn’t come off fast enough. Misha chuckled and brought Jensen’s head down for another bruising kiss.

“Wardrobe is gonna be pissed you know. That was one of Castiel’s only clean white shirts.”

Jensen worked at his belt and wasted no time in shoving Misha’s slacks down his legs. His mouth watered at the sight of his tented boxers, a noticeable wet spot becoming more prominent from his arousal.

“Don’t care. Wardrobe can take it outta my pay. Need you too bad.”

Misha knew how reserved Jensen was, and the fact that he was unable to speak in full sentences and on the verge of losing control was by far the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Slowly Misha sank to his knees and looked up at Jensen through his long lashes. He wetted his lips placing open-mouthed kisses on his thighs. Jensen whimpered shamelessly when Misha licked a long stripe up the underside of his erection. Before he could process what was happening, Misha took him deep into his mouth and didn’t stop until he hit the back of his throat.

“F-Fuck! Christ, Misha... “

Misha couldn’t get enough of how Jensen tasted. It reminded him of sandalwood and old spice. He stripped off his boxers and began palming his cock, moaning at the way Jensen was coming undone by his mouth alone.

“Fuck Jay, you taste so good. Wanna feel you cum baby. Wanna taste every last drop of that sweet nectar.”

Jensen was so close he could taste it. The heat coiled in his lower belly, and his hands instinctively came out to grasp the back of Misha’s head. His rhythmic thrusts soon became more erratic as the first waves of his orgasm washed over him.

“Oh fuck! Mish, I’m gonna… fuck I-I’m gon- ah!!!”

Jensen watched as Misha swallowed around him making sure not to miss a single drop. He stood, pressing his lean body against his leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw.

“Such a good boy Jay. You taste so good too.”

Jensen’s breathing was ragged as he came down from his high. His eyes were closed and his cock was still rock hard. He was a goddamn goner. Never in his life had he came that hard, not until Misha anyway.

Mere minutes later, Jensen was sprawled out on his bed. Misha was rooting around in his drawers for something, and soon he realized what it was. His eyes went wide at the small bottle of lube and the predatory look in his co-star’s eyes.

“Mish, I… I’ve never…”

Misha silenced him with a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I know baby, don’t worry okay? I’m gonna make sure you’re nice and prepared for me. Gonna make you feel so good, Jay. Can’t wait to hear those pretty moans made just for me.”

The sound of the bottle cap opening filled the room and soon Misha was coating his fingers with the shiny liquid. He leaned his body over Jensen’s, resting his weight on one arm. The other slid between his bow legs finding his entrance with ease. Jensen sucked in a breath as Misha pressed one digit against his opening.

“Shh, baby you gotta relax for me. Just breathe, Jay. Let me in and I’ll show you how good it feels.”

Jensen opened his eyes and was met with Misha’s lust-blown ones. He let out a shaky breath, and let his mouth fall open as Misha eased in his finger. He eased it in and out slowly creating a steady rhythm. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitely foreign. Soon Misha slid in another finger and curled them upwards searching out his prostate. He knew he’d found it when Jensen’s back arched off the bed and the prettiest moan he’d ever heard fell from his lips.

“Mmmm, Jay… I wanna taste you. Get on all fours baby. Gonna show you how good it feels to be worshiped.”

Jensen flipped over on his belly and gripped onto his pillow. Misha hooked his fingertips into the place where his thighs met his hips and pulled him so his ass was presented to him nicely.

“So beautiful... “

Misha placed a hand on each side of his ass and spread him open. Jensen dipped his head low and groaned when he felt the wetness of Misha’s tongue against his hole lapping at him repeatedly. He could feel the familiar heat in his core and began fisting his cock furiously.

“Oh God… Mish! Please… p-please need to feel you…”

Misha pulled away, his chin glistening with saliva. He turned Jensen over so he was laying on his back again. He pushed two fingers back inside him and began to scissor him open gently. His mouth leaving love bites along Jensen’s inner thighs.

“Gotta get you ready for me baby. Don’t wanna hurt you any more than necessary.”

Soon Misha was three fingers deep and Jensen was wantonly meeting every thrust. He could almost cum like this. Watching his best friend coming undone by his hands alone. It was almost too much.

“Please f-fuck me… please! Need you. Fuck Misha please!”

Misha removed his fingers and slicked his cock up with lube. He once again leaned over Jensen and captured their lips in a heated kiss. He knew this would hurt, so he did his best to distract him from the pain. Pressing firmly against his fluttering hole, he sheathed himself inside him. Both of them moaned obscenely at the sensation, and Misha tried not to cum at the way Jensen’s muscles squeezed him deliciously. After a few seconds, he felt the Texan’s nails scrape bluntly against his chest.

“Fuck me, Mish… Wanna feel everything you’ve got.”

Misha growled and pulled out almost completely, before slamming back into him. Jensen threw his head back and gripped the sheets, not caring that his sinful moans filled his trailer. They built up a steady pace, and both were well aware that people walking by could tell what was going on. Soon Misha’s brutal thrusts became more sporadic. His forehead rested against Jensen’s as his cock pounded into his prostate over and over again.

“Fuck Mish, You’re gonna make me cum again… c’mon baby, fill me up. Wanna feel you cum inside me. Fuck baby, just like that...Oh, God!”

Misha swallowed his moans with a heated kiss. Jensen could feel his second orgasm of the day approaching as Misha continued to fuck into him. He began to stroke his cock feverishly, his walls tightening around Misha’s dick as the first spurts of white coated his belly.

“F-FUCK MISHA!!”

Misha wasn’t far behind, filling him up, as he felt Jensen’s walls clamp around his cock. They stayed like that, chests heaving, and beads of sweat covering their bodies. Slowly Misha pulled out and grabbed the nearest article of clothing to clean them up.

He climbed back on the bed and laid next to Jensen nuzzling into his neck. He felt the warmth of his arms snake around his torso and hold him close.

“Fuck, that was amazing..” Jensen purred.

Misha peppered kisses along his pulse point and raked his nails lightly down his back.

“You did so well for your first time, Jay. I’m so proud of you. Took me so well.” Misha said tiredly.

Jensen felt his breathing even out, and soon light snores fell from his lips. It was hard to believe how fast he was falling for this man, but he couldn’t wait to see where they’d take their newfound relationship. Whatever happened, he knew he would be along for the ride.

#jensen ackles #misha collins #cockles #18+ only!!!! #'pala writes #'pala's masterlist

[thalia-amongst-the-thorns]

Character Qs

Hey look, another round of OC questions curtesy of this blog as requested by @all-made-of-stardust, let’s get it to it!

1. What is your character’s name? Does the character have a nickname? Raiqah Eimaan Damji. Superhero identity is Red Pulse but enjoys being called just Red as a nickname, also applies in her civilian identity since red is her favorite color. Mae Niwot, superhero identity Nature. Group’s taken to calling her Chief as their unofficial-official team leader. Edahiko Washio, introduces himself and prefers to go by Ed, bit annoyed after years of Americans mispronouncing it. Superhero identity is Pillar, Marcos sometimes calls him Pill. Ed’s not very fond of it. Sasha calls him Eddie. He’s also not very fond of it. Sasha Jessica Hile, superhero identity is Solar Flare. Loves nicknames from friends and family, including Baby Girl, Sol, Sparky, Lightning Bug. Angela Gina Hua, prefers Angie, sometimes just Ange. Referred to as “The Vessel” by Palivāńkum. When she gets roped into doing superhero stuff she goes by Hijack. Nobody. Just Nobody. Marcos calls her Nobby since it’s utterly ridiculous otherwise to go around asking “Where the hell’s Nobody?”. It’s catching on.

2. What is your character’s hair color? Eye color? Raiqah: both a dark, warm brown, almost black. Mae: same as Raiqah, eyes are a smidge lighter. Ed: Black hair that he’s very proud of, brown eyes. Sasha: Deep brown, almost black, fluffy as hell, warm brown eyes. Angie: Black hair dyed bright purple at the tips, brown eyes. Nobby:…bright ginger hair, muddy grey/green eyes.

3. What kind of distinguishing facial features does your character have? Raiqah: A round face with full cheeks and a long, thin curved nose. Her eyes are unnervingly large, almost taking up the entire upper part of her face. Mae: Blunt features with a strong jawline and a striking alpine nose. Ed: Long face with a long nose, cherry red glasses, ears stick out ever so slightly. Sasha: Long face with high cheekbones, bright eyes with thick lashes, and a short, wide nose. Angie: Heavy make-up that’s Goth Up to 11, nose, ear, and eyebrow piercings Nobby: Snub nose, extremely pointed chin that could cut glass, sunken cheeks.

4. Does your character have a birthmark? Where is it? What about scars? How did he get them? Raiqah: No scars presently, though that’ll probably change after a bit of superheroing. She has a few freckles on her back though. Mae: Some miscellaneous scars from farm life and years of boxing, particularly on her hands and an impressive mark on the back of her left knee from a being thrown off a horse. Ed: Six scars. Two square shaped marks on his shoulders, four pinprick marks on the inside of his arms from injections, all from his time as a mad scientist’s guinea pig. Sasha: Surprisingly, no, though she’s broken bones before without scarring. Angie: The Mark of Palivāńkum burned into the palm of her right hand, a diamond-like eye flanked by triangles. Also, tattoo of the silhouette of a flock of birds on her left shoulder, Nobby: Six scars. Two square shaped marks on his shoulders, four pinprick marks on the inside of his arms from injections, all from his time as a mad scientist’s guinea pig. Although, she has had a number of injuries since then that should have left scars…

5. Who are your character’s friends and family? Who does she surround herself with? Who are the people your character is closest to? Who does he wish he were closest to? Raiqah: A loving, devoted doctor for a mother, Fatima, and lawyer father, Ibrahim, along with the family’s loyal manservant Boswell Wilkins and a regiment of personal tutors that Raiqah is very close to (not to mention her extended family back in Palestine). As a shy and skittish kid Raiqah doesn’t have a lot of close friends but hangs out with the other bookish/science kids at lunch. She likes to be around people of a familiar temperament to herself; quiet, polite, scholarly, but is closest to Boswell, Marcos, and Sasha. Wants to be closer to Angie and Nobby. Mae: Her parents, Britney and Mirac, originally ran a farm in Oklahoma before Britney got deployed in Japan for six years. As a result, Mae’s a bit closer with her dad than her mom, though conversely, she’s closer with the extended family on her mom’s side than her dad’s. Mae’s comfortable with pretty much anyone, but prefers to be around honest, kind, open folks. Mae’s closest to Angie and Daniel, along with a few close friends from back home in Oklahoma. She wishes she were closer to Nobby, Ed, and Raiqah. Ed: With cold and collected parents Minoru and Taki, Ed’s the youngest of three with eldest Toshiro and middle child Keiko. Ed’s not very close with any of his family, extended or otherwise, and has a particularly strained relationship with his brother Toshiro. A bit of a loner, Ed tries to hang out with the “cool” music kids at school, which basically entails them all standing around awkwardly acting like they don’t care about other people seeing how cool they are. Closet to Nobby and Angie, wants to be closer to Mae. Sasha: Fathers Vinal and Tydeus who are the proudest parents to ever parent with her twin sister Jacquelyn (“Jackie”) who is the sour to balance out Sasha’s sweet. Very close to the extended family on Vinal’s side, not so much with Tydeus (downside of being an alien on the run). Sasha hangs out with everyone, people who match her excitement and bubbliness and even sourpusses that she wants to cheer up. She’s closest to Marcos, wants to be closer to everyone in general but Ed in particular, the sourpuss. Angie: Her parents, Zhijuan and Harry, are currently separated and on rough terms, with Angie having a particularly hard time being around her father. Angie’s the middle child, with a contentious relationship with her older brother Anthony and adores her little brother Andrew, and had a pretty solid friend group at school, immersing herself in the punk/goth scene with people who loved music, were confident in themselves, and didn’t give a shit about what people thought without being dicks about it. Of course, all of these relationships go right out the window once Palivāńkum gets a hold of her and Angie isolates herself for the safety of everyone she holds dear. Angie’s actually a very calm and natural people person, so she gets along with pretty much everyone but especially Daniel and Mae. She wishes she was closer to Nobby-- if nothing else maybe she’d cool it with the murder attempts then. Nobby: No family and no friends as far as she’s concerned, the latter by choice (and her naturally pugnacious personality). Love and friendship lead to weaknesses that people can exploit, better to keep to herself and rely in her own skills. When she has to be around people, she prefers those who keep to themselves, are self-reliant, and can kick major ass. By design, Nobby’s not very close to anyone, though she has ties to Ed and Mae. Tells herself that she doesn’t want to be close to anyone ever again.

6. Where was your character born? Where has she lived since then? Where does she call home? Raiqah: Neoville, USA, and she’s lived there her whole life, considering the city home. Mae: Born in Oklahoma City, OK, and grew up on the family farm before heading out to Neoville for college. She still considers Oklahoma her home and gets a bit homesick on rough days out in the big city, but Neoville is growing on her. Ed: Originally Ed lived where he was born, Weymouth, MA, till he was eight and got abducted and the police recovered him in Neoville when he was ten, which means he technically lived in the city for two years. Afterwards his family hopped around a bit, living briefly in Boston and New York City before settling in Neoville permanently. Weymouth will always ne his home, though. Sasha: Born in Los Angeles, CA and lived there for ten years before her dads moved them to the east coast in Neoville, which she loves to pieces and happily calls home. Angie: Like Raiqah, born and raised in Neoville and very fond of the place as home. Nobby: Another Neoville native, thought the city is less “homey” to her.

7. Where does your character go when he’s angry? Raiqah: Her room where she can have a quiet sulk without causing any fuss or making other people uncomfortable/unhappy. Mae: Outside for a long jog to sort through her thoughts and emotions and to productively work through any excess negative energy. Ed: To his room to silently fume, away from whoever is pissing him off, or if it’s really bad he’ll rent out a soundproof booth at the local music store so he can work things out on his electric guitar. Sasha: To confront whatever is bothering her, but if she can’t the next best thing is the nearest person she can vent to about it, preferably over some ice-cream. Angie: Far, far away from whatever the thing/person is, less Palivankum take advantage of her negative emotions. Nobby: Towards whatever is pissing her off so she can punch it in its stupid face.

8. What is her biggest fear? Who has she told this to? Who would she never tell this to? Why? Raiqah: Dying or disappointing her parents, both of which are painfully obvious to anyone who knows her though she hasn’t exactly told anyone and doesn’t plan to, since it’s rather embarrassing and she doesn’t want to bother people with such trivial things. Mae: Failing to save someone or being the cause of someone getting hurt. She’s confessed this to everyone in the team at various points as a sign of trust, but she would never tell her parents considering they don’t know about her superhero extracurriculars and doesn’t want to worry them. Ed: Hospitals and needles. He didn’t exactly tell anyone, rather everyone got to see his reaction first hand when he woke up in ICU and flipped out. Ed doesn’t want to tell anyone about it because he’s ashamed of such a basic/nonsensical fear for someone who can’t be hurt, and because he doesn’t want people to ask why he’s afraid… Sasha: Being taken away from her family or tortured. She’s mentioned it to Marcos and Ed and would openly tell anyone else who asked her since she’s not ashamed of it. Angie: That Palivankum will overcome her body and soul, reducing her to a shell that will carry out the lost-god’s bidding and rip apart countless innocent minds, including her brother and father’s. Eventually she tells Mae and Daniel about it seeking help, but ultimately, she’s doesn’t want to tell anyone about this monstrous side of her. Nobby: Hospitals, being tied up or confined spaces, which she will never, ever admit to anyone as it’s a glaring weakness, but which Ed suspects.

9. Does she have a secret? Raiqah Yep, the whole superhero thing. Mae: Have I mentioned the superheroing? Ed: Superhero, plus child kidnapping and experimentation victim, probably killed a few scientists along the way, not to mention what his brother gets up to, and his love of rock and roll. Sasha: Superhero and half-alien. Angie: The soul vessel of a forgotten deity bent on revenge. Nobby: Yes.

10. What makes your character laugh out loud? Raiqah: Chemistry jokes, the works of P.G. Wodehouse, being tickled. Mae: Daniel’s antics, Ellen Degeneres comedy specials, Bert & I recordings Ed: Rom-coms and cheesy sci-fi films, Hootie and the Blowfish Sasha: Memes, puns, cheesy jokes, baby animals with mustaches Angie: Talking dirty to her Nobby: Saying you surrender.

11. When has your character been in love? Had a broken heart? Raiqah: No, plenty of crushes, though those can lead to broken hearts too. Mae: Yes, thankfully with no broken hearts. Ed: Yes to love and broken hearts. Sasha: Yes to both, but more love than broken hearts. Angie: Yes and yes. Nobby: No.

12. What is in your character’s refrigerator right now? On her bedroom floor? On her nightstand? In her garbage can? Raiqah: Fridge full of healthy, all organic, free range fruits and veggies and whole grain treats, sparkling water, hummus. Nothing on her bedroom floor, thank you very much, a stack of epic poetry and history books on the nightstand for some light reading, some bits of scrap paper in her garbage can from calligraphy practice. Mae: Fridge of fresh, raw produce for future meals and cooking, protein shakes, some red meats and cornbread. Might be a stray sports bra and hand chalk on the floor, she’ll clean it up in a jiffy. Phone on her nightstand, potato peels and lemon grass clippings in the trash. Ed: A lot of fast food contains (his parents aren’t very big on cooking), floor is pretty clean aside from the odd sock and guitar pick. Keeps his glasses on his nightstand, not much on note in the trash. Sasha: Due to alien dietary needs, the fridge is basically a vegan warzone; no dairy, overly processed junk food, nuts, white bread, eggs. The warzone extends to her bedroom floor, strewn with clothes, gymnastic equipment, papers, and the contents of her schoolbag. Keeps her phone on her nightstand, and she’s lucky if trash actually makes it to the garbage can. Angie: Lots of leftover takeout containers and breakfast foods like eggs and bacon. Some choice fishnets and combat boots on the floor, two alarm clocks on the nightstand, and overdue bills in the trash. Nobby: She wishes she had a fridge. Or a bedroom, for that matter…

13. Look at your character’s feet. Describe what you see there. Does he wear dress shoes, gym shoes, or none at all? Is he in socks that are ratty and full of holes? Or is he wearing a pair of blue and gold slippers knitted by his grandmother? Raiqah: Tiny spotless MaryJane’s, patent maroon leather. Mae: Well-worn sneakers, dirt encrusted but nonetheless still in good shape. Ed: Black Chuck Taylors, scuffed with fraying laces. Sasha: Neon pink and blue striped flip-flops with little googly eyed flamingo straps. Angie: Knee high leather boots with platform heels that give her another three inches of height, so many buckles you question how she can still walk from the weight of them. Nobby: Steel toed work boots, so worn in some places duct tape has been wrapped around the heel, laces frayed.

14. When your character thinks of her childhood kitchen, what smell does she associate with it? Sauerkraut? Oatmeal cookies? Paint? Why is that smell so resonant for her? Raiqah: Lemon polish. Boswell made sure the house was always spotless, and it always amazed her that this extended to the kitchen even after the cook prepared something. Mae: Fresh dirt. Growing up on a farm this was a common smell, but her dad helped her cultivate her first garden in the kitchen window box. Ed: Oddly enough, Ed actually doesn’t remember what most things smelled like from when he was younger due to the nature of his powers and how they deaden all his senses from an early age. Sasha: Popcorn. Her dads were very big on Saturday movie nights with all the trimmings. Angie: Pork dumplings. Her mom only made them when there was something to celebrate. Nobby: Blood.

15. Your character is doing intense spring cleaning. What is easy for her to throw out? What is difficult for her to part with? Why? Raiqah: Easy to throw out cloth that don’t fit anymore; difficult to get rid of any old class work because you never know when it could be important, right? Mae: Easy to get rid of worn clothes; difficult to get rid of anything connected to her parents or from back home on Oklahoma. Ed: Easy to get rid of school junk; difficult to get rid of any clothes or music related items. Sasha: Easy to toss any books; difficult to get rid of basically everything else. Angie: Easy to get rid of anything that is legit trash; difficult getting rid of any clothing. Nobby: Easy to throw away anything she can’t carry; difficult to part with food or weapons.

16. It’s Saturday at noon. What is your character doing? Give details. If he’s eating breakfast, what exactly does he eat? If she’s stretching out in her backyard to sun, what kind of blanket or towel does she lie on? Raiqah: Finishing her calculous homework and planning ahead for her piano tutoring session. Mae, Sasha, and Ed: In costume, patrolling the city and busting up any weekend supervillainy. Angie: Working the lunch rush at the café, doing her best to pacify and get through to the next hour. Nobby: Busting heads while searching for the next lead in her quest to find Dr. Rajinder.

17. What is one strong memory that has stuck with your character from childhood? Why is it so powerful and lasting? Raiqah: Her first memory of going to worship in a mosque and feeling the love and utter understanding of Allah all around her. Mae: When kids at school asked her “What she was” and she proudly told them about her Arapaho heritage and to not be racist jerks. Ed: Being strapped to an operating table for two years and cut open until his body stopped feeling. Sasha: Her dad showing off his alien form and taking her for a ride while he flew through the night sky. Angie: Anthony abandoning her and Andrew at the park to hang out with his own friends and Angie getting the two of them back home via subway from the first time. Nobby: Her parents being killed in front of her when she was six.

18. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where is she going? What does she wear? Who will she be with? Raiqah: A late-night trip to the library being chaperoned by Boswell, maybe for a free lecture, decked out in her hijab, full skirts, and a thick cardigan. Mae: Probably checking out the opening night of a new photo exhibit at the local art gallery, plaid button up and jeans, she’d invite Angie and Raiqah. Ed: Dark turtle neck and ripped jeans, looking to sneak into the latest rock concert at the plaza. Might ask if Sasha would like to come with. Sasha: Pink halter top, white cutoff shorts, gold lace up sandals, chunky jewelry. A night on the town with karaoke, movies, laser tag, concerts, anything as long as its exciting and with anyone who wants to tag along. Angie: Tight short purple dress that laces up the sides, platform combat boots and ripped fishnets, black leather jacket with silver studs around the collar. The usually heavy makeup, thick eyeliner, smoky eyes and plum lips. Going to check out the latest punk scene with anyone who’s up for a round in the mosh pit. Nobby: Motorcycle helmet, brown bomber jacket, jeans, red gloves. A Jericho 91 at her hip, switch blades up her sleeves, a stained baseball bat sluing over her back. Nothing like a night on the town beating up gangs and getting answers.

#oc asks #oc squad #b listers #everyone has super powers and angst #Mae #ed #raiqah #nobody #angie #sasha

[bittersweetfacade]

Lack of Oxygen

Lack of oxygen. That's what my smartass friend always told me was why I yawned so much. But in reality it was because I was so damn tired all the time. That didn't matter though because like every morning my annoying ass alarm clock went off at 7 o clock blaring terrible country music so I'll have to wake up and change the station. I roll over to get out of bed and fall straight on my back. With a loud groan I get up and hit my radio a couple times till it switches to some alternative station that always plays Pearl Jam. I had about 30 minutes to get around for school which wasn't really enough time for me but I'm always late anyway. I down a cup of cold coffee that I never got to drink from yesterday and cringe at the bitter taste. I finally emerge from my bedroom and head across the hall to my bathroom. I check out myself in the mirror and almost laugh at the sight of my hair. It was standing on end but I was too lazy to fix it so I went with the look. I mean it was the punk way. I take my time cleaning each one of my facial piercings. From my eyebrow to my nose to both my lip piercings. I do all the other necessary things that just about every boy does in the morning from brushing my teeth to shaving my face only I leave some stubble because that's what the ladies like. I head over to my room and pick up a pair of probably dirty black jeans with many holes in them and random band tee from my drawer. I run downstairs and grab my boots and not bother saying good by to my mom because she's already out drinking at the bars anyway. It's 7:10 by the time I get to school and school started at 7. I hop out of my truck and take my time walking to my first period class because it's math and no one likes math. "You're late Castiel!" Mr. Singer tells me. "Please Bobby call me Cas," I say smirking at him. "Also it's because I needed a coffee or I wasn't going to make it through your class" Mr. Singer stifles a laugh and returns to teaching his lessons. About half way through the lesson a boy and our principal walks in. Holy shit from all the way back here I could see the boys fan fiction green eyes. (Yes I read fanfics, sue me). Our principal said something about there being a new student and his name which I didn't catch because I was too busy having a staring contest with the new boy. "You can sit behind Castiel, Castiel raise your hand" Mr Singer said. The boy and I broke eye contact and I raised my hand, smirking. I saw the boy blush noticeably. He came and sat next to me and immediately faces forward. I turn around in my seat and obviously look him up and down and finally lean forward to talk to him. "What's your name kid?" I ask. "Oh um..me?" The boy asks. "Yes you" "Oh um... I'm D..D..Dean" Dean stuttered. Internally scolding himself for stuttering in front of the punk boy. Right before I turned about in his seat I said a quick "welcome to Stone Ridge High school Deano". Dean blushed and said a quick thanks not sure if I was being sarcastic or was actually being welcoming. Either way he couldn't help but stare at me and all my persona. Dean took in me, the punk boy from my blue tipped hair to my facial piercings to my nirvana shirt all the way down to my Doc Marten boots. I knew Dean was staring but decided to let him. The bell rang and rang and rang time and time again as school went on slow and monotonous like always. Then finally it was last period. Gym. Dreadful gym. It wasn't that I was lazy I just hated how all the dumbass jocks showed off all their "skills". Today the class was outside playing rugby. Skins and shirts were the two teams and of course the coach always made the weird scrawny kids skins and made rude comments to them telling them to "buff up". While I was tuning out all the rules I heard my name being called by the coach and then the word "skins" following it. I smirked and noticed that Dean was in my class and also staring at me almost in anticipation. I shed my shirt and threw it somewhere in the opposite direction. I could hear muffled gasps as all my tattoos were out in the open. I spread my arms out in the "look at me world" way and did a little spin so everyone could see the art that decorated my body. I turned back around and saw Dean eyeing me up and down and then when he met my eyes again he blushed a bright red. "Alright Castiel you can stop the show, you're lucky that Principal Roman doesn't know about that "art", Coach says to me. The thing about our school is that it's a public school but everyone acts like it's a private catholic school minus the uniforms but Dean made it seem like we had uniforms with his slacks and fucking sweater vest. --- I was walking to my truck after school when I noticed a beautiful 67' chevy impala in the high school parking lot. After I noticed the car I noticed a nice ass hanging out of the backseat of the car. The person must of been putting a bag in the back or something. I walked around to the other side of the car and noticed it was Dean. "Hello Dean" I say to him. "Holy shit!" Dean said hitting his head on the roof of the car. "Weren't expecting me huh?" I ask, smirking. "Um uh not really. What are you doing? Like uh talking to me I um mean?" Dean asks getting flustered. "I noticed your beautiful car and then saw your beautiful ass hanging out of it and thought I would come give a nice Stone Ridge High School hello" I feign excitement. Dean blushed a darker red lost for words. "Also I was wondering if you wanted to hang out and I could tell you the ups and downs of this high school and show you some cool music" I state firmly not really letting him give me a no. "Um I uh g..g..guess. Let me just tell my little brother to d..d..drive home himself" Dean says in return. "Alright sweet, my truck is this way" I say, pointing in the opposite direction. Dean followed me to my car and the whole car ride I could feel his nervous stare on me. "You like you stare huh?" I ask. "W..what?" Dean responds not realizing that Castiel could see him. "You heard me. We have almost every class together and I can just feel you eyeballing me all fucking day dude. Like I know I'm attractive but damn I don't have that much to look at. Okay sorry that came off as rude but I just want to know why you've been looking at me all day, especially at gym" I say. "I like your wings". Dean states "My what?" I ask. "Your wings, on your back. I like all your tattoos actually. They are very unique. I really like the bee though with the Morse code underneath it." Dean says calmly and without stuttering almost like he wasn't thinking before he spoke. "Thanks, the wings aren't finished yet though, but I'm getting them finished soon." I say back. "Here we are. The Novak residence." Dean and I walked inside and I didn't even bother apologizing for the mess of beer bottles and clothes because it wasn't my fault that my dumbass mom was an alcoholic. "Follow me" I shoot behind me as I walk up the stairs to my bedroom. My room was fairly clean. There was just yesterday's clothes on the floor and some records strewn on my unmade bed. My room was probably scary as hell to Dean with the posters of punk bands on my wall and my black walls and all dark room other than the light from my window streaming in. "Welcome to my sanctuary" I say to dean, winking. Dean looked away but before he could I noticed a bright red blush appear across his freckled face. "You know," I say taking a step closer to Dean "you blush a lot for being an 18 year old dude but I'll let it slide because you just look so damn adorable when you get all flustered around me" I say taking another step closer to him. I took a few more steps until I'm practically on top on of Dean. I make him think I'm leaning in for a kiss but I reach around him and grab my pack of cigarettes. I grabbed a cig out of the pack and put it snugly between my lips and searched around for a lighter. After I found one and lit the cancer stick Dean spoke up. "You smoke?" Dean asked without the tiniest bit of disgust in his voice. "Yeah" I said shrugging it off like smoking was not something that would give me lung cancer. "I've always wanted to try but I never had the opportunity" Dean said bluntly. I was taken back a bit. This little nerd wants to try smoking this stupid little tobacco stick. "You wanna try?" I asked "Yeah but I'm afraid I'll cough and you'll make fun of me" Dean said without thinking. "You can just shot gun it then" I said not realizing that I was talking to the super nerdy boy who probably is still hasn't had his first kiss. "What's that?" Dean asks. "It's when I take a hit of the cig or blunt and then blow it into your mouth" I say Dean turns bright red thinking about our mouths being that close. "Um uh yeah okay" Dean finally says "Alright then!" I say clapping my hands together. I take a long hit of my cigarette and hold it in while I grab the collar of Dean's button up. I take my hand and pull his chin down so he knows to open his mouth. I put my hand on the back of his neck and I can feel him shiver as I pull him closer and closer till our lips are millimeters apart. I exhale and slightly blow the smoke into the nerdy boy's mouth. Dean closes his eyes and takes in the smoke carefully almost as if he doesn't want to hurt it. Just looking at him like this makes my heart and my stomach do this weird thing, almost as if feelings were rising up in me. Dean mutters a "woah" but before he can open his eyes I grab him closer and close the gap between our lips and kiss him roughly. It starts out sloppy and slowly begins to become more caring and soft. We finally pull away to catch our breaths and I swear I couldn't breath. Some may say I had a lack of oxygen.

#destiel #punk cas #nerd dean #castiel #dean Winchester #punk #rock #punk rock #fanfic #ficlet #casdean #punk!cas #nerd!dean

[he-lost-control-again]

Lack of Oxygen

Lack of oxygen. That's what my smartass friend always told me was why I yawned so much. But in reality it was because I was so damn tired all the time. That didn't matter though because like every morning my annoying ass alarm clock went off at 7 o clock blaring terrible country music so I'll have to wake up and change the station. I roll over to get out of bed and fall straight on my back. With a loud groan I get up and hit my radio a couple times till it switches to some alternative station that always plays Pearl Jam. I had about 30 minutes to get around for school which wasn't really enough time for me but I'm always late anyway. I down a cup of cold coffee that I never got to drink from yesterday and cringe at the bitter taste. I finally emerge from my bedroom and head across the hall to my bathroom. I check out myself in the mirror and almost laugh at the sight of my hair. It was standing on end but I was too lazy to fix it so I went with the look. I mean it was the punk way. I take my time cleaning each one of my facial piercings. From my eyebrow to my nose to both my lip piercings. I do all the other necessary things that just about every boy does in the morning from brushing my teeth to shaving my face only I leave some stubble because that's what the ladies like. I head over to my room and pick up a pair of probably dirty black jeans with many holes in them and random band tee from my drawer. I run downstairs and grab my boots and not bother saying good by to my mom because she's already out drinking at the bars anyway. It's 7:10 by the time I get to school and school started at 7. I hop out of my truck and take my time walking to my first period class because it's math and no one likes math. "You're late Castiel!" Mr. Singer tells me. "Please Bobby call me Cas," I say smirking at him. "Also it's because I needed a coffee or I wasn't going to make it through your class" Mr. Singer stifles a laugh and returns to teaching his lessons. About half way through the lesson a boy and our principal walks in. Holy shit from all the way back here I could see the boys fan fiction green eyes. (Yes I read fanfics, sue me). Our principal said something about there being a new student and his name which I didn't catch because I was too busy having a staring contest with the new boy. "You can sit behind Castiel, Castiel raise your hand" Mr Singer said. The boy and I broke eye contact and I raised my hand, smirking. I saw the boy blush noticeably. He came and sat next to me and immediately faces forward. I turn around in my seat and obviously look him up and down and finally lean forward to talk to him. "What's your name kid?" I ask. "Oh um..me?" The boy asks. "Yes you" "Oh um... I'm D..D..Dean" Dean stuttered. Internally scolding himself for stuttering in front of the punk boy. Right before I turned about in his seat I said a quick "welcome to Stone Ridge High school Deano". Dean blushed and said a quick thanks not sure if I was being sarcastic or was actually being welcoming. Either way he couldn't help but stare at me and all my persona. Dean took in me, the punk boy from my blue tipped hair to my facial piercings to my nirvana shirt all the way down to my Doc Marten boots. I knew Dean was staring but decided to let him. The bell rang and rang and rang time and time again as school went on slow and monotonous like always. Then finally it was last period. Gym. Dreadful gym. It wasn't that I was lazy I just hated how all the dumbass jocks showed off all their "skills". Today the class was outside playing rugby. Skins and shirts were the two teams and of course the coach always made the weird scrawny kids skins and made rude comments to them telling them to "buff up". While I was tuning out all the rules I heard my name being called by the coach and then the word "skins" following it. I smirked and noticed that Dean was in my class and also staring at me almost in anticipation. I shed my shirt and threw it somewhere in the opposite direction. I could hear muffled gasps as all my tattoos were out in the open. I spread my arms out in the "look at me world" way and did a little spin so everyone could see the art that decorated my body. I turned back around and saw Dean eyeing me up and down and then when he met my eyes again he blushed a bright red. "Alright Castiel you can stop the show, you're lucky that Principal Roman doesn't know about that "art", Coach says to me. The thing about our school is that it's a public school but everyone acts like it's a private catholic school minus the uniforms but Dean made it seem like we had uniforms with his slacks and fucking sweater vest. --- I was walking to my truck after school when I noticed a beautiful 67' chevy impala in the high school parking lot. After I noticed the car I noticed a nice ass hanging out of the backseat of the car. The person must of been putting a bag in the back or something. I walked around to the other side of the car and noticed it was Dean. "Hello Dean" I say to him. "Holy shit!" Dean said hitting his head on the roof of the car. "Weren't expecting me huh?" I ask, smirking. "Um uh not really. What are you doing? Like uh talking to me I um mean?" Dean asks getting flustered. "I noticed your beautiful car and then saw your beautiful ass hanging out of it and thought I would come give a nice Stone Ridge High School hello" I feign excitement. Dean blushed a darker red lost for words. "Also I was wondering if you wanted to hang out and I could tell you the ups and downs of this high school and show you some cool music" I state firmly not really letting him give me a no. "Um I uh g..g..guess. Let me just tell my little brother to d..d..drive home himself" Dean says in return. "Alright sweet, my truck is this way" I say, pointing in the opposite direction. Dean followed me to my car and the whole car ride I could feel his nervous stare on me. "You like you stare huh?" I ask. "W..what?" Dean responds not realizing that Castiel could see him. "You heard me. We have almost every class together and I can just feel you eyeballing me all fucking day dude. Like I know I'm attractive but damn I don't have that much to look at. Okay sorry that came off as rude but I just want to know why you've been looking at me all day, especially at gym" I say. "I like your wings". Dean states "My what?" I ask. "Your wings, on your back. I like all your tattoos actually. They are very unique. I really like the bee though with the Morse code underneath it." Dean says calmly and without stuttering almost like he wasn't thinking before he spoke. "Thanks, the wings aren't finished yet though, but I'm getting them finished soon." I say back. "Here we are. The Novak residence." Dean and I walked inside and I didn't even bother apologizing for the mess of beer bottles and clothes because it wasn't my fault that my dumbass mom was an alcoholic. "Follow me" I shoot behind me as I walk up the stairs to my bedroom. My room was fairly clean. There was just yesterday's clothes on the floor and some records strewn on my unmade bed. My room was probably scary as hell to Dean with the posters of punk bands on my wall and my black walls and all dark room other than the light from my window streaming in. "Welcome to my sanctuary" I say to dean, winking. Dean looked away but before he could I noticed a bright red blush appear across his freckled face. "You know," I say taking a step closer to Dean "you blush a lot for being an 18 year old dude but I'll let it slide because you just look so damn adorable when you get all flustered around me" I say taking another step closer to him. I took a few more steps until I'm practically on top on of Dean. I make him think I'm leaning in for a kiss but I reach around him and grab my pack of cigarettes. I grabbed a cig out of the pack and put it snugly between my lips and searched around for a lighter. After I found one and lit the cancer stick Dean spoke up. "You smoke?" Dean asked without the tiniest bit of disgust in his voice. "Yeah" I said shrugging it off like smoking was not something that would give me lung cancer. "I've always wanted to try but I never had the opportunity" Dean said bluntly. I was taken back a bit. This little nerd wants to try smoking this stupid little tobacco stick. "You wanna try?" I asked "Yeah but I'm afraid I'll cough and you'll make fun of me" Dean said without thinking. "You can just shot gun it then" I said not realizing that I was talking to the super nerdy boy who probably is still hasn't had his first kiss. "What's that?" Dean asks. "It's when I take a hit of the cig of blunt and then blow it into your mouth" I say Dean turns bright red thinking about our mouths being that close. "Um uh yeah okay" Dean finally says "Alright then!" I say clapping my hands together. I take a long hit of my cigarette and hold it in while I grab the collar of Dean's button up. I take my hand and pull his chin down so he knows to open his mouth. I put my hand on the back of his neck and I can feel him shiver as I pull him closer and closer till our lips are millimeters apart. I exhale and slightly blow the smoke into the nerdy boy's mouth. Dean closes his eyes and takes in the smoke carefully almost as if he doesn't want to hurt it. Just looking at him like this makes my heart and my stomach do this weird thing, almost as if feelings were rising up in me. Dean mutters a "woah" but before he can open his eyes I grab him closer and close the gap between our lips and kiss him roughly. It starts out sloppy and slowly begins to become more caring and soft. We finally pull away to catch our breaths and I swear I couldn't breath. Some may say I had a lack of oxygen.

#supernatural #spn #season 12 #destiel #punk cas #castiel #dean Winchester #dean #jimmy novak #nerdy dean #nerd dean

[starsinursa]

Shout-out to @saminzat for tagging me! Like I needed an excuse to waste time. ;)

LAST

1) Drink:  Coffee... it’s like 10 p.m. at night, but I’m trying to stay awake to finish some work from the office (and yet I’m on tumblr doing this quiz instead, oops).

2) Phone call: A coworker called me so I’d have her new phone number.

3) Text message:  “FYI, they don’t give you the money right back, you have to wait 4 - 6  WEEKS for a check in the mail, uggggh”. I bailed the same coworker out of jail about three months ago and went to the city municipal court today to get the bail money back... turns out things aren’t that simple.

4) Song listened to:  Umm...so I’ve been listening to the Moana soundtrack pretty much non-stop for the last week. :D

5) Time you cried:  A couple of weeks ago, reading the fic “Cursed or Not” for the first time (hey, you get to chapter 18 and try not to ugly cry, okay?).

HAVE YOU EVER

6) Dated somebody twice:  Yep. Good ol’ high school.

7) Been cheated on:  Not that I know of.

8) Kissed someone and regretted it:  Yep. Good ol’ college.

9) Lost someone special:  Yes, a couple of times.

10) Been depressed:  Yep, special shout-out to my Prozac and Wellbutrin, love you guys. ;)

11) Gotten drunk and puked:  Yes, a few times, unfortunately. Again, good ol’ college (although I can’t use that excuse for the last time because I had already graduated... to whomever had to clean out that train car up in Minneapolis, MN, about 2.5 years ago: I am so, so sorry, I’ve learned my lesson about taking it easy on the Everclear, you have every right to hate me).

THREE FAVOURITE COLOURS

12) Green

13) Purple

14) Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR YOU HAVE YOU

15) Made new friends:  Kind of? Do work friends count? 

16) Fallen out of love:  Nah, gotta be in love for that

17) Laughed until you cried:  Yes, most recently was while watching “Impractical Jokers” with my aunt (they took a guy who is terrified of cats and made him teach an improv “how to bond with your cat” class, okay, I found it hilarious as a cat-owner).

18) Found out someone was gossiping about you:  Yeah, there’s a lot of gossip about everyone at my second job. Look, I’m sorry I go through all the water bottles, okay? I drink a lot of water...

19) Met someone who changed your life:  Not anyone specific in the last year that I can think of...

20) Found out who your true friends are: Meh. I’ve always kinda known.

21) Kissed someone on your Facebook list:  Nah

HOW MANY/MUCH

22) Facebook friends:  256

23) Pets:  Two! One dog, one cat, the best of both worlds.

24) Want to change your name:  Nah, I like my name.

WHAT

25) Did I get for my birthday:  Books, I always ask for books.

26) Time I woke up:  Around 8:30 a.m. this morning

27) Were you doing at midnight: Probably surfing tumblr, tbh, I am sadly predictable

28) Can’t you wait for: MY VACATION THIS NEXT WEEK

29) Was the last time you saw your mom:  A couple of weeks ago when I went home for a dentist appointment

30) Is something you wish you could change about your life:  I need to buckle down and really focus on paying off a couple of bills. It helps having a second job, but I’m just so impatient.

31) Are you listening to right now:  Nothing at the mo

32) Gets on your nerves:  Whiners. Don’t get me wrong, I love to bitch and complain as much as the next person, but people who blame the world/ everyone else for their problems? Just....yeah.

33) Talked to a person named Tom:  ...this question doesn’t make any sense. “What - talked to a person named Tom”? Also, no, I know several Tims, but no Toms.

34) Is your most visited website:  Pffft, tumblr, of course, is that even a real question

35) Elementary school/primary school:  [Name of my hometown] Elementary School

36) High School:  [Name of my hometown] Jr./ Sr. High School

37) College:  I’ve already mentioned in a couple of posts where I went to college, so I guess I’ll just say it: Kansas State University. EMAW!

38) Hair colour:  Dark brown

39) Long/short hair:  Long! It’s currently the longest it’s ever been in my entire life, I’m so excited (although holy shit, I shed a lot).

40) Crush:  Nah, not for a while. I creeped on a cute security guard a few months ago, but he turned out to be a jerk with a classic “crazy ex-girlfriend” (I put that part in quotation marks because I have no idea if she’s actually ‘crazy’ but he kept insisting she was...which is, just, y’know, a red flag on his part).

41) Do you like about yourself:  I’m actually pretty fond of my hair now, after a lifelong love/hate relationship. I also like to think I’m okay at singing sometimes.

42) Piercings: None at the moment, actually

43) Blood type: A+

44) Nickname: My family has always called me “Foo” (as in, “little bunny foo-foo”)

45) Relationship status:  Single, ayyyyy

46) Zodiac: Leo (pffft, but not really)

47) Pronouns: She/her

48) Favourite show: Supernatural (of course!), Psych, Once Upon a Time, Firefly, Scrubs, Nikita, Game of Thrones

49) Tattoos: None. I’m too fickle, I’d get one and then change my mind two weeks later.

50) Left or right handed: Right

FIRST

51) Surgery:  I had my tonsils out when I was 17 thanks to multiple bouts with strep throat. Oh my god, never wait until you’re that old to get your tonsils removed, it was absolute hell. 

52) Piercings: My ears. If we’re talking unusual piercings, I had a “nape piercing” for a while in high school.

53) Best friend:  Probably my cousin Kayla, since we grew up together

54) Sport:  I played softball for several years as a kid, until I got a bloody nose when the ball hit me in the face. Then I had to quit because I was gun-shy. To this day, I’m still afraid of balls flying at my face (hehehe).

55) Vacation:  I visited my dad in San Diego, CA for a week when I was ten years old

56) Pair of shoes:  First pair of shoes? I don’t know, I was a baby. Probably some over-priced cutesy pair that never even got any use because I was a baby.

RIGHT NOW

57) Eating: Spicy Doritos

58) Drinking:  Still drinking coffee

59) I am about to:  Sort through my tumblr “Saved Drafts” and add tags for everything, then try to get some writing done

60) Listening to:  Nothing at the mo (this is the same question at #31?)

61) Waiting for:  Saturday when I leave for vacation! *o*

62) Want to see: Honestly can’t think of anything. I’d like to watch Moana again but it’s not on DVD yet?

63) Want to get married:  Sure, someday

64) Career:  Human services/ social work-ish? Basically, I work at a non-profit agency helping adults with developmental/ intellectual disabilities to get/ maintain services. Oh, and I also have a part-time job at an adult store. Gotta make ends meet, y’know.

WHICH IS BETTER

65) Hugs/kisses:  Really depends on who they’re from. Probably hugs for the most part. :)

66) Lips/eyes: Aaagh, I don’t know... I love gorgeous eyes, but I also love me some tasty lips... y’know what, I’m gonna go with lips. Yep.

67) Taller/shorter:  Taller

68) Younger/older: Older

69) Romantic/spontaneous:  I can be romantic when I have someone to be romantic for, but I’m not the most spontaneous. :D Like, let’s just stick to the PLAN, okay?

70) Nice arms/nice stomach: Arms. I like squishy cuddly tummies anyways.

71) Sensitive/loud: ...I don’t know. Sensitive, I guess, because being around loud people wears me out pretty quickly. But sensitivity needs to have limits too...

72) Hookup/relationship:  Relationship. Been there, done the hook-up thing, not worth it. Good ol’ college.

73) Troublemaker/hesitant: At this point in my life, I’d say hesitant. Trouble-making was fun in the past, but, like, I’ve got an actual career now that I could lose if I go around trouble-making/ hanging out with trouble-makers.

HAVE YOU EVER

74) Kissed a stranger:  So, so many times. Good ol’ college.

75) Drank hard liquor:  Yep. Still love me some vodka. It just mixes with everything, y’know?

76) Lost glasses/contact lenses:  Contact lenses, yes, but luckily I’ve never lost a pair of glasses

77) Turned someone down:  Yes. I hate doing that. I’m a horrible, cowardly person who would rather “ghost” someone than have to deal with an uncomfortable confrontation. 

78) Canoodling on a first date:  Depends on the definition of “canoodling”. Are we talking cuddling or snuggling up during a movie? Sure. Making out? Maaaybe, depends. No copping a feel on the first date though, c’mon now.

79) Broken someone’s heart:  Yes. Breaking up with someone in high school is intense. 

80) Had your own heart broken:  Kind of, not really? The only person I legitimately had feelings for, I never told them how I felt, so they never really had the opportunity to break my heart but it hurt like hell anyways. Have I mentioned I’m a cowardly piece of shit? :D I mean, that was like 10 years ago in high school, but I haven’t changed that much.

81) Been arrested:  No, thank goodness. There were a couple of close calls during my partying days, I’ve definitely been luckier than I probably deserve.

82) Cried when someone died:  Yes. Doesn’t happen often, luckily.

83) Fallen for a friend: Not really? Had crushes on friends, had friends-with-benefits, yes, but never technically “fallen for” a friend.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

84) Yourself: Depends on what we’re talking about here. In general, yeah, I like to think I do okay...

85) Miracles:  Ehhh, I can’t decide. It’s a wonderful thought but I’m also kind of a pessimist realist. You know what they say: “hope for the best but prepare for the worst”.

86) Santa Clause:  Not for many, many years

87) Kisses on a first date: Sure! End-of-the-date kisses are sweet.

88) Angels:  I...think so. 

89) Love at first sight:  I don’t know? It’s a wonderful thought but I’m just not sure. Maybe not love at first sight, per se, but I think there are definitely people out there that you can just tell right away they’re going to be special to you.

OTHER

90) Best friend’s name: None, at the mo

91) Eye colour: Brown

92) Favourite movie:  That’s a tough one... I think it depends on my mood. Do I want to laugh? Something trashy like “Sorority Boys”. Do I want to cry? Probably something steeped in existential crisis like “A.I.”. Do I want a feel-good adventure with talking animals? “Homeward Bound”.

Holy crap, that took like 1.5 hours. Anyone need an excuse to waste some time/ procrastinate/ be distracted? Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast, @helianthus21, @destielmixtape, @beesandangelkisses, @emotionally-compromised-idiot, @castielsgracex, @apritelleorai, @honeybee-and-batman, @sunshine-hunters, @waaaaaayward-assbutt, @cool-fallen-angel , and anyone else who wants to do it. :)

#about me quiz thingy #me #my personal life #i've been tagged #tagging other people