Tumgik
#DEAN GETTING INJURED AND SAM FUSSING OVER HIM
meowmeowmessi · 3 years
Note
sorry to bring this to ur spn blog but yOU LIKE YAMANBAGIRI TOO????? /EXCITED HANDSHAKE
also apparently they just released an official english server to it
on the other hand.................... saniwa!sam and toudan!dean
NO NO PLS DON'T APOLOGIZE *I'M* THE ONE WHO BROUGHT UP TOUKEN RANBU ON MY SPN BLOG AFTER ALL
AND YES!!!!!!!!! I LOVE MY SON YAMANBAGIRI IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT!!!!!!!!!! I WAS GOING TO SEND HIM OFF TO KIWAME TRAINING (before I took an indefinite hiatus from the game that is orz) SO THAT HE COULD FINALLY SHED HIS DEPRESSION CLOAK AND SHOW HIS BEAUTIFUL GLORIOUS TRUE SELF!!!!!!! I JUST LOVE THIS BOY SO SO MUCH *sobs*
AAAAAAAAA YES I HEARD!!!!! Let's see if I can make an account on johren tonight. ABOUT DAMN TIME THE GAME GOT AN ENGLISH RELEASE :DDDD
OMFGGG YES ANON THAT IS A BRILLIANT IDEA!!!! Gosh you know how some of the toudans are so possessive and protective of their aruji DEAN AS ONE OF SAM'S TOUDANS WOULD BE 👌👌👌👌👌👌
3 notes · View notes
makeadealwithdean · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
Bleeding In Love
TW: Blood, Injury (wasn’t sure where to put this, just want everyone to be safe)
Hi, so this was supposed to be the first part of a two-part mini series, but my beta @downanddirtydean was quite insistent that I make this my very first series!! I’m very excited about this, so I’ll make you a deal: y’all give me some feedback and let me know if I should make it a full series or keep it as a mini series, and I’ll do whatever the consensus is. Thank you for reading!! xx
Divider: @firefly-graphics
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader x Dean Winchester; no wincest
Summary: Sam, Dean, and Reader are out on a hunt when the reader gets injured. It’s funny how life-threatening injuries make secrets spill out.
Word Count: 4032
Warnings: language, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, blood (not that graphic, i think), injury, the boys take care of you, eventual smut (not in this part, sorry), i think that’s all :)
Masterlist || Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Creak. Dean winced in front of you as the basement stairs underneath his feet sighed loudly. He looked back at you, almost as if waiting for confirmation to continue, not that Dean ever asked your permission for anything. Quite the opposite, actually. You, of course, nodded for him to keep moving, your hands wrapped tightly around the shotgun loaded with rock salt that you kept at the ready. The two of you crept down the rest of the stairs, you praying that the ancient house wasn’t as close to collapsing as it looked.
Once you reached the dirt floor, Dean spoke quietly next to you, “Okay, that sucker is definitely living off something from his old life, and I’m willing to bet it’s that hairbrush that we saw upstairs a few days ago. Something had to be moving it around, right?”
“Okay, I’ll take this side. You go that way,” you nodded, gesturing to the darkened area to your right. 
“Alright, but I won’t be far. Yell for me if you need help,” Dean was always fussing over you, despite the fact you’d been hunting since well before you met them. You’d had a contact in common, and Bobby, bless him, had introduced the three of you. So when your old hunting partner had died, they’d insisted you come stay with them at the Bunker “for as long as you want.” You weren’t about to turn down men as attractive as the Winchesters, and you might’ve harbored a little crush on-- well, both of them, so you agreed. You were sure you’d be able to get over your little crush(es) anyway, no big deal.
“As long as you want” had turned into almost two years, and now they considered the Bunker just as much your home as theirs. Good thing, too, because you didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. It seemed like everyone you knew was dead. Such was the life of a hunter. The boys became your best friends, and the three of you grew closer than family. You hadn’t quite forgotten your feelings for the boys, but you were perfectly happy as things were. You got to spend every day with them anyway. No need to rock the boat.
“I’ll be back in a sec, De,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at Dean’s reminder. Every time he said that, and every time you were fine. 
You headed into the pitch black, fumbling until you got your flashlight on. You scanned the dusty room quickly, avoiding the support beams and hoping they’d stay supportive. After wandering around and finding nothing except shelves holding old jars that contained who knows what, you headed back towards the stairs and Dean’s side of the room.
Just as you were walking past the stairs to go and find Dean, the spirit flickered across the room. You lifted the shotgun, but it disappeared again, before you could take a shot. You started towards Dean again, almost calling out for him, but then something flew past your head, hitting the wall with a Clang! You turned towards the direction it had come from, just in time to duck, letting the glass jar that would’ve smacked you in the head shatter against the wall behind you.
“Dean!” you called. “Hey! Dean!” You fired back towards where the jar had come from, but you weren’t sure there was anything there to hit. You fired again anyway, as the ghost continued its assault on you, throwing whatever it could find laying around in the dingy basement.
It all happened so fast. You heard Dean call your name and his footsteps as he ran towards you. Above you, the basement door creaked open, and you really hoped it was Sam coming to help search the basement. Dean burst through a door, and finally, you saw his flashlight beam fall on you. Relieved, you lowered your gun for a split second and thud! something hard smacked your right temple, shattering and falling to the floor. You dropped instantly beside it, your head hitting the ground when you fell.
You heard Dean scream out “NO!” and the footsteps on the stairs grew much louder, pounding into your head. “Y/N!” Sam thundered down the remaining stairs and immediately knelt beside you, his hands pressing to your head, trying to see where you’d been hit. You heard Dean yell “Fuck!” and fire again. “Sammy, get her out of here! I’ll take care of this bastard--” 
Wordlessly, Sam gathered your crumpled body into his arms and headed back up to the main floor of the house, taking the stairs two at a time. You fought to stay awake in his arms. You probably had a concussion; if not from the glass hitting your head, then definitely from your head smacking the hard ground. Surely, if you just closed your eyes for a second, it wouldn’t hurt, right?
Sam spoke to you, saying something you couldn’t quite make out. When had he set you down? His hand tapped your cheek frantically, “Y/N, you gotta stay awake. C’mon, focus on me.” You peeled your eyes open and saw he’d put you down on the old couch in the living room. He knelt beside your head, shotgun gripped tightly and aimed at the door to the basement you’d just come out of. 
Sure enough, you saw the specter appear in front of you. At least it didn’t have anymore shit to throw. Sam fired, and the ghost flickered, disappearing only to reappear somewhere to your left. Sam fired again and again, fending off the spirit and effectively keeping it from coming anywhere close to you.
This time, the ghost appeared behind the couch you were laying on. Sam aimed over your head and fired, but nothing happened. He dropped the gun, and the ghost crept closer to you, smiling evilly down at you with its crooked and rotted teeth. You tried to cry out for Sam, but it came out as more of a groan. You heard a grunt, and something flashed above you, passing through the spirit and dissolving it. Sam huffed next to you, fire iron in hand. His chest rose and fell as he scanned the room frantically for the next place the spirit would pop up.
Which happened to be right in front of the basement door. The spirit hissed as Sam advanced on it, looking positively dangerous. Suddenly, the specter froze, looking down at its chest where it had burst into flames. It screeched as it burned, dissolving into a column of flame before vanishing. Sam dropped the fire iron, rushing back to your side, just as you hear more pounding footsteps on the stairs. 
Sam brushes your hair away from your face, speaking softly to you, “You’re gonna be just fine, Y/N. We’re gonna get Dean and go right back to the room to fix you up, good as new.” Dean appeared at the top of the stairs, hurrying to your side in a heartbeat. He took one look at your eyes, struggling not to close, and nudged his brother insistently.
“How’s she doing, Sam?” His eyes scanned nervously up and down your body, as if making sure you weren’t hiding any more injuries from them.
Sam’s fingers gently brushed against your temple. “The bleeding stopped here, so I think she’ll be okay,” he spoke, lifting you gingerly into his strong arms once again. “We should just get her back to the room, so I can make sure she hasn’t got any other injuries we need to worry about.”
“Okay good,” Dean sighed in relief. “Let’s go.” He hurried for the impala, Sam close behind him, still assuring you it would be alright. You leaned your head against his chest, not even having the energy to attempt to respond.
When they reached the car, Dean opened the backdoor for Sam to lay you down on the backseat. When you figured out what he was trying to do, your eyes flew open, fist closing around the front of Sam’s shirt, “No…” you whined. 
Sam looked surprised at your voice, “No? It’s okay, Y/N/N. I’m just gonna put you down in the back of the Impala, okay?”
You wondered if he thought you didn’t know where you were. “I know,” you said, trying to shake off at least a little of the daze you’d been in since the basement. “Just-- you stay with me. Please?”
Sam looked up at Dean, who’d already gone around to the driver’s side, as if asking permission. Dean nodded, getting into the car, and Sam murmured, “Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you settled.”
You didn’t protest this time, and somehow he managed to maneuver his huge frame and your tiny one into the backseat without bumping anything. You sat more upward now on his lap, legs resting on the other side of him, and your head tucked under his chin leaning gently up against his shoulder. His strong arms held you tight against his body, one hand brushing your hair away from your forehead every so often. 
Sam’s hands ran up and down your arms, simultaneously trying to comfort you and keep you awake. He was worried about you. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t think your injury was too bad, but he hadn’t had a chance to really look at it to make sure. The fact that the bleeding had stopped and you were already starting to shake off the hazy look in your eyes was comforting to him, but he couldn’t be too careful. After all, he couldn’t risk losing you, and he knew Dean couldn’t either. 
Sam knew for a fact that his brother had quite the crush on you, and if he was honest, he did, too. But from what he could tell, Dean had been gone for you since the day Bobby had introduced the three of you. Sam himself had caught feelings not long after, but seeing as how you lived with them now, and they didn’t want to risk messing that up, neither of them had said a word, aside from Dean’s usual flirting that he did with everyone. Sam was almost content just being your best friend. Almost.
Dean’s eyes kept flicking back to check on you in the rearview mirror. He hoped Sam had been right when he said you’d be okay. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d do if you weren’t. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he knew he was head over heels. He started praying mentally to Cas, thoughts swirling through his brain, making it hard for him to focus. ‘Uh, hey, Cas, so Y/N got hit in the head pretty hard. I-- I think she’ll be okay, just please, don’t let anything too bad happen to her.’ 
Dean knew there wasn’t much of a point to his prayer. Whatever the damage was, it had already happened, but at the least, he could give Cas a heads up in case there was something really wrong. At any rate, it made him feel better. He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly, gaze fixed on the two-lanes stretched out before him.
Tumblr media
The wheels of the impala squealed as Dean pealed into the parking lot of the motel. Sam rocked slightly with the movement of the car, still holding you tightly in his lap as he tried to keep still. The last thing you needed was to be flung across the back seat due to Dean’s frantic driving. Dean threw the car in park and flung the door to the backseat open. He took one look at you before his eyes found Sam’s. He hurriedly reached for you, gesturing for Sam to pass you to him, and asked, “how is she?”
Sam clambered out behind him, following with the motel key as Dean carried you to the door of their room, “I don’t know, Dean. I tried to keep her awake, and she looked like she was coming back to herself, but-- well, I don’t know, she’s still conscious, right?” He fumbled with the door until finally it swung open, and Sam ducked inside, holding the door for Dean to follow with you still cradled in his arms. 
Your head lolled against Dean’s chest as your eyes fluttered weakly. You blinked and winced as Sam turned on the light, hiding your face further in Dean’s chest. He looked down at your movement, “Yeah, Sam, she’s awake for right now, but come help me check her out.”
“Yeah, I’m on it, just let me grab a towel or something,” Sam ducked into the bathroom, and Dean heard the water running. 
Taking a few steps forward, he laid you gently down onto the bed, arranging the pillow so you could lie comfortably. He sat on the edge of the bed right next to you and tried to brush your tangled hair away from the cut that stretched from your temple to your forehead and to your hairline, but your hair was matted with mostly dried blood. His fingers ran softly down the side of your face. ‘I just can’t lose you. No way, maybe Cas could--’
“Dean?” you spoke, barely getting out a whisper, but jolting Dean from his thoughts all the same. You tried to sit up, or at least look around a bit, but Dean stopped you with a gentle grip on your shoulders.
“Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. You hit your head pretty hard. You’re gonna be okay, Sammy and I are gonna make sure of it, but you gotta lay real still for me, okay?”
You nodded slightly, wincing at your movement. Just then, Sam came back from the bathroom with a soft towel and a warm washcloth. Dean moved out of the way and to the other side of the bed so he could stay next to you without being in Sam’s way. 
Sam knelt on the floor beside you, almost as tall as Dean had been sitting on the bed, and his fingers brushed gently where Dean’s had been a minute before. He started to gently clean the area around the cut, wiping off the blood so he could inspect your cut better. You whimpered at the tiny amount of pressure he placed in the cut, even as gentle as he was.
He murmured soft apologies and gestured for Dean to pass him the bottle of alcohol, which sat on the bedside table. Dean did, and Sam made eye contact with you, “Okay, this is gonna sting a little bit, but we can’t let it get infected, so be my brave girl for just a second, ‘kay?”
You murmured agreement as he set the washcloth just under your cut and carefully poured the whiskey over it. You whimpered and hissed as the alcohol burned the raw skin. It felt like it was sizzling, and your eyes screwed shut in a wince. Sam and Dean both hovered over you, hushing you gently.
“Good job, sweetheart,” Dean soothed, brushing your hair back from your face on the opposite side from your injury. “Mhm,” Sam nodded, grabbing some cotton balls from the little bag resting beside him and dabbing at the cut, making sure to clean it thoroughly. When he was done, he stood up and gestured for Dean to follow him.
Dean stood up and walked around the side of the bed, following Sam to where he stood next to the little table by the motel room door. “Yeah, what’s up?” Dean whispered, once he and Sam were face to face. His hand swept across his mouth and chin as it was prone to do when he got anxious.
“You need to call, Cas,” Sam whispered, nodding towards the bed where you lay. “I didn’t wanna say it in front of her. Didn’t wanna worry her, and the cut itself isn’t that bad, but I’m worried about her head. I mean, it could be fine, but the nearest hospital is hours away. You know how head injuries are… you don’t catch them in time, and suddenly…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. 
“Yeah, alright, well, I’ve been calling Cas, but I guess he’s in the middle of something, cause he sure as hell ain’t here,” Dean huffed.
“You’ve got a better shot than me, getting him here, and you know it, so keep praying,” Sam’s eyes were now fixed over Dean’s shoulder to where you lay on the bed, watching them, barely keeping your eyes open, but wanting to know what they were whispering about all the same.
“Sammy?” you called, seeing him looking at you. Sam’s heart broke a little hearing the weakness in your voice. He stepped around Dean and was by your side in two of his massive strides. 
“Yeah, honey?” He wasn’t entirely sure where ‘honey’ had come from, but you didn’t seem at all upset about it. He sat down on the side of the bed next to you, hand immediately reaching to push your hair back from your forehead.
“How bad is it? It’s okay, right?” Ah, the question he’d been dreading. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to worry you. His heart broke a little more at the sight of your trembling lip. He guessed his and Dean’s reactions weren’t helping you not to worry.
“Well, uh, you might be okay, but you got hit pretty hard, and uh-- well, I just, I don't know the most about head injuries, but if it’s serious then, you either need a hospital or Cas.”
“I’d much prefer Cas,” you winced. The second his name left your mouth, the angel appeared with a whoosh on the other side of the bed. Dean gestured, exasperated, and got up from the table by the door where he’d been sitting.
“I am sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” Cas began, hands already raised as Dean stalked towards him. Eyes narrowed, Dean opened his mouth, probably in preparation to chew Cas out, but Cas continued, “I was needed in Heaven. I’m sorry.”
He walked around the side of the bed to stand next to your head. “Hello, Y/N. I’m just gonna--” he rested his hand on top of your forehead, and a blinding light washed through you from it. You felt your body knitting itself back together, and the massive pressure in your head was relieved. Your eyes drooped, and the pain melted away, leaving you incredibly tired.
Cas sighed in relief, “She’s fine now. She’ll probably be exhausted though, so it’s best you don’t go anywhere for a day or so.”
Dean came forward and clapped his hand down on Cas’ shoulder, “Thanks, buddy. We appreciate it.”
“Of course, Dean. Anything I can do to help,” Cas was visibly drained, and you felt badly about that, but concentrating on anything was becoming increasingly difficult by the second. Your eyes fluttered shut again, and the last thing you heard before drifting off was the deep rumble of Sam’s voice thanking Cas again.
Tumblr media
“Y/N/N. Hey sweetheart, wake up for me, okay?” You opened your eyes slightly, squinting as they adjusted to the light. Dean’s wrinkled brow came into view, and you smiled up at him slightly. He was just so cute when he worried about you like that. 
“Hi De,” you murmured sleepily, rubbing your eyes. 
“Hi honey,” he smiled back. “Can you sit up a little bit and have some water? I bet you’re dehydrated.”
“I’m okay, Dean,” you said, accepting the glass he held to your lips anyway. You took several long sips to appease the man sitting in front of you before turning your head away. Dean let the glass rest on his knee as he brushed his hand over your forehead, as if checking for a temperature.
“Dean, I’m fine,” you insisted. “Really. Cas fixed me up good as new, I promise.”
“We were really worried about you there for a minute, Y/N,” he said. “I mean, you were kinda in and out a bit. Not sure if you noticed. Sammy thought you might’ve had some internal bleeding, and we didn’t know what we were gonna do if Cas didn’t show--” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.
Sam sighed from the other bed, “Yeah, it was bad for awhile. I don’t know how much you remember…” he trailed off. He wondered if you’d even remember the pet names he’d called you while you were injured. He hadn’t even meant to-- they’d just slipped out in his frenzy to try and help you. If you did remember though, he was pretty sure you’d know how he felt about you.
Hell, that would complicate things. He was almost 100% positive you knew how Dean felt about you. It was hard not to. Dean was so caring and gentle with you, yet so gruff with everyone else. He was pretty sure you liked Dean back, too, and he didn’t want to stand in the way of yours and his brother’s happiness.
“I remember you saving me. So thank you for that, both of you,” you took Dean’s hand and rested your joined hands on his knee. You turned your head, meeting Sam’s eyes and reached out your hand towards him, too, gesturing for him to sit beside you as well. He got up from the other bed and sat on the other side of you, leaving enough space between you to be respectful. 
You rolled your eyes and gestured him closer. With your permission, he came a bit closer and reached for your face, as if to cup your cheek in his big hand, before hesitating. You leaned your head closer to his hand, closing the gap between you. Sam caught his breath and nervously glanced at his brother, who had been watching you both since Sam had come from the other bed. 
Dean gave him a little nod as if granting him permission to touch you, and Sam directed his attention back to you.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he sighed, “we were so worried about you. ‘M so glad you’re okay.” He took your other hand in both of his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand in the comforting way only Sam could.
You cleared your throat, mind racing. Were you really about to say this to them? Hopefully, you weren’t reading them wrong, and they really did feel the same way for you as you did for them. But how would they react to you wanting them both? You could only guess.
“I have to tell you both something.” They looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. You could only hope it was already obvious. You’d hate to scare them both off. Then, what would you do? Where would you even go? Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you should just shut up and pretend this never-- “I like you. Both.”
They blinked at you. Had they even heard you? A panicky feeling started to well up in your chest, but then Dean spoke.
“Okay, sweetheart.” ‘Okay’? That’s all this man had to say? No shock, no disgust, no ‘that’s wrong. you have to pick one’?
Then, Sam spoke, “I like you, too, Y/N. And I know Dean does. We’re glad you feel the same way. And I just want you to know that it’s okay with me that you have feelings for the both of us.” He nodded at Dean. “Sometimes that’s just what happens, and it doesn’t make your feelings for either one of us less valid.”
“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat. “Believe it or not, Sammy and I have had feelings for the same girl before. Now, she only had feelings for Sam, but we’d discussed what we’d have done if she’d liked us both.”
He and Sam exchanged a look, one of those brother looks that meant they were having an entire conversation without speaking aloud. They turned back towards you, looking you in the eyes, as Sam spoke.
“If having both of us is really what you want, we’re willing to share.”
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading!! If you think this should be a series, please let me know down below! xx
Tags: If you would like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask, or put it in the comments. If you don’t want to be tagged or you want to change which list you’re on, please send me an ask, and I’ll take care of that for you asap :)
Forevers: @downanddirtydean  @deanwanddamons @katelynw93 @zooaliaa @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @deangirl93 @that-one-gay-girl
Dean Winchester: @akshi8278​
Sam Winchester: @watermelonlipstick​  
222 notes · View notes
ejlovespie · 3 years
Text
You Give Me Strength
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)
Summary: A hunt gone wrong puts Dean and the reader in danger. When the reader gets severely injured, Dean is there to help her recover.  (angst & fluff)
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 1860
Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Torture/Near Death Experience
Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader angst/fluff/near death one shot where the reader and dean gets captured by vampires or demons during a hunt gone wrong and the reader keeps talking back to them to piss them off so she can distract them from hurting dean which results in her getting beaten up in front of him and severely injured while he gets all protective and worried. 
A/N: This was my first reader’s request and I am stoked about it! Thank you Anon! This was so much fun to write so I hope you like it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)
As far as you could tell, you were in the basement of an abandoned building. The smell of mildew filled your nose and occasionally you would see something skitter across the grimy floor. Gross. About a yard away, there was a crack in the ceiling that was slowly dripping water into a little puddle. The drip drip sound was driving you crazy so you re-directed your attention to the room around you. The only light came from a few candles on a table where a knife and a bowl sat. You and Dean were both handcuffed to beams in the middle of the room, far enough a part where you couldn’t reach each other. You were also too far away from the table or anything else that you could grab to use as a weapon. You sighed. This was supposed to be a routine hunt; nothing that you and Dean couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, the demons you had been tracking had got the drop on you. One minute you were both walking down the street and the next, you felt a pinch on your neck and you had lost consciousness within minutes. 
 Dean still hadn’t woken from being drugged. You had called his name a few times, trying to wake him but he didn’t stir, just continued to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm. You sat there for what felt like hours before the sound of a door slamming behind you made you jump. You heard footsteps as someone walked into the room and you tried squinting into the dark to see. After a moment, a man walked over to Dean’s slumped form. You yelled at him when his foot came out and he kicked Dean’s leg. Ignoring you, he bent over and stuck a needle into Dean’s neck. You cursed and yelled again but were cut off when Dean suddenly startled awake. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wild and angry, and growled when he saw you. The man had walked over to the table in the center of the room and was picking up the knife. Shit. You could his eyes now; they were pitch black. Demon. You tugged at your handcuffs again, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 
 The demon noticed you struggling and laughed as he walked over to Dean, who was glaring at him. His black eyes turned to you and he smiled before he took the knife and slowly started to dig it into Dean’s collarbone. You screamed as Dean groaned in pain and the demon laughed. In this situation, you had no way to help Dean except to distract the threat. You had to make him focus on you instead. You didn’t think before you started cursing and yelling at him, trying to goad him into walking away from Dean. 
 “Hey! Leave him alone you black eyed bastard!” 
 The demon ignored you and you started to panic when he brought the knife up to Dean’s face. You kept yelling, more desperate now. 
 “Why don’t you bring that over here bitch! Better yet, how about you let me out of these cuffs so I can kick your ass?”
 The demon straightened and turned to face you, a huge, evil smile on his face. He sauntered toward you as Dean hollered at him to leave you alone. Hearing the worry in Dean’s voice, you sent him an apology in your mind. You gritted your teeth and braced yourself when the demon crouched in front of you. You watched as he blinked and blue eyes looked you over. You weren’t expecting the soft touch of his hand on your cheek. You flinched and turned your head away from him as he laughed again. 
 “Well, aren’t you a feisty thing. You can’t be patient and wait your turn? That’s fine. I will just torture you and let your boytoy over there watch.”
 You heard Dean yelling again as the demon smiled and brought the hand on your cheek down to your chin. His thumb rubbed at your dry lips for a moment before he leaned toward you, close enough to kiss you. You reacted. In a sharp movement, you crashed your forehead to his, and kicked out with your legs. You were hoping he would drop the knife and you could grab it or kick it to Dean somehow but the demon just reared back and slapped you hard across the face. Your cheek burned and you were seeing stars but a laugh tore from your throat. The surprised look on his face made you laugh even harder. You stopped laughing when the demon’s eyes turned black and fury contorted his face. He snarled at you, 
 “You’re going to pay for that you little bitch.”      
 In a rage, the demon slapped you across the face again and then stood and kicked you hard in the ribs. You cried out in pain as he continued to kick you three more times. On the third blow you felt a rib crack. You could hear Dean screaming and fighting against his restraints. You also heard the drip drip, dripping from the ceiling. You tried to keep your breathing even and deep but you were struggling to breathe through the pain from your rib. The demon crouched back down at eye level with you. Looking back at him, you smiled and taunted him further. 
 "You hit like a bitch." 
 Once again, the demon slapped you across the face so hard that your lip split. You could feel the blood trickle down your chin. The demon pulled the knife out and held it in front of you to see. With a taunting expression he said, 
 "You should have kept your mouth shut. Now, I'm going to have fun carving you up real slow before I cut your throat and bleed you like a pig." 
 Drip Drip
 He plunged the knife into your leg and you screamed in pain. With a twisted smile, the demon pulled the blade out of your leg, causing you to scream again. He repeated the move with your other leg. The pain was making you dizzy and you tried to focus and stay conscious. You heard Dean now begging the demon to leave you alone and it broke your heart to hear it. Be strong Dean, you thought to yourself.
Drip 
Looking down, you saw blood everywhere but it didn't look like the demon had severed an artery. You gritted your teeth and focused on his face, internally chanting to yourself to not pass out. He smiled at you again before bringing the knife close to your throat. The knife tip touched your skin and the demon made a shallow cut across it. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss or if you were going into shock but you didn't feel pain. You just felt the blood running down your neck and over your chest. You heard a loud crash behind you accompanied by a new voice. Sam? Your vision was starting to blur, blackness creeping in the corners of your vision. You tried to turn your head, to see what was happening but you couldn’t focus anymore. You heard gunshots and the sounds of a fight going on behind you when suddenly everything was quiet and Dean was by your side. He was taking your handcuffs off and telling you to hold on, to stay with him. He was gingerly lifting you into his arms. You tried to stay awake; to tell Dean that you were sorry but darkness pulled you under.     
                                                        -
When you woke, you were lying in a hospital bed. Your head was fuzzy and every part of your body felt numb. You squinted at the window where bright sunlight shone through. Dean was sitting there under the window, sleeping with his head on his arms. His large, calloused hand resting on yours on the bed. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, watching him sleep, but eventually you joined him, drifting off peacefully.   
You were only in the hospital for a few days. Although you had lost a lot of blood, you didn’t have any permanent damage. You had a cracked rib, possible nerve damage in your legs, and some scarring on your throat. The doctor said you were lucky; you could have bled out and died if you hadn’t made it to the hospital as fast as you did. You were finally home, back in the bunker, and lying in your own bed. Dean had been mad for the first few days, telling you off for what you did and threatening you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again. You had just smiled sweetly and batting your eyes said, 
“I couldn’t let him touch your pretty face Dean. That would be a crime against humanity and women everywhere would have mourned the loss.”     
 Neither he nor Sam found that as funny as you did. Regardless, Dean’s anger had faded and now he was constantly fussing over you. He hadn’t left your side since the hospital. He had carried you, helped you bathe, wrapped your ribs, and changed your bandages on your legs and neck. He sat with you in bed all day, everyday, watching movies, reading, and playing cards. He was so focused on you and your comfort that you had started to worry about him. You told him you would be fine on your own but Dean had refused to leave; he insisted on taking care of you. It was sweet. This big man, a badass hunter, being so gentle with you made your insides all warm and gooey. 
You were both lying in bed now and the wounds on your legs itched like crazy. In the healing process they had started to scab over and no lotion or creams helped. Scratching at your bandages, Dean scolded you before gently grabbing your wrists to keep you from scratching. You groaned in response and he chuckled. Your wrists were still in his hands and he brought them to his lips. Placing kisses on your knuckles, he said, 
 “You know you can’t scratch at them baby...Maybe I could distract you though.”
You giggled when he leaned into your neck and kissed you, the contrast of his scruffy face and soft lips giving you goosebumps. Dean kissed your neck before moving on to kiss your chin and then placed a longer, warm kiss on your lips. Kissing him back, you sighed feeling happy and content. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. With a serious look, he turned to face you and asked, 
“Promise me you won't do that again. Never put yourself in harm's way to protect me. I...I can’t lose you Y/N. I love you.” 
His words tugged at your heart but you argued, “I can’t promise that Dean. I will always fight for you. The way I feel..I don’t know. It’s like you give me strength. I would do anything to protect you.” 
Dean placed a soft kiss on your temple before murmuring, “Then I will just have to keep you here where we’re both safe.”  
Dean Tags:
@akshi8278
238 notes · View notes
jawritter · 4 years
Text
When The Lights Go Out
Chapter 4
Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.
Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader
Word Count: 2846
Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a double bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.
Chapter Warnings: Shy!Reader, angst, John is number one douchebag, talk of escort services, language, I think that’s it y’all.
A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!
(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)
Want more? Check out my masterlist!!
***MASTERLIST***
***SERIES MASTERLIST***
Tumblr media
“Relax, you're gonna be just fine.” Dean said soothingly as he stood in the doorway of your small apartment bathroom, watching you fuss over your makeup. 
Giving him your best bitch face in the mirror, you check your hair one more time before turning to him, letting your arms fall to your sides in a huff. 
“Well, I guess it’s gonna have to do, because this is as good as it’s gonna get.” you tell him, fighting the urge to throw up, scream, and run away all in one. 
True to his word, Dean had stayed at your place all night, and even though you hated to admit it, you did feel a little more comfortable around him now that the two of you had spent all of last night, and most of the day, together. 
If you were being honest, you weren’t sure what you were feeling as a whole. It did feel nice to cuddle with Dean last night, and it did help you a lot that he now knew you were a virgin, and didn't fire you from this strange job thing you had between you, or laugh in your face, but he was still a Winchester, and you were still in way over your head. 
If you fucked this dinner up today, you were both fucked, and that wasn’t something to take lightly.
Dean crosses the floor in one, maybe two strides, picking you up as if you weighed nothing at all, and sat you on the sink in your bathroom before slipping between your knees, his large hands on your waist in order to keep you from falling off, and your hands making their way around his neck to stay balanced. 
“I want you to do me something,” Dean said, leaning down and catching your lips in his in a swift peck to get your attention. “Stop worrying so fucking much!”
Leaning your head down on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and attempted to take a deep cleansing breath. You knew you were overthinking this.All you had to do is sit there and look pretty, much like at the party Friday night. 
Dean had gone over the “details” of your relationship over breakfast this morning, and now, at least, you had  a story of how you met. 
Dean had said since you were an accountant at JPMorgan, he would tell the family that he’d met you on one of his basic runs to the bank, and gotten your number.You were a few dates in, and had only been dating close to two months, which would explain the fact that you don’t know each other very well, and cover up the fact that you were still a little awkward around each other in some aspects. 
As far as the lack of job now, Dean said that you picked up a job as an editor for a local publishing company, and worked from home so that you could study graphic design on the computer. Something you always wanted to do. 
Dean also told you that he could help get you on at the publishing company to work from home reviewing different transcripts next week, so that everything would be legit. He also promised to pick up the slack in whatever money you needed, so that you would want for nothing, seeing as he was technically still your client, even though this had taken a turn far surpassing escort services, and client, clientele relationships. That ship sailed the moment that you had to be introduced to John fucking Winchester. 
“I just don’t want to fuck this up.” you tell him, searching his mossy green eyes as he searched yours. 
“Pretty girl, you’re not gonna fuck this up. Everything is gonna be just fine, just follow my lead, nothing bad will happen, and I have already told you, I will pay you very well, you know that. “
Nodding your head, you let Dean give you another peck on the lips before helping you down off of the sink, and lacing his fingers in your own, leading you towards your apartment door, and down to his car that was parked on the street. 
When you came to a stop you couldn’t help but drool over the sleek black ‘67 Impala that was waiting for you both there. Dean gave you a smirk as he opened the door, his features shifting to an almost playful, boyish smirk that seemed to wash away some of the years that he held so close to the surface, yet so out of reach. 
“You like?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully. 
“Dude, she’s beautiful!”
“She’s my Baby,” he said, helping you off the curb and into the car, shutting the door, before jogging around to the  driver’s side. 
Baby purred to life, as Dean turned the key in the ignition, and pulled onto the busy New York street. Reaching over he grabbed your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
‘You can do this Y/N,’ you thought to yourself, ‘just act natural.’
God, you hoped you weren’t lying to yourself, because if you fucked this up, there was no word in any language that would describe just how fucked you were.
-------------------------------
A short drive later, and Dean was turning onto an expansive estate in Upstate New York. Rolling hills with green grass, a long paved driveway, and a large house that looked more like a castle sitting on top of a hill greeted you as Dean pulled up in front of the house, and put Baby in park.
“Okay sweetheart, you ready?” Dean asked, giving you a reassuring smile as he put his hand on the door, ready to open it.  
“As I’ll ever be,” you tell him in what you hoped was a confident tone. Dean smiled at you, giving you a peck on the cheek and whispering in your ear.
“It’s already show time Y/N. People are watching and there are cameras everywhere, but it’s okay, I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you remember that.“
Nodding your head, you lean over and boldly give him a peck on the lips, which caused a grin to spread across his face. His eyes sparkled as he kicked the door open, and made his way around the car to open your door. 
You weren’t even out of the car all the way when Sam came to a stop in front of the two of you with Jessica in tow. 
“Dean, Y/N, It’s good to see you again.” Sam said, greeting you warmingly and Jessica smiled at the two of you. You managed to give Sam a tight, nervous smile as Dean pulled you closer to him. 
“Where is everyone Sammy?” Dean asks, turning Sam’s attention away from you, and to his older brother. 
“Out back in the garden. Dad said he wants to have dinner out there. He’s been in a mood all day, you know how he gets. He’s not happy about that deal that didn’t go over so well this week with you, so get ready for that.” Sam warned, and Dean let out a heavy breath. 
“Yeah, I figured as much.” Dean said, as he and Sammy started making their way towards the garden in the back part of the estate with you and Jessica in tow. Jessica gave you an encouraging smile as you both rounded the corner, and you wondered just how nervous you looked to her. 
You didn’t really have time to  speak to her before the booming voice of John Winchester crossed the lawns, as John, Rufus, and another man in a ball cap came into view. Rufus excused himself, heading towards the other side of the house, as the four of you approached the long table that was already set with plates, beers, and wine. 
“Dean, I was wondering where the hell you got off to when you got home from that job I sent you on, I should have known this pretty little thing would have had something to do with your disappearance.”
You blushed deeply as you hid slightly behind Dean, wishing John would find another target, and just leave you alone.
“Easy old man, you're gonna scare her off, and then I’ll be down to the only girl amongst all you boys.” Jessica chided, as she flopped down at a chair at the table. 
“Jessica, so nice of you to join us this evening.” John said, giving her the side eye before turning his attention back towards Dean, who was helping you sit down in a chair before taking a seat next to you, Sam sitting down next to Jessica.
“So boy. What the hell happened?” John asked, jumping right to business as waiters appeared out of nowhere and started plating food for everyone at the table. 
“He didn’t like your terms, so I executed the order you gave me before I left.”
“You could have at least tried to change his mind.” John said, taking a bite of his food, eyeing Dean like a wolf that was eyeing his pry. You hated the way he looked at Dean. Sure you didn’t know much about their business, but you certainly didn’t feel Dean deserved the way John treated him.
“That’s not really a conversation for dinner Dad,” Sam said, stepping in for his brother, “Dean’s the best we got. If he said the deal didn’t fly, it didn’t fly, it’s that simple.”
John gave Sam an irritated look, but didn’t press the issue.
“Oh, Y/N, where are our manners, so wrapped up with business and all that I almost forgot to introduce you to our guest! This is my friend Bobby. He’s going to be opening up a garage in the area, so he’s here scouting property, and Bobby, this is Y/N, Dean’s new girlfriend."
Bobby gave you a smile and a nod, but said nothing, letting the conversation fall away a little as everyone tucked into their food. What conversation did flow was a lot lighter. Sport, cars, family members that John hadn’t seen in a while.If you didn’t know better, they almost felt like a normal family. Almost. 
One thing you had to say for sure was that you did very much like Jessica.She bit no bones with the large, dangerous men at the table around her, and had no problem putting each and every one of them in their place if they needed it. Especially John. She was like Sam’s personal pitbull, and you made a mental note to make sure that you stayed on her good side. 
Soon enough the dinner was over, and Bobby had excused himself, saying he needed to get back to work, leaving only you and Jessica with the Winchesters. John wiped his face, and threw his napkin down on his empty plate in front of him, his eyes dancing across the table at Dean and you, a smirk that would make the devil blush on his face, as his dark gaze stuck on Dean. 
“Sammy, why don’t you take Jessica in the house and do something to entertain yourselves, I want to have a word with your brother and Y/N in private.” John said, and you saw Dean and Sam exchange a confused look as Sam and Jessica got up from the table, making their way towards the house. Dean shifted closer to you, lacing his fingers through yours to stop your hands from shaking. 
Whatever John had in mind to discuss with the two of you, you had a feeling that this was going to be uncomfortable at best, and humiliating at worst. 
When Sam and Jessica were no longer outside, John turned his full attention to the two of you. 
“So, Y/N. How long have you been seeing my son?”
Swallowing hard, you try to speak past the lump in your throat, your voice coming out a lot smaller than you would have liked it to.
“About two months.”
John nodded, biting his lip and running his hand over his beard. 
“Two months, hmm. So I assume you know by now the line of work our family does.” 
Dean made to say something, but the distinct sound of a gun cocking behind you made you both stop dead in your tracks. Your shaking became visible, but Dean stayed calm, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 
“She knows in theory, but she doesn’t know any details.” Dean said, completely unbothered by the gun that was pointing at his back.
“Let the girl speak for herself Dean.” John said, leering at his son from across the table.
“I don’t know a lot sir, nor do I want to.” 
John nodded his head, chuckling to himself before reaching in his pocket and pulling out his phone, throwing it down on the table in front of you. The picture of Your Sugar Daddy app on full display. Your eyes went wide, and your mouth went dry. Even Dean sat up a little straighter next to you.
“You two want to cut the bullshit and explain this, because you know I don’t like to be lied to Dean.” He said, his voice dripping with venom. “Did you bring a fucking whore into my house Dean? To my dinner table?”
“No.” Dean said, eyes locked on his father.
“Then what the fuck is she doing on the site son?”
“It’s not like that.” Dean said, shifting in his chair.
“Really, because there are DM’s on this account asking her to escort you to your brother’s party last Friday night. Did you think I wouldn’t do a background check boy?”
Suddenly your brain that had turned to a mush of fear started working, an idea hitting you like a lightning bolt. 
“Roll play,” you blurted out, and both men looked at you with shocked expressions, before Dean’s became slightly amused. 
“That’s right father, it’s just, roll play, nothing more.” Dean said, licking his lips sensually, throwing his arm around you, and running his teeth over your ear, sending a visible shiver down your spine that landed somewhere deep in your belly.
The shock faded from John’s face, and pure amusement took its place as he clapped his hands together, throwing his head back in a laugh as the man with a gun behind Dean disappeared. 
“I’m sorry you two. For a moment I thought you were actually an escort.” John said, still chuckling to himself.
Dean gave a tight laugh, and you blushed deeper than you ever have in your life.
“Well father, my sex life isn’t something I like to brag about, I like to keep what happens in the bedroom between the two of us.”
John nodded, still looking very amused, but you thank any God that was listening that he bought it. 
“Speaking of your bedroom, that’s something else I want to talk to you about.” John said, and Dean sat back seriously in his chair.
“In order to keep your girlfriend safe, and keep the high table off of your ass, I want your girlfriend to move onto the estate with you.”
Your eyes bugged out of your skull, and Dean stiffened next to you.
“Dad, this is, sudden, I’m not sure that’s necessary. We’ve only been together two months.”
John raised his hand, stopping Dean mid sentence.
“It wasn’t a request. I expect you to have her completely moved in by tomorrow morning. I know you said she doesn't know a lot, but a little is too much these days.” 
You didn’t know whether you were going to cry or pass out, but John seemed to have sensed your upset state. Placing a hand on your shoulder as he came around the table that made your skin crawl, you leaned in closer to Dean.
“It’s for your protection Y/N. Trust me. Also it won't be so bad here! Most women would give up everything to find themselves in your shoes! Now Dean, take her and get her settled in, you can go and help her collect her things tomorrow.”
With that John left the two of you both sitting alone as the dark sky spread over the expansive lawn.
For just a moment you thought you were going to succumb to tears, but Dean’s hand around yours, lifting you from the table, and leading you through the house that would now be your home kept you grounded and in character.
Dean said nothing, just led you through the overly done halls, and rooms filled with expensive furniture. 
 You got to his bedroom. It was a large room with a fireplace of its own, the same expensive furniture that lined the whole house, and a huge king sized bed. With the door safely closed, you fell into his arms,letting the tears wash over you, and he let you cry it out, picking you up, and laying you down on the satin sheets that covered the bed. Shushing you, and kissing the top of your forehead. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Forever Tag List: @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @waywardsistershy​ @deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​
322 notes · View notes
Text
Warnings: Weecest, a little angsty, jealous!Sam, bratty, emotional, and confused baby brother content, feminization, name calling, humiliation, sadist!Dean, spankings, and of course, that sweet, sweet fucked up codependency. 💋
--------------
Sam just wanted Dean's attention. He always had.
And when he didn't get it, Sam felt not only emotionally, but physically injured by his brother's "neglect." Like Dean had taken his switchblade to Sam's heart, cutting it open just a little bit to play with it. As if he was curious to what was inside. Like Dean had no clue know that every vein, artery, and nerve worked in unison for him.
And over the years, that small wound had ripped open wider and wider on it's own, even though it was no secret that Dean's life had always revolved around Sam.
Perhaps it was a product of Sam's jealousy? His resentment towards John and the unshakable devotion Dean showed him?
Sam didn't really know. But no matter the cause, what was once a dull ache in Sam's chest was now a blinding pain. The only hope of soothing it resting solely on his big brother's touch.
And the worst part about it? Dean knew. He knew Sam was desperate for something so simple as a sideways glance or a pat on the back. Sam would poke and prod and tug at the hem of Dean's shirt for just the slightest bit of recognition, like he really didn't know that he was already the very center of his big brother's entire world.
It was infuriating sometimes, and it made Dean want to be cruel just to prove a point. Besides, at the end of the day, Dean was still Sam's big brother. Ignoring him was part of Dean's job description. And maybe, just maybe, Dean got a sick sense of satisfaction out of making Sammy beg like a slut for something that was already his.
"Dean, c'mon! Pay attention!"
John had only been gone for ten minutes before Sam was shaking Dean's leg violently, trying to make his brother look up from the magazine he was reading.
"Jesus Christ, Sam. Can't you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?"
Dean doesn't have to see Sam's face to know the younger boy is pouting; the corner of his lips turning up in a twisted smirk at the thought of his little brother's pretty eyes starting to water.
There's no answer to Dean's question, just a loud huff and the sound of the bathroom door slamming, rusty screws barely keeping it on the hinges.
And if Dean didn't get such a kick out of being an asshole to his needy little brother he might have felt bad for hurting Sam's feelings. But he doesn't, mainly because this was all part of the sick, fucked up game they'd been playing since Sam had turned sixteen. This volatile give and take, back and forth, born out of Sam's misguided pain. The younger boy thinking that Dean loved John more than him and Dean's cutthroat determination to prove his little brother wrong. To show Sam that even if he isn't looking, he's still paying attention. And that he couldn't stop paying attention to Sam even if he tried.
Honestly, Dean still gets a little hot under the collar thinking about the first Sammy pushed his buttons like this. He'd been both mortified and so disgustingly turned on when he found out that his sweet baby brother knew just how to act bratty and coy to get fucked through the mattress. God, Dean was so pissed and guilty about it at the time that he'd almost thrown up afterwards.
Even now, Dean feels kinda queasy. But the feeling is so simple to ignore this go around because he's also rock hard and shaking a little from the anticipation.
Oh, and of course, Sam makes him wait. Almost two fucking hours. Tiny beads of water still dripping from the younger boy's long, dirty blonde hair when Sam finally emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of lacy blue panties and a triumphant smile.
"Seriously, Samuel?" Dean asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady as he tosses his magazine to the side and sits up.
But Sam, being the shameless little tease that he is, just grins wider and does a slow turn. Making sure to show off every sharp curve and flawless inch of sun kissed skin he had before looking over at Dean and giggling.
"Think you can ignore me now, big brother?"
Sam barely gets the words out before Dean is off the bed, marching over to him with purpose, not stopping until the two of them are only a few inches apart and his baby brother's eyes are wide with fear.
"What do you want, Sam?" The older boy asks through gritted teeth, even though the answer is so painfully obvious.
And even though it is, Sam can't say it. He's never been able to because it's Dean's job to know. Without Dean guiding the way, Sam's just a confused kid with a need so intense and overwhelming that it could swallow him whole. And it would, if it wasn't for Dean.
Dean knows what Sam wants, and Sam hates the fact that he doesn't hate his brother for making him feel this way.
But still, he can't talk and he can't explain, so instead Sam just whines. Taking a timid step forward into his brother's personal space, searching for pity with those big innocent doe eyes. And fuck, does that do the trick. Every. Single. Time.
"What, baby?" Dean asks again, this time softer, his expression lightening as he grabs Sam by the wrist to pull him closer.
"Dean."
Sam's knees feel wobbly. His heart threatening to pound out of his chest because there's nothing in the world more intoxicating and simultaneously terrifying than looking into Dean's gorgeous green eyes when they're full of rage and passion.
"You want this?" Dean's voice is rough, like cigarette smoke blown over shattered glass as he guides Sam's trembling hand between his thighs. Pressing his little brother's warm palm hard against his erection before he makes Sam squeeze just a little, the both of them letting out a breathy groan.
"Please Dean," Sam whimpers, knees nearly buckling when Dean leans forward with a filthy grin, cherry red lips ghosting lightly over Sam's. The older boy teasing him like he always did. Pretending like wasn't eventually going to give Sam everything he wanted and more.
"Say it."
Sam's stomach clenches at the command, throat going dry because he hates this part. (Or at least Sam pretends that he does.)
"I want..." Sam groans, eyes closed tight as Dean nuzzles against him, making Sam go crazy with need. "I want your cock. Please Dean."
When Sam hears Dean chuckle, a low, filthy sound that makes his insides feel unbearably hot, Sam almost starts crying again. He's so naive and inexperienced compared to Dean. And Dean knows Sam feels like an idiot when his big brother makes him talk dirty. Which is exactly why he does it. The bastard.
"I know you do, baby boy," Dean laughs as he takes a step back, and Sam swears he feels his heart detach and drop into his stomach. Long, bony fingers instinctively trying to curl around Dean's shirt but to no avail.
"Dean-"
Sam's temper tantrum is cut short when Dean sits down on the foot of the bed and raises a hand, the look on his face calm but dangerous and it makes Sam almost swallow his own tongue.
"C'mere and lay across my lap."
"Why should I?"
Sam's voice doesn't sound like his own when he challenges his brother. It's weak and breathless and honestly, Sam can't believe an apex predator like Dean didn't go for his throat right then and there.
"You've been buckin' for my attention all day, sweetheart. You got a better way to get it?"
God, Sam wishes he did because the last thing he wants is to give in so easily. But what Sam's been dying for is right here in front of him now. Ripped jeans wrapped tight around thick thighs that he'd sell his soul to be bent over and Sam isn't about to turn down an open invitation.
"Gotta hand it to you, little brother," Dean says when Sam's finally stretched out across his lap. Sam's pretty face, flushed and tear stained, hidden in the mattress as Dean starts to soflty rub circles against his ass. "Despite all that fuss, you really are an obdient little bitch."
"Fuc-"
Sam nearly gags on his insult when he feels Dean's palm, rough and warm, connect with his right ass cheek. The blow hard enough to make his whole body jerk, tears of frustration rather than pain starting to blur his vision as he squirms in Dean's lap.
"Dean, please," Sam begs, his tight panties completely soaked through as he rubs himself desperately against Dean's thigh. His cock so hard and swollen that he feels a little dizzy, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance in his mind. Every one of his nerve endings on fire as Dean continues his ruthless assault. Each gentle touch followed by a thunderous smack that Sam swears makes his teeth rattle.
"Hey, don't cry, baby boy," Dean whispers when one of his rough blows finally rips a sob from Sam's throat. "This is what you wanted right? My undivided attention?"
Sam chokes back the urge to tell Dean that he hates him. One, because he doesn't. They both know that. And two, because if Sam doesn't swallow his pride soon and play by Dean's rules, he knows he'll never get want he really wants. That's what all this is about after all. Sam's insatiable need and Dean's absolute willingness to provide.
"C'mon, Sammy. You're a smart kid, you know what your answer should be."
Sam's only response is a loud, wanton groan, his knuckles turning chalk white around the blanket beneath him when he feels the tip of Dean's finger, rough and slick with spit, tease his rim. Pressing just hard enough to make Sam's hips jerk, but not applying quite enough pressure to slip inside him.
"Yes," Sam croaks, daring to push back against his brother's finger only to be rewarded with a smack to his right ass cheek that makes him see stars. "This is what I wanted."
"I know it is, slut."
Dean's finger feels wetter this time, hotter. And Sam's not expecting his brother to push in so deep, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when Dean barely grazes his prostate, clearly torturing Sam for all the shit he'd put him through that day. An eye for an eye was most definitely the Winchester way.
"You want me to finger fuck this tight little pussy until you make a mess all over your cute panties, don't ya baby boy?"
"Yes! Fuck Dean please." Sam isn't even trying to hold back his sobs now, big salty tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiggles around in Dean's lap. Desperate for his big brother to fuck him deeper. But before he can get the leverage he needs, Sam's empty again, mouth hanging open as Dean's next blow makes his whole body rock forward involuntary, neglected cock throbbing painfully against the worn denim of his brother's jeans.
"I'll give you want you want, Sammy," Dean coos, caressing Sam's battered skin with his palm. "I always do. But first, I'm gonna teach you a lesson about acting like a brat."
Of course, Sam's been taught this lesson before and it hasn't seemed to stick. But it doesn't matter, because they both know as long as Sam craves his big brother's attention, Dean will gladly put him in his place give it to him.
222 notes · View notes
sapphia · 3 years
Text
alright so i don’t write fanfiction anymore and i haven’t even really been in this fandom for years, but if i was writing supernatural, here’s how the destiel thing would have played out: 
they gay plotline would happen about season 9-11, pacing wise. cas and dean are close and have a shared bond, and know each other pretty well at this point, but things haven’t started getting repetitive yet plot wise. the season big bad is irrelevant because lets be honest they’re all pretty much the same. 
dean and cas have spent their time in purgatory together, and i’d move the purgatory reveal flashbacks from season 15 into season 8 alongside the normal flashbacks. 
you have your usual series opener in episode one with the massive conflict semi-resolving but also setting up the season’s big bad. at this point in episode one, cas sacrifices himself for dean specifically, but also helping advance the “mission” - however, while one of them had to die to keep the other alive so the job could be finished, it could have been either of them, not necessarily cas.
this of course spawns a bit of emotional angst, with dean being hit pretty hard by cas’s death. there’s a hint that his reaction is more emotion extreme than say, bobby or jo’s death, but still a bit less than if sam had died - and also notably takes it harder than sam. this sets up the fact that cas is more than just a tag along to dean. 
cas will be brought back about episode 4 (method irrelevant), and there’ll be an emotional reveal, but nothing too out of the ordinary. everyone’s just happy to see him alive again. there’ll be dialogue specific to dean and cas, of course, but just your generic “glad you’re back/what happened while i was away” catch up
episode 5 will have no destiel content, but there will be a minor male character who sort of flirts with dean. dean doesn’t reciprocate, and is flustered, but also doesn’t reject him (perhaps because he’s flustered), setting the stage for dean-is-not-straight-and-has-repressed-bi-feelings, but this is pretty minor and easily overlooked. sam witnesses this moment.
in episode 7, you’ll have a cas/dean centric ep, where they go off and investigate either by themselves or in a way that has sam occupied and away from them for a lot of the episode. they have a mini confrontation early/mid episode where dean says cas shouldn’t have sacrificed himself, that they could have found another way, that cas should have been the one to complete the mission and dean to die. 
cas’s response here will hint at his thoughts in 15x18 regarding what dean’s done for him, but much briefer. he implies that he’d rather dean had lived; dean is a good man, and cas sort of “owes” him this because dean has helped him find his humanity. he doesn’t confess his love or anything, but the implication that cas feels love (of some sort) because of knowing dean is definitely there. 
dean should be a little uncomfortable at the raw emotions of this scene, and pulls back, though castiel will remain earnest and completely unbothered by dean’s difficulty dealing with what he’s saying
the episode continues, and the hunt goes as normal, but towards the end, dean gets injured (head or face wound). cas heals him easily, but there is a moment that lingers a little too long, with cas’s hand on dean’s face. dean is a part of it - he feels it too - but it freaks him out and he ends the moment, pretending it didn’t happen. they carry on packing up/continuing the hunt/whatever they were doing before, but the final shot of the scene is dean looking at cas and wondering - what the hell was that? 
this is going to be played out pretty slow over the series, so in between the core relationship developing episodes there’ll be normal monster of the week episodes with just your normal amount of destiel subtext. the episode following cas and dean’s moment, for example, (episode 8 and 9) will be your average sam/dean/cas hunt with nothing more than a couple of small moments between cas and dean where cas is perhaps a little too intense and dean pulls away, or there’s an awkwardness between them, especially from dean’s side. episode 10 doesn’t have cas in it at all,  because dean has made an excuse to separate himself from cas - i.e. dean jumps at the opportunity to give cas a task that means he’ll be hunting separately to him and sam
episode 11 will be a sam/dean hunt, but in the middle of the episode they find a clue/information that they need cas’s help trying to decode. sam suggests praying for cas to show up, and dean says well go ahead then. sam doesn’t make a fuss about dean not doing it himself (though he may be a bit surprised) and he prays to cas - but nothing happens. dean sighs and rolls his eyes, and says “cas, you there? we need some help” and cas appears. 
sam is (sort of) mock offended that cas comes when dean calls and not him, and cas says that he was busy and would have heard sam eventually if he’d tried praying again later, but dean has an easier time breaking through via prayer than sam (ala the “dean and i share a more profound bond” moment in season 5(?i think). like then, sam is mock offended, but isn’t really surprised. dean is keen to move the conversation past this and get cas’s help with the hunt, which cas provides, and cas decides to stick around to help fight the episode’s monster. 
the episode facilitates a scene where cas and sam are left alone on the hunt with some downtime to talk (perhaps because dean is avoiding cas) and sam brings it up, a bit curious - does cas hear dean better because cas pulled him from hell? cas admits he isn’t sure exactly what the reason is - perhaps it also has something to do with the way dean has affected him as a person. he finds that despite himself, he cares for dean more deeply than anyone else - and his feelings remain unchanged by the fact that dean seems to be avoiding him right now. but he finishes by saying he can’t help that his thoughts are more attuned to dean at all times, and that he finds himself thinking of him far too often, which probably leads to dean’s prayers finding him easier than other people’s. 
sam is pretty shocked/surprised at this - it sounds like cas is saying he’s in love with his brother. cas doesn’t confirm this explicitly, but sort of agrees, saying something along the lines of “that is a possibility”, as though he’s not quite sure. 
sam’s still processing this - can angels even fall in love? cas assures him that they can (maybe gives an example of another angel this has happened to) though it doesn’t happen often and has never really ended well. 
the scene ends either a bit awkwardly, with sam still being “oh my god what is going on” and castiel being earnest and sort of oblivious to sam’s shock, or with an attempt at lightheartedness from sam. the episode continues as normal, though sam now gets to hunt with dean and castiel with the new secret knowledge that one of them is in love with the other one and the other one probably doesn’t know. but he doesn’t really know what to do with that information, so he does nothing, just observes. 
episode 13 has no cas in it again, and it’s a sam/dean hunt. but here’s where it gets interesting - the monster is preying on men at a gay bar. 
the hunt they’re on has people going missing who have recently frequented the bar. one of the bartenders there is obviously gay, and flirts with dean a little bit during their initial questioning, even giving him his number at the end, which throws dean. sam sees the end of this interaction and notes it with amusement. 
they continue investigating - clues (or another disappearance) lead back to the gay bar, so they decide they have to check it out again. when there, they spot the same bar-tender again, and sam makes a joking comment that dean will probably get more out of him than sam will, so dean better go talk to him. dean does, and manages to be a bit more casual now he’s not as taken off-guard. dean gets the information out of him that he needs, but the conversation also hits more casual/personal territory - come comments are about what it’s like doing the job dean does, etc. dean might make a cryptic comment that hints about the supernatural nature of their work, not that the bartender would pick up on it, and answers in a way that’s both true to dean’s actual life but could be mistaken as being a thing an fbi agent would say. the bartender is less flirty during this conversation, but when he does make flirty comments, dean takes it much better and continues the conversation easily, and despite himself dean finds himself warming up to this guy. 
the hunt continues. in the early scenes, when sam and dean roll into town, dean will see two guys heavily making out outside the club, and looks away (in a prudish/not wanting to watch someone’s PDA sort of way). later in the episode, either right before the climax or right after, there will be a moment where dean sees another moment of PDA between two guys (possibly more of a sweeter scene, like holding hands, or canoodling), and dean watches for a moment, somewhat longingly. the episode won’t address it, but this is his moment where internally he starts wondering if maybe he wants that. 
the episode heads towards the conclusion when the monster takes another victim - and lo and behold, it’s our bartender. but dean and sam are getting close to finding it, and they hunt it to it’s lair. sam deals with the monster while dean rescues the bartender. it’s a generic rescue scene, and dean is very compassionate and reassuring, and the bartender is quite freaked out, as to be expected. the wrap up scene, where they take him home/back to his car/wherever, has him asking dean about what else is out there, and dean is honest - there are lots of creatures that lurk in the dark. but hopefully the bartender won’t see any more of them. if he does, here’s dean’s card - call him and dean will come. the bartender makes a joke about using it for a booty-call/to get a date with dean, and dean jokes back in a way that rebuffs that, but in a light and friendly manner. 
the series continues. there is one more dean/sam hunt and then a dean/sam/cas hunt. dean seems a little but more at ease with cas during this.
in episode 16, dean gets a call from the bartender. he picks up the phone and makes a joke about how this wasn’t supposed to be used for booty calls - before turning serious at the bartender’s answer. something is going down in that town again, and he wants dean to come check it out. dean promises he’s on his way and hangs up. 
sam is ready to go with dean, but dean tells him he’s going to go on his own. sam is surprised, but lets him. 
dean goes to the bartender’s town and investigates. something is going down, and this time the bar tender helps him along the way. there is an easy chemistry between the two of them, the sort of familiarity characters have when meeting dean and sam for the second or third time rather than the first. the bartender assists in the investigation, so is around dean a lot, and flirts with him on occasion. in contrast the previous episode, dean is much more at ease with it, he even flirts back a little at one point. but it could still all be in good fun - it doesn’t have to imply anything. 
3/4 of the way through the episode, before they go after and kill the monster, there is a slow/waiting/resting scene where dean and the bartender have the opportunity to just chat. they talk about the monster/hunting/the lifestyle a wee bit - and dean shows him something about the monster on the laptop, or in a book, or gives him a weapon and shows him how to use it - whatever it is, they get physically close for some reason. the bartender makes another flirtatious comment, and dean isn’t too sure how to respond this time. the bartender shrugs it off - it’s just some fun, he knows dean’s straight, it’s fine. 
dean’s mind is racing a hundred miles a minute, and he’s feeling an absolute cascade of emotions. maybe, he croaks out, maybe he isn’t as straight as you might think.
it’s pretty clear where this is going lol. they have a moment, they kiss, idk maybe they have sex, maybe it’s implied or left ambiguous. camera cuts away. 
when we come back to them, the plot has accelerated and it’s time to go after the monster (immediately, right now, before anyone can talk about what just happened). they hunt the monster, dean does the bulk of the work but there’s a crucial moment where bartender saves dean, mirroring the way dean saved him in his first appearance and allowing dean to finish the monster off. 
the wrap up/goodbye scene is a bit awkward, both not too sure where they stand, but there is a moment where dean admits that he liked what happened between them. but it’s pretty obvious it can’t continue - dean has to keep hunting, and the bartender is not here for that life - he likes all his limbs attached. they keep the door open though about seeing each other in future - maybe a comment about where dean’s based, and the bartender says he’s heading through that way in a month or so, maybe he can pop in and say hi, and dean agrees. 
dean goes back to the bunker, reconnects with sam who’s wrapped up his b-plot. dean is deliberately vague about the case details, and sam gets the feeling something’s off. then dean gets a call, and he takes it - but he’s squirrelly about it. 
sam’s suspicious and is worried something is really wrong. he follows dean and listens to his call - he hears dean say “hey [bartender]”, and the conversation that follows, which basically boils down to - the bartender is actually going to be in dean’s area next week instead, it turns out, maybe they could catch up, and dean says sure, but his brother is around, and dean hasn’t exactly told him about what happened or come out to him, so they have to be a bit on the downlow. he doesn’t want to seem sleazy, but maybe they could get a hotel room? cut to sam, looking pretty surprised lmao and sort of creeping away quietly, feeling bad for eavesdropping on such a personal conversation and now processing the fact that his brother is (he thinks) gay. 
ep 17 is a week later and  dean and sam are called to a case miles away - right when the bartender is supposed to visit. dean takes a private call where he regretfully tells the bartender he’s not going to be around - they won’t be able to catch up this time. this secretive behaviour reminds sam (and the audience) of dean’s secret. 
sam sort of spends the whole episode waiting for dean to come out to him, which doesn’t happen because this is still really new to dean and he’s not sure he’s ready for it. it’d be kinda fun/funny if they were fucking around with some sort of truth goddess or something, but regardless there’ll be opportunities for sam to poke dean about general things he might not be saying. sam also drops a couple of massive hints that he thinks gay people are awesome which dean obliviously ignores (or maybe starts cluing into towards the end of the episode). 
but by the time they’ve defeated whatever it is they’re hunting, dean still hasn’t said anything about being gay so while they’re in the impala diving home, sam’s like “you know, if you were gay, i’d be okay with it” and dean’s like “yeah i’m not gay” and sams like “I heard you on the phone with bartender, sounded pretty gay” and dean’s like “okay yeah we banged. but i’m not gay, i’m bi” and sams like “woah. and you never said anything?” and dean talks about how it’s sort of been coming on for a while now but he’s been trying to ignore it because he didn’t think he was that person, or maybe how there was something with a guy a long time ago but he repressed it, etc etc. and sams like “well that’s cool and you’re still my big brother, i still love you, that’s never going to change” yada yada and there’s an awesome emotional scene and they drive off into the sunset. 
BUT we still have the cas/dean plotline to wrap up in the last few episodes. sam know knows cas loves dean and dean’s bi but doesn’t know if dean loves cas and also doesn’t want to say anything in case he shouldn’t. but also wonders whether he should because it seems like dean might have feelings for cas, so as we head towards the final episodes sam keeps trying to push cas and dean into situations alone together but it’s not working very well, although they’re obviously really fucking close and sam can see just how much dean loves cas and cas loves dean but neither of them can actually see it, and eventually (like, one episode from the finale) cas says something implying quite obviously that he has feelings for dean and then leaves and dean’s totally oblivious and sam is practically banging his head against a brick wall out of frustration and just caves and is like “you know cas is in love with you, right?” and deans like “no” and sam is like “well he is. he told me” and dean’s like “whaaaaat” 
but there’s no time for dean to like, talk to cas about this, only a small amount of time where he processes his feelings for him (maybe like one scene together a but a third character is there the whole time, so dean can think about what sam told him, but can’t say anything to cas) and then the finale is really kicking off, and they’re fighting whatever the big bad is, and again there’s comes this point where someone has to sacrifice themselves and this time dean’s like “no cas i told you earlier, i don’t want you sacrificing yourself, this time it’s my turn” and cas is says “no let me, i want to do this” and dean’s like “yeah but i don’t want you to because i love you” and does the thing that should kill him
except at the last minute something else happens which stops that (sam like kills the big bad by taking it by surprise or something) and so dean doesn’t die (maybe he’s a bit injured though and cas has to heal him) and cas goes to him and there’s a very emotional scene where they elaborate on the love confession and kiss each other and sam’s like “i can’t believe a month ago i thought these men were straight”. 
and because this is supernatural something immediately goes wrong and by killing this big bad they’ve actually triggered the rising of the next big bad so there’s your plot for the next season you’re welcome, but hey now they’re gay together you’re welcome SPN writers please pay me to reboot your series in the way dean deserved. 
27 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
🎊 Happy New Year @actualsoyboy 🎉
Kiss Me Under the Light of a Thousand Stars
Sam ran a hand through his hair, drawing a glare from Dean.  “You’re either going to go bald or get a cramp, and neither of those are good looks for a first date.  Stop fussing.  You can do this.”
“Can I?” Sam winced at how much he sounded like a teenager again.  In all fairness, that’s how old he was the last time he went on a first date, so maybe it made sense.  He was about to leave to go on his first first date in almost a decade and a half. Dean had been so exasperated by Sam refusing to get back on that horse after losing Jess twelve years earlier, but Sam had been busy.  He finally got talked into one, not because he felt he was missing anything, but because of who Dean was suggesting he date.
Castiel Ryder was one of Dean’s closest friends from the garage.  When Dean found out that Castiel was both single and interested in men, he started talking up Sam – although he’d neglected to mention the part where Sam was his brother, so when he first introduced the two, Castiel commented that it was nice to finally meet Dean’s boyfriend.  After an extremely awkward moment of correction and explanation, Castiel apologized and immediately asked Sam on a date.
Dean handed Sam the keys to the Impala.  “You can.  Just remember: I find one scratch on her, or one sniff of something out of place, I’m taking it out of your ass.  Got it?”
“Dude. I’m not planning on getting laid tonight.”  If it happened, that was one thing, but Sam was perfectly happy to take this slow. With Castiel having a kid, it seemed more important to do this right than to do this fast.  He dropped the keys into his pocket and started out.
Dean followed him.  “Don’t be an idiot.  Have fun. Be good to Castiel.  He needs this even more than you do, and that’s saying something.”
When Sam pulled up in front of Castiel’s house, a bad feeling took over.  There was nothing obviously wrong, but he just couldn’t shake the sense that something had gone sideways on them.  He should have known something would go wrong, but he was looking forward to this too much to listen to that little voice in the back of his head.
Castiel answered the door just before Sam could knock, dressed for their date but with his tie askew and hair wild.  “Sam. I was just about to call you.  We need to talk about tonight.”
“If you need to cancel, I understand,” Sam said, trying to hide the disappointment. After all, chances were this wasn’t Castiel’s preference either.
“I would prefer not to, but that will depend on you.”  Castiel glanced over his shoulder.  “My niece was supposed to look after my son tonight, but she just called to tell me that she injured her shoulder at basketball practice and won’t be home from the hospital for at least another hour, and is supposed to rest afterward.  I hadn’t planned on introducing you to Jack tonight, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather do that and hang out here than cancel entirely.  I’ve been looking forward to this too much.”
That wasn’t going to be a problem at all for Sam.  After all, from what Dean had said, even if dating didn’t work out for them they were likely to end up good friends, so it’s not like he was just going to disappear from Jack’s life.  “Me too. If you don’t have a problem with introducing me to your son now, I’d love to do that.  I hope your niece will be okay.”
“Claire will be fine.  She said she thought it was a broken collarbone.  Unfortunate and painful, but she’ll recover fully, and she’s tough.” Castiel stepped aside, letting Sam in. “The other thing… this is a little embarrassing to admit, but I am a terrible cook.  Claire was supposed to bring dinner with her when she came.  I’m going to need to go pick it up from my brother Jimmy.  Hopefully it won’t take long, but either we’ll have to get Jack into the car or you’ll have to babysit.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up.  “You only just met me, and you’re willing to leave your son with me?”
“Many people leave their child with babysitters they’ve only just met recently. I may not have known you long, but I’ve known Dean for quite some time now, and he would never have encouraged this if you weren’t trustworthy.”  Fair enough, Sam had to agree.  He followed Castiel as he led the way through the house.  Castiel paused outside the playroom, speaking softly.  “Jack is a very self-sufficient child, and as long as I explain to him why I’m going and why you’re here, he can entertain himself for the time I’ll be gone without giving you trouble.  Feel free to borrow a book or get on the computer.”  That would make this even easier.  Sam smiled as Castiel walked in and crouched beside his son.  “Jack?”
“Father!” Jack dropped his Luke action figure and held out his arms for a hug.  “Is Claire here yet?”
“Claire won’t be here,” Castiel said gently as he gave Jack the hug.  “She got hurt.  She’ll be okay, but you might make her a card for tomorrow.”
Jack’s face crumpled, but he nodded and headed for a low table with boxes of art supplies and several stacks of paper.  “Okay!  I can do that.”
“Good boy, but first, I’d like you to meet someone.”  Jack paused in the act of kneeling at the table.  “This is Sam Winchester.  You’ve heard me talk about my friend Dean.  This is his brother.”  He looked up.  “Is it okay if he calls you Sam?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“This is Sam.  He’s my friend, and he’ll be right here with you while I go get dinner.  Okay?”
Jack looked at Sam, head tilted in a perfect imitation of Castiel’s considering look.  It made Sam grin.  “Okay!”
“Good boy.” Castiel got to his feet and turned to Sam.  “It shouldn’t be more than half an hour.  If you need something, feel free to call.  And thank you.”  He took off, leaving Sam and Jack looking at each other.
Jack picked up a piece of blank white paper, carefully folding it in half.  Then he held it out to Sam.  “Can you please cut this for me?  Father won’t let me use the good scissors, and my scissors don’t cut neatly.”
“Uh, sure.” Sam took the paper and the scissors Jack handed him, doing his best to cut the paper evenly.  He handed the two halves back to Jack, who reached for the box of markers.  On one of the half-papers, he carefully wrote “GET WELL S” and then paused.  “How do you spell soon?  Is it like cartoon or like a music tune?”
“It’s like cartoon.”  Jack added the “OON” and started drawing multicolor hearts around it.  Then he set that paper aside and picked up the other one, drawing a yellow-haired girl in a blue and yellow basketball uniform. “This is my cousin Claire.  She’s really good at basketball.  I want to be as good as her when I’m old like her.”
Sam bit his lip, trying hard not to laugh.  If Claire was old, what did that make him and Castiel?  He wouldn’t say that to a little kid, though, their scales for time were way off.  “Do you play any sports yet?”
“Father says soccer next spring.  That’s a long way away though.  For now I just run around the back yard.”  Jack reached for the orange marker and started drawing a basketball. “Soccer balls are hard to draw though.”
“Yeah, they are.”
Jack looked up from his picture.  “If you want to draw something, you can use my stuff.  It’s fun!”
Sam raised an eyebrow.  He hadn’t really wanted to draw anything, but somehow, he didn’t feel like he could turn down such a sweet offer.  He picked up a piece of paper and a box of crayons.  He hadn’t done this since he was very young.  Hopefully, Jack wouldn’t judge him for his horrible art skills.  He decided to draw Dean and the Impala.
Meanwhile, Jack had picked up a piece of blue construction paper and carefully folded it in half.  Sam was half reaching for the scissors when Jack meticulously centered the get well soon paper on the front of the card.  He picked up a pencil and traced the outline, and then picked up a gluestick. “Is that Dean?  Father’s friend?”
“Yes, it is.  How did you know?”  Sam set down the green crayon and watched as Jack lined the paper up inside the outline and pressed it down, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.
“You’re drawing him the way Father draws Uncle Jimmy.  Father said you were Dean’s brother.  It made sense.”  Jack picked up the yellow marker and carefully wrote his name in the bottom of the other picture.
Sam frowned a little.  “Your K is backwards, Jack.”
“No it’s not.”  Jack opened the blue card and started centering it.  “Well, it is, but it’s on purpose.  That’s what makes it my name instead of some other Jack.”
Okay, that was just too darned cute.  Sam grinned and got back to work on the Impala.
They were still coloring when Castiel returned.  At the “awwww”, both Sam and Jack looked up.  Jack got to his feet and ran over to him.  “Father!  You’re back!”
“I am.” Castiel crouched to hug Jack.  “Go wash your hands and then we’ll have dinner, okay?”
“Okay!” Jack took one step toward the door and then stopped and turned back.  “Can Sam be my new dad?”
“Hmm?” Castiel stared at Sam, eyebrows drawn together.  “Why do you say that?”
Sam held up his hands, dying of embarrassment even though he hadn’t done anything to bring this on.  He loved the idea, but he did not want Castiel thinking he was trying to use Jack to pressure him into moving faster than he was ready for.  That was the worst way to start this.  “I didn’t say anything, I promise.”
Jack shook his head.  “I heard Uncle Jimmy tell you that kids need two parents.  He was trying to get you to date.  I like Sam.  I think he’d be a good dad.”
“Perhaps, then,” Castiel said.  “It won’t be any time soon, but if you and he are both interested then perhaps one day. I agree that he would be a good dad.”
Jack accepted that, running off to wash his hands.  Sam got to his feet.  “I really didn’t say anything.”
“I believe you.  He explained where the idea came from – Jimmy.  Shortly before Dean introduced us, Jimmy was teasing me about my crush on my best friend’s boyfriend.”  Castiel reddened slightly.  “Once again, I’m sorry about the misconception, but if you’d heard how he was talking about you I’m sure you’d understand.”
“Oh, trust me, we get that a lot when we forget to mention the brother part first,” Sam agreed.  As long as the people were good about it when they found out, Sam never minded… although he was very careful to mention something about Dean being his brother at least by the second time he caught himself gushing about him to the same person. “For what it’s worth, it sounds awesome, Jack’s a great kid.”
“He is.” Castiel turned away.  “We should go.  We don’t want to keep Jack waiting for his supper – he becomes much less of a good kid when he’s hungry.”
Dinner was delicious and surprisingly vegetable-filled, which didn’t seem to bother Jack one bit as he devoured his broccoli and cauliflower before he even started on his mashed potatoes.  Castiel noticed Sam’s surprise and winked.  “If he doesn’t eat his vegetables, he doesn’t get dessert. Between that and me genuinely loving most vegetables, he’s turning out to resemble me that way.”
“That’s a good thing, really.  For me, it was rebellion in my teens against the way Dad fed us.”  The broccoli and cauliflower were delicious – whoever had cooked them was very good at it.  “Dean’s a bit of a twit about it, though.  You may have noticed.”
“I certainly have.  If it’s not pie, he won’t even eat fruit, he says.”
“How can you not eat fruit?  Fruit is yummy!” Jack interrupted.
“Fruit is yummy, but we didn’t get much of it when we were kids,” Sam explained. “Vegetables, either.  We ate a lot of hamburgers and tacos and potatoes.”
“Boring.” Jack picked up his chicken strip and dunked it in ketchup.  Sam had to smile.  He was a kid.
After dinner, Jack headed upstairs.  Castiel signaled for Sam to stay with him.  “I don’t want to leave the house, but he’ll happily play on his own until bedtime.  We can enjoy some date time.”  He glanced over at the TV.  “Usually, I watch a nature documentary, but we can play a board game or watch whatever sports are on or whatever other ideas you might have.”
“Nature documentary’s good.  I know this isn’t what we’d planned, but I’m really having a good time tonight.”  Sam followed Castiel to the couch, where he turned on the TV and found a show about investigating the Amazon rainforest. They sat and cuddled and listened to the narrator talk about birds.
At eight, Jack came downstairs.  “Father? I’m ready for bed.”
“Of course.”  Castiel got to his feet and handed Sam the remote.  “Excuse me for a bit, it’s time for Jack’s story.”
“Can he come too?” Jack asked.
Castiel looked to Sam, who just shrugged.  He didn’t want to intrude on bedtime rituals and give Jack false hope of him being New Dad sooner rather than later, but he would certainly defer to Castiel when it came to Jack.  Castiel nodded, so Sam put the remote on the end table and got to his feet to follow them.
He stood in the doorway as Castiel tucked Jack into bed.  “What would you like to hear, Jack?”
“Fairy tale!  Dragons! Magic!”  Castiel went to Jack’s bookshelf and chose a book, settling in to tell Jack the story of a knight who rescued an innocent maiden from a dragon. Jack pouted at the end.  “How come dragons are always bad?  Aren’t there any good dragons?”
“There are. Nothing is inherently good or bad, and it’s good to question when they’re portrayed that way.  Tomorrow night, I’ll tell you a story about a good dragon, okay?”  Jack nodded and curled up under the blankets.  Castiel kissed his forehead.  “Good night, Jack.”
“Night, Dad.”  He uncurled and looked over to Sam.  “Good night, Sam.”
“Good night.”  Jack curled back up, squeezing his eyes closed.
Castiel turned out the lights as he left the room, heading back downstairs.  “So he eats his vegetables, keeps himself entertained, and doesn’t fight bedtime.  Are you sure he’s a real boy?”
“You haven’t seen him in the mornings.  He is incredibly grumpy when he gets out of bed.  He was a nightmare to potty train, and still has accidents overnight sometimes. He would watch TV all day if I let him. He’s a real boy.”  Castiel glanced back up the stairs fondly.  “I wouldn’t trade him for the mythological perfect child ever.”
“Good.” Sam headed back to the couch, and Castiel settled in beside him.  They finished watching the birds, and then Castiel shut off the TV.  Sam grinned.  “Setting a good example for Jack by not watching too much TV yourself?”
“Exactly.” Castiel got to his feet.  “What would you like to do now?”
Sam decided not to say the first thing that popped into his head, which was that he wanted to go upstairs.  “I know you don’t want to go far, but is the back yard too far?  Go look at the stars?”
“Not at all, but let me check on Jack first.”  Castiel headed upstairs, and came back quickly.  “He’s asleep and unlikely to wake up unless he has a nightmare, an accident, or both.  Let’s go.”
Castiel had a swing on the back porch, which had a decent view of the sky.  He and Sam sat on it, and Castiel cuddled up against Sam as he pointed out constellations and the planets that were visible.  When Jupiter rose, Castiel startled a little.  “It’s gotten later than I realized.  I know this wasn’t what we’d planned on doing, but I had an unexpectedly good time tonight.”
“Me too. We should definitely have a second date soon.”  Was tomorrow too soon?  He could hear Dean saying no, but that only made him more hesitant.
“We should… would you be terribly disappointed if I didn’t ask you to spend the night?  I want to, but I’m a bit worried about Jack misinterpreting.”
Sam shook his head.  “Not a bit. If you asked I’d be happy to spend the night, but I’m all for taking things slowly and sensibly.”  He reached up to cup Castiel’s face in his hands.  “That said, I really want to kiss you right now. May I?”
“Please do, you’ll save me the trouble of needing to kiss you.”  Sam bent down, pressing his lips to Castiel’s with a smile. The kiss was great, and Sam was thoroughly happy with where they were leaving things when he pulled back. “Thank you for not cancelling, and for being such a good sport about Jack.  I hope that it won’t be too long before I can say yes to you being Jack’s new dad.”
11 notes · View notes
deepeststarfishsong · 4 years
Text
Gentleman
Quarantine has my days all out of whack, so we're starting on week two!
Written for @helianthus21, @pray4jensen​, & @bend-me-shape-me‘s #SPNStayAtHomeChallenge 13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman.
Cross posted to Ao3. 
Thanks to @beccawoof, my love, for the beta and for having casual expertise in SNP canon compliance.  
Nothing about today was especially unique. They had, for all intents and purposes, wrapped up a typical job without any momentous happenings. They were hunting a wendigo just outside the Wheeler County line but they’d been able to stick to the game plan more or less and no one had been seriously injured. Dean appreciated jobs like these. They could mark one in the win column and skip town without any additional feelings of guilt; no one died on their watch and they walked away without additional scars.
Bartlett, Nebraska had been a good four hour drive each way but the warm August evenings and the rolling green farmland made for excellent driving. Dean had rolled his window down and settled into the seat, enjoying the easy pace and casual way Sam turned in the seat to discuss the case with Cas. An hour into the drive back to Sioux Falls, Dean flipped on his indicators and pulled off the 281 to fuel up the Impala and load up on coffee.
While Dean fussed with the premium handle, arguing with the machine and its failures to read his card, Cas and Sam wandered into the station still deep in conversation about the authenticity of internet accounts of wendigo psychosis. Nerds.
As he hung up the pump handle, Sam returned to the car, coffee in hand. “Dude, where’s mine?” Dean huffed.
“This is yours,” Sam smirked at him, handing him the polystyrene cup with ‘Thanks a Latte’ printed repeatedly in awful Old English type. “I’m going to make an attempt at sleep.” Sam gestured towards the backseat.
Dean thanked him by way of a nod, and slid back behind the wheel. “If you start drooling on my seats, I can’t be held responsible for punching you,” Dean teased. Sam grunted from the backseat, shedding his flannel and scrunching it up into some semblance of a pillow.
Dean looked up as Cas opened the passenger door. “Unless I am mistaken, this violates Rule Three, Subsection Three of the ‘Official Rules for Shotgun,’’ Cas mused as he got in. Dean had to laugh. They’d drilled Cas on the rules of shotgun for fifty miles on the trip out and damned if he didn’t remember each of them.
“Yeah, prolly, but the giraffe clause can be superseded by the long haul exemption,” Sam chimed in from the backseat.
“Yes, I can understand why,” Cas replied, more to his coffee than to either Dean or Sam.
After they pulled back out onto the highway, Dean stretched in place, settling into comfortable highway driving, and leaned on the gas enough to hear Baby rev ever so slightly. “Hey Cas, want to pick a tape so we can tune out Sleeping Beauty’s snoring?” Dean’s smile reached his eyes when he looked over and caught Cas’ gaze.
Nodding, Cas opened the glove box and began sorting through cassettes. Dean enjoyed the careful, methodical way that Cas went about mundane tasks; he picked up each tape delicately, holding it aloft to catch the handwritten title in the light of passing cars, returning it to a neat stack when he wasn’t satisfied with his option. It was a reminder of Cas’ ethereal origins, different somehow from the hurried, clumsy way Dean typically did things like this.
“This will do,” Cas said as he ejected Led Zeppelin II and replaced it with one of Dean’s old mix tapes.
Nothing about this day was out of the ordinary. It hadn’t been particularly mundane or chaotic or exciting, but Dean could feel a sense of nostalgia washing over him. It was often the little, seemingly inconsequential moments like these that became his most cherished memories. Sam was asleep in the backseat, the soft sounds of his breathing a reassuring presence. Cas was staring out the window at the ever-darkening horizon of green patchwork farmland, nodding along to Rush’s ‘Spirit of Radio.’ They were heading home whole and successful after a job.
And it was in that moment that Dean realized he was in love.
The words coursed through him, sending tingles through his limbs and his heart galloping around his chest. Love.
Dean didn’t often feel at peace; his life had made sure of that. The memories of Hell, of Purgatory, of the shit they’d seen and ganked chief among them were enough to keep even a jaded hardass like him awake at night. And then there had been the other stuff: Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Pam, even Benny. And so, Dean relished in the rare occasion that he felt at ease.
Dean flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, loosening the joints and jumpstarting the blood flow. A few months back, he’d been staking out a vamp nest for what seemed like forever. While he waited impatiently, he’d remembered that he’d lifted a few books from the Sonoma County Library. He’d pulled one from under the seat at random, more intent to have something to fiddle with than read, but he’d gotten sucked into ‘Invisible Monsters’ pretty quick. Even once he was back at the motel, he’d ended up staying awake until daylight reading. One line had stuck with him. “The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.” That sentiment struck a chord in the ever-present background noise of his self-loathing and he found himself reiterating it in his head from time to time.
In the privacy of his own thoughts, Dean had often wondered how this electric charge between him and Cas would resolve itself. Cas was his best friend, someone who he needed and trusted, and Dean had never been in a mindset to risk losing that for a ‘what if.’ All of the pieces that came with these feelings were messy. He’d practiced bits of these talks to himself. ‘Would you stay?’ ‘I’m bisexual, I guess.’ ‘Please don’t leave.’ ‘I need you.’ ‘Would it be okay if I loved you?’ Not that he’d had the nerve to risk saying them outloud.
And yet, there were these moments that fed the butterflies Dean was doomed to carry in his ribcage. They’d always shared knowing glances, it was fifty percent of their communication. They had always been tuned to one another in a fight, on a hunt. Dean had never been certain if it was just their ‘profound bond’ forged in Hell and acuminated in Purgatory or something more. Usually, he would diffuse the tension with inappropriate humor. It was always easier to say things half in jest, all in seriousness.
Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was still enthralled with the passing countryside. Before he could look away, Cas turned and caught his eye, a warm look of contentment written all over his face. Dean didn’t miss the whisper of a sigh or the careful uptick of Cas’ mouth when he smiled. Love.
When Dean reached over with his right hand, setting it firmly on Cas’ thigh just above his knee, he wasn’t plagued with indecision. He wasn’t cycling though self-loathing worst-case-scenarios. It just seemed like the right time. There was something simple about this moment, this day, that gave him confidence.
Cas let out a contented sigh, and overlaid Dean’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. Dean gave him a little reassuring squeeze and Cas scooted a little closer to him on the bench seat, getting comfortable. It doesn’t have to be hard.
With his free hand, Cas fussed with the stereo, skipping the songs he clearly knew were next. Satisfied, Cas leaned back into the seat, ran his hand up the length of Dean’s arm a few times, then settled back into holding his hand against his leg while the Impala’s aging speakers played Bon Jovi and Cas hummed along. Wo-ah, we're halfway there, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer, Take my hand, we'll make it I swear, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer.
At a rundown Flying J at the edge of Sioux Falls, Dean circled the Impala to hang up the pump when Cas walked up behind him, arms laiden with water bottles and cans of Red Bull. Dean sidestepped to open the passenger door for Cas who rewarded him with a blushing smile.
“You’re lucky to have such a gentleman,” mused an elderly woman at the next pump, giving Cas a huge grin.
“Thank you,” Cas returned her smile. “Yes, I agree. I am quite fortunate.”
From the backseat, Dean could see Sam barely suppressing an overjoyed smile. Smug bastard. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he murmured.
Sam gave up his self control, laughing audibly and gave Dean an encouraging smile. “You deserve this,” he said simply.
102 notes · View notes
thecleverdame · 4 years
Text
Gods of Twilight - 12
Tumblr media
Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader
Master List (posting schedule is there as well)
Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.
Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking
Beta:  @ilikaicalie​
*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE
-
You lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling and listen to Sam sleeping deeply beside you. Twenty minutes later Golda slips quietly into the room with a steaming mug in her hands. She pads silently towards you, her face marked with concern.
“Your tea.” She sets the cup on the side table as you pull the blanket up to cover your breasts. She pauses, clearly wanting to say more. She hesitates for a moment longer and then whispers, “Are you hurt?”
Her eyes dart to Sam, fearful of what he’s capable of. What she’s really asking is did he hurt you?
“I am only sore, not injured” you speak softly sipping the drink. “You can go.”
There’s a thought flickering to life. Sam’s secret is more real than ever before and you’re afraid she’s going to magically see the details written on your face. She knows you too well. It’s a recipe for disaster.
“Are you sure?” She presses.
“I am fine, thank you for your concern.”
She leaves and you drink the tea as quickly as you can, eager for the pain relief. Sam is sleeping soundly, belly down on the bed now that you’ve managed to pry yourself from underneath him. He looks almost boyish, a softness to his features as he breathes deep and steady, mouth partly open.
After relieving yourself you crawl back into bed, listening to the sound of his breath until slumber takes you.
-
It’s the wet heat of his tongue on your neck that pulls you from sleep the second time. Your eyes flutter open with a gasp as your husband’s mouth seals over your pulse point, sucking hard enough that he’ll surely leave a mark.
“Good morning,” he mumbles, tongue sliding over skin before nipping at the bruise.
“Good morning,” you whisper as he wakes up your body with his lips and hands. His knee is between your thighs, the warmth of his skin and coarse hair rubbing against your legs.
“I couldn’t sleep any longer.” This is no surprise as you feel his cock rock hard and rutting against your hip.
“Sam-” you protest as his mouth swoops down, closing over your breast. At the same time, his hand finds its way between your legs, thumb pressing lightly over your bud. “I cannot take you again, not this morning. I need time to recover-”
“I know,” he grunts against your breast, licking around a hard nipple. “But I want to touch you, to taste you.”
“I’m not sure I’m in a state to…” Your thoughts disappear as he slides down your body, spreading your thighs slowly. You’re stiff and there’s immediate pain in your joints as he wedges his shoulders between your thighs to hold you open for him. “Gentle, please. You left me tender.”
“Sorry,” he kisses the inside of your thigh with a peck of his mouth.  “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
And with that, his head sinks between your legs, tongue lapping between your folds as he presses into your wet flesh.
There’s a duality of sensations. You ache, your cunt is beyond raw, hips screaming in protest. But on the other side, his tongue is wonderful and warm, slowly dipping into your sex and then moving up to find your clit with easy strokes.
“Oh God,” you moan, neck snapping back as your thighs close around his head, rocking from side to side. You fist both hands in his hair, tugging gently. He seems to like this, grunting against your cunt in approval. He takes a deep breath, diving back in as if he’s starving and you’re his last meal, his mouth making truly obscene sounds as he has his way with you.
His tongue flicks up and down, again and again, making you wish you had him inside you. While you know it would only hurt there’s still the desire to be filled, to have something to bear down on.
When you cum it hurts, not like the night before but your internal muscles pulse and repeat, squeezing around nothing. It’s pleasure and pain together as you cry out and his tongue pushes inside to feel you throb with the release.
You’re still twitching as he lunges up for a kiss and you taste yourself on his tongue. There’s a gentle sound of skin on skin and you’re vaguely aware of him stroking himself before he spurts over your stomach, holding his cock in his hand.
He falls to your side, half chucking face down into the pillow, as you lie there panting with satisfaction. It seems last night truly has changed things. He turns his head to the side, grinning at you.
“I could wake up like that every morning.” He reaches out, sliding a hand over your messy stomach.
“I-” you start, stopping to blush, sealing your lips together. Your belly is still fluttering with pleasure as you watch him gaze at you.
“Look at you.” He lifts himself up, propping himself on an elbow. “Modest despite everything that’s happened.” He seems pleased. The rough hand on your stomach slides up, fingers fanning out over your ribcage. “You’re beautiful when you’re bashful.”
“Stop,” you whisper, eyes finding his as a smile tugs at your mouth.
“No,” he playfully whispers back, leaning down to kiss your lips. “I don't think I shall.”
You don’t have a response for that, instead you stare down at his hand on your belly trying to imagine what comes after his. You’re at a loss as to how you move forward. You’ve been so focused on making a connection with him, you’re utterly unsure of how to proceed now that you have.
“I must admit my mind is reeling,” you confess, meeting his stare. “Last night was...unexpected.”
“Yes, it was.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles, the scruff of his beard scratching at delicate skin. “We are an odd pairing. Does that bother you?”
“No.” With a soft sigh, you reach up to touch his cheek delicately with your fingertips. “I’ve never been much for convention. I suppose it’s the irony of fate. I spent my life dreading the idea of being married off to an ancient, conventional man and instead I have you. A man who couldn’t be more different in the most unexpected of ways.”
“I am still getting to know you, but I have a suspicion that you are as adventurous as you are beautiful.”
“You must stop that,” you hiss, always uncomfortable with compliments.
“Do you not think you’re attractive or are you uncomfortable with it?”
“A bit of both I suppose,” you shift, rolling onto your side as his hand falls over your waist, the pads of his fingers playing at your spine. “That’s not to say I’m ungrateful of your affection. I’m lucky to have a husband as handsome and kind as you. I want you to want me, I just-”
“There’s no need to explain yourself,” he smiles, leaning in to give you one more sweet kiss before rolling onto his back. Running a hand over his face he grunts, slapping his cheeks with both hands. “I have to get up. Dean and I are riding out into the farmlands today.”
“Is there cause for concern?” you ask.
“No.” His words are clear but there's something in his voice that makes you think perhaps he’s not being completely honest with you. “Nothing to worry about. I may be gone overnight, but we’ll do our best to return before the sun goes down.”
“Good,” you confirm, staring at your husband with an entirely new appreciation. “Everything feels so different now. I don’t much like the idea of being alone in the night.”
Sam sits up, taking a breath before turning back and swooping down for one last kiss. “Be careful without me here,” he murmurs against your mouth.
“I can’t get into too much trouble locked up in the castle.” You watch him get up, his buttocks flexing as he searches for his trousers.
“Still...” He hikes up his pants. “Stay close to Philip, he’ll look after you.”
“I will,” you confirm as he pulls his shirt over his head and disappears out the door.
One Month Later
“Are you nervous?” Sam asks gently, standing behind you as you inspect your reflection in the tall mirror.
“Yes,” you nod, smoothing your dress with shaky hands. “I couldn’t tell you why exactly.”
“Your worlds are colliding. Your parents and Luther and his advisors…”
“And your brother,” you add fussing at your hair. You’re normally not a vain person but focusing on the inconsequential details helps to calm your nerves. “No one has ever held contempt for me the way Dean does.”
“He’s none of your concern,” he dismisses the observation. He already knows it to be true, but worrying about Dean’s opinion will get you nowhere. “You look radiant.”
“You think?” You watch as he dips behind you, lowering his head as you stare at each other in the mirror. “I do not feel at my best tonight.”
“No one would know by looking.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head before standing to his full height behind you.
There’s no denying the two of you make a pretty pair. Over the last few weeks, you’ve grown to know each other, developing a true friendship and a romantic relationship that’s still in its infancy. Your marriage is a work in progress but far and away more honest and real than before.
“Come.” He offers his arm as you take a final look in the mirror.
A full garrison of knights trail behind you. This is as much a display of dominance as it is a social event. Despite growing anxiety, you're excited to see your father. It’s been a year since you last saw him and you’ve been looking forward to his visit for some time.
“Must we be forced to suffer through another dinner with Luther?” you sigh, walking fast beside your husband.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he grunts, no more pleased than you are. “I hope that he’s changed his attitude over time. His men are still poaching from our lands and something needs to be done. This is my final attempt at niceties.”
When you round the corner into the Great Hall there’s a flourish of activity. You didn’t realize there would be so many guests. But, between your father’s entourage and Luther, there are three Kings in the room and all the fanfare that one would expect. The music comes to a halt, every guard in the room snapping to attention.
All the guests focus on Sam and it’s Dean who breaks the silence, bowing playfully. “Brother.”
Sam shifts beside you, unamused as every non-royal in the room bends a knee. The moment you see your father you pull away from your husband. Sam lets you go and you scamper across the room to him.
“Papa!” You can’t help the giant smile painted across your face as he opens his arms and embraces you with an all too familiar embrace. He squeezes too hard, he always has. Even when you were a girl he would hold you unbearably tight until you couldn’t breathe, as if he was trying to convey his love through a single moment.  
“How are you sweet daughter?” He pulls back, gripping your arms. His eyes search your face, glancing up to ensure Sam is still otherwise occupied. “You haven't written in so long, I was worried about you.”
“I didn’t mean to be cause for concern,” you nod, grabbing his wrist and giving it a reassuring pat. “I’m fine, I promise.”
“You see,” your mother speaks up, tilting her head and smirking. “I told you.”
Your father clears his throat in displeasure and you feel a hand curl around your waist, a hand you’re becoming rather familiar with. Your cheeks still flush pink every time Sam touches you, the thrill of this relationship makes you feel like a mindless child overjoyed with her first love.
“I’m very glad you were able to join us, Alexander,” Sam nods and your father reacts in kind. “You’re more than welcome to visit your daughter whenever you like.”
“How gracious,” your mother inserts herself into the conversation. She is drawn to men with power and like a moth to a flame, she’s attempting to align herself with your husband. “I only hope we are worthy guests.”
“Don’t be ridiculous mother.” You hold your head high, eyes narrowing. “We are all family after all.”
“Yes, we are.” Sam looks down at you, then over to Luther who’s laughing to himself, surrounded by a league of his consorts. “Forgive me, I need to greet my other guests and I’m afraid I require your daughter.”
“Of course,” your father chuckles, winking as you walk away.
“He loves you,” Sam leans down and speaks at your ear. “You can tell just by the way he looks at you.”
“And I love him. He was always good to me,” you confess, moving a bit closer to him as you approach King Luther.
What happened in the woods a few months earlier still has you on edge. You find it hard to relax in the company of strangers and this is the truest test of your fortitude.
“Samuel!” Luther throws his hands up as if they’re old friends. You wonder if he’s drunk or just enjoys making a spectacle of himself.
“Luther,” Sam nods, reaching to shake his hand. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“Of course,” he pats his round belly. “I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you and your lovely wife, now could I.”
Sam stiffens and you take that as your cue. “Well, we are grateful to have you as our guest. And this is your wife?”
Katherine is a sour-faced woman who looks as if she’s just eaten something that doesn’t agree with her. She looks you up and down, then turns to Sam.
“It’s our pleasure to venture into Lebanon. What a charming little kingdom you have here.” She forces a dreadful smile and Sam finds his composure.
“The pleasure is all ours,” he quips, already guiding you away from them. “Excuse us.”
“He’s trying to get a reaction out of you,” you whisper, looking up at your husband. “You can’t make it that easy for him.”
“I know.”
When the two of you are alone together Sam is often playful, easy to smile and laugh with on many occasions. But the majority of the time, when he’s dealing with his numerous responsibilities, he’s deathly serious.
It’s that stone-cold demeanor that you’re still learning to navigate.
“He’s a horse's ass.” Dean is suddenly in front of you with two glasses of wine in hand. He leans around Sam to get a good look at Luther. “We should just kill him in his sleep.”
“Dean!” Sam hisses, grabbing a chalice of wine for himself. “Keep your voice down.”
“He can’t hear me.” Dean shakes his head, looking at you and sighing. “Mark my words, tonight shouldn’t have been such a large production. Airing our grievances in front of a room full of witnesses is a mistake.”
“You’ve already made that clear, Dean.” Sam points at his brother as he’s scolding him. “I’ve made my decision.”
“I’m well aware. But it’s my responsibility as your brother, to tell you when I think you’re making the wrong choice.” Dean glances at you, “You’ve been distracted lately-”
“Stop.” Sam cuts him off. “I need you tonight, are you going to get on board or not?”
“I always have your back, brother.” Dean slaps Sam on the arm. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I promise.”
199 notes · View notes
perlukafarinn · 5 years
Note
Love your stories should be really grateful if you could fill this prompt in: Destiel AU, where they’re already an established couple and they get into a fight, could be about anything. Some heated words are exchanged and later on Dean gets hurt or sick, cue an angry and worried Cas (preferably human) who wants to both fuss over/ fight with Dean but wants to look after him anyway. (There’s just something about Cas dealing with explosive emotions which makes me super happy!)
It starts when Cas leaves his dirty dishes in the sink.
Dean snipes at him about it, which Cas thinks is unfair. He was going to wash the dishes later and he tells Dean as much, but Dean replies that it’s bullshit and that he’s always the one who ends up doing it. 
Cas snaps. He’s sick of Dean treating him like a child, like he doesn’t trust him to take care of himself since he became human. 
“Well, maybe you are a child,” Dean replies derisively. “You can’t even pick up after yourself!”
Anger rises in Cas’ throat and he wants to shout at Dean - wants to fight him, give this uncomfortable feeling some outlet, but he knows that if he does Dean will only take it to mean that he’s right.
He leaves instead. He takes one of the bikes in the bunker’s garage and drives for a while. It does a lot to help that restless anger but once he gets back to the bunker in the evening, he finds that he’s still mad.
He sleeps in his own room. It’s empty and cold, and the mattress in his bed isn’t nearly as comfortable as Dean’s, but he’s not going to sleep next to someone who doesn’t respect him.
The next few days are uncomfortable, filled with passive-aggressive snipes and frosty silences. Cas waits for Dean to apologize, since he was the one who started this fight, but he doesn’t. 
In the end, Sam is the one to crack. He finds a hunt not too far away and asks Dean to join him, telling Cas that he can take the time off and do something fun for himself.
It’s nice to have some space to himself but the bunker feels huge and unwelcoming without the Winchesters there. Cas busies himself with reading, trying out new recipes (although he defaults to eating grilled cheese most nights), and holding desperately onto his anger.
He’s alone for four days. Sam keeps him updated on the hunt but Dean doesn’t send one message. Cas keeps his phone on hand constantly, wondering whether he should be the one to break the silence between them but he can’t bring himself to. Dean is the one who owes him an apology, not the other way around.
Finally, they return. Cas is in the kitchen when they arrive, making toast and scrambled eggs. He gives Sam a polite greeting and is fully prepared to pointedly ignore Dean when he notices the cast on his arm.
Before he’s even aware of having taken a step, he’s across the room, grabbing for Dean’s arm. “What happened?”
Dean yanks it back, wincing at the movement. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“That is not fine,” Cas says. “What happened?”
Dean shrugs with one shoulder, not saying anything.
“The ghost threw him at a tombstone,” Sam says.
Dean gives him a betrayed look. “Dude.”
“Is it just your arm?” Cas asks, looking over Dean, frustrated that he can’t just pick out every injury in a second like he could before.
“That’s the worst of it,” Dean admits reluctantly. “Got a couple of bruises too but I’m fine, really. And your eggs are burning.”
Cas turns and indeed, there’s smoke rising from the pan. He strides over and turns off the stove, removing the eggs from the heat. They don’t look too bad, fortunately.
Dean, who has approached him and is peering over his shoulder, seems to disagree. “Did you forget to add the milk?”
“No,” Cas lies. “I prefer them without it.”
“I’ll make another batch.”
Cas grabs Dean’s elbow before he can move. “You are doing no such thing, you’re injured.”
“I’m-”
Frustration wells in Cas’ chest. “Say fine again and I will lose it.”
Dean’s mouth snaps shut. “...I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
“I’m not,” Cas says. “Now sit down. Are you hungry?”
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” Dean says petulantly, but he sits down.
Cas feels another surge of frustration. Having Dean back, still stubborn as ever and still not apologizing, has reignited his anger but seeing him injured makes him want to let go of it. He isn’t sure which instinct to follow.
“Even if you don’t need it, let me,” he says. “For my peace of mind.”
Dean looks up at him. For a long moment, they just stare at each other, then finally he relents. “I could eat.” He makes a face, and adds, “But not your rubbery eggs.”
Cas draws in a deep breath, ignoring his impulse to tell Dean where he can shove those rubbery eggs then. “Fine. I’ll make grilled cheese.”
He expects Dean to make some snarky comment about how all Cas can properly make is grilled cheese - which wouldn’t be wrong exactly - but instead he just nods. “Okay. Thanks.”
Cas turns back to the eggs on the pan, scraping them onto a plate for himself. They don’t look appetizing, he has to admit, but Dean has taught him never to throw out food.
He’s about to head for the fridge to get the ingredients necessary for a grilled cheese when Dean grabs his wrist. He looks at him and Dean ducks his head, blushing a little.
“I’m sorry, by the way,” he says, so quiet that Cas can barely hear him. “I didn’t mean it.”
Cas blinks. The expected joy at hearing Dean finally apologize never comes. Instead, it’s just relief - that he doesn’t have to hold onto his anger anymore. That he won’t have to sleep alone. 
“I’m sorry, too,” he says. “I won’t leave dirty dishes in the sink again.”
Dean snorts. He tugs at Cas’ arm, pulling him in for a one-armed hug around his waist. He rests his head against Cas’ stomach and Cas feels in that moment absurdly, over-the-top in love. He thinks that if Dean leaned on him more, literally and metaphorically, he wouldn’t mind one bit.
“Hey,” Dean mutters, voice muffled by Cas’ shirt.
“Yes?”
“When did Sam leave?”
Cas blinks. Looks around the kitchen, empty except for the two of them.
“I’m not sure,” he admits.
342 notes · View notes
fanaticalthings · 4 years
Text
A Cry at the Final Breath
AO3 Link
Warning: Destiel Angst. Like a lot.
——
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just a simple vampire case. This shouldn’t be happening at all.
Dean’s surroundings flicker in and out of existence as the blood rushes in his ears. All he can think about is Sam. Sam.
His brother is spasming in his arms and Dean can’t do anything about it. There’s so much blood. God, there’s so much. Dean’s hasty bandage job isn’t gonna cut it. His hands are stained red, and whenever Dean looks over to Sam’s face, the eyes staring back barely display a lick of recognition. 
“Stay with me, Sam!” Dean gives him a good shake, hoping that the eyes that fall in and out of focus will show some semblance of understanding.
“It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, little brother,” Dean reassures, but to whom, he doesn’t know.
Dean doesn’t notice it, but his face is wet, and he wouldn’t have known had his tears not dampened his brother’s flannel. He’s barely keeping it together. Whenever Dean tries to keep the blood from flowing, his hands come away red.
His heart drops when Sam stops struggling– his body limp in Dean’s arms. His hands start shaking as he reaches for Sam’s wrist, looking for a pulse.
Dean’s hands come up to Sam’s face, and he drops his forehead on top of his brother’s.
“Goddamnit. Don’t do this to me, Sammy.”
Dean’s starting to panic now, and he can’t stop it. His brother’s eyes aren’t opening, and he can’t feel a pulse.
He starts praying. He’s desperate. He can’t let his baby brother die. Not now. Not when he still has a life to live. He knows that no God up there is listening to him, but right now he doesn’t care.
For a moment, Dean thinks of calling Cas, but the thought leaves as soon as it had come. Logically, he knows Cas might not be able to help at all. Hell, he could barely even heal a scratch now. Dean knows deep down that he can’t do anything.
Dean doesn’t know how long he sits there. His legs start to feel sore, but he barely pays any attention to anything else that goes on. He doesn’t even lift his head when he hears the familiar growl of the Impala’s engine. He can hear footsteps approaching, and a lingering presence over him. Without looking, he already knows who it is.
“Dean-”
“Heal him! You can do it, right? You can fix him, right, Cas?” Dean is frantic and doesn’t even let Cas speak a single sentence before he’s desperately pulling at the sleeves of his trench coat. Dean’s not even thinking properly anymore. 
“Please,” Dean whispers.
Blue eyes meet green. Dean can see the guilt hidden behind those eyes, but he ignores it. He’s hanging on by a thread, hoping that it isn’t too late.
Cas hesitantly bends down to press two fingers to Sam’s forehead, but nothing happens.
When Cas crouches down lower, Dean expects him to try it again, but instead, he puts his arms under Sam and lifts him. He looks up at Dean, and he can see it in those blue eyes– there’s nothing he can do. 
A wet laugh wracks through Dean, giving him a full-body shudder. Cas looks like he’s about to cry, but Dean doesn’t care. He can’t look at him right now. He just grabs Sam’s lifeless body and cradles him.
He sits like this for a while and imagines that harrowing November years ago when he carried his baby brother out of the house fire. Back then, he carried a new life out of harm’s way. Now, years later, he was clutching the limp corpse of his brother in his arms.
This was not fair. This shouldn’t have fucking happened. If it was Dean, fine, whatever, but not Sam. Sam didn’t deserve this.
When Cas gently pries Sam out of Dean’s arms, he’s so numb that he doesn’t even fight back. He just lets Cas carry Sam away.
Cas starts to walk towards the Impala with Sam’s body carried bridal style. Dean’s still on his knees on the ground. He doesn’t want to get up. He doesn’t want to do anything. He feels so defeated.
He’s still staring blankly at the dirt on the ground even when Cas returns to urge Dean into the car.
He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and normally this would ground him– make him feel better, but now it only deepens the gaping chasm he feels in his chest.
“Dean, we should go now,” Cas says softly.
He speaks as if he’s afraid that Dean will suddenly put a gun to his head.
Dean wants to respond in anger. He wants to lash out at Cas and scream. It’s the only thing he knows how to do when faced with grief, but for once in his pathetic life, he feels the fight leave him.
The sky had darkened a considerable amount since Cas had gotten here and it’s starting to get a little chilly, but Dean can barely feel any of it.
“How did you even find us?” Dean grits out. He can still feel Cas’s eyes on his back. A part of him even wants to blame Cas, but Dean stays quiet.
“I felt it,” Cas responds. “Your anguish. I left immediately when I felt you were in danger.”
Somehow this makes Dean feel even worse. He doesn’t respond.
“I heard your prayer. It helped me find where you were.” Cas pauses. “As did your longing.”
Dean doesn’t bother asking him what that even means. He just continues staring at that same patch of dirt near his knees.
Cas crouches in front of him, but Dean doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Please, Dean. We should head back now. You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here any longer.”
Under any other circumstances, Dean would’ve retorted back and told Cas that he didn’t need to be babied, but he can’t find it in him to fuss about it, so he stands up numbly, and walks towards the Impala.
Once Dean gets in, he chances a glance at the back seats. Sam’s body is covered by a sheet strewn over him neatly. Dean thinks it’s probably for the best that he can’t see his brother’s face.
Once Cas climbs onto the passenger seat, Dean starts the car without a word. It stays like that for the rest of the ride with Cas staring worriedly at Dean the whole way home.
——-
The next few weeks pass by in a blur. Dean rarely leaves the bunker after Sam’s funeral.
Bobby, Jody and even Claire visit him in an attempt to get him to talk, to look at them, to do anything that isn’t wallowing in sorrow. 
The empty beer bottles grow in numbers every day, and with each one, the hole inside Dean grows a little bigger.
It still feels a little surreal to Dean. Even now, he sometimes expects to see Sam walking through the Bunker’s entrance. 
Death’s always seemed like a faraway illusion to them, he’d think that by now he would’ve gotten used to it. 
Sometimes at night, when Dean would have downed at least five bottles of beer, he’ll hear a noise and immediately bolt up. He’s foolish to believe it could be Sam, but he hopes anyway. 
It’s never Sam.
Cas is always there. Maybe not right next to Dean, but he’s always lurking. On many occasions, he’ll stand outside Dean’s room and just listen. 
He’s never felt more useless until now– a wingless angel incapable of even healing a stab wound. He suspects that by the end of the year, it’ll be a miracle if he can even power a lightbulb.
He builds a little grave for Sam while Dean is still grieving. It’s the least he can do right now and he thinks he chose a nice spot. It’s near a lake under a maple tree. It’s a beautiful sight.
Dean never visits it.
——
When Dean finally leaves his room, it’s to go on another case. He holds himself differently now– like a broken shell of a man operating on autopilot. Those once vibrant eyes that Castiel always longingly gazed into were now dull and empty. It shakes something in his vessel. Like a bird unable to escape from its cage and take flight.
Castiel is afraid. He’s afraid that Dean will do something reckless in his current state. And without his ability to heal like before, he’s afraid that Dean will get himself gravely injured and he won’t be able to help him.
When Dean finishes packing his duffel bag, he abruptly turns around and looks at Castiel for the first time in a while.
“You comin’ on this one?” Dean says. His voice is hoarse, and he sounds more tired than determined.
“Of course, Dean,” Castiel starts, ”but-”
“Good. Then let’s go,” Dean huffs before turning to walk up the stairs.
Castiel watches as he walks out the door before he follows suit. With Dean the way he is, Castiel can’t afford to leave him alone now.
Ever since Sam’s death, Castiel watches Dean like a hawk. Even when the older Winchester locks himself in his room, Castiel always makes sure he can still reach him if anything were to happen
He’s already lost one Winchester, he can’t lose the other.
——
Castiel was certainly right to be cautious. Immediately into the first fight, Dean charges in headfirst without any warning or plan. 
If Castiel were human, he would’ve felt his heart jump 15ft. But instead, he rushes forward, angel blade in hand to make sure no harm comes to Dean.
It’s a quick fight. The Djinns were vastly weaker and more disorganized than the usual monsters they’d had to face, but it still doesn’t ease Castiel’s nerves.
That night, when they return to the bunker, Castiel grabs Dean’s wrist before he has the chance to bolt into his room.
“What were you thinking?” Cas stresses. Dean doesn’t even bother to look him in the eyes.
“Obviously, I was doing the job,” Dean snaps back.
Nowadays, his patience is always worn thin, and whenever Castiel tries to talk to Dean, he feels like he’s walking on eggshells.
“And what if you’d gotten hurt? What if we’d miscalculated and there were more monsters than we’d anticipated?” He’s speaking to Dean like a mother would her child after causing trouble.
Dean finally looks up and stares Castiel down. The look he gives him is not heartwarming. It does not make his heart flutter, but instead, makes Castiel unfathomably sad.
The man staring back at him is broken and defeated. The once bright soul that Castiel had touched– had cradled in his grasp, was now a distant memory.
“That would’ve my problem to deal with,” Dean mutters back. “and if you don’t like it, then don’t come with me next time.”
Immediately, he turns to walk away.
Castiel doesn’t stop him.
There’s a faint ache in his chest when he hears the distanced click of Dean’s lock.
——
Castiel is visiting Sam’s grave when he feels it. Something is wrong, and he just knows. 
Immediately, he rushes back to the bunker to find Dean’s belongings thrown all over the place, as if he’d been in a fight. But when Castiel opens the door to his room, he sees Dean propped against the wall sporting ugly wounds.
Already, Castiel is at his side. Worry spikes throughout his mind as he inspects the injuries inflicted. 
There’s blood seeping through Dean’s shirt, and Castiel can see the nasty gash near Dean’s hip.
Before Castiel can reach forward to stanch the bleeding, Dean flinches away and swats Castiel’s hand from near his wound.
“Don’t,” Dean starts. He’s looking at Castiel menacingly as if warning him to back off. “Just leave me alone.”
“Dean,” Castiel pleads, but Dean is already turning away.
Castiel catches Dean’s hand before he’s fully out of reach.
“Please,” he begs. His eyes convey an infinite amount of sadness, and he wills for Dean to look at him– to give him a sign that the man he pulled out of hell is still there. “Don’t push me away. Let me help you. Please, Dean.”
Dean reluctantly lifts his head and meets Castiel’s eyes. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and Castiel can feel his heart swell at this small action.
Dean’s let’s out a sigh of resignation. It’s the closest thing Castiel is going to get to an agreement.
He gently grasps Dean’s hands and guides him towards the bed.
Once Dean is seated and shows no signs of getting up, Castiel leaves to get a washcloth and the first aid kit.
When he returns, Dean is still seated at the edge of the bed, looking down at his bloodstained hands.
Castiel begins cleaning the blood off of Dean’s face with the wet cloth. Dean has gone back to avoiding Castiel’s gaze, he forces himself not to feel hurt by it.
Castiel tries to be as gentle as possible, fingers fluttering softly over cuts and bruises. His fingers hover over Dean’s cheek longer than he should. Castiel wants to heal him. He wants to press his fingers into Dean’s skin and make it all better within a blink of an eye. But he can’t, and Castiel’s heart clenches at the thought.
Dean is looking at him now, but he looks wary. Castiel holds his gaze and stares longingly into those all too familiar green eyes. It makes him remember the early days– when every time he came to Dean, he could see his soul resonating throughout the universe. He could recognize this man anywhere without hesitation– this beautiful human that he rebuilt piece by piece in hell.
Castiel bends down to clean the wound on Dean’s side. He gently yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. He can see the blood splattered all over Dean like a canvas.
As he starts to scrub away at the wounds, Castiel holds back a choke at the back of his throat.
“Why are you doing this?” He whispers. Dean doesn’t answer him– just looks away angrily.
“Why are you hurting yourself?” Castiel continues. His voice is pleading and desperate. The silence stretches on.
It’s so quiet that Castiel can hear water droplets leaking from the nearby sink. Dean still doesn’t answer, and Castiel can feel his heart sink.
His fingers work deftly as he stitches and bandages the injury. There is little protest on Dean’s part, just the occasional grunt or wince whenever Castiel makes contact with the wound.
When he’s fully finished, Castiel looks up to see Dean staring down at him. He hasn’t said a single word so far, but Castiel feels something stir inside him.,
Castiel’s hands come up to Dean’s face– gingerly cupping him. He can see the anguish within the lines on his face, Castiel wants to make them go away.
Slowly, very slowly, Castiel bends down to place his lips on Dean’s. He can feel Dean flinch from underneath him, but he doesn’t pull away. The kiss is soft and passionate. Months of sorrow slip through the cracks in an instant from this one intimate gesture. Castiel can feel his dimming grace exploding within his vessel, sensations tingling throughout his entire body. It feels amazing as if he were a fully powered angel again, but it’s over too soon.
When Dean pulls away, it’s to look down at his hands again. There’s an indescribable look on his face as if he’s contemplating what had just happened.
Reluctantly, Castiel walks away to grab Dean some fresh clothes. He tosses him a faded AC/DC shirt, which Dean immediately slips into.
Without another word, Dean lies down onto his bed with his back facing Castiel. 
“Thanks,” Dean mumbles under his breath. 
Castiel can see that Dean is tense from where he’s standing. He slowly begins to shuffle closer to the bed, feeling the need to fill the heavy silence.
When the bed dips under Castiel’s weight, Dean does not move away; He takes this as an invitation to stay. Castiel remains seated at his side and brings a hand up to Dean’s shoulder– the exact place where his mark used to be when Castiel rebuilt him.
“Please,” Castiel says. It seems like please is all he can say to Dean now. How long it has been since they had last had a normal conversation, he does not know. “Talk to me, Dean.”
Castiel yearns for that sense of normalcy again. He craves those nightly conversations, the needless movie nights and the peaceful car rides that he had once shared with Dean. He does not want things to stay like this. But deep down, Castiel knows that a part of Dean Winchester died alongside his brother, buried far below the surface, never to be seen again. 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Dean grunts and that seems to be the end of it.
Despite this, Castiel continues talking. If Dean will not speak to him, then he will fill the silence with his own thoughts instead.
“You shouldn’t have gone out alone,” he chastises. Castiel knows that Dean does not want to hear this nor will he listen to him, but Castiel feels the need to say this anyway. 
“Please don’t do this to yourself, you mean too much to me,” Castiel whispers. He’s lying down next to Dean now– his back to Castiel’s chest. 
“Sam wouldn’t have wanted this.”
At the mention of his brother, Dean’s breath hitches. He turns around abruptly, facing Castiel with blazing fury.
“Don’t you dare say that,” Dean seethes through clenched teeth. “We all know it should’ve been me. Sammy didn’t deserve any of this crap and you know it!”
The ache in Castiel’s chest returns, and without thinking, he wraps his arms around Dean.
“Don’t say that,” Castiel says under his breath. “Please don’t say that.”
Dean doesn’t push him away.
“All I had to do was protect him. I had one job and I couldn’t even do it!” Dean is shaking now, from rage or sadness, Castiel does not know, but he pulls him closer to his chest regardless.
Castiel does not know what else to say, so he just embraces Dean as the shaking subsides.
“I’m just tired, Cas,” Dean relents. His face no longer conveys anger, but instead shows exhaustion.
“I know,” Castiel murmurs. “You should get some rest.”
Dean does not say anything else after that.
They spend the rest of the night like this, tight in each other’s embrace.
When Castiel wakes in the morning, the space beside him is cold.
——
The next few months pass by no differently. If anything, Dean has gotten worse– he sleeps less, drinks more. Castiel does not know how to help him.
He accompanies Dean on as many cases as he can, afraid that if he looks away for too long, Dean will disappear before Castiel can get to him.
It gets to the point where Dean starts to get irritated, snapping at Castiel when he’s hovering around too much, or running off recklessly when he feels too suffocated.
He tells Castiel to lay off him, and to stop constantly following him like a duckling. Castiel reluctantly obeys.
They never talk about the kiss. Dean acts as if nothing had even happened, and Castiel had resigned himself to rarely initiating any more intimate touches. It hurts him inside, but if it makes Dean less uncomfortable, Castiel is willing to oblige.
Nowadays, Castiel tries to give Dean a reasonable amount of space. He’s read somewhere in a self-care book that people need to be alone at times when grieving to heal themselves on their own. So Castiel stays back on a couple of cases in hopes that eventually Dean will open up to him.
——
It does not get better. It seems now that the gaping chasm between Castiel and Dean has only grown larger. The lasting effects of Sam’s death linger like a skunk’s stench. Castiel doesn’t know what to do at this point, but he still hopes.
When Dean returns from his most recent hunt, Castiel immediately approaches him. The dark circles under Dean’s eyes are more visible than ever now.
“Sit with me?” Castiel asks. He’d already taken out two glasses of whiskey in hopes of making Dean stay.
Dean almost doesn’t acknowledge him. Almost.
There’s still a deep-rooted affection in Dean’s eyes whenever he looks at Castiel. It may be faded and barely noticeable, but it’s there.
Dean slowly sits down next to Castiel and brings the glass to his lips to take a long sip. The kitchen is mostly quiet save for the drinking on Dean’s part. Castiel just watches him. Dean looks more burdened like this. The lines in his features seem to form a constant scowl on Dean’s face more often now.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Castiel breaks the silence. He can hear Dean swallow abruptly. “There was nothing you could have done, Dean.”
Castiel wants to drill it into Dean’s head that he shouldn’t have to carry this pain alone.
“So please, stop doing this to yourself,” Castiel brushes his hand over Dean’s.
There’s still a fire in those green eyes staring back, but the flames don’t appear to be as vicious as before.
“I wish I could take the pain away,” Castiel begins, “but I can’t, so let me in. You don’t have to go through this by yourself, Dean.”
Dean looks away now. Castiel can see him gritting his teeth, and for a second, he’s afraid his words will have meant nothing, but Dean reluctantly turns his head back and stares into Castiel’s eyes.
“Ok,” Dean relents. He sounds tired, but there’s a small acceptance in the way Dean says it.
Castiel smiles. He can see the corners of Dean’s mouth quirk up slightly as well.
For the first time in forever, it feels as though everything will be alright.
——
They slowly start to slip back into their old routine. One day Castiel suggests they have a movie night just like before. Dean begrudgingly agrees. It’s not much, but they’re getting there.
As the images of Tombstone flash across the screen, Castiel finds that he can’t help but stare at Dean the entire time. His features have softened slightly and it calms Castiel to know that Dean does not seem as upset as before.
They sit together on the couch, but neither of them talks. Surprisingly though, this feels fine. Castiel hardly pays any mind to the movie, and he suspects the same goes for Dean. Castiel risks a small scoot closer. Dean doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t react. Their shoulders are touching now, but it feels right. Castiel had rarely gotten the chance to be around Dean this past month and he intends on changing that.
Even after the movie has ended they don’t move. Dean is staring down at his hands again and Castiel is starting to suspect that something must be bothering him.
“I can’t get it out of my head, man,” Dean grimaces. 
Castiel stares down at where Dean is looking. His hands seem fine, and Castiel hadn’t noticed any injuries, so he stares confusedly back at Dean.
‘What?” Castiel asks. He feels the need to embrace Dean again, but he’s almost certain the action would not be met with a positive response at the moment.
“His blood.” Dean looks up at Castiel. “Sammy’s blood,” he reiterates.
Castiel remains silent. He feels guilty that he doesn’t know how to respond, so he just leans in closer to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He can feel some of the tension start to dissipate from Dean’s body. He hopes that this simple gesture will show Dean that Castiel is here for him.
They return back to their comfortable silence, only now Dean is leaning much closer to Castiel. 
After a moment, they talk. Not about Sam, but of small things– like how the price of beer increased recently, or how the Impala could use a wash soon. It’s mostly to fill the quiet of the bunker or to distract Dean from other darker thoughts, but it feels nice. When Castiel doesn’t understand a reference Dean remarks, it earns him a small chuckle out of Dean. It makes Castiel feel warm inside– to be slipping back into their old habits.
They stay like this until morning.
——
Things start to get better, Castiel thinks. The bottles of beer start to decrease drastically, and he notices that Dean does not feel as inclined to rush recklessly into battle every other day.
Dean still rarely smiles, but Castiel hopes that will change with a little more time.
Everything feels more complete with each day that passes that Castiel begins to lower his guard.
For the first time since Sam’s death, Dean goes to visit his grave. He chooses to go alone, which Castiel understands.
When Dean doesn’t return for some time, Castiel starts to worry. He tries to reason with himself that Dean is still grieving and has probably chosen to be left alone to his thoughts, but Castiel cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong.
He calls Dean multiple times, texts him, and even asks Bobby or Jody to try to get ahold of him, but to no avail. Without thinking, Castiel grabs the keys to the spare car and exits the bunker.
Logically, he should calm down and wait for Dean to come back. He always does. But something in Castiel sits uncomfortably, and uncertainty swims in his gut.
As soon as he’s driving Castiel can feel his heart rate pick up and he starts to run scenarios in his head. Dean was getting better, this couldn’t have been happening now, things were returning back to normal.
Castiel internally blames himself. If he were still a fully powered angel he could fly over to Dean in an instant and heal him of any harm.
Now, more human than ever, Castiel can feel the sweat collecting at his forehead, he can feel the underlying fear rolling around in his head. He isn’t even certain he knows where Dean is– if he was even at Sam’s resting place, but somehow, Castiel knows. He just knows where Dean will be, and the thought of it makes his guts churn in dread.
He drives faster. He has little regard for his surroundings, he can only pray that Dean will be okay– that he’ll just be sitting in the Impala enjoying some of his cassettes, losing track of time. Castiel knows this is a foolish thought.
In the distance, Castiel can see a barn coming into view. The barn where Sam died.
As Castiel draws near, sure enough, he can see the Impala parked onto the side.
As soon as Castiel reaches the entrance, he swings open the car door without a second thought and bolts towards the opening of the barn.
He can smell blood mixed with animal droppings and the overall musty odour the barn emits.
With angel blade in hand, Castiel walks through the darkened rooms.
The barn is crumbling from years of abandonment. There are feces scattered about, and broken glass strewn all over the place, Castiel can even see the bodies of vampires littered throughout the confines of the compass, but none of that catches his attention.
It’s so dark that Castiel almost misses him– the crumpled form of Dean Winchester lying at the side of the wall.
Castiel’s heart drops as he races towards Dean.
There’s so much blood, and Castiel can barely feel anything as the adrenaline kicks in.
He turns Dean over and is met with a pained groan.
There is a knife wound right in the middle of Dean’s chest, and Castiel sees his fears flashing to life.
“Cas?” Dean croaks.
It’s said so quietly and weakly that it scares Castiel.
Castiel is already trying to stanch the bleeding. He presses two fingers to Dean’s forehead and prays so desperately that his grace will flow out and heal him. But nothing happens.
Castiel doesn’t realize he’s shaking violently until Dean’s hand comes up to grasp at his trench coat. As Castiel gazes into Dean’s eyes, he sees acceptance. He sees the man lying before him giving up. Castiel holds back tears.
“Why would you do this?” Castiel whispers. His voice comes out shaky and broken. He’s trying so hard not to come apart.
“Had to…teach those bastards…a lesson,” Dean huffs out. His breathing is ragged and there’s more blood pooling underneath him. Castiel can tell that he’s barely holding on.
Dean’s eyes roll in and out of his head as if he’s trying to stay awake. He looks up at Castiel and offers a small smile.
“I’ll get…to see Sammy..soon.” Dean coughs and sputters and more blood comes out every time he moves.
Castiel can’t stop them now. The tears come bursting through the dam at the sound of those words. He’s rarely ever cried before but now he can’t help it. Had he not been enough? Had he not done something right? He had thought Dean was getting better, he thought he was helping him.
Castiel is practically hyperventilating now. His chest aches so much that it’s all he feels now. Had this been what Dean had felt?
He can feel a hand resting on his cheek and Castiel looks back down at Dean. He suddenly looks so sad. That previous triumph and acceptance long faded from his eyes.
“Don’t cry,” Dean whispers. It’s so hard to hear him that Castiel has to lean further down. “I’m sorry.”
Castiel is crying more now. He feels so small at this very moment– so helpless and pathetic. It’s hard to believe that he was once an all-powerful being capable of mass destruction.
“I’m sorry you had to deal….with me….You didn’t deserve….any of this.“ 
Castiel clutches Dean tighter at this.
“Don’t ever say that!” Castiel tries to shout, but it comes out barely comprehensible and strangled. “If I had the chance to do this over again, I’d choose you. It was always you. You taught me what it meant to be human.”
Castiel can’t find his breath as he speaks, but he has to say more, he has so many more things he would like to tell Dean– things he needs to tell him.
“You taught me what it was like to feel love,” he murmurs into Dean’s ear.
Castiel can hear Dean scoff at that. Even bleeding to death, Dean still has the energy to retort back.
“I bet… I was a pretty…crap teacher,” Dean lets out a small chuckle. Castiel drops his head onto Dean’s chest. He can hear the weakened ba-dump of Dean’s heart starting to slow.
He wanted to do so much more with Dean– watch terribly written movies, go out to bars and get drunk, drive around in the Impala. Castiel had hoped he would get to experience more of humanity with Dean at his side, but with every second that passes, that dream seemed to flicker like a candle’s dying flame.
As Dean’s breaths start to slow, Castiel continues to hold him close. Castiel hopes that somewhere, in another universe, he’d be living out his happy ending alongside the Winchesters– alongside Dean.
“I love you,” Castiel whispers softly into Dean’s shirt. “Please don’t go.”
Even after Dean’s body slackens in his grip, Castiel stays like this for a little while longer, holding the man he gave up everything for.
At the final breath, all Castiel can do is cry.
20 notes · View notes
lady-wallace · 4 years
Text
Whumptober Day 18: Infection
Prompt: Infection (alternate prompt #11)
Fandom: Supernatural
Links: Ao3   FF.net
~~~~~~~
Dean winced as he peeled back the bandage, the tape sticking to the tender skin around the gash across his ribs. He bit his lip as he revealed it.
           He’d gotten it in a fight with a rougaru last week, and it still hurt. In fact, it still looked pretty bad too. The stitches Sam had put in pulled painfully, and some were red around the edges. A bit of off-color discharge was on the bandage as Dean threw it into the trash, nausea welling up at the sight. Yeah, so the wound may be infected. But they didn’t have time to deal with it right now. He’d figure that out once they got back from their next hunt.
           There was a knock on the door before Sam peeked his head in and Dean instantly dropped his t-shirt back in place, not wanting Sam to see the wound and fuss over him when they needed to go. He couldn’t afford to sit this one out, not with Cas human now, and still getting his sea legs. It looked like they would be going up against a whole vamp nest and Dean knew it needed to be all hands on deck.
           “Hey, are you ready?” Sam asked.
           “Yeah, just grabbing my gear.”
           Sam nodded and left again. Dean let out a fortifying breath and pulled his shirt up again, gripping it in his teeth as he applied a new bandage. Then he grabbed his duffle, cringing at the effort of hefting it over his shoulder, and went to join Sam and Cas.
XXX
Stake outs were never fun, but this one seemed even worse to Dean. His body ached, his head ached, his wound was unbearableand all of this was making it really hard to concentrate.
           He nearly jumped when Sam opened the car door, slipping inside with food and coffee from his run to the gas station.
           “Got the snacks,” he said, handing them out. “Hey, you okay?”
           Dean had been looking at the food with distaste, his stomach also a little queasy. “Hm? I’m fine,” he said.
           “You just look a little flushed,” Sam said.
           “It’s fricken’ hot in here,” Dean retorted, taking the coffee and giving it a long sip.
           “Sam, Dean,” Cas warned and they turned to look out the window.
           The vamp they had pegged was leaving the building and getting into a car.
           “Show time,” Dean said and started the Impala up, pulling out behind the vampire.
           They followed it to an old abandoned hotel in a pretty unpopulated part of town—the perfect place for monsters to hide out.
           “Let’s go,” Dean said, dragging himself out of the car. He paused a moment, suddenly lightheaded and masked it by holding onto the roof of the car as he closed the door. He took several deep breaths, his wound pulling as he did, then went to grab his machete from the trunk.
           “Dean, are you sure you’re all right?” Sam asked, concerned. “You look a little sick.”
           “I’m fine,” Dean grunted, but he was beginning to think he had a fever, and not from a cold. He was really gonna have to get that wound looked at after this.
           Neither Sam nor Cas looked convinced of his reassurance and, frankly, neither was he. He shook his head and followed them into the hotel. They were already here, there was nothing he could do about it.
           There was no one down on the lower floor when they entered, but they could hear movement on the next floor up. They crept up the stairs as silently as possible and tried to see where the vampires might be hiding.
           There was a muffled sound in one room and Dean stopped the others, going to open the door.
           Inside, they found three young girls bound and gagged. They hurried inside, and quickly released them.
           “Are you okay, did they hurt you?” Sam asked.
           “Did they make you drink anything?” Dean followed up grimly.
           The girls tearfully shook their heads, then one screamed.
           Dean and the others whipped around as a vampire launched itself at them.
           “They’re ours, hunter!” it snarled.
           Cas was closest and lashed out with his machete, but the vampire was fast and the blade sliced his arm instead of his neck. He shoved Cas aside into the wall and rushed Sam and Dean.
           The two of them surged forward, and Dean swung, only to have his wound pull and agony shoot through him. He gasped, doubling over.
           “Dean!” Sam cried as the vampire turned toward him, spotting weak prey. The vamp lashed out at Sam, throwing him into Cas who was trying to rejoin the fight, then had Dean slammed against the wall an instant later, fangs close, nearly brushing his throat as Dean struggled weakly, his body simply not having his usual strength. He wrestled with the vampire for the machete, the blade pressing closer and closer to the hunter’s throat until it started to slice into his skin. A drop of blood slid down Dean’s neck.
           The vampire inhaled deeply and leaned in, licking the drop of blood from Dean’s skin before he cringed and backed away. “Your blood is tainted!” he snarled. “You’re sick!”
           Sam was on him then, swinging the machete and taking the vamp’s head off. Dean gasped and slumped against the wall.
           “You okay?” Sam asked him.
           “Come on, we need to go see if we can find the others,” Cas said, as he was helping the girls to their feet and they huddled around him tearfully. “The girls said there were at least five of them.”
           Dean nodded and took a step forward, trying to catch his breath. Dizziness overcame him, though and he reached for the wall, missing it, and then felt himself falling.
           “Dean!”
           Arms caught him before he could hit the ground, but that was the last thing he remembered before the darkness overcame him.
XXX
Dean woke later to the familiar, ominous sounds of a hospital. He groaned and raised a hand to rub over his face.
           “Hey, Dean, how are you?”
           Dean opened his eyes and glanced over to see Sam worriedly sitting beside his bed. Cas had been pacing the room, but he came over as soon as Sam addressed Dean.
           “Mm,” Dean grunted, wincing as he shifted and felt the wound in his side pull. He raised a hand to touch it, but Sam grabbed his wrist to keep him from doing so.
           “Don’t, the doc stitched you up again.”
           “Hurts worse than before,” Dean grunted.
           “They had to flush it out,” Cas informed him. “You’d gotten an infection.”
           “Why the hell didn’t you tell us it was that bad?” Sam demanded, anger born of worry coloring his voice. “You’re lucky we caught it when we did, otherwise you would have been a lot worse off. And you should know better than to hunt when you’re injured.”
           “And don’t forget that I can’t heal you anymore,” Cas added, a pained expression on his face.
           Dean closed his eyes again. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I’m an idiot. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
           Sam sighed tiredly, and ran a hand over his hair. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. They want you to stay for a couple days and are giving you antibiotics.”
           “Screw that, I’m getting out of here tomorrow,” Dean grunted, but he was already falling back to sleep.
           Sam huffed a laugh. “Okay, whatever you say, Dean.”
           “Hm,” Dean murmured before he was completely asleep.
66 notes · View notes
phoenix1966sbottom · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Big Bang 2019 Honorable Mentions
So this is going to be the list for this year’s 2019 Big Bang entries that had no explicit sex or mostly bottom!Sam/Jared or equal switching and I’ll label them accordingly! I’ll be updating and reblogging this at the end of each day, give or take. No postings on weekends. Please consider leaving a comment if you read any of these stories, as it is the only payment the author ever receives. And, as always, head the warnings where the story is posted.
June 17th - Homecoming by runedgirl on LiveJournal. Sam/Dean. Wincest AU. Summary:   John Winchester likes to say that his son Sam is the epitome of an Alpha, a chip off the old block. Together they hunt the monsters that killed Sam’s mother and older brother, leaving Sam with only fragmented memories of his lost family. John has taught Sam to mistrust Omegas, who are relegated to the lowest rung of society, stigmatized and marginalized as lacking in both strength and intelligence. That doesn’t stop Sam from falling for a sex worker named Dean, a man as strong and smart as Sam who he’s surprised to find is an Omega – but that’s not the only thing Dean is hiding. There’s a much bigger surprise in store for Sam and the beautiful stranger. (this has switching, but it is more bottom!Dean)
June 18th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
June 19th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
June 20th - Beast Master by junkerin on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jensen is a special agent working now for the EPA (Environment Protection Agency) after a dramatic event killed his partner. Now he is investigating a case of illegal toxic waste dumping.Jared is a ranger in Yellow Stone Park. He lives with his dog Sammy up alone in the park and his main social contacts are his friends and colleges Chad and Gen. He discovered that some one is dumping toxic waste in the park (he found several dead animals). Oh and there is the thing that he can talk to animals.The two are now working together to stop the pollution of an untouched nature. As the two walk through Yellow Stone they both discover there is more to each other than what is visible at the first sight. (equal switching)
Keep This Secret by ellerkay on Ao3. Sam/Dean. Wincest.  Sam and Dean travel to the fairy realm hoping to make a deal to get Adam released from the Cage. The price: their shared secret. (no penetrative sex, but Sam comes off as toppy)
June 21st - Like a wave crashing over me by @soy-em on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Jensen’s happy with his life. He lives by the sea, spends his days taking photos of the landscape around him and doesn’t really talk to his neighbours. He’s content in the world he’s created for himself. Until Jared shows up on his beach, and for the first time in years, Jensen wants to find a way to overcome his shyness and let someone in. (no penetrative sex)
No posting on weekends. See you on Monday!
June 24th - Nothing that fits the criteria. 
June 25th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
June 26th - The Sceptre and the Stone by zubeneschamali on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jared has been making a living as a smuggler while his city and country have been under occupation by the Iron Lord. It's dangerous work, but it keeps his mind off the way things used to be, and how unlikely it is that they can ever go back. Unlikely, that is, until he gets a package to the one man who could change the world—if they don't both get caught first.Prince Jensen has been in hiding for five years, the last of the rightful rulers of his kingdom. The plans he's been painstakingly making for recovering the throne and restoring magic to his people are brought to a head when an uncommonly skilled smuggler delivers him what he most needs. As he puts his plan into motion, though, he's going to have to figure out how to deal with said smuggler—including the way he makes Jensen want things that have nothing to do with regaining his kingdom. (no penetrative sex, dominant!Jensen).
June 27th - First We’ll Take Manhattan by candygramme and spoonlessone on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jensen is a fashion designer looking for a model to be the ‘face’ of his line. Enter Jared, an aspiring Broadway actor who hasn't ever modeled, but Jensen believes he's perfect for the part. Jared has no idea what he's getting into. There's glitz and drama. There's the excitement he craves, but there's also heartbreak and misery lurking just under the surface.In the rush to get everything ready for fashion week, things get complicated. Jared joins Adrianne Palicki and Aisha Taylor, his other models, and Jensen, along with his staff, get busy putting outfits together for him. (no penetrative sex)
You’ve Got to be Kitten Me by dugindeep on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jensen lives a routine, solitary life with little to no interaction and he likes it just fine. He’d rather not deal with the fuss and rejection of making and keeping connections, so when a stray cat shows up at his apartment building and begs for attention every time they cross paths, Jensen does what he can to ignore it. Of course, that doesn’t last long and he finds himself carving out a space in his world to make it feel at home. Along the road of pet ownership, Jensen meets the very nice and very handsome Dr. Jared Padalecki. The veterinarian's open, warm personality gets to Jensen the same way his new cat has, and Jensen fights against his own hang-ups to get to know him. (warning: no penetrative sex but Jensen wants to bottom)
June 28th - The Road To Come What May by roxymissrose on Ao3. Sam/Dean. Wincest.  A few years back, Dean grabbed his brother and declared to the world, enough! They’d needed to take a breath, and thanks to an unexpected gift from their father, they were able to settle down, act like civilians, at least for a bit. Now, it was time to go back to their only real home, maybe this time for good. What the hell—let some younger, fresher guys handle the world and its problems. Sure, he’d screwed up a lot in the intervening years, but Dean hoped settling down in a new home, and with the promise of normal, he could make it up to Sam. (no penetrative sex)
No posting on weekends. See you on Monday!
July 1st - Nothing that fits the criteria.
July 2nd - Nothing that fits the criteria.
Also, as this Thursday is a national holiday in the U.S., Wendy only has stories scheduled for today and tomorrow  for this week. 
Happy 4th of July to those in the U.S. that celebrate it!
July 8th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
July 9th - Island in the Sun by Mangacat on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  It’s not your typical meet-cute: Jensen, a nano-cybernetics specialist, saved Jared - mortally injured Afghan war veteran - by replacing and rebuilding several of his limbs and organs with cybernetic nano-technology. After struggling with trauma, the otherness of his body, his new extra-human abilities and a very ambiguous relationship with his saviour, Jared has to go on the run from the US government to keep his life and sanity with only Jensen at his side. Now, still fugitives, they’re trying to carve out a life for themselves without tripping any nets of the military and intelligence, when the greatest threat they’ll be facing actually comes from a wholly unexpected direction… (no penetrative sex - I was very tired reading this, so I do not think there was anything mentioned at all, but be aware this is a sequel to a top!Jared story and I might have missed a reference to past events)
July 10th - The Nobleman and the Sword by winterwolke on LiveJournal. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Every noble gets to choose their Sword. They use them ti fight, empowered by their very own magic. Jared lost his Sword. He couldn't control his magic and accidentally killed his trusted one. He live a reclusive life in a secluded keep, far away form the arduous intrigues the other nobles play to gain power and wealth. He has sworn to never pick a Sword again, no matter how direly his kingdom might need him. But there is a prophey, and Jared doesn't know yet that prophecies somtimes come true. (no sex of any kind)
July 11th - It's Just a Dimension Jump (to the Left) by Disneymagics on Livejournal. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Jensen has had a rough life with all the scars, physical, mental, and emotional, to prove it.  He keeps them all hidden because he learned from an early age what telling the truth will get him, a room in a home for troubled teens and antipsychotic meds.  But no matter what anyone else says, he knows monsters do exisit.  From the time he was fifteen years old, he's been on a quest that has consumed his whole life.  Maybe, when he reaches the end of his quest, he can lead a normal life again.  Maybe, he can even reconnect with his high school sweetheart, Jared.  Nah, that's just a fairy tale and fairy tales don't come true.  Not for Jensen. (no penetrative sex; Jensen-centric)
July 12th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
No posting on weekends. See you on Monday for the last week of stories!
July 15th - Breathless by SamanthaNovak on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Jensen is a lonely English professor with an allergy to nuts. Jared is a paramedic haunted by a college tragedy. When the two meet, they're immediately attracted to one another and form a relationship, navigating through busy schedules, Jared's fears brought on by his past, and meeting each others' friends and family. (no penetrative sex)
July 16th - Nothing that fits the criteria.
July 17th - Love Is A Natural Disaster by Alltheshrinks on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jared Padalecki, Eagle Scout and science teacher, spends his days in the mountains of a quiet little corner of the state of Washington. It’s an idyllic paradise, the Cascade Mountain Range are some of the most beautiful and some of the deadliest volcanoes in The United States, But Jared is content leading his scouts and being alone.Dr. Jensen Ackles, is one of the leadings volcanologists around, second only to his mentor Dr. Jeffrey Dean Morgan, volcanoes are his passion, his one love. But that wasn’t always the case.When Jared notices all the signs that their active volcano is getting ready to erupt, he calls the USGS, who sends in his former boyfriend and the man he walked out, Jensen, to investigate.Can they put their feelings behind them long enough to save the town, or will everything be destroyed in one catastrophe or the other?  (equal switching)
July 18th - The Stillness of Wind by TwoBoys2Love on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Jared is weeks away from his 17 birthday and out publically when he meets his brother's best friend, Jensen Ackles. A summer romance blossoms... but Jensen's life is a lot more complicated than Jared knows and soon there are secrets and untold truths tearing them apart.  (no penetrative sex)
July 19th - The Seven Warriors by crimsonepitaph on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU.  Jensen is a normal guy. Not terribly social, but he's fine going at it alone. At least until the afternoon his boss - 6'4, long hair, determined to save the world one software app at a time - calls him in for a meeting. Suddenly, Jensen finds himself inexplicably connected to an ancient legend - the myth of the Seven Warriors - by a mysteriously appearing tattoo. He struggles to figure out what the tattoo, the nuclear bomb exploding in his chest every time he gets close to his boss, and the motley crew of almost-strangers they gather have in common. Maybe that they all change Jensen's life forever... (no penetrative sex)
Please leave comments, support the authors/artists and give Wendy a pat on the back for running this challenge so that we might still have years to come of it!
122 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 15: Fallen!Cas
The Art of Sleep | @wingsdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1631 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Human Castiel, Dreams and Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff Summary: Castiel has trouble adjusting to being human, and has a particularly hard time sleeping. Dean helps him with his sleep issues, and if he thinks he's being subtle, he's not.
A Love of All Things That Grow | @rustling-pages Rating: General Word Count: 4909 Main Tags and Warnings: Miscommunication Summary: What Castiel does, after over a year of drama that didn’t give him time to get used to being human, is start a garden.
A New Beginning | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1452 Main Tags and Warnings: s14 canon divergent, angst with a happy ending Summary: After they admit their feelings and share a passionate night together, Dean is heartbroken to find that Cas has left in the middle of the night.
a walk in the park | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1236 Main Tags and Warnings: s12 canon divergent, fluff Summary: Dean and Cas go on a walk. It's a date, but Dean doesn't know it yet.
If Tomorrow Never Comes | @jupiterjames Rating: Explicit Word Count: 97806 Main Tags and Warnings: fallen Castiel, paramedic Dean, graphic depictions of violence, soul bond, hurt/comfort Summary: Doctor Sam Winchester and paramedic Dean Winchester work at one of the USA's most prestigious hospitals for supernatural beings and victims of supernatural occurrences. During an especially busy shift on a full moon night, Dean and his partner, Benny, respond to a dispatch for an injured celestial being. There they meet Castiel, an angel with a broken wing and a story he's not telling anyone about. After all, governmental agreements between Earth and Heaven have kept uninvited angels off of Earth for more than a century. But Castiel has willingly Fallen to Earth in order to stop a Disaster of divine proportions before it happens. And to do that, he needs the help and supernatural connections that the Winchester brothers possess.
Broken Wings | @pherryt Rating: General Word Count: 1627 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergent, Season 9 divergent, human!Cas, fallen!cas, Hurt!Cas, dean asks him to stay Summary: Sam succeeded - Crowley's cured and the Gates of Hell are closed and somehow he's still alive. It should be cause to celebrate, but all Dean can think of is getting back to the bunker as fast as he can. He's gotta find out if Cas is okay.
I Found | @cr-noble-writes Rating: No Rating Word Count: 1645 Main Tags and Warnings: fluff, angst, song fic Summary: Dean finds himself missing Castiel, and eventually comes to terms with his feelings for Cas only to find him again and wonder if he feels the same.
Worth the Fall | @DesiraeLovesDestiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25138 Main Tags and Warnings: Teacher Dean/Fallen Angel Cas, True love, smut, fluff, humor Summary: The angel Castiel was stationed on Earth to observe, not interact. When he takes it upon himself to intervene in an accident that would have claimed the life of Kindergarten teacher, Dean Winchester, there were consequences. Stripped of most of his powers, Castiel is forced to live as a mortal for one year. But after getting to know the man who led to his fall from grace, the angel soon discovers that he has a choice to make. Return to his post when his punishment is over and never see Dean again, or give up his near immortality to take a chance at a life on Earth with the human he has come to love.
Making love out of nothing at all | @marian-elisa Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 12758 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon divergence, human Castiel, friends to lovers, love confessions, slow burn Summary: A graceless Castiel realized he was in love with Dean. After asking Sam for advice, he decided to tell Dean the truth. From there, things didn't turn out as he would've wanted them to.
A Case of The Grumps | @lemonsorbae Rating: General Word Count: 1073 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, Canon Universe Summary: The angel is grumpy.
Home is With You | @thursdays-fallen-angel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6911 Main Tags and Warnings: Fallen!Cas, Alpha!Cas, Omega!Dean Summary: News of Heaven's forced exodus reaches them, but for the most part, it doesn't do more than graze them. They stay in the bunker, and as long as they're there, rumors of angry angels remain just that-rumors. Inside the safety of their bubble, Sam slowly begins to heal, and as Dean fusses over him and nurses him back to health, life returns to normal. An altered sort of normal, sure, but normal nonetheless. And thankfully, Dean keeps busy enough with his brother that most of his other stresses can remain safely on the back-burner. Well. All stresses except for the biggest one.
Endings Are Easy | @mittensmorgul Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1569 Main Tags and Warnings: Episode: s14e10 Nihilism, Coda, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts Summary: They all finally get a happy ending.
His Leather Jacket | @babybluecas Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10549 Main Tags and Warnings: canon divergent, bittersweet ending, first kiss, first time, fallen!cas, biker!cas Summary: Kicked out of the Bunker, Cas left to live his human life on his own. A few weeks later, he and Dean meet again to solve a case together and Dean can barely believe his eyes. Cas in a black, leather jacket, riding a motorcycle - that's a thing Dean's never expected to see, but he's surely not gonna complain.
There's a rule | @flurryflair Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15209 Main Tags and Warnings: Case fic, Explicit sexual content, Alternate Canon, Human Castiel, Road trip, Angst and feelings, Introspection, Denial of feelings, Mild gore, Canon typical violence, Past Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden Summary: "He can see the sunburn blooming on Cas’s nose, the messy stubble covering his cheeks, the wet dip right above his lips, his eyes, blue and clear and staring at Dean with a longing that feels like it’s primal and raw and everlasting. And Dean wants to have him, wants to keep this, all of it, but he can’t say it. He doesn’t know how to love him in daylight, doesn’t know how to love him honest." ---- Sequel to "There's a nail", where they take the road trip and try to figure it out.
A Few of My Favorite Things | @zenmuppet Rating: Mature Word Count: 1764 Main Tags and Warnings: established relationship, blowjobs, smut, fluff Summary: Castiel has been human for seven months now, and he has found it increasingly annoying. The endless “maintenance” his body requires is his primary complaint, but he also resents the tedium of being polite, the physical weakness of the human body, and the extreme limitations of his five senses. There are a few tangible things, however, that Cas has found make his humanity bearable. These things make him happy, and he will indulge in them at every opportunity. These things are, in no particular order, coffee, cheeseburgers, driving a car, hot showers, blowjobs, kittens, and day spas.
Just a Sniffle | @almaasi Rating: General Word Count: 2027 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Universe, Fluff, Schmoop, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Sick Castiel, Human Castiel, Affectionate Dean, Foot Massage, Light Petting, Sharing a Bed, Castiel and Dean Watch Television, Dean Watches Castiel Sleep, Sam Knows Summary: Cas is feeling under the weather. Dean skips a hunt to offer some gentle care – which apparently includes foot rubs.
Hold Your Breath | @anupalya Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2462 Main Tags and Warnings: POV Castiel, Human Castiel, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Light Angst, Father Figures Summary: Castiel has the hiccups.
indisputably human | d_e_marcus (AO3) Rating: Mature Word Count: 5659 Main Tags and Warnings: Fallen Angel Castiel; Sad Castiel; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Castiel Learns to be Human; Depression; References to Depression; Anxiety; Happy Ending Summary: When Castiel’s grace was stripped away, leaving him shockingly, indisputably human, the overwhelming number of sensations that flooded his body brought him to his knees. Or, the one where Castiel loses his grace, becomes human and is Bad at Feelings.™
I've Got The Scars From Tomorrow | @babybluecas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3404 Main Tags and Warnings: canon divergent, fallen!cas, first kiss, fluff and angst Summary: A slight change in Cas’s appearance triggers Dean’s memories of his short trip to the year 2014. Luckily, it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with, with a right amount of shaving cream and a razor. Cas is stubborn, Dean has a story to tell and they both learn something important.
Fall & Rise (WIP) | @blazeeblake Rating: Mature Word Count: 67714 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Fallen Castiel, Dark Castiel, Mary Lives, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Canonical Character Death, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: During the war in Heaven, Castiel falls to earth and ultimately joins Lucifer as a Prince of Hell. Centuries later, he finds himself reluctantly ruling Hell in Lucifer’s stead, embittered by both his circumstances and the decisions that brought him there. But when a plan to to reignite the war surfaces, Castiel is launched into a battle of a different kind, one that pits him against those he once commanded and has him protecting the very beings whose existence led to his exile. On the night of November 2nd, 1983, Castiel’s interference in Hell’s plan brings him in contact with Winchester family, and from that day forward, as they struggle through the repercussions of circumstances that irrevocably change and bind them, they are each of them forced to reexamine their understanding of their place in the world, what they are willing to fight for, and who they truly are.
Your Story Isn't Over Yet | jscribbles (AO3) Rating: Mature Word Count: 75443 Main Tags and Warnings: sam's POV, sex swap, temporary female Cas, pregnant cas, grace baby, mentions of losing a baby, pregnancy, morning sickness, temporary character death, canon divergent, angst, grief, human Cas Summary: One morning, Castiel wakes up suddenly very lady-shaped, and Team Free Will discover that a nephilim grows inside him. Sam has no idea how this could have happened considering Cas was supposed to be human, and Dean seems uninterested in finding out how or why their friend is pregnant and female - but he seems goddamn excited. Castiel retreats into himself, seemingly more depressed than usual. Sam is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, though the others seem reluctant to discover the origin of the nephilim. Could the answer be right under his nose?
182 notes · View notes
sweetness47 · 5 years
Text
The Shaman’s Choice
Pairing Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader
Characters of the series include: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Jo, reader’s parents, Reader’s grandmother, Reader’s brothers (Darren OC & Michael OC), Mary, Jack, Apocalypse Archangel!Michael
Chapter 1: 
@spnkinkbingo square filled (free space)
@spnabobingo square filled (Soulmates)
@samwinchesterbingo square filled (Alpha Sam)
Word count: 2970
Summary: So this is an SPN fic, but contains a lot of wild AU ideas. Bear with me while the story unfolds, and enjoy it.
Warnings for all chapters just in case: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY! smut, sex, unprotected sex, abo dynamics, knotting, mating bites, claiming, oral, shower sex, sibling arguments, swearing, violence, mentions of brother in love with sister (unhealthy obsession, jealousy)
Tumblr media
1000 years ago
She proceeds cautiously into the moss-lined cave, not out of fear, but because she knows there are traps set in place to keep out intruders. She is no outsider, but has only been here three times in her life; once when she was born, once on her 10th birthday, and once when her heat came early and triggered a power growth beyond normal limits. She was an Omega, but stronger, and with gifts others did not possess.
The light from her Nana’s fire lit the rest of the way, down the damp passageways, to the clearing where the elder sat. She was meditating when the young Omega approached, so she knelt in front of her Nana and waited.
“My child, you have come to me because of your dream.” The older woman said plainly.
The girl nodded. “My unborn daughter had the dream, and she shared it with me. Now she grows restless. My line’s future is shrouded in darkness. Is my child to be the last of my line?”
Nana shook her head. “No love, but she has indeed glimpsed the future. One thousand years from now, your descendent will be faced with an impossible choice. She will bear the mark of the Shaman, and will be more powerful than you or I. She will be an Omega, strong and brave. She will meet an equally strong Alpha, her soulmate, and will mate with him, however, she must never reveal who she is or what she is. If that information is brought to light, it could mean the end for both of them, and the end of your line, unless she can find the one solution to save them.”
The young woman gasped. “And you can’t say what that solution is, can you? Nana, how will she know what to do?”
Nana placed her hand over her grandchild’s hand. “She will find the knowledge and strength if she trusts herself, and accepts the answer when it presents itself to her, and it won’t matter if she knows what it is for. To refuse will forfeit everything she knows and loves.”
And the young Omega who came searching for answers, exited the cave more confused than when she had entered. She gently rubbed her rounded belly, whispering soothing words to her unborn pup.
Present day:
YN stared at the screen full of birthday wishes, then came across the one her mother had sent. With that particular e-card came a reminder that tonight was her passage ceremony. YN peeked out her window, and watched people getting ready for work or school, and sighed, wishing she was a normal human. But, as all women before her, she was a powerful Omega, possessing gifts that were passed down through the generations. She wasn’t looking forward to the ceremony, mostly because something had appeared on her right wrist last night, something that worried her greatly. She bore the Mark of the Shaman.
Stories had passed through her line about the prophecy, and YN prayed it wouldn’t be her. While she was a natural at using and controlling her abilities, she dreaded the idea of having to face an impossible choice. Worse still, if she did take an Alpha as her mate, her gut feeling was pretty sure that impossible decision would involve him.
YN inwardly cringed. Even with her strength and courage, she hated choices where neither option was a good one, and usually involved heartbreak and/or death.
Oh well, too late to change, as much as she wished otherwise. FUCK! Everyone at the ceremony tonight would have a field day with her signum flaminis, especially her parents and brothers. There was no way in hell to hide the mark. YN sighed again and turned to her bed, where her ceremonial garments lay. The pure white silk gown, embellished with silver beading, was made by her mother, as was tradition, and was to be worn alone. In other words, no other garments, not even underwear, were allowed. The idea was purification, coming into her 18th year with no past or baggage to weigh her down.
The hours ticked by, and soon YN heard people gathering downstairs. In half an hour, her life would renew, and her newly discovered secret would be out. Part of her wanted to run, just change her name and disappear. The prophecy may still happen, but without the ritual, the whole thing could just blow up in every possible wrong direction, including, but not limited to, her death and the death of her entire line. And that would be worse than just facing the damn prophecy.
A soft knock at her door interrupted YN’s thoughts. “Honey? It’s almost time.” Her mother’s voice came from the other side.
“Intra Mater.” YN used Latin, a common practice among her tribe. (Mom’s name) walked in and frowned when she noticed the gown still on the bed. YN knew what was going to come out next, and rolled her eyes at her mom. “I was just getting ready to put it on.”
Her mother smiled and moved to help YN as she began to undress, sliding the smooth fabric over her head and her body. After, YN sat down and allowed her mother to brush her hair, the silky strands falling loosely down her back. Another knock sounded to signal that the ceremony was about to begin. Escorted by her mother, YN slowly made her way downstairs to the large parlor filled with family. At the front of the group was a decorated arch, and there her grandmother stood, ready to bless YN’s journey to adulthood.
The scent of sandalwood filled the room as the crowd began to quiet down, and the Elder woman began to speak in Latin.
“Aspergetur ex hac in illam intrat adulta iuvenis Omega.” (Purify this young Omega as she enters her adulthood.)
“Cor, mens, corpus, anima, amare.” (heart, mind, body, soul, love)
Then YN turned to face the witnesses who were her blood. Her grandmother spoke once more.
“My child, you now enter your 18th year new and protected.”
YN nodded. “I accept the new life given to me.” Then she lifted her sleeve to reveal her secret. “However, last night I was given a gift of a different kind. Behold!”
Whispers and shocked faces lined the crowd.
“Signum Flaminis!”
“The Mark of the Shaman!”
Her mother and father were in shock as well, the two rushing forward, wanting nothing more than to comfort their child. YN held up her hand to stop them, and silence filled the room as all eyes turned to her.
“It is true. I bear the prophetic mark. While this is not what I would have chosen for myself, I shall honor the responsibility and honor all of you.”
Later, after all the fuss had died down, and the celebration was over, YN sat and relaxed in her favorite nook, a bay window in her upstairs study. It had a seated area, comfy cushions, and a fantastic view of the park. She loved to read there, or just sit and think, it was the one place she could truly be herself without any repercussions. She thought about the day, the ceremony, and she felt really good about how things went. Her pulse was racing, she was so energized and not even close to tired. Besides, there was something nagging her, trying to lure her outside, no, more like she needed to.  
Not sure what to expect, YN took the basics in a small backpack and headed out. A light mist had begun to fall, and it shrouded the neighbourhood in a semi-dense fog. Great. A shiver ran up her spine, and her mark began to glow. As she stopped and looked at her surroundings, she swore she saw movement in the forest, heading toward the lake, near the outskirts of town.
Taking a deep breath, she trudged down the steps of the building and silently crossed the street. Using her heightened senses, she moved quickly and quietly through the woods, following the footsteps she heard in the distance. As she got closer to whatever was making the noise, she heard shouting and howling, prompting her feet to move faster, silence be damned. Just as she entered the clearing, an overwhelming Alpha scent nearly knocked her over. And whoever he was, he was badly injured…he was dying.
YN stopped short at the sight that greeted her in the grassy field. Two vampires were closing on two men, no, two Alphas, and only one of them was still standing. Two dust piles just off to the left of the remaining adversaries, told YN that these two Alphas were good at this, but right now they needed help, and she had the ability to give that assistance.
Directing her energy to the two remaining enemies, she held out her hand. “Igneus imber!”
White hot flame shot down from the heavens and engulfed the two bloodsuckers, leaving everything else untouched. Then she ran over to the two Alphas, falling to her knees and flinging off her backpack so she could check for injuries. The unharmed Alpha’s green eyes were brimming with tears as he held the dying one. Wasting no time, she laid her hands on the injured Alpha’s chest and chanted in Latin.
“Sanitatem. Purifient. Sanitatem.”
The mark burned white, and her hands shone as the wounds began to heal. Blood pools vanished, his skin returned to normal color, and within minutes, the tall Alpha had regained consciousness. She stood back and watched as the two embraced. They were brothers, judging by their scent. The one with the green eyes stood, helped his brother up, then turned to YN, offering his hand in thanks.
“I don’t know how, but you saved my brother’s life. Thank you. I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam.”
YN took the hand that was offered. “YN, and I’m glad I was able to help. Even a minute later, and it could have been too late.” As she spoke, she glanced over at Sam, whose hazel eyes hadn’t left her since he woke. Then she watched the hazel change to gold, and felt hers change as well. Dean could only stare as the two stood facing each other.
“Omega! Maritus!”
YN’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Alpha! Maritus! Soulmate!”
Sam took her in his arms and said, “I tandem invenite. Quidnam esset visio quam habet umbris inquietari somnis.”
Then his lips were on hers, their bodies clinging to each other as the kiss deepened, hands wrapped around each other.
When the lip lock finally ceased, they just stared at each other, both trying to process what had just happened. YN was just as shocked as Sam, but her expression held a frown.
“How did you…wait, did you just say you saw me in your dreams?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what I said? I don’t even speak Latin except for exorcizing demons and reciting spells.”
YN pursed her lips together. “Actually, you said ‘I have finally found you. The vision that has haunted my dreams.’.”
Dean chose that moment to interrupt, taking note that both still had gold eyes. “So…what the heck just happened? Sammy? What’s going on?”
Sam looked over at his older brother, his cheeks turning pink. “I’d been having these weird dreams for about a week now. I didn’t say anything mostly because they were, um…” he cleared his throat as his pink cheeks turned beet red, “well…not for public discussion.”
YN giggled at the look on Dean’s face, then at her newly labeled soulmate’s state of embarrassment. She felt her own face grow warm under his gaze, as the hidden content of his dreams became clear to her.
Then the unthinkable happened, something neither Alpha nor Omega expected.
YN felt off, feverish, and it came suddenly, without warning. No, impossible…it wasn’t due for another two weeks! The herbal supplements had stopped working! She looked over at the two Alphas, both of whom had stopped laughing, and their expressions confirmed her deduction.
Her heat had come early.
Then she caught a whiff of something strong, it was euphoric, like walking into a bakery, all the sweet treats filling the air with mouth watering smells. The scent triggered her cramping, and she doubled over as the pain shot through her like a freight train. Sam had gone into rut, and it was unlike any she’d ever seen anyone experience, not even her father or brothers had that strong of a rut.
Sam radiated Alpha, and he was looking at YN like he was starving, and she was his next meal. Her panties grew damp as her mind painted rather erotic pictures of Sam taking her, his hard cock pounding into her, his knot filling her. Her cramps intensified, and she let out a cry of distress.
Sam turned to his brother. “Leave Dean. Now! Keep watch for other people.”
Dean opened his mouth to protest, but the looks exchanged between Sam and YN had him turning around and doing guard duty. Hell, if it wasn’t for Jo, he’d probably be fighting Sam for YN. Her essence was like wildflowers and honey, or fresh baked apple pie. God he really wished Jo was here right now. Focus Dean! Focus! Protect your brother and his Omega!
Sam reached for YN as soon as she was close, his lips crushing hers as his tongue pushed its way inside her mouth, seeking its mate. YN complied, the need so intense, nothing else mattered. Hands were removing clothing faster than lightning, then Sam was lifting YN up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and his glistening tip began pushing inside her slick. His cock bathed in her juices as he made his way inside, slowly so as not to hurt her. YN moaned as he filled her, ignoring the minor discomfort as pleasure took over.
Sam stopped momentarily, allowing her time to adjust, then he began to move. His large hands grabbed her thighs as he pushed her against a tree, pounding his hard shaft into her. YN’s first orgasm hit hard, her screams covered by his feverish kisses, and his growl as she clenched around him.
“Omega. I’m going knot you, then I’m gonna fill your belly with pups.” He whispered in her ear as he nipped along her neck. YN arched her head back as his mouth left her skin on fire.
“Alpha!” she exclaimed. Damn it all! Her body clenched around him as she came again. Sam reached his hand between them, seeking out her most sensitive bud, his thumb rubbing light circles around it. YN felt like she was exploding as she was swept overboard by another ripple of orgasmic bliss.
Dean, meanwhile, was trying desperately to ignore the moans and grunts, when he sensed danger. His senses on high alert, he quietly slipped through the trees, following the scent of two Alphas, and they were closing in on the clearing. They went two different directions, which was fine with Dean, he liked a challenge. He grinned, grateful for the distraction as he closed in on Alpha #1. He wasn’t going to kill them, just give them a nice nap. This one was young, not very bulky, so he presented as an easy target. He was out like a light in seconds.
The second, however, would prove more challenging. It didn’t seem difficult at first. Alpha #2 wasn’t much different than the first, though definitely older. Still younger than Dean by some years, but he was bulkier than the first had been, and that proved to be the kicker. Dean snuck up easily, but when he put the sleeper hold on, one of his specialities, the other turned and threw Dean against a tree. Dean growled as anger surfaced, and the second Alpha bared his teeth.
“Stay out of my way. This doesn’t concern you.”
Dean blinked in response, his eyes never leaving his target. “The hell it doesn’t. Walk away now, before you lose the ability to do so.”
It was the dark-haired Alpha’s turn to be surprised. “Look, I get it. She probably smells like heaven, but it isn’t happening. She’s coming home where she’ll be safe. So, last warning stud, BACK OFF!”
Dean’s voice echoed through the woods with laughter. “I ain’t gunning for her attention. Hell, I got me a fine Omega at home. What I am doing, though, is protecting the clearing from trespassers.”
The other Alpha raised a brow. “Trespassers eh? Well, since that’s my baby sister in there, you’re the trespasser.”
Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit.” He muttered.
The sounds of erotic moans and screams had both men taking off toward the clearing, just in time to witness Sam knotting YN against the nearest birch.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” YN’s brother’s eyes went red. “I’m gonna kill you! You just made a huge mistake.”
YN’s head shot around Sam’s and came face to face with her older brother. But before anything was said, she heard movement behind them.
FUCK!
“Sam, turn around! NOW!”
He did, and, as she suspected, her other sibling was charging. She raised her palm toward her twin. “VENTUS!”
35 notes · View notes
javocjovian · 4 years
Text
The Wendigo - PB Gift Exchange
Happy Exchange @maggiemaybe160​ !!!
I wrote this for this year’s Profound Bond Gift Exchange!!! The theme was ‘Masquerade’!
Title: The Wendigo Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522769 Ship: Destiel Word Count: 3568 Warnings: PTSD trauma, parental abuse trauma Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, past physical/emotional abuse, PTSD, Trauma, Injury, Healing, Happy Ending, Fluff, First Kiss, more Fluff, Supportive Sam Summary: Dean has a lot of baggage from his childhood. Castiel wants to help, if Dean will let him.
Beta-ed by @cozibizzle​
Tumblr media
The Wendigo
Dean was injured. Not enough to threaten his life, but certainly enough to gripe about, especially as it was making Sam fuss unnecessarily over him.
"Would you stop already? I'm fine," Dean snapped. He was sitting on a moth eaten couch in an old cabin—one of their dad's from a lifetime ago, or so it seemed. Dean's jacket sleeve was bloody and frayed, and he had snow in his hair. Sam and Dean were both flushed from the cold.
Sam glared at him incredulously. He tossed the first aid kit on the ground at Dean's feet and stalked away.
Dean felt a sick satisfaction at making Sam mad—it eased his own pain somewhat—but it didn't last. Shame washed over him as soon as Sam left the room, and the burning pain in his arm increased tenfold. Dean shut his eyes.
 Sam and Dean came to this cabin once when they were kids. John was hunting a wendigo, but it got away. When Sam and Dean heard about similar deaths happening in the same stretch of woods, they had to come.
At least the wendigo was finally dead, Dean thought. What was one burnt forearm compared to that? Hell, they even saved the girl this time. Dean would call that a win any day. He was just tired, in pain, and he'd never wanted a drink so badly in his life. He'd apologize to Sam later.
 A rush of wintry air blew Dean's thoughts away as the cabin door opened.
Dean looked up in surprise at the messy haired, trenchcoated figure of Castiel. He looked severe—although he always sort of looked like that.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, dropping his voice.
Castiel shut the door. "I got your message," he rumbled.
"Yeah, well, you're late," Dean grunted. "Party's over. We killed it."
Castiel looked Dean over. He didn't seem to have heard a word Dean said. He was staring at Dean's singed sleeve.
"The campers are fine, by the way," Dean added, but when Castiel only squinted harder at his arm, Dean sighed and added, "I'm good." He shifted his arm to prove it and doused the resulting pain with a rough smirk. "Why don't you go check on Sam?"
Dean could have kicked himself. Why did he have to be such an ass? He stared Castiel down, anything to avoid looking at the cabin.
Castiel seemed immune to Dean's rudeness, however. He strode over to the couch and sat down beside Dean. Despite feeling suddenly numb, the pain in Dean’s arm doubled when Castiel touched it.
Dean hissed, making Castiel look up. For a moment they made eye contact, and Dean felt his own gaze harden.
Castiel didn't flinch. He maintained his hold on Dean's arm and said, "Take off your jacket."
Dean eyed him, feeling a kick of defiance. What would happen if he refused? The impulse faded however, and he began taking off his jacket.
Castiel didn't help at all, even though Dean was sure he looked like an idiot trying to wiggle out of his jacket with only one functioning arm. It was cold in the cabin, but it felt good on his burned arm. Finally he was free and returned his arm to Castiel.
Castiel's hands were warm and surprisingly gentle as he rolled up Dean's sleeve. The burn was worse than Dean thought. He regretted pushing Sam away, and yet he knew he was doing it again to Cas by being so rude.
"Can you heal it?" Dean asked, only to break the silence.
"Yes," Castiel said softly. "But it will hurt."
 A sound from the hallway made both Dean and Castiel look over. Sam was watching them with what Dean thought was entirely too much understanding.
"Hello Sam," Castiel greeted him.
"Hey Cas," Sam replied, although his eyes were on Dean.
"What?" Dean grunted.
Sam sighed. "Nothing."
Dean glared at him, then at Cas, and said, "Just do it."
Castiel eyed Dean curiously, and Dean had to fight the urge to take his arm back. Why did Castiel have to look at him like that? It made Dean feel weak, and he didn't want that. Not there, in that cabin, with Sam's knowing gaze burning into his soul.
Without warning, pain shot up Dean's arm. The wintry air inside the cabin vanished, and it felt like all the bones in his arm had been replaced with white hot rods. He swore and grabbed onto the couch. Just as Dean was sure he would retch from the intensity of the pain, it was all over.
Dean leaned back on the couch, panting. "God dammit, Cas," he said weakly.
Something in Dean's voice made Castiel's gaze soften. Dean shut his eyes again and just focused on breathing.
It was only when Castiel shifted slightly that Dean realized he'd been gripping him, not the couch. Dean pulled his arm away reflexively. It didn't hurt anymore. He looked it over and was surprised to see his arm whole and intact. Fresh, white skin was stretched over the burn, which now looked several weeks old.
"That will fade with time. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."
Dean's expression softened. "It's good, Cas. Thanks." He flexed his hand, wishing Castiel would look somewhere else.
"Well, I'm turning in," Sam said quietly, an undeniable note of relief in his voice. "Do you want the bed, Dean?"
"No," Dean said a little too firmly.
Sam sighed again. "Alright, well, I say we head out in a few hours. Get some sleep. See you later, Cas."
"Goodnight, Sam," Castiel replied.
Dean didn't look at Sam as he walked into the back bedroom. He was gazing at the blue veins under his healed skin.
"So," Dean finally said, "are you gonna poof away now or what?"
Castiel looked surprised by the question, and it reignited Dean's shame.
"If you want me to," Castiel said simply.
Dean suddenly felt uncomfortable with himself. He couldn't stand sitting still. He got up and walked to the empty fireplace. He could feel Castiel's eyes on him as he examined an old iron poker.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"Is this you?"
Dean turned to see Castiel holding a picture frame. There was a circle of dust on the side table from where it had sat dormant for decades. The picture showed a young boy holding up a fishing line with a large bass on the end. He was glowing with pride.
Dean went numb again. It was a strangely calm feeling. He walked over to Castiel, took the picture out of his hands and placed it back on the table. His eyes were set.
Castiel stared at him. "Dean?"
"What, Cas?"
"Did something happen to you and Sam?" Castiel's brow furrowed.
Dean thought about the question for a while. Finally he walked back to the fireplace and said, "I told you, we hunted a wendigo.”
"But… you prayed for my help. Why?"
Dean didn't respond.
"You and Sam clearly handled it fine on your own. Why did you need me here?" Castiel sounded pensive.
Without the pain in Dean's arm, he could feel something else aching. Stinging. Trapping his body to the floorboards of the old cabin like a rock. Dean wished Castiel hadn't healed him. He felt shaky. He shouldn't have drank all the whiskey the night before.
"Dean."
"I told you."
"You told me you were hunting…" Castiel was starting to sound annoyed now, but Dean cut him off.
"...a wendigo." Dean turned to look at Cas. He knew he'd have to do it eventually. Dean watched as Castiel's annoyance turned to concern. Dean must have looked as exhausted as he felt.
Dean sighed and knelt down at the fireplace. He took some wood they'd collected earlier and began making a fire.
"We hunted a Wendigo, Cas. Fifteen years ago. It got away. So we came back here to finish the job," Dean said. His voice was gruff and worn. He could feel Castiel squinting at him.
"What happened?"
There was no point feigning ignorance. Dean balled up some newspaper and began stuffing it under the wood before continuing. "Dad took us here when we were kids," he explained. "Sam had been hunting for about a year, and I think the thrill had worn off. He didn't want to come. It pissed my dad off so much,” Dean smiled. “Sam, he… he was a natural." Dean paused to grab more newspaper. "I wasn't. I followed my dad's every rule, and still… I had to work twice as hard as Sam. So dad said, 'fine, stay here and pout' and he took me out into the woods, alone. Now I was pissed at Sam, too.” Dean struck a match slid it under the wood. “He was just… so different from dad and I. Without even trying. You know dad, he… he never disciplined Sam like he did me." For a moment it looked like Dean hadn’t meant to say it. He bent down and blew on the flames, causing smoke to rise in serpentine spirals between the logs. He kept fiddling with it until the papers were in flames. "So Dad and I went hunting the wendigo."
"But… you didn't find it?" Castiel asked carefully. He assumed a single wendigo wouldn't be able to escape two hunters, especially not John Winchester and his son.
Dean watched the embers slowly eat the newspapers, reflecting gold in his eyes. It was cold in the cabin. Dean could feel it on his arms and face, on his frostbitten nose and ears, but it felt like someone else’s body, and the warmth growing in front of him provided no relief.
"No, we found it." Dean said, then added, "I found it."
Dean could hear a silent question hanging in the air, but Castiel didn't say anything.
"The missing campers were there,” Dean said quietly, “Well, half of them, anyway. All dead, except one. The wendigo was eating her."
For a moment, only the sound of the crackling wood filled the cabin. Dean was inexpressibly grateful for the silence.
"She was still alive. She was just lying there… gurgling… staring at me. And I…" Dean watched the flames consume the last of the old newspaper—an article about a missing blonde haired girl. "She died like that. Staring at me. I had the flare gun, but I didn't…" Dean stopped.
Castiel looked at him. Dean was outlined by the glow of the fire, his face hidden in shadow. After a long silence, Dean spoke again. His voice was shaky—Castiel had never heard a more terrible sound.
"I froze," he said simply, "and the wendigo got away. God, dad was pissed." He gave a wounded laugh. "He came running and saw me standing there. I'd never seen him so mad."
Castiel frowned. "But you were just a child. Surely he didn't blame you."
"Oh, he blamed me. I let the thing go, Cas," Dean explained, but the certainty in his voice was hollow. He stared into the flames, absentmindedly rubbing his healed arm. "We burned the campers, or what was left of them. The girl, too. And when we got home," Dean smiled darkly, "Dad, he… he whooped my ass." He tried to laugh again but the sound came out like a cough. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, letting the orange light of the flames envelop him.
"He beat you?"
Dean nodded. "Yup. Worst one of my life. I couldn't aim a gun for a week."
"Does Sam know?" Castiel asked quietly.
Dean sighed. "Yeah. I mean, he was in the next room. He knew. Dad never laid a hand on Sammy, but…" Dean trailed off. He wiped his eyes with his palm. "It got better after that. Dad didn't… I mean, he found other ways of dealing with us." When Dean looked at Castiel, Castiel looked upset, hurt even. Dean thought he knew why. Dean got to his feet at last and brushed himself off. "The John you met, or watched, I guess, that wasn't my dad. The John who was destined to marry my mom, that wasn't my dad."
For some reason, it was these words that made Dean unable to go on. He shut his eyes, willing himself to keep steady. He would have given all the whiskey in the world to keep it together, but half of him wanted to stick his arm into the fire again and burn off the memory—burn off his fate, his curse.
It took a few minutes for Dean to collect himself, but finally he wiped his eyes and moved back to the picture frame on the side table. He picked it up. Etched on the back was a date some thirty years earlier. Castiel watched him sadly.
"This was the John you knew,” Dean told him. “The John he was supposed to be."
Dean was suddenly filled with the desire to throw the picture across the room. He wanted to know that satisfaction. To destroy it. To punish it. Instead he put the picture face down in the dust.
Despite everything that had happened at the hands of his father, the thought of John gave him strength enough to look at Castiel. Or maybe he just wanted to punish himself further. Either way, when his hazy green eyes met Castiel's blue seas, Castiel reached up and touched Dean's arm. Castiel hadn’t moved since Dean started talking. He’d barely said a word. But it seemed that Castiel was finally unable to stand by while Dean suffered alone.
Dean knew what about to happen seconds before Castiel touched him, but he didn't do anything to stop it. Castiel's warm, surprisingly gentle grip found Dean's arm, and Dean felt hot tears slide past his eyelashes, burning his frostbitten cheeks.
"You know…" Dean said, his voice choked, "The first thought I had when that girl looked at me? I was grateful.” He tried to laugh. “Grateful that Sam stayed behind. That I was the one who found the wendigo." Dean wiped his eyes with his free hand. He didn't know why he was still talking. Distantly he heard Castiel get up. "I was grateful that it was happening to me, and not Sam."
Dean looked at Castiel and, without a word, Castiel pulled him into his arms. Dean wanted to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there and sink into Castiel's embrace, but he couldn't move. He lowered his face into Castiel's shoulder and felt a warmth that no flames could provide. It pushed the cold off his skin, purging him of sin and putting him back in his body. He put his shaking arms around Castiel. For a moment, he felt no pain. His tears flowed freely but there was no shame. Dean knew what it meant, and he felt sick with himself. He wiped his eyes once more and pulled away.
"Cas… I can't," he said. He didn't expect Castiel to understand. He expected Castiel to look hurt. He expected to feel the guilt and shame he knew he deserved.
But Castiel did understand. He looked at Dean, still standing much too close to him, and asked, "Why not?"
Dean stared at him, unsure what to say even though he knew the answer. It was because he, too, was a wendigo, masquerading as the human being it once was. Consuming others to stay alive, letting people die just to hold onto that cursed life—Dean was no different. He knew his only relief, his only redemption, his fate, would be that of fire and brimstone.
At last, Dean rasped, "Because you deserve better."
Castiel looked so tired and incredulous that it reminded Dean of Sam. "Dean," he said firmly, "I don't want better. And neither should you."
Dean wanted to sink back into Castiel's warmth, even if it felt like condemning Castiel to his own fiery curse.
"Dean."
Dean looked at him and his mind went blank. It was bliss. He knew it was selfish, it was wrong, but he'd never wanted anything so badly in his life. He felt Castiel’s hand move down his arm. He felt Castiel’s fingers intertwine with his. Castiel was so close his nose could have brushed against Dean’s.
“If you and Sam have taught me anything,” Castiel whispered, “it’s that people don’t often get what they deserve. You didn’t deserve any of that. You don’t deserve the fate you’ve been given.” Castiel’s eyes were like a whirlpool, capturing Dean’s and not letting them go. “You deserve to be happy,” Castiel said firmly. “So… if you tell me what you want, I’ll give that to you. I want… I want you to be happy.”
Castiel’s gaze felt like an endless ocean, washing over Dean. After what seemed like a lifetime of silence, Dean nodded. He gripped Castiel’s hand and leaned against him, taking comfort in their closeness. "Okay."
Castiel looked relieved, and Dean knew that he understood that answer when he felt Castiel take him by the hand. Dean was grateful he didn’t have to say more. Together they sat on the couch, the glow of the flames dancing over them, and Castiel took Dean into his arms. Dean was surprised at how readily he succumbed to it. It was like coming home. He leaned into Castiel and closed his eyes. Castiel kissed Dean's head, and Dean felt an inhuman warmth flood him. He didn't think he'd ever known anything like it. It was like basking in a warm sea, each wave another beat of Castiel’s heart.
 Dean didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke up he thought he was dead. He was enveloped in such warmth and comfort that he couldn't possibly be alive. There was no pain, only the heavenly smell of Castiel’s familiar musk and the feeling of his body breathing gently against Dean’s. Surely this couldn’t be Earth—This couldn’t be a place where demons and monsters roamed and where Dean hunted them.
It was only the realization that they were covered in a blanket, and that neither of them had gotten up to get a blanket, that told Dean he had to still be alive. Sure enough, as he came to he heard Sam packing up the Impala outside.
 It was light out and the fire had burned itself to embers, glowing faintly through the lumps of blackened wood like a burnt corpse.
Dean and Castiel had slept through the night, far longer than a few hours, yet Sam hadn't woken them. He’d put a blanket over them. It was a musty, old blanket with holes, but he knew it was the best Sam could find.
Dean felt Castiel stir. Castiel opened his bleary eyes to look at him, and Dean felt himself smile. He didn’t feel like speaking yet, so he kissed Castiel's cheek. Castiel didn't move away or say anything, but Dean felt Castiel smile. They lay like that, cheek to cheek, both awake but not speaking, just laying in each other’s arms.
The front door opened and Sam came inside from the cold. There was no mad scramble to get up, but Dean felt himself go red in the face despite the fire being out.
"Hey," Sam greeted them, his voice gentle and earthly. "I got everything packed up so… whenever you're ready."
Dean could tell Sam was eager to leave the cabin, but suddenly Dean didn't feel the same way.
Dean looked over at Sam. "Thanks, Sammy."
Sam paused, taken aback. Dean hadn't called him that in a while. Sam looked between Dean and Castiel's tousled heads and smiled, and Dean knew he was forgiven. Hell, if Sam was still with him, ready to kill wendigos and fight their fate, maybe Castiel would be alright, too.
Sam walked back outside to let Dean and Castiel get ready to leave. It was cold in the cabin without the fire, but Castiel was like a beacon of warmth, always a few inches from Dean. They didn’t speak much, but the silence was nice, Dean thought.
When Dean was ready to go, he asked, “Are you going to…”
“‘Poof away’?” Castiel smiled slightly.
Dean smiled back.
“Do you want me to?”
Dean’s smile softened. “No.”
Castiel stepped closer to Dean, looking relieved again. “Then I won’t.”
Dean knew Castiel would have been happy to just stand close to Dean forever, but Dean suddenly found himself wanting more. He leaned in and, when Castiel didn’t back away, when they were so close they could taste each others’ breath, Dean kissed him.
Dean wouldn’t have believed Castiel’s lips could be so soft. Castiel kissed him back, feeling Dean’s lips gently, curiously, and Dean felt all of his fears and insecurities wash away. The cabin was suddenly warm again and Dean’s mind drifted pleasantly into space.
It was over all too soon, but neither were in any rush to go anywhere. Dean hovered over Castiel’s lips, breathing in his scent.
Finally, Dean smiled. “There’s room in the Impala. If your wings are tired, this is.”
Castiel smiled back. “They are. Very tired.”
Dean chuckled softly. He put his arm on Castiel’s back and walked out of the cabin with him. The winter’s day was bright and tranquil. The woods were free of wendigos and more beautiful than Dean had ever realized. His boots crunched over wet, melting snow, burying the ash and rubble from many decades ago.
5 notes · View notes