#also the way he often tries to make himself smaller when dean hugs him…i’m so normal about this

[hops-hunny]

Temptation

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x McGonagall!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: “Could you maybe do a Neville x reader where the reader is McGonagall's grandchild?”

Summary: Neville had never experienced temptation, till it walked by him in a pleated skirt.

Warnings: Suggestive thoughts???

A/N: I won’t even lie, this was very self indulgent. I didn’t mean to write this much but oh well! Also I noticed I read the prompt wrong and wrote this for fem reader so I apologize anon. I still hope you can find joy in this!

Temptation. Temptation was a word Neville knew well. He had heard it many upon many times. From his peers, and even some of his teachers. However, he never really understood what it felt like to experience it, to have it coursing through his very being. Well, that was until it came knocking on his door or, to put it more precisely, walking by him in a (y/h/h) robe and vanilla-lavender perfume. He didn’t expect it to have such a beautiful laugh and he certainly didn’t expect it to be McGonagall's granddaughter! No matter how many times he had heard it described to him and how many times he had heard the feeling be recited to him like one of those shit muggle pop songs, it still didn’t prepare him for the real experience itself.

Could she be anymore perfect? Anymore graceful, anymore well, tempting? She was the kind of beauty that he read about in books and the kind of beauty he saw when he looked at all the flowers that bloomed within the greenhouse. He watched, observing her beauty as she walked. His face flushed softly as he saw her eyes light up, head facing straight ahead and shoulders held high unaware of his eyes of adoration upon her. His gaze was then shifted to her hair. The way the light reflected off of the (h/c) strand made his heart race! Next was one of his favorite things, her smile. Her smile was enough to brighten anyone's day! Well...it most certainly brightened his that is. His eyes fixated on her legs, the soft sheen they held. ‘God they look smooth, like the softest of pillows, the smoothest of silks, the fluffiest, puffiest of clouds. I bet the-’ he was broken out of his thoughts as she came to a stop in front of her grandmother which made him a bit queasy to his stomach. If only McGonagall new about his thoughts...wait did she? She could be using legilimency on him this very moment and he’d have no clue. What if she was, what if she-

He jumped, squeaking softly as a hand came down hard on his shoulder causing his body to tense. And his gaze to shift to the source of the force relaxing when he saw it was Dean. 

“Hey Nev, what are you doing just standing here? Oh I see what it is!” He exclaimed smiling at his lanky friend, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between in front of him and back to himself. Neville gulped, tugging at his sleeves a bit as his shirt suddenly began to feel constraining.

“Y-you do?” he asked nervously. His throat began to feel smaller. The problem with Neville’s little…’temptation’ was that he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had feelings for people before. He had his fair share of crushes throughout the year. But she was different. See, he wasn’t the first one to notice how beautiful the girl was. Heavens no! Quite a few of his peers had noticed just how breathtaking (Y/n) was but once they saw the last name that was attached to her, that was more than enough to turn them the other way. However, the connection to her grandmother not only put up an invisible force field for suitors, but friends as well. He found himself feeling sorry for her often, he could only imagine how lonely she was. 

“Yeah, I do. You were waiting for me to find you so you could help me with my herbology homework! Man Nev, you’re such a good friend.” he said. Neville rolled his eyes noticing all of Dean’s missing coursework for herbology within his hands. As much as he loved his friend, he also couldn’t deny how unbelievably idiotic he was. Although he was disappointed in how irresponsible he was, he was also relieved he hadn’t noticed what had actually had him standing there lost in his thoughts. “Oh and I also saw you staring at McGonagall junior. I don’t blame you mate, she’s bloody fit. Have you seen her in that skirt she wears to Hogsmeade? It makes me just wanna-” Neville smacked his friend on the back again ignoring his groan of protest. He began to walk off leaving Dean confused. Neville noticed the lack of his friend's presence near him causing him to turn around.

“Do you want help with your herbology work or not?”

-----------

(Y/n) sat with Luna in the courtyard, watching as her friend picked at the wildflowers twisting them and molding them into a flower crown. She sighed once again as she continued to ramble onto her. “I don’t know Lu, he’s just so cute! I wouldn’t even know how to approach him. Besides, he probably wants someone from his own house and year, yknow?” She said as she glanced at her preoccupied friend. “Are you even listening to me?” she huffed frustratedly. Luna looked at her, rolling her eyes at her a bit.

“You’re only a year below us (Y/n), you talk about him as if he’s an old man! Besides, the whole different house thing would only matter to him if he was a Slytherin. Neville doesn’t care about little things like that.” she took the completed crown placing it on her friend’s head as she smiled at her. “Yknow, for someone at the top of your year you’re quite daft.” Luna said nonchalantly, causing her friend’s eye to twitch. One thing (Y/n) would never get quite used to is her friend’s ability to tell people the truth as if it were nothing. Luna squeezed the girl’s soft (s/c) hand before smiling at her. “Besides, you’re beautiful! If he doesn’t want you, I know there are plenty of guys who most certainly do!” (Y/n) felt herself get quite shy at her friend’s words, rubbing at the goosebumps that were forming on her arm. But, she was right. She couldn’t let her thoughts of if or if not a guy liked her get her down. 

“Hey (Y/n), have you ever, yknow, actually tried TALKING to the guy?” Ginny asked, smacking on the taffy she had been eating. The (e/c) eyed girl felt herself getting flustered once again.

“W-well, the short answer is no. Don’t look at me like that! I’ve TRIED. Every time I try something comes up! I’m either almost late to class, one of his friend’s comes up to him, or I have to do something for my Nan! It’s a lot harder trying to talk to someone when you don’t have any classes with them..” she said as she began to pout, reminded of her failed attempts to speak to the awkwardly charming boy. Ginny popped another taffy in her mouth, processing her friend's words before smirking a bit.

“Just leave it to me, I have the perfect plan! Don’t you worry a single little hair on that pretty head of yours.” she said, causing both of her friends to side eye her both with the same thought in mind: ‘Oh Merlin, what is she thinking now?’

---------------

Well, what Ginny had been thinking wasn’t too bad but, (Y/n) was still quite nervous as she sat here. She was thankful Ginny hadn’t trapped them in a 1 on 1 situation or did something fucking stupid such as locking them in the room of requirement together. No, instead she had gathered her and Neville’s shared group of friends and decided to have a picnic together whilst everyone else was at Hogsmeade. Luna had asked the house elves to spare some of the extra food they had from lunch which they gave to her kindly considering how sweet she was to them always. 

Even though all of their friends were there, she still found herself being nervous which is why she still sat on the blanket with Hermione as Ron, Harry, and Dean picked on Neville lightheartedly by splashing him with water, Ginny and Luna challenged each other to different swim challenges, and Hermione read a book, relaxing comfortably under the shade of the tree. She sighed to herself, hugging her legs closer to her chest as she brought her face to rest upon her knees. She let her eyes wander back to Neville, a smile gracing her face as she observed him. She never got the time to just watch him in a natural environment. Every time she saw him, he was always so jumpy or nervous, awkwardly engaging in conversation with people who usually just wanted herbology help or needed advice on how to care for their plants. But now, watching as he smiled and laughed with their friends she realized just how infatuated with him she truly was. She took in the way his hair looked wet, his usually wavy hair drooped, water dripping from the strands. She smiled, noticing the way his crooked smile looked when he was his happiest. She began to get flustered noticing the way his arms had a bit of definition to them which (Y/n) could only assume came from all the heavy lifting he did for Professor Sprout in the greenhouse.

“You should join him. Sitting there and wondering what could be isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” (Y/n) gasped a little, whipping her head around quickly to look at her friend whose eyes were still fixated on the book in her hand, flipping the pages delicately.

“H-how did yo-”

“How did I know? You’re so predictable. Plus, you’re a little chatterbox. The only time you shut up is when you look at him.” Hermione giggled, finally peering at her friend over her book. She closed it and set it down on the blanket before taking off her cover up. She held a hand down to her friend. “Well, are you coming?” (Y/n) looked up at her friend, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought about it before nodding, letting Hermione pull her up. She began to take off her own cover up before taking a deep breath. She looked at her friend and they began walking towards the lake.

“I’ve never seen ‘Mione in a swimsuit before. She looks...like a girl.” Ron said to his friends as they watched the two girls near the lake. His friends all responded in some form of agreement. He turned to look at Neville, smirking as he saw him staring at the girls. “It looks like you agree don’t you, Nev?” Neville shook his head, a light blush coating his cheeks. Unknown to his friends he wasn’t looking at Hermione though, he was looking at her. 

“Yeah, she’s quite beautiful.” This didn’t go unnoticed by Ginny though who smirked, deciding to turn things up a notch.

“Hey, why don’t we all play some chicken? There’s enough of us!” Ginny said, beginning to walk over to the guys with Luna not too far behind her. “Unless you guys are scared, you know I’m the chicken champion so I wouldn’t be surprised if you w-”

“Don’t be ridiculous Gin! You know for a fact I’m way better than you, I proved that when you came to my place last summer.” (Y/n) said giggling at her overly confident friend. She tried sneaking a glance at Neville but found she had been caught in the act as Neville was already staring at her. She looked away quickly rubbing the back of her neck. Wait, why was Neville already looking at her?

 She shook herself out of her thoughts as they all began to pair off for chicken. The (h/c) haired girl went to approach one of her friends but found that Ginny and Harry already paired. She quickly tried turning to Hermione who made her way over to Ron. She sent one last pleading glance Luna’s way but the girl simply smiled at her before walking over to Dean. She felt her heart race at what she already suspected to happen. “I-I guess it's us, Nev.” she felt herself growing a bit insecure at having to sit on the boy’s shoulders. Although she was short, she didn’t have as small of a frame as her other friends did. “L-listen Neville, if I’m too heavy or too much for you to lift don’t even worry about it! I have no problem bei-”

With all the courage Neville could muster, he took a deep breath diving under water before rising up with the girl on his shoulder as his large hands gripped at her thighs making sure she was sturdy on his shoulders. She shrieked a bit at the unexpected gesture, gripping at his hair a bit. Holy shit was his heart racing. Had he really just done that? What had gotten into him? ‘Don’t back down, Nev! Say something cool, say something cool!!’ 

He cleared his throat some, before patting her thigh with his hand. “You’re fine. Y-you don’t weigh much of anything.” He said. She felt herself relax some, hoping he couldn’t feel the goosebumps on her thighs. However, Neville’s thoughts were far from the goosebumps. He couldn’t help himself from thinking that they were just as soft as he had imagined them to be. He was in deep and he knew it. “L-l-listen (Y/n), I-”

“Alright who’s going first? Me vs ‘Mione maybe? Come on Harry, move faster!” Ginny said. (Y/n) found herself trying to stifle a giggle at the sight before her. Ginny was tugging at Harry’s hair and yelling at the boy as he argued back. She couldn’t contain herself at the sight, she began to laugh trying to make sure she didn’t fall off Neville’s shoulders at the movement. 

Neville however was so entranced at that sound. He found himself wanting to be the person to cause that melodic giggle to come from her every time. “They’re so cute aren’t they?” she asked as he hummed in agreement. “I’d love to have something like that.” she mumbled to herself, however Neville had heard.

-------------------------------

Ginny was on a win streak, she had beaten Luna and Dean, and Hermione and Ron. She was feeling confident as she banged on her chest cheering which reminded (Y/n) of a muggle movie her aunt once showed her. She had been absentmindedly petting Neville’s hair, running her fingers through it as she swirled it around her fingers. He hadn’t minded though, his face was flushed a bright pink and he was much too scared to say anything, worried that if he did he would end up waking up in his bed and it all would’ve been a dream. He heard his favorite voice pull him out of his thoughts.

“We’re up next Nev, think we’ll win?” she asked as she leaned over, her face appearing in front of his upside down. He jumped a bit, pulling his face back and tightening his grip on her legs.

“C-careful (Y/n!) You might fall if you’re not!” he said, staring into her eyes. God were they beautiful.

“I doubt it, I’ve got you holding me up. I trust ya, you wouldn’t let me fall.” she said giggling as she leaned back up, her lips accidentally brushing against his nose and forehead on the way back up which has caused both of them to freeze up and a silence to fall upon the two. Their eyes both watched as Luna fell off of Dean’s shoulders again as Ginny cheered at another victory.

“But to answer your question, I think we’ve got this in the bag! Let’s do this!” He said as he waded over to them. She smiled at his enthusiasm as they looked over at them. She looked over at Luna who gave her a wink causing her to grow shy once more. 

“Ah a new challenger approaches!” Ron exclaims, his eyes drifting to the pair. Neville glared at Ron a bit when his eyes lingered on the girl above him’s figure for just a tad too long before he cleared his throat.

“We’re gonna kick your ass, Gin! Prepare to get that gorgeous red hair of yours soaked! Isn’t that right, Neville?” She asked looking down at his head as he nodded along. “Consider this a rematch to last summer. I’ve come to snatch my crown right from off your head.” she said placing an invisible crown done on her head laughing as Ginny scoffed at her actions.

“Bring it on (y/h/h)!” She said as Harry began to walk over to her. The two girls both began to approach each other with looks of determination in their eyes. Neville let his eyes wander to the water watching the girl’s actions through the water.

“Beautiful..” he muttered in awe as he gazed upon her affectionately. Although he was nervous, he was even more so nervous of letting her down. He tightened his grip on her plush thighs as a determined expression made its way to his face. 

Ginny and (Y/n) both began pushing and tugging at each other trying to get each other to fall. And (Y/n) did have to admit, it was no easy feat considering how tone Ginny was from quidditch practice and how out of shape she was herself from all those late night cake sessions with the house elves but it didn’t deter her at all. She continued to push and shove at Ginny. If she could only get a better grip...she didn’t have that much time to do so as the redhead girl gave a particularly hard push causing the girl to almost topple over. Almost being the key word. Neville gripped at her a bit harder at her as she went backwards causing her to fling forward with quite a bit of force. Using said force to her advantage, the (y/h/h) girl was able to push Ginny, sending her and Harry falling in. They both cheered Neville spinning around with her as they laughed before he felt something tug his leg sending them both flying into the water.

Neville resurfaced, spluttering a bit as he shook his head a bit. “Sod off, Harry! You’re a sore loser!” He exclaimed laughing with his friend. He turned to his side remembering the (h/c) girl. He watched as she resurfaced and took a gasp of air. His breath hitched as he watched the way she pushed her hair back, chest on display behind her swimsuit. God was she gorgeous.. He shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing some of her hair behind her ear that she had managed to miss. He watched as she looked away from him shyly muttering a soft thank you towards him.

They went at it for a bit more, the girls all determined to at least win one round. At some point, Ginny even put Harry on her shoulders and as it turned out, he was way worse at chicken than she was. Even Luna had somehow managed to beat him. But as they all went on, the group grew hungry and decided as the sun would be setting soon, it’d be a good idea to eat like they originally planned. They all gathered around on the large gingham blanket and once again, her friends turned against her leaving the only spot available for her next to Neville. However, unlike last time she decided to take full advantage of the situation. She feigned a shiver, catching his attention as she hoped. 

“A-are you cold, (Y/n)?” He asked, eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, just a bit Nev!” she smiled back at him, popping another grape into her mouth. Neville looked at her blankly for a bit before deciding to give into his temptation. See, the thing with Neville wasn’t that he was scared. No, in fact he had had his fair share of flings during his time at Hogwarts unbeknownst to his friends. It's just, she was different. He made his heart race in different ways and gave him goosebumps on his arms and back. She made his brain short circuit from the mere sight of her. However, he knew she would not be single forever. He wasn’t oblivious to the lingering looks his friends had been given her throughout the night and he certainly wasn’t going to stay in the same lane as them. So, without a second thought he grabbed her with ease sitting her in his lap, the soft skin of her waist meeting the soft skin of his arms as he pulled her into his chest. (Y/n) felt her breath hitch slightly, as her own set of goosebumps started to form.

“Is that better?” Neville whispered softly to her as his chin came to rest on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, her lips slightly brushing against his freckled cheek due to their close proximity. Instead of responding, she simply nodded still in a state of shock. Was this really happening? Her (e/c) eyes came to meet Ginny’s who simply smirked, sending her a wink before she went back to her conversation with Harry. None of her friends seemed that shocked at the position they were in. (Y/n) found herself a mix between relieved and offended that no one was surprised.

Although (Y/n) hadn’t noticed anything, the clenched fist and furrowed brows of his own friends did not go unnoticed. He felt himself smile internally, Neville 1 and the others 0. He caressed her skin lightly as if she was made of the finest of porcelain that would break from even a bit of pressure. The Gryffindor boy felt a surge of confidence within himself as goosebumps formed under his fingertips. He was knocked from his thoughts as a ripe strawberry was pressed against his lips, turning his attention to the (h/c) haired girl. He slowly took a bite from it, pink lips wrapped around the red fruit. He hummed constantly as he pulled away. (Y/n) moved back slightly to look at him, giggling at his red stained lips as the juice rolled down his chin a bit.

“Hey, you’ve got a bit of..” she trailed off giggling more as she motioned towards the juice. “One second, I’ll get it for you.” she murmured, reaching for a napkin. Neville pulled her back causing her to give him a confused look.

“No need.” he whispered, pulling her forward, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was a mix of everything at once. Passion. Hesitance. Desire. And oh, he couldn’t forget his little friend: temptation. He pulled her closer, settling his large hands at the base of her spine right about her rear as hers wrapped around his neck. The girl’s fingers twirled the hair at the bottom of his head trying to distract her from the tingling sensation she felt all over. Neville nibbled at her lip a bit, biting it as he pulled away. “T-this is probably the wrong time to ask but, are you seeing anyone?”

-------------------------

The next week, Neville found himself in that same spot in the hallway that he was in the previous monday. His thoughts drift to the angel known as his vice, his temptation. He watched as her smooth legs made their way down the hall, smile on her face as per usual. However, this time he didn’t have to crave to be the one those eyes were lighting up at. He didn’t have to crave to be the one that oh so beautiful smile was caused by, because he was. He held his arms open with a smile, stumbling back a bit as the (y/h/h) jumped in his arms. He caught her, twirling her around as they both laughed before he placed her on the ground grabbing her hand. Neville placed a peck upon her cheek, nothing but adoration in his eyes. He gulped slightly, sweaty palms as they walked by McGonagall but he found himself relaxing when she sent a wink his way as she gave him a smile of approval.

Although temptation had originally showed itself on his doorstep as a visitor in his home, it eventually developed into something more and became a welcome resident in his home. Temptation was no longer temptation, it was love.

#Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom x you #neville x y/n

[samsexualdeancurious]

Minima Forma Syreni

Pairing: None

Words: 1,669

Summary: Gabriel has a new "pet."

Warnings: Tiny Mer!Dean, sentient beings being kept as pets.

Written for @threshie and inspired by this adorable piece she drew.

Betaed by @mrsimoshen

---

The water tastes all wrong.

Dean had done a quick lap around his strange invisible cage when he first woke but now he’s hiding the best he can - which is, not hiding very well at all. There’s not much in the cage beyond water and the bizarre round pebbles. Dean knows immediately that the few strands of seaweed waving in the slight current aren’t real. There’s a thing that looks like a clam but feels all wrong and Dean can smell that there’s nothing living inside.

He first tried to burrow into the pebbles but quickly discovered that it was impossible. They’re too heavy and he has to move them one-by-one, which is not practical. So now he’s curled against the pretend clam, face buried in his arms and tail tucked in close. He can feel the prick of tears in his eyes and doesn’t fight them, letting them escape into the weird-tasting water.

--

Castiel can’t believe what he’s seeing.

The creature is tiny, maybe about five or six inches long - Cas can’t quite tell with the way he’s curled against the side of a plastic clam shell, face hidden by his arms and mottled green-brown tail tucked in tight against his body. He may be minuscule but Cas would know that shake of shoulders anywhere. The little creature is crying.

“Gabe,” he sighs, straightening up from where he’d bent down to get a closer look.

Gabe is sitting at his desk, feet kicked up. “Isn’t he adorable? The dealer said he should open up soon and even swim around a little bit.”

Cas sighs and glares at his brother.

“What?” Gabe shrugs, putting his feet down. “You told me to get a pet. Something about it ‘teaching me responsibility’?”

“I meant a dog,” Cas grumbles, turning a pitying look back to the tiny being at the bottom of Gabe’s new aquarium.

“Dogs are nice but I definitely couldn’t handle one.”

“A cat, then. Not…” he gestures.

“A miniature mermaid?” Gabe rises and rounds the desk to peek at the latest addition to his household.

“Minima forma syreni,” Castiel says, crossing his arms. “Did you do any research?”

“Didn’t need to,” Gabe replies. “The dealer was really knowledgeable. Gave me a whole list of things to make sure Tiny lives a comfortable, happy life. I haven’t gotten all the things for his tank yet - they’re coming in the mail tomorrow. I think he’ll really like things once it’s all set up.”

“Tiny,” Cas echoes. “Yes, he probably would like some better places to hide. Can’t you see the poor thing is terrified? Look at him, he’s crying.”

Gabe frowns, shooting Cas a puzzled look. “Why would he be crying?”

“Because minima forma syreni are only different from regular syreni in size.” Cas rubs a hand over his face. “Which you would know if you’d bothered to do any research or even just asked me, your brother, the marine biologist and local mermaid expert.”

Gabe’s mouth drops open in a soft “oh.” He turns to look at “Tiny” again with new eyes.

“I’m such an asshole,” he says after a long moment.

“Do you know where the dealer got him from?” Cas asks.

“He said it was that little cove on the north end of Bridal Beach,” Gabe answers. “Apparently there’s a whole school that migrates there in the warmer months.”

Cas knows the spot. He’s never seen miniature mermaids there but he also hasn’t really looked. “It’s still warm. His family may still be there.”

Gabe straightens up. “Let’s get him home, then.”

--

Dean peeks out from his arms when he hears a soft tap tap. His heart leaps into his throat at the sight of a giant face outside his cage. Blue eyes are looking at him, watching, and while the size of the two-fin is terrifying, something in those eyes is soothing.

“We’re going to get you out,” the two-fin says, voice distorted by the water. Dean perks up at the words. How does the two-fin know his language? Dean doesn’t allow himself to wonder for long, thoughts immediately shifting to more important things like the idea that he’ll get to see Sam again. He’s not going to die in this strange invisible cage. “We’re going to take you home.”

Home, Dean mouths, lifting off the fake clam with a small flick of his tail.

The two-fin nods, smiling. “Home.”

--

Cas manages to coax the syreni into a smaller container for transportation. Dean, he knows now. Poor thing is terrified and missing his family, especially his little brother. He’d balked from the travel fish tank but then steeled himself at the reminder of where they were going - home. Home to Sam.

Now Dean has tucked himself into one corner of the container, hiding from Gabriel with Castiel’s hand where it’s curled around the plastic. Occasionally, though, he pops up to the surface to ask Castiel questions in the soft chirping language of the smallest syreni. It’s mostly variations of “how much longer?” but Dean also wants to know how and why Castiel knows their language. Cas is more than happy to talk to him, simultaneously keeping Dean distracted and practicing the language. He even learns a few new words.

It’s getting late by the time they arrive at the beach and there aren’t that many people around. Cas leads the way to the cove, Dean’s container clutched tightly in both hands as he picks his way along the rocky path. Gabe follows at a slower pace, clearly still feeling bad. Dean becomes more active the nearer to the water they get.

“They’re going to be in hiding,” Dean says as they walk. “But maybe I can get Sam to come and say hi?”

“I would like that,” Cas replies. “But he doesn’t have to if he’s not comfortable.”

Dean is nodding, eyes locked on the water as it finally comes into view. Cas picks up the pace, kicking off his shoes and socks as he goes, and is soon crouching at the water’s edge with the waves lapping gently at his toes.

“Here you go,” he says softly, popping the lid off and lowering the container fully into the water to allow Dean to swim out. His heart swells at the happy little twists and flips Dean does before coming up to float on the surface with his eyes closed. “Feel good?”

“The best feeling,” Dean tells him. “That other water was all wrong.”

Cas smiles. “Go find your family. I’ll be here.”

Dean nods and, with one flick of his tail, he’s gone.

Cas moves to sit where his feet can still be in the water but his butt won’t get wet. Gabe sits beside him, knees folded to his chest.

“I’m an asshole,” Gabe says quietly.

“You didn’t know.”

“Yeah but I should’ve researched. I should’ve at least asked you.”

“Hindsight,” Cas says with a shrug. “You allowed me to remedy things and bring Dean home. We’ll stop by a shelter on the way back to your house and see what we can find. Unless you want a fish. You’ve got a decent-sized saltwater tank set up now. You could get one or two small saltwater fish to start with and upgrade your tank in the future if you want more.”

“Some saltwater fish would be cool,” Gabe acquiesces. “But I wouldn’t mind stopping by the shelter even if it’s just to pet the puppies.” Cas smiles. “I’m sure the puppies wouldn’t mind.”

--

As expected, Dean’s family is all hidden in the deepest parts of the cove. He finds them easily enough, though. After all, he knows what to look for. It isn’t long before he reaches the first patrol and finds a familiar face.

“Dean!”

Sam more collides with than hugs him, large body knocking his big brother back a couple of tail strokes when they meet.

“You’re home,” Sam mumbles, clinging to Dean with his whole being.

Dean wraps his arms around Sam, holding him close in a way he hasn’t done often since Sam reached adulthood. “Told ya not to worry about me.”

Sam shakes his head, pulling back a little to meet Dean’s gaze. He looks tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping well in the handful of weeks since Dean was captured. “We thought you were gone forever. How did you escape the two-fins?”

“I had some help. C’mon! There’s someone I think you should meet.”

--

They end up sitting in silence for another twenty minutes before a tiny head pops out of the water. Cas is laying down and doesn’t see but Gabe does.

“Cas, they’re back!” he says excitedly.

Cas sits up and it surprised but overjoyed to see not one but two small heads bobbing with the waves.

“Dean?” he calls, scooting closer to the water.

“Cas!” Dean swims closer, reaching out to grab one of Cas’s fingers and use it to stay put despite the waves. Another syreni is tentatively following him. This one is longer than Dean with a similar mottled pattern on his tail, this time in red and brown. His brown hair is long and pulled back. Dean grabs his hand, drawing him closer. “Cas, this is Sam. My brother. Sam, this is Cas and his brother Gabe. Cas helped me get home.”

Sam is gazing up at Cas with wide eyes. He waves.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas says with a smile. “Dean’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet.”

Sam nods, clinging tight to Dean’s hand.

“I’m glad you found your family,” Castiel tells Dean. “It’s getting late, so Gabe and I have to get going. Will you be staying in the cove much longer?”

“Until the seasons begin to change.” Dean gives Cas’s finger a gentle tug. “But we’ll be back. You better come visit when we’re here. Maybe next time you can meet the rest of my family.”

Cas smiles. “See you soon, then.”

Dean and Sam wave a quick goodbye before disappearing under the waves once more.

---

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @laughing-at-the-darkness @books-and-icecream @imsuperawkward @tumbler-tidbits

#my writing #supernatural #general #mer!Sam #mer!dean #threshie

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Picture Perfect

Title: Picture Perfect Request:  Can I request a Cas x reader imagine where instead of Mary getting stuck in the Apocalypse world, the reader gets stuck instead. But their time in the Apocalypse world is very traumatic and when they’re rescued (and let’s pretend Michael doesn’t get to their world), everyone tries to help them recover but they only get worse and they have severe hallucinations so they run away and Cas barely manages to convince them to come back. Like major angst with a bit of fluff at the end? -anonymous, and Since you said you need fic inspiration, can you write a Cas x reader fic where the reader loves taking Polaroids and takes one of Cas? -anonymous Pairing: Castiel x Reader Warnings: PTSD, angst, mentions of torture, angst, canon-typical violence, angst, oh did i mention angst?? Word Count: 4,042

note; hey hey this request rly inspired me so i hope u like it!! also i changed it from hallucinations to more of a flashback because that’s just how the story kinda flowed, hope that’s okay! hope u enjoy!

“Cas! Over here!”

The angel turned just as you snapped the photo, capturing the confusion etched into his brow and the puzzled squint of his eyes. You grinned as the camera spat out the polaroid, and you shook it absentmindedly as Cas walked across the room and sat next to you.

“What is it?” he asked, and you showed him the photograph as the picture slowly developed. It wasn’t saturated yet - just a faint, grey hint of Castiel’s face peeking through the bleeding shadows.

“A polaroid! I got this the other day, and thought my first photo should be of something I love,” you informed him cheerfully, holding out your camera to him as you explained. A small smile pulled at his lips as he took the camera from your hands, turning it over curiously in his own.

“Perhaps I can take one of you, as well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and you ducked your head abashedly as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I gue-” Your response was cut off by the click of the camera. “Hey!” you protested, though you couldn’t restrain the laugh that bubbled from your lips. You clambered into his lap, feeling his arms circle your waist as you snatched the photo from him, wincing as it developed.

“You could’ve given me some warning!” you scolded. “I look horrible!”

“I think you look beautiful,” Castiel informed you, tone solemn despite the smile playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but return it before you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his. His body curved around you, his skin warm on your own as his tongue sought yours. He tasted of rain and smelt of the forest as you leaned into him, melting into his embrace as the world around you seemed to crumble away…

Castiel swallowed as he stared down at the polaroid in his hand, his grip so tight the edges were crinkling beneath his knuckles. His jaw was taut as he set it back in the scrapbook in front of him, sealing it down with tape that had long since lost its grip. It had been your idea to make it - the black leather book was packed with polaroids the two of you had taken during your time together, secured to the pages with peeling masking tape and embellished with pressed leaves and flowers twisting through the empty space. The date each photo was taken was carefully printed at the top of the page in black ink.

The angel carefully placed the book back on your desk - the spine was worn from his opening it so often, and the last thing he wanted was for it to fall apart in his hands. The two of you might add to it yet - at least, that was what he told himself; the alternative was too painful to even consider.

It had almost been a year since he’d last seen you, before you’d found yourself trapped in the Apocalypse world Michael had destroyed. Sam and Dean had all but given up on you for the first few months, but Castiel refused to entertain such notions; the idea of a life without you was impossible to imagine. But the days were piling up quickly, each feeling like an eternity to the angel, even with the many millennia he already had under his belt. And with each day that passed, the chances of your survival grew smaller and smaller.

Cas could only hope that Jack had found you - the Nephilim had followed you into the Apocalypse world a few months ago, after a failed rescue attempt conducted by the Winchesters and himself. He busied himself nowadays with aiding Sam and Dean in their quest to replicate the portals Jack had managed to open, but sometimes, it all became a bit too much. It was these times that he retreated to your room in the bunker, leafing through your scrapbook as he laid on your bed and breathed you in. He found himself here a lot lately.

Hopefully, he’d soon be able to soothe himself with your actual presence.

“Cas, you ready?”

Sam’s voice was gentle but firm, and Cas looked up to the door, nodding slowly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Sam offered him a tight smile as he left. Before following him, Cas spared a final glance to the scrapbook before retrieving the polaroid he had held earlier, slipping it into the pocket of his trench coat before following in Sam’s footsteps.

When he reached the library, he saw Rowena sitting nearby with a spellbook whilst Lucifer was bound with his neck sliced open, spilling tendrils of glowing archangel grace into the bowl below. Dean’s eyes met Cas, and the Winchester set his jaw as he nodded his greeting.

The portal opened, a rift tearing through the air and bleeding a golden glow that danced over the floor and illuminated the dust motes dancing lazily through the air.

“We’ll find them,” Dean said. Cas exhaled shakily.

“Yes. We will.”

---

You gasped as you were tossed back into your cell, bloodied fingernails clawing at the stone as you scrambled towards the door before it could close. Michael’s henchman laughed before slamming it in your face, and you heaved dry sobs as your shaking palms met cold steel. You leapt back like it had burned you, retreating to the corner and drawing your knees up to your chest as you tried to breathe. You weren’t physically harmed, not anymore - Michael always made sure to heal you at the end of your daily “meetings” so that you wouldn’t die on him before the next one. You weren’t sure why he hadn’t killed you yet - you thought it was quite clear you had no information to offer him.

Seemed like the sadistic bastard just liked to torture you.

Eight months and twenty-four days - that was how long it had been since you’d seen your friends, your family, Cas. You’d long since given up hope of seeing them again, and you could feel your memories of them fading no matter how tightly you clung to them. Their laughs, their hugs, even their faces were being distorted and replaced by the horrific days you spent here. You could finally imagine what Sam had experienced when he was locked in the cage with Lucifer and your world’s version of Michael.

You’d feel sorry for him, but it was impossible for you to look to the past when your present always seemed to drag you away, tainting your treasured memories with the taste of blood and the echoes of your screams.

The cold air bit your skin, and you could catch a glimpse of the night sky through the barred window far above your head. You shivered, huddling into yourself, trying to steal what little sleep you could. You barely managed five minutes before the nightmares had you screaming again. After a few failed attempts, you hauled yourself to your feet and began to pace.

Yes. That was good.

Your heart was pounding, but at least you could attribute it to movement now, and not the heavy weight of what was to happen to you again come morning. The tears on your cheeks dried as you focussed on the tread of your footsteps. Loose stones bit the soles of your feet, but the pain was nothing compared to that which you’d already encountered. You couldn’t escape it, even in these small moments of reprieve. In some ways these moments were worse - you had nothing to entertain you but imaginings of what was to come.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of your heartbeat bled into the sound of your footsteps, and eventually, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy.

I should sleep, your brain whispered. You nodded uncertainly to yourself, folding yourself back into your corner. Before your eyelids fell shut, you found yourself staring at the picture perfect sight of the trees, just visible amongst the darkness outside of your window.

A half-smile curved your lips as you remembered Castiel’s hand in yours, a camera in your hand as you snapped a photo of him in the forest near the bunker before collecting some nearby wildflowers to press into your scrapbook.

Your smile fell as you leaned into sleep, while the bright wildflowers melted into puddles of blood, and the click of the camera morphed into the snapping of bones.

---

“What do you mean, ‘they’re not here’?” Castiel demanded, and Jack’s expression was apologetic.

“I couldn’t help them - I tried for months, I swear, and when I joined these people… I thought we might stand a chance,” he said, nodding towards the rebel base surrounding him. It hadn’t been easy gaining their trust, but Bobby had given him a chance when he dropped Mary Campbell’s name, and he’d proven himself ten times over. “But Michael slaughters anyone who approaches his compound. It was a suicide mission. But I’m getting stronger, so we’re planning another rescue mission, and this time I think I can take him!” he added fervently. Castiel mulled over Jack’s words for a few moments.

“So they’ve been trapped with Michael? All this time?” he asked, and Jack nodded tentatively. Castiel’s jaw tightened, while Dean ran his hand over his face in the background. Sam’s eyes flashed with despair - he knew all too well what kind of torture archangels were capable of. Castiel tried not to dwell on that for too long.

“We need to save them,” Cas said, voice hard and eyes harder. Jack nodded.

“And we will.”

Castiel’s hands clenched into fists by his sides, and Dean clapped him on the back reassuringly.

“Kid’s right. We’ll get ‘em back, Cas. We won’t leave till we do.”

Dean’s voice was uncertain, but Cas pretended not to notice. His hand fell to his pocket, and he dug through the stiff fabric until his fingers closed around the crumpled polaroid. He squeezed it desperately.

I’m coming, Y/N, he thought. I’m coming.

---

Footsteps. Shouting. Screaming.

You jolted awake, expecting the noise to dissolve with your dreams, but as you blinked the sleep from your eyes the sounds only grew louder. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard the approaching footsteps grow closer.

“No,” you whispered. Your voice was hoarse and your tongue drier than sandpaper, and you clambered to your feet as you ran to the door, straining to peer through the crack along the side. They couldn’t be coming for you - not yet, it was too soon!

It was hard to see outside - the lighting was dim, but the darkness was broken by sudden strikes of light that lasted for only a few seconds before fading. You heard the sound of bodies hitting the floor, skulls cracking against concrete. Your heartbeat hastened, and your palms were slippery against the door as you pressed closer. The metal was cold on your face, digging into your skin as you pressed your eye closer to the slim opening.

“Where are they?!”

That voice… you recognised that voice. But you’d never heard it so angry, so acidic with rage. Your breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps as your eyes widened at the unfolding scene. A tall figure slammed one of Michael’s henchmen against the wall, growling something you couldn’t decipher before slamming something between their ribs. You caught sight of a glint of silver - an angel blade.

Another shard of light scattered over the walls as the henchman screamed. The figure stepped back, and the corpse dropped to the floor with a heavy thump. All fell quiet as the figure turned to your door - you still couldn’t make out their face.

They took a step forward and you threw yourself backwards, crawling towards your corner, fear flooding your veins as readily as blood. Some part of you knew there was no need to fear; the enemy of your enemy was your friend. But fear seemed to be the only emotion your body was capable of producing anymore, and so you buried your face in your knees and did the only thing you could.

You waited.

There was a murmuring of voices outside, a brief pause broken by the clinking of metal, and suddenly the door was creaking open. It scraped over the floor, grating against the stone with a rasping sound that made you wince.

You heard footsteps urgently approach you, felt them vibrating across the floor, and you didn’t realise you were shaking until a firm, gentle hand was clasping onto your shoulder. You flinched, and it was quickly removed.

“Y/N. Y/N, it’s me. You’re safe.”

You dared to spare a glance, blinking a few times before the face came into focus. Your mouth opened, but your mouth was too dry to form words. You swallowed, and your voice came out as a pitiful croak.

“Cas?”

Castiel nodded, eyes heavy with concern.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you hurt?” he asked, and you could detect the anger lying under his worried tone. You found yourself shaking your head, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. I’m going to help you up now, alright?” he murmured. You nodded, and suddenly his arms were around you, lifting you to your feet like you weighed no more than five pounds. Your legs were shaking, but they held. Though he removed his touch, Cas kept one hand hovering at your back, ready to catch you if you fell.

You waited for him to lash out, to hit you, for his face to shift into Michael’s as it was revealed that this was all a cruel joke meant to torment you - but he didn’t. Castiel’s eyes, though weighed with distress, remained his own. Even so, you didn’t dare allow yourself to relax.

“Let’s get you home, alright?” he said, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you managed. Cas shed his trench coat, draping it over your shoulders before offering you a hesitant smile. You didn’t return it, but let him guide you from the room.

Fresh air hit your face for the first time in months. The wind made your eyes water and you pulled Cas’s coat tightly around you, opening your mouth to eagerly gulp down the sweet-tasting air. Trees loomed over you, casting long shadows that leached the scenery of its colour. The sky was heavy with swollen clouds, pregnant with rain that had yet to fall. Castiel ushered you to a bus, guiding you to the back and shielding you from the curious stares cast your way.

You idly looked out the window as the bus roared to life, watching the scenery blend into a blur of green and grey as the bus stuttered along the rough dirt trail. Castiel’s presence beside you felt neither comforting nor frightening; you felt numb, too afraid to hope for fear it would be snatched away from you.

Cas shot you anxious glances, but didn’t say anything until you were back in the bunker. The once-familiar library might as well have been an alien planet - something from a dream you’d had long ago that had long since faded from your mind, leaving only a whisper of sentimentality tugging at the corners of your thoughts.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Cas suggested, and you jumped at his sudden closeness. He stepped back, raising his hands non-threateningly. You let the tension seep from your shoulders and waited until your heart stopped pounding before you nodded.

“Okay,” you weakly replied. The angel helped you bathe, and once you were clean and snug in your pyjamas, he took you to your room. You immediately crawled beneath the covers, drawing them up to your chest as you vaguely remembered the last time you’d laid here. Cas had been with you, and you’d been pressed snug against his chest.

Cas was here now, too, but he’d taken a seat in the armchair across the room; your hands fisted in cold, empty sheets. You were a shell of who you used to be - you could feel it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, nor try to fix it.

“Can I get you anything?” Cas fretted. “Food? Water?”

You nodded, and Cas promptly disappeared, returning a few moments later with some crackers and a glass of water. “Here… I wanted to get you more, but Sam said we shouldn’t overload your system…”

You nodded again, accepting the plate and nibbling on the edge of a cracker. The salty taste flooded over your tongue as it crunched under your teeth, and was easily the best-tasting food you’d had in… well, eight months and twenty-four days. You inhaled the meal, taking small sips of water between each bite.

“Thank you,” you managed, glancing up at Cas and offering a ghost of a smile. He nodded, shifting closer to perch on the end of your bed.

“You’re welcome. I… I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, but… you’re safe now,” he told you.

“Where’s Michael?” The words slipped from your tongue without thinking, and you saw Castiel’s face twist in pain at the fear still lingering in your tone.

“He’s not here - he’s trapped in the Apocalypse world. He can’t hurt you,” he promised, and you nodded, letting his soothing words wash over you like honey.

“Okay.”

Cas paused, eyes meeting yours for a moment before darting away. “I know Sam and Dean would love to see you,” he said eventually, and you felt a flicker of recognition at the names. “Would you feel comfortable with that?”

You shrugged, and Cas licked his lips in thought before standing up and leaving the room. When the door opened again, two familiar people appeared in his absence.

“Hey, Y/N. How’re you feeling?” Sam’s voice was practically dripping with pity, and you ducked your head.

“Fine.” Your voice cracked. No one mentioned it.

“It’s good to have you home,” Dean said. “For a while there, we weren’t sure we’d get you back.”

“Dean!” Sam chastised, but you shook your head and looked down as you fiddled with your blanket, fingers tugging at the loose threads.

“Me either.”

Someone sighed. You didn’t look up to see who.

The mattress dipped and the springs creaked. That made you look up.

Sam was sitting at the edge of your bed. “Listen… I get how you must be feeling. Trust me, I get it. If you ever want to talk about it…”

Talk about it.

It?

Your brain couldn’t quite process his words, until it suddenly could, overwhelming you with an onslaught of memories.

Pain. Laughter. Screaming. Pleading. Crying. Bleeding.

Torture.

‘It.’

“Y/N? Y/N!”

Dean. His voice was close, and he drew you from the prison of your mind. You gasped, hand flying to your cheek where you found the slick dampness of tears. You raised your hand in front of you, startled to see that your fingernails had been biting into your palms hard enough to draw blood. They stung, but you barely noticed. You swallowed, glancing around the room frantically. It was so small, so cramped, you felt like you couldn’t breathe, and suddenly you were back in that cell and-

You jumped to your feet, all but flying out the door. Startled looks were shot your way as you sprinted up the stairs and flew into the night air. You gulped it into your lungs, chest heaving with sobs that ripped from your throat and crippled you - you collapsed to your knees, swallowing and forcing yourself to slow your breathing.

The fluttering of wings had you glancing up, and you saw Castiel standing a few paces away, face creased with concern.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he asked, getting to his knees before moving closer - the last thing he wanted to do was intimidate you. You exhaled shakily.

“I- I can’t-”

“It’s alright - you’re safe now. What can I do?”

“Don’t make me go back,” you begged, blinking back the salty tears that stung your eyes. “Please…”

“I’m not making you do anything,” he promised. “But I would really like it if you came back inside. The bunker is your home - there’s no safer place in this world. Nothing can hurt you there,” he said, and you shook your head frantically.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” you whispered, wringing your hands as you fought back another round of sobs. Cas nodded, the epitome of calmness despite the concern in his gaze.

“Okay. Can you tell me why?”

“It just- it makes me think of that- place,” you hissed, and Cas closed his eyes, sighing.

“I’m sorry. But it’s not that place, alright? You’re safe here. You were happy here, once,” he reminded you, and you tightened your jaw, avoiding his gaze.

“That all seems like- like so long ago… I can barely even…” you trailed off. Cas nodded sympathetically.

“I know - but you can find that again. You can be happy here again,” he told you, and you fell into an uncertain silence. An idea seemed to strike him, and his hand shot to his pocket, where he withdrew what looked like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Here - do you remember this?” he asked. You took the paper from him, surprised to find it thick and glossy under your fingers. You unfurled it, and your heart leapt to your throat at the sight of the polaroid. It was you - a half smile on your face, eyes averted from the lens. Tears pricked your eyes at the memory.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I remember.”

Cas smiled. “You have a whole scrapbook of these, remember? Do you remember the day we spent in the forest, collecting flowers to press?”

The forest.

Your mind flashed back to the looming trees outside your cell window, the most beautiful sight you’d had access to then, but a horrible nightmare now. You felt yourself start to panic, but when your eyes met Castiel’s, you found yourself finding another memory in his eyes.

“The wildflowers,” you murmured. “We-we collected wildflowers.”

He smiled. “That’s right,” he encouraged. “And then, we came back to the bunker. Your home. And we put all those happy memories in one place.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember. And I remember you spilling glue all over the table, and Dean- Dean got so mad.” You giggled despite yourself, and Cas smiled warmly. “So we had to find that shitty masking tape that barely even works and use that, instead.”

Cas chuckled fondly at the memory, nodding. “Yes. The scrapbook is still in your room - would you like to come and see it?”

You hesitated. “I’m not sure…”

“That’s alright,” Cas assured you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I think it would do you some good to be around your friends. The bunker is still your home.”

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you agreed, and Cas beamed, extending his hand and helping you up. You brushed off your pyjama bottoms, teeth worrying at your lower lip as you looked up at the angel. “Can-can I hug you?” You stumbled over your words, but Cas nodded, eyes warm.

“You don’t have to ask,” he told you, and you stepped into his arms, hands resting lightly on his shoulders as he held you to his chest. You expected to feel trapped, afraid, but instead, you felt safe and protected in the arms of your angel. Leaning into him, you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing him in as he ran his hand lightly up and down your back. Your arms wound around him, and you squeezed yourself to him, his firm body a physical barrier between you and the fears that had threatened to overcome you. When you pulled away, the warmth of the hug remained as a glowing, soothing presence in your chest.

“Let’s go inside,” he coaxed, and you found yourself nodding. His hand found yours, and for once you didn’t flinch at the movement, instead twining your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand lightly, and you felt him brush a kiss across your temple.

This might not have been the picture-perfect reunion Castiel had imagined during those long months, but the fact remained; he had you back, safe and sound. And he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @stealingheartsswift13 @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @spnlovr73 @kina666 @liviaolivia

Cas tags: none! lemme know if u wanna be added!

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #castiel x reader #castiel fanfiction #castiel imagine #spn imagine #spn #spn x reader #supernatural x you #spn x y/n #castiel #supernatural angst #spn angst #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #supernatural one shot #castiel one shot

[notfunnydean]

Sometimes, it’s better to be alone

This is for @jacks-nougat-loving-girl and her Disney Quote Challenge! I really hope you like it! x

Prompt: “Sometimes, it’s better to be alone, nobody can hurt you.” from Hercules.

Dean always thought about the bunker as his home. From the first second, he felt good here. He had his own room. Sammy was always near him and even Castiel visited them a lot.

But lately…

Lately he feels like a stranger in his own home. Castiel is a lot more often in the bunker the last weeks, but he isn’t really talking much to Dean. He only seems to visit Sam.

“Nah i’m telling you, i love it.” Sam says from the kitchen and he seems really happy about something. At first Dean believes he is on the phone with someone, but then he hears a voice that visits him in way too many dreams.

“Thank you Sam. I’m glad to have you.” Castiel answers and he sounds a bit embarrassed, but Dean can also hear the smile in his voice. This soft voice seems to be reserved for only Sam these days.

“Same Castiel. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Sam says quietly and Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Sam deserves this. His little brother deserves to be happy as well. Dean should be okay with this. He should be happy for Sam. He really should.

“Morning.” Dean mumbles quietly and goes over to the stove. He needs a real good breakfast now and if Sam and Cas want to have secrets, they can have them somewhere that is not his kitchen.

“Hey Dean.” Sam says easily before he gets up, not without squeezing Castiel’s shoulder once. Dean doesn’t even answer his brother and he knows it’s … childish. Yeah but he thought Sam knew that Dean has some feelings or whatever for his angel.

Apparently he was wrong about that. Or worse, Sam doesn’t care. Castiel isn’t even an angel anymore. It’s mostly Dean’s fault and he hates himself enough for all three of them. But he can’t stop to think about Castiel as an Angel, because for him, he still is. Even without his mojo.

[Read more under the cut]

“Hello Dean.” Castiel says, when Sam is out of the door. Probably for his shower. Dean just nods and starts to search for ingredients in his fridge. He could make pancakes. Yeah maybe that would help the sour feeling in his mouth.

“So anything you are doing today?” Dean asks when he puts his pan on the stove. He should have some chocolate chips somewhere, too.

“Yeah, actually Sam and me want to go to his little farmer market.” Castiel announces happily and Dean turns around to him. Castiel’s smile is breathtaking, even though it’s not for Dean.

“Oh that sounds like fun.” Dean quietly says, when he turns back. He’s never been to a farmer market and he is sure it’s not really his thing, but for Cas? He would do anything. Sam however loves farmer markets.

So yeah Dean can understand why Castiel prefers Sam. They are much more alike. Where Dean loves a good fight in a hunt, Castiel and Sam do more of the research. They both love to go out for walks or ...apparently farmer markets.

Dean loves to sit on his damn bed and watch netflix. He loves fast food and would probably die for pie. Castiel and Sam love all those healthy green things. Since Castiel fell and is human, he eats burgers too. But he always goes back to the healthy stuff.

“Yeah i can’t wait to go there! I heard they have so many different kinds of honey.” Castiel explains excited and Dean sighs quietly. He should’ve bought Castiel some honey the last time he went grocery shopping.

“Do you want to eat something before you leave?” Dean asks and Castiel shakes his head at him. Dean tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

“I already ate with Sam. He made us a fruit salad and he even remembered that i don’t like pears.” Castiel says and Dean nods again. He knew that, too. Since Castiel is human, he tried a lot of stuff and Dean tries to memorize everything he likes and hates.

“Okay cool.” Dean says and he is already finished making his pancakes. He sits down to eat them and looks at Castiel. He can’t help it. He always stares at him.

Castiel isn’t look back at him, instead he is reading over a newspaper. That gives Dean the idea, that he could actually look for a new hunt. Maybe there is something near them and he could look alone at it.

“Cas?”

Dean wants to roll his eyes. He doesn’t even have ten minutes alone with Castiel. Sam is dressed up. Dean nearly chokes on his pancakes, when he sees that Sam is actually wearing a nice suit and has his hair in a ponytail.

“I’m ready Sam.” Castiel says and at least he isn’t overdressed. He wears just some jeans and an old shirt from Dean. Normally that would at least make Dean smile, but not today. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Perfect. Dean? Don’t wait up for us. I wanna take Castiel out somewhere.” Sam says and he alreadys grabs the keys for Baby. Dean doesn’t even blink. Castiel puts the newspaper away and gets up to follow Sam.

Dean swallows dryly, when he is alone.

Sam takes Castiel out. His brother takes his angel out. Dean swallows again, but it feels as if there is a lump in his throat.

Dean gets up and opens the fridge again, to get out a beer. He doesn’t care that it’s only 10 am. He doesn’t care about anything.

*

Hours later, Dean does care. Or at least his body does. His head is hurting like hell, the lumb in his throat is still there and he feels as if he needs to puke.

Dean sits outside of the bunker and it’s already dark. So instead of doing the right thing and looking for a hunt, he is sitting here miserably and drunk. Just perfect. Maybe Castiel and Sam wouldn't even come home. Maybe they would search for a tiny motel and…

Dean shakes his head, but that makes him dizzy. He doesn’t even hears it, when Baby drives into their garage. Dean just sighs loudly and lets himself fall backwards into the grass. He isn’t even sure what he is doing here outside.

“Dean?”

Oh. Dean closes his eyes, that sounds a lot like his angel. Dean always liked his voice. It’s so deep and when he is worried about Dean, it sounds even better. Dean sighs happily.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks and now Dean realizes that this isn’t a dream. No, Castiel is really standing there. Frowning down at him. Dean makes himself a bit smaller. Oh great.

“I was out and drinking and yeah…” Dean says, because he can’t say that he was crying over his lost relationship with Castiel right? But now Castiel seems really angry. Dean doesn’t understand.

“Really?” Castiel huffs and Dean shakes his head. But what is he supposed to say?

“Sleeping?” Dean tries but Castiel is having none of it. He holds his hand out and Dean takes it, groaning. Sam is standing behind Castiel and he seems angry, too. Dean doesn’t really care. He checks his surroundings.

“Why are you back already?” Dean says and Sam huffs annoyed.

“Apparently to save your sorry ass from freezing to death.” Sam says and he already turns around to walk back to the bunker. Dean sees that he even left the door open before. Oh maybe he is more out of it, than he thought.

“We tried to call you a few times and when you didn’t answer we left early.” Castiel admits quietly and Dean’s eyes widen. He destroyed their date, without even being there? He feels even more like crap now.

“Cas. I’m sorry.” Dean tries, but Castiel just shakes his head. Sam is banging the door loudly and Castiel sighs. He still helps Dean back to the bunker and even into his room. Dean falls onto his bed and sees his phone. It’s blinking with a dozen messages.

“Do you need help?” Castiel asks and he sounds so disappointed in Dean. He hastily shakes his head and presses his face halfway into his pillow.

“Y-you have to believe me Castiel! I’m sorry.” Dean says again, but Castiel is already halfway through the room.

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel says before he shuts off the light and leaves. Dean waits another few minutes, before he hears voices again. Maybe Castiel would at least sleep in Sam’s room. Dean sits up again.

He just wishes…

Dean shakes his head. No. He would not cry over this. Sam deserves someone like Castiel. And Castiel...deserves everybody but Dean.

Where the fuck is his bag?

*

“What are you doing here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Dean looks up at the woman and then huffs. He can’t even sit here and drink himself to death, without someone speaking to him every two seconds.

It’s been a shitty month since Dean ran away. Or drove away. He couldn’t leave Baby there. Still he had thought he would feel better with being away from the two lovebirds. Instead he feels worse.

He misses Castiel. A bit more with every day.

“Sorry. Not interested.” Dean mumbles and holds his hand up for the bartender. He needs another beer. He checks his new phone, but of course there are no messages. He doesn’t even have any contacts in there.

When the new beer arrives, Dean hisses at bit, when he takes it. The lastest hunt was not an easy one and Dean is pretty hurt from that damn ghost. Still in the end he killed it once and for all.

“Dean?!”

Dean jerks at the voice and spills the beer all over himself. Dammit that was his last shirt. He gets up and looks around. And fuck. There is Sam standing in this shabby bar, looking very angry.

“Uhm.” Dean says and he looks around for another way out. Sadly he can’t find another door, only the one to the toilets.

“We were searching for you for weeks!” Sam says, when he comes closer and he already grabs Dean’s arm. Dean winces, because fuck it’s still bruised badly.

“Stop! Sam!” Dean says, while his brother shoves him out of the bar. Outside is Castiel leaning against his damn pimpmobile. Dean wants to cry and he tries to get out of Sam’s hold.

Due to his bruised arm and the last five beers, Sam is way more stronger than him. Just his luck of course.

“Dean!” Castiel says and he sounds a bit angry too, but mostly relieved. Dean kinda wants to run over to him for a hug. He doesn’t do anything in the end.

“What are you doing here?” Dean hisses and finally Sam lets go of his arm. Dean takes a few steps away from his brother. He is pretty sure that if he would try to run, Castiel or Sam would stop him before he makes it over to Baby.

“We were looking for you. What are you doing?” Sam says and his bitch face is on a whole new level. Dean would be impressed, if it wasn’t directed at him.

“I wanted to be alone.” Dean says and he sounds like a teenager. Oh god. Sam grunts at that and Castiel frowns at him.

“Why did you want to be alone?” Castiel says quietly and when Dean looks at him, he sees that Castiel is more sad than angry. He looks...he looks as if he didn’t sleep the last weeks and his eyes are so dark. He can see the hurt in his angel’s eyes. Dean swallows.

“I… i needed… i wanted…” Dean stutters, but he doesn’t know what to say. Should he maybe just congratulate them on their relationship? Dean isn’t sure how honest he can sound when he says it, but maybe he has to try.

“You wanted to be alone? Normal people stay in their room for a day then. They don’t drive through half the country and hide.” Sam says and Dean nods. He knows that he isn’t exactly normal.

“Like i said. I wanted to be alone and i don’t appreciate you following me.” Dean snaps at Sam and he takes a few steps back. Maybe he could still make it to Baby, without spilling his feelings here and being even more embarrassed.

“Dean.” Castiel says again and the pain in his eyes is so clear, that Dean looks at the ground. He never meant to hurt Castiel. Hurting Castiel was the last thing Dean wanted. He had thought Castiel and Sam could concentrate more on each other, without him between them to ruin it.

“S-sometimes it’s better to be alone. Nobody can hurt you.” Dean whispers and this time the first tear already falls down to the ground. Dean doesn’t look up, when the next tears fall. Embarrassing.

That’s what he is. Pathetic. Crying in a parking lot, just because he got rejected. Dean rubs his hand over his face, but the tears don’t stop. He tries to cry at least quietly, but even that doesn’t work.

“What are you talking about? Who is hurting you Dean?” Sam asks and this time he sounds mostly shocked and a bit afraid. Dean shakes his head again. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want Sam to feel bad for dating Castiel.

“It’s o-okay.” Dean presses out, but he isn’t even sure if they can understand him between all those tears.

Dean gasps quietly, when somebody pulls him into a warm hug. Since Dean is being able to press his face against the other ones shoulder without standing on his tiptoes, it’s Castiel who is hugging him.

“I never saw you cry before.” Castiel whispers quietly and Dean tries to take a deep breath, but now he is only sobbing even louder in Castiel’s trench coat. He even curls his fingers into the fabric.

“S-sorry.” Dean stutters and Castiel doesn’t seem angry anymore. Instead he even puts one of his hands in Dean’s hair and strokes it lightly. Dean jerks a bit, when somebody else takes his free hand. Sam.

“Dean talk to us. Who is hurting you? Why do you need to be alone?” Sam asks carefully and even he seems to be worried about Dean’s sudden outburst. Even though he saw how Dean had wept, when he came back from hell. Dean sniffles and shakes his head. He can’t tell them.

“Do you think whoever is hurting you, will hurt us, too?” Castiel whispers and Dean shrugs. What can he say to that?

“I don’t want to intrude.” Dean mumbles finally. He isn’t sure that they actually understood what he said, but with the way Castiel jerks, they did. “Intrude?” He asks and Dean nods against his neck. If he could he would stay forever like this.

“You and Sammy.” Dean says quietly and Sam pulls his hand away. Dean makes the mistake to look up at that. Sam is still gifting him with a bitch face. Castiel is frowning.

“Me and Sam? I don’t understand.” Castiel says and he looks to Sam for answers. Dean knows his brother would figure it out any second. Sam shakes his head and sighs. Dean actually doesn’t want to hear him say it.

 ‘Dean, Castiel and I are together now.’

But maybe...it would help him to get over it.

“You are so stupid, Dean. I can’t believe this.” Sam says and Dean wants to apologize again, but just as he opens his mouth, Sam holds his hand up. Dean stays quiet.

“What the fucking hell makes you think Castiel and i are together?” Sam says through clenched teeth. Dean furrows his eyebrows. Now he is the one, who doesn’t understand anything apparently.

“Uhm...you were always together and whispering and...you went to the market together. You took Cas out for a date back then? Remember?” Dean says and he licks his lips. Didn’t it work out between them? Maybe the date went bad.

Without Dean destroying it.

Dean would have expected anything, but not that Sam starts actually to laugh. Castiel isn’t laughing, but he also doesn’t seem as confused anymore. Sam even throws his head back, as he starts howling. Dean frowns harder.

“This is the best thing i heard all year.” Sam presses out between his laughter and Dean can’t believe they share the same blood. Idiot.

“Sam wasn’t taking me out on a date.” Castiel mutters quietly, while Sam goes over to Baby and leans against her, only to laugh again. Dean looks back to Castiel. They are still standing close together.

“No. We went to the market to get some honey and fruits. I told you.” Castiel says and Dean nods. Still, he knows what he heard.

“He said he took you out.” Dean says and Castiel smiles a bit. He takes Dean’s hand in his and then looks back to Sam.

“Good maybe i was trying to make you jealous Dean. But i didn’t know you would drink yourself half to death and then run away.” Sam says and he finally stopped laughing. Dean glares at his brother.

Castiel looks at Sam as well. Apparently they can now communicate without talking, because Castiel nods once and then looks back to Dean.

“Get into my car.” Castiel says and without another thought, Dean does. He just sits down and waits for Castiel to start the car. Normally he hates to drive with other people and he even leaves Sam alone with Baby.

But he really wants to be with Castiel now. They drive for almost two hours and Dean is nervous the whole time, but it doesn’t seem like Castiel wants to talk.

“Where are we?” Dean asks, when they stop and Castiel gets out of the car. They seem to be in a small forest in the middle of the night. There are a lot of trees around them, a little lake to their left and they are in the middle of a flower field. Only the moon is shining down on them.

“This is where i wanted to take you out. It’s where i pulled you out from hell.” Castiel says and Dean takes a step back, as if Castiel’s words burned him.

“What?”

“You see Sam and i were planning this for days. I wanted to drive here with you and have a picnic. That’s why Sam and i even drove to the farmer market. I wanted it to be special.” Castiel says quietly and he sighs.

Dean is not sure what if should say. He really thought Castiel and Sam were… but instead. Dean feels like he needs to sit down. As if Castiel can read his thoughts, he offers him a blanket and Dean sits down on it.

“You wanted to take me out on a date?” Dean asks and he carefully strokes over the blanket. It’s very soft. He was never on a picnic. Maybe when he was really little, Mary took him to one, but he can’t remember.

“Of course, Dean. Who else would i love?” Castiel says so straightforward, that Dean is speechless for a few moments. He got it all wrong and he...he totally fucked this up. He could’ve had this and instead he run away.

“I’m sorry.” Dean mutters quietly and Castiel sits down next to him. Dean carefully scoops a bit closer, but he isn’t sure if he is really allowed. Castiel smiles a bit, nothing like his bright and beautiful one, but still it’s a smile.

“I have to say it’s quite amusing that you think i would date Sam, but still i was very worried the last weeks. I thought you had found out and didn't want me.” Castiel admits and Dean shakes hastily his head.

He wouldn’t fuck this up again.

“I...i have a crush on you for eh...years.” Dean finally says and it is as if someone took a huge weight from his shoulders. Dean relaxes a bit. Castiel’s smiles this time is bright and adorable. Dean wants to kiss it.

“I’m glad to hear that, because what do you humans always say? Same?” Castiel says and Dean has to laugh at that. Castiel uses that moment to shut him up. In the best way possible.

He kisses Dean softly. Just once, before he leans a bit back. Dean could stare forever in his dark eyes. But he actually wants another kiss.

“Do that again.” Dean whispers and he hasn't even finished his sentence, when Castiel kisses him again. This time Castiel carefully presses against him and puts his hands on Dean’s glowing cheeks.

“Dean.” Castiel whispers quietly between their kisses and somehow Dean ended up on his lap. Castiel is grinning widely.

“I love you.” Dean says, because it’s true and he can’t hold it back anymore. Castiel’s answer is lost in their next kisses, but Dean knows it anyway. Castiel loves him. Not Sam.

“Never leave me like this again.” Castiel says quietly and he strokes over Dean’s cheek. Dean can’t believe he ran in the first place. How could’ve he been this stupid.

“I promise.” Dean answers and he presses his hand over Castiel’s heart.

“So how about this picnic?” Castiel grins and before Dean can answer Castiel gets up and takes a small basket out of his car.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Dean says but he isn’t really protesting. He actually loves this a lot. Castiel just smiles and then puts an arm around him. Dean grins. He can’t believe he ever wanted to be alone.

“I always knew our first date would be special, but this is just...extraordinary.” Castiel says and Dean laughs, before he reaches for the basket on the blanket.

“I really hoped that we would find you today and Sam told me to pack at least a bit, but it’s not much.” Castiel says and Dean laughs when he sees there is mostly just chocolate in the basket.

Then he finds a small bowl with fruit and gives that to Castiel. Of course not without taking the pear out first.

“Sometimes it’s better to stay where you are.” Dean whispers into the quiet night. And he would stay exactly where he was. In Castiel’s arms.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel writing #ash's happy disney quote challenge #jacks-nougat-loving-girl #my writing #my fics

[v-v-malfoy]

Fallin all in you

How any guest at a wedding could actually enjoy themselves would always be unexplainable to Castiel. He sighed deeply and looked over to his left where his son Jack was happily eating a pice of cake, entertaining half of their table by how adorable he looked by doing so. He smiled at his son and removed a few crumbles from his sons dress shirt.

It was the day of his favorite brothers wedding; he really should be happier... It wasn’t that he didn’t feel thrilled about the fact that his brother was finally settling down with the love of his life, it was just that it reminded him way to much of his own wedding six years ago. He had adored his wife Amelia and had been over the moon with the news of her pregnancy shortly after their wedding. It had been just like he had imagined how his life would go, until his beloved wife died two days after having their son. When he was honest with himself, he had been hiding himself with Jack and his work in his own little bubble, working at home and avoiding all kinds of human interactions besides walks to the playground and shoppingtrips. His brother Gabriel had always been by his side, especially while the first horrible year after Amelias death lasted and Castiel had been overwhelmed with grief and the novelty to care for an infant. But as a team, it had worked out. Then four years ago, Gabriel had found his groom. Of course Castiel had met the man that had stopped Gabriels endless affaires and had been pleasantly surprised by him. His brothers usual preferences were tall and gorgeous blonde women with great curves, Sam Winchester was the complete opposite. Well, he was tall and very handsome; but also very much a man. He was a lawyer from Lawrence that had opened his own law firm with his brother and their uncle shortly after graduating Stanford and they seemed to be pretty successful doing so. Gabriel had often tried to tempt Castiel to meet Sams family but Castiel had always declined. Meeting new people if he didn’t absolutely had to wasn’t exactly his favorite thing.. He tried to work on himself to get outside more, mostly for Jack because his son loved humanity, but still he avoided groups of people. But obviously there was no way of getting around his brothers wedding. It was a nice and rather intimate party of around fifty people, but it still felt overwhelming. Also it hadn’t really helped that Sam’s elder brother Dean was the most handsome man Castiel had ever laid eyes on. He tried not to stare at the gorgeous figure next to Sam who appeared to be very outspoken and open. As soon as Castiel had seen him for the first time this very morning, he had stopped wondering why Gabriel wouldn’t shut up about the Winchester’s. Obviously he loved Sam, but he also genuinely liked Dean, which seemed to be very fun to talk to and a true friend. Also he had played with Jack for a while and Castiels heart had melted faster than he would ever admit. But even though everyone seemed to love Dean, Castiel had felt absolutely intimidated by his beauty and had merely managed to say hello to him. He hated himself sometimes for being this bad around people, but he couldn’t help himself. When Amelia had been by his side, he had felt safer and his social anxiety had been quieter. But now that he was alone there was no getting around it anymore. He sighed again and watched how his brother listened in awe to a story Sam was telling the group. Gabriel deserved to be this happy. Being lost in his thoughts, Castiel hadn’t noticed that Jack had finished his cake and jumped happily to his feet. „Daddy, can I go over and play with Boomer, please?“ Castiel nodded at his son and smiled as the boy ran after Sams huge golden retriever. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he looked up to see Gabriel taking Jacks seat. „How are you doing, little bro? You seem lonely, buddy.“ Gabriel looked at him with his usual worried expression. Castiel really didn’t wanted him to be worried at his own wedding so he plastered a smile to his face. „It’s fine. I’m just not used to be surrounded by so many people. But it really is a nice Party, Gabe. I’m so happy for you guys.“

„I know you are. Just want you to have fun, too. But we’re gonna dance in a few, thought I’d give you a warning. I bribed Dean to sing for our wedding dance, try not to drool on the tablecloth.“ He winked at him and walked over to Sam who held out a bottle of whiskey to Dean, who seemed a little less self secure while he nervously fumbled a guitar out of it’s case.

Sing? That intelligent, gorgeous, kind and funny man could also sing? Did that man had no flaws at all..? Castiel nipped at his champagne as he watched him take a big gulp out of the bottle his brother offered him. „You really sure you want that stupid song?“ He heard Dean ask Sam while he flushed and covered his eyes with the bottle for a moment. „Yes that one. Please Dean.“ Yeah, yeah. No need for puppy eyes.“ Dean took another big gulp and started to tune the guitar as Gabriel proudly announced their first dance as a couple. The other guests stopped their conversations and gathered around the couple and Dean. Jack and Boomer came running to Castiel, the dog sat down next to him and his son climbed on his lap and snuggled into his arms. He pressed a kiss to his head and looked up again, only to see the eyes of a smiling Dean on him.

And wow, that smile could end wars. He flushed and managed to smile back, hating himself for being shy as a teenager. Sam kissed Gabriels hand and got the smaller quirky man into a dancing position as Dean played a soft melody. They moved slowly as Dean started to sing, but Castiel was too mesmerized by his voice to really watch the dance. It was just a stupid romantic Popsong, but Deans voice was deep, and just as beautiful as the man himself.

„Be my summer in a winter day love

I can't see one thing wrong

Between the both of us

Be mine, be mine, yeah

Anytime, anytime

Ooh, you know I've been alone for quite a while

haven't I? I thought I knew it all

Found love but I was wrong

More times than enough

But since you came along“

Castiel felt like crying. He had goosebumps all over his body and couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean who stared at his guitar with the most beautiful blush on his cheeks.

„I'm thinking baby

You are bringing out a different kind of me

There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free

Falling all in

You fell for men who weren't how they appeared, yeah

Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free

Falling all in you“

He hugged his son closer to his chest and tried to look normal. With every second he felt how he lost more and more of his heart to this man that he hadn’t even really ever talked to.

„Every time I see you baby I get lost

If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up

Every night I'm with you I fall more in love

Now I'm laying by your side

Everything feels right since you came along“

How could one man be this perfect? Castiel felt like he could see the depth of his glowingly beautiful soul while he sang and gave up looking normal. He thanked heaven for creating this song, the perfect moment and Dean himself.

Dean ended the song by playing the soft melody for a moment longer before everyone started clapping. Castiel was still overwhelmed by his feelings and felt frozen. As usual, Jack brought him back to reality by asking very loudly; „Daddy, why are you crying?“ He looked at his son whose tiny hands started to wipe tears from his cheeks. „Sorry darling, I didn’t notice. I really liked the song.“ Jack beamed at him. „Me too! Dean is awesome, right dad?“ Castiel nodded fiercely and prayed that no one else had noticed just how much he had liked it. Jack laughed happily and jumped back to his feet to try to get Boomer to do a wedding dance with him as well.

„So, I’m awesome, huh?“ Castiel almost dropped his glass when Dean appeared right in front of him and nervously scratched his neck. „Stupid song, but Sammy really likes it. This seat taken?“ He pointed at the empty seat next to Castiel who stared at Dean dumbfounded and managed to make an inviting gesture to the chair. „Cool. So, how come a gorgeous man like you is hiding all alone over here? You are Castiel, Gabs little brother, right? Shame we haven’t really met before.“ Castiel blushed even more and nodded lightly, unable to stop staring into Deans eyes. „He mentioned you’d be hot so I had to check you out...“ He grinned sheepishly. „Any chance a guy could hope to dance with you later?“ Castiels mouth dropped open. „You? With.. me?“ „Yeah, you down? I didn’t manage to find a date for the wedding, well thank god for that! Would have been awkward to dump a stranger at my brothers wedding to hit on the best man.“ He laughed nervously. „Err.. Yes. Yes I would like that.“ „Great! So you having a good time here? I heard you are a...“ Castiel accidentally interrupted him midsentence. „Do you know how breathtakingly gorgeous you are?“ He tilted his head and stared into Deans eyes. „There’s just no way you are also a nice person. You are a lawyer, so I guess you have to be pretty smart, your voice makes me cry, your face and your body are worth being sculpted into marble and you seem great with people. There can’t be a perfect human being. You have to have flaws.“ Dean looked shocked at Castiels speech, but laughed then. „No one ever described me as perfect.“ He smiled and put his hand to Castiels cheek. „But if you have to know, I’m pretty impulsive sometimes.“ Cas smiled at Dean as he moved closer, waited for a moment as they were only an inch apart and kissed him.

#destiel #castiel #spn #oneshot #drabble #dean winchester

[astralgabriel]

just my soul responding

sabriel coda fix-it fic - this one is quite heavy, with mentions of suicidal behaviour. if that is a trigger for you, please don’t read on

also posted here on ao3

One week.

It had been one whole week since Sam had carried the Messenger of God out of the Empty, pale and unresponsive in his arms.

Rowena had rushed back to the Bunker after hearing about Michael, the small witch bringing a much needed flurry of hope and energy back to the building. Charlie had opted to stay on the road, reaching out to all she could and warning them of Michael’s presence.

Dean’s absence weighed heavily on everyone. Michael choosing to lay low had only worsened that - no-one had seen Dean’s face for a week.

Sam worked like a man possessed, combing through every lore book for anything that could help get his brother back. He only slept when it was physically impossible to carry on, and even then for only a few hours at a time.

Castiel grew increasingly high strung. He had already been struggling with the impending collapse of Heaven and subsequent extinction of his species, and the loss of Dean had tipped him over the edge.

It was a simple thought from Jack one afternoon - “If only I had my powers, I could wake my uncle. He could help us.” - that set the wheels of a rather haphazard plan in motion.

Rowena was able to rip open a portal to the angelic afterlife with relative ease, the rift casting the library in a soft purple glow. Since the Empty could only play host to the supernatural dead, they’d settled on Sam crossing, with Castiel following if he hadn’t returned within a day.

The Cosmic Entity confronted Sam almost immediately, wearing a mockery of his image like a suit two sizes too small. It was the picture of destructive rage and barely concealed pain, its face contorted in an aggressive snarl; Sam narrowed his arms and lifted his chin defiantly.

“You can’t be here, human,” it spat out, squaring its shoulders.

“Tell you what,” Sam said, folding his arms across his chest. “You give me what I came here for, and I’ll leave.”

The Cosmic Empty stepped towards Sam, though the wince of pain took away from the intimidating gesture. “I don’t make deals with insignificant mortals like you.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to suffer then, because I’m not going anywhere.”

They came to a stalemate. Sam wouldn’t budge, and the Entity couldn’t pressure him into leaving. For Sam, this was little more than a minor inconvenience, but for the Cosmic Entity, the pounding pain inside its head grew and grew till it finally relented.

“What do you want, huh? How do I get rid of you?”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, smiling innocently. “I need Gabriel, the archangel.”

The Cosmic Entity scowled at him, but between one instance and the next, the Messenger’s unconscious form appeared in front of Sam. “You get him in the condition I received him. No more.”

Sam sighed, but conceded. Holding the archangel tight to his chest, bridal style, Sam left his twisted doppelganger and the unrelenting blackness of the Empty behind.

Relief coursed through him as he watched Gabriel’s chest rise and fall, slow and rhythmic, in the soft light of the Bunker.

For the first time in a week, Sam felt a spark of hope flicker to life inside him.

It had been five days since Gabriel woke. He had lashed out at anyone who tried to approach him, watching everything carefully with wild, unblinking eyes. Sam sat on the opposite side of the room and spoke to him in hushed tones till that feral look turned into something more familiar.

“Sam?” Gabriel had said, the name falling from his lips like a hopeful plea.

The sound of his name, uncertain and cautious, had Sam letting out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his smile spread wide across his cheeks. “It’s me, Gabriel. You’re safe. You’re alive.”

Gabriel surged forward with inhuman speed and gripped Sam desperately tight, fingers clawing into his plaid shirt. Sam held the archangel close, one hand cradling the back of his head, unsure how to handle the protective instinct rearing up inside him.

This was a being of immense power, who could twist time and reality with less than a thought, and in that moment, Sam wanted nothing more than to hide him away from the world’s cruelty.

Sam murmured meaningless comforts as Gabriel shook, silent sobs wracking his body. Gabriel crumbled under the gentle circles traced on his back; Sam realised, with a spike of sorrow, that Gabriel likely hadn’t felt simple kindness in years, maybe longer.

Slowly, the tremors running through Gabriel ceased, giving way to the gentle rise and fall of breathing. Sam noticed, with a soft fondness, that the archangel had fallen asleep against his chest.

There was something so warming about knowing that Gabriel trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms, that Gabriel felt safe enough to lower his defences completely around Sam.

Trying not to jostle the archangel too much, Sam slipped one arm under Gabriel’s knees and curled the other around his shoulders, lifting him. He figured that whilst Gabriel was probably tired enough to sleep most anywhere right now, a bed was likely more preferable to the floor.

Sam made to leave, but felt himself held in place by a gentle yet unnervingly strong grip; Gabriel blinked up at him sleepily, raw fear and need clear in his eyes. He didn’t have to say a word, Sam just knew.

Please don’t leave.

If there was anything Sam understood, it was that desperate need to not be alone. To feel the warmth of someone else, to know that this was all real.

Gabriel had forced himself to be functional - for us, Sam’s mind guiltily supplied - long before he was ready. For weeks, Gabriel had forced one foot in front of the other, shaped himself into the image of normality, and his stability had crumbled.

Sam nodded and smiled. When Gabriel finally let his grip fall, Sam shrugged off his plaid shirt and toed off his shoes. He paused momentarily before undoing his belt, stepping out of his jeans. Down to just his boxers and undershirt, Sam pulled the sheet back.

“I’ll just, uh,” Gabriel mumbled, stumbling over his words as he began shuffle to the opposite edge of the bed. “Sorry. Bet you didn’t have spooning with a hot mess on your to do list today.”

“Gabe, it’s okay.”

The smaller man stilled as Sam pulled him back against his chest, then melted into the embrace. Sam was careful to make sure his grip was loose; he knew just how restraining a simple hug could feel in the depths of a panic attack.

It didn’t take long for sleep to pull Gabriel under, every remnant of tension in his body rolling away.

Sam slept lightly that night. Every whimper and every jolt woke him, had him humming gently against the top of Gabriel’s head, pressing soft touches against Gabriel’s palm till the archangel calmed again

Not for the first time - and he found himself hoping not for the last as well - Sam marvelled at the miraculous being in his arms. Where Lucifer had ran jarringly cold, Gabriel was a gentle warmth, like compassion and love embodied in a small frame.

It had been three days since Sam had last spoken to Gabriel.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Wherever Sam was, Gabriel was not. Sometimes he caught fleeting glimpses of the archangel turning a corner, but Sam was never fast enough to catch up to him.

He probably just needed some space, Sam reasoned. Resurrections were always disorientating, especially the first time - it took a while to get to grips with the fullness of life again.

It was the first time since his escape from captivity that Gabriel didn’t have a distraction to occupy his mind. There was no revenge mission to throw himself into, or bizarre interdimensional rescue to take part in. There was just processing.

Still, every day, Sam knocked on Gabriel’s door, called his name. There was never a response.

At night, Sam was almost certain he heard muffled sobs echoing down the hallway. Every time he reached Gabriel’s room, he found the archangel fast asleep, curled up and nesting amongst all the pillows and blankets he’d been able to find.

Often, Sam lingered a little longer than necessary, committing the peaceful sleep expression to memory, before the self-loathing and suffering tore it away again come morning.

“Why couldn’t you have just left me there?”

Sam started at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, blinking up from his book. Gabriel stood in the doorway, shoulders slumped, watching Sam. There was something in his expression behind the neutral mask, something vulnerable and angry and exhausted spilling through the cracks.

“What?” was all Sam managed in response, frowning.

“I was finally free,” Gabriel said, the forced neutral tone slipping, exposing the raw pain in his words. “I had finally escaped, and you- You dragged me back.”

“Gabriel... You’re free, you know that, right? You’re safe here.”

The responding bitter laugh flooded the library with tangible malice, twisting something uncomfortably deep in Sam’s stomach. Gabriel’s feigned cool expression was gone, lips twisting into a snarl.

“Am I free, Sam? Am I really?” Gabriel bit out sharply. “I owe you my life. My gratitude. My servitude. My shackles aren’t physical anymore, but they’re still there.”

“And what’s that meant to mean, huh?” Sam replied, narrowing his eyes. Gabriel lifted his chin defiantly, challenging Sam. “Do you even know how difficult it was to get into the Empty, to convince it to let you go?”

“I never asked you to bring me back. I never wanted to be brought back!”

Sam felt his stomach drop as it all clicked.

“Gabe-”

“I did the whole noble, self-sacrificing death for- for you!” Gabriel yelled, his voice cracking. He paused and dropped his head, drawing in a shuddered breath. “I have nothing left to give, Sam.”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, his tone careful and controlled, “You knew you couldn’t beat Michael, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“... You didn’t plan on coming back to this world, did you?”

Gabriel averted his eyes, dropping his chin. “No.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?” Gabriel replied, but the edge was gone - he just sounded tired.

Sam swallowed down his unease - there was something wrong about seeing his own demons and mental struggles mirrored in the Holy Messenger. “It does to me,” he said softly, watching as Gabriel shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

Gabriel froze for a moment, looking torn between running and opening up, then sighed. He sat down opposite Sam, elbows propped up on the table, but still avoided eye contact.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I know I’m free, but... I’m not. I’m still in that cage, still his little chew toy. I mean, what kind of archangel ends up as some demon’s bitch?” Gabriel laughed, but there was no amusement there, just pain and self-loathing.

“I always knew my brothers were better, stronger, that I was the runt of the litter. The holy offcut with a penchant for hedonism and humanity. Asm- uh, he didn’t just break me. He shattered me, and I can’t even begin put myself back together because I don’t know where all the pieces are.”

Sam wanted nothing more than to reach out, to offer a semblance of comfort to Gabriel as he opened up, but knew the archangel would simply shut down again if interrupted.

“I just- I wanted it to be over, Sam. I want it to be over.”

“I know how it feels. Trust me, I do. You just want it to be over, you want to escape it all and it seems like the only way.”

Gabriel stilled, his lips parted ever so slightly. Sam had his full attention. He wanted to be able to believe Sam, to trust in what he said, but there was still that lingering doubt at the back of his mind.

“Death isn’t the answer,” Sam said, watching the archangel carefully for any response. “It means no more suffering, but also means you never get to recover. You never get to rediscover the beauty in life.”

Gabriel’s lips drew into a thin line as he rubbed at his eyes with his palms, willing the growing urge to cry back down. “I don’t know where to start, Sam,” he said finally, his voice rough and low.

“I’ll help you,” Sam replied, offering up a hopeful smile. “We’ll all help you. One step at a time, Gabe.”

Gabriel nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Sam thought in that moment, Gabriel truly looked his age - the years weighed down on him, dragging his shoulders down, exhausting him to the bone.

“Come on,” Sam said, standing up and offering his hand. Gabriel looked up at Sam, furrowing his brow in confusion. “You need to rest.”

Gabriel allowed Sam to lead him by hand back to his room. He caught Sam’s wrist as the hunter made to leave, looked up at him with the same pleading eyes from days before.

“Stay?”

“Sure.”

#sabriel #sam winchester #gabriel #spn #supernatural #my writing #tw: suicide mention

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/supernatural-big-win-comic-con-2017/

A 'Supernatural' Big Win at Comic Con 2017!

For the past decade, there’s been one show that has inspired me to brave the insanity that is San Diego Comic Con again and again. That show is Supernatural. In 2007, it was the prospect of seeing Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki in person that made me throw caution (and possibly good judgment) to the wind and fly all the way across the country with almost no notice just to hopefully sit at the feet of the two actors who brought to life the characters that had entirely captured my heart. My friend Kathy and I slept on the sidewalk to get in early and raced through the hallways to the room where the Supernatural panel was, breathless but triumphant. This was long before SPN had proven itself able to fill the gigantic Hall H, so they were relegated to the much smaller Room 6CDE. Little did Comic Con know, Supernatural was already a fan favorite, with the line of SPN fans wrapped around and around the building and many disappointed fans unable to get into the room. Jared wasn’t able to come that year, but Kathy and I made it in and sat there beaming at Jensen Ackles and Eric Kripke sitting right in front of us. I managed to snag an autograph ticket through all sorts of machinations, and thus had my first actual conversation with Mr. Ackles, after which I found Kathy and immediately burst into tears. Fangirl problems, what can I say? I’ve been back to Comic Con almost every year since, in the audience for the Supernatural panel as others began to notice the show’s passionate fan base and move the panels into ever larger rooms, until finally, we were in Hall H itself.  If you’ve never experienced Hall H, it’s something to behold. The first time I walked in, my jaw dropped – the sheer size of it is overwhelming. I felt a swell of pride the first time Supernatural was deemed worthy of Hall H, and that feeling has never gone away. This year was no exception. The lead up to Hall H is an event in itself. Thousands of fans camp out overnight (or possibly multiple nights) to get a good place in line. Back in the day, fans were on their own – we sat on the sidewalk that first year, wrapped in blankets and grateful when someone came by with some coffee and donuts. Then fans camped on the grassy areas on the side of the convention center, a few with sleeping bags. Now everyone knows that for Hall H, if you want to be sure you’ll get in and get a decent seat, you camp out. Comic Con has moved the line, first to the walkways along the marina, and then to the line tents constructed for just that purpose. My more intrepid friends slept relatively comfortably in inflatable beds that looked like giant orange kayaks or lounged in deck chairs. Many fans had pop up tents. On Saturday night, it was like a giant Supernatural slumber party, and fans woke up to Misha Collins bringing them donuts in the morning. A few years ago, I spent Saturday night with Misha and Osric Chau delivering pizza to the Supernatural fans waiting in the Hall H line, Misha merrily pedaling along in a pedicab festooned with multicolored lights and fans’ jaws dropping when they saw who was thoughtful enough to bring them dinner. But that’s how unique this SPNFamily is – the fans care, the cast cares. And Misha, frankly, is awesome. This year, the Supernatural panel was the first of the day in Hall H, and anticipation was running extra high. Many of us had heard that they had something “special” planned, but no one knew exactly what it was.  There was a keyboard and drums on the stage, so fans were guessing that we might be treated to a Louden Swain performance – I’d chatted with Richard Speight Jr. and Rob Benedict on Friday night, so I knew they were there to probably host the panel, but maybe the rest of the band was too? There were other theories, but no one knew for sure. Anticipation was running so high, in fact, that they let everyone into Hall H extra early, the gigantic hall filling up as fans flooded in and grabbed seats. I caught up with lots of fellow fans, with hugs and excited exclamations all around, then finally it was time for the panel to start. WB publicist Holly took the stage and again told us we were in for a treat, and then the lights went down, and the show began. And OMG what a show it was! Hall H is surrounded by 3 gigantic screens that travel the length of the entire hall, which means they are MASSIVE. As we all watched in awe, Sam and Dean appeared in Baby, of course, traveling – where else? – to Comic Con. Seeing and hearing Baby roar around Hall H with her boys was absolutely awe inspiring, the Impala’s familiar rumble shaking the entire hall and thrilling us to the core. Then we heard the familiar chords of Supernatural’s unofficial theme song, Carry On Wayward Son, booming into the hall. Suddenly the lights went up and there on the stage was the band who made that song famous, Kansas! OMG, I have no words. The screaming was deafening, and then everyone – the tens of thousands of people packed into Hall H – started singing along. Kansas belted it out like the rockstars they are, and the emotion in the room was probably enough to fuel a small city for a very long time. I’m getting emotional again just thinking about it. Jared, Jensen, and Misha snuck out into Hall H and stood in the back watching along with the rest of us. Jensen later put it best in a tweet: Mind blown.  I’ll say. After that unbelievable beginning, Rob and Rich took the stage. It’s an unusual thing to have the Comic Con panel moderators be actors who are actually ON the show, but Supernatural is the very definition of an unusual thing. Anyone who has ever witnessed Richard Speight Jr and Rob Benedict hosting a Supernatural convention knows how ridiculously talented they are and just how quick on their feet. They are not only naturally hilarious, but they KNOW this show inside and out. They know this cast. They’re part of the family. Which all means they are the most fantastic panel moderators anyone could ask for. Showrunners Bob Singer and Andrew Dabb, along with Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, took the stage next. Jared and Jensen shared their customary fist bump that starts and ends most of their panels, and Jared pulled off his often present beanie to show off that glorious mane of hair that Richard had just joked would qualify for its own spinoff. Jared and Jensen had apparently tried on masks to go out into the crowd to watch Kansas, but couldn’t find any that worked. Richard: Can’t hide the hair and the bowlegs. He’s right. Talk about iconic… Misha Collins was conspicuously absent for a few minutes. That gave the others plenty of time to mock lament Castiel’s untimely demise. Bob Singer: We have to go where the story takes us…and I think the guys will agree that frankly, Misha had become a bit of a prima donna… (Jensen making a face) At that point they were joined by Misha Collins, who ambled onto the stage carrying his own tiny chair. Misha: No one told me to come out, but I heard my name, so… Rob: This is awkward… It was a hysterical bit, and Misha made the most of it, looking unexpectedly adorable in his tiny chair. Andrew Dabb joked that they made way too many good things happen in Season 12, so Season 13 will basically be death and sadness (but then again, what season of Supernatural hasn’t been that??) Conversation turned to Lucifer’s son Jack curled up naked in the corner at the end of Season 12, which led Jared to ask if a character died (cough Cas cough), would he come back naked? Andrew: I’m not sure we could afford the blur effects. Misha: Oh, because it would take up so much of the screen? Richard: Well, we all know that Jared has been very… accurate… on his twitter feed… In other words, the panel devolved into a discussion of penis size. As you do. Misha eventually reminded Jared that last year at Comic Con, Jared grabbed his phone and tweeted for Misha. Misha: Yeah, and apparently I tweeted I hate fans. Which is a great thing to post at Comic Con! They did manage to talk about the coming season too. A major theme of the early episodes is apparently that Dean and Sam disagree on how to deal with Jack, with Dean wanting to take him out and Sam being more optimistic. In other words, Supernatural tackles the nature versus nurture argument.  Andrew pointed out that Sam can put himself in Jack’s shoes, as someone who was once believed to be ‘destined’ to do something bad. Andrew:  And Jack himself will continue to struggle with that in our version of “Hell’s My 2 Dads”. Which really sounds more like fanfiction than canon, gotta say. The brothers also differ in how they view Mary’s future. Dean is pretty sure it’s curtains for Mom, and is ready to accept that even though he’s bereft. Sam is holding onto the hope that she could still be alive, which causes some problems between the brothers in deciding what they do next. Bob Singer: Spoiler alert, Mom is not dead. Jensen: WHA?? Jared (channeling Sam): I told you! There was lots of discussion about what the AU world beyond the rift could offer as far as Season 13, including the possibility of bringing back other characters, like they did Bobby. Rob: So could that open up the possibility for other characters to reappear in the same way? Bob Singer: You have anybody specific in mind? Rob: Am I coming back?? Bob Singer: Well you are God… Singer then joked that Gabriel wouldn’t be back, much to Richard’s dismay. He then went on to say that they love to tease Richard, but that they think his directing on Supernatural has been just fantastic, and they’re so happy with him. There were lots of cheers at that from the audience, because YES. Richard, in turn, complimented Jared and Jensen on keeping the show fresh and high quality with their performances for all these years. We learned that there will be some characters returning, including Missouri Mosely and of course Jody and Donna. Andrew: And some of the people who are dead in our world are very not dead but very different in the Apocalyptic world. The possibilities are endless! Jared gave a shout out to the fandom, saying that it was a lot harder when they began the show because they didn’t have “this badass family” to support them. Jared, Jensen, and Misha also talked about the eventual end of the show (something that I don’t want to think about, btw…) – Jensen had a very powerful dream about the end of the show and Sam’s death, and the three of them were talking about it recently, and all got choked up. Their characters are so much a part of them that they feel real, and the thought of Jensen as Dean losing Sam is now heartbreaking to Misha. Which is pretty amazing. Bob Singer told a story that he feels crystallizes the relationships they have all developed. One day Jared and Jensen came to him at the eleventh hour and said that they felt that Dean and Sam’s lines on that episode should be switched. When they rehearsed it, they were tripping over the dialogue and realized that it worked better with the parts reversed – and it worked. Bob: And I heard it and said yeah, that’s right. But the idea that they feel comfortable enough to want to make this honest change, and we’re comfortable enough with the actors to know this is not about ego, it’s about making the show better. Those relationships are why I’m still here. Jared: As much as we tease the short guy at the end [i.e., Misha], we all enjoy each other as people. We have a legitimate friendship outside of working together. And we have a lot of trust in each other. Richard: The show is about family, but it has become family. And the other members of the family? The fans. (Which is why the book I just published is called Family Don’t End With Blood, and why both all the actors and many of the fans wrote chapters about how this extraordinary show has changed their lives). One of my favorite answers was when a fan asked about favorite props. Someone in the audience yelled out “Baby!” Jensen (indignant): Baby is not a prop. Baby is a part of me. Awwww. Misha (smirking): My favorite prop is Dean. Jensen (deadpans): And that’s why he’s no longer with us. A fan asked what their biggest fears were, and Misha joked that it was sitting on stage in front of a large group of people while his friends made fun of him (i.e. exactly what was happening). Bob Singer promptly got up and took Misha by the hand and put him over in his chair, and took the tiny one himself, which was all kinds of sweet and prompted Jensen to give Misha a big hug. Richard: Misha, you are so fired for accepting that kind gesture… Jensen shared what he wrote about in his chapter in Family Don’t End With Blood – that 13 years ago, being in front of all these people would have terrified him. Jensen: It’s daunting, to get up in front of all these people and not trip over your words – or just not trip! There was a shout out to the Wayward Sisters spinoff, and then Richard asked if anyone had any parting words. Jared: Yes. Thank y’all. We wouldn’t exist like this if you didn’t exist like that, so this is 50/50 here. Thank you all for giving us a chance to play these characters and tell this story. If that’s not a classy way to end a panel, I don’t know what is. I had the chance to ask a few questions of Jared, Jensen, Misha, Andrew, and Bob later that afternoon in the press room. Both the cast and anyone who had been at the panel were still sort of blown away by the fact that Kansas had played for us, so spirits were high all around. I had done press rooms years ago, but it had been a few years, so I was busy worrying about my brand spanking new tripod being able to hold up my phone without tipping over when suddenly Jensen Ackles appeared at our table. That caused some minor panic and equipment fumbling on my part before I regained my composure, but that’s not exactly a rare occurrence for me and Mr. Ackles. However, I got a nice wink of acknowledgment so maybe he didn’t notice the fumbling. I’m going with that. Jensen started out still talking about Kansas. How adorable is Jensen fanboying over the band? Jensen: They were like, we’ve wanted to do this for years! And I was like, you mean they didn’t somehow con you into this?? You didn’t lose a bet? And then the lead singer said would you like to come up and join us onstage, and I think I had to change my pants. Jensen had a lot to say about the new season. He’s clearly excited about the Scooby Doo episode, joking that at some point Dean may try to put the moves on Daphne. Most of that episode takes place in “Scoobyland, self serving” and I can’t wait! It was interesting to hear Jensen say that he thinks that Dean always perhaps recognized that there was a bit of good in Crowley, so that even though his eventual sacrificeself-serving, it was also on behalf of the Winchesters in the end. God, I’m gonna miss Crowley! It sounds like Dean starts the season feeling overwhelmed, with too much to process, so Dean just wants to fall back on doing what he knows best and blowing something away. Sam jumps in to stop him, and Jensen acknowledged that there’s a bit of a struggle there. My question will surprise absolutely no one – I wanted to know how different it felt with the brothers not exactly being on the same page, since last season they mostly were. Jensen: It does feel different, but it’s certainly not going back to like seasons where they were completely at odds. Me: That’s good! Jensen: It’s more let’s figure out how to handle this situation. Sam wants to deal with it one way; Dean wants to deal with it another. They’re not gonna argue about it; they’re gonna eventually get to the same place, it’s just how they get there is a little different. Have to say, I loved what Jensen had to say about the brothers – and I loved what Jared had to say up next too. Jensen ended his chat with our table by saying that this crazy wild ride on Supernatural is not even a dream come true, because he could have never dreamed this. Me neither, Jensen! I had a few minutes to try to reposition my camera a bit closer so it would pick up less of the room noise and more of just the person talking, and then Jared took a seat at our table.  Someone jumped right in and asked a rather deep question about whether or not Sam realizes how much Dean had to be a parent to Sam as well as his brother. Jared: Sam does know. Sam and Dean love each other as much as two human beings can love each other, truly. Me: (silently from directly across the table) OMG my heart! Jared: That also means they’re going to hate each other and piss each other off sometimes. But it’s forgiven, between Sam and Dean. And Sam has been what Dean needed too…. They are there for each other, and Sam realizes it, and Dean realizes it. I don’t think either Sam or Dean doubt that the other loves them. Seriously, my heart. This show, damn it. Jared said there’s a bit of a role reversal this season in that Sam is overwhelmed by the situation with Jack – Sam sees a lot of himself in Jack, someone who was destined to be “bad.” He even wonders sometimes if Dean feels that way about him. (Nawwww, Sammy…) I asked Jared if it felt good to be playing Sam as the optimist this season. Jared: Yes, it does, but I think we both know he’s probably hiding some things in his optimism as well.  He’s not really dealing with some things. Me: A little bit of a defense? Jared: I think so.  And if there weren’t things to deal with, he’d be a weirdo, because he’s dealt with a lot in 13 years. Me: That’s true! Someone at the table asked about the eventual end of the show (which I didn’t want to think about right then, thankyouverymuch!). Jared got a little choked up imagining the very last time there will be a Supernatural panel at Comic Con, and I got a little choked up right along with him. He also talked about the day Jensen came to set after having that powerful dream about the show ending. I’ve also talked to Jensen about that dream, which had a big impact on him and was full of evocative images about something that clearly will be a very emotional time in his life. Jared: I remember the day he came to set and he kind of seemed shook up, and I thought maybe it’s something with the kids. I left him alone for a second and then finally when we had time to talk about it I was like dude, you all right?  And he told me the dream, and he was like shaking it off, it really affected him. It’s gonna be really difficult; I love these guys. I love these characters, and I love this family. Luckily in this Supernatural universe that we’ve created together, it won’t be over. Misha was next at our table and immediately made us all laugh. Someone asked what they’d given him to prep for these interviews. Misha: Jack shit! We usually get this paper, single spaced… (Interrupts himself to say hi to me, since he wasn’t expecting to see me in the press room, which kinda made my day) Misha: … that delineates the DNRs – the do not reveals, not the do not resuscitates – Everyone: cracks up Misha: And then there are bullet points of what we should talk about for the coming season… And for this year for Castiel it’s just ‘well, no one stays dead forever on Supernatural’ and I’m like thanks a lot for throwing me to the wolves! So I’ll just tell you everything that happens in the first eight episodes to spite them. Never change, Misha. He said that the most relevant aspect of Cas’ death is actually how the boys process his death. Sam and Dean go through a grieving process and have to deal with the loss of their friend. When Cas does come back, he’s in a realm that we’ve talked about before on Supernatural but have never seen. The Empty maybe?? Misha: And he’s in there alone with only one other being, played by… a great actor… Me: I totally thought you were about to tell us the name! Misha: (grinning slyly) Sorry. He clearly wasn’t, but that smile is so adorable it didn’t really matter. Misha also talked about how unusual it is to play the same character over the course of a decade in a vastly changing set of circumstances and the gradual evolution of their characters over time too.  It’s surprising to him how organic the process is because they know these characters so well that it just happens. In typical Misha fashion, he asked the last question of himself, which was about the very last GISHWHES. He’s very proud of it and encouraged everyone to sign up – which I’m happy to say I already did. This will be my third time, and every time has been amazingly fun and frenzied and utterly ridiculous. Hope you’re all joining me! Executive producer and showrunner Bob Singer joined us next, talked about how this season is about a family dealing with being torn apart. Ouch.  He reiterated that Dean just wants to “shoot it in the face” while Sam wants to see if Jack can be of help to them, specifically in maybe opening up the rift again so they can rescue Mary, which causes some head butting between the guys. This season will be smaller in scope, more personal and more emotional, Bob said, which makes me all kinds of excited. He also teased that we’ll see some familiar characters return, but in the AU so they’ll be not exactly the same – which is also very exciting. Singer also talked about the Wayward Sisters spinoff, which still makes me all squeeful whenever it’s confirmed as reality – I think a part of me still doesn’t believe it! The spinoff set up will begin in episode 3 with the introduction of new character Patience, be picked up in 9 and then continue in 10, which will be the pilot episode. Bob has gleaned a better understanding of how we roll over the seasons. Singer: We’re spreading it out a bit because as much as everyone wants to see Jody Mills, when you tune into Supernatural you want to see Sam and Dean, so we hope by spreading it out a bit, we’ll keep everyone happy. He paused and then smiled. Bob: Which hasn’t happened on 12 seasons of Supernatural, so I don’t know why I said that… I had to laugh, not gonna lie. Andrew Dabb was last to visit our table. He talked a lot about the AU, a world which has never had Winchesters, and the potential for some interesting situations as the universes mix, which I have to admit, has me intrigued.  He also talked about characters returning, but cautioned against overdoing it. Andrew: You don’t want to be like here’s character X and here’s character Y, but now they’ve got an eye patch, so they’re totally different… More laughter. These guys are all funny, which has got to be part of the reason this show has survived for 13 years! Dabb went on to say that even though Supernatural has a lot of history, they don’t want to just rely on nostalgia, like a character comes back just to be like hey and wave and walk away. Dabb: If we’re bringing someone back, they’re coming back for a reason. Apparently, a character named Michael will be back, but it may not be the Michael we know and love. Which makes me long for Matt Cohen… Everyone at the table was excited to hear that the show has not forgotten about the witch twins, who I think intrigued all of us. They deserve their own story, Dabb said. Yes! Someone asked if there will be any meta episodes this season, and Andrew said they don’t like to do them too often, and they want to be sure to do them in a way that’s respectful to the fans. That was a pretty nice way to end a press room. I ended the day with frozen pina coladas at the Harbor House restaurant overlooking the marina with my friend Laurena, our aching feet up on chairs while we reminisced about the past five crazy days. I always say I’m not going to do Comic Con again – it’s too exhausting, too hectic, whatever – but by the time I’m going through my photos and writing up my adventures, I’m already planning for next year. As long as Supernatural is there, count me in!

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Comic Con #Featured #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Supernatural

[wordstrings]

Dean’s Secret

written and submitted by @fluttersnfun (words: 3,100)

Edit: Now with Part 2!

On the surface, Dean Winchester looked and acted like the person that people expected when they saw him; tough as nails, not overly emotional, and certainly not into anything that wasn’t masculine. But scratch off the surface, and there was a lot more to Dean than at first glance. He enjoyed Vonnegut, understood mechanical engineering like nobody’s business, and he cared about his brother Sam, and boyfriend Castiel.

Dean also had hidden proclivities for certain kinks. Certain guy-on-guy videos he had watched over the years, anime tenticle girls, and lastly, the one he would be the most reluctant to ever share with anyone, let alone a partner, tickling.

Dean couldn’t explain why he liked tickling the way he did, he just did. Anytime he came across a tickling scene on tv, or saw it in real life, he became very uncomfortable, overly aware of his movements and reactions and would try to get away from that area as soon as possible. The only exception to that was his brother Sam. Tickling Sam growing up had never bothered him (it was his brother come on, the tall ass punk needed to be taken down or cheered up a bit every now and then).

For years, Dean was careful to hide this part of himself. This wasn’t always easy, he himself was exceedingly ticklish, even with the multiple layers he wore. He was the perfect target for revenge by Sam, and for playful behavior with the girl or guy he had decided to shack up with for the night. Both of these situations he could handle; with Sam he would protest and claim to hate it (though he was in truth enjoying it), escaping as quickly as possible, with lovers he would find other ways of distracting their attention.

There were times where he couldn’t ignore his liking of tickling, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. So he found ways of coping. For the times when he could guarantee that he had privacy, he would pull out the feathers that he kept in a bag tucked at the very bottom of his duffle, take off his shoes and shirts, close his eyes, and brush one of the feathers over his feet, under his arms, across his stomach, and other ticklish spots. Dean was surprisingly feather sensitive, and by closing his eyes, he could pretend that it was someone else using the feather to tickle him. For years this was how he handled his liking of being tickled, in complete secrecy.

These moments had expanded and changed some over the years. Not long after the boys had discovered the bunker, Dean had found a couple of metronomes and discovered that by tying feathers to each one, and then tying up his feet, he could more realistically pretend that someone was tickling him in a teasing, methodical, unwavering pattern.

More often than not, that person that Dean fantasized about was Cas. Ever since meeting and becoming friends with the angel, Dean had wondered what it would be like to be tickled by Cas, using his hands, angel mojo, or even his wings. These fantasies had only increased since Dean and Cas had become a couple. He would fantasize about Cas holding him down with his hands or with his angel mojo, tickling him with fingers and feathers, teasing him in that gravely voice, and Dean would be utterly gone, blushing and giggling as fantasy Cas indulged him in this secret enjoyment.

Dean had even found some of Cas’ feathers over the years, and had been using them as his tickle tools of choice for his private moments. Angel feathers, as it turned out, tickled a LOT more than regular feathers. Which was both good and bad for Dean, good because he could just use one or two of Cas’ feathers to make himself helpless with giggles, and bad because he found he had to gag himself to ensure he didn’t make a lot of noise.

One day, when Sam was off on a hunt with Eileen (those two were adorable together, even Dean would admit that), Dean realized he would have the bunker all to himself, with no fear of interruptions for several days.

He got everything set up, two metronomes, with a feather tied at different points on each metronome. He tied both feet to the foot of his bed so they couldn’t move away, using smaller ties on his toes so they would be spread out. He set one so that the feather would brush the soles of his feet, and the second one so the feather would brush his toes. He set the metronomes going, and was immediately glad he had waited until Sam was gone because there was no way he could have contained his laughter. The feathers were hitting so many of the right spots on each foot, going at a slightly differing pace so as to drive Dean mad with the different sensations. Even though only his feet and toes were tied up, he felt so vulnerable and exposed that he hugged his torso as he let loose gales of laughter.

The fantasy Dean had cooked up involved Cas tying Dean to the bed and tickling him with his feathers as Dean squirmed and writhed away, laughing helplessly as he was forced to realize not only how helpless he was, but how much he liked being helpless, and how much he liked being tickled, as Cas slowly took him apart. Feathers brushing his feet, Dean threw back his head, crying out in the midst of his laughter, “Cas please!” Begging for what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but begging none the less to fantasy Cas as he tickled away Dean’s resistance.

“Dean?”

Wait. Where had that come from? That almost sounded like…

“Dean, what is going on here?” “Why are you tied up?” “What are these devices?”

Dean opened his eyes. Cas, the real Cas, was standing at the foot of his bed, looking at him with questioning curiosity and slight concern.

Oh shit.

Dean sat up quickly, knocking over the small table the metronomes were set upon at the foot of his bed, and began trying to untie himself.

His mind raced, how long had Cas been there? Had he seen everything? Dean struggled getting the ties undone around his ankles and toes.

“Cas! What are you doing here!?”

Cas looked at Dean with further confusion.

“I came here when I heard you calling me. Your tone of voice was…most peculiar.” Cas said this as he stepped forward to examine the way Dean’s feet were tied.

“Why did are your feet tied up like this?” Did you do this yourself?”

Dean was so red it felt like a sunburn on his whole body. He gave up trying to untie his feet, and just covered them with the blanket on his bed. He tried to give some bullshit answer to the situation, but he couldn’t form the words.

Cas bent down and picked up one of the discarded metronomes to examine it.

“Why are feathers tied to these metronomes?” Cas asked. He brushed a couple of fingers along the feather itself, and looked up at Dean.

“These are my feathers.”

Dean could only nod as he covered his face with both hands. He gave up trying to make up a story. Now he was just afraid. Afraid that Cas would see him as a freak, would be insulted that he had used his feathers, and would not only end their new relationship, but also their friendship. Dean mentally cursed himself, he had gone a ruined the best thing that had happened to him in years.

Dean heard Cas set the metronome down, walk over, and felt the bed dip as Cas sat on the side of the bed. Then he felt Cas peel away his hands from his face. Dean looked away from Cas, shame flowing through his whole body.

“Dean, look at me.”

Dean still kept his head turned away, eyes closed, he didn’t want to see the look of disgust that would be on Cas’ face.

“Dean, please?”

Even in his utter shame, he couldn’t deny Cas when he asked with that voice. Dean slowly turned to face Cas, opening his eyes as he did. What he saw surprised him.

Cas was looking at Dean with concern and confusion, not judgement or anger.

“Dean, I don’t know what was happening here, but I can tell you are clearly in some distress. Please, can you tell me what is going on here? If you are truly uncomfortable with talking about it, I’ll understand. But I hope you’ll choose to share whatever this is with me. I won’t judge you or leave you, if that is what you’re afraid of.”

Cas was giving Dean an out. Dean desparately wanted to take it, but the look on Cas’ face had him considering the other option, telling Cas the truth.

After a few moments of silence, Dean took a deep breath.

“I tied myself to the bed.”

Cas nodded his understanding. “Ok.”

Dean shook his head. Even though Cas clearly wanted to know more, he wasn’t pushing Dean to give him answers. Dean didn’t deserve his boyfriend.

“I tied my feet up, and set up the metronomes.”

Cas looked at Dean, “Why were there feathers tied to the moving parts of the metronomes?” They appeared to be brushing your feet.”

Dean nodded, “That was on purpose. I set them up like that so that the feathers would…” Dean turned even redder as he tried to get the words out. He looked at Cas.

“You know how humans have physical sensitivities?”

Cas nodded. Dean continued.

“Well, one of those sensitivites involved using a light touch, and the sensation that touch causes creates a reaction, squirming, laughter, that sort of thing.”

Cas looked at Dean. “Dean, I understand what tickling is” Dean blushed at the mention of the word, Cas went on, “What I don’t understand is why you were subjecting yourself to that sensation. I was under the impression that you deeply disliked being tickled.”

Dean was squirming a little now, but he had opened this door, he’d best walk through it now.

“That’s only partly true. I dislike….being t-tickled by people I’m not famiar or comfortable with, and I dislike it when I’m in public.”

Cas looked at Dean with a mixture of understanding and confusion (don’t ask me how that’s possible, its a thing that Cas’ face can do).

“I understand that Dean. But I still don’t understand why you were willingly subjecting yourself to something you find unplesant?”

Dean looked away from Cas, “Because I don’t find it unplesant. I…I like it.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Cas gently used his hand to turn Dean’s face towards him.

“You like being tickled Dean?” Cas asked in a gentle voice.

Dean nodded, looking at Cas in the eye.

“Why do you like being tickled Dean?”

It wasn’t an accusatory question, rather, it was a sincere question, asked out of a desire to understand.

Dean swallowed.

“I like how it feels, the rush it causes under my skin. How its such a light touch and yet it effects me so much. Its like a release of physical sensations and emotional feelings, all of them positive. I…like how it makes me feel helpless and comforted at the same time. I like how its a way that I can be vulnerable with people I feel close to without having to talk or do anything, its just there.”

Cas looked at Dean with warmth and kindness.

“I think I understand Dean. You like both the closeness that tickling allows you to have with certain people, and the sensation itself, hence the devices you engineered” Cas said this as he gestured to where the metronomes lay motionless.

Dean nodded.

Cas looked at Dean, “May I ask you another question?”

Dean nodded again.

“Have you shared this fact, that you like being tickled, with anyone before?”

Dean shook his head, “No. The only person who knew about it was my mom, but that was when I was little and less selfconscious about it. I didn’t have to say I liked it, I could just lay across her lap or provoke her in sone other way, and she would tickle me.”

Dean smiled at the memory. “It was great, being understood like that without being judged or embarassed.”

Cas nodded, “And you haven’t shared that you like beig tickled with anyone since then?”

Dean shook his head, “Its not something I should like, its weak and childish-”

Cas stopped Dean from saying more, “No Dean, its not weak or childish. Tickling is meant to be a bonding experience, where the participants can feel what you described before. They can feel safe within vulnerability because of the trust that is established between themselves and the person or people tickling them.”

Dean looked down, or rather he tried to, Cas’ hand kept him securly faced towards the angel.

“Dean, there is nothing wrong with enjoying tickling, do you hear me?”

Dean looked at Cas, seeing nothing but sincere caring in his expression. Dean nodded in the affirmative.

Cas smiled gently at Dean. “Thank you for sharing this with me Dean. How shall I use this knowledge of you?”

This question caught Dean off guard, “How do you mean?”

“Should I use my judgement and observations of you regarding when it would be appropriate to tickle you, or would you prefer me to wait until you’ve asked me to tickle you?”

Dean felt it should be impossible for someone to blush as much as he had in the past several minutes. “Ummm…the first option. I don’t think I’ll be able to ask.”

Cas cocked his head in that adorable way. “And why is that Dean? Is it because you have difficulty saying the word “tickle”?”

Dean could tell that Cas wasn’t teasing Dean with the question, but it still caused him to squirm and a grin to start forming on his face.

Cas watched Dean’s reaction to his question, a smile of his own starting to take shape. “Do you like being teased as well Dean?”

Ok, now Cas was teasing Dean, and he couldn’t help his grin or squirming motions now, even if he wanted to.

Cas chuckled lightly seeing Dean’s reactions. “I’ll take that as a “yes”.”

Cas sat up and walked over to the foot of the bed. He lifted the blanket from Dean’s tied feet.

“I must say Dean, this is quite an impressive set up you have here. Would you be opposed to replicating this, with the change of my taking the place of the metronomes?”

Dean shook his head, “I um, I would like that, yeah.”

Cas smiled at Dean. “Good, I would like that as well. Now shall I assist in untying your feet?”

Dean looked at Cas with some confusion, “You mean you don’t…. I mean…I thought you were suggesting…”

Cas looked at Dean, then slowly smiled, “You thought my question was also a proposition for now?”

Cas looked down at Dean’s feet and toes, all trussed up and stretched out, and gently stroked a single finger up Dean’s left foot.

Dean’s whole body jerked, and though Dean had covered his mouth with a hand, he hadn’t covered it up in time to keep the giggle from slipping out.

Cas looked up at Dean, a playful expression on his face. “Now Dean, I would like to hear and see all of your reactions as I tickle you. Do you think you can keep yourself from hiding your reactions, or do I need to take measures to ensure that you can’t hide from me?”

Dean instictively covered up his face, he wanted Cas to take those measures, but he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud.

Dean looked up when he heard Cas walking back over to where his upper body was laying. Dean noticed that there was something in Cas’ hands.

“It appears that you require some assistance in allowing your reactions to unfold. Would it be ok if I tied your hands to your sides?”

Dean looked down at what Cas was holding, it was the excess rope left over from tying his feel up. Dean was about to say yes when a thought occured to him that made him blush and squirm.

Cas noticed this reaction, “Is there something you’d like to say Dean?”

Dean looked up at Cas shyly. “Um, do you think maybe…you could tie my hands up above my head to the headboard?”

Cas looked at Dean, “That would leave you quite vulnerable Dean. Not only would you not be able to hide your reactions, you wouldn’t be able to defend any of your ticklish spots. Is that what you want?

Dean nodded.

Cas cocked his head as he looked at Dean, “I need a verbal response from you Dean.”

Dean blushed, “Yes I want you to tickle me all over.”

Cas looked at Dean with raised eyebrows, but didn’t really appear surprised. “You volunteered more information than I think you initially intended. But since that is what you want, I will do what you requested Dean, but first”

Cas reached down to grasp the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, and pulled it up over Dean’s head. Dean lifted his arms, allowing the shirt to be pulled off of him more easily.

“Lets remove all barriers to allow you to fully experience how I’m going to tickle you Dean.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s wrists one at a time, tying them to the opposite ends of the headboard. When he was done, Dean was positioned in a Y shape. Cas reached down and gently manuvered Dean’s sweatpants so that his hips were completely exposed.

Dean looked up at Cas with surprise, “How did-”

Cas looked at Dean, “How did I know about your hips being ticklish? Dean, I rebuilt your body. I know each of its traits and quirks, and I know exactly where you are ticklish, not that there is a lack of ticklish spots on you.”

As Cas said this, he tickled Dean’s stomach, just to the side of his navel. Dean flinched and giggles poured out of him. The tickling was so much more intense now that he was tied up and couldn’t do anything to block or shield himself from the ticklish sensations running across and under his skin.

Cas smiled, not pausing his tickling fingers. “This is going to be very enjoyable Dean, for both of us.”

—

continue reading at part 2: Secret’s Revealed

#written for me! #author fluttersnfun #ticklish!Dean #ler!Cas #tickling #Supernatural #Destiel #Dean Winchester #Castiel #in case you didn't see my note earlier anon YES i want part 2!! #thank you thank you! #i'm in such a lee mood now it's incredible #submission #Dean's Secret #tickle fic