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rowyn-writes · 3 years

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Star Struck (Castiel x Angel!Reader)

Warnings: Language, a splash of angst, a little bit of fluff, make out scene

Pairings: Castiel x Angel!Reader

Characters: Cas, Sam, Dean, Gabriel, Jack (mentioned only) Mary (mentioned only)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When the Winchester's and Cas call on you for your help, Cas can't help but be star struck by your presence.

Requested by: @danitisx

You roamed the streets Dublin, Ireland. Fascinated by the beautiful scenery and amazing culture.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" A handsome man beside you asked.

"Indeed." You agreed. "Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, just up the road a couple of blocks. I've lived here my entire life. What about you? Where are you from?"

"Uh," You laughed as you scratched the back of your head. "I'm from the States. New York." You decided. It's not exactly like you could tell him you were an Archangel from Heaven.

"I'm Charlie, by the way." He gave you a cheeky grin.

"Y/N." You introduced yourself.

"Would you like to go out for a drink?"

"I would l-" You broke off as you felt a strange tug on your body. "Damn."

You were surrounded by a circle if Holy fire. You took in your surroundings. You seemed to be in some sort of emergency bunker. "What in Dad's name." You mumbled. "Alright, whoever summoned me here, if you don't show yourself, I'll smite you!" You growled, trying your best to be intimidating.

"Y/N." A soft voice said.

You whirled around to see a familiar angel. "Castiel." You breathed. "You're the one who summoned me here? Why?" You tilted your head to the side, similar to how Castiel would do whenever he was confused.

Two other familiar men emerged from around the corner. "Winchester's. Hello."

"Y/N. Good to see you again." Sam nodded.

"Ya know, if you wanted me here so badly, you could've called instead of summoning me here with a ring of holy fire. Which, by the way, is extremely uncomfortable."

"Sorry," Dean shrugged, throwing a glass of water, extinguishing the fire. "Precautionary measure."

"Fair enough." You slid off your black over coat and set it on the back of a chair. "So, what can I do for you boys? Do you need an elixir of some sort? An herb, perhaps? A spell?"

"They need some of your grace."

Your eyes darted from Castiel's over to him. You thought he was dead, long dead. This didn't make sense.

"You."

"Me." Gabriel smirked. "Hello, little sister. Long time no see."

"Yeah," You scoffed, raising your voice. "Long time no see because you dumbass got yourself killed by our brother! Or so I thought. Because to me, you look perfectly fine."

You trembled with anger. You had thought your brother was dead. You mourned him for so long. You cried for him, and there he was, alive and healthy. For now.

"Y/N-" He sighed.

"No! You don't get to talk, asshat!" You growled. "You let me believe you were dead for years! I cried for you, I prayed to you, to Dad! And there you are, fine and dandy."

Sam, Dean and Cas stepped back a little, giving you and your brother some space. Out of everyone, they understood family problems.

"You son of a bitch!" You screamed, using your powers to slam Gabriel into a wall. He gave out a small grunt as his back hit the cold brick wall. "You let me think you were dead! How could you?!" You clenched your fist, making it harder for Gabriel to breathe. "You were my best friend! My brother! And you heard how much pain I was in and decided to let me keep suffering! You insufferable dick!" Your eyes were glowing a bright blue.

"Y/N!" Castiel called your name, trying to calm you down. "Y/N! Stop." He rested a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You need to calm down. Let Gabriel explain."

"You guys have ten minutes to explain everything that's going on before I get my ass out of here and never come back."

The men sat you down and explained everything that happened in your absence. Including your nephew.

"You're telling me Lucifer has a son?" You questioned. "Someone actually wanted to have sex with my brother?"

"Uh, well, Kelly thought that Lucifer was the President." Sam coughed.

"The Presid-" You cut yourself off. "Okay. . . Clearly I've missed a lot. So, you want me to give you some of my grace in order to get Jack and your mother back?"

"Yes." Dean nodded. "You're our only option left. Gabriel tried to help, but most of his grace was drained by Asmodeus and it'll take time to replenish."

"Fine. I'll help."

"Really?" Cas said hopefully. "You'll help us?"

"Of course." You gave him a gentle smile. "Jack is my nephew after all. He needs a female figure in his life. And I refuse to let him be corrupted by Lucifer. My brother won't have any contact with Jack if I can help it."

"Why do you care so much about Jack?" Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "You've never met him."

"Doesn't mean I love him any less. He's family. And until recently, I thought everyone I loved was dead. So I can deal with the fatigue and snappiness that comes with losing some of my grace."

"Thank you." Cas said gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"Okay." You took a deep breath. "Could I get some help with extracting my grace? I'd do it myself, but I can be a bit squeamish." You looked over at the beautiful blue eyed man in a trench coat. "Would you help me?"

"Oh," Cas seemed to be flustered. "O-of course."

You grabbed the tool and headed into an empty bedroom. "Okay, let's get this over with." You said, pushing your hair to one side of you shoulder to let Castiel extract your grace. "Just. . . Be gentle, okay?"

Cas nodded, still seeming unnerved. "You're scared. Why?"

"Well. . . You're one of the most powerful angels to ever walk the earth. You were one of God's favorites and most trusted. You led an entire army of angels into battle with demons. You banished the Princes of Hell back into Hell. You're amazing!"

You gave Cas a soft smile. "That's very sweet of you, Castiel. But I'm not the same angel anymore. I'm certainly not Father's favorite anymore. He was the one that cast me out of Heaven after he found out I had relations with a human. I'm not amazing. I'm ordinary."

"Well, you're extraordinary to me. You're helping us get Jack and Mary back. Even though you don't have to."

"It's the least I can do." You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. "You and the Winchester's have saved the world more than once. Granted, you almost ended it as well, but at least you fixed it. Plus, I can tell these people mean a lot to you."

"They do. They're my family."

"And I'm very happy that you've found your family, Castiel." You cupped his face in both of your hands. "You were a wonderful servant to Heaven, and an even better leader when the time came. You deserve to be happy after all the havoc that's happened to you." You pulled away, resting your hands in you lap.

"You would have been far better than I was. You are a good angel, and an amazing leader."

"I'm no better than Lucifer."

"Y/N," Castiel said in astonishment. "You are nothing compared to Lucifer. You are compassionate and kind. You care about people."

"But when the world was ending, I was off galavanting around the world. And when people were in danger and dying, I turned a blind eye and let it all happened!" You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks. "If I don't help, then I'm part of the problem, Castiel. I yelled at Gabriel for disappearing, but I did the exact same thing. I left, I left Heaven, my brother's, all of the other angels, I left them. For a jackass human that never really loved me. So you ask me why I'm doing this for you? I'm doing it because I've never done anything good in my existence. Ending that war with the demons, sure, it saved humans in the long run, but I never cared about that. I was just following Dad's orders. Like a good little soldier."

"Y/N," Cas began.

"Just. . . Take my grace. . . Please?"

Castiel frowned as he gingerly brushed your hair aside. "This might sting." He warned as he plunged the extractor into your neck. You winced, gripping your leg in order to cope with the pain. Cas ended up getting five vials filled with your grace.

"It should replenish eventually, but it might take some time."

You went to stand up, but immediately felt lightheaded. Cas came behind you, holding you up. You inhibitions were lowered when you lost grace, and this time was no exception.

"Has anyone ever told you you have the most beautiful eyes?" You smiled. "They're like the ocean."

Castiel's face tinted pink and he gave a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Y/N. You have very beautiful eyes as well."

"Is that the only thing you find attractive about me, Castiel?" You ran a finger along the length of his arm.

"I- Um. . ." The angel was flustered once again. "Well, o-of course there are other things attractive about you. You're gorgeous. Your lips are perfect, t-they look very soft."

"Why don't you find that out yourself." You smirked. You pulled Cas down by his tie, his lips meeting yours.

Castiel was hesitant at first, and you knew he never really understood kissing. You moved your lips against his, and he finally understood. You didn't even know you had been moving until your back hit the brick wall.

You hands got tangled in his dark hair, while his wrapped around your waist.

There was a loud bang at the door, making Cas pull away from you. "If you're done making out with my sister, we kind of need this show on the road." Gabriel called from the other side of the door.

"Cockblocker." You grumbled. "That was one hell of a kiss, Cas. We should do it again sometime." You gave him a wink as you headed back to the library.

"I need a cold shower."

#castiel imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jack kline imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #dean winchester imagine #gabriel imagine #jack kline #jack kline x reader #gabriel x reader #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #sam winchester fluff #dean winchester

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clairenatural · 4 years

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Suptober 2020, Day 23: Favorite (destiel, 1.2k. fluff!)

It gets destroyed on a hunt, slashed clean through to his arm. Dean rips off a strip to tie around the wound and discards the rest of the flannel in a nearby trash can. He fixes his shirts, when he can—he’s had some shirts for a decade or more that way, and he’ll fix up his favorites until they’re just lumps of dollar store sewing thread if he has to—but the fallen shirt isn’t his favorite. He’s had it for a decade, too, but he barely wears it. He pulled it out of the back of his closet on laundry day, probably, and has kept it in his duffle bag for hunts ever since. It’s off-white and gross yellow and muted red and it has snaps, not buttons, and Dean’s not sure why he kept it around anyway.

So it meets its end, ripped and bloody, in a trash can. And Dean doesn’t think much about it. They limp back to the motel and Sam patches up his arm and he throws away the impromptu bandage, and that’s that.

Except it’s not, because two weeks later there it is—hanging in his closet, good as new. Well, not good as new, but the hole has been sewn up and the torn edge has been patched with a plaid that matches remarkably well. It’s obviously hand done, and the stitches are meticulous if not exactly skilled, and Dean pulls it off the hanger and stares at it for a moment before groaning. Of course the ghost had to somehow follow them home. “Sam!” he yells, already backing out of his room in search of salt. “We have a problem!” At least flannel burns.

Castiel answers him before Sam does, nearly colliding with Dean in the hallway as he steps out of his own bedroom. “Dean, what—” he starts, but then stops himself, frowning. “Why are you holding that shirt like it’s going to bite you?”

“Keep it moving, Cas.” Dean tries to step around him. There isn’t time for questions. “This got shredded on the hunt but here it is again, good as new. I’m thinking our ghost friend hitched a ride somehow.”

Cas’ eyes widen, and he hastily moves to block Dean’s way again. “No.”

Dean furrows his brow, but stops moving. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, there’s no ghost.” Cas looks down, avoiding eye contact. “I did that. I fixed your shirt.”

What.

Dean must be staring, because Cas continues in a rush. He sounds nervous. “I noticed it was destroyed, so I went back and got it, and...well. I tried my best.”

Dean thinks about how Cas took longer than usual on his beer run that night. At least the timing makes sense, but everything else? He frowns. “Okay, uh. Why?”

Castiel finally looks up at Dean, then. He considers his next words carefully, long enough that Dean half expects him to turn and walk right back into his bedroom without answering. “Because it’s my favorite.”

He says it so calmly, so straightforward, like it’s the most obvious answer. It’s the same way he always says these things—the same tone as because God commanded it so many years ago, like both are just facts of the universe, and—wait a second.

Dean looks at the shirt. He looks back at Castiel, who seems to be watching the gears turn in Dean’s head. He suddenly remembers meeting Sam in a motel room and pulling off Bobby’s old Henley to change into one of Sam’s old flannels. He remembers driving four hours to see a psychic and complaining to Sam about the cuff snaps on the drive. He remembers a barn, with Bobby, waiting for a monster that turned out to be an angel.

“Hold on,” it clicks into place. “Is this—this is that shirt? From the barn.” The last part isn’t a question.

From the smile on Cas’ face, Dean knows he’s got it right. “Yes.”

“And it’s your favorite.”

“Yes.”

“Of my shirts.”

“Yes.”

“I never even wear it, man.”

“And yet you’ve kept it for twelve years,” Cas points out, and, well, damn. He’s got him, there.

Dean shifts and breaks the eye contact, feeling strangely sheepish. “Yeah, well. It’s a good shirt,” he mumbles, but Cas looks amused and Dean knows he’s not fooling either of them. It’s not a good shirt.

“You never even wear it,” Cas echoes, then—“man,” he adds, after some consideration, and it’s so oddly endearing coming from Cas’ mouth that Dean can’t be mad he’s been caught in his lie.

Cas steps forward and reaches out to touch the flannel, trains his gaze on the shirt before he starts talking again. His tone has become solemn. “This shirt is my favorite because that night, in the barn—” he takes a breath, “—was the most important night of my long, long life. And I couldn’t bear to see it discarded. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” He glances back at Dean, then, and Dean—unsure of how to process that—gapes back at him, and they stand there for several long seconds just staring at each other.

Finally, Dean’s brain catches up, and it’s like everything slides into place. He smiles and takes a step closer. “You know why I kept this shirt for twelve years, Cas?” he asks, because he remembers, now. He’s not sure how he ever forgot.

“Why?” Cas replies, just as quietly, and Dean’s not sure when they started whispering but it fits how heavy the words feel.

Dean is planning something intelligent to say in response, like because it was the most important night of mine, too or because I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t been the one to save me or even you told me that night I deserve to be saved, and so does this shirt. But between blinks Castiel has somehow managed to move even closer, close enough that their noses are almost touching, and suddenly no words seem like they’ll be enough. And maybe some part of his brain is finally fed up with the decade of pining, maybe his logic brain is still distracted by trying to detangle why Cas would hand-stitch his old shirt with that much care, but it suddenly seems like the only thing that would be enough would be...to close the gap and kiss him.

So he does.

Cas kisses him back before he has the chance to second-guess this decision, and Dean drops the flannel to wrap both arms around Castiel’s waist as his hands move up to Dean’s face, to his hair. He crowds Dean against the hallway wall, and Dean is suddenly very glad that wherever Sam is, he was too far away to come running when Dean called.

They break apart eventually because, unfortunately, humans do need to breathe, and Dean leans their foreheads together as he struggles to catch his breath. “I guess I should wear that shirt more often, huh?” he grins down at Castiel, who chuckles and presses a kiss to Dean’s jaw.

“No, Dean. It’s not a good shirt.”

Dean pulls back as far as the wall will allow, eyebrows raised. “I thought it was your favorite.”

“It is, because that night is my favorite. Because you are my favorite.” Cas is staring at him in something close to exasperation, as if Dean should have figured this out by now.

Dean just smiles and kisses him again.

#suptober20 #destiel #deancas #destiel fluff #deancas fluff #first kisses #i was so mean to the shirt in this #it's not that bad lmao it's a fine shirt #the pacing here is odd but.#felt good to WRITE again! sorry ive been so spotty w suptober :/#my words

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fics-of-culture · 3 years

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Of Shortcomings and Short Winchesters

Requested by anonymous

Castiel x Short Female Reader

Summary: The youngest Winchester had always been on the shorter end of the spectrum. What happens when our favorite trench coat wearing angel makes her feel insecure about that fact? Very minimal angst. Mostly fluff.

Words: 2,433

You were sitting silently in front of the desk in Bobby’s house, pouring over dozens of lore books pertaining to both heaven and impending the apocalypse when you felt it again. Eyes were boring into the back of your head for the third time in the past twenty minutes. You snap your head to side, just fast enough to see the side of Castiel’s face as he turns away from you and pretends to observe some of the books on the shelves behind you. This sort of thing had been happening a lot lately. While your brothers were out on hunts, Castiel had taken to spending more time with you at Bobby’s. The two of you were currently searching for solutions to this whole ‘apocalypse’ conundrum. Apparently Castiel, or Cas as your brother Dean had started referring to him, had also taken to observing you when he thought you were unaware. You turn your head back to the book before you before deciding to call him out on his not so subtle staring.

“Do you need anything, Cas?” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice, but to be frank, you’d appreciate Cas’ presence a little more if he were actually working and not just gawking at you. You’re not sure you did a very good job at seeming neutral because the moment you spoke, the angel froze. Like he’s been caught with his hand halfway in the cookie jar. Not that angels needed such sustenance, as Cas frequently reminded you whenever you offered him food, but you get the gist of it.

“No.” Castiel managed to choke out after some time, his voice seeming gruffer than usual. ‘As if that’s even possible’, a helpful part of your brain chimes out. You shrug off the thought as he continues. “Actually, I was just about to ask if you needed my help with anything.” ‘Anything?’ Your traitorous mind ponders. You turn your head to observe Cas for the first time since this conversation started. His head was cocked to the side in that adorable way of his as he awaited your response.

“Actually now that you mention it,” You say, thoughtfully. Rising from your seat, you brush past the bashful angel as you step in front of the bookshelf Cas was just staring at. “Sam mentioned one of these books needing translation.” You tell him as you attempt to find the book Sam spoke of earlier. You’d looked through each shelf before you found it… sitting comfortably on the top shelf. You let out a small sigh as you look at it, silently debating the least embarrassing way to get your hands on it. It was no secret that you had not been gifted with the same freakishly long legs that your brothers had inherited from the family. But that being said, you’d still like to humiliate yourself as little as possible in front of the perfect angel you’d come to know as Castiel. Sure, he was nice, but you weren’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t tease you if he saw you hoping up on a stool just to get one book down. With this thought in mind, you hesitantly raise your arm, pulling your body up on your tiptoes to see if you can’t reach the book by yourself. Your shirt rides up as you stretch, showing off a small portion of your back. Your fingers brush against the spine of the book and you can immediately tell that you’re not gonna be able to pull it out. You’re just about to sigh and admit defeat when you feel a hand placed gently on your hip. A chest presses against your back as you see a trench coat clad arm reach up to join yours. This arm has a much longer reach, however and manages to easily pull the needed book off the tall shelf. You let your arm drop uselessly by your side as Castiel steps away from you, lore book in hand.

“You um… you seemed like you were having trouble.” Cas gestures towards the shelf awkwardly as he explains himself. You try to swallow your embarrassment and having needed help before turning back to the task at hand.

“Thanks.” You say shyly. He gives you a small smile before turning back to the newly retrieved lore book.

“So, did Sam say which pages needed translating?” He places the book on Bobby’s desk before leafing through a few pages. You move to stand next to him as he searches through the book. He flips through most of the book before you spot a few highlighted pages.

“There,” You point out to Cas. “Sam said he highlighted the part he couldn’t understand. He said he couldn’t even tell what language it was in.” Cas nodded as he looked over the page.

“I’m not surprised Sam couldn’t understand this. It’s Enochian.” Castiel’s finger trailed over the page as he started to translate it. Eyes squinting slightly as he focuses on the page before him.

“Enochian?” You asked. Cas let out a grunt of confirmation as he read.

“It is the language of the angels.” He told you distractedly. Clearly focused on his task of translating the angelic language. You let out a small ‘huh’ as you observed the page. The script was beautiful, you observed idly. You allowed your fingers to trace over the printed runes away from the text Castiel was reading, not wanting to distract him as you observed his language. You seemed to have failed in this endeavor however, as when you looked up from the page you noticed that Cas had paused his reading and was instead staring intently at your small hand as it glided along the page. You decide to break the tension that was suddenly filling the room.

“So you can speak this language?” this question seemed to break the angel out of his trance. He cleared his throat before looking up at you.

“Yes, although it is quite difficult for humans to understand.” You nod as he explains. “This however,” He gestures back to the book. “Will be of no use to us. It has no information on the apocalypse and is instead a guide on angel reproduction.” You feel your eyebrows shoot up as he says this.

“Angels can reproduce?” Castiel looks positively sheepish now. A slight blush rising on his face.

“Sometimes.” He says quietly. He clears his throat again. “But it is not the same as human reproduction. Humans are… unique in their manner of reproduction.” Cas’ sentence trails off uncertainly and you start to realize just how uncomfortable the topic seems to be making him. So naturally you decide to continue it, if only to see how red you can make the trench coat wearing angel turn.

“How so?” You ask innocently. Castiel seems to be desperately avoiding your gaze now.

“Like uhh…” He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. All the while studying the wall in front of him, as though it held the answers he was seeking. “Genetics!” Castiel exclaims suddenly, turning to meet your eyes again. You can’t help but find yourself a bit disappointed that Cas had managed to dig himself out of the hole he had been creating. Cas continues regardless. “For example, it is strange to me how some members of a family can look as though they do not belong.” You couldn’t help but feel a little lost at the sudden turn the conversation took. But you decided to humor Cas by going along with it.

“I don’t think I follow.” You tell him, waiting patiently for him to clarify.

“Like you and your brothers. It is odd that out of your entire family, you look as though you could possibly be completely unrelated to the others. What with your small stature and the Winchester family’s history of having tall offspring.” This statement caused you to freeze in place. Somewhere in the rational part of your brain you knew Castiel didn’t mean it like that, but it was too late. Years of repressed insecurity managed to take hold of your brain. Years of feeling you weren’t good enough. Not large enough both literally and figuratively, to fill the shoes of your hunter family. Not good enough to to be taken out on hunts with your brothers. Not strong enough to save your father. Not even tall enough to be considered a Winchester. If Cas noticed the shift in your mood as he spoke he did not show it. Instead, he seemed content to rattle off facts about genetics in different species. You couldn’t stay here. You turned away from Cas suddenly, making some excuse about needing to use the bathroom before rushing out of the room. Leaving a confused angel in your wake.

You had spent the past few hours holed up in one of the spare rooms in Bobby’s house. To take your mind off of Cas’ harsh words you let your attention be completely consumed by lore. Bobby had gotten home an hour ago and even knocked on your door, but you couldn’t find it in you to get up and greet him. He must’ve been able to tell that you weren’t feeling well because he left you alone after that. Somewhere in your mind you’re aware that you shouldn’t be letting Castiel’s words affect you like this, but some days it was difficult not to let your insecurities consume you. And it had hurt all the more hearing the words fall from Cas’ lips. You regarded his opinion very highly. He was a practically perfect angel after all. And the idea that he might see you as being the weak link of your family hurt more than you’d like to admit. You had been working up the courage to leave your safe haven when you heard a commotion down the hall. It sounded like two voices having a heated discussion. Well, one voice on the receiving end of a heated discussion. But try as you might, you couldn’t really make out what they were saying or who was speaking. A few moments later and the hall was back to being silent. You were just about to stand up and see what was going on when a knock sounded at your door.

“Y/n? May I come in?” You hear Castiel’s voice, muffled by the door. You steel yourself before telling him to come in. You wait with bated breath as he silently enters the room, stepping carefully as though he would startle you if he made any noise. “May I?” He speaks softly as he gestures to the bed in the center in the room. You nod and he seats himself a bit unsurely on the bed. You place yourself beside him, waiting to see what he wanted. His eyes were focused on his lap as he spoke. His posture resembled that of a reprimanded child. “You disappeared earlier. And when Bobby returned home, he seemed to think that I had somehow managed to upset you. I’m unsure whether this is true or not, but I came to tell you that if I managed to offend you, I am sorry. I did not mean to.” Your guarded exterior melts a bit when his eyes meet yours. His piercing gaze seemed to desperately search yours. Looking to see if he truly had caused offence. You let out a small sigh as you try to think of how to explain to an angel that his earlier words had hurt you.

“I know you didn’t mean to, but you hurt me earlier when you said I did not look like a Winchester.” Castiel opened his mouth suddenly as if to dispute you, but you carried on. “I’ve spent my entire life feeling like I’m not good enough for this family, so to have you remind me of one of my many shortcomings… it hurt.” Castiel slowly closed his mouth and let out a sigh as he looked back again at his lap. The room remained silent for several minutes.

“It is not a shortcoming.” You hear Cas whisper quietly to himself.

“What?” You ask. His head jerks up suddenly and he fixes you again with his piercing blue eyes.

“Your height. It is not a shortcoming. And it certainly has no effect on how I view you as a hunter. In fact, smaller fighters have many advantages over larger adversaries.” You smile softly at him as he speaks, resting a hand on his knee. He turns to look at it as he continues. “Besides, it is my understanding that some men find themselves more attracted to short women.” You chuckled a bit as Castiel spoke shyly, not daring to face you.

“Did you just call me cute?” You ask hesitantly.

“I believe I called you ‘attractive’” Castiel corrected as he turned to look at you. His face slightly flushed from the sudden turn in the conversation. He was biting his lower lip nervously. You felt yourself growing bold.

“Do you find shorter girls attractive, Castiel?” You slid closer to him as your hand slid a bit up his leg. The angel stared at you dumbfounded for a moment, before visibly plucking up his courage. His back straightened as he regarded you.

“Only if that girl is you.” He spoke so quietly you weren’t entirely certain you had heard him at all. But the look he was giving you all but confirmed what he had said. His eyes sliding down your face every few seconds to observe your lips. Giving them a look that could only be described as a desperate need. “I have enjoyed getting to know you recently. I find myself spending a surprising amount of time thinking of you.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his confession. Castiel starts to lean in slowly. Watching your face for any sign of hesitation. When he is only a hair's breadth away he pauses. “May I kiss you, Y/n?” You nod. Not trusting yourself to speak in this moment. A look of pure relief flashes across Castiel’s face before he closes the gap between the two of you. It is several moments before you break the surprisingly heated kiss. Your head resting against Cas’. If an angel could be out of breath, that is how you would describe him in this moment. You let out a small chuckle and Castiel cocks his head slightly.

“My brothers are gonna kill you.” Cas’ smile grows even wider at this.

“For you, I would fight through a thousand Winchester brothers.”

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #spn castiel #castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel imagine #castiel fanfiction #spn #reader insert

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splendidcas · 4 years

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Stuck in the Middle with You (Part 2)

*repost from when tumblr deleted all my nsfw works*

Summary: based off of 12x12

Pairing: Cas x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: smutty smut. do not read if you are not at least 18 years of age!

Part 1

As soon as you slid into the backseat of the Impala beside Castiel, he pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. You immediately made yourself comfortable and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and taking in the sweet, woodsy smell that was uniquely Cas.

He kept his arms protectively around your waist, securing you to him as he buried his face in your hair. Every now and then, he’d murmur sweet nothings in your ear and phrases that sounded a bit like Enochian. You had no idea what they meant, but the foreign words nevertheless soothed you to your very core as you snuggled deeper into his chest.

Neither of the boys said anything the entire drive, instead respecting yours and Cas’ space, which you were grateful for. It wasn’t until Dean swerved the car to avoid hitting a deer that the peaceful quiet was finally broken.

You flew forward into Cas, your hips accidentally rocking against his trousers as you gripped onto his shirt for purchase. His grip on your waist tightened, and you were sure you heard a faint groan escape his lips.

“Shit, sorry guys,” Dean grumbled. “Damn deer came out of nowhere.”

Cas looked down at you, concern and a glimmer of something else evident in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose with his.

Cas loosened his grip a bit at your answer, and you realized you were a little uncomfortable. Shifting your hips, you sat up a bit, and Cas stiffened underneath you, clearing his throat.

“What?” you asked, quirking a brow at him.

He looked around uncomfortably, lifting one of his hands to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “I think—um…”

You eyed him curiously before he shifted his hips and—oh. Cas was hard beneath you, and his cock rubbed right between your legs. You let out a surprised whimper, biting your lip. You rocked your hips forward one more time, just to watch his reaction.

He closed his eyes at the feeling. “Y/N,” he grumbled in your ear, his hands sliding up your back. “That feels good.”

You grinned against his neck, placing a kiss there as you rocked your hips again.

“Y/N.” His fingers dug into your back then, his hips barely thrusting up in search of more fiction. He whispered in your ear, “I want you. I don’t want to waste any more time pretending otherwise.”

You lifted your head then, looking into his eyes. “Me neither,” you whispered breathlessly, your lips brushing his as you spoke. “Looks like we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Cas’ eyes darkened immediately, and he was about to say something when Dean pulled into the bunker garage.

“Hell of a night, guys,” Dean muttered, parking the car and opening the door to get out. “I think I’m gonna sleep for a year.”

Sam chuckled, scratching the back of his head and getting out of the car. “Same. Night guys. And Cas? Glad to have you back.”

“Yeah,” Dean chimed in. “You gave us a hell of a scare.”

Cas helped you out of the car, pulling you to his side as the two of you walked into the bunker with the boys. “I know. I’m glad to be back, too. Goodnight, Sam, Dean.”

“Night,” you added.

As soon as the boys were out of earshot, you practically yanked him down the hall to your room, waltzing into your bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Cas smiled at you, taking a step forward and placing a hand on your waist while the other came up to rest on your cheek. “I love you.”

You beamed, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. “I love you too. So much.”

And before you could open your eyes, Cas’ lips were on yours, soft but demanding as he walked you back toward the bed. He gently lifted you onto the bed and laid you down, his lips never leaving yours as he shed his trench and suit jacket. He kissed a line down your jaw, finding a sensitive spot just below your ear and nibbling on it, eliciting a soft sigh from you.

He kept you close as his lips continued to make their way down your neck, his hands simultaneously unbuttoning your blouse and helping you shimmy out of your jeans. He began whispering words of Enochian against your skin as he unhooked your bra, his tongue flicking out against your skin every now and then, making you squirm.

“Cas, what—what are you saying?” you asked breathlessly.

He sat up then, looking at you affectionately. “I love you, you are my light, you make me whole.”

“Castiel,” you whispered, giving him a watery smile as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I feel the same about you.”

Cas was positively beaming then as his lips took yours, his hand sliding down your stomach and cupping your wet heat. You moaned against his mouth, bucking your hips up against his hand, desperate for more.

“Wet,” he groaned in your mouth, feeling the wetness seep through the thin material of your panties. He gripped the sides of them and yanked them down your legs, pulling you up so that you were chest to chest with him.

You pulled your mouth away from his, catching your breath as you looked at him. He watched you in awe as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt, smoothing your hands up his chest before you pushed his shirt off of his broad shoulders. He closed his eyes and sighed contently at the feeling of your touch.

“We need to get those pants off,” you whispered, a smile on your face.

Cas opened his eyes then, giving you a sheepish grin as he scooted off the bed and unbuckled his pants, pulling them down with his boxer briefs in tow and revealing his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” you whispered, biting your lip as you took in the sight of him.

He smirked at you as he climbed back on the bed, pulling you onto his lap as he looked up at you.

You smiled then, pressing your hands on his chest, a silent request for him to lay back. His brows furrowed curiously, but he laid back, watching you silently.

Your eyes explored his entire body, taking him in and appreciating every little detail. You leaned down, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, grinning widely when he scrunched his nose up.

“You are so damn cute,” you grinned, swallowing his response with a kiss.

And then you continued, kissing all along his neck and down his chest, stopping momentarily to swirl your tongue around his nipples, your pussy clenching at the groan that left his lips. You lifted your head then, sliding your hands up his stomach and his chest as you watched him sigh. And then you gripped his cock, lifting yourself up and placing him at your entrance.

“Please,” he groaned, his hands clenched into fists.

“You want it?” You bit your lip in anticipation.

“Yes,” he groaned. “So much, please.”

Immediately you sunk down onto him, impaling yourself on his thick, hard cock. You both cried out at the feeling of him stretching you deliciously, filling you to the brim. He sat up then, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. The two of you were still for a moment, panting and desperately gripping onto each other as you relished in the feeling of being so complete.

“Y/N, Olani hoath ol,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck.

You had heard him use that phrase before, and you figured it meant ‘I love you’, so you repeated it to him. He immediately lifted his head at your words and stared at you with wide eyes.

“What did you say?” he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“Olani hoath ol, Castiel,” you repeated, lifting your hips slightly and sinking down on him once more. “My angel.”

Castiel’s eyes turned glassy before he gave a sharp thrust upward, causing you to cry out in pleasure and surprise. He set up a slow but harsh rhythm, every thrust hitting deeper and deeper inside you. He clung to you the entire time with a vice-like grip, as if he just couldn’t get enough of touching you. You kept your arms around his neck as you moved with him, your hips coming down and meeting him as he thrusted upward. The two of you were moving in perfect synch together, filling the room with the sounds of your sighs and moans of pleasure.

Just as you could feel the coil inside your lower belly start to wind up tight, he pulled out and gently maneuvered you onto your hands and knees.

“I’ll take care of you,” his voice rang in your ear as he came up behind you, his chest resting against your back.

He slid into you easily, and your head fell forward in relief. He pumped in and out of you leisurely, not in a hurry or chasing a release, but enjoying and savoring every moment of being connected to you in the most intimate way. His lips scattered kisses along your shoulder and spine, his hand wrapping around you and squeezing your breast.

You cried out then, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts and drive him deeper inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Cas groaned as he continued to fuck into you, his free hand sliding down your stomach to rub circles against your clit.

And that was your undoing. Seconds later, you came so hard you could barely even elicit a sound, his name getting caught in your throat as you shook around him. Your pussy clenched hard around his cock, triggering his release as he cried your name out and spilled into you.

The two of you sat up silently, Cas carefully pulling out of you before bringing you to lay back on the bed against his chest. You silently listened to his heartbeat finally slow after a few minutes, the sound comforting as you drew nonsensical patterns on his chest.

“Cas,” you whispered, your voice breaking the comforting silence.

“Hm?”

“You scared me so bad tonight.”

You could feel Cas stiffen a bit before sighing deeply. “I know. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No no,” you sat up, looking down at him seriously. “I don’t say that as a guilt trip. I just…I need you to know how much you mean to me. You are everything, Castiel. Do you understand? You’re everything to me.”

Cas’ heart skipped a beat as he traced your jaw with his fingers, his eyes searching yours. “You are my world. My heaven. My home. You are my everything, Y/N.”

Home.

He was your home, and you were his.

And you never wanted to be anywhere else.

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

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#castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader

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suncityblues · 3 years

Text

Bad Luck and Sunshine

Part 1/5 - SPN - 3k words

read on AO3

He can fit all his worldly possessions on the passenger seat of his car.

Car keys, red bic lighter, a toothbrush in a ziplock bag. Cellphone, charger, brown faux leather wallet. A maxed out credit card with the name James Ledbetter on it, and a fake ID to match the card. Fourteen American dollars, one Canadian quarter, a Blimpie’s buy-one-get-one coupon.

A pen with the name of a bank on it, a tin of salt. A paperback with a four leaf clover carefully pressed into the pages between the title and the acknowledgments, and that’s it.

Castiel taps the book in the spot where the clover is pressed. He can feel the slight bump of it.

“They’re supposed to be good luck,” Dean had told him with a shrug when Cas asked why he was rooting around in the grass that day. Dean had handed Cas the book with the clover inside and said, “I used to search for them sometimes when I was a kid. It’s dumb but, hey, I figure we could use all the luck we can get.” Dean had smiled softly then, a bit sheepish. The tips of his ears had gone red.

Back then the world had been ending, so Cas supposed Dean was right, they could use luck.

He remembers trying to be encouraging, saying something about the placebo effect that made Dean roll his eyes and laugh at the same time. He can’t quite recall the specifics of it anymore.

A while later he had reached out to the clover with his grace and found nothing particularly special about it, but kept it and the book anyway. He reaches out again, now, with what little of his power he has left. It’s still just as lucky as any other dead plant.

He takes stock of his possessions again, focusing in particular on the fourteen American dollars and the one Canadian quarter. He checks how much gas he has left in his car and it’s not much. If he keeps going he’ll have to choose between food and gas, just to run out of it again anyway.

He needs to eat sometimes now, and drink water. He needs a shower and a bed if he can get them. Clothes, shoes, soap, toothpaste. All of it costs money, and to get money you have to trade time. Castiel has always found that a little ridiculous but it’s not like he makes the rules anymore.

He’s been pulled over in a dark parking lot in a truck stop town called Laurel for a while now thinking about what to do. Sam and Dean had set him up with the card and the fake ID before he left and Cas doesn’t want to ask them for any more help. He decides Laurel is as good a place as any other to get stuck in.

It’s 9:52 on a Tuesday.

A day and a half later Castiel is once again employed at a gas station. He’d tried a diner, a vegetable canning factory, a hardware store, and a rundown CVS but the gas station is the first place that got back to him. They were short staffed after someone named Ricky had walked out, and desperately needed a replacement. Kendra, the manager, had said “it’s like you were sent by an angel!” When she read through his mostly fictional work history. It had made Cas laugh.

This one is called Sunshine Gas and Go. They have to wear ugly yellow polo shirts that say “Let me know how I can help make your day sunny!” On the back. They keep the beer on the left side of the cooler bank instead of the right and the jerky next to the self-serve coffee but aside from that it’s remarkably similar to a Gas-N-Sip.

He wonders bleakly if he should have been the patron of gas stations while he had the ability.

The angel of Thursday, the angel of gas stations, that’s Cas. The guardian of the spaces you have to pass through on your way to better days, better places.

He sometimes wonders how Nora’s doing; if her kid’s okay.

It takes Sam and Dean five weeks to cave and check in on him. Cas has been in Laurel for the last three.

They pretend to be on their way back from a hunt, a totally routine salt and burn, and just so happen to be refueling at that particular gas station in this particular truck stop, exactly fifteen minutes after his coworker leaves Cas alone to cover the overnight shift. It’s an obvious and flimsy excuse to make sure he’s okay, but he’s known them long enough to understand that obviousness and flimsy excuses to see one another are gestures of affection in the Winchester family. He finds it somewhat exhausting to witness, and even more so to experience but he doesn’t call them out on it.

He does, however, make pointed eye contact with Sam who waves his hands in a placating gesture behind Dean’s back and excuses himself to go stare at the overpriced air fresheners on the other side of the store. He had hoped Sam, at least, would have had the sense to text first.

On the counter next to the cash register there’s a plastic bin with a picture of a bald child in a hospital bed taped to it and some loose change inside. Dean picks the can up, looks inside it, shakes it a bit, puts it down. It’s mostly empty.

“You’d think people’d be a little more generous, what with the cancer kid at stake and all,” he says. When Cas doesn’t immediately reply Dean continues, “Or is this one of those, uh, charity scams? You know, where the evil mega corporation asks you to pretty please donate so they can use it as a tax write off?”

Castiel shrugs, he doesn’t know what the Sunshine Gas and Go does with the money. Says: “I’m not sure, Dean.”

He pretends not to see Dean stick some gum from the display under the counter into his coat pocket. He’s watched Dean do this before to other casheers, leaning close to flirt and making off with what he can. Cas supposes old habits die hard. The gum is sugar free cinnamon.

Dean sees him pretending not to see. He smiles big and bright, his nose does a little crinkle that Cas always liked. The term “shit eating grin” comes to mind, Cas must have heard it somewhere, probably about Dean that time too. He rolls his eyes and says, “How was your hunt? Were you or Sam hurt at all?” He can’t do much besides heal minor cuts and bruises these days, but for the Winchesters he’d still offer what he can.

Dean waves him off, “Fine, fine, got shoved around a bit but it’s nothing a cold compress and a good night’s sleep can’t fix.”

“Speaking of,” Dean segues in a breezyl tone Castiel knows is dangerous territory, “Where are you sleeping these days? You gotta sleep now right?”

The ghost of Rexford sits heavy between them, though it’s been years since then. Cas realizes being back at a gas station might have caught Dean off guard, or felt like some kind of dig at him. He doesn’t know how to explain that it’s just bad luck, and he’s not sure Dean would believe him if he did.

This time around he’s not squatting in the back room with the cleaning chemicals but he is sleeping in his car, just until he has enough money for a place to stay or decides to hit the road again. He knows that’s not anything Dean wants to hear.

“Yes, Dean, I need to sleep” he answers, then pauses. He considers lying but it never works out when he does, and this isn’t life or death; just embarrassing.

Besides, Sam and Dean are observant and thorough even during a glorified social visit, so Cas figures they’d put two and two together as soon as they walked in the door. There’s no way they hadn’t clocked his too-big thrift store jeans under the uniform shirt, or the circles under his eyes. The way his beard is a little patchy from shaving in the bathroom mirror in the truck stop visitor center. It’s likely they’d found his car in it’s discreet parking space at the edge of the lot before coming into the Sunshine Gas and Go.

Cas tries tactful honesty: “I’m saving up.”

And it’s true, he is, though he’s not sure what he’s saving up for. But every Friday he gets a paycheck and brings it to the check cashing place in town. After the fee, and groceries, and little necessities he carefully stores what little he has left in the locked glove compartment of his car, under the book with the clover in it.

Dean’s lips press flat together. He stops leaning over the counter and stands at his full height. He makes an aborted head shaking gesture. He speaks like there’s an awful taste in his mouth.

“So,” he says, slightly too loudly to pay it off as cool. Out of the corner of his eye Castiel sees Sam’s head wip towards them, no longer pretending he’s not eavesdropping.

“So, ah—“ Dean repeats, “you’re gonna, what? Drift around? Lay low in some podunk shit hole for the rest of your life?“ he stops, puts his hands on the counter to steady himself, or to keep from reaching over and grabbing him, Cas isn’t sure. A beat.

“You know what?” Dean says, “Nevermind.”

Cas deflates. He knows Dean disagrees with him leaving so soon after becoming human again, and feels guilty about so many things it’s hard for Cas to keep track of them all, but he knows he couldn’t stay either. Just like lying to the Winchesters, it never works out in the end. With almost no power, he’s no help to anyone, not Sam and Dean, not heaven, not even himself. It hurts to think about but maybe that’s just part of being human.

“Dean—“ he starts to say but he’s cut off.

“Don’t worry about it, man” Dean says, he taps the counter twice with his knuckles, “nice place you got here. I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

Dean swallows and abruptly turns to leave, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Cas watches him go until Sam comes to the counter with two bottles of water, a coffee, and an energy bar.

He puts a twenty down, says apologetically, “For this stuff and whatever Dean stole on his way out.”

“Gum,” Cas supplies, and slides the twenty back towards Sam. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.

The cameras don’t work inside the store, and according to Joanna, the only reason they’re still up at all is to deter would-be armed robbers. Castiel watches less deserving people steal from them all the time, so it doesn’t seem worth it to take Sam’s money.

Sam shakes his head and gives him a flat smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes his things but leaves the twenty. Says, “See you around, Cas.” He pauses for a moment, and seems to debate something with himself. Then: “Check in sometimes if you can, okay? You know how Dean can be when he gets worried.”

Castiel knows. He waves to Sam as he walks off into the dark.

Cas checks the gum display, then manually rings up the items Sam bought. He puts the change into the plastic jar with the kid in the hospital bed on it.

A few days later a woman comes in with a ghost behind her. Cas checks the time to keep from gaping. 11:27 AM.

The ghost is a man, perhaps in his mid forties. Too young to be dead, but Cas supposes most people feel that way when they die, no matter how old. When the woman comes to the counter and gives him thirty dollars to put on pump six he sees a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. He puts two and two together.

“That’s a lovely necklace” he says, he looks directly at the ghost when he says it. They make eye contact. The ghost does a sharp inhale for a moment and the lights flicker. The ghost disappears.

Cas frowns, “Sorry about that. It happens all the time,” he lies. He wonders if he could purify the ghost with what powers he has left, that way she wouldn’t have to burn her wedding ring.

The woman seems caught off guard, then smiles politely.

“No worries, it happens all the time at my house too. Must be a faulty power grid in this town or something, my kids swear it’s a ghost or something,” she says.

There’s an apprehensive edge to her voice then, hastily: “have a good one.”

“You too,” Cas says. He thinks about following her out, trying to explain. He thinks about texting Sam and Dean.

The slushie machine makes a mechanical crunching sound and suddenly there’s red goop all over the ground.

Joanna starts yelling and runs for the mop. He goes to unplug the machine and gets sticky pink syrup all over his last clean pair of pants. The ghost slips his mind.

Two days later Dean shows up by himself. It’s 6:43 in the morning on a Tuesday.

Cas has been finished with work for fifteen minutes already but there’s a rush at the end of his shift so he says on to help Javier and Kendra out. It’s mostly people stopping for gas on their way to work, or truckers picking up breakfast before heading back on the road. He doesn’t mind sticking around in the mornings, everyone’s usually too tired to be angry and it’s a nice break from the drunks and the sad eyed kids he usually meets on overnights. The extra money doesn’t hurt, either.

Cas doesn’t notice Dean until he’s placing two coffees on the counter in front of them.

His first words are a surprised, “Oh, hello Dean. Where’s Sam?” Which makes Dean huff, and shift from one foot to the other.

“Not here,” he says, then points at the coffee closest to Cas, “That one’s for you. Milk, no sugar still, right?” Cas nods. He knows this is Dean Speak for an apology. He can feel Javier and Kendra look over at them from behind the other register and the cigarette display, respectively.

Dean smiles, all charm but Cas can tell his face looks a little more drawn than usual, like he’d been driving for too long without a break, “You get off work soon?”

Kendra answers for him, “Yes, he does.” She has a maternal look on her face when Cas turns to her. Javier rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“Shoo,” she says, with a smile. She points at the slogan on his uniform shirt, “Go have a sunny day, James.”

Dean nods, “Yeah, James. Have a sunny day.” There’s that smile again.

Cas closes out his register and gets his coat from the back room. Dean’s waiting for him outside, drinking his coffee and leaning against the Impala. The lighting is the soft grey-blue of the morning, and it feels nice compared to the white fluorescents of the store.

Before Cas can say anything Dean scrubs at the back of his neck, then says, “This coffee tastes like piss. Let’s get breakfast.”

There’re a few diners in town but Cas has never been to any of them. Dean picks one on a whim, because the sign has a 1950’s pinup girl in a skimpy waitress uniform.

It’s warm inside and smells nice, like syrup and strong coffee. Dean orders something called The Lumberjack Platter and when Cas tells the waitress, “Just coffee, thanks” Dean overrides it and orders him scrambled eggs with a side of sausage and toast.

“My treat,” Dean says. Cas shakes his head but doesn’t fight him on it.

Dean avoids talking about anything personal. Instead they mostly chat about the case Sam and Dean are currently working on. Apparently they’ve hit a wall with the research and Sam’s been holed up at the bunker for days pouring over blueprints and hacked security footage. There’s a cursed object in a locked bank vault in Little Rock that’s making people have violent outbursts. The questions are: why did it start acting up now, which lock box it’s in, and how to get to it.

Cas wishes he could still fly, then at least he’d be able to solve two of their problems. He runs the idea of trying to find a spell to make the object useless by Dean and Dean types it into his phone to send to Sam. A moment later it lights up with a call but Dean mutes it and sticks the phone back in his pocket.

Dean changes subjects and tells him about the latest Dr. Sexy storyline, about a vampire nest he took out a few years back, about running into Garth in Topeka. Cas talks about the gas station a bit but mostly just listens. He always likes listening to Dean talk.

When they leave the diner and get back into the Impala, Cas realizes this is the first time he’s enjoyed himself in a long while. He smiles over at Dean, expecting to be asked where he’d like to be dropped off. He’s thinking about the park by the river on the far side of town, it’s a long walk back to the truck stop but he likes to watch the trees shift in the wind and the fresh air there is a nice change from diesel fumes. Instead Dean says, “You still don’t got a place to stay right?”

Cas nods cautiously. He puts his hand on Dean’s upper arm and, not willing to let the day go south, says sternly, “I assure you Dean, while I’m not strictly an angel anymore I still don’t need nearly as much rest as you or Sam do…”

Dean nods at the steering wheel, his jaw moving. Cas can tell he’s also trying to not turn this into a fight.

Dean shifts towards him, Cas keeps his hand firmly on Dean’s arm. The energy in the car changes and suddenly Cas realizes where this is going. Dean puts one hand on his waist and the other comes to rest on Cas’ neck behind his ear. Cas breathes in sharply.

“Dean,” he says, then he broaches the subject he’d been painstakingly avoiding all morning: “Why did you come here today?”

Dean blushes and goes still for a moment, he swallows but doesn’t say anything. After a moment tugs him in gently and Cas takes pity on him. Dean tastes like maple syrup.

It’d been a while since they’d done this, but they fall back into it easily. After a few moments of kissing Dean pulls back. Their foreheads and noses are still touching and they’re breathing hard.

“What I was trying to say was, uh,” his ears get red at the tips, “that I got a room at that Budget Motel by the gas station.”

All Cas can think of to reply is, “Oh, I’d like to see it.”

It makes Dean laugh and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah wanna come up and see my art collection?” He says. Cas doesn’t know what he’s talking about but he likes that Dean keeps his hand on his thigh while they drive.

By the time Cas wakes up for his next shift Dean is gone. There’s a text on his phone that says Sam finally had his breakthrough based on something Cas had said. Then a second one that tells Cas the room is paid through till the end of the week. He can stay in it or not, doesn’t matter to Dean one way or the other. A third one that just says: Thanks.

Cas lays in bed for a moment enjoying the soft sheets and suddenly remembers the ghost.

++++++++++

Thanks for reading :)

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #Dean Winchester/Castiel #supernatural fanfic #my fic #dean winchester #castiel

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saltydean · 4 years

Text

Another ficlet! Was inspired to write more thanks to @definenormalifyoucan . Also on my AO3. Enjoy!

Title: Can’t Quit You

Description: Dean and Cas watch Brokeback Mountain because of course they do. The film brings out certain feelings in the pair, and they share an intimate moment.

“Alright Cas, this time I want you to pick the movie.” Dean said, raising his eyebrows and looking at Cas with a playful excitement on his face. “I think you’ve earned that much at least.”

It was early evening, and team free will 2.0 had taken a well deserved day off. Dean and Cas were lounging in the library, while Sam was paging through a novel he’d started a few days prior. Jack was nowhere to be seen; he’d spent all day watching TV in his room.

Cas was leaning back in his chair, looking at Dean with a familiar fondness. “Are you certain? I really don’t mind watching whatever you pick Dean.” Cas said. “I’ve always enjoyed your selection of movies.”

“No, no, this time you pick.” He affirmed. “You pick the flick and I’ll go on a beer run.” He got to his feet and patted his back pocket, confirming his wallet was present.

Sam didn’t look up. He was consumed by whatever it was he was reading, happy to be in his own world. It was because of this, or perhaps it was intentional, that he did not ask to be invited.

“Be back in a few” Dean said - walking past Cas, patting him on the shoulder and letting his hand trail across the angel’s back as he walked towards the stairs.

Nobody noticed the angel close his eyes and breathe in slowly, as he was caressed in this brief moment.

When Dean was gone, Cas stood and glanced over at Sam. “I’ll be in the Dean-Cave.”

Sam raised his eyes from the book that was clasped in his hands “Yeah, sure Cas. I’ll be here.” He flashed Cas a quick smile and returned his attention to the book.

Cas made his way to the Dean-Cave, and over to the laptop sitting next to the big flatscreen. He knew he wanted to put on a western, since they were Dean’s favourites. He browsed the downloaded movie titles, smiling to himself as he read ‘tombstone’. That was the last western they had watched together. He really got a kick out of witnessing Deans fanaticism of cowboys and gunslingers. He continued down the list. Silverado.. already watched. Magnificent 7..already watched. The next title was unfamiliar to him, but after reading the synopsis, he knew he’d found exactly the kind of thing he needed.

Not much longer after Cas had selected the movie and settled in, he heard the clink of beer bottles coming down the hall.

“Alright, got the beer, ordered the pizza..you pick a movie?” Dean said, his voice getting louder as he walked into the room. He placed the beer down on the coffee table and took off his jacket.

“Yes, I did”. Cas replied, taking off his trench coat and draping it over the back of his chair. “I’m continuing our western theme.”

Deans face lip up. “Atta boy Cas” Dean said with a grin. He popped the cap off his beer using the tables edge, took a long draft and abruptly stopped.

“Wait” He said seriously, with a hint of urgency in his voice, nearly spilling beer from his mouth.

Cas looked at him, visibly concerned. He tensed and moved to get up.

“What Dean? Are you-”

“Wait right here.” He interrupted, gesturing the angel to sit down. “You forgot something.” Dean stepped out of the room. Less than a minute later he returned, now donning a sleek Stetson and holding a cheap, more tacky cowboy hat in one hand.

He grinned sheepishly as he walked over to Cas and placed it on his head.

“Dean..” Cas said, exasperated. He adjusted the hat on his head.

“Thems the rules Cas, you know the drill.” He said and nodded to Cas with a goofy grin.

Knowing his queue, Cas stood and walked over to the laptop. He plugged in the HDMI like Sam had showed him, and with the barest of hesitations, clicked play.

Movie night was almost a ritual. The pair would drink beer, eat pizza, and get comfortable. It was a way to escape the hunter life for a few hours, and even if consciously unknown to them, it was an opportunity to bond and enjoy one another’s company. They always did this together, with a noticeable absence of Sam or Jack.

Cas retuned to his seat, and glanced over at Dean, waiting to see his reaction once he realized what movie he’d selected.

Dean, seeing the opening credits flushed slightly. “Y’know Cas when you said western this isn’t exactly what I thought you meant.” He said with a nervous chuckle.

Cas blanched. “I-I can change it..I didn’t-“

“No, no you picked it. And hey it is a western of sorts. Nothing wrong with .. you know” he awkwardly gestured to the TV with his beer in hand as the title Brokeback Mountain displayed on the screen.

Understanding that Dean was referring to the two cowboys, Cas nodded but didn’t turn his attention from Dean. He took in the lines of his face, the shape of his mouth, and his soul - oh the brightness and fullness of it. He noticed the hunter seemed nervous. Not uncomfortable exactly, more flustered. There was a redness in his cheeks, and Cas could feel an aura of longing emanating from him.

Dean shifted in his seat, thinking of whether or not Cas knew what the movie was about. Of all the choices, why this one? He stole a glance at the angel from the corner of his eye. Cas was watching him. His heart beat quickened and he felt the flush on his face deepen. What on earth was happening to him. It was only then that he noticed their two chairs were much closer together than last time they were here. Had Cas moved them? No, it must be his imagination.

Some time later, there was a knock on the door and it swung open. Sam stood in the door frame holding a flat box. “Pizza’s here guys.”

Dean and Cas looked up at Sam, both with embarrassed expressions on their faces, though Sam couldn’t figure out why. They appeared as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

“Ah y-yeah thanks Sammy” Dean stammered.

Sam put the pizza down on the coffee table and glanced over at the TV.

Oh..

Don't try to fool me no more Ennis! I know what that means! Jack Twist... Jack Nasty!! You didn't go up there to fish, you and him...

Realization on his face, Sam asked incredulously “Are you guys watching Brokeback Mountain?”

Dean gave a shrug and an awkward, rather sheepish scoff.

“It was my choice.” Cas said, not bothering to explain anything further.

“Right..” Sam chuckled with raised eyebrows. “Don’t have too much fun, you two”. Before Dean could retort Sam had left, closing the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

Dean cleared his throat, directing his attention back at the cowboys on screen. “Typical Sammy” he said shaking his head. “Ruining the best part”. They dug in to the pizza.

The rest of the movie left Dean feeling a mix of emotions. He was trying to bury the thought of him and Cas in the cowboy’s places. Why did that keep flashing through his mind? Ridiculous. He fought harder to ignore the throbbing in his pants; and the mix of embarrassment, disbelief, and thirst he had. Though he had plenty of beer left..

The voice of cowboy Jack rang from the TV, interrupting his thoughts.

I wish I knew how to quit you

Eventually, the end credits started rolling. Dean’s eyes were glossy and he blinked away whatever might have been forming in them. He’d forgotten what a sad ending this move had.

“Hah, well there you have it Cas” he said gruffly, hiding the emotion he felt. “Good ol’..Brokeback Mountain”. Cas noticed Dean had said this with more bravado than warranted.

Dean eyed the angel where he sat, from the top of his head down to his feet, and back up again. Without realizing, he was biting his lip. He swallowed hard.

This nuance didn’t go unnoticed, however, and Cas tilted his head at the hunter. He got up from his seat taking off his cowboy hat as he rose, and tossed it rather aggressively on the cushion behind him. He stalked over to where Dean sat, moving with purpose. Dean could see the outline of his arms through the dress shirt. He looked so different without the trench coat on. Though, he wasn’t complaining.

Cas leaned over him, hands on the chairs armrests. His face was inches from Dean’s; his gaze piercing as though seeing right through him.

Feeling the heat from Cas’s body and breath on this nose, he flushed yet again.

“Cas what are you doing?” Dean choked, turning his face away from Cas, eyes darting in several directions nervously, trying to look anywhere but the face before him.

Cas removed Dean’s hat with one hand, and put his thumb and forefinger on Deans chin, to bring his face back to him. “I think we should..go fishing” he breathed, not breaking eye contact.

The stare continued as the hunter’s face transformed from confusion to realization. Dean gave the barest of nods, and his lips parted in a shaky exhale.

Cas closed the small gap between them, lightly brushing his lips across Dean’s. They were surprisingly soft. His forehead pressed against the hunter’s as he breathed him in.

Dean’s knees were weak and his heart was racing. He couldn’t take the tension anymore and without thinking, grabbed the angels tie and pulled his lips onto his own. They connected with a fierce and desperate desire. Cas moved his hand onto Dean’s neck, crushing their lips together harder. With his free hand he grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt and effortlessly lifted him from his chair, to a standing position.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, moving in closer. He could feel his hips press against the angel. His hands gripped the back of Cas’s shirt in bunches, trying to hold on to this moment. To his angel.

They barely breathed. Both could feel the other’s pants shifting, becoming tighter.

“Cas..” Dean breathed.

“Dean, I..” he began, breaking their kiss apart.

“My room” Dean said hoarsely. “Now.”

A small smile traced on Cas’s lips. “I don't care if you're moving slow or fast, as long as it's in my direction”.

#destiel #deancas #ficlet #brokebacknatural #movie night in the bunker #domesticdestiel

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archangelgabriellives · 4 years

Text

Sabriel Advent Day 14: Angels

(A continuation from the last two days. Gabriel is still graceless and Sam is still his loving boyfriend)

“This sucks.”

Sam smiled at Gabriel’s muffled voice as he raised his eyes from his book. He expected Gabriel to keep going, to whine a bit and then roll over and try to convince Sam to have a little fun with him, but Gabriel was unmoving, face pressed deep into his pillow. The life, the joy, that Gabriel always bubbled over with seemed to be slowly leaving the archangel, and the longer that he went without having his grace restored, the more Gabriel deflated.

His smile morphed into a sad frown, and Sam placed his book on his bedside table. “I know it seems bad, Gabriel,” Sam said, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on Gabriel’s arm, “but I know we can figure it out soon. Cas has been helping when he can. I'm sure he'll think of something."

Gabriel whipped his head up from the pillow, and Sam startled at the look of pure fury he saw in his lover’s eyes.

“Oh, will he?” Gabriel spat, anger taking over as he climbed off the bed. “We’ve already tried that. Many, many times, in fact. And in case you haven't noticed, Sam, I’m still a useless mess.”

“Gabriel…”

“No, Sam,” Gabriel cut him off, a hand running through his hair in frustration, “I know what I am right now. So don't try to butter me up with your sweet nothings.” He stormed towards the bedroom door. “I won't let Cas waste one more ounce of his grace on me.”

Gabriel ripped the door open, almost running into Castiel on the other side, his fist raised to knock on Sam’s door.

“Gabriel,” the angel spoke, already recovered from his jolt of surprise, “I think I have found a way for you to recover your grace.”

His eyebrows set in a deep frown, and with a resentful and bitter, “No,” Gabriel pushed past his brother, headed for anywhere else in the bunker. He could hear Sam calling his name, but Gabriel ignored him. He turned into the kitchen, gasping as he nearly ran into Castiel.

“Leave me alone,” Gabriel muttered, heading for the fridge. He opened it, ignoring his brother for idly pushing tubs of leftover food around.

“Please. Brother,” Cas pleaded. “Hear me out.”

“No.” Gabriel slammed the fridge. “Don't give me any more of yourself.”

“Of course I won't.”

“G-Good,” Gabriel stuttered, a little taken aback at Castiel’s answer. He thought for sure his brother would fight a little harder to keep trying to heal him. “I don't want it.”

Castiel continued on. “I have been talking with the angels in Heaven, and we feel that a trip home would set your grace right.”

“You wanna send me to Naomi to heal my grace?!” Gabriel snarled. “You do know she’s the one that has a tendency to take our memories and, oh, you know, brainwashed you?!”

“Yes, I am aware of the somewhat shameful acts that Heaven has done.” At least Castiel had the good sense to look sheepish about his suggestion.

“Shameful isn't the word I’d use, brother.”

“But I’m not referring to Naomi.”

Gabriel continued to glare at Castiel, even as Sam came barreling into the kitchen.

“Gabriel,” he breathed, cautiously breaking the weighted silence between the angels, “can Cas help you?”

The veins in Gabriel’s neck pulsed as he clenched his jaw. “I don't want their help.”

Castiel sighed. “All I want is to help you. All Heaven wants is for you to be whole again”

Sam watched the dread and rage wash over his lover. He slipped a hand over Gabriel’s shoulder, the muscles quivering in anger. “Gabe,” he whispered, “I could go with you.”

“What!?” Gabriel turned in shock. “Absolutely not, Sam.”

Sam’s features softened, the hunter pulling out his most devastating puppy eyes, the ones he knew Gabriel couldn't resist.

Gabriel swallowed, his resolve crumbling ever so slightly before he pulled himself back together.

“No. No way am I letting you anywhere near those feathered dicks. One whiff of your soul and they’ll be chomping at the bit to get you in their clutches.”

“But… if it’ll help…?”

A fresh wave of ire rolled through him, and Gabriel was shouting again. “What good does it do for me if it hurts you in the process?! No! I’m not going. Cas isn't going.” He pointed a finger in Sam’s chest. “You're not going! I’d rather stay this way for the rest of my miserable life and die than go back to those assholes!”

Gabriel fled from the kitchen, angry footsteps echoing through the bunker until Sam and Castiel heard the heavy slam of the bunker’s front entrance.

There was a silence between them, broken after a few moments by Sam’s heavy sigh. He turned sad eyes to Castiel. “Miserable?”

“He’s just angry,” Castiel comforted his friend. “He has always been very passionate. Would you like me to go after him?”

“No, Cas. Let’s give him a minute and then I’ll go talk to him.”

With a knowing nod and a soft smile, Castiel left, his small pile of books about angel grace waiting for him in the library. Sam was a few steps behind him. He took his time getting his boots and jacket on, then slowly made his way up the staircase to the main entrance.

He stepped through the heavy door into the cold Kansas winter, and followed the well worn paths looking for his pissed off boyfriend.

Doing this thing (even tho its over)

@holydean @6-wings

(this’ll keep going for the next chapter)

#sabrieladvent2019 #sabriel #gabriel x sam winchester #angry gabriel #castiel trying to be helpful #this is just a filler chapter for this story #like nothing happens #just some feelings

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darks-ink · 5 years

Text

Unseen

Prompt: After getting his by his parent’s newest invention, Danny discovers he is trapped in Phantom form and can’t change back. Prompt by: @kinglazrus Word count: 4,165

[AO3][FFnet][more Phic Phight fics]

A bright flash blinded Danny, and he braced himself for a painful impact. Surprisingly, it didn’t come. He peeked between the fingers of his white gloves, right at the weapon still pointed at him.

“Uh. I don’t think it worked,” he muttered, as his parents’ faces paled further.

His dad lowered the weapon, flipping open a panel to check. “It definitely fired, though. Mads, check him over just to be sure.”

“But I’m fine!” Danny exclaimed as he lowered himself closer to the floor anyway and submitted to his mom’s worried examination. “It didn’t even hurt or anything!”

“It wasn’t designed to hurt, sweetie.” His mom carefully inspected him, rubbing over his chest – the impact site, apparently – and even asking him to unzip his jumpsuit. Underneath it, his skin wasn’t even bruised. Nothing showed that he had been hit.

“See,” he waved a hand demonstratively, “Totally fine. No need to worry or fret, okay?”

“But that doesn’t make sense!” His dad waved the invention around, and Maddie pulled it from his hands before he damaged it. “It should’ve worked!”

Seeing the glare his wife was shooting him, he added, “Not that I wanted to hurt you, Danny-boy, but–”

“It’s fine.” Danny shot him an understanding grin, one which doubled as a soothing one for his mom. “Accidents happen. I shouldn’t have dropped in so unexpectedly – I should’ve known that I would startle you two.”

“And we should know better than to shoot first and look later.” His mom looked off-put, but she sighed and relaxed a little. “We got lucky this time, but it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why were you coming down anyway, kiddo?” His dad had perked up a little now that it was clear no one had gotten hurt. “Important ghost business?”

“Uh, no.” Danny’s grin turned sheepish as he started to rub the back of his neck. “Jazz wanted to know what we were doing for dinner.”

“Couldn’t you just have used the stairs?” His mom looked at him, her expression somewhere between intrigued and perplexed. “Why were you in your ghost form anyway?”

“Jazz said that it was good for people – for you – to see me hanging out as Phantom.” He scuffed his boot on the floor, for once not floating in his ghost form. “Something about connecting the ways you saw me or something?”

She accepted this answer with a nod. If Jazz said it, it was likely right – and she was pretty sure it was, anyway. She hadn’t seen Danny in his ghost form a lot – it was still hard to think of him as Danny instead of Phantom. “And the phasing through the ceiling instead of using the stairs?”

“I, uh, didn’t really think about it.” Danny dropped the hand from his neck and shrugged. “I use my powers all the time, even in human form. Phasing through the door instead of opening it, floating down the stairs so they don’t creak, lighting a ball of ectoplasm instead of turning on the lights…”

“Fascinating,” his dad mumbled, and Danny abruptly remembered that the man was there, too. “Your powers are so easily accessible even in your human form that you use them so casually?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He floated over closer to his dad, so that he was more easily included in the conversation. “My core never leaves, human or ghost. And when I first became half-ghost, I kept accidentally using my powers in human form, not in ghost form. I guess it just comes naturally.”

His mom shook her head. “I still can’t believe that we missed it for all these years.”

Danny opened his mouth to answer with one of his usual replies – assurance that it wasn’t their fault, that he had hidden it, etc – but she held up her hand and quietened him before he started. “It’s alright Danny. It was a stray thought, nothing serious.” Then she smiled at him. “We’ll do pizza for dinner, okay sweetie? Go and tell your sister – and use the stairs this time, please.”

“Alright alright.” He planted his feet back on the floor and triggered his transformation back to human form.

No flash of light came.

He frowned, tried again. Still nothing.

“Are you okay?” his dad asked, leaning closer. “You’re just… standing there.”

Danny looked at his clenched fists – still covered by the white gloves of his jumpsuit. “I can’t shift back.” He poked the ball of warmth in his chest – it was still there, just… idle. Like his core whenever he got hit with the Plasmius Maximus. He didn’t even know it was possible to lock his human form away like this. “I can still feel my human side, but I can’t switch to it.”

“That… makes sense.” His mom wandered closer, still holding the invention. “This was supposed to stop a ghost from using their powers – temporarily, of course. But it only worked on your ability to transform, rather than your ghostly ones.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long was it supposed to last?”

“Not sure,” his dad admitted with a shrug. “Anywhere between a day and a week, depending on a number of factors. Strength of the ghost, how close to the core we hit, all of that stuff.”

“So it won’t be over before school tomorrow?” Danny groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Of course. And you won’t let me stay home, will you?”

His mom shook her head. “No sweetie, you already miss enough classes as-is. We can’t let you stay home over something like this.”

“I figured,” he mumbled, lifting off of the floor. Might as well fly over to Jazz to tell her they were having pizza, since that was what started this whole thing.

“And use the stairs, young man!” his mom yelled, moments before he passed through the ceiling.

With another sigh he re-angled himself, flying through the stairway instead.

Danny eyed the closed locker in front of him speculatively. Then, figuring that he had noting to lose, turned his arm intangible and stuck it right through.

He was still digging for his books when Sam and Tucker joined him, leaning on the lockers to either side of him.

“Didya forget something, dude?” Tucker asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I know you’re not hiding anymore, but this is going a little far, even for you.”

Danny sighed, pulling the last books out of the locker. “My parents accidentally hit me with one of their new inventions yesterday. I’m locked out of my human form for anywhere between a day and a week, or so my dad says.”

Sam sucked in air through her teeth. “And they wouldn’t let you stay home, huh? That sucks.”

“Mom said I miss enough class with my ghost hunting anyway.” He flung the backpack over his shoulder again. “Which is fair, but still. I’m not really excited about the prospect of going to class as Danny Phantom.”

“What are the chances that the teachers will give you detention for being a distraction?” Tucker shot him a shit-eating grin, leading the group towards Lancer’s classroom. The bell would ring soon, anyway.

Danny grumbled wordlessly. Then, almost impossible to hear, he added, “At least mom wrote a note explaining it.”

“So that’ll be about 50% of the teachers, got it.” Tucker swung his PDA around. “I’ll keep track for you so you can sue them for discrimination.”

“On what basis?” Danny frowned at his friend, ignoring the wide-eyed glances he was starting to receive as more and more people filled the hallways. “Being a ghost? I don’t think that that counts.”

“I’m sure that I can think of something,” Sam assured with a smile so evil Danny almost shivered.

Thankfully he was saved from having to answer by both the bell and the fact that they reached Mr. Lancer’s classroom. They entered immediately, Sam and Tucker moving to their seats. Danny stopped by the teacher’s desk, instead.

“Mister… Fenton,” Lancer said, tone tired and clearly barely repressing a groan. “What can I help you with?”

Danny pulled the note out of his pocket and offered it to the teacher. “I, uh. Accident in my parents’ lab, so I can’t shift back. Mom wrote a note explaining it.”

The teacher read over it once, then again. Then with a sigh he handed it back. “Very well. Take a seat and try not to distract the class.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny said, grinning. He wandered over to his usual desk and plopped into the seat. More quietly, to Sam and Tucker, he added, “Not that it’ll make much of a difference.”

“No kidding,” Sam muttered, eyes narrowing into a glare as Paulina entered the classroom. The girl was followed by a horde of other girls, of course, but none of those mattered in comparison. It was Paulina who had had a shrine dedicated to Phantom in her locker – even though she had thankfully taken it down after the reveal.

The girl visibly perked up when she spotted Danny. He, in turn, sunk down lower into his seat – and barely repressed his automatic reaction to phase through it to sink deeper.

“Ghost boy!” she chirped, moving towards him instead of her seat. She might’ve taken down the shrine, but she still harbored strong feelings for Danny. Luckily, like most people she seemed to struggle with connecting his ghostly persona with his human form, even knowing that they were one and the same.

Unfortunately, that meant that he had to deal with the full force of her adoration – at least until he could shift back to human again.

“Paulina,” he greeted with a shaky grin. He tried to peer around her and make eye contact with Lancer – hoping that the man would shoo her off and into her seat. Unfortunately, Mr. Lancer seemed to be too occupied with his papers to notice. “Shouldn’t you, uh, get to your seat? Before the class starts?”

She ignored the suggestion and leaned on his desk instead, somehow blinking flirtatiously at him. “What are you doing here, mi amor?”

Danny blinked at her disbelievingly. “I… am part of this class? I’m here every day, unless there’s a ghost?”

Thankfully Lancer had finally noticed his plight, and came over. “Miss Sanchez, if you could stop distracting your fellow students and sit down, that would be wonderful.”

She shot Mr. Lancer a glare, then cast a longing look over at Danny, and then finally sat down. Danny couldn’t wait for this stupid invention to wear off. He was already so done with this stupid thing.

And here he had been, thinking that he had been getting a lot of attention ever since revealing his identity. Apparently it was still better in his human form, despite everyone knowing he was Phantom. Imagine that.

The rest of the classes went… Well, they weren’t normal, by any means, but it went alright, at least. A lot of the others still looked at Danny, but he could ignore their stares well enough. The only real problem had been when they had tried to watch a video during Chemistry – Danny’s eyes started glowing even brighter once the lights went off, which was apparently quite distracting to everyone else.

And there was, of course, lunch. When he had walked into the cafeteria, the entire room had shushed – but then his ghost sense went off and he spend the entire break catching Technus.

And now he sat in the locker room, Tucker by his side, staring at his gym clothes thoughtfully.

“Dude, just put them on.” Tucker was lacing up his own shoes. Everyone else had already left – Danny had waited until the locker room was mostly empty on purpose. “You know what Tetslaff is like. She’ll make you wear them anyway – might as well avoid the fight.”

Danny snorted. “Yes, because I make a habit out of avoiding fights.” Still, he complied and started peeling off his gloves.

“Don’t I know it,” Tucker grumbled in response. He straightened his beret – why did they let him wear that thing, anyway? – and pointed towards the doors into the gym. “I’ll tell Tetslaff that you’re on your way. And, uh, that you’re stuck in ghost form and all that.”

“Thanks Tuck.” Danny looked away from the pile of ghostly hazmat he was acquiring to shoot his friend a grateful look. “Try not to get killed.”

“If I do I’ll just come back as a ghost!” he shouted back as he left the locker room.

Still smiling, Danny carefully freed himself from his suit. It wasn’t exactly designed to be easy to put on or remove, and while that normally wasn’t a problem for Danny… Well, he was finding a lot of problems he didn’t normally run into, anyway.

Like how he had spent the entire day struggling to stay grounded. And forcing his legs to stay legs, instead of dissolving into a ghostly tail.

Having finally changed into his gym outfit, Danny tried to sneak into the classroom unnoticed. Unfortunately, his gym clothes did little to dampen his natural glow – and once someone caught sight of his scars, their shout alerted the rest of the class as well.

“Mr. Fenton,” Tetslaff snapped, gesturing for him to come closer. “How nice of you to finally join us…” she trailed off into silence, apparently having seen his scars as well.

Dash, unlike most of the class who had gone quiet, decided to go loud, instead. “Hey Fenton, what the hell are those?”

“They’re scars, Dash.” Danny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, hoping not to come across as defensive as he was feeling. “You know what scars are, right?”

The boy spluttered, clearly grasping for a reply that was at least as insulting as Danny’s. Kwan spoke up instead. “But where did they come from? And why are they… green?”

Danny waved a hand over himself, demonstratively. “Um, they’re green because I’m a ghost. Ectoplasmic flesh is green, and so is ectoplasmic blood. Therefore, scars are green instead of red.” Then he paused, considering his words for a moment. “And as you might tell from the fact that they’re faded, they’re not new. They’re from the accident that turned me half-ghost.”

“Then why haven’t we seen them before?” Mikey asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice. Now that the question was asked, more voices started repeating it, demanding an answer.

“I’ve always had them.” Danny frowned, shooting a quick glance at Tetslaff in the hopes that she would call the class into silence. But, unfortunately, she seemed content to listen to his explanation as well. “But only as Phantom. You can’t usually see them, though, because I always wear my jumpsuit in ghost form, and that covers up most of my body.”

“Well!” A large hand landed on his shoulder, and Danny stiffened – and almost reflexively charged an ectoblast. “Now that this fantastic Q&A session is over, why don’t we get back to gym class, huh?”

Tetslaff pushed him back towards the class, and Danny quickly sidled up next to Tucker and Sam. “Today we’re running a standard training course. We’re starting with timed laps around the room, and some hurdle jumping after. Any questions so far?”

She completely ignored the raised hands, instead storming on in her explanation. “No? Good. First ones up are you guys.” She pointed at a few students – including Dash and Danny. “Get your asses to the starting lines already!”

Danny grumbled under his breath, but trudged over to the line anyway. At least he didn’t have to pretend be less athletic than he really was, now. Even if he wasn’t all that great at running, anyway. Stamina? Sure. But actual running speed?

Well, he never tested that, but still. He flew everywhere. Danny was pretty sure that he walked less now that he was half-ghost, not more.

Tetslaff whistled for them to start, and he burst off. His sneakers felt weird on his feet – wearing regular clothes always felt weird in ghost form – but they didn’t hinder his movement. The rhythmic pounding of his shoes on the floor of the gym felt good – sounded good.

Then he surpassed Dash and felt a smirk crawling up. Actually, you know what? This felt even better.

Danny crossed the finish line as the first of his group – and by wide margin, too. The teacher eyed him appreciatively, noting down his time on her clipboard. “Would you look at that, you really have been holding back on us, Fenton.”

Dash finally crossed the line, and scoffed in-between breaths. “Yeah, duh. Have you seen Phantom fight?”

“He says, like it came with being half-ghost,” Danny muttered, intending for only Sam and Tucker to hear it. Unfortunately he forgot how many of his classmates paid attention to him nowadays, and most of them seemed to have overheard it.

“Didn’t it?” Valerie asked, apparently genuinely curious. Her eyes scanned him, up and down, clearly locking on his lean muscles. “You actually worked out, Danny?”

His aura flickered brighter in annoyance. “Sam made me,” he finally admitted. The green that crept over his cheeks definitely wasn’t out of embarrassment, no sir!

A loud clap from Tetslaff interrupted the conversation before it could continue, however. “Alright, break it up! Next runners are up.”

She led the next students to the starting line, and Danny took this chance to move to a quieter corner. Most of his classmates took the signal for what it was and left him alone – even when Sam and later Tucker were called away to do their runs.

Unfortunately the peace couldn’t last, as Tetslaff called him forward again when everyone had had their run. Now, it was time to run with obstacles.

Now this, Danny knew, he could do. He actually jumped a lot, both in human and ghost forms. It was simply convenient for quick shifts – jumping off of somewhere tall or just straight-up jumping up meant that he could fly off right after shifting.

And, having already finished his regular run, he knew he could do that pretty well, too. So, really, there was no reason for him to do badly at a combination. Right?

The starting signal went off, and once again, Danny shot away from the line. He maintained a steady run, kept his eye on the first hurdle coming up. There were two more right after, and he was mentally calculating if he could clear them in one go or not–

First hurdle, strong push with his leg, and off the ground he went. Second and third hurdle flew by as well, and Danny quickly made his way to the finish line.

Miss Tetslaff eyed his critically, then heaved a weary sigh.

“Mr. Fenton,” she said. “You are aware of the fact that you were supposed to run this course?”

“Um.” Hadn’t he? He turned around to look at the course, very sure that he had, at least, started with his feet on the ground. In doing so, however, he noticed that he was definitely floating now. “I… Oh. How, uh. How long have I been flying?”

“You didn’t notice?” Dash exclaimed, this time having witnessed the whole thing since he wasn’t in the same group. “Are you serious, Fenton?”

He flushed green again and opened his mouth to reply, but Sam cut in before he could. “Flying comes naturally to ghosts, Dash. Plus, have you ever seen Phantom not float?”

Tetslaff shook her head but noted down the time anyway. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she decided, with a quiet grumble to her voice. “We have no one to compare his data to anyway, and we can’t have him compete either.”

Which they had, apparently, seriously considered. Even though 1) that would’ve been cheating, since Danny wasn’t human, and 2) Danny didn’t have the time for it. Seriously, he couldn’t even keep up with school! How would on Earth would he make time for sports? Also why? He genuinely had better things to do.

Sam and Tucker ribbed at him, of course, for accidentally flying his lap instead of running it, but thankfully no one else gave him trouble. And so the rest of gym class passed by without further problems, too.

Danny laid on his desk, head resting on his folded arms. Sure, he should be paying attention to Mr. Lancer. But the teacher was just so boring, and he was so tired. He hadn’t slept well last night – several ghost attacks had interrupted him as always. And sleeping in his jumpsuit proved to be more difficult than he had expected, too.

So now here he was, almost asleep during English class. Blinking very slowly – but making sure to open his eyes again every time. He didn’t want to fall asleep, but… it was very tempting.

Lancer was keeping an eye on him, though. Despite the man knowing about the cause of his troubles – or perhaps because of it – he continued to push Danny. It was probably well-intentioned, but sometimes Danny just wished the man would stop.

Not that he said that out loud, though. Everyone in Amity knew not to make wishes – and even if he worded it differently, Danny didn’t want to hurt Lancer’s feelings. Especially if the man was just trying to be nice, or do the right thing.

“Mr. Fenton,” the teacher called, and Danny almost didn’t squash the groan he wanted to give.

Instead he mumbled a wordless reply. Pushed himself up a little further, the glow of his eyes making them look sharper than he really was. “Myeah?”

“Could you tell us the answer to the question, please?”

His eyes moved from the teacher to the board he was standing next to. It was, surprisingly, a question he knew the answer to. For once, he had read the book – and remembered enough about it, too.

So, naturally, he gave the answer the teacher was looking for.

“Excuse me?” Lancer asked, looking confused and somewhat thrown off.

Danny repeated his answer, frowning. He was sure that he was right, so why was Lancer acting so weird?

Sam nudged him, and he looked over at her with a brow quirked. “You’re speaking in ghost, Danny,” she explained.

“Oh,” he said. “Uh, sorry.” He turned back to Mr. Lancer and repeated, once again, the answer – this time making sure he stuck to English.

The teacher shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, that is correct. Thank you Mr. Fenton, and please try to stick to English next time.”

He ducked his head, cold crawling up to his cheeks – blushing green once again. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Seeing that the teacher was distracted, Valerie leaned over to his desk. “Does that happen often?”

“Slipping into ghost?” he asked, sinking down on his arms again. “Usually only when I’m in ghost form, and even then only when I’m tired or distracted.”

She nodded, scribbling something down in her notebook. Seeing the motion, he cocked his head at the book. “Keeping notes, Val?”

“Yeah,” she carelessly admitted, looking back at him. “Someone has to. Besides, Dani keeps dropping by and knowing more about you translates into knowing more about her.”

Valerie toyed with the pen in her hands. “Can… humans learn that? Ghost, I mean? Or is it a language of the dead only?”

“Ask Sam or Tuck.” Danny shrugged, not that it was very visible since he was still lying down. “It comes naturally to me – sounds just like English, too.”

Another nod. A soft scratching as she noted down this, too. At the front, Lancer had fallen silent.

Danny risked a look over and saw that they were supposed to be reading, now. He opened his book, eyes aimed at it but not actually reading. He wouldn’t remember any of it, anyway. Not with how sleepy he was.

Besides, he was warm and surprisingly comfy. Surrounded by his three best friends, who would surely keep his safe – even if he was in danger, which he wasn’t.

“Are you purring,” Valerie hissed, incredulous.

“No,” he protested, not even bothering to prop himself up or to stop the rumbling coming from him. “I’m not a cat, I don’t purr.”

She looked at him, skeptically. Sam now also leaned in closer – glancing at Lancer to make sure he didn’t notice – and added, “His core hums when he’s content. You just usually can’t tell because the flesh of his human form mutes it.”

“In other words–” Tucker shot Valerie a grin as he, too, joined the conversation. “–it’s absolutely purring.”

Danny groaned, but didn’t say anything. He stood no chance against the combined forces of his friends.

And so, content and surrounded by the soft voices of his friends, Danny Fenton-Phantom fell asleep.

Still purring, of course.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny phantom #dark writes #danny fenton #i just posted this but apparently it posted on the wrong blog so i'm reposting it #but that's dumb and frustrating so ugh

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a-jynx · 6 years

Text

Started With A Tease - Part 1: Sioux Falls High

Summary: Two boys in two completely different worlds, yet somehow… They are able to collide. Their green and blue eyes meeting for the first time, but they’re able to tell they’ve met before, only not like this. Not like it was only the two of them in the whole galaxy - but that’s where it started.. It started with a tease.

Warnings: Cursing, Highschool, mentions of smoking and drinking, mentions of drugs, heavy make-out sessions, mentions of sex, fighting, blood, mentions of child abuse, runaways, two different worlds collide into one. Destiel!!!

Pairing(s): Dean x Cas, Sam x Reader

Tags: @waywardnewcomer @iliketowrite02 @laceyn-1201 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @casiskween @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @sandlee44 @dillpicklesunflowerseed @redmoon261 @closetspngirl @samammybee13 @ughs-posts @1967mph

Enjoy! Feedback is the glue to my writing!

Highschool. Some kids fell in love with it, whilst others dreaded it or even wished to damn the building to hell. Sadly, that was unlikely to happen since this is the real world - not some fantastic, fake reality that made everything seem almost - perfect.

Well, almost…

“Sam! Samuel!” I called after my boyfriend, mentally cursing his long legs as he came to a halt, his eyes lighting up as they met my figure jogging towards him.

“Morning babe, I’m guessing either you slept in over alarm clock, or you forgot to set it.” Sam grinned as I frowned rolling my eyes as he placed a wet kiss on my cheek, making me grin instantly.

“First, good morning. Second, I hate you and everything you stand for, Winchester.” I growled as he scoffed, wrapping one of his Nile River long arms around my waist as we started to walk again; my mind suddenly caught up with me as I looked around, noticing Dean wasn’t with us.

“Where’s the grump? I thought he said he would drive us today?”

Sam looked down before sighing and frowning as I rolled my eyes already realizing what was happening. “He seriously ditched us again? For who this time - was it that girl from my Instagram? Monica!?” I began to list off different girls from school that I followed as Sam stopped walking, this causing me to stop as I began to count on my fingers how many girls I was actually naming.

“Babe - he has practice.” Sam chuckled as I stopped ranting, looking up at him as I frowned before feeling my face begin to heat up dramatically.

“Well.. Thanks for telling me after I basically called him a jerk.” I rolled my eyes as he laughed, wrapping his arm around me as we began to walk again.

And that’s how most of our days started.. Sam and I walking to school or waking up early enough to where Dean would be practically forced to take us, but secretly I think he liked dropping us off. He just would never say it out loud.

Of course, this went on from Freshman year to now, our Senior year in high school... It’s so surreal to think about how we started as small kids hoping that we’ll just survive the hallways with the herds of trampling big kids, to now being the herds of trampling big kids.. It was, again, bizarre.

The fall had already taken over Sioux Falls, South Dakota, with bone-chilling winds that just blew past you and almost left you hallow. Thus, allowing the Sioux Fall Falcons to get a jump start in their football season - which is a relief.

Our small town went practically insane at the thought of teenage boys tackling other teenage boys for pigskin on artificial grass - and if you couldn’t tell, I don’t really care about football, but I go for Dean.

Sam and Dean had moved to Sioux Falls at the beginning of our Freshman year, and we instantly connected, or at least Sam and I did, then here comes Dean to be one of my best friends.

Ever since then we’ve been together - the dangerous trio. Sam, Dean, and I protected each other as if the world was ending. If someone even looked at one of us wrong, the other two would tear them a new one.. That’s how I met Castiel or Cas.

“So, are we still on for date night tonight, or no?” I asked as Sam grinned, and nodded as we crossed the soccer field before turning towards the football field, seeing the boys with their tight white spandex on with their baggy practice uniforms with their helmets slamming against the fake players.

“Yeah, we’re still on. Unless you want to go to the game tonight, then go tomorrow night?” Sam shrugged as I turned my attention up towards him and shrugged gently as he squeezed my shoulders into his side as we walked until reaching the front of the school - that’s when I saw it.

A boy with dark hair trying to grab his bag from two large Seniors as they played keep away with it. I clenched my jaw as I felt a sudden tug towards him; unraveling my arm from around Sam’s waist, I moved down the sidewalk as Sam called after me.

“Hey! Pinheads!” I called at the trio as they all turned towards their attention towards me, as they paused their actions as the bag hung between them. They turned their heads towards each other before throwing them back and laughing as I snarled, pinching my lips together as I marched towards them, Sam right behind me.

“What’d you want, Shrimp?” One growled as I arched a brow, not recognizing his voice as I crossed my arms over my chest before huffing a breath.

“I want to know what the hell you think you’re doing to this guy - you’re Seniors, act like it!” I snapped as they jumped slightly, only to clench their fists as I narrowed my eyes, daring them.

“You’re not our boss, Shrimp.” The other spat as Sam moved forward, dropping his arm around my shoulders as I growled, feeling my face grow hot, and steam practically pumping out of my ears.

“Call me a shrimp one more time! I dare you!” I spat as Sam tightened his grip on me, warning me of my temper as I huffed before reaching out and yanking the messenger bag from the two morons’ grips, causing them to release it by the sudden yank.

“Dumbasses.” I spat before walking towards the guy and grabbing his shoulder, leading him away as Sam took the backside, making sure the two pinheads didn’t follow us back towards the school.

Once, we reached a safe spot I sighed and looked over the bag as I grinned, turning my head towards the guy as I was met with bright blue eyes as dark hair swept over his eyebrows, covering one of them easily as I smirked, handing the bag towards him.

“Here. Next time, just kick them in the dick-”

“Or, just keep walking.. Especially if you don’t want to get suspended..” Sam sighed with a warning tone in his voice as I gently rolled my eyes and turned them back towards the guy, who looked sheepish...

“Names Y/N, and this is my boyfriend, Samuel-”

“It’s just Sam.. You’re that new exchange student, aren’t you?” Sam grinned at him as he nodded once, causing me to smile wider.

“Awesome! Where are you from?” I asked as I moved to lean against the small brick wall that stood beside Sam. The guy cleared his throat as I arched a brow towards him, as he sighed, that’s when he spoke - a deep, thick voice left him as I grinned before side-glancing towards Sam, who looked confused.. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

“I’m from a small town called, Heaven.” He shrugged before digging through his bag, pulling out his phone, probably to glance at the time as I nodded.

“Sounds like a nice little place - what’s your name?” I nodded towards him as Sam leaned against the wall next to me, his arm resting on top of it as the blue-eyed boy cleared his throat again.

“Castiel, but I like to be called Cas.” He grinned before it fell, I smiled as I moved towards him, patting his shoulder as the bell screamed from the large building as many other students began to file inside.

“Well, Castiel, or Cas.. Welcome to Sioux Falls High, a place where all your dreams go to die.” I squeezed his shoulder before moving away with a wink, walking towards the building as I glanced back waiting for Sam, who stood next to Cas; who looked absolutely petrified.

“Hey, don’t worry about what she said - she’s.. Special like that. But, welcome and if you need anything just look for me and Y/N.” Sam nodded as he walked away, his hand lacing with mine as he frowned down at me.

“What?”

“You are the worst.” He sighed as I chuckled, winking at him as we climbed the stairs and entered the cool, yet overly crowded hallway. “Eh, payback for earlier, Sammy.” I grinned as we squeezed each others’ hands, silently telling each other that we’d talk later as we separated and wandered to our first hour.

I thought back to Cas, my mind already wondering just how strange this new year could get. I mean, a dark-haired boy named after an angel comes in from a small town called, Heaven? Heh, next someone will be telling me that one of my best friends are secretly into the same sex or something like that…

But, this is Senior year…. Anything and everything could happen.

Part 2: Coming Soon

#Destiel #Dean x Cas #highschool AU #Football player Dean x Outcast/newbie Cas #Sam x reader #SPN #SPN FANDOM #SPN Family #spn fanfic #spn series #tags are open #sorry if poorly written; I did most of this under stress :/

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winchestergirl-13 · 6 years

Text

Remind Me Again

Prompt: “Explain to me again why we need to pretend to be married?”

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word Count: 4,081

Warning: a lot of fluff and a few swear words (mostly Dean). A little self doubt but a lot of fluff.

A/N: This is for @andtheraincamefalling‘s Spring Fling Challenge. Took me a little to try and figure out what to do for this, but this was what came of it and I’m rather proud of it. Gabriel might seem a little OOC, but not a lot. But I think this turned out perfectly for him.

“I'm sorry, but explain to me again why we need to pretend to be married?” (Y/N) demanded, pointing between herself and Gabriel.

“Ouch sweetheart, you're breaking my heart over here,” Gabriel sniffed, placing a hand over his heart, but the smirk on his face wasn't helping.

“Everyone at the resort will recognize me and Dean if we do it, so you have to,” Sam explained, making it seem to simple. But he didn't answer her question.

“Besides, Castiel probably wouldn't get the fact that you aren't actually married and blow your cover,” Dean added, shrugging like it was nothing at all. But to (Y/N), this would be difficult for her because of her feelings for Gabriel, who was also acting like this was no big deal. If only she knew.

“You know what, fine, okay. I'm-I'm gonna go get some ice...” (Y/N) rambled on, grabbing the ice bucket on her way out the door, not noticing the looks the three men were sending her. Sam grabbed a room key and followed after her to make sure she was okay.

He found her standing by the ice machine a few rooms down, just standing there running her hands through her hair before sliding down the wall next to the machine. Sam grabbed the ice bucket and filled it up some before kneeling in front of her.

“Hey kiddo, you okay?”

She looked up a little and gave a tiny smile, “Yeah, I'm okay...*sigh* no, not really but I will be.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Sam asked as he sat in front of her.

“Nah. It's okay; I just needed a minute,” (Y/N) waved off his concern as she relaxed a little.

“So this has nothing to do with your little crush on Gabriel then?” Sam smirked as her eyes went wide at his question.

“How did you know?” she whispered, looking around for anyone who could be listening. Sam chuckled a little before replying, “It was pretty obvious. Dean probably doesn't know and I'm certain Gabe and Cas have no idea either, but the looks you give him when he's not looking, the smile you get when we say he's on his way. (Y/N), how the others didn't notice is beyond me, but it's pretty obvious that you like him. Hell, I've seen the way Gabe looks at you. I'm fairly certain he likes you, too.”

(Y/N) pondered what he told her. Gabe liking her? She didn't see that happening. He'd probably laugh at her for her crush on him. “Sam, I don't see that happening. There's no way he'd like me like that.”

“Well, wait and see then. After this case, if nothing seems to happen, I won't bring it up again. Deal?” he held his hand out for her to shake.

“Deal.” And they shook hands before helping each other up and back to the room.

*Meanwhile*

Dean watched as Sam took off after (Y/N) before turning his attention to the angel in the room. Gabriel was staring at the door, a look of concern and uncertainty almost coloring his face. He seemed to snap out of it as he turned to look at the eldest hunter.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked in earnest.

Dean snorted and replied sarcastically, “You mean recently or before?”

“I'm serious, Dean. Did I do something to upset her? (Y/N) usually likes being around me, but she doesn't seem like herself. Did I upset her?”

Dean's face softened at the look of desperation on his face; he really did care for her. With a sigh, he shook his head and said, “No. You didn't do anything wrong. At least, I don't think you did.”

“Then what is it?” Gabe sat down on the bed nearest the door, his shoulders sagging.

“Honestly? I can't say. It could be nothing, it could be her way of trying to figure out how to deal with the next couple of days at a marriage retreat with a man she has to pretend to be married to and not act on her crush.”

That snagged his attention. “Crush? No way. There's no way she'd like me like that. I know that I have a massive crush on her, but (Y/N) having one on me? That'll never happen.”

Dean stared at Gabriel like he was crazy. Did he not see the way she looked at him? How she'd act when he was around? He was just about as blind as she was. “I'm serious. She has a huge crush on you, like you do apparently. Man, you two sure are oblivious to each other's feelings then. Listen, don't tell her I told you. Who knows, maybe after this is over, you two might admit it to each other yourselves and we don't have to deal with the constant eye gazes from across the room. Just know that if you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me and Sam.”

Gabriel just nodded his head and pondered how this could all go when the room door opened and in walked Sam and (Y/N). They met each others eyes and gave a small smile before looking away or looking like they were busy. All the while, Sam and Dean smirked and shook their heads. These two were so in love with each other it was insane.

*Next Day*

(Y/N) and Gabriel walked hand-in-hand into the resort and was greeted by the perky receptionist, Sarah, behind the desk. Her smile was infectious as she waved at them. “Hi! Welcome to Mountain Springs Resort. How can I help you two?”

“Hi, we're here for the marriage/couples retreat. Under the name Novak,” Gabriel replied, glancing over at (Y/N) and giving her a real smile, not a smirk.

“Novak...Novak....ah! Here we go, Gabriel and (Y/N) Novak, correct?”

“That's right,” (Y/N) said, taking a look around her for a moment.

“Alright here are your keys and the WiFi password. Your room is number 120 on the second floor. If you need anything at all, the front desk number is on the bottom of the paper. The group will be meeting up in about an hour in the lobby over there,” she pointed over to a grouping of couches and chairs on the other side of the entrance.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Gabriel stated, grabbing the two keys and paper and placing them in his pocket before signing the register. All the while, his hand never let go of (Y/N)'s. Picking up their bags, they made their way over to the elevators.

“You two have a good day!” Sarah waved after them before helping the next customer. Once in the elevator, (Y/N) slipped her hand out of Gabriel's grasp, missing the downhearted look on Gabriel's face. She ignored the empty feeling when she let go in favor of pulling out her cell phone, sending a message to Dean that they were there and checked in. Once on their floor, they picked up their bags and walked down to the left and found 120. Gabriel pulled out a key and opened the door, but before (Y/N) had the chance to walk through, he stopped her.

“What's wrong?” she asked, her head tilting to the side slightly.

“Nothing's wrong. Just wanted to do something,” he replied with a smirk.

“What do you-hey! Gabriel! Put me down!” she cried out, laughing a little as he swept her up into her arms and carried her through the doorway. He chuckled at her pout as he sat her down on the bed before going to bring their bags in. After shutting the door, he turned around and realized something...there was only one bed.

“Of course there's only one bed! We're supposed to be married, duh!” he scolded himself in his mind. (Y/N) also noticed the one bed and the couch in the corner of the room. “I can take the couch if you want.”

She just shook her head and responded, “Gabe, it's fine. We're both adults, we can share the bed. Besides, you technically don't need sleep. It's fine.” The slight blush on her face said otherwise, but he didn't comment on it.

“Well, then what shall we do while we wait?” and there was the Gabriel she knew, snark and sarcasm, as he wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“Yeah, no. I'm going to take a shower so if you want to, you could ward the room or something,” she said as she grabbed her toiletry bag and headed into the bathroom. Normally, he would've made a joke about joining her, but this time he wasn't going to. He needed to find a way to make her see that he really did care for her, that he liked her, but he had no idea how.

An hour later, they found themselves down in the lobby with a group of other couples. Some had rings on their fingers and others didn't. It looked like some of the couples knew one another and others just mingled a bit while they waited for their tour guide.

“Alright everyone, those who are here for the couples retreat, please join me over here by the couches,” one man spoke out calling for attention. There was at least a good twenty couples there as they all took a seat on the couches or chairs. Gabriel offered a seat to (Y/N) before taking one next to her. “Hi everyone. My name is Johnathan and this is my partner Steve,” he gestured to the man sitting next to him, “and we are going to be your counselor/tour guides for this next week. I'd like to start today off with some introductions. Just your names, how long you've been together, and what brought you here today, if you're comfortable sharing that is. I'll start off. Steve and I have been together for three years now and we started this retreat to give couples a chance to reconnect, have fun, or just have a new experience. Who would like to go next?”

That's how it went for a few minutes until it came to (Y/N) and Gabriel. “Hi, my name's Gabriel.”

“I'm (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you two. How long have you been together?” Steve asked, a warm smile on his face.

“Eight years,” (Y/N) said as Gabriel replied, “Six years.” There was an awkward silence for a minute until Gabriel broke it laughing.

“Honey, I think what Steve meant was how long we've been married, not how long we knew each other.”

(Y/N) blushed and gave a sheepish smile, “Oops. I always get that mixed up. We've known each other for eight years. He was a friend of my brothers. We've been married for six years.”

“It's quite alright,” Johnathan replied. “So what brought you two here today?”

“Well, like she said, her brothers and I are friends and they know we like to try new things from time to time and this was a gift from them to us. Trying to get us to get away for little while. We've needed a break from work for some time now,” Gabriel spun their tale smoothly, capturing everyone's attention.

“Well we are glad you two are here today. Now before we break for lunch, we're going to do a trust activity. Yes, it sounds totally stupid and cheesy, but it's fun and actually helps. It's to tell your partner why you love them. Easy enough,” Steve stated as he stood up with Johnathan and walked off to one side. The others either got up and moved or shifted their positions a little, like Gabriel and (Y/N) did. He took her hands and looked her in the eyes.

“No jokes here mister. You can save all the silly reasons why for later,” she reminded him, catching a few laughs from some around them.

He gave a dramatic sigh and replied, “Fine.” His smile said he didn't care though. “The reason, one of the reasons anyways, I love you is because every time I see you, no matter what you're doing or where, I can't help but feel like it's the first time I've met you. I fall in love with you all over again and it reminds me of the first time we met. You knocked me off of my feet, literally as you were sparring with Dean and didn't see me and you swung around and I was on the floor. You found it very funny after you were done fussing over me. I could go on, but like you said, the rest are a little silly, so I'll save those for later,” he finished with a little wink.

(Y/N) sat there in shock. Did he mean all of that or was that just for show? He wasn't wrong about how they met though. Dean found it extremely funny that she was able to knock Gabriel flat on his ass on accident. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she gave him a shy smile before replying. “Wow. Glad to know that I left an impression on you even back then. So my turn. The reason I love you is, well I guess that no matter to situation, you can always find a way to diffuse it and make someone laugh. Just listening to your voice, your laugh, I find myself not wanting to listen to anything else. There's probably a few other reasons in there, but they aren't that important right now.”

Gabriel couldn't help the smile on his face as she told her side of this little game. He could see the truth in her eyes as she spoke and when he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her nose, the blush that spread across her cheeks made it worth it. “Keep that up hon and everyone here will think your a trying to be a tomato,” he jested, laughing when she swatted at his shoulder.

“Only 'cause you keep finding ways to embarrass me,” she mumbled, pulling her hands away from Gabriel before crossing them over her chest.

“Aw (Y/N), you're adorable,” he brushed some hair from her face before leaning down to catch her eyes, “hey, look at me.”

(Y/N) looked up and a small smile worked its way onto her face. He had that affect on her.

“I love you, (Y/N). Tomato face and all.” She almost fell over laughing before she caught herself. “You're such a dork, Gabriel. No wonder I love you.”

They both froze a little at their confessions. “Did he/she mean that?” To everyone else, they looked like a couple who was madly in love with each other. Before anyone could say anything, Johnathan and Steve came over and said it was time to break for lunch before they went on to the next activity.

During lunch, (Y/N) broke away to call Sam and get caught up on what was happening with the case. Nothing much was going on so she joined Gabriel again and they enjoyed lunch. The next three days were filled with silly games, relaxing, and story sharing. On the four day, the group was joining on a hike through the woods surrounding the resort. The sight was simply beautiful; all the trees, some of the local wildlife that came to see what was happening, the sound of a creek near by. To (Y/N), it was simply peaceful. Gabriel was mostly just enjoying the look of happiness on her face. Everything was going well until they neared the end of the trail. (Y/N) ran ahead of Gabriel a little to get a picture of some flowers and didn't see the tree root before tripping over it.

“(Y/N), are you okay??” he cried out as he rushed over; a few other members and their guides as well.

“Give her some room.”

“Don't crowd them.”

“Gabe, I'm okay. Stop fussing over me, I'm fine.” Gabriel was kneeling in front of her, wanting to use his grace to fix her injuries, but couldn't with everyone around them. So settled on grabbing her backpack off her back and pulling out the small first aid kit they had in there. Gently, he cleaned and bandaged her knees, as she was telling Steve that she was seriously fine, that she probably just twisted her ankle and it would be alright later. Gabriel put the kit away and helped her to her feet, only to wrap his arms around her waist when she couldn't put any weight on her left foot.

“Babe, you're not fine. I know it's only a twisted ankle, but you can't walk.”

“Yes I can,” (Y/N) pouted but it didn't last as Gabriel placed the bag back on her shoulders and turned around.

“Alright, hop on. I'll carry you back to the hotel.” (Y/N) knew better than to argue; if she did, he could always carry her in his arms instead and he would too.

“Fine. You're not going to take “no” for an answer anyways,” she sighed as she gently climbed on his back, Steve making sure neither fell over.

“You sure you're okay? We can get a golf cart over here if you'd like,” Johnathan offered, but Gabriel waved it off. “Thanks, but we got it. Do this all the time because Bambi here is always tripping over her feet.”

“Hey, I'm not that bad! Sam's the one you gotta watch out for; he's clumsier than I am,” (Y/N) protested, laying her head down on Gabe's shoulder. With that, the group made their way back to the resort and Gabriel took (Y/N) over to first aid and had them check her over. It was just a twisted ankle and would be fine in a few hours. Well, a few minutes after they got back to their room and Gabriel healed it for her. He still insisted on carrying her to their room and she didn't argue.

That night, while (Y/N) was in the shower, Gabriel having taken one earlier, had changed into his pajamas when her phone rang. It was Dean.

“Hey Dean-o. What's shakin'?”

“Gabriel? Where's (Y/N)?”

“In the shower. So what's happening with the case?”

“We found the bones and torched the remains of the jilted woman who was going after the people at the resort. Ghost is gone.”

Gabriel gave a sigh of relief. He and (Y/N) were lucky that the ghost didn't go after them. It should have considering their weren't really together, but maybe their feelings were true enough for her to ignore them seeing as she was going after unfaithful people. “Well that's good. So are we done at the resort or what?”

He could practically hear the grin in his voice as he suggested, “Why don't you two just stay put for the next few days. The retreat is over in three days, why not just enjoy a few days off?”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Besides, it'll give you time to work on a way to tell her.”

“How do you know I haven't?” he challenged, but he knew it was futile.

“Because (Y/N) would've called me or Sam right away, telling us about it. Dude, just tell her. She really does like you man.”

Gabriel sighed through his nose and replied, “You're right. I will.”

“Alright. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He ended the call and the door to the bathroom opened and out walked (Y/N). He recapped what Dean told him, said that they finished the hunt and for them to take the last few days here. Surprisingly she was okay with that.

“Well it makes sense. Why leave now? Yes the case is done, but the room is still rented out. Lets enjoy this break for now,” she stated as she sat next to him on the bed. Gabriel didn't say anything, just smiled and took the brush from her hands and moved until he sat behind her. While he brushed her hair, they watched some cooking show, talking about anything and everything right now before it was time to turn in. The past couple of days, falling asleep next to each other didn't mean anything. Mostly Gabriel laid awake watching over her or spooning her from behind. Tonight, he held her in his arms as she slowly fell asleep. When he thought she was asleep, Gabriel whispered, “I love you, (Y/N)” before closing his eyes himself.

Only (Y/N) was still awake and even if she didn't say anything back, she moved closer just a little before actually falling asleep. These last few days were going to be interesting.

The last night there went out with a bang. There was an annual dance that the retreat always put on and this year was no different. It wasn't anything really formal, so it was a little more fun that way. Gabriel was spinning (Y/N) around, listening to her laugh as he pulled her back in to him. The two of them just swayed to the music, her arms around his shoulder and his around her waist.

“This was a lot of fun,” she whispered, feeling that if she spoke any louder it wouldn't feel the same.

“It was. Remind me to thank those two knuckleheads for suggesting to stay,” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. The music was winding down but they didn't seem to notice. It was just them.

“(Y/N), there's something I need to tell you,” Gabriel spoke up after a few minutes.

“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head a little. “Man, why'd ya do that?”

“I...I love you, (Y/N). And not like how I've said it this past week here, but for real. I really do love you, (Y/N). I just never thought I'd have a shot at someone like you,” Gabriel confessed, his eyes trained on the ground.

“Really? I thought I'd never have a shot at someone like you. I mean, come on, you're an archangel, I'm just a human,” (Y/N) replied, her eyes finding the ground as well, missing how he looked up in shock.

“You're not just some human to me, (Y/N). You're my human. And I wouldn't trade this for anything.”

She looked up at him, and saw nothing but love and truth in his golden eyes. “I can't believe it took a fake marriage for us to realize this.” His laughter was contagious as he let go of her when he doubled over trying to contain himself.

“Oh man sugar. This is definitely gonna be one hell of a story to tell someday,” Gabriel stated as he caught his breath before wrapping his arms around her again.

“Mmhm. Now, remind me again, why did we need to pretend to be married?”

“Maybe because we were too blind to see the truth right in front of us.”

“What are we going to do about that?” she asked sweetly, looking up at him with an innocent look on her face.

“I think I have an idea,” was all he said before placing a kiss upon her lips that was long overdue. They broke apart when the need to breathe became necessary and with a quick peck to her lips again, Gabriel simply pulled her closer and they were content to just be in each other's arms. All that time wasted wishing that the other knew and all they had to do was simply say it.

* Meanwhile *

“You owe me ten bucks,” Sam grinned as Dean pulled out a ten dollar bill from his wallet.

“Whatever. How was I to know that they would just tell each other?” he grumbled handing over the money.

“Dude, it's (Y/N). She doesn't go for anything flashy. That's Gabriel's department. But even I knew he wouldn't do that,” Sam stated as they walked out of the hotel, giving the couple some space.

“How did you know?” Dean questioned as they reached the car.

“He called me earlier and asked the best way to tell her. Told him it was just best to straight up tell her without any extravagance.”

“Son of a bitch! I thought we agreed not to interfere,” Dean countered, pointing a finger at Sam.

“We agreed not to call them and arrange anything. There was nothing said about either of them calling us,” Sam stated with a smug grin as he got into the car.

Dean just sighed and muttered, “Damn it” before getting in the car and driving off. Tomorrow one of them would call to come pick them up, but for now, they just let the couple have their moment. They were sure to hear all about it later.

#spring fling challenge #springflingchallenge #sfc #gabriel x reader #supernatural gabriel #gabriel fluff #a lot of fluff #pretending to be married #my writing

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I… uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

#sam winchester x original female character #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic series #spn fanfiction

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imagineteamfreewill · 6 years

Text

Go to Him

Title: Go to Him

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Word Count: 2,451

Beta: @lipstickandwhiskey

Summary: After your night with Dean, life in the castle is hardly a fairy tale. Dean hasn’t shown his face in days and you can’t help but feel homesick.

A/N: This is part 8 of the Beauty and the Beast series! Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!

Beauty and the Beast Masterlist

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_______________

It had been three days since your night with Dean, and you hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. You knew it was silly to wish that every night could be just like that one had been, but still—it was all you wanted.

Surprisingly, Dean hadn’t come around to see you since then. Sam and Cas had given you vague excuses as to where he’d been, but considering you’d had such a wonderful night, you didn’t want to go searching for the truth and risk upsetting Dean. So, you’d simply gone about your days like you normally would, all the while trying to ignore the burning curiosity as to where and why Dean had disappeared.

“Y/N?”

You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw Sam standing in the open doorway of your bedchambers. His flames flickered merrily and you could tell that he was in a good mood, and almost immediately your mind jumped to the thought that Dean had reappeared once more and was inviting you to dinner again.

“Jody has asked if you would like tea before you retire tonight,” Sam said. “I told her I’d come and ask, but really I’d love to know what you think of the book I recommended.”

You couldn’t help but deflate a little at the realization that Sam’s good mood wasn’t due to Dean being back. “Oh,” you replied, glancing back down at your book. “The book is good, Sam, and you can tell Jody that I’ll take some tea.”

Sam picked up on your change in mood right away, but hesitated before asking, “Are you upset about something?”

Sighing, you marked your page before setting the book down and looking over at him. “Not really. I just wish I knew where Dean went,” you told him. Sam looked away upon hearing his brother’s name, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from mentioning that.

“Dean is… Not well,” Sam finally answered. The light from his candles dimmed a little and anxiety blossomed inside of you.

“What?” Getting to your feet, you hurriedly smoothed your skirt and brushed the hair out of your eyes. “Where is he?”

“You can’t see him,” Sam told you, “But he’s going to be just fine!” His voice was rushed as he tried to placate you. “He just needs peace and quiet to rest!”

Slowly, you sat down, still eyeing Sam. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but something about the way he was trying to keep you from finding his older brother made you think that not everything was the way it seemed.

“Okay…”

Sam nodded in response and turned to leave, but suddenly a thought popped into your head. If Dean really was ill, maybe you could help cheer him up.

“Wait!” you called.

Sam turned to face you again. “What is it?” he asked. “Do you need something else?”

You shook your head and stood, then reached over and pulled out the book Dean had read to you in the garden after he’d told you about your father.

“Would you give this to Dean? Please?” you asked, holding the book out for Sam to see.

Sam’s eyes flicked over the words on the cover, and after a moment, he nodded. “I can do that,” he said, smiling a little. “Do you want me to tell him anything when I give it to him?”

“Just… Tell him that I miss him,” you said.

Sam smiled at that, and you could’ve sworn that there was a hint of excitement both sparkling in his eyes and flickering in his flames.

After helping him tuck the book under one of his metal arms in a way that the pages wouldn’t get singed, you watched Sam hop down the long castle hallway toward the West Wing. Dean was no doubt hiding out there, you decided.

Sighing, you slipped back inside your room and shut the heavy door behind you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to focus on your book again now that you were thinking about Dean, so you tucked your book away and laid down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” Ellen asked.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, surprised that she noticed your change of mood, and that she spoke up. Ellen wasn’t one to talk if she didn’t think the conversation was important.

“It’s nothing,” you told her. The wardrobe raised a thin wooden eyebrow at you and you sighed. “I’m just… worried about Dean,” you admitted.

Ellen dipped slightly as if to nod, then gave you a kind smile. “You’ve got good reason to be. He acts tough, but he’s really not. He needs someone to worry about him, what with everything that’s happened,” Ellen replied.

“What do you mean? What’s happened?” you pressed.

Clearly, Ellen realized that she’d said too much because her smile faded slightly and she asked, “Why don’t you go to the library, Y/N? I’m sure you’ll find something there to take your mind off Dean.”

“Ellen—”

“Go on, dear,” she urged. Her voice left no room for argument, and you let out a little huff of indignation before climbing out of bed and heading to the library.

_______________

It wasn’t until a week later that you ran into Dean again.

You were in the library, your nose in a book and your eyes filled with tears when a shadow fell over the page. When you looked up to see why the light had gone away, you realized that Dean was towering over you. He looked worried- at least you think he looked worried. The tears in your eyes made everything blurry.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and closed the book, then wiped the tears from your cheeks as you gave him a shaky smile. “Nothing, I’m fine. How are you feeling?” you asked. “Sam said you were sick.”

Dean hesitated, clearly wanting to ask you why you were crying, but he simply forced a toothy grin and said, “I’m better. I liked the book you sent me, but I have to tell you something.”

“You… Have to tell me something?”

“Yes.” Dean sighed and rubbed his paw over his face, then sat down in the tiny chair beside you. “I don’t like to read as much as you think I do,” he admitted after a moment, sounding somewhat sheepish.

Relieved that he hadn’t told you anything horrific about himself, you sniffled and smiled up at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Sammy likes it more than I do, but before you arrived there was nothing for me to do but read.”

“So… You read to me to make me happy?” you asked. Dean nodded in response. “No one’s ever done that for me. That was very kind of you.”

Reaching over, you placed your hand on his paw. Dean’s heavy shoulders sagged with relief and you couldn’t help but smile. He smiled in return, and after a second you looked back down at the book you’d set on the table.

“Did you ever read this one? Before I came, I mean?”

Dean looked over at the title and hummed fondly. “That was a favorite of mine early on, but I think they spent too much time describing the castle. He should’ve written more about the prince and the girl and the adventures they went on.”

“I think so too,” you murmured as you ran your fingers over the letters embossed on the worn cover. Dean had certainly read it plenty of times, and you found yourself wondering if you would have read it over and over as well, had you been back home in your village.

“You’ve read it before as well?” Dean asked, picking up on your thoughts.

“Yes,” you replied, fighting back the tears that welled up in your eyes once more. “This was the book I was reading when my father went missing and I—” You stopped, swallowing thickly. The castle had been feeling more and more like a home with each passing day, but suddenly you remembered that it was your prison.

Turning away from Dean, you gathered up the books that you’d been reading that morning and stood. “I should put these away,” you murmured. Your voice wobbled with emotion, but before he could reply, you were moving away from the table to shelve the books.

You were out the door before Dean could figure out what had happened to upset you, leaving him sitting alone in the castle library.

_______________

Two hours later, you were crying into a pillow in your bedchambers. Your homesickness had grown and grown as the day went on, and finally, the dam had burst. So, you’d locked yourself in your room and told one of the enchanted feather dusters to pass on the message that you wouldn’t be eating dinner. All you wanted was to be home, and if you couldn’t have that, being alone was a good substitute. Someone, however, hadn’t gotten the message and they’d been knocking on the door for several minutes.

Finally, you’d had enough.

“What?” you snapped as you pulled the heavy door open.

Dean was standing on the other side, and as soon as he saw you, his face fell. “You’ve been crying. You’re upset.”

“And?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “What does it matter to you?”

“Your happiness is important to me, Y/N,” he said. “If there’s something I can do to make you happy, I wish that you would tell me.”

You scoffed at that. “How can I be happy when I’m a prisoner, Dean? This isn’t my home. This isn’t anybody’s home! It’s a cold, dark castle, and no matter how many books and gardens there are, it will always be a prison to me. I could never be happy here.”

“But you were happy…”

“I was disillusioned. There’s nothing you can do to make me happy here, Dean. Nothing,” you repeated.

Dean was silent for a long moment, and you were just about to shut the door when he reached up and stopped you. “Come with me,” he said.

“Why should I?” you asked. “I want to be alone.”

“Please.”

Something about the way he said that one single word made you stop, and after a few seconds, you nodded in agreement. Dean didn’t say anything more; he simply turned and began walking toward the West Wing. You followed close behind, and once you’d reached the long-forgotten sitting room, you looked around. Your eyes immediately landed on the rose you’d been banned from going near. Much to your surprise, however, Dean led you right up to the rose.

“Take this and ask for what you’d like to see,” he instructed as he picked up an ornate hand mirror you hadn’t seen before.

Hesitantly, you took the mirror from him and inspected it. It didn’t look like anything special, but if the castle’s inhabitants had taught you anything, it was that things weren’t always what they seemed.

“Alright,” you agreed, unsure as to what was going to happen, “I would like to see my father.”

The image in the mirror changed almost instantly. You were so surprised that you almost dropped it, but Dean reached out to help keep it steady. You shot him a thankful glance before returning your gaze to the mirror.

“Father?” you whispered when the reflection in the mirror became clear enough to reveal your father’s face instead of your own.

“He can’t hear you,” Dean told you, his voice quiet. “Just watch.”

You nodded slightly and kept your eyes on the mirror. As you watched, you saw Cole grab your father and push him toward a wooden cart. Another man in a long black cloak opened the door on the back, and you realized what was happening as Cole tried to push your father into the dark, enclosed space. They were surrounded by the townspeople you’d grown to know, but the expressions they held were nothing like the kind ones you’d seen every morning. You couldn’t hear the words they were saying, but you could tell that they were mocking your father. Your chest grew tight and tears filled your eyes as you watched the crowd jeer and shout at him. Despite all of this, you couldn’t look away from the mirror. You hadn’t seen your father in months, and even though seeing him in danger made your heart hurt, you couldn’t force yourself to look away.

“He’s in trouble,” you sobbed, your hand pressed against your mouth as you watched some of the other townspeople jostle your father closer to the cart. “Father! Oh, Dean! They’re going to hurt him!”

“You must go to him,” Dean said.

Surprised, you looked up and realized that he was serious.

“Take one of the horses in the stables and save your father. You are the only one who can help him,” he told you, his voice earnest. “Promise me you’ll take this mirror, though.” Dean clasped the edge of the mirror for a moment before letting go of it once more. “I want you to have it so you remember this place.”

It only took you a second to process what had happened, and suddenly it felt like you could breathe again. You were free.

“Thank you,” you gasped. “Thank you, Dean.”

You threw your arms around Dean and squeezed tightly, then broke away and sprinted back the way you had come. You knew exactly where the stables were, and even though you’d never seen any horses there, you had no doubts that there would be one there now.

“I’m coming, Father,” you murmured as you mounted the horse that was already saddled and waiting for you when you finally ran into the abandoned stables. “I’m coming, and I’m going to save you.”

You dug your heels into the horse’s sides and it took off, galloping faster than any other horse you’d ever seen. The two of you were already halfway through the castle’s extensive gardens when you pulled back on the reins and slowed to a stop, then looked back at the tower you’d long ago identified as the one in the West Wing.

“I promise I’ll come back, Dean,” you said. There was no reason for you to want to come back, but a small part of you realized that you really would miss Dean now that you were free. He’d become a friend, as had Sam and Cas and the rest of the castle’s staff, but Dean was special. He was something to you that you’d never had before, and you would miss that.

“I promise.”

________________

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If your name is bold and crossed out, it means I cannot tag you. If this happens repeatedly, you will be taken off the tag list to allow more room for other people that want to be tagged.

Forever: @deathtonormalcy56 @purgatoan @feelmyroarrrr @shadowgirl077 @mogarukes @jayankles @amaranthinecastiel @jpadjackles @d-s-winchester @kickasscas67 @mrswhozeewhatsis @therebel1967 @supernatural-harrypotter7 @allinhishands @ultimatecin73 @crystallstaircase @a-screaming-ghost @huffleypuffelycas @procrastinating-fallen-angel @kittycat-cas @dracsgirl @deansleather @queenindecisive @wildfirekhaleesi @fuckyeahfeysand @sandlee44 @plaidstiel-wormstache @spontaneousam @kristaparadowski @adaliamalfoy @winchesterforever12 @fangirl1802 @supernaturalyobessed @mamaredd123 @findingfitnessforme @weepingrebelhottub @notesfromalabprincess @dustycelt @becaamm @riversong-sam @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @therewillbeblood @fangirlwithasweettooth @ohgodjensen @notmoose45 @yvngkinggchristyy @becs-bunker @wingsanddarkness @docharleythegeekqueen @xthefuckerysquaredx @megasimpleplan4ever @tiffanycaruso @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @lynnebla @crushing83 @4401lnc @essie1876 @lostnliterature @apeshit7x @emoryhemsworth @illbewendyyoubepeter @l4life @beatlesobsessionlove @goldenolaf25 @shellbraa @sammiesamness @tattooedmomster13 @carryonmyswansong @authoressskr

Dean: @lipstickandwhiskey @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @beriala @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @treble-maker95 @sis-tafics @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @samanddeanwinchester67 @ferferelli @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @ackleslaugh @fangirling-instead-of-working @hellbentcrowley @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @torn-and-frayed @spnsimpleman @faith-in-dean @mamaimpala @winchesterfiesta @pada-ackles-reads @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @thebunkerismyhome @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @shipping-people-writing-things @tia58 @sams-little-toy @sunriserose1023 @dr-dean @saving-things-hunting-family @winchesterswoonathon @a-closet-full-of-skeletons @ruprecht0420 @thegoodhunterrr5 @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @deantbh @babypieandwhiskey @waywardjoy @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @spn-fan-girl-173 @samsgoddess @thegreatficmaster @megansescape @faegal04 @everyday-supernatural-af @wevegotworktodo @deerlululucy @supermoonpanda @sleep-silent-angel @trenchcoats-and-bees @not-so-natural-spn @shelovesallthethings @memariana91 @chelsea-winchester @revwinchester @supernaturalyobessed @matteson-crazed @allonsy-yesiwlill @akshi8278 @donnaintx @iwrotemyownending @quiddy-writes @lavieenlex @winchesterseeker @crazysocklovingfangirl @love-me-some-pie21 @naturegirl70 @its-not-a-tulpa

BatB: @hexparker @pureawesomeness001 @beatlesobsessionlove @xgeekifiedx @megiestuff @lenaabs @holywinchesterness @gracie-gnz @grace-for-sale @sireennotsiren @nerd1311

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thespnfriends · 3 years

Text

When A Monster Strikes- Chapter Eight

*Disclaimer: We don’t own Supernatural, it belongs to it’s respective creators.* -TheSPNFriends

The Truth of it All

(Jess's POV)

Doug Pritchard lived only twenty minutes outside the city of Columbia, South Carolina. Dean and Sam told Jess to stay in the car while they 'questioned' Doug.

"I don't understand why I can't come in," Jess said as she watched Dean walk around to the trunk of the Impala.

"Jess we don't know this guy. We want you to stay safe and out of harm's way. So, stay here please." Sam said from the front seat. Jess sighed but leaned back in her seat. She knew they were just trying to look out for her.

"Are these monkey suits really necessary?" Dean asked as he emerged from the boot of the car and checked his gun once more.

"Sadly they are."

"I think you both look handsome." Jess smiled at them. Dean's eyes seemed to sparkle but Sam saw through it.

"Nice try. You're still staying here." Sam said as he exited the vehicle and Jess gave a pout. 'It was worth a shot anyway.' Jess thought as she saw them climb the steps to the old house they were parked in front of.

Since Sam and Dean were going in to see Doug, Jessica was left in the car and she frowned as she forgot to ask them for the keys so she could listen to some tunes. She didn't want her phone to die just in case Rachel called so, it looked like she'd be spending her time in silence. It was only ironic that Castiel decided now was a good time to show back up. One minute Jess was humming to herself and then the next thing she knew she was staring at Cas.

"Cas!"

"Jessica, it is good to see you."

"Right back at ya, Mr. Magician." She said with a laugh in her voice. The nickname was starting to stick it seemed.

They sat in silence until Jessica blurted out what he'd missed...for obvious reasons she left the part out where she hit Sam in the face.

"I think I've heard of a similar problem once. A long time ago in Scotland." Jessica's eyes lit up.

"Really? I'll have to tell Sam, could be a potential lead. Thanks."

The angel smiled and looked out the window and the car fell into a comfortable silence. He was probably thinking hard about something, maybe it had to do with why he left earlier.

"So, Dean said you just disappear sometimes." She said to him which he nodded.

"On occasion, it does happen."

"So, where did you go," She asked and then blinked. "I'm sorry that's rude." She said with a frown.

"No that is okay. Ever since I saved Dean, the other angels have been after me. I can't stay around the Winchesters for long because my former superiors are fascinated with them." Jess looked to Cas with a confused look.

"They have the same last name?" She asked the angel as Cas blinked.

"Sam and Dean are brothers. I see they didn't mention that." Jess thought it was odd they hadn't told her that but maybe as they were trying to track down Rachel it had just slipped their minds. Jess laughed. Sam and Dean looked nothing alike so she never would've guessed, she had just assumed they were really close...like best friends.

The car was silent once more. Cas was nice and Jessica found herself liking the angel quite a bit. He was not what she had expected but she really didn't know what to expect honestly.

Jess leaned back against the seat. The past couple days had been so busy she was content just sitting here. Jessica started humming again, some tune her mother used to hum when she was a child. She hadn't thought about her mom in a while.

'Maybe after all this, Rachel and I could visit her...bring some nice flowers...'

About fifteen minutes later, the boys came strolling back to the car with a stack of books. Jess waited until they were at least a minute down the road before she aired her questions.

"So what did Doug have to say?" Dean rolled his eyes as he flipped through the radio stations, looking for something. Neither of the boys had acknowledged Castiel's presence in the backseat. Jess leaned up and grabbed one of the books piled on the front seat.

"A lot. We may have to look more up in the lore but Doug was really helpful. He says we may be dealing with a Nuckelavee." Jessica grimaced at the word. Whatever that was didn't sound too great.

"They are native to Scotland." The gruff voice of the angel spoke up. Dean jumped and Sam glanced in the rearview mirror.

"How did you... Cas? When did you get here?" Sam asked.

"I've been on Earth for a while now... I thought you knew that?" He asked with confusion covering his face.

"No Cas. Sam meant in the car. When did you appear in the car?" Dean asked with an annoyed expression.

"Shortly before you two went inside the residence of Doug Pritchard."

"Well, thanks for showing up." The words seemed lost to Cas though as he leaned forward to look at Sam.

"Sam, how did you get the bruise on your face?" .

"Um, it's nothing," Sam said while looking at Jess through the rearview. Cas turned inquisitively toward Jessica, tilting his head to the side and squinted his eyes.

"Did you hit Sam? Why? What did he do?"

"How did you-wait a second, can you read minds?" She asked and looked at Sam and Dean to confirm but it looked like they were confused for some reason.

"I do have the ability, yes." He said and her eyes bugged out. Cas reached out and touched Sam's forehead. Jessica watched in awe as the bruise miraculously disappeared from Sam's face.

"Woah." She whispered in amazement.

"Thanks, Cas."

"You're welcome, Sam," Cas then turned to look at Jessica, "and Jessica try not to hit anyone again." A sheepish smile skirted across Jessica's face as she nodded her head. Cas then proceeded to look back out the window. Jess felt like a child getting scolded and decided to change the subject.

"Do you think we'll figure this out, and save Rachel in time?" She asked anyone.

"We'll do our best, I promise," Dean said as he looked at the girl in the backseat of the beloved car.

Jess sighed, while these guys were great she just wanted everything to be normal again. She should have been at her job watching young children ride various pony themed rides to their heart's content. Instead, she was here looking for Rachel and her kidnapper. She didn't want to think about not finding Rachel, but every day that went by their chances got lower and lower of finding her.

• • • • • •

(Dean's POV)

A few hours later, Jessica had fallen asleep and Castiel had left saying that he would scout ahead but Dean wasn't sure what the angel was up to. He had told him he'd be back when they needed him. The music was turned down as the impala traveled on down the road.

Sam looked over his shoulder at Jess before looking at his brother.

"So he was right," Dean said from the driver's seat. He wasn't looking at Sam and he hadn't mentioned any names but Sam knew who he was talking about. They came to stop at a red light. He didn't want Jess to get sucked into this life of theirs but every day they didn't find Rachel it could become more of a possibility. He didn't want her to lose her only family.

"Had a feeling we were walking into some trap or another mystery spot situation but Gabriel was really just trying to help," Sam said.

"Let's get out of this first before you praise that clown," Dean told his brother as he gunned the engine and rambled on down the road...after the light turned green of course. He didn't really trust that wayward angel but, it seemed as if he had sent them a solid lead which was something. The little town definitely had something going on in it, that was for sure.

Dean saw Sam get more comfortable in his seat as he grabbed the map out of the glove compartment, opening it up and scanning the page while saying, "Obviously there is a reason he left that note for us...all this does feel a bit odd but now we're here. Could she be the one Gabe was talking about?"

"Who knows man...let's just help her alright...and as for this prophecy that may or not be true..." Dean trailed off as they pulled into the motel.

"We'll figure the rest out later?" Sam asked.

"We'll figure the rest out later." Dean echoed.

Previous: Seven Next: Nine

#SPNfic #spn #when a monster strikes #TheSPNFriends #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #CAS #Jessica Coleman #supernatural #when a monster stikes series #spn fanfic series

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luciferismyhomeboy · 7 years

Text

Remembering You - Part 1

Pairings: Lucifer x You

Word Count: 2,886

Warnings: None yet :)

Author’s Note: Sorry this was a little later than I promised, but I hope you all like it! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

You had known the Winchesters for years. Hell, you had all but grown up with Dean and even regarded Sam as a pseudo-younger brother. Bobby had raised you after both your parents had been killed on a hunt and though he tried his best to keep you from the life, you had become a Hunter all the same. You could see the blame in his eyes every time you came home bloody or broken, but you assured him that this was what you wanted. You could never imagine yourself doing anything else. You loved the life.

A few years after Bobby died, the Winchesters had invited you to stay at the bunker with them and you took them up on it. For the most part, you now hunted with them instead of alone, but sometimes you went off by yourself. And it was on one of these solo escapades that Lucifer escaped his Cage for the second time, hitching a ride in Castiel, your resident angel. Of course you had no idea that he wasn’t Cas. Lucifer was just using him as a vessel. So when you thought you were asking Cas for help with researching a new case, it was really Lucifer.

You hadn’t suspected a thing and had actually been getting along with “Cas” better than you ever had before. You had never had problems with the angel, but he could be a stick in the mud and you actually possessed a sense of humor, so you had never really vibed. That afternoon, to your pleasant surprise, you had been laughing and joking with him for a few hours before Sam and Dean arrived at the bunker and informed you of who he really was. He poofed away and you hadn’t seen him since.

After the Darkness and God had left, you were spending a day being lazy for once. You had ordered pizza and bought a few racks of beer, and the brothers and you were just hanging out. It was at that moment that Lucifer reappeared in a new blond vessel, though you didn’t know what color his hair was at first because he was drenched in blood. He locked eyes with you, tried to speak, and collapsed on the floor.

There had been a huge argument after that, especially when Lucifer didn’t wake up right away. The brothers explained who the man covered in blood was, because of course you didn’t know yet (you hadn’t been involved in that whole Apocalypse business a few years ago when they had first let the archangel free) and then debated killing him. You quickly put an end to that talk. After all, he was defenseless right now. It just wouldn’t be right. The boys had argued with you, but you put your foot down. And so they made you his babysitter as revenge.

That was three weeks ago and Lucifer still had not woken up. He was on a bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by holy oil. The plan was to light the ring once he woke up, but you were starting to wonder if that was ever going to happen.

Dean and Sam had helped you move Lucifer to the bed where he was now, but that was all they did. You had been responsible for cleaning the blood off him, which you did, and bandaging his many wounds. You couldn’t tell what kind of knife caused them, but you did think it was weird that his wounds hadn’t healed themselves. You thought that was one of the many perks of being an angel. The brothers weren’t any help. They just shrugged and went on their way. Cas didn’t know either.

Cas was the only one who was willing to help you. You stayed in Lucifer’s room most of the time, but you needed to eat and sleep, so Cas would stay with him while you did that. Of course, the brothers and Cas were all away when Lucifer woke up.

You had fallen asleep in the chair by his bed, but outside the ring of oil, your book open to the page you had been reading on your chest. Something woke you suddenly and you looked around the room blearily until you realized who was looking back at you. You jolted into full consciousness and fumbled for the lighter, but it was gone. No, there it was! On the floor! You grabbed it and shakily rose to your feet. Lucifer was just looking at you in confusion. He was still reclined on the bed, but his eyes tracked you as you moved.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” You warned. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, which in turn confused you.

“What…happened?” He asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” You answered. He looked around him suddenly before looking back at you.

“Where am I?”

“The bunker,” You said carefully. “You came here by yourself.”

“Oh.” He appeared to mull it over for a second. “And what was I doing before that?”

“What? How the hell should I know?”

The confused look was back. “Aren’t we friends?”

“No.”

“Oh, um, okay. Sorry.”

He was acting really weird and you were suspicious. What was the game here? He could have left a long time ago but he didn’t. He could have left before you even knew he was awake, but he hadn’t. What was going on?

“Um, could I ask you one more thing?” He asked hesitantly, wringing his blanket between his hands.

“What?” You said warily.

He looked apologetic. “Uh, do you, uh, know my name?”

You gaped at him, which seemed to make him even more nervous. But you couldn’t help it. You were trying to figure out how to respond. Was he trying to deceive you for some reason? Or was he actually telling the truth? And how could you be sure?

“You don’t remember anything?”

“No,” He answered, then reconsidered. “Well, I do remember one thing.”

“What?”

“You.” He said earnestly. “For some reason, the only memory I have is of us in some sort of library. We seemed to be having a good time. That’s why I thought we were friends.”

You cocked your head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Why wouldn’t Lucifer remember anything about himself but remember that couple hour chunk of time with you? It just didn’t make sense.

“Uhhhh, excuse me a sec.”

You fished in your pocket and pulled out your cell phone. You gave Lucifer a big, and very fake, smile as you punched in a number you knew by heart.

“What happened?” Dean answered, cutting straight to the chase as always.

“Well…he woke up.”

“And? Did you light the holy oil?”

“Uh…no.”

“Why the hell not?” He said angrily.

“There’s a complication.”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me he escaped.”

“Um, no. That’s not it. He doesn’t remember anything.”

“About what happened?”

“No, about anything. Dean, he doesn’t know who he is.” You turned to see Lucifer poking at a deep, half-healed wound on his arm. “Hey, knock it off!” He stopped with a sheepish look.

“I call bullcrap.” Dean growled. “Don’t believe him.”

A flutter of wings sounded and suddenly Cas appeared in the room. Lucifer jumped and almost fell out of bed as the angel approached him rapidly and placed two fingers on the archangel’s forehead. Cas frowned.

“He’s not faking it.” He said in his low voice.

Lucifer looked around wide-eyed. “Where did you come from? And why would I be faking it? And how would you know even if I was?”

Cas ignored him and just looked at you.

“Cas says he isn’t faking.” You repeated into the phone.

Dean cursed. “Alright, we’ll finish up here and get back as soon as we can. Probably will be a few days though.”

“What am I supposed to do with him?”

“I don’t know, but Y/N, please be careful, alright?”

“Sure, sure.” You said absently, hanging up. You looked at the angels, who were both looking back at you expectantly. “So, what now?”

Lucifer and Cas sat at the table while you started the oven to cook some food. You were still in a daze from this strange turn of events. Lucifer hadn’t been wearing much while he had been bedridden, so you had had to scrounge around in Dean’s room to find him some clothes. Dean would be angry when he found out but he deserved it for sticking you with babysitter duty. Luckily Cas had decided he would stay to help you, just in case Lucifer was still somehow faking it. Not that a regular angel would be much help against an archangel, but you appreciated the gesture. You were lost in your thoughts so deeply that it took you a moment to realize that Lucifer was speaking.

“So, who am I then? At least tell me my name.” Though Cas was sitting right next to him, he was looking at you to respond.

You took a deep breath. “Lucifer.”

“Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

You cocked your head and looked at Cas. “How does he know that?”

“He has general knowledge. It must be from his vessel. But the part of him that remembers his angel life has been hidden.”

“Angel? Whoa, whoa, guys, what are you saying here? Am I in some kind of institution?” Lucifer said, half-jokingly.

“So he’s his vessel, essentially?”

Cas shook his head. “The human part is dead. He is still Lucifer. His personality, sense of humor, and quirks will all be the same. He just doesn’t have his memories.”

Lucifer’s eyes slid over to you. “Okay, I’m starting to get freaked out here. Can someone fill me in?”

You sighed. “You are Lucifer. The Devil. Satan. All that good stuff. About a month ago, you just appeared in our living room covered in blood and collapsed on the floor. You’ve been out ever since. We have no idea what happened to you.”

“So if we aren’t friends, why did you keep me safe?”

“Dean and Sam want to send you back into the Cage.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows drew together. “Dean is that guy you were talking to on the phone, right? Who’s Sam? And they want to put me in a cage?”

“Not a cage, the Cage. Your Cage.” You could tell you were confusing him further, so you stopped and started over. “Dean and Sam Winchester live here in the bunker as well. They’re Hunters, just like me.”

“Hunters? Like, deer?”

“No,” You were starting to get frustrated, so you sat down next to Lucifer and started at the beginning. You explained everything, from how you met the Winchesters to Bobby, to the apocalypse, and then to the Amara business. By the time you were finished, the chicken that you had put into the oven had fully cooked and so you got up to get it.

“Wow,” Lucifer said, leaning back in his chair. “Just…wow.”

“So you can understand why we’re a little concerned that you’re faking, right?” You asked as you prepared two plates of food. Cas never ate.

“Yeah.” He answered. “I can. But I’m really not faking this.”

You grabbed some silverware and went back to the table, placing a plate in front of Lucifer. Then you sat down yourself.

“That remains to be seen.” You said, cutting into your chicken. You completely missed the hurt look that crossed his face. “Now eat.”

Once the food had been put away and everything had been cleaned, you and Cas decided to give Lucifer his own room in the bunker. The room he had been staying in just wouldn’t do anymore, especially since he had very human needs these days, like showering and using the bathroom. The two of you decided to put him in the room right next to yours in case anything happened, and Cas would stand guard outside the door at night.

You led Lucifer to the room and let him in. It was pretty basic. A queen sized bed against the far wall with a nightstand and a small lamp. There was a bathroom to the left, and a dresser and arm chair to the right. Lucifer looked around apprehensively.

“It’s kind of…small.”

“Well, I’m sorry that we don’t have any suites available, Your Majesty.” You retorted sarcastically.

His eyebrows drew together. “That’s not what I meant. It just makes me feel confined.”

You were so tired. “Well it’s all we got.”

He took a few steps inside and looked around. Then he turned and sat on the bed, testing it out. He looked back up at you and you were suddenly reminded of a lost puppy. If Lucifer was not faking, and that was a big if, then he was lost and alone right now and the way you were acting towards him was only making it worse. It could be said that he deserved this treatment, but you just didn’t feel right about it. He seemed so innocent. You went and sat beside him on the bed, much to Cas’ chagrin.

“Look, we’re going to figure this out, okay?” You said to him, patting him on the arm. “You’ll be back to being the big bad Devil in no time.”

He sighed and nodded, and you squeezed his arm comfortingly. “I’ll come back to get you for breakfast.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime?” He asked, glancing first at where your hand was touching him and then at your face.

You shrugged. “Probably just read until I fall asleep. Why?”

“Could you maybe read in here?” He asked hesitantly. “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Uhhhh…why?”

“I just don’t really want to be alone.” He said, his blue eyes somehow both nervous and sad. He didn’t seem embarrassed at not being able to be alone. He was truly…innocent.

You glanced at Cas, who shook his head slightly.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I can do that.” You said, watching as Cas clenched his jaw. “Just let me go get you some pajamas and get ready for bed, and I’ll come back.”

You walked out of his room and Cas followed you down the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” The angel demanded in his gravelly voice.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” You shot back testily, not bothering to turn around.

“I heard you just fine. My question is why?”

“Why what?”

Cas grabbed your arm, firmly but gently, and whirled you around until you were chest to chest with him. “Why are you being kind to him?”

You took a step back and crossed your arms. “Is there something wrong with what I’m doing?”

“Y/N, you can’t underestimate him. He could still be faking.”

“I don’t think he is.”

Cas took a step forward. He was inches from your face. “Do not forget that I was his vessel for a time. I know what he is capable of.”

“Cas, I would never forget that.” You said quietly. His features softened. “And I know what he’s capable of too. But you said it yourself that he wasn’t faking.”

“Not in a way that I could detect.” He said defensively.

“What would his endgame be? He could have killed me and been away before I had even woken up.”

“I’m not so sure he would have killed you. He seemed quite fond of you that time in the library.” He looked almost…jealous? No, that couldn’t be right.

“Well, he could have zapped away before I woke up then.” You said automatically, before fully registering what the angel had said. “Wait, what? Fond of me? Lucifer?”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. He enjoyed his time with you. I could feel it. He told me it had something to do with how you treated him. You actually enjoyed his company and no one else has for a long time.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I thought he was you.” You said incredulously.

“He knew that. But he still liked you. Maybe that has something to do with why he showed up here.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t change how I’m going to act towards him.”

“I would think that you would treat him like the insane archangel he is.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen him? He looks so lost. I’m not going to make him feel worse. He can’t even remember what he’s done wrong.”

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable.”

You turned away from him and opened your door. “Maybe so, but I don’t care.”

You heard a flutter of wings and knew that he was gone. A slight moment of panic hit you when you realized that you were alone with the Devil, but it was over quickly. You got ready for bed and then stole into Dean’s room to grab Lucifer some pajamas. Cas still hadn’t returned when you knocked on Lucifer’s door and then entered. He was nervously pacing the area in front of the bed when you came back, stopping when he realized you were back.

“Everything alright?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I just didn’t know if you were coming back.”

“I said I was coming back, didn’t I?” He nodded. “Well then, I’m coming back. Now, go put these on.”

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