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zepskies · 4 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos.

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email.

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.)

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else.

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

The bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.”

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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castiwls · 3 months

Note

Hey there! 😀 Can I request two sets of headcanons about being Sam and Dean's twin sister?

"i was with you before we were even born"

Being the boy's twin

Dean

He’s older by like 5 minutes (he never lets you forget it)

You were both really close even as babies. I imagine there was a phase where if your parents separated you both for too long you would cry.

You both get closer after the fire. For the first few months, you would always curl up in the same bed together out of fear of the other one disappearing.

As a teen, you started to question your dad more and more about hunting. You're not as complacent as Dean is to John and his rules. This led to many arguments.

“Why can’t you just do as he says?” “Because Dad’s word isn't god Dean!”

He’d be just as protective over you as he is of Sam.

When Sam left for Stanford you and Dean started to take cases on your own.

You would try and sabotage any hookups he found in bars. You really hated having to go for ‘walks’ during said hookups. He got you back for it.

You both look very alike.

When it was just you and Dean hunting there were multiple times where people would mistake you for a couple of cases.

After your dad died you and Dean didn’t talk for a while. You both argued over why John did what he did and it led to one of your worst fights.

Bobby had to kick sense into you both.

You and Dean don’t fight often but when you do it's bad. When you were younger one time it got so bad that it took Sam yelling and walking out for you both to stop.

When Castiel came around you were unsure but after he saved you on a hunt you began to trust him.

Knowing Dean wasn’t ok after Hell and begging him to talk.

“Dean I know you're not ok.” You frowned and reached out to his arm. “You can talk to me, no one's gonna judge you.”

He did eventually tell you he remembered hell. He begged you not to tell Sam though. (You did tell Sam though)

Finding out about the whole vessel thing and freaking out.

“What do you mean vessels? Why is Heaven and Hell’s fight our issue?”

Since you and Dean were twins you both were classed as Micheal vessels.

You were adamant that Dean wasn’t doing it and he was the same about you.

This again led to another argument.

In the end, there was no way you were letting Sam walk into that fight alone so you ended up saying yes also.

Dean was pissed.

Dean begging for months after that Cas or someone would pull you both out of the cage. (Little did he know someone had)

You randomly appeared on Lisa’s doorstep 6 months later and Dean completely freaked.

After that, he barely let you out of his sight.

You didn’t tell him about Sam also being out (You knew something was wrong with your younger brother and you didn’t wanna worry Dean.)

Eventually reuniting with Sam and feeling so guilty when you found out he had no soul.

Dean insisted that it wasn’t your fault.

He helped you with nightmares from the cage. You found yourself sleeping in the same bed as him again.

Sam

You were older by like 10 minutes. You always teased him about it.

He got you back by teasing you over being short.

Neither of you have any memories of life before the fire so as children you used to both make up stories to help comfort each other.

These stories helped you both pretend that you at least knew your mom and what normal life was like.

You both kinda depended on each other growing up.

While you didn’t verbalise it like Sam, you also didn’t like hunting or the constant moving around.

You were a bit more of a social butterfly than your twin but you still struggled with having to make new friends constantly.

Like your brother, you were also quite smart and did well in school.

For a while, you wanted to be a doctor but knew realistically you had no chance.

As you got older you began to grow a slight resentment towards your dad for forcing you all into this life. One day after a bad hunt you snapped and told your dad how you felt. New’s flash it went really bad.

Your eyes widened as you realised what you had just said. Dean slowly pushed his arm in front of you urging you to move back as your Dad turned to face you. “What did you just say.” Your dad’s voice was hard as he took a step forward. You felt Sam pull you back further as Dean tried to defuse the situation.

After that things were awkward for a while. You went to go stay with Bobby much to Sam’s disdain.

You came back a year later when you were 17.

Things were ok until Sam left for Stanford. You were happy for him but also jealous that he was getting out and you weren't.

During that time you and Dean became close.

Reconnecting with Sam after your dad went missing and helping him when Jess died.

Feeling guilty when your dad died that you spent so much time resenting him (He apologised just before Azael came)

Unlike your brother, Azael didn’t do anything to you so you never had any issues with demon blood.

Convincing Sam that he wasn’t a monster.

When he died the first time you were inconsolable for days.

You and Dean arguing over Deans's deal.

Hating Ruby and knowing she was up to something. Her also causing you and Sam to fall out over his powers.

You and Dean both knew that while Sam was trying to do a good thing she was not.

Helping him with his guilt over Litlth and Lucifer.

Him and you making up after Rubys' death. This actually made you and Sam closer than ever.

Again having to convince him that he is not a bad person when the whole Lucifer and Micheal thing comes to light.

You’re the middleman in the situation. You spent most of your time trying to convince both your brothers not to say yes.

Convincing Dean but not managing to convince your twin.

Before saying yes Sam said that he wanted you to get out and have a normal life.

You were pretty heartbroken but after hanging around Dean and Lisa for a few months you ended up meeting someone (Lisa set you up but you don’t know that)

You both moved in together and you found yourself actually enjoying this normal life.

Then Sam appeared and you had to choose. Dean told you to stay but you knew you couldn’t leave Sam.

When you found out about Sam having no soul you felt so guilty.

“How didn't I realise sooner?” You sat down on the bed placing your head in your hands. Dean gently rubbed your back with a small sigh. “None of us knew. It’s not your fault.

You ended up kinda living two lives for the next year until Sam got his soul back and you realised living two lives was too dangerous. You broke up with him but you both ended up getting back together a few years later.

Sam was happy that you'd found someone and pushed for you to stay with him. But you knew your place was always gonna be with your brothers.

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doctorprofessorsong · 1 month

Text

OK listen.

I love the confession for the absolutely heart wrecking romantic gesture it was. The act of pure love that brought a cosmic being true happiness in a way he has never known. The way he looked at Dean Winchester, still beautiful, and told him with his dying breath "I love you." Pure true romance.

But as a casgirl (TGP Janet voice: not a girl), I also think a lot about

Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean

From a character arc perspective this makes me want to walk into the sea. It's so fucking beautiful.

Cas is talking about the transformative power of love. Metatron was right. He was in love with humanity BECAUSE he learned to love from Dean. Because he loves Dean. Even before he can put words to it. And therefore he does love the whole world.

Cas was a loyal soldier. Lobotomies acknowledged, he murdered for Heaven over and over. He killed kids.

He wasn't strolling through Hell, saw a beautiful soul, and decided to rescue it. He was on a mission and he believed it to be a righteous one. A good one. He was actively working to cause the apocalypse and thought Dean should believe it an honor to be used.

Watching him untangle that past and learn to love and more importantly to be loved is something that speaks to me.

He isn't seeking redemption. He doesn't think he's redeemable in that sense (or perhaps it's more accurate to say forgiveness is something that he can’t control. It must be given from people like Lily Sunder)

But he does believe he can change and love and build a family even though he can't undo his past.

He doesn't have to let the past define who he is, and he doesn't have to serve the purpose his family believes is set out for him.

In 15x15, Cas says:

Like he still lives with his trauma but he isn't defined by it. He rebuilt himself and found a family and has a kid. He loves and is loved.

Anyway, yes he loves Dean, but he also loves the world. He also changed. And that is just as beautiful to me.

#i am being so normal today about Castiel Supernatural #terminal casgirlism (gn)#castiel #the transformative power of love #spn 15x15 #spn 15x18 #he really was in love with humanity #who knew #supernatural #spn

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 years

Text

A Good Man (Dean Winchester)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Wife!Reader

Summary: Dean never wanted kids. Until he married you, and now he's changed his mind.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children, you don't want kids) p in v, brief fingering, creampie, breeding kink, bit of dirty talk, established relationship, cursing.

WC: 3.4k I'm sorry

A/N: Idk what has gotten into me lately, but it's just filth all up in this head. Just one thought, dean and kids. That's it. He wouldve been a great dad if the writers didnt hate him, fight me. If this flops I'll cry myself to sleep. Kay enjoy the not soldier boy filth

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Dean never wanted kids. Not really. How could he? He could never be selfish enough to bring a child into his life. His way of life wasn't the life any child deserved. He knew he didn't. But he didn't know if he could ever give up hunting, it was all he had ever known. All he was raised to do. And deep down, that's exactly what he didn't want, he didn't want to be the father he had, and in so many ways he and John were alike. So he promised himself he would never bring a child into this world, into his life.

And then he met you.

The sweetest girl he had ever met. You were the prettiest, too. The second he laid eyes on you when you served him at a local dinner in Lebanon, he knew you were something else. And the minute you flashed him a smile, he was done for. He wanted you. And good thing you wanted him too.

Dean never thought he would want to marry anyone, settling down, going to bed and waking up next to the same person for the rest of his life, he never thought he would have any of those things. But then, he fell in love with you. And much to his relief, you loved him too, exactly the way he was, hunting and all. Though that was a conversation that took weeks of processing before you were fully on board, but you moved past it. You would even, at times help them, or more like Sam, research. Hunting was a big part of who Dean was, it was his life, and you wanted to be part of it. How he was ever lucky enough to deserve someone like you he didn't know. Sometimes he wondered if he had died and had gone to heaven, you being a vision of the bliss and happiness he so desperately wanted. But no, he was alive and you were real.

So he married you.

Kids were never in the equation though. It was brought up here and there, the possibility, the fantasy, the what if, but you both figured it wasn't right. Dean thought it would be for the best, he would just ruin their life like his father ruined his and Sam's.

Until your sister gave birth to a baby girl.

Dean wasn't in the picture when your nephews had been born, they were in elementary school now. But when your sister got pregnant again, right around the time you and Dean got married, you were thrilled. You loved your nephews, and you were going to love having a niece now. You had shared your excitement with him, but he didn't see the hype. What was so exciting about a crying red-faced shit dispenser? But alas, he at least tried to share your excitement.

Until he actually saw you with the newborn in your arms.

Dean had driven you a few states over to your sister's, so you could help out with the boys while she got settled back home that weekend. He wasn't around much, he felt out of place and like he was intruding, he had only met your family a handful of times after all. But on the last night you stayed at your sister's, he found you in the nursery, the red-faced baby peacefully cradled in your arms. He was speechless. He had never seen you with a baby before. The way you held her with care and gentleness, the way you said loving words to her, the way you smiled at her. It was like his heart had stopped and he was frozen in place.

You heard the floorboards creak behind you and you turned around. You saw, Dean, standing by the door, face pale as a ghost. You raised a concerned eyebrow at him.

"You okay Dean? What are you doing just standing there?" You asked him softly, as not to disturb the almost sleeping newborn in your arms. Dean blinked twice, swallowed and nodded.

"Yeah I'm.. I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a nervous smile and half pointed at you, "I was just watching you. Not— Not watching like that, just y'know—"

"Oh jesus. Just come here, would you?" You giggled at his nervous rambling and nudged him in your direction. He looked at you with apprehension, but nodded regardless. He walked towards you and stood behind you. He was at least a head taller than you, so he could easily stand behind you and look over your shoulder. And his heart definitely stopped then.

"She's the cutest little thing isn't she?" You said to him, smiling at her as you rocked her in your arms.

Dean let out a long breath as his eyes landed on the tiny being in your arms, "Yeah she uh, she's somethin'." He met her eyes and he only smiled awkwardly. She giggled and lifted her tiny arms.

You laughed softly when she did and looked over your shoulder at him with a smile, "Baby, I think she likes you." You said to him when she kept her arms lifted and even fisted her tiny hands in his direction. "I think she wants you to hold her."

"Wha-what?"

You turned around to face him and his eyes were wide and his eyebrows were knitted into a nervous and confused expression. He was cute, sometimes he melted your heart without even trying.

"Do you know how to hold a baby?"

"Yeah but—"

"Okay then hold her. I'm right here, you'll be fine, she won't like, gauge your eyes out or anything." You reassured him, teasing him a bit. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at your comment.

"Hilarious." He rolled his eyes. He wanted to say no, but there was something about you, holding the little girl that made his stomach twist and turn. He couldn't even describe the feeling, but he knew he liked it. "Fine."

Dean tensed up the second he had the newborn in his arms. He didn't know if he was holding her too tight, if her head was supported enough, if he was holding her steady enough. He looked at you with panic for a second, but when the little girl reached out her tiny arms and her tiny fingers touched his jaw, he felt like his heart stopped. He looked down at her, his eyes finding her big ones and his face softened. And he smiled, he actually smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean couldn't take his mind off it. You with a tiny being in your arms. He thought about what it would be like to see your belly grow with his child, to see you hold a baby with his eyes and your nose. He thought about doing all the things his father never did with him. He thought about being a better father.

The entire ride back home, Dean was absent, he said very little and you knew something was on his mind. You knew he could get lost in his own head and it'd be damn near impossible to get him to talk about it. You hoped he would eventually. Though you had the feeling neither of you were in much mood to talk. It was late, Dean was probably tired from hours of driving and you were exhausted from days of babysitting, though you loved spending time with your nephews and niece, you were exhausted. So whatever was on Dean's mind, you could wait until morning to try and beat it out of him.

You were already in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness when Dean walked in the room. He had been gone a little while, probably talking to Sam about how much he hated being at your sister's. He turned the light on when he walked in, but he immediately cursed to himself when he saw you on your side of the bed, deep under the covers. You lifted your head, looking around the room a bit confused until you found him.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn't know you were in bed already." He flashed you an apologetic smile as he undressed himself, only leaving his boxers and plain black t-shirt on before he turned the light back off and joined you in bed.

"It's okay," You mumbled, happily sighing when he wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled your back to his chest. "You know I have a hard time sleeping without you anyway."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. He laid there, his nose brushing against your neck, happily taking in your scent as his fingers unconsciously rubbed circles over your flat stomach. He didn't know what the fuck was going through his head. But he just couldn't get rid of that image of you with your niece in your arms, how peaceful and happy you looked. Maybe you did want it, a family, and he was being selfish by not allowing you to have that because of his insecurities and past trauma. It terrified him, the idea of messing up like his father did, the idea of being just like his father.

But maybe, maybe he was a better man than John Winchester. Maybe with such a sweet and gentle wife by his side, he had grown softer. He could be better.

"Hey baby," He mumbled against your neck. You half opened your eyes, not quite asleep yet and you hummed at him, letting him know you were listening. "Are you still on the pill?"

You opened your eyes fully at his question. Confused, you rolled over on your back and looked at him, "Uh yeah, why?"

"Have you thought about, you know, not taking it anymore?" He asked, clearing his throat a bit as his fingers stilled their patterns on your stomach. You looked at him even more confused.

"Unless you want to try abstinence, or you're missing wearing a condom, no, I haven't thought about it." You answered with furrowed brows as you looked at him in the darkness, trying to read his face. "Dean, why are you asking me this?"

"Do you want kids?" He blurted out, not being able to control his rambling thoughts. He could've been more subtle. He sighed and continued, "I mean, would you ever want to have kids.. With me?"

"I uh.. I mean, yeah at some point I thought about us having kids but," You paused, running your fingers up his arm reassuringly, sensing he was on edge and nervous. "I thought you didn't want kids."

"I didn't. Not before," He sighed, his hand sneaking under your shirt to lay on your flat stomach, his wedding band feeling cold on your skin. "I honestly thought I'd be a shitty dad. I'm all kinds of fucked up. My life is a mess and I thought I'd be cruel to bring a kid into this life, raise 'em the way I was raised."

"Dean, you're not fucked up, your life isn't exactly normal but, that doesn't mean your life is a mess. You're an amazing husband, I'm happy to be living the life I'm living with you. And you already are a good dad," You told him, your hand coming to run through his short hair. He frowned at you, like he didn't know what you meant, so you continued. "Who do you think raised Sam? Who do you think raised him to be the good man that he is? You did, you took care of him when you were just a kid, you taught him everything he knows, and he turned out well didn't he? You're a good man Dean, wouldn't that make you a good dad?"

"God I love you." He sighed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he leaned down, capturing your lips into a kiss.

His hand lingered on your stomach, blunt nails scratching the skin even so slightly as his mouth covered yours. His lips were soft at first, but when he shifted so that he was hovering above you, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking as much as he could until you were pulling back for air. In the process, his hand had lingered further down your stomach, until his hand was slipping into your sleeping shorts. You gasped softly, feeling his middle finger brush over your clit.

"You know it's probably not gonna work if we try tonight, right?" You asked, your voice breaking when you felt one of his fingers rub small circles on your clit.

"No, I know. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of practice." His pink lips twisted into a small smirk as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip before he dived into your neck.

His lips ravished your pressure point, sucking and slightly digging his teeth until he felt a pool of wetness coat his fingers. His lips curved upwards and he moved downwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses until he found the hem of your shorts. He pulled back, pulling his hand with him. You squirmed slightly under him, face warm when his green eyes found yours just as he pulled your shorts down your legs. He shot you a wink before his face was between your legs. You gasped softly when you felt his warm breath fan against your core, but he pressed his lips to your inner thigh instead and squeezed the other between his fingers.

“Dean,” You exhaled heavily, trying to fight the urge to just push his head where you wanted him. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes and his lips were curved into an equally playful smirk.

“Yeah I know baby.” He started to move up, hearing the urgency in your voice. He pressed his lips to your hip bone and trailed up. Though his lips lingered particularly long when he found your stomach, the idea of your belly growing with his child making his cock strain against his boxers.

Your fingers found his short hair and you pulled him up, crashing your lips against his with fervor. He settled between your parted thighs, you could already feel him against you, he wanted this as much as you did, hell maybe more. He pulled his shirt over his head before he kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and he tugged his boxers down his hips, his cock springing against his stomach. He held himself up on his forearm as he guided himself to your entrance. He groaned how wet you were, your slick walls taking him with ease.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath as he looked between you, watching himself disappeaar into your walls.

Dean didn’t waste much time. His hips found a pace, and he found it quick. It was hard and it was deep. He made sure you felt every thrust he gave you, every time he drew his hips back only to slam back in. But he wasn’t just fucking you, no. He was making love to you. He had a reason to. And fuck did he have a reason. He was fucking with you with purpose. And now that you were feeling it too, you were just as insatiable as he was. At some point, you weren't even quite sure when, Dean slipped your sleeping shirt off, which really was just one of his old t-shirts. For some reason, that habit of yours only got him off. The idea of you, his pretty wife, in his clothes. Fuck he often wondered when he ever got so lucky or if he even deserved it.

He pulled back a little, jaw slightly hanging open as he ran a hand over your breast, kneading one between his fingers. And then he was leaning down. His mouth found one of your breasts, the nipple already hard as a rock, and he suckled, giving the bud attention until it was red and puffy. And then he switched to the other. They would get bigger and plump with substance for his child, he thought. And maybe you realized that too, because as your body arched under his, your hand came up to cup his head, fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck, Dean please, please don’t stop.” You trembled, your voice breaking as a broken moan left your lips. He could hear the desperation in your voice, that aching need for release, he knew you better than he knew himself.

“Come on, let me see it, let me see you fall apart,” He coaxed as he pulled back, hiking one of your legs high on his torso. He buried himself so deep it made your eyes roll into the back of your head when he brushed over your most sensitive spot. And he did it, again, and again. Until you were crying out. But what really sent you over the edge was his thumb brushing over your clit. He rubbed quick circles over the sensitive bud until your walls gripped him so tight it made his eye roll back. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my girl.”

He held you as you trembled, his hips slightly faltering and his thrusts became a bit erratic as he chased his own release.

“Gonna fill you up,” He groaned in your ear, your juices allowing him to bury himself just a fraction into you. You held him, arms thrown over his neck and his name leaving your lips like a faint praise. Though you were still a bit hazy, you felt him press a hand to your stomach, cold wedding band sending slight chills down your spine. “Right here.”

You were trembling under his, thoughts barely coherent, but you breathed out, “Yes, please.”

Your lips found his jaw and your fingers pulled his hair so hard it made him groan. And suddenly he was still, buried deep inside you as pleasure overtook him. He spilled himself inside you with a groan, the muscles in his back tensing as his head fell over your neck. He sat still inside you, his pants and your own mixing in the air. He had come inside you many times before, hell, he didn’t remember the last time he didn’t, but fuck, this felt different. It felt so goddamn right, the idea of what this meant of it felt right.

Dean moved eventually, probably when his arm got tired of holding his weight. He pressed a wet kiss to your lips before he slipped out of you, the loss of him making you hiss softly when you felt your mixed juices drip down your thigh. Though you expected him to lay down beside you but he moved down instead, and you gasped in surprise when you felt his lips on your stomach. And he pressed his forehead against your belly, his ringed hand rubbing your side gently. You felt him sigh, and you heard him mutter something you couldn’t quite make out. He kissed your belly again, for a bit longer before he was on feet, telling you he would be right back as he tugged his boxers back on.

You were too tired to question him, you were fucked out and sleepy, so you simply nodded. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until you heard Dean say your name and you felt his hand on your face. You opened your eyes, squinting slightly as you looked at him. He had a wet rag on his hand, so you let him clean you up. He was silent the whole time, not a single sound came from him. And his expression was unreadable. You sometimes wished you could see what was on his man's mind. Even after being married and him opening up to you about a lot of things, the man was still impenetrable.

He found his spot beside you eventually, the room dark as you settled on his chest. He threw an arm around you and held you while his other arm was behind his head. You shifted, head tilted back and you brought a hand to his face, palm flat on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed.

“You’re a good man Dean.” You said softly, catching the adoring look in his eyes, even in the darkest they were still bright. “And you’re a good husband, and there’s no one else I would rather have kids with some day.”

A smile tugged at his lips, “Some day? That means we gotta keep tryin’ right?”

You could hear the insinuation in his tone, and you could see the suggestive smile on his lips, even in the darkness, “Yes, yes we do.”

“Awesome.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester x female!reader

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deancaspinefest · 3 months

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Take The Long Way Home

Author: sidewinder | Artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)

Posting on Monday April 15

Two months ago, the world didn’t end. But for Dean Winchester, who fully expected to sacrifice not just his life but his very soul in order to stop Amara? The celebration has been clouded by the disappearance of his best friend, Cas—the friend he’d started to realize meant more to him than he’d been willing to accept until now. The last anyone’s seen of Castiel was when he was banished from the bunker by Toni Bevell. The Brits swear they don’t have him. Neither Heaven nor Hell claim to know of his whereabouts. All of Dean’s calls, texts and prayers to the angel have gone unanswered, and Dean can’t help but worry that a "Winchester win" has once again come at a terrible price. One day hope finally arrives in a lead from an unexpected if not always trustworthy ally. However finding Cas might end up being only the first step in saving him—not simply from the forces holding him captive, but from the prison of his own mind.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

As Dean approached the galley, he saw the light on there already, meaning he wasn’t the only early bird up and about today. His mood brightened with a momentary spark of hope—Cas rarely slept, and when he was around the bunker, he usually enjoyed hanging around in the kitchen to read or watch cat videos and shit all night on one of their laptops. But Dean’s bubble of hope burst when he saw it was just his brother, sitting there in his sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, chugging a disgusting-looking green smoothie. Sam was no doubt ready to head out on his morning self-imposed torture session—that is, a five-mile run looping around the bunker to Lebanon and back.

Kid seriously had to be the devil’s vessel if he found that kind of physical torment enjoyable.

“Hey,” Dean grunted at his brother.

Sam looked up from his laptop at Dean and nodded. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“You too. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Rarely do.”

Yeah, that was something they had in common. “Anything up?” Dean asked on his way to fill the coffeepot with water.

“Not really. Just restless, I guess. I found a case, maybe. Not that I was looking for one,” Sam added quickly. “But while I was searching for any signs of Cas, or Lucifer, I came across a news story about some strange deaths in Wichita. It’s not far from here, and—”

“If you wanna go hunt whatever it is, go for it,” Dean cut him off. “Take mom. I know she’s itching to get out of here and do somethin’ other than stare at our ugly mugs all day.”

“Dean—”

“No, Sam. I mean it. Until I know where Cas is, I just can’t. My head’s not in the game.” A distracted hunter was a dead hunter. That was the rule their father had drilled into them as soon as they each could carry a weapon, and learn about the things that went bump in the night being real. A week ago, Dean had let Sam talk him into going on a “milk run” hunt to clear out a small vampire nest near Toledo and he’d nearly lost his neck thanks to not fully concentrating on the job at hand.

“Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?” Dean snapped. “Cas has been missing for two months, Sam! We have no idea where he is, if he even—”

Dean cut himself off. He couldn’t say it. Not out loud.

If he even survived.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 15)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: sidewinder #artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)#canon divergent #hurt!Cas #alternate season 12

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queermania · 10 months

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I need someone to explain to me what the value of the Chuck Won theory is. Why would you want the ending to be worse?

i can't speak for anyone else but the reason EYE like it is because, for me, it actually makes the ending less bleak. if i take the finale as is—if i accept that chuck lost—it means that jack really did become god, that dean didn't look for a way to rescue cas, that dean died young and suicidal, that sam spent the rest of his life obsessed with his dead brother, that none of the family they found and they built and they fought for mattered, that cas was just resurrected off-screen and decided to never speak to the brothers again i guess? and if you don't take The Winchesters into account, it means that dean got to heaven, found out cas was still alive, and immediately decided to drive for like forty years just waiting for sam who he literally just saw. and that's it. that's all there is. how is that not the bleakest fucking tragedy ever?

but, if i assume that chuck won, it means the story isn't actually over. it means they're not done.

i know this is an unpopular opinion because people hate the idea of dean being sad but uhhhhhhhh to me dean dying in the finale is him giving up because he doesn't want to fucking do it anymore. he doesn't want to live without cas. and while that's wildly depressing, it is in-line with the dean i know. because the dean in the finale is either an imposter or a shell of a person who has neither purpose nor hope anymore.

but, if chuck won, the reason it seems like everything sucks is because it does suck. and that means there's still hope! they can beat chuck without losing every single other thing that matters. they can have jack back. they can rescue cas. they can keep their family. they have a shot at actually living.

i guess what i'm trying to say is that the reason Chuck Won truthing is so appealing to me is that it means the story isn't finished. dean is going to get the gay happily ever after he deserves. jack is going to get to go fishing with his dads. cas is going to hear that someone loves him. sam is going to get pegged. and eileen is going to fucking matter gdi

#replies #anonymous #finale #chuck won truthing

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apocalypseornaw · 5 months

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Love You Better (Pt 4/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean finally sees what him pulling away has done to you.

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex?

A/N : next part is the finale and nothing but smut and fluff. Just FYI

You'd already talked to Sam and to Charlie, whatever was going on with Dean wasn't anything to do with the poison from the Djinn. With no other option you decided to call Jax.

You were in the library, your feet pulled under you in a chair as you talked to him on the phone. "Did anything else happen? He's still acting off and it's worrying me. If something happens to him...I don't know what I'd do Jax" "Nothing besides the Djinn, what's going on if you don't mind me asking?" You let out a breath unsure if you should be talking to your ex about your relationship problems. "He's just not acting like Dean should"

Jax as always seemed to know when to stop pushing because he simply said "Y/N, you love Dean don't you?" You closed your eyes because Dean didn't even know that yet and you didn't want to admit it to Jax. At your silence he chuckled "The way you look at him is your tell honey" you laughed lightly "Ok so you already know the answer to the question so why ask it?"

He tsk tsked then said "Easy killer. I'm just saying I've known you for years. You love Dean and from the way he looks at you he loves you. Do what you do best, dig your heels in and fight. Tell him how you feel and maybe then when your cards are out and on the table he'll let you in about whatever he's dealing with" you laughed more from shock of Jax saying something so deep than anything before asking "When did you get so smart" you could hear the grin in his voice before he said "Oh come on now we all have our moments"

He had to go after that because Alicia and Max got to his place so he had to help them. You sat staring at the phone, trying to form a gameplan on how to talk to Dean.

Dean stood under the hot water feeling it beat his sore muscles into submission. Every inch of his body was tense. He wasn't sleeping well and days weren't better. A flash of the sounds you made with Jax went through his mind but this time it was replaced by an image you under him instead. He could nearly feel your fingernails cutting into his shoulders, hear you moan his name.

What was he doing letting some Djinn dream come between you? Yeah he was worried that maybe you'd end up deciding you wanted more than him, that you'd tuck tail and run but he was also taking that choice away from you by not talking to you.

He may not have the business like Jax or the house or even halfway mental stability but he loved you. With every ounce of his being he fucking loved you. He'd fight heaven and hell to earn you another day living. He knew every inch of your body better than any other man you'd ever been with. He knew how to make you fall apart time and again, how to bring you higher than any other lover ever had. You were his dammit and if he lost you it wouldn't be because he hadn't tried to keep you.

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

Once he was dried he just slipped on boxers and sleep pants before going in search of you. Enough was enough he could concentrate on the real world, who's name you were really moaning and who you were really underneath. He could show you that he could love you better and he could prove it.

When he got to your shared bedroom he expected to find you waiting on him, maybe reading or listening to music but when he opened the door instead he found the room empty. Shit.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Where were you? You'd said you were going to bed. He knew your favorites rooms were the library, the TV room or the shooting range. Your gun was on the dresser and your favorite blanket was on the bed so that marked off the TV room or the shooting range. Library it was.

When he started to walk past the kitchen he saw the light was on so he stopped wondering if it was you or Sam then he heard a sound that shattered his heart, you sniffling. He eased to the door and found you sitting at the table, your favorite mug that had little black cats all over it in front of you.

You were staring blankly into the cup and apparently hadn't heard him come in. God, had he done this? Had he gotten so lost in his own head he hadn't realized what it was going to you? "Sweetheart?"

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

You'd been laying in bed, thinking about how to start the conversation with Dean but no matter how it went in your head that little voice always managed to interfere. The little voice that said "Lisa never made him doubt his feelings" "He's never had no problems fucking one night stands" "Dean's a man who knows what he wants and apparently that's not you"

When tears threatened to come you threw the blankets off and quickly left the room. Your feet found you in the kitchen in front of the cabinet that held the bourbon. You knew that wasn't a good idea so instead you went for some tea Alicia had sent you. It was supposed to help you calm down.

----------

You'd tried to fight off the what ifs the entire time you made the cup but once you sat down at the table they all came crashing down. This wasn't like you, you didn't cry easy but this distance with Dean? It was slowly ripping your heart out. You'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about Dean.

You saw tears hit the surface of the tea and hadn't even realized you were crying yet. You sniffled, trying to remain as quiet as possible in case Sam got up. You hadn't heard anyone in the hall so when Dean's voice hit your ears you jumped hard enough you nearly spilled the tea "Dean?"

----------

Dean walked over to the table, standing about a foot from you so you turned to look up at him "What's wrong Y/N?" You let out a watery laugh as more tears started to fall "You tell me Dean. What is wrong? I've tried now for two weeks to get you to talk to me, to kiss me, to touch me but I keep getting turned down. I love you and I don't even feel like that's enough"

His heart flipped hearing those words come from you. You loved him? Your eyes were cast downward refusing to meet his "I've never felt like this for someone Dean" he crossed the space between you kneeling in front of where you sat. He reached out to touch your face gently, tilting it up so you had to meet his eyes. He used his thumb to wipe the tears away "Y/N..." he trailed off at the look in your eyes. Every word he had was swallowed by the overwhelming urge to kiss you, to show you just how much he craved you, needed you.

---------

The moment his lips met yours you melted against him. A small sob escaped you and he swallowed it hungrily as your hands slid up around his neck, fingers tangling in the short hair there. One hand was at your neck holding your head in place while the other found your hip pulling you almost off the chair and into his lap, when you pulled away to catch your breath he moved to your neck kissing every inch of flesh his mouth could find "I love you" he spoke against your skin repeating it like a prayer.

You pulled back to look at him and god that look, he'd do anything you asked of him as long as you looked at him like that. "You do?" You asked and the uncertainty in your voice hurt him to his core. He nodded pulling you back into another kiss before saying "We'll talk later but for now please sweetheart let me make it up to you, let me show you just how much I want you. Please"

You couldn't help the whimper that escaped you. Dean Winchester was on his knees telling you that he loved you and begging you to let him show you just how much. "Take me to our room Dean" was all it took and he was pulling you to your feet, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that made your head swim and heat flood between your thighs. Fuck, you'd missed him.

@marimarvelfan @suckitands33 @sushiumex @janineb86 @nix-rose @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @holdingontil-may @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 @stillhere197 @cat-loves-music @marvelfanfn2187a113 @that1nerd-20 @foxyjwls007 @5tud10-54r4h @tas898

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #love you better mini series

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jackles010378 · 3 months

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An Unthinkable Choice....

(Dean Winchester X you)

(Mentions of death and funeral)

Dean can't decide between saving you or Sammy, so you make the decision for him.....

When Dean found himself in the impossible situation of having to choose between saving you or his beloved brother Sammy, the weight of the decision was palpable. The bond between brothers ran deep, and Dean couldn't imagine a world without either of you.

As the anguished expression crossed Dean's face, you could see the hesitation in his eyes. The inner turmoil tore at his heart, tearing apart the very fabric of his being. Every instinct told him that he had to save both of you, but reality had dealt a cruel hand, demanding that he make an unthinkable choice.

It was at that moment that you stepped forward, your resolve shining through the fear in your eyes. You knew what had to be done. Without a moment's hesitation, you sacrificed yourself, throwing your body in the path of the impending danger. Dean's cries of protest were drowned out by the roar of the oncoming threat. Time seemed to stand still as your selfless act unfolded.

In that split second, everything changed. The world seemed to dim as your life force faded away, leaving Dean devastated and desperate to reach your side. He cradled your motionless body, his trembling hands brushing strands of hair from your face. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered words of regret mixed with love and gratitude. Sammy ran over to be by your side, trying to console his brother. He knew how much Dean loved you.

"You silly, brave idiot," Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Why did you have to do that? We could have found another way. I can't lose you... not like this." Dean picked you up, carrying you out to the impala. Laying you gently on the back seat. No words were spoken as he and Sammy drove back to the bunker, both of them looking back at your lifeless body every now and then.

When they got back to the bunker Sammy went to help Dean get you out of the car "don't touch her" he snapped at his brother. He didn't mean to shout at Sam, he knew he must of felt somewhat guilty about you dying. But Dean didn't blame him. As Sam made his way down the bunker steps, Dean followed behind with you in his arms. He laid you on the bed you had shared together. Brushing the hair out of your face, he placed your hands over your heart. He didn't want to believe you had gone, but he knew. Deep down inside he knew. He didn't want to leave you on your own, so he lay by your side. Sam knocked on the door to tell him he had phoned Jody and Bobby and that they were on their way. Dean didn't budge, he just lay there staring at you.

As your funeral was prepared, hunters from all corners of the country gathered to pay their respects. The air was heavy with grief and admiration for your sacrifice. Dean couldn't bring himself to speak, his pain silenced by the weight of his loss. But his presence spoke volumes, his steadfast devotion evident to all.

The hunters knew that this was not an ordinary funeral. It would be a ceremony befitting of a true hero. Dean worked tirelessly, constructing a pyre from seasoned timber. He wouldn't let anyone help, he wanted it to be perfect, it was for you after all. His love.

At the appointed time, Dean stepped forward to light the pyre, his hands trembling with a mixture of sorrow, love, and gratitude. The flames leapt to life, consuming the wood and transforming it into a blaze that reached for the heavens. As the fire crackled and roared, a bittersweet peace settled over the gathering.

The hunters didn't mourn your loss in silence. Instead, they shared stories of your bravery, your wit, and your unwavering dedication to the fight against evil. They spoke of your laughter, the sound of which could bring hope even in the darkest of times. And as the tales unfolded, the weight of grief and loss was lifted, replaced by a celebration of your extraordinary life.

Dean, though still broken, found solace in this bittersweet ceremony. He knew that your sacrifice would never be forgotten, that your memory would live on in the hearts of those whose lives you had touched. And as he looked to the sky, he whispered a promise to you, his voice carried by the wind.

"I won't let your sacrifice be in vain," Dean vowed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll keep fighting. I'll keep Sammy safe. And I'll make sure that your spirit lives on."

In the end, it was not just a hunter's funeral but a testament to the power of sacrifice, love, and the unbreakable bond that held you all together. As the flames continued to burn, lighting up the night with their fiery glow, Dean stood strong, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Your sacrifice had given him the strength to carry on, to fight for a world where love conquered darkness and heroes were never forgotten.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #deanwinchtser #soldier boy #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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ro-sham-no · 1 month

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Sam dies again, shortly after being resurrected by Dean’s crossroad demon deal. It was an accident, just a hazard of the job. Dean couldn’t stop it.

Dean goes crazy after it happens. He has no more soul left to bargain with. He goes numb.

He couldn’t care less about his inevitable, one-way trip to Hell, the moot deal that it now is. Nothing could be worse than this wretched hopelessness, the gnawing blackness that grows inside him with every passing moment. His thoughts plague him,

Is Sam even in heaven? After all the demons’ taunts about him coming back Wrong- had Dean doomed him, his baby brother, his son, his boy, to Hell?

Sammy's gone, and Dean’s soul is still sold, and it's so unfair-

Dean’s kept Sam’s corpse- Sam, he’s kept Sam, again. Has laid him out on a shitty, stained mattress. Again. He’s also laid out every single fireable weapon in their considerable arsenal next to Sam on the bed, all loaded. Every second that goes by, the itch to grab them gets stronger.

He’s out of options. Trying another crossroads demon had done nothing. Frantic, useless researching about resurrection, which he’d already done the first time - nothing. Praying to god, for the first time ever, saying please, please, I know I’m fresh out of any sort of Grace, but surely you can see that He’s not. Sammy doesn’t deserve to be in Hell, please-

Nothing.

The guns on the mattress glare at him. All gleaming, metallic resilience, taunting him, sitting so starkly cold next to Dean’s dead baby brother. Dean’s hands haven’t given up their tell-tale tremor since it happened. Since Sam---

The tremor is one that he’s felt on and off throughout the years - only appearing on those not-so-rare occasions where Sam had taken hits just hard enough, gotten cuts just deep enough that Dean would have the Thought strike through him like lightning,

Sam might not come back from this one.

The end of Dean’s sleeve is soaked as it covers his trembling hand, what is probably snot and spit mixing in with more and more tears as he alternates between pitiful comforts. Wedging his shaking hands deep into the sockets of his eyes as he convulses through his sobs and cries, then shifting them to press tensely against his teeth through his lips, trying in vain to calm down and keep quiet, and then moving to his nose to wipe away the aftermath and start all over again.

Sam’s not coming back from this one.

I failed.

It’s over.

Dean abruptly stands, shoving and tearing the guns away, violently shoving his sleeve to his face to dry it, having to move up higher on his arm each time as his sleeves caught more of his heart leaking out of his eyes, nose, and mouth. He lets all but Sam’s beloved Taurus recklessly fall to the floor.

His stupid, beloved Taurus that the kid’d saved up enough money to buy for himself - all honest-earned money, after getting a grocery store job he applied for the second he turned 14. Cheap-ass Brazilian gun, Dad had called it with derision, but he’d let Sam buy it all the same.

Dean had thought, at the time, that Sam’s choice of gun was just because it was, in fact, affordable and non-American (Sam was never shy about his lack of patriotism, even when Dad gave him all the more hell for it). But he hadn’t caught Sam slipping away to pawn shops and military resale stores while Dad was away and Dean worked dead-end odd jobs to pay the bills like civilians for a while. But then Sam had found it, them, and then Dean had certainly noticed.

See, when Sam had first gotten the thing, it came with practical black grips. Factory standard, since Sam had wanted it new - forever a priss about owning something that wasn’t secondhand. But then, unbeknownst to Dean, Sam had searched high and low to find what he wanted, what he knew existed because he had seen it in a gun magazine once (he had frantically torn out the page as soon as he saw it, hidden in the back of the gas station and waiting for Dean to stop flirting with the cashier). So, Sam had saved up and played the long game, pawn shop after pawn shop, and it paid off.

He’d replaced the black grips - not speaking a peep to either Dean or Dad about it - with pearl ones. And sure, it wasn’t ivory, necessarily, and the stainless steel of the Taurus wasn’t exactly nickel-plated, but the effect was the same.

Sam’s very first gun of his own, which he bought with his own, labor-earned cash, oh-so-clearly fashioned after Dean’s.

And now here it is, cradled against Dean’s chest. He’d crawled into bed with Sam at some point during his weepy recollection, resting his head on Sam’s chest in oppositional mimicry of how they would lay together as kids. Sam, curled up under Dean’s chin, forever trying to make himself smaller in Dean’s arms even as he grew bigger.

But it’s Dean’s turn to be small. Dean’s turn, as he tugs Sam’s (cold, lifeless) arm over his back in a weak embrace, slipping his arm around Sam as best he can, squeezing and holding tight as he shakes apart. Sam’s Taurus is gripped surely in Dean’s hand, pressed under his chin.

His Colt, after which the Taurus had been so lovingly, painstakingly fashioned, lies discarded on the ground.

#(#gencest #samdean #devotion #codependency #dean winchester #dean whump #ro writing tag #)

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michaeliad · 8 months

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Adam Milligan should’ve been the final boss of Supernatural. Betrayed by everyone, furious and revenge-driven, just out from Hell, knowing that his brothers had tried to release him only once (and even then he wasn’t the first choice). The Winchesters had an ex-angel and a powerless nephilim on their side, but Adam had the first Archangel, the Prince of Heaven, completely in love with him and willing to do whatever Adam would want to. Only one thought — nothing more, they don’t need words after all those years spent together — and Sam and Dean would be gone from the face of the Earth. Adam had all the hate, rage, motives and all means to do that. Of course, the main characters always win, they would’ve found a way to defeat him, lock him up for another thousand years, but at least he would’ve done something. Some kind of revenge. Nobody escapes Hell’s most terrifying prison, a place so terrible that demons thought it was only a legend, looking like they are happy with their life, asking only for an apology from those who abandoned them. Lucifer wasn’t always a monster. The Cage turned an Archangel into the Devil. What would it in fact do to a weak human soul?

#long post #midam #adam milligan #supernatural #michael spn #adam is in his reputation era #i support adam milligan’s rights #but what’s more important i support adam milligan’s wrongs #it’s six in the morning and i have a fever

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narrynukezankielover · 10 days

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I believe this episode is Hunteri Heroici or something like that. I laughed at this a little too much. Cas literally took that little bag out of Deans bigger bag (I don’t know what to call it) and started picking through it. What I find interesting is that Dean doesn’t say anything to Cas. Dean isn’t the type to let people pick at his stuff yet he’s letting Cas do it. I was thinking maybe it’s Sams bag but I don’t think Cas would touch Sams stuff. I don’t think he cares enough to find out more about him.

Dean said he needed his 4 hours of sleep (you can function on only 4 hours of sleep I’ve done it almost every night since I was 15 and when you’re used to it it’s not that bad) and Cas said I’ll watch over you. He’s looking directly at Dean so he’s offering to be Deans guardian angel not Dean and Sams. It’s adorable because a few people have called Cas Deans angel and it’s obvious Dean is Cas human.

If anyone else was looking at their dad’s journal Dean would’ve grabbed that out of their hands told them to f*ck themselves and probably threatened to kill them. It’s a very cute way to start this very emotional scene. I love that when Cas yelled at Dean because he told him he wasn’t going back to heaven Dean took that to mean Cas needed to talk. Dean isn’t good with his emotions but the fact that he listened to Cas and tried to help him shows growth. The look of shock and worry on Deans face when Cas said he was afraid if he went back to heaven and seen what has happened because of him he’s afraid he would kill himself was heartbreaking.

I just found this look on Cas face when he seen Dean trying to hide his porn hilarious. Cas watched porn infront of Dean and Sam so I don’t think Cas would judge him.

This is definitely the look of oh hell ya by boyfriend can get anything.

This broke my heart. Finding out Cas was tortured and he’s traumatized by it was heartbreaking. How can anyone do that to that adorable angel.

I really wish Dean felt comfortable to be himself. He’s clearly a nerd. He wanted to LARP when him and Sam were looking at it online. He had a smile on his face until he thought Sam was looking at him then he went back to his normal face. He loved it when they actually did it, he wouldn’t let Sam see him playing with a sword, he likes ballet and pop music. He’s so scared of Sam laughing at him or making fun of him that he won’t be himself.

In LARP And The Real Girl Charlie asked Dean if he broke up with someone. Interesting she used the word someone not a girl which is what you would say to a straight guy. She obviously could tell Dean was thinking about someone. Personally I think he was thinking about Cas and Benny. Cas because Dean knows there’s something wrong with Cas he just doesn’t know what and Benny because of how he told him they couldn’t talk anymore. I know some people see Dean and Benny as more then friends thing but I personally see them as just friends. Dean likes having someone else in his life other than Sam. Normally it’s Cas but when Cas was still in purgatory Dean liked talking to Benny but once Cas was back he didn’t need to talk to Benny as much.

Yet again a gay moment happens to Dean. Aaron could’ve come up with any excuse for following Dean. He even could’ve said he was trying to get someone elses attention but he clearly sensed the best option was to pretend to flirt with Dean. Dean got flustered and banged into a table and then when he found out the flirting was fake he was disappointed.

#castiel #cockles #dean x castiel #destiel #deancas

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kazuiislazy · 1 year

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"Oblivious or Obvious?"

A/N: AGAIN NOTHING MUCH BUT ONLY SWEARING!! Thanks for the likes on the Dean W. fic <33

Pairing: Castiel x reader

At first, it was just adoration. The blue-eyed angel that was serious yet caring, the angel that was always there for your brothers and you. Slowly, that adoration turned into something else. The way your breath hitched when he was close to you, the way a light blush would cover your cheeks when he was around.

But you knew nothing could ever happen between you two since he was an angel after all. Angels aren’t exactly known for having feelings, so you could only dream. Your brothers, Sam and Dean knew about your “little” crush on the certain angel and have been teasing you non-stop since they had found out.

“I can’t believe that Cas hasn’t found out yet with how obvious you are.” your eldest brother laughed. “SHUT UP, DEAN.” you yelled, your cheeks were hot.

“Cas is always oblivious to everything, Dean. I don’t think he’ll ever know… unless.” Sam winked at you. “Oh- don’t you dare say anything about this to Cas or I will-” you got cut off as you laid eyes on the angel standing at the doorway.

“Don’t tell me what?” Castiel perked, tilting his head to the side like he always does. And you hated it, well, not really except for the fucking fact he looked fucking adorable when he did it.

“So, Cassie. Our sister here-” Dean dragged. Castiel raised an eyebrow at the nickname.

“IT’S NOTHING!” you screamed, the blush spreading on your cheeks like it always did when Cas was around. “It’s… nothing.”

Glaring daggers at your older brothers, you mouthed, “Shut the fuck up of I swear to heaven and hell I will absolutely rip you to shreds.” If looks could kill, you’re sure they would be dead by now. They just chuckled. You looked over to Cas, looking more confused than he already was, his head still tilted. “Don’t worry about it, Cas. It’s nothing..” you sighed.

He walked towards you. Oh. He was walking towards you. SHIT, HE WAS WALKING TOWARDS YOU?? You panicked “slightly” as he took long and slow strides towards you. He looked down at you, confusion flooding his eyes as you slowly shifted uncomfortably. He wanted answers. You looked down, you didn’t want to look up- you were embarrassed to.

“Ah, uhm.. I-” you spurt out words. Your brothers only laughed harder. They are so dead. “Cas. It’s nothing, I can assure that.” your head tilted up but you still wasn’t looking at him- not like you really could. You put your hands on his shoulder before squeezing it and rushing back to your room to deal with the embarrassment.

You slammed the door shut. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your breathing was heavy. You breathed in and out slowly trying to calm yourself down. How will I be able to face him again? “Of course out of all things I have to fall in love with it would be a fucking angel.” you muttered angrily. “With his stupid trench coat.” you sighed.

What you didn’t know was that very angel you were talking about was waiting outside your door, ready to knock. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. You loved him? He was shocked and baffled. He hesitated knocking on the door. Castiel didn’t know how to react.

Cas took time to recollect his thoughts and courage before finally knocking on your door. “(Y/N)? May I come in please?” he asked politely. The angel could hear sniffling from the other side of the door. Had you been crying?

“Y–yeah. You can come in.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. He took a deep inhale before opening the door. You were curled up in a corner, sniffling sounds still escaping from you, and your hair was in a mess. The angel felt bad.

He trudged towards you before curling up next to you and slinging an arm over your shoulder. “I heard what you said about me. That you.. loved me. I didn’t mean to, but I think it would be better if I told you.” he whispered in your ear, before ruffling with your hair. “And before you say anything, I want to say that–” he paused, “in the space, the pause, between this breath and the one that follows, you have made a home in me.”

Your head perked up hearing those words, not like you really knew that it meant. “You think so?” you looked up at him, nervously chuckling with your still red and puffy eyes.

“I know so. I know that I love you with my entire being, and all of my grace."He never thought the day would dawn that he would say things like this, but there he was. Proposing his love, grace and his being all to one person, you.

You pressed a short kiss to his lips, then his cheek. Both of your faces now turning pink. “I love you with all of my being too, Cas. I have, for a long time.” you smiled.

“And so have I.”

#supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #misha collins x reader #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel fic

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gococogo · 2 months

Text

♡ Destiel Valentine's Day Special ♡

Synopsis: Castiel has never celebrated Valentine's Day and so he wishes to do so with Dean. He wishes to show Dean how much he loves him and from the YouTube tutorials he's watched, things seem to work

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Warnings: Childhood trauma/anal/biting/marking

Notes: @ja3hwa helped me a shit ton on this fic. I couldn't have finished it without her ehhe. But I did it, it is here on time and I'm quite happy with it. I wish I had more time, but eh, what are you going to do? Sue me!?

Flowers had just been the beginning of it all. He had found them by his bed side when he woke up. Being very confused and still very tired, he went to seek out anyone in the bunker for an answer.

Then it had turned into petals down every single corridor in the bunker. That had Sam laughing up a lung when all Dean could do was look around confused in the main foyer. Everywhere was covered in red rose petals. On the chairs, on the table, on the bookshelves. It was like some cupid had come around and vomited up petals.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Dean had asked with his face scrunched up with one of those looks.

Sam had only shrugged and said, “Maybe.”

Then, he had walked away with a shit eating grin on his face that had Dean boiling with anger. With that, the discission to go back to his room was adamant. He wanted to change and get dressed for the day. But, he found something else.

Castiel, an angel of the lord and a warrior for heaven, throws unwrapped chocolates onto Dean’s bed.

For a moment, the hunter can only stand there and watch the angel grab a handful of chocolates from a larger than life box -most likely from Costco with Sam’s membership if his brother is in on this- before throwing them onto the bed like he’s throwing a frisbee. The sight is… it’s a sight.

Dean clears his throat and Cas whips around with wide blue eyes. If the angel had any feathers, Dean can take a guess that they would be ruffled.

“Was that you with all…” Dean waves his hand as if shooing a fly, “that out there?”

“Do you like it?” Is the reply he gets from the angel as he takes a step away from the bed.

Dean can only stare, his gaze flicking to the chocolates on his bed to the angel with his brows raised waiting for an answer. He clutches the large box to his chest, almost like holding a child it’s that big. But Dean doesn’t know what to say. Like, yeah he likes it but… this has never happened to him before.

“I uhh-“

Cas’s brows furrow before he crosses the room to Dean, throwing the box of chocolates beside the bed.

“You do know it’s Valentine’s Day today, right?” Cas asks.

Valentine’s Day!? It’s February already!? Dean tries to hide his panic but it’s clear on his face. Where in hell did January go!? They’ve been on so many hunts lately that they nearly missed New Years! And now Valentine’s Day!? This year was going by quicker than he thought.

He tries to play it off with a smirk and a gruff, “Of course I knew!”

But the angel doesn’t look impressed.

He raises a hand to cup Dean’s cheek who flinches slightly at the touch. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Cas, but he makes no comment of it.

“It’s alright if you forgot,” Cas says softly.

Dean chortles at this as he softly takes the angel’s hand off of his face. But he doesn’t let go of it, holding onto it between them.

“That’s not the point,” Dean murmurs.

Cas raises a brow with a tilt of his head, urging the hunter to go on. This leads to Dean letting out a staggered sigh. He didn’t really know the point himself, nor why he constantly acts so recoiled with Cas’s affection at times. He did love the angel, but the image of his father would come creeping in his mind at times. And it always left a distaste in his mouth.

Why couldn’t he just love the angel they way Cas wanted, the way he needed.

“I’m just…” The hunter huffs, rubbing his scruffy chin, then his eyes. Before pinching his nose with another huff. Cas could see Dean turn on himself, something he did a lot. He’s self-destructive.

“Dean. It’s okay.” Cas can’t recall a moment he didn’t say this to his lover.

It’s okay. Two simple words that humans use to reassure one another. Normally it’s always hollow and more of a silent lie, but Cas had never meant it as such. It’s okay meant; I’m here. I understand. I love you.

“How did you get stuck with me?” Dean scoffs, thinking low of himself.

Cas is so attentive; Dean would always question if he would be a perfect fit for someone else. Someone more like him. Maybe another angel perhaps? Not some hunter that can barely face the fact he is in love with such an angelic man.

Someone that it’s been drilled into his head time and time again that all creatures are bad. That it’s always shoot first and ask questions later. That did happen the first time he met Cas, but beside the point.

Something has changed inside of him that’s changed only for the angel.

“I like being stuck with you,” Cas tries his luck again, tugging a hand free from Deans tight grasp to lay a cupped hand on his bearded cheek.

Dean doesn’t flinch this time. In fact, he moulds his hand over Cas’s much softer one, his rough palms such a wild contrast to the angelic beings. One would thing that a warrior of heaven would have a soldier’s hands. But Dean doesn’t care, he leans into the touch and lays a small, soft kiss into the palm of the angel. Cas chuckles softly to himself, a deep rumble that Dean always loves.

“Thank you…for the uh stuff.” Dean mumbles letting go of Cas’s hand so the angel could place his it back to his sides in almost an awkward manner.

Cas turns to face the bed again inspecting his work. He spent almost three whole days with Sam trying to find the best way to please Dean with this human holiday. So, to say he was nervous that Dean was not going like it was an understatement.

“I’m glad. I watched a tutorial on that YouTube thing you showed me.” Cas emphasised the word Tube with a strong ‘B’.

Cas then begins to ramble on about how he purchased such items and how he managed to use one of Sam real credit card. Dean rolls his eyes with a grunt before coming forward and wrapping his arms around Cas’s waist. He kisses the nape of his neck where the skin is exposed above his trench coat and the angel goes ridged, his words getting caught in his throat.

“Oh…” The angel peeps out. The tutorial was correct.

Dean begins undoing Cas’s buttons from behind, his fingers skilled from doing this many, many times in his past. He may not be great at sappy words, but he could classify himself an expert in other departments.

Cas turns around in the hunter’s hold to only have a pair of desperate lips crash into his. The angel grimaces but holds onto Dean’s face and doesn’t let him go. He pulls the hunter closer as his shirt is pulled out his pants. He’s slowly walked backward into the back of the bed. As soon as his knees hit the bed, he spins Dean around as if they were dancing.

Dean lands on the chocolate ridden bed with a gruff, “Oof,” before he can even register what just happened.

The hunter watches Cas shrug off his trench coat that flops to the ground heavily. Then, he pulls off his jacket and already undone shirt in the same motion. Dean can’t help but let his eyes wonder over the angel’s toned chest.

A little heavily, Cas sits down a top of Dean’s hips. The bed creaks under the added weight, but it’s nothing it can’t handle. Cas grinds down ever so softly but the motion has Dean grunting deep within his throat, his hands instantly grabbing onto the angel’s waist.

“Let me show you, Dean,” Cas grumbles deeply as he bends down, so close to the hunter that their noses touch, “Let me show you that you’re loved. That you’re cared for. That I love you.”

Dean breathing hitches in his throat as the angel kisses him deeply. Many would dream of this moment. To be kissed by an angel that they’ve read about in the bible. Or heard about from their priest and how the lord will send one down to help them in their worries. Well, Dean has many worries and problems, but he doesn’t think any priest or bible reader would be able to wrap their head around a sight like this one.

One that has an angel of the lord, grinding his hips down on his hardening crotch. One that has him doing something special for Valentine’s Day. Showing him how much he loves him and how much he’s cared.

At this affection, it has Dean feeling all weird and gooey inside. Something that he has never felt before with his one-night stands. There’s something about Cas that has Dean feeling desperate every single time. Out of breath, red in the face, weak in the knees.

It’s Dean that has to pull away from the kiss for air. He pants as his head spins from lack of oxygen and because Cas is still grinding down onto him, it makes his feel even dizzier in the head. The angel’s been either watching too many pornos or he’s picked up some shit from the hunter.

“Get these clothes off me,” Dean growls deeply before bringing Cas down for another kiss with a hand on the back of his head.

The angel groans as Dean tugs at his hair, keeping him as place so that he can abuse his mouth. But he does as the man wishes, breaking the kiss once again. He begins taking Dean’s clothes off as quick as he can. Pulling his shirt off over his head and unbuckling his jeans to pull them down. Dean’s half hard cock becomes exposed to the cold bunker air and he hisses through his teeth.

Cas is quick to follow suit, slipping his own pants off as well. And Dean soaks up the view all the same. He’ll never get over seeing the angel like this.

And certainly, won’t get over how the angel plods over to the bedside drawer and opens it up. His bare ass is open to the world and Dean can’t resist. It’s like there’s a massive red, neon sign pointing to his lily white ass saying, Smack me. So, he leans over where he is on the bed and slaps it.

The only reaction Dean gets from Cas is a slow turn of the head with a frown deep set on his face. He’s slightly disappointed in the hunter. He grabs Dean’s still outstretched hand and pins it to the bed as he climbs onto the bed again and over the top of the other.

“That was impulsive,” Cas murmurs.

“Hey,” Dean pipes up. “It was right there.”

Cas rolls his eyes at this but let’s go of his hand so that he can pop the lid of the lube he grabbed from the bedside table open. It should be embarrassing that he knows where to look without asking Dean, but he shouldn’t be all too worried. All worrisome thoughts are quickly ridden of though. Dean can’t help but runs his fingers over the angel’s thighs as he pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers.

He's all too tempted to reach in between Cas’s legs and touch. But he holds himself strong, waiting for the angel to say he can. He’s learnt well in the past to not touch in certain places without asking. The angel explained it as overwhelming but in a way that every single sensitive touch is like a hundred fireworks. What a thought.

Touching your own dick and fireworks begin bursting out of you.

Then, the angel lifts himself up a bit. And all while making eye contact with Dean, those blue eyes so dark now that they’re almost like midnight, he pushed two slicked fingers into himself. Dean bites the inside of his cheek as he grips Cas’s thighs tighter. Small grunts escape the angel’s throat as he leans over Dean more, working himself open for him. Dean swallows thickly, a warmth coiling in his gut at the sight. All for him. He grips Cas’s thighs tighter again, not being to break eye contact with him.

He feels like he’ll miss something. The sight of Cas is intoxicating. He wonders why his father saw this as wrong and unnatural. There’s nowhere else Dean would rather be right now. He would never be able to admit that out loud, but he just hopes that his angel knows that. Maybe one day he’ll be able to speak his mind without thinking he’s sounding like a little boy.

Then all of a sudden, like something out of Dean’s pornos, Cas reaches around to grab the hunter’s cock. He gives it a few strokes with his lubed-up fingers and each touch feels like fire to Dean. He holds his breath as the angel lines himself up, biting his lip with the amount of concentration on his face. The head of Dean’s cock pushes in smoothly and it feels like the hunter can’t breathe, all the air being punched out of him.

Slowly, the angel works himself onto Dean’s cock. Inch by inch, he’s determined to get every bit of the hunter into him. Cas breathes heavily through his nose as he closes his eyes, getting lost in the feeling himself. Dean can’t help but imagine the fireworks and it has him grinning.

Finally, the angel sinks down fully and sits on top of Dean with a shaky sigh. Dean can’t let go of the angel’s thighs. If he does, he reckons he’ll float away and never come back.

Only because it’s Cas, it feels so much different for Dean. The angel has Dean throwing his head back into the blankets and chocolates with a little movement of his hips. His finger nails scratch into Cas’s thighs and he can’t help but pant and groan deep within his chest. His angel hasn’t even done anything special, and he feels his skin buzzing.

Cas spreads his hands out onto Dean’s chest, his thumb rubbing over the tattoo on his peck. He sits on Dean for a moment, fully flush against his hips. He breathes slowly, taking in the beautiful sight of Dean trying to hold it together. He begins a slow yet brutal pace to watch Dean writhe. Moving his ass up an inch before moving back down with a twist of his hips. Each movement he’s able to get a small whine from his lover beneath him.

He keeps up the slow and agonizing pace though, waiting for Dean to say something. But he won’t force it out of him, he likes seeing him squirm a little.

“C-Cas,” Dean pants out. “Cas, please move fa-ah-ah,” he’s cut off for a moment, having to find his words in the muddle of moans and groans that force their way from his mouth. “Faster,” he gets out finally.

The angel can’t help but grin as he does as Dean wishes. He rises up until the head of the hunter’s cock sits at his rim then comes back down with another twist of his hips. He quickens his pace and his own hard cock bobs between his legs. The heat that coils in his own gut is intoxicating. Something he’s had to get use to with feeling everything tenfold.

With the new pace, Dean quivers and groans with every movement and coarse of pleasure that strikes through him. He looks to the angel through squinted eyes and feels his heart jump in his throat. Cas, his angel, he’d have to be an idiot to not see beauty in him.

He brings his angel down with his hands on either side of his face to kiss him. He just needs him close. Needs to feel his breath against his face. Needs to taste him on his tongue. He moves his hips upwards every time Cas comes down and each time it gets a grunt from the angel. A beautiful sound that is silky to the ears.

Dean pulls away from the kiss, having to catch air. But it’s very hard when Cas begins pecking and sucking at his jaw and neck quickly after. It’s all too much. He tries to flip Cas over like he’s done so many times. So that he can get at a better angle to fuck into Cas. But the angel holds him down tight on the bed.

Cas continues his pace, working himself on Dean’s dick without a faulter in his progress. He also continues nipping at Dean’s skin, kissing and sucking at him. Leaving marks wherever he’s been that will be there for days to come.

Dean holds onto Cas as his gut tightens, everything becoming fuzzy. He’s close and Cas is going to make him come his way tonight. And he holds on for dear life.

“C-Cas,” Dean pants out. “’M close.”

He can feel the angel smile into his neck as he changes the pace again. To something that has him taking the entirety of Dean and grinding down where he sits. Dean splutters, trying to move his hips but his legs begin to feel like jelly. He moves his knees up the best he can, so that he can move his hips in a way that he’s actually getting a grip on Cas. What the angel is doing to him is torture.

Cas sits up again and arches his back. He breathes heavily, sweat trickling down his chest and stomach. He rests his back against Dean’s knees, using it as a support so that he can concentrate on what he’s doing.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, his breath hitching in his throat at his loss of simple thoughts. And he doesn’t register it at first. The thing that’s pressing up against his flushed lips. But when he opens his eyes, he gladly takes the sweet chocolate being pushed into his mouth. Two fingers follow after it and Dean sucks at them before he knows what he’s doing. The chocolate breaks inside of his mouth and a gooey caramel covers the angel’s fingers and his tongue. He groans at the taste of the chocolate. If only if the brown sweet could taste this amazing all the time.

Without even asking, Dean begins licking and cleaning the angel’s fingers from the sweet and salty caramel and chocolate. He never breaks eye contact, looking at Cas through long lashes. His tongue twists and curls around Cas’s soft fingers, not leaving an ounce of caramel behind.

Once deemed acceptable, Cas removes his fingers and smiles at Dean’s work. He wishes to grab another, but the hunter has other plans.

With this new found position from Cas, Dean is finally able to move his hips properly. He grips onto Cas’s waist and begins driving his cock into the angel. The angel shivers and trembles at the abuse, having to hold onto Dean’s chest for support. He’s so close and he needs that little extra oomph. He grunts and whines as he comes closer and closer until finally.

Cas lays a hand over one of Dean’s hands as the hunter comes undone deep inside of the angel. His thrusts stutter but he gets a few more in before letting himself go fully. He can’t help but moan as his body goes ridged. He doesn’t let go nor does he move from inside Cas. He lets himself get lost in the orgasm and the sticky feeling dribbling down his balls.

It takes awhile before Dean comes back to the land of the living. Out of breath, sweaty and having lust filled eyes stare down at him is a wonderful mixture of things.

Cas moves off of Dean and the hunter’s softening dick flops onto his thigh. The angel sits down on his stomach gently, his stare never leaving the man under him. Dean swallows thickly, licking his caramel sweet lips. He looks down at Cas’s still hard and reddened cock between his legs and grunts in his throat.

“Give me,” Dean swallows thickly again. “Five minutes and we’ll go round two,” he says as he holds up two fingers.

Cas raises his brow. “Are you sure?”

Dean nods with a snort. “Of course, it’s Valentine’s, isn’t it?”

Happy Valentine's Day bitches :)

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