#obviously dean gets his husband back from the empty and tells him he loves him too

[slvtwh0re]

At Your Mercy

smut; spn, dean winchester

After an incident at the bar with a flirty bartender, you wanted to take your husband home and remind him just how lucky he was to have a wife like you. And while giving up control wasn’t something Dean didn’t often, letting you take the lead proved to be better than he ever expected.

Warnings: begging, praise, dirty talk, oral sex (make and female receiving), p in v

It wasn't often that Dean gave up control to you. You didn't understand why, because he very obviously enjoyed it when you took charge. But then again, you loved being trapped beneath him, feeling him use you as he pleased. Dean was simply good at everything.

Today, though, you were getting your way. After an incident at the bar with an overly flirtatious bartender, you wanted to give Dean a sweet reminder just how lucky he was. It had started as a trip for drinks, just you, Dean, Sam, and Cas. You and Dean had left early; you had other plans.

Dean was already turned on, just from watching you tell the woman off and flash your fancy wedding ring. The way you led him into the bunker - holding his hand with care but enough strength to remind him that he was at your mercy - only added to his need for you. Once again, he practically melted every time he got to see you in this light.

Clothes started shedding the moment you two reached the bedroom. Your black dress hit the floor - you'd never been one for fancy dresses, but Dean had convinced you to dress up tonight. Dean's eyes danced over your partially naked body, admiring the red undergarment set you were wearing.

"It's not fair that you're the only one staring," you said, tugging his shirt over his head. Once he was shirtless, you took a moment to admire him before placing your hands on his chest and shoving him backwards.

He hit the bed, crawling up to lay against the pillows. He was waiting for you, anticipating your next move. There you stood, in all your glory, looking down at him with lust-filled eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. "Let me make you feel good... Please, Y/N."

Hearing him beg was a weakness for you, and he knew it. But not tonight - you were taking your time with him. Shaking your head, you said, "Not yet."

Your words left him with curiosity over your next move, but his questions were soon answered. Positioning yourself over his lap, you leaned forward to slowly unzip his jeans. You stared up at him through your eyelashes, flooding him with memories of all the times your mascara ended up smeared down your face after spending a night together. It was one of his favorite ways to see you, but tonight, he'd see that other side of you. The side that wanted to push him to tears.

Once his jeans and boxers were discarded, you were back to your previous activity. Dean exhaled deeply when you took him into your mouth. You were teasing him, swirling your tongue around in slow circles. He was half tempted to grab your hair and shove your head down, but he knew it would only be digging his grave deeper.

His hands gripped the bedsheets, his breathing got heavier, and his eyes could barely stay open as you continued on. You kept the same pace for a few minutes, really trying to get him worked up.

Finally, he looked at you with those eyes; the ones pleading for you to give him something more, anything. You gave in, taking all of him into your mouth. A satisfied moan escaped his lips as you bobbed your head up and down, using your tongue to pay special attention to the vein along the underside of his cock.

Just as he felt his release building up, you pulled away. It left him feeling empty, missing your lips wrapped around him. You sat up, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Then, you pulled off your panties and grinned at him.

"I wanna ride your face, Dean," you told him.

The next word that left his mouth would've been enough to make you melt if you weren't so determined on having tonight play out how you wanted it. "Please..." he whispered.

He laid back on the bed, waiting for you. If there was one thing Dean absolutely loved, it was tasting you. Any chance he got, he was between your thighs, pleasing you in incredible ways. He knew your body, he knew what you liked.

So, when you positioned yourself over his face, you weren't surprised to feel him immediately start working you towards your first orgasm. His tongue made its way inside of you, slowly coming back up to circle your clit. You could feel his hands gripping your thighs, holding you down over his face. You'd surely have bruises from his grip, and you weren't sure how he was still breathing, but it felt too good to care.

When he used his hands to begin circling your hips over his face, you couldn't help the moan that escaped you. His mouth continued pleasuring you while you rode his face.

"You're so good, Dean." Somehow, you managed to utter praises between the sinful noises coming from both of you. "So good for me..."

He hummed against you at the sound of your words, and it was just enough to send you over the edge. He held you still as you came undone, using his tongue to gently clean up the mess.

When you resumed your spot on his lap, you took a moment to analyze his face. He had a drunken look in his eyes - drunk on your love and beauty and the feeling you gave him. His chin glistened under the dim light of the bedroom, making him all the more tantalizing. You moved to kiss him, taking a moment to remind him just how much you loved him.

"Maybe I should handcuff you..." you suggested against his lips. "Or maybe... it'd be more fun if you're just not allowed to touch me."

"I wanna touch you," he said breathlessly. "I wanna feel you, please..."

But you wanted to watch him squirm under you, watching you ride him and knowing he couldn't do anything. You wanted to see him reach behind himself to grip the headboard, toss his head back as he tried to swallow his moans.

He knew it, too, so it wasn't a shock when you shook your head. You used your hand to guide him to your entrance. In one, quick move, you sat down, taking all of him at once. He inhaled sharply, waiting for you to move. But you didn't - you stayed still for a moment, enjoying how he resisted thrusting his hips into you.

"Please, Y/N," he all but whimpered. "Please...

I can't..."

"You can," you assured him. "You can wait."

"You feel so good... Please..."

It seemed like ages, but in reality, it only took you a few seconds to give in to him. You began moving, switching between bouncing and circling your hips. At this point, Dean was a moaning mess, suffering the pain of not being able to touch you. The way you made him feel was overwhelming, overpowering in the best sense.

"You like this, huh, Dean?" you asked teasingly as you moved your hips in slow circles. "When I take control, when there's absolutely nothing you can do except watch me use you how I please."

"Yes," he admitted. "Yes - fuck, I love it. Please, Y/N... I wanna touch you."

He figured his plea would fall on deaf ears again, but surprisingly, it didn't. You gave in, nodding your head. Immediately, his hands reached out to grip your waist. However, he still let you take the lead.

Both of you were quickly approaching your ends, but Dean was the first to let go. He'd been surviving your teasing since the two of you had been home, but he couldn't take it any longer. You were too good.

The feeling of him filling you up made you come undone. You arched your back, dropping your mouth open in a silent moan. Dean thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and he wished he could take a picture to remember it forever.

You collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily and inhaling his scent. Even through the smell of sex and sweat lingering in the room, you could still smell remnants of his cologne, and it made you smile.

"Well," he breathed. "Maybe we should do that more often."

You chuckled, picking your head up to kiss him softly. "Give me a time and place."

"Round two in thirty minutes?"

"Thirty minutes."

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x y/n #smut #spn #spn fanfic #spn smut #supernatural #supernatural smut

[holycafe]

The last two months had flown by.

Dean had never felt like this before. He’d never been this happy. As a hunter, he’d never truly allowed himself to believe that he could get something in his life that was more than just pain and bloodshed. But looking at Cas now, his husband, who was currently burning their two-monthiversary dinner, he was happy.

“Here,” Dean said, stepping in and rescuing the chicken from the grill before it became charcoal. Cas sighed in relief, even though he had been adamant in finishing this meal by himself, and Dean pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before wiping away the bead of sweat that clung to his hairline. Cas closed his eyes and rested his head against Dean’s hand, drained after spending the last couple of hours racing around the kitchen. Dean had, obviously, offered his help sooner – seeing as how Cas could barely cook anything to save his own life – but he had been forcibly removed from the kitchen by his husband, who was insistent on doing this alone. But now, when Dean asked: “How can I help?” Cas was desperate enough that he didn’t turn him away.

They found an easy rhythm working together in the kitchen, and maybe it would be a little strange how easily they fell into it if it wasn’t for all the times that they’d worked side-by-side on a hunt together over the past twelve years? Because, actually, they hadn’t really done this yet. This cooking thing that is. Cas never needed to eat before he went to the Empty and lost his angel mojo, so he never needed to cook. And after coming back, people had always been around. There wasn’t ever just Dean and Cas in the kitchen. Not before the wedding, at least. And after the wedding, Jack sent them straight off to sunny Hawaii. Then Costa Rica, Thailand, Venice, New Zealand… Every time they got bored of the scenery and fancied a change, they just called Jack up and got zapped off somewhere new.

They’d come back for Sam and Eileen’s wedding, of course. Arrived back the day before and stayed to see them off to their own honeymoon. Then spent a couple of days milling around the bunker. But it was different now. They’d been gone for more than a month at that point, and it had gone from overcrowded to silent and empty and just as unbearable. So, they’d left again.

But it became pretty clear over the next few weeks that it wasn’t more days of sea, sun, and sand that they needed. They just needed – Dean needed – a home. And the bunker wasn’t enough anymore. He didn’t want an underground base of operations filled with spell books, cursed objects, and an endless tirade of hunters parading through the doors. Dean wanted windows and light. He wanted a place by the lake so that he could go fishing, with a big garden out back for Cas to grow whatever he wanted. He wanted a wine cellar and a porch that he could sit on with Cas in the morning and watch the sun come up. Dean wanted a home, he wanted a life, he wanted to hang up his hunting gear once and for all, and Cas was right behind him.

But they couldn’t exactly go looking for their dream house while on their honeymoon in Bali. So, once they got fed up with overcrowded beaches, strangers, and fake-happy hotel staff, the two of them returned to the empty bunker again, just in time for their two-month anniversary.

And Dean hadn’t ever really thought he was a ‘monthiversary’ kind of guy… but life as a hunter had taught him to celebrate the little things in life. And, anyway, this didn’t feel like a ‘little’ thing. This felt huge. They’d been married for two months! Two months where Dean could hold Cas’ hand without caring who saw. Two months where he could press a kiss on his cheek, his jaw, his neck, shoulder, lips. Two months with a ring on his finger – which had been a strange feeling at first but now felt as comfortable to him as his own skin.

Two months.

“I love you,” Dean said, and Cas looked up from where he was stirring the sauce, his blue eyes so beautiful. He smiled.

“I love you, too.”

They could say that now as though it was the simplest thing in the world. As though they hadn’t been hiding those feelings away like the biggest secret in the world up until only a few months ago. They loved each other, and they could say it because, of course, they did! They always had, and they always would. ‘til death do us part and all that.

Except, they both knew that death wouldn’t be the end of their story. Either they’d come back to life. Again. Or they’d find each other in heaven. That was the perk of having an ex-angel as a husband and God as their son. Dean had got a peek behind the proverbial curtain; he didn’t have to guess about what was to come. He knew that when he said Cas was stuck with him forever, he wasn’t exaggerating.

“Alright, what are we working with?” Dean asked as he got his mind back on track, taking the wooden spoon from Cas and preparing himself as he moved to taste the sauce that his husband had been working on.

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t trust Cas; he just didn’t trust Cas’ ability to cook them a meal without giving them food poisoning. After all, the last time he’d attempted to cook them anything, he’d ended up dumping sugar into the frying pan because the recipe had said to ‘caramelise’ the onions. Obviously, that had been a disaster.

This time, however, the sauce actually tasted pretty good. Dean nodded his approval. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; Cas always was a quick learner. He said as much and saw the way that his husband beamed with pride, his grin contagious.

They finished up the meal and set the table in the library together pretty quickly.

“I’ll put some music on,” Cas said, but Dean was soon up on his feet and shaking his head no.

“Nuh-uh. We’re not listening to Beyonce on our anniversary. We listen to real music or nothing at all,” he said. Cas knew that he was only teasing. Of course, he did; he knew Dean better than anyone. Better than even Sam did. Hell, Cas knew him better than Dean knew himself. He didn’t even hate Beyonce all that much – not that he would ever tell anyone other than Cas that – but still, Dean stayed true to his word and played his favourite Led Zeppelin playlist on shuffle through Sam’s speaker, and then they started to dig into their meal.

They were almost done eating before one of the songs that Dean had added onto the mixtape that he’d made for Cas a few years ago started to play, and Cas started to hum along, tapping his fingers lightly against his glass to the beat of ‘Thank You’.

And when Plant started singing, Cas joined in, effortlessly whispering the lyrics under his breath. “If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.”

And as Cas continued to sing along, Dean’s heart sang with him as he stared in open amazement.

“You’ve listened to the tape,” Dean said, the words almost sounding like an accusation to his own ears. And it was stupid how his stomach was doing little flips right now because they were married, goddammit! But, yeah, sometimes Cas still gave him butterflies.

Right now was definitely one of those times.

“It was a gift,” Cas reminded him. And Dean nodded, but it was so much more than that: it was the first time that Dean had put conscious effort into telling Cas how he felt. He’d given him a mixtape! A mixtape made mostly of love songs from his favourite band. “I listened to it whenever I missed you when I was away,” Cas continued, and Dean’s heart gave another little throb in his chest. “I missed you a lot.”

Christ.

“I missed you a lot too,” Dean admitted. Of course, he’d missed him. He’d missed him every damn second of every day that they weren’t together.

If Dean was better at vocalising how he felt, then he would have told Cas that. He thought that Cas still understood, though, if the was he was smiling, his blue eyes glistening, was anything to go by. He was beautiful.

Cas’ fingers were still drumming against his glass in tempo to the song as though he wasn’t even conscious of it. Dean shook his head, forgetting his dinner for a moment as he stood up and offered Cas his hand. Cas blinked at him in confused for a moment, unsure, and so Dean rolled his eyes and reached down to tug him up to his feet and into an embrace before leading them in a dance around the library.

Dean could feel Cas’ body pressed nice and warm against his own, as comfortable as the ring on his finger. He could feel the smile on Cas’ cheeks pressed against Dean’s, though he didn’t need to turn his head to see the smile for himself. He had all of Cas’ smiles memorised.

“Sing to me, Cas,” Dean teased as they danced to the song. Though, it wasn’t actually a taunt. Not really. The way he said it might have sounded like he was goading and making a joke of the situation, but in reality, the thought of Cas singing Led Zeppelin to him only served to make Dean’s insides twist up into knots. And Cas knew that because Cas knew him. And so, when the next verse began, he sang.

“And so today, my world it smiles,” he sang. His voice was deep and rough, but still beautiful, and Dean’s heart really did leap at the sound. “Your hand in mine, we walk the miles. Thanks to you, it will be done.”

“For you to meeeee are the ooooonly oneeeee!” Dean sang the next line, making Cas laugh, his breath ghosting against Dean’s neck, causing the small hairs there to stand up. Dean smiled and finally turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his husband’s lips while the song continued on around them.

Christ, he loved his man so much, more and more every day. They’d been married now for two months. Two months and counting, and Dean was so happy to spend the rest of their lives together.

#okay i tried but i kept getting writers block while writing this so sorry if it sucks #i was going to go with Cas puts on the mixtape for their anniversary dinner but this idea flowed better in writing #destiel #deancas #deancas wedding #destiel anniversary #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins #spn #pieprincesswritesdestiel #pieprincesswritesspn #pieprincesswritesfics #flowersforcastag

[chessieshire]

Processing my thoughts here.

I've been rewatching Cas and Dean scenes and moments where I know they talk about each other to analyze their reactions. Why? Because I wanted to assess for myself how I think Dean feels about Cas. I like to think I have pretty good intuition or so I've been told throughout my life. Track record of it is pretty good with the results.

When you grow up walking on eggshells having to assess people's behavior and emotions in order to protect yourself and others it becomes a necessary survival skill.

So what do I think so far? Ok so Dean is definitely bi so let's get that out of the way.

I personally think Dean has been subconsciously attracted to Cas and has felt love for him as a best friend or brother up until season 12 when I believe Dean actually fell in deep love with Cas.

I believe the moment Dean fell in love with Cas was when Cas killed Billy to save the 3 of them and then says he doesn't care if he loses his own life as a consequence.

I think before that moment Dean really did feel dead inside from being locked up in solitude for almost 2 months. Then when Cas made that huge risk to his own life to save theirs I believe it brought Dean's emotions back to life. Like a cosmic jumpstart.

Obviously Dean's an emotionally suppressed dum dum (I am too it takes one to know one) that he wasn't aware of falling in love with Cas he was just reacting to his frustrations, confusions, and concern for Cas and the "cosmic consequences". Hence the marital bickering in the next episode.

I believe that Dean started to realize he was in love with Cas when he almost died by the poisonous/venomous lance. When Cas said he loves him looking at Dean and loves them all. Dean started to realize he loved him romantically as he almost lost him again but probably still didn't "get" what kind of love Cas meant towards him.

Then Dean's dealing with too much confusion about it. He was so upset with Cas leaving and not responding to his messages it triggered his abandonment issues while Mary was also "needing space" at the same time that made those triggers worse. He had told Cas previously that he's his and Sam's best friend and brother (probably to observe his reaction to that to get a hint of how Cas felt) but he's obtuse so he probably felt like Cas loved him like a bro.

Not to mention season 7 when Dean is telling Kevin that he doesn't believe angels have the equipment to care and when they try they breakdown.

So I can see how it never occurred to him about Cas being in love with him and why he'd continue to suppress his own emotions and try distracting them with countless women. Despite cutting down on the sexual conquests in the last few seasons because they probably didn't work much anymore as a distraction and he got a piece of the void filled with merely Cas's friendship.

Edited to add: (oh shit how could I forget to point out?! So the last time Dean canonically had sex was season 12 episode 18 while Cas was missing and Dean was extremely upset with him. Dean was trying to distract his feelings about Cas and it no longer worked in my opinion. He looked more distracted than usual and when he told Sam how his night was he had to say awesome 3 times like he was trying to convince himself. Hence the last time he sleeps with a woman. From this point on Dean doesn't have anymore one night stands. ...carry on...)

Without a doubt Dean was unsure if angels in general could actually fall in love and felt like it was less painful to not pursue a romantic relationship due to the job and how either one of them could die for any reason.

If Cas had been human and there were no more monsters and demons and supernatural shit to hurt and kill people I'm confident that they would've been hooking up. It would've ruled out the complicated job risks and made clear that Cas is capable of feeling romantic love for somebody.

The times that Dean was actually angry at Cas and not "pretend angry but actually worried" were because he was offended that Cas didn't trust him and that Cas took off without an explanation or response. It just added to Dean's fears of Cas being incapable of feeling true love for him because he's an angel.

When Dean prayed to Cas in season 15 I think he was going to finally confess he loved him. But time was of the essence. As it always is and then they never get a moment after that to really talk to each other until Cas confessed his love.

Edit: Can I check this one off?! Because it really does sound like Dean says, "I...(breathy pause) I-love...(huff pause) you-don't know why I get so angry." *thinks* Yeahhhh it counts dammit! ✅

The episode after Dean's confession is Garth showing him being with someone is possible with their complicated backgrounds and jobs and he dances with a lamp and blows it a kiss. Whether or not the lamp really is a stand in for Cas it definitely is a representation of something or someone Dean truly wants.

He yearns for sharing love with someone.

Edit: Can I sorta check this one off? Ehhhh...maybe??? The guy that plays Garth (sorry I don't want to misspell the actor's name) stated that there was hidden subtext for romantic love with Dean and another character. He didn't say the subtext was "lamp" though since he thought this scene was meant to be fun...but...I think maybe it still could be if he was unaware of it. Since I'm hearing the dance choreographer says there's deeper meaning.

In season 11 Dean asked Jesse and his husband Cesar about what was it like settling down with a hunter. He was thinking about it! He wanted to know not only for Sam but for himself as well! He asked a GAY COUPLE which clues me in on maybe because they made him think of him and Cas. Maybe subconsciously anyway.

Dean never gets the opportunity to express how he truly feels other than anger, forgiveness, and brotherly love towards people and that's some toxic masculinity bullshit!

When Cas left to the Empty Dean was completely breaking down not just because he lost Cas but because he felt he lost his only chance at a happy life with a significant other who understands him.

And then the next episodes made no fucking sense. Read a bit like "oh well now I'm relieved I didn't have to confess my deep love for a dude and can move on! Mmmmmm...pie!"

(my phone autocorrected to "mmmmmm... Pierre" and I was like 👀 even my phone's like Dean is bi and looking for a french dude to take his mind off Cas lolll)

So to summarize...Dean Winchester loves Castiel and the last 2 episodes is some outrageous bullshit and I'll never get over it unless by some miracle Jensen obtains the rights to the show and fixes it!

#dean is bi #dean winchester is in love with castiel #deancas #deancass #deanwinchester #destiel headcanon #destiel is love #destiel is real #bi dean #deans mix tape #dean x castiel #castiel winchester #casdean #canon destiel #castiel #cas #destiel is canon #dean winchester #destiel #destiel angst #destielgate

[fangirlingtodeath513]

eyes on the prize | a destiel fanfic explicit, PWP, no archive warnings apply, 1.8k words

It all started with a simple, innocent text. Okay, maybe not innocent. Castiel had woken up to a cold, empty bed. He’d been used to having Dean around during quarantine, but now that the world was finally back in order, at least for the most part, Castiel’s constant now was a frigid, too-large bed.

Today, though... today he’d woken up rock-hard, a whisper of Dean’s name on his lips as he was finally dragged from the glorious, pleasure-filled dream into the real world. He rolls over to grab for Dean and that’s when the reality hits him: Dean’s at work and Castiel’s alone. So, rather than taking care of his hard-on himself, he rolls over and feels around the nightstand for his cell phone.

In his opinion, the photo he sends is rather tasteful. He leaves his briefs on and grips his shaft through them, just enough that the outline of his obviously hard cock is visible but no skin is showing. It’s a lot more tasteful than other pictures he’s sent to Dean, at least. 

He doesn’t hear back from Dean, which is odd. He texts again at lunch to wish him a wonderful rest of his day, but his text goes unanswered yet again. It throws him off his rhythm, so he doesn’t even manage to finish the painting he’d been working on for a client. He doesn’t have to ship it for another week, thankfully, so he eventually just gives up and wanders into the kitchen. He ends up making dinner—Dean’s favorite, just in case he’d inadvertently angered or embarrassed Dean with his photo—and becomes so engrossed that he doesn’t even hear the apartment door open. 

Dean’s keys clattering onto the table near the door is what draws his attention. He turns to find his husband hastily removing his jacket and just dropping it on the floor. Castiel opens his mouth to tell him to hang it up but then watches the frantic energy that Dean has as he toes his shoes off and makes for the kitchen, eyes locked on him with a mix of hunger and something else that Castiel can’t put his finger on.

He’s barely able to put down the spatula he’d been using before Dean’s crowding him against the counter and kissing him within an inch of his life. It leaves him breathless, dizzy, and delightedly confused when Dean finally pulls away, though he just moves to kiss his way down Castiel’s neck. He tilts his head without a second thought, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Well hello to you, too,” Castiel murmurs, a ghost of a laugh in his tone. 

Dean scoffs against his neck, leaning back just enough to shoot Castiel a look of incredulity. “Hello? You expect me to say hello when I’ve spent the entire day hiding behind my desk, rock fucking hard because I knew you were at home getting yourself off and all I could do was stare at my computer screen and think about it?” 

Castiel grins, albeit a little sheepishly, and brushes his fingers through the hair at the back of Dean’s head. “I’d apologize, but I’m not very sorry. I missed you this morning. I figured you’d enjoy a small—“ Dean scoffs at the notion that Castiel is in any way small, to Castiel’s simultaneous joy and embarrassment “—reminder of our lazy days in bed. I apologize if it ruined your day.”

Dean grunts, shuffling away from Castiel. For a moment, Castiel worries his apology has been too effective and ruined the mood, but then Dean shuts off the stove burners and moves the half-cooked food off the heat. 

“Dean, I—“ He doesn’t get to finish his protests. Dean’s lips are back on his and after just a moment, Dean bends and grabs Castiel behind the knees, hauling him into Dean’s arms. Dean tends to be the more submissive one in the bedroom, so the unusual show of strength rips a throaty groan from Castiel. It seems to only spur Dean on as he turns and heads for their bedroom, his lips never once leaving Castiel’s skin.

He’s deposited rather unceremoniously onto their bed, though he can’t really complain. Dean’s disheveled, his obvious erection straining in his dress pants as he stands above Castiel, seemingly drinking in the sight of him. Castiel leans back on his forearms, smirking up at his husband.

“Enjoying the view?”

Dean hums noncommittally, which simply won’t do. Castiel keeps his eyes locked on Dean’s face, slipping his hand down to grip his own erection through his sweatpants. Dean’s sweatpants, his brain helpfully supplies, but the action seems to have the effect Castiel was hoping for. Dean’s knees waver and he licks his lips, eyes flickering up to Castiel’s face. There’s a hint of defiance twinkling in his eyes, though the question behind them is still rather obvious.

“Go ahead,” Castiel encourages, a smirk curling his lips. “Show me what you’ve been thinking about all day, my love.” 

Dean shivers at the endearment as he sinks to his knees, which are thankfully protected at least a little by the plush carpet of their bedroom—something they’d argued about for months before Castiel had eventually won. He’s sure Dean’s knees thank him every time they settle into that softness rather than an unforgiving hardwood floor. 

Dean’s fingers are cold when they curl around Castiel’s hips, frozen by the bitter winter temperatures of the northeast. Perhaps he’s just feverish with arousal. Maybe it’s a combination of both. He doesn’t really care. All he can focus on is Dean’s fingers as he tugs Castiel’s sweatpants and briefs off, leaving them bunched around his thighs as he presses his tongue to the ridge on the underside of Castiel’s cock, making him gasp and curl his fingers into the sheets. Dean seems to take pleasure in the response, his cold, broad hands trailing up and down Castiel’s thighs as he licks and teases and sucks his cock, his cartoonishly plump lips easily swallowing Castiel to the root. He could come just like this—has several times, in fact—but that’s not what’s on the agenda for tonight. Dean’s been looking forward to this since Castiel texted him earlier and Castiel won’t deprive his husband of his fantasies. God knows they’ve acted out enough of both of their fantasies. 

“Earth to Castiel,” Dean murmurs against the skin of his hip, pressing a gentle kiss there. Castiel blinks down at him, brushing his fingers through Dean’s hair gently.

“I’m here,” he assures, a soft smile on his lips. He brushes a thumb over the collection of freckles beneath Dean’s left eye, letting out a pleased hum when Dean leans into the touch. “Why don’t you come up here, hm? You deserve a reward for my teasing today,” Castiel murmurs, dipping his thumb into Dean’s mouth. Dean instantly closes his lips around it, teasing the pad with his tongue. “Fuck, Dean.” It’s a whisper more than anything, but Dean’s eyes roll up to look at him and he can see just how pleased his husband is with the response. Smirking, Castiel hauls him up onto the bed and swaps positions, discarding his sweats and briefs as he straddles Dean’s waist. The slide of their erections against each other makes them both gasp, Dean’s hands scrambling for Castiel’s waist. 

“God, dreamed about this all day. About what would’ve happened if I’d been home.”

Castiel smirks as he rolls his hips lazily, fingers tracing Dean’s nipples through the fabric of his dress shirt. “Yeah? And what did you imagine would have happened?”

Dean arches into the touch, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he sucks in a breath. “That you’d roll over and just take me. I’d still be loose from last night so you could work me open before I even opened my eyes.” Dean shivers as Castiel’s blunt nails scrape over his erection through his dress pants, whimpering quietly.

“Keep going,” Castiel encourages, rewarding Dean’s cooperation by unbuttoning his dress shirt and helping his husband out of it. Castiel closes his lips around Dean’s left nipple as Dean begins to speak again.

“O-or maybe you’d leave me like that. Not prepped all the way. Then I’d wake up to your cock in me, the burn of you stretching me open...” He trails off as Castiel bites down on his nipple, grabbing onto his shoulder tightly. “Oh, Cas, fuck.”

Castiel smirks, laving his tongue over his nipple gently. “That’s the plan.”

He can’t quite see Dean roll his eyes, but he knows his husband well enough to know that he most certainly does. Dean has his fair share of stupid puns most days, so Castiel has no problem reciprocating. 

“Perhaps we can fulfill that fantasy in the morning,” Castiel murmurs, his fingers slipping down to brush over Dean’s hole. He nearly comes when he finds Dean already prepped, his body ready and waiting to swallow Castiel’s cock. “God, Dean, you prepped yourself at work?”

He looks up to find Dean smirking at him as he winds his legs around Castiel’s waist. “I told you, Cas. Been lookin’ forward to this all day.”

Castiel shivers at the image of Dean prepping himself in his office, knowing he could be walked in on at any point, and leans over to grab the lube in their nightstand. He doesn’t waste any time divesting them both of the rest of their clothes, slicking his cock, and sinking into Dean. They both gasp at the feeling. Dean clutches at Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel can’t find the drive within himself to take this slow. Dean’s been waiting for this and honestly? He kind of has, too.

Dean’s legs tighten around his waist as Castiel puts more force behind his thrusts. Their kisses turn more into them just sharing breaths and moans and gasps than actually kissing. He can’t complain about that, though. It only makes it feel all the more intimate.

He can tell the moment Dean’s about to come. His hands slip down to Castiel’s biceps, gripping tightly as he buries his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck. Dean always gets quiet and clingy when he’s close and Castiel fucking loves it. Dean comes with his arms wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders, clinging to his husband as if his life depends on it. Castiel isn’t very far behind, capturing Dean’s lips in a warm kiss that makes his heart skip a beat as he comes, cradling his husband in his arms.

He gives himself a moment to catch his breath before carefully shuffling them onto the bed, holding Dean tightly and kissing his forehead. “All day, huh?”

Dean snorts. “Been thinkin’ about that, have you? Yes, all day. That picture was… mmm.”

Castiel grins and leans over to kiss his husband quickly. “I”m glad you liked it.”

“Hm,” Dean answers, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “I think I’d like those burgers I saw on the way in even more.”

Castiel laughs, though he happily obliges with a fond shake of his head. They don’t bother to dress, just throw on their matching robes and head for the kitchen. Their burgers may get a little burnt while Dean satiates his appetite for Castiel once again, but neither of them mind.

#writersofdestiel #deancasfanficnet #profoundnet #destiel #destiel fanfic #my writing

[missmaxime]

Pool Scene Analysis

Ah, yes. The already famous pool scene! I’ve rewatched it too, and I can only say that I still love it as much as I did on first watch – but I understand how people can have mixed feelings about it. Overall this episode is a lot about parallels, as we could see with flashbacks and the now of Beth and Dean. And the pool scene is part of a sets of parallels when I look at it: Two parallels: - Pool Scene vs past Beth/Rio scenes. [Most notably the bathroom Break in 2x04 – yes with pictures included, I’m not a monster] - Beth/Rio vs Beth/Fitzpatrick vs Beth/Dean (I was going to break it into those two parallels, but I decided to go chronologically, it makes more sense) Dean + Beth So, what happens just before? Dean just figuratively threw the door in Beth’s face, because he learned that he isn’t just in jail because of Beth. He now knows that Rio was a part of this scheme since the very beginning. From the past seasons we know that Dean doesn’t have that much of a problem with the whole crime aspect, he bribes the doctor himself when he fakes the cancer, hires the baby hitmen to off Rio, and handles the books at Boland Motors (Beth asks Dean where the books are, when Turner is about to raid them). Dean’s problem is not with crime, it’s with Rio. Beth + Rio / Pool Scene Beth drops by Rio at his (empty) bar, and tells him she needs a loan. Now, she’s never been shy to ask for money or time or jobs with Rio, but in a way most of those times were directly of indirectly beneficial to Rio in the end. There’s obviously times he refused, like when she wanted him to participate in the Botox scheme in 1x08 – because that was an instance where it once benefited her. And, like now, law enforcement is on them. And we know Rio ain’t doing any time because some bitches need their pocket money.

It’s the episode Ruby and Annie called Beth out for not NOT wanting to do crime – hell, how she’s crawling out of her skin living ‘the normal life’. In the same episode Rio tells her she’s not going to be any kind of boss until she gets her house in order, while both her business and her actual house in 4x03 are in shambles again. In 1x08 Ruby also learns that Eddie is talking to the feds, putting the girls up for an important decision: Who’s going to be the fall guy, Eddie or them? It’s not going to be them. Back to pool. Beth tells him it’s for bail, but Rio immediately nah’s her. She needs a fall guy if she ever wants to make money again. Which is what Rio did to Beth before 4x04, he left all the fake money in her name. Presumably so he could go and make a fresh start for himself. But when she prove her worth again he took it all away. Beth tells Rio that at ‘it’s not his fault’. But Rio reminds her that he told her to be smart:

Which is what he told her when he send her to watch Lucy, someone else who got spiraled into crime due to Beth’s scheme. Another innocent who took a fall for her, albeit it not directly her doing. Dean’s arrest, by also not letting him in on the crime, but who she set up form the beginning by putting both the store and accounts on his name – is her doing. As much as she might not want to see that.

“Look they’ll cut a deal. Three years, club Fed.” Beth jumps on how it’ll affect her kids and her, but ignores the thing I’m latching on to: That Rio assumes Dean will cut a deal with the Secret Service. But that would mean Dean can offer them something in exchange for him to cut years of his sentence. And we already know that Dean knows nothing about how the business works – Phoebe knows by now that Dean knows nothing about how the business works, because she found Beth’s handwritten instructions herself – so the only substantial thing Dean has to offer is Beth. I’m not entirely sure Beth’s talking crime implications, or personal when she asks ‘What about me?’ but Rio is very keen to focus entirely on the marriage part. Telling her that ‘her boy’ will come out in better shape than when he went in. ‘Maybe she’ll even wanna hit that again’. Beth’s briefly looking at him with a look of ‘I can’t believe you brought that up’, but barrels forward with a ‘There’s gotta be a way to get him out’.

This moment parallels with the first non-flashback scene we see, of Beth and Dean, that I talked about before. Dean’s issues with Beth’s crime life are with Rio. And Rio’s throwing it out there that can’t grasp why she has such an issue with Dean talking the fall. He might not know everything about their marriage, but he knows it’s broken enough for her to have sex with him, for her to get into crime and choosing to stay, and to even set him up and keep him in the dark for Boland Bubbles. Hell, the first time they fucked her husband was sitting three feet away waiting for the bill, and the second time was in her marital bed. But I’ll get back to that.

Rio throws back that if you ‘Do the crime, you do the time.’ To which this piece of convo follows:

In 2x13 (and please lets not get into discourse how poorly this was built up) Rio made sure everything was on Beth, even oopsing the dead body buried under her lawn to Turner as a cherry on top of all the funny money and the dealership. Rio knows he needs a fall guy – and in 2x13 it was Beth – she could make it all go away if she murdered Turner.

Rio talks about how he got luck on his side. Surviving the shooting could be considered lucky, and the opportunity it gave him to wipe the streets from his competition gave him more space and opportunity to built something up after he organized the drive by on Turner. But he also say ‘Maybe you do to.’ Which could indicate their immediate game, but I’m thinking it might be more. I think this might be a reference to Rio’s mystery boss we have yet to meet. When you think about it, Turner took a lot of people down probably in the span of like two months, and Rio was AWOL for all that time – he’d be the first one people look at to be a snitch. Yet he remains unscathed for the whole of season three up ‘til now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he had some wort of protection. And perhaps he’s offering Beth to be in on that too. Speaking of 2x04’s bathroom break, hello bail deal! We all know there some more ambiguity surrounding this scene, but all choreography of this scene seems so deliberately close to 2x04 I cannot unsee. Look:

Beth seals the deal back in the bar, and Rio allows her to take it from his cut she still owes him. That is, obviously, not what she was looking for. But who’s surprised, really? In 1x08 he was shut down, not taking on new business and not continuing the running ones. He even stole all Beth’s money – she could have known that everybody still feels the pain.

Once again Beth will have to solve things herself, but Rio can’t help but look at her as she storms out. Beth + Fitzpatrick I already touched on the 2x13 parallel from when Beth says that nothing ever sticks on Rio, but there’s more callback in this scene as well. Beth now has been turned down by Dean from even talking to her, and by Rio from help with money for bail. She’s kind of fed up at this point, and at the end of her rope. And now this infatuated dick who refuses to do the job she hired him fore is lounging in her kitchen like her owes the place – owes her.

Beth has a tendency to copy Rio when she really needs something, but also doesn’t really know how to get it – like when she and the girls went into the crack house to retrieve the Dubby. I can’t say I’m surprised she explodes her, changing her tactic to ‘giving him what he wants’. Like the crack house this could have ended horribly, but fortunately it works (well, for now, we don’t know yet how this is going to play out). But Beth’s visibly weighted by the choice she just made to handle this – even if it worked. So that’s folks! What do you guys think? Did you notice a parallel I missed?

#gg analysis #nbc good girls #4x03 #beth x rio #pool scene #i wanted to do all the 2x04/4x03 scenes side by side #BUT FOR SOME REASON #tumblr refuses to do as I say #mobile desktop anything #woe is us it's bigger pictures

[shcherbatskya]

chapter two is out here! or read below the cut!

Dean turned the key to unlock the door. they all stepped inside, still in their moment of Revelation. the silence was eventually broken by jack saying, “why’s it empty?”

“It’s ‘cause our furniture isn’t here yet,” Cas explained. Dean tacked on that it would be arriving sometime today. In the meantime, before the stuff arrived, Dean took the time to explain what exactly this endeavor meant for everyone. He had applied online for a mechanic job the week prior, they had only gotten back to him to tell him he got the job the day before. Dean was still reeling from everything happening so fast. it’s like everything hed wanted for so many years was finally coming to fruition, and it was an adjustment.

Cas had signed both Jack and Claire up for school. Jack was going into first grade and Claire into her senior year of high school. Obviously, Claire was older than that, but she could pass as younger just for a little while, while everything was sorted out. Plus she could gather valuable intel that way. The hard part would be getting her to agree to this plan. Jack, on the other hand, was completely thrilled about starting school. He couldn’t wait to be able to have friends his own age. Cas didn’t have much to do throughout the day, but with the other stay-at-home parents in the neighborhood, he was sure he could find some way to help out.

Snapping out of his daydream, Dean took the time to explain how everything would go in the next month or so. “I got a job at the repair shop down the road, Cas will stay here and look after everything, Jack will go to school like we planned, and Claire, we sort of set you up in school again.”

“Wow, you guys are really on a kick of making life decisions without asking me arent you!”

“Claire, it was the best option at the time, we needed the intel from kids that age, and its not like Dean or I could just walk in and ask,” Cas explained.

There was no doubt about it, she reacted as expected. Even though shed only been out of school for a year or so, she’d never enjoyed it when she was involved, so the thought of going back made her sick to her stomach. Since there was really no where to stomp off too, as the entire house was empty, she settled for sitting on the floor behind the kitchen island to process. Some ten minutes later Dean came and sat down on the floor next to her.

“Look, I get it. Nothing can be perfect for us, but sometimes you just gotta tough it out and it’ll be better than you think.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

(This is a flashback to the action point just so everyone knows whats happening)

It was a normal Tuesday evening. The couple was eating dinner just as normal. Quiet conversation, and unspoken glances were commonplace for them, so the feeling over eerie silence was nothing new, and neither thought anything of it. They didn’t even hear the sound of the door open. Did the door even open?

The husband reached across the table for the salt, his wife screamed in horror when she caught sight of the tall hooded figure above him. The town was small and she shouldve known who it was at first sight, but unfortunately, when youre about to be stabbed, those things dont come as easy. She reached across the table for her phone to call 911, but she didnt make it before the figure had stabbed her husband and was moving on to her. Those were the last thoughts she had before being found in a pool of her own blood the next morning.

The neighbor had heard them and called the cops. News spread like the blight, and everyone was taken in for questioning, so far, no motive or prime suspects had been declared. It had been a month since, and the police presence was now slim to none, even though almost no progress had been made into the actual investigation. That’s just how it is when you have to solve a murer case with nothing to go on but a dead couple and a town of suburbanites.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

(this is bak in normal time just fyi)

After about half an hour of just trying to process what was happening, Claire was ready to go back to join the rest of her family in putting their furniture together. Cas was sitting on the floor in front of what looked like it could be a table, if you positioned it correctly.

“You need some help?” She asked.

“Yes, if it isnt too much to ask, I could use an extra hand,” he gestured to the manual, “it says you need two people here anyway.”

Claire sat down next to cas and took the manual from his hands, “what step are you even on? None of the pictures look like whatever you’ve managed to create.”

Upstairs, Dean was trying to show Jack how to use an impact driver, “look, I know youre only like what? Five? But its never too early to learn how to use a set of tools.” He handed the tool over to Jack, it looked wildly disproportionate in his hands but that’s not what mattered, what mattered was the fact that he was having a bonding moment with his son, a positive one too. He was bridging the gap of what he missed in his childhood, and giving Jack what he had wanted.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

The next day was spent almost exclusively on introductions. First they went over and greeted their new neighbors on each side, Tracey and Paul Wayne on their right, and Peter and Vicky David on their left. It seemed to them that neither of them had much of a clue as to what was going on regarding the murder, seeing as that was not mentioned even in passing. However it could be basic politeness and not wanting to scare your new neighbors away. Both couples were in their mid-fiftes and greeted them kindly. The Waynes had a wooden statue of an eagle with some pro-America quote on it, and that was one of the most memorable things about them. The other memorable thing was their brigh red Volkswagon Beetle in the driveway. Dean silently noted a love of older cars as something to connect over in case he ever needed to get closer to them. The Davids had 6 small dogs, and that was their defining trait, they seemed like the people to have “I love my shitzu” stickers plastered all over their car, but they seemed like fine enough people.

The next thing on the agenda was when someone rang their doorbell. It was a woman about their age, who had come to their door both to introduce herself, and to inform them of a house party happening later that night. The woman introduced herself as Hester Stewart from two houses down. Both Dean and Cas were glad to see that there was someone their age who didn’t have a strange amount of pets, or questionable taste in outdoor decor. They made introductions of their own, Claire and Jack even briefly appeared to say hello. They asked her for more information about the party, and she explained that it was being put on by the HOA president to distract from all that was happening, “I guess she figured one shindig would make everyone forget about the murder that happened a few houses down from her house.” She gestured down the road and to the right, apparently in the direction of the woman’s house, “Also she did ask me to invite you, I’m not just asking you to show up without anyone’s permission,” she clarified.

After that they thanked her and went on with their day. “Do you think we should attend the party later today?” Cas asked. Not looking up from the loveseat he was putting together

“I think I was planning on it, it’d be a good way to get out and meet people, not to mention gather details on what’s happening around here without looking suspicious,” Dean replied, flipping the page in the manual.

Cas agreed. Usually events like this weren’t his thing, but he could suck it up for an hour or two if it meant gathering intel. He made a mental note to prepare for more events like this one, and pushed it to the back of his mind. He found himself having to do that more often since becoming human. His angel brain could process more information than any human by hundreds, but downsizing the amount of space in his brain was an adjustment, and he found himself having to push things of the back of his mind more often.

Claire had been eavesdropping from the top of the staircase for the past exchange. Truth be told, she was almost excited to ‘meet the new neighbors’ in such a domestic fashion. She had just gotten off the phone with Kaia, she was showing her the layout of the house, as well as updating her on the situation she had gotten herself into. “They really put you back in high school?” Kaia had asked, thinking about how if anyone had done that to her, she’d’ve put up a lot more of a fight.

“They really put me back in high school,” she had replied. Maybe deep down she did want to sort of have the closure she missed in her high school years.  She missed Kaia a large amount for only not seeing her face to face for a little less than a week, but she had learned from all she’d lost, that she just had to let herself feel her feelings.

They all gathered in the empty living room shortly after. Cas explained the whole plan to Jack and her. Jack was thrilled to be getting out of the house, and getting to see new people. He’d always been a social person, even before becoming a child, but that certainly amplified his social need. This was part of the reason Dean and Cas wanted to get out of the bunker in the first place. Now that they were actually in a position for him to make friends his age, they were certainly going to make that a priority. Dean had noticed that there were more than a few kids Jack’s age in his walk around the neighborhood earlier that day.

The hours before the gathering came faster than expected. Everyone was in a rush to change into nicer clothes and make themselves not look like they’d been putting together furniture all day. (they had, but it was the act of making themselves presentable that matters in this case.) After all, weren’t first impressions the most important? Dean hadn’t really taken account the need for nice clothes this early on in his endevour, so the nicest things he had were a button down and his spare pair of jeans. Not that anyone else was much better off. Claire was wearing a skirt with a jean jacket and combat boots, Jack didn’t change at all seeing as he didn’t see the need, and who were they to argue. Cas was probably the most normal looking of them all, with his blue suit jacket paired with some jeans.

#pspspsps you want to reblog my fic #dean winchester #castiel #claire novak #spn fanfiction #spn #supernatural #jack kline

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen​.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

#spn #15.20 #spoilers #recap #tv recaps

[smol-and-grumpy]

Cross My Heart - CH.07

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x Reader; Chuck Shurley x Reader

Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?

Warnings: NSFW, jealous Dean (a little?)

WC: 3441

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Also, I still think that sometimes, things happen for a reason.”

 Y/N let his words sink in. 

Maybe Dean’s right. Maybe if she wouldn’t have married Chuck and Chuck wouldn’t have been such an asshole, nobody would have sent her threats, and Chuck wouldn’t have gotten her a bodyguard. That would have meant that she would have never met Dean. She would be doomed to stay in a loveless marriage until the end of her days without knowing that there are good people out there, people who wouldn’t want to hurt her. People who want the best for her, people who protect her and maybe people who love her.

She watches him empty his whiskey but he doesn't touch his second one. He probably needs a clear head and besides, he still needs to drive them home. He sets his empty glass down, toys with it, twirls it in his hand before he abandons it and turns his face back to her.

His hand goes up to his cap on her head, and he’s smiling, “You look cute,” He then turns the cap around, so it sits backwards on her head, “Even cuter now.” He purses his lips to a grin and his dimples are showing. 

Her cheeks heat up a little more, and it’s definitely not the effect of the alcohol in her bloodstreams.

Dean trails his knuckles along her cheek, lingers on the place where Cas has left a kiss. He sighs, “Listen, if I should do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, alright? My job is to protect you and I can’t do that if you don’t feel comfortable around me.”

“Okay,” She nods her head.

He smiles at her, his crinkles deep, “Good.” Dean leans forward, kisses her cheek, his lips lingers on the place where Cas kissed her just moments before.

Her heart races, the sound of it filling her ears and that’s the only thing she hears right now. The chatter of the people, the music in the background, all is gone. All she sees is Dean’s smirk and all she feels is a burning sensation on her cheek. 

Suddenly, though, the music gets louder, jerking her out of her trance. There’s a shift in the atmosphere of the bar and she quite likes that. They’re all cheering and laughing, drinking and shouting, and some of them are starting to dance. 

“Hey, Y/N, you want to dance?” Cas comes to stand next to her, reaches out a hand for her to take, he’s smiling from ear to ear. 

“No, she doesn’t.” Dean’s voice rolls rough and deep, it cuts right through her train of thought. 

“I think she can answer that by herself, no?” Cas says in a playful tone of voice. Cas obviously knows Dean very well and knows just the right thing to say to push at Dean’s buttons. She also knows that it’s a way for Cas to show her that Dean indeed cares for her.

“If she dances, then it’s with me.” Dean answers, in the same tone that says so much as, what I say is final. 

“Fair enough,” Cas says with a shrug, and winks at her subtly before he turns away. 

Dean didn’t see it because he only looks at her, “So, you wanna dance?”

“Do you?” She grins. She doesn’t really think that Dean’s a dancer. 

“I normally don’t,” He states, “But if you want to, we can.”

It’s also something new, something she still has to get used to. Never has anyone done anything just to keep her happy. Chuck certainly didn’t. It was all about him all the time, never about her. 

“No, I actually don’t want to,” she says and she can hear Dean letting out a grunt. 

It’s a white lie. She likes to dance, but she doesn’t want Dean to go out of his way for her.

“Thank god,”

“I’m a terrible dancer.” She smirks, “So, I’m saving you some sore feet.” 

Dean laughs at that. It’s a beautiful sound. The crinkles show around his eyes, he’s truly enjoying her company and that, she thinks, is great.

“What do you think? Time to go home?” He asks after a while of watching people dance and after she downed his extra glass of whiskey.

She still shudders at the burn, “Yeah.”

 *

 This time when they arrive at the cabin, there’s nobody waiting for them. 

Dean unlocks the door and they step in. She takes off her shoes and Dean too walks around in shocked feet. 

“You want anything to eat?” He’s already walking into the kitchen and takes a bottle of water out of the fridge. He comes in again and all she can do is to grin stupidly at him. He takes a sip, holds it out for her with a frown, “What?”

“You wanna dance?” She asks and Dean almost snorts out the water in his mouth.

“Now?”

“Yeah,” She’s smiling, downs half of the water bottle by herself before she hands it back to him. 

“Here?”

“Duh,”

Dean empties the water bottle and walks back into the kitchen to throw it into the sink while she moves the table. 

He comes out again and looks at her with amusement in his eyes while he leans against the door frame, watching her move the table and the chairs, his arms crossed over his chest, “You okay there?”

“Yeah, it’d be faster if you’d help me.” 

“You have had way too much to drink,” Dean scoffs but he walks over, helps her push the table to the side and moves both of the chairs away like they weigh fucking nothing. 

When he’s done Dean stands awkwardly in the room, his hands akimbo, “We don’t have music, you know that right?”

She only smiles at him as she goes to stand before him and places her one hand on his shoulder. 

Dean sighs before he lifts up one hand and lets her place her hand in his, “You’d tell me if you smell burned toast, don’t you?”

She snorts out a laugh at that, “Relax, let’s dance.”

He sneaks his hand around her waist and they move together in silence. She places her head on his chest, hears Dean’s steady heartbeat that seems to speed up the longer they are moving together. 

Y/N looks up to him and smiles, “You’re not bad.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Dean snorts, and adds, “I take it as a compliment.”

“It is.” She whispers, and then she takes her hand out of his and moves them up, hooks both of them around Dean’s neck. 

He hugs his arms around her waist in return. 

“Thanks for taking me out, I needed it.” She says, stands on her tip toes and places a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Dean looks at her with a startled expression at first but then, his face softens, “You’re welcome.” And then he adds, “Did you have fun?”

She chuckles, “Yeah, I did.”

He hugs her just a little tighter, his fingers spanning over the side of her body, “You know, I thought it wouldn’t affect me but to tell you the truth? I hated seeing people flirt with you.”

Y/N pulls back a little and looks Dean in the eye, “Who was flirting with me?”

“Cas.”

“Oh,” She laughs, “Cas didn’t flirt with me.”

“That’s actually not the point.” Dean goes on, and she moves her arms to wrap them around his waist, and presses her face back on his chest. She loves how the bass of his voice sounds inside of him when he talks to her. 

“What is the point then?” 

“The point being, that I thought I could ignore my feelings. That I could keep things professional between us, and I know I really wanted to, but you kind of throw all my morals out the window. You’re hard to resist.”

She looks up and grins, “How hard?”

There’s his eye roll and then he sighs before pushing a hand between them and places it on her chin while he tilts her face up to look at him. “You felt it too, didn’t you? The awkwardness in the beginning? I was fucking hard all the time and that’s the reason why I needed to avoid you. You’re my job and I’m usually a professional bodyguard.”

“Oh,” Yeah, she remembers him storming out of the room as soon as she enters, “Well, how hard are you now?” Y/N looks up at him with a teasingly grin, cocks her eyebrows before pressing her body flush to his, and she chuckles when she feels how hard he is. 

“So,” He leans down a little to peck her nose, “Fucking,” Leaves another peck on her lips, “Hard.” He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips before he kisses her. It’s hot and hungry, it leaves her head spinning.

The kiss is equally rough like the first one they shared, all tongues and teeth, all sloppy wet and she moans into his mouth while he lifts her up by the back of her thighs. She throws her arms around his neck, wraps her legs around his middle, and hooks her feet around his back as he continues to kiss her and walks with her to the bedroom. 

Dean’s capable with his fingers, alright, because as soon as he drops her down on her feet, he starts to work on the button of her shorts, even without looking because his eyes are closed as he still kisses himself stupid on her. He doesn’t wait until she drops the pants, instead his fingers skim over her stomach and he bites on her bottom lip, making her yelp up. 

His other hand pulls her closer by the back of her neck and she can’t help but moan out his name.

“What do you want?” He asks when she hears her pleading gasps. 

“More,”

“Yeah?” Dean chuckles, kisses her jaw, nibbles down her throat as his hands find a way inside of her panties, fingers rubbing against her clit. 

Before she can say that she wants even more, Dean picks her up and throws her onto the bed. She laughs when her head hits the pillow. 

His hands grab at her socks, pulling them off before trailing them further up, leaving a burning sensation on her skin in their wake.

He hooks his fingers into her shorts, takes them off and throws them somewhere. She doesn’t know where, not that she really cares. Dean lays down after, shouldering himself between her thighs and begins to kiss his way up, inching closer to where she needs him the most. 

“Dean,” She lets out a whimper, her hands soon find his head, threads her fingers through the thick of his hair. 

Dean chuckles, kisses at her heat through her panties. Tongue licking and sucking at the already soaked fabric. He moans audibly before he hooks one finger inside the crotch of her panties and pulls it aside. 

And then— 

He pauses for a long time. 

“Dean,” She braces herself up on her elbows to look at him.

He doesn’t hear her, and she can feel his gaze burning over her already hot cunt. 

Dean blinks and she can see that he’s back. He chuckles, “Fuck, such a pretty pussy,” He presses a finger to the hood of her clit, massages circles on it, “What do you want, baby? You gotta tell me.”

He’s still rubbing slowly, making her arch her back. What should she say, really. She’s never been good at telling what she wants in bed. Chuck never asked. It’s mostly been about him. She’s not used to it being all about her. 

His hot breath hits her core, “Tell me,” He whispers, his eyes are intense, predatory, “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you everything, I just want you to say it.” His voice raspy, she can feel it vibrating throughout her body.

“I— I want you,” She just says, and blushes. She knows full well that it’s probably not as dirty as he would like to hear but this is all new to her, for god’s sake!

“You’re so fucking cute,” He chuckles and lowers his mouth to her cunt, licks a broad stripe through her center, tongue parting her lips to tickle at her sensitive nub.

She writhes underneath him and he hooks his hand around her thighs, spreads her wide while his hands both meet on her lower stomach to keep her in place. “Fuck,”

Dean chuckles against her pussy, hums while he sucks and it’s the best feeling. She’s never felt anything like it. 

He buries his face deeper into her cunt, licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. Like it really is something fucking delicious. 

Her toes start to curl and her legs tremble. Her hands fly around his head and she grabs at his hair for purchase while she pushes her cunt against his face. Dean hums some more and sucks harder when he feels her shaking all around him.

“Dean, I— I’m—” She chokes out, doesn’t really know what she’s saying, doesn’t hear herself or anything at all, for that matter.

Dean pauses to whisper, “Come, baby. Be a good girl and come for me,” 

That really does the trick because she’s convulsing around him, shaking and moaning, shouting out his name when she comes all over his face.

Wow. She thinks she blacked out for a while and when she opens up her eyes again, Dean’s staring at her, a cocky grin on his face.

“Jesus, you taste so fucking sweet,” He comes up after he lets her ride her orgasm out on his face, kisses along her stomach and then abruptly pushes himself away and off the bed. 

Y/N laughs when she comes down from her high, right on time to watch Dean hastily taking off his plaid and pulling his shirt off his body. 

He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants quickly and lets it drop down before stepping out of them. He proceeds to take off his socks and almost falls flat on his face. 

“Very graceful,” She teases him. 

Dean looks at her grumpily, “Ha ha. Shut up,” He drops his underwear with a downwards swipe, revealing his rock hard cock that stands erect and that really shut her up. 

She’s pulling at her own panties, takes them off as well, and that in turn, shut him up, too.

Climbing back to bed, he kneels and pulls her up, manhandles her onto his lap and she likes that. Likes how easy he can maneuver her around.

Y/N hooks her arms around his neck and he kisses her deep and rough, while he strokes his dick along her slit. She tastes herself on his tongue, something she’s never tasted before.

He bites down on her bottom lips before he breaks the kiss to mumble something that sounds awfully like, “Fuck,”

“What?” She pants against his mouth.

“We shouldn’t,” He pecks her lips again, “I don’t have a condom. Never thought I’d need them.”

She chuckles, making him raise his eyebrow at her. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s okay, I have an IUD.”

Dean groans, kisses her again while he threads his cock up and down her slit, her cum slicking the way, “We don’t have to, you know that, right? I— I just— Fuck,”

She laughs into his mouth, “Dean, relax, we’re good.”

“Thank god,” He whispers, but he doesn’t push it in, instead he teases her some more, “What do you want? Tell me, baby.”

Baby.

God, she loves hearing it out of his mouth.

She gets bold, swallows her shyness and smirks a little, “I want you to fuck me,”

Dean lets out a moan before he claims her mouth again and pushes in, she lowers herself a little too, meeting him halfway and fuck, he’s filling her so good, stretching her better than anyone ever could.

“Jesus, you’re so tight, fuck.” He claims her mouth while he helps her bounce on his lap, “Don’t think I’ll last long, you feel too good.” His hands finds the seam of her top, pulls it over her head before he unhooks her bra with capable fingers and she throws them all away somewhere.

Y/N hooks her arms back around his neck, pulls him closer as Dean buries his face in the cleft of her tits. He licks and sucks at her skin on his way to a nipple. Seals his lips around it and sucks at one before he lets it out with a pop, only to claim the other one. 

He then trails his mouth along her cleavage, while he fucks her faster, tongue licking up a trail to her throat before he sucks at her bottom lip. His wide tongue invades her mouth, mapping out the inside. 

She bounces now too, using her hips to grind down on him while he fucks up. 

“Baby, I’m close,” Dean nibbles at her chin before he moves, and suddenly, she finds herself flat on her back while he pushes her legs up by the back of her knees, almost folding her in half. 

He’s panting hard, “Touch yourself, can you do that for me, baby? Come with me, I want to feel you come on my cock.”

God, he talks dirty, it makes her light headed. She can see his whole body move, his skin damp, his muscle flexing. He looks fucking delicious.

Y/N wets her fingers with her saliva and places them on her clit, rubs along in wild and fast circles. It’s not long before she tenses, because he pushes at all the right buttons on the inside.

“I’m gonna come,” Dean’s squeezes his eyes shut while he tries not to lose it too early, “I wanna come inside of you so bad.”

She rubs at her clit harder, her other hand kneads at her tit, “You can, I want you to, please,”

Dean’s eyes fly open, and he frowns, but he still fucks her in a fast pace, “What?”

“Yeah,” She bites down on her own lips, her toes start to curl up, “Fuck, I’m coming again.”

He uses her bliss to drape himself over her, smashing his mouth against hers, kissing at her open mouth, and groans into it as he releases himself inside of her. She thought it’s a myth but she could feel his sticky cum coating the insides of her pussy.

Dean is still rocking into her after his high, sprays kisses all over her face, “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,”

She agrees. Not that she is perfect, more that he is. She’s never had mind blowing sex before, not like this. How could she not? How could she stay with an asshole when there are people around who could make her feel wanted? Who could make her feel like she’s perfect? 

It was the best sex she’s ever had. And my god, she’s addicted already.

He kisses her forehead, her nose, chuckles lightly and then he manhandles her up into his lap and walks on his knees until they reach the edge of the bed. He then steps out of the bed, carries her into the bathroom while he’s still logged inside.

 *

 After the shower, where he fucked her against the wall without even slipping out of her first, Dean dresses her into her sleep shirt and tucks her into bed. It’s the shirt he threw in her face a couple of nights ago. He then gets into fresh underwear himself and throws her a new pair of panties. 

They need to be dressed all the time, apparently. Dean doesn’t put on a shirt though, decides to stay in his pj pants.

She already thought that he’s going to sleep on the couch when she sees him walking out into the living room but Dean only returns with his gun and phone, places them on the nightstand and slips into bed next to her.

He spreads his arm, letting her climb in and then presses a kiss on her temple. “‘M sorry,”

She frowns, “For what?”

“Being unprofessional.”

“You aren’t.” She reassures him, “You’re still protecting me.”

“I do. ‘M not gonna stop.”

She smiles, nudges her face against his scruff, “That’s good.”

 *

 They get woken up by the sound of bullets banging against the outside wall of the cabin. A window smashed and then the bullets made their way inside. One by one. It’s not a machine gun, so at least there’s that.

“Y/N, bathroom! Now! Lock yourself in!” 

CH.08

#cross my heart #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #bodyguard!dean #nathalie writes

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #5

summary: In which George wants to get married. But… you’re not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Here it is! The end. This was such a fun, sweet, comforting little story to write. This month has been hell and I'm so so sorry it took me longer than planned to get this finished. But I can say with 98% confidence that I'm ready to be back in action! Boxer!George should be coming out soon for sure. I'm so thankful to all you lovelies who've stuck around for this easy breezy fic.

w/c: 2k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You have to tell him, you know that. The longer you go on feeling so attached to him, the fiercer you realize that he needs to know. It's not your goal to see how long you can wait until something blows up and gets ruined in the process. Because something surely will, if you linger too long. But every time you gathered your nerves to try to come out and say it, the words get  stuck in your throat.

George would get a call from his agent seconds before you planned to storm into the living room and demand his attention. So you just kept bustling toward the kitchen, like you'd only been craving leftovers so ravenously.

When you pulled him aside during his family's weekend dinners, his sister would interrupt, begging for advice, or demanding you team up for some board game that couldn't ever wait. And when you got home, and Geogre asked if everything was alright, you'd lost all the nerve to say how you were really feeling.

And then, before your eyes, life forced you apart. Well, as far as you could split while remaining close as ever.

Your job became less of a second home and more like some sort of twisted sleep away camp. You couldn't remember a time you'd worked with such fervor. Maybe you'd only agreed to pick up your careers pace as some sort of torturous distraction. But you were quick to complain about how badly you'd rather be home watching trashy reality shows with your best friend.

George wasn't there, anyway. He was off filming some indie flick several towns away. The house was dark when you came home, void of bustle and whatever excitement that usually awaited when you passed through the door.

You went on for a month missing him. You went on for a month grossly surprised by how empty the space felt without Geogre. How empty you felt. It didn't help when ladies at the market and neighbors down the road asked after your husband. Sometimes, you'd forget the promise you'd made to each other. Some times you'd stare at your ring, afraid it didn't belong on your finger. Afraid someone else deserved to share in life so vastly with the guy you'd been close with for longer than some distant family members; or friends who made passing promises to stick around forever.

You thought of calling Dean and asking what to do. But you knew he was off with his own love. And this was something you'd have to figure out on your own, for both you and Geogre.

When he finally got home, you were too relieved to have him back to ruin anything. Too happy to waste days off taking walks along the waterfront together. Too content to hear his clattering about the kitchen in the mornings to disrupt the way of things. You asked often of his time away, of the friends he'd made. Geogre told you all his saved up stories on days you demanded off, trying to feel like less of a cog in the machine, and more at home in your own home.

Geogre made it easy to forget how confused he made you feel. Geogre was all laughs, head thrown back as you mucked about in the warm weather. He was silly questions shrouded in serious tones. He was quiet as the sun set while you read different books in the same room. He was everything that you'd come to adore. He was everything you were so afraid of losing, that you pushed yourself away from clinging too.

And when you went back to work, you blamed the long shifts and on your endless headaches. You'd blame your coworkers and the late hours on why you felt so bad. But work was nothing. Work was the closest thing to peace and quiet you had when your thoughts stuck on loop, echoing Georges name.

You'd get back home at the end of everyday and your heart would leap out of your chest at the sight of your best friend lounging on the sofa. You'd get home and Geogre would twirl you right back out for a spontaneous night on the town. Your stomach would flip when his hand met the small of your back in crowded pubs and on long walks home.

And even in crowded spaces when your favorite songs happened to blare from speakers and some mutual friends stood outside to share an hour long alley way chat, you still couldn't shake the dread sinking in your stomach and weighing you down.

And, of course, Geogre noticed. He lingered in the door way of your room as you switched out the lights for the evening, and asked you to tell him what was wrong. He spoke low and sweetly, insisting he wasn't turning down the hall until you fessed up to what was on your mind. When you still couldn't, he started guessing...

"Your job?" He wondered, knowing it was bound to turn your hair grey before mother nature got her natural say. He wondered after your family. He asked about your friends.

"I... I haven't done something have I?" George worried, suddenly. Your heart sank as you watched his eyes go dim under furrowed brows.

"No." You shook your head sorrily. "No Geogre, I'm sorry. I just really need to get some sleep, okay?"

He watched you with those big sad blue eyes as you shut the door to your room. The image of his worried expression remained in your head as you tossed and turned all night long.

Geogre was all you thought about till your alarm went off. He's all you saw on your drive to your job, and the only thing in the back of your mind as you moved through the motions of your work day. You broke the speed limit on the way home. Because You know he'd be there. You knew he'd greet you warmly. And above all things, you knew your time was up.

When you finally made it past the welcome mat of your entry way, you dropped your bags near the coat rack when you noticed George. He was sat cozily, scribbling away at some script. His focus would usually remain unbroken during such a task, but now, he turned his gaze up toward you with a small grin and a basic welcome home. Against your better judgment, and instead of willing out a simple hello, something broke. The dam holding back all your built up thoughts and feelings snapped under the weight of Georges soft gaze, and sprung tears to your eyes.

You stood stone still, willing your eyes to stop welling up with every bit of strength you had left.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Why are you crying." George tossed his script aside and moved to approach you. You watched in a watery sheen as he stalled before you with an arm reached out, as if to gesture you be the one to close the space.

"I've broken a rule." You admitted through your teeth, your jaw clamped shut in every effort to keep the last of you from falling apart. You watched Georges pretty face , his sea coloured eyes locking on to yours, prepared for the worst, it seemed; prepared to listen to whatever it was.

"I'm in love with someone." You spoke, struggling to hold back the waver in your voice.

"Okay." George softly responded, still frozen in place in front of where you had frozen all the same. His eyes shifted across your features, waiting for the penny to drop. Waiting for everything to change. These were the last moments you got of the reality you'd come to know and love. Maybe that was why you were still quiet, afraid of the transition. You watched Geogre seem to decide between one thousand responses before killing the silence by asking, "With who?"

In a shocking display of bravery you blurted out the answer as if you'd been ready to say it forever, even though it felt like the scariest thing you've ever had to do.

"It's obviously you." You cried, tears bursting through your will power to hold them in, pathetic sounds escaping your throat.

"Then... why're you crying?" Geogre asked, softly still. His curious gaze had grown even more perplexed, head cocked in confusion as he drifted a minuscule amount closer.

"We never wrote out a rule for this." You cried harder, hanging your head in your hands. How could something so terrifying feel like a weight off your shoulders?

You felt George reach out to you, either of his hands on your elbows. You wiped your eyes in time to watch as he gently pulled you along on his way toward the kitchen. You floated along, trying to pull yourself together for whatever chat that was about to take place.

Geogre was deadly quiet as he halted you near a row of cupboards. You leaned against them as Geogre turned and crossed to the other side of the room. You were still focused on remembering how to breathe, so much so that you didn't notice what Geogre was up to until he's almost finished.

"What are you doing?" You asked in a hoarse whisper. Geogre was leaning against the opposite counter space with a pencil in his hand. He locked eyes with you for a second that felt like forever before looking back down to whatever he'd just written. Then he started taking small steps closer to you as he started reading...

rules for falling in love:

one. do it.

two. throw away the other rules.

three. go on a big ridiculous anniversary trip every year as originally planned.

You listened on, each word adding up the perfect formula to make your head spin. The tears that felt so hot and bitter on their recent escape were now only shed out of relief as you tried to wrap your head around what Geogre was saying. It was only when he glanced up from his words that you knew he wasn't just trying to make you feel better. He was serious.

George tossed aside the little grey notebook as your flung your arms around his neck, crying out the last of every built up feeling you'd stored away for so long. He held onto you, one hand secure on your back, the other tangled in your hair, while your cries turned to chuckles of disbelief.

"I'm glad you said something." Geogre mumbled into your hair as you clung to him. "I've been trying for months."

"What?" You laughed, pulled away to shoot Geogre a look. He brushed the last of the tears from under your eyes and spoke up again.

"I mean... I just really couldn't pin down the right time to tell my wife how desperately in love with her I've fallen. It's quite the pickle we'd found ourselves in you know?"

You laughed, somehow feeling the exact opposite of the way than you had been the last month or so, all because of Geogre.

"You make everything better."

"I can make it better yet." Geogre spoke in a hush, before leaning in to kiss you. It wasn't the kind of first kiss that sent lightning through your veins, or a thunder through your heart. It was the kind of kiss that calmed to storm already raging within you. Georges lips were as warm as sunlight, melding perfectly against yours.

It seemed like hours wasted away in the dark of the kitchen, kissing him. You'd never felt more at home.

///

It didn't take long for you to switch bedrooms. Half of your clothes were already mixed in Georges closet from back when you'd ran out of space in your own. You moved a couple picture frames and pillows about, and turned the guest room back to its original form in the matter of a couple of days. You joked how all the hard bits were over. Your things had been moved, and your name had been changed.  All that was left to do was enjoy each other completely.

It was easy to be in love with Geogre, with the way he was so taken with you. It was easy to sit even closer together, and fight over what to watch, like always. It was even more of a comfort reach back to Geogre when he reached out to you. The best part was, nothing was news to the people who knew you. They didn't bat an eye when Geogre kissed you goodbye, hello, or just because.

And as giddy as a school girl as you were to waste days off with your lips pressed together, it didn't take much getting used too. Kissing George was like drinking a gallon of water after being stranded in Sahara heat, the water cooler always just out of reach. His kisses were full of all the things there weren't words for. Full of love and lust and longing that had no name, or glare powerful enough to trade.

George's lingering touches were something to marvel. No longer did he let his hand drift away after reaching out to give you some kind of comfort. His finger laces through yours and held on through movies and long walks. His arm fit around your waist to keep you near, wherever you were. He was still just as private as he pulled you along red carpets and behind scenes. But the both of you were certain and proud to belong together, whenever any one asked.

And you were still always right on time for Sunday dinner. Because even when some things changed for better or worse, somethings stayed the way they were always meant too. You still brought along flowers and wine and knickknacks each weekend you were welcomed into the family home. It was a tradition you just couldn't let break, even when you showed up to George's parent's place to attend a celebration in your very own honor.

You and Geogre had been married for a whole year. Which meant Dean and Claire had been seeing each other for just as long. They were invited to Geogre's parents garden too, because they'd made more than enough Sunday brunch to celebrate the milestone.

You were snug against George's side, sipping spiked punch in the warm afternoon, when Claire and Dean showed up. You'd made quite the tradition of spending as much time together as possible. From roadtrips to midnight milkshake runs, the four of you mucked about like the cast of some outdated afterschool special. It was only natural that their presence at your party was a must.

George's father meandered out to the garden, clapped Dean on the back and yammered about how the lad was like family. George's mother showed up, laying out sweets before jumped in with eager agreement.

"You two are my only hope for grandchildren, you know?" She pointed, almost joking, but you knew she really wasn't. So you weren't very shocked when Geogre spoke up,

"Well we've sort of changed our minds about that."

You'd been talking about it. Because you sure as hell weren't going to become a parent without writing out a few rules first. This was how things always had always gone with you and George. You'd talk about it, go about it, then you'd share the news.  "Oh, we're going away for the weekend." -"Oh, were living together now." -"Oh, we're getting married." -"Oh, we got married." -"Oh, yeah... we're gonna start a family." If any major life even happened in any other fashion, you might not have lasted so long as a pair. And you were certain you'd keep on that way, together.

You stayed lounged happily at your husband's side while his mother dramatically praised the heavens. His sister spun into her usual hysterics, while George's father laughed at the scene from the sidelines, after giving the pair of you a silly thumbs up. Claire shot you a wink before saving you from everyone's theatrical attention, shifting discussion to her recent travels.

When Dean shifted to reach for some of the desserts rested in the middle of your gathering, he shot you a look. It was a glare similar to the expression he gave you when you stayed sea side, shortly after getting married. Dean didn't need to say "I told ya so" but you could tell he desperately wanted too. So you flashed your middle finger his way and let yourself laugh as he feigned offense, before settling in to listen to his lady tell a story.  

You were already settled. Already happy. Finally right where you belonged, in the place you adored with all the people who loved you as much as you loved them. You decidedly wouldn't have traded the way things went for the world, because you figured you and Geogre belonged together, no matter the rules.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes​ @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver​ @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno​ @nilletellsstories @loulouloueh @visionsofmelodrama @haileymorelikestupid

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

[holycafe]

Dean felt flushed and nervous as he was passed the microphone. He’d had everyone’s eyes on him all day, and that had been bad enough, but this time felt different. Because now it was time for his speech, and speaking from the heart wasn’t always something Dean was good with. And he didn’t think he’d ever so much as tried it in public before.

But he wasn't going to let that hold him back tonight. He stood there beside the three-tiered cake – which, yes, okay, Dean wasn’t a huge fan of cake really; but this one did look pretty amazing, so props there – surrounded by all of his friends and family, and cleared his throat as he began to speak.

“You know, when I proposed to Cas, we weren’t exactly looking at going the whole big family wedding and reception kind of route. But none of you would let us run off to elope in Vegas in front of an Elvis impersonator, so here we are.” That joke had the added bonus of being 100% true.

Dean thought on the moment of the proposal fondly now; it had been early in the morning, only a few days after getting Cas back from the Empty. Dean hadn’t slept much that first week. Not because he and Cas were doing it like rabbits (though, yeah, that was kind of true too), but because he was just too happy to sleep. His mind refused the shut-off.

On this particular morning, Dean had been awake for hours, just watching Cas sleep. Watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the heavy sighs which escaped his lips, admiring the flutter of his eyelids and the occasional curve to his lips as he dreamt. They hadn’t put a name to what they were at that point, and Cas had been okay with that, but it had been bugging Dean. So, that morning, he just lay there and struggled to figure it out. And it was a struggle. Because ‘lover’ was technically true, but it felt too flippant. ‘Partner’ was too… stale. Dean didn’t like it. However, ‘boyfriend’ seemed too juvenile, seeing everything they had been through together.

But ‘husband’… that one felt right.

So, when Cas woke up, Dean immediately got down on one knee and popped the question. And after spending another couple of hours wrapped up together, they showered, packed some clothes, and went to invite Sam, and Mary, and whoever else was around that morning, to see them get hitched.

But his brother had then quite literally stolen the keys to the Impala to keep them from leaving. He’d spent the next few hours talking them into agreeing to this instead.

“Truthfully, I’m kinda glad that Sammy put his foot down about that, though,” Dean admitted. “As hunters, we get a bit too used to operating under the radar, but some things need to be celebrated. And when you got a man like Cas under your arm… you know, he’s worth showing off.”

Dean looked at Cas and winked.

“And today’s been pretty fun, actually,” continued lightheartedly. “Even better than that time I killed Hitler.”

Everyone in the room groaned; they’d probably heard that story enough now, but Dean wasn’t done telling it so who cared?

Though, today, it didn’t bring quite the same excitement as it normally did. Today, the only story Dean actually wanted to tell, the only one to bring a flutter to his chest, was the one about him and Cas.

Dean smiled wider and turned to look at him again, at his husband.

He reached out and took Cas’ hand, pulling him closer so he could get a better look at those beautiful blue eyes. Dean would have thought that, after all the time he’d lost staring into them, he would be fed up with it by now. He wasn’t. He never would be.

“But I mean it, I’m glad to be here with you now, Cas,” Dean admitted, his eyes tracing the smile on his husband’s lips. “I’m glad that we’re celebrating this, that we’re doing it the right way. I’m glad to have you by my side, and in my arms, and tell you all the sappy shit I’ve always wanted to. Like…” Dean had to pause to take a deep breath, feeling his emotions begin to claw at his throat. But he wanted to say this. He wanted to say it all. So, he just cleared his throat and continued. “Like how I’ve been in love with you for so long, that I don’t even remember what not loving you feels like.”

That received an aww from the guests surrounding them. Though, considering pretty much everyone here was a hunter, it was mostly in jest rather than sincerity. Dean ignored it. This moment wasn’t for them.

Cas was grinning up at him, his happiness sparkling in those beautiful eyes, and Dean wanted to just lean down and kiss him.

But he wasn’t done yet.

He had one last thing to say.

“We’ve only been together for a couple of months,” Dean continued, “but it already feels like I’ve spent a lifetime with you. And I’ll gladly spend a lifetime more.”

And now they could kiss. So, they did. Dean leant over into Cas’ embrace, meeting his lips, and pulling him all the closer.

They received several wolf whistles for their efforts.

When they pulled apart again, Dean glared at his guests for the interruption, and they all just laughed.

Cas didn’t bother to pull away as he took the microphone from Dean. He kept one arm wrapped around Dean’s waist at all times and stood so close that he was practically leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“I met Dean when I pulled him out of Hell,” Cas started talking, addressing the crowd. “As far as ‘meet-cutes’ go –” he emphasised the words by making quotation gestures, made more awkward as he was holding the mic and refused to pull away to talk, and Dean rolled his eyes “– I’ve been informed that’s a rather good one.”

While everyone was laughing, Dean grinned. “We’re the best damn love story ever told, man.” He said it quietly, whispered it into Cas’ ear, so close that he brushed his nose against the hairs on Cas’ head. Obviously, no one else overheard him, but it wasn’t meant for them, only for Cas.

Cas grinned as he continued. “Before I first spoke to Dean, I spent much of my time feeling lost. I was… a good soldier, but not much more. I had brothers and sisters, I had a father, but I didn’t have a family until I met you,” Cas said, turning to face him, and Dean pressed a short kiss against his cheek. He loved his sappy little angel. “That was when my whole life changed.”

You changed me, Dean.

Dean’s heart clenched at the reminder of Cas’ last greatest goodbye speech. It was both beautiful and painful.

“From the moment that I first knew you, you filled my life with love.”

Everything you have ever done, you’ve done for love.

Dean almost wanted to tell him to stop. To tell him that he couldn’t hear this again. But he didn’t because perhaps that was exactly why Cas was saying it. The only other time that Cas had told him this, it had been moments before the Empty appeared and swallowed him up, taking him from Dean before he’d even had the time to process it.

But Cas didn’t want the words to sit with him like that; he wanted Dean to remember them in a different light.

So, when Cas paused, looking deep into his eyes as though asking for permission to continue, Dean nodded.

“Because that’s just the kind of man you are,” Cas said. “You’re caring, and thoughtful, and you are the most loving man I have ever met. Knowing you made me want to be a better person. Knowing you gave my whole existence meaning.

“For the past twelve years, I’ve fought by your side. I’ve fought heaven, and hell, and everything in between. I’ve chosen you over everyone and everything, again and again, Dean. And I will continue to do so for the rest of my life.”

“You’re a sappy son of a bitch, you know that, Buddy?” Dean said, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

“I’m aware,” Cas grinned. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

This time, when they kissed, there were no taunts, only smiles and applause.

Extract taken from my latest destiel wedding fic ~ Chapel of Love by PiePrincess_andthe_FallenAngel.

I really liked paraphrasing the 15x18 confession scene here as it felt like Dean needed to hear it again, but in a happier moment. I hope you guys enjoyed it too

#destiel roadhouse wedding #season 16 time for a wedding #deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel winchester #misha collins #jensen ackles #destiel drabble #destiel fic #supernatural #spn

[wernerherzogs]

ok so. supernatural episodes 13.01-13.06 is like. cas died at the end of the previous season (doesn’t matter why. that’s not why we’re all here for.) and dean thinks cas is gone For Good and that there is nothing that can be done about it, and sam is like. desperate times, desperate measures, so Have You Tried Praying?, and dean is like. bitch of course i did. 

dramatic cut to dean having SMASHED HIS FIST AGAINST A WALL TILL HIS KNUCKLES BLED because he’d asked god to bring cas back, and god didn’t listen.

please notice how he mentions cas twice (2) before he even mentions his mum. absolute legend.

anyway afterwards dean is MOPING for a few episodes until sam I Don’t Get Paid Enough For This winchester is like. dude please admit you’re Not Handling It Well. Get Some Therapy maybe. and dean is like, I’m Fine. :) What’s Not To Handle Here. :)

also dean:

meanwhile cas is trapped in super turbo mega hell (the empty) where said empty in the form of his doppelganger inflicts psychological warfare on him:

so that’s cool. anyway sam later figures out that a way to bring dean outta his I’m Doing Fine And Not Missing Cas At All :) funk is some brotherly bonding that includes a hunting trip (just the two of them together like in old times!) and sacrifices such as sam googling the best strip clubs in the area that dean can go to and get drunk in. and at the end of it all dean finally admits that FINE. he is NOT doing well, he DOES miss cas, and HE JUST NEEDS A WIN. HE JUST NEEDS A MIRACLE. cut to CAS HAVING ANNOYED THE EMPTY to the point that it RELEASES HIM from super turbo mega hell. at this point we the viewers don’t know they had made a secret Deal about it. :( (eta: ok i have been reliably Informed that the deal happens later in the series, so it really was SHEER ANNOYANCE at cas that had convinced the empty to release him. 10/10 we stan)

HENCE the DRAMATIC REUNION. sam is like,

and dean is like,

in for a DRAMATIC HUG they GO. and cas asks, how long have i been gone? and dean says,

AND HIS VOICE CRACKS.

later dean says to sam: i needed a win, and i got cas back, so <3. that’s his miracle! love wins etc. they all go on a kind of western themed job which makes dean downright GIDDY. this is the way everyone else feels about dean’s Obsession With Cowboys, btw:

castiel: i’ve never met this man before in my life

the next morning cas tells his son (who’s also lucifer’s son. it’s complicated) about his husband’s sleeping habits:

and then they roleplayed together

nothing else happens during those six episodes obviously. this is destiel territory only. tl;dr cas was dead but now he isn’t so dean has put Depression on hold. thanks for your time see you in the next Season 13 Recap Installment

#kasia x spn #supernatural #am i doing this well. #long post #you're all watching with me i guess.

[lesbeet]

wait I would love to know what you think is wrong w oceans 8 I'm v curious I really loved that movie

i’m so sorry in advance but you’re basically getting the word-vomit version of the hypothetical script i would write for this hypothetical video essay so it’s gonna be long lskdjfksjd

but i mean don’t get me wrong i find ocean’s 8 entertaining and i’ve seen it a good number of times, but honestly i kind of consider it like. entertainment junk food lmao

i’ve never seen the original ocean’s eleven that the 2001 remake was based on, but i grew up watching the remake with my dad and i’ve always loved it (i’ve only seen ocean’s 12 and 13 once each and didn’t really care for them, though), so that’s also a factor, but not necessarily in the way you might think

most of the criticism i’ve seen of ocean’s 8 is either 1. along the lines of the criticism disney has (rightfully) been getting for rebooting/remaking/etc all of their older movies just to make money—except considering the 2001 remake is just that, a remake, i feel like that particular critique doesn’t really hold up in this circumstance—or 2. “why do we need a remake with women, this is just ghostbusters all over again, blah blah blah feminism bad” which again like. yes i think the motivation for making the film was more to jump on the trend of #girlboss remakes than anything else, but that doesn’t necessarily result in a bad movie, and i don’t think that was where the movie fell short. in other words, my problem with ocean’s 8 isn’t that it’s a remake, nor that it’s a remake with women

i spent some time this morning watching certain clips from both the 2001 movie and from ocean’s 8, and i think if anything the problem is that ocean’s 8 tried so hard NOT to be a carbon copy of ocean’s 11 that it ended up losing the emotional core that i personally think makes ocean’s 11 so interesting, and more than just a heist film  (ok from here on out i’m just gonna call them 8 and 11 bc the word ocean doesn’t even look like a real word to me anymore)

i like that 8 mixed up (some of) the characters’ roles and personalities in comparison to 11; i would’ve been really annoyed if nine ball, for example, had basically just been a female version of livingston, or if constance had been a female version of linus, etc. my biggest gripe in that department is that they clearly tried to make lou (cate blanchett’s character) the female version of rusty, and she just...does not cut it imo. debbie is hardly a female version of danny, but i don’t think they were as overtly trying to paint her that way, which makes their attempt at framing the debbie-lou friendship as analogous to the danny-rusty friendship seem lazy 

beyond the characters, the writers (et al) of 8 basically had two other aspects of 11 to evaluate, and to decide how similar or different they wanted their version to be: structure/style, and substance. i think they emphasized the former over the latter, and i think that was the mistake

i wouldn’t necessarily always classify structure and style as a singular aspect of a work, but i think in this case it makes sense, if only because those are (imo) the more recognizable aspects of ocean’s 11, and ones that are most readily available for someone wanting to make a parody or homage or remake or whatever—primarily, the plot beats and the stylistic elements like the visual editing and the soundtrack

in vague terms, the plot is almost identical (excluding the bloated ending of 8). the film opens with ocean convincing a parole board to release them from prison, where they’ve spent their entire sentence plotting the heist. then ocean seeks out their blond best friend and tells them about the elaborate heist, blond best friend tells them they’re crazy but is quickly convinced. ocean and blond best friend travel around to collect old associates and/or other recommended con artists. the group plans and prepares the heist. blond best friend finds out that there’s a hidden element of revenge in the plan and confronts ocean. the plan more or less goes forward as it’s been presented to the audience. then it turns out that there was a whole secret plan unbeknownst to the audience, and we get to see how it plays into what we already knew. the heist is pulled off successfully, including the secret revenge plot by ocean against someone who wronged them. (here’s where 8 departs into what i find to be a really slow-moving and unnecessary thing with james corden the insurance man who does nothing lol)

likewise, imo 8′s aesthetic comes across as a fair ~feminine~ met gala equivalent to 11′s vegas aesthetic, including some similar jazzy guitar/bass action in the score, and the screen wipe transitions 

but ocean’s 8 has no substance. that’s the problem.

i referred to a secret revenge plot in my summary, but honestly that’s less my own interpretation than the interpretation i think the writers of 8 were working from. debbie’s secret plot is revenge against whatshisface who wronged her, but danny’s secret plot is to win tess back. he obviously fucks over benedict both romantically and financially in the process, but his primary motivation for everything he does with his heist is to win back the love of his life. 

tbh i probably would’ve been annoyed if they’d made debbie’s secret plot an attempt at winning back an ex bc that’s boring and too on the nose for a remake, but in their attempt at not making a carbon copy of 11, the writers of 8 lost the heart of the story. debbie isn’t doing anything for love. (what i think they should’ve done is had it be related to danny somehow, especially bc they killed him off instead of having george clooney make a cameo for some reason). she’s done all this for money and self-satisfaction and revenge, which makes the emotional stakes more or less nonexistent. 

we want danny’s heist to succeed because we know how much he loves tess and how desperately he wants her back. we’ve seen benedict treat her like shit and even though danny wasn’t the best husband, he obviously truly cares for her and is putting everything on the line to prove it.

the audience has no reason to cheer debbie and her team on aside from like... #girlpower. the rest of the ensemble is made up of pretty flat characters—which is fine, imo, as long as SOMEONE is the emotional backbone of the story. but in ocean’s 8, there’s none.

like honestly i think community’s ocean’s 11 homage episode does a better job of referencing the structure and style of ocean’s 11 while still rooting itself in its own unique pathos (the study group realizing the dean had been kidnapped bc they realized the real dean loved them and would never have expelled them, and subsequently planning their heist to rescue him (and greendale as a whole))

so ocean’s 8 feels like junk food. it’s flashy and fun and entertaining to watch, but there’s no heart. there’s no reason to root for the protagonist and her team beyond the fact that...she’s the protagonist, and it’s her team. it’s empty calories.

#once again i am so sorry i really got carried away lsdfjsdkf #it's been one of those days! #megantheeface #answered

[eruden-writes]

Carry On Redux

Series finale redone. Script format. 

I haven’t been part of the Supernatural fandom for a few years, but just hearing about that series finale chafed.

I literally wrote this in, like, 2 hours. Want better formatting? Find Carry On Redux by Eruden on AO3.

----

FADE IN

INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 Sunlight shines through sheer curtains on a large window. It’s a comfortable room with a mixture of modern and rustic decor. Family pictures hang on the walls and litter just about every flat surface. Most photos depict Sam Winchester and a blonde woman; then the two with a dog; then with children, growing older. Holidays, graduation, school photos, marriage, grandbaby photos.

YOUNG MAN sits on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He wears jeans, a green flannel shirt, and a jacket. His hazel eyes wide and attention rapt.

 YOUNG MAN

So, what happened after that?

 The question is posited to OLD SAM, sitting across a coffee table, in a recliner. He’s still relatively fit, but his hair has greyed and he now sports a bushy beard, reminiscent of Bobby’s. Laugh lines and crows’ feet crease his face. 

 OLD SAM

Well, once Cas sacrificed himself, Dean grieved for awhile. 

He didn’t eat or drink. Wouldn’t even come out of his room for pie!

 At that, Sam chuckles, half-sad and half-amused. 

 INT - MEN OF WORDS BUNKER - LIBRARY 

 Sam sits at a table, eyes on a book and brow furrowed. Beside him, a notebook is open to scrawled notes. Not much can be made out, but words such as The Empty, Angel, Retrieve can be made out. Strewn around him are empty cans and food containers.

Dean enters, slapping his phone onto the table with a loud CLATTER. Sam jumps, eyes snapping to Dean’s face.

 DEAN 

Found us a job.

 Sam looks down at the phone. A news article is splayed on the front about a trucker, found dead with his heart ripped out. 

Sam looks back up at Dean with worry and consternation.

Dean returns the look with unwavering seriousness.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

Just like that, we were back in the family business.

 MONTAGE - VARIOUS 

EXT - DARK FOREST

 Sam and Dean, back to back and holding guns. Trees ring around them, dark and shadowed.

Things seem to be moving between the trees.

One of the brothers shoots. An ungodly SHRIEK echoes. 

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover) 

Hunting things that went bump in the night.

 INT - ABANDONED PLACE

 Dean is stabbing stakes into vampires.

Sam aids a couple sobbing victims, wrapping wounds and ushering them out. 

Through boarded up windows, daylight can be seen streaming in. 

 OLD SAM

(voiceover)

Nothing as remarkable as stopping the apocalypse 

or reuniting God with his sister.

EXT - CEMETERY 

 Sam and Dean digging up a grave. They pour gasoline into the hole and toss in a match.

  OLD SAM

(voiceover) 

But we did whatever needed doing.

 INTERIOR - SUBURBAN LIVING ROOM 

 The Young Man is still sitting with rapt attention on the couch. 

 Old Sam sighs, shaking his head to and fro.

 OLD SAM

That went on for… oh, about five or so years.

 YOUNG MAN

And then?

 Old Sam sadly smiled. 

 OLD SAM

Then Dean died. 

 INT - PENTHOUSE SUITE

 Everything indicates wealth and luxury with rich mahogany wood and deep red palette. A plethora of worldly objects fill the abode: old looking vases, invaluable art, antique guns, a sword on a fireplace mantle. 

A nighttime cityscape can be seen through the large windows; the tops of other buildings can be seen from the vantage point, indicating a great height.

But there are indications of trouble. Broken pieces of furniture strewn about. One of the large windows is cracked. A broken aquarium, tropical fish flopping on the wet carpet. On a table, a corpse lays, stomach ripped out.

Sam and Dean each struggle against two black-eyed, sharp-toothed creatures that hiss and shriek. The creatures wear tattered clothing.

Dean gets thrown into a table, wood splintering and pricey knickknacks shattering. He’s dazed for a beat, before realizing his opponent is baring down on him, jaws inhumanly wide. His hand curls around a broken table leg, shoving it up and into the creature’s mouth. 

A sickening SQUISH is heard as the sharpened end of the legs skewers through the monster’s head. Black blood splashes across Dean and he gags. He quickly hefts the dead creature aside.

When he gets to his feet, he looks around wildly. 

The creature fighting Sam has gotten the upper hand. They cackle, before opening their jaws spread. Row after row of sharp teeth fill their maw. They jerk forward, intent on ripping out Sam’s throat. 

 DEAN

No!

 Suddenly, Dean is there, slamming into the creature’s side. The sword from the fireplace slicing through the creature’s chest.

Dean and the creature slam into the already cracked window. The sword pierces through the glass.

 SAM

Dean!

 The creature lies still. For half a beat, there’s silence. Then Dean’s shoulders ease and he laughs, half-turning to smile at his younger brother. 

Sam eases, too. Though he still looks worried.

Suddenly, the creature SHRIEKS, biting down on Dean’s shoulder. The window CREAKS. 

Dean and the creature fall through the shattered glass. Dean is still half-turned to Sam. They share a look. 

Sam rushes forward, hand outstretched.

 SAM 

No! 

 Time seems to slow. Dean smiles. The night sky is his backdrop.

 DEAN

It’s okay, Sammy.

 Sam stares, eyes wide. Almost disbelieving. 

The shatter window stands empty, framing the night and city. A distant IMPACT is heard, as glass continues to TINKLE.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

In the end, he got what he wanted. A hunter’s death.

 INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 QUIET settles over the room. The Young Man still leans on his knees, somber. 

 OLD SAM

Once Dean died, I did a few more hunts. 

Met Laura during one.

 Old Sam nods to a photo of himself and the blonde woman. 

 OLD SAM

Got a dog together. Had kids. Grew old. 

 He indicates more photos. One of himself and Laura with a dog. Multiple family photos. Photos of the family as they grew. 

 OLD SAM

Got just about everything I wanted. 

 Young Man tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. 

 YOUNG MAN

Just about?

Old Sam smiles fondly.

 OLD SAM

As much of an ass as he was, I still miss my brother. 

I wish he could’ve been here to share my happiness. 

To be my best man, an uncle, a great uncle.

 YOUNG MAN

I think he would’ve liked that. 

 Old Sam gives a sad laugh and looks to the large window. Through the curtains, an obscured view of his street is seen. It’s idyllic and peaceful. 

The front door’s lock CLICKS and the door is pushed open. LAURA enters, a bag in the crook of her arm. She’s older than her photos, with grey in her hair and laugh lines at the corners of her mouth.

 LAURA

Hey, hon. Mary couldn’t stay 

and visit, but she sends her love.

 She walks from the door to the adjoining dining room, crossing the living room right in front of Sam.

 INT - DINING ROOM 

 Laura puts her shopping bag and purse on the dining room table. 

 LAURA

While I was out, I ran into Debbie. She picked up

 some antique thingamajig and thinks it’s haunted.

 She turns to face the living room.

 LAURA

If you don’t mind, do you think you can-

 The easy smile on her face falters. 

 LAURA

Sam?

 She takes a step forward.

 INTERIOR -  LIVING ROOM 

 Laura traverses into the living room. Sam sits in his chair, head bowed and eyes closed. A photo album sits in his lap. Across the room from him, television QUIETLY PLAYS. The Young Man is nowhere to be seen.

 LAURA

Honey?

 She reaches a hand out to his.

Her hand slaps over her lips with a gasp. Her eyes are wide and teary.

Slightly translucent, Old Sam appears beside her. He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers quietly in her ear. Too quiet to be heard. Then, he presses his lips to her cheek.

Laura gasps, turning to face her dead husband. Her hand hovers on her cheek, where his lips touched her. Stunned, blinking back tears, Laura seems to know he’s there. 

 LAURA

(whispers)

Love you, too. 

 EXT - SAM’S HOME

 Old Sam and the Young Man stand on the sidewalk, in front of Sam’s home. The sun shines down, the street is quiet. In the distance, AMBULANCE SIRENS can be heard. 

 OLD SAM 

(staring at the house)

Thank you for waiting. 

 The Young Man scuffs his shoes on the sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets.

 YOUNG MAN

No worries. Got to honor my baby brother’s last wish, right?

 Sam’s attention suddenly snaps to the Young Man. Sam is no longer old.

In the Young Man’s place, Dean stands. He wears similar clothing as the Young Man and a halfcocked smile. 

 SAM

(stunned)

Dean? But… how?

 DEAN

Let’s say Death did me a solid, 

everything considered.

 SAM

I guess you two do have a past.

 Dean laughs and turns toward the street. The Impala is there, shiny and pristine. Dean motions for Sam to follow him with a jerk of his head. 

Behind Sam, the ambulance has arrived. 

 DEAN

I’ll tell you all about it along the way. 

 Sam starts forward as Dean opens the driver side door. In the background, a stretcher is being rolled out from his home, a white sheet around the body.

 SAM

Along the way?

 Sam skirts around the car and opens the passenger side door, settling in. 

 INT - THE IMPALA

 Sam briefly looks around. Inside, Baby looks as it always has. Nothing out of place, nothing rotting. 

Sam reaches for his seat belt.

 CAS

Good to see you, Sam. 

 Sam startles, turning to find the angel sitting in the back seat. 

 SAM

(shocked)

Cas? I thought you were in The Empty. Like forever.

 The angel gives a slight smile and nod.

Dean pats Cas on the hand, giving the angel an exasperated look. As if to say ‘you were supposed to let me handle this.’

Cas dips his head in apology.

Sam turns to Dean, eyebrows raised. He obviously has questions.

 DEAN

(sheepish grin)

I’ll tell you about that on the way, too. 

 Dean turns a key in the ignition, the engine purrs to life. He shifts into gear as they pull away from Sam’s home, where a curious crowd has gathered.

 DEAN

But right now, we’ve got hunting to do. 

 SAM

You can’t be serious. 

 The two brothers share a look. Sam obviously displeased and Dean straight-faced. 

Dean can’t hold the look for long and his expression melts into a smile. He turns his eyes to the road.

 DEAN

Nah, I’m pulling your leg. We got some friends waiting for us.

 SAM

Really? Who?

 DEAN

Ah, y’know, Bobby, Jack, Kevin, Charlie, Adam.

Some others. Heard Jess is gonna be there, too. 

 That causes Sam to sit up straighter.

 SAM

Jess? (eyebrows raise) Like,  my Jess? 

 DEAN

So she says. 

 Sam sits back in his chair, staring ahead. Conflicted expressions play across his face.

He stares outside his window. Outside, the road passes, but a white mist - or perhaps clouds - is slowly consuming the view. 

Dean glances at Sam, slightly concerned.

 DEAN

You okay, Sammy? 

 SAM Yeah. I just… This is a lot to take in. 

 DEAN

(laughs)

Yeah? Well, wait til you hear what I’ve been up to,

Mr. Two-And-A-Half-Kids-And-A-Picket-Fence.

 Sam turns to Dean, an amused smile on his lips. 

 SAM

Is this going to be a long story?

 DEAN

Nah. Not too long. If it was a show, 

I’d say… oh… about fifteen seasons. 

 Sam groans.

 EXT - THE IMPALA

 The Impala glides over a road, lined with a forest. The cloud-mist has just about obscured everything. 

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Hey, I listened to your boring ass life story!

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Which reminds me, why did you even disguise yourself?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

I had my reasons. 

 CAS 

(offscreen)

He wanted to hear what you said about him and if you missed him.

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Seriously, Dean?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Do you want to hear how I saved Cas from The Empty or not?

 RADIO STATIC buzzes on. “Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas” overtakes the static. 

 DEAN

(offscreen)

Oh, come on! 

 CUT TO SUPERNATURAL END CARD

#supernatural #spn #destiel #supernatural finale #spn finale #I'm usually a monster lover writer #so this is highly ironic #lol #But seriously I wrote this really quickly and if the actually paid writers of spn can't do better #then they aren't paying attention to the fans #or actively hate the fans #also available on ao3

[cowboycostume]

15x19 predictions:

15x19 we know has been called the season ending, so we get a resolution on Chuck (and potentially The Empty)

Obviously Dean has to let Jack & Sam know that Cas is gone, potentially over the phone, probably without acknowledging Cas' confession out loud

Which leads to the fact that Jack already knew the details of Cas' deal - so potentially he will tell Sam what the deal was and Sam will draw his own (prob correct) conclusions

Hopefully at least one scene of Sam getting Dean to talk, prob after they team up w Michael and deal with Chuck

If the only people left on Earth are Sam, Dean, Jack, and Michael then whatever that resolution is HAS GOT to involve Chuck bringing the people back

Personally I'd prefer if Dean rescues Cas himself but maybe Chuck does it for him? Unclear.

I would very much love it if we get Dean acknowledging the fact that he is v upset he didn't say it back. Whether this is in prayer or to Sam idc

Finale predictions

Act one is gonna have to be about rescuing Cas/Cas escaping/Dean getting to where Cas is

Some kind of DeanCas conversation about the confession

I doubt there will be a full on kiss, but a girl can dream

More likely an intense hug - maybe a forehead/temple kiss (like in the photoshoot from earlier this year?)

Dean might not say love, but he might reiterate the need in less unclear terms, something about how absolutely wrecked he is whenever Cas is gone - about how he has always wanted Cas to stay

Would love a callback to the Purgatory Prayer - especially if we get Dean actually saying "I love you"

Saileen endgame

Hunter Husbands! Hunter Husbands! Hunter Husbands!

Would also be amenable to a little hurt/comfort in the form of an unconscious human Cas coming out of the Empty and Dean being the sleep uncomfortably in the chair to wait for him to wake up mess that he is.

The ride off into the sunset moment is Dean & Cas riding away from Sam and Eileen's

#supernatural #spn15 #spn predictions

[persephone-garnata]

The Only Thing You Can Never Buy In Heaven

Just finished my first fanfic in more than two years!

Thank you, SPN finale :D 

remembering this scene

It’s a wincest one-shot about our favourite co-dependent soulmates, with middlegame Sam/Eileen. It’s mostly canon-compliant, except for Miracle goes to Heaven too, and there’s the Samulet, because I love the Samulet.

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut:

The Only Thing You Can Never Buy In Heaven

Dean loved driving around in the Impala, Led Zeppelin blasting on the stereo – the sound much cleaner now, the acoustic guitar opening of Ramble On coming through as clear as a crisp spring day. Always his favorite song to drive to, along the endless highways of Heaven.

           He visited with old friends – Bobby, obviously, his mom and dad, he went to the Roadhouse to catch up with Ellen, Jo, Ash and the rest. There were so many he knew who had died before him – hunters and civilians alike. But mostly, he just drove around – through countryside in all seasons, spring and summer and winter and fall, through mountains and deserts and cities and forests, along the shores of lakes and oceans. He stopped at countless roadside diners and ate countless plates of delicious food, without having to think about cholesterol once.

           But there was always something missing – or rather, someone. Someone to tell him to think about cholesterol, even though he didn’t have to. Someone to sit shotgun, and keep him company on nights beneath the stars. He knew he wanted Sam to live a full life, to enjoy all those years he deserved – a career, a family, a house with a white picket fence. And after all, against the backdrop of eternity, what difference did a few decades make?

           Enough difference, it turned out, to make him feel constantly like half of him was missing. Especially since there was one thing he couldn’t find, no matter how much he searched, no matter how many boxes he emptied out or pockets he rifled. You’d think that, in Heaven, you should be able to get hold of whatever the hell – or whatever the heaven – you wanted, but there seemed to be at least one exception to that. He found the replica and hung it from the rearview mirror, but it wasn’t the same.

           ‘Do you have idea where I can find my old necklace?’ he asked Bobby, one time when they were sitting on the porch together, drinking beers and shooting the breeze. Bobby gave him a slightly sad smile, and didn’t ask which one he meant. There could only be one.

           ‘Think Sam’s still got it,’ he said. ‘Back on Earth. You’ll just have to wait. Won’t seem like no time at all. Like I told you – he’ll be along.’

           ‘But –‘ Dean creased his brow - ‘Sam still has Baby, too, and yet there she is.’ He pointed at the car, sitting gleaming on the driveway. ‘And – I don’t know how this is supposed to work, I was never that good at all this stuff, but isn’t there loads of stuff in Heaven that’s on Earth too?’

           ‘Oh, you got that right,’ said Bobby. ‘There are exceptions to the rule, see? Cosmic special cases. And that necklace is one of them. Can’t be in two places at once.’

           Dean took a long pull of his beer, thinking. ‘Can’t I make a new one?’ he asked. ‘Or – buy one?’

           Bobby laughed at that. ‘Buy one? It ain’t something you can buy, boy. In fact, I figure it’s the only thing you can never buy in Heaven.’

           ‘I just – don’t feel right without it.’

           Bobby turned his shrewd gaze on Dean. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘It feels like there’s half of you missing, doesn’t it?’

           ‘Well – yeah.’

           ‘That’s ‘cause there is half of you missing. That’s how soulmates work.’

           Dean nearly choked on his beer, and Bobby had to slap him between the shoulder blades. ‘Oh, you didn’t think I didn’t know about the soulmates thing, did ya? The amount of time I spent with you boys – gimme some credit.’

           ‘I – well – we – I thought…’

           ‘You thought what? That soulmates aren’t supposed to be brothers? That incest would keep you out of Heaven? I think we both know that ain’t true.’

           Dean sipped his beer in silence, not trusting himself to say anything at all. He’d always known – or at least suspected – that the link between him and Sam went deeper than any bond normal brothers, or lovers, or even brother-lovers, shared – but soul mates? He remembered what Ash had said to him at the Roadhouse-Heaven, all those years ago – about soulmates having shared Heavens, and had he expected that he and Sam would share their own little piece of eternity?

           If he was honest with himself, he’d never thought he’d reach Heaven at all, after his years in Hell, and all the other things he’d done, and now that Jack had reconfigured things so that everyone could visit each other – well, that meant the soulmate rule no longer applied, surely? And yet – the feeling he always had, the ache like he’d lost half of himself – dammit, like half his soul was missing – that had to mean something. He’d wanted Sam to have his own life – had finally come to terms with the idea that they had horizons beyond hunting, and that his baby brother might want to explore those horizons without him – and yet now – there was only one thing he could think about.

           He had finished his beer, and was on the verge of getting up to get back behind the wheel (no issues with drink-driving in the Great Beyond) and go for a long drive with only Led Zeppelin for company. Perhaps he’d even see if he could go and visit John Bonham,  and some of the other rock stars who’d reached the top of that Stairway a long time ago. Then something burst out of the bushes and came running up to the porch – a shaggy dog, woofing in delight and licking his hands.

           ‘Hey, Miracle!’ said Dean, petting his head. ‘You’re a good boy, arentcha, a good boy…’ his voice trailed off as he thought about something. ‘Wait, if you’re here, does that mean…?’

           ‘All dogs go to Heaven,’ said Bobby, and lifted his beer bottle. ‘Guess he ain’t on Earth no more.’

           ‘Wow,’ said Dean, his hands pausing in Miracle’s long fur until the dog nudged him to make him continue petting. ‘Did Sammy look after you? Did he give you a long and happy life?’

           Miracle just barked enthusiastically, which Dean took as a Yes. He buried his face in the dog’s fur and felt, for a little while, just a little bit closer to Sam.

***

           It took Sam a long time to accept that his brother was really gone. The bunker felt so empty, all the time, and as the hunts gradually dried up, he decided he needed to move out. The echoing underground spaces just felt haunted – not by Dean, Sam could have coped with a ghostly brother – but by his absence. He caught himself, several times, eyeing up a gun, or a bottle of sleeping pills, or a coil of rope, or a knife, and wondering how long it would take for him to be reunited with Dean. And he had to admit that, if it hadn’t been for Miracle, he probably would have gone through with it. The dog just kept demanding to be fed, and to be taken out for runs, and to be petted. He never gave up on Sam, so Sam couldn’t give up on himself.

           Finally – on the day he got the call about the werewolf hunt – he resolved to leave the Bunker behind him. He knew that, once he turned the light out and closed the door behind him, he’d never be back again. So he packed up the trunk of the Impala with three boxes of possessions: one for himself, one for Miracle, and one for Dean. The last box was full of memories – shirts which still held a lingering scent of Dean, his old leather jacket, his watch, his most beloved vinyl records, his favorite weapons, a few photographs – and his necklace – the one with the amulet.

           Sam had kept that necklace in his pocket for so long it had almost become a part of him, but he’d always thought of it as a part of Dean. Now, he lifted it up to the light inside the bunker, looked at that inscrutable face, and felt a powerful tug inside him – a tug of both sadness, and hope. He put the necklace inside the box with the rest, and for the first time since Dean had died, thought that maybe, just maybe, things might turn out right.

           That werewolf hunt turned out to be his last hunt for a while. Sam drifted around, sleeping in whatever dog-friendly motels he could find, or on the back seat of the Impala when he couldn’t find one. He scoured the local news and the internet, looking for more cases, trying to throw himself back into the job. Yet it seemed that the monsters were thinner on the ground now, and soon Sam realized his heart wasn’t in it any more – the family business just wasn’t the same without the family.

           He toured around for some time, checking in with old friends. He saw Jody and Donna and Clare and Alex. He saw Charlie and her girlfriend. He saw Jesse and Cesar. He saw Garth and his family – little Sam and Castiel were growing well. No Dean though – his absence was a constant pain, like the ache in a missing limb, and Sam felt it even more acutely when he saw other people’s happiness.

He kept seeking people out, further and further flung branches of the extended Winchester hunting family. He tracked down Lisa’s son Ben Braeden, now twenty-one and studying medicine, and looking just a little bit like Dean at the same age. He even reconnected with Amelia, now living happily with her husband Don and their two young children – and a big shaggy dog. He really regretted that particular foray into his own past – it just made him feel miserable, and as he drove away from their picture-perfect house, if it hadn’t been for Miracle on the back seat, he’d have probably driven the Impala straight off a bridge into the nearest canyon.

Finally, he worked his way back to Jody Mills, and as he sat in her house late at night, drinking her wine and eating her potato chips, Miracle gnawing a bone at his feet, she said something to him.

‘You know you need to see her at some point, Sam,’

He didn’t need to ask who she meant.

‘It’s – not that easy,’ he said.

‘Isn’t it? You know she cares about you, and I think you care about her.’

Sam sighed. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I really do. But – me and Dean –‘

‘You had something special,’ Jody filled in for him. ‘She knows that too.’

Sam sighed again. ‘Something special’ was one way to describe what he and Dean had shared, he supposed, but how could he ever really convey the true depth of their relationship? How could he possibly tell someone – anyone – the way he and Dean had lived together, hunted together, slept together (and yes, they had slept together, but almost more significant was the way they had always huddled together for warmth and protection, neither of them ever able to sleep properly without the other). How they had been everything to each other – more than brothers, more than lovers, more than anything?

He looked up, and saw that Jody was smiling at him.

‘And I’m sure she knows how you feel without him. If you’re worried what she’ll think of you – don’t. Most hunters – we got something, some pain, we carry with us.’

‘We’re all damaged goods,’ said Sam, and finished the rest of the glass of wine with one big gulp.

‘What’s damaged can be mended, if you’ll only let someone try,’ said Jody, and took the empty glass from him.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Sam, and got his phone out right then to send a message to Eileen, before the courage could leave him.

They arranged to meet for brunch at a trendy vegan hipster café (which also accepted dogs) in New York City, where Eileen had settled now. Sam remembered how Dean had never wanted to drive the Impala into Manhattan, so he left Baby at a big parking lot in a commuter town and rode the train into town, Miracle on the seat next to him. And he remembered how his brother had always hated these trendy cafes with their avocado toast and their artisan coffees and their stupid plant milks. Meeting Eileen at a place like this felt like moving on – which felt both fresh and good and right, and gave Sam an aching feeling of guilt.

The café was noisy with both music and chatter – Sam felt glad that he’d spent a long time practising his signing beforehand, so that he and Eileen could have a silent conversation in the middle of the hubbub. They sat on a half-collapsed sofa, twisted sideways to face each other, while they drank their almond-milk lattes and ate their sourdough toast, topped with scrambled tofu, wilted spinach, and a sprinkle of dukkah. Delicious, and not a nitrate in sight. Dean would have hated this place.

After exchanging a few stilted words of standard greetings, Eileen asked Sam to describe what happened on his and Dean’s final hunt. He did his best to describe everything to her – and found that having to do so with his hands really helped, because he didn’t have to worry about his voice cracking. Then she asked him what he’d been doing since, and he told her that too – along with an apology for not contacting her sooner.

‘It’s okay,’ she signed. Then she asked him the killer question: ‘And how are you coping without him?’

How was he coping without him? ‘Not well,’ he signed. ‘If it hadn’t been for Miracle here – I think I wouldn’t have made it this far, to be honest with you.’ He pulled a face. It was the closest he’d yet come to admitting to anyone just how close he’d come to ending his own life, stretching out ahead of him like an endless highway, with nobody sitting by his side.

‘I’m glad you’ve made it this far,’ Eileen signed back. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

There was an awkward pause. Sam drained his coffee and then petted Miracle, just for something to do with hands.

‘So – what happens now?’ Eileen signed to him.

‘I think – you-’ Sam stopped, waved his hands in a clearing-away gesture, and started again. ‘I would like you to be a part of my life,’ he signed. ‘If you want to. However you want to.’

Eileen nodded, thoughtfully. Sam knew a moment of pure panic – what if she was going to tell him to get lost, that she’d already found somebody else and wanted nothing to do with him ever again? And that moment of panic told him that actually, no matter how close to the edge of despair he’d gotten over these last months, he did want something more out of life – he wanted Eileen beside him.

‘I would like to be a part of your life,’ she signed, eventually. ‘If you’ll let me in.’

‘I will try my best,’ Sam signed back to her. ‘But – you should know – me and Dean – we were much closer than most brothers. Without him – it’s difficult for me.’

‘I understand,’ she signed. ‘And I don’t mind.’

‘Really?’ Sam accompanied the sign with a pleading look – the kind of look Dean had always called his ‘puppy-dog eyes’.

‘Really. I like you, Sam. I like you a lot. You’re a good man. And if you’ve got baggage – well, I have trust issues myself. We can take things slowly, and I understand if you need time for yourself, sometimes. And maybe I’ll need some time for myself, too.’

‘Thank you,’ signed Sam, and meant it.

Eileen sighed then, and looked away, briefly, before turning back to him.

‘I want you to be honest with me, Sam,’ she signed.

‘Of course,’ he replied, although his heart sank at what she might ask him. Being close to a dead brother was one thing – actual Game of Thrones, Flowers in the Attic incest was another.

She didn’t ask him about the incest. Or at least not in a sexual way. That would almost have been preferable to what she did ask him.

‘Do you think you and Dean were – or are – soulmates?’

Sam blinked a few times, and had to ask her to repeat the question. She did, even saying that word ‘soulmates’ out loud for his benefit.

Well, he’d promised to be honest with her. ‘Yes,’ he signed. She just nodded.

‘I thought so,’ she signed.

‘Is that – a problem?’ he asked. ‘Do you – not want to be in life now?’

‘It’s okay,’ she signed. ‘Thank you for being honest.’

‘Is it really okay? Being with me, knowing I’m soulmates with – somebody else?’

‘Most people never meet their soulmates, or never have one in the first place. I’d rather be with you, knowing you’ve told me the truth, than somebody I don’t know if I can trust.’

Sam nodded, slowly. It made sense. Sort of. To be sitting here, with Eileen, talking about his dead soulmate.

‘Shall I get us some more coffees?’ Eileen asked him.

‘Please.’

***

           He and Eileen did take things slowly, at first. Then it felt like they accelerated their life together. After Miracle died – the dog had already been old when he and Dean had found him – it felt like the last thing tying Sam to his old life had gone.

As he hugged the old dog to him in the vet’s office, he whispered to him: ‘You’re a good boy, Miracle. You go straight to Dean now, tell him I’ll be all right.’ Miracle just nuzzled Sam a little, and Sam felt the simple love in that gesture, hoped he could take the message to Dean.

He sat in the front seat – the shotgun seat – of the Impala for a long time after that, crying his eyes out. And yet, he no longer wanted to drive off a cliff. He wanted to stay alive, for at least a little longer. He messaged Eileen, and started driving before she’d even answered him.

When he turned up on her doorstep, she saw the absence beside him, and invited him in without a word.

Shortly after that, they got a house together, in upstate New York, parked the Impala in the garage, under a dust sheet, and started their new life. They got married, in a very low-key ceremony, only a few people – their old hunting buddies – present. Eileen got a job in computing – helping to design and test user interfaces to be suitable for the hard-of-hearing. And, while she didn’t say anything to him directly. Sam realized that, if they were going to settle down properly, he should really get himself an actual job. He hadn’t been a hunter for some time – he’d stopped without even realizing it. So he finished his legal training, and finally qualified as an attorney. It felt weird to be doing a ‘normal’ white-collar job at last, but he consoled himself with the thought that, with all the pro-bono work he did, he was still saving people – and hunting things, in a different way.

A few years later, although Sam had never really seen himself as a father – Dean was the one with the strong paternal instincts - they had a child. When they came to thinking of a name, Sam was filled with all sorts of suggestions – but Eileen shook her head, and signed at him ‘How about Dean?’

And Sam didn’t like that idea at first – it felt too much like revisiting the past he’d tried to leave behind – but the more he thought about it, the more he found he couldn’t think of his little baby boy as anything other than Dean. So Dean it was, and would ever be. He had another Dean in his life now, and he gave his son all the love he had.

He never forgot the other Dean – how could he? – but gradually, over the years, he accepted that he had other people in his life now, who were more important to him than his dead brother. At least for now, and now was the only time that really mattered. He got the Impala out very occasionally – one Halloween he even sat behind the wheel wearing his costume of an old Grandpa, complete with cheap grey wig.

Eileen and he rarely spoke about the car, or the old Dean. His life before her, and their son, became something packed away in a box that he only rarely got out looked at – like the amulet he still kept, tucked away, and occasionally took out. Whenever he did so, he admired the golden gleam of the metal, still untarnished after all these years, and let himself fill up with all the aching sadness that was normally stoppered up.

***

Time worked differently in Heaven. Dean knew that. It took him a while to get used to though – however long ‘a while’ was here. He kept expecting things to change faster than they did, or for people – and Miracle – to age and wither away. It was an adjustment to realize, gradually, that here things just went on and on – unless you changed them yourself. And Dean didn’t really want anything to change, not really. He wanted everything to go on as it was, until –

Until Sam arrived. Dean accepted that he shouldn’t wish his brother would hurry up and get there – they’d have eternity together, after all, and wanting eternity to start sooner made no sense. Not when he’d told Sam to live on without him. He wanted Sam to live a full life, to hook up properly with Eileen at last, get a job, wear some dorky sweaters, even have a kid or two. Enjoy all the apple-pie-and-picket-fence stuff that he, Sam, had always wanted, and he, Dean, didn’t.

Did he? Hadn’t part of him always enjoyed cooking for his little brother, taking care of him? Hadn’t part of him longed for Ben to be his son? Hadn’t part of him wanted to settle down and have a family?

Well, in Heaven, all things were possible. He could find somebody else – like Rufus had Aretha – and have a new life, for a while at least. However long ‘a while’ was, here. He didn’t know how to start finding someone, though, or who that someone would even be. Whenever he tried to imagine sharing his afterlife with anyone, only one person ever sprang to mind.

And then. One day – one moment – when he was standing on the bridge, enjoying the view over river and the forests, Miracle by his side. He felt, without being able to say how he felt it, that his brother was here. At last. Or – time worked differently here. Maybe not at last. Maybe he was right on time.

Eternity had to start sometime, and Dean guessed it was starting now. He smiled.

‘Hey Sammy,’

He turned around. And there he was, exactly as he remembered him. After however many years it had been for him on Earth. Sam looked a little tired – as if the last few months of his life had been a lot to bear. And – almost shy, almost as if he was worried Dean wouldn’t want to see him any more, that he might somehow have moved on, in the time before he arrived in Heaven. Well, for better or worse, he hadn’t.

‘Dean,’ said Sam, and met his eyes, and smiled.

They embraced, Miracle rubbing himself against both of their legs at once. As they did so, Dean felt something hot pressed against him, and when the drew apart again, he saw a light glowing from Sam’s pocket.

‘Is that…?’

Sam dipped his hand inside his pocket, and pulled out the necklace. The amulet. The only thing you can never buy in Heaven. It was glowing, as it had done in the presence of God, except now –

‘I think that means,’ Dean started to say, but then Sam cut him off.

‘I know,’ he said, and lifted the necklace to put it around Dean’s neck again. Dean ducked his head without even thinking, and felt the weight of the amulet fall into place once more. Once more – and forever. And finally, he felt whole again. He had been reunited with the other half of his soul, and he was now complete. And he always would be.

Sam and Dean leaned together against the parapet of the bridge, and knew they had eternity to explore all the vistas of Heaven. Together.

#wincest #forever wincest fest