#this is killing me this is KILLING me the agony of dean knowing sam will never know the weight of what he sacrificed for him--

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester mark of cain #moc!dean #mark of cain #supernatural angst #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #angry Dean Winchester #angry!dean #dark Dean Winchester #angst #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort #platonic Sam Winchester

[zepskies]

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son was dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

…That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and gasps for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still struggling for breath. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re fucking shameless. Keep messing with me. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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#Devour Me #Part 2 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean x you #dean winchester x latina!reader #dean winchester x plus sized!reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester x poc!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester fic #poc!reader #latina!reader #plus sized reader #sam winchester #castiel #midnight espresso verse #zepskies writes

[icameheretoreadstuff]

Take off your clothes.

Pairing: Lucifer x F!Reader

Warning: 18+, Angst, smut, explicit sex, unprotective sex, spanking,

Summary:  You were on a huntingtrip, trying to find your friend Sara, but got cornerd by 5 werewolves. Then suddenly in comes Lucifer saving your ass.

A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.

You were friends with Sam and Dean. You basically knew everything, the whole story. You found out when you met Sam and Dean 18 years ago. For monthes you had been working cases with Sam and Dean, and other people on and off due too end of the world stuff. You and Lucifer had been caught staring at each other, flirting and teasing. Sam figured it out first, he got worried and told Dean of course. Dean got pissed and you promised that you would try to stay away from him. But you knew that you couldn't keep that promise. Because he was like a drug, and you wanted more.

You were currently hunting after a werewolf, who had killed your friend Sara. You were at a resturant middle in a forrest, checking out a lead. talked to the manager, who told you that there was this cabin, west of the forrest. You had been driving a small road for over an hour now, when you came to the right place. You walked over to the cabin ready for anything. You had an shotgun, a machette strapped to your leg and a small gun under your jacket.

You walked slowly over to the front door, lockpicking it open. The place was dark and dirty, but you went in anyway. "Sara?" you called, walked around the corner from the hallway into another room, it looked like a diningroom, there you found a dead body. "shit" you cussed and walked slowly over to her. It was sara, you were too late. "oh no, Sara" you sighed, angry over you couldn't be there sooner.

Suddenly you felt someone drag you and pushed you over to the other side of the room. You woke up after a couple of seconds, trying to listen in on what was going around you. You silently grabbed the gun and were ready for anything.

You saw two werewolves in the room and flipped on your back shooting both of them with your handgun. You jumped up and looked around you, another one came from your left, you shot him and continuing walking over to the body of Sara.

She was gone, you wanted to give her a proper burial. You sighed and turned around and got up your cell. "Hey Bitch" someone said behind your back. you turned around ready to shoot only to see 5 werewolves circling around you in different directions.

You did not know what to do so you tried to make small talk. "let's talk about this" you said holding your gun in the air, putting it down and kicking it away from you. "I think not" the other one said and grabbed the gun, disarmening it. "you killed allot of my friends" the leader said. "Now what is there to talk about?" you sighed "what did you do to Sara?" you asked. "She's dead" he answered "No matter, You are just in time for dessert" He smirked. A tear fell on your cheek. "hell yeah!" another answered. You thought of how the hell you were going to get out of this mess.

Suddenly the backdoor kicked in "Here's Lucy!" Lucifer said with kind of a crazy face. Everyone turned to look at Lucifer. The leader got scared and said "Stay back or we kill her" and another one grabbed you and held you hostage. "Aw, Do you think you stand a chance-" You tried to shake loose but to no use.

Lucifer began panting of rage, His eyes turned red "Do you think you stand a chance against me?" He growled. The one who held you tried to stab you but failed, but he managed to cut your throat a little. Lucifer waved with his hand so that everyone froze in agony. You started to panic and tried to hold your wound. "die" he snarled and snapped his fingers, and everyone dropped to the floor. He looked over to you "are you alright?" he asked. "Lucifer" you sighed out in relief. and held your throat tighter, "Y/n?" You started to feel dizzy. "help-" you said before fainting.

You woke up in a bed "Lucifer?" you searched for his face, realising that you woke up in a fancy bedroom, looking like a hotel or something. You looked around yourself confused, you walked over to the mirror looking where the cut was. The cut was gone, You sighed in relief. you looked around yourself looking for Lucifer but found him nowhere.

"Hey sleepyhead" Lucifer said and stood behind you laying down some food on a table. You turned "Luc-" you sighed in relief. He laid the food on the table. "saved your ass" he smirked. You ran over to him jumped up into his arms and kissed him deeply. He held you in his arms, holding you tightly. You dragged your hands through his hair grabbing it playfully. "you saved my life" you said. "If this is the thanks I get, I should save you more often" he whispered and dropped you down.

"Listen, I neeed to ask you something" you started saying, guiding his hand over to the bed. "You are kinda the villan" you stated. "And You are kinda annoying" he said simply, you chuckled and said "seriously, I can't get you out of my head" you stated. "But I want you to tell me, If this happends" you said reaching over to his hand "Is this a one time thing for you" you asked, as you heart started to beat faster. "You are the first living creation I have ever cared about" he said sighing "but you know I'll always be the villan" he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care" you said grabbed his face and kissed him, tasting his lips seductively and tasted his split tounge. "I can't get you out of my head either" he whispered as he grabbed your face and started to deeply kiss you.

He raised up and threw of his clothes, and you threw off your clothes rushing to keep kissing him. He grabbed your waist, placing you middle of the bed as he climed over you. You looked down at his body "nice vessel" you smirked and bit his lip. The feeling of your bodies touching was making you hungry for him.

He smirked and kissed you deeply, and moved his hand down to your core. You grabbed his hand and guided him close to your g-spot. "here" you moaned, You moaning gave him so much pleasure. He kissed your neck and kept kissing you, worked his way down to playfully bite your nipple.

He kept moving down and put his tounge out tasting your core. "You are so wet" he hummed, as his long tounge finding your g-spot, thrusting into you. "Lucifer" you moaned. Lucifer looked at you, your moaning was making him want you more and more. He placed his hand on your nipple pinching it and kept thrusting his tounge into you, exploring what made you tic.

"I'm close" you kept moaning. The sound of your wet core, the sounds you and him making together with your bodies was making him crazy. You grabbed his hair, moaning loudly "Lucifer" you climaxed and moved your hips into his face, riding out your high.

He looked up at you "You taste so good" he smirked. "You like riding my face" he winked and flipped you over. You held on the headboard, ready for him. He looked satisfied at your reaction, and spanked you hard. you winced with pleasure "luc-" you leaned back searching for him. He smirked as he thrusted himself in you with no warning.

"lucifer" you moaned and joined in on thrusting yourself, and positioned yourself making him go deeper. "y/n" he hummed. You and him had an perfect rythum going. The sound of your bodies crashing and your wet core was making you moan. You felt an wave of electricity throughout your body, signaling you were close. He grabbed your hips hard and climaxed. You both colapsed on the bed.

After cleaning your self up, you walked over to the food he had brought you, opening up the bag and found your favourite takeout. "Thanks for this" you smiled satisfied. "For what?" He smirked, you rolled your eyes knowing he meant that he had saved your life, brought you food and well made you completely satisfied.

"Everything" you winked and chuckled. He walked out of the bed starting to dress himself, you stopped him saying "what do think you are doing?" He looked up at you puzzled. "I’m just getting fuel" you said and pointed at the bed. "Sit" he threw his clothes at the floor ready for round 2. "Yes sir" he joked.

#supernatural fic #supernatural #lucifer x reader #lucifer spn #lucifer spn smut #lucifer spn x reader #lucifer supernatural #lucifer supernatural smut #spn lucifer

[aloneatpeace]

In another universe

Chapter 10

Last warning

ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴡᴇsᴛᴠɪᴇᴡ

" We can't pick up any signals sir " The agent infrom hayward.

"Did the girl wake up "

"Not yet sir "

Sam sat in front of the tv trying to get back the sit com.

"Did you get it? " Dean urge.

"No. its like there were destroyed. Only thing we have is the last episode .no new show "

Sam type away in his computer.

"hey look "

"So twins hahha! "

"Yeah " You rock the crib. "You know I had a brother his name was jack " Voice soft sadness and pain evident. Monica glance at you Sympathyicaly. You start to sing a lullaby.

"He was killed by hunters right "

At her comment you stop.

"What did you say " You ask after a pause voice hidden with threat.

" He... Let me change the diaper " She start move towards the kids but you stand take step forwards. Making her step back.

"Y/n clam down "

"How do you know that " You take menacing step toward her.

She gulp as you stand in front of her. "What is that " You point at the tailsman in her neck. "How do you know about jack "

"Who are you " Your kids start to cry.

"Y/n "she gulp "I'm your neighbour Monica". Fear evident in his voice. " You know me "

" No you're not"  You lift your palm red glow appear brightly "You're a stranger" Monica step back..

"Y/n....clam down .I'm your friend "

"You are not my neighbor and your definitely not my friend "both arms lifted at your side the red mist moving around your palm. " You're intruder, a stranger , And now You're trespassing my home, and i want you leave " You thrust your hands towards her sending her flying through the walls and into outside of the hex. You bring your hands up fixing the damage that you done.

"Well that was something else " Dean comment.

" So she is intead a threat to humanity " Hayward grin. Jimmy looked uneasy at haywards comment as dean roll his eyes.

" Sir she is awake "

The Salvatore speed to Bonnie the rest trailing behind them.

Bonnie sit there in shock of what just happened. Footsteps sound reach her ear.

"Damon, Stefan " Bonnie embrace her friends

Hayward walks in. "Miss you were in that hex for 2 days . How do you feel , you were in there for a quiet long time ."

"I'm good now "

" What do you remember? " Sam question

"Pain, agony and y/n voice in my head "

"You're witch right. Is it Y/n who doing all this? " Hayward get straight to the pont. As they watch the seen played.

"Yes ......but she didn't.. "

"Miss i asked you that was she is the behind all of this and you're the victim and she is the one who let you stay there against your will " Hayward cut off bonnie And bonnie nodded her head as her answer."thats all i needed to know"

He turn into the Winchester's "thank you for your help. Now your work here is done . You can leave now from here our own team will take care of it "

"Leave? But the case is not closed yet " Sam hissed. He been spending day and night on this trying to find how you're doing this.

"Your job was find who behind all this and you did. Your work here done. I suggest you all leave " Hayward bossed.

Sam start to walk towards him "what? ?I spend day and night here without a wink of sleep. And we couldn't even get through how to save the people in there or communicate with Y/n "

"Like I said there is no use for you guys here, your friend is free now , and your work here is done " Sam launch towards them but dean grab sam away from him.

"Sammy " Dean shoot a look at sam before turning to Hayward "we will leave " "satisfied with dean answer hayward leave the tent.

" You're not gonna leave it here are you? "Sam look at dean.

" Like hell I am. Captain asshole can suck it.I'm not leaving untill we get the people out of there "dean grumble.

Hayward walk into the lab "find me a tech that build in 80's an armed one "

"Of course sir "an anget replied.

" After the Winchester gone infrom me. We will take down this little witch " Hayward give them a arrogant smrik.

The Winchester and Salvatore walk out with bonnie a little further away from the tents as Jimmy helped them.

Bonnie step in front of them "okey now that we are here. I want to tell some thing "

"Yeah, tell us I love to gossip too " A british voice cheered. Bonnie turn to see the three Mikealson brothers standing. Klaus flash Bonnie a smirk.

"What the hell are you doing here? " She yell at them.

"Relax darling, we are here to see if you are okey " The three walk towards them.

"Who are they ? " Jimmy asked.

"Couple of originals who obsessed with me " Damon said sarcastically.

"Don't flatter yourself damon" Elijah chime in.

"First generation of vampires " Sam eyes widen at them.

"Aren't you sharp one " Klaus give him a charming smile.

"Great more vampires. Just what we needed " Dean groan

"Guys" Bonnie try to get there attention.

"Klaus Mikealson, I'm the hybrid "

"Elijah Mikealson "

"Guys! "

"Kol Mikealson "

"Sam Winchester and this is my brother dean Winchester ,hunters "

"I'm Jimmy woo , FBI "

"GUYS!!!" Bonnie yell at the top her lungs making them stop talking.

"Finally.can you listen for one second "they node at her.

" Y/n is not like any other witches I have seen. she didn't cast any spell when she throw me out of the hex. She is dangerous I agree to that but we can't let Hayward kill her. She didn't kill anyone the witches and hunters did.She is pain every day. She didn't mean any of this happen. She scared, alone and heart broken. There so much sorrow it was horrible and it's drowning her. We just need to help her. " An silence wash over them.

"Bonnie is right " At cas unexpected voice the vampires and hybrid showed their true face. Bonnie casted a spell. Jimmy and dean let out scream and Sam flinched at the voice.

"Son of bitch, a warning, a warning cas " Dean take breath as the other compress themselves.

         𝔹𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕

         𝔹𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕

                       𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕪.

The group run towards the front of the hex. Soldiers with ruffle are standing in Haywards side. The hex starts to glitch a person's figure coming .

You come out of the hex wearing a combat red suit. Right hand dragging the missile.

"Is this yours" You throw it to the feet of Hayward.

"What the hell did he do " Dean whisper.

"The missile was just precaution Y/n " He look up to you. " You can hardly blame us ".

Several riffle guns green laser pointed at your chest. But you stand there without baiting a eyes at it.

" Ohh, I think I can "you stare right into Hayward eyes confidently. " This will be your only warning . Stay out my home "voice asserting and cold." You stay in your side of the road and I'll stay in mine "

"I wish that it's was that simple Y/n.but you have taken a whole town as hostage"

"Well I'm not the one with the guns director " You huff.

"But you're the one in control" Bonnie softly said.

You turn at the voice "you're still here "

"Y/n , I'm not with them .I didn't know about the drone " Bonnie take step towards you.

"Why should I believe you? " You glare her .

"Because you trust me. You let me in your house. You let me delivered your babies. You trust me with them. Y/n , I want to help you."

Bonnie desperately try to clam you down.

"How ?.What could possibly you have to offer me " Your voice shudders in pure agony. The pain your voice piercing through their heart like a dagger. You look so broken, exhausted and tried nothing like what they saw on the show. No vibrant eyes, no beautiful sweet smile and there is no warmth in your voice.

"What do you want? " She ask you even though she could never give what you really want.

You tilt your head to side. Bonnie curse under breath. "I have want I want " You shift your eye at Hayward. "And nobody is taking it away from me " Hand slowly the red glow appear before it move towards the soldiers making them change their aim into Hayward chest.

"Whoa.. Whoa stand down, stand down " Hayward yell . You walk back to the hex and the hex turn into green. After your gone the soldiers fall to the ground.

The remaining people look at the hex with terror filled eyes.

ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇsᴛᴠɪᴇᴡ

You walk towards the Nusary but the kids are not there. Sound of laughter head from the backyard when you reach there you see Alex playing with the kids . The kids see you standing there.

"Mom" Oliver reach you first. Charile who is carbon copy of his father Run to you in the most funny way learning from his dad who laugh while running behind them.

Oh how you wished this stay like this forever.

Series masterlist

#castiel #dean winchester x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #kol milkealson x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #tvd x reader #wandavison au #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #scarlet witch au #aloneatpeacefic #harry styles dwd #harry edward styles #harry x reader #marvel #tvd universe #damonsalvarote x reader #stefan salavatore x reader #witcehs #agatha haraknes #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #kol Mikaelson #Klaus Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson

[vaicomcas]

One More Bitter Cas Girl Vent Fic

I fulfilled my promise in my tags and wrote a ficlet to incorporate my own version of Castiel's "confession" for a redo of 15x18. (I did change it a bit to fit the story) Because I can't stand how that confession took everything good Castiel ever did and gave all the credit to Dean Winchester.

This is not a proper fic; it's badly written, it's pure self-indulgence, it's contrived and doesn't make too much sense, but it's my truth. You've been warned.

CW: subverting 15x18. hostile to Dean Winchester. Does not have a happy ending. Cas still sacrificed himself, but at least he was the hero who saved the world and Jack.

This can be considered a companion piece to my other bitter Cas girl vent fic The Miracle that is an alternate explanation of 15x20.

synopsis:

In shock and disillusion from Dean's betrayal Amara let herself be absorbed into Chuck, but in the last moment, she realized she wanted to be free and could use the darkness of the Empty to power herself. If was too late but she transmitted the message to the next celestiel being which happened to be Cas.

Cas used Dean's attack of Billie as opportunity to draw Billie out of her library to the bunker, where Chuck killed Billie. Then Cas summoned the Empty, knowing that Amara could use the Empty to bury Chuck forever. His happiness came from: he let go of his self-hate and asserted his own worth to Dean; he knew that his action would lead to a world without Chuck where Jack will be free.

The Truth

scene 1 is from 15x17 Unity. The other 2 are from 15x18 Despair. Lines from the show are in italics.

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

Amara

“Sam and Dean, they are using Jack to destroy us.”

Amara knew then already.  But she still didn’t want to believe it.

“No, but��Dean can’t hurt me.”

Chuck looked at his sister with pity.

“No, but he could send you to the meat grinder with a wink and a smile.”

Amara was stunned. 

Dean lied to her.  Dean had looked her in the eye with such sincerity, and told her he could never hurt her.

She had cared about Dean.  She had cared about the world.  She was willing to put her own eternal life on the line to fight God.

Her love meant nothing, less than nothing.  It was turned into a weapon against both her brother and herself.  A disposable weapon at that.

Amara was surprised that it wasn’t anger she felt.  It was exhaustion. Everything in sight exhausted her.  The mildewed walls.  The dented shelves.  The dim lights. 

Every sensation in this world that she had cherished, now felt like an assault on her being.  An ugly, cold, hateful assault that came at her relentlessly.

She was the darkness.  Darkness at the beginning of time.  Darkness without end.  She longed for that all-encompassing darkness now. Away from this ugly deceitful world.

But there was no going back.  She had allowed herself to be entangled with her omnipotent twin.  She had been betrayed, and now she was trapped. 

Chuck said words about balance, about a fresh start.  But she didn’t bother listening. 

When Chuck smiled at her and held out his hand, Amara took it.  And let herself be absorbed into her brother.  What else was left for her?

Yet, in the millisecond before their hands touched, a spark of self-preservation broke through her disillusionment.  No, this was not what she wanted.

 Too late, she realized how she could find her strength.  How she could find her peace.  How she could become herself once again. 

Not how, but where.

She didn’t have time to act with her powerful brother right there.  But in the last microsecond of the last millisecond, she sent out a cloaked message to the nearest celestial being capable of receiving it.

“Take me to eternal darkness, and there will be peace for all of us.”

The nearest celestial being was right next door. 

Castiel didn’t have time to wonder what the message meant.  At that moment, he was preoccupied with Jack’s agony, as cracks of light spread on the Nephilim's face. Then the next moment, his father burst through the door, one eye glowing silver, one eye glowing black.

A sickening realization hit Castiel.  God was so powerful, he was capable of consuming his sister, his equal.  Billie’s plan was never going to work.  They could never have killed God using Jack, using anything that was part of this world, part of God’s creation. 

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

2. Jack

“How are you feeling? You’ve been quiet.”

Cas looked at Jack while they leaned on the Impala, waiting for Sam and Dean.

“How long have you been waiting to ask me that?” 

Jack was expecting it.  He could tell Cas was worried in the few hours of relative peace since he was brought back from the Empty.  Not that Cas showed it.  But Jack could feel it the whole time.

Jack could always feel how Castiel was feeling, even when he was soulless.  Even now, when he had lost his powers.

At his question, Castiel lowered his head and chuckled at himself.  A wave of affection radiated out, as if he was proud of Jack for seeing through him. 

For some reason, it made tears well up in Jack’s eyes.

Jack wanted to confess.  He wanted Cas to know that his pride and affection were misplaced.

“I was ready to die, and I wanted to. For Sam, for Dean, for the world. I wanted to make things right. And now... I don't know why I'm even here.”

Jack’s words hit Castiel like a tsunami of pain.  

Castiel knew this feeling all too well.   He knew what it was like to feel worthless and hopeless.  He had made peace with it.  He thought he deserved it.

With an agonizing horror that pierced his very core, he recognized that Jack had been in the same hell.  It broke Castiel’s heart.  He could never make peace with that. He never will.

He steeled himself to conceal his sorrow.  He turned to Jack, reaching out with his grace, his mind, his voice.  He spoke urgently and forcefully.

“Jack, you never needed absolution from Sam or Dean, or from me.  We don’t care about you because you are useful or because you fit into some grand design.  We care about you because you are you.”

Jack felt Castiel’s wings wrapped around him in the etheric plane, the way Cas embraced him so many times before. He heard Castiel’s heartbeat, sure and strong.  He saw Castiel’s wavelengths, gently illuminating the world for him. 

With his father next to him, he realized, he didn’t want to die.

Jack let his tears fall.  “God, the Empty, Billie…everyone is so mad at us.  There is nothing I can do to protect us.  I am scared.”

Cas put a consoling hand on Jack’s shoulder, not knowing what more to say.  Jack shouldn’t be trying to protect them.  He was supposed to protect Jack. 

How could he do that?  How could he stop the most powerful forces in this universe?  How could they protect Jack from God when they were all part of God’s creation?

Suddenly Castiel’s eyes lit up. Not everything was God’s creation.

He remembered Amara’s message.  “Take me to eternal darkness, and there will be peace for all of us.”  He understood it.

It didn’t matter that he was an insignificant cog of his father’s machinations. It didn’t matter that his power had been failing him.  It didn’t matter that he no longer had any celestial allies left.  There was still something he could do.  And he had to do something, to keep Jack from every kind of harm.  It was his promise.  It would be his happiness.

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

3. Cas

The sigil glowed on the door of room 7B.  Death was pounding on the other side of the door.

“She’s gonna get through that door, she’s gonna kill you, then she’s gonna kill me.”  Dean despaired in utter defeat, seeing no way out.

“No.” Castiel said calmly.  “That is not going to happen.  I will not let that happen.”

“Com’on, Cas.”  Dean groaned.  “You need to accept reality.”

Castiel smiled.  “Billie is exactly where I want her.  She is weakened, dying, and you have drawn her away from the library which is a source of her power.”

“I drew her away?  What the hell are you talking about?”

“I knew you’d want to kill Billie.  I knew you didn’t stand a chance, and would have to retreat. And Billie would follow you to the bunker.”

Dean’s face turned stony.  Cas made screwed-up plans behind his back, yet again.  

“You planned this? You are using me as bait?  What’s wrong with you?”

“Dean, I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t risk Billie sensing your thoughts.  I would never endanger you.  Billie can’t kill you.  Chuck-my father- wouldn’t allow it.   I know him, Dean.  You and Sam were always the only ones he was obsessed with.  He still wants you to be his story.  He will always want that.  Billie plotted to kill him.  And now she is trying to kill you.  Chuck wouldn’t let it stand.”

The building shook violently.  The banging on the door stopped.  It sounded like a storm was raging outside the dungeon. 

Castiel heard Billie grunting.  He saw the sigil on the door flickering.  He could feel two cosmic entities clashing.  Their blows sent shock waves pounding on his true form.  He didn’t waver.

“Chuck is here.  He and Death are engaged in battle.”

“And that’s your plan?”  Dean’s shock turned into incredulity, then anger.  “It’s not enough we got one cosmic big bad gunning after us, you want two?”

“I want them to fight each other.”

“That’s a stupid plan!  Whoever wins, they are coming for us next!”

“They will.  And whoever that is, I will destroy them.”

Dean sighed.  “Cas.  You are really losing it.  Even back when you had the power of the purgatory souls inside you, you could never have taken on Death or God.  Now…”

Cas smiled again.  “Now I am just a broken angel with barely any power left.  I know, Dean.”

Cas casted his eyes down, as if preparing a confession.  To accomplish what he has set out to do, he needed to set himself free.

 He returned his gaze to Dean, light of the truth shining in his blue eyes. 

“Dean, I know how you see me. You think I am impulsive, misguided, the reason why things go wrong.  You think I try to be the good guy, but I failed more often than I succeeded.  You think I am only strong when I fight by your side, as your blunt weapon.  I am not. Everything I have ever done, the good and the bad, I did for love.  I raised you and Sam from perdition for love.  I led my angel armies for love. And I made a deal with the Empty for love.”

Dean stared at him, dumbfounded.  “What are you talking about?”.

“When Jack was dying, I made the deal to save him.  The price was my life.  When I experience a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned, and it would take me forever.  The Empty that is eternal darkness.  The Empty that was not created by God, and could be used against him.”  

Outside, Cas could hear Billie gasping and wheezing.   Despite the claim of the original Death that in the end he would reap God, this Death had been weakened.  God was about to destroy Billie.  He didn’t have much time left.

He no longer paid attention to Dean.  His eyes glowed softly as he prayed to Jack.  He could feel Jack’s grace responding to him across the etheric plane. 

“Jack, remember what I said to you earlier.  You don’t need anybody’s absolution, you don’t need anybody’s approval.  With or without a soul, with or without power, you always just wanted to do good. Jack, you ARE good, and you are important. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise.”

There.  He felt it.  Jack believed him.  Although still faint, a wave of hope reverberated in Jack’s soul. That hope amplified in Castiel’s grace, endlessly, triumphantly.

Death has been destroyed.  God will be next.  Evil will rot in the Empty.  A new day is coming for heaven and earth. It will be Jack’s world, finally and truly.

Jack will be free. The whole world will be free.

The door exploded.  Chuck walked in, smiling smugly. But it was too late for him.

Happiness flooded Castiel's grace. His wings rose with joy and reverence, saluting the new world to come.

Pools of amorphous black goo seeped in through the ceiling and formed a swirling portal.

The black tendrils hissed and spread, enveloping Castiel and Chuck.

Inside Chuck, Amara sighed with relief. Darkness. Eternal darkness. Its incomparable power was coursing through her now.   She took control. "Let's go home, brother."

Cas smiled, head held high. He prayed one last time.

"I love you, Jack."

#castiel #jack kline #amara #chuck/god #15x18 redo #dean critical #anti dean winchester #not a fix it in normal sense #no happy ending #my fic #pretty bad

[sirduckytontheduck]

Fics Finished - December

1. Scorched Earth by AmberXBoone, corrupt_touch (AmberXBoone)

word count: 155,527

Mary Winchester died in a presumed-accidental house fire in Queens, New York in 1983. Nearly 40 years later, her sons, Dean (now an EMT) and Sam (a New York City corporate attorney) discover that their father, now-retired cop John Winchester, intentionally set the fire that killed their mother, and Dean finally gets his revenge. Queens County District Attorney Castiel Novak knows that Dean Winchester is a suspect in John Winchester's murder - but he also knows that his own father was once a likely-corrupt judge who helped John escape punishment. Against what might be his better judgment, he lets himself get too close to Dean. And even as the cops build their case against Dean, he knows that, maybe, the right thing to do is help Dean Winchester get off (yeah okay pun intended).

I thought this was an interesting premise, however, I did not like this fic. Nothing to do with the writing or anything, but it just wasn't my vibe. I think maybe just the characterizations of each character kind of threw me off, but that just speaks to the world-building--the characters are written to be unlikable and so I didn't like them, and I think that is the mark of a good writer. It is definitely a good story though, I liked the twists and turns and the way people from the SPN universe were incorporated into the plot.

2. Let it Be by Persephoneshadow

word count: 143,239

Dean Winchester's life changed forever the night a demon appeared in his brother's nursery and killed his father. As a hunter Mary is determined to protect her sons from the evil she has run from her whole life - the same evil that took John. But Dean also trusts his protection to the angel in a trench coat he talks to in his dreams. Through years of tribulation and uncertainty, the Winchesters (plus a corgi that might be magic and an angel that may not be real) must fight monsters, demons, and even fate itself to survive as a family. Or: The one where Mary lives, Cas is there, and nothing and everything changes.

This was an interesting take on the spn timeline and I was all there for it. I find Mary's characterization in this fic interesting compared to John Winchester's characterization in the canon and how it kind of parallels but also very obviously contrasts (in the sense that Mary is written as an actual mother while John is interpreted canonically as a bad father). I dunno I just feel like that aspect of it takes away from the integrity of the canon which shouldn't even really matter because it's fanfiction and you're supposed to take creative liberties. But other than that I thought this one was very creative.

3. The Leap by FriendofCarlotta

word count: 82,932

1961: Sixteen years after the end of World War II, Berlin remains occupied by the Allied Forces — America, Britain, France and the Soviet Union. Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations. But Cold War Berlin is a troubled place, and as more and more residents flee Soviet-occupied territory for the West, Castiel’s superiors begin to make plans to build a wall. The wall would cut off East Berlin from the rest of the city — and leave Dean and Castiel on opposite sides.

After Ninety One Whiskey, I was a little scared about how this one was going to be even though it isn't a war fic like 91W was. However! it was not! I enjoyed that like 91W, it incorporates historically accurate information and events and is clearly well-researched. Its short and mostly sweet and I enjoyed it.

4. Living in Agony by ChasingRabits

word count: 120,136

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality. Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

Lowkey this one is just PWP but like good plot! I mean, relatively. The characterizations are interesting and creative liberties were definitely taken, but it's kind of sweet. I feel like some of the background stuff like characters' jobs are not really fleshed out and they're kinda just there to be there--it doesn't really feel like its important to the story at all. But you know how it be. At the end of the day, Dean and Cas are in love so that's all that matters.

5. take the bones, begin anew by JustStandingHere

word count: 103,254

What else was I supposed to say, Sam?” Dean asks him. “I’m not...look, Cas is my best friend, and I care about him. That’s it.” “And you renovated a house for him,” Sam continues. “And live with him.” or: a year in the life, in which it takes some time, but they figure it out

I like these kinds of fics, the ones that are more slice of life, I think that it accentuates the character dynamics rather than the plot. I feel like the Dean and Cas in this fic are very real characters in the sense that their thoughts and flaws are written very organically rather than stereotypically, and I really like that too. I mean, obviously there's the ever-present cliche moments but it adds to the charm of the story. Overall, 8/10!

6. The Nanny by Kimistry

word count: 119,676

He had style, he had flair, he had...well, actually, he didn't have any of those things. But he did have pretty green eyes, and Claire didn't want to murder him on sight (all Castiel was asking for these days). And that's how Dean became the nanny!

To be honest, even though this seemed interesting, it didnt speak to me. Its based off of a sitcom from the 90s which I appreciate, y’know like a little AU action, but it's pretty much a name substitution thing in terms of character, especially for Cas. I dunno, the characterizations are a little off but that's creative liberties, baby.

#destiel fic rec #destiel #supernatural

[lady-wallace]

Trapped: Whumptober Day 2 (Supernatural)

Some Cas whump for @whumptober today from a prompt I got from JaneWick77 on Ao3

Prompt: “Nowhere to Run” (cornered, confrontation)

Fandom: Supernatural

Character: Castiel

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

Masterpost

~~~~~~~

It always seemed that the worst things happened in abandoned warehouses. It turned out that this incident was no exception.

Of course, Castiel had already suspected it would be a trap—they all had—but there had been little choice but to check it out. Any lead on something to kill Abaddon, no matter how suspicious the tip might be. And since Sam was practically bedridden at the moment due to the toll the Trials were taking on his body, it was up to Castiel to see to this himself.

He inspected the outside of the warehouse, unable to determine if it was a trap or not. He sighed. There was nothing for it but to go in, he supposed.

His phone rang, startling Castiel slightly in the silence and he fumbled it out of his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Clarence, it's me," Meg's voice came over the line.

"Meg," Castiel greeted. "How is the search going on your end?"

"Not great," the demon replied. "But I haven't finished following all my leads yet. I just called to warn you that Abaddon was reported to be on the move; somewhere around the area you're searching."

Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Be careful, alright?" Meg huffed and ended the call before he could tell her the same.

Castiel put his phone away and allowed his blade to slide down his sleeve as he opened the door. It creaked and he stepped inside.

There was a sudden, mechanical snap, as something closed around his right ankle. Agony tore up his leg instantly.

Castiel cried out, stumbling further into the warehouse and collapsing to hands and knees, staring at the thing that had caught him.

A bear trap, carved with sigils that would hold him, when he reached out to try and pry the jaws open, the sigils flared to life, and only seemed to dig harder into his flesh.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a cruelly teasing voice sounded, as a figure stepped through the door, standing over the fallen angel. "A little bird caught in my trap?"

"Abaddon," Castiel growled, making to climb to his feet again, raising his blade.

The Knight of Hell simply smirked, and leaned over to yank the chain attached to the beartrap, effectively tugging Castiel off of his feet and sending a wave of agony through his leg as he was slammed flat to the ground.

Abaddon's foot ground into his wrist, trapping his blade hand.

"What's the matter? Trying to run away from our date already? And after all the preparations I did just for you. How about a little romantic lighting?"

She snapped her fingers and a ring of holy fire flared up around them, causing Castiel's eyes to widen. He must have missed the oil on the ground as well.

Abaddon leaned over and wrenched the angel blade from his hand before stepping on his chest, pushing him firmly onto his back.

"Now then, Castiel, let's get to know each other a little better, shall we?"

XXX

"Cas is in trouble."

Dean was conflicted, staring at the demon who had shown up on their doorstep. "What the hell are you even doing here, Meg?" he asked gruffly.

Meg's face looked annoyed as she folded her arms across her chest. "What does that matter? I'm here to tell you that your good friend, Castiel, has gotten himself into trouble—again."

"He was just looking into something—"

"Yes, in the exact area Abaddon has decided to take a walkabout in today," Meg said. "You knew it was a trap to begin with, didn't you?" she demanded.

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Does Abaddon have him?"

"I don't know, but if she doesn't yet, she's looking for whoever is going to show up at that warehouse today, and I'm sure she's ready."

"Dean, if Cas is in trouble, we should go provide backup at least."

Dean glanced over his shoulder quickly as Sam staggered into view, holding a blanket around his shoulders.

"Sammy, I told you to go rest."

"I'm feeling better," Sam blatantly lied as he muffled a cough. "Anyway, I tracked Cas' phone. He hasn't moved from that warehouse for the last hour."

"That's about the last time I was able to get ahold of him," Meg corroborated grimly. "This doesn't look good, boys."

Dean's stomach twisted, but before he could reply, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, and was relieved to see Cas on the caller ID. He showed it to the others. "There he is now." He answered the call. "Hey, Cas, was it a bust?"

"Hello, Dean."

Dean froze at the voice that obviously wasn't Cas's. Meg and Sam seemed to recognize the instant change in his demeanor and Meg swore under her breath.

"Abaddon," Dean growled.

"Correct," the Knight of Hell said, a smirk in her voice. "But don't worry, Cas is here too." A muffled grunt was heard through the phone and Dean clenched his fists.

"What the hell did you do to him, you bitch?" he demanded.

"Nothing yet—nothing permanent, anyway," Abaddon told him. "But that will change if you don't do what I ask."

"What do you want?" Dean growled.

"The key and the location to the bunker, Dean," the demon told him. "If I don't have those within the hour, I'm going to take your favorite pet angel and flambé his wings in holy fire."

Dean's hand tightened around the phone. "Listen—"

"No, you listen," Abaddon snapped. "One hour, Dean. You better bring the key."

The call ended and Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled it away from his ear. "Son of a bitch."

"Congratulations, you're gonna get Cas killed now," Meg snapped.

"You could have gone there to help him instead of coming here first," Dean shot back.

"And what, face Abaddon alone?" Meg demanded. "Need I remind you we're literally looking for a way to kill her? Together we might have a chance to distract her long enough to get Cas free but only if we work out a solid plan first."

"She's right, Dean," Sam said, already on the move. "Let's grab a couple things and head out."

"Sammy, you're not going anywhere," Dean snapped.

"You have any other backup?" the younger brother asked wryly.

Dean sighed and turned back to Meg. "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

XXX

Abaddon smirked as she ended the call. "Not to make you lose hope already, but it doesn't sound like they're really ready to come out here and trade you for that key," she said.

Castiel just glowered back from where he crouched on the ground, hands now manacled behind him as well.

Abaddon tossed his phone aside and slowly lowered her foot down onto the beartrap. Castiel gritted his teeth as she pressed it deeper into his flesh. "I might as well have my fun while I wait. After all, I only promised not to burn you alive. It's been a while since I've had an angel at my mercy. And such a handsome one at that too."

Castiel rolled his eyes as she leaned over. Abaddon grabbed his chin with her pointed red fingernails and wrenched him back around to face her. "What's the matter? I'm not your type?"

"Not really," Castiel muttered.

Abaddon smirked, running her hand mockingly up through his hair. "I don't really believe that. See, I happen to know you have a soft spot for a specific demon. You're not the pious angel you pretend to be, Castiel."

Cas glowered, wondering the last time he had pretended that, but refused to give her anything. He wouldn't bring Meg into this.

"Don't want to share grade school crushes? Fine." Abaddon said and backhanded him across the face so hard he toppled to one side and the Knight of Hell straddled him, his own angel blade pressed up under his chin. "Let's get to know each other then, shall we? I bet you have all kinds of interesting things to tell me."

She pushed his head back and trailed her fingers almost teasingly down his throat before slowly pulling his tie loose, then methodically snipped each of the buttons on his shirt until she could pull his shirt open. Abaddon made an interested sound, running her fingers over the warding tattooed on his ribs.

"Hiding yourself from the angels too, then? I guess it's just one less contingency I have to worry about coming for you."

"If you think the Winchesters will give up their key—"

"Oh, I don't know," Abaddon said sweetly as she teased the tip of the angel blade down his chest. "I can be pretty convincing when I want to be. And anyway." She left it pressing warningly into the tattooed warding. "If you prove to be too difficult, I can always call your former employers to come and pick you up."

Castiel's stomach twisted slightly at that suggestion, unwanted reminders of Naomi's drills boring in his head, but he still glowered at Abaddon.

The Knight of Hell sighed. "Not very talkative? Maybe you'd be more inclined to scream for me."

She moved like a flash and drove the angel blade through his shoulder. Castiel let out a surprised cry of pain as flesh parted around the angelic steel.

"That's better," Abaddon said, a cruel smile twisting her red lips as she torqued the blade and gained another scream from the angel.

"Now, how about you tell me some things I want to know about the Winchesters?"

XXX

"It's right up here," Sam said.

Meg leaned over the seat from where she sat in the back of the Impala, watching as the warehouse came into view. "I can sense Cas inside," she said. "Abaddon too."

Dean swore under his breath. "Any other demons around?"

"Not that I can tell at the moment," Meg replied. "But be on the lookout."

"And you're sure this plan will work?" Dean grunted as he parked a little bit away from the warehouse.

"Does it look like we have another choice?" Meg raised an eyebrow. "I'm just interested in getting Cas out of there in one piece. If you're scared, you don't have to come."

Dean glowered at her as he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. "Sammy, stay in the car."

"Dean, come on," Sam protested, already getting out, even as his legs shook.

"You can't shoot straight, sit down," Dean told him and opened the trunk, grabbing their stuff. "Let's do this."

Meg nodded and clutched her angel blade, following him toward the warehouse.

The door was slightly ajar and Dean pushed on it cautiously before he and Meg went through.

Meg was not happy at the sight that greeted them. Cas slumped on the floor in the center of a circle of holy fire, one leg caught in a beartrap, blood covering his torso, culminating from a stab wound to the shoulder.

Abaddon stood behind him, one hand clutched in Castiel's hair while the other held his own blade to his throat.

"About time you showed up. Though I can't say I'm not a little disappointed. Castiel and I were just getting to know each other," the Knight of Hell smirked and mockingly caressed the angel's face, making him pull a disgusted look.

Meg felt fury boil up in her. "Hands off, bitch."

Abaddon looked amused. "See, Cas? I told you she was sweet on you. Alright, sweetheart, how about you and Dean hand over that key and I don't slit your boyfriend's throat?"

Meg glowered and took a step forward, but Dean grabbed her shoulder to hold her back. "Easy," he warned.

Meg huffed and glanced up at the hunter. He gave an imperceptible nod and she folded her arms across her chest.

"Put the fire out and then we'll talk," Dean said.

"You think you're in any state to make demands?" Abaddon asked with a sweet smile as she pressed harder against Cas's throat with the blade. "Let me see the key first, Dean."

Dean glowered and reached into his pocket to pull out the box. He slid it open and presented the key to the bunker.

"Happy? Let's make the exchange then."

Abaddon hummed in approval and dropped Cas, stepping through the flames as they parted for her.

Meg wasted no time as Abaddon stepped forward, grabbing a bag of sand from nearby and throwing it across the flames before rushing toward Cas.

"You really can't stop getting into trouble, can you, Clarence?" she asked.

"Meg," Cas grunted, then gasped as she turned to the beartrap, wincing at the damage it had done to his ankle.

"Later, okay?" Meg said, shooting him a quick smile. "Let's get you out of here."

She pried the bear trap apart and Cas let out a barely bitten off cry, slumping back against the ground. Meg grabbed his uninjured arm, and heaved him up as Cas leaned on her heavily.

"Genuine article," Dean was saying to Abaddon as she inspected the key before Dean handed it over. "Can you at least give us a couple hours to grab our crap before you evict us?"

"Maybe if I'm feeling generous," Abaddon said. "Which, frankly, I'm not really in the mood."

The door to the warehouse slammed shut, and Meg swore.

"I thought we had a deal," Dean snarled.

Abaddon smirked. "What made you think I'd let you go, lover? Don't you think it's time you and I get to know each other a little more intimately?"

There was a spark in her hand and Dean shoved Meg and Cas backwards as the key in the box exploded.

Abaddon screamed as her entire arm and part of her face was blown off.

"GO!" Dean shouted as they rushed for the door.

"You little—" Abaddon chased after them, only to stop outside the door where Sam had been busy painting a devil's trap. Abaddon glowered, bloody and furious as they made their escape, Cas limping along with Meg's help. "You won't get away with this! I'll find your little hideaway and I'll rip out your guts like I did to all those other Men of Letters!"

"Oh, shut up," Meg snapped as she helped Cas into the car.

Sam quickly handed her the first aid kit and then climbed back in as Dean started the Impala and screeched away.

"That was closer than I would have liked," Meg muttered.

"It worked," Dean said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "How are you doing, Cas?"

The angel grunted. "Could be better, I'll recover though."

Meg rummaged through the medical supplies and came up with a wad of gauze that she shoved against Cas's shoulder. He gritted his teeth.

"Looks like it's my turn to patch you up, now, Clarence," Meg told him with a coy smile as she let her free hand rest pointedly on his bared chest.

The angel glanced away a bit bashfully and cleared his throat.

Dean rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror as Sam grinned. "Can you at least save the make-out session until we get back to the bunker?" the older brother grunted.

"I suppose," Meg said teasingly, making Cas's face go hot as he opened his mouth, unable to say whatever he had been planning to. Meg pressed against the wound in his shoulder again and he winced instead. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, angel."

Cas offered a small smile and settled in as Meg continued her ministrations.

~~~~

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#whumptober 2022 #no.2 #nowhere to run #cornered #confrontation #supernatural #fanfiction #castiel #cas whump #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #team free will #SPN season 8 #megstiel #abaddon #captured cas #one shots

[craycraybluejay]

Just finished the s15 spn finale for the first time... I don't cry like at all, but oh man, I sobbed and whimpered like a little kid. My heart hurts, my tummy hurts, my head hurts from emotion. That was. Ow. You think it'd hit less after putting it off for like two years? No way in hell. Fuckin tear tracks on my neck and chin. Sticky.

The.

The part where Sam goes on. I couldn't do that if my brother died. I'd kill myself. That's the thing you know. I think the younger is always more resilient, stronger. The younger always shows more emotion, but the older feels things just as deeply, if not more. But it's an older brothers job to be the strong one, more stoic. Sam survived Dean's death, with much on-screen grief agony. I don't think Dean would survive Sam's. But they met in heaven. God I wish something like that was real, that people you love weren't really gone when they're gone. I'm terrified with the idea of those few that I love dying before me. But its always the sibling, man. God I'm not normal about this. I want to run shaking into my own siblings arms just bc I know they would comfort me. Just bc I want to remind myself it's just a show, my own humans are alive, everything is OK. But how could it be ok? I watched through 15 seasons of so much pain and love. Cas confessed his love to Dean when he died, but when Dean died he told his love to Sam. As if the man didn't already know. As if they hadn't risked everything to save each other over and over. As if Dean didn't spend his entire life protecting his Sammy. God. Fuck. Thinking about it just makes me wanna cry again it's hard to put my emotions into the right words to fully say what I mean, you know? Say it without sounding downright mad. Or like. Sick in the head. How could you put it under useless words. It is love. It is powerful. It means everything. It's agony. It's life, and death, and the refusal to give up on it and each other. It's blood, and sweat, and watching the person you love most in the world suffer over and over again. I know what that's like. I live that. I tried to get away, to avoid being part of that. But as it turns out I'd a hundred times rather be in hell and try to save someone I love and watch them hurt than be away from that person. That I always have been able to take a good hard beating for that person but wanted to rip my insides outside of myself to witness it happen to them instead. I... I need to hug just that person. I want to go home. That person is home. I want to protect, and care, and give. Fuck man. I'm gonna be fucked up over this for days.

#spn finale #personal #mildly venty #sad rambles #spn #spn season 15 #sam and dean #forever and ever #saving people hunting things #supernatural finale #me being insane about shit #*wailing* #sobbing screaming crying #m not gonna sleep till i can call #fuck sleep i need assurance that ur alive and happy and taking care of yourself #not in a romantic way #but can you crawl inside my ribs #ow my heart #my poor heart #being a little bitch over spn again #imagine how fucking insane i would be if i had a mom or dad #take every opportunity to cry into her lap or something ;_; #maybe its best i dont have very many people in my corner #i feel things strongly. painfully. i dont know what id do with myself with such an abundance of love #im all sweaty and my eyes hurt urgh #delete later #for reals #im too real rn #my ass dean coded as hell its in my dna #and now i need a cigarette

[altagraye]

Big Big Love part 13

Maia age:28 appearance: 10 weeks pregnant (7 weeks after ch 12) 

Dean age:35 

Sam age:31 

Roslyn age: 3 

Quote: 

"I'm made of bad, bad, bad, bad blood." 

-'Bad Blood.' - Welshly Arms. 

TW!: cussing, medical terms, miscarriage scare, plot twists.

Ch 13: Bad Blood 

Sam: 

I couldn't keep Maia off my mind as Dean and I strolled down isle after isle of the supermarket. She's had a rough couple of weeks since she told us she was pregnant. She can hardly get out of bed, she's so fatigued. It makes me worry, a lot. Eating is difficult too, the vomiting is unpredictable and violent. Being unable to help her is the worst feeling. I don't know how Dean did it, it must've torn him apart when Ros came. A whole day and a half of merciless agony just to have her bleed out like that? No wonder he went insane. I pray a lot, hopefully this time it won't be so bad on her but that isn't looking likely. Dean and I have been through every medical 'Mega textbook we have twice and three times over. Nothing mentions symptoms as bad as what she has. Cas has even tried his powers on her but still nothing comes of it. I hate leaving her, Dean too. But between the both of us we need to get her something she can viably eat. 

She's more visible now, and we've been keeping track of how far along she is. Today, makes ten weeks. I love putting my hand on her belly. I still think about Jo and my other pup sometimes. But when I do think about them it just makes me hurt so I stuff it down. I never thought that I'd be able to be blessed with, Maia. I'm so happy that I'm actually scared, of letting down my guard.  I just want to hold her close to me and not let go, ever. Even if there's a chance that the pup isn't mine, I'd still be just as happy. Just having Maia, forever, is more than enough. I thought Dean and I wouldn't get along so well with our new circumstances. but it has been easier than I initially thought. Sometimes we get in nothing arguments when we aren't around Maia. Just to let off Alpha steam and stress because neither of us can help our Omega. 

Like now, seeing Dean shove half the contents of the ethnic isle into the cart is pissing me off. Last time he made spaghetti and meatballs for her, a few nights ago, she couldn't keep it down long enough. I leaned over in the cart and grabbed the box of spaghetti and put it back on the shelf. He turned around with a jar of vodka sauce, down in and noticed it was gone. 

"What the fuck, man? We need that." Dean said getting aggravated. I rolled my eyes and pushed the cart further on down the aisle, passing him. 

"No we don't, she can't even eat it anymore. It was working for a while but not now. We need to find something else." I said biting my tongue, trying to control the anger bubbling up within me. 

"Oh 'cuz you're so smart? You have any other suggestions?" Dean said, leaving the item. 

"No, more like trial and error." I told my older brother not knowing what to do. So far, she's been able to stomach PB & J sandwiches and occasional plain rice. Now that we were stocked up on that I was ready to leave. I needed to comfort her, my wife.  

Dean exhaled, looking over what we had. "Trial and error sucks all kinds of ass. How is it so different from when she had Roslyn?" He asked out loud. 

"Don't know. I heard It's different from pup to pup anyway. I think we're done here. Let's go home." I needed to curl up with Maia. I need to know she's okay. If she's alone and debilitated and suffering... just thinking about it kills me. We paid for our mountain of an overflowing cartful. That's $300 down. Charlie giving us these cards with the infinite amount of cash is a God-send. If Dean and I had to work with Maia in her state, that's be horrible. Not that I'm opposed to working or Dean either, but she just needs both of us. I piled the groceries into the back seat of the Impala and got in the passenger side. Dean revved Baby's engine. I combed a hand through my hair, still thinking of my Omega, shaking in our shared bed, unable to find comfort.  

I was snapped out of my thought process, Dean's hand making contact with my chest, patting it. 

"Cheer up Champ, you're gonna be a great Dad." he said checking the rearview mirror so he could back up. Dean hates these smaller parking spaces, especially since driving the Impala is equivalent to driving a boat on land. His compliment took me by surprise. 

"Thanks, but, what makes you so sure it's mine?" I asked him seriously flashing a weak smile. My thoughts festering further. We exited the parking lot, Dean focused on driving for a few seconds, checking his surroundings so he could make a turn. 

"Well, technically you slid into home base first." His eyes flashing to me for a second, then going back to the road. 

"But I know you're hoping It's yours." I said admitting what he didn't want to. My attention focusing on the scenery around us, the woods being particularly peaceful in the morning dew. 

"What? Nah! I got my hands full with Roslyn." He was saying one thing and thinking another. If there was one person Dean couldn't fool, it's me. I've known him like that back of my hand for way too long. He and I knew that. We were silent the rest of the way there. Dean helped me carry in the groceries through the garage. It was weird not hearing a hello from Maia. But it was highly likely that she didn't want to strain her voice from our bedroom. The Bunker is massive after all.  

My heart sunk when Roslyn came out of nowhere, visibly upset and crying hysterically. Her face all red from screaming and crying. This behavior was unusual even for her. She doesn't scare or get upset easy, Dean thinks she might present as an Alpha when she gets older. She doesn't throw toddler fits to get her point across so seeing her like this was scaring the Hell out me and Dean tenfold.  

Dean got down to her level, kneeling, and she gave him the biggest little bear hug. He cradled her head in his chest.  

"Hey Troublemaker. What has you so spooked, baby?" He asked her. In between big drops of tears and sniffles she responded in her classic pup-talk. 

"Mama hurt. Fall down." And continued to cry. Dean gave me concerned look, kissed her forehead and called out for Cas. I bolted down the hallway. This is the worst and most typical thing that could have happened. Murphy's law gets me every chance it gets, without fail. From what I could hear, Cas came and Dean ordered him to take Ros away and keep her safe. He didn't need her in any more distress.  

I found Maia, collapsed down onto the kitchen floor. Her head had a pretty good sized gash from the fall. I didn't smell any blood coming from below her so a miscarriage is unlikely. I turned her on her back, pressing two fingers into her neck to check her pulse. It's weakened. I started to tear up. Why does this shit always happen to us? We can't ever catch a break. I don't know what's wrong. I tried calling her by her dynamic, desperate for her to answer. 

"Omega!" Nothing. I heaved her up into my grasp. We need to go to the E.R. That's a good hour's drive from the Bunker. Dean came rushing in, seeing me carry her limp form. "She won't wake up. I-I don't know why." He had a mile-long stare, not breaking his sight from our shared lover. He grabbed the Impala keys out of his jean-pocket. 

"Jesus-Christ." He uttered to the situation. I piled into the backseat with her propped up against my chest. I re-examined her head wound. I think it's shallow enough for me to heal it. We departed down the highway, full throttle, as I began to lick at her wound.  

Sam: 

Dean opened the front door to the E.R. I couldn't move my feet fast enough. I checked her pulse multiple times on the way over, it got a little better but she was still unresponsive. Dean stopped at the front desk for credentials. I was able to set Maia down in room number three, when Dean joined up with us. One Beta nurse came in to check on her. They were low staffed today.  

"Sir, you need to wait outside, there's a waiting room around the corner on your left." He started to explain.  

"No. He stays. We're staying." Dean came to my defense. the Beta nurse looked confused and a bit annoyed. I'm guessing he wasn't fond of Alphas. The beta nurse continued to hook her up to machines. he stripped her shirt, put an IV in her arm on my side of her. Put one of those pulse and oxygen readers on her index finger. A canula in her nostrils even though he said she was breathing pretty well on her own. He adjusted the setting to low.  

"This facility has a 'one mate per patient' policy. Someone has to go." Now I was getting irate. There's no way I or Dean was going to leave this room. I flipped my wrist over and scrunched up my sleeve showing the persistent Beta my mark. Dean rolled his eyes, a bit embarrassed but followed suit. The Beta was unphased.  

"Welcome to the club, Alphas. I have a tramp stamp with my partner too. Nothing new, fellas."  

"Ugh, Gross! It's not like that at all. Look dumbass." Dean showed him Maia's Triskelion. And the Beta scanned over the room, looking at all three of us. He shrugged. 

"Whatever floats your banana boat. I don't judge. I'm just here for the health insurance benefits. no I'm just kidding. I actually like helping stupid knot-heads like you guys. Shame too, pretty boy." He pointed in my direction. I was not in the mood to have some Beta flirt with me, especially since I didn't swing that way anyhow. Even though being marked by the Triskelion didn't make it look that way.  

"Shut your mouth and do your job." I told him. He shrugged again and went over to a closet to get another instrument. 

He put a band around her belly, listened and watched another monitor. where he placed it, a strong rhythm was heard. It almost made me cry, but I stuffed it down. That's a sound I wasn't able to hear with Jo. I don't think I've heard something so wonderful before. I looked at Dean across from me, smiling up a storm. I couldn't help but smile back. The Beta furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, confused. He moved the hockey puck sized circle to the right two inches. The beating changed, more faint, strained. My heart sunk again. I couldn't stop my nerves, my boot kept making annoying little sounds on the waxed linoleum floors. My leg shaking like a leaf. That weak heart beat wasn't good. I kept biting at my nails and staring at the Beta. He made a hmph sound and put his hands on his hips. 

"What?" Dean asked, getting just as impatient as I felt.  

"I'm gonna need another cuff. There's two buns in this oven. Someone's been busy." he said leaving the room to retrieve another instrument. I could have slapped myself. This whole time I thought there was only one pup. I never considered the possibility of twins. The Beta came back with another cuff and put it on the previous spot. I listened closely. The drumming was still weakened. My lip started to quiver and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.  

Dean noticed it too and put on a brave face for me. But I knew I could see in his eyes he was breaking slowly. Maia, why aren't you awake?  

"Alright, the sonographer should be in soon to check on all that." The Beta gesticulated to Maia's belly like it was a mess he didn't want to deal with. He made me growl, I want his ass fired. Dean was just as pissed at him as I was, if not more probably. But he kept his composure for now.  

"Hey, what was your name again?" Dean asked squinting his eyes and tilting his head. Dean is going to get his name, and give him a piece of his mind on his lunch break, away  from cameras and people, so that he doesn't get arrested for Alpha/Beta battery.  

"Hugo. Hugo Riviera." He told Dean. Dean gave him a huge fake smile and thanked him. When the door was closed and Hugo walked away, Dean broke his demeanor. 

"Hugo, is a dick-bag. I'm gonna enjoy pounding his asshole Beta face in a bench." He nodded to himself thinking his decision to do so was a good idea. I gave my brother a weak smile. Dean leaned over to Maia's head and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She still isn't awake.  

"I dunno if you can hear me, 'Mega, but. You've got two pups to fight for, alright? Sammy and I love you. We love you so much. You gotta wake up soon, sweetheart." He told her sleeping form stroking her fingers with his thumb and pressing the back of her hand to his lips. he stared at her belly as I grabbed onto her hand on my side of her through the raised bedrails. I rested my forehead on the cold rails, listening to the two rhythms, the one closest to me- a lead singer. The one closer to Dean- a backup that's running out of breath.  

We sat listening to them, mulling over the predicament.  

"Sammy? The one heartbeat is scaring the shit out of me." Dean confessed his voice starting to crack. I lifted my head off the rail and ran my fingers through my hair, my eyes glossy and my nose running.  

"Me too Dean." There was a knock at the door and a Beta woman came in pulling a mobile sonogram machine behind her. She was oddly and disgustingly very chipper.  

"Hello! My name is Sarah, I'll be taking care of your Omega today. Aw, are you two having a moment? I can come back in a few minutes." She suggested sensing my and Dean's emotions. I got up, moving out of her way so she could bring her machine over and look at the pups.  

"No, please. Come in." I told her. Sarah shrugged and closed the door.  

"Alrighty then" she said and brought her machine close to Maia, checked to make sure she had all her supplies and turned off the light. She lifted up Maia's shirt and took off the cuffs. Sarah squeezed out some gel onto her stomach and pressed the imaging wand on Maia. Sarah, still paying attention to her screen, moving the wand around and pressing a button on her machine to capture what she was seeing.  

"So, who's the lucky man? Daddy to be?" She tried to break the ice. Dean and I hesitated as she snapped more pictures.  

"Uh, we're not sure, exactly." I said rubbing my thumb into my sweaty palms. Sarah raised an eyebrow. 

"Is that so? Well, no worries. I'm sure you'll find out soon." She told us before making an excited gasp. 

"Why hello there little kumquat. See, right as rain." She turned the monitor screen so we could get a better look. I could just make out the outline of human features, so tiny but definite. I had to remember to take a breath in. Dean spoke up next. 

"Isn't there supposed to be two? Where's the other one? I only see one circle...thing." Dean struggled to find the proper name for placenta.  

"Oh, you mean placenta? The other one is in there. Let me just scoot on over here. There we go. It's common for twins to have separate placentas, most people get scared when they don't see another pup right next to the first one. but it's perfectly normal. Hmmmm, how far along did you say she was?" Sarah said, concern showing in her voice as she hovered over the second pup, visibly smaller than the one we just saw.  

"10 weeks." Dean and I said simultaneously.  

"What a funky dunk. You, little walnut are supposed to be the same size as your womb-mate. Hehe sorry I don't get to make that joke often. There's plenty of room to grow and it's still early so I don't know why there's such a size difference. Pup A, the kumquat is the proper size. But, Pup B, looks like it's stuck in week 7. Has your mate been eating properly?"  She asked. 

" Actually, no. It's hard for her to stomach most foods. This isn't her first pregnancy and it's way different from her last one. the vomiting is ruthless. Today we went to the store to shop for foods she could eat. when we came home we found her.. knocked out." I explained exchanging looks with Dean on occasion. 

"Aww that sounds horrible. Well, we'll get her some pills that will help with the nausea. Little Walnut needs to grow big and strong like your brother or sister. I'll get these images to the on-site OBGYN asap. She'll know more about why this is happening and will explain it in detail. Alrighty Momma all done. You need to wake up though. Do you guys want a copy?" Sarah asked wiping the gel off our mates' stomach. Sarah put the cuffs back on and turned the light back on, making me wince from the sudden brightness.  

"Yeah we'll take a copy." Dean said.  

"Sure thing. No problem. Congratulations, sirs." she told us as she left. I got back up and moved to my side when the door closed again.  we sat there for about an hour before the doctor came in. 

Dean: 

All these waiting games were killing me. I need straightforward answers but most of all I need Maia to wake the fuck up. I thought just hearing the different heart beats scared the shit out of me. Seeing the size difference made me want to break something in the room. Thankfully the doctor who came in to talk to us sounded like she was a no-nonsense chick. I was thoroughly fed up with Sarah and especially that Hugo bastard.  

The Doc came in and sat in between Me and Sammy, at the foot of Maia's bed.  

"Hi, I'm Dr. Jennifer Janey. I saw the pictures. And there is one thing that comes to mind if my calculations are correct. You guys are the threesome right?" she introduced herself briefly and shook our hands, pretty firm for a woman, must be an Alpha. A flash of annoyance came over me as I stood leaning over Maia's bed railing. My ass was aching from being numb, sitting all this time. 

"You know how wrong that sounds, right?" I told her. 

"Sorry, word travels fast here, especially with Hugo- the-Gossip-queen. Sorry about him. Look I don't want to beat around the bush here. I know what that mark means. How much of a time gap was it when you three had sex?" A chill ran up my spine making me squirm a little. I hate this mark making everyone think we screwed Maia at the same time. Ugh. Sammy spoke up first. 

"Uh. Okay. I had sex with her first." he scratched the back of his head, he was embarrassed to talk about this.  

"Did your knot lock?" She asked shamelessly. Sam started to blush but nodded. Dr.Janey made a mental note before swiveling in her chair to face me. 

"Later that night, I screwed her too. What does this have to do with anything?" I asked wanting to replace the word screwed with raped. I had no control over my black-eyed self. I just didn't care, I stole what I wanted and what I wanted I got. I frowned remembering the bruises I'd left on her.  

"Knot?" She asked. The question snapping me out of my deep thought process.  

"Yeah, more than once." I said. She looked at me more intensely. 

 "Alright, I lost count once I hit five." Confessing something that Sammy didn't even know yet. he gave me a pissed off look realizing just how rough with Maia I had to be to get to that point. 

"the truth shall set you free. Although rare, there's a condition that happens when two different males, have sex with a heated Omega in a short period of time. It's called Hetero-paternal Superfecundation." she paused to make sure we were following. 

I leaned over the rail more, "Did you just quote Mary Poppins?"  

"Hetero-what?" Sam asked equally confused. If Brainiac didn't know what she was talking about then this had to be extraordinary. She exhaled getting aggravated with us. 

"No. It's called Hetero-paternal Superfecundation. When you had sex the first time, an egg released like normal, your swimmer attached itself to that egg, making Pup A. later that night, your mate was still fertile-myrtle when you, had sex with her. She released another egg and your swimmer attached itself to it, making Pup B." she explained looking both of us in the eyes and switching her eye contact between Sammy and I as she talked. 

"The pups inside your mate right now are half siblings. Two differently fathered pups in the same batch, essentially." she ended. 

"Holy crap. I'm a father." Sam said, shock clear on his face. And so am I, again. 

"How does this explain the different sizes? And why won't our mate wake up? Is she, sick?" I said needing to sit back down.  

"That's what I'm stumped on. I'm sorry I don't have all the answers. Somethings just happen. You two look exhausted. Why don't you grab yourselves something to eat at the cafeteria and think things through? Hopefully your wife will be awake by then. Congratulations, guys." She said as she shook our hands again and left. I rubbed my forehead and sighed. Why does the weirdest shit always happen to us? I kissed Maia's hand again and headed for the door.  

"I need some fucking pie. You comin'?" I asked Sammy staring at Maia's stomach for a moment. Sam didn't answer me but stood up anyway. Maia doesn't look like she's going to wake up in the next thirty minutes. we'll eat and be back in no time.  

I finished my slice of pumpkin pie mulling over the Docs words. Two pups inside her with two different fathers. I'm excited to be a Dad again but I can't help but wonder who's is the weaker one? That terrifies me. What if it dies? Walking back to Maia's room I overheard an obnoxious conversation and recognized it to be that ass-hat Hugo. Good he's on lunchbreak. My time to give him a face-lift. I started to walk closer to his direction, Sammy tagging along but not as invested as I was. I shoved my hands in my front pockets, acting casual. 

"I know right? Have you heard about the admission in room three? What a circus show! I mean they're brothers and that omega's pregnant with both their pups at the same time! What a typical Omega whore. How much of a slut do you have to be, am I right?" Said Hugo to one of his co-workers. On the inside I was boiling but I kept my composure as best as possible.  

"Hey, Hugo, right? We need to talk." I took the collar of his blue scrubs and heaved him out of his chair. the Beta gave a whimper. Sam heard what he said too, patting Hugo on the back and whispering something in his ear. 

"You're going to choke on those words, asshole." He told him.  

I pushed him out of the double doors, sending his worthless ass to the pavement where he belonged. Sam picked him up  holding his head up for me to swing. 

"So Hugo, what did you call our wife again?" I asked cracking my knuckles. He whimpered. 

"I didn't mean it, honest! You two have a wonderful mate. A real peach." He tried to weakly defend himself. 

"C'mon, nobody likes liars. 'Course you meant it. Say it Beta, let me hear it again. Now!" I rose my voice and he flinched. 

"I called her a whore and a slut." His voice disappeared cowardly at the insults but it was more than enough for me. He yelped like the pussy he was when I cracked his nose. I gave him another on for good measure. Sam threw him to the ground, not being worth the effort to beat. I leaned over in his face.  

"Good Beta. Stay Beta. If I see your ass around her room again, I'll make sure you need a follow up with your dentist, alright?" I told him. He nodded fervently.  

That was a fun let off of steam but worry still festered in the back of my mind. We made it back to Maia's room when I saw Sarah in there with her, the tech from earlier. Maia's stomach was exposed and Sarah was mumbling something to it. Major red flags.  

Sam and I entered her room, trying to catch Sarah off guard.  Sam closed the door behind us making her jump. What the fuck are you up to, little weasel? She turned around trying to recover Maia's stomach.  

"Hi guys. Back so soon?" she asked.  

"Oh that's not how this works, bitch. Don't act like we didn't just see that. why are you here?" I am done with everybody's shit today. 

"I thought I forgot something. but I didn't so I'll leave." she said shuffling her feet. When Sam reached for her, she held out a hand, pinning us to the walls behind us. She slowly pulled Maia's shirt up, revealing her small bump. I couldn't break free. 

"I should call DCF on you two. Abusing your child while it's still in the womb. How cruel, even for a gal like me." she blinked her eyes, black as coal. Demon. Fuck.  

"I expected you to catch on more quickly, Dean. I guess you really do love this Omega-harlot. Aww it's alright guys. She's in better hands now. I mean have you ever seen such a beautiful piece of Hell?" She caressed Maia's stomach and bent down, kissing her flesh.  

"Get your filthy hands off her!" Sam and I interjected simultaneously trying harder to break free, but nothing let up. 

"I'll make sure little walnut grows nice and strong. For behold darkness shall cover the Earth. As the old dick used to say."  

"What does a demon want with our mate?" Sam asked in an attempt to distract the black-eyed bitch. It was working. Sam and I were able to pry our heads away from the wall. 

"You Alphascan be so thick-headed. She's carrying the world's first were-cambion. Sired by a Knight of Hell. The intense pregnancy symptoms, the difference in sizes, the incapacitated 'Mega. Hell, I bet your angel hasn't been able to heal her either? That's why she's here. I'll make sure your pup gets proper care. Momma needs to down gallons of demon blood to catch up. Congratulations, suckers." Sarah touched Maia hand and vanished Maia disappearing with her.  

My and Sam's body's fell to the ground, being released from the demons grip. NO NO NO! this can't be happening. She's gone?! How did I not see this coming? Of course knotting Maia when I was south of the border would end up like this. This is my fault. it's always my fucking fault! I put my fist through the drywall. She's gone, because of me. Her life is in jeopardy again, because of me. Sam's pup is in danger too. I took the nearest chair and broke it over the corner of a wall when Sam's phone rang. What the fuck could it be now?! he answered, my chest was heaving and I ran my hands through the back of my hair. 

Sam's eyes widened, he put it on speaker so I could hear too. 

"Fret not young Anakin, Padme is safe with me. My apologies about Sarah, Sister-wives. She's new. Really I'm not the villain here. Your sweet little Omega needs some proper nutrients. Ta-ta for now, Papa-Moose and Papa-Squirrel."  

"CROWLEY?! I swear to fucking God, if she's not in one piece!-" the line clicked dead before I could get out another word. I let out a guttural growl, I could feel it in my bloodstream, I was turning feral. 

Maia: 

I couldn't smell anything. My whole body was sore so I groaned. My head ached like I had hit it on something. I yanked my arm up to try and nurse my throbbing skull but it wouldn't budge. My eyes opened, light flooding my vision. One of those huge hospital lights was above my head. I craned my neck down to see why I couldn't move off this gurney. Where was I? I was just about to make pancakes for Ros, right? My head panged, making me wince and slam my head back down to the softness below me.  

"Ugh, Dean? Sam? Alphas?!" I called out. I heard distinct clicks of dress-shoes come closer to me. And the scent of whiskey but very different, potent. and not Dean's. 

"Try not to squirm, Dear. You'll hurt your pups." Said the voice getting closer. his accent was thick and I didn't recognize the voice. This is bad, very bad. I started to cry, thinking that this was one of Felix's compadre's come for revenge. Wait, pups? How does this freak even know I'm pregnant? And how does he know I'm having two? Or, maybe more? He hovered over me, I squinted my vision focusing. The man smiled back at me eerily. 

"Hello, Darling. Pleasure finally meeting you. Dean wouldn't stop talking about you when he went on his hiatus. Crowley's the name, King of Hell. Welcome home." 

End chapter 13. 

#Big Big Love Series #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #spn fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural abo #supernatural #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!dean #alpha!dean winchester

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Caged - Chapter 1 - Medical whump - Whumper turned Caretaker - Omegaverse - Supernatural

Alright, we made it! So this is already posted on ao3 and its still continuing, I'm just writing each chap as I go so any ideas would be greatly appreciated!

{ Synopsis: Dean is sick and not like any omega the world has ever come across but Cas is willing to try and save his life. Only one problem: Dean is feisty and refuses to be helped, each treatment is torture. He fights and runs every chance he gets, hurting himself in the process. (:

Basically, Dean being sick and injured and Cas caring for him. Not consensually tho. Essentially just 'Forced Care'.} 

warnings: See masterlist for each chap warnings

Chap specific warnings: Forceful kidnapping, Non-consensual administration of drugs. Restraints. Needles.

Everything hurt.

Agony was all he knew.

It had been for a while now.

It felt as though his very insides were trying to twist their way through his flesh. Violent ripping sensations that spread to his entire body.

Often, he wondered if plunging a knife in there would dappen it somehow… If anything in this world could make it ease just for a moment.

He had long since got used to covering it up, even now, Dean faked a smile and continued to sip his coffee. It was one of his all-time favorite brands, a little more expensive than he could afford but worth it, nonetheless.

“I’m not lonely,” he said quietly, sitting at their dining table. Usually, he wouldn’t worry about Sam catching onto his pain, but today something was different.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam placed a plate of bacon in front of Dean and then took a seat himself. “It’s just that we haven’t seen Dad in weeks because of business, and I have late shifts in the hospital. None of us are ever really home except you. It’s not like you have a mate or… an alpha, despite your intense heats. The last one almost killed you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Dean shot back.

Sam gave him one of his many bitch faces. “Yes! It did. I was out working, and you told nobody how bad it was. I found you on the floor, writhing like you needed to get out of your skin yet nearly unconscious from the pain, with a fever that way surpassed the normal temp. Your lucky my friend Cas who is a head doctor at an omega stabilization facility had come home with me for drinks that night or you would have been toast.”

Dean brought a piece up to his mouth, ignoring what Sam had just said and savoring the smell before taking a bite. A stray drizzle of grease rushed down from the corner of his mouth. He quickly swallowed the bacon with another mouthful of coffee.

He turned his gaze back to his brother. Something wasn’t right.

“Sam? I thought you told me that you have morning shifts all week?”

“Uh, I do.”

Dean completely abandoned his food, narrowing his eyes on him. He swore he could see tears brimming in Sam’s eyes. Why was he sad?

The silence nudged Sam to continue.

“I took a day off. I need to be here for this.” The last part was barely a whisper. He waved it off. “Just eat your food Dean.”

Dean wasn’t one to let a plate of bacon get cold, so he started back at it. Each piece warmed his insides and made him feel cozy. God, he could live like this forever… he had everything he ever wanted. Sam, Baby, bacon, an actually decent apartment instead of a crappy hotel and hella good coffee—the essentials.

Across from him, Sam kept picking at his rabbit food, playing with it more than eating. It wasn’t like him, but it wasn’t unusual either. The thing that was unexpected though, were the sad smiles that kept flicking on his face every time he looked at Dean.

What the hell was going on? Did he accidentally scratch baby or something?

They finished up and Sam began to put away the plates. “I found something the other day. You know, I think you’d want to see this, Dean.”

“Sure.”

Sam returned, fiddling with his pocket before fishing out a picture and tossing it in Dean’s direction. He made sure he captured the smile that crossed Dean’s face.

He picked it up so carefully in his hands, running his eyes over every pixel with a sad fondness. “Me, you and Mum, at the beach... Your just a baby here.”

“Yeah..." Sam chuckled. "I was pretty small. I don't remember that day but Mom looks so happy in that one.”

Dean nodded in agreement, staring at the image for a while longer. He needed pictures like these… He remembered her vividly but sometimes he couldn’t figure out how certain features looked, her nose, her eyes, her smile, they got distorted in his head from time to time. It was a sweet image really, Mary holding little Sammy in her arms while Dean played in the waves just behind her. She held a smile that was so impossibly bright, it made Dean crumble as he looked. In fact, he was so focused on the image that he almost missed Sam checking his phone and his brother's face saddening further.

“Talk to me.” He comforted.

Before anything managed to leave Sam’s lips, he stood up from his seat and wandered over to Dean, pulling him in for a tight embrace.

They didn’t usually hug.

Sam’s voice was patchy as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, I hope that someday you’ll thank us.”

Dean shoved him off and levelled with him. His tone dropping lower and harsher than intended. “Cut the crap Sam, what’s going on?”

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Sam jumped away, hiding his face from Dean. The room fell sickly silent, and yet it was so loud that it seemed to echo and bounce off the walls, only interrupted by the fleet of footsteps making their way in.

The first thing Dean noticed were the two bulky men dressed in white scrubs and how their faces resembled empathy but also a unique sternness. The next thing that drew his attention was a guy in a suit and trench coat, rather than the usual hospital attire. His eyebrows were creased at just the right angle to scream nothing but unyielding concern.

A foreign part of Dean found his presence slightly comforting but the rest cowered.

He knew what this meant. Where they came from.

He stood, his fists clenched at his sides and a burning feeling of rage bubbled up. He tried to hide it as best he could, but clearly not enough as the orderlies exchanged a glance.

The guy in the trench coat extended his hand. “My name is Dr Castiel Novak but you can call me Cas, it’s nice to formally meet you Dean.”

No, no no no nonono.

“Yeah, well forgive me if I don’t feel the same way.”

He could already see this playing out in his head, and he was NOT going to go. He wouldn’t allow himself to become some vegetable rotting in the Omega stabilization facility for all eternity.

This was exactly what Dad was trying to protect him from. Why he wasn’t allowed to be an omega in the first place.

He knew what happened to omegas in these facilities, how their autonomy was stolen away like a thief in the night, followed by gradual dehumanising treatments designed to get you to yield or break… but perhaps by the time you’d yield, you were already broken. Some part of you forever gone and unrecoverable. That was not the type of life he wanted.

He took a step back.

The bitch had the audacity to take a step closer, cocking his head to the side, acknowledging Dean’s distress, making it almost irresistible not to find a sense of trust in him, even if just from his eyes alone.

His voice was gravely but gentle, “I understand that you've been struggling lately, and we are worried about your well-being and physical health. The higher ups in Omega Care have reviewed your case and there is a warrant out for your stabilization. For your own safety, it has been declared that it would be best for you to receive care in a special omega trained facility.”

Dean took a few more steps backwards until his back pressed up against the wall. Fuck<.i>. He was cornered. His body betrayed him as it began to shake.

He could do it; he couldn’t go there.

His life would be ruined.

Before he had a chance to control his mouth, words shot out. “No! you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid we can.” He neared again; it was suffocating. Suddenly the whole world was closing in on him. His hands waved around his chest in the universal language of not getting enough air.

Castiel took another step, but Dean screamed to stay away, flinging his arms about trying to control his breathing on his own. He was growing more desperate by the moment as everything sunk in.

“Sam?” He looked to his brother for help but was met with nothing. He was standing on the other side of the room, useless, tears flowing out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry Dean, but you need help.” He said in between wiping the water away. “I’ve seen how you refuse to be submissive even though it’s in your nature, how you refuse to get help during your heats, how dad forced you onto high dose suppressants at an early age and so now your body is all out of whack form being wrongly treated, this way you live, its unsustainable. It will kill you.”

“That- I can explain that, please don’t do this.” He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, he would have hit Sam had there not been orderlies in the room who would use it as another thing to lock him away for—to fix.

Dr. Novak held his hands out in front of him, the palms of his hands facing up, an open gesture to show that he had no ulterior motive. “I know this feels unfair, Dean, but we genuinely believe this is the best course of action for you. With proper care and treatment, you can find the stability you deserve.”

“How dare you.” He hissed towards Sam. He wanted to smash something—to just get away.

“Calm down.” One of the orderlies spoke with authority laced in his voice, trying to maintain a safe environment.

Dr. Novak held eye contact with him, his posture calm and collected like he wasn’t repelled by his anguish. “It’s understandable that you’re feeling betrayal at this time. but we’re here to help you, not punish you. Deep breaths okay, just like me.” He started to imitate the breaths as an example, hoping Dean would follow.

“Go fuck yourself.” Dean cried, pressing his back into the wall, wishing he would just sink into it.

But the Doctor continued, “We get that this is hard to accept but we have your best interests at heart. The facility can provide the specialized care and support you need.”

He had to get out of here. Now.

Dean's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route. His heart thundered in his chest, and a sense of urgency welled up inside him. He couldn’t go there, he needed freedom. He’d do anything for freedom.

The two orderlies, strong and composed, stood nearby, their eyes trained on Dean, prepared for any sudden movements.

Dr. Novak’s expression softened, but his resolve remained firm.

“Dean, just come with us, okay? Let us help you.”

“I will never let you help me!”

His head spun, nothing seemed reasonable anymore except for escape. It was his only option.

When their dad got sloppy drunk and left them for weeks on end to fend for themselves after their mother’s death, Dean had stayed because he had to. Sam still needed him. But now, nothing was keeping him here.

He lunged forward, but the orderlies reacted swiftly, grabbing hold of his arms to prevent him. He used every ounce of energy he had to struggle against their grip, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Easy, easy.” One of them grunted.

“Let me go! Pleaseee.”

The orderlies overpowered him, restraining him with gentle but firm strength and eventually his resistance wavered.

He wasn’t strong enough…. Well, that’s what they thought.

“We don’t want to hurt you, Dean, but we can’t allow you to endanger yourself. It’s for your own safety.

“You don't understand... nobody does. I just want to continue living my life.”

Sam spoke up from the back. “Don’t fight them Dean, it makes this harder on all of us.”

How dare he! How fucking dare he!

Dean knew what he was going to do when the time presented itself. So, he took one last glance at their house —at baby —at Sam, focused on the taste of bacon and coffee that still lingered on his tongue, so no matter how long he would be there for, he would remember all the things he loved.

Dr. Novak approached him with empathy, his voice filled with understanding. He took one of his hands and squeezed it, letting him know that he was not alone.

“It's not forever, just a step towards finding the freedom you're searching for.”

There was his opportunity. In a heartbeat, he shifted his weight and flung his elbow straight at Dr. Novak’s face. A small cry escaped the doctor's lips as he staggered backward. Dean turned, dodging the orderlies quick attempt to control him. They were trained —but he was trained better. He’d been taught to fight since the day he was born. His father had made sure of that.

He quickly gained leverage and punched one in the face then kicked the other in the stomach to release his arm. He didn’t need to think before he pelted for the door. Strong forceful hands found their way around his waist and jolted him away. Sam was holding him and goddamnit that kid refused to let go.

“Sam!” Dean screamed breathlessly. “If you don’t fricken let go, I’m gonna —”

His pants and struggles outweighed his words. He was freakishly aware of the orderlies gathering themselves and approaching. He had to do something now, but Sam wouldn’t give.

“Please!” A breath, nothing was happening, “Sam, if you let them take me, I can never forgive this.”

The sting of something sharp being stabbed into his shoulder made him hiss and throw his weight in a last attempt to get away.

He was too late.

“Sammy, please.” He cried, aware of how his body started to unwillingly weaken. “Don’t—” He felt himself go limp in his brothers’ arms; a stray tear rolled down his cheek. “Don’t let them take me.”

Dr. Novak's remorseful face despite the blood that flowed down from his nose, was the last thing Deean saw before his eyes forced themselves shut.

~

When he edged on consciousness once more, he started to hear voices around him and feel the sensations around his body. Something was pressing against his waist then the length of his legs, a second later it was pulled away. A persistent beeping faded in and then some voices.

“Good.”

Oh god, he recognised that voice—Castiel. That son of a bitch. He wanted to wrap his hands around that doctor and squeeze. Hard.

Dean tuned into the conversation. Perhaps it could offer some information he could use as leverage.

“Run the measurements up to the manufacturing sector, tell them I don’t care about costs, I just need the equipment mentioned in my previous email. Tell them that it must be the perfect quality and I needed it yesterday!”

“Yes, of course, Cas. I have also put the rest of Mr Winchesters team on standby, they will come within moments notice if you press the button.”

“Thanks Gabe.”

Dean could hear a set of footsteps fade then stop. The screeching of a heavy door as it was opened and then shut once more, not failing to miss the dreadful sound of it locking. His body betrayed him, he could feel as panic set in. He was completely trapped and without escape.

He hated that the beeping from the machine beside him immediately increased, which drew Castiel’s attention.

“Dean?” He could tell by the way Castiel had said it, that it was filled with worry and a hint of dread. That only made Dean so much more furious. He didn’t want to be pitied, he didn’t want to be looked down upon, he just wanted to go home.

A what-was-supposed-to-be comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder. White hot anger boiled up in Dean so fast that he shot his eyes opened and lunged. Firm restraints restricted his actions and to his dismay, no matter how much he struggled they didn’t give.

No no no no!

Cas took a step back, calm as he fucking aways was, that prick. “Dean! Dean, stop!”

Some weird feeling hinted on the surface, something about his commanding voice made the words linger on the tip of his head. But it was only slight, barely even noticeable and Dean was able to power through it and keep struggling.

Needed freedom…At any cost… … can’t be here… not a weak omega made to be bred.

Cas was quick to fasten all the restraints so now he could barely move and then throw himself on top, trying to halt Dean’s desperate movements with his weight.

Again, the strange feeling pulsed, too small to truly understand it but enough for him to recognise that something was different. Perhaps Cas’s body was kind of warm against his.

“Dean.” Castiel said firmly.

His head shifted back. No no no no no.

He struggled.

He wouldn’t give in; his father would be furious. He was a solider, he wasn’t allowed to be weak—to submit.

Cas spoke with urgency, boarding on the edge of begging. “You must stop. We are trying to lean away from giving you any drugs, but we will if we have to. You understand we cannot let you hurt yourself.”

Dean could barely make out the words behind the thick layer of hatred he had for him—this place.

He almost wanted to cry at the sound of a small crowd rushing in. From the little that he could see whilst struggling, they all looked like headless chickens. Some—most, found their way over and began to help hold him down. He hated it.

Must get away must get away mustgetaway

“Cas!” One man yelled in a heavy English accent. “What do you need?”

“Stop Dean, please.” But the man underneath him, never wavered his defence. “Goddamnit. Alright Ketch give him the sedative.”

There was uncertainty in the other man’s voice. “But Sir…”

Cas cut in, “I fucking know, but we are out of options here.” He paused as Ketch began to administer the sedative. “And you.” He pointed to a red-haired woman currently holding Dean's forearm down. “Tell Gabe to hurry the fuck up, I don’t think he'll survive another dose.”

Was that worry in his voice? Did he generally care? Fuck him!

They all eased off as Dean became limp once more.

Originally Omega Care wanted them to stay at a facility but once it was seen that Dean was much worse than previously thought, they allowed Cas to treat him at his own house as long as it was properly accommodated to Dean’s needs.

The house itself was spacious, the walls were an off-cream colour except one which was a faded green. Most of the floor was empty bar a couple of medical cabinets, draws, chairs and the bed Dean was in currently. The rest was going to be filled up with new medical machines which were tailor made to Dean’s measurements.

There was a widow overlooking the estate with a nice garden and pool, that maybe one day Dean could have the luxury of going in and a meeting room off to the side.

There was a one big door on one wall which was the exit and a stream of smaller doors on another. The first and last were bathrooms while every other was a bedroom for Dean’s new team of professionals. Cas’s room was in the middle and the biggest since he owned the place. It would be a nice place to stabilize the omega boy. Nicer than some facility.

A taller member of the team which held a badge with the name ‘Benny’ on it, spoke up from the crowd. “Poor mate doesn’t realise how badly he’s hurt and that by struggling he’s just making it worse.”

The all seemed to mumble in agreement.

Cas moved away and then turned to address all of them. “Before you all came here, you got the briefing on the patient.” Their eyes wondered over to Dean unconscious, looking far to pale and vulnerable and then back to him.

“But now I shall give you the more accurate and updated status of the patient.” They all seemed to know what that meant, that he was worse than previously thought.

Regardless, Cas continued: “Dean Winchester, aged 32, male, submissive omega. His father John Winchester was arrested earlier today for neglecting and abusing Dean in his early childhood and then throughout his life. It is estimated that he gave Dean a heavy dose of suppressants from an early age, which completely wrecked his system. Then possibly a ton of other meds in order to hide the damage that he had caused. There's also suspected brainwash, where Dean doesn’t think of himself as an omega and is severely sacred and hating towards alphas. A lot of stuff remains unknown about his case and history, so there could be many complications.”

Their faces had all saddened.

“It was the hospital who reported him to Omega Care after an almost fatal heat. The overall damage that has occurred throughout his life makes him not able to: react to Alpha commands, drop, be submissive—and in most instances, it even causes him distress and fear… Either way, as a result of this, the internal and irreversible damage to his body along with the fact that he hasn’t received any neutralizing alpha pheromones to counteract his overactive omega ones, his hormone levels are declining rapidly. It suspected that with a dialogises like this, he won’t last for more than two weeks and it’s our job to change that.”

Cas took a breath, hardly believing what he was going to say next.

“Usually the omega hormone 'Omedicstrone,' sits between 72-100 in a normal omega, anything below 50 his considered dangerous, well Dean’s is at 15. Its by far the worse case ever recorded. If we can’t get Dean to fall into submission and soon, his body will start failing him. Omegas are designed to be submissive—some more than others and by not, it can cause extensive harm.”

“Poor sod.” One guy muttered.

“Now this won’t be easy—hell he doesn’t even respond to anything that usual omegas respond to, but we are here to try to help him. Every single one of you is an Alpha so that’s a start, we’re hoping that will begin to revert his mind back to his natural state and give us hopefully a small chance for his defences to weaken. Now what we are going to have to do to him, is not going to be pretty and there’s a high chance he’ll even hate us for it, so if anyone wants to leave then the door is behind you.”

Nobody left.

And so, it was sorted, these were the people who were going to try to save Dean Winchester.

#whump #supernatural #dean winchester x castiel #whump fic #dean winchester whump #Doctor Castiel #defiant whumpee #whumper turned caretaker #medical whump #patient care #patient Dean Winchester #ao3 fanfic

[jensensitive]

Dean grabs the bottle marked WORMWOOD out of the stash drawer, and, without looking, moves to toss it in with the rest -

A HAND CLAMPS HIS WRIST.

Dean looks up sharply -

It's Henriksen.

DEAN Victor.

AGENT HENRIKSEN Dean.

Dean faces Henriksen. Sad. Sober.

DEAN I know.

AGENT HENRIKSEN No you don't.

DEAN It's my fault you're dead.

Henriksen lets go of Dean's wrist. Crosses his arms in front of his chest. Stares a hole into Dean. Like "go on."

DEAN I left you behind. The second I heard about the explosion I thought... I shoulda known. I shoulda protected you.

Dean keeps his eyes locked on Henriksen. Dean means what he's saying. And he's reaching behind himself for the gun.

AGENT HENRIKSEN Uh-uh. Not so fast.

Henriksen raises his hand and SUPERNATURALLY SWIPES the gun across the room.

AGENT HENRIKSEN Got your undivided attention now, Dean?

In STUTTER-QUICK MOTION, Henriksen is suddenly MERE INCHES from Dean's face.

AGENT HENRIKSEN You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a blast of beautiful white light? If only. (then) Forty-five minutes.

ON DEAN. This is news to him.

DEAN What?

AGENT HENRIKSEN One at a time. Over forty-five minutes. She said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first Nancy, remember her? The virgin? Lilith flayed Nancy's skin off, piece by piece. Right in front of us. Made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming.

ON DEAN. Stunned.

DEAN No...

AGENT HENRIKSEN One by one. While we watched. (then) I was the last.

CLOSE ON DEAN. Devastated. On fire with regret.

DEAN Victor. I'm -

Before Dean can get out the word "sorry," Henriksen PLUNGES his hand straight INTO Dean's CHEST. Dean GASPS -

Henriksen SQUEEZES in Dean's chest Dean chokes -

AGENT HENRIKSEN Now you tell me how's it fair? I die for you - you get saved from Hell? Why do you deserve another chance, Dean?

ON DEAN - he CAN'T BREATHE, he's in AGONY - and also: everything Henriksen's saying is true, and it kills Dean.

When, suddenly - BAM! Henriksen DISSOLVES in a SPRAY of ROCK SALT -

REVEALING SAM in the doorway.

Dean COLLAPSES against the kitchen counter, gasping for breath. His devastation as emotional as it is physical. Sam scrambles to help Dean up.

SAM You okay?

Dean rights himself. Grabs his gun. Meets Sam's eyes.

DEAN No.

4x02 Are You There God, It’s Me Dean Winchester script

#head in my hands sighing deeply #dean x victor #dean's heart #scripts #spn 4x02

[mayalaen]

I was tagged by the very awesome @samanddeaninpanties who teased us with five snippets of her fic and asked me to post snippets of my WIPs with the words remember, boy, freak, twitch, and true.

He remembered the first time he watched Ruslan kill. The heaviness in his gut as he saw someone so much more comfortable in their own skin than he was, using their years of knowledge with a level of professionalism he feared he’d never achieve. He remembered asking Ruslan to use the icepick on him. Remembered that all-consuming pain ripping through his body and his mind as a master of the human nervous system satisfied his curiosity. He remembered the first time he fucked up a kill as Ruslan watched and how barbaric the fallout was. He remembered the first time he made Ruslan smile with pride after a job well done and how fucking good that felt. He remembered the night he earned his wings through fire and pain, and the way that burning agony paled in comparison to the devastation when Ruslan left him behind.

^ A very long, unedited paragraph from a future CON ‘verse part -- the one we were chatting about where Cas has to leave because everybody is after him.

Cas knew Dean could feel his grace. Dean didn't know what he was, but he could sense the power and knew he wasn’t human. It was something Cas had been able to dampen, buffering John and Sam from it, but he couldn't do the same with Dean. Not after touching the boy's soul and accidentally leaving a little bit of himself behind. 

^ Rewritten in the Stars 2, Cas/John, young Dean and Sam with powers, Cas messing with the timeline and fate

He leaned into the touch, his eyes burning with the loss of what he never even had. Other kids got to have a mom who kissed their skinned knees and lovingly wiped their tears when they cried, but his mom screamed at him for being a weird freak who talked to shadows. Dean was glad she was fucking dead and that he’d been to young to understand why she hated him so much.

^ Caging the Mongoose: Supernatural/The Blacklist mafia AU fusion with Raymond/Dembe/Dean

"I don't know what it is," Sam grunted, wincing as he twisted his lower body, trying to reach the wall with his foot. He gave up quickly, hissing in pain. His cheek twitched as he tried to get as comfortable as possible. 

^ Unnamed canon MotW fic with a tentacle creature who strings Sam, Dean, and Cas up in her basement and has her way with them -- eggpreg

Cas smiled passively. It seemed like such a Dean thing to do. Benny was off having the time of his life and doing the thing he'd always wanted to do while Dean was stuck with Benny’s asshole roommate, who had no idea what to do with a Courtesan. And Cas couldn't do a damn thing about it. Well, that wasn't exactly true.

^ Unnamed AU where Benny leaves his Courtesan Dean under the care of his roommate Brady while he’s away, and Cas has to helplessly watch Brady abuse him

Tagging from my activity list: @hullosweetpea @ltleflrt @grey2510  and anyone who is interested to find the words Stretch, Forget, Size, Rough, and Save in WIPs and post the snippets.

#wip #myfic #tagging games #supernatural #samanddeaninpanties

[marchtothefuckingsea]

My Love - Castiel Novak

Hi, finally have a fic ready for you guys! Sorry about that dry couple of weeks, I've had a lot going on.

ALSO I know I said I was going to post this yesterday, I forgot lmao

Enjoy!

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Blood, violence, injury.

x gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n, enemies to lovers undertones, hurt/comfort

Summary: Castiel and the reader fight and Cas tells them that they are unfit to be a hunter. Fuming, the reader goes off on a solo hunt to blow off some steam but gets seriously hurt, leaving them no choice but to call their angel.

“What the fuck did you just say??” I hissed at the angel in front of me, my voice dangerously low.

His face remained expressionless, his tone emotionless. “I said I do not think you are fit to be a hunter.” He continued calmly. “You are impulsive and reckless, you will cause the Winchesters to get hurt. They trust you too much."

"Fuck you." I growled, slamming the book I had been studying shut and stalking out of the library. 

I fumed as I walked angrily down the hallway to where the brothers kept all of their equipment. 

I had been studying up on vampires, as we had found a nest of them nearby. We were going to head out as soon as they came back from their salt and burn on the other side of the state.

As soon as I entered the room, I started gathering the necessary things for killing vamps. I didn't feel I had to prove my worth to him, no, I needed to let off some steam by myself and I couldn't wait another day to for Sam and Dean to get back.

 According to reports, it was just a handful of them anyways- strong but inexperienced newly-turned vamps. Nothing I couldn't handle on my own. Most of them hadn't even been bothered to try and hide the evidence of their kills, leaving them in plain sight to any passerby of the alleyway in which they had killed and fed. 

I tossed the equipment in the backseat of my car, slamming the door shut with a little more force than necessary. 

I arched and spun in a dance of anger and violence, slicing off vamps' heads left and right as they took hesitant swipes and dives at me, unsure how a human was kicking their asses. 

There had been a few more than I anticipated, but then, they were also a lot more inexperienced than I had thought too. They had been living an extremely sheltered life with a big, bustling city nearby as a food source- where it was easy to pick people off left and right and not sound too many alarms.

As I spun around to face the one I had sensed standing behind me, they flipped me over on my back, slamming me down hard into the ground. It winded me terribly and I thought I heard a sickening crack.

My eyes widened in surprise and pain as the vampire hovered over me, snarling. The others, the newborns, circled around, more of them appearing from the shadows.

Fuck. It had been a trap.

Another older vampire stepped out, the newborns parted to make way for him as I struggled to sit up.

I was met with a sharp kick to my chest, and this time I definitely heard something snap. I cried out, falling back down to the ground gasping and clutching at my chest.

I heard his footsteps draw near. I scrambled upright, barely ignoring the pain that blossomed in my chest, and shoved myself back until my back hit the wall. I uttered a low groan and squeezed my eyes shut.

I heard the vamp hiss right before I felt a light breeze in my face. I pried my eyes open to see her face inches from mine, her eyes blood red.

I held my ground, not shrinking back from her in fear. I met her gaze defiantly before spitting in her face. She grinned; a sick expression that twisted her features menacingly and showed off her fangs. 

My stare was unwavering, as was hers, until the other vampire appeared behind her, snarling. Her grin grew even wider.

All of a sudden I felt a searing pain across my arm. I all but screamed out in agony. My arm was on fire. I felt hot blood run down onto my hand and drip off of my fingers. 

I shakily reached for my concealed dagger with my other hand before she slashed my other arm, effectively rendering me helpless from pain alone. It felt like her nails were laced with some sort of venom, it burned so bad.

I heard the excited shrieks and snarls of the newborns, barely containing themselves at the smell of my blood. My vision wavered as I foggily evaluated my situation.

The chances I made it out of this alive were very..slim. Sam and Dean were on the other side of the state, there was no way they could get to me in time, and if I had to die I didn't want them to know where I was or what had happened to me. They would feel guilty. I didn't want that.

Being a hunter, I had accepted the fact that I would die much earlier than other people. I just didn't think it would be like this. I had expected to go down fighting, at the very least, and not on some solo mission fueled by frustrations.

Another option suddenly appeared in my mind. Castiel. But was that really an option? Would he even listen to my prayer?

As my vision grew hazy and I felt my body fall limply to the side, I prayed to him. My desire to live, or at least not die in such a pathetic way, outweighed my distrust and 'hatred' towards the angel. 

Truth be told, I had wanted to get to know him, after the Winchesters had first introduced us. We had even gotten along for the first few weeks. Then something in him just changed. 

After coming back from a hunt with Sam and Dean, they had sustained some minor injuries. I, on the other hand, had gotten pretty badly beat up. All the demons had just seemed to focus on me. 

Castiel had coldly healed up my injuries before turning away and not saying another word. "Cas?" I asked hesitantly. I had never seen the angel this pissed before, his jaw set as if he were stone.

He shook his head tensely before turning away from me. I heard a fluttering of wings and he was gone.

He had avoided me as much as he could after that. If we had to speak to each other, it was brisk and cold. A far contrast from how it was before. 

A sharp hit to my ribs brought me back to my painful reality, my eyes flying open as I scrambled to press myself closer to the wall. 

Even through the black dots that crowded my vision, I could see the newborns moving in closer and closer, barely containing their excitement. 

The dots grew more prominent and my eyes fluttered shut. My body relaxed into the ground, accepting my fate as I desperately prayed to Cas one more time. My senses became muted.

I heard a faint screech from the female vamp followed by frantic steps and a whoosh.

She fell to the floor dead and her partner joined her soon after. The newborns scrambled away in a panic, darting off.

I flinched back into the wall as a figure approached me. My arms weakly found their way to my ribs as I clutched my middle as if that alone would protect my battered ribcage.I fought to keep my eyes open.

A large, warm hand rested lightly on my side. My eyes shot open as I gasped and struggled to push myself up with the last of my energy. My palms kept slipping in the pool of my own blood surrounding me on the floor. I whimpered when I fell back, jarring my ribs. My vision was too blurry to see who, or what, was in front of me. 

I felt the hand on my side again but this time I didn't fight them, I had no fight left in me. I felt them slip their arms underneath my limp form and I gasped in pain, weakly trying to push them away. 

"It's okay. I've got you." I heard a familiar deep voice reassure me. They held me close to their chest. I felt a tingling sensation dance across my skin, and soon they were striding forward. I didn't remember much more than that before I blacked out completely.

I woke up, groaning as I propped myself up onto my forearms. As my vision came into focus, I found a very worried looking angel by my bedside.

"Cas?" I croaked out. I coughed.

He glanced up at me and I heard him utter something in Enochian under his breath before he addressed me. "You're awake." He stated plainly.

So he was going to be like that. "No shit sherlock." I growled out, propping myself up against the headboard. Although, I now realized, he had healed me, I was still incredibly weak. The small amount of movement drained me.

"No, it's just- I-" He started. 

"No, I get it." I muttered. "I'm reckless. Sorry for calling on you, you shouldn't have to clean up after my mistakes. I'll just fucking die next time, yeah?" Fatigue forgotten, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pushing myself to my feet.

I immediately swayed as I did so, a bout of dizziness hitting me like a brick wall. I stumbled.

Castiel immediately stood up and rushed to support me before I fell. I tore myself away from him, leaning unsteadily against the wall. 

"I'm fine." I snapped. 

I sat back down on the bed, utterly exhausted from the small bit of exertion. I blinked hard to clear the dots in my sight, groaning as my head pounded. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned sideways into the wall and groaned again, squeezing my eyes shut. Everything hurt and I felt like shit.

"Hey." His voice was suddenly close, I forced my tired eyes open and almost jumped back when I realized his face was inches from mine. 

He must have seen the surprise written across my face. He fell back into the chair by my bedside mumbling a "Sorry."

I knew the apology was for more than just startling me. 

I tiredly leaned back against the wall sighing. The room fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as my eyes drifted shut once again.

"I'm sorry." He said again out of nowhere, breaking the quiet. I opened my eyes. He had a frown on his face as he stared down at the floor.

"I didn't mean it. You're a capable hunter, even more than that. That's what.." He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Scares me. It scares me." He broke off with a sigh before glancing up to meet my eyes.

I saw nothing but concern in his icy gaze, along with something else I couldn't quite place. No, it wasn't that I couldn't place it, it was just so foreign to see on his face, the heaviness of the emotion.

Affection. 

"I think I care about you." He frowned again, creasing his eyebrows and tearing his stare from me to direct it at where the wall met the floor. "No, I think I'm in love with you." He said softly.

It surprised me, to say the least. Not because I didn't return the feelings, no, because I had thought it was the other way around.

This time, I was the one who hesitated in shock. I saw the look on his face and before he could backpedal I asked, "Why this..now? After whatever I did to make you act like a dick to me these past few weeks." 

"It wasn't your fault." He started hesitantly. "After that hunt, you remember?" 

I nodded. "I realized how.. human you are. How fragile." 

"I thought, by some poor judgment, if I could get you to believe you were a bad hunter, if I told you that you would eventually cause Sam and Dean to get hurt, that I could get you to quit." I opened my mouth to say what a low blow that was, but before I could get any words out he shushed me. 

"I now realize that was a terrible idea." He raised his eyes to meet mine. They were full of genuine regret.

A heavy silence filled the room.

"I think I love you too." I said quietly, eventually. 

His gaze flickered up to mine.

"I forgive you, you know." I added softly. 

He leaned forward, taking me into his arms and giving me a gentle squeeze. It took me a second to process what was actually happening, but soon enough I wrapped my arms around him, clutching onto his trench coat for dear life as his large hand traced comforting circles on my back. 

I sighed, relaxing into him as he pressed a timid kiss to my hair. I smiled up at him, leaning up to peck his lips.

A smile found its way onto his face as he leaned down to capture me back into another kiss, with so much affection it was almost overwhelming.

As we broke away, I leaned back into his chest as he rocked us back and forth. I shut my tired eyes.l as his warmth surrounded me.

I heard him mumble the same Enochian phrase from earlier into my hair. I vaguely remember hearing him say that before, too. I had figured it was something of his version of a pet name, though I had never heard him call Sam or Dean that, or really anything in his language.

"What does that mean?" I asked sleepily.

He paused uncertainly for a second before responding. "It does not directly translate, but it means something similar to 'my love.'" 

#supernatural #spn #supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural hurt/comfort #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel angst #castiel hurt/comfort #castiel fluff #cas #castiel novak x reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #cas x reader #castiel novak #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchesters #winchesters x reader #supernatural fanfiction #castiel imagine #castiel drabble #castiel oneshot #supernatural imagine #supernatural drabble #supernatural oneshot

[calaofnoldor]

You, Me, and Bones

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 4,379

Summary: A series of moments that define the evolution of your relationship with Sam. (Domestic AU)

Warnings: 18+ smutty cock warming, language, puppy dog eyes, so much fluff, pining, bit of protective/jealous sam (sorry, i was writing this at the same time as sttc), periods (the menstrual kind), failed attempts at romance, wow i am so out of my element here pls forgive me

A/N: written for @stusbunker's jam basket fic exchange! this is for the lovely @fangirlxwritesx67 (i was honored to write for you and i really hope you don't hate it 🤞)

also written for @negans-lucille-tblr's 7ks of the week challenge, for which i chose the prompts: sam winchester + best friends to lovers + grand declaration of love + cock warming. (congrats darling! i don't typically write smutty things but i tried for you!)

Square Filled: Domestic AU for @spnmixedbingo; Playing With Their Hair for @spnfluffbingo; Alternative Universe for @girl-next-door-writes's make me feel bingo

MASTERLIST

Sam Winchester was your best friend. It’d been that way since the fifth grade, when you accidentally landed the two of you in detention and thereby discovered your shared interest for mythical folklore. After that, you became inseparable, though you soon learned that he and his brother Dean were a package deal, so over time, you grew quite close with the older Winchester as well. You loved him like the big brother you never wanted while you loved Sam like your dearest friend in the world, until one day you didn’t.

He’d always been your favorite person, the one you could turn to for anything, so it caught you off guard when a fateful time of the month made you see him in a new light.

The cramps were killing you; you were sure of it. Never had they been this painful. Your uterus had reduced you to a useless lump, rolling around on your bed as you moaned aloud, and not in a cute way. Somehow, sometime, through the haze of agony, you’d sent Sam a delirious text, an SOS signal for painkillers and every chocolate bar in the state of Kansas.

When the doorbell rang, you stumbled to greet him, doubled over and clutching at your stomach. Sam’s beaming smile disappeared as the door swung open to reveal your unsightly state.

“Jesus, Y/L/N, are you alright?”

You managed to stand up a little straighter and send him a grimace of a smile, “Just peachy, Winchester.”

“Well here,” he rushed past you and started laying out the supplies he’d hauled over in two oversized grocery bags, “I got you some ibuprofen and a heating pad, because I read that that’s supposed to help. Which do you wanna try first?”

“Both,” you implored with grabby hands, “Hand me the goods.”

“OK,” Sam nodded and got to work getting you medicated and warmed up, “I also brought you some donuts and a couple cupcakes from that little bakery you like, and there’s chips in there too, all of your favorite flavors, and popcorn, in case you want a lighter, healthier option, and of course, chocolate galore. Oh, I also picked up a tub of that ice cream you’re obsessed with, though I read you shouldn’t be consuming too many cold foods or beverages right now.”

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He chuckled and you wondered if those dimples had always looked so goddamned adorable. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well, it’s true. You’re my hero, Sam Winchester.” The grin you shot him contorted when a fresh surge of cramps bowled you over, but you waved him off as he stepped toward you in concern, “I’m fine. You should probably go back now. I know you’ve got exams to study for.”

Sam’s brows pulled together, “I’m not comfortable leaving you alone like this. Besides, who are you gonna eat all this food with?”

You knew the latter statement was just a flimsy veil of an excuse because Sam had never shared your (and Dean’s) affinity toward junk food, but you’d also never developed any immunity against those patented puppy dog eyes. It was far from the first time he’d subjected you to them, however, so you were rather flabbergasted when the way his enchanting hazel eyes flooded with worry and compassion unraveled a multitude of strange and foreign reveries in your brain. It must have been the hormones.

“What?” your best friend asked when he caught you ogling him with a dreamy look.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Just- you’re gonna make a really great boyfriend one day.”

Sam forced a laugh, but it sounded bitter and you didn’t know why.

From then on, your attraction toward him evolved at a mind-boggling rate. You’d always felt a desire to be around Sam all the time, but now you wanted to be around him all the time and suck his dick. But he never once expressed any interest in you beyond a platonic or brotherly love, and you were terrified of sinking your friendship that had already sailed so far out from shore.

There were times that made you question the way he saw you though. The first occurred when you were getting ready for the gym on a scorching summer day.

You padded out of your room in bare feet, a hair tie between your teeth whilst you gathered your unruly locks to secure them away from your face. As you bent down to put your socks and trainers on, Sam made a choking sound from his seat at the kitchen island.

“You alright, Sammy?” Despite outgrowing most things, he’d never quite outgrown that childhood nickname, although you and Dean were the only ones permitted to call him that now.

“Wait, you’re just gonna go out like that?” he inquired with a rough, incredulous edge in his tone, ignoring your concern.

Looking down at your ensemble of booty shorts and a sports bra, you sassed, “Well, yeah… I’m going to the gym.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little too… Won’t you be cold?”

“Sam, do you know how many degrees it is outside right now?” Though your voice held nothing but skepticism, little embers of hope sparked inside you, ignited by the thought that he sounded not unlike a jealous boyfriend.

But they were all stomped out by his next words, “I know but… your gym’s got air conditioning, right? Here, take my hoodie in case you need it. You can just tie it around your waist for now.” He handed you the giant article of clothing with averted eyes.

Oh, you thought, so it hadn’t been the idea of other men seeing you in minimal clothing that bothered him, but rather eyeing you in an outfit so revealing made him uncomfortable. Perhaps you were right; he could only ever see you as a little sister.

This theory prevailed for months until it was disproved by an incessant suitor of yours.

Buzzing wildly, your phone lit up to display yet another series of inappropriate ‘textual advances’, the third set you’d received this week.

At your quiet groan, Sam immediately looked up from his spot across the table. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just this guy from work keeps hitting on me, and I don’t think he understands what ‘no’ means,” you sighed.

“What?!” Sam sounded startled and furious at the same time.

Rushing to placate him, you explained, “It’s not a big deal; it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. It’s just really annoying is all.”

“WHAT?! When? Who? Why didn’t you tell me? Let me see what he looks like. Give me his name and social security number.”

“Sam, calm down,” you laughed, “You don’t have go into overprotective big bro mode, OK?”

He puffed out an exasperated breath. “What? That’s not a thing. But If he won’t leave you alone and take ‘no’ for an answer, then this asshole needs to be taught some manners- I think I should have a chat with him.”

“OK, that is literally the definition of overprotective big bro mode.” Teasing him blanketed your own despair, though a wretched ache still constricted your chest at the notion of being ‘family-zoned’.

“It’s not- I’m not- I just don’t enjoy knowing that my best friend is being harassed and doing nothing about it,” Sam stuttered to clarify, gesticulating with his big hands.

Right, you thought, you’re just his best friend, Y/N. He doesn’t even love you enough to think of you as family.

And so, you learned to grin and bear it, stowing your feelings away as they inevitably grew, fed and fostered by Sam’s glowing brilliance and all the things he did that made him such a wonderful person and friend. You struggled to contain those feelings within you, smothering their every attempt to surface with a stupid excuse and a strained smile, until the day Sam did something that brought you to tears.

“You got me a puppy?!” you questioned dumbly as you stared at the unbearably adorable golden retriever pup, peeking out at you from within the aerated gift box whose lid you’d just removed. Unable to resist, you hoisted the little fella into your arms and cradled him against your chest, closing your eyes at the softness of his fur against your cheek and giggling when he began to lick your face.

When you reopened your eyes, it was to find Sam gazing at you with an awed smile. “Why?”

“Well, your birthday’s next month… but also, I noticed you’ve been kinda down a lot lately and since you won’t talk to me about it, I thought maybe this fluffball could help cheer you up,” Sam told you as he reached out to scratch the puppy behind its ears. “Wait, are you crying?”

“What- No!” you denied instantly, turning your face to the side, “My allergies must be acting up or something.” The truth was you were touched by Sam’s gesture, and after what felt like centuries of repressing your unrequited love for the man, you’d reached a breaking point, made worse by the fact that it’d been your fall for him that landed you down in the dumps in the first place, and this oblivious attempt to lift you out only made you love him more.

“Y/N, you don’t have any allergies.”

“Shut up, you don’t know me!”

Sam laughed, prying the pup from your hands when it began to squirm toward him, “I know you better than anyone else in the world, well maybe apart from Dean, but the point is, I know something’s been bugging you. I just wish you’d tell me what it is, but every time I try to bring it up, you dodge the question and act cold and distant for days after. I’m starting to feel like I did something wrong. If that’s the case, please just tell me so I can try to fix whatever it was that upset you.”

“OK no, you cannot do the puppy dog eyes while holding an actual puppy!” you objected, “That’s just not fair! Also, I thought the dog was for me. Why do I suddenly feel outnumbered?”

Sam said nothing; he simply readjusted the pupper until its little head was tucked beneath his chin and together they hit you with what must’ve been the world’s most indomitable quartet of puppy dog eyes.

Defenseless, you bit your lip and groaned, “OK fine, you really wanna know?”

“If I haven’t made that clear by now, I might have to reconsider my enrollment in law school. Y/N, you know you can tell me anything right? I thought this,” a long index finger gestured between the two of you, “was about honesty and always having each other's backs.”

Although you never wanted to jeopardize your friendship, you knew Sam was right. He deserved better than lies and deceit. He deserved the truth. “Sam, that's the thing… I don't wanna do ‘this’ anymore,” you paused to inhale a deep, shuddering breath, “because I love you.”

Hurt flashed across Sam’s features before they settled into an expression closer to confusion, “OK, I seriously need to change career paths because I'm not following your logic. You don't want to be friends anymore because you love me?”

“Yes! But I don't love you the way you're thinking or the way you love me, you stupid Winchester. I'm in love with you!” Sam’s mouth fell open though no words escaped so you rambled on, “I probably have been since we were ten; I just never noticed it until you brought me cupcakes and chocolate when I was on my period that one time because I’m an idiot. But then I fell into the black hole of loving Sam Winchester and nothing has ever been the same. I started noticing things beyond the reasons I love you as a friend. Things like… the pinkness of your lips, and the length of your neck, or your shoulder-to-waist ratio, or the size of your hands, and just the size of you in general- I mean, what happened to the skinny kid who only came up to my ear?” A somewhat lopsided grin broke out across his face, but you were nowhere near done.

“I know all the ways you touch your face and push your hands through your hair, memorized every wayward strand that’s hugged your cheekbones, how your chest heaves when you get mad or after a workout, the types of smiles and frowns that make your dimples pop the most, and do not get me started on the number of colors in your eyes or the way they’re constantly changing like the goddamn sky- I mean, what the fuck?! Is there any part of you that isn’t mind-blowingly perfect?!”

Sam’s jaw was once again loose, and the golden ball of fluff roaming between your legs on the loveseat had gone unusually quiet, as if he knew something big was going down, so you figured you’d go for a home run, “And that’s why it’s gotten hard to be around you because every time you smile, I wanna melt into a puddle and fit my thumb in your dimple. And every time you’re upset, I wanna run to you and hold you in my arms forever, run my fingers through your hair and tell you that it’s gonna be OK, remind you that you’ve always got me, that I’ll be here for you through anything, even if you don’t want me the I way I want you. But worst of all… basically anytime you do anything, even the most mundane of things ‒ sometimes as simple as breathing ‒ I get this unquenchable urge to kiss you… anywhere you’d let me. So yeah, I don’t wanna be just your best friend anymore because I love you more than anyone else in the world… well, maybe apart from this little guy,” you snuggled the pup who had found its way onto your lap, hoping that its utter cuteness would distract you from the upcoming heartache.

But the rejection never came. Instead, Sam scooted closer to you and took your head gently in his expansive hands, lifting your face toward his, “Are you done?” He was incredibly close and your lungs seemed to lack oxygen so you nodded wordlessly. “Good. Because I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

You were in shock as his lips approached yours, but managed to tilt your head just in time to avoid a collision between your noses. The kisses were short, soft, and slow at first, testing the waters as your mouths grew acquainted, but it didn’t take long for your body to respond with the urgent need it had been subduing for so long, applying a desperate force behind your voracious lips as your equally ravenous hands reached out for whatever part of him you could get a hold of. But as Sam’s tongue finally entered your mouth, a high-pitched whimper pierced the air and you pulled away, reluctant but happy.

Thus, Bones went from having one human to two. And as the pooch grew, so did your relationship. It took some time to adjust to your new roles, privileges, and pet names, but now when the monthly cramps assailed you, Sam would be there when he could, a big warm hand on your lower stomach in lieu of a heating pad. And when he couldn’t, Bones happily took his place. The gym became a couples retreat, where you’d even occasionally attempt those partner workout routines that nauseated everyone in your vicinity, while home workouts involved Sam doing push ups with you and Bones on his back for added resistance. And best of all, you got to appreciate not only the way Sam looked in a suit when he was off to work, but also the way he looked in his birthday suit in your bed.

Next to that, cuddling became your favorite development. Watching TV often resulted in your moose of a boyfriend laid across the custom-length couch with his head in your lap, while Bones stretched himself out on Sam’s chest. You could spend hours playing with your man’s hair, combing your fingertips through his satiny tresses and scraping your nails gently against his scalp. Sam would moan in relief after a long day at the office, kissing your thigh in thanks while he ran his own hand lazily through Bones’ fur. If ever you stopped the petting train, they would both whine whilst looking up at you with those masterful pleading eyes.

You also discovered that Bones had no problem with intimacy as long as he was involved, which meant make out sessions frequently led to your fur baby squeezing himself between the two of you, splayed out on his back and looking for belly rubs, a tongue stuck out to the side in glee when his owners acquiesced without fail. In fact, you concocted a game, when Sam was feeling low, in which you peppered his face with loud kisses to see how long it would take for Bones to join the fun, never ceasing until Sam was drowning in love and doggy slobber. Still, nothing compared to waking up on his chest after a stormy night, opening your eyes to find your sleepy fido snug and content beneath a tanned, vascular forearm, while deft, elongated fingers frolicked through your hair.

And it turned out Sam was just as good at romance as he was everything else, routinely surprising you with little love notes sprinkled about the house, (eloquent words that reminded you of your worth or beauty or simply the fact that he loved you), your favorite breakfast foods in bed, and once even a rare, original edition signed copy of your favorite book.

So on a haphazard day off, in an effort repay him, you picked out a racy new lingerie set and then procured every clichéd requisite: a candlelit atmosphere, fresh strawberries and whipped cream, rose petals on the bed, and even chocolate fondue. But as Sam’s car pulled onto the driveway, Bones got his muzzle into the whipped cream, which somehow left you hobbling frantically toward the door on one stilettoed heel when the key began to turn within the lock.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t come in yet!” You stumbled to slip on the other shoe before striking your best seductive pose in the doorway, and after hurriedly fixed your hair, resolutely flung the door open to come face to face with the one and only Dean Winchester, who went wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the sight of your risqué get-up.

“Shit!” you cried out in alarm, racing to cover yourself, “Fuck me!”

“Oh, I’m sure Sammy would be happy to,” came Dean’s suave and slightly smug response.

“Dean!” Sam’s deep voice boomed in protest when he finally recovered from shock beside his leering brother, jerking a huge hand up to cover Dean’s eyes when you turned around to grab yourself a throw blanket.

You could barely make eye contact with either of them when you returned.

“Well, I think our football and beer plans can wait for another night, brother. Oh and uh... congratulations!” Clapping Sam on the shoulder, Dean left with a signature wink-and-smirk.

Never again did you attempt to surprise Sam with anything remotely sexual, though it did happen unintentionally when you were working overtime in your living room one memorable weekend.

Sam wore a knowing grin as you walked dejectedly toward him, no doubt finding amusement in your childish pout.

“I told you to take a break,” he said as he set his book down on the arm of the barrel chair he was sat in, welcoming you to crawl into his lap with open arms and a slight smirk.

You did so without pause, pushing your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and nuzzling your nose into his throat. “Yeah, but I wanted to figure it out,” you mumbled against his pulse.

“I know, and you will, baby. But you can’t just keep going at it for hours without rest. You gotta give your body what it needs.”

“Well, right now it needs you.” You ventured out of your burrow to look imploringly into his kaleidoscope eyes, but before you could make your next move, a seventy-pound attention seeker bounded over and up into Sam’s lap as well. “Bones, you cockblock!”

Your love-induced giggle fest was interrupted by Sam’s ringtone. “Oh shit, I’ve gotta take care of this.”

“What?” you frowned, unable to conceal your disappointment.

“Just some urgent paperwork the firm sent me.”

“So no sex?”

Sam’s dimples reappeared as he pecked your pouted lips, “Maybe later, baby girl.”

Forced to disband, you watched as he grabbed his laptop and pulled out a chair at your dining table, a devilish idea popping into your head.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Sam asked when you began to climb into his lap again.

“I wanna try something. You can still work, I promise.” Undoing his pants, you bit your lip as soon as you saw the SAXX logo.

Though he moaned at the implication, Sam complained, “Baby, Bones is right there.”

“We’ll cover his eyes; he won’t even know what’s happening.”

“We are not traumatizing our dog just because you can’t keep it in your pants!”

You whined, overcome by a sudden onslaught of neediness and insatiable horniness. This happened quite often around Sam. “Fine, I’ll take him to the yard.” Up before he had a chance to dissuade you, you hollered for the dog, “Come on, buddy! Let’s go play outside, yeah?”

Crawling beneath the table when you returned, Sam started as you began to tug at his pants from below. “Shhh, you don’t have to do anything; just pretend I’m not here.” You finally freed his gorgeous dick, pleased to find it already semi-hard, and proceeded to lick a thick stripe up its underside before swirling your tongue and puckering your lips around the tip.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do that,” Sam strained.

After a few more kitten licks, you took hold of his shaft and used it to pull yourself up, relishing the hiss Sam let loose as you moved to straddle him, lifting your skirt and grinding your bare sex against his.

“Babe,” he exhaled in warning, clenching his teeth to restrain himself.

“Just ignore me, baby boy,” you countered whilst circling his thick diameter with your hand. Just a few practiced and vigorous strokes had him hard as a rock and ready to ride, but you were only going to keep him warm until you could.

As your hands moved to his shoulders, Sam’s vast ones, that had been uselessly perched atop his keyboard finally relented, grasping your hips with a light squeeze. They subconsciously helped raise your body enough for you to rub your slick across his length before lining up to gradually lower yourself, inch by painstaking inch. Erring on the side of caution, you retreated a few times, ever so slightly, on your way down, because although you were soaking for him, Sam was massive and usually opened you up with his fingers first.

“Nnngh,” he groaned, tossing his head back with closed eyes, “Fucking marry me already!”

“What?!” With a gasp, you slid right down the rest of the length, swallowing him whole as your butt cheeks slapped against his muscled thighs and a duet of unfiltered, pornographic moans echoed through the room.

To recover from the incredible feeling of fullness, you rested your head upon his immense shoulder while fluttering around him. “Did you just ask me that because I’m literally keeping your cock warm?” you wondered through a breathless giggle.

“Fuck. No. I didn’t mean to- That wasn’t supposed to-“ You pulled back to smile gently at him, perpetually amazed by the precious, puppy-like behavior of this six-foot-four hunk of a man, particularly during a time like this.

Sam sighed and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for some time now.” His cock twitched within you and you couldn’t withhold the quiet sound of appreciation that consequently escaped you.

“Fuck,” he repeated, “This is not how it was supposed to go.”

“You had a plan?” As you whispered the words, you felt your pelvic muscles unwittingly pulse around him at the thought.

Giant hands caressed your outer thighs as Sam grunted, “No, not really. But I’ve known that I wanted to marry you for a long time now, and this is not how I pictured the proposal to go.”

“It’ll make a hell of a story though.”

Sam snorted, “No one will ever hear of this. I demand a redo.”

You rested your triceps on his shoulders and let your fingers roam into his hair, fondling the silken strands and raking across his scalp, unknowingly sending shivers down Sam’s spine as he spoke.

“It’s not my fault I can’t control myself around you. It’s been decades and you’re still the only person who’s ever had this effect on me, who I’ve ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with… Would it be too cheesy to call you my missing puzzle piece right now?”

You groaned in both laughter and arousal at the reminder of his member still fully sheathed within you, letting your forehead fall against his once more.

“I’m so sorry it just came out like that,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m not,” you contended while pushing his bangs out of his face in return, “Ask me again.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You swore he swelled even more inside you and you responded with a clench, “I’d never marry another.”

“That’s not exactly an answer,” Sam pointed out, bucking up slightly in protest.

“Ungh! Hell yes, Winchester!” With your head thrown back in ecstasy, you bounced a bit on his lap, in search of friction.

Slamming his laptop shut, Sam growled, “Fuck paperwork, how am I supposed to concentrate when I’ve got my future wife wrapped around me?”

Your answer involved swaying above him to change the angle while yanking lightly at his hair and clenching him tighter.

“Oh, you’ve got it coming, baby girl! Bones can wait another hour, right?”

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis @carryonmywaywardbucky @swiftlymoniquesblog @moosewinchester @sams-sass @thinkinghardhardlythinking @jotink78 @winifrede @writingforthelonelysoul @turtletaylor98 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @peridottea91 @tvdspngirl314 @idreamofplaid @samsgirl2020 @katwed @asgoodasdancingqueen

TEAM MOOSE: @mind-of-a-girl

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[pinknatural]

From across the crowded room of the Roadhouse, Dean spots messy black hair, a flash of tan. His heart pounds, and he abruptly turns away from Jo, pushing into the crowd. He passes familiar faces--Rufus, Pamela, his father--but ignores them in favor of stretching onto his tip-toes, looking for a glimpse--there!

Heart in his throat, tentatively hopeful, Dean calls out “Cas?” as the crowd spits him before his best friend. He’d know those shoulders, that hair, those eyes, anywhere. Cas’s face scrunches, apologetic. 

“Dean,” he says, and his voice is wrong, ocatives too high, and Dean’s heart skips a beat. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Dean says. 

“I am not your friend,” the man says, in a twisted reversal of what Castiel had said to Claire Novak, years and years ago, and Jimmy Novak says, “I am not Castiel.”

Dean’s heart shatters, and he knows his paradise is lost. 

“This is garbage,” Becky says. She looks up from the manuscript in her hands. “Why would you do that to them?”

Chuck shrugs. He leans back farther on her couch, puts his feet up on her coffee table. He crosses his ankles and she tries to ignore the muddy converse sullying her furniture. She’d literally cleaned that yesterday, does he have no manners?

“They’re my characters,” he says. “I can do what I want with them.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to put Jimmy in Dean’s heaven,” Becky says, frowning. “That just seems cruel.”

“I am a cruel God,” Chuck says, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I’m bored of them, and they were rude to me, so this is what you get. Hey, at least Sam got a long and happy life, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No,” Becky says. “Well, not like that.”

“Hey, I even let him marry your self-insert OC who you’ve been fanfic-ing about,” Chuck says. Becky looks back down at the papers in her hands. 

“Is that who that was?”

“Obviously,” Chuck says. 

It’s not obvious. Becky bites her lip and looks at The Road so Far, which is just a massive pile of papers on her desk. Chuck wrote it to “catch her up” on what’s happened in Supernatural since he stopped publishing the books. She doesn’t really like most of it, but--

“What about Eileen?”

“What about Eileen?”

“Shouldn’t Sam have married her, instead? They were kinda perfect for each other.” Becky has grown since she tried to love-potion him. A husband, two kids, and eight years later Becky likes to think she’s mature enough to admit when some girl would be good for Sam--a hundred thousand words of self-insert fic notwithstanding. 

“No, it’s better for Sam to get out of the life,” Chuck says. 

“But in Carry On it says that Dean Jr was a hunter,” Becky says. 

“Yeah, well, you can’t stay out of the life,” Chuck says. “Ooh, do you think Betty should burn on the ceiling? For old times sake?”

“No,” Becky says. She pauses. “Well...what about Jack? This stuff says he’s God.”

“Obviously not,” Chuck snorts. “Unreliable narrators. I dissolved his power into the trees or whatever. He’s not anywhere, now.”

“Right,” Becky says. “So you killed Cas and then his son? And locked Dean away in heaven without him, but with his face there, tormenting him?”

“Maybe you should finish reading the manuscript,” Chuck suggests. Becky is sure that whatever she’s about to read is going to make Carry On a million times worse, but she looks down anyway. 

Dean’s face twists in pain, and the Shadow smirks with smug satisfaction. Oh, delicious agony. 

It stands up, admiring its work. Finally, everyone within its depths is asleep. Now that its work is done, the Empty can finally rest. It dissolves, vanishing into itself, and it leaves Castiel and Dean Winchester behind, sleeping side-by-side, each tormented inside perfect nightmares. 

“WHAT?” Becky cries, standing up and throwing Carry On onto the ground. 

“Good, huh?” Chuck asks smugly, crossing his arms behind his head. 

“No!” Becky says. “Not good! What was that?”

“Dean can’t go to heaven,” Chuck says, rolling his eyes. “No souls that have been to hell can go there. And you remember what Billie said in The Road So Far. Next time Sam and Dean kicked the bucket, well. Empty time. So Dean and Cas are together. Everyone wins!”

“Nobody wins!” Becky cries. “You mean all that heaven stuff was a dream? Did any of that really happen?”

“Uh, no,” Chuck says. “Obviously. Dean is just dreaming it all. Sam’ll meet Betty in about a week. They’ll have a summer wedding next year. Dean Winchester Junior will be born by 2025.”

“Are you serious?” Becky asks. 

“Yeah,” Chuck says. “I’m God. Everything I say is true.”

“That can’t be right,” Becky says. “You’re really gonna end it like this?”

Chuck straightens, one eye flashing black, the other glowing white. Suddenly, he looks deadly serious, and the squirrelly, scruffy guy looks like something more. 

“Yes,” Chuck says. “I’m bored of this game. The Winchesters have been defeated. Sam and Dean will be miserable forever. Both of them thought they won, but they didn’t. I win.”

He stands and advances towards her. Becky backs away, wondering why her, of all people, why does she have to be the person God runs his rough drafts by?

“What are you going to do?” Becky asks, hoping to get him monologuing, and he smiles, a terrifying twist of his face. 

“Whatever I want,” he says, then he snaps his fingers, and everything goes black.

[ao3]

#chuck shurley #becky rosen #oh you know. #this is only 900 words btw #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #writingtag

[red-meat-my-beloved]

Here it is (and also on AO3 as usual)

I'd like to thank the academy and also tumblruser @brotherwives for putting me onto NSK

Trigger warnings: non-sexual kink, specifically pain and marking, mild gore, lucifer mention, weirdcest

It starts as a fight about nothing. Before Dean had gotten out of the bathroom, Sam had hogged the bigger bed, fanning out newspapers and police files around him, already fully immersed in the search for what had killed a group of teens on their prom night. They’d wrestled, paper crumpling and flying in all directions, until Dean, in a fit of childish antagonism, bit Sam in the shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to hurt.

Sam breathes in as if there’s suddenly not enough oxygen in the room. His muscles tense up under Deans hand holding him down and Dean realizes he went too far. He springs back and looks at Sam, mouth pulled taut and eyebrows knit together as if nothing happened, annoyed and waiting for Dean to move off of him. He doesn’t apologize, just grumbles ‘keep the stupid bed if you want it so bad’ and moves over the to the smaller one, keeping mostly to himself for the rest of the evening.

Sam never talks about the cage and Dean doesn’t need to know so he’d never bring it up, but moments like these make him wonder. He furiously tries to shake the thought of Lucifer looming over Sam, tearing off pieces of flesh with his teeth while his brother wails in agony.

After moving to the desk with his laptop, Sam posits that, since they were all found near a body of water, it could be a waterspirit, possibly a Rusalka, but they’ll have to conduct some interviews regarding a few suspicious deaths involving water to make sure.

“Good work. Let’s leave that for tomorrow.” Dean rights himself after hunching over the laptop screen, clapping Sam on the shoulder. Sam grunts and shakes Dean’s hand off.

“What? Are you really that delicate?” Dean scoffs.

“You really have the memory of a goldfish.” Sam retorts, pulling his collar over his shoulder, exposing a circle of small, purple bruises. The sight of it electrifies Dean, prickling up his spine until the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t realize he was staring until Sam pulls the fabric back, turning back to his laptop. He keeps looking at the now covered spot. He did that. A physical mark on Sam’s body to prove he’s here. That he’s with him. Lucifer might have left mental scars on Sam, but his body was made new, completely untouched by that son of a bitch.

And a blank slate for Dean to mark himself, he realizes.

He slips his fingers behind the fabric of Sam’s shirt again. Sam’s turns his head in confusion, but Dean doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead he fixates on the circle, beckoning him. The collar stretches until a few seams pop, and Sam’s about to protest, when Dean presses his thumb into the bruise. The whimper escaping Sam’s throat pulls Deans attention back to his face. Locking eyes with Dean, he looks scared and vulnerable, taking him back to when he was nine, begging Dean not to tell their dad about the chair he broke. Dean’s heart hammering loudly in his chest makes it hard to think.

“You ok, Sammy?” he hears himself say. Sam nods silently. Dean swivels the chair around to have better access. Sam stays put. Even when Dean pulls at the shirt, hands shaking, ripping it, Sam doesn’t move a muscle. He presses down again on the bruise, this time focusing on Sam’s face. Pupils dilate while he struggles to hold Dean’s gaze, shallow breaths and small noises in the back of his throat betray it’s not all pain he’s feeling as Dean digs into his injured shoulder.

Dean struggles to keep his own breathing even.

“Is this… are you… did i…” A million thoughts swim through his brain but he’s not able to trap one in a coherent sentence. Sam does it for him.

“It helps,” he manages after clearing his throat, “It helps when it’s you.”

Dean sucks in a breath at this. The room is completely silent. The rustling of fabric superimposed in Dean’s ears as Sam stands up, holding onto his wrist loosely to keep it from slipping off his shoulder.

“When it’s you, I know you’ll stop when I ask you to.” He tears his shirt the rest of the way, letting it pool at his feet. “You’ll stop right?”

Dean reckons a million archangels couldn’t tear him off of his brother now. Still, he answers “Of course, of course” breathlessly.

“Well then,” Sam states, still holding his gaze, nervous and open and so fucking beautiful. “Show me what you want to do to me.”

All the times Dean has complained about Sam’s size, he takes it all back. So much space to drag his nails across, sink his teeth in, pinch, and bruise. He pushes Sam, aiming for the middle of the bed, but his legs tangle in the tattered t-shirt and his head smacks against the headboard. Dean’s heartrate quickens at the sound. Sam recovers quickly and props himself up on his elbows to study Dean. The latter slinks closer, feeling like a tiger about to pounce on its prey.

He slides onto the bed, in between Sam’s legs, grabbing his wrists and pins them above his head. Looming over him, he can’t decide where to start. Too much choice, like the first run at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Mentally, he maps Sam’s fed-suit on his body, judging how far up he can go, if he could risk a hickey peeking out from under his collar.

As much as yearns to go straight for his neck, an obvious place he can look at later on, he remembers through the thrum in his head they still have a case to work tomorrow. Best to keep suspicious looks to a minimum.

He plays it safe, flipping him over; a simple task with Sam pliant under his hands. He zeroes in on Sam’s left shoulder blade, opposite to the bite mark and drags a fingernail down in a straight line. Sam shivers at the sensation, muscle underneath tensing and relaxing. He draws a half circle connecting to the first line on both ends, then a zigzag pattern next to it.

D.W.

Sam sucks in a breath when he realizes that’s what Dean is doing. He traces the letters again, adding pressure and marveling how the lines are forming angry welts. He does it again. The third time repeating the pattern, he notices the skin starting to break, the sixth, tiny droplets of blood well up. Dean doesn’t stop until both letters are bleeding evenly. They’re both quiet during the process, safe for Sam’s breathing. As the pain increases, his breathing gets heavier, paired with the occasional bitten back groan. The silence aiding the intimacy of the moment, until Dean breaks it.

“You still ok there little brother?” he asks, wiping his bloody finger on the bedsheet, teeth chattering in excitement. Sam nods, his forehead thumping into the mattress as he does, and steadies himself for what’s next.

Dean bites down next to the letters, into the muscle at the base of his neck. Harder than the first once, wants this one to last. Sam keens, white-knuckling the sheets in the process, but doesn’t ask to stop. Dean releases, but not before swiping his tongue along the teeth marks, feeling the raised skin and dents caked in saliva.

He moves further down, grazing his teeth across Sam’s ribs, feeling him shiver, but thinks better of it. Instead he molds his lips against the sensitive skin and sucks. The reaction he gets is more that gratifying. Sam bucks, letting out a high-pitched whimper Dean’s pretty sure will get the neighbors come knocking if he does it again. Dean wonders what other noises he can get Sam to make.

He makes his way across Sam’s back, biting, sucking and squeezing, wringing out every sound he can. When there’s no space left he leans back, marveling at the kaleidoscope of colors the bruises form. Sam’s crying, been for a while now. Sniffling into the blanket, shoulders rocking with every sob. Crying from pain, exhaustion and emotions Dean doesn’t dare to identify, but not once did he ask to stop. As if he’s coming down from a high, Dean feels tired. His arms fall limply to his side.

“Sammy still good? I think we’re done for today.” He declares between panting breaths. “You hang tight for a little longer, I’ll clean you up.” He takes a moment to gather himself, then swings off the bed. Passing the alarm clock on the nightstand, it blinks accusingly, angry red digits screaming they’ve been at it, whatever it was, for more than an hour. He comes back with damp towels and a first aid kit, where Sam is still lying obediently on the bed.

“If only you listened this well all the time.” Dean smirks, climbing back onto the bed.

“Get bent.” Sam answers, muffled with his face still pressed into the mattress. Dean shakes his head, unfurling one of the towels and carefully starts cleaning Sam’s back. The warm water must feel like welcome relieve, Sam’s been lying still, half naked, this entire time. He relaxes under the touch, breathing becoming slow and even. Dean makes sure not to press too hard, just enough to wipe away the blood and saliva, assessing which wounds will heal on their own and which need bandaging. He’s pleased to find most are already scabbing over. It’s only Dean’s initials that need disinfecting and bandaging up. He doesn’t realize he’s humming along to a non-existent radio, lost in the familiarity of patching someone up, until Sam calls him out on it.

“Wanna put on some music?” Sam asks, craning his head back.

“Uh, sure, what do you have?” Dean asks, taken aback slightly.

It should be weird. It should be really fucking weird, but Sam’s scrolling through a playlist on his phone while Dean rubs alcohol on his own initials he carved into his brothers back with his bare hands and it’s not.

The soft tones of The Beatles’ Blackbird creak out of the tiny speaker as Dean finds himself taking longer than necessary, tracing the initials over and over, even when the gauze is already in place.

He did that. He tore him open and stuck him back together again and Sam let him.

Sam’s face is still puffy and salt-streaked from dried tears, so Dean hands him a clean towel. He can’t do that for him, can’t quite look him in the eyes just yet. When Sam’s done, he leans over, dumping the towel unceremoniously on the ground.

“You know,” he says when he gets back up, cocking an eyebrow while assessing the space around him, “I think this bed is probably big enough to share.”

#red writes #weirdcest #gencest #in that sweet spot of not wincest but dont read this if you dont like wincest #repeating the triggers: #nsk #pain kink #marking #biting #mild gore #lucifer mention #this was so much fun to write #definitely not the last time writing nsk 🤗