Little Red Riding Hood AU
It was dark in the woods that surrounded the village. It didn't matter if it was summer, with the sun blazing bright and high, or winter, with no leaves on the trees to block out the rays. It was always dark in the woods. As if the sun had better things to do than waste its time trying to breathe fresh light into the ancient and resistant air of those trees.
The village itself, however, was full of light and energy. You glanced around the bustling market of the town square, full of people despite the bitter wind and the fresh layer of snow on the ground. Children ran freely, adults laughed as they traded stories and teasing insults, and you watched contentedly, pulling your red cloak tight around you against the cold. Your hand ran over the fabric lingeringly. It was rich in color and fabric, and had once belonged to your mother. It was the only truly nice thing you owned.
When your errands were complete, your basket half-full of food for the next few days, you started back to your small cottage. Your brother would be waiting, probably at the door. You glanced toward the woods as you walked and shivered, the light happiness of the town square forgotten as the trees loomed over the village, dangerous and foreboding.
"Where have you been?" Castiel was standing outside, the dark blue cloak he wore accentuating his eyes, as full of concern as always. You rolled yours as you closed the distance. Ever since your mother died, Castiel had been on you like a fly to honey. He insisted it was his role as the dutiful older brother, but you always felt as though maybe he was afraid to lose you too.
"Calm yourself, Castiel," you patted his arm as you walked through the door. "I had to get a few things and I knew you wouldn't remember." You clucked your tongue at him. Placing the basket on the small table, you quickly untied your cloak and hung it on the wall so as not to wrinkle it. The flames from the fireplace danced around the cottage, illuminating the deep red color. You sighed and turned back to him, smiling widely as he still pouted.
"I've been impatient because we've received a post today," he finally exhaled and began tugging off his cloak, tossing it on the chair as he rifled through the basket. His eyes widened as he pulled out the sweet honey roll. He looked up at you and smiled your favorite sideways smile. "For me?" His eyes twinkled and you couldn't help but smile back.
"Of course. So, what was this post?" You sat down at the table, grabbing an apple as you watched him.
He shoved the honey roll into his mouth, small crumbs at the corners of his lips as tried to swallow quickly.
"Well," he began, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door. A cold gust came in as Charlie stumbled through.
"It is freezing!" she shook her body, her purple cloak making her red hair seem darker. You jumped up and ran to hug her. Charlie had been your best friend since you could remember, always side by side through every adventure. She let you go and turned to Castiel. "Are you seriously eating a honey roll before dinner?" she rebuked him, and for the first time you saw his cheeks flush pink. Castiel always seemed put off by Charlie. You assumed it was because of how assertive and loud she could be.
"Charlie, I got you something too!" You raised your eyebrows and she turned on her heel, her face pure joy. You reached into the basket and pulled out the small cherry tart pie. She rushed forward and brought it to her lips before stopping.
"Thank you Y/N, but I think I'll wait 'til after dinner," she said, shooting a glance back at Castiel who had just shoved the remaining piece into his mouth.
"S'rry," he grumbled through his mouthful. He wiped his lips on his sleeve before clearing his throat and looking at you. "The post was a letter from Grandmother. She isn't feeling well and requested you stop by soon to help her rid herself of the cough she has." He pulled out a chair as you clapped excitedly.
"Yes, I haven't seen Grandmother in quite some time. I'll make a few remedies tonight and head out tomorrow morning then." You jumped up and began heading towards your cabinet of herbs and spices. You had been known to concoct some very powerful potions and other various ointments.
"But wait, doesn't your grandmother live in the woods?" Charlie called over to you. Grabbing some ginger root, peppermint oil, and your mortar bowl, you walked back over to the table.
"Yes, she lives a few miles into the woods, usually takes me about an hour or so to get there." You began crushing the ginger in the bowl, its aroma immediately filling the room.
"You can't go in the woods!" Charlie nearly screeched as she looked between you and Castiel, her eyes wide with fear. Castiel and you shared a look of confusion as she sighed deeply. "Do you two ever pay attention to the local talks?" she muttered as she grabbed some potatoes from the basket and began peeling them.
"No, not really," you laughed a little, musing about the pies your grandmother would have waiting.
"You should! There have been three girls missing in a fortnight," she stood up and moved to the fireplace, the pot of water just beginning to boil as she tossed in the diced potatoes. "Claims of a wolf killing and possibly eating these girls have been made. The judge is considering imposing a curfew and a temporary ban from the woods." She wiped her hands off and sat back down, grabbing some carrots as she did.
"Well, I'd go during the day, so at least there'd be some sunlight," you offered as you added in the oil, its scent immediately eliciting a small 'mmm' from Castiel.
"The woods are too dark, even then. You should not go." she huffed as she finished the carrots, Castiel watching her intently. "What do you think Cas?" she shot him a look and his eyes widened.
"Oh, well," he blushed as he sat back, glancing at you with a small smile, "I think Y/N will be okay. She has done that trek many times before, and she'll be back before sunset or Grandmother will insist she stay over if it gets too dark," he offered. Charlie gaped at him.
"You two are both absolutely insane," she slammed the knife on the table, standing up to bring the carrots to the stew. "Don't go into those woods, Y/N." Her eyes were pleading as she looked over to you.
Within moments the conversation has switched back to Charlie's day at the pub, and how many pints old man Singer had finished before noon. You continued mixing your ingredients as you wondered about those missing girls and those dark foreboding woods.
–
The next day you found yourself wrapped in the brilliant red cloak, basket on your arm full of fresh bread, potions, and other ointments. Kissing Cas on the cheek, you walked out into the blistering cold, the wind biting through to the bone. The village hadn't seen its first true snowfall yet, just a light dusting, but you were certain it wasn't too far away. You cut through the neighbor's back field, forgoing the path your mother had taken you on those many years ago. Castiel had told you of another way last night that he had taken before, cutting off almost 20 minutes of travel time. By the time you reached the edge of the woods, having stopped to talk with a few neighbors about the impending weather, it was nearly noon, the sun shining high in the sky, it's presence somehow misleading as cool air whipped through your hair.
You tried not to think about Charlie's words. Those rumors surfaced every few years, and they were always completely unfounded. You had been walking these woods your whole life, and you were certain that it was just silly gossip. But you couldn't get the thought of the missing girls out of your mind. No one had ever gone missing before.
You walked quickly. An eerie silence descended, and you suddenly missed the sounds of birds, insects, wind in the trees- the sounds of life around you. Ignoring the tingly shiver up your spine, you walked on. The day grew increasingly darker around you.
You had always enjoyed the journey to your grandmother's house in the past, especially since your parents' passing. She was the only true family you and Cas had, and it had always seemed safe and comforting to be on your way to her house. But today, you couldn't shake the bad feeling Charlie had put in your head. Everything was too cold, too bitter, too gray and lifeless.
A snap of a twig behind you broke the silence. You whirled around toward the noise, your cloak billowing around you in the wind.
Nothing.
You giggled nervously to yourself as you continued on your way, shaking your head and feeling foolish for being so scared. Stop being a child, you thought. There's nothing out here.
A few minutes later, another twig snapped, and you picked up your pace. Charlie may be exaggerating, but there could still be dangerous animals here. Better to get to your grandmother's house as quickly as possible.
Suddenly, he was in front of you. Large, looming, all snarling teeth and gray fur.
The wolf.
Charlie was right. She had to be. You'd seen a couple of wolves in your lifetime, lounging at the edge of the trees, but none of them had ever looked like this. You heart stopped as you stared up at the creature, too huge to be real. Steam curled from his nostrils as he narrowed his eyes at you, pawing at the ground. Frozen to the spot, you watched as he advanced, moving slowly and purposefully, his low growl vibrating in your chest. You backed away, not taking your eyes off of the wolf, until your back hit the solid bark of a tree.
There was nowhere left to go.
You stumbled backwards, fear creeping up your throat as you felt your heart pounding in your chest. The wolf continued to slowly creep towards you, his eyes familiar somehow. You wanted to scream, but your voice caught in your throat. You decided you'd have to make a run for it, to run and not look back. Before you could move, the wolf pounced forward. You waited for him to grab you. Instead you heard a loud whimper, followed by a thud.
"RUN!" you heard a deep voice bellow and your eyes, which you didn't even realize were squeezed shut, flew open. Right past the wolf was a man standing with a bow held out, his body framed by the soft setting sun as he motioned for you to move.
Taking a deep breath, you bolted past the wolf just as he began to rise, the arrow having grazed his arm. You ran and held out your hand to the man, who immediately engulfed it with his, turning to run through the woods. You could hear growling and heavy footsteps behind you as you followed your recent savior. He darted in and out of the trees, his grip never loosening on your hand as branches flew by you, every now and then whipping your skin.
At one point it sounded as though the wolf was right behind you. Panic set in and you bolted forward and promptly ran into the back of the stranger, your basket ricocheting off of his back. A few items went flying as he kept moving, ignoring the basket that had crashed into him. You gripped the basket tighter and prayed that what had fallen out was not those precious medicines.
The wind continued to whip your face, your breathing heavier as you tried to keep up. The woods were a tricky landscape, hidden rocks and slippery leaf piles, you were almost sure you had hurt your ankle, but the adrenaline kept you going. That, and the warmth of this strangers hand.
Finally, after what felt like miles, the man slowed down. Again, you didn't notice, and you ran into his back, letting out a huff as you did. He didn't seem to care or notice as he let go of your hand, scouting the small area surrounding what looked like a cave. You stood there nervously, turning at every little sound. Finally, he motioned for you to come inside with him, your breathing still labored as you stumbled into the cave.
"You think we're safe here?" you asked, catching your breath. The man nodded at you, silently standing at the entrance to the cave, still on edge and watching the woods carefully.
"You're...you're Dean Winchester, aren't you? The blacksmith?" He didn't turn around. "How did you know I was in trouble? How did you know I was out here at all?"
He ignored your questions. "I think we'd best stay here for the night, and in the morning, I'll see you back to the village."
"No!" you cried, startling him. "I'm sorry," you said more softly, "I truly appreciate your kindness- you saved my life! It's just that I was on my way to see my grandmother. She's very sick, and I must get to her as soon as possible. So as soon as I am sure it is safe, I'll be on my way."
"I can't convince you to come back to the village with me?"
"I'm afraid I can't."
"Then I'll accompany you to your grandmother's."
"Oh, no, you don't have to-"
"I'm not leaving you alone in the woods." His deep voice was almost angry, and you didn't argue with him.
Nodding, you whispered a thank you before turning to your basket. Luckily, all the medicines you had brought for your grandmother seemed to be intact. However, all the food had been lost when you fell, and you realized had nothing to offer Dean for dinner.
"I'm sorry, I think all of the dinner I had has been lost to the wolf. Maybe I have something..." You knelt and dug around in your basket frantically, the terror of the situation catching up with you and making you tremble. A strong hand landed on top of yours, holding you still.
"It's okay. We'll make do for tonight." Dean's voice was warmer now, and he smiled kindly at you, making you forget for a moment about your dire circumstances. "Get some sleep," he suggested. "That cloak looks soft and warm enough for you to wrap up in."
You noticed then that he was shivering, wearing only a light jacket over his work clothes. It was terribly improper, you knew, but nothing about this night was normal, so you threw caution to the wind and held the cloak open as wide as you could.
"There's no reason for you to freeze, either."
Dean hesitated for a moment, then moved to lay beside you, half-propped up against the wall of the small cave, one half of your cloak wrapped around him. You leaned to wrap the other side around both of you, and found yourself cradled against his warm chest, the cloak protecting both of you from the cold. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks at the embarrassment of being so close to a stranger, but it wasn't unpleasant.
You quickly fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
–
The cold crept through your body, causing you to stir as the low glow of the dawn grew at the edge of cave. You realized Dean had wrapped the cloak tightly around him, causing some of your body to be exposed to the cool air.
Your head was still somewhat on his chest and your heart fluttered as you listened to his steady heart-beat, somehow calming you. You chanced a glance up at him through your lashes. His eyes were closed, and his pale pink lips opened slightly. Now you could actually see just how handsome Dean Winchester really was; girls in the village had always talked, but for some reason you had rarely caught any glimpse of this so called 'attractive' man. Your hand on his chest splayed slightly as your fingers dug into the soft fabric of his shirt. His breathing hitched and his eyes slowly opened. He looked at you through sleep hooded eyes before realizing where he was, those impossibly green orbs going wide as he inhaled deeply.
He didn't take his eyes off of you though, both of you staring at each other for what felt like a century, the tension building higher and higher. Finally you rubbed your thumb over his chest and he snapped. Instantly, those pink lips found yours, your body shifting up his for easier access. Somehow, he tasted of cinnamon and something completely different you couldn't quite name. Your hand moved to cup his face, his tongue now tangling with yours as he rolled you over.
He had you pinned to the ground, and despite the cold you had felt moments before, your body was now on fire as his lips somehow perfectly fit yours. His hips were pushing into you and you let out a low gasp as he smiled against your lips. You threaded your fingers through his hair as he continued to memorize every nook of your mouth. His hands moved to ghost down your side. Everything was right, it was almost like his saving you was fate, a big plan in the universe for you two to meet. Just as his hand found your clothed hip you pushed him off of you, the dark reality crashing down on you.
He pulled back slightly as he continued to kiss your neck softly.
"I-I can't do this Dean," you whimpered as he nipped at your earlobe.
"That's okay, we can wait," his breath was hot against your neck and you shivered.
"No I mean," you pushed him completely back so you were looking straight up to those forest green eyes, the gold specks shining through as he smiled down at you, "I'm..I'm promised to Gabriel, I can't do this, not with you,"
"Gabriel?" his face fell as his brows arched up. His chest was heaving slightly as he held himself up above you.
"Yes," you shifted from under him, Dean moving and falling beside you with a sigh, "I'm promised," you mumbled weakly, suddenly feeling very alone and cold without the feeling of his lips on you. After a long silence Dean finally cleared his throat,
"We should go," he stood up and brushed off his pants. You rose silently and gathered your things, wiping off your cloak as you followed him to the edge of the cave. You half wished he'd hold out his hand for you, but he didn't. Instead he began walking briskly into the woods.
"Do you know where we are?" you muttered after a few moments.
Just as Dean turned to reply you saw what looked like a small cottage up ahead, the smoke coming from the chimney alerting you to someone being home.
"Oh, look," you pointed, and Dean followed your finger, "They might be able to help us."
Dean's jaw tensed as he contemplated your words. Finally, he grabbed your hand and began walking slowly towards the cottage. You gripped the basket tightly and followed him silently.
Walking closer you realized it was definitely not your grandmother's cottage, nor anyone else you knew to live in the woods.
"Stay behind me and be quiet," Dean whispered over his shoulder. Just as you got close there was a gust of wind that caused the small fence to creak loudly. Dean looked at you, and you gasped as you saw a figure behind him.
"Hello Dean. Hello Y/N."
The woman in the doorway was small, with wild, vividly red hair. Her black lace dress was heavy and long, shimmering in what little sunlight filtered through the trees.
"Have we met?" Dean asked, moving to completely shield you with his broad back.
"No, but that doesn't mean we don't know each other."
You stepped out of Dean's shadow to get a better look at the woman with the lilting, strange accent. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and shook his head in warning, the movement barely perceptible.
"Relax," the woman continued. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Dean didn't appear convinced. "How do you know me?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised what the woods can tell you if you listen." She smiled prettily, the expression making her look almost sweet, and stared up at the trees shading her cottage. "You're Dean Winchester, the blacksmith of the village. And you," she turned her eyes on you, "you're Y/N. Castiel's younger sister. I believe your grandmother lives in these same woods, does she not?"
"Who are you?" you asked, your voice betraying how nervous you felt.
"Call me Rowena. Come in, and we'll have a chat."
Dean's response was immediate. "No."
"Oh, please. If I wanted to hurt you, dear, you'd be hurt."
You could feel the tension radiating off of Dean. "Dean," you whispered, knowing she could still hear you, "we should talk to her."
"Why? What could she possibly have to tell us? She's just a crazy hag."
You gave a tight, apologetic smile to the woman, then turned on Dean. "She's a witch," you hissed, as quietly as you could. "I can tell. And she's right, if she was going to hurt us, we wouldn't be standing here, perfectly fine. She might know something about that wolf and the missing girls."
Dean looked back and forth between you and Rowena several times before taking a deep breath and sighing. He kept one hand curled tightly around his bow as you entered her cottage, ready to defend himself, and you, in a fraction of a second. That thought made you feel warm and safe, but you shrugged it off. This was not the time for frivolous thoughts.
"I assume you met the wolf?" she asked, sitting down at a small wooden table and gesturing for the two of you to do the same. You took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and savory scent of the spices and herbs hanging from the cottage's ceiling to dry. There were ancient books strewn about everywhere, strange symbols on their covers. Yes, Rowena was definitely a witch.
"What do you know of the wolf?" Dean asked warily, ignoring the invitation to sit. Clearly, he wasn't going to give anything away until he knew exactly what Rowena's intentions were.
"What I know is that you shouldn't be roaming about the woods." She was answering Dean's question, but her eyes never left you. "It's dangerous. Especially for you, Y/N. You are exactly what the wolf is looking for."
"I don't understand," you said. "Our village is full of hunters. Why has no one stopped this wolf?"
Rowena laughed coldly. "Dear child, you're assuming the wolf is a wolf."
"What does that mean?" Dean practically growled, clearly fed up with her evasiveness.
"It means that you cannot kill what is not really there."
Dean grabbed your hand and headed for the door of the cottage. "This is a waste of time. We're leaving."
You didn't argue, happy to be out of the witch's home. Her refusal to give you a straight answer made you nervous.
As you quickly walked along the path, you tried to ignore the fact that Dean still hadn't let go of your hand, but you could feel his skin burning into yours. With a disappointment in your gut that you pretended wasn't there, you pulled your hand away.
"Are you still insisting on coming with me to my grandmother's house?"
Dean narrowed his eyes. "Do you want me to?"
You stared into his eyes, somehow glittering green despite the fact that there was no sunlight to be reflected, feeling far too many things to give him a simple answer. Dean eventually took pity on you and shrugged.
"It's not safe. I can't, in good conscience, leave you alone knowing that the wolf is still out there. Lead the way."
And so you led Dean through the woods, walking over fallen tree stumps and ignoring the feeling of his eyes burning into you from behind. Every time you came to a familiar area, it suddenly changed and became run down and dark, the low sounds of unknown animals croaking and hissing from the dark corners. You simply turned around and ignored Dean's pointed stare each time, walking a different way you were almost positive was correct.
At one point, your heel slid on wet leaves and you nearly fell back, but Dean's strong arms grabbed you, holding you tight as you looked up at him with wide eyes. His eyes shone down on you, both of you trying to ignore the growing tension.
"Oh, um, thank you," you stammered. You smiled up at him, and his stare finally broke. Shaking his head lightly, his face returned to the stoic expression he had worn since Rowena's cottage.
He lifted you back to your feet, your head still feeling dizzy from Dean's gaze. You adjusted your cloak and began slowly walking forward, until Dean let out a low huff.
"What?" you turned to look at him and he widened his eyes, part of his face hidden in shadows as the sun made a rare appearance through the bare tree branches. He lifted an arm to shield his eyes and stepped forward, a small smile playing on those soft pink lips.
"Gabe? Seriously...as in Gabriel?" he grinned, slightly confused. You were stuck staring at the way the sun made his freckles practically jump off his face, eventually realizing he had spoken.
"Wh-what? That's what you were just pouting about?" you cocked your head at him and he licked his lips, his eyes crinkling at some private joke of his.
"Don't mistake my shock for pouting, just...I can't believe you're with Gabe," he shrugged his shoulders. You watched him for a little while longer, wondering what was going on in his head, until he motioned for you to keep walking.
"Come on Y/N, only a few more hours of sunlight...unless you don't know where we are?" The smugness in his smile made you purse your lips as you spun around. Each direction seemed the same, no changes in trees or pathways, until you saw it. Up on the right, to the east, you saw purple flowers lining the path- an old tell-tale sign you were close to Grandmother's.
"I know where we are!" you exclaimed, and grabbed his hand excitedly, pulling him towards the flowered area. The sun seemed to change with your mood, the pathway seemingly more bright and alive than the others had been all day.
Your pace quickened to a slight trot, and you let go of Dean's hand as you turned right at the large oak tree. In the distance you saw your grandmother's cottage, soft smoke billowing from her chimney.
"See! Right there!" you pointed without really turning to face Dean. You practically skipped the entire way there, shouting for her as you reached the fence. Dean stayed right behind you as you opened the gate, walking up to the door and knocking loudly.
There was no answer but you continued to rap your knuckles against the worn wood.
"Grandmother! It's me, Y/N!" your voice became shaky and Dean's hand suddenly covered yours, his grip tightening and effectively stopping your knocks.You turned to look at him, your face worried as he moved your hand to your waist.
"Let's just check inside, maybe she's sleeping, or has decided to head into the village," he offered reassuringly. Somehow, you felt he was just placating you, protecting you from a different truth.
Dean slowly pushed at the door and found that it was left unlocked, his brows slanting upwards as he opened the door. The hinges creaked and you both looked into the small living area. No one was there, though a faint fire burned in the fireplace. You pushed past Dean and ran into the house, your heart racing as you opened your mouth to call for your grandmother again.
His warm hand suddenly wrapped around your mouth and you turned in his grip, eyes wide as he looked at you. Holding his index finger to his lips, he mouthed "Quiet" as he let go of you, your head nodding limply. Dean then scouted the entire cottage, walking into the side room as you waited nervously by the table. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, no signs of struggle or dismay, but somehow you still had an uneasy feeling.
Dean emerged from the room a few moments later, eyes meeting yours as he shook his head no.
"I don't know where she could be," your hand flew to your mouth, biting a nail anxiously as Dean walked over, his hand grabbing your arms and holding on tight.
"Hey, it's okay, I'm sure she's okay," his eyes flicked between yours, trying to calm you down, "let's go into the village and see if we can rouse together a search party."
You looked at him long and hard before finally agreeing. Dean swept the cottage one last time for any sign or trace but came up with nothing. He walked towards the door and opened it, the sun shining still high in the sky, but not quite reaching the air around you. He turned in the doorway and held out his hand for you, your mind reeling as you put your hand in his.
You shouldn't have felt so relieved that he was staying with you.
You held his hand the entire way back to the village, the skin contact the only thing keeping you from panicking as you grew increasingly more worried about your grandmother. A thousand scenarios of what could have happened to her ran through your head, none of them pleasant, and you were starting to think that the two of you should be scouring the woods for her, not calmly heading back to the village.
"Dean," you tugged on his hand. "We should go back. We should look for her." You started to shake, the reality of the situation settling in.
Dean squeezed your hand and stepped close enough that he was hovering over you. "Y/N, everything is going to be okay." The calm in his voice washed over you. "We will find her, but we need to get to the village. We need to let everyone know what's going on and get help."
You nodded. He was right. No one knew where you were or what you were doing, no one would know where to look for you if you went missing. You took a deep breath to try and calm your racing pulse, and let Dean pull your forward, out of the woods and into the sunlight.
The second you stepped out of the trees, on the edge of the village, the world turned brighter. It was like waking from a dream, everything suddenly too vivid and real in the late afternoon sunset. Dean looked at you sadly, but you were interrupted before you could ask him what was wrong.
"Y/N! You're safe!"
Dean dropped your hand as your brother nearly knocked you over in a tight hug.
"I have been beside myself with worry! Where were you? You should have been back yesterday evening."
Castiel held you at arm's length and peered into your face, bright blue eyes searching you for an explanation.
"I'm fine, really. I just...the wolf tried to attack me."
"The wolf?" You finally noticed that Castiel was not alone. The man who had spoken was tall, with long, dark brown hair tied at the nape of his neck. You recognized him as Dean's younger brother, Sam Winchester. "What happened? I was just getting ready to come look for you, and I ran into Castiel, who said that Y/N was missing, too..."
Dean answered as Castiel looked between the two of you in horror. "I was tracking a deer. I heard the commotion and found Y/N cornered by the wolf."
"Is the wolf dead?" Sam asked, concerned, but not nearly as frightened as your brother seemed to be.
"Injured, not dead. We managed to get away, but we had to hide for the night."
The look on Castiel's face turned from fear to outrage. "You spent the night in the woods? With Dean Winchester?" You simply looked at him, not understanding his anger. "Have you lost your mind? Don't you know of his reputation? And what of yours? Your engaged, Y/N!"
"Nothing happened, Castiel," Dean said quietly, dangerously.
"Do not speak to me as if you have any honor, Winchester. How dare you risk my family name with this behavior!"
"Castiel!" you cried angrily. "You should be thanking Dean. I would be dead, torn to bits by the wolf if it weren't for him. And maybe you should be more worried about our missing grandmother than my reputation! Which, I might add, is perfectly in tact." You prayed silently that Dean wouldn't tell anyone, not even his brother, of your momentary lack of judgment in the cave.
Castiel looked like you had slapped him. This was the first time you had ever openly defied him. He searched for words, but none came, so he simply grabbed your wrist and began pulling you behind him, practically running to keep up.
"We are going to discuss this in private!"
There was nothing to do but go with him and explain everything that had happened. Hopefully, he would calm down and focus on what was important: your grandmother.
Even as you willingly went with him, you couldn't stop yourself from turning your head back to Dean. Your eyes met, and raw emotion flooded through you. Dean looked so bewildered, so hurt, and you felt a sudden need to comfort him, to assure him that he had done nothing wrong, and that you were grateful for his help.
You felt something else as well. A heavy weight settled in your stomach, and pain flowed through you at the thought of being pulled away from the man that had saved you. The idea of not seeing Dean again cut through you like a knife, fresh tears flooding your eyes.
What was wrong with you? You barely knew him, and yet it felt as if you were leaving a part of yourself behind.
Once back at your cottage, you locked yourself into your small bedroom, refusing to talk to Castiel until the morning, when you had both calmed down.
You dreamt of the feel of Dean's lips on yours.
s mind. He spent the better half of the morning rebuking you for spending the night with Dean. It seemed futile to even argue with him, his dark blue eyes threatening as he spoke.
"Castiel, will you listen to yourself?" you finally spoke up, hands clenching into fists on the table. He shot you a look from the window before turning to face you fully. You cleared your throat, deciding your next words carefully. "Rather than attack my 'character'" you inhaled deeply, "can we please talk about what we are going to do to find our grandmother? She was not in her cottage, Cas. The entire area was empty and there was no sign of her having left willingly. Her cloak as still hanging on the wall." Your replayed the scene in your mind for the hundredth time that day, trying to remember every aspect of your grandmother's house in the woods, trying to remember any clue.
Castiel took a deep breath before sitting down next to you, a little calmer. "You are right, Y/N. I am..I am sorry for my outburst. I just worry." He grabbed your hands and squeezed them lightly. You gave him a reassuring smile as his eyes flitting between yours. "If you knew what I know of Dean Winchester, you'd understand. But that's not important now. I suggest we canvas the village and see if she's stopped at any of her old friends' homes. If nothing turns up, I'll rally together a few people to begin a search." He rose and pecked your forehead lightly.
"While I do that, why don't you go talk to Charlie?" Cas quickly tied on his cloak and shot you a quick smile before heading off into the day. Slowly, you walked over to the deep red cloak, your hand clutching the material tightly as a pit formed in your stomach. Where was grandmother?
–
You walked toward the center of the village, noticing that the markets were in full swing. Merchants yelled out their prices for spices, jewelry, or fine cloths as people passed. You stopped to talk to the older woman who occasionally sold you spices.
"Hello darling," she gave you a toothy grin as she tighter the kerchief around her head, "Sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your smile faltered at her words.
"M-my grandmother?"
"Yes dearie, I heard she wasn't feeling well," she croaked as she wrapped up some lavender. She gave you a quick wink as she handed you the package. "From my own personal garden at home. Make her a nice tea."
"Thank you Mrs. Singer. Tell Bob I said hello." You gave her a bright smile before turning towards the town square. A familiar voice caught your ear, and you turned to see Dean talking loudly with Sam and a few other men you didn't recognize. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, his easy smile and serious eyes. He was listening intently to Sam, until his eyes caught your movement. He turned his head, surprise washing over his face before breaking into a small smile.
As you moved toward him you heard another voice calling your name, pulling you from Dean's stare. A familiar voice. You turned, giving a bright smile to Gabriel, walking towards you quickly.
"Gabriel!" Your voice sounded falsely cheerful, and you knew your cheeks were flushing at almost being caught staring at Dean. If Gabriel noticed, he was enough of a gentleman not to comment. He took your hand and raised it to his lips, and you did your best to ignore the feel of Dean's eyes boring into you.
"Y/N, my dear, how are you? I spoke with Castiel earlier, and he told me of your misfortune." His honey eyes were wide and concerned.
Panic surged through you. Castiel wouldn't tell Gabriel about you being with Dean, would he? Surely not. Your brother might disapprove, but he wouldn't shame you that way.
"Misfortune?"
Gabriel's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Your grandmother..."
You wanted to hang your head in guilt and shame. How could you be worried about Dean at a time like this?
"Yes, my grandmother. She was sick, and now she is nowhere to be found."
Gabriel nodded. "Castiel also told me that you were attacked by the wolf." He raised his voice, drawing the attention of the men around him, including Dean and Sam. "There's a group of brave men going out into the woods tonight. Do not worry. We won't return until the wolf is dead."
You wanted to thank him, to tell him to be careful, but he was already speaking with several men who had joined him, explaining his plan.
"That's a fool's errand, Gabriel." Dean's voice cut across the market as if he was standing next to you.
Gabriel sized Dean up slowly, then sneered. "What do you know of the wolf, Winchester?"
"I know that it isn't an ordinary wolf."
Chuckling, Gabriel brushed Dean off, taking your hand and pulling you along behind him. "You know nothing, blacksmith."
You gave Dean an apologetic look as you walked past, but he bit his lip and turned away angrily. His expression stayed in your thoughts the rest of the day, no matter how hard you tried to push it away.
–
That evening, you and your brother were cleaning up your dinner remains when a loud knock sounded on your door. A flurry of movement pushed Castiel back when he opened the door, and you found yourself face to face with Fergus Crowley, the richest man in the village. His money and influence translated to leader of the village, at least in his mind. Though you knew who he was- everyone did- you had never actually spoken to him.
"Mr. Crowley!" Cas' voice showed his surprise. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Crowley trained his eyes on you, a practiced, charming smile on his lips. "I am merely here to offer my services. I have heard of your recent hardship, you see, and I hate to think of anyone in the village struggling needlessly. How can I help?" He opened his hands as if waiting for instructions, wide smile perfectly in place, but you still shivered slightly. Those eyes never left yours, intense and unsettling.
"We thank you so much for your concern," you said, your voice a tiny bit shaky. "I believe Gabriel, my brother, and some of the other men are forming a hunting party to go after the wolf tonight, but I am more concerned about my grandmother."
"Of course you are, dear child." Mr. Crowley moved to stand directly in front of you, a hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was smooth, pleasant, and you tried to let it wash over you, to let it calm you. "As am I. I will take point in the search party, and we will not rest until your grandmother is found and the wolf is dead. Don't worry your pretty little head." His hand lingered a little longer than it should, but maybe that was just in your mind.
You put on your red cloak once more and followed Mr. Crowley and Castiel back into the early evening. The sun was still burning lightly in the sky, hues of purple mixing with the flaming orange about the trees. You wrapped your cloak tight as you walked behind the men. They discussed tactics in hushed voices as your mind wandered to green eyes. There was no possible way you had developed 'feelings' for someone so soon, so quick. Was there? Definitely not.
You were promised to Gabriel. And he was a good man.
Closer to the center of town stood a group of men and few women in cloaks. You saw the deep purple one you knew to belong to Charlie.
Castiel walked off with Crowley. The men gathered around the affluent man, their heads nodding vigorously to anything he said. A few times, Crowley's eyes met yours and there was a slight uneasiness to the stare, his wicked smile stirring something in you, but you couldn't quite place it.
Charlie sought you out and began talking about work, or your friends Meg and Jo...you weren't sure. Youwere too busy scanning the crowd for those familiar eyes, but you didn't see any green. Only those of Gabriel, who shot you a wink, and Crowley's.
"Are you even paying attention, Y/N?" Charlie grabbed your arm, laughter on her face as she looked over to Gabe. "Oh, sharing googly eyes?"
You smacked her arm lightly as she let out a hearty laugh. "No, I was just looking for someone," you frowned slightly as you continued to scan the crowd for the umpteenth time.
"Is it Dean?"
Your head snapped at his name, eyes widening as your best friend gave you a smug smirk. "What..How did you know...do you know Dean?" You tried to keep a calm demeanor and straight face, but your fingers began playing with the seam of your cloak. Charlie noticed this little tick of yours and laughed.
"It's okay, Y/N.. I believe you didn't do anything improper." She gave you a big wink. "Castiel came into the pub, steam practically bursting out of his ears with how angry he was at Dean," she shrugged, "so naturally I was intrigued as to how Castiel came to be angry at anyone, let alone Dean Winchester. But now I can see why," she gave a smile, her eyes shining mischievously. "Does he know you're smitten?"
"Wh-what? I am not smitten with anyone..." Charlie raised her eyebrows at you and you fumbled. "I mean, I'm smitten with Gabriel, of course."
"Did I hear my name?" Gabriel's arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close. Charlie chuckled as your cheeks burned hot red. Gabriel looked between you, a smile wide on his face.
"Oh, Y/N was just saying that she's smitten," Charlie exaggerated the word as she winked. You could feel Gabriel looking at you, so you turned and gave him a tight smile.
"Did she?" He gave you a heart-melting smile as he rubbed your back lightly. He leaned forward and pecked your lips. He turned to Charlie, pulling you tighter. "Don't say anything, Charlie, but I am quite smitten with Y/N as well." He held up a finger to his mouth, as though to insist the secret be kept. You chuckled nervously as you pulled away from him, realizing that his arms were not the ones you currently wanted to be in.
"I think we should head out, don't you?" You looked at the few around you. Gabe shook his head lightly in a negative gesture.
"Because you had such a close call last time, Castiel and I decided you should sit this search out, my sweet. Rest tonight and maybe you can help tomorrow." He kissed your forehead and you pushed him away, anger washing over you.
"Oh, so now you make decisions for me as well as my brother?" you spat, and Charlie awkwardly turned away.
"No it's just..." Gabe started towards you, but you turned on your heel and skulked away. "Where are you going?" he hissed at you, grabbing your elbow. You ripped it out of his grip and ignored the few looks you were getting.
"I'm ...I'm going home." You bit your tongue. "I don't want to fight with you or Castiel right now, so I'll just go." You shot him a fake smile. He seemed to accept it, backing away.
"Okay, thank you Y/N. We just want you to be safe," he smiled at you. Your eyes looked past him and saw Crowley still giving you an odd look.
"I know, I appreciate that." You moved to kiss his cheek, mollifying him. He hummed gratefully at the feel of your lips on his cheek. You turned and began walking back home, your cloak billowing behind you.
The whole way home, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched or followed, your head snapping around to check behind you every now and again. Alas, the path would be empty, and you decided it was just your nerves.
At the top of the small hill just on the edge of the village proper, you froze. There was your cottage, safe and warm, a few hundred yards away. But you could also make a left, and go up past the old barns to meet the search party in the woods there. What could they say if you were already there?
So it was decided. You turned and began walking briskly along the old barns, the night wind blowing hard and causing the old wood to creek and moan. Just as you reached the end of the first, a large hand covered your mouth and pulled you back harshly against a warm body. You tried to scream, but it was muffled against the strong hand, a whisper in your ear...
"They told you to go home," the voice was low, gruff...and Dean's? You turned to face the attacker, and much to your surprise, he let you. Your mouth dropped open as you saw Dean watching you with equal shock.
"What if I had been the wolf?" his voice was full of anger as his eyes roved over you.
"Why are you following me?" you shot back, and his tense body relaxed as his eyes met yours. The green sparkled in the moonlight, and you unconsciously tried to memorize that image.
"I didn't believe you'd actually go home," his lips turned up at one side, smugness in each line of his face. Your retort was cut off by the sound of a crowd nearby, and Dean grabbed your hand, dragging you into the opening of the barn. You were both quiet as you listened closely, the sounds fading as the crowd went deeper into the woods.
Dean was close. Too close, actually. You were staring at his neck, your eyes roaming up to look at his face through your lashes. His eyes looked toward the barn entrance before they flickered down to yours. His pink lips parted, tongue against his teeth as he pondered the scene for a moment. A few seconds later he closed his eyes, decision made as he stepped away from you.
"You should go home," he grunted as he turned to walk back to the barn entrance.
"Wait, why aren't you going out with the search party?" your voice caused him to stop walking, his back muscles taut against his shirt.
"Wanted to make sure you were okay," his voice was low and you stepped towards him.
"Why?" He didn't answer.
"Dean, I know this is going to sound crazy," you breathed out as he turned to look at you. Your hand moved up to touch his chest, slowly moving up the cloth of his shirt. His breathing hitched as you stepped closer, hand traveling up to his shoulder. "I can't stop thinking about you," you tilted your head up, surprised by your own boldness. Dean's breathing was becoming shorter, almost ragged. "Have you thought about me?"
There was a long pause as he closed his eyes. You went to move your hand away, but he captured it in his as his eyes flew open. He took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Constantly."
You looked at him in shock before he leaned down and met your lips softly. He walked you backwards until you fell into the large, soft pile of hay, his arms breaking your fall. His warm lips melded with your own, until he slowly pushed his tongue against yours. Your tongues tangled together, his hands cupping your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he pushed down against you. His other hand moved to your hip, your body instinctively arching into his as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. You whimpered out his name when his hand moved down to the hem of your blouse. Your body tingled as his hands made contact with your lower belly, shivers running wild up and down your spine. He rubbed circles along your waistline as you tried to clench your legs together, the arousal becoming uncomfortable.
"Dean... wh-what are you doing?" you gasped as his fingers move down and rubbed the soft hair above your pussy. You couldn't help the involuntary movement of your hips as they moved into his fingers. You had never been touched like this before. It was wrong, and immoral, and...so good.
"Just want to touch you," he breathed out, nipping at your earlobe as his fingers trailed down through your slick folds, parting them before his thumb brushed the bundle of nerves at the top.
"Oh," you gasped as your hands shot to dig into his shoulders, his muscles rippling under your touch. You hadn't known anything could feel like this. He continued teasing you at your entrance, sliding his index finger into you, pushing his thumb down on your clit at the same time. Your body grew hot, cheeks flushing as he continued to kiss you, meeting your lips again harshly. He slowly thrusted his finger in and out, capturing your moans with his mouth.
You should stop him. You knew you should stop him.
Then he slowly pushed another finger in, your walls clenching around the feeling, and all thoughts of stopping him flew out of your mind. He thrust in and out, making a "come here" gesture and brushing a sweet spot that made your vision go blurry. A slow build began in your lower belly and you tried to calm your breathing. Your hands moved to cup his face, grabbing it hard and pushing your lips to his as he continued his thrusting.
"Dean..I'm going to..it's almost.." you blurted out, not fully understanding what you were saying as you finally felt the fire run through your entire body, your walls clenching around his fingers as your juices coated them. You threw your head back into the hay, eyes shut as you felt the tingling ripple through you. After you finally calmed down, Dean pulled out his fingers, still rubbing lightly until he pulled his hand out of your skirt.
He smiled at you, eyes gleaming before he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
"You're absolutely stunning, Y/N," he kissed you again and you arched into him, your body still buzzing, desperate for more. Dean plopped down next to you and you turned to face him, your smile just as wide as his as he brushed your hair behind your ear.
You laid like that for what seemed like a lifetime, kissing and making out again as you pushed your body into his.
Just as things began to heat up again, your hand moving hesitantly to the top of his pants, you both heard it. A bloodcurdling scream echoing through the night.
