#because cas is such a casual hand on your knee leaning yourself into them with your whole body sleeping in their lap when you're dr*nk

[musicloverxoxo7]

Car sex – feat. Jungkook

Coworker!Jungkook   x   fem!reader

Summary: You and Jungkook never got along at work. Until both of you have had a few drinks at a work party. Suddenly, you’re in his car, on his lap.

Themes/warnings: smut with a bit of plot, protected sex, teasing, bit of voyeurism, some subtle sub-dom vibes (y/n as the dom), nipple play, handjob, swear words, enemies(ish) to lovers

Wordcount: ca. 2.3k

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

Jungkook has always bothered you. You’ve been in competition at work with him for nearly three years now. It annoys the heck out of you that he’s so good at his job.

For tonight, the work party, you’ve vowed to put those differences aside. You’ll be nice and civil. For some reason, you end up sitting next to Jungkook, in a corner. His big thigh is pressed against yours because of a lack of space.

You eye that thigh. It looks muscular and strong, and you want to touch it. Badly. Mental face palm. One drink in. You’re not supposed to be simping over anyone yet. Most especially not Jeon Jungkook.

“I like your jeans”, you say to Jungkook.

He looks up from his beer, eyes wide.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Duh. I’m looking at you.”

“You could be talking to Mr. Kang. It would surprise me less if you complimented him.”

“Mr. Kang would never wear jeans. And he’s sitting on the other end of the table.”

Jungkook looks at his jeans, then grins up at you.

“Well, I can’t imagine you wearing jeans either. I only ever see you in business getup.”

You press your lips together.

“I do sometimes wear them, especially when my friends and I go out. I have this tight pair that has tears on the knees.”

“What color?”

“Dark grey.”

From the way Jungkook’s eyes glaze over for a moment, you’re pretty sure he’s imagining you in those jeans.

“They fit nicely, but I sure don’t fill them out like you do yours.”

You look at his huge thigh. You can’t believe you said that. To Jungkook of all people. You bite your lip.

“You like the way they fit?” You can hear the smug note in his voice. But not only that, he’s definitely flirting back. You dare look up. A smirk curls up the corners of his mouth.

“I do.”

Jungkook’s head turns to his left, then to the front before returning to you. He holds out his hand. You put yours in it.

“They feel very nice too. The jeans, of course”, he adds with a mischievous grin.

He guides your hand to hover over his thigh. You realize if you want to touch him, you’ll have to do it yourself. You take your hand out of his and run it down the length of his thigh. The muscles under there are no joke.

Jungkook spreads his thighs a little as you run your hand back up. You look at the person sitting next to him. There’s nearly half a meter of free bench space between them and him.

“Hey, why are you glued to me? You have plenty of space.”

“But I want to be glued to you.”

You’ve never encountered this Jungkook. Playful, flirty, a bit pouty. Normally, he’s very professional. Truth be told, though, he has been a bit more casual around you the past few months.

Looking at him innocently, you run your hand further up his thigh. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

Just before you reach his crotch, you take your hand away, giggling. You take a tiny sip from your drink. If you drink much more, you might do something even more unreasonable.

“You’re actually quite fun outside the office”, Jungkook says. You look at him. He’s leaning back against the backrest, his hands linked over his crotch. Your eyes linger a little too long on his hands.

“I’m not superman, y/n. You’ve been rubbing your half-naked thigh against mine the past half hour.”

“Whose fault is that”, you ask, nodding at the empty space on his other side. The cute grin returns.

“Mine. By choice.”

You shrug your shoulders and return to your drink, rubbing your thigh against his some more. You’re extremely glad the tables in this restaurant have tablecloths. Nobody can see anything weird going on.

Jungkook’s hand on your thigh tears you out of your thoughts.

“Please, stop moving as least.”

“Or?”

“You’re the boss.”

He shrugs his shoulders, but his intense eyes search your face.

“I’m the boss?”

Technically you are. At work. You’re not working now. Interesting.

You lean in a little and lower your voice.

“I will touch you again now. Don’t move or react. Keep talking to me.”

“How’s the recruitment for a new intern going?”

“Okay. We have a few potentially good ones. They’re all coming in next week for an interview.”

You run your hand up the inside of his thigh. His face remains surprisingly passive. His thigh tenses under your touch, though.

“That’s good. Tell me if you need help interviewing them.”

Your hand is nearly at his crotch. He swallows.

“Perhaps I’ll give you the preliminary round of interviews. The most suitable ones get to work with us for an afternoon and I’ll interview them then.”

You nudge Jungkook’s hand away. You’d love to look down, but that’d be suspicious. Instead, you opt to take another sip from your drink with your free hand.

“Works for me.” The last word is followed by a quick inhale as your hand strokes over the bulge in Jungkook’s pants.

“Good. I’ll give you the files on Monday.”

You stroke again, harder. He leans into your touch.

“Boss, may I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook lowers his voice.

“Meet me at my car. Black Mercedes.” He rattles off the plate number, before excusing himself to the bathroom.

You finish the last few sips of the drink and give him a head start. Also, less suspicious this way.

A few minutes later, you head out. It’s cool outside. In the poorly lit parking lot, it takes you a minute or two to spot Jungkook’s snazzy car. He’s leaning against the hood, tapping his foot and doesn’t notice you. You lean against the hood next to him.

“Nice car.”

“Can I kiss you?”

He looks shy, eager and very horny in the dim light. You take a few steps until you’re between his thighs.

“Yes, Jeon. Kiss me.”

His hand is gentle on your cheek. He pulls your face closer until your lips meet. His lips feel soft against yours.

You grip his thigh, your thumb nearly touching his crotch. He grumbles into the kiss. You take the chance to intertwine your tongue with his. He slides off the hood further until his crotch is pressed into your stomach.

You lean back and break the kiss.

“Not out here.”

Jungkook slides off his car. He opens the backseat door and gets in. You follow him. He’s sitting on the passenger’s side, the front seat pushed as far forward as possible. With the dark-tinted windows in the back, nobody will spot you like that. Clever.

You hike up your skirt and climb onto his lap. Jungkook closes the door for you. It’s much warmer in here. Perhaps he had the heating running while he waited.

His thighs feel powerful under you. Chest to chest like this, the position suddenly feels very intimate.

“Having second thoughts”, Jungkook asks.

“Not about doing this. More questioning myself how it went from us disliking each other three hours ago at work to sitting on your lap willingly.”

“I never disliked you, though. I’ve actually liked you for quite a while.”

Experimentally, you roll your hips forward. Jungkook’s hands on your hips tighten.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He’s eyeing your boobs now, but his hands remain on your hips.

“Go ahead, touch them.” He does. His eyes close. He looks blissful. Happy. You lean into his touch as he gently squeezes your boobs. “I can’t even pinpoint why I didn’t like you. You’re turning out to be quite nice.”

His grin grows wider. One of his hands tugs at the hem of your blouse until it comes free from your skirt. His big hand slides under the fabric up your stomach and to your bra. You keep rolling your hips.

His hand dips into your bra. He looks blissful at finally touching skin. His thumb and index finger close around your nipple and twist. You moan, pressing your hips down. Jungkook groans.

“Would you mind if I open my pants? They’re feeling a bit tight.”

“Keep going. I’ll do it.”

While Jungkook keeps playing with your nipple, you reach down and run your hand over the front of his pants. Jungkook lets out another groan. You undo the belt as he reaches to open your bra. He tugs the bra down as far as possible and latches his mouth onto your nipple. Your head drops back. For a moment, you forget what you were about to do.

He hasn’t forgotten. Jungkook takes your hand, which is gripping the waistband of his pants and places your fingers on the zipper. You fumble with it until you manage to pull it down. The way he is rolling your nipple with his tongue and sucking on it is making you forget how to think straight.

You run your hand over his boxers. You can feel a wet stain. He must have been leaking precum for a while. Suddenly a little clearer in the head, you push his boxers down. His hard dick feels nice in your hand. You run your hand up and down over it.

Jungkook momentarily unlatches from your nipple and moans. Your eyes meet. The way he looks at you, you’re pretty sure this is more than a one-night stand. Strangely, you don’t mind.

Jungkook blows on your nipple. You cringe away. He chuckles softly. You apply more pressure on his dick as you run your hand over it. The chuckling stops instantly.

“I’m not going to last much longer if you keep that up, y/n.”

“Fine.”

You don’t let go of him. You keep your hand running over his length while you fish out a condom from your handbag. Jungkook seems to enjoy you taking charge. He nods as you show him the condom and lets you put it on.

You push your skirt up further until it is bunched up around your hips and slide your underwear to the side. You raise your hips and run his tip over your folds. Jungkook watches, chewing on his lower lip.

Finally, you align him and push down slowly. All the nipple play has prepped you well and he slides in easily.

You meet his eyes when you have taken all of him.

“Shit.”

He looks about ready to cum.

You sit still and take his hands from your waist. You move them under your bunched up skirt so he can hold onto your hips. One of his hands goes to your butt and gives it a squeeze.

“I might have fantasized about doing that”, he admits with a bit of a guilty smile.

“Be my guest.”

You let him squeeze your butt a little more. It seems to bring him joy. You close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of being wanted. And of being filled in just the right way.

Your eyes fly open when one of his thumbs touches your clit. Your hands claw into his shirt. Quickly, your hips start moving with his ministrations. His breathing comes quicker as your movements become jerkier. You buck your hips forward into his skilled fingers.

It doesn’t take long until you tumble over the brink, squeezing repeatedly around him. Jungkook is biting his lip again. The veins in his neck stand out.

Once you’ve come down from your high, you take his hand and move it back to your hip. You lean forward until your lips are next to his ear. You kiss the spot directly under his earlobe. He shivers.

“How about you fuck me now, Jeon”, you whisper.

His reaction is instantaneous. His hips start moving upwards in hard, fast strokes. You hold onto him, face buried in his neck. He hits a spot that makes you feel like you want to go wild. You whine.

“You feel so good.”

His thrusts become sloppy, labored. You squeeze your walls around him. With a grunt, he cums.

You lean against him limply, feeling him pulsing in you.

The two of you stay like that for a few moments. Then you turn your head and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“That felt really good. Thank you, Jeon.”

“How about…” He looks at you with puppy eyes as if he hadn’t just fucked you near senseless. “Could you call me Jungkook outside of work? Or Kook? Whatever you like better.”

“There will be an outside of work?”

“If you want to.”

You look at him with your best “stern teacher” gaze for a moment. He looks like a deer caught in the headlight but seems to enjoy it at the same time. Good to know for future references.

You let the smile through onto your face.

“So, Kook, how far is your place from here?”

“10 minutes. You want to stay over? I live with two friends, but they won’t mind.”

You lift your hips and sit down on the seat beside him, tugging your skirt down again. Jungkook makes short work of the condom.

“I’m down for that. I have a meeting tomorrow morning, though.”

“On Saturday?”

Pants all zipped up, Jungkook gets out of the car and closes the door. You climb to the front passenger seat. Jungkook reappears at the driver’s side and gets in. He turns on the heating.

“Comes with being one of the bosses.”

“If you need a new shirt for that, you can borrow one from my friend. He’s not as broad in the shoulders as me”, he adds with a cocky smile.

“I might have to take you up on that.”

You place your hand on his muscular thigh. To touch him, not to rile him up.

“Bring us to your apartment, Kook. I haven’t even seen you shirtless yet.”

You lick your lips. Jungkook has you at the apartment in 7 minutes.

© musicloverxoxo7, 2022

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

[highchalowwis]

also. giving your dnd characters the love language physical touch is something that can be soo personal,

[beifongsss]

life-changing field trip [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x waterbender!reader (I’m a sl*t for the opposites attract trope I’m so sorry)

Requested?: Yes! I am once again combining two requests that I thought fit together, I’m sorry if that upsets the anons who requested :( The first anon request: “ooh maybe flirty/yn with zuko while in the ember island house or while sparring (or combine the two LMAO)” The second anon request: “Hi! Can we have more simp Zuko plz 🥺 How about that scene where the gAang looks for Aang, and Toph is like “I want to go with Zuko because I have not had a life changing field trip with him yet,” but instead of Toph it’s y/n and Zuko is all blushy and flustered because he has a crush on her 🥺”

Summary: You just want to test the waters and see if Zuko likes you back, after all, Sokka has been telling you that he does indeed like you. However, every time you try to get close to the prince, he either runs away or ignores you.

not as flirty as it could’ve been but i like how it turned out :) short & sweet

.masterlist.

~

Ember Island was beautiful.

You had all arrived there a few days ago, joining Katara after she had gone off to hunt down the man who had killed her mother. When you heard that she hadn’t ended his life, you had hugged her tightly and quietly told her that you were proud of how strong she was.

Aang had come up behind you soon after and you retreated from the two to give them a bit of privacy, crossing your arms as you stood next to Zuko. The two of you observing the scene that was unfolding in front of you, a smile twitching at the edge of your lips as they embraced.

“I’m glad the two of you came back safely,” you said quietly to the prince, never looking away from Aang and Katara. Zuko didn’t reply and shifted uncomfortably. “Especially you. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t look at your pretty face every day.”

You didn’t have to look at the prince to know that he now wore a scowl on his face, displeased at your words. In reality, Zuko was trying to hold back a blush at your words and instead of replying, he simply rolled his eyes and stormed off.

He burst into his family’s beach house, cheeks still ablaze. Toph and Sokka sat there, looking up at Zuko blankly before going back to their conversation. Slightly disappointed in their lack of response, he threw himself onto the nearby couch, releasing a loud groan. 

Toph paused her words for a second before continuing to speak. Sokka glanced at Zuko before focusing on Toph, knowing what he was trying to do. At the sound of his friends’ conversation, Zuko threw his arms over his head and groaned loudly once again. This time, their conversation stopped completely before Sokka turned to face him.

“Yes, Zuko? Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he replied gruffly. Toph couldn’t help but snort.

“Why is your heart beating so fast then, Sparky Pants?” Toph asked. “It can’t be ‘nothing’ if it’s got you all worked up.”

Zuko shot her a glare, forgetting that she couldn’t see it, before burying his face in his arms and mumbling something.

“What was that?” Sokka asked, a smirk on his face.

“(Y/N) was out there,” Zuko repeated, lifting his head up slightly. “Why was she the only one to greet us out there?”

“She wasn’t alone. Aang was with her,” Toph said. “Besides, she said something about making sure that you weren’t injured or anything.”

Zuko’s face went bright red once more. “Why couldn’t one of you be there with her?”

“Because your reaction every time she gets too close to you is hilarious,” Sokka replied. “Just tell her how you feel. The worst she can do is say no.”

The conversation died down as you entered the room with Aang and Katara trailing behind you. You aimed a smile at Zuko, heading over to the couch he was laying on. At the sight of you, Zuko scrambled up and all but sprinted away, a frown on his face as he muttered that if anyone needed him he would be in his room.

The smile melted off your face at Zuko’s actions. Katara noticed and came up behind you. “C’mon, help me with dinner?”

You nodded.

~ “Hey (Y/N/N)!”

You looked up when you felt Sokka sit next to you, drawing your attention from the two boys who were training in the courtyard. He followed your line of sight, smirking when his eyes landed on Zuko. “Enjoying the view?”

You hummed in response, still not facing the Water Tribe boy before replying. “I’m just studying them. It’s not every day you get to see firebenders just casually practicing their moves.”

“Whatever you say,” Sokka replied, leaning back on his elbows. “You don’t have to hide your feelings. He feels the same way y’know.”

The snort that left you was unintentional, but still drew Aang’s attention to you. He perked up immediately, his tiredness leaving his body in a second. “(Y/N/N)! How long have you been there?”

A blush covered your cheeks as Sokka nudged your side and snickered. “O-Oh, a few minutes. I was bored so I came out here to watch your lesson.”

“Great, can you do me a favor?” Aang asked, his eyes sparkling. You groaned internally knowing that you couldn’t deny the young Air Nomad anything. Silently, you nodded. “I promised Toph that I’d learn how to sandbend today but Zuko’s not done training. Can you please spar with him?”

“I’m not a firebender Aang,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Shouldn’t he be training with a firebender?”

“It’s fine, you don’t mind, do you Zuko?” Aang didn’t wait for Zuko’s response before continuing. “Besides, how often does he get to fight waterbenders? This is good practice!”

Before either of you could reply, Aang was already bouncing away. “Thanks (Y/N/N)!”

You stood up slowly and made your way to the middle of the makeshift arena, stretching as quickly as you could. Once you were done, you faced Zuko. “Ready?”

He nodded silently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he realized you didn’t have a water skin near you. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, you lunged at him. He barely had time to duck, dodging your fist but not your leg. His knee buckled under your kick and he ended up on his knees. He glanced up at you to see you smirking.

“Cute. I always thought that I’d end up on my knees for you, not the other way around,” you commented, stepping further away from him. You dropped to a defensive position as he got to his feet, his cheeks burning as he stared you down.

The two of you moved at the same time, Zuko throwing a blast of fire at you as he ran. You slid underneath it, quickly standing and aiming a kick at him. He dodged it gracefully before sending another blast at you. Just when he was about to ask why you weren’t using your bending, you reached out, focusing on the water in the air around you and forming a thin stream of water.

Zuko’s jaw dropped slightly, he had never seen a waterbender pull water out of thin air. He managed to dodge the water whip you had created and sent up a wall of fire, turning it into a wall of steam as he evaporated the whip. You didn’t stop there however and managed to turn the vapor into ice shards which you quickly dropped onto Zuko.

He rolled out of the way, sticking his leg out at the same time. He succeeded in toppling you, and you squeaked as you fell onto your back. He moved to attack and you reacted quickly, drawing water out from nearby plants and sending it at him full force. The fire he had ready was extinguished and he ended up soaked from your attack.

“Nice one (Y/N)!” you heard Sokka yell, reminding you that he was still present. You shot him a look as you stood up before turning to face a now shirtless Zuko. 

“Spirits,” you whispered, trying not to stare at him. “How is this fair? Put your shirt back on! Or don’t.”

“You’re the one who got me all wet,” Zuko replied, tossing his shirt to Sokka and walking back to the middle of the arena.

“If only it were the other way around,” you whispered jokingly, causing Sokka to cackle. You joined Zuko once more, having no time to prepare before he attacked. The fight continued on for a few more minutes, the two of you all sweaty and tired. You decided to try and attack with ice again, dodging a punch from Zuko as you accumulated water from around you.

You couldn’t hold yourself back from making another comment as Zuko pushed his hair back from his face. “You know, I can think of a few other activities that can make us equally sweaty, if you’re interested.”

Zuko stumbled at the same time you attacked, allowing some of the ice shards to nip at his skin. He hissed lightly as the cuts began to bleed, silently chastising himself for letting you distract him.

“Oh no. Zuko!” you yelped, running over to the boy. Your face showed nothing but worry as you knelt next to him, taking in his injuries. “Let me get you healed.”

Your face scrunched in concentration as you waved your hand, a globule of water forming around it. Both of you were silent as you healed his cuts, biting your lip as the guilt crawled up on you.

“Stop doing that,” Zuko said suddenly, drawing your attention to him. You looked at him confused before you noticed his gaze was on your lip. Blushing, you looked back down to his wounds. You tried to ignore his gaze as you moved your hands up to his chest, healing the wounds there. Zuko wondered if you could feel his heart racing.

“I’m really sorry Zuko,” you whispered, finally done healing his chest. You glanced up at his face, wincing when you noticed a shallow cut on his cheek. He closed his eyes as you reached up and cupped his cheek, unintentionally nuzzling his cheek into your palm. After a minute, you pulled away. “I’m done.”

Zuko opened his eyes, meeting yours and causing you to stop completely.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back, his voice raspy from speaking so lowly. “It didn’t hurt that much.”

For once you were at a loss for words, no witty or flirty comment on the tip of your tongue as you stared into Zuko’s eyes. Remembering Sokka’s earlier words, you stepped closer to Zuko. He swallowed harshly but didn’t move.

“Zuko,” you whispered, dropping your gaze down to his lips. “Can I-”

“Hey! Aang needs you, Zuko,” Sokka suddenly called out, making the two of you jump apart. You whirled around, eyes narrowed as they landed on the Water Tribe boy. Despite the smug smirk on his face, he couldn’t help but flinch at your reaction, knowing that you were going to bite his head off once the two of you were alone.

Zuko’s eyes widened and he all but sprinted into the house, only pausing when Sokka grabbed his arm. “Forgetting something?”

“Oh, r-right,” Zuko said, taking his shirt from Sokka. He glanced at you briefly one last time before running into the house.

“Sokka,” you growled, stomping over to him. “What was that for?”

“What was what?” Sokka asked innocently, walking backwards to get away from you. A wide grin spread across his face. “The real question is: what was happening between the two of you back there?”

You pushed Sokka up against the porch railing and quickly froze his hand to it. “It might’ve been a kiss if you hadn’t interrupted.”

You stormed away after that, an annoyed expression on your face as you made your way into the house. Behind you, Sokka was trying to get free. He was unsuccessful.

“(Y/N)! Don’t leave me here! I’m sorry! (Y/N)?”

~

Zuko had managed to avoid talking to you the rest of the day, even when the two of you had been paired up to fight the Melon Lord. Toph had enjoyed that a little too much.

He sat furthest away from you during dinner and went to bed immediately after, giving a mumbled goodnight to the group. Everyone turned to face you after he left, a questioning look in their eyes (well, except for Toph). You had simply glared at Sokka, who had then proceeded to explain what had happened earlier between the two of you. The group couldn’t help but laugh, only annoying you further as they teased you about it.

You had gone to bed early too.

Katara had woken you up early the next morning, panic on her face as she dragged you out into the courtyard. “Aang’s gone!”

That statement woke you up immediately, and you found yourself looking at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean gone?”

“Look,” Sokka said, pointing to the spot next to you. “He left his staff. That’s so strange.”

“Aang’s not in the house,” you heard Zuko say as he joined you all outside.

“Let’s check the beach,” you said, walking away before you finished your sentence. The six of you trekked down to the beach, perking up slightly when you noticed Aang’s footprints. You followed them all the way to the edge of the water where they suddenly disappeared. “The trail ends here.”

“So he went for a midnight swim and never came back?” Suki asked skeptically.

"Maybe he was captured,” Katara said worriedly.

“I don’t think so,” Sokka muttered, looking at the footprints. “There’s no sign of a struggle.”

“I bet he ran away,” Toph said, her voice a little dull.

“No way, he wouldn’t leave behind Appa or his glider,” you countered.

“Then what do you think happened to him, oh sleuthy one?” Toph snarked back.

“It's pretty obvious,” Sokka suddenly said. “Aang mysteriously disappears before an important battle? He's definitely on a Spirit World journey”

“But if he was, wouldn't his body still be here?” Zuko asked.

Sokka bowed his head down in slight embarrassment. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that.”

“Then he's got to be somewhere on Ember Island,” Katara said. “Let's split up and look for him.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately grabbed onto Zuko’s arm, hugging it tightly. “I’m going with Zuko!”

“W-What?” Zuko stuttered, a bright blush coating his cheeks as he tried to ignore the fact that you were hugging his arm. Everyone else stared at you knowingly.

“What?!” you asked. “Everyone else went on a life-changing field trip with Zuko. Now it's my turn.”

“Try not to make it too life-changing,” Sokka muttered as he walked past you, earning a snicker from Suki and Toph. Sokka and Suki left on Appa and Katara and Toph headed into town to see if they could find him there. You kept holding on to Zuko’s arm as the two of you walked further along the beach. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally spoke up.

“Hey pretty boy, why have you been avoiding me?”

Zuko’s eyes widened and he turned to you. “W-What did you just call me?”

“Pretty boy,” you chirped, a smile on your face as you looked up at him. “Because y’know, you’re probably the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Zuko cleared his throat and dragged his gaze away from you. His eyes didn’t leave the water as you kept walking side-by-side.

“So,” you nudged him softly, sliding one hand down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Zuko replied quickly, shaking you off his arm as he proceeded to walk a bit in front of you. You kept quiet as you caught up to him, biting your lip as you thought about the boy next to you.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that,” Zuko snapped, stealing a glance at you.

“Why?” you asked, releasing your lip. “Does it turn you on?”

“What?! N-No!” Zuko exclaimed. A faint trail of steam escaped his nose, letting you know that he was flustered.

“Relax, Zuko,” you chuckled. “I’m joking. Now, why have you been avoiding me?”

“We should be looking for Aang.”

“You and I both know that Aang isn’t here,” you replied, looking out at the vast ocean. “He’s probably doing some Avatar-related thing right now so why don’t you just tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you!”

“Yes you have! Ever since yesterday. Ever since I-” you cut yourself off, a blush appearing on your face as you thought about the almost-kiss between the two of you. Zuko swallowed nervously, also thinking about what had happened between the two of you.

“Ever since you almost kissed me,” Zuko filled in for you, his head hanging low. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Because you didn’t want to kiss me?” you asked, slightly upset. “You could’ve just said so, it doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Because I did want to kiss you,” Zuko replied almost immediately. The two of you came to a stop. “I’ve been avoiding you because I want to kiss you and be with you but I can’t.”

“Why?” you asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“I’ve done so many things,” Zuko whispered. “So many bad things. To Aang, to Katara, to you. I’m from the Fire Nation; I don’t deserve to be with someone like you.”

“That’s absurd,” you whispered back. “Your past doesn’t define you Zuko. You chose to make the right decision and sure, it took you a while but you realized that you were doing more harm than good. You changed, that’s what matters. You made the right choice even though you knew it could mean trouble for you and that’s why I like you.”

Zuko finally looked up at your words, his eyes full of wonder as he looked at you. A small smile appeared on his lips at your words and he found himself approaching you slowly. “Do you?”

You nodded softly.

“Zuko?” you asked quietly. “Hypothetically, if I had gotten the chance to ask if I could kiss you yesterday, what would you have said?”

“I- Hypothetically, I would’ve said yes,” Zuko whispered back. Feeling bold, you walked up to the prince and wrapped your arm around his neck.

“Do you trust me, Zuko?” you breathed, your lips inches away from his. You felt your heart speed up as his golden eyes met yours. Silently, he nodded. You wasted no time as you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. He stumbled back slightly, his back hitting the cliff that surrounded the beach as he grabbed onto your waist.

Almost immediately, he turned around, kissing you roughly and pressing you up against the wall as his body covered yours. Your hands tangled in his soft hair, your heart racing impossibly fast as you realized that you were actually kissing Zuko. You pulled away first, giving him a soft smile as you stared at him. “I take it you like me too?”

Zuko chuckled before nodding. “I do.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one gentle as you enjoyed each other’s presence. The two of you were so distracted that you didn’t hear Appa land on the beach a few yards from you.

“Hey! I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure Aang isn’t in either of your mouths.”

The two of you pulled away from each other to see Sokka looking at you with a wide smirk. Suki sat behind him, giving both of you a suggestive look. Zuko helped you climb onto Appa before joining you and sitting next to you.

“Yip yip,” Sokka said before he turned to you. “So (Y/N), how was that field trip of yours?”

You turned looked at Zuko beore intertwining your hands, making him blush and earning a smile from Suki and Sokka.

“Best field trip ever.”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​, @purifiedbottledwater, @butterflycore​

[high-lady-of-earth]

A Strained Solstice (in which Mor speaks without thinking)

Hi!!!! This is a one shot requested by @mitchloveswriting​ 

I combined it with an anonymous request for fluffy Az x Reader. At this time, I don’t write anything 18+ but maybe in the future!!

Thanks for the requests and I hope you like it<3333

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: “az reader where everyone keeps asking when he and elain are getting togethr but reader gets sad bc theyve secretly been a thing for years pls?”

“Happy birthday, Feyre!” Everyone yelled at the same time.

It was a picture perfect moment. Feyre blew out the candles on her ridiculously elaborate birthday cake (courtesy of Rhysand, of course) as the Inner Circle looked on. Rhys stood next to his wife, Nyx in his arms, as he smiled at her. To their right, was Nesta and Cassian, mated and glowing as they held hands and looked at Feyre with love. You stood to Feyre’s left, with Amren and Varian next to you. Standing opposite of your High Lord and Lady at the table was Mor and Elain, the former with tears in her eyes and the latter with a broad, beautiful smile.

You instinctively knew that Azriel stood by the door, forever sticking to the shadows. You could feel his presence under your skin, almost like a sentient force that pulled you towards him with every fiber of your being. Your situation with the shadowsinger was sort of complicated, you had feelings for him and he reciprocated, leading to a few steamy makeout sessions during the year that you had been in the Night Court, but he had never deepened it. Never mind the fact that you wanted him to. You yearned for him to come to your side and be yours publicly, but you were too afraid to tell him.

The cake magically cut itself and you were handed a small slice of cake, the perfect size that you wanted. You silently thanked the House for knowing you so well. This year, Rhys splurged on Feyre’s birthday cake. It tasted amazing. The delicacy melted on your tongue and the frosting was so sweet that you moaned in delight.

“The cake must be phenomenal.” Said a voice behind you.

You whirled around to find Azriel casually leaning against the wall. You blushed as you realized what sound you had just made.

“It is pretty good.” You replied, a little embarrassed that Azriel had heard you. He walked towards you and you held your breath as his hand moved toward your face. The shadows that always surrounded him began to disappear a little.

“You’ve got some frosting on your cheek.” Azriel said softly as his thumb brushed against your face.

You stilled as you felt his callused finger linger a few more seconds than was necessary. Then, you watched his thumb move towards his mouth and kept staring as his tongue darted out and licked the frosting that had been on your cheek. You felt heat begin spread throughout your body as you saw your desire mirrored in Azriel’s eyes.

“Azriel! Do you want some cake?” Cassian yelled.

The moment was over as Azriel’s shadows returned and you saw the usual mask of ice harden his features.

“I’m fine, Cas. I stole a bit of Y/n’s.” Azriel replied to Cassian.

You felt your hope die a little as Azriel so casually dismissed the moment you two just shared. The all-too-familiar disappointment rushed back in and you once again felt the longing for what your friends had. Ever since you had been rescued from Hybern’s prison by the Inner Circle, your heart longed to find its mate.

“I would like to open presents now. Rhysand, please be a dear and bring them to the family room.” Amren announced. You knew the petite female was itching to get her hands on her new jewels.

You didn’t wait for Azriel as you walked into the family room and took a seat on the couch next to Mor. She looked so elegant in a purple gown and matching amethyst jewelry. You probably paled in comparison in your pink dress that seemed to be loose in too many places. Your worries melted away as Rhys brought in the solstice presents.

Of course, Amren opened her gifts first, receiving a majority of jewelry. You had given her a diadem of rubies to match the necklace Varian had given her years ago that she loved. Next, Rhys and Feyre opened the gifts for themselves and Nyx. It was no surprise that they received a lot of baby stuff, with your contribution being a magical baby rocker. Cassian and Nesta opened their gifts, which was made up of weapons and tactical gear. Mor got a lot of dresses and clothing while Varian received miscellaneous items. You gave Elain gardening stuff, like most people. Your gifts consisted of different things, from books to clothing to a painting from Feyre.

Lastly, it was Azriel’s turn to open his gifts. He received pretty much the same thing as always from everyone— weapons. You had his gift in your hand because you wanted to give it to him personally. Azriel was opening Elain’s gift when you heard Mor speak up next to you.

“When are you two going to get together? You’ve both been beating around the bush for years and I think I speak for everyone when I say put an end to our misery.” Mor said to Azriel and Elain.

Both Azriel and Elain blushed and you felt tears come to your eyes. The Inner Circle seemed to have no idea how much you cared for Azriel. Or maybe you were a fool, and you couldn’t see that he liked Elain. That would certainly explain why Azriel had never made the two of you official. You were just something to distract him from Elain, who he was forbidden to touch so that they could keep the alliance with Lucien and therefore Jurian and Vassa. The tears were threatening to spill over so you abruptly got up and muttered something about getting more wine as you made your way to the dining room.

You had just reached the table when you realized you still had Azriel’s gift in your hand. You set it down and asked the House for a wine glass, which appeared in your hand. You filled it with wine from the bottle on the table and sat down to wipe the tears from your face. You played back what had just happened in your mind, noting how Elain looked at Azriel like he was her savior. You were so deep into your thoughts that you didn’t notice someone softly sitting next to you.

“Is everything alright, Y/n?” Cassian asked you. He put a hand on your shoulder and looked at your face with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Cas. It’s just another migraine.” You lied. He could tell you weren’t telling the truth.

“Is it because of what Mor said? You know she says stuff out of turn sometimes.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated. You held the wine glass tightly in your hand. Cassian sighed and got up, presumably to go back to the others.

“You know, Az is fool. You’re so much better than the rest of us. Even Elain left Feyre to take on the responsibility of feeding their entire family. But you, your kindness has no boundaries, even after what you went through with Hybern.” Cassian said.

“Will you tell them I had a migraine and went home?” You asked. He nodded and went to join the rest of the Inner Circle.

You put on your coat and and the House put your presents in a bag for you as you stepped into your slippers. Before you had the time to start descending the ten thousand stairs to your apartment in the city, Azriel appeared. He walked towards you, his presence dominating the room.

“Where are you going?” He asked. Azriel kept walking towards you, and he seemed a little angry. You had no idea why he thought he had the right to be angry and you weren’t going to be scared by his demeanor. You refused to yield a step and stood nose-to-nose with Azriel as he stopped in front of you.

“I had a migraine and I’m going home to rest.” You stated. Azriel narrowed his eyes, but you weren’t cowed.

“You haven’t had migraines in a month. I would know.” He said. You pricked at his last sentence.

“Would you really know? You seemed to be too focused on Elain to notice anything.” You accused. Azriel took a step back a laughed. He actually laughed.

“So that’s what this is about? You’re jealous of Elain because of what Mor said. Elain has a mate.” He said incredulously.

“That doesn’t seem to stop her.” You muttered as you finally looked away from him. Azriel lifted his hand to your chin and brought your face to look at his once more. He brushed a lone strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Let me fly you home, Y/n.” He said.

What did that mean? Did he want you? Was he just trying to apologize? Azriel saw your hesitation and quickly said, “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

You nodded and he picked you up, bridal style. Azriel’s arms lay under your knees and back and you silently reveled in the feeling of his muscles. His shadows closed around the two of you and you barely felt it when he took off into the air. You buried your face into Azriel’s chest. You never liked flying, but it was better than the alternative of descending ten thousand stairs and walking to your apartment. You felt Azriel’s slight stubble on your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I never licked the frosting off my thumb from Elain’s cheek, Y/n.” He murmured in your ear. If the words themselves didn’t make you curl your toes in excitement, then his husky tone did. Azriel’s voice caressed you as you blushed. You stayed there like that, in Azriel’s arms until you were both out of range of the House and he winnowed into the cozy living room of your apartment.

He set you down and you took a couple moments to orient yourself properly. Winnowing, no matter how many times you did it, always made you dizzy. You set the bag containing your presents on your coffee table and noticed Azriel’s present on top. You reached into the bag and took it out.

“I got a present for you.” You said.

“I have one for you too. I wanted to give it to you in private.” He replied.

You handed him the wrapped parcel in your hands. Azriel unwrapped his present and looked at you questioningly.

“The others don’t notice the shadows under your eyes. I know you aren’t sleeping, Az. It’s a tea I made. It’ll help you sleep.” You said. Azriel took a deep breath.

“How did you know?” He asked. You moved closer to him and put your palm on his cheek.

“I can see through the mask you put up for the others. I can see the purple smudges under your eyes.” You replied. Azriel engulfed you in a big embrace.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t given you my all, Y/n. I’m dealing with a lot of stuff, but I’d like to revisit us after we deal with the human queens.” He said.

You nodded and Azriel kissed your cheek. He pulled out a little package from his pocket and put it into your hand. You opened it and drew in a breath when you saw a key nestled in a velvet box.

“I have a house outside of Velaris. Only Rhys knows about it. Sometimes the city is a little much and I need to escape it and I wanted you to be able to have somewhere as well.” He said sheepishly. This time, you hugged Azriel and gave him a broad smile.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

[chemicalvelocity]

Happy Friday! I need therapy

So I wrote a fic for Fingers in my mouth Friday! Hope Y'all enjoy it.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings apply

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Word Count: 3545

Read Below the Cut:

Dean's not a creep. He's not, he swears. It's just that he's... noticing things now that he's not on high alert for monsters anymore.

He remembers the first evidence of Castiel he'd ever seen, an angry burn scar of a handprint. He thought it was a demon's for christ's sake. He hadn't paid mind at the time to the fact that it took up his entire deltoid.

Now, however, he was absently tracing its outline after a shower, staring more through the mirror than at it while recalling the events of breakfast. Jack had playfully started the comparing hand sizes game that seems to entertain kids so much.

Dean hadn't even put any thought into it until it turned into everyone else doing it to humor him; which culminated in Dean foolishly slapping his palm to Cas's and then realizing just how much smaller his hand was.

Naturally, he'd joked it off and found his way out of the conversation, acting like it wasn't a bruise to his ego. He had thousand-yard stared his way through a shower, and now, here he was.

He carefully fitted his hand over the scar tissue on his shoulder, and yep, there it was, a literal physical reminder of Cas's massive hands. He got over himself as quickly as he could and threw on his clothes before going to the garage to wash Baby.

*

That turned out to be a bad idea, as many of Dean's ideas do. Cas was sat in a lawn chair with the tunnel doors cracked, rolling a joint. Dean had pointedly ignored him, turning to rinse the car until Cas spoke up.

"Would you like some?" He asked, looking over at Dean with a twist of his slender fingers as his tongue darted out to wet the rolling paper's adhesive. Dean swallowed.

"Y'know that shit's bad for you, right?" Dean grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. He opened a drawer to pull out sponges and brushes, tossing them into nearby buckets and setting them  down near Baby's rear fender

"I think you know that's not true." Castiel hummed, placing the fresh joint between his lips, bringing the flame of his zippo to the end, and inhaling deeply.

"Whatever, Stoney baloney... Don't you usually smoke out on the roof, anyway?" Dean asked, filling up the first bucket with hot water and suds, the second with only cold water.

"It's raining," Cas replied, voice husky from the strain of holding in a hit. "Frankly, the Bunker is well ventilated enough that I could smoke in the library... where we still keep ashtrays on the table, but I figured I'd come in here to keep it away from Jack." He mused, blowing his lungful of smoke out the door.

"Right... Gotta say Cas, I'm sure second-hand smoke doesn't affect 20-year-old Nephilim toddlers." Dean chuckled, saturating the sponge in the first bucket and slung the soap across the Impala's roof, leaning up to scrub away the dust and bugs that come from hauling her back and forth across the Midwest.

"No, but I don't want to influence him, he's very impressionable, you know." Cas flicked the collecting ash into a labelless beer bottle that sat discarded in his chair's cupholder.

"I wonder where he could've gotten that from. Claire came to visit for one weekend and all of a sudden you're Bob Marley!" Dean teased, and Cas narrowed his eyes at him.

"I am not a musician, nor a Rastafarian, Dean. Claire simply pointed out that I think too much, and that cannabis is known to help." He drew in a deep hit and outstretched his arm to Dean, the cigarette balanced between two fingers. Smoke twirled lazily into the air around him.

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes before coming over to pluck the smoke from Cas's possession. Cas watched him appraisingly as he took a drag, then another, and Dean almost choked when Cas's lips parted for the stream of smoke to travel neatly into his nostrils.

Okay, so Claire taught him how to french inhale. Dean idly wondered if he knew what ghosting was, before passing it back and returning to his task, pretending like his lungs didn't burn from the comparative lack of practice.

*

Dean hit the wall hard, his breath punched out of him with a grunt. He scrambled to his knees and whipped his head around to see Sam in a similar position nearby. Cas was still standing though now surrounded by three, very pissed-off demons, one of which had Dean's angel blade. Dean attempted to gather himself and help out, but his vision went sideways and he steadied himself against a table, opting to call out the angel's name, stupidly.

Cas had slashed the leg of the demon to his right and grappled the one to his left. As the first one went down, his palm met its forehead and smote it out of its meatsuit. The middle one charged him, but he spun the demon in his grip, shielding himself by launching his captive forward onto the blade, then seizing the neck of the remainder, holding him in place firmly. He turned to the bewildered hunters casually.

"Did you need him for anything else?" Dean bit down on his tongue in a failed attempt to reintroduce moisture to his mouth.

"N-No, Cas I think we're good, knock yourself out..." he rasped as Castiel tightened his grip on the demon's throat, and light burned out from under its skin. Sam and Dean had picked themselves up off the floor by now and made their way to the middle of the room.

"Good work, buddy," Dean panted as Cas piled up the bodies at his feet, and wiped blood away on his jeans. "Guess you hardly need us."

"Of course I do, You made an excellent distraction." Cas smiled and while Dean was sure it was a genuine statement, definitely felt the hit to his pride. Maybe he was just getting too old for this shit. Sam snorted at something and walked out. Dean didn't know what, but he didn't want to hit him any less for it.

*

"Hey, Cas, I have a bit of a concussion from the hunt the other night. Can you work a little magic?" Sam rubbed at his eyes, setting his laptop aside. Dean raised his eyebrows from his seat, taking a sip of beer. He wouldn't have asked Cas to expend any healing energy on himself, but Cas didn't protest. Instead, he hardly looked up from his book and snapped his fingers. Sam visibly relaxed. Dean did not.

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I'm gonna go grab some grub, probably just pick up a pizza and some beers or something." Sam held his hand out for the impala keys. Dean tossed them to him with half a mind.

When Sam was gone, he was still staring at Cas in confusion.

"Can I help you with something too, Dean?" He quirked an eyebrow over his book. Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nope, no, I'm okay, just a few scrapes. Can't have you wasting your mojo on that... I was just wondering why you didn't, uh, y'know," He tapped two fingers to his forehead and Cas's eyes turned up in a half-smile.

"I don't need to do that to heal."

"Oh... okay." He'd already asked a weird question, probably best not to pry into why Cas always touched him to heal.  He tipped back the rest of his beer and fumbled around for an excuse of some sort to break the silence, but Cas stood first.

"I'm going to go find Jack. Let me know when Sam's back with dinner." He passed Dean with a  warm squeeze to his shoulder. Dean watched him go, then realized just how long it's been since he's been laid. Too fucking long, apparently.

*

Yeah, no. Way too long. Dean's half-convinced Cas is fucking with him, too. His suspicion stemmed from Cas's sudden love of eating every meal with them and requesting things like wings or fries.

"Morning sunshine, Sam and Jack already left to go check out a case. I made pan...cakes..." Dean's sentence fell flat when his eyes met Cas entering in a half-buttoned-up shirt. His long fingers slipped buttons into place as he yawned his greeting and trudged his way to the coffee maker.

Dean was a little concerned that he noticed Cas's hands before he noticed the toned and tanned chest underneath the shirt. He ran a hand down his face and moved to pour more coffee. Cas passed over the pot and turned to the stack of pancakes, tossing two onto a plate and proceeding to destroy them with fruit and whipped cream.

"When was the last time we cleaned our firearms?" Cas asked, swirling his finger through the toppings of his breakfast before popping it in his mouth. Dean set his mug down, a little too hard. Cas gave him a look.

"Are you fucking with me?" Dean tried not to sound petulant, but he can't catch a single break.  Cas bit his lower lip, and then cleared his throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Was his response, innocent and hid behind a sip of coffee. Dean pursed his lips.

"You- you don't?" Dean was momentarily taken aback. Was he so unbelievably tense that he'd imagined the whole problem?-

"No, Dean, you've been staring at my hands all week, I have no idea what you're talking about." he deadpanned.

Dean's face burned. He didn't think he was being obvious about it or anything. Cas was observant, though.

"At first I thought you were just insecure about your hand size, but surely you'd have gotten over that in a day. Then I did some research and decided to... Encourage you." He continued casually as if Dean wasn't praying for the earth to swallow him whole.

"I uh, appreciate that, Cas... Um, what conclusions exactly did you draw?" Dean squeaked out because frankly he still wasn't sure what was going on here.

"You may have a sexual preference for hands, which makes sense, given your previous statements regarding slapping." Cas hummed into his coffee and, yeah okay Dean needed to end this conversation before he melted from shame.

"Okay, right, got it, I'll stop staring." He managed, grabbing his mug and turning to leave before Cas grabbed his arm. He glanced down at the sudden warmth around his wrist, then up to meet Cas's cobalt gaze.

"I never told you to stop," Cas said calmly, loosening his grip to slip his fingers into Dean's hand and pull him closer. "Dean, I researched it." His expression was earnest, and Dean shuddered involuntarily.

"Listen, man, It's not like, a thing... It's just, well, you have nice hands, and you kinda marked me... with your very large hand." Dean still wanted to disappear, but Cas didn't seem too bothered.

"I wanted to tell you, I touch you when I heal because I like the excuse to," Cas murmured, raising his other hand to cup Dean's jaw. Dean's breath hitched. "I enjoy the warmth. Everything else is always so cold." Cas whispered, running his thumb lightly across Dean's bottom lip. Dean couldn't stop the noise he made as it caught on his nail.

Cas's pupils grew wide, and he curiously pushed his thumb deeper. Dean closed his lips over it and sucked gently, noting the faint taste of the strawberries Cas had put on his pancakes. Dean pulled back before he embarrassed himself any further.

"Uh," Dean's brain replied dumbly. "Can I kiss you?" His dick helped with that one.

"I just put my thumb in your mouth and you feel the need to ask-" Cas's snark was cut short by Dean pressing him up against the counter and slotting their lips together. Cas gripped the front of Dean's shirt and kissed him back like a man dying of thirst. This is why Dean's thought process is filled with question marks when Cas puts a hand firmly on his chest and pulls back to speak.

"I don't think the kitchen is the best place for this." He rumbled into their shared space. Dean perked back up when he realized the proposition.

"Did you wanna finish your breakfast first? I can't guarantee we'll be back in here any time soon." Dean wiggled his eyebrows at the angel.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Dean," Cas smiled. "I'd love to. While I do I think you probably want to go get ready." Cas wiped the look off Dean's face when he reeled him back in for another kiss.

"O-oh, yeah, okay. Meet you in my room in ten." And then he was speedwalking out of the kitchen.

*

Dean turned off the shower after a very thorough cleaning and wrapped his towel around his waist, hurrying back down the hallway to his room. Cas was sitting on the bed patiently.

"Hello, Dean." He smiled, reaching up to tug off his tie. Dean's throat went dry again.

"Hi," Dean was clutching his towel like a lifeline. Cas observed him fondly as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Did you want me to put something on? Or..."

Cas just chuckled and beckoned him closer. Dean stood between his legs and his heart dropped out of his ass when Cas took his hands and pulled gently, signaling for Dean to kneel. He lowered himself slowly to his knees and looked up at Cas, expectant, and not at all freaking out on the inside. Cas leaned in to kiss him again. That, he could work with.

"I want you to put your hands on my knees, and you can't move them unless I say so, is that alright?" Castiel spoke when they parted.

Oh.

Apparently, hand kink isn't the only thing Cas researched. Dean felt the command go straight to his dick. He nodded hastily, but Cas said nothing, only waited, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes, Cas." He breathed, and Cas grinned and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it into Dean's desk chair.

"Good. Get comfortable." Dean sat back on his heels and placed his hands on top of Cas's thighs. Cas placed both of his hands on Dean's shoulders, rubbing small circles in the muscle before he slid them upwards to massage the back of Dean's neck. When Dean was staring up at him with hooded eyes and humming his appreciation, Castiel's patience grew thin.

Cas held the back of Dean's neck steady, tracing the fingers of his right hand down Dean's temple and across his lips. This time, Dean didn't have any reservations about darting his tongue out to meet them. Cas inhaled deeply through his nose and pushed his index and middle fingers into Dean's mouth.

Dean sighed and let himself go, he lapped at Cas's fingers like he was starving. He held Cas's heated gaze and felt his dick wake back up, twitching underneath his towel.

"So good, you're such a good boy for me, Dean." Cas praised. Dean thought he might pass out. The feeling of Cas inside him, even if it was just his fingers sliding along his tongue was heady. He looked down and took notice of the increasing tightness of Cas's pants. Cas slid his fingers out and leaned back on his elbows. Dean panted, his fingers gripping Cas's thighs with the effort of keeping still.

"Would you like something else, Dean?" Cas smirked down at him. "All you have to do is ask." Dean screwed his eyes shut and swallowed his pride.

"I want," He let out a shuddering breath as Cas ran a hand through his hair. "I want to suck you off."

"You can move your hands now." Cas hummed and leaned his head back. Dean practically sprung forward, ignoring the ache in his calves as he latched his mouth onto one of the angel's nipples. His hands made quick work of Cas's belt and fly, tugging firmly at his pockets to get them off. When Cas's flushed erection came free, Dean leaned forward to mouth at the head and cup his balls.

Cas wove a hand into Dean's hair and pulled. Dean moaned around the cock in his mouth, drawing a deep groan from Cas in response. Dean drank in the sound and relaxed his jaw to swallow him down further, bobbing his head rapidly.

"Dean." Cas sounded wrecked, and Dean's head snapped up to attention.

"Yeah?"  He asked, breath heaving as he leaned up to his eye level.

"May I-"

"Anything, Angel, seriously." He pressed his lips to the heated flesh under Cas's jaw, sucking hard and nipping gently.

"I want to fuck you." Cas gasped, leaning into Dean's mouth. Dean nodded and climbed to his feet to get the lube from his nightstand. Cas sat up and wrenched Dean's towel away. His eyes roved Dean's body appreciatively before pulling him down on the bed. "Lie down on your front, please." He purred, and Dean was on his elbows in an instant, handing back the lubrication.

Cas caressed the contours of Dean's back reverently, before gingerly parting Dean's cheeks and licking a broad stripe across his hole. Dean felt his whole body twitch.

"Fuck, C-Cas..." Dean whined out, completely sideswiped by Cas's impromptu rimjob. He helplessly thrust his hips back against Cas's grip. Castiel reeled back a single hand and gave Dean's ass a hard smack. Dean dropped his face into his pillow with a keen from the back of his throat.

"Sit still, Dean. Let me take care of you." He growled, mouthing kisses from the base of Dean's spine to the cleft of his ass again. He laved his tongue in tantalizing circles, fucking it in and out nimbly and drawing a chorus of breathy sounds from the hunter.

"Please, Sweetheart... I need you... Need you inside me, c'mon." Dean whimpered, writhing under the sensation of Cas's hot breath and slick tongue. Cas finally gave in and sat up, reclaiming the bottle of lube to squeeze a sizeable portion directly onto Dean's entrance. Dean shivered from the sudden cold, only to cry out again when Cas's strong index finger slid in with very little resistance.

Cas continued to pepper Dean's shaking shoulders with wet kisses as he thrust his finger in, curling it hard against Dean's prostate and savoring the faint sound of Dean nearly wailing into his pillow. He slid in a second finger and scissored them back and forth to make way for a third. At this point, Dean had lifted his head and turned towards Cas with pleading eyes. Cas leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"You're doing so well, Dean... Are you ready?" Cas mumbled into Dean's mouth.

"Yeah, Christ... Yes, Cas, please." Dean managed to get his knees under himself and Cas slicked himself up, working the head of his cock into Dean's fluttering hole. He clutched at Dean's hips and slowly rocked himself in deeper. "Fuck!" Dean yelped, trying to meet Cas's thrusts to no avail.

"Relax, my love." Cas moaned, rolling his hips into Dean, captivated by the catch of skin around him. "Do you want to move?" He asked, and released his iron hold on Dean's waist with a chuckle when Dean nodded eagerly. Dean thrust back against Cas with abandon. A surprised gasp was drawn from both of them as Cas sped up his thrusts to match. Dean was going to come if Cas didn't slow down, so he gathered his thoughts enough to speak up.

"Cas, wait. Can I flip?" He panted, and Cas's onslaught came to a stop.

"Of course, Dean." He pulled out carefully and leaned away for Dean to position himself on his back. Castiel admired the flush that spread down Dean's neck and covered most of his chest. He leaned forward to suck dark hickeys into Dean's collarbone to contrast. Dean reached down to guide Cas back inside, sighing amorously when he was seated again.

Cas rocked in and out once more with renewed enthusiasm. He snapped his hips forward, causing Dean to arch up off the bed with a shout. Stars burst behind his eyelids as Cas lifted Dean's legs to wrap around his waist and repeated contact his prostate shot sparks through his bloodstream.

"Ah-fuck, Cas, Baby... I'm gonna come. Are you almost there?" Dean gasped and reached up to pull Cas down for a vehement kiss when he grunted his confirmation. Dean felt the heat of his release coil deep in his gut and rocked up into Cas with a fervor, moaning heavily into Cas's mouth with each collision of their hips.

Then the tension in Dean's core snapped, and he was coming without so much as a moment's attention to his dick, clinging to Cas's shoulders with a fucked out whine. Cas kept going and Dean's synapses felt like they were being deep-fried as Castiel's stuttering hips drove him in deeply one, two then a final time as he emptied himself into Dean with a low groan. He then pulled out slowly and rolled off a now depleted Dean to spoon him.

"I think I'm in love with you." Dean wheezed, and Castiel grinned into his hair.

"I'm glad I could help you come to that epiphany. I love you too, Dean."

[nickelkeep]

Text Me in the Morning

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: none! Written For: Storytime! On Ao3

Dean stirred under the blanket. Something was wrong. He reached out to the other side of the bed, grumbling as he found it lacking a person. He reluctantly opened his eyes and looked at the empty spot. "Cas?" Dean lifted his head and looked around the room, slowly sitting up to get a better look at his bedroom. "Sunshine?"

He rubbed at his eyes, letting them readjust. He looked down at Cas' side of the bed and found a note lying on his pillow.

Dean- I'm needed in Heaven. I shouldn't be more than a day or two. I'll see you soon. -Cas

Dean frowned. He had hoped for the sake of whatever angel summoned Cas, that the issue was crucial. It had been weeks since Cas and Dean had started sharing a bed. That had moved to sharing soft touches. And one fateful night after a bad nightmare, the dam between them had finally broken.

Now that he had finally gotten used to it, waking up without Cas next to him felt almost like the bad dream that brought them together.

Dean climbed out of bed and grabbed his robe. If it was going to be a miserable morning, the least he could do was get his coffee fix and try and make the best of it.

Sam was standing at the counter as he entered the kitchen, throwing impossibly green things into the blender. He stopped when Dean started the coffee machine and looked over, a smirk on his face. "Morning, Dean."

"Nothing good about waking up ass-crack of dawn early. You're a freak of nature." Dean watched the wince on Sam's face. "Sorry. Just need my caffeine."

"And it has nothing to do with Cas leaving this morning?" Sam turned on the blender to keep Dean from answering. He pulsed it several times, stopping long enough for Dean to start to answer before turning it back on again. "Sorry about that. Just needed to make sure this is all mixed." He grabbed a cup and poured the puke green mixture into it before taking a sip. "So, Cas left this morning?"

"Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to, Bitch?" The coffee finished percolating, and Dean poured himself a mug. "Something about angel business."

Sam chugged some of his drink. "Interesting. And how would you know that, Jerk? Cause you were still asleep when he left. He walked out with me when I went on my run."

"Your point?"

"We ran into each other as he exited your room." Sam smiled smugly into his cup.

"He left a note on my bed," Dean responded quickly.

"You're so full of shit. Cas left in a pair of your pajama bottoms." Sam set the cup down and poured the rest of the blender's contents into it. "It's also not the first morning I saw him snuck out. I'm sure it's not going to be the last time, is it?"

Dean glared at Sam. "Get to your point."

"So you and Cas... Are you together?" Sam grabbed one of his cardboard granola bars before crossing to the table and sitting down. "No judgment if you are."

"Uh... It's complicated." Dean scratched the back of his neck. "I uh, had a really bad nightmare. He overheard it and woke my ass up." Dean watched Sam carefully. "He offered to keep an eye me, to help me fall back to sleep.” He looked away, hoping that he wasn’t blushing. “It was the best I ever slept. Cas noticed and offered to spend more nights with me. He figured I’d be in better condition that way."

Sam sat at the table quietly, waiting for Dean to continue.

"It moved on from there. Now we occasionally blow off some steam." Dean took a moment to watch several expressions run across his brother’s face. Excitement. Joy. Confusion. And now Classic Bitch Face #127. "What?"

"Just blowing off steam?" Sam glared at Dean. "So, you haven't been honest with him, or you haven't been honest with yourself?"

"Excuse me?" Dean set his mug on the table and crossed his arms, staring at Sam.

"It means that you're in love with Cas, and won't admit. Figures my brother is a coward."

Dean jabbed his finger in Sam's direction. "You... You don't know what you're talking about." He turned and started to storm off, stopping only to backtrack and grab his coffee, before retreating to his room.

...

Sam sat quietly in the peace of the library. Between texting with Eileen, researching a possible hunt, and maybe playing an occasional game on his phone, the morning’s events ended up pushed to the back of his mind. As he finished sending off a response to Eileen, Dean came barging into the library.

"Sam. Did you say something?" Dean slammed his hands on the table in front of him. "What the hell did you do?"

"Me? What are you talking about? I've been in here since,” He picked up his phone and looked at the time. “Since breakfast." Sam rested his chin on his hands. "Is Cas back?"

"YOU DID CALL HIM!"

"First and foremost, Dean. Cas went to do Angel stuff. He can't get phone calls in Heaven, so why would I even attempt to call him?" Sam paused and tilted his head. "Second, I'm not going to pester him about your insecurities."

"Then what the hell is this?" Dean pulled out his phone and slammed it down on the table, flinching slightly and picking it back up to check the screen. "I don't understand this."

Sam held up a finger before pointing at the chair that sat across from him. He stood up as Dean took the seat and crossed over to another table. Sam picked up two glasses and a decanter of whiskey before returning to his own chair. Popping the lid off, he poured a glass for Dean and one for himself. "What's wrong?"

"Cas uh... Cas, well..." Dean picked up his phone and unlocked it before sliding it across the table to Sam. "I am warning you. From brother to brother. Don't scroll up."

"Yeah, I'll take that to heart." Sam picked up the phone and read the screen that Dean had presented him.

[Dean, 9:31 AM]: I forgot how big my bed is.

[Cas, 10:00 AM]: Why is that?

[Dean, 10:01 AM]: I haven't woken up alone in a few weeks now. [Dean, 10:03 AM]: It wasn't nice waking up without you.

[Cas, 10:15 AM]: I'm sorry to have made things uncomfortable for you.

[Dean, 10:17 AM]: Cas, Buddy. That's not what I meant. [Dean, 10:25 AM]: Seriously, dude. I mean, I like what we have going on. [Dean, 10:35 AM]: Cas?

[Cas, 10:37 AM]: You might enjoy what we have, but I'm afraid I don't. [Cas, 10:39 AM]: It's getting hard for me to maintain this casual relationship.

Sam looked up from the phone and smiled at his brother. "You're upset over this?" He reread the conversation and took a screenshot, texting it to himself. "There is nothing to be upset over here. This is a good thing!" Sam picked up his phone and sent the screenshot to Eileen, adding on, "Dean thinks Cas wants to leave."

"He doesn't want to keep the relationship, Sam. Cas says it right there." Dean pointed at his phone.

"What I see is you complaining that he let you sleep in so he could go do angel stuff, and then him saying that he wants more." Sam's phone went off, and he checked the text message from Eileen. She replied that she had come to the same conclusion. "Dude, even Eileen, who doesn't have the context I have..." He turned his phone so Dean could read it.

"You sent her a picture of my text with Cas?" Dean tossed back the rest of his whiskey and poured himself another. "What the actual hell?"

"Dean! I needed you to know that you're reading it wrong. And Eileen also sees what I see." Sam stopped and rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "Do you honestly think that Cas would want to stop what you two are doing completely?"

Dean nodded. "He's probably figured out that I'm not good for him. He's an angel for fuck's sake. They're not even supposed to... whatever it is he and I had."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam downed his own whiskey and leaned back in his chair. "I mean, he looks away when you look at him, and you look away when he looks at you, but let me tell you about the way you two stare at each other."

"Shut up."

Sam shook his head. "Not this time. I have literal proof on my phone, from yours, that Cas cares about you. You're the one that's not reading it correctly."

"I can read what's on my phone, Sam." Dean slides his phone up and down the screen. "Maintaining what we have is hard for him."

"Because he wants more!" Sam dragged his hand down his face. "I know you can't see what a good guy you are under the self-doubt that Dad piled on top of you, but Cas does. If anyone knows you better than me, it's Cas. He rebuilt you from the ground up. He knows you inside and out, heart, body, and soul."

Dean shook his head. "I still think you're wrong." He slid his phone into his pocket and finished off the second glass of whiskey. "Any milk runs nearby?"

"No. I'm still researching this one, but it might be one that's our kinda thing." Sam looked down at his notes, disappointed but understanding Dean's need to drop the conversation. "So, get this. A few abductions following a pattern, the bodies show up, but the locals aren't releasing any details. Probably thinking it's a serial killer and not wanting to spawn a copycat." He looked back up. "Dean?"

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone. "Cat Serial Killer. I'm listening."

"No, you're not." Sam set his pen down. "You’re distracted, afraid that you're going to lose Cas when he clearly wants more." Sam pointed at Dean, trying to make his voice as stern as possible. "Call him. Or I will."

"You wouldn't dare." Dean jabbed his finger at Sam before standing up and storming out of the library.

Sam picked his own phone up. "Bet me."

…

Dean flipped through Netflix on his laptop. Sam didn't want to get involved in his love life. He wouldn't do anything. Right? Dean slammed the lid of his computer shut and set it on the nightstand. He let out a huff of frustration and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillows. Dean groaned, his frustration muffled by the softness surrounding his head.

"Hello, Dean."

"What?" Dean shot up, quickly scrambling to his knees and turning towards the foot of his bed. "Cas?"

"You were expecting somebody else?" Cas looked at the door. "I hadn't heard from you since your last text message. I was concerned.”

"You were waiting for one?" Dean grabbed his phone and looked over his texts. "The last one you sent was over five hours ago."

Cas nodded. "And it is still sitting, unanswered."

"Sorry, Cas." Dean looked up from his phone. "I just... I didn't realize you didn't like what we have. I thought maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Cas took off his trenchcoat and jacket, laying them on the back of a chair, as he crossed to the bed and sat down on his side. He bent over and untied his shoes, kicking them off to the corner of the room. "Dean?"

"I uh..." Dean shook his head. "You're getting undressed?"

"I'm getting comfortable. I made a point of getting done early so you wouldn't have to sleep alone." Cas repositioned himself on the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him. "Come talk to me?"

Dean crawled up the bed and sat next to Cas, mimicking his position.

"I know that my return is surprising you, especially considering that I said I would be gone for a day or two. But it seems like something else has caught you off guard.”

"Your text." Dean held up his phone again. "You said that you couldn't maintain our relationship. I thought you were ending this between us."

Cas chuckled. "I know Sam said you misunderstood, but I wasn't expecting this level of self-doubt."

"That fucker did call you!" Dean ran his hand down his face.

"And with good reason, it appears." Cas took Dean's hand and held it tightly. "Dean, do you know how much you mean to me?"

"Honestly? I'm not entirely sure at the moment." Dean holds up his hand. "I know we're friends, and I know that you care about me. I just don't know how much. It felt like I was disposable earlier."

"That was never my intent, Dean. I meant that I can't continue this as a casual relationship." Cas tugged on Dean's hand and pulled him into his arms. "I meant that I need you to know that I love you. That I don't want to be just a fling that hides in the bedroom, waiting until we know the hallway is clear."

Dean raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You talked to Sam this morning too."

"That may have been the case, yes." Cas ran his fingers through Dean's hair. "He wasn't exactly surprised to see me walk out of your room, and he may have cornered me."

"Goddammit, Sam," Dean grumbled quietly under his breath. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't feel pressured–"

"Dean." Cas placed a finger over Dean's lips, effectively stopping him from talking. "Sam merely asked why I was in your room. Then when I said I was leaving a note, he pointed out that I obviously forgot that I was wearing your pajama pants."

"He mentioned the same thing to me. And about walking outside together as he went for his walk." Dean leaned into Cas. "What did you tell him?"

Cas smiled, a rare show of affection from the angel, and Dean felt his face flush with warmth. "I told him what I just told you. I love you."

"Really?" Dean felt his jaw drop a second time. "You're not going to break up with me?

"I wouldn't dream of it." Cas pulled Dean closer, claiming his lips as he pulled Dean into his lap.

…

The next morning, Sam stopped in front of Dean's door. He knew that he might have crossed a line, pushing Dean to confessions and admissions he may not have been ready to share. Sam adjusted the tray he carried, careful to make sure the coffee or cereal spilled out of their respectful vessels. He knocked on the door, waiting to hear Dean yell at him or shuffle across the room. Hell, Sam half expected the sound of a boot hitting the door, followed by profanities.

After waiting a moment with no sound, Sam knocked again, a little louder. "Dean?"

He waited a few more minutes, slightly perturbed that there was no sound coming from the other side of the door. Sam tried the doorknob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He turned it and pushed the door open as quietly as possible. As he entered the room, Sam nearly dropped the tray, scrambling to rebalance it.

In the bed, Dean looked like he was fast asleep. It was - without a doubt - the most peaceful sleep he had ever seen his brother enjoy.

Yet it was Cas, cuddling Dean, holding him tightly, that surprised Sam the most. He had thought that Dean would have found a way to sabotage himself, to chase Cas away. Sam walked in quietly and set the tray down on Dean's table. As he started towards the door, a voice behind him startled him.

"Here to say I told you so?" Dean yawned out, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Dean." Sam pointed to Cas. "I'm just glad you listened to me and didn't push him away like I thought you would."

Dean waved his hand, shooing Sam out of the room. "I hear you loud and clear." He paused. "Thanks, Bitch."

Sam chuckled, exiting the room. "You're welcome, Jerk."

[baritonechick]

Gabriel’s Love Letter

Reader writes notes to Dean, Sam, Cas, and Gabriel

Loosely based on “To All the Boys I’ve Loved”

“What’s this?” Jack pulls a small, decorated box out from under your bed. He tugs at the top before you can run over and stop him.

“Jack, don’t touch that,” you warn, desperately trying to reach for the container. The nephilim’s strength keeps you back and he begins pulling out the letters.

The letters to all the boys you’d loved before, well, essentially the boys in the bunker you’d had a crush on at one point. Sam, Dean, and Cas’s were all from the past, but Gabriel’s was fairly recent.

Thankfully, your room was one of the few ones warded against angels of all kinds. Jack could pass by because of being half-human.

“What are these?” Jack inquires curiosly, peeking into Cas’s letter to read it.

“They’re letters, Jack. And they aren’t supposed to be read by anyone,” you huff, once again trying to grab the paper from his grasp.

His eyes skim over the words on the page, and his eyes widen.

“You like Castiel?”

“Give me that,” you frown, snatching the note from him.

“There is one for Sam, Dean, and Gabriel also in here, too. Why haven’t you given them these?”

Your expression turns fearful immediately.

“No, Jack. These aren’t for them, or for you, to read. It’s a way for me to get over liking them. We all live together. It’d be awkward for me to have a crush on any of them.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrow, his nose scrunching up.

“But isn’t love what drives humans? What if one of them likes you back!”

“Shh,” you hush him, stuffing the letters back in the box and shoving it back under your bed.

“None of them like me, Jack. Go back to your room and get some sleep,” you sigh, standing up from the floor.

The nephilim copies your movements silently. He heads for the door quickly and exits your room with a look of dejection and sadness. 

Thankfully, he is out of your hair about the letters. Those are very private and go into extreme detail about your crushes on the boys. And now, with all the people living in the bunker, it has made things much more chaotic.

You climb into bed, realizing it’s quite late now. You’re able to fall asleep with little worries.

-

Your phone buzzes violently, alerting you that it’s time to get up. You’re glad that you let yourself sleep in this much. It’s almost 10:30.

You’re clad in warm pajamas and a fluffy robe as you head for the kitchen. Thankfully, it’s almost midday, so hardly anyone is in the way of you and the fridge. However, you do notice Sam reaching for a mug from the cupboards. He’s the only one in the room with you, so you mumble a “Good morning”.

It’s as if a ghost had scared him with the face he gives you.

“O-oh, morning,” he smiles awkwardly, grabbing his cup and quickly leaving.

What the hell, you think, tugging open the refrigerator’s door. A chilling gust of air hits you, and you fight back a shiver. Maybe Sam’s just skiddish after everything that occurred in the apocalypse world. 

There’s little to no food stocked up; someone would hopefully be on a supply run by now. You opt for an apple, closing the fridge.

Your body turns around just as Dean comes walking through the doorway.

“Hey, what’s going on with Sam? He’s acting weird,” you ask, taking a bite of the apple in your palm. 

“I’m sure Sam’s fine. Listen, Y/n, we’ve got to talk,” Dean lets out a deep breath, leaning against the counter away from the exit. The tone in his voice means something’s wrong.

“We’ve been through a lot, and you’re like a little sister to me,” he pauses to make sure you’re listening and understanding.

“Yeah, I got it, Dean. What’s the issue?”

“I don’t like you... in a romantic sense.”

The realization hits you, and it hits hard. Your mind is reeling. Jack must have told them all, that’s why Sam was acting so odd when you talked to him. Or even worse, maybe Jack had given out the letters.

“Dean, I don’t like you, well, not anymore. What did Jack tell you?”

Dean’s eyes narrow in confusion and he crosses his arms. 

“He didn’t tell me anything, just gave me a note from you.”

Your eyes widen into the size of golf balls, At least, that’s what you imagine happened. You quickly push past Dean, shouting, “I’ll explain later,” and rushing down the hall toward your room. 

You spot Cas and Gabriel down the hall talking, their conversation being stopped short as they both turn to you. Your mind goes straight into panic mode.

“Hey, Y/n, you got a second?” Gabriel calls, motioning for you to join them. The option is there, to get it all over with and to explain the situation to both of them. However, your brain wants to take a different route.

Without thinking, your cheeks flush red and you duck into your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You’re safe in here, the angels can’t get past the sigils.

Your feet carry you to the foot of your bed and you kneel down to pull the box out from under your bed. Maybe Jack only gave out Sam and Dean’s as a funny prank. An awful, demented, torturous funny prank.

Slowly, your fingers brush the edge of the lid. You carefully lift it up, gazing down into a completely empty container. It’s all over.

You fall back onto your butt, pulling your knees up into your chest. Your arms are wrapped around your calves and you can’t help the sobs spilling from your mouth.

Everything was ruined. The boys will all hate you if they don’t already. You’ll have to move out and live on your own again, hunting by yourself. You don’t want that, you have it so perfect here. And these stupid letters are going to be the end of that.

You force yourself to take deep breaths, not allowing for a panic attack right now. Think, Y/n, there has to be a way to fix this before it gets out of hand.

What if Jack hadn’t gotten to Gabriel and Cas, yet? You’ve got to act now.

You clamber up, wiping the spare tears away on the sleeve of your robe. You groan, realizing you haven’t changed from your sleepwear yet. There’s no time for that right now.

Upon opening the door to your room and peering out, it seems Gabriel has disappeared and now Cas is by himself. He leans against the brick wall with a confused look as he stares down at a piece of paper. His brow bone arches downwards as he strains to read the words on the page. Your bare feet hit the cold tiles of the floor with each quick step.

“Cas, hey, um, can I take a look at that paper?” You smile nervously, as your words register in the angel’s head. He peers up and holds the note out for you to take.

You snatch it, letting out a thankful sigh.

“I’d just finished reading it. I’m glad you see me so fondly, Y/n. It proves our friendship is very strong,” Cas gravelly voice speaks, and you mentally face-palm. Of course he didn’t understand that you meant it romantically at the time.

“Yea, we’re really good friends, Cas. That’s all I meant with that. Say, do you know where Jack went? I have a letter for him, too.”

Oh, you had a letter for him. You really wished you had a book to smack him upside the head.

Cas nods, pointing down the hall, the opposite direction of your room. 

“He said he was looking for Gabriel, who also headed that way.”

Your head is spinning now, it’s hard to concentrate on the task at hand. You could chalk up Sam, Dean, and Cas’s letters to accidents that were very far in the past. But Gabriel’s, you can’t deal with that heartbreak.

“Thanks, Cas,” you reply with a small stutter, rushing off to find Jack.

“Jack! I’m gonna kick your little, half-angel ass!” You shout, loud enough for anyone in the bunker to hear. The pitter patter of your feet clicking on the floor is enough to drive someone insane, especially with the given situation. 

The hall eventually opens up into the library, where numerous groups of people are scattered, discussing various hunts and cases. Off to the side, you see Gabriel in a conversation with other world Charlie, both laughing at something one of them said.

 In the corner of your eye, another figure is moving toward the pair. With a quick glance, you’re able to pinpoint the person as Jack, effectively about to ruin your whole life by handing Gabriel the note.

Everything starts to slow down, and you can see Jack ducking around people to reach Gabriel. You move as quick as your human legs can go, now only a few feet from the laughing pair. 

Unfortunately, you’re not able to stop in time, completely and utterly colliding with Gabriel’s body. You fall to the floor with him underneath you like some cheesy romantic comedy.

Your face is bright red and burning, less than a foot away from the archangel’s below you. This is not how you imagined this day was going to go.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, forgetting for the moment about Jack’s mission to torture you.

You pick your self up, dusting off the dirt from your embarrassingly casual attire. Gabriel’s wearing a small smirk, chuckling as he too stands back up.

“What are you in a hurry for?” He asks nonchalantly, as if you hadn’t just ran him over.

“I, uh,” are the only words that can form in your head, which is now spinning from the impact. 

As you’re struggling to find a response, Jack pops up beside you, smiling cheerily. 

“I’ve got something for you, uncle!” The nephilim says, shoving the note into Gabriel’s chest.

The archangel’s attention turns to his nephew, who’s beaming at the fact that he’s about to completely ruin your life forever.

Gabriel slowly reaches for the piece of paper, but you’re quick enough to snatch it away. He’s surprised that you’ve taken it, retaliating by raising an eyebrow.

“Why did you just take that from me?”

You squirm under his and Jack’s intense, celestial gazes, “You don’t want to read it. It’s just some dumb story I wrote that Jack wants to share with everyone.”

The nephilim’s name comes out as a hiss from your mouth.

Gabriel’s confusion, and now curiosity, springs to life. You can tell he’s thinking about all of his options.

“There’s something you’re hiding from me, Y/n. You really don’t want me to read that,” he smirks, offering you a chance at a response.

With the letter in hand, you feel confident and care-free. The world is on your side for once.

You need to drop yourself from the conversation as soon as possible so you can tear up and burn this piece of paper.

“I already told you, Gabriel. Anyways, I’ll see you all later.”

You turn your body completely around, ready to head for your bedroom. Adrenaline is pumping through your body, but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You glance at the note in your hand... and it’s gone.

You’ve never spun around so fast in your life. The action isn’t expected by your body, and now you’ve acquired a hard headache.

Gabriel has a letter, his letter, in his hand, taunting you by waving it around. Your eyes widen, but there’s nothing you can do against an archangel’s curiosity.

“Gabriel, please, do not read that letter,” you plead, screaming at him in your thoughts to forget it. Of course, Gabriel was always too stubborn for anybody’s good.

A pair of reading glasses comically appears on Gabriel’s face as he opens the note although you’re horrified with embarrassment at what is about to take place.

“Dear Gabriel... blah blah blah cute blah blah blah funny,” Gabriel nods, “blah blah blah... love.”

He’d read it all, all the way to the end. The look of amazement on his face makes the panic set in. If you run back to your room in time, maybe you can lock yourself in forever. Right before you strangle Jack.

You quickly set a pace for your bedroom. The long hallway is torturous to run down. There are no footsteps following you, and no sound of wings fluttering. That means you must have scared Gabriel off for good and you’re heartbroken by the thought of it.

Your exhales get longer as you slow down, coming to a halt in front of your bedroom door. The only problem is, there’s now an archangel blocking the way.

“Gabriel, I don’t know what to say,” you blurt out, unable to form a coherent sentence to explain the letter.

Gabriel’s letter was current, all the other boys’ letters were from years ago. You had just written the letter addressed to Gabriel a few months ago.

You’re watching his demeanor, and the way his body is entirely still, while his bright, golden eyes are digging into your skull. He’s a few feet from you, leaning against the wall rigidly.

“Is this letter true?”

His voice came out deeper than normal, and it sent chills down your spine.

You gulp and manage to whisper, “Yes.”

Gabriel closes the gap between the two of you. His steps are deliberate and nerve-wracking, making you breathe heavy. The archangel wraps a strong hand around your waist, the other reaching up to cup your face. His thumb runs over your lips and his eyes are glued to the same spot.

Oh my GOD he’s going to kiss me.

Gabriel leans forward, slowly pressing his lips against yours. They’re soft and you can faintly smell chocolate. Your whole body relaxes into him, reveling in the feeling of his body so close to you. Moments pass till you’re wondering where this may lead and you’re hoping it’s the bedroom.

Gabriel gently pulls away and chuckles lowly. There’s a smirk on his face and a tension in the air.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Loud shouts can be heard echoing down the halls and you recognize them to be Jack.

You smile evily, sending a wink to Gabriel.

“We’ll finish this later. I’ve got a nephilim to smack,” you say, racing down the halls.

[anarchyduck]

Febuwhump - Impaling

Title: The Hardest Part 

Fandom: Marvel

CW: Blood, serious injury but nothing terribly graphic 

AO3 link here

(Am I doing whump right? Feels like I’m on the right track lol)

It is strangely quiet when Peter comes back to consciousness. He blinks as little black dots retreat to the farther edges of his vision. Much to his dismay, he sees his suit is torn from a cut that runs from his knee and wraps around his thigh. ‘There goes my ‘No Suit Damage’ streak,’ he thinks mournfully. Oddly enough it does not hurt.

Peter frowns as he tries to piece things together, figure out what is going on, but it is all muddled. It’s cobwebs covered with molasses and mud, and he’s trying to wade through it waist deep. There is something else that tugs at a thread, something that feels important and leaves a dull ache at the back of his neck.

He tries thinking of something else. What was he doing? Fighting. He was fighting someone – no, they were fighting someone. A gang of illegal arms dealers who’d gotten their hands on alien tech. Just down the river from the compound, outside the city. Technically not Avenger business, but he managed to convince Tony it would be better if they handled it rather than local police. He and Tony… no, he and Tony and Rhodey tracked the gang to a construction site. Office buildings. Concrete and metal and dirt. Someone threw a cement truck at him.

The rest is a blank.

Peter reaches to push up the mask from his face, but other hands catch him around the wrists. “No, don’t do that.” The familiar voice pierces through the sludge and Peter latches onto it. 

“Mr. Rhodey? What’s… Why?” He can see the familiar black and grey suit in his peripheral, kneeling beside him. Yet when he tries turning his head, he cannot.

He can’t turn his neck.

“M-Mr. Rhodey?” Peter’s heart beats wilder, faster. The back of his neck burns, the smell of blood and sweat filling his nose, strangling him. “I ca-can’t… I can’t!”

Rhodey, mercifully, pushes up his mask over his nose and Peter gasps for breath. He wants to get up, wants to move, but something screams to him no. Do not move. Be still. Do not move.

He can’t turn his neck.

“You gotta breathe. Focus on your breathing, Pete, or you’re going to pass out.” Rhodey says at his side, his hand holding Peter’s and squeezes. It helps, brings him back down and Peter works on those exercises Tony told him about (Breath in through your nose. Hold. Then release through your mouth. Repeat.)

 “Good.” Rhodey says. “Can you tell me what hurts? What’s your pain level?”

 Peter hesitates. “Uh, not bad?” he takes another deep breath, only to wince as pain catches in his side. “Ribs kinda hurt.”

 “That’s it? Nothing else?”

 Peter wants to shake his head, but the voice screams no (do not move, do not move). “N-No, don’t think so.” He licks his lips, tastes blood. Smells blood. “What’s going on?”

 Before Rhodey can answer, another metal suit lands beside him. “Oh fuck.” Tony breathes. There’s an edge, a shudder, that makes his blood run cold.

 His eyes widen behind his mask. Nothing comes across the HUD. Karen is down. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. “Mr. Stark, what-“

 He can’t turn his neck.

 “Not now, Tones.” Suddenly Rhodey’s voice sounds miles away. A hundred, no, a thousand miles away. Peter can barely hear it over his own rapid heartbeat.

 “He has an iron rod through his fucking-”

 Whatever else Tony says fades out. Peter only knows the panic that grips his throat, roots him in place. His back is pressed against a slab of concrete, cold and sticky. Thoughts scramble in his mind and he feels like he is drowning. The world narrows to a point and he can only see the blood wound on his leg, only smell blood.

 “—eter. Peter! Shit, he’s going into shock. Tony, cut it!”

 “FRI, alert the medical team. Tell them to get ready.”

 “Kid, stay awake. We’re going to get you out, just stay—”

“Talk to me, Pete!”

Peter doesn’t hear the rest. 

------

There are a few horrifying moments that are seared into Tony Stark’s brain. One was flying through the wormhole over New York City while carrying an armed nuclear warhead. Another was helplessly watching Pepper fall into a raging ball of fire. The third was seeing Rhodey plummet to the earth. 

And now he has a fourth - the sight of Peter Parker with an iron rebar sticking through his skull. 

Tony runs his hands through his hair, leg bouncing anxiously. He feels useless. More than useless. Like he should be doing something. He picks at his nails, paces, fights the urge to retreat to his lab. He catches himself several times looking at the door every time he hears a noise that sounds remotely like footsteps. 

When they arrived, Helen and her team met them at the door with a gurney. Peter was rushed away for surgery and that was it. All they can do is wait. As time stretches, the more Tony replays the scene in his head. The image of a cement truck hurtling through the air, hitting Spider-Man and knocking him through a cinderblock wall. FRIDAY’s voice in his ears telling him Karen was offline. Rhodey goes to the kid first because he’s closer, because Tony is too busy blasting away the guy who dared throw a truck at his kid. 

Tony covers his face and rubs his eyes hard enough to see flashes of white. The scene replays again and ends with the same horrifying result.

“Okay,” Rhodey sighs as he returns to the waiting lounge. “Just got off the phone with Happy. He and May will be here in a couple hours.” He takes a seat in the chair across. “Tony, stop. I can hear you blaming yourself all the way over here.”

“I should have done something.” Tony drags his hands from his face as he leans back on the sofa. “Should’ve seen that guy quicker.”

“It’s not your fault.” 

Tony shakes his head. “Isn’t it?” he scoffs and looks away. “It was supposed to be a casual weekend visit. Hanging out in the lab, staying up watching movies, that’s it. No fighting, no going up against crazy gangs with stolen, modded tech. I shouldn’t have let him go.”

“You think he really would’ve wanted to be put on the bench?” Rhodey asks and when Tony doesn’t answer, he continues, “He’s going to get hurt, Tones. Best you can do is be there.” 

He isn’t sure if it helps, but Tony nods anyway. “Yeah.”

[ampleappleamble]

---

"...Did I fuck this up?"

Edér looked up from his whittling, focusing his good eye on the little woman. The other eye was still swollen shut, shiny and painful from their fight against his late Lord, but with some rest and the help of Raedric's priests-- Kolsc's priests, now-- he and the rest of his friends would be good as new for the trek back to Caed Nua tomorrow.

"Ain't too many ways I can think of to fuck up killin' a terrible murderin' bastard like Raedric," he mumbled around his mouthful of smoke, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Unless y' think we didn't kill him enough, or somethin'."

Axa's lips smiled, but the rest of her face did not follow suit. Her party was spending the night in a corner of the Berathian priests' sleeping quarters in Raedric's sanctuary, and she sat on her borrowed bed gently rocking to and fro, her knees drawn up to her chest, her sharp little nails worrying tiny holes in her trousers.

"The Legacy makes men mad. Perhaps it does worse to women. I do not know." Raedric had looked Axa over, then, had glanced toward his bedchamber where his own wife lay dead in their marital bed--

"No, we killed him exactly the right amount, I think." The smile was already gone, soundly quashed by the memory. "I just... feel like I may have acted in haste here. Like there's something I'm missing about all this that's going to bite me in the ass later, when I least expect it." She pressed her chin into her knees, curling up as tightly into herself as she could.

--if i make myself small enough i can just hide away from all this and no one will see me--

Kana chuckled, idly leafing through a massive tome that dwarfed even his sizable lap as he reclined in the worn armchair next to Axa's bed. "Yes, it is a rough sea, the world of the ruling class! So many nerve-wracking social calculations to make, always looking over one's shoulder... The political alliances to take into account, then the family alliances... But even the Ranga Nui himself and his own son are at ideological odds! And if you're discovered as a fair-weather friend, paying lip service to either or both--"

"I think," Aloth interrupted, "perhaps, that you've made your point, Kana." The elf was just as irritable now as he had been the morning that old drunk had showed up at Caed Nua, and his half-healed broken rib was not helping to improve his mood.

And now the in-fighting begins in the Lady of Caed Nua's inner circle. Axa felt her guts redouble their efforts to destroy themselves, anxiety churning inside her like acid. "Gods, I'm ill-suited for this politicking horseshit. Why did I think I could do this? I'm Ixamitli, we don't... nobody 'owns' the land, that's not how--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" Kana pressed on, seemingly oblivious to Aloth's peevish attitude. "Just as hard lands forge strong people, rough seas often yield great rewards. For instance, when we return to Caed Nua on the morrow, we can look forward to seeing your Brighthollow manse restored to its former beauty and prestige! Well, in part, anyway. All because of your actions here today and Kolsc's gratitude!"

"And even if you weren't gettin' somethin' out of it," Edér added, "you're the kinda lady can't rest without knowing you did the best thing y' could. Point being, y' had to do something, long-term consequences be damned. And like I said earlier, if y' have to do something, it's hard to go wrong with killing a mass-murdering shitheel like Raedric. No matter how bad Kolsc might turn out to be, better him than what we had goin' on before." He casually brushed the wood shavings from his lap, either ignoring or unaware of the annoyed glares and whispers from the priests in the room.

Axa glanced across the room at Aloth, who simply lay on his back in his bed in the corner, eyes screwed shut, his grimoire too heavy to hold in his lap without irritating his wounds. "Maybe," she sighed, lifting her head from her knees, "I should just hire on an advisor. Someone who actually knows what they're doing, to help me navigate these choppy waters." Her gaze flicked to Kana, a wicked little grin popping up on her face. "You know anyone who needs a job?"

The aumaua laughed, a thunderous noise that filled the small room. "Everyone I know is either in this room or in Rauatai, my friend! But I take your meaning. However, my own experience with the gentry is limited to the court of the Ranga Nui, a profoundly different environment from the one in which you find yourself, so I'm afraid I'd be more of a hindrance than a boon. And--" He glanced over at Edér, his smile half apologetic and half cheeky-- "I hope he'll forgive me for saying so, but our Edér doesn't seem like the sort to hobnob with the nobility."

The folk man snorted. "What tipped y' off?"

"That leaves you, Aloth," Kana continued, smiling in the elf's direction. "If I recall, you were raised among the gentry in Aedyr, were you not? That's a bit closer to the political system and aristocratic power structure here; any insight you have into that world would surely be invaluable to our Watcher. You're qualified, intelligent, you're clearly quite learned, you're... capable in battle. Why, you even came to the Dyrwood with the express purpose of finding a patron!" He was getting excited now, leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating passionately. "And here she is! What marvelous serendipity!"

Axa couldn't help but be charmed by Kana's enthusiasm, and she appreciated his effort to lift the wizard's spirits. "That's not a bad idea, actually. What say, Aloth?" She couldn't see his face from where he lay, but she could see his ears were bright red.

Not a fan of being the center of attention, I see. She felt a sudden surge of sympathy and warmth towards the man, and found her own ears reddening soon thereafter.

"I wouldn't take the gig 'f I were you. She can't even pay you, 's what I heard." Edér winked at her, taking his attention away from his whittling for just a second, then hissed with pain and surprise as his knife slipped.

Kana shook his head, his grin as wide as ever as he regarded the farmer with pity. "O, poor man! He who thinks coin is the sole and lone benefit of working for a prestigious, powerful woman like our Watcher! The true rewards of such a vocation are not in material wealth, my friend, but in the challenge! Rebuilding the glorious Caed Nua from the crumbling ruins... The intrigue of the political world of the Dyrwood... the tension, the drama... not to mention the treasure trove of ancient Engwithan secrets just waiting to be discovered in the Endless Paths!" He sighed like a lovestruck maiden telling her friends of her handsome beau. "Ah! I'm so envious. Were I more well-suited to the position, I'd have accepted her first offer in an instant! As it is, it seems I'll have to settle for hired muscle. Either way, I couldn't ask for a finer directress!" Now Axa's entire face was getting warm, and she found herself unable to look at Kana, although she could feel his eyes on her, his smile, warming her like gentle spring sunlight.

"Aye, I wager ye'd leap at a position 'neath 'er, slick-a-britches."

Aloth very quickly clapped a hand over his open mouth-- the loud pop! filling the little room-- and then came the long, shuddering groan of pain muffled behind his fingers, the sudden movement having yanked at his sore ribs.

Axa immediately flopped over onto her side, laughing like Hel, unable to stop herself. Edér's eyebrows leapt up his forehead, surprise and delight clear on his face, his wounded thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.

"...She seems impressed. I think you've got the job, my friend!" Kana chuckled, flipping to a new page in his gigantic book. He paused, considering, and then leaned forward in his seat, cocking his head with curiosity. "...Did you say 'slick-a-britches'?"

"No. I didn't. I said nothing." The elf's voice was quiet and short and clipped. "I'm in immense pain and I'm speaking complete and utter idiotic meaningless nonsense. ...Can we please talk about anything else." Axa was still giggling, tip of her tongue sticking out between her front teeth. He squirmed with embarrassment, and it hurt.

"As you say. How about this animancy research?" The scholar lifted the huge tome on his lap, tilting it up to show Edér as he crossed the room to wash and wrap his thumb. "I'm no animancer, to be sure, but from what little I've managed to decipher from Osyra's records, she may have been onto something!"

Aloth bristled, his breath hitching as he exhaled a bit too sharply. He had said 'anything else,' hadn't he. "All any animancer has accomplished, at the very best, is to swell their own ego and their own coinpurse. In particular, Osrya was a dangerous, insane monster who mutated kith into abominations. I have no interest whatsoever in reading anything that woman may have seen fit to record."

Anyone else would take the man's curt tone and disparaging language as the opposite of an invitation to continue. Kana continued with renewed gusto, "But if what Osrya posits is true-- and as far as I can tell, her methods are logically sound, if not morally-- why, then this may just provide the solution to the Legacy that the Dyrwood has been searching for these 15 long years!"

Axa had stopped laughing a while back, but only now did she sit back up. She remembered the animancer's words, recited them aloud with an accuracy she would not ordinarily expect from herself--

"It must be a localized effect. Something which strips the soul from a body, as the bîaŵacs are known to do. I have detected, even so, lingering traces of essence upon the bodies of so-called Hollowborn. This suggests that the soul itself has not been wholly destroyed. It remains, I think, intact somewhere."

Everyone-- even Aloth, lifting his head from his pillows-- looked at her, dumbstruck. The few priests remaining in the room hurriedly shuffled out, angrily whispering prayers to ward their souls against blasphemers.

"Um." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortably self-conscious. "That was... what she had to say, anyway. Before we killed her. ...If I'm remembering correctly."

"That's... what's in here, more or less, yes," Kana blurted, his ever-present grin tinged with nervousness as he shut the enormous book.

"So, what," Edér drawled, squinting at his half-finished carving as he turned it this way and that, "Hollowborn got a soul, but... somethin' or, or someone takes it from 'em soon as they're born?" He furrowed his brow, frowned at a blotch of red on the misshapen wooden thing in his hand. "And... what, hides 'em somewhere? Eats 'em? Why?"

"That would depend, it seems, on who or what is manipulating the souls, I would think." Kana actually frowned, now, staring blankly into the book. "Although I'd be hard-pressed to identify a creature capable of manipulating souls on this grand a scale, for this long, with this much apparent ease and consistency... short of, perhaps, a god." He glanced furtively at Edér, holding up his huge hands in deference. "Not that I'm attempting to implicate any particular deity..."

The farmer shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight with conviction. "Don't worry about me thinkin' that. Like I said before-- I can't and won't believe that Eothas was the kinda god would do somethin' like this."

"Do you believe, then, as some in your country do, that the recent prevalence of animancy is to blame?" The scholar was fumbling for a bit of charcoal, now, eager to take notes. "Keep in mind, the Vailian Republics has not suffered a similar Hollowing despite being the leading animancy practitioners on Eora--"

"Whether the recent uptick in animancy has caused the Legacy by inviting the ire of the gods is nigh impossible to know, and thus pointless to discuss," Aloth interjected, "although I certainly wouldn't put it past many of the gods to come up with a bizarre, horrific punishment like the Legacy in retribution for any slight from us kith, real or perceived.” He glanced balefully at the door the Berathians had shut behind them as they’d left. “What can be meritoriously discussed is what to do about the unbridled, barely educated charlatans taking advantage of a terrified and exhausted populace, using the Hollowborn crisis to feed their sick curiosity and their pocketbooks both. That is the everyday reality of animancy that must be dealt with in the Dyrwood." He winced in pain, his impassioned argument a bit too much for his battered body. "...Ahem. In my opinion."

"I don't think I know enough about any of it to have much of an opinion about it, bein' honest." Edér scratched the back of his neck, squinting in confusion as Kana eagerly copied down the conversation, his attention ping-ponging excitedly between each successive speaker. "I feel like that whole world is way, way beyond my ken." He smiled over at the orlan, glad to see her relaxing and engaging with other kith instead of clutching her knees and staring into the middle distance. He'd seen enough of that during the Saint's War. "...Although some of 'em are tryin' to do somethin' about the Legacy, at least. I guess. This animancer was a crazy piece of shit, but she's also the only animancer I ever met, 's far's I know. So I don't really got a lot to go on. Y'know?"

"Caldara was sweet, and extremely helpful." Axa felt an odd little tug of nostalgia at the memory of the dwarf, her warm, motherly smile. "Of course, she was also dead when I met her. So you'll kind of have to take my word for it. That said, ultimately I have to agree with you: I don't know enough about animancy to pass any sort of judgment on it just yet. It seems potentially useful, perhaps even miraculously so, but also extremely volatile and dangerous." The little woman paused, stretching her sore limbs, and then laid back down on the bed with a long, cathartic sigh. "Perhaps once we reach Defiance Bay, we can get a clearer picture of what the day-to-day animancy trade is really like. Until then, I must, in good conscience, reserve all judgment on the subject."

"A wise choice, but a laborious one. Never let it be said that our Watcher takes the easy way out!" Kana rose from his seat as he spoke, seeing that the orlan was getting ready to settle in for the night, and crossed the room to his loaner bed. "Speaking of hardships, I've heard tell that the poor weather over the last few days may have delayed the work on Caed Nua's eastern barbican. If, once we return, we find that to be the case... and if you're amenable to a bit of dungeon crawling after all this fresh air and sunshine..."

Axa half-groaned and half-laughed, like a good-natured mother finally losing patience with her annoying toddler. "Yes, Kana, I promise we will explore the Endless Paths. I already promised you before, too, remember?"

"Forgive me!" Kana chuckled as he reclined, his feet dangling over the edge of the too-small bed. "I don't mean to wheedle you, rest assured. But once I get an idea in my head, I tend to focus on it so intently as to neglect politesse!"

"We've noticed," Aloth grumbled.

The massive aumaua turned to Aloth in the bed next to his, smiling still. "That reminds me-- I've never heard that one before, 'slick-a-britches'. Did you mean to say I slicken others' breeches-- or britches, as you say-- or did you mean my own breeches are slick? As in, ah, lubricated for easier removal? I didn't even know you spoke Hylspeak! You must teach me some!" He wore no malice on his face, only open, honest wonder, and for some reason that bothered Aloth more than if the aumaua had been outwardly hostile.

Axa cackled maniacally in her bed, thrashing her limbs and rolling about. Aloth slowly, deliberately pulled his coverlet up over his chin, then his nose, then his brow. His facial expression did not change.

---

[percywinchester27]

About a boy- Epilogue

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: Feels, mentions of physical abuse and child-trafficking. Did I mention feels?

Characters: Dean and Sam, Bobby, Jody, Cas, Gabriel, Benny and others.

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: This is it, guys! The end of the journey. Looking back, it feels pretty sweet to me. Thank you to everyone who read, liked and commented on the story. You guys kept me going! <3

My immense gratitude to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​​ and @deanssweetheart23​​​​​​​​​​ for beta reading this story <3 You both are absolute gems and I love you!

About a boy masterlist   

One year later

11th September 1995

“You idjits!” Bobby yelled. “You two had one job!”

Dean came running around the corner hoping that his face wasn’t too red, or hair too messy. The one time he got lucky with Jessie Rosenberg, Bobby had to yell for him.

“What now?” He asked, crossly.

“Look at the fascia,” Bobby pointed. “I asked you to fix that thing two weeks ago. Does it look fixed to you?”

“Sam had exams! He barely pulled his head out of the books!”

“And you could have fixed it by yourself.”

Dean looked at the front yard. The tables and pretty lights hanging over the trees transformed it into something completely else. There were frilly table cloths and blooming, pale roses. Even the cars had disappeared. There were so many people milling around in pretty dresses and buttoned up suits. Looking at that no one would be able to tell most of them were cops. And none of those cops were inspecting the case of disrepaired fascia boards.

“C’mon, Bobby,” Dean said. “It’s your wedding. Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife instead of yelling at unsuspecting boys? You don’t even care about awnings and fascia!”

Bobby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was actually looking a bit funny without the usual baseball cap and the jacket. Though Dean couldn’t say the formal suit look didn’t suit him. He was just not used to seeing it.

Bobby sat down on the porch steps. “Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m just nervous.”

Dean sat down besides him. “Why’re you nervous?  I mean you’ve known Jody forever.”

Bobby made a disgruntled noise. “It’s not that. Everything is moving so fast. You’ll be seventeen in a few months and then Sam will grow up, too. I’ve just gotten so used to you boys being around. Who knows what’s next. College? You both will move on.”

“Oh, come on!” Dean groaned. “Don’t go all sappy on me now. Not you, too!”

“Who else?” Bobby raised his eyebrow.

“Sam,” Dean sighed. “He’s having one of those days again.”

‘One of those days’ was the term Dean and Bobby used to describe Sam’s mood when he felt overwhelmed. During the first week, after Sam had moved in with them, little things startled him. Like how there were no restrictions about bedtime, or how he could choose what food he wanted, and when he wanted to eat. On the first Sunday, Jody surprised them all with movie tickets; Sam was quiet the whole way because he had never been to movies before. The next day they went out to eat. That was a rare phenomenon anyway, but Jody wanted to get to know Sam. Even there he hadn’t talked, barely eaten anything.

That night Dean had found him sitting on the roof.

“You know that Bobby would butcher you if he found you freezing your ass out in the cold, right?” Dean asked, easing himself down on the tiled roof. 

“I’m being a shithead, aren’t I?” Sam said, hiding his face in his arms where they were resting over his knees. “Jody was being so nice, and I just… I screwed up everything.”

“You didn’t screw up shit,” Dean said firmly. “Jody is a lot tougher than you think. You didn’t hurt her feelings. Hell, you should have seen when she was getting to know me…. That was what being a shithead is like.”

“What did you do?”

“The usual. Threw bitchy tantrums, punctured her car and all that.”

“No you didn’t!”

The incredulous look on Sam’s face was hilarious. It was still taking some getting used to; thinking of him as Sam and not Will.

Dean put his hands out, gesturing a ‘yours truly.’ “Yeah, it was a total dick move. It didn’t phase her in the slightest.”

“Mhmm…”

“Don’t worry about it so much, Sam,” Dean said. “We know this is hard for you.”

Sam leaned back against the tiles, staring into the night sky. “You can actually see the stars from down here.,” he said wonderingly. “See that? That’s the first star of the constellation Orion.”

“I suck at stars,” Dean said, leaning back next to his brother. “You’ll have to tell me.”

They lay like that for a long time, Sam talking avidly about all the constellations he knew of, and Dean pretending that he did not.

Bobby gazed ahead into the yard, where Jody was laughing with Sam. He was dressed just like Dean in a matching tux; for the two groomsmen. Bobby’s eyes softened. “That kid really is something. Anyone would have lost their goddamned gourd after going through all that,” Bobby said.

It was an understatement. Sam had become the apple of every teacher’s eye. He aced his classes effortlessly and the town people just loved him. The little, stupid ray of sunshine that he was. 

“C’mon.” Bobby said, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve got something for you kids.”

“What?” Dean asked, getting up.

“Just c’mon.”

Ten minutes later, the four of them, Him, Sam, Bobby and Jody were walking towards the very back of the house. Jody was practically bouncing on her feet which was so uncharacteristic of her.

Sam gave Dean a ‘What’s happening?’ look.

Dean shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“Hey, Bobby, quick question,” Dean said casually. “Are you two gonna bury us in a corner of the property? Cause this sure looks like it.”

“Yeah, sure, smartass,” Jody grinned at him. “I’ll make sure no one finds the bodies.”

Most of the cars had been parked out here, clearing the front yard. Only one car stood out, parked separately. She was so sleek and slender, the black metal almost purred.

“Holy shit!” Dean whistled. “What in name of…”

“It’s yours!” Bobby smiled widely. “It’s a 1967, Chevy Impala.”

“Wait!” Dean said, the realisation suddenly hitting him. “This car is from that picture. The one with mom and dad.”

“It belonged to your dad. He called her baby.”

Dean looked at Sam who had the same awed expression on his face.

“Where was it all these years?” Sam asked.

“Parked at Rufus’,” Bobby said. “Been working on it as and when the money and time came by. I wanted it done before the wedding. He drove it back today.”

Dean ran his fingers along the side of her, and the car seemed to respond to his touch… hummed under it.

Bobby held out a set of keys. “What’re you waiting for? Don’t you boys wanna take her out for a ride?”

*********************************

2nd November 1995

It was a clear day. The sky was blue like in one of those vacation postcards. The engine was purring underneath him and a Led Zeppelin song was playing inside his car. Dean rolled the windows down, the air whipped Sam’s hair all over his face. He made a protesting sound and Dean chuckled.

This was perfect.

“You sure this was a good idea? Not the trip,” Sam said quickly. “Just sneaking out like this without telling Bobby?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was ever the responsible one. 

“Bobby will be fine. We’re almost there; and if we stick to the plan, we should be back home for dinner, and no one will be wiser.

Sam huffed. “I miss Cas when you get like this. He was the only one who could get you to listen.”

“Don’t you want to go?”

“Course I do. You know I asked for this!” Sam muttered.

Dean missed Cas anyway. Thinking about his best friend made Dean smile. Because of what he had accomplished- helped with exposing the trafficking racket- the state had given him a medal of valour, along with Benny and Gabriel. Deny had detached himself from the proceedings, asking Jody to never mention him in the official records. He wasn’t interested in medals and accolades. He had walked away with a miracle of his own.

The mayor, wanting to bask in the borrowed glory, had funded Cas’s education in a private boarding school for his last year of high school. From there, Cas had managed a full ride into the University of Texas. Benny had opted out to get a job under some chef… who knew he had that talent? And Gabriel was in the wind. Dean didn’t worry about Gabe, though. He would eventually surface as a millionaire in some years for all Dean knew.

Thinking about them always brought up bad memories along with the nostalgia. Memories about Andy and the Stynes. It was little comfort knowing that they had been put away for life… they deserved much, much worse. Dean was hopeful that other states might press more severe charges on the Stynes. 

Despite what it had looked like, it turned out that Michael had been the only one who knew. His cronies had no clue what their dear leader had been upto. Dean couldn’t care less about what happened to Gary and others as long as he never saw their faces again. Michael had been tried as a juvenile, and the DA had asked for a reduced sentence on the grounds that he was the one who had finally led them to the warehouse. He would serve 3 years in confinement. Even after all this time, Dean didn’t know what to feel about Michael. He tried not to think about it much.

Cas though, called them at least once a week. More, if he could manage. He and Sam had road tripped to the University in the fall and spent a week with him. Cas had been ecstatic. Dean wasn’t surprised to know that his friend was majoring in sociology and behavioral sciences. If anything, he was proud. Cas would be spending the winter break with them in Sioux falls. Bobby had been cranky about having to repair their guest room, but Dean secretly knew he was happy for them all.

“We’re here!” Dean said, as they crossed into the town. Sam stared out of the window, palms flat against the glass.

Dean made a few stops to ask for directions, and then they were parked along the edge of the sidewalk.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Dean asked apprehensively. Nevermind that he was feeling heavy inside, he couldn’t let his brother see that.

Sam bit his lip, then nodded resolutely. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

They stepped out of the car, and Dean wrapped his arm over his brother's shoulder. He’d  gained a couple of inches during the summer, so Sam was both much shorter than him, and mad about it. ‘I’m gonna grow taller than you, one day,’ he’d say.

Dean didn’t know exactly where they were, so he and Sam walked together, searching and reading.

“Dean,” Sam said in a small voice. “They’re here.”

The headstones were laid side by side.

Mary Winchester

5th December 1954 - 2nd November 1983

Loving Mother and loving wife

And

John Winchester

22nd April 1954 - 2nd Novemeber 1983

Loving Father and loving husband

Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s shoulder. 

“I think they would be proud of you,” Sam said, not taking his eyes away from the plain grey stones. They had weathered with rain and time, the writing had blackened over the years.

“Hey, you’re the smart one,” Dean said. The corner of his eyes were prickling. “If anything, they’d have been proud of you.”

Sam shook his head ever so slightly in disagreement. “You saved my life. Twice. You found me and kept our family going. You’re a freaking hero.”

Dean blinked his eyes in succession. He didn’t dispute Sam’s words. Not because he believed them, but because he didn’t trust his voice to be steady. He hadn’t even thought of getting flowers.

“You think we should say something?”

Dean shrugged, he didn't know what to say and he was bad with words.

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Sam said, then kneeled by their mom’s grave.

“Hey, mom. Hey, dad,” he said in that soft voice of his. “It’s me, Samuel William Winchester. Though Dean just calls me ‘Sammy.’ It’s annoying. He’s annoying!” Sam laughed nervously, like he was afraid of what their mom would think about him dissing his older brother like that. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you, to sit besides you… to ever have a family…. I do now, and it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. But I miss you. I’ve always missed you even when I didn’t know who you were.”

Sam cleared his throat, “I guess… I guess what I’m saying is thank you… for giving me the best big brother in the world. Dean’s awesome. I love you so much. All of you.”

He looked up then, tears swimming in his eyes and Dean placed a hand over his head.

They stayed there for a while, soaking the moment in. When it was time to go, Dean touched the cold stones, first his dad’s and then mom’s. He brought the fingers to his lips and kissed them in a discreet gesture.

They walked back to the car in silence. 

When Dean started the engine, Sam gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Dean, for bringing me here.”

“Course,” he said, eyes on the road. 

Sam settled back against the leather seat and hit the play on music. The song continued from where it had stopped-

….Cause I'm back on the track

And I'm beatin' the flack

Nobody's gonna get me on another rap

So look at me now

I'm just makin' my play

Don't try to push your luck, just get out of my way

'Cause I'm back

Yes,…

“Let’s get back home now,” Sam said contentedly, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the song.

Dean gave his brother a sideways glance. He had a small smile playing on his lips. In their dad’s old car, with his brother by his side, Dean was already home.

*********************************

Source for the gif used at the top

A/N 2: I cried while writing the epilogue, too! Especially the last part. When I started writing this series about a year ago, I did it as a challenge to myself... deep down knowing that this wouldn’t ever hit off on tumblr like my other series’ had. But I owed it to myself to write a story I believed in, and the love that you guys gave this series was so overwhelming. Y’all ROCK! :*

Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? 

Tagging for the last time:

@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia  @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold  @bobbie3939  @samsexualdeancurious​ @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba  @cookiechipdough​ @wildfirewinchester​

[hardyimagines]

Scarred

———————————————————————

Hi there can I get anything to do with season 5 alfie feeling insecure about his face and thinking his s/o would no longer love him😫can be fluffy or nsfw or both🌚it’s honestly up to you, thanks! xx

( not my gif, credit to the rightful owner )

———————————————————————

“I thought the doctor said the bullet wasn’t even close to your brain?” You murmured from your knelt position on the tattered sofa. Hunched over your boyfriend, you sat on your knees with your fingertips lazily tracing the length of his soft skin. You were caressing the parts of his face that weren’t injured, careful not to get too close to the tissue that was still healing. Alfie was speechless now, merely furrowing his brows in a cute expression of pure confusion. He pressed his lips together, beard poking out just a little further than normal because of the action. When you made no movement to speak any further though, the man adjusted himself on the sofa beneath you, grumbling incoherently before he spoke up audibly.

“You fucking what? Bullet, yeah went through my cheek, here, didn’t it, yeah, so..” Alfie lifted his hand. Placing his palm over the scarred part of his face, he set his elbow on the arm of the furniture and pretended to be leaning instead of merely hiding. His want to finish his sentence was cut short when you parted your lips and began to talk over him.

“Well you’re asking foolish questions so I’m just trying to make sure a little piece of that bullet didn’t somehow hit your brain.” Lifting your hand to the side of his head, you brushed your thin fingertips through his soft locks, lazily stroking his scalp before you grabbed ahold of his wide palm and removed it from his face.

“Pet,” Alfie’s voice deepened considerably. “I made a fucking statement, right?”

“Then you asked for my opinion.” You pointed out. Shaking your head because the man was actually beginning to frustrate you, you laid your hands back on his cheeks and turned his head toward you fully. “I don’t think you’re ugly in the slightest.”

Prior to this, Alfie had been shying away, poorly attempting to hide the scar on his face because he knew what he looked like — he knew he was hideous. He wasn’t sure why you were pretending to still find him attractive or why you were sitting at his side, knelt so close to him with that doe-eyed look.

“You wouldn’t fucking tell me the truth, right, why on earth would you agree to that. See, yeah, because you’re fucking dating me, I can’t hear you agreeing to me saying I look fucking disgusting. Right, and I wasn’t exactly the most handsome beforehand so this fucking scar has really gone and fucked me over hasn’t it?”

It was almost impossible to swallow down the amusement bubbling in your stomach. Alfie really was an idiot.

In all honesty, you didn’t see a damn thing wrong. Of course, you preferred Alfie without the bullet wound — but that was only because the scar was a reminder that he’d been shot by someone he’d considered to be a mate for a while.. someone who could very well come back and try and finish him off. It reminded you that Alfie lived a very dangerous life and he could be taken from you at any given moment. Your fingers twitched and then tensed, falling from his warm cheeks instead to the thick fabric of his coat. Clutching on to it, you wiggled closer. Appearance wise, it didn’t affect you at all. You knew it ordinarily should’ve, you should’ve been somewhat repelled by the scarring that lined half of his face.. you knew anybody would be a little hesitant or distracted. That was normal.. what wasn’t normal was finding the man even more handsome. There was still no flaw, despite the one staring you dead in the face.

The realization of why you still found Alfie to be as attractive as he was dawned on you. And it simultaneously scared you and excited you.

You loved him.

The space between the two of you vanished. Placing your small hands on the back of his hot neck, you drew him forward and into you so you could kiss his rambling lips. He went silent instantly, apart from the little hums of enjoyment that escaped him subconsciously. Alfie relaxed against the cushions, tense muscles growing to be loose. Your mouth was slow, soft, careful as it moved against his own. He could tell you weren’t just kissing him, you were trying to tell him something without having to use your words. He almost smiled against your lips, but found it easy to bite back when your tongue pried past your plump, pink mouth to venture into his own.

“I’m sorry.. Mr Solomons?” The woman he’d hired to keep his home tidy poked her head into the small den. Accidentally ruining the little moment the pair of you had been sharing, she brushed her fingers along the length of the doorway — a shy action to relieve some of the awkwardness her presence had created. “I’m all finished.” Right after the accident, you’d hired Emily to help out around Alfie’s. He wasnt capable of making dinner or keeping his house clean, he was always so tired from the medication he was on and stressed because he worried about Cyril and his business. You were busy with work on weekdays so it was really only at night, when you shared his bed, and on weekends that you got to spend a lot of time with the handsome man.

Prying yourself out of his secure grip, you brushed your fingers through your hair and inhaled deeply before looking in the woman’s direction. You’d helped pick her. She was very sweet, kept to herself, did her duties and then went on her way. Alfie let out a hoarse grunt before nodding his head once in her direction. His thick fingers ran along the length of your back, caressing it before he stood from his slouched position on the sofa.

“I’ll be paying you tomorrow, yeah, instead of on Friday. Going out of town that day, remember, fuck ton of stuff I need to get done.” The man shoved his hand into the deep pocket that lined his trousers. Dragging the gray slip of paper which had all her hours written on it, he shook the flimsy thing before setting it down on the desk so he could write down her hours for the day.

You shuffled on the couch. He wasn’t going anywhere. You thought it was cute, how much he wanted to go back to work and resume with where things had left off, but that was too risky. You weren’t going to let him go off to Camden Town, tell everyone he’d returned from the dead and then let Tommy Shelby show up announced to put another bullet wound on the opposite side of his face. Your lips twitched south, heart sliding down, down, down and into your tight stomach. The second Emily had confirmed he’d written down the right amount of hours, she grasped her coat from the rack in the corner and sent a short wave in your direction. You tipped your head toward her sweetly, but the kind gesture didn’t match the worried expression on your face. You didn’t want anything to happen to Alfie.

Rising from the couch, you crossed the length of the room without hesitation and while the man was tucking the piece of paper away in his pocket, you slipped your arms around his waist and nestled your front against his broad back, catching him offguard. Alfie stiffened for a moment before peering over his shoulder and down at your sweet face. Your lower lip was pouted, eyes big and watery as you gazed up at him. Try as he might, you both knew when Friday came around, he’d be lounging in the armchair and you’d be perched on his lap — no care in the world to hold your own job if it meant ensuring Alfie wasn’t getting into any trouble.

He twisted around and locked his strong arms around your small shoulders. Holding you against him securely, his mouth skimmed the top of your head. He’d never be able to understand why you cared about him so much or why you were so eager to stick around. His unanswered questions though, were about to be answered. Those three words were burning the tip of your tongue, but you took your time blurting them out.. your heart was beating so fast and your tongue felt swollen.

Alfie, in all honesty, hadn’t expected you to hang around after he was pronounced dead. Nobody else had come around, banging on the door of a deceased man. But you had. And you’d come daily, hitting the wood with your tightly curled fist in order to just be around Alfie’s belongings. The scent was comforting, the familiarity of his home. He was in the hospital, unbeknownst to you and you were curled up on his sofa, unbeknownst to him. Before he had a maid, it was easy to sneak into his home, knocking cautiously beforehand to ensure nobody was inside — cleaning it out, ridding of his things. Then one day, you’d come around and when you’d knocked, the gangster had answered. He was stood broad and tall with a hard expression on his face. He looked worn and exhausted, much paler than you’d remembered. You’d both been speechless for what felt like forever.

“Pet?” Alfie drew you from your thoughts. The words you’d been about to confess were forgotten for a moment. He was staring at you with such care glistening in those enrapturing blue eyes of his. You sent him a soft smile before leaning up on your tiptoes to steal a very soft kiss. “Alright?”

“Hm?” You nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?” You felt like you were suddenly floating. The man in front of you was all yours and it was only hitting you now what that truly meant. Before this whole ordeal, when Alfie was going to work and his face was void of any scar, things had felt like they were just for fun. The pair of you fooled around, despite where you were, on the job, at the park, at home, it didn’t matter. Course, it didn’t feel like your relationship was strictly sex, but you hadn’t exactly envisioned being tied down to this man at any point. Now here you were, swallowing thickly in order to silence the heavily hammering beat of your heart. Nothing had ever been casual between the two of you. The minute he’d invited you around, it should’ve been a given that your heart was being given over to him. You didn’t do casual things. Casual sex wasn’t who you were. You were too emotionally invested in people. In him.

“Alfie,” You whispered breathily, when your head was beginning to pulsate from all the raging thoughts. You tipped your head back in order to see him fully, stomach twisting nervously despite the fact that you were sure he returned the feelings. “Alfie, I love you.” You told him softly. The whisper was almost inaudible, but he’d heard you clearly. His hands was delicately tracing your warm skin, absentmindedly caressing your soft flesh before he stilled at your confession. His mouth ran dry and his face felt hot. He knew the words weren’t too surprising, he’d been waiting to hear them for forever.. but now that you’d actually said them, it made everything all the more real. He blinked once and then twice, before his fingers resumed their soft strokes. You shivered beneath the warmth of his fingertips and the cold graze of his rings.

“Bout fucking time you told me, innit?” He joked. The man’s grip tightened in only the slightest so he could securely drag you into him. Your chest hit his silently as you lifted your arms in order to wound them around his neck. He grunted breathily, hunching forward in the slightest so his mouth could brush your cheek. “I love you.” He murmured. His breath tickled the side of your neck, and his words made your heart skip a beat. You let out a quiet sigh of delight before turning your head and catching his lips for a slow kiss.

His pink lips were warm and wet as they moved against your own. He laid his hand on the back of your head, holding you in place so he could kiss you as deeply as he pleased. He always took the lead and you always followed his every movement with your own. Alfie took a small step back, waiting patiently for you to follow along with him. It didn’t take long at all, your body was practically glued to his own, desperate to remain close and refusing to part for too long. He fell back on the arm chair and you collapsed instantly on his lap. Straddling his thighs with a slow smile and a shaky exhale, you broke the kiss long enough to sit up. Setting your hands on the arms of the furniture, you peered down at the man before biting on your bottom lip. Nothing felt as nice as telling someone you love them, and being told they felt the exact same.

Your fingertip lifted to the scar on his face and without hesitation, you caressed the tender space. He didn’t wince or flinch, for he felt comfortable and safe beneath your touch. You felt him stiffen momentarily, a sign he wanted to turn away and hide the impossible to remove patch of skin. You leaned in and kissed the space, reminding him that though he may feel self conscious about the injury, it didn’t bother you at all. Kissing up to his forehead, you drew his head forward and into your chest, cradling him as if he were a small child. You kissed his brown locks, ruffling them momentarily. His hair was shorter than it use to be. You used to almost suffocate between his shaggy brown strands when the pair of you made love. Now, it was short and easy to escape when you brushed your face against the top. Smiling to yourself, you pulled him in just a little closer.

“I love you.” You whispered into his strands before drawing back and hiding your face against his shoulder. He locked you in his embrace then, securely trapping you in place. You didn’t mind, neither of you going to be willing to move for a while.

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A/N: I feel sick, and I know this is absolutely shitty.

@peakblogbecauseimweak @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @pansexualginger @heyitscam99 @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @bignastyfan-nz @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @baliadelcuore @lonewolf471 @crldrr @keeleyella @overitall2018 @lovebitesimagines @eddieisasnack @axxl-rose @slytherintothedeep @lucreziaborgiatheunholyfamily @demoncrypt1066 @captainbuckyboobear

[aloha-cowgirl]

Just My Type

I know I promised you fluff, @narraukoiel but this is what came out. 

Read it on AO3.

-

Dean chuckled into his beer as he watched Sam across the room putting his best moves on the prettiest girl-next-door type in the place.

“Look at’m go, Cas. That used to be me, y’know. Different town, different girl...”

“I’m aware,” Castiel answered. The tone of annoyance in his voice made Dean grin.

“Aw, c’mon, Cas. What about you? I mean, look at you…” Dean had to stop himself from adding you’re freakin’ hot and he felt the warmth of a blush creeping into his cheeks. “You must’ve been ruffling some feathers up in Heaven.”

Castiel glared at him. The danger behind that icy stare steered Dean away from the subject.

“Alright, then...” He gestured at the people that crowded the barroom. “What’s your type?”

Castiel raised one questioning brow. “My type?”

“Yeah, you know, your type. Like, what do you find attractive? What do you like?” Dean slid his stool a little closer so that they were elbow to elbow. “Okay, look at her, right there. The one in the blue.” He pointed toward a curvy blonde in a tight dress chatting with a shy-looking man at the corner of the bar. “Do you find her attractive?”

Castiel studied the woman, probably for too long because Dean was already beginning to think this was a stupid conversation and he wanted Castiel to stop already.

“She’s confident. I suppose that’s attractive,” Castiel finally said, eyes still squinted in her direction. “But the man she’s talking to has much more attractive qualities.”

Dean choked on his beer. “That—That’s, uh, not exactly what I expected,” he coughed, “but, uh, go on.”

“I’m doing something wrong,” Castiel said, looking disappointed.

Dean felt like a jerk for putting that look on his face. “No, Cas, not at all. I was just expecting ‘hot blonde with a nice bod,’ or something. Your stuff’s better though. Keep going. Tell me about the guy.”

Castiel surveyed Dean’s face a moment before deciding to continue. “He’s kind. Charitable. He cares a great deal about his family. He visits his grandmother every weekend.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle and smile at his friend. “Alright, then. So, Cas likes a family man.”

The angel just shrugged and took a swig of his beer while Dean scanned the room again.

“Okay, what about her?” He pointed the neck of his bottle toward a curly-haired woman nursing a cocktail as she sat alone at a table.  

“She’s intelligent. Almost as passionate about her books as you are about your music.” He hesitated a moment before continuing with a tiny smile. “She’s brave.”

“Smart, brave, passionate, family man,” Dean listed. “—or woman.”

“I suppose I do have a ‘type,’” Castiel said, more to himself than Dean, though Dean’s stomach was doing somersaults for some reason.                                                                          

“So, what about him?” Dean asked, nodding toward a dark-haired man chatting up four giggling women. The man was gorgeous with perfectly tanned skin and luxurious wavy hair that’d make Sam envious.

Castiel turned to look at the man, but quickly rolled his eyes and looked back at Dean. “I believe he’s more your type than mine.”

This time Dean didn’t choke. Nope, this time he actually spit his beer out all over the counter, much to the chagrin of the bartender. Dean reached across the bar to swipe a towel from the counter behind it and mopped up the mess as he tried and failed to sound casual, “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“He’s physically attractive, but doesn’t have much substance,” Castiel said snidely, ignoring the disaster beside him. “I believe those are your preferred attributes.”

Dean froze, hurt. “Is that really what you think?”

Castiel’s eyes widened as he stared apologetically at his friend. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I said it.”

They fell quiet for a while, both doubling up on their alcohol until Sam found his way back to them.

“What’s wrong with you two?” he asked as he approached.

Dean glanced at Castiel and decided to ignore the question. “Hey, Sammy. How’s it going with your, uh, new friend?”

Sam ran his hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “Um, actually, that’s what I was coming to tell you. Lauren and I are gonna take off. I, uh, I’ll meet up with you guys in the morning. Don’t wait up.”

“That’s my boy,” Dean said. “Have fun, Sammy. Don’t be dumb.”

Castiel nodded to Sam. “She seems like a good person, Sam. Have a good time. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sam gave them a quick smile and bid them goodnight before he and Lauren disappeared through the door.

After a few more minutes of being lost in his thoughts, Dean pushed away his almost empty beer bottle.

“Hey, Cas, you wanna get out of here?”

Castiel looked at him curiously but shrugged. “Okay.”

Dean didn’t really have anywhere else to go, but he knew he didn’t feel like sitting in silence in this busy bar anymore, and he wasn’t ready to go back to the motel yet—it promising to be a long and awkward night without Sam as a buffer. When they reached the parking lot, instead of heading to the Impala, Dean led Castiel toward the sidewalk. The angel still looked curious but didn’t comment as they walked along the dark street and into a well-manicured park down the block.

“You know, you’ve got it all wrong, Cas,” Dean said as they rounded the duck pond. He appreciated that Castiel wouldn’t bother pretending not to know what he was talking about.

“Dean, I told you, I didn’t mean—”

“Y’know, just because I sleep with them… that doesn’t mean they’re what I’d call ‘my type,’” Dean rattled on, determined to set Castiel straight. “I mean, I have standards. Besides, they don’t even really know me. They just see me as this mysterious stranger that they’ll never see again and I—”

“Dean, I was jealous.”

They both stopped walking and Dean had seemingly lost the ability to speak. He watched as Cas stuck his fingers into his hair in frustration, making it stand even more than it usually did.

“Dean, I know you. I know who you are, inside and out. I know you’re a brave, kind man. You are passionate and stubborn and confident. You’re sensitive, even though you don’t show it. You love your family and you would sooner put yourself in harm’s way than see them suffer even a little. You’re incredibly smart even though you don’t always believe it. Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And you chose them.”

The passion in Castiel’s voice died out and he dropped down onto a bench. “I—I didn’t know for a long time why I always assumed they were terrible humans, not until I became human myself. Then I realized it wasn’t them that I hated at all… It was your choosing them that I hated.”

Dean felt lightheaded and his heart had probably stopped beating for an unhealthy amount of time now. He was still frozen to the spot, letting Castiel’s confession wash over him. He expected himself to go into a panic or to at least freak out in some kind of way, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt unusually calm. Relieved, even.

But then, Dean Winchester works best under pressure.

He stood in front of Castiel with his arms crossed. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Castiel looked up, confused. “What?”

Dean sat beside him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he fidgeted his fingers. “You didn’t let me finish telling you what my type really is.” His tone was calm but his heart was racing.

“Oh,” was all Castiel could manage, but his eyes were locked on Dean.

“My type is stubborn. But willing to bend the rules if it’s for the right reasons. Loyal to a fault. Maybe a little dry with the humor,” he added with a smile. “He knows me. Calls me on my shit. He never puts himself first, even though, to me, he’s one of the most important people on Earth—or Heaven. And definitely Hell. That’s where it all started, after all.” He locked onto Castiel’s icy blue eyes looking for understanding. “He’s the kind of person that can make me fall in love with him without even realizing it.”

“It almost sounds like you’re talking about someone specific,” Castiel said carefully.

Dean gave him a little smirk. “Apparently my type’s a little slow on the uptake, too.”

Castiel smiled back as Dean leaned in to kiss him. It was soft and slow at first—a promise of things to come—then deepening into something more heated.

When they broke apart, Dean hummed, his heart filled with content. Castiel leaned in again, placing a single peck on the lobe of Dean’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. But that was nothing compared to the gruff whisper that made Dean thankful they’d have their motel room to themselves that night: “Just my type.”

[tuesdayhatersammylovermishamigo]

Dean's drunk, Cas's high, Sam's both.

It's three hours into Sam's twenty-first birthday, and the three of them are sitting on the floor in a circle - or a fucking triangle, excuse me - with alcohol, cigarettes, and all their issues in front of them, like they're ready to give in.

Like they're celebrating not having given up.

"Wasn't even s'posed'a make it." Sam lets out, the eyes he rests on his brother and best friend, lidded and bloodshot. "I was so fucking sure I'd have killed myself by now." He has all his weight propped against one hand, palm pressed to the floor, and his legs are crossed distractedly at the calves. He's wearing a godforsaken graphic tee, which is too goddamn short-sleeved, making his biceps even more prominent under the weight of the rest of him.

There's a whiskey glass full of vodka in his other hand.

"As if I'd fucking let you." Dean barks, from his left. He's leaning against the wall, with his knees casually drawn up and just his heels on the ground, and he's got one hand holding his head, and the other, a beer bottle.

"It's my life." Sam hisses at him, glaring.

"Yeah, well, up yours." Dean growls back, and that might have made almost no sense at all, but Sam seethes instead of scoffing at him.

"Do either of you want to kill yourselves tonight?" Cas asks, pulling both brothers out of their reverie. He's the only one sitting up straight, if also slumped, cross-legged with both hands gripping his ankles, in a hippie shirt and loose palazzos. There's a crazed something in his eyes, but it's grown to be common these days.

Neither Sam, nor Dean say a word, or shake their heads.

"Well, then." Cas declares, solemnly. "Let's play a game."

"So you want us to want to kill ourselves?" Dean states dryly, but there's no real bite in his voice. Cas returns his frown with a non-commital smirk.

"I'll play." Sam declares, arms crossed.

And it's his birthday, so that's how it goes.

***

"Let's make it as chick-flick-y as is possible, Sam." Cas tells him, eyes gleaming with mischief, because that's undoubtedly Dean's cue to grumble, when Sam agrees wholeheartedly. The two of them ganging up unanimously over annoying him, is the best known way of pushing all of his buttons.

But tonight, it doesn't work.

"You know what, guys? Bring it."

Maybe it's the ambience. Or maybe, it's just the goddamn alcohol.

"Or rather, I'll start." Dean adds, almost boasting. He turns to Sam unceremoniously, swatting his knee so Sam's scowling at him. "So, Sammy? Truth or truth?" It is his little brother's birthday after all.

They've done away with the dares, because none of them are in the correct state of mind to deliver reasonable dares, or turn down unreasonable ones.

"It's Sam." Sam throws back, legs resolutely stuck to the ground, as if Dean's resolve to irritate him hadn't gotten on his nerves.

Dean exaggeratedly rolls his eyes.

"The first one." Sam concedes, raising his eyebrows.

"Cool." Dean grins at him, like he's about to get really proud of himself. "This one turns out to be a real classic, Sammy." Sam makes a face at the name, but doesn't interrupt. "Who was your first real crush?"

Cas snickers from the side, mostly directed at Dean, and smirk so devastatingly Cas. "That's perfect, Dean."

"What can I say? I've got skills." Dean winks at him, and Cas holds his gaze steadily through it, which makes it relatively more awkward than it should've been. Goddamn Cas. He's going to pin the flushed cheeks to the being very, very drunk, anyways.

Sam clears his throat. It's his spotlight after all. But he looks uncomfortable, nonetheless.

That's remarkable, considering he's smoked at least three fourths as much as Cas has, and drank half the alcohol as Dean. Retaining the capacity to be mortified over something that hasn't even been said yet, is a felicitous commitment to self-loathing.

"I'm actually curious now," Dean purrs, sounding way too much like he actually means it.

Cas hums, agreeing.

"I -" Sam swallows. He looks like he's made a decision to wing it, when he clears his throat a second time, more violent, and rushes stumbling through the rest of his sentence. "It - it's just - it's Cas, okay?"

"Really?" Cas pipes up, a suaveness lining his voice, just like that. There might even have been a flirty edge to it. Sam doesn't match his stare, or even his brother's, choosing to drown his embarrassment in his half-filled vodka.

"Yeah, really?" Dean repeats, but he drags it out in an uninebriated slur. "Give us some details, man. C'mon." He nudges Sam's knee again, this time with his elbow, and Sam turns to scowl ineffectively at him.

"I was thirteen, okay?" He begins, smally. "And you were seventeen, and you were sixteen," His eyes move around the room from Dean to Cas, but don't settle on any faces. Not really. "And Cas had already been around for a couple years at that point, and he was all kinds of awesome, and it's not like I was going to do something about it, because I was just your best friend's brother, and you two were attached at the hip, or something," There's no bite in his voice. But a hint of sullenness. "But I may have lied to some classmates about Cas being my boyfriend, at some point."

"What?" Cas sounds genuinely humored.

"You were always 'round the house, anyways." Sam looks guiltily at the man, who preens a little, regardless of the fact that his absentee-father is being hinted at. "Sure, you stayed put in Dean's room, but - I don't know, okay? You were always nice to me, and helped me with projects, and just seemed really cute - and I was thirteen."

"A useless piece of information which doesn't change the fact that you were into Cas." Dean snorts, and Sam buries his face in his hand. "I mean, I kinda suspected, but your first, Sammy? That's a big deal."

"No, it isn't." Sam mutters.

"Kinda is." Cas laughs, and even the sound of it is so different from regular Cas. It's a good thing he's high - he probably won't even remember it tomorrow.

"Seriously. Screw you both."

"You sure you don't wanna get in on the Cas bit of it?" Dean teases, though he doesn't sound particularly passionate about it, so Sam just glares at him darkly before dropping the matter.

"I'll go next," Cas announces, a few minutes later. They've drank more, and smoked more, and done more questions, but nothing's been exactly striking. Until now. "Dean."

Dean waits. "Yeah?"

"Who was your last real crush?"

"You guys say real like I'm going to say Doctor Sexy and move past it," Dean complains, almost immediately.

"You could do that." Sam returns, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'm not going to." Dean's way too past his limit to actually care. He's been drinking for at least eight years now, but sometimes he gets like this, where he might not sound drunk, but internally, he's wrecked. It makes him loose-lipped, on a good day.

"So?"

"S'you." Dean turns to Cas, and there's no shit-eating grin playing on his face or anything. Sam does a doubletake, at the side, but toned down enough for Dean not to look away from Cas's eyes.

"You had a crush on - me?" Cas purses his lips.

Dean raises his eyebrows, almost defiantly. But it's a yes. Just as though he's asking if Cas has a problem with it.

And truth be told, Cas really doesn't look like he does. Sure, his eyes are flitting in Sam's direction more than required, but he doesn't seem entirely put off by the idea in any case.

"And you tried to give me crap, when you're into him too." Sam cuts in, solely to Dean, his voice a little harsh. "Jerk."

"Thirteen, bitch." Dean doesn't give up without a fight. "You were thirteen when you were into him."

"I thought that wasn't relevant." Sam paraphrases Dean's own words.

"Of course it is!" Dean puts his beer down on the floor, and straightens. "Being a teenager and in love with my best friend is always going to be something I laugh at."

"Well, I'm not a teenager anymore." Sam grits his teeth, and there's something hidden behind his words, which entirely escapes Dean, and pretty much escapes Sam too, but doesn't get past Cas.

"We know." Cas interjects, having been quiet for too long. Even in the perturbed surroundings, he's smiling easily - a little, like he's not doing it on purpose, like he couldn't rein it in if he even tried, so he's given up trying. Or some other meditation, nirvana, or inner happiness crap. "You're twenty one, which is why we're here. Which is why we're playing. Which is why it's my turn now, and you two are not allowed to fight."

They weren't fighting, Dean's going to say, but Sam's turned all his attention towards Cas now, his body language changed, and Dean all but does the same, minus the heart-eyes.

He's hoping, anyways.

"What do we ask you?" Sam wonders aloud, biting his lip, and inadvertently relishes the way Cas's eyes follow it.

"Yeah, we're done with firsts and lasts." Dean snorts. "Want to choose a favorite real middle?"

"Fuck you." Cas smiles at Dean, serenely, and it's beautiful.

"Wait, I know what to ask." Sam interrupts, eyes wide.

"He's channelling his inner thirteen year old." Dean mutters, quiet enough that none of them pays attention to it.

Cas just turns to Sam.

"What's the last big thing you learned about yourself?"

The corner of Cas's lip curls. He doesn't beat around the bush, like either of the Winchesters, because he's Cas, and those are the little things which make him perfect.

"I'm polyamorous." He declares, in under twenty seconds of pondering, a lot of which was spent looking at both - the fascinating curl of Dean's eyelashes when he looked at Cas, and Sam's abused lower lip.

"Oh." Dean utters, and Sam's mouth forms as if going to repeat the same.

But apparently, Cas isn't done. "Ah, I don't think that's fair. That was last Thursday. I learned something big tonight, too."

Sam licks his lips, and Dean stares at him hungrily. "And what's that?"

"I may be ineffably, unexplainably, and irrevocably in love with the both of you?"

Both Winchesters can't do anything but gawk.

"And it might be a mutual thing." He adds, a little unsure, yet a little smug, and his eyes blatantly drag across the room to span the both of them, and along both their forms, until he's startled by sudden movement.

Sam moves first, jerking hurriedly until he's in Cas's space, and then somehow he's gotten a hand on his hip and the other slung loosely around his neck while he dips in to kiss him, and Cas groans as he returns as passionately as he gets. There's a shuffle of fabric and glass hitting the ground but not shattering, when Dean growls and joins them, pressing his own lips to Cas's neck, hand on his other hip, and starts to drag his mouth filthily along his jaw.

"Dean," Cas heaves, craning his neck so Dean can pepper more kisses, more conveniently, to his neck and shoulders, since Sam's already unbuttoned his shirt enough for Dean to push it past his shoulder. And the head tilt makes it easier for him to moan into Sam's mouth, desperate, and wonderful. "Sam!"

"You're so fucking perfect, Cas," Sam grunts, almost as if it hurts, when he pulls away for breath. "So perfect for us."

Tending to his own agenda as he trails down Cas's sternum, Dean agrees enthusiastically. "And to hell with may - fucking hell with might." He hooks his fingers in Castiel's waistband, and pulls, whilst Sam grabs into Cas's face with both his hands, and kisses him breathless like it's going out of style. "We love you."

"And you love us too."

***

They get off the floor eventually, and should have been trying to make it to the bed, but end up losing it, the moment they're in the bedroom. Sam ends up fucking Cas, slow, and to Cas repeatedly moaning out names and praise and curses, and everything, and he does it right against Dean instead of a wall, so basically Sam gets to take Cas apart, and Cas comes apart writhing against Dean and clinging onto him because his knees gave up a long time ago.

They climax almost at the same time, with Sam coming first, thrusting erratically through it, and then Dean and Cas tieing up for a close second, with Dean's hands wrapped around both of their cocks, and a mixture of blasphemous curses and their lovers' names on all of their breaths.

Later, they fall in bed together, entwined. It's unclear who cuddles who, and it doesn't really matter because everyone is warm and comfortable and satisfied, but in the morning, Sam wakes up as middle spoon.

I mean, it is his birthday, after all.

[hunnywrites]

Arcade Dreams: Chapter Nineteen

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: Who’s ready to see more Hopper? I know I sure am.

It took everyone a week to find out that Billy and Teddi had moved in together. Neither of them were entirely sure how it started. Billy was pretty sure someone at the pool had overheard them talking at work and started the gossip train. At first it was easy for them to ignore. They were living together and they were together...technically. Things in the romance department were complicated. Mostly because they were making them complicated. Teddi didn’t want people knowing they were together. Billy hadn’t understood, but he agreed to keep his hands to himself when they were in public. 

That didn’t stop the gossip. Teddi was sure that there couldn’t be anything going around that was worse than her and Billy running off to get married, or that she was ever in a relationship with Tommy H. She was wrong.

“Teddi!” someone called her in the hall as Teddi walked out of her American history class. It was Heather. Teddi waited for her friend to catch up, smiling sweetly at her. Heather looked like she had seen a ghost. “Are you pregnant?” she asked quietly, looking over her shoulders to make sure no one passing by was listening in. 

“What?” Teddi asked incredulously. “Pregnant? No! Where the hell did you hear that?” 

Heather took Teddi by the arm, pulling her over towards the lockers. The two girls huddled together. “Everyone is saying it. I heard Carol talking about it with Cheryl Burns in math this morning. Carol said that’s why you and Billy moved in together. You got knocked up and his dad was gonna disown him-”

Teddi held up her hands. “Okay, that is so totally not true. I’m not even with Billy-”

“But you really are living together?” Heather asked.

“I mean…” Teddi sighed. “Heather, it’s super complicated, okay? I can explain...eventually, but I’m not dating Billy, and I’m definitely not pregnant.” she assured her. 

Heather let out a loud sigh, like she was relieved by the news. “Good. I mean, no offense but it would totally ruin your life,” Teddi could definitely agree there. “I’ll try and do some damage control. But Tommy H is totally running his mouth about you guys.”

Teddi rolled her eyes. “I don’t doubt that. Thanks, Heather. Seriously.”

Heather only shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s what friends are for. But I wanna know all of the details later.” the look on Heather’s face told Teddi that she wasn’t completely buying all of Teddi’s lies. 

Teddi smiled thinly, nodding. “Deal. I gotta go though. I’ll see you later?”

“Totally. See ya!” Heather threw a wave over her shoulder as the two parted ways. It was almost lunchtime, which meant Billy would be out in the parking lot. Teddi weaved her way through the halls, avoiding the mix of looks the other students were shooting her way and headed out to where the Camaro was parked. Billy drove them to school every morning. They would wake up a little earlier, head to the Hargrove’s to pick up Max and at the end of the day Billy would drop Teddi off at the arcade for her shift. She supposed she could maybe see where some of the rumors were coming from. 

Billy was leaning against the hood of the Camaro, looking off towards the basketball courts and smoking a cigarette. He heard Teddi walking up to him, looking back at her over his shoulder and flashing a grin her way. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he looked back at the parking lot behind Teddi. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he kissed her. 

Teddi felt her cheeks grow hot, looking over her shoulder shyly to make sure no one had seen. “Billy…”

“Yeah, yeah. Low key,” he placed the cigarette between his lips again, watching as Teddi shifted nervously beside him. “...You okay?”

Teddi chewed on her bottom lip, shaking her head. “Have you heard anything people are saying about us?” 

“That you’re knocked up?” he said it so casually. Teddi scoffed. “There something you wanna tell me, Larsson?” he was teasing her. She couldn’t believe he could tease her over something like this. 

Teddi crossed her arms, moving to stand in front of him. She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him. “You have to have sex for that to happen, genius.”

Billy smirked, leaning down at a little. “I’m aware of how it works, Ted,” she let out an annoyed huff. Billy flicked the butt of his cigarette away, his hand resting on her waist. “What’s the big deal? Everyone’ll know it’s not true when you don’t...blow up in a few months.”

“Nice.” 

Billy let out a soft laugh. “I’m just saying. Teddi, who gives a shit what anyone in this shitty town thinks of us? Who cares if they know that we’re together? Of if we got our own place? It’s none of their fucking business.” he was right. Teddi knew that he was. Maybe it was because she didn’t like drawing too much attention to herself. Or maybe…

“It’s not that…” Teddi sighed. She could make herself say it. She looked down, focusing on her boots. They were slick from the snowy slush that covered the parking lot. 

Billy placed two fingers under Teddi’s chin, gently lifting her head to look into her eyes. “Then what is it? You’re freaking me out here, Weird Girl. You’re not really one to keep your opinions to yourself.”

Teddi was chewing on her lip again. “I guess...I guess I don’t want people to know about this because I’m not really sure what this is,” Billy pulled his hand away from her. His jaw had set firmly. Teddi sighed. “Billy, it’s just that it’s you...it’s us.” Nice, Teddi thought, try harder Teddi, maybe you can make this come out even worse.

Billy pulled away from her. Teddi reached out for him, but he took a step back. Teddi opened her mouth to say something, anything that could fix what she had done. 

“Ooo, are we interrupting a lovers quarrel?” Teddi sighed at the sound of Tommy’s voice. She and Billy both turned to face Tommy and Carol. There was a small group with them. Apparently Tommy was the new king of the hill at Hawkins’ high. Teddi could only roll her eyes. “You know, Teddi, all this stress can’t be good for your little bun in the oven.” he teased with a snarl like grin. 

“Fuck off, Tommy.” Teddi spat. She took a step forward, but Billy grabbed her arm, stepping out in front of her. 

Carol looked a little surprised for a moment. She grabbed at the arm of Tommy’s coat, ready to pull him away. When Tommy let out a cackle, Carol’s nervous expression faded and she laughed along with her boyfriend. “Would you look at that, Car,” Tommy snickered. “Looks like Billy Boy’s rubbed off on her in more ways than one, huh? What are you gonna do, Teddi? Hit me? Rearrange my face like your psychopath of a boyfriend did to Steve?” he taunted. “Did Billy do that to your face? Looks nasty.” 

Billy’s hand clenched into a fist, but he didn’t move towards Tommy. “Sure says a lot about you that you think a girl could kick your ass, Tom.”

Tommy’s smile faded, and he took a step closer to Billy. Billy took a step to meet him, just like he had at the New Year’s party. “You and your little bitch think you’re so funny, don’t you, Hargrove? You think you’re so cool. That you two can just swoop on in and run the place? You two are just pieces of trash whose parents don’t even want them-”

Billy hit him. There was a collectively gasp behind them. Carol had taken an instinctive step backwards. Teddi stayed behind Billy, reaching out to grab the back of his denim jacket in a pathetic attempt to pull him away. Tommy stood upright, letting out a laugh as he wiped the blood from his nose. The two boys stared at each other for a few long moments before Tommy lunged for Billy. 

He hit him like a brick wall. Billy had his feet planted firmly, shoving Tommy hard. Tommy let out another laugh as he stumbled. He threw a punch at Billy, throwing his entire weight behind it. That had really done it. Carol was yelling at Tommy to stop. The crowd behind them were cheering as the two boys fought. 

It all happened too fast for Teddi to really take in. Tommy had gotten a few good hits in. He had opened the cut on Billy’s eyebrow, and his nose and lip were bleeding. That had really set Billy off. He’d gotten this look in his eyes, one that Teddi hadn’t seen before. It scared her. Billy had overpowered Tommy with three hard knocks to the head. Tommy’s head had bounced off the pavement with each hit. He had started moving a little slower. That was enough for Billy. Billy brought his knee down onto Tommy’s chest, anchoring him to the ground. One hand wrapped around Tommy’s neck, the other hitting him hard across the face. He didn’t stop. 

Carol was screaming now. Tommy had gone almost completely still. “Billy! Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!” Teddi gasped out. She lurched forward, grabbing Billy by the arm. He shoved her hard, sending her to the ground. Pain shot up through her wrist and up her arm. Teddi watched on with wide eyes. 

“Hey! That’s enough!” it was the boy’s basketball coach. He was running over towards them, one of the kids that had been watching the fight close behind. Eventually they managed to pull Billy off of Tommy. Carol fell to her knees next to him, pulling her boyfriend up into her lap. 

Teddi’s heart was beating hard in her chest as she looked up at Billy. His face was all screwed up in a snarl, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps. His eyes met with Teddi’s, and his expression immediately softened. Billy moved towards her, but the coach held him back. “Jesus, Hargrove. The hell has gotten into you? Someone go to the front office and get the nurse. You two,” he pointed at Billy and Teddi. “You’re going to the principal’s office. Now.” 

—-

A fight like this was going to be more than a slap on the wrist from the principal. He had spoken to Billy, Teddi and Carol individually. Tommy was still with the school nurse. Apparently he was barely conscious. Which meant the principle was going to call the police. Which meant Jim Hopper. 

Teddi was sitting outside of the principal's office when he showed up. The nurse had given her an ice pack for her wrist after she’d landed on it in the parking lot. Hopper stopped in front of her, the two of them looking at each other but not saying anything. She hadn’t seen the chief since he’d come into the video store to ask about how things were at home.

Hopper let out a sigh. “He in there?” he asked, nodding to the office. Teddi nodded. “Come with me,” she didn’t need to be told twice. She shuffled in after the chief, shutting the door behind her. Billy sunk in his seat when he saw Hopper walk in. His face had stopped bleeding, but he hadn’t been able to clean himself up. It almost looked like there was a bruise forming on top of the bruise that was already there. Hopper took a seat at the principal’s desk, Teddi sitting next to Billy. More silence. “...Alright. Which one of you wants to tell me what happened?” 

“Tommy H is a prick,” Billy spat. It was clear that answer wasn’t going to cut it with Hopper. Billy let out a loud sigh. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. “He came up to us in the parking lot and started talking shit. He got in my face...and I snapped.” Teddi could tell he was ashamed. Embarrassed even. 

“And did you do that to her?” Hopper asked, motioning to the bruise on Teddi’s face, now healing and turning a yellow color, and the ice pack pressed to Teddi’s wrist.

Teddi jumped to his defence. “It was an accident. I was trying to pull him off of Tommy...the bruise is...different.” 

“Have you two seen the kid? What the hell could he have said to deserve a beating like that?” the two teens remained silent. There was no way Billy could come out of this clean. Hopper sighed. “Look...the nurse is cleaning Tommy up. If he doesn’t need to go to the hospital then I’m not gonna have to get involved,” Teddi let out a sigh of relief. Hopper held up his hand. “But, Billy’s gonna be suspended. For at least a week. And I’m gonna have to call your parents.” 

Billy let out a dry laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Hopper asked. 

Teddi bit down on her lip. She looked over at Billy. He wouldn’t look at her. “He doesn’t-...we don’t live at home anymore,” Hopper looked between the two, his eyebrows raised and looking truly speechless. This hadn't been a can of worms that Teddi wanted to open. “We have an apartment. Out by the Brimborn steel mill. That’s why Tommy was harassing us. Someone started a rumor that I’m pregnant-”

“Are you?” Hopper asked. 

Teddi rolled her eyes. “No. We’re not- I mean we are- we were-,” she shook her head. “No.” she repeated firmly.

Hopper sat up, eyeing the two of them. “And you two moved out because things are so great at home, huh?” they didn’t say anything. He ran a tired hand over his face. “Look...if you two want me to look the other way, you’re gonna have to keep yourselves out of trouble. I can’t keep any of your little secrets if they keep calling me down here.” Billy shot an unsure look in Teddi’s direction. Hopper looked between the two teens again. “I’m gonna send you two home, and I’m gonna have a talk with Tommy. But before I let you go, is there anything else you wanna tell me?”

He was giving them an out. He might as well have just said “I know all about your asshole parents. Just say the word and I’ll throw them in jail.” Teddi wished it was that simple. She wished that there wasn’t the threat of Max being put into foster care god only knows where. She wished that there could be actual consequences for her father instead of any accusations being swept under the rug thanks to his job with the mayor. Teddi wished that she could take Hopper up on his offer. And she knew that Billy wished he could too. But that was impossible. 

When neither of them said anything, Hopper nodded. “Alright. Get outta here. I better not see you two in a mess like this again.”

“You won’t...thanks, Hopper.” Teddi smiled a little, tugging on the sleeve of Billy’s jacket. The ride home was silent. Billy wouldn’t even look in Teddi’s direction. When they pulled up to the apartment building, he cut the engine and headed inside as if she wasn’t even there. Billy plopped down on the couch with a loud groan, turning the TV on and mindlessly flipping through the channels. 

Teddi went to their tiny bathroom, wetting a washcloth and sitting next to Billy. “If you won’t talk to me, can you at least let me clean all the blood off of you?” Billy let out an irritated sigh, tossing the remote aside and turning towards her. His jaw was set tightly as she started to dab at his cuts. “...Can you at least tell me if you’re mad at me?” she asked quietly. 

“...I would’ve killed him if coach hadn’t stopped me,” he said. Teddi didn’t argue. She couldn’t. “I did the same thing to Harrington. Max had to jam a tranquilizer in my neck to stop me,” he let out a dry laugh. “She snuck out with Lucas to go to the Byers’. I was supposed to be watching her. My dad...I guess you can imagine how that went over. I still don’t know what the hell went on that night. She won’t tell me. I just remember her almost smashing my dick with a baseball bat, and the next thing I knew I woke up in my bed,” he laughed again, more genuinely this time. 

“I feel like I’m never gonna shake this off, Ted. I’ll always be this guy that let’s his anger get away with him and I’ll end up like Neil.”

Teddi tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, letting out a soft sigh. “This is just a set back. I mean, don’t get me wrong it was bad...but you’re not that guy anymore. You’re not Neil. I think it means a lot that you feel bad about hurting Tommy...even though he sorta maybe deserved it.” they both laughed softly. 

Billy placed a hand over Teddi’s. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” he said lowly.

Teddi shook her head. “It’s fine-”

“It’s not fine...you know that I’d never hurt you, right?” his voice sounded so small. Teddi knew that he didn’t want her to think he was like her dad. She didn’t.

“I know that,” she said with a thin smile. Teddi bit her lip, her fingers picking at the bloody washcloth in her hands. “...I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” 

Billy let out an irritated breath out through his nose, his head fell back against the couch. He definitely hadn’t wanted to pick this conversation up again. “So...what, you think I’m gonna fuck around or something? You’re gonna walk in on me and Cheryl again?” Teddi was quiet. Billy sat up and looked at her. “You can’t be serious, Larsson.”

“Do you have any idea how many times you’ve told me that you don’t date? You sleep with girls and then move on to the next one when you get bored of her?” Billy wouldn’t look her in the eyes. He crossed his arms firmly across his chest and focused on the TV. Teddi groaned. “Billy...I just wanna take things slow. It’s gotten insanely, super complicated now that we live together. I just want to make sure things actually work, and that we don’t let hormones get in the way.” 

Billy was still quiet. He let out a grumble, finally looking over at her. “You just don’t want me knocking you up.”

Teddi let out another groan, letting of a soft laugh and resting her forehead against his shoulder. “God, don’t even joke about that,” Billy lifted her into his lap, Teddi straddling him. Her fingers played with the collar of his shirt as they looked at each other. There was a Talking Heads video playing on the TV. “You promise you’re not mad at me then?” 

Billy was quiet for a moment, pretending to think it over. “Depends…” his hands were on Teddi’s waist, his thumbs rubbing gently at her sides. “You say no sex, but what about like dry fuc-”

“Billy.” 

“I’m just asking,” he laughed. Billy’s hands slid under Teddi’s thighs, he tossed her easily onto her back. Teddi’s stomach flipped as he crawled over her with that wolf like grin of his, nestling himself between her legs. Her hands immediately weaved into his hair when he kissed her. One of Billy’s hands travelled down her side, his fingers dipping under her shirt. Her skin felt hot as his fingers ghosted across the skin of her stomach, leaving little butterflies and goosebumps in their wake. Teddi let out a sigh. 

Billy pulled away, his lips slick with her lip gloss. Teddi blinked up at him. “...I’m hungry. You want pizza?” 

Teddi’s mouth opened and closed a few times as Billy looked down at her with an amused smile. “...Sure.”

“Pineapple?” she only nodded. Billy got up from the couch and headed over to the dull, navy colored phone hanging on the wall to order the pizza. Teddi groaned, her head falling back against the couch. Bastard, she thought, hiding her face in her hands. 

[hiswhiteknight]

A Little Chocolate on Christmas

Summary:  Reader has been hunting all her life, which leads her to forget that is was holiday season. Her relationship with the Winchester’s, specifically Dean has always been casual and filled with banter. The boys don’t except her lack of plans to invite her to their little holiday celebration. (Bad intro)

This is for @littledarlinhavefaithinme Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. I’m a little late, but @littledarlinhavefaithinme me has been so lovely! The prompt I had was – “I think eating chocolate alone on a holiday is completely normal.” Thanks for this challenge and your help!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2000 (so looong)

Warning: Flirting, mention of NSFW, implied smut, cute banter

Dean was finishing packing up the impala, you passed by as the trunk slam shut. Sam waltzed around the back behind Dean, who was making his way towards the driver’s seat, “So Y/N, what’s the plans for the holiday’s,” Sam yells over the car.

Sam’s shirt was all cut up, you had just finished a hunt with the boys. Seemed you both were hunting the same monster. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the boys. Y’all group up with each other, your family and theirs chasing the family business. You liked working alone though, which is why you haven’t seen them in a while.

You had just reached your jeep, stepping on the step to look over at them, “Oh right,” you looked up, counting with your fingers, “It is about that time of year.”

“Are you kidding,” Dean said, “Y/N, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You nod your head, acting like you’re reviewing something in your head, “Lost track of time, I guess. You know the lifestyle,” you acted so cool and unaffected by the realization that it was Christmas tomorrow.

Sam chuckled under his breath, “We’re far from the spirit of Christmas, but we are least know when it is. Are you really saying you don’t have any plans for the holidays?”

You sent the brothers a grimace face, acting like this was awkward situation, “I’ll probably grab some beer and a pack of that yummy chocolate. Find some soft porn, you know it being the holiday – got to keep it classy. Maybe I’ll even take a few days from hunting.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean shrieked, “Who are you?”

“What,” you laugh, “I think eating Chocolate alone on a holiday is completely normal.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, “No it’s not,” he had a grin on his face. He would never admit it, but he always liked you. You were an unusual person, very relaxed, and optimistic person. He never felt judged or unsupported when you were around. And you were tough as nails, one of the finest hunters, but your social skills were not top notch. Which as you can see, never phased you, “Follow Sam and I back. We’ve got a whole group of hunters at the bunker. We’re doing a thing, trying to be more normal.”

Shaking your head, “Nah, didn’t you just hear. I’ve got a whole plan – sexy chocolate goodness with me, myself, and a dirty Santa storyline.”

“Ew,” Sam gaged, “I know you’re kidding,” you shook your head, looking down the road. You weren’t sure how much you wanted to fight, you were exhausted, “We won’t take no for an answer.”

“Are you only asking me because I know how to cook,” you ask him, a hint of humor behind your voice.

Dean looked at you with curiosity, “You know how to cook,” acting shocked.

Sam shook his head, ready to get started, “Just follow us,” he got into the car, “We’re already running late.”

You could tell Sam was just as exhausted as you, so there wasn’t a point to fighting him on it. Dean made eye contact with you, “Dirty Santa,” he questioned, searching your face for an honest answer, “Is that what does it for you,” he smirked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you got into your jeep without letting him ask more.

By the time you got to the bunker, you were filled with excitement. You couldn’t remember the last time you celebrate the holidays with other people. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were in company of friends besides when you were at the Harvelle’s bar. The bunker was decorated enough to sense some holiday spirit, “You can use my room to freshen up and unpack,” Dean said over your shoulder, as you pulled your bag down the stairs, “Mostly everyone is here. Food shouldn’t be long, thankfully.”

You face him, looking up into his gorgeous eyes, “Like to show me where that is? Your room.”

“With pleasure,” he smirked down at you, gesturing you to follow him. You liked Dean, you liked him a lot. And the funny thing, you typically don’t care about attraction like that. You were a simple person, saving people, hunting, and running a positive life. You didn’t have time or needs of settling down, but Dean he was special.

He opened his door and you stepped in, “How so very Dean,” you laugh, searching around the room for what makes Dean, Dean. You spun around and flopped on his head.

Dean made his way to the end, propping his foot on his bed post, looking down at you, “Get comfortable. Shower is out that way,” he pointed.

“You don’t need anything from in here,” you smirk up at him.

“Only one thing in this room I need,” he continued to flirt with you, “But I guess for now I’ll just grab a change of clothing and get ready in Sam’s room.”

You sat up, pulling one of your knees to your chest, “Dean Winchester I live and breathe, getting ready for a holiday dinner like a proper man. You asked me who I was, now I’m wondering the same thing about you.”

He shrugged, backing up with some clothing in hand from his closet, “I’ve got to impress.”

You pulled yourself up, “And who might that be?”

He gave you a coy smile, “You know, my mom being back and all. Got to be on my best behavior.”

“Make sense,” you leaned on the door, “Hope you don’t mind if I use your bed, I could use a cat nap and such.”

He looked at your lips before glancing at his bed. This was usually how you both worked, casually flirting and no action. This is what worked best for you both, no complications, “What is mine is yours,” he whispered.

You sent him a wink before gently closing the door. And you did in fact take a cat nap before you showered and got ready. Dean’s bed smelled like him, you imagined it felt like him to – if that made sense.

Walking out into the bunker’s main area, hunters were spread around drinking and laughing. It felt right, and you’ve always been far from normal, but this felt right.

Dean caught sight of you first, “Lord have mercy,” he whispered, not realizing he said it out loud. Sam tried to trace his stare and caught sight of you.

“Wow,” Sam grinned, “You ever see that woman in a dress,” he asked acting shocked.  

Mary looked to where both her boys were looking at, “Did one of my son’s bring a date?”

Shaking his head, not looking amused, Dean answered, “No. She acted like it was normal eating chocolate alone for the holidays. So, we invited her to spend time with us.”

“Her name is Y/N,” Castiel popped up out of nowhere, “Dean gets agitated when we mention their interactions. Like how he gets flushed when she flirtatious or how annoyed he gets when someone else,” Dean’s hand and grumble stopped Cas from continuing.

Mary watched Dean before straightening up, “I think I’ll go introduce myself.”

“No mom,” he tried to stop her, but she was already on her way. He rolled his eyes, spinning around to look the other way.

Sam leaned over to his brother, who was watching the interaction between his mother and Y/N. She looked and acted like a different person, “Are we even sure that’s the real Y/N? The lady is wearing heels and I just saw her hug our mother.”

Dean looked over his shoulder. He was cringing wondering what they were talking about, before he popped, “That’s it. I can’t take it,” he chugged his beer before making a beeline to the pair.

“Dean,” you smile, “Your mom was just telling me the time you nearly killed your brother. I tried to tell her that was most of your teenage years.”

He squinted at you, but before he could say anything his mother interrupted, “Dean, I had hoped your father taught you better manners. Get the woman a drink,” she slapped him. You giggled, watching Dean stare for a second before rolling his eyes and stomping off.

When he returned with a beer, you had made your way towards the row of books. Mary sent him a wink, clearly getting her seal of approval. He cleared his throat when he got to you, grabbing your attention, “Beer,” he handed you, “Hope that is alright.”

You nod, grabbing it from him and taking a sip, “I like the Santa hat,” you point up to his head, “It’s very becoming on you.”

His grin grew, “Thought you might like it.” He took the time to check you out, top to bottom. That was alright because you were doing the same, “Where did you get the dress? Steal it,” he joked.

“Honestly,” you smile, leaning against the table, “I’ve had this dress a long time. I just never had the chance to wear it. No one to show off for.”

He walked next to you, spinning to lean on the table as well, “Christmas is a good reason to show off, especially with your Santa kink.”

“Ha. Ha,” Dean chuckled at your sarcastic reply, “You know, I still think eating chocolate alone on the holidays is normal. So it’s not the holidays I’m trying to impress.”

Dean moved forward, placing his beer down on the table, “Speaking of, I got you something,” he moved to grab something. You couldn’t stop him before he was pack with some box wrapped.

“How could you possibly know you’d see me for the holidays,” you look up at him curious, wondering what he was up to.

“Man has got to be prepared,” he shrugged.

You sent him the greatest smile he had ever seen, then you looked down and opened it. Your laugh grabbed everyone’s attention, “Chocolate,” you say amused.

“Sexy chocolate,” he smirked back at you, sipping some more of his whiskey. He was rather impressed with himself, “I drew pictures and everything.”

You bit you lip, trying to hold back more laughter, “I’m speechless Dean, you clearly put some thought into this gift.” You put it down on the table next to you, “I didn’t get you anything.”

He shook his head, “Not necessary, it was just nice having you around again,” he tapped you on the arm, “Come on, I want you to meet some people.”

The rest of the evening trickled away with conversations, drinking, and laughter. It felt completely right to be here with this company. You forgot what it was like to be normal with people and talk about intimate and personal conversations. It was especially nice to be close to Dean again, he was always making small gestures that got your attention. It probably meant nothing, but it was slowly driving you crazy. A throat clearing caught your attention, “It’s officially Christmas, Merry Christmas.”

Everyone cheered, including yourself, “Oh hold on,” Mary said over the group, “Looks like someone is under the mistletoe,” she smirked. Everyone searched around, and you just look up. There was indeed two people under a mistletoe and it was you and one Dean Winchester, “Got to kiss you two.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and acted annoyed. You were rather enjoying the moment, so you just grabbed him by the collar and everyone cheered. Not a second into the kiss, Dean was pulling you closer, and getting a deeper kiss. You heart hammered in your chest and you nearly forgot people were around, especially when Mary gestured for people to leave you both go. Dean pulled away breathing heavy, but still holding you close, “Think that’s the best Christmas present I ever got,” he whispered to you. You started to walk backwards slowly, still holding eye contact with Dean, “Where you going?”

“You want to unwrap another present,” you whisper, sending him a wink, “I think I’m going to go to your room. I’m going to bring my chocolates. Why don’t you bring that hat?”

He got flushed, smiling at you before walking towards you like you were prey. With one last wink, you skipped down the hallway before Dean looked up to the room smiling, “Best Christmas Ever,” before causally walking down to his room.

[mycandylavynder]

Christmas Date

Nathaniel - Rayan - Priya - Hyun

Castiel

"Hey. If you aren't busy this morning could you come over for a bit? I could use your help with something." You see this text message from Castiel when you wake up around 11 in the morning.

"Yeah, I can. I'm free until 2:30. What did you need help with?" You text back, curiousity at full peak as your brain slowly wakes up. Why would Cas want your help?

"Cool. I'll text you the address. Just come over whenever you're ready."

You stare at your phone for a few seconds, but the only message that comes through is the one with the address. You wonder if he ignored the ladder part of your text on purpose but decide to get ready anyway.

After you are dressed and have packed your bag, you look at the address again. It sounds familiar but you still have to GPS it. As you begin to recognize the location on the screen, nostalgia hits as you think about the place you first got to "know" Castiel. Your face reddens as you recall that night, but you quickly put the memory away to set out on your walk.

As you are walking, you pass a liquor store and decide it might be best not to show up empty handed. You buy a pack of pricey craft beer and set back on your journey. The memory of your steamy nights at his parents' come back to mind when the building comes to view. But like a seasoned pro, you bottle them back up. No sense in reading the past when you are ready to write out your future.

You press the intercom and Castiel let's you in. You walk a flight of steps until you come to the apartment door. You give a gentle knock and hear him approach from the other side before the door opens.

"Hi. That was quick." He says as he helps you take off your jacket.

"Yeah, this wasn't as far of a walk as I remembered." You hand him the package of beer before taking off your boots and setting your bag beside it.

He examines the label on the box while you do this. "Dragons milk? How'd you know I like this?"

"I do my homework." You say giving him a playful wink.

"I don't doubt that." The redhead says as you catch his smoldering gaze roaming over your figure. You're wearing a low cut white v-neck shirt, blue highwaist jeans with slits at the knees, and a long black fuzzy cardigan. You're lovely mane is fishtailed into a single braid and a black velvety choker wraps around your neck. You bite back a smile, confident you know what he's thinking. And as cute and casual as you are, you feel a bit over dressed. Castiel is wearing a black band T with gray joggers. His red locks pulled into a messy ponytail.

"So Castiel, what exactly did you need my help for?" You finally ask.

"Follow me to the kitchen." He says as he leads the way.

You lift an eyebrow but don't say a word as you take in the old familiar sights of his parents apartment. When you enter the kitchen, you stop dead in your tracks when you see what all is spread out on the floating island. "Uh, Castiel...what are all these groceries for?"

"So," he begins as he runs his fingers through his red fringe. He leans a hand on the counter before continuing, "It's Christmas. My parents flight got delayed. And I forgot to get them a present. So, naturally, like the wonderful son I am, I thought I'd have Christmas dinner ready for when they get here."

The corner of your red painted lips lift. "So, I'm guessing you need me to cook it?"

"Yeah, something like that." He says eying you. You can tell he is preparing his self for your endless teasing.

"Alright." You say cooly as you casually slide off your cardigan and hang it on the barstool. You see an apron hanging in the corner and slide it over your head. You start to tie the string around your waist but feel a hand gently swat your hands away.

"Let me do it." He says as he takes the strings into his hands. He is so close behind you that you can feel his cool breath tickling your neck and your knees quiever ever so slightly. He ties a solid knot that falls at the small of your back. You feel his fingers brush against your neck as he gently tugs your hair from under the apron collar.

You pull yourself together in time to face him, uttering a small "thanks" before you busy yourself with looking over the spread of ingredients. You make a mental checklist of what needs to be made: chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, macaroni and cheese, carrots, green beans, and dinner rolls. Okay. You can finish this in time to make your train.

You set one of the ovens to 350 degrees Fahrenheit before instructing Castiel to peel potatoes. You rinse your hands thoroughly and wash the celery and carrots. You chop them up and set them aside while you prep the chicken in a roasting pan. You add the vegetables and a few peeled potatoes to the pan and sprinkle over a generous helping of herbs and spices. Setting the pan aside while you wait for the oven to finish heating, you start gathering things for the Mac and cheese.

“We could use some music, don’t you think?” He says as he finishes peeling the last potato. You look up to watch him walk over to plug his phone into a speaker.

You break into a smile when you hear Brandon Flowers belt out "Oh Santa." Castiel catches your smile and winks. You did not think he would remember your favorite Christmas song after all these years. And as embarrassing as it is, you can't resist the urge to sing along.

Castiel unsuccessfully bites back a laugh as he listens to you miss all the notes. And you absolutely could care less because you are delivering the lines as fiercely as Beyonce. Cas rejoins you behind the counter, completely enthralled by your impromptu concert. You're wiggling as the song plays out its last cords and drifts into another alternative Christmas jam.

He stares at you. Amusement, horror, and pure mischief stir in his silver eyes as he watches you put the chicken in the oven and set the timer. After a moment, he finally speaks. "I might have to find you a spot in the band with that...wide vocal range."

You laugh. "Yeah, I don't know about that. I might just steal the show."

He smirks as you set water on the stove to boil. "When this starts to boil, add the macaroni to it." You demand as you fill another pot with water to boil the potatoes. You had to admit, getting to boss Castiel around without retaliation is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you intend to take full advantage of it.

"So how did you learn to cook like this?" He asks as he pours the Mac into the boiling water.

"Years of helping my mom, I guess. My mom's a bit of a wiz in the kitchen so she taught me quite a bit."

He grows quiet as he digests the picture of you helping your mom. "Does your mom normally cook the Holiday dinners for you?" You ask, breaking his train of thought.

"Of course. I honestly think my dad and I would burn the building down if my mom let us help."

You smile. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on you then."

A little time slips by without any thought and he finally speaks up again. His voice slightly distant as he speaks. "So... I was a little surprised you were able to come. I was sure you would have other plans."

You laugh, sounding a little bitter at the way he says that. "Yeah, what? You mean other plans like a date."

He looks at you coldly.

"No worries, Cas. I am single as a Pringle. And besides you're one to talk. I'm sure you could have easily called up your fan club and they would have had a 12 course meal on gold plated dishes at your doorstep in an hour." You hiss sounding much more venomous than you mean to. No matter how hard you try, this boy can touch you in a way others can't.

A quiet spell falls over you both as music blares in the background. The potatoes are boiling, the macaroni and cheese is ready to brown in the second oven, and Castiel joins you in clipping the ends off of the green beans.

"I'm sorry...if that came out wrong." He says carefully.

"Me too." You say, allowing the moment to pass.

"How have you been since the infirmary? No catty girls are spreading rumors are they?" His voice is softer as he speaks.

"I've been a lot better, actually. Moving forward, I decided to stop letting so much things pile up on myself. And as for the girls... I think you scared them off for good. I'm sure when we return from winter break, everyone will have completely forgotten about it."

"Good. I don't want to rough up the entire campus if I don't have to."

You smile a little, allowing a comfortable silence to form as you finish up the vegetables. The two of you debate music for a while as you finish making the mashed potatoes and start the stuffing. Castiel shares a couple of wild band stories as you put him in charge over the gravy.

Soon you both find all the food is either cooked or in the oven. And it's time to clean up the dishes. You already set aside most of the dishes to soak. He picks up a few of the stray forks and spoons and brings them to the sink. "You dry, and I'll wash?" You suggest and he takes his spot at the side of the sink.

"I sure hope your parents like everything we made."

"Me too. But if they don't, I'll just tell them I had help from this funny little girl."

You playfully jab him with your elbow. "So, you plan on taking all the credit if it turns out nicely then?"

"Obviously. I did do most of the work after all." He says, side-eying you.

You gasp in mock offense and flick a little water at him. He glares at you and you take a step back. "Oh you're definitely going to pay for that little girl." He says as he scoops you up into his arms and throws you over his shoulder. You laugh and pound his back softly with you fists as your feet kick the air.

"Put me down, Castiel!" You demand through fits of laughter as he walks you toward the living room.

"Oh no, not until you pay, Candy. That was the second shirt of mine that you've ruined." He says dramatically.

He tosses you on the coach and climbs on top of you. His long legs carefully straddle your thighs as he runs his fingers down your sides to tickle you.

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in your eyes as you try to fight it. He tickles his fingers over your stomach and arms and doesn't let up until you whine, "Stop, Cas, I swear I'm about to pee myself."

He pins your wrists above your head, a wicked look twinkling in his sexy eyes like that of a cat that wants to play with it's spoils. Your stomach is doing Olympic worthy flips, and you can hear how hard your heart is working to keep you alive. His eyes fall to your lips as he slowly lowers himself over you. You feel his arrogant smiling lips begin to gently brush against yours.

Then the timer goes off, startling you both out of your little bubble. You both stay frozen before you finally whisper, "Uh, the chicken is done." Your face is terribly hot and your head is spinning in a merry-go-round. He slowly lets you free, a quiet unreadable ecpression washing over his face. You get up and go to the kitchen, slidding on oven mitts to pull out the chicken. That is the last of the food to make.

You check the time and panic. "Oh shit! I missed the bus to the train station!"

"Don't worry, I can drop you off." He says as he strolls past the kitchen. "Just let me get changed." He says heading toward his bedroom.

A few minutes later, he emerges, dressed in his usual threads. "Ready?" He asks already heading for the door.

The car ride to the station is short and quiet. The radio plays its usual rounds and you wonder what Castiel thinks whenever he hears Crowstorm play on the radio. But you don't ask since your destination is coming into view.

He comes to a stop in front of the station. You both linger for a second before you grab your stuff. "Thanks for the ride. I guess I'll...see you around?" You say just before you place your hand on the handle.

He grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. His lips zealously crash against yours and you both can't stop the desire to deepen the kiss. A wild fire is breaking thoughout your body and you don't want to put it out. He tastes wonderful and wreckless as he gently tugs on your hair.

But unfortunately all good things must come to an end. You hesitantly pull away from each other, feeling your heart sigh at the departure. "See you around, little girl."

You flash him a smile before skipping out the car to catch your train. It was a strange surprise to your Christmas morning, but you would not have it any other way.

Much later that evening, you get a text from Castiel. "I think you missed your calling."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you'd make a better chef than an art historian." You smile, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

"So everyone likes the food then?"

"Yes. My mom won't shut up about how I've been holding back on her and that I'll have to do this again next year.

"So...are you free next December 25?"

You cover your giggling so your parents don't hear you in the kitchen. "I don't know... I'll have to check my schedule."

"Merry Christmas, Candy."

"Merry Christmas."