#n also i DO love dean deeply too to clarify

[clairenatural]

I honestly think Cas WAS in the wrong though for leaving Dean in 15x04 because he knew Dean was hurting and he knew Dean had low self worth and extreme abandonment issues. Like I get why he did it and I don’t hold it against him but it wasn’t the right thing to do

this is a castiel apologist blog!!!!

so sorry, but i disagree. it sucked for dean but dean was not in a place where he could listen to cas or be receptive to his help, and it was just hurting cas to stay there and continue trying while being shut down. i don’t blame dean for this, because he has a lot of trauma and abandonment issues to work through, but nobody (fictional or not) is required to sit with their partner and help them work through their issues at their own detriment, especially when their partner is refusing help. of course cas wants to, every partner in this situation wants to, but it’s just more damaging to everyone in the long run. so yeah i do think it was the right thing to do to put himself first for once, even if it hurt dean. both of them were hurting deeply at the moment, and both hurt in the aftermath, but cas leaving was good for him and also their relationship and, arguably, dean, because it forced him to have the “you left but i didn’t stop you” realization which was such a breakthrough (and isn’t only applicable to cas but to all his relationships tbh).

[densi-mber]

Crush

A/N: This takes places in the semi-near future. For today’s prompt: Kensi or Deeks as a teacher. This fic represents what happens when my mind runs wild with an idea.

***

“Hey, can I call you back in about an hour and a half?” Deeks asked as he jogged down a flight of stairs to the third floor. “I have office hours starting in a few minutes.”

“Sure. Good luck with the gremlins,” Kensi answered. He rolled his eyes, nodding to a passing professor.

“Kens, they’re in they’re 20’s. You have to stop calling my students things like gremlins and children.”

He walked into the small office where he spent his time when he wasn’t teaching Contract Law to thirty or so L1 students. He dropped his bag by the desk, and slipped his jacket off, rolling his sleeves up a few times so he wouldn’t end up getting ink or chalk on the fabric. His dry cleaning bills had definitely increased since he started wearing dress shirts and ties again.

A little less than a year before, when he’d be aimlessly looking for a job, one of his former classmates had suggested teaching until he found something more permanent. Deeks had balked at the idea initially, but eventually given when it became clear that he needed to work and his other options were unavailable.

He’d never anticipated how much he would enjoy it. Now he taught three classes throughout the week at Loyola Law school as an adjunct professor. It was strangely satisfying to have a hand in teaching the next batch of lawyers.

“All I’m saying is that they look a lot younger that I did at that age.” Deeks snorted at Kensi’s completely inaccurate observation as he wrote a few notes on the blackboard that took up most of the back wall.

“You were just a baby when I met you,” he teased.

“Yet you still married me,” Kensi pointed out.

“Ooh, touché.” He heard a noise behind him and glanced over his shoulder. “Oops, gotta go. See you at dinner.” Deeks hung up, turning around completely to face one of his students, Mallory Baten.

She was lingering in the doorway and if Deeks didn’t know better, he would have thought she was hesitating. But that didn’t align with the young woman he knew. Mallory was one of the most outspoken and confident students in the class. She also had a biting sense of humor that Deeks found hilarious.

“Hey Mallory, what can I do for you?” he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat. Again she hesitated a little before pulling up one of the metal chairs situated opposite his desk.

“I had a few questions about Monday’s lecture, Mr. Deeks,” she said, pulling out a thick, color coded binder. The sight of it always reminded him of his own college experience and made him slightly nauseous. He did not miss the stress of studying and exams.

Deeks dragged his chair over with his foot and sat down with his forearms braced against the back, waiting for her to continue.

Brushing her light blond hair back from her neck, Mallory flipped to a page from the last class notes. Deeks instantly recognized her small, neat handwriting covering the majority of the paper.

“So, I was rereading the section on unjust enrichment and I wondered if you could clarify the concept. The text book had some examples, but I thought it was a little lacking,” she said, pointing to her notes.

Deeks tilted his head, quickly scanned her notes and nodded. It was a fairly simple concept, but Mallory tended to be exceedingly thorough. She was one of five or six students who regularly attended his office hours.

“Ok, so unjust enrichment essentially says that if I provide you with a service or product, I deserve compensation. Even if you end a contract early or have an issue with how I provided the service, you still need to provide compensation for those services or produces you received,” he explained.

“Even if the services or products weren’t satisfactory?” she asked, writing something in the corner of the page.

“Well, that would fall under a different part of contract law and would be considered a breach of contract. Assuming there was a legitimate contract to begin with. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, it does, Mr. Deeks.”

“Awesome, I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Deeks said, grabbing a stack of homework assignments that needed grading from the end of his desk while Mallory packed up her binder.

“Actually, I have one more question,” Mallory said. He glanced up, mildly surprised to find her standing over her desk. “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

Deeks froze, sure he’d heard her wrong.

“Do I-what are you asking me?”

“I’m asking you to go out to dinner. On a date.” Her cheeks were a little flushed, but her gaze didn’t waver.

“You know, I’m married, right?” he asked a little desperately. He saw Mallory’s eyes flick to his ring and then back to his face, and she nodded.

“I know.”

“And I’m your teacher.”

“You’re also really hot,” she said bluntly and he felt his cheeks fill with heat. “Plus you’re funny, caring, and my god, your muscles are incredible. Sometimes I come to office hours just to watch the you move.”

Mallory seemed past the point of embarrassment, but he wished a hole would open up in the floor. Or he could throw himself out a window. Unfortunately, his office didn’t have one so he’d have to actually face this. It didn’t help that Mallory was now openly checking him out.

Suppressing a groan, he turned in a half circle, pinching the bridge of his nose as tried to figure out what to say. The continuing ed classes he’d taken hadn’t prepared him for this possibility at all.

“Mart-Mr. Deeks, are you ok?” He almost laughed at the question.

He turned back around to face Mallory again, balancing a on hand on his hip. She looked a little more uncertain again and was watching him avidly.

“Well, this is, uh, wow.” He cleared his throat noisily and tried again. “While this is incredibly, um, flattering, I think we both know that nothing is going to happen between us. For a multitude of reasons,” he said as gently as he could.

“We could still just go out for dinner,” she suggested hopefully. “As friends.”

“No, we can’t,” Deeks said firmly. “Now we should go talk to the dean about getting you transferred to another class section for the remainder of the semester.”

***

“Hey baby,” Kensi greeted him at home later that day, punctuating it with a kiss. “How was work?”

“An unmitigated disaster,” he sighed. He dropped his bag by the door, and flopped onto the couch. Kensi sat next to him and grabbed his hand with a look of concern.

“What happened? Everything seemed fine when I talked to you earlier today.” Deeks groaned, silently reliving the last few hours.

“One of my students hit on me today.” If he’d expected Kensi to react with outrage, he was about to be disappointed. She visibly relaxed beside him, smacking his arm with the back of her hand.

“Why didn’t you lead with that? You had me really worried,” she said, shaking her head at his apparent lack of consideration.

“The fact that a 23 year old asked me out to dinner doesn’t bother you at all?” Deeks asked. Kensi shrugged.

“I figured it was only a matter of time.” Deeks gave her a look and she rolled her eyes at him. “For someone who claims to be a reformed lady’s man, you are ridiculously oblivious when someone is flirting with you. Half the women in your class have a crush on you.”

“No they don’t.” Kensi actually laughed at his protest, patting his arm with false sympathy.

“Uh, yeah they do, babe. Every time I’ve visited you at work, there are no less than three students staring at you at any time. Sometimes even a couple teachers,” she said, clearly enjoying this more than she had any right to.

“Ugh, now I’m going to be thinking about these kids checking me out during class,” he groaned. “This sucks.”

“You’re not even a little bit flattered?” she asked with mild surprised. He shrugged. Maybe he would have been at one time, but now it just seemed weird and a little creepy.

“I might be if I wasn’t old enough to be their father.” Kensi squinted at him and he clarified, “If I had them really young.”

“I’m sure they don’t think of you in a fatherly way.” Deeks made a face at that and gave a full-body shudder.

“Well, thanks for that horrible thought,” he said dryly. “And here I just thought they all loved my teaching.”

“Well, I’m sure they appreciate that too.” Kensi smirked at him as he pouted, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s all your own fault, you know.”

“How is this my fault? I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You can’t walk around all day in tight shirts and pants with your sleeves rolled up and not expect to get noticed,” she said, leaning in and gliding her nose across his jaw. She inhaled deeply. “You look good enough to eat.” As she spoke, her hand drifted up his bare forearm to cup his bicep. It was a fairly innocent touch, but he still felt a shiver work its way up his spine.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, thoughts of Mallory quickly leaving his mind. Kensi walked her fingers up his arm and across his chest, pausing at his collar. She fiddled with the button on his collar and then slowly tugged his tie free.

“It’s a promise,” she said, the husky note in her voice incredibly sexy. Deeks settled his hands on her hips as she rose up on her knees and straddled his thighs. Smiling down at him, she brushed her hair back, the glossy strands dancing around her shoulder, and slipped the top button free on his shirt. Then she looked up, her expression playful, and added, “For later.”

“That’s cruel,” he complained. “Especially when I’ve had such a terrible day. It was mortifying.”

“So how much did you freak out when she asked you out?” she asked slyly.

“I handled it with all the finesse and professionalism that you would expect from a former criminal defendant, detective, and federal liaison,” Deeks said with mock solemnity and Kensi raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” Her voice was filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, no, I kept hoping a freak tornado or earthquake would come along and put me out of my misery.”

“So, I don’t have to worry about you running off with any promising young law students?” Deeks rolled his eyes at Kensi’s question. He thought she was mostly joking, but just in case, he cupped her jaw between his palms, cradling the back of her head and firmly kissed her. She made a noise of surprise in the back of her throat that quickly turned to satisfaction.

“Never. They’ll just have to find another incredibly attractive, middle aged teacher to chase after.” He kissed her again. When they pulled back, Kensi was smirking at him as she fiddled with his collar.

“You’re an idiot, but I love you anyway,” she said, pulling him back down to her.

***

A/N: I know nothing about law, other than what I googled.

[idreamofplaid]

Love and Devotion

Summary: Intimacy is something that takes time for the reader. Sam is a patient man.

Characters: Sam x Plus!Size Reader

Word Count: 3674

A/N: This fic was requested by @autumninavonlea . It is about being demisexual. She asked the question, “ How would Sam react if his girlfriend was demisexual?” Add to that all the feelings that come with being plus sized in a thin world. I took some time with this one and tried to really feel what I was writing. I hope I got it right.

Someone else had wrapped the tiny little box. You were sure about that because Sam knew basically nothing about wrapping presents. He’d told you the stories about Christmases spent alone with Dean and gifts wrapped in newspaper. This little package had pretty silver paper and a perfectly hand tied red ribbon.

Sam watched you expectantly biting his bottom lip briefly before his dimple accented smile spread across his face. You pulled slowly at the ribbon. Whatever was inside this tiny box, it represented another move forward in your relationship. You knew what came in tiny boxes like this one, not that you were expecting an engagement ring. It was too soon for that. 

Besides, people had sex before they got engaged; didn’t they? And that was something that hadn’t happened between you and Sam. He hadn’t pressured you at all, but now things were changing.

Carefully, you removed the paper and lifted the top from the box. Inside was a gold chain piled on top of a disc. You gently pinched your fingers around the clasp so you could pull the gold circle from the box. It was plain without any markings. You turned it over; the back was empty too. 

Sam took the necklace from you. His eyes were soft, taking in your expression. His voice was equally as soft. “Turn around.” You did as he asked, and Sam gathered your hair in his hand so he could place it over one of your shoulders. Then he lifted the necklace over your head and fastened it in place.

You turned back around, your fingertips grazing the surface of the gold. Sam’s eyes were still on you. “There’s no inscription on it.” He took one of your hands in his. “That comes later.” He paused; his eyes traveled over your face then back to yours. “Every version of my future I can think of has you in it.” He bent down to touch his lips to yours, softly at first then the tip of his tongue touched your mouth seeking entrance.

Sam’s kisses were always welcome. He was tender even when the way he kissed you turned more passionate dancing on the edge of becoming something more physical, but Sam had never crossed that line. He had listened while you explained, after cutting short what could have been your first make out session, how you felt about sex and having a physical relationship with someone. He understood that feelings were deeply connected to anything sexual for you, and it was something you weren’t comfortable with doing yet.

Sam was patient, and that’s what made you comfortable with letting him lead you to the couch now while he kissed you. He guided you down, your back against the arm of the sofa and settled in on top of you.

His mouth moved across your cheek and down your neck leaving a trail of kisses to your collarbone. His breath was warm against your skin. “Is this okay?”

You tightened your hold on him and nodded. “Y...yes.” Once he knew you were alright, Sam kissed you more deeply. You’d come to love the taste of him on your tongue. It was familiar and exciting. He could stir a longing for him deep inside you that no man had ever been able to before.

Sam’s large hand covered the side of your waist and he started to push your shirt up while he continued to kiss you. Then he stopped; his eyes were dark and beautiful. “I don’t expect anything. You know that, right?”

You reached up to touch the hard line of his jaw. “I know. Keep going. I want you to.”

Sam brushed his thumb softly over your cheek. “Just tell me if you change your mind.”

Sam focused on kissing your neck where it met your shoulder while his hand slid further under your shirt and up your side. You put one hand into his hair and held onto him with your other arm. When his hand moved over your breast, you inhaled sharply.

Sam kissed your mouth again and caught your breath inside his when you exhaled. His thumb started to flick over your nipple through your bra. He talked against your lips through kisses. “I’ve got you, Y/N.” Your body responded to him, your nipple grew taut through the thin fabric of your bra. 

This felt good. You didn’t protest when Sam eased your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor. He lowered himself down your body and teased one of your nipples with his tongue until the material of your bra was wet. Your already aroused nipple drew tighter, and there was an unmistakable tingle between your legs accompanied by an ache in your core.

You wanted him. This is what desire felt like, not like the times you’d gone through with sex before because your friends were doing it. Each time you had hoped this was the time it would be different. This time it really was different. Sam reached behind you to unhook your bra, and you adjusted your body to make it easier for him. This was more skin than you had ever shown him before. There was only a moment’s hesitation in your mind; you wanted him to do this.

Sam’s first kiss was along the curve of your breast. After several kisses, he moved his mouth and closed it over your nipple. At first, he kissed you there the same way he kissed your mouth when he was using his tongue. The swirls and circles changed to sucking and licking while he rolled your other nipple between his fingers.

Your eyes closed, and your breathing got heavier. It was okay that he was doing this, more than okay. The way he made you feel, emotionally and physically, already had your thoughts melting into a soft, sweet haze of nothing but him and the way his mouth and hands felt on your body.

You let yourself get lost in it until Sam’s hand slipped under your waistband and inside your panties. Your eyes flew open, and your tried to sit up. Sam moved, and his weight was no longer heavy on top of you. It was almost like a protective instinct when you crossed your arms over your exposed chest to cover yourself even though he hadn’t hurt you.

It was your fear of what came next that had caused you to panic. You didn’t want to disappoint him, not be what he expects. Sam reached for your shirt where it had fallen. He picked it up and slipped it over your head then helped you put your arms back through the sleeves. His touch on your shoulder was light. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” You could only shake your head. Sam covered your hand with his and held it. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do anything.”

You finally found your voice. “I’m sorry.” 

Sam wrapped you in his arms. “Shhh. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He kissed your hair and held the back of your head in his hand. You sat that way in silence. Sam didn’t say anything; he was just with you. He held you and comforted you.

After a long time, you whispered against his chest. “Thank you.”

Sam answered quietly, “Do you want to sleep with me?” He was quick to clarify. “I just mean sleep. Nothing else. I want to hold you, have you close to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s room was pretty basic. He hadn’t done much to add any homey touches. It was still one of the most inviting places you’d ever seen. You did want to curl up in that bed with Sam. You wanted to give yourself to him. Why couldn’t you? He hadn’t given you any reason to doubt him, none at all.

Sam smiled at you. Soft. Gentle. Sam. “Do you want something to sleep in? You can wear one of my shirts.” 

Still feeling a little shy, you managed to answer, “Okay.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a navy t-shirt. It wasn’t one of the deep v-necks he often wore. If it had been, that would have left little to the imagination. He even looked away while you changed like you hadn’t just been intimate with each other only minutes before. Sam didn’t turn around until you were settled in his bed with the covers over you, so he missed seeing your bare legs. You noticed everything he was doing to be a gentleman, and the appreciation you felt filled your heart with even deeper feelings for him.

Sam undressed in front of you, down to his underwear at least. He took off his jeans and layers of Winchester shirts then put on some sleep pants and a t-shirt that was in the v-neck style.

Sam settled into bed next to you. He was careful not to get too close or touch you before he asked, “Is it okay for me to hold you?”

Once you had given him the go ahead, he pulled you close against him with your back pressed against his chest. He circled one strong arm around your waist and held you there. You lay together in the quiet and darkness of the room for several minutes feeling Sam’s heart beat against your back.

A swirl of thoughts were tangled in your mind. You wanted to be with Sam; you wanted to lower every wall, every barrier and give yourself to him. But nagging doubts filled your head. Sex meant something far more to you than just the physical. It made you feel truly vulnerable and that was scary.

Too often the partners you’d had, and there weren’t that many, pulled back from you after sex leaving you feeling even more vulnerable and rejected. You trusted Sam, but you’d trusted some of those other guys too; guys who said they wouldn’t hurt you. Then they did.

Your feelings were made even more complicated by the fact you carried extra weight. It made you self conscious, and when a guy was attracted to you; you sometimes questioned his motives because of your past experiences. Sam wasn’t like that. Your knew it, but that didn’t stop the fear.

You were still scared. You were scared of Sam just being nice to you, polite enough to go through with it but then being done because he had no desire for you after you’d had sex with him, and he’d seen your body.

You were also scared of what you might be doing to him if he did care for you. He deserved someone who would give of herself completely to him. He deserved someone who wouldn’t keep telling him no.

Sam ran his long fingers through your hair, and you struggled not to cry. “Talk to me, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on. What are you thinking?”

You took a deep breath, not wanting your voice to crack when you answered him because then he’d know just how close you were to crying, and his soft touch made it harder to fight. “I just...I don’t want this to end.”

He tightened his hold on you ever so slightly. “Why do you think that? Have I given you a reason to think that?”

You put your hand over his where it was resting on your waist. “You haven’t done anything, Sam. It’s me.” He held you a little longer before saying anything else.

“Why do you think you’ve done anything?”

You tucked your face into the pillow. “Because it isn’t fair to you that I keep asking you to wait.”

Sam shifted slightly in the bed and turned your body so he could face you. He put his hand on the side of your face. “Honey, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I want to be with you when you’re ready. Not before then.”

You glanced up at him then lowered your eyes. “Women practically throw themselves at you, Sam. You don’t have to wait.”

Sam took your hand in his and kissed it. “I don’t want them. I want you, and waiting is better. I’ve tried to force it so I could have someone, have something, feel close to somebody.” He kissed your hand again. “But that wasn’t enough; you are. You’re enough right now. When you are ready and we do make love, it’ll be that much better.”

This incredible man, that you would never understand how you found or why he chose to be with you, took you in his arms then and held you. When he felt you relax, Sam started to talk to you, and what he said made your heart freeze and then leap. “I’ll wait as long as you need, Y/N, because I love you.”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, but your body was still. You couldn’t move or speak. Sam kissed your forehead with a gentle touch of his lips then nuzzled your cheek with his before burying his face in your hair and inhaling you deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you slept with Sam was the night he asked you to marry him. He’d asked soon after he said “I love you”. Sam Winchester was romantic to his core. He proposed to you by a lake when the first flowers of spring were blooming.

Sam was every bit as passionate as he was romantic, but he didn’t let that passion overtake him or overwhelm you. He did everything you needed that first time you shared his bed. As a result, he had everything he wanted. He had you.

The next morning you woke up in his arms with the length of your naked body touching his. When you raised your head from his chest, Sam was smiling at you. That moment was when a calmness and completeness settled over you that was the most beautiful thing you’d ever felt in your life until now.

You were finally alone with your new husband. The wedding was perfect, everything you had dreamed. It was small, only the people who meant the most to you were there. Sam was more relaxed and happier than you had ever seen him. He ate the ceremonial bite of wedding cake you offered him and then finished his entire piece. He danced with you while your family and friends watched, and he couldn’t get enough kisses or contact with you practically keeping his hand on the small of your back the entire day.

Now, night had fallen; and the moon and stars shone down on you as you sat together on the deck of the lake house Sam had brought you to for your honeymoon. It was full summer now and pleasantly warm. Branches in the trees around you moved gently in the nighttime breeze that came from the lake.

You heard Sam sigh, his thumb softly brushing back and forth over your knuckles. A smile crossed your face. It was time. Slowly, you stood and without letting go of his hand leaned down to kiss Sam’s cheek, followed by a whisper in his ear. “Give me a few minutes then wait for me in the bedroom.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took one more look at yourself in the mirror. A few months ago you would have never worn something like this, but your confidence was at an all time high. You were wearing a sheer black lace babydoll that revealed your nude body beneath it. Sam was about to find out just how you could be when you felt totally safe, and so were you.

When you walked out of the dressing room area, you found Sam sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard and his long legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles. He had bought something for tonight too. The sleep pants he was wearing were all white and not his usual flannel.

Sam’s breath caught when he saw you, and you watched his chest rise and fall. He had shaved the patch of hair that sometimes grew there. Your eyes traveled over his bare chest to the muscles in his shoulders, and up to the awed expression on his face. He uncrossed his legs drawing your attention to the lower part of his body. The outline of his penis was easy to see through the thin fabric of the sleep pants. Your own breath hitched.

As you walked closer to him, he raised his arms to reach for you; and you caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his finger. For you, that was a powerful aphrodisiac. You put a knee on the bed and lowered yourself to him. His kiss made you lightheaded and grounded you. The taste of him was comforting, familiar, and thrilling. He slid his hand under your lingerie and cupped your bare behind in his hand, squeezing while he kissed you deeply. 

You were getting wet for him. The more he kissed you, the wetter you became. “Lie down on the bed for me, Sam.” He did as you asked, and you straddled him so he could feel just how wet you were. You lay down on top of him and rubbed your core against his naked stomach.  Sam moaned into your mouth. “I want you, Y/N.” You could feel his full erection pressing into your backside.

You pulled your lips from his to place them on his chest and start a trail of kisses down the center of his body across his firm abs and right to his waistband before working your way back up to one of his nipples. Your extremely sensitive husband gasped when you took the little nub into your mouth rolling your tongue over it.

Sam raised his hips off the bed seeking something you weren’t going to give him just yet. You kept sucking on his nipple and reached down to stroke him through the pants. He had a sizable wet spot of his own forming, and you could fell the length of him throbbing through the fabric. After stroking him for a couple of minutes, Sam was moving his hips trying, but unable to, thrust into your hand. The sounds he was making flushed your body with heat, and you let go of his nipple with a final lick.

You slid your body down his, lightly scratching his skin with the lace you were still wearing. A quick look to Sam’s face and you saw his eyes were closed, and he was breathing through his mouth. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down over his hips. Pre come was steadily oozing from his tip, and his thick penis bobbed with the need for more.

Once those innocent looking, erotic white pants were on the floor, you lifted the babydoll over your head and tossed it on top of them. You guided Sam to your entrance and sank down onto him. With each rise and fall of your body, he was pushing against your cervix. You draped yourself on top of him and let Sam take over. He thrust up into you for a few seconds before rolling you beneath him.

Sam found the rhythm that you both liked best, dragging over your sweet spot with every thrust. You parted your legs even wider for him and let your fingers sink into his back as your orgasm washed over and through you. Sam’s hips speeded up. “This is all for you, Y/N. Only you.” He came inside you with a cry, and you felt his hot semen filling you.

Sam slipped from your body and kissed you with a post orgasmic softness. His fingers sank into your hair, and he grasped a gentle handful while he kissed you. After several minutes of kissing and allowing your breathing to return to normal, Sam propped himself on his elbow so he could look at you. “You’re perfect, Y/N, and so beautiful. I love you with everything I have to give you.” 

Happy tears filled your eyes. You brushed your fingertips over his cheek and along his jaw. He was real. “I love you, Sam, and I will give you everything I have.”

He wiped the tears from your face then touched his lips to yours, his hand gently cradling you head. You smiled when he pulled back to look at you again. “No more tears, beautiful.” Then Sam reached for the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled your disc necklace from it. He had asked for it back a few days ago, and unquestioningly you had given it to him. Just like he had done months ago, Sam fastened it around your neck. 

You lifted the little circle; there was a W engraved on the front now. On the back there was an inscription, I love you now and always with the date. “Sam I...you...you planned this?”

His smile still made your heart flutter, maybe even more now that you were his wife. “I knew, Y/N. I knew when I first gave it to you that I would wait for today as long as I had to. You’re part of me.”

You put your hand over the W that was resting on top of your heart. “I love you so much, Sam.” You took a deep breath, your hand still on the pendant. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

Sam kissed your cheek right next to your ear. “I know, Mrs. Winchester. I know.”

Forevers: @bitterstar88 @coffee-obsessed-writer @timelordy-fangirl2 @stusbunker @girl-next-door-writes @mariekoukie6661 @sandlee44 @cosicas-cuquis @ohnowin-chester @waywardbaby @dean-winchesters-bacon @oldfreakything @akhuna01 @tumbler-tidbits @maddiepants @evansrogerskitten @sorenmarie87 @ladywinchester1967 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @sea040561 @atc74 @mrs-meghan-winchester @ladycynthia @brinkofinsanity77645 @defenderrosetyler @emoryhemsworth @outcastedangel @67-chevy-baby @neii3n 

Forever Sam: @sammyimpala-67​ @crashdevlin​ @savemecastiel​ @logical-princey​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @heycasbutt​ @idabbleincrazy​ @fantasy-shadows​ @rebelminxy​ @peridottea91​ @mereka18​ @deansyahtzee​ @saltandburn-ilovesamwinchester​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @unabashedsoul97​ @princessmisery666​ @invisibledevour​ @beenlovingromansincedayoneish​ @arwenadreamer​ @fullmooner​ @waywardwilled​ @ketchacabra​ @taylasara​ @wendibird​ @mtngirlforever​ @focusonspn​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @dreamsfrozenincandyland​ @keymology​ @daisymoder72​ @mymysosa​ @spnxbsessed​ @wingledsam​ @alleiradayne​ @volleyballer519​ @autumninavonlea​ @muggle394​ @ballistic-bailey​ @madebypointlesswerewolves​ @moondrunklove​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @supernaturalgrandma​ @hermionejacobs​ @samleerandom​ @ledzeppelinsbonzo​ @hella-aj-the-tricksters-son​ @awesomesusiebstuff​

[percywinchester27]

Unconventional Roommates (Part-5)

Word count: 4K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Fluff-ish? ;)

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: Yes they’re talking!! ;) This is also written for @spnfluffbingo

Square filled: Slow burn

Thanks to my Darling @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this. This wouldn’t have been possible without your love and encouragement. Love you <3

Unconventional Roommates masterlist

"Why do you look like someone died?" Cas' voice was curious, but his expression was borderline pitying when he found Dean on the lone bench in the quadrangle with his head in his hands.

"It's me. I'm about to get butchered in there," Dean sighed.

"C'mon, it can't be that bad."

Dean looked up to meet Cas' eyes. "You know exactly how bad it is."

It was Friday. In an hour and a half Zachariah's class would begin and Dean would be thrown out again if not failing for the whole semester. He had just one set of drawings done along with the assignment written one and a half times. That asshat of a professor was going to bury him alive. But Dean knew he couldn't have done any better. With all of his college work drowned, he had other subjects to take care of, too, and yet, he had put in every free second into this stupid redo.

So much for wanting to be in college.

Cas nodded sympathetically because he knew of the flooding tragedy that had befallen Dean, but then he smiled, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Well, my dear friend, I have some good news for you."

Dean doubted it but he still tried to put on an interested face while internally trying not to drown in doom.

"Zach's class is cancelled today."

"You're kidding!" Could it really be possible? Could such good luck have really befallen him?

"Yep," Cas smiled. "I was just at the office and the assistant was talking over the phone trying to reschedule Zach's lecture to Wednesday. Apparently he has the flu."

"You're me telling the truth, right?" Dean asked, barely believing his ears.

"Hundred percent," Cas grinned.

Dean got up, smiling for the first time in the past couple days. "You're a frigging angel or something."

"Barely," he said. "You deserve a break, man. It's been coming at you from all sides, all the time. How about you join us tonight? There's a party at the beach and you can tag along with me, Meg and the other guys."

Beach sounded tempting, but given the chance, he would rather stretch his legs and complete the backlog at a more comfortable pace than the desperate speed he'd been working at.

"I'd love to come, but I think my sanity would thank me for a full night's sleep now that I have the option."

"Well you have to go there two weeks later anyways to click pictures for the paper, it would be nice to get to know the area."

This was going to be his first assignment for the magazine. "What're the pictures going to be about?"

Cas' face brightened up. "Oh, there's going to be the fall fair there. Ferris wheels, games  and all that stuff. We cover it every year for the paper."

Again, Dean was tempted to say yes, but he knew better.

"Thanks Cas, really, but I think I'll just have a quiet evening. I could use some quiet about now."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind."

Dean watched Cas walk towards his class, thinking about how people seemed to actually have a life here, while he was stuck trying to grasp the pieces to keep it all together. At least, there was one person whose life seemed to be as boring as Dean's. He hadn't seen her since the broken tap debacle. God knows what she did in the day, but, by the time he got back home, her bedroom was always locked.

He'd spent most of those nights in the living room, drafting the sheets on the small table in front of the TV. It was large enough to mount an A0 sheet. More times than necessary, his eyes had flitted towards the red door, even though he knew there was no one behind it. Dean had tried his best to forget the look of absolute panic on Y/N's face when he'd asked to enter her room and he found himself wondering what could possibly be in there. Years and years of filthy clothes? Maybe that was it, maybe she hadn't cleaned the place in a while and was embarrassed by it.

Then there was also the question of what she did. About that, Dean had some idea though. Only the night before, when he'd left the work table alone to make himself some coffee at 3 in the morning, he found math books had been laid out on the counter in front of the coffee machine. They were all worn out and from what Dean could guess very advanced math. She'd probably put them out to dry after the water in her room. So, she was a university student too, either she took night classes or it was correspondence.

That gave Dean some perspective about her life. She attended the night classes and took up a job immediately after. Maybe a call centre? But that seemed unlikely given how uninterested she was in any sort of conversation. He'd laughed out loud to himself even picturing her speaking to anyone politely. What an impossible idea. But no matter what, Dean could see she was taking so many efforts to learn. He could respect that. For all he knew, she worked a day job, too. He was just never around to ascertain it.

Dean spent the rest of his day trying to figure out how to finish his work. It seemed impossible in  every way, but he was sure going to try. When the last lecture for the day ended, he quickly picked up his bag, flung the leather jacket over his shoulder and got out of his seat, only to be obstructed by Meg.

"Where you heading, pretty boy?"

"Home. You guys have fun at the beach."

Her brows furrowed. "You're not coming?"

Before Dean could reply, another guy from behind her spoke up. "Oh, he needs to figure his shit out first. Trying to ace the class and all."

Nick, Dean remembered. His name was Nick and he was the asshole who always snickered in the back of the class when Zachariah gave him a hard time.

"He's better at this than all of us put together," Meg shot him down, but Nick only smirked and sidestepped Dean to walk out of class.

Dean couldn't care less. He did thank Meg for extending the invitation though. She'd been very supportive of him in the class and otherwise. He knew that he could trust her and Cas without question, and that was something.

Dean didn't pay any attention to the door on the opposite side out of habit when he got home. Since the rare opportunity had presented itself to him, he just walked into his room, pushed the jacket and the bag in a chair, stripped down to his boxers and threw himself on the bed face first.

Sleep. He needed some sleep to function and before he could even complete that thought, Dean was out like a light.

The room was immersed in complete darkness when he woke up, and Dean sat up bolt, his heart pounding, before he remembered that it was Friday evening and he still had 5 days to finish the stupid assignment from hell. He let himself breathe in and out deeply a few times before pushing himself off the bed. On his way out, he grabbed his black T-shirt and pulled it on. He took a minute to splash water on his face before dragging his feet to the kitchen to boil water for instant noodles. That would have to do. Only when he turned around did he notice a small figure huddled in the corner of the sofa scribbling furiously on a small notepad. Black shirt, black tracks and a black beanie. Y/N looked ready for ninja action.

"What're you doing here?" Dean asked, all sleep suddenly gone.

"Uhhh I pay the rent?" She replied. "More than you."

Oh, how he had missed the snark.

"I meant why are you home at this time," he said patiently, going to sit on the sofa opposite to her. "You work nights, don't you?"

"I took this weekend off," she said, without looking up from her little notepad.

"Why?"

She looked up this time, judging whether or not it was worth telling him, then muttered quietly. "I'm visiting my family."

That seemed fair enough, but another thought had stuck Dean- if she had to request an off, that meant she worked weekends, too. That looked like a lot of hard work.

"Does your family live close by?"

"Close enough," she muttered, her tone effectively ending the conversation. Dean left her to it, going back to his noodles. He briefly wondered if he should ask her if she wanted some, then decided he would make for two anyway. If worse came to worst, he'd have to put the rest in the fridge and reheat it the next day.

She looked up again when he put a bowl in front of her.

"Chicken noodle," Dean commented, taking his seat back. "Eat."

And she dead ass picked up the bowl and emptied it in a minute flat. All Dean could do was stare.

"You want me to finish yours, too?" She grinned, clearly smug about his shocked expression, then shook her head a little. "Thanks for the noodles. I was hungry."

"Yeah, I could tell," he murmured, trying to scarf  his own noodles.

"Why are you up at 1?" She asked, and Dean realized he'd never actually checked the time. She probably had her sleep cycle inverted anyway.

"I've got to finish my assignment," he said.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "It's Friday night. You got nothing better to do with it?"

Dean had a retort somewhere about how she wasn't doing anything too exciting with her life either, but it got stuck in his throat, because the remnant of her grin was still visible in her odd eyes. It was distracting. He just blurted out the truth. All of it, from the delayed assignment that had to be done five times, to the ruined sheets from the water.

Her face was a delicate mask of horror when he was done.

"I don't blame you for any of it," Dean clarified quickly. "I just don't know how the hell I'm going to finish it."

"How much are you done with?" She asked, and even without looking, Dean could hear how sorry she was.

"One set of the sheets. That's a total of 5 sheets and the assignment one and a half times."

"Hey you have one set done, the rest is easy right?"

Dean stared. "How is that easy? It took me the better part of 4 days to get 5 sheets drafted. I just have 5 days for 20 more sheets."

"Just Glass trace it." She shrugged, like it was the simplest solution.

"Excuse me, what?"

She looked at him like he'd suddenly grown a third eye, but elaborated all the same. "You have one set of all drawings done, so just trace it."

"How?"

She grinned cockily again. "Wait here."

Dean watched as she disappeared into her room and appeared with a light bulb, a holder and an extension cable. She screwed the bulb to the holder, attached it to the extension, which she then connected to the nearest switch.

"Hand me some scotch tape," she ordered and Dean followed her instruction, curious to see what she was up to.

Y/N carefully taped the bulb to the underside of the glass surfaced table he'd been using as the makeshift drafting board.

"Hand me your completed sheet," she said and Dean did. Y/N mounted the sheet on the table. She then placed another blank sheet over it, perfectly aligning the edges, then turned on the bulb.

At first, nothing happened, but when she turned the lights off for the whole living room, with only the bulb under the table glowing, he understood the term "Glass tracing" exactly. The bulb was illuminating the lines drawn on the sheet below to reflect it on the sheet above. The section, isometric view and components of an diesel engine were perfectly visible on the new sheet, too. All he had to do was take a pencil and trace it out now.

"I'll be damned," he swore softly and somewhere over him in the dark, Y/N's soft chuckle sounded.

She turned the lights on.

"That should help," she said. "I can't believe you didn't know about this. What sort of Mechanical student are you?"

Dean was asking himself the same question. For crying out loud, he'd been an assistant in college for 3 years. How did he not know?

"Let me take a look at your report," she asked, and he handed that to her, too, mutely, still lost in his own thoughts about the trick.

"This seems easy enough," she commented, reading through his assignment. "Calculating the load on the engine, I see. If you get the formula correct, the derivations are easy enough. This is good math."

He nodded, mentally realigning the time-table he'd drawn for himself in his head. He had a lot more time on his hand now.

"Tell you what, just get done with all your sheets while you are at it. Who knows, maybe after the weekend, you wouldn't have to worry about them at all."

She turned to leave for her room, but Dean stopped her.

"Hey, Y/N!" He called. "Thanks."

Her Y/E/C eyes were ambivalent. "For what?"

"For… for letting me know about this trick."

She didn't dismiss him quickly, like he'd come to expect, instead, she tilted her head to a side and then murmured, "You surprise me, Dean Winchester."

He hung his head, expecting as much. "Because I'm stupid enough to not know about it?"

"Because you are sincere enough to not know about it," she said, not as praise, but as a statement. Somehow that just gave more meaning to her words. "Not very many people are that sincere… they all know the cheat codes… except you, apparently."

"Thanks… I guess?" Dean frowned, unsure what else to say.

"Get some sleep, Romeo. I'm sure you can afford some more of that now."

Long after Dean had settled in his bed, her words still hung in the air. Something about the way she'd said it made him think that sincerity was a quality she valued. If only she wasn't so cryptic, he'd know what to make out of her.

The next day he'd fried enough eggs and bacon for two. When he went over to knock on her door, it was locked. Again. Who knew how early she had gotten up to see her family. Dean wondered if they were as weird as she was.

Having the whole house to himself for the weekend made him restless, and it was hard to believe that just a week back he had been hoping for this very thing with all his heart. Nevertheless, he put his time alone to good use, tracing all sheets to the best of his abilities. He was smart, he knew better than to just blindly trace, so he made sure that all the drawings had light guidelines in the background to make it look like they had all been drafted individually. It took a little more time, but it was thorough. It assuaged some of the guilt he felt for tracing.

Come Sunday evening, Dean found himself lounging back on the sofa, phone in his hand. He'd been so busy that he'd never had time to reply to Sam's hundred missed calls or messages.

His brother picked up on the second ring.

"If I didn't know better, I'd have thought that you disinherited me," Sam jibed and, even thought Dean could hear his brother's scoff, there was also a petulant hint of accusal in it.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, running a hand over his face. "Things have been crazy around here."

"Crazy enough to forget that you have a little brother? You could have at least picked up one call."

Dean wanted to laugh out loud, not because Sam's worry was hilarious, but because it was comforting. Over the last year since he'd started at Stanford, Dean worried if Sam would grow distant, love his new, exciting life more than the one Dean could provide him in the dusty town of Lawrence, but Sam had never fallen back on his calls, and even though Dean used to be rueful about the two or three calls in a week, turned out Sam was much better at keeping contact than he was.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I know you must've been worried."

"Worried?" Sam said. "I went so crazy worrying that I almost drove over."

Oh. That wasn't good.

"But you didn't," Dean tried meekly. He was really feeling bad now.

"Yeah, only because Jess said I should call up the University pretending to be a worried kin. But, I was a worried kin."

Dean smirked. "Jess, huh? At least you're talking to her."

That calmed down Sam some. "Some student body person told me your attendance checked out and I know you wouldn't pull a bunking stunt in the first week. That's how I knew you were alive."

Sam lecturing him like a mother? Oh how the tables had turned, but secretly it made Dean feel all calm inside.

"Tell you what?" Dean tried to placate him. "I think I have the next weekend free. How about I drive over? It's like 6 hours. We can grab a few beers and I'll tell all about my misfortunes."

"Misfortunes, huh?"

You have no clue little, brother.

"Something like that," Dean smiled, because not all of it had actually been unfortunate.

"Sounds like a plan," Sam smiled. "I'll look forward to it. Don't stand me up."

Would the kid ever stop whining? "Do I look like the busty blonde who bolted on you yesterday?"

Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. "This one didn't bolt. Sleep on that." With that call ended.

Dean looked at the phone for a hot minute. Even Sam was getting action- Sam, the eternal virgin Sam! While, he, the apparent leather- jacketed stud the rest of his class thought he was, was stuck doing homework.

Such was life.

Monday morning was relatively more cheerful. If he stayed up for the rest of the two days as well, he'd manage to get the assignment written, too, the remaining three and a half times. That way he could catch up with rest of it before weekend and then he'd be free to go see his brother. It sounded like a lot of work, but, at least, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Even Bobby noticed when he caught him whistling.

"You're happy, boy!"

Dean nodded, putting his head back into fixing a bike that none of Bobby's other boys could figure out what was wrong with.

"Is it the girl?" He asked, and Dean threw back his head, laughing.

"Who? Y/N? God, Bobby no. It's not like that. She's a crazy girl."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Dean considered. "Nothing actually, but it's not like that." He'd be getting way more action if it had. But he answered Bobby's question more fully now. "I'm happy cause I'm going to see my brother next weekend… if there's no work here that is."

"Go on, boy… there's nothing that we can't manage here," Bobby said gruffly. "Didn't know you had a brother."

"I do, a little brother. He's up at Stanford," Dean said proudly.

"Two University boys? Your folks must be proud."

Dean started working back on the bike, fixing the wench under the engine. "They're both dead."

"That's… uhhg-"

"It's okay, Bobby. It's been a while now, we were kids then."

Dean drove back thinking if he should have told Bobby the truth. The full truth that is, about his parent's death. Sure his mom had died when he was a kid, but his dad had been alive up until a few years ago. Dean just wasn't sure he was ready to talk about him yet.

He walked up distracted. Absentminded enough to even realise that the lift was working. Finally! He was all the way up and almost to his room when a voice that seemed too familiar called out to him.

Y/N was standing by his makeshift worktable, looking harassed.

"What happened to you?" Dean asked, rushing over. "You look-"

"Like someone drowned me 5 times and was brought me back just as many times?"

"Well… yeah." She looked exhausted, sleep deprived and ready to kill." Knowing her, he wouldn't put that past her.

"The traffic on the road sucked!" She said. "I thought I'd never make it back home in time."

"It's okay, you're back now," Dean urged. "Sit down, you look ready to fall."

She shook her head, then pulled out something from the puffy satchel hanging across her frame, and dropped a thick bundle on the table. "Here."

"What's that?" Dean asked curiously.

"Your assignment done five times over." She looked pleased with herself.

His eyes widened as he bent down to pick up the neatly stapled bundle of papers, scourging through leaf after leaf of tall pointed handwriting, neatly compiled into what was now the assignment.

"When? How?" This was better than he could have expected.

She hesitated, the way she did when she was sharing something she wasn't sure if she should. "Me and my sister did it together. I wrote it, looking at the one you'd already done and she drew all the diagrams. I mean, you're new, it's not like that douchebag professor would know your handwriting to notice the difference. Besides, all your assignments from now on would be typed, anyway. This will never come up."

That was probably the longest speech she'd ever uttered.

"You spent your time away with family writing my imposition? Why?" Dean was astounded. It was all beyond him. The girl worked so hard so she could get a weekend away to meet her family and then she uses that time slogging through his work? Wow, she was crazier than he ever gave her credit for.

Y/N stole looks from under her long lashes. "Well, it was my fault you had to do it anyway and then some of it got drowned… also because of me." She paused for a second, looking him  full in the eyes. "And, also, because my sister isn't like me, she's a nice person who didn't mind carrying my guilt and helping a stranger."

"Well, looks to me your sister is a lot like you… Good," Dean mumbled, still shocked. This cleared up his week completely. He would surely get to see Sam now. "Thank you so much, Y/N. This just- you just did me huge favor."

"Just don't ever mention it," she all but warned. "Ever."

She hurriedly readjusted the satchel and then turned to leave.

"Where're you going?"

"Work! Now shut up, so I can leave."

But Dean just couldn't let her go yet. "You'll go to work in those?" She was back in the baggy black pants, grey hoodie and beanie.

"Oh, I can always change when I get there," she smiled unexpectedly, like it was her own private joke.

"Hey, Y/N," Dean interrupted her again, just to annoy her and her expression didn't disappoint when she turned around.

"What now, Romeo?"

He simply grinned. "Try not to murder someone tonight."

She winked. "I'll try." Then the door slammed shut, leaving Dean grinning in its wake. Maybe not everything was unfortunate after all.

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

A/N 2: Any guesses about where this is headed? 

A/N 3: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

Here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

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[padasteph-nie]

I Can Never Clear My Mind of You

Pairing: Destiel 

Word Count: 1315

Warnings: Feelings of shame (not quite out of the closet), gay love (obviously), fluff.

A/N: For @thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s Seasons of Love - Colors of Fall Challenge!!!

It had been awhile since Dean had last came here. A beautiful spot, tucked behind some trees and small hills, not too far from the bunker. This was his favorite time of year, so he felt it was right to come today. 

Dean took in the fresh, crisp, autumn air and watched the water move with each breeze. Back when he first found this spot, he would come here at least once a week to clear his head. It’s been his favorite spot since. Even more so, now that it was something he shared with Cas. 

Dean smiled at the memory of the first time Cas found him here... 

It was about a year ago, same time of year. Dean loved coming here in the fall. The sun would glisten off the pond, giving the golds and oranges of the autumn changes an extra magnificent glow. It was nearly blinding, but in a good way. Dean had came out here trying to clear his head after the last disaster he and his brother had to clean up. It was a breath of fresh air to be able to look at the world and take in it’s beauty for once. Until something else had caught his eye, that something else being Cas. 

Cas came from the opposite direction, and he watched as he slowly approached from the other side of the pond. Cas didn’t fit in with the autumn colors. His trench coat looked bland against the fire colored scenery. But Dean could see his ice blue eyes from a mile away. They stood out like a diamond in the rough, making everything that he was just in awe of, dull and uninteresting. Dean never let his eyes drop as Cas made his away around the pond to stand next to him. 

“Dean,”Cas greeted him with a single word, and a nod. 

“Hey, what brings you out here?” Dean was playing coy, staring out over the scenery, as if Cas didn’t notice him watching as he approached. 

“Just wanted to see what you were doing. I am worried about you.” He admitted. 

“Worried?” Dean blinked slowly and faced him, “we won this fight, its over. What could you be worried about now?” He was honestly confused.

“Well, the only time you come out here, its usually because something is dragging you down.” Cas pointed out. 

“When have you noticed me coming out here?” Dean furrowed his brow and cocked his head, trying to hide that he is ever weak enough to need a breather.

“Dean.” Cas tried to break him with one word. He sighed, “Dean, you’ve been coming out here almost as long as you and Sam have lived in this bunker. You come out here about once a week, sometimes less. But its almost always when something is weighing you down.” Cas stared at Dean with worry.

“Well nothing is weighing me down. So you don’t have to worry about me.” Dean straightened back up and peered across the pond again. Cas ignored Dean’s stubbornness and joined in with him, taking in the view. “How long, Cas?” Dean questioned after a few quiet minutes.

“Excuse me?” Cas was the one that was confused now.

“How long have you been following me out here?” Dean continued to stare into the distance, waiting for Cas to answer.

“You’ve never been alone out here.” Cas admitted, there was a hint of shame in his voice, but also a hint of pride.

“So you know.” Dean bowed his head.

“Know what?” Cas tried to play it cool.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Dean turned expectantly towards him.

Cas looked away and then met his eyes, “Yes I know.”

“Say it.” Dean demanded.

“I know that you come out here when you’re-” Cas paused to choose his words, he didn’t want to insult him, “when you’re... frustrated.” 

Dean just nodded with a sarcastic smirk across his face, “frustrated Cas? You’ve been watching me for a year, surely this is the only time you listen to my prayers.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Cas was always so serious.

“Cas, man! I know there has to be at least ten times you have knowingly listened to me trying to reason with God about this. You’re an angel, aren’t you supposed to help answers prayers?” At this point Dean’s entire body was facing Cas, tension rising between them.

“You weren’t praying to me, and you weren’t asking a question that God could answer. Only you can answer that.” Cas looked to the ground. 

“God can’t answer me?” Dean’s voice was raised, “He is the son-of-a-bitch that sent this damn angel after this ‘righteous man,’“ Dean did finger quotations.

“God sent me to save the righteous man, he didn’t make me fall.” Cas clarified. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean tensed up, waiting for the answer.

“Why don’t you tell me? Why haven’t you tried to pray to me if you have been wanting my help?” Cas said, matter-of-factly.

“Come on, that’s not how it works.” Dean turned to hide his bashfulness.

“You can’t say it to me. Even though you know I’ve known. Why do you expect me to do it for you?” Cas was stern, never dropping his gaze.

“Say what, Cas? That I’m confused? I pray to God because I don’t understand why he sent-” Dean did a long sigh, “I don’t understand why he sent you. Was this his intentions?” 

“Was what his intentions?” Cas stepped closer, heart beating almost through his chest.

“This Cas! You, me! Is this some test? I know he don’t care. But society has everyone thinking that there is only one way. But your big ass blue eyes-” Dean shook his head.

“Say it Dean!” Cas demanded.

“I have always loved women, they are beautiful and sexy. But this, what we have... its different. I don’t understand. You’re not some hot bar maid I want to lay with. I look at you and... its like looking at the stars. Man I don’t know. I feel some sort of way. I just want God to tell me if this is what I’m supposed to feel.” Dean looked in the opposite direction, avoiding eye contact.

“God doesn’t choose how you feel, he only cares that you feel it.” Cas reached out hesitantly, but eventually grabbed Dean’s hand, “Dean, please. I need you to say it to me. This was no one’s intentions. But I was sent to save you, and that was all it took. I fell in love with humanity, but really...” Cas stopped himself when Dean squeezed his hand. 

Dean turned and looked deeply into Cas’ eyes, “what? But really what, Cas?” He pleaded. 

“I fell in love, with you.” Cas smiled sadly at the tear that released from Dean’s eye.

“Cas.” Dean still felt confused, but he knew it wasn’t him. He knew how he felt about the angel and he knew it was pure. He tried to piece his thoughts together. He choked down the rage he felt every time he thought about how society would react to them, but this feeling surged inside of him. Fuck society, he looked up and met Cas’ ice blue eyes, the galaxy staring back at him. God, did he love this man, “I love you.” He finally said the words, and all the pressure, all the tension he has built up for years, it was all gone. 

Cas smiled, crying. He nodded, not being able to say anything else.

Dean reached up and wiped a tear from his face, “I love you, and I know its the forever kind of love.” He leaned forward and softly kissed Cas’ lips. Cas returned the effort and then quickly buried his head into Dean’s shoulder, sobbing happily. Dean just wrapped his arms around him and held him, taking in the beautiful scenery.

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

CYOSTODA pt. 6: Dean Picks Truth

Characters: Dean, Sam, OFC Leah, and reader

Word Count: 6600-ish (I’m not even sorry this time)

Warnings: SMUT, voyeurism, f/f stuff, oral sex, sex - it’s porn

A/N: Okay, so if you’re following along, you should know that this is the part where all the sex happens. This is the conclusion for this particular thread of the story. So much love to our captain @littlegreenplasticsoldier for making this happen and for her patience while I had stuff going on. Also, love for @kayteonline and @saenalife for beta’ing and keeping me going when I hit the smut wall. What a crew to be a part of. Hope you enjoy!!

Get caught up:

Part 1 by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Part 2 by @gemini75eeyore

Part 3 by @deandoesthingstome

Part 4 by @rizlowwritessortof

Part 5 by @saenalife (saena i can’t tag you!)

From part 5:

Although you would have loved to keep going, you didn’t think the game was quite done yet. There was no doubt in your mind that you had won this round, so you pulled away with a lingering kiss to the tip of his thumb and looked up at Dean with a tantalizing smile.

“So… truth or dare?”

His eyes focus on your lips for another few seconds, slick and shiny and hanging open a little. When he finally looks you in the eyes, he still wears a glazed-over expression.

“Dean?” you gently prompt, unsure that he’d actually heard you the first time. You start to reach for him, ready to shake him if need be, but with a clench on his jaw he seems to snap himself out of it. Staring you down intensely, he answers without a flinch.

“Truth.”

Your eyes remain locked with his, both of you unwilling to break the moment. He's finally giving you the look, it's more hungry and needy than you expected, but still exciting. Though he’s still kneeling above you, you've got the upper hand, holding his stare with a fierce look of your own; one you'd never tossed his way before, never really had the opportunity, but there's no reason to back down now.

You close your mouth to swallow, still tasting him on your tongue, before asking, “Have you ever thought of doing anything like that to me before?” You dart your eyes between his, anxious for the honest truth.

He pauses, breathing deeply through his nose as he clenches his jaw, eyes narrowed slightly as he tries to pull back control.

“Fucking yes.” Leah answers, her voice cracking the tension.

Your brows shoot up and you pinch your lips together to try to hold in the laughter threatening to splutter through them, only succeeding slightly. The stare down is over, Dean’s dragging his palm over his face and looking over at Sam, shooting him a look you haven't been able to decipher in all your time with them.

“Good to know, Leah, but I think that was Dean's turn,” you smile wide at her, giving her a mischievous up-down glance. She purses her lips, miming locking them and tossing the key.

Dean's taking the opportunity to settle back into his spot, shifting his hips as he straightens one leg, bending the other at the knee to prop his forearm on it, watching the exchange between you and Leah with interest.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Well?”

“You wanna know if I've thought of putting my fingers in your mouth?” he tilts his head, “Or are you wondering if I've thought of having anything else in your mouth?”

Shit. Oh, he's good. You look to Leah, looking just as thrown as you, then to Sam who's looking at you smugly. He's got you in it now.

“Both.” You shrug, still trying to hold on to the confidence from a moment ago.

“Yes,” he grunts before sipping down some whiskey.

You bob your head as you wait for him to go on. “Wait, that’s it? Just ‘yes’?”

“You didn’t ask for specifics.” He opens his hands at you in a ‘what can ya do’ gesture.

“Okay, well -”

“Nope, you got your truth. Leah’s turn.”

You turn to both Leah and Sam for help, but she just looks at you apologetically, and Sam ticks his head to the side in silent agreement with his brother.

Dean flashes a wink at you, watches you scowl in return before facing Leah with a grin. “Leah, truth or dare?”

She scans the room, eyeing up each of you and simmering in the tension. So far a few things have happened, but nothing that can’t be brushed off with whiskey and a shrug.

“Truth,” she answers, narrowing her eyes at Dean.

His cheek scrunches up in a crooked smile. His eyes flicker to you, then back to Leah. “Alright, Miss Leah, have you ever been with another woman?”

Her mouth drops open into a nervous grin, and a flush of red runs down her neck. She looks you over as you lean in to hear her answer.

“Sort of.” Your face lifts in amusement and curiosity. She pulls on her lip as she watches your response, her eyes trailing over your face, to your neck, to your chest. “There was a girl a few years ago, we both admitted we were curious, so eventually we got brave and started making out, but we both got too shy to go very far, so it didn’t go much farther than kissing and grabbing each others tits.” She shrugged, “It’s not something I’d be opposed to trying again, though...Just sayin’.”

“Just sayin’,” you nod and toss another wink her way as you look at her hands, noticing how delicate and feminine they seem; quickly the image of her hand on your breast fills your imagination.

“Why, Dean? You got a thing for girl on girl action?” She teases him, breaking you out of your thoughts to check out his reaction.

“Well...I mean…” He mumbles, tilting his head to find the right answer that doesn’t make him sound like a pervert. “I just enjoy beautiful women and sometimes they come in pairs.”

“Ah huh,” she grins then shifts her eyes to Sam. He’s sitting, patiently waiting and watching her fingers as they trail over the rim of her glass, “What about you, Sam?”

“What about me, Leah?”

“What do you think about watching girls together?”

He lowers his head, giving her a playful glare, “You haven’t asked if I want truth or dare?”

She rolls her eyes, pouting, “Okay, so truth or dare, Sam?”

“Truth.”

She practically bounces on the spot, happy that Sam is playing along, “So, Sam,” she tugs her lip between her teeth, taking a quick breath as she looks at you then back to Sam, “What do you think about watching two women together?”

He hums softly, watching her in amusement as she watches him, waiting. “Yeah,” he answers, his voice gravelly and deep, “Yeah, I like to watch.”

There’s a slight pause as you wait to see if he plans to clarify, but he leaves it. Your heart rate increases and you are nearly panting from all the information that’s been gathered with this go-round. Leah looks to be in the same state, her chest huffing out with each breath as she shifts in her spot. “It’s your turn, Y/n,” she reminds you. You nod and turn your attention back to Sam. He’s already staring at you, again with that smolder, which you’re not feeling very confident about resisting this time.

“Hey Sam,” you whisper, like you’re seeing him for the first time that evening.

His lips part in a flirty grin, flashing just a bit of his teeth, “Hey.” He pulls it back, making his expression a bit more serious. “So, truth or dare?”

You look down to the floor, lips pursed in an o-shape as you try to relax your breathing, trying to decide if you’re ready to snap the tension in the room just yet, or push it off with another truth.

“Time out,” you look up to see Leah with her hands in a “t” shape. Sam and Dean share a look, obviously questioning the validity of a time out during truth or dare, but she ignores them, reaching a hand out to you as she stands. “Hang on guys.”

You take her hand and the two of you make your way to the motel room door. She opens it, waiting for you to step outside before following you, both of you huddling from the temperature change.

“Sorry,” she starts, “I just...wanted to make sure you were okay with this.”

“Oh,” you answer, your confusion evident.

“Look, you live and work with those guys, so whatever happens, you still have to see them every day. I get to walk away from this either tonight...or tomorrow,” she shrugs, “I just don’t want to make things awkward with all of you. I mean, Jesus Christ, if you want to keep going with this, I am so game, but if you want to slow down or whatever, we can tone this down.”

“Ohhhh,” you nod.

“You just seemed a little tense and I didn’t want you to feel like, pressured or anything.”

Goodness, she just keeps getting better. “Thanks. Yeah, yeah. I uh, I appreciate that, but I’m good.” You nod, feeling more confident knowing Leah has your back, “I mean, masturbation and wet dreams can only take you so far, right?”

“Right.” She agrees, making you both giggle. “Okay, well, let’s get back in there.” Leah reaches out, pulling you in for a quick, tight hug.

You push the door back open, drawing the faces of Sam and Dean away from their own conversation and toward you with questioning glances.

“Everything okay?” Dean lifts his eyebrows.

“Yup,” you return to your seat. “Things are great. Now where were we?”

Leah settles back in her spot as well, nodding at you in encouragement. You catch Sam and Dean sharing another look, making you wonder what you missed while outside.

“Well,” Sam starts, drawing your attention with his husky voice, “We’re waiting for you to choose truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

He leans back a little bit more, resting his arm on the bed. “Did you like having your mouth on Dean last time, Y/n?”

“That sounds like a tru-uth,” Leah teases in a sing-song way, but he ignores her, watching for your response.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, pushing yourself toward Sam anxiously.

“Good,” he leans forward, “Then I dare you to lick Dean-” You suck in a breath, your eyes widening in anticipation. Sam adds, “Just from the waist up...for now.”

You turn to Dean, finding him watching you, his hands in fists and his thumbs rubbing against his other fingers. You’re already nearly on your hands and knees from the way you were leaning into Sam, so you pivot to fully face Dean, crawling the few paces his way. As soon as you start to move in his direction, his hands reach to pull off his overshirt. It’s hurried and ungraceful as he scrambles to get his shirts off, but encouraging.

You’re between his spread legs, your arms on either side of his hips, just lingering; your eyes roam over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Taking it all in without having to excuse it for any reason other than wanting to look.

“Sammy,” you drawl as you look at him from the corner of your eye, “You wanna see my mouth on your brother again?” You slide your tongue across your teeth. He nods at you with a ‘get on with it’ kind of tilt of his head. You catch the look on Leah’s face as you return your eyes to Dean, she’s got her lip between her teeth, watching the two of you intently. You lean in, feeling the warmth radiate from Dean’s skin and turn your mouth toward him, barely brushing him with your lips, just tickling him with your soft breaths over his cheek and jaw.

You lean in closer, reaching the hinge of his jaw and his ear, sticking out the tip of your tongue to just skim at the shell, and feeling him suck in a breath beneath you. You quickly dip lower, your open mouth covering the skin over the muscles of his neck, pulled tight as he draws back to give you room. Your tongue just licks at the skin, savoring the same taste you got from his thumb, but also remnants of the motel soap. You pull back as you lower your head to his collarbone, wetting your tongue before you push it between your lips and lick a long stripe from the muscle of his shoulder to the base of his jaw. He tenses beneath you, pulling up straighter with your movement like he’s trying to draw it out even further.

Smiling, you bring your mouth lower to his chest, bringing a hand up to rest over his anti-possession tattoo for balance, you kiss at the opposite side, smacking your lips and licking at the freckled skin, moving over him in no particular pattern - just dragging, kissing, licking at every bit you see.

Leah and Sam both shift, and you glance away from Dean to see what they’re doing. In your peripherals, you can see that Leah’s mouth is hanging open, her tongue licking around at the air, mimicking your movements, her fingers fidget at the hem of her shirt. Sam is leaning back, his eyes watching you, dragging slowly along the arch of your back, staring like he’s got all the time in the world. You let out a low hum of satisfaction, then push your hips up, arching your back to bend further down.

Dean’s muscles twitch under you, his pecs flexing and relaxing as you hover. You close your mouth, wetting your tongue before circling around his nipple in a slow swirl. His chest jerks in a shuddering breath which you mimic before diving in; your mouth covers the pink skin, sucking slightly as your tongue flicks over the little pointed tip and he grunts out a ‘yeah’ above you.

You spread your knees to dip lower, tracing the lines of his ribs, his muscles, then switching to the other side to do the same, sometimes flattening your tongue in a wide stripe, other times just tickling him with the tip; alternating hot breaths and cooling blows of air in your wake. His chest rises and falls, and his body squirms beneath you. You reach the waist of his jeans, his skin bunching a little and you can’t help yourself as you gently scrape your teeth against him, tugging just slightly at the flesh and making him hiss.

“I said lick, Y/n,” Sam scolds.

You pull away from the top of Dean’s jeans, giving Sam a playfully repentant look from under your eyelashes, “Sorry, Sam.”

“S’okay. I think it’s Leah’s turn now, anyway,” he answers, his eyes squinting at you knowingly.

Dean whines from deep in his chest and Leah breathes out a sigh. You plant a soft peck to the spot you’d nibbled and pull away, trailing your fingers down Dean’s leg as you slide back to your seat, licking your lips with an ‘mmm’ of satisfaction.

Dean head is rolled back on his shoulders facing the ceiling. He blows a breath out between pursed lips, his chest arched up as he sucks in more air. “Right. Alright,” he clears his throat, rolling his head to look at Leah, “Truth or dare, darlin?”

“Dare,” she responds, staring at his torso, darting her eyes over the broad stretch of his skin.

Dean shoots upright, pushing off his hands to sit straight, a smile crinkling his face and eyes shining with excitement. “Leah,” he pauses until she looks him in the eyes, “I dare you to put your hand down Y/n’s pants for the next round.”

Her eyes widen as she looks at you, her mouth popped open in surprise and her forehead scrunched with her silent question. You respond with a quick up-down nod. She bites her lip, then slides the whiskey out of her way, shuffling on her knees until she’s in front of you.

“You sure?” She barely whispers.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay.” She runs her hands up your arms, over your shoulders until she cradles your neck in her hands. “First though,” she whispers, pulling you toward her as she tilts her head, her eyes fluttering shut. You mirror her, and follow her lead feeling her lips slot against yours in a gentle pucker. She’s soft and small, and it feels a little strange to kiss someone without stubble or rough lips, but it feels good. You tentatively lift a hand to cup her cheek, instinctively parting your lips to dart out your tongue, meeting hers as she does the same, making you gasp into each other’s mouths and then dive into each other, mouths parted and tongues tangling.

“Shiiiiit,” a hoarse voice whispers behind Leah, making your eyes pop open as you pull away.

“Oops,” she giggles against your cheek.

“Yeah,” you smile. “Okay, so, how should we…”

“How about like this?” She again shuffles on her knees, making her way around you until she’s at your back, her legs spread wide for you to rest between them. You pull your feet out from under you, bending your knees and spreading your thighs open as you lean into her, letting her take your weight against her as she rests against the bed.

Your head just rests on her shoulder; the two of you shift until you’re both comfortable and she can reach between your thighs, her arms beneath yours and resting on your torso.

“Ready?” she asks with her mouth on your ear.

You look at the brothers, their cheeks flushed, jaws clenched, eyes focused on Leah’s hands as they rest over your jeans. Her fingers are just settled in the creases where your thighs meet your core, your legs in a ‘V’ with one Winchester seated at an angle at each knee.

“Yeah,” you swallow and she moves her hands to the waist of your pants, sliding the button through the loop and pulling at the zipper. The way she’s settled behind you makes it look like they could be your own hands, working their way beneath your clothes, but the touch is different, every little movement taking you by surprise. Her left hand grips over your hipbone, her right hand slides down, straight to your center, all four fingers slipping between your panties and your folds. Your breath hitches at the unfamiliar touch.

Sam and Dean both choke down appreciative groans at the sight, watching the fabric shift as Leah’s hand slides back and forth over you, her fingers just grazing along the wetness she finds.

“This good?” she asks, her voice high and breathy.

“Yeah. Good,” you answer, swallowing down a gasp.

She nuzzles her cheek against yours, staring at Sam from beneath her lashes. “Sam?” He blinks flicking his eyes from between your legs to meet her eyes. “Truth or dare?”

“Ask Dean.” You and Leah both pull up a bit. He catches the movement, lifting a hand to stop you, “I’m going to give my turn to Dean.” Your forehead wrinkles as disappointment flashes across your features, but again, Sam reads you, offering you a comforting smile. “Just, trust me? Dean, go ahead.”

“O-okay,” Leah’s voice shakes, unsure of the turn of events, but you feel her chin shift on your shoulder as she looks at Dean. “Dean? Truth or dare?”

His shoulders rise and falls with heavy breaths, and you watch the skin and muscles and the lines of his ribs move with each one. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, but his eyes don’t move from watching Leah’s strokes as he answers, “Dare.”

You feel her cheek smush up against yours as she smiles. “Dean, I dare you to kiss Y/nnnn,” she draws out your name as she swipes her fingers over your clit, making you twitch, “everywhere below the waist - except where my hand is.”

Just the thought of Dean’s mouth on you sends a rush of arousal to your core, and you feel Leah’s fingers dipping just inside of you to swirl her fingers in it. Dean watches you roll your hips with it and pushes himself up to his knees, sliding along the carpet until he’s between your feet. His hands settle on your knees, palms hot through the fabric, before trailing down your thighs to the belt loops, hooking his fingers through them.

“These gotta come off, okay?” he asks with a lopsided grin.

You nod and lift your hips, making Leah’s fingers slide deep between your pussy lips. Dean starts to tug at your pants, doing his best to shimmy them over your hips until he can smoothly pull them down your legs, lifting each leg in the air as he pulls them over your feet and crumpling them into a pile at your side. He returns your feet to the floor, soles flat, but legs spread wide.

You tremble, a strange mixture of nerves and temperature making you shiver although you don’t really feel cold with Leah at your back and Dean in front of you and the whiskey warming your blood. He’s staring directly at your core, watching Leah’s hand as she dips her fingers in and out of you, a damp stain on your panties showing your arousal. His hands are spread out over your knees again, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, putting pressure on them for balance as he ducks his head, placing a kiss to the inside center of your left thigh.

The smooth skin of his shoulders slips against your legs as he lowers himself between them, and you hear his knees knock against the floor as me moves them back allowing himself room to bend lower, kissing all along your thigh. His mouth feels hot, and soft, contrasted with the shadow of stubble growing in that pull against your skin with a slight burn. His breaths heat your skin as he maps it with his lips.

You inhale a shaky breath, at the same time hearing someone else’s sharp intake of air. You snap your eyes to Sam. His eyes are darting from Leah, to her hand, to your rapidly rising and falling chest, to Dean’s head working its way over your thighs, then finally to your face. His eyes are dark and wide with lust. You stare him down now, watching him as your body reacts to what the other two are doing to you, your hands roaming to grasp at whatever you can.

Dean’s mouth keeps getting lower and lower, licking and mouthing at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, all hot and wet. Leah’s fingers stroke your skin at a steady pace, her middle and ring fingers sliding through the wetness from your entrance to your clit, her pointer and pinky sliding over the outside of your lips.

With your focus on Sam, you can only feel, and it’s amazing. Leah works you over so easily, it’s different than the usual hard massaging that you’d get on your clit from a guy. She swipes and spreads your wetness around, moving her fingers over your swollen flesh, then putting pressure around you, right against your bones - a slow build from a practiced hand. Dean, for his part, is grunting and almost snarling as he tastes you, flicking his tongue against your skin as he sucks kisses everywhere his mouth can reach, enjoying the flavor of you as much as you did him. Your fingers of your left hand become entwined with the fingers Leah is still pressing over your hip, your other hand rakes through Dean's hair, tempting you to grab hold and push him where you want him.

And Sam - Sam is watching your face - he’s watching your lips part, your teeth bared as you pant. He watches the pink color your cheeks, and the way your eyes widen when one of them hits a really sensitive spot. He watches as your skin goes dewey and shiny from the effort of sitting between those two as they tease and taste you, pushing you until you pull your lip between your teeth, making the pink skin go white from pressure. You lift your hips, trying to get just a little more...

“Y/n.” Sam says, pulling back your focus.

“Uh huh,” you manage to groan.

“Truth or dare?”

Your face pulls an almost painful expression as you try to think about anything other than Dean's face being inches away from your core, or the way Leah’s fingers are now steadily circling your clit. You can't figure out how to make your mouth form words so you grunt out the easier option. “Dare.”

“Show me how pretty you look as you come.”

“Yuh...yes, Sam,” you nod, holding back the whine you want to release at his tone. You swiftly make use of your hands to grab at the hem of your underwear, lifting your hips to pull them off. Dean, without a word, takes over once they're past your ass, dragging them, followed by his mouth, down your legs.

Leah is grinding her hips into the floor behind you, pressing kisses against your shoulder, your neck, tonguing at your ear, whispering about how good you feel. Dean makes a noise, like a broken “oh” drawing your attention back to him, catching his eyes focused in the sight before him, your pussy on display. Leah's fingers glisten with your arousal as she strokes you, her fingertips halting their circling, and now spreading you as best she can to give the boys a glimpse of your most intimate area.

For this moment, it’s easy to ignore the rough, stained carpet beneath you, and how one of the glasses has been knocked over leaving a new dark, wet spot, and how you still have your shirt on because you have better things to focus on. Like the way Dean is staring at you like you’re a Thanksgiving feast, and how Leah has started to rub her free hand up your torso to squeeze at your breast, and how Sam is clenching his jaw and rolling his shoulders like a lion ready to pounce.

“More,” you beg.

Dean obliges, sinking his head between your thighs, planting a kiss to each side as you feel Leah slide her fingers into you, pumping in and out. Suddenly, it’s all heat as Dean’s mouth meets Leah’s hand, and she slides her digits out of you with a moan feeling it, too. You take your eyes away from Sam to catch the sight of Dean poised at your entrance, licking your juices from Leah’s fingers, his tongue performing the same way Sam’s did earlier, only this time she’s coated them with your arousal instead of whiskey. He pushes the pointed tip between her fingers, spreading them apart until he can reach you, the first touch of his tongue causing you to jerk up your hips in surprise. Even at the angle you’re at, you can see the corners of his lips pull into a smile before he dives back in.

“Mo-oore,” you gasp as Dean barely pushes his tongue inside of you between Leah’s still parted fingers as they allow Dean to lick between them at your sensitive folds. She rolls her hips even harder behind you, whining at her own lack of friction as she strokes at you.

“Make her come.” Sam’s voice is soft, but close. He’s moved over, sitting beside you and Leah and talking softly in her ear. You feel her turn her head before you watch as she captures his mouth in a hungry kiss that he returns with equal vigor. You watch them, feeling her shift as Sam leans further into the kiss.

Dean reacts slowly, but after a moment he hums a quick ‘uh huh’ before pushing his mouth against you, licking as far into you as he can. He shakes his head back and forth, devouring you like a starved man as he ruts his hips against the carpet, licking you up and down and humming with each pass.

Leah starts to use the tips of her fingers, circling and flicking your sensitive, swollen clit. Your hips rock and stutter with the motions, chasing the sensations, feeling the peak of your orgasm swiftly approaching. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the delicious tension swirling low between your hips.

“Come on, beautiful. You gotta show me,” Sam pleads, deep and strained.

“Sam,” you respond, feeling the air from his words on your cheek. You turn your head toward them, and blindly reach a hand up to grasp at him, just catching the collar of his shirt and pulling him away from Leah to yourself. His mouth meets yours and he immediately takes control of the kiss. You respond with pliant lips, letting him ravage your mouth with his, and it’s just what you needed.

A few more strokes and you’re there, gasping for air as though you’re drowning; hips jerking up as your pussy flutters and convulses from your orgasm, your back curling as it rolls through you, sending an electric rush of relief over your skin.

You cry out repeatedly, nothing but meaningless jumbles of words. Behind you, Leah gasps and whines, desperate for her own release as Dean hums and grunts between your legs, nearly slurping at the flood of wetness you release. Sam whispers praise and curses as he pulls away watching you as you let out your cries of relief.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you whine when you can finally form words again. “Jesussss fuckingchrist.” Your chest heaves as you regain focus, opening your eyes and staring at the water-stained ceiling. “Oh God.”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles, still nestled between your legs, placing soft kisses between breaths. You look down to see his hair, messy and damp from sweat, his back rising as he catches his breath.

“C’mere,” you make grabby hands at Dean, making him flash a lazy grin and push up to his hands and knees. He crawls up so that he’s just over you, and you rest your hands on his face and stare at him through your blissed-out daze. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling his lips to yours. You can taste yourself there, sweet and tangy on Dean’s swollen, soft lips and it’s satisfying in ways you’d only ever imagined. It’s not a long kiss, you’re both still too out of air to keep it up, but you slide your lips to kiss over his cheek, planting your lips onto him firmly with each shift until you reach his ear.

“You should really show Leah how good you are at that,” you whisper. He responds with a stuttering groan and you push on his shoulders to give yourself space. You twist around to face Leah, cupping her cheek to quickly give her a kiss and a thank you as well. She nods and breathes out shakily. You start to try to untangle yourself when two huge hands reach out to grab you beneath your arms.

Sam pulls you out of the tangled mess of limbs and against his chest, your legs straddle over his as he stretches them out again. You can feel the hard line of his cock through his jeans, but you’re still a boneless mess, so you rest against him lazily, letting him hold you and plant kisses all over your face.

“That,” kiss “was,” kiss “incredible,” kiss.

“Yeah,” you agree, nuzzling against him, basking in the heat radiating from him. You can hear movement to your side - clothes rustling, hushed words and giggles, then the squeak of mattress springs, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from Sam’s chest, savoring the loud thumping of his heart under your ear. It’s not until you hear the high-pitched pornographic moan that escapes Leah that you finally look over.

Dean’s head is between her thighs and she’s laid out over his torso, her mouth hovering over his cock. His knees are bent and you can see the flex of his muscles as he tries to keep himself from thrusting up to her, waiting for her to lower her mouth onto him. His cock is swollen, bobbing with his pulse just beneath her lips, but her eyes are screwed shut, her mouth still hanging open from her moan, and you know exactly what he must be doing to her.

It reignites the need within you and you start to subconsciously rock your hips in time with the way Leah is riding Dean’s face.

“Leah,” Sam snaps her out of her daze, her eyes hazy with desperation. “Suck him off.”

Her eyes roll back in her head as Dean moans against her, but then she’s licking her lips, getting them good and wet as she reaches a hand out to grasp at the base of his cock. Dean’s hips jerk a little at the touch, and you watch as she slides her hand up to just under the head. She places a soft kiss there, her lips spread in a grin, and you hear Dean gasp at the touch. After getting the reaction she wanted, she then lowers her mouth over him. You imagine she’s taking the moment to swirl her tongue over him until her lips meet her hand, and she slides down further, taking more of him into her mouth. At least, you think, that’s what you’d do.

At that moment, Sam ruts up against you, the roughness of his jeans giving a bit of friction to your sensitive core and making you suck in air. Your attention snaps back to him, his eyes watching you with obvious lust and amusement. With his fingers stretched wide, his hands trail over your back, roaming until they reach around to your front, and slipping down to the hem of your shirt so that he can slide them underneath along your skin.

“You should get naked, too,” you remind him, pinching at the fabric of his shirt.

He huffs out a short laugh, but pushes you off his lap, standing to shed off his clothes. You pull your shirt off as well, the sounds from Dean and Leah amplify a fresh wave of need, making your muscles buzz with excitement.

Sam reveals more and more skin, and you're grateful for the opportunity to gaze at him, admiring the long, lean muscles of his form. He snags a condom from his wallet and sets it on the bed before lowering his jeans. You watch as he reveals that v of muscle next to his hips and follow the lines straight to his cock, finally free from the confining fabric of his jeans finding it's more than you could have hoped for. Your mouth waters - actually waters - at the sight, and your hips squirm, anxious to feel him between them.

He continues to undress until he wears nothing but a cocky, lustful grin. You give him a fully appreciative once over as he sits at the edge of the bed before meeting his eyes. He nods his head to beckon you to over to him, flourishing it with a seductive wink.

“Sam,” you giggle in an almost embarrassing girlish pitch, “Are you still winking at me?”

“You still winking back?” He asks, running his hands up your thighs as you place them on either side of his.

“Oh yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, reaching for the condom to open the package and roll it over him. You stroke him a few times, watching the muscles flex in his neck and abdomen as he restrains himself from pushing himself against you. “What about Dean?” you question.

With a quick glance to the other bed, you notice that Dean and Leah have shifted - he's kept her on all fours, but is lined up behind her, dragging his dick in and out of her. He catches your look and tosses a flirty wink your way before sucking his lip between his teeth and slamming hard against Leah's hips.

Sam grows impatient beneath you, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your focus back to him. “See? He likes winking at you, too. You okay?”

“Yes, very much yes,” you assure him, shifting so that you can line him up at your core, quivering again with anticipation and need. You slide up and down over him, slickening him with your come while his hands rest above your hip bones, fingertips clawing at you, anxious to feel you around him. You watch him with hooded eyes, mouth dropped open lazily - waiting, waiting for your moment to pounce. He rolls his head back as he draws in a breath, his chest tight, and that’s when you slide him inside of you.

You sink down, letting your knees push away from his sides as you go lower and lower, inch by inch until he’s filled you completely. He chokes on air for a moment and you feel the throb of his cock.

“Sa-aamm,” you keen as you grind against him, finally satisfying the urge to be filled. He hisses beneath you, then slightly pulls you up before jerking you back down against him, punching the air right from your lungs.

You catch on quickly, taking over the movement since you’ve got the leverage over him, bouncing up and down, taking him in deeply over and over again. Neither of you can focus, too caught up in the feel of him being driven into you - up, down, up, down. Your hands claw at each other, but your eyes are shut tight, heads thrown back as you both heave breaths and moans into the air.

The pace is fast and hard, and it feels amazing every time your bodies meet, sending tiny jolts of pleasure right through you. Another orgasm starts to tingle and you can feel it as it builds and builds, making you chase it until you can’t anymore. Your knees are sore from the way you’re perched on the bed, and your thigh muscles burn, but you’re so close that you’re ready to cry from the effort.

“Sam, Samsamsamsam, I’m so close.”

He sucks in air through his teeth, “What do you need, baby?”

Your face is contorted in frustration as you beg, “Fuck me, please Sam, just fuck me.”

He squeezes you tight as he mouths at your shoulder, his teeth bared and just resting against you while he shudders beneath you, nearly overcome with pleasure himself, muttering a quiet, strangled “fuck” into your skin. Then he shifts, and you slip a leg off of him and roll over onto the bed, barely lying down before he’s on you placing another demanding kiss on your lips. It’s the kind of sloppy, open-mouthed, I-have-lost-control-of-myself kiss and it feels perfect. With a suck to your bottom lip, Sam pulls up until he’s seated on his heels with his hips slotted between your widely spread legs. He drags a hand down to your thigh to pull it over his hip bone while the other teases his tip over your clit then your entrance, pausing just there.

“Beg me again,” he demands, and it’s the last thing that you can handle at this point, especially with Leah and Dean both wailing from their orgasms on the bed over.

“Fuck me, Sam, pleaase!”

He slams into you, digging his fingers into your flesh as he uses your thigh for leverage. The sound you make would normally be alarming, but given the way your body responds and the way your walls clench around him, Sam pulls back to do it again. Over and over, your body gives in and just takes what he gives you. Your back arches and your nerves tingle with the endorphins and pleasure racing through them as Sam keeps fucking into you, catching the spot within you with each drag of his cock and sending your body spiraling into another orgasm.

As your chest heaves and you feel the pulsing clench and release of your pussy around him, Sam leans into you, thrusting fast and shallow and chasing his own orgasm. Another few seconds of pushing and he’s there, his mouth caught open and eyes pinched shut while his hips stutter and jerk, his cock jumping inside of you while he pulses out his come. He finishes, breathless, and settles over you, both of you slick from sweat.

“You good?” he huffs into your hair.

You turn your head to look at the other bed, finding Dean and Leah in a similar state. Dean must catch your movement because then he turns toward you, flashing you a comforting grin and a little nod.

“Yeah,” you nod back before turning and placing a kiss to Sam’s shoulder, “Yeah, all good.”

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[percywinchester27]

Tic Tac Toe (Part-19)

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Warnings: None really

Series Summary: The reader shifts into a new city after being offered a dream job by a big firm. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect after an ugly break-up with a douche-bag Ex. But things turn out not as dreamy as she’d want them to be and the only thing that keeps her smiling is a totally coincidental game of Tic Tac Toe.

A/N: This chapter is a little small, but I’ll post the next one early as compensation ;) Feedback is really, really appreciated!

Beta: My awesome girls @thevioletthourr and @thevioletthourr. I love you guys and I wouldn’t know what to do without you <3

Catch up: Part 1, Tic Tac Toe Masterlist

You saw him get into a taxi and drive away. Truth was, it hurt like a bitch to be away from him, but not having him in your life wasn't even an option. You hadn't been lying, you really were lucky to have him in your life. He was the best damn thing to happen to you.

Reader’s POV:

"Welcome home, Y/N," you muttered, standing at the arrival terminal. This was it, you were finally back.

You barely knew the city, but it was so relieving to finally be here again. It wasn't that you didn't like your hometown or being around your mother. But staying there made you feel uneasy, impatient. There was no reason, but it still made you feel like something was going wrong. Being here, rid you of that feeling.

Maybe it was because you didn't have to live up to anyone else's expectations here, except yours. Or maybe it was because this place made you feel closest to Sam even if he wasn't with you.

"Great!" You groaned when you realized that you were going to have to hail a cab. You lived at least an hour and a half's drive from the airport, and paying for a cab was gonna rid of a considerable amount of cash.

Just when you were wondering if selling a kidney was a viable option to afford living in the damn city till your first paycheck, someone called your name.

You turned around to see Sam's driver aka "His everything" standing behind you.

"Philip!" You smiled. You didn't really know him, but it was good to see a familiar face. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you," he scoffed good-naturedly. "What else do you think?"

"Really?"

"Of course Miss Y/L/N."

"It's Y/N. We've been through this. You call me just Y/N."

"Alright, Just Y/N," he smiled. "How about we get you home."

"That would be great," you smiled.

It never surprised you just how caring Sam was. It was all those little things. He gave you your freedom, never questioned what you were up to, but was still an effortless gentleman, careful about every little detail.

"You aren't one of those ex-marine, I-don't-talk-at-all, cryptic bodyguards are you?" You asked getting into the car in the passenger seat instead of the backseat. You knew, for sure, Sam treated Philip with respect. You could do as much.

"Do you want me to be?" He grinned. He was definitely not that.

"Oh no," you waved, as he started the car. "I just wanted to ask you if I can call you Phil. The cryptic, I-don't-talk-much guy would have said no."

He laughed a full body laugh that reminded you a little of Dean, and just like that you were homesick.

"You can call me Phil. Sam does too."

"Okay," you nodded. "I'm still curious about the ex-marine part."

"Not an ex-marine, but I do know how to aim a gun, Y/N," he looked over at you, effortlessly maneuvering the jaguar in the downtown traffic. "I used to be into pro wrestling at some point though. I thought the muscles gave that away."

"Damn," you swore lightly, noticing the bulging biceps for the first time and he chuckled.

Most of the ride went in light chatter. You asked Phil about all his days in wrestling and clarifying your silly doubts about how authentic it was. He was patient enough to answer all of those, but he also laughed a lot, which made you believe that he might, at least, find you hilarious on some level.

"We're here," he said, coming to a halt in front of your apartment.

"Thanks for the ride Phil. I owe you one," you smiled gratefully.

"Anytime, Y/N. Here," he said handing you a card. "There's my number. If you need anything, anytime just give me a call okay?"

"I'll remember that."

Your room was a bigger mess than you remembered. Every piece of clothing you had owned up until the trip was strewn across the floor, bed, everything. You sighed to yourself, dragging the heavy suitcase with you. At least now you had a sufficient wardrobe here.

The rest of your evening was spent trying to rearrange the small studio apartment you owned. You tidied it up as much as you could, paying attention to every last detail. This was a good way to keep your mind occupied. It was way better than laying in the bed all day, which was exactly what you had been doing back in your mom's house. Which was ironic because lying in the bed now was bringing back that impatience.

Suddenly you sat up bolt in your bed. There was no reason for you to be alone.

The clock read 11:43. It was an indecent time to make a call, but something told you he wouldn't mind. So you reached for the card on the table besides your bed.

00:05

You walked out of the mirrored elevator into the huge foyer, remembering the first time you had been here. Sam had been right next to you. The nostalgia was so overwhelming that you could almost feel him standing right next to you, you could feel the warmth, almost smell the scent. It was maddening. Which was why you completely ignored the door on the opposite side of the foyer and turned to the one besides the elevator.

With baited breath, you rang the bell, counting till 23 before someone opened it.

A sandy haired man with a somewhat annoyed expression opened the door. "Excuse me, lady? Do I know you?"

"Umm no… uhhh yes!" You stuttered. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N?" He asked, starting to sound more annoyed now.

"I… Well I'm Sam's girlfriend… My name is Y/N. You're Steve right?"

"Oh… Y/N. Right!" He smiled, the annoyance clouding his features dissipating at once. "What's up. C'mon in."

"Oh no," you held up your hands. "I can't possibly intrude at this time. I'm just here to get Sam's number 1 girl, if you don't mind."

Steve laughed. "Of course not. Why don't you call her?"

You gave him what must be a genuinely excited and happy look. "Sophie?" You called. "Sophie, I'm here."

Within a couple of seconds, the huge German Shepherd came bounding out of the living room and right into your arms, drawing the first genuine laugh out of you in days.

"Hey girl!" You chuckled, nuzzling into her fur. "Did you miss me?"

She licked your face all the way from your chin to your hairline, covering it in drool.

"That means 'yes' in dog," Steve commented, making you laugh even more.

"How do you feel about crashing at my place tonight? It's not as monumental as Sam's but you get to have a girls' night," you asked her. Sophie was still licking your face.

You thanked Steve as he handed you Sophie's stuff, and he gave you a wide smile before closing the door. Apparently he was some sort of computer genius who made a lot of money just working from home. Sam had told you he was really lucky that Steve was around.

You called up Phil once more to thank him for making the call that let you into the fortress that was the skyscraper Sam lived in. Somehow it didn't surprise you that he was up at this ungodly hour.

Later, you pulled on Sam's T-shirt and climbed into bed right next to Sophie. Perhaps she was warming up to you more, or she recognized Sam's scent, but she turned to face you and nuzzled closer, making a contented sound in the back of her throat.

"You miss him too, don't you?" you asked, scratching her behind her ear. She rumbled deeply again.

"It's okay," you patted her gently. "We can both miss him together."

As long as Sam wasn't around, you were going to keep Sophie with you. If you were at work, you could ask Steve to look after her, but otherwise, she was your responsibility. You loved her, and it made you feel happier having her around.

"How about we make this a bachelorette pad till the mister returns, huh?" You asked her, and she bumped your nose with hers. It only made you love her more.

It was going to be a new day tomorrow. You were going to have a new team and were more than excited to see Donna again. By the end of the week, Sam would be back too, and things would go back to normal. Only, you had no idea what normal was supposed to be. This was all so new.... the job, the city, the relationship, being so irrevocably in love… everything. But be that as it may, in your heart you knew this was right. This was good.

You hugged an already asleep Sophie closer, catching hold of the silver pendent in the other hand, a soft smile playing on your lips. You were going to be just fine.

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