#they even gave me their vinyls when i moved out cuz they thought they were mine....... 💀💀💀 i only owned 1 vinyl that i never played

[scarecrowgolem]

Im gonna complain again cuz if I don't who will. Anyways, my ex and ex friends were heinous fake allies and absolutely awful lmao. Very clear to me now that I was just the "good jew" replacement for their ex jewish friend and as soon as I started breaking from how awful they were treating me they all started comparing me to their perception of that other person. Who probably wasn't even that bad to begin with tbh they all probably pushed them to their limits too with all the antisemitism, lesbophobia, and unhealthy dynamics I dunno. Shit was fucked.

[actualbird]

Your new fic has got me thinking about vibrators for each of the boys and how they'd react to it in them what have you done zak-

n/s//f///w text

hello, anons 1 and 2!! it seems that both of u were Awakened by my fic, "product testing is important for the d (the d stands for data) (it also stands for dick)" cuz these asks were sent back when i had just posted that and im oNLY GETTING TO RESPONDING MONTHS LATER, IM V FORGETFUL. but im glad u were Awakened cuz

i have Thoughts

would this member of the nxx team (assumed single, cuz in a relationship i hc things would change a bit) own sex toys? if yes, what kind?

wc: 1.5k lol

-

mc: yes, cuz she deserves to treat herself

mc went through the trials and tribulations of LAW SCHOOL and so she must have gone thru inhumane levels of stress. so shes got some toys. she needed them for good orgasms so she could stay SANE

i think in college, when she was still staying in a dorm with a roommate, she wouldve first gotten a small bullet vibe. the ones that are either a super inconspicuous design (i.e. designed to look like a tube of lipstick or etc.) or just really cute (i.e. bunny ear bullet vibes in a pastel color). this is cuz in the beginning she was RLLY EMBARRASSED ABOUT HAVING A VIBE and thus wanted it to be teeny tiny and easy to hide from her roommates

(sidenote about lipstick vibe: it would be HILARIOUS if mc has a lipstick vibe and accidentally mistakes the vibe for the lipstick tranquilizer gun luke gave her. one day, luke asks her to take the tranq gun out and fire a shot at the wall so he can see if theres anything he needs to do maintenance on on the gadget so she pulls out the lipstick object in her bag, presses the button and

it just starts buzzing

luke, beginning to blush: uhhhh

mc, shoving the vibe back in her bag: WHAT!!! NOTHING!!!!!!! STOP LOOKING AT ME, IM GOING FOR A WALK, NEVER SPEAK OF THIS!!!!)

later, when shes got her own place, she indulges and gets a better and bigger vibe. the trusty bullet can only get her so far, and shes in a new stage of her life: the employment under late stage capitalism

she needs better orgasms to stay sane thru that

for reactions to sex toys: in the beginning, she probably was having trouble figuring out how to use em to achieve the Good Orgasms, but after some practice and exploration, she gets the hang of it. usually goes for a destressing sex toy masturbation experience as opposed to aiming for something earth shattering. orgasms as a metaphorical glass of warm milk before bed, kinda. but it's a metaphorical glass of cummies

-

artem wing: no, cuz he's just not interested in that kinda stuff right now

while artem also went thru law school, i posit this guy does not own a single sex toy. nothing. nada. none.

i hc artem as demi and bi and like, he KNOWS OF sex toys but they honestly just didnt interest him cuz sexual pleasure didnt interest him that much. artem is well aware that being demisexual is irt the lack of sexual attraction towards another person lest theres a solid emotional connection but hes not gung ho about exploring sexual pleasure too much on his own as well cuz it's like...like how he thinks movies are more fun to watch with someone else even when enjoying the experience by yourself is completely possible.

so as long as hes single, hes just kinda "meh" at the idea of sex toys as a whole, will jack off the old fashioned way if ever the horny hits

the only time artem is gonna be in the premises of a sex toy is once he's fallen in love and in a relationship and if his lover brings it up. but thats past the scope of this hc post, so we move on

-

vyn richter: yes, cuz indulgence makes life beautiful also his high standards make for a Very discerning sex toy consumer

vyn has such upscale tastes in terms of interests: wines, vintage vinyls, tea that i am assuming is just the BEST and also expensive, and on and on it goes. vyn enjoys INDULGENCE and GOOD FOR HIM because enjoying what the world can offer is truly something that makes life worth living

and the world offers sex toys too and hes like "well, do not mind if i do"

however, vyn's standards are HIGH. in SSR Food For Thought, he was an absolutely merciless and scathing wine taster. i like to think this goes for a lot of the stuff hes into, if hes gonna indulge, he wants the Good Stuff, the BEST STUFF he can get his hands on

he only purchases sex toys that have unilateral good and detailed reviews and if hes unsatisfied, hes GONNA WRITE AN (ANONYMOUS) REVIEW DRAGGING IT on the toy's site. 0/10, would not use for orgasm again 💅

aligned with the indulgence thing, vyn is going after orgasms that are a bit more drawn out. not exaaactly edging or orgasm denial but close to it cuz prolonging the experience makes for 1) more time enjoying himself, 2) delayed gratification orgasms are scrumptious.

with that in mind, i figure vyn has maybe owns one or two Dedicated Favorite toys. cuz if it doesnt pass his standards of good quality and a nice drawn out experience, hes just not keeping it, bye bye subpar dildo!

-

marius von hagen: yes, cuz hes a filthy whore with the added buff of being FILTHY RICH

marius is a lot like vyn in the sense that hes got high standards (when ur rich and have the capability to splurge on stuff, that Stuff has gotta be Good) and is also game for indulgence. but the difference with marius is that hes way more shameless about it, hes inching past indulgence and into vague and unapologetic sexy hedonism

i Cannot fault him for this, his life is STRESSFUL so honestly you go, marius. get them cummies.

also, related to the fic that sparked both these questions: i do hc that pax has a sex toy brand that makes Super great products and marius is all about supporting pax ventures!!!! even the ones thatll go in his butt.

i think that marius would be the type to go for As Many Orgasms As He Can Possibly Have. marathon masturbation for this dude, when the mood hits.

and to do that, he'd need diff kinds of toys cuz if he keeps using a fleshlight the entire time, his dick will feel like it's chafing even with all the high end lube easing the way. so hes got a Bunch of stuff. not an extensive collection or anything, but at least one of Thing That Provides Specific Stimulation (fleshlight, dildo, vibe, maybe some kinkier stuff he would much rather be using along with a partner but until then he'll live using the nip clamps on himself)

-

luke pearce: no, cuz he 1) hates himself too much and 2) mc's parents may or may not have accidentally instilled a biiiiiit too much well meaning scare tactics on him as a teenager

the "he hates himself" bit is pretty self explanatory: luke pearce has the unfortunate tendency of denying himself good things because he thinks hes a No Good, Very Bad person. ive used this in 2943842 ways for angst but for comedy, itll lead to this. he does not have a sex toy cuz his self loathing is just THAT BAD. like HUH? HIM? MAKE HIMSELF FEEL GOOD???? that actually makes him feel BAD!!

i can forsee that many, many times luke has tried to jerk off just for stress relief but then his self loathing mental block was so strong it blocked the mental aspect of reaching an orgasm. this poor dude. love urself. accept urself

the SECOND bit is a hilarious concept i bounced around with beck once where like...what if mc's parents had a double standard, with how they raised luke compared to mc

cuz listen, mc's parents love both mc and luke very much!!! but also, yknow, parents have the tendency to be wary of Boys when theyve got an only child Girl

and This Boy LIVES WITH THEM

so fast forward to when mc and luke are going thru teen puberty and they both have to get The Talk and variations of thereof

and towards a teenage!mc theyre like "of course making yourself feel good is okay, and sex is okay too! but for now, focus on your studies, theres plenty of time for relationships in the future, but if you do want to pursue something on your own, make sure you do it safely because we love you <3"

and then towards a teenage!luke theyre like "hey. we're watching you we love you but we're watching."

this + luke's bedrock of self loathing = mc's parents, in their mission to keep their wonderful daughter safe, may have accidentally had a hand in making luke pearce among the most sexually repressed individuals on the planet

so uh. no. i dont think luke has sex toys. because i dont even think he reaches orgasm 60% of the time he decides to jerk it JHVAKJHSFKAJSHFAK

-

and these r my takes!!! i realize that for an hc post talking about sex toys, this post is like 0% sexy JKBKJKJKJFASKFJASF

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″

"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire Rise up even higher So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"

Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"

Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.

The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.

The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.

It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.

Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.

The boy was bad.

Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?

Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.

"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.

"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.

Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.

"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"

"Erik? No, I don't believe so."

"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."

Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.

"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.

"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."

"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."

Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.

"I liked how you closed out your set."

"People liked it, yeah?"

"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."

Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.

"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."

Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.

Erik ran up to her breathless.

"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"

Disa patted his arm.

"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"

She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.

"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.

Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.

"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.

"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"

Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.

Disa held out a trembling hand to him.

"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.

Disa burst into tears.

"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.

Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.

She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.

"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.

"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."

A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.

"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."

Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.

"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.

"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."

Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.

"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"

The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.

"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.

Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.

Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.

Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.

Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.

"Damn, what was that for?" he said.

"Being here," she said.

He wiped his lips and smiled.

"Erik…"

Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.

###

Her night was a dreamy success.

Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand. "Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.

He took the drink from her and sipped it down.

"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"

She snatched it away from his lips.

"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.

"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"

"Yep."

"Happy Birthday, Erik!"

She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.

"Enjoy," she said.

"What room are we in?" Jace asked.

Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.

"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.

Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.

"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.

"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."

"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."

"Good to know."

"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."

"Glad to make your dream come true."

His eyes penetrated hers.

"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.

"You're drunk," he teased.

"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.

Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.

Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.

"Is Erik up?" she asked.

Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.

"You were so good," he yelped.

"Thank you… um… Erik?"

"He's not here."

"Not here? Did he go out?"

"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.

"Thanks," she said.

Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.

"Hey," she said.

"Um… Hi. 'sup?"

"Birthday drink. A proper one."

She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.

"I can't come in?"

"I have someone here," he said.

Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.

"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.

Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.

"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"

She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.

"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"

"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."

She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.

"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."

"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."

"How many?"

"Fifteen—"

"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."

"The cost alone will be crazy—"

"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"

Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.

"I love your Confit de Canard,"

"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."

"It's gonna be hella expensive."

"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."

His eyes lit up.

"I'll let my people know."

"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."

Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.

"Thank you," he said.

"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."

She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.

###

Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.

"What did she want?"

"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.

He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.

"Why is your dick like that already?"

Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.

"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.

Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.

"You're attracted to her."

"Disa? That's my homegirl—"

"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."

Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.

"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"

"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."

He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.

"Wanna play rough?" he said.

"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"

"What?"

"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"

"No. She fine as fuck though."

"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"

There was disgust on her face.

Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.

"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"

"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."

"That ass was amazing."

"I can't believe you're serious!"

"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."

"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."

"Like what?"

"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"

"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."

Chloe stared down at her hands.

"I'm glad to hear that, actually."

"Yeah? Why?"

Her eyes welled up.

"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."

"Guys like me?"

"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."

Her eyes met his.

"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."

"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."

She slapped his hand and smiled.

"But you do like Disa. Right?"

"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"

"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."

He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.

Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.

###

The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.

He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.

"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."

Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.

Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.

He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.

"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.

She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.

"These are my father's journals," he whispered.

Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.

"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice

Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.

His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.

His family birthright.

Now his.

Chapter 10 HERE

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes 

@soufcakmistress  

@cherrystainedlipsbaby

@tclaybon  

@thadelightfulone

@allhailqueennel

@bartierbakarimobisson

@cpwtwot

@shookmcgookqueen

@yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78

@the-illlest

@terrablaze514  

@l-auteuse

@amirra88

@jimizwidow

@janelledarling

@chaneajoyyy  

@sweetestdream92  

@purple-apricots

@blackpinup22  

@hennessystevens-udaku

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade

@bugngiz

@stariamrry  

@honeytoffee

@meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees

@eye-raq  

@writerbee-ffs  

@chocolatedream30  

@childishgambinaa  

@mygirlrenee

@thewaysheis—awkward

@tchallasbabymama

@lahuttor

@goodieyaya

@post-woke

@soufcakmistress

@yomiloo

@goddessofthundathighs

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@retroxvailles

@cydneyrenee4

@nizzle-mo

@cecereads209

@childishgambinaax

[nepenthendline]

ooo i love ur new header chloe🥺💖 i see ur requests are open hehe~ mmm can i pls request some tsukki content? head cannon or whatever is cool :-) maybe tsukki and reader are bffs and reader is the only one that can bring out his soft side and he realizes it’s cuz he actually likes her? you can really take this anywhere you’d like— sorry if it’s too vague (pls lmk if it is) i hope you’re doing well with school and everything, let’s catch up soon :-) many uwus 💗

thank you ren! you’re so sweet! and things for uni are starting to look up, i’m actually getting updates now about what the hell is going on, I hope you’re doing ok! this is a wreck but I hope this is alright for you 🥰🥰🥰

Tsukishima being soft with his crush

you and Tsukishima had been friends since middle school, so you were already pretty close by the time you started high school, alongside Yamaguchi of course

Tsukishima was a boy with many sides, most of which were sealed off to intruders, the only ones who held the key were you, Yamaguchi, and occasionally his mum

that didn’t stop you from being the receiver of his teasing sometimes though, but it was never malicious or hurtful, and he always seemed to know when to stop

you, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had all planned to go to a cafe together during the weekend, however Yamaguchi had come down with a cold, leaving him stuck at home

since you were really in the mood for a sweet treat and a tea, you asked if Tsukishima wanted to go out as the two of you instead

“Hmm, treat me to a strawberry shortcake and we’ll make it a deal”

the two of you arrived and found a table, one near the back where it was quieter

Tsukishima said he would go order for the two of you and asked what you wanted

you told him and gave him enough money to cover both of your treats as to the deal you made

when he came back, he passed you your snacks, plus all the money you gave him

“I thought I was paying for us?” 

“Huh? it’s fine, you can pay next time,” his tone made it seem as it was just a mistake that he paid, but you knew a guy like Tsukishima did everything with a purpose

the two of you ate and chatted for a little while before making your way outside

“I’m going to head to the vinyl shop that down the road if you want to join?” he asked, already walking off

of course you agreed and followed him

you loved music, but you didn’t know many of the artists that were on the vinyls in this store, so you patiently stood by Tsukishima as he looked around

“hey, Y/N, come look at this,” he grabbed your attention over to a vinyl player that was hooked up with headphones for people to test the discs

he had a vinyl in his hand that he placed on the deck, before handing you a pair of headphones

“I think you’ll like this one. It’s similar to the songs I sent you the other day,”

the song was sweet; it was a romantic, slow love song that left you entranced

Tsukishima stared at you while you two listened, watching for your reaction

“wow, that was amazing, the lyrics were so deep and moving!” 

he smiled and nodded, telling you all about the artist and their other albums

you spent a while in there as he told you about various albums and played you more songs, it was rare you got to see him so unfiltered like this, simply enjoying his interests

it felt so easy to share his passions with you, usually he kept them to himself from fear of being judged, but you always listened to what he had to say with excitement

just as you were about to leave, you decided you wanted to buy him a gift - after all he had paid for you food for you and spent the day with you

telling him to wait outside, you bought the vinyl he first showed you with the sweet song

you met him outside and handed him the bag

his eyebrow was raised as he stared at it

“it’s for you silly, I got you a gift”

“now I owe you something” he huffed, but took the bag anyway

he pulled out the vinyl and stared at it for a few seconds, his mouth slightly hung open

“t-thank you” he stuttered in a murmur

the two of you made your way back home, before coming across a familiar park

“Kei! That’s the park we used to play in as kids! I haven’t walked this way in a long time so I’ve never really noticed it”

you dragged him over to sit on the swings with you, he complained the whole  way about you being ‘childish’ and he ‘dreads to think what germs are on them’

it was coming closer to evening now as you two slowly rocked yourselves on the swings, enjoying the silence

“thank you for today Kei, I enjoyed it,” you said turning to him

“yeah, me too. We should do this more often,”

“of course! When Yamaguchi get’s better we can-” he cut you off

“I mean’t just the two of us,” he turned you with a smile

[ultraklll]

Tony Miller as a Gun For Hire! Tagged by the lovely @envyfelled ! Ty! This was super fun! Also, I'm on mobile, so sorry for the garbo formatting! (Fun fact, tonys voice claim is laura bailey as fiona/fem!boss)

Paired With Fangs For Hire:

Boomer - "Heya buddy!" followed by excessive scratching behind the ears | "Fuckin' love this dog, can sniff out a peggie like shark sniffing out blood. Good trait to have! Awfully convenient too…" | [patpatapatptpataptap] | "Atta fuckin' boy Boomer!" When she sees him get a kill | "Who's a good boy! Who wants to kill some cultists!" | "Wanna play fetch? Rip out their necks?"

Peaches - "Good girl…" | stealth gang stealth gang | peaches: mows down peggies/tony: a baby!" | "I jus' think it's funny that when we went to the Henbane, we picked up a cougar, Addie, an actual cougar, Peaches, and joined a crew called the Cougars… Just'a thought," 

Cheeseburger - "This reminds me'a Vegas pride, saw plenty'a bears there too" | "Kinda ironic to find you in Jacob's region, all things considered," [snickers to herself] | [PATPATPATPATPATPAT] | "Get outta my pockets! These snacks are mine, not yours!" | "You remind me of those like, beware of dog signs, but the dog is always a sweetheart who'd rather play with a home invader rather than attack them," 

Paired With Other Guns For Hire:

Jess - stealth gang stealth gang stealth gang | Jess has a MASSIVE crush on Tony. Everyone can tell. Tony knows | jess: guns are fucking lame and the sniper rifle is the cowards weapon/ tony: uses a sniper rifle/ jess: actually sniper rifles are cool as fuck | "Good shot Jess!" "S-shit, um, thanks, Tony," 

Grace - sniper gang sniper gang!! | [steals a headshot Grace was lining up] "Cmon Gracie, thought you were meant to be Olympic level!" | highly competitive, do a shot whenever they get a perfect headshot to die instantly | smug top solidarity | also heavily depressed solidarity 

Adelaide - [acts like she's not sleeping with her nephew even tho Addie knows she definitely knows] | Tony is either constantly laughing or constantly face palming over the shit addie says | have gotten into an argument once bc addie said john was a top 

Nick - "What's up eye in the sky?" | [flirts over radio] [flirts over radio] [flirts over radio] [fli | Nick: speaks/Tony: god I just love the way you fucking talk | often talk about kim together | "Can we have a barbecue at your place once these fuckers are dealt with?" | [pretends not to be bitter the Deputy got to help deliver Carmina and not her]

Sharky - "Heya baby!" | [constant back and forth flirting. It's embarrassing] | any second they're both not talking is a second they're making out | Can and Will go john wick on some peggy ass if he gets hurt badly | "Do you wanna have a sleepover?" "Lemme ask my momma," | she calls him Charlie :> | loves him so so much they're just constantly talking about anything and everything | literally like A Comedic Duo. Have together for certified funnies

Hurk jr. - "Junior! This'll be just like Kyrat!" | competitions about who can shotgun a beer faster every 4 seconds | WILL tell you stories about their time in Kyrat together | Tony has punched Drubman sr in the nose before and she'll do it again | "Hey Tony? You still in contact with Ajay?" "He sends me a royal postcard every now n' then. Apparently it's boring being king, and his only solace is that his new bodyguard is cute," 

In Combat: 

Seeing an enemy - "Fucker in my sights," | "I got a bullet with your name on it… actually I don't, who the fuck has time to carve names in bullets, but you get the idea- im just gonna shoot you now" | "You're dead on arrival, shithead," 

Sneaking - "You'd think me sneaking is counter productive because I'm 6'4 and have a very loud gun, but you're the boss Dep," | "Shhhh… we're huntin' shitheads… Heard it in a game," | [shoots alarm boxes] "You ain't allowed to call your friends, you're all grounded," | *peggy triggers alarm* "Fuckin snitch!" 

Killing an enemy - "SKULLCRACKER!" | "I just don't miss!" | just fucking headshot after headshot after headshot | [sucks in breath through teeth] "God damn I'm good," | when shes not using her Wifle (wife rifle, a 45/70) she's being FUCKING EFFICIENT with her ak-ms or just blasting ribcages open with her shotgun

Reviving - "Up you get, baby," | "You ain't dying on me that easy, Dep" | "Not today Satan!" | "You gonna let some unwashed asshole kill you?" 

Hurt - "Motherfucker!" | "That's another scar I'll tattoo over," | "Thank god people find scars sexy," | "God fuck that's smarts!" 

Downed - "Dep! Give me a hand?" | "Clean up on Aisle 4 needed!" | "Don't worry about me, just bleeding out over here, no rush," 

Revived - "Drinks on me when this is over Dep," | "Thanks babe!" | "I'll kiss you when we get outta this mess," | "I owe ya!"

Driving: 

Entering a vehicle - "Lemme take over I'm a way better driver than you," | "Floor it!" | "Hang on I've got a mixtape, just hope I havent fuckin' crushed it," | [takes the opportunity to roll cigs] | *peggies roll up* "Keep her steady!" [leans out the window and headshots the peggie on their ass, causing them to crash the car, like that isnt the coolest shit you've ever seen] "Aight cool,"

Reckless Driving - "Watch the fuckin' road asshole!" | [desperately tryna grip the wheel so she can take over driving] | "STOP THE CAR! I'LL JUST FUCKING WALK!" | "Are you tryna kill us?! Fuckin' swap seats now!" | tony is the designated driver bc one she's fucking good at it and two shes also a really bad backseat driver. Just let her drive 

Changing Radio Stations - "Now don't tell Charlie I said this but some of the peggies music is actually good,"| "John's a prick but his music taste is fuckin' good," | [punches radio in when Only You comes on] "...Sorry… Force'a habit…" | "Bold and brave my ass, John looks like he needs help getting spiders out of rooms and wears fuzzy pink bathrobes," 

Idle: 

"Man, John's a freak, and yeah I mean that in the sexy way. Someone who demands so much outward control whilst being a shithead little brat likes to get trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey and stuffed like one too. Don't give me that look Dep, I'm right and we both know it," 

"That dude Jacob ate was called Miller?? God, that could've been me if I was much older and way uglier!" 

"Faith just makes me fuckin sad man. She's been manipulated and groomed into this life by fuckin Joseph- she's so goddamn young too. I'm not gonna tell you what to do Dep, but that's just my two cents,"

"Joseph's the worst kind of man- a manipulator. He tells you what you wanna hear, targets the misfortunate who have nothing left to lose, builds a fucking army out of em. The other heralds I'm ok with arresting, but Joseph's got to go,"

[Lights cig with either her fancy lighter or by striking a match on the bottom of her shoe] "Don't start smoking, Dep,  bad for your health," 

Location Specific: 

Testy Festy Aftermath - [pinches bridge of nose] "Not again…" | "Anyone got a water and like, 3 aspirin?" | "Ain't the first time I've woke up passed out in a field, won't be the last," | "Did we at least get a photo from the night? I've won the competitions here for the last 3 years in a row now, I'm not fuckin missing one cuz of these peggies," 

Falls End - "Fuckin shame to see Falls End like this, but Mary May and Jerome will take good care of her now weve got it back, they always do," | "Think we'll get free drinks for life at the Spread Eagle when this is all over? Actually, we probably won't even get free drinks for week, so for life is wishful thinking," | she enjoys playing with the singing fish on the front of the speed eagle and keeps tryna convince Mary May to let her take it for herself bc tony goddamn miller has the biggest singing fish collection in the entire county 

Seed Ranch - *loud whistle* "this place is swanky as fuuuuck… Not that big a fan of all the dead animals though…" | "IS THAT WEED ON THE TABLE? Johnny boy you fuckin' hypocrite!" | "Oh he's definitely got a secret room behind one of these bookshelves, like a home torture room? Oh my God, what if he has more than one...?" [starts frantically pulling books off shelves] | regarding his shelves with peggie memorabilia [takes baseball bat to it] | [pretends she's never been here as she frantically stuffs any of her own belongings she might've forgotten here into her bag]

Entering the Henbane - "Don't trust a goddamn thing you see here. You think you see something you're not supposed to, hit it," | [swinging at bliss induced angel/animal/faith visions] | "Can we try savin' Faith? Don't feel right killin' her, she's so young…" | "Can we go to Sharky's place? I left some stuff there that could be worth picking up,"

Hope County Jail - "Sheriff Whitehorse has always been a good man to me, Dep. Would appreciate it if he lived through this," | "I always feel like a giant whenever I come here, everyones like 5'3. Virgil, Tracey, Charles, all shortasses," | "I think it's cute they gave you a little pin! You're part of their Pride now! Or whatever the cougar equivalent is to a lions pride… do Cougars even travel in packs? Aside from when Addie used take the girls out for drinks,"

Entering the Whitetails - "Always feels like something's watchin' you in these woods. Keep your eyes peeled," | "Always felt like there's something in these woods that there ain't supposed to be…" | [Shifting from foot to foot] "Can we get a move on? Aint'a big fan of standing around waitin' to get shot by some fuckin' sniper with a bow," | [watching Jacob's video punishing Pratt] "I'll fuckin' get you outta here, Stace… you just gotta hold out a second longer," | [about all the dead bodies and 'you are meat' graffiti] "Love what Jacob's done with the place," 

The Wolfs Den - "Eli Palmer is a good fuckin man. Kind, smart, careful and ruthless against peggies. We've made a good friend here, Dep," | "Heya Wheaty! Got a few more vinyls for your collection! They're all my own though, so be careful with em," | "I don't think Tammy likes you that much Dep. I don't think she likes much of anything anymore, other than attaching jumper cables to Peggy's nipples… Oh god, my piercings hurt thinking about it," 

Joseph's Island - [hand firmly on rifle grip] | "Creepy, evil motherfucker, had him pegged right from the start. Well, not pegged. I'm not pegging Joseph. I'd rather stick my dick in a ceiling fan then go anywhere near him- I'm just gonna stop talking," | "You know what? No one else has asked it so I'm gonna- where the fuck does Joseph sleep.  In the church? In one of these houses? In the dirt somewhere? What if he hangs upside down from trees like a bat?" 

[lightdusk96]

Holiday Date

To celebrate winter break, I decided to write something after a hundred years of inactivity. So, this is my first attempt at writing BBrae! Let’s give it a go, shall we?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Titans, , Beast Boy, or Raven. The characters depicted are property of DC, DC Entertainment and Warner Brothers.

 Holiday Date

The holiday of Christmas is considered as a revered and sacred one by most people. A holiday of love and joy, of appreciating family and friends and spending time with them. And Jump City was no exception. Bright Christmas-themed decorations filled the streets and buildings of Jump, from multi-colored lights on the porches of apartments in the shapes of stars to classic Christmas music being heard from every corner, either by stores and shops or people humming them as they walk by. The festive atmosphere created by the gentle snowfall, bright lights and cheerful music could bring a smile on anyone’s face.

Yes, even on the Teen Titan empath known as Raven.

While it was not a face-breaking grin, it was an honest-to-goodness smile. And she had no qualms about hiding it as she and the emerald shapeshifter known as Beast Boy walked around the chilly streets of Jump with their gloved hands intertwined, her dressed in a winter version of her costume, fur-trimming, pants and blue gloves, him dressed in a black and purple sweater, black jeans and grey gloves. Despite being the most restrained of the team, Raven could not help but smile on Christmas, feeling love and compassion from everywhere she turns. Such days could make anyone smile. Especially someone who feels the emotions of those around her. She was not entirely subservient to that trait, but it was there in the form of an influence.

She couldn’t tell if it was the city’s residents or the sheer amount of ecstasy a certain green-skinned changeling gave off that made her feel this way. If anyone could be so happy as to eclipse an entire city’s worth of people, it’d be Garfield Logan. He has been begging her to go outside all day, and after plenty of coaxing through transforming into cute animals, she at last agreed to go with him.

“YES! Finally found it! Come on, Rae!” Raven took note of his exuberant attitude as she followed him to a small café called “Cup O’Joe”. Raven raised an eyebrow at this place, with its windowed walls and small tables outside the main building built out of brick, with fancy red ribbons and tiny Christmas trees decorating the place.

“So, this is it?”

“Yep! Best hot cocoa in Jump! You’ll love it!”

Raven only nodded in understanding as her response. While uncertain, she trusted Beast Boy. Much like how he trusted her through thick and thin all these years, after endless conflict of both the internal and external variety. Yet that conflict was nothing to their mutual love and understanding of one another. The fact that she’s out here, enjoying herself with him proved as much.

They walked inside the café, a bell ringing as they opened the door. Steadily making their way inside the main building, they gazed upon an ornately decorated, large room, with pictures of music stars filling the walls, musical instruments and vinyl records decorating pillars among the pictures and, of course, traditional Christmas ornaments. The sound of the song “Jingle Bell Rock” reverberating through the room only drove in the fact that this was a rock music themed café. There were a few people there, some enjoying their drinks with snacks and some chatting to each other. There were two floors in the building with tables and lounging chairs.

Beast Boy turned to look at her. “So, what’d ya think?”

“It’s quite nice, Gar. I knew you were a rock fan, but I never thought you’d go to a rock café. I’m surprised this even exists.”

“I know, me too! I only discovered it on November during one of my patrols! I kept it secret until now and I couldn’t wait to take you here for the holidays! It’s nice and quiet, with few people around”

Raven lightly blushed at how considerate he was. Leave it to him to plan something 2 months in advance to make someone happy.

They moved towards the register, where a dark-haired man dressed in a black shirt with a guitar player smashing a guitar on the front of it wearing a Santa hat lay in wait.

Beast Boy greeted him in his endearingly friendly manner, letting out a toothy grin and a wave of his hand. “Yo, Joe! How’s it going, dude?

The man looked up to look at Beast Boy with a warm smile. “Why if it isn’t Beast Boy! Glad to see ya, kid! I see you brought some company with you!”

With a nod of his head, Garfield gestured towards Raven. “This is Raven, I believe you know of her!”

Joe’s smile turned into a smirk. “Yeah, cuz you just can’t stop telling me about her!”

Beast Boy and Raven chuckled at that remark. It felt refreshing to be treated like people instead of celebrities. While the admiration is appreciated, it can be too much for them to handle at times.

“So, what can I get you two? Might I suggest a cup of hot cocoa, with whipped cream and marshmallows?”

“You certainly may! We’ll take our table at the top floor and wait for it there. Come on, Rae!”

With that, he led her to the top floor and picked a table for them right by a large window overlooking the streets of Jump. Holding hands all the way. Even when they sat down and took off their gloves, they still held hands across the table.

Still being a little nervous, Raven spoke up to break the silence between them. “Thanks for taking me out here, Gar. It’s a really nice place.”

Gar met her small smile with a grin of his own. “Thanks for taking me up on that offer. I was worried I was moving a bit too fast for you to get used to, y’know? I mean, I know you’re still trying to sort some things out, but I figured that you don’t need to do it alone. Because you are not alone.”

Raven blinked in surprise. He knew exactly how she felt and he didn’t even need empathetic powers to do so. Then again, he was just that good at reading her, even when she was completely closed to herself. He always tried to make her happy, bring out the best in her. Especially during a time when she felt lost about what path her life might take her. After all, she thought her life was always set to play out one certain way since birth. But that did not come to pass. And while “Now what?” was not the most elegant way of describing her turmoil, it was the most accurate.

Raven thought to herself. ”It feels surreal, how much I have changed since last Christmas. Back then I would have never even considered going outside of the tower for Christmas. Just staying in my room with my book and my friends would have been enough. Then again, back then Gar was still trying to break through the walls I raised around myself to keep Trigon at bay. Even when he was gone, the walls remained. They were cracked and full of holes, but they remained. And he made it his mission to tear them down, just so I could be happy.”

As she mulled these thought in her head, her gaze met his in a determined, yet loving manner. “I know Gar. I got my family the Titans… and I got you. Somehow.”

“Oh, don’t bring yourself down, I won’t have that! You’ve been through a lot, and you deserve the best!”

Raven got a little choked up as his words touched her heart. “You are the best thing to happen to me, Garfield Logan. Just being around you makes me happier than I could have ever imagined.”

After she said that, her hands cupped Beast Boy’s shocked face and pulled him in for a powerful, toe-curling kiss. It did not take long for Beast Boy to return the favor, his hands playing with her blue hair. The area around them became a blur, the melody of “Please Come Home For Christmas” disappearing into the ether that was their passion. They could only feel each other, for that was all they needed.

Which resulted in them getting easily startled as Joe came with their beverages and made his presence known with a loud fake cough. Both Titans broke up the kiss, with flushed faces and heavy breaths.

Joe flipped a fringe of his hair around, trying to contain his lopsided smirk from turning to an outright face breaking grin. “Well, even though you treated yourselves to something much sweeter than chocolate, how about you have some anyway?”

“Yeah, uh, thanks Joe.” Gar answered lamely. Joe only shook his head, left the cocoas on the table and left.

Raven recovered from her embarrassment and picked up her mug, holding it up as Beast Boy took his, her smile lighting up the room. “Merry Christmas, Gar.”

He smiled back, his own mug gently hitting hers. “Merry Christmas, Rae.”

Dedicated to Ava, for inspiring me to learn more, to love and ultimately write about this couple. Hope you like your gift! Have a Happy Birthday!

[fandomoniumflurry]

Special

Sam Winchester x Reader

for @a-winchester-fairytale SPN Sitcom 2 Story challenge! My prompt was the quote: “You’re special.” “What like, ‘stop eating the paste’ special?”

almost 4k words. Swearing, angst, fluff, intimacy and kissing

“Yeah, well fuck you, Sam! That’s what I say.” You scream as you stomp your way up the stairs to the bunker’s front door.

Sam stopped at the bottom of the stairway and glared up at you. His forehead wrinkled as his eyes flared with anger, his hands flailing with his gestures. “Fine. Just walk away then. You know I’m right and you just won’t own up to it!”

You tossed a menacing scowl over your shoulder at the large man before you growled and shoved the door open. There were no words that would properly express your anger so the slamming of the big metal door would have to be enough. The moment you stepped out into the snow, you shivered, having forgot your jacket in your room. But you weren’t about to go back in to get it. Instead you hugged your arms around yourself and took off walking.

Dean sat with wide eyes at the table in the war room, his hand around a beer while a book sat in his lap. He blinked a few times at his brother, suddenly feeling awkward. “Do I want to know what that was?”

Sam threw his hands up in exasperation, casting one last longing gaze at the door as if you would walk back in at any moment. When he turned to his brother, anger still blazed in his eyes but his features had fallen into a frown. “Fuck off, Dean.” He snapped before walking past him with intent to go to his room.

The eldest Winchester’s eyes went wide at his brother’s outburst. Before his little brother could escape, he reached a hand out to grab his forearm and hold him back. “Yo, dude. Don’t take shit out on me just cuz you and your little girlfriend had a fight.”

Another growl ripped through Sam’s teeth as he pulled his arm away. “She’s not my girlfriend, Dean. And why don’t you mind your own business.” Dean’s hands raised in surrender before he leaned back in his chair. Sam nodded his head curtly when his brother finally conceded and he was able to walk away.

The older man watched as he stalked off, disappearing down the hall. A soft sigh passed his lips before he slapped the book on his lap closed and tossed it on the table. “I’ll mind my own business. You are my fucking business, Sammy.” He muttered to himself as he stood, grabbing his jacket and heading up the stairs. If Sam wasn’t going to go after you, Dean would.

As soon as he stepped out into the cold Kansas air, Dean tucked his jacket closer against himself. He could see where your footsteps had fallen in the snow and it didn’t take long before his eyes fell on you. The short walk without a jacket had frozen you to the bone. His brow knit with a frown when he saw you huddled up in the backseat of your little car. It was clear that you were crying, your shoulders quivering from more than just the cold. Trudging through the snow, he made his way to you.

You jolted with a squeal when the door opened unexpectedly and a large man slid in next to you. His face wrinkled when his legs were squished against the driver’s seat. He blindly grappled for the lever at the front of the chair to push it forward to give himself more room. Letting out a breath his knees were still uncomfortable but it was better than being a pretzel. You couldn’t help but giggle at him even though you were still in tears.

When he was situated, an arm moved around your shoulders and pulled you against his side before the other wrapped around you as well. He hugged you tight and the moment your face was pressed against his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him, fingers clenching his shirt as you began to cry harder. He rocked lightly back and forth as his hand combed through your head and rubbed soothingly up and down your arm with quiet ‘sshh’s.

You never understood why Dean was always the more comforting of the brothers. He always came off the rougher colder of the two Winchesters. And yet with you, it was like he always had to be there. He would always take care of you, protect you, be there when you needed him. And you loved him for it. He was like your big brother and you didn’t know what you would do without him.

But the one you really wished had come to your side was probably sulking in his bedroom or had his nose stuck in a book. Sam was the empathetic one, at least with victims and witnesses. He was kind and even though he was a large man with quite a temper, he was gentle and sympathetic who a heart full of love. And as much as you adored him, you felt that he never really liked you. And that hurt more than the yelling. Knowing that the man you were in love with couldn’t stand you.

You didn’t even know what you had done wrong. Things had always been tense between you and the youngest Winchester since the day you met. Bonding with Dean was quick and painless where as with Sam it was always rough and troubled. When he wasn’t yelling at you or scolding you, he was avoiding you. It made you wish you could go back and fix whatever it was that you did to piss him off. Dean always said you haven’t done anything but if that were true, why didn’t Sam at least tolerate you?

The more you thought about it, the harder you clung to Dean. Your tears soaked through his flannel shirt and his eyes closed as he heaved a heavy sigh. He wished he could fix the relationship between you and his brother but you had a lot more in common with Sam than he would have liked. Trying to get two hot headed and stubborn people to admit their feelings to each other was like pulling teeth. He knew his brother better than anyone and in the past couple years he had gotten to know you better than you knew yourself. So it was obvious to him, that the two of you were made for each other. But you were both fighting it. Sam more so than you. But there was nothing he could do about it but wait it out.

Here lately things between you and Sam had only gotten worse. It took all your self control not to you just kick him in the nuts or burst into tears right in front of the big oaf. And from your point of view, he didn’t give a damn how he made you feel. As far as you were concerned, Sam didn’t care about you and never would. You were just a hindrance, a pest in his eyes. Just another mouth to feed, another person to watch out for, another warm body to get in the way. And you had had enough. Today was the last straw. You couldn’t live like this anymore.

As much as Dean hated the idea of losing you, he could understand your dilemma. He didn’t like to see you unhappy just like he didn’t like seeing Sam unhappy. He knew that the two of you would be happy together if you both would just stop pretending and let each other in. Even Dean didn’t understand what the true problem was. Sam never talked about you no matter how much his older brother had asked. He just chose to stay silent on the matter and lock that part of himself away where Dean couldn’t even decipher the younger man’s true issue.

When your sobs finally ebbed, Dean pulled back to look at your puffy eyes and tear stained face. His thumb rubbed across your wet cheek and he kissed against your hairline. “He cares about you, you know?” You couldn’t help but scoff, an ill humored smile on your face. “I mean it. He has a funny way of showing it, but he does.”

“He doesn’t give a fuck about me, Dean. Never has. Never will.” You sat up, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands before you sniffled. “I shouldn’t have even moved in. Should have walked away the moment that hunt was done.”

Dean shifted on the vinyl seat, turning himself as best he could toward you. “Having you on our team is the best thing that happened to any of us, ok? And don’t you ever think otherwise. Yeah, it’s been tense between you and Sam but I wouldn’t give up all the time we’ve had with you for anything. You’re family, kiddo. Whether Sam admits it or not, you mean a lot to him too.”

You heaved a sigh and turned yourself away from him, your hand coming to rest on the door handle. “I think it’s just time I leave, Dean. I love you, I really do but I just can’t do this anymore.” You refused to meet his gaze but you could imagine the hurt on your adopted brother’s face. His heavy sigh alone made you tear up again. Before he could say anything else to try and change your mind, you opened the door and made your way through the snow leaving the frowning Winchester watching as you walked away.

The moment you stepped back into the bunker, your only mission was to get to your room as quickly as possible and pack your things. The moment you made it to the bottom of the stairs, you realized that that wasn’t going to happen. Your eyes instantly met with swirling orbs of green and blue. They seemed softer than they usually were when he was looking at you. You only held his gaze for a moment before you quickly moved to step around him. You didn’t get far before you felt a large hand wrap around your forearm. You were too stunned to speak as your wide eyes lifted to look at the tallest Winchester. For a moment, you didn’t know what to do so you just stood there, locked in a silent staring contest with Sam.

Even though he had you here, now that he did, He didn’t even know what to say. How would he explain his behavior? How would he ever be able to apologize? His adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow and you couldn’t help it when your eyes dropped to watch it move as you swallowed thickly yourself. The pressure around your arm was tight but not uncomfortable and his skin was leaving a pleasant burn against your cold flesh. Thankfully, the awkward tension was broken when the door opened and Dean stepped in, causing Sam to let go of you and turn his intense gaze to his brother. This gave you time to quickly slip away, feeling a bit dizzy from the brief interaction.

Sam’s head quickly jerked his head around to catch sight of you disappearing around the corner. His brow wrinkled as he looked up at the door where Dean stood. The older Winchester simply shrugged and made his way down the stairs to his brother. “What did you say to her?” The growl in Sam’s tone didn’t go unnoticed to his older brother.

Dean quickly shot his hands up in surrender, the innocent middle man in this whole scenario. “I didn’t say anything. But I think you should.” His hands dropped and his eyes narrowed slightly at the taller man. “She’s talking about leaving, Sam.”

The words caused Sam’s eyes to widen and panic to wash over his features. “She can’t.”

“She can and she will if you don’t get your head out of your ass and stop her.” His brother’s firm tone was loud with his own fear of losing you. The gravity of the situation seemed to finally be sinking into the youngest Winchester’s skull and when Dean saw Sam’s walls beginning to crumble, he heaved a sigh of relief. Sam’s misty puppy dog eyes turned to Dean and the older man quickly pointed a finger. “Don’t look at me. Go fucking get the girl.” Dean’s eyes rolled when Sam finally spun on his heels and practically sprinted down the hall. “Jesus Christ. Gotta spell everything out for those two idiots.”

Normally Sam would be polite and knock on your door but this was an emergency and the moment he got to your room, he pushed the door open and let himself in. You instantly screamed as you tried to cover yourself with your shirt as you stood there in the middle of changing. Though he caught a quick glance of your matching pink underwear set, his face instantly went red and he slapped a hand over his eyes. “Sam! Learn to fucking knock. Jesus H. Christ.”

“I’m sorry. I just needed to talk to you.” His body was rigid as his hand was still clamped tightly over his eyes.

“You couldn’t wait five god damn seconds?” You hustled to quickly pull on your fleece pants and sweatshirt before turning back to him with a huff. “You can look now.” His hand fell from his face as you pulled your hair out of the collar of the sweatshirt and tossed the locks over your shoulders. Sam seemed mesmerized by this action, his eyes locked on you as if he had never seen you before. Your forehead wrinkled as you tilted your head at him. “Sam?”

The sound of his name from your lips caused his heart to skip a beat, jogging him from his trance. He cleared his throat before running his hand through his hair and taking a step closer. From the corner of his eye, he could see your suitcase sitting open on your bed and he frowned. When his eyes lifted to look at you, your face was hard even though your eyes were red and puffy. “Don’t go.”

A scoff passed your lips, an ill humored smile curling the corners. You crossed your arms with a roll of your eyes as one hip jutted out. “Don’t even act like you care if I stay or go, Sam.” Dean had clearly shared the information with his brother, but you’d deal with the eldest Winchester later. Your arm gestured out as your features took on an angry glare which only drove the knife further into Sam’s heart. “I’ve been here for months and all you do is push me away, yell at me, degrade me, disrespect me, ignore me.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word you spoke. “You don’t want me here, Sam Winchester and I don’t fucking stay where I’m not wanted!” You were yelling now, your face red with the rage and hurt you were feeling, anything to keep from crying.

“But I do want you here.” Sam’s voice was quiet and you thought you hadn’t heard him correctly. When he saw your expression, his timid voice lifted slightly to repeat himself. “I do want you here, Y/N.”

Another dark laugh passed your lips as you shook your head. “God, you are one confusing son of a bitch” Your words were spat out with a growl as you turned your back to him and headed to your closet to continue gathering your things.

His head hung, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. He could feel a bead of sweat slide down his back along with the layer on his forehead. He couldn’t help but allow his eyes to rake over your body, the figure of a strong independent hunter with a heart of gold, beautiful both inside and out. But you didn’t see it. You never knew how you looked through his eyes because he never told you.

A gasp fell from your lips and you jumped when you felt the warmth against your back. His hands had come to rest on your hips and you could feel his breath in your hair. When he had made his way to you, you didn’t know, you hadn’t even heard him. But now that he was so close, your heart began to race and hopefully he couldn’t feel the tremor that coursed through your body. “Sam, what are you doing?” You were surprised that your voice didn’t sound shaky.

“I’ve lost a lot of people in my life.” He started, his voice a heavy whisper above you. Your arms dared not fall to your sides in fear of touching more of his hot skin so instead your fingers remained clasped around the clothing hanging in your closet. You could feel each intake and exhale of breaths in his chest and your eyes closed for a moment as you tried to compose yourself. “People I’ve cared about. People I swore to protect. People I’ve loved.” His fingers clenched a little tighter against your hips and your breath hitched.

His face lowered so he could bury his nose in your hair and your head tilted to the side of its own accord. You still hadn’t opened your eyes and when you felt his breath against your ear you nibbled on your bottom lip. “I’ve done so much in my life that I’m not proud of. A lot of people have been hurt or died because of me. Sure, I’ve saved some people, took down the devil a couple of times. But in the end, I’m still just Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.”

You could hear the emotion in his voice and you couldn’t hold back anymore. You had to touch him. Your hands fell slowly to rest over top of his, tiny fingers curling around calloused digits. A breathy sigh passed from his lips and over your skin at the gesture. Your head leaned into him as he brought his face into the crook of your neck. You weren’t sure what was happening but you didn’t want it to stop. This was the most Sam had ever shared, the closest he had ever been to you and you were drowning in the feeling.

“I haven’t had a lot of good things in my life and the sliver of happiness I’ve been lucky enough to have, always were ripped away usually messy and bloody.” His voice seemed so young, so unlike the harsh and hateful tones you were used to. He sounded so nervous and vulnerable, a part of Sam you had yearned for for so long now within your grasp.

His long arms wrapped around your middle as he further molded himself against you and you couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your lips. His mouth was against your neck now as he spoke, his voice sending a pleasant vibration through you. “Everyone that ever gets involved with me gets hurt. Or dies.” You frowned as your nails scratched gently against his forearms. You felt as his tears slid down your chest. Your face turned to rest your lips against his stubbly cheek, a hand lifting to comb through his hair. You felt his arms tighten around you, clinging to you as if you were his lifeline.

A silence fell as you held each other, Sam’s body trembling with his emotions and you trying desperately to sooth his soul. “I care about you so much it’s terrifying.” He finally whispered against the goosebumps on your flesh.

Slowly you turned yourself around in his hold and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your fingers ran through his hair and you watched his face carefully. He wouldn’t look you in the eye, as if he was ashamed for you to see him at his weakest. Tucking a hand under his chin you lifted his face to yours. You both shared the same frown, his face wrinkled with his fear and anguish. Your head tilted as your features offered a tiny warm smile as your fingers glided along his jaw and cheek and he leaned helplessly into the tender touch.

The longer you touched him, the closer he held you the more you felt him start to relax. As if you were a healing balm to his spirit, a soothing oil to his soul, and calming warmth to his body. For so long, he had fought his feelings for you, so long he had tried to push you away and hide from the truth. When all he wanted to do was hold you like this. Sam wasn’t one to cower at much. Dean was the one that usually pushed people away and hid from his emotions. But you were so much more than anything or anyone Sam had ever cared about. It was better if he didn’t let you get too close. It was anger at himself that he took out on you to drive you away.

He hadn’t explained any of this to you, didn’t say a word as to why he acted the way he did toward you. But you knew, you could read it all in his eyes, those swirling pools of greens and blues and browns and golds. His eyes always held the secrets he was too afraid to share and the secrets he had never allowed you to see. But now he was open and vulnerable, allowing you into the deepest and darkest parts of you.  

“Don’t go. I can’t lose you too. You mean more than anything to me.” His lip trembled as he spoke, continuing to cling to you as if you would disappear if he blinked an eye. Sucking in a breath, it escaped through your lips and you could feel Sam shiver when it blew across his neck. “To me, You’re special.”

Your head tilted as you quirked the corner of your mouth into a smirk. “What like ‘stop eating the paste’ special?” Your tongue peaked out of the corner of your lips as you looked up at him batting your lashes.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, your little joke relieving some of the heavy tension between you. “Well, that too but I love you anyway.” When he realized what he had said, he paused to gauge your reaction.

You hadn’t lost your smile. You came up on your tiptoes, arms tightening around his neck to bring you closer. As your lips hovered close to his, you held his gaze as your lips parted. “I love you too, you big oaf.” Sam let out a breath against your face as a bright smile illuminated his face, a light far brighter than the sun. His arms easily hoisted you off the ground as his lips finally found yours. Feeling lighter than air, you bent your knees to kick your legs behind you as you smiled into the kiss.

A loud pounding on your door broke you both from your daydream. Sam lowered you to the floor again and even though you hated for it to end, you pulled away from the kiss, even though it did provide some much needed air. You collapsed against his body, wrapping your arms around his middle and you panted with a smile.

“I haven’t heard anything in a while. Just wanted to make sure you two haven’t killed each other.” The door opened a crack and Dean peaked a head in. When he saw the two of you, his face split open. “I can see that I am interrupting something. Carry on!” He closed the door and you rolled your eyes with a grin. “Use protection!” You heard him call out in the hall with a chuckle. Even if you wanted to, you could never leave either of the Winchester brothers. But now safely tucked in the arms of the younger, you never had reason to ever want to leave again.

[gillasue345]

Desiderium

12x02 Coda fic AO3

Desiderium:  an ardent desire or longing; especially :  a feeling of loss or grief for something lost.

Perhaps there is a limit to the grieving that the human heart can do. As when one adds salt to a tumbler of water, there comes a point where simply no more will be absorbed.

~Sarah Waters~

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

By the time Mary closed the journal with trembling fingers, her tea had long since gone cold. She sniffed, wiping furiously at the tears in her eyes, and pushed the journal away from her in disgust. She glanced at the chipped cup in front of her, untouched.

Her body was stiff as she stood up from the desk. The painful ache behind her nipples reminded her that she needed to pump before she went to bed. It was strange, she thought, to produce milk for a baby who was now a grown man. Her body still thought it was 1983, despite all evidence to the contrary around her.

A sob worked its way up her throat, but Mary caught it before the sound could break the silence of the room.

She swallowed the pain like she always had, pushed the anger that had arisen in her as she read her husband’s journal down. She picked up the cup, careful not to spill its contents. She slipped on a pair of old loafers she’d found in the wardrobe of her new bedroom and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. Mary needed something stronger than tea.

The bunker was still much like a maze, but she remembered which room was Sam’s. Out of habit, she cracked the door, glancing in. The light was still on but the room was silent save for the deep breathing of her youngest child. Sam was lying diagonally across the mattress of his bed, his knees bent so that they didn’t slip off the edge. On hand was cradled in the other, his thumb pressed into a deep scar on his palm.

He looked so vulnerable in sleep, so utterly exhausted that another sob threatened to break the peace of his room. Mary reached over, flipping the old fashioned light switch off and plunging Sam into darkness. She closed the door and continued down the hall.

Dean’s room was empty. She frowned, glancing at the delicate watch Dean had given her, hidden in a box of her things he’d kept, including her old vinyl records. It was late enough that she thought Dean would have gone to sleep by now. Mary closed his bedroom door and continued on to the kitchen. Maybe he was going to the bathroom or something.

The bunker was always cold, and Mary wrapped her robe more tightly around herself. She got lost only once, making a right turn and ending up in the “dungeon” as Dean had called it when he gave her the grand tour. Eventually, she found the right hallway, but slowed her steps as she approached the kitchen. Light was pouring into the hallway from its open doorway, and she heard the muffled sound of voices coming from within.

“Dean, please just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Mary stopped. She could hear the sound of beer bottles being thrown into the trashcan. A lot of beer bottles.

“Everything’s wrong, Cas.” Dean’s slurred voice echoed out into the hall. “She’s back. She’s alive and real and its like she was never even gone. Except she was gone, Cas. She was gone for so long, and I…” Dean trailed off.

Mary pressed her back against the wall. She should announce her presence, cough and enter. Apologize for the life her death caused. But she couldn’t move. Cas—she thought it was Cas anyway—sighed, and she listened to his footsteps as he crossed the kitchen, presumably to join her son.

“Dean—” Cas began, but before he could speak, Dean interrupted him.

“—Cas, she’s not my mom.”

“Of course she’s your mother.”

“No! I mean, fuck, I don’t know what I mean,” Dean let out a shuddering breath. “She’s different, Cas.”

“Dean, she’s just been dropped 33 years into the future. It’s going to take her some time to adjust to that.”

“No Cas. I mean she’s different from the mom I remember. All those memories I’ve clung to all these years… they weren’t real.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. She’s the same person, Dean.”

“No she isn't the same person. She is… Mary. Not Mom. Mary is the hunter, the fighter. Mary… doesn’t cook. I mean… even with that vet, when she told you to hurt him. That’s not the mother I remember. That’s not the mother who made me tomato rice soup when I got the chicken pox. That’s not the mom who used to sing me to sleep and tell me angels were watching over me Cas.”

“But it is.”

“No, that’s like saying the way Sam was at Stanford is the same Sam who’s sleeping down the hall.”

“It may be a… different side of her, but don’t you remember what it was like with Lisa and Ben?” Cas asked gently. Mary wondered who Lisa and Ben were. “Don’t you remember getting out of the hunting life?” Mary’s breath caught in her throat. Dean had gotten out of the life too? Why was he back? Why did her children ever come back to this life if they had a chance at happiness?

“Cas, I drank a fifth of whiskey every night just to stay functional with them.”

“I watched you with them,” Cas said, and it sounded like a confession. Dean didn’t respond. “You got out of the life. And you may not have been happy, but you were content, if not resigned to it. There was a day that I needed your help with Raphael. It was autumn. And you were raking leaves. And I watched you. You looked so… miserable. So lost. But then you went inside, and you forced yourself to smile. You helped Ben with his homework. Fractions. You made apple cobbler. You put on an act. And that night, you locked all the doors and windows, you checked the devils’ trap on the door. You drank four glasses of whiskey and out of habit, checked the obituaries for unexplained deaths. You never really got out.” Cas’ speech hung in the air for a moment. “But you weren't the same man with them either.”

“All the memories I have of her are false,” Dean finally said. “She got out of the life, Cas. And I remember her differently.”

“You have the idolized recollections of a child,” Castiel said. “It’s natural to feel confused when the memory you’ve clung to for so long turns out to be different in reality.”

Dean chuckled, low and deep. “Thanks Dr. Phil.”

“I am not a doctor, Dean.”

"You know, I’ve been trying to recreate her meatloaf recipe for years? Years Cas! And she fucking bought the goddamn thing at the Piggly Wiggly. It’s like everything I know about her is gonna turn out be a lie.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“But what if it is? Cuz man… having her back, getting to know her, it feels like I’ve lost her all over again. And it’s hard to let go of the memories because that was all I had for so long.” Dean started crying, and Mary felt something break loose deep within her chest. His raw grief pierced her like an ice pick to the belly, and she felt her own tears well up in her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long he cried, but eventually his sobs quieted. Mary was paralyzed on the ground in front of the kitchen. She should go to him. She should comfort him.

But Mary couldn’t move.

Dean’s voice cut through the sudden silence. “Yesterday morning, she said ‘he was a great father,’ with such… certainty man, and it…I resented it,” Dean trailed off. He coughed. “I resented her for the first time.”

Cas didn't speak, but Mary could imagine his inquisitive expression, even with having known him only a  few short days.

“He wasn’t a great father. Hell he wasn’t even a good father after she died. She became his excuse for every shitty thing he ever did. We had to stay in crap motels because he was hunting the thing that killed mom. We were always on the move because he had a job to do. He let the job consume him. He drank so much because he was sad. And I think… I think deep down I always resented her for leaving us to deal with him.”

Mary’s eyes, already filled with tears, snapped shut, and she buried her head in her hands. The movement jostled the cup of tea resting on her lap. Cold liquid seeped into the fabric of her robe, staining the nightgown beneath. She gasped.

“And then I felt guilty,” Dean continued. “I felt so damn guilty, because it wasn’t her fault he was such a shit father. She doesn't deserve to be blamed for that.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Castiel agreed.

“But I’m afraid of bursting her bubble. I’m afraid of telling her all the things that happened because then both of us will feel this way.”

“Overwhelmed?” Cas clarified.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “Because how can I ever get past the fact that the great father she was speaking about was the same one who was off on a bender the first time I got raped by some douchebag motel manager, because the room money went straight to his liver?” The confession came out in a rush, like he’d never said those words out loud before. He probably hadn’t.  He paused before continuing. “That the guy she remembered was the same man who beat me bloody because Sammy ran away in Flagstaff and I couldn’t find him? The same man who told Sammy if he went to college to never come back? How do I break her heart like that? So I pretend everything’s okay. Just like I always do. I push the hurt down and pretend it’s all fine. I eat the pie because that’s what they expect. I make the jokes. I can be that for her, because I refuse to be the one that breaks her too.”

“You can’t keep this bottled up,” Castiel said. “But you don’t have to tell her.” Castiel hesitated before he continued. “You can tell me, Dean.”

There was a long, long pause. “I can’t put all this shit on you, man.” Dean’s voice was soft, quiet. He sounded half asleep.

“You can and you will, Dean. That’s what family is for.”

Mary felt her fists clench. Anger flared through her at her son’s words. How could she have been so stupid? It was so much worse than growing up as hunters. John raised them in the life, which was bad enough, but then to neglect them? To beat them? To put them in dangerous situations? This wasn’t the John she knew. But the John she knew was a mechanic. Not a hunter.

The John she knew was strong, stubborn, loving. He was the kind of father who doted on his children. Who made chili hot enough to clear your sinuses, and who burnt the cornbread every time.

Her John wasn’t a cold man so hell bent upon revenge that he forgot to live.

The men in the kitchen weren’t speaking anymore. She heard footsteps coming toward her. Before she could move out of the way, Castiel emerged, carrying the bulk of Dean’s weight on his shoulder as they walked towards Dean’s bedroom. Cas stopped abruptly, staring at her slumped against the wall, with tears streaming down her face.

Dean was too far gone to even notice her there, he leaned heavily against Cas’ side, his eyes half shut as Castiel led the way. Castiel didn't say anything to her.

He returned alone a few minutes later. Mary hadn’t moved.

Silently Castiel bent to pick up the overturned cup, and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her up. Mary winced. It had been too long since she pumped. The ache in her chest had flared to sharp stabbing needles.

She followed Castiel into the kitchen. She saw the waste bin and bit her lip. It was full of bottles. Strewn across the floor in between the island and the stove were dozens of pictures.

She knelt down and picked them up as Castiel put the cup in the sink. He grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels carefully hidden in one of the large ceramic crocks on the bottom shelf of the pantry and got two glasses. Mary moved over to the wooden table. She spread the pictures out in front of her. Several of them were familiar to her. But most of them were from after she died.

Castiel sat opposite her. He still hadn’t said a word and neither had she. She continued to pore over the pictures. One of Sam and Dean with an older man with a ginger beard and a trucker cap. One with a teenaged Sam awkwardly standing next to a girl with braces and brown hair. One with Dean, his hair long and greasy, leaning over the engine of the Impala, a plaid shirt tied carelessly around his waist as he worked.

Dean, gangly and tall, in the leather jacket she’d gotten John for Christmas last year—no, she reminded herself. The leather jacket she’d gotten John the Christmas before she died. Before she burned.

They were some of the missing pieces she’d been craving.

“I could take that away,” Castiel said, finally breaking the silence.

Mary gripped the pictures tighter to her, defensively. “Take what away?” she asked, rather more harshly than she intended.

“Your discomfort,” Cas said. “From lactating,” he clarified.

Mary crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you know about that?” she asked.

“I’m an angel.”

Mary almost laughed. Castiel was the furthest thing from what Mary considered angelic. “I’m fine,” she replied automatically. “My body just hasn’t caught up to 2016 yet.”

“I can help with that,” Castiel offered. “I could heal your pain.”

“What can you possibly know about my pain?”

“I know you heard what Dean said.” Castiel’s voice was even, calm, but with a hint of accusation beneath it. “He’d be mortified if he found out you heard him.”

“Is it true?” Mary asked, her voice was small and she couldn't meet Cas’ gaze. She stared at the wood tabletop’s uneven stain, picking with a fingernail at a scratch on the surface. “What he said about what happened to him?”

“Yes,” Cas replied. “But I’m almost certain he's never told anyone about it before. The only reason he told me, I suspect, is because he was very intoxicated. More than he’s been in a while.”

“Does he… drink often?”

Cas bit his lip. In a very human gesture, he ran a hand through his hair. “He drinks to forget, but I thought he was getting a little better. Tonight was a… step back.”

“What does he need to forget so badly that he drinks so much?” Mary asked. What had happened to her baby that was so bad that he hid behind a bottle? What else was her fault?

“His nightmares are from his time in hell, mostly. Sometimes he has nightmares about a man with rancid breath and crooked yellow teeth. I try to calm those as soon as I feel them coming on. But sometimes he dreams about his time with Lisa and Ben. Those are the good nights.”

“Ben? The vampire that bitch of letters was talking about?” Mary asked, latching onto the familiar name because she refused to think about her son in Hell. Refused to think about her son being raped.

“No,” Cas said. “Ben Braeden. His son.”

The bottom dropped out of Mary’s stomach. “I have a grandson?”

“Yes,” Cas said. “Dean was never one hundred percent positive, but he was Ben’s father. A few years back Dean made me wipe Ben's memories of him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Lisa, Ben’s mother, took Dean in after… after Sam stopped the apocalypse. After Sam died, Dean got out of the hunting life. But the hunting life never… really left him. When he went back on the road, Lisa and Ben were kidnapped by some demons. Lisa almost died, and Ben had to do some things no child should ever have to do,” Cas recited the narrative like he was reading an owners manual. “Dean broke ties to protect them. To keep Ben out of the life he grew up in. And he hates himself for it.”

Fresh tears fell, covering the dried tear tracks from before.

“I should have protected them,” she finally said. “I should have warded the house. I should have been more vigilant. If I had, none of this would have happened.”

Castiel reached across the table, grasping Mary’s hand in his. “It would have happened anyway.”

“Then I should have told John before it did. I should have prepared him. Told him about the life so that he could have handled it better. I shouldn’t have hidden behind a facade of a normal life,” her voice raised. She was yelling now, so angry at her own cowardice. “I was such a fool, Castiel.”

“Your life has been predestined from the moment you were born,” Cas replied. “You and John… had to get together. You had to live your life away from hunting. It was destiny.”

“Why?”

Cas bit his lip. “So Sam and Dean could be born. So they could fulfill the prophecy of the apocalypse.”

Mary shook her head, snatching her hand back. It was too much to process. She reached over and took the bottle of whiskey from Cas’ grasp and poured a healthy portion for both of them. Mary downed hers in one swallow, slamming the glass onto the tabletop so hard she almost broke it.

“How do I do it Castiel? How do I connect with them again? Just... last week they were babies. And now… they’re older than I am.”

Castiel contemplated her question, sipping idly at the whiskey she’d poured him. “I think, with Sam it will be easier. He has no memories of you. No real ones anyway. It will be a clean slate. But Dean…” Castiel trailed off.

“He has this notion of who I am. Who I was. And I’m not measuring up.”

“How could you?” Castiel asked gently. “You… his memory of you… You were in many ways a saint to Dean. He isn’t a man of faith. But that doesn't mean he was a faithless man. Dean put his faith into family. Into your memory. Into honoring you, and being brave for you. Being strong because in many ways he had to fill your shoes after you died.” Mary roughly brushed more tears from her eyes. Castiel smiled sadly. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me Mary, I won’t judge you for them.”

Mary laughed. It was a broken, hollow laugh, but the weak smile she gave was almost genuine. “Thank you, Castiel. Thank you for watching over them.”

Cas smiled tightly. He stood up, and clapped a hand to her shoulder. “It’s all going to be okay, Mary.” Instantly, the pain behind her nipples subsided, the heavy feeling in her breasts gone. Cas healed her. Helped her body stop lactating for a baby who no longer needed the sustenance. She pressed a hand on top of his in gratitude.

He left then, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Mary stared at the bottle in front of her and poured another glass.

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

The sound of a cabinet door shutting snapped her out of a deep sleep. A blanket wrapped loosely around her shoulders fell to the ground as Mary sat up, groaning at the crick in her neck and the throbbing of her temples. The bottle of whiskey was half empty, and she felt every single drop as nausea rolled her stomach and spun the world.

“Oh god,” she groaned, pressing a trembling hand to her head. “Oh, mistakes were made last night.”

A laugh from the other side of the kitchen startled her. Dean stood at the stove, his back to her. He looked over his shoulder. “Have fun?” he asked, glancing pointedly at the bottle in front of her.

She studied him. He didn't even look hungover. “Did you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at the beer bottles filling the trash can next to the door.

Dean shrugged. “Needed to let off some steam.”

“Me too,” Mary replied. She stood up and stretched. The familiar ache to pump was gone, and Mary found she missed the sensation. She missed the feeling of being needed.

She moved from the table to the kitchen island, taking a seat at the stool as she watched her son cook.  Mary laughed and shook her head. Dean turned around, a piece of bacon still held in his tongs. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Mary said. Dean shrugged and turned back, pulling the bacon out of the pan and starting another batch. “Dean,” Mary began, and he faced her, expectant and looking a little annoyed. “I just wanted to say… I mean I just wanted to tell you…” She couldn’t find the right words. Finally she took a deep breath. “Sam gave me John’s journal,” she said. “I’m… so sorry.”

Dean put the tongs down. He walked around the island to where Mary was sitting. Gently, he pressed a hand to her cheek.

“You don’t have to be, Mom.” He pulled her into a hug. When he pulled back, tears were in his eyes, welling up like rain drops on a windshield. Mary reached out and wiped them away, just like she always did.

“Mom?” he began.

“Yes?” she replied, wiping away her own tears.

“How do you like your eggs?” he asked simply.

It was an olive branch. A chance for them to start over, to get to know one another without the expectations of who each of them remembered. And as much as Mary wanted to fall onto her knees and beg for forgiveness for leaving her son behind to clean up her mess, Mary took it.

“Fried, medium.”

Dean’s face lit up in the first genuine smile Mary had seen in days. “Me too.”