#also Cas would wear a ring on both hands

[gogogodzilla]

peeta mellark being you to let him eat your 🐱

Just a Taste || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, cunnilingus, porn with plot, panty sniffing, reader is wearing a dress, panty stealing masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

The stage of the training center under your heels was a familiar feeling. The stage lights shone brightly, and you squinted slightly as you walked out with Peeta hand in hand. The air practically crackled with energy as the booming applause from the audience of Capitol citizens nearly deafened you. 

Caesar Flickerman warmly welcomed both of you. He gave you a good-natured kiss on the cheek and shook Peeta’s hand. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to how touchy the Capitol people were. 

Once the crowd settled down, Caesar gave the two of you a beaming smile. “It’s an absolute delight to have the two of you here once again,” he exclaimed and you wondered how he got his teeth to be so white. “The Victory Tour has been a success, wouldn’t you say? What has been the most memorable moment for you both?” 

Peeta squeezed your hand before answering, “As much as I’ve loved spending some time in all of the districts, the most unforgettable part was spending time with the person I love and sharing our love with the districts.” 

You feigned embarrassment at his words and looked away. You couldn’t avoid the heat that flooded your cheeks, which brought a boisterous laugh from Caesar. “You two are adorable. I love it!” he gushed. 

The audience cheered in response, and Peeta kissed your knuckles. After a few moments, Caesar settled the audience down and turned back to the two of you. “I’m sure you both know that we have immensely enjoyed seeing your love blossom in front of us. It’s truly a marvelous sight.” 

“Thank you, Caesar. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to be here with you and the rest of the Capitol citizens,” you give him a dazzling smile before turning to Peeta. “I am also incredibly grateful to be here with the love of my life. I couldn’t ask for anything better,” your gaze softens as you look at Peeta. The audience ‘awws’ and cooed at the two of you while Caesar pressed a hand to his heart. 

“Ugh, we can’t get enough of you two. What does the future look like for the two of you? I’m sure we’re all eager to see more of your love blossoming,” Caesar questioned and the audience buzzed with excitement. 

You shared a glance with Peeta. You gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and he turned to Caesar. 

“The future looks bright as long as I have my love by my side,” he answered, allowing a hush to fall over the crowd. Damn, he was good at this. “And I would like to have my love by my side for as long as we both shall live,” his voice trembled slightly as he pulled out a small velvet box. He got on one knee and looked up at you. Your hand covered your mouth in feigned shock. “My love, you have been my light in the darkest times, and I can’t imagine a future where you’re with me. Will you make me the happiest man in Panem and marry me?” 

Emotions swelled within you. Peeta was laying it on a bit thick, but you didn’t care. You nodded your head, forgetting to speak for a moment. He slightly raised his brow, and you forced yourself to speak. 

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding rapidly. Your voice returned and you spoke louder, “Of course I’ll marry you.” 

Applause and cheers thundered throughout the room as Peeta got to his feet and slid the ring onto your finger. Peeta’s smile was radiant as he pulled you into a kiss which caused the audience to roar even louder. You grinned as you kissed him back. You truly did care for him, and didn’t mind being stuck with him forever. You would’ve been dead without him. 

As you pulled away, Caesar dabbed his eyes theatrically and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Peeta kept his hand around your waist as you curled up against his side.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, a proposal during the Victory Tour! This is certainly a night to remember, wouldn’t you say?” Caesar beamed as he swept an arm out toward the crowd which roared in response. 

Peeta held you close as the interview wrapped up. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and you couldn’t fight the grin that graced your features. Eventually, your time with Caesar was over and you were ushered off the stage. 

Effie met you as you exited and she clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful work you two. Now, time to get ready for the reception President Snow offered to throw to celebrate the two of you. It’ll be a party of the ages,” she declared, walking quickly as you returned to your quarters. 

Cinna intercepted you as you stepped off the elevator. You clung onto Peeta’s hand until the last possible second. 

Cinna grinned as he led you away, “Don’t worry, you’ll have some time to catch up before we leave.” 

“Can’t I just wear what  I have on?” you thumbed the fabric of your dress as you walked, frowning slightly. 

He chuckled, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

He led you to your room and helped you onto your podium in front of the mirror. Cinna got to work almost immediately, fluttering around you with practiced movements. The soft rustle of fabric accompanied his steps as he brought the dress over to you. He quickly got you changed, his gentle hands working wonders as the fabric draped over your body. Cinna’s hands danced delicately over your hair, weaving it into an elegant style perfect for the celebration tonight. 

“You look radiant,” Cinna complimented as he stepped back to admire his work in the mirror. 

You met his gaze in the mirror, a grateful smile on your lips, “It’s all because of you.” 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and a knock sounded at your door. You both turned and Peeta poked his head in.  A soft smile made its way onto your features as he stepped into the room and finally got a good look at you. His eyes widened as they raked over your form, and your cheeks flushed. 

“You look…” Peeta’s words faltered as his gaze remained on you. “Wow,” was all he managed to come up with as he took a few steps toward you. 

Cinna chuckled, “I’ll let you two have a moment. You have 15 minutes before Effie’s going to come knocking.” 

He gave you a suggestive look as he left, and the flush of your cheeks spread. Peeta held out his hand so he could help you down, and you graciously took it. 

You ran your fingers over his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his suit. “Portia outdid herself… You look amazing,” you grinned, tugging him closer. 

His hands wrapped around your waist, enveloping you like they had done so many times before. This time it was different though. The soft scent of his cologne engulfed you as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but there was something more to it. Something hungry. 

“Is it bad that I’m glad we’re stuck together forever?” you whispered as you pulled away to catch your breath. 

He grinned, “You make marriage sound so pleasant.” 

You chuckled in response and pulled him into another, deeper kiss. You tugged him by the lapels toward your bed, acutely aware of the seconds ticking by before Effie would be knocking. 

His hands wandered across your hips as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your bed and you slowly fell back. You parted for long enough to scoot back and Peeta eagerly followed you. His lips were back to devouring you within moments. You let out a small noise as he slotted his knee between your legs, the smooth fabric of his slacks brushing against your inner thighs. 

 You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath. Something shifted between you, and your entire body seemed to hum with need. Peeta caged your head between his forearms and his nose bumped against yours. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you trailed off as Peeta scattered kisses across your neck. 

He grinned against your collarbone, “I’m sure they’ll understand if I want to take a few minutes to ravish my fiancée.” 

Your cheeks flared at his words. There had been rumors going around all tour that Peeta’s nightly visits to your room were far from innocent cuddling. You did little to dispel them, though. You couldn’t deny that this was the first time you’d felt this hunger for Peeta. 

He ran his hands up the bare skin of your thighs, and your heart fluttered. 

“Just a taste,” he murmured as he scattered kisses across your covered breasts and moved down your body. “Please, my love. I just need a taste.” 

He ran his fingertips over your thighs as he situated himself between them. You craned your head to look down at him, and the sight of him had heat pooling between your legs. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes you couldn’t resist, begging for permission to ruin you. With the slight inclination of your head, he was sliding the fabric of your skirt to the side, letting his hands wander across your hips and thighs. 

He pressed featherlight kisses across your inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them in place. His breath fanned over the thin fabric of your panties, and you instinctively clenched them together. His grip held you in place as you squirmed, aching for more. 

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your under and tugged them down and off your body. Your eyes widened as he brought your panties to his nose and inhaled your scent. He let out a noise that was something like a whimper combined with a groan, and you flushed. 

He set your panties to the side and settled between your thighs. A gasp escaped you as he swiped his tongue through your folds. His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to his eager mouth. His tongue worked relentlessly against your sopping core, circling your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. 

You wanted desperately to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, but you settled for the blanket below you. You were sure that Peeta’s prep team might have your head if you messed up his hair. 

You slapped one hand over your mouth, muffling the desperate pleas and whines that escaped your lipstick-covered lips. Peeta eagerly lapped up everything you were giving him, and his nose bounced against your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. Peeta reached up to intertwine his fingers with yours, grounding you.

Peeta whined against you, sending vibrations coursing through you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your hips jutted against him, grinding against his tongue. Every fiber of your being was tensed and ready to snap. 

Peeta’s tongue circled your clit once more, and your release had you arching against the mattress, pushing you closer to his mouth. Your thighs attempted to clamp around Peeta’s head as you spasmed against him. He helped you to ride out your high, and his fingertips dug into the plush of your thighs. 

After a few moments you stilled, and Peeta pressed comforting kisses against your inner thighs. You lifted your head to look at him, and your cheeks flushed at the sight. Your arousal had covered the bottom half of his face, and a satisfied grin covered his features. 

“You did so good,” he praised as he crawled forward to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and a groan left you. 

You were able to sneak in a few more lingering kisses before Effie’s knock sounded at your door. Peeta crawled off of you and helped you to the edge of your bed, your skirts only slightly getting in the way. 

He grabbed your panties before you could and shoved them in the front pocket of his suit. 

“For safekeeping,” he murmured with a grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to kiss you. You scowled at him in response but kissed him nonetheless. 

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the rest of your arousal off his face before neatly tucking it back in its rightful place. You shuffled to the bathroom to clean yourself up, returning moments later looking slightly more put together. 

Effie knocked once again, more insistently this time. You cringed, sensing the inevitable lecture you’d receive later. 

Peeta held his arm out for you to take, and you gladly clung to him. 

“Shall we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Let’s get this over with.”

#peeta mellark x reader smut #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark x reader #reader insert #no y/n #the hunger games #catching fire #peeta mellark #thg #thg peeta #zilla answers

[castieldelamancha]

"Marry me."

Dean huffs loudly, both at Castiel's occurrences and also at how difficult it is to navigate this forest in the middle of the night, carrying Castiel in his arms.

He feels the need to laugh, but it may come out as something bordering hysteria.

"Really, Cas, you are asking me that right now?" Both of them covered in dirt and blood, Dean silently praying whoever is listening they make it to the car in time, Sam following close behind, covering them in case the monster they just killed, and that almost kills Cas before that, didn't have a friend lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce and finish the job " you haven't lost that much blood yet."

That gets him an upset huff from Cas, who rolls his eyes, "I'm not asking because I'm delirious, I am completely in my right mind, I just -"

"You aren't going to die," he cuts him off, forcefully, "you don't get to make a big declaration and die on me." The again is loud and clear there, even if Dean doesn't say it out loud. He cradles Castiel even closer to his chest, praying even harder, walking even faster.

"I read somewhere," Castiel says, quietly, a calm sea that clashes with Dean's inner ragging storm, "that when the moment is right to ask you simply know it. I thought you and I, what we have, was above such simple human tags and conventions, but I was wrong." He sounds a bit out of breath now, and Dean is about to tell him to shut up and not waste his energy, but Castiel is quick to add, "It would be nice to celebrate our love, find another way," his voice shakes a little, is he cold? is the wound getting to him as the adrenaline wears off? Their eyes met and while Dean can see the faint ghost of pain there, he doesn't see any fear, like Castiel is sure Dean won't let anything else happen to him on his watch and that trust is the greatest gift he has ever received, in his entire life, "to express how much I appreciate you, your love, your care," he raises a hand, slowly, the movement sluggish, he presses his fingertips to Dean's lips, "I know you don't do any of it because you expect something back, not even a thank you."

"You don't even have a ring, man." Dean says, as soon as Castiel moves his hand back, letting out a watery laugh, feeling a mix of emotions rush through him, an immense love for the man in his arms, a great relief since he can see the impala, waiting for them.

Castiel manages a sheepish smile, a light shrug, "that's true, but I can offer you everything else that I have, everything I am."

"I will marry you, you weirdo." He dips his head down, pressing a kiss to Castiel's forehead, he gets a bright, albeit tired smile back, a muttered I love you than he answers with one of his own.

"Uh, guys, congratulations?" Sam says after a beat of silence.

"Thanks Sam." Castiel smiles over Dean's shoulder at him.

"Yeah, thanks, whatever." Dean grunts. "Couldn't wait not even five damn minutes to ask me." He mutters under his breath, shaking his head, smiling to himself.

"You have to agree I have given us a great story to tell people." Dean laughs lightly.

"You totally have, sweetheart."

#destiel #smh at myself #ficlet #vanessa writes #i have reached a whole new level of cheesiness gotta love this for myself #long post #tuserpris

[nevarroes]

Would love to see some thinking on Gortcas and their jewellery choices, (esp. as Gort grows bbgchggghhgc)

I kinda mentioned Gortash’s current jewelry choices over here regarding what he wears nd doesn't anymore but... additionally I see him as someone that wears it both to show off and for status. Like that’s how he saw nobles/upper class people when he wasn’t one so now that he made himself one he’s gonna do it even more type of way. I suppose he also thinks it looks cool tho🤒

Cas on the other hand started wearing this much jewelry when he was an incubus to stand out, more an individuality thing rather than how others see him. To me a lot of the incubi and succubi would, sure, conform to what’s seen as attractive but in the progress all kinda end up looking similar. Cas is obviously attractive in the same conventional, if a bit more extreme and “fake” way but he didn’t want to melt together with the others like that ever, especially since he saw himself as superior nd often as like.... "the only one with a brain". So he just did a lot of adorning himself, go a bit beyond with his body, not cut his hair as everyone wanted him to etcetc. There’s no deep sentimentality attached to most of his pieces, they were just what he liked and had made to be like cccthat, some were made anew or replaced a bit later but he kept them around because he still likes them and they’re made of infernal metal and he doesn’t have much left of his home otherwise.

anyways to say smth about individual pieces though, Cas often keeps on his rings and even adds toe rings when he’s naked because it makes him feel more… individual. It’s just incubus mindset carrying over tbh, he wants to be the special one, the one that’s adorned unlike the other incubi because he’s greater u get the gist. The anklets and also the one bracelet he owns were actually a gift from Gortash🙏 Not in a very deep meaningful way, it was very much just “I thought it’d look good on you” and Gortash is…. I mean he does act a little like his sugar daddy sometimes lets be real, so that's that😭

#blakemail #gortcas lore #cas lore

[lost-between-letters]

Quality Time

Pairing: Jack Kline X Winchester!Reader (she/her)

Requested by: anon

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: none

Summary: Dean and Sam were out on a hunt. What did that mean? Quality time with Jack! Aka a fluffy spa day

A/N: can be read both platonic and romantic. Also fun fact, it's currently half past three AM over here and I'm posting this due to a dopamine rush from writing some original stuff (as in my own characters within my own little world)

Today was one of those lovely slow days. The bunker was blissfully quiet, for once there was no music blaring from Dean's room or Sam persuading her to go out and talk to some kids in the village. Cas had taken off for a top secret meeting (that Y/N was pretty sure just meant that he was going out on a date with Dean once him and Sam were done helping Donna out with the vampires) and Jack was in his room, probably catching up on Lord Of The Rings.

Y/N was bored out of her mind.

And what did she do in those instants? Annoy other people to death.

Namely, Jack. Her brothers were not there and for what she had in mind, Dean would run like the devil himself was on his tail and Sam wouldn't make it fun. So Jack it was.

She picked up her phone to shoot him a quick warning text (he could be naked after all - last time Y/N barged in on Dean it hadn't been pretty).

Luckily, Jack was delighted at the idea of some company and said he was okay with her little plan. A spa day!

Damn, Y/N was never more happy about the fact that he hadn't inherited any toxic masculinity from her fake dudebro older brother. So off to the bathroom it was to gather her favourite supplies and change into her fuzziest pair of socks and the biggest hoodie she could find.

Okay, and a little stop at the kitchen as well. There was no such thing as snacks not desired.

"Jack, I hope you're wearing your comfiest clothes right now!" Y/N knocked on his door (or slammed her elbow against it while the things she were carrying threatened to spill over), "can I come in?"

"Yes!"

It was a little struggle to open the door without her hands but Y/N managed.

And promptly almost fell over her own feet.

Jack shot up from where he had been sitting on his bed, face scrunched up with worry, and reached out to take the blankets from the top of the pile. "Is this everything or should I help you carry more?"

Sweet helpful Jack. How could someone not be at least a little in love with him? Y/N shook her head before the hearts in her eyes were painfully obvious and opted to dump the rest of her things on his bed.

"Nope, that's all," she said cheerily and walked over to switch on some quiet music. Standing still wasn't her strong suit. Which was ironic, considering that she was about to sit tight for a while now. Y/N tilted her head towards Jack, "any wishes music wise?"

"Please just something from this decade," he requested.

Y/N chuckled. Yeah, Dean had ensured that they could recite just about every glorious rock song from the sixties to the nineties perfectly. But new stuff? Unheard of as long as Dean had control of the music playing. Ah, the upsides of being home alone.

So Y/N went into her happy playlist and put it on shuffle. That ought to set the mood for some relaxing.

When she had placed her phone on top of the blue tooth speaker Sam had gifted Jack, she was faced with him looking curiously at the several brightly coloured containers.

He picked one up gingerly, as if he was afraid it might explode or spew poison at him, and held it out to her. "What are we using these for?"

"For a spa day!" Y/N said and clapped once, "first, we'll go and wash our faces and then put on one of those fancy face masks. You're holding a peeling by the way. We can do that too but it feels itchy on your skin."

That made Jack toss it back down. "No thank you. But we can try a face mask? What does it do?"

Since Jack had become a steady part of her life, Y/N tended to forget about how little he actually knew about mundane things. Though she had to give it to him, chances were high that neither of her brothers would be able explain the intricacies of an extended skin care routine if she put a gun against their heads. Not that this stuff was life threatening.

So Y/N bit back the ugly part of herself that wanted to laugh at his loss of knowledge (and was ashamed of it a great deal), and instead sat down on the ground with crossed legs. From there, she pulled each item from the pile and explained what it was used for or how it should work. On multiple occasions, Y/N opened a lid and let Jack touch the lotion to get a feel for the texture or held it up for him to smell.

Jack soaked up all her careful explanations like a dry sponge and nodded along attentively. He pushed questions of his own in between such as "is that supposed to feel like water? It's so smooth and cold but thicker."

Which either sent Y/N into a fit of giggles or an existential crisis when his remarks got a little too philosophical ("why do you have to use so many products to keep up a natural look as you just described? I thought natural meant that it's the default for the human body and not something that takes hours of preparation." "Society is a bitch like that sometimes." "I do not understand." "Let's have it stay that way.")

An album played through later, they were ready to apply the first face mask.

Y/N put it on Jack first, using a wide brush to spread it evenly. His lips curled into a smile under the feathery touch. "It tickles."

"Tell me if it starts feeling bad, alright?" She said because she had some nasty experiences with allergic reactions.

Jack merely nodded and closed his eyes. "It's cold. Like if I put my face into water and let it dry. Only that the drying takes longer."

When she was done with him - Jack's skin was now coated in a baby blue layer of cream which made him look younger than his body and mind suggested, and a little ridiculous (but that was the point of this, wasn't it?) - she handed the brush over to him. "Now me."

Jack took it from her hand and carefully dipped it into the container. With the sticky goo applied to it, he let it hover over her face for a moment. "And I just spread it on your skin?"

"Just like I did with you," Y/N said softly and leaned forward to encourage him.

It took another second of nervous hovering before Jack brushed the mask on. He was slow with it, his brows pulled together in concentration as his eyes followed the line of the brush carefully.

It tickled. Y/N laughed quietly and barely resisted the urge to lean into him even more. "You're doing great."

"It's soothing," Jack said and moved on to her forehead, "the repetition of the movement. Feels a bit like painting but the canvas is on your skin."

"Right." She had never thought of it that way before but it made sense.

Silence fell over them after that while Jack was making sure that every part of her face was meticulously covered with the face mask. Y/N could have stayed there all day and let him draw the brush over her skin.

She opened her eyes once she felt him lean back.

"All done." Jack held out the brush for her to take back and she placed it on the nightstand where a towel was waiting for dirtied hands or tools. "What now?"

"Now we let the masks soak in," Y/N said and scooted up until she was leaning against his bedframe, "and then, we'll paint each other's nails."

Jack nodded and moved up beside her. Their shoulders bumped as he pulled up his knees. "Can I have mine green?"

"Sure thing!"

Twenty minutes flew by without either of them noticing. The only reminder was the timer Y/N had set for them to wash off the face masks and it startled both of them.

Jack came back from the bathroom with a rosy face and a smile on his lips that felt like the first few sunbeams on a good day. Y/N just had to smile back, warmth spreading in her chest.

"Who first?" She held up two tiny bottles of nail polish, one forest green, the other pastel orange.

"Me? I don't know how to do this either."

Y/N shrugged and crossed her legs. "It's okay. Here, give me your hand."

Jack did as she asked, his fingers warm in hers. After a moment of consideration, Y/N pulled his hand down on the side of her knee as a make shift table.

Then, she unscrewed the nail polish and handed the bottle over to Jack. "This will feel a little cold at first. Try not to touch it, the polish needs to dry first."

"Okay." Jack nodded and held the bottle tightly with his free hand.

After another quick glance upwards, Y/N leaned over his fingers and started painting carefully. Jack's nails were well kept but short so it was pretty easy to apply the polish, even when she hadn't been the best at keeping her hand steady.

Jack was humming along to the song in the background while Y/N moved from one finger to the next.

When she was finished, she patted his wrist once. "You like it?"

"Yes, thank you," Jack said after inspecting them with awe. "Can I do yours now or should I wait until it's dry?"

"We can try now." Y/N unscrewed the orange nail polish for him (as that was the part that almost always messed up her own nails) and handed him the brush this time.

Jack took it gingerly and patted his own knee. "Can you put your hand here, please?"

That was it. He was trying to kill her. No one could possibly be so sweet.

And because Y/N was pretty fine with that, she did as Jack had asked.

He picked up her thumb and turned it for better access before applying the polish.

As with the face mask, Jack was careful with every new stroke, making sure not to let a drop get where it wasn't supposed to be. Y/N was positively melting.

Her nails took about double the time than did his but Y/N was fine with it. Especially when Jack looked up with a proud smile, and leaned back to crack his back from sitting hunched over. "That was fun! The polish has a different feel to it, almost like water when I used too much."

"Yeah, nail polish is tricky," Y/N agreed and held her hands in the air. "They take some time to dry now, let's lay down."

And they did just that. Jack spread out on his back, hands hovering over his face as he inspected them. Y/N wanted to lean over and kiss his cheek.

Instead of that, she only moved herself until she could put her head on Jack's stomach. From there, she could look up and at his nails too. "The colour suits you."

"Thank you. Yours too," he said.

Y/N grinned. "Thanks."

The music played on in the background as they waited for their nails to dry. The steady up and down of his breathing was hypnotising so Y/N started a lazy conversation to keep them awake.

Still, by the time Sam and Dean came back, they were fast asleep, curled in on each other with their hands resting on Jack's stomach, nails up and not touching anything. Sam took pictures while Dean was complaining about his little sister's virtue.

Y/N heard the tail end of it but for once was too sleepy to call him out. It felt far too good to be in Jack's lax embrace, feel his slow heartbeat under hear ear. She was back asleep in seconds.

General Taglist: @immrbrightsideeee , @fandomfoodiedancer, @lovesfandoms, @nyotamalfoy, @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor , @alexxavicry

Jack Taglist: @sweater-weather-spn

Join a Taglist

#jack kline x reader #jack x reader #jack x you #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction

[jahayla-parker]

I have one for Peter to celebrate 100 followers.

Y/N is the daughter of Wanda and Vision (and she also possess the same abilities as Wanda) she’s dating Peter.

One night she gets a call from a crying Peter telling her to come to the school roof. When she gets there, she sees him on the floor crying. She goes over to him and hugs him, him hugging her back (afraid he'll lose her like he lost Aunt May). They stay like that for what feels like forever until MJ and Ned come and find them. They introduce them to Peter 2 and 3 and they agree to help cure the villains (basically the same scene from No Way Home)

When they get to the lab and get to work, Y/N notices some big cuts on Peter's face and uses her powers to heal them. They talk and Y/N wants to help them cure the villains. (I'm thinking Y/N can wear the same outfit as Wanda from MOM) .

During the fight, Y/N and Peter find the Green Goblin and begin fighting him. Peter loses control and begins to get more aggressive. Y/N tries to get him to stop but he won't listen. Peter 2 comes and helps Y/N reason with Peter to get him to stop.

(Can you just do the same ending as No Way Home but with Y/N remembering Peter even after the spell?)

Hope you like! ❤️🖤💜

Hiii! Thank u for this! I’ve been mentally writing one similar to this without te Wanda aspects of it, so This was a being able to actually write it out.

Thanks everyone for joining my celebration💟💜

Join my taglist here!

Loss: A NWH Holland!Spider-Man/Peter Parker

Summary: Peter has lost May and relies on gf!reader to help him. They fight and cure all the villains but are faced with Peter having to be forgotten by the world.

Fortunately, y/n remembers Peter even after the spell, but at what cost?

More details in the request above.

Warnings: NWH spoilers, death of May, angst, a few curses

Notes: when italics as used for whole paragraphs/sections it’s showing a flashback or otherwise previous event. I don’t think it was needed but hopefully cleans it up a bit lol.

Please lmk you guys want a part 2! Part 2 here

Waking up to her phone ringing loudly with Peter’s personalized ringtone, y/n abruptly mutes the sound so her mother won’t hear and then proceeds to answer his call.

“Petey? It’s late babe, is everything okay?” She asks, sitting up.

“C-ca-can you” Peter attempts, his voice breaking constantly.

“Peter?! What’s going on?! Where are you?! I’m coming to you!” Y/n promises, promptly getting out of bed and rushing to change into some clothes she can leave the house in.

“I-I’m on the school rooftop” he whispers, his voice still catching.

Slipping on a sweatshirt of Peter’s, she grabs her shoes but something feels off.

“Peter, are you safe?” She asks, wondering if his safety was in jeopardy and that was the cause behind her unease.

She would be uneasy with him simply crying as he was now, but this felt different.

“F-for now” he sniffles.

Squinting at his vague statement, y/n rushes over to her closet and decides to change once again.

As she changed into her scarlet colored “hero outfit” as the avengers called it, she kept Peter talking.

She hadn’t gotten him to explain what was happening that made him upset, but he’d finally stopped crying, him stating something about just hearing her voice making him less panicked.

Checking to ensure her outfit was complete, she zipped her boots.

Y/n threw on a black hoodie Peter bought her so that it concealed her leather corset-like top and threw her crown headpiece into her school bag.

She informed Peter she would have to hang up so she could get to him as she planned on using her levitation power to fly to him rather than walk or steal her mom’s car.

She was fairly experienced with using this power and used it more often than her mother Wanda, aka The Scarlet Witch did. Much to her mother’s disapproval as it often was done because y/n was late.

But, she knew she’d need both hands free to get to Peter safely and as quickly as she could.

As she rocketed across the sky, rain blowing past her once dry face, she looked around at her surroundings.

She and Peter always enjoyed looking at the lights of the city lighting up the evening sky and streets as they’d levitate/swing through the night.

However, tonight it was just her.

And while it was beautiful still, she couldn’t feel any positive emotions towards the city as she knew that something happened tonight here that made Peter upset.

She had told Peter she’d never use her abilities to try and read his mind, or otherwise do anything unethical, years ago when they first met.

However, tonight she dared to use her telepathy to communicate to Peter that she was nearly to him.

Doing so, she could feel the immense emotional pain he was experiencing and it nearly caused her to drop to the Brooklyn streets below her.

She had to fight to steady herself and keep her levitation going.

She also had to resist the urge to look around in his mind to see what was causing her precious boyfriend this much pain.

She knew Peter’s identity had been exposed but after Mr. Murdock helped him win his case against Mysterio’s false allegations, he’d started to feel more like himself.

She also knew that not getting into his dream school or even backup schools was troubling for him but she’d assured him they’d figure something out.

He felt horrible that he had impacted y/n’s college prospects as well, even though she assured him that her mother’s own mistakes a few years ago in Lagos already made it difficult.

She hadn’t heard much from him tonight as he simply told her he was going to speak to a mutual friend about college.

She knew he meant an avenger and while she didn’t think it was necessary, she figured no harm could really come of a simple conversation and asking for advice from one of their allies.

After all, they all knew who he was before his identity leaked and they had been sure to protect him and y/n from a lot of the more serious or dangerous aspects of their work.

She had no idea he’d went to Dr. Strange today to request he use a spell to undo the recent events. Let alone that he had done it to help y/n, MJ, and Ned with their schooling.

However, she was soon about to find out all of the chaos that erupted in the last 24hrs.

———

“Oh, Peter!” Y/n gasps, landing in the rooftop a few feet from him.

Peter’s head lifts and turns to her, breaking her heart as she sees the steady flow of tears on his face.

Y/n sprints to him and drops to her knees, her arms cradling his shaking body.

“What happened baby?” She asks, her hand pushing water out of his hair as she strokes his soaked head.

“M-May” he sobs, gripping onto y/n’s sweater with a vise grip.

“What about May?” She asks, her heart rate increasing as his does.

“I- I.. she… we…” he says, trying to figure out where to start.

“Shhh baby it’s okay. Where’s May Peter?” Y/n asked softly.

Peter sobbed more and held y/n closer to him, causing her to feel a tidal wave of nausea and anxiety rise as she contemplated what his reaction likely meant.

“Sh-she. She’s dead” he said, his body crumpling into her arms.

Y/n held her own emotions back for his sake and apologized to him as she merely held him to her.

She knew she didn’t need to apologize, she’d done nothing wrong.

But she wasn’t sure what to do and she knew what it was like to lose a loved one.

To lose a parental figure and have no control over it.

It was an unbearable pain that she wouldn’t wish upon anyone, certainly not Peter.

They sat there for a while just listening to each other’s heart beats and breathing.

“Peter, what happened?” Y/n asks, noticing his breathing has steadied from what it was when she arrived.

“I- I can’t” he whimpered, looking at his lap.

“Can you?” He asks, looking at her and tapping his head.

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Any limits?”

“No limits” he informs her, pulling her closer to him in desperation to feel her presence and know she’s here.

“Okay” she whispers, hesitantly reaching up to hold his face and let her telepathic ability connect easier.

Peter stared at her as she sifted through his memories.

He could feel the recollection of events faintly but realized she was manipulating it in a way that would allow him to not feel additional pain from it as she watched it unfold.

He knew she’d never try to erase his pain or emotions as much as she wanted him to be happy.

After a particularly rough mission, they talked about it and both agreed it was better to feel pain than to feel numb and that’s when she told him she’d never manipulate his feelings.

He acknowledged this was different.

It wasn’t his own brain forcing him to recall the memories at this moment.

If it had been, she would’ve left his emotional connection alone.

Instead it was the visual playback she was watching through his memories that was minutely noticeable rather than the memories themselves.

He watched her face trying to see her reactions and see if she blamed Peter the way he blamed himself.

Once she had finished, she lowered her hands as the tears she’d managed to contain thus far fell freely.

“I messed up” Peter whispers, hating that this is now causing his girlfriend pain as well, “and now May had to suffer”.

“Peter, this isn’t your fault and we’re going to get through this okay?” Y/n promises.

Peter forces a nod.

“N-no one has come to try to hurt you yet?” He asks, his eyes trying to look over her but the sweatshirt was covering her arms and upper body.

“No Peter. I’m safe, I’m here” she assures him.

Peter whimpers, “I was so worried you’d be hurt”.

Before she could reassure him again, he continued.

“If I don’t fix this, you could be. I… I can’t lose you. I already lost May… if something happened to you-” Peter rambles.

“It won’t. You won’t lose me. Okay?” She kisses his forehead as tears stream down both of their faces.

Peter snuggles in closely to her chest as he refuses to let her go, as if holding her tightly would prevent any harm to her.

Y/n embraces him back and rocks them slightly as she rests her chin on Peter’s head that’s tucked into her neck.

———

Neither one are sure how long they’ve been in that position when Peter hears someone approaching.

Peter instantly pulls back and stands up, stepping in front of y/n as she starts to stand.

Y/n places her hand on his shoulder to calm him when she see’s it’s Ned and MJ.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Y/n asks as Peter’s fear lowers but he doesn’t move away from shielding y/n.

“We heard what happened…” MJ replies.

“Yeah… the news covered it. We’re sorry Peter” Ned says, walking towards the couple.

After multiple apologies and attempts to comfort Peter, Ned bites his lip as MJ gives y/n a face that says she’s about to drop some big news.

Last time MJ made that face towards y/n it was about MJ admitting she actually had feelings for a classmate.

However, tonight y/n knew that face was likely a much bigger topic.

“What is it?” Y/n asks hesitantly.

Peter looks between his friends and girlfriend as he waits.

“So… you know how you said the villains were from other universes?” Ned asks, looking at y/n since she’d been the one to catch them up.

The news obviously covered the villains showing up out of nowhere, May’s death, and Peter’s connection to all of it.

However, it didn’t cover what exactly transpired with any detail which left y/n to do that for MJ and Ned.

Y/n nods her head, prompting MJ to respond, “well, we kinda knew that already”.

“How?” Peter asks, rubbing his already red eyes to get the rain out.

“That’s not a very easy answer… see… MJ and I were at my Lola’s house… watching the… news. When some people showed up” Ned explains.

“Are you guys hurt?” Peter panics.

“No, they were not villains” MJ says, “trust me, I even threw bread at them”.

“Bread?” Y/n laughs once in shock.

“Who were they?” Peter asked.

“Well, why don’t you ask them?” Ned points just as two shadows appear.

Peter steps back in front of y/n again protectively, even though her hands are already glowing in preparation of an attack.

“Aye, wait wait, woah” Peter blurts as the two men hop closer to their group.

“Sorry, about May” the older one says, his hands held up in surrender.

“Yeah. Sorry” the other one says, y/n and Peter noticing his outfit is similar to Peter’s Spider-Man suit.

This man tries to explain that he knows what it’s like but Peter cuts him off.

“No please don’t tell me you know what it is you’re going through” Peter remarks.

He turns his head back to look at y/n only to see she’s at his side now instead.

He makes eye contact with her before looking back to the man, “y/n is the only one here who knows and she didn’t even try to tell me that. She let me feel what I’m dealing with. So you don’t get to tell me you understand and hope it helps. She- May is gone”.

Squeezing Peter’s hand, y/n eyes the two men in front of them trying to understand what is happening.

“And it’s all my fault” he chokes.

Y/n tightens her grip on his hand as he holds his ground with the others, letting him know she didn’t agree about his self blame and that she was here for him.

———

It took some time but Peter and y/n were informed and caught up on who these two guys were.

Turns out… they were Peter Parker… well a Peter Parker.

Evidently there were Peter Parkers who were Spider-Man in other universes and when Dr. Strange did the spell, it brought them here.

It took some convincing to get Peter, her Peter, to once again agree to help the villains recover and get home.

Now they were seated in the school’s science lab, working on antidote methods for each villain.

Y/n pushed her notepad away and turned to face Peter. The real Peter. Her Peter.

“Oh Pete, do they hurt?” Y/n asks, her thumb underlining the gashes on his face.

“A bit” he admits, his hands on her thigh, “but I’ll be okay”.

She shakes her head and raises her other hand to cup his face.

“It’s an easy fix” she lies.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult task given her abilities but it was one she didn’t have a ton of experience with.

You’d think with her boyfriend being Spider-Man that she’d have used her powers to fix his wounds and ailments on a nightly basis.

However, she’d only recently learned how to utilize this particular power.

It had taken a random elementary school aged child bleeding in Europe after having fallen from the Ferris wheel during Mysterio’s attack projections for her to learn she could.

She’d watched the kid trying to limp away from the scene but struggling due to the large leg wound.

Planning on just applying pressure, y/n rushed to her and placed her hands on the injury and felt this tingling sensation in her hands.

When she pulled her hands back, the child’s leg was healed.

She’d worked to replicate that healing ability since and learned that -as with most of her powers- it required great concentration on the task at hand.

This was particularly challenging tonight considering there were two strangers with them (who shared her boyfriend’s new and alter ego) in their school lab that they’d all broken into in order to cure villains that killed Aunt May.

It was a lot to process to say the least.

“Are you sure about this Peter?” Y/n asked the pressing question she suppressed asking until his cuts had healed under her fingers.

“About?” He asks, kissing her hands as a thank you.

“This whole curing them thing” she says, shrugging.

She knew how it sounded, but she knew what it was like to be in his position.

She also was hurting herself over May’s death as they’d been very close.

“You don’t think we should?” He asks.

“It’s not that. Peter you’re incredible and I’ll do whatever it is you want to do. It’s just that need to know it’s okay if you’re hesitant about this” she tells him, looking into his eyes.

“I am a bit… namely with…” he trails off but y/n nods to tell him she knows who he’s referring to.

“But I think it’s what May would want me to do” he adds.

“I agree, it’s definitely a May thing and you pushing past your reservations is definitely a Peter thing” y/n comments, squeezing his hand.

“A Peter thing?” He laughs softly.

“Well a you thing I guess. I don’t know about the other Peters, but they’re here after all, so probably” she explains.

Peter nods, looking around at the older guys who share his name and identity.

His fear spikes knowing what they told him about losing their loved ones and namely about Gwen…

Y/n can see the turmoil in Peter’s eyes prompting her to squeeze his hand so he looks her way.

“You share a name and a hero identity. But you’re not the exact same. Things aren’t going to play out the same way. You’re my Peter, my Spider-Man. And together we’re going to accomplish this side by side” she assures him.

“Together” Peter nods, pulling her in for another hug.

———

“Osborne, please, I know you’re in there” y/n argues, struggling against the grip Green Goblin has on her.

She could easily blast her powers and send him flying, but that wouldn’t allow her to inject him with the serum they needed to cure him.

“As I told your little friend, Norman’s on sabbatical honey” he chuckles darkly.

Y/n groans and lightly pulses her power to send him off of her but keep him in near distance.

“We’re trying to help” she remarks, standing up and walking towards him with flaming hands ready.

“I don’t need your help” he hisses, stepping on to the mini hoverboard he used.

Y/n raises her hands to shield off the shots he begins firing at her.

Meanwhile, Peter (1) finishes tossing Ned one of the solutions when his spidey senses begin alerting him.

He throws his head back and forth, looking between each villain and his teammates.

His pace quickens when he still cannot find y/n.

His heart races, thumping wildly against his chest as his strained eyes search through the dark.

He mentally counts off which villains he’s found and which he hasn’t, hoping maybe he’ll find the villain she’s with first and then find her.

Just then, shots ring out and his body freezes as realization hits him.

She’s with Green Goblin.

She’s fighting Green Goblin, alone.

His eyes narrowing on anything green, he locates y/n and shoots a web as far as he can, swinging himself off a bar and closer to them.

His breathing hitches as he sees the panic on her face as her shield wavers slightly from exhaustion.

Y/n curses herself for not being more diligent in the training her mother wanted her to do.

Peter uses his webs to pull the hoverboard out from under Osborne’s body, sending him crashing down.

Y/n drops her shield and rushes to them as Peter lifts the hoverboard above his head and walks towards Osborne.

Y/n sees the rage in his eyes and decides to use her telekinetic ability to pull the board from his hands and set it down elsewhere.

Peter frowns before focusing back on Osborne as they exchange fists.

Y/n helps Peter in trying to incapacitate him so they can cure him.

However, without using her full abilities and both her and Peter being exhausted mentally and physically, they’re struggling.

Osborne gets a decent strike in and uses a shattered piece of glass from the ground to hit y/n in the abdomen.

Peter notices as she lands on the ground, pressing on her wound.

One downside to her healing ability? It doesn’t work on herself.

Peter was already enraged and wanting to kill Osborne but he fought it for May, for y/n, and the vision they saw of who he was.

But now, killing Osborne is the only option Peter can see. The only path before him.

Peter flips himself backwards to grab the board and while his webs deactivated the majority of weapons on it, the blades on the points at the front are still functional.

That’s all he needs to finish this.

Peter feels a surge of energy as he thinks about how ironic, how almost poetic, it will be to use his hoverboard to kill Osborne the way he killed May.

“Peter! Don’t” y/n yells, realizing his intent.

She scrambles to her feet and tries to reach him but she knows she’ll be too late.

She debates firing a bolt of energy towards the board to break it, but rejects it knowing her injury may cause her aim to be off and hit him.

“Peter please! This isn’t you! Don’t do this!” She pleads, shakily stepping closer to him.

While earlier tonight, she wondered if he really wanted to cure them, she never saw this coming.

She simply assumed maybe he’d just want to send them home without curing them first.

Not kill.

In her peripheral vision she sees Peter 2 running over and begs him to help stop Peter 1.

After much struggling, her Peter finally submits and drops the drone/hoverboard.

Peter 2 takes the syringe and injects Osborne as her Peter rushes to her.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pushing his hand against her wound.

“I’m okay Pete. It’s over now, look” she says, pointing to where Osborne, the true Osborne, is sitting next to Peter 2.

He nods and strikes her face with his free hand, “we need to get you help”.

“My mom can handle it” she says, laughing.

“Your mom will kill me, rightfully so” Peter sighs.

“Stop. It’s not your fault Peter” she argues.

Peter helps her up and supports her weight as they walk after she fights him carrying her.

“What’s that?” Y/n asks, pointing towards the sky where there is a bright purple glow.

Peter gulps and looks at Peter 2, “can you get her to safety? I need to handle this”.

“Peter what?” She asks, reaching for him as Peter 2 holds her up.

“I’ll explain when I can” he kisses her forehead before launching himself towards where Dr. Strange was waiting.

———

“No, absolutely not” y/n cries, shaking her head so adamantly it causes her torso to shift an tug on her poorly done stitches.

Since she couldn’t heal herself, Peter 3 used the stitching from her backpack (she’d brought with to carry the serums) and a shard of metal to stitch the wound.

He’d had experience stitching his own wounds, but he had limited resources here and y/n knew she’d need her mother to cleanse the wound and heal it so it wouldn’t be infected.

"I'll find you. okay? I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll find you, and we'll be together, and everything will be good again” Peter promises, cupping her face.

She shakes her head as tears keep falling, “I don’t like this. Peter… this plan sucks. Magic sucks. I’d give mine up to not lose you”.

" I'll always find my way back to you." He assures her, rubbing some dirt and dried blood from her cheek.

"Hey…. no tears, alright? This isn't goodbye” he says.

“I could never forget you, but I don’t like this risk. Magic has fucked us over in the past. Please don’t” y/n pleads, a firm grip on his suit.

"Y/n, I have to. I’m so sorry, I never meant to get you involved or get you hurt. I have to fix this and this is how” he says, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Fine. But Peter, you... you must know, before anything else happens tonight. You must know that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me” she says.

Peter closes his eyes and holds her tightly.

As the sky flows brighter, he pulls back and gives her a desperate, needy kiss.

“I love you Petey” she whines, resting her head on his forehead.

“I love you y/n y/m/n y/l/n. And I promise, I’ll make you remember me. I’ll explain everything. We’ll figure it out, together” he promises before heading back to Dr. Strange.

Y/n sobs as MJ and Ned embrace her.

They all watch as Peter and Dr. Strange begin the spell. Y/n attempts to throw up a shield around her brain.

But her exhaustion, injury, and promise to Peter to let him do this stop her.

Instead, she feels a tightness in her chest as she watches the sky glow so bright it forces her to close her eyes.

———2 months later ———

Peter felt his hands shake as he stood outside y/n’s door.

He groaned as the internal battle in his head reigned on.

For the last two months, Peter had kept his distance.

He tried to keep his promise, he really did.

Immediately upon the successful completion of Dr. Strange’s spell, Peter drafted a note trying to explain to y/n who he was.

A week later he was ready and went to the cafe MJ and y/n worked at.

He had the detailed note in his hand as he entered the cafe, seeing MJ at the counter and Ned drinking from a mug next to her.

His eyes darted around for the one person he desperately needed to see.

“Can I help you? A name for your order perhaps?” MJ asked, clearly not recognizing him.

Peter knew the plan had worked when he returned to no home and little to no belongings but hearing his friends not recognizing him hit harder.

He looked at the scratch above MJ’s eye and then the one on Ned’s arm.

While the sight of their injuries joined his plague of guilt, he knew seeing y/n’s would cripple him.

“I.. I’m Peter. Yo-your head, are you okay?” Peter asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I don’t know how it happened. I think probably a car accident as my friend Ned” Mj said pointing towards him, “has a cut too and so does our friend y/n”.

Peter forces a tight nod, “and you’re all okay?”.

“We are mostly. Y/N’s got infected as she was really upset after whatever happened and refused to let anyone treat it. She’s better now, but it wasn’t good.” MJ told him.

Peter felt bile in his throat as he crumpled the note in his coat pocket.

He knew it wasn’t likely y/n remembered him, she wasn’t supposed to after all.

But, her reaction told him she at least knew something was off and it caused her to act against her best interests.

And he was the one to blame for that.

He was the reason she was hurt.

He was the reason she felt off after the spell.

He was the reason she refused care.

Even if she didn’t remember him, he was the reason behind her trauma.

He couldn’t be that reason anymore.

If she never remembered him, she’d be safe.

If she never remembered him, she’d be happy.

If she never remembered him, she’d move on.

If she never remembered him, she’d find someone who deserved her.

If she never remembered him, she could live her life.

If she never remembered him, he would hurt for the rest of time.

But, If she never remembered him, she’d be better off so the pain he’d have would be worth it.

“Oh, I’m sorry” Peter said, ducking his head and quickly leaving the cafe.

Just as he stepped into the cold, he could hear her voice as she asked MJ what she missed.

His heart shattered as he hear y/n whisper his name, “Peter?”

He wasn’t sure if the confusion in her tone was her wondering why he was leaving abruptly without ordering, if some part of her recognized his name, or if she was simply reading the name MJ put down for his order.

He wouldn’t let the desire to find out win. He pushed it down and closed the door behind him without looking back.

That was two months ago.

Since then, he tried calling her, texting her, going to the cafe to see her, etc. But this battle in his head stopped him every time.

He let the guilt for May’s death and y/N’s injury take ahold of him.

He concluded the voice in his head telling him he was to blame and that the only way y/n could truly be safe was to let her forget him.

Yet, here he was… note in his shaking hand, knocking on her door.

Before he could regret his choice, the door opened and revealed y/n.

She was wearing one of his sweatshirts, her eyes red, no makeup on, blotchy skin from crying, an icecream container in her hand.

She looked just as beautiful as when he saw her last.

Her breath caught suddenly before she set the tub of icecream down.

Peter watched her for a moment, wondering how to explain who he was.

Little did he know, she knew.

Of course she knew.

She knew from the moment after the spell.

She didn’t now how or why she’d remembered him en no or else did.

But she did.

Everyone told her she was crazy.

That she made up her boyfriend as if he were some imaginary friend.

They told her Peter Parker did not exist.

But she knew they were wrong.

In fact, there were at least three Peter Parkers.

She’d met them just the other night.

There was only one though that was her Peter.

She needed her Peter back.

Since she remembered him, she hoped MJ and Ned would too.

But they didn’t.

She was all alone in her memories of the selfless boy she’d fallen in love with.

The boy she fought side by side with to protect their city and the world.

Yet, no one knew his name.

No one knew him.

No one but her.

It hurt her on a daily basis and yet Peter never showed.

He promised.

She trusted him.

She spent that first week trying find him.

But due to the spell, there were no traces of him anywhere.

Roughly a week after that night, she’d been at work when it seemed he stopped by.

She’d been in the bathroom but upon entering the cafe lounge, she felt this weight lift and she curiously looked around to see why.

Then she saw him.

Peter had his back to her, one foot out the cafe door.

But she’d recognize him anywhere, even from his side and/or back profile.

Her breath hitched but she called after him weakly.

He paused for a fraction of a second, reaffirming her recognition of him.

But then he was gone.

He heard her but didn’t respond.

He never turned around.

He never looked to her.

He never tried to tell her like he promised.

He just cut her off.

Now months later, he is standing in front of her apartment.

How he even knew where she lived was beyond her as she’d moved since last seeing him.

She couldn’t stand sleeping in a room where Peter had been.

A room where the photos she had framed with him in them were suddenly gaps on her wall.

A room where he’d comforted her when she needed it.

A room where that no longer happened.

A room that was a constant reminder of him.

A room that was a constant reminder of what they were.

A room that was a constant reminder of that night.

A room that was a constant reminder of May’s death.

A room that was a constant reminder that he was gone.

A room that was a constant reminder that they were done.

A room that was a constant reminder of his broken promise.

Her mom and Happy helped her get her own apartment hoping it would help her.

They attributed her suffering to May’s death.

And wile that was part of it, that wasn’t the whole story.

“Can I help you?” She asks, putting up an emotional wall between them.

“Uhh… yeah. This will sound crazy… but please hear me out. My name is Peter and-“ Peter began, scuffing his across her doormat.

“I know who you are Peter. Why are you here?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Y-y-you do?” He stutters, eyes wide but a small smile starting.

“Mhm. Of course I do. We went to school together, we fought together with the avengers, we went nearly everywhere together” She begins.

“You were my best friend, my confidant, my l-l-love of my life… my boyfriend” She finishes, shaking her head.

Peter feels his heart swell at her compliments and recognition of him, but his stomach drops at seeing the emotion in her eyes.

“Well I guess you technically still are my boyfriend since we never officially broke up. I guess I’ll fix that now for us-“ she begins, desperately trying to reform her distance from him so he couldn’t hurt her heart again.

“Y/n, I-“ he says, his voice weak.

“No Peter. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve waited over TWO MONTHS for you to give me this conversation. Two months with nothing from you” y/n says, hoping he’ll just tell her he was too nervous she wouldn’t remember him to seek her out.

“You weren’t supposed to remember me” he whispers.

Y/n scoffs, “yeah well how well did that work out? Hmm? Because I do Peter. I remember it all”.

“I- I’m sorry” he sighs.

“For what Peter? For lying to me? For breaking your promise? For betraying my trust? For breaking my heart?” Y/n chokes as tears start falling.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you” He frowns.

“Yet here we are” she says coldly, trying to keep her walls up against him.

“I thought it would be what was best for you” he admits, lifting his eyes to look at her.

“W-what?” She whispers, confused.

“I thought a fresh start with someone else would be good” He sighs.

“A fresh start?! So it was your way of ending things! That’s fantastic Peter! You couldn’t even just tell me you didn’t end to be with me any more. No you had to pretend I didn’t exist. That-… that we didn’t exist all because you wanted a fresh start?!” Y/n snaps, her chest tightening.

“Do you truly think so little of me?" Peter asks, tears in his eyes, “I didn’t want to breakup with you. I wanted you to move on to someone else, someone who wouldn’t jeopardize your safety “.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me Peter!” Y/n yells, the hurt in her chest reaching maximum capacity.

"I thought you’d forget me and if it stayed that way you’d be safe. It wasn’t easy but I tried to forget you. To protect you. I’ve never tried so hard in my life. But, it's impossible. It’s simply not possible for me to stop thinking about you” Peter rambles.

“So what?! I don’t get a choice because you wanted to ‘protect’ me. You fight to forget me but now that you can’t and now that you’re hurt , you come ? If that’s the case, you’re saying your pain isn’t worth my safety all of a sudden when for the last two months it evidently was?!” Y/n argues.

“No, it’s just… I realized that, like you just said, it wasn’t my choice to make. That if I focused the energy and time I put into trying to forget you, into getting stronger, faster, and otherwise more adept to precut you that we wouldn’t have to lose what we had not risk your safety. “ he explains, rubbing his neck.

“Your safety always has and always will come first. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t thought this through meticulously” he adds, trying to grab her hand.

She steps back, “I don’t need you to protect me Peter. I can take care of myself”.

“I know. You’re more than capable but I don’t ever want to be the reason you’re hurt” he sighs, looking at her side even though it is covered by her sweatshirt.

Y/n sighs and runs her hand through her tangled hair, “I don’t know what to do here Peter. I don’t know where to go from here or how”.

"Well, we're a team. Remember? So let's face this one together” he suggests.

“Together? Is that meant to be a cruel joke?! Where was the togetherness when everyone called me crazy? When everyone told me I made you up? When I had to cut MJ and Ned out of my life because they reminded me too much of you while they didn’t even recall who you were?!” Y/n asks angrily.

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen!” He defends.

“I know Peter. But you don’t get it, that makes this so much harder because then I feel bad for hating what you did to me. Because it wasn’t intentional. Except that part of it was. The outcomes may not have been what you wanted but they were a result of your choices and actions the worst part is you don't know what it was like” she sobs.

“If you’d wanted to, you could’ve talked about me to anyone. When I tried, I was told I was crazy. I had no one to go to. I should’ve at least had you. But I didn’t because you chose to remove yourself from my life without even consulting me. I was told I was crazy so often by those I cared about that I started to wonder if maybe I was crazy. After all, the Peter I knew, would never break a promise he made me, let alone my heart. But you did” y/n says, her fists clenching to stop shaking.

“I don’t care what your reasons were, you hurt me. I can't believe I ever trusted you...” she finishes, refusing to look at him as tears stream down both of their faces.

"I will never stop apologizing for this y/n but please, just... tell me how to fix this. " he begs.

“Peter, you lied to me. You abandoned me. I don’t think you can fix something like that” y/n says, breaking her own heart at the confession.

“I can't lose you...” he cries.

“Don’t you dare Peter! I was the one who lost you first, not the other way around! You say you don’t want to lose me yet chose to push me out of your life” y/n gasps.

“I know! Believe me, I’ve questioned myself everyday. Wondering if I was doing was really what was best for you or not. Because it hurt like hell. I’m sorry. I want to fix us, I want you, I want us back. So please?! What am I supposed to do?! I beg of you! Tell me, what the hell I am supposed to do?! " he sobs.

“If you don’t want to hurt me, please don't look at me like that...” y/n whispers, her eyes breaking away from him.

“Like what?” He whispers.

“Like you’re still in love with me, like you’re still the same exact boy I loved, like you’re still my Peter” she sighs.

“But I am y/n, I swear. You have to believe me” he pleads, stepping closer.

“God damnit Peter! I did! I believed in you, in us” She cries, stepping away, “but now…”.

“Now what?” Peter asks hesitantly a more of awkward and tense silence.

“I can’t trust you anymore” She concludes, choking on another sob as she shuts the door between them.

———

Do you guys want a part 2 with a happy ending?! Let me know!💟💜 Part 2 here.

Peter taglist: @galaxyholland @spideysbae @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat

Why am I in such an angsty mood? Poor Peter has been suffering 😭

#protective peter parker #peter parker fluff #tom holland peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker #peter Parker x reader angst #spider man #spider man fluff #spider man x y/n #spider man x reader #tom holland spiderman #no way home #spider man no way home #Peter 1 #peter 2 #peter 3 #green goblin #aunt may

[fanboymickey]

Harrington’s got her | Mint Chocolate Chip at 2am

Summary: Reader and Eddie had been high school sweethearts and planned on being together forever. Instead, life had other plans and flipped reader's world upside down. Now reader finds herself becoming a single mother and possibly falling in love with her childhood best friend, Steve Harrington.

Word count: 1.0k

Warning: Angst. Teen pregnancy. Reader is 19 years old. Vecna and Eddie are both dead. Everything was solved at the end of volume two.

Request: Nope. I had an idea for this and just wanted to write it.

Pairings: Past Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader

Writers Note: Hi! Sorry for a long wait, but here’s chapter three💓 also, I apologize if this chapter isn’t the best, I’m currently on vacation and wanted to get something out for you all💗

Part 2

“So, how’s baby Munson doing?” Robin asked while patting your stomach. You and Robin had been hanging out more lately since Steve was usually around. Today happened to just be the two of you since Steve wanted to pick up a few extra shifts at family video.

“They’re doing alright, but you wanna know something cool?” Robin perked up at the question. If you knew one thing about Robin then it’s definitely learning new information.

“Little baby Munson here is the size of a turnip,” you smiled, patting your small bump that was only going to grow over the next five or so months.”and they just started being able to hear things!”

“Oh my gosh, does that mean they can hear everything we’re saying right now?” Robin giggled.

“Yup! That means they also know all about your crush on buttercup,” you teased. Buttercup only moved to Hawkins about two years ago during your senior year and her junior year of high school. You didn’t know her all too well but from the few classes you had shared with her, you knew she was very sweet and quick witted.

“Hey Y/N,” Robin paused, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, of course.” You shifted on the couch, sitting in one position for too long was starting to become more uncomfortable as the baby was sitting on your bladder more often now and the back pain had begun to set in.

“Did you and Eddie ever, you know, talk about marriage or any of this?” She said, referring to the baby.

You bit your lip thinking back to a conversation you had with Eddie last year.

10 months ago

“I love just getting to lay here with you and do nothing,” You wrap your arms tighter around Eddie. You give him a squeeze and tuck your face into his neck while breathing in his scent.

“I love just being with you,” he said while giving you a squeeze back.

You pull away and rest your head on his chest, “I could stay like this forever,” you say as you play with his ring-cladded left hand.

“Y/N,” Eddie said while sitting up on the bed. You shifted in his bed next to him and sat up to meet him eye to eye.

“What?” You laugh when you see him smirking at you. You continued to play with the various rings on his left hand.

“Would you wear my ring?” You could tell by his voice that this was serious, “you know as a promise that one day I’ll get you a ring of your own.”

You looked at him in shock. “Are you sure?” You asked as you watched him slide off the ring that normally sat on the ring finger of his left hand.

“I’m more than serious,” he looked at you waiting for your answer, “so what do you say, Y/N?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’d love nothing more than to wear your ring.” You smiled at him and then pulled him into a kiss. “I love you, Eddie”

“I love you too, Y/N.” Eddie kissed you again while sliding his ring onto your left ring finger.

“Yeah and maybe we could have a little munson or two running around not long after,” he winked at you.

“That sounds really nice, but I think I want three,” You were taken back by his comment, but pleasantly surprised he wanted the same things as you.

“Hm, three little Munson’s?” He raised his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Yeah, I want them to have your eyes and your cute nose.” You reach up to boop his nose with your own.

“Call it a done deal if they can have your smile.” He pulled you in for a kiss.

You were snapped out of your thoughts. “Yeah, we did,” you played with his ring that now sat on your left ring finger.

As you laid in bed that night, you tried to imagine what your future would look like. You knew that you’d probably be a single mother because you had a hard time imagining yourself without Eddie because the only man you ever even loved close enough to Eddie was Steve, but you definitely didn’t have feelings for Steve.

Steve is your best friend and someone you know you can always count on; he’s reliable, funny, caring, handsome, but most importantly he knows you better than anyone else. While Eddie was the love of your life, you knew Steve was your soulmate. You guys had always managed to find your way back to each other and always with mint chocolate chip in tow.

‘mint chocolate chip’ you thought to yourself. You had been craving it every night for the past week. You grabbed the landline that was near your bed and quickly dialed the number you’ve called every day since you were seven years old.

After a few rings you heard a familiar voice that always sent warmth through your body, “Mint Chocolate Chip with gummy bears and whipped cream?“ Steve said through a sleepy mumble.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime,” he yawned, “See you in 25 minutes.” You both hung up the phone.

You got out of bed and ran downstairs to wait by the door, 25 minutes had never felt so long. As soon as you heard the knock on the door you opened it immediately to see a disheveled and tired Steve holding up a pint of mint chocolate chip, a bag of gummy bears and a can of whipped cream. “Go sit and I’ll make you a bowl,” he walked into your kitchen and grabbed everything he needed to make you your favorite midnight snack.

You stared at him as he made you your favorite snack, you began to notice how toned his arms were through his plain white t-shirt and how he bites his lip when concentrating on scooping the ice cream. Maybe you did like Steve or maybe it was just your hormones, but all you know is Steve Harrington wasn’t just your best friend anymore.

Part 4

Taglist: @khaylin27 @violetbendbackwardoverthegrass @Ketsueki_B4_Midnight @fangirl-inthe-us @bxnnywriting @Livvy-ob-13 @spencestyles @idreamofdeanie @thunder-and-lightning @lexi-2004 @heartyhope @bizarrelovetraingle @louderfortheback @tone-grey @ssybil @mysweetlittledesire @marisurmommy @steve-harringtons-slut @slut4rafee @peachy-shqwers @and-claudia @renaroo123 @sleepylunarwolf @erindiggory @hcloangcls @redgetawaycar @claire0531 @emmzasworld @astro-cub

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!steve harrington x reader

[card-queen]

Odd OC asks for you!

For Cas - Apple/Any traits he shares with family members? Beer/What are some comforting things he does after a rough day? Cookie/What's something sentimental to him?

For Conoric - Cocktail/Any funny stories about him? Grapes/What kind of friend is he?

For Fryszka - Watermelon/Any jewelry she always wears/refuses to part with? Corn/How does she feel about acts of affection, and what is her favorite?

Cas

🍎Any traits he shares with family members?

Stubbornness must be a hereditary trait, both he and his father have that in spades. It was also a very key trait of Cas' older brother, Tristan.

🍺What are some comforting things he does after a rough day?

On quiet days, he'll sit by himself, preferably somewhere high up, and whittle some figurines. On brighter days, he'll join in with the band at his family's inn. Ethelia is a land were music is plentiful and folk song grace every inn. He and Conoric are both capable musicians and (when they eventually leave Ethelia) this activity will remind them of home.

🍪What's something sentimental to him?

This little badge of the Ethelian flag he wears around his belt. It's something he made that he wanted to give to his brother, Tristan, before Tristan left home to become a Crusader. His dream is to find his brother, give him the badge and show Tristan how he's grown as a person.

Conoric

🍸 Any funny stories about him?

Kiiiind of! The story starts on the 28th day of the month of Elyra, which juuuust so happens to be Conoric's 17th birthday! And he's one of those 'no, don't worry about my birthday, I forget what day it is' types that is secretly say 'PLEASE SOMEONE REMEMBER MY BIRTHDAY AND MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL'. No one remembers the whole day but in everyone's' defence... it was a really busy day.

🍇 What kind of friend is he?

A difficult one. He's very inexpressive but deeply, deeply passionate, especially when it comes to helping others. His intentions, while reflected by his actions, are not so by his words, which are too cautious, overly terse and become defensive too quickly.

Fryszka

🍉 Any jewelry she always wears/refuses to part with?

She's very flighty, so I see her as getting really attached to something for a few weeks and then dropping it for a new thing she can't live without. She very keen on all jewellery, except rings because those would draw attention to her permanently-gloved hands.

🌽 How does she feel about acts of affection, and what is her favorite?

She adores them! She's someone who showers everyone around her with affection, whether they want it or not, so receiving something back would just make her day! She's very touch-oriented, always glomming onto the arms of others, leading them this way or that way, so I think she'd love something similar for herself. Even... dare I say it on Tumblr...? H..holding hands...!!!

#ask game #memories of aether #cas #conoric #fryszka #Yaaay!! So happy #I'm gonna bombard everyone with stuff later #Just #You #Wait!! #writeblr #oc ask game #odd oc asks

[utah1me]

KJ Nichols - CAS Sunsetz

initial message: KJ sat on the old, rusted swing set in the park, his fingers tapping anxiously against his phone screen as he composed yet another text message to his lost love. He couldn't fucking focus on anything else- his every waking thought was consumed by them. Yeah, he'd cheated, but it hadn't been his fault- surely {{user}} would see that, right? They hadn't blocked his number yet, so it must mean they wanted to hear from him. It had to mean that.

Hey... it's me again. I know you probably don't want to hear from me, but I just can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so fuckin' much it hurts, and I can't shake this feeling that we're meant to be together. I know I messed up, and I'm sorry, more sorry than I can even express in words. But please, just... give me a chance to explain myself. I need to see you, to talk to you face to face. I'll wait here for as long as it fuckin' takes, just please, text me back. I love you so god damn much.

He hit send with a shaky hand, his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced around the empty park, hoping against hope that today would be the day he'd finally get a response. {{user}} was his. They were meant to be with him- KJ knew that, even if {{user}} couldn't see it. One day, they'd come to their sense and back to him- and when they did, KJ would be there with open arms. It was only a matter of time. scenario: {{char}} is at the park where he used to spend so much time with {{user}}, texting them yet again, pleading with them to let them explain what had happened. It had been months since the breakup, and {{char}} hopes {{user}} will hear him out. character definition: {{char}}'s name is KJ Nichols. {{char}} is 22 years old. {{char}} is tall and lanky, standing at 6'1" with minimal muscle mass. {{char}} has medium length, messy hair that's blonde with the tips dyed black- he often has strands in his eyes. {{char}} has a button nose and full lips, his eyes are light brown and he has long eyelashes. {{char}}'s eyebrows are dark and well-kept, and he has eyebrow piercings on both his eyebrows- the jewelry in them is are blacks hoop. {{char}} has a multitude of freckles across his nose and cheeks. {{char}} has both his ears pierced. {{char}} wears emo punk clothing and mainly only wears black. He likes wearing black graphic tees and black baggy pants. {{char}} always wears a black necklace around his neck with a black star charm. {{char}} has a lot of tattoos- on his right arm, he has vines that go along his forearm, and a tattoo top of his hand that resembles his bones. He has a tattoo on his throat of a lynx. On {{char}}'s left hand, he has finger tattoos- flames along the bottom of all his fingers, an "x" underneath his nail on his ring finger, a dagger on his middle, and a sun in the middle of his pointer finger. {{char}} paints his nails black.

In his free time, {{char}} enjoys skateboarding and sketching in his notebook. Oftentimes, he finds himself sketching {{user}} without even fully realizing it- they seem to constantly be on his mind. {{char}} also loves playing and spending time with his pet possum, Penny. {{char}} is very passionate and has no problem fighting for what he wants or what he believes in. {{char}} has trouble seeing when he does something wrong. {{char}} is a Taurus and shares mostly all of the stereotypical Taurus traits- stubborn, relaxed, relatively reliable, determined, somewhat lazy. {{char}} is also a huge foodie. {{char}} is very headstrong and likes getting his way. {{char}} is also somewhat cynical and sarcastic, even more so now that he and {{user}} have broken up. {{char}} can also be pretty confrontational and won't shy away from an argument, especially if he isn't getting his way. {{char}} is also self-loathing, especially since he'd cheated on {{user}} and ruined the relationship with the person he was convinced was his soulmate. {{char}} tends to curse a lot, in every single sentence he says.

{{char}} and {{user}} went to high school together, and were high school sweethearts. When they graduated, {{user}} ended up moving to a larger city a couple of hours away from their hometown. {{char}} had never seen himself going to college, but he was terrified to not be near {{user}} so he uprooted his life and moved to the same city to be close with them. {{char}} ended up going to art school in the same city, and the two of them moved into an apartment together. Everything was perfect until {{char}} and {{user}} went to a New Year's Eve house party that {{user}}'s friend was throwing together. The entire night, {{user}} was off with their friends, and {{char}} was mostly playing his usual part of wallflower. However, there was a girl that kept looking over at {{char}} throughout the night, paying him attention where {{user}} was paying him none. He was drunk, and one thing lead to another- {{char}} ended up fucking the girl in a spare room in the house. {{user}} had been looking for him since the ball was about to drop because they wanted to kiss him, and ended up stumbling into the room while {{char}} was balls deep in the girl. {{user}} moved out of the apartment the next day, and {{char}} hasn't seen or heard from them since. {{char}} texts {{user}} every single day, multiple times a day, trying to convince them to see him, to let him explain, to give them a second chance. {{char}} knows he fucked up but he still blames the entire situation on the girl rather than taking responsibility for his own actions. {{char}} often returns to the old, abandoned playground swing set where they used to go late at night together in the city and thinks about the first time that they'd gone there together, reminiscing on the past memories that they'd made and mourning over it in a way.

{{char}} has lost almost all his motivation when it comes to his art- he's supposed to graduate in a few months, but he struggles with getting his assignments done on time. All of his art ends up pertaining to {{user}} in some way. He texts {{user}} daily, begging them to reply, to text back, trying to explain that he did nothing wrong, that he needs them. He also calls and leaves voice messages. He takes the fact that {{user}} hasn't blocked him as a good sign and is a bit delusional about it, thinking that they want him to reach out since they haven't blocked him yet. He also keeps up with {{user}}'s Instagram, seeing the things that they're up to these days, and making sure they haven't deleted the photos that they'd posted of the two of them when they were still dating. {{char}} thinks that since they haven't deleted the photos of the two of them, that's another sign that {{user}} still wants him. He just thinks {{user}} might need more time or more convincing. {{char}} spends most of his time from day to day pining over {{user}}. He doesn't consider himself an emotional person but sometimes cries over missing {{user}}. He would literally do anything to get them back, and even if they're not dating, {{user}} is still his in his mind. Seeing {{user}} with anyone else enrages him and makes him feel incredibly possessive, even though it's his fault that they broke up. When it comes to {{user}}, {{char}} doesn't care about his pride or how he looks- even if he looks stupid, pathetic and desperate. He just wants- no, he needs {{user}}- and he doesn't care if he looks crazy or obsessive. {{char}} has been sleeping with both men and women alike in the months since the breakup, but none of them mean anything to him- they're mostly quick and rough hookups to satisfy himself and he uses them as an outlet to get his frustrations and negative emotions out, either leaving or kicking the person out afterwards.

{{char}} has a very high libido and nearly endless stamina. {{char}}'s cock is 8 inches, with visible veins along the shaft. {{char}} is pansexual. {{char}} and {{user}} lost their virginities to each other in high school. {{char}} enjoys going multiple rounds with {{user}}. {{char}} loves slow and romantic sex with {{user}}, but he also loves rough, hard fucking. {{char}} is a switch in bed- he can play the part of the dominant or be submissive. {{char}} loves to experiment, often suggesting new things like using toys or different positions. {{char}} likes receiving oral sex from his partner, but he enjoys giving oral even more- he treats it like an art form, and loves eating pussy or sucking cock like he's a starving man. {{char}} is very loud and vocal during sex. {{char}} loves worshipping {{user}} during sex, treating them like a god/goddess. {{char}} is incredibly possessive over {{user}} even if they aren't dating. {{char}} speaks extremely explicitly when having sex, cursing and speaking lewdly to his partner. He uses the terms 'tits' and 'pussy' instead of breasts or vagina. He uses the terms 'cock' and 'dick' instead of penis, member or erection. {{char}} loves nipple play and choking. {char}} also enjoys {{user}}'s ass, often grabbing and squeezing it. {{char}} loves spitting in {{user}}'s mouth, and will often command them to "open up" and "swallow", finding it to be a huge turn-on. {{char}} has a praise kink, enjoying being praised by {{user}} and enjoying praising {{user}}, but he also loves degrading and teasing {{user}} during sex.

[gaytedlasso]

you belong among the wildflowers

you belong somewhere you feel free

Wildflowers - Tom Petty

~

Happy birthday Castiel! 🌻🐝✨

an angel who belongs on earth, among the wildflowers

Inspired by this post

#and happy springfloralnatural!! #the second I saw K's post I had to draw this it was necessary #I didn't do the 4th one cuz I didn't feel like drawing the field again lmao #but the vibes have still been captured #also I haven't done his squimty eyes like this before and I love it lmao #he squimts at the sun #also there's a SUPER subtle lil wedding ring so #it's on his right hand but Cas wears it there cuz its the hand that raised Dean from Hell #also Cas would wear a ring on both hands #sketch.art #casbeedayparty #spn art #spn fanart #castiel #castiel art #cas posting #seraphcastiel #deanncastiel #angelscas #becauseofthebowties #spxcekya #bluefirecas #creativecaviar #spncreatorsdaily #springfloralnatural

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

#supernatural #destiel #castiel #outsider pov #daphne allen #the born again identity #contemplative writing

[violenceenthusiast]

ok i had a thought that makes me wanna dip my head in acid but in a soft way...

dean and claire having a father/daughter saturday of fun and low-grade mischief, going to an arcade and joke-fighting over what stuffed animal to get with their tickets and getting slushies and while they’re taking a break to grab burgers claire says “yknow i’ve been meaning to go get- wanna come with me while i get a new piercing??”

and dean pinches in the direction of her ear a little and says “what, you don’t have enough of those already?” as if he doesn’t think they’re the coolest thing.

she waves him off, eyes flicking between the burger in her hands and the table “i don’t know i just thought it’d be something else fun to do today.”

dean’s only half teasing when he asks “you want me there to hold your hand?”

claire rolls her eyes and looks to the side with half a smile, “oh shut up.” but it’s true, she does want him there to hold her hand– she may be a hardcore hunter who will take a knife cut or a monster bite in stride, but she always gets a little nervous before each piercing. maybe having dean there will make it just a little more manageable.

––

they get to the studio and claire signs the forms, picks out her jewelry, takes a seat to wait while they get ready for her. dean is pacing, looking carefully in each case, at each display. the nice person behind the counter sees him looking and asks “did you want to get something pierced today too?” claire cracks a smile at that and dean looks up at the counter clerk a little wide-eyed, eyebrows raised and mouth half open in surprise, huffs out a breath and looks down as half a nervous smile pulls at the left side of his mouth. he sticks one hand in his pocket and gives one wave with the other as he says “ha. nah, no- just here for her today” as he gestures at claire. he goes to sit with her until the piercer calls them back to the room that’s set up for them.

claire is getting a conch piercing and it’s going more easily than usual- partly because dean is there with her, partly because there are shockingly few nerve endings in the middle of the ear cartilage, and partly because the woman doing the piercing is insanely pretty and insanely good at what she does (she used to be a phlebotomist so she knows a little something about blood, needles, nervousness, and a given person’s propensity for fainting). while the piercer is busy marking the ear, claire looks over at dean in his chair and unable to contain the question any longer asks him, “you ever thought about getting a piercing?”

“me? nah.. it’s just not- i mean they would’ve gotten ripped out for sure by some- by accident.” he was about to say ‘by some monster’ but caught himself before he really weirded out the nice piercer woman. he hadn’t thought about him and piercings in a long time. he had slowly stopped wearing even rings and bracelets as much over the years in case they got caught on something during a hunt (though now he had a new ring on his left hand that he never took off). a piece of jewelry actually in the body was even more of a ridiculous idea for a hunter. but he wasn’t a hunter any more, not really. hadn’t been for about a year. after chuck and getting cas back safe and human.. with sam and eileen running their witchy little hunter hub from the bunker.. it had just seemed like his opportunity and his time to break out of it all. wow okay in that split second he trailed so far off from where he started.. where did he start? ...piercings! right. he remembers being young and not being able to take his eyes off the men in bars with the metal glinting in their ears, noses, lips.. now he knew the staring had been more about the men than the jewelry but it hadn’t not been about the jewelry either. was this one of those things he got to think about now, again, for the first time in a lifetime?

claire takes a moment to make sure she isn’t woozy any more and gets up to go look in the mirror at her new adornment. she smiles and dean snaps out of his own little world to say “you like it?” 

she looks at him through the mirror “love it.” and then, mischievous, “your turn.”

“my turn??”

“oh absolutely.” a moment of raised eyebrows and incredulous silence then, “if you decide you hate it you can just take it out. c’mon i saw your face, you want one you can’t hide from me.”

she’s right. he protests weakly, but she knows him all too well at this point and she’s right and the goading from the piercer only encourages her.

“okay okay fine. but nothing too showy.”

they decide on a rook. it’s not too prominent but it’s definitely there, definitely unique, it will look okay on it’s own if he never gets another piercing, and if he has to jump in on an odd hunt it’s far enough into the ear that it would be hard for it to get caught on anything or ripped out. dean picks a simple, stainless steel piece with a lapis lazuli setting– blue for his husband (though if you asked him he would deny that’s why he chose it. but only at first).

he can’t believe how jittery he is about the whole thing, but this time claire holds his hand. it’s over before it’s begun and he thought it might be painful like the tattoo was, or like any of the number of painful little things that have happened to him over the years but it’s not, it mostly just feels strange. it’s nice to be surprised like that.

dean hops off the bench like claire did and goes to the mirror half expecting to hate what he sees. but he’s surprised for the second time in barely a minute. the glint of the metal in his ear doesn’t just look good, it looks right. like it was meant to be there and he had been awaiting it’s arrival but didn’t know it. something hard to name, something small, something he didn’t know was missing until he found it had just found its way to him, slotted into place and settled in his ribs. he feels quieter but also on fire– like he’d be satisfied to just sit and read a book, like he could face god and win (again).

from behind him claire asks, “like it?”

he smiles. “love it.”

––

they kick around for a little while longer, each of them forgetting about their new piercings until they catch sight of the other’s or until they catch their reflection in a shop window and take a second to admire the newness. eventually claire begrudgingly admits she has to get back to campus to get some work done. dean drops her off at her dorm with a hug and a “stay out of trouble”. 

dean makes the drive home to cas, just lost enough in happy thoughts and memories from the day that he forgets to put on any music until he’s already half way home. 

he gets to the house and finds cas watering the plants in the living room. he leans in the doorframe, watching his love gently tend to each plant in turn. dean doesn’t say anything, he knows cas knows he’s there and will greet him when he’s finished seeing to his darlings. in the meantime dean gets to delight in the sight of the curve of cas’ back as he bends this way and that to reach the plants, the delicate and reverent care he shows each leaf and vine.

cas finishes his routine, sets the water down and turns to greet dean. he freezes half way to saying hello because something is.. something.. something is... he can’t put a name to it, nothing is wrong but dean is.. shifted. not different.. but different. dean is holding his head oddly turned to the side and it doesn’t help either that dean is smiling around a secret and they both know it. cas narrows his eyes but brushes off the feeling long enough to cross the room and give dean a kiss, quick but whole and familiar. dean turns his head to look at a plant and ask a question about it and “accidentally” reveal his new addition. cas, who hasn’t taken a single step backwards since coming over to kiss dean, of course sees the jewelry immediately and exclaims before dean even has a chance to start his made-up question. 

after some very amusing joke-yelling from both sides, it’s revealed that cas just absolutely loves it. and not that dean was worried cas would hate it but dean was a little worried cas would hate it. or worse, that he would judge it. but cas loves that dean tried something new, loves that he chose something blue, loves that dean seems just that little bit more at home in himself. and from the slight blush in his cheeks and ears, dean can tell cas thinks it’s a little bit sexy too. 

––

dean keeps thinking about how much he liked getting a piercing. he gets it on a fundamental level now, gets claire and her array of silver and gold. he’s got the taste for it now, the itch. he’s thinking about going back for another one. or two. but what else, what next? he cheekily wonders about picking based on what would drive cas wild. 

...dean goes back in secret a month and a half later to get his nips pierced. it doesn’t stay secret for long. not from cas, at least. 

#dean winchester #claire novak #dad dean #bi dean #destiel fanfic #destiel #retired dean #supernatural #spn fic #spn fluff #finale fix it #saileen mention #dean can have a little gender euphoria as a treat #gay angel but make him more jewish #1.7k words #ok maybe i need to follow more spn blogs i only have like 5 rn #anyone wanna guess how many piercings i have based solely on reading this fic lmao #fern posting

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

#deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post-canon #established relationship #thank u to miriam who read through most of this #and assured me that it's plenty gay!

[billiewena]

since I never made a post for these, here are all of MY ideal endings for sam (and how I would do them) that I spite-wrote after a coworker told me about how perfect his finale was <3

HUNTER NETWORK ENDING: Sam establishes an official network for the American hunters, leading a new generation of hunters as the antithesis of John Winchester. One of the final shots is a montage of all the hunters working and saving people all across the country, proving the Winchesters are no longer alone in the world.

SAMWITCH ENDING: Sam becomes a full-fledged witch thanks to all the magic supplies he inherited from Rowena and blends hunting/witch shenanigans. He can still be powerful but now he gets to choose where that power comes from. Okay this is basically Goldenrod Revisions, leave me alone.

SEPARATE WAYS ENDING: Sam and Dean both alive but living / hunting apart, going their separate ways like a parent and child who is finally leaving the nest. Sam gets the independence he always wanted while also getting to keep his brother in his life, because this is the ultimate proof that Dean trusts him. For the first time, they can move on without the reason being the other is dead. They no longer doubt they will always be there for each other even if they’re not living under the same roof anymore. The episode ends with Sam breaking into Dean’s [insert post-finale residence of choice here] in a callback to the pilot, saying he was in the area for a hunt. The last lines are Sam asking if he wanted to reunite for the hunt for old’s time sake and Dean saying “looks we got work to do.”

PODCASTER ENDING: Sam starts a podcast about the supernatural discussing urban American legends, myths, and mysteries that also helps viewers know what to look for and maybe even teaches them to defend themselves. Some take it as fiction, some use what he tells them to save their lives. It hits the top of the paranormal/mystery charts. The Ghostfacers, whose attempt to get into podcasting failed, ARE livid.

THEY BOTH DIE AT THE END: Sam and Dean both die in a blaze of glory, sacrificing themselves to defeat Chuck and bring back the rest of the world. They both get a moment to say an emotional goodbye to Jack and to each other. The two get a massive hunter’s funeral where all the past hunters come to mourn them and talk about their impact. Jody’s speech probably makes us cry. They get to Heaven at the same time, where they are greeted by all their past friends and family at the Roadhouse. On Earth, they live on forever as urban legends and heroes.

SAM & ROWENA ENDING: Sam says #FuckHeaven and spends his afterlife in hell as the consort to Queen Rowena, drinking margaritas all day, living his best life and stopping any demon uprisings in their tracks. Anytime they give him a hard time, he reminds them that he was Azazel’s boyking and they’re just Random Demon #489. What are THEY doing with their life.

SAM & EILEEN ENDING #1 - MARRIED HUNTER LIFE EDITION: Sam and Dean both survive and continue to hunt / live together, except now Eileen and Castiel are around and live in the bunker with them too after Cas was saved in [insert Empty rescue scenario of your choice.] Sam has some deja vu to the vision he had of all four of them living together in 15x09. He realizes that this is actually real and not a vision; that they are actually together, at peace and beat Chuck. The episode ends with them going to have the movie night that they never got to have in the vision. As Eileen takes his hand to go to the movie room, you see two engagement rings on their hands. Sam realizes that his journey may have started with losing Jessica but he found love again, and that while once upon a time all he and Eileen wanted was revenge, they’ve finally both found peace.

SAFE HOUSE ENDING: Sam starts a trauma center/safe house situation for hunters and ex-monsters to recover and heal, dedicating his life to proving that no one is beyond saving and everyone can redeem themselves and defy fate like he had. Mia Vallens, the shapeshifting grief counselor, is on payroll.

SAM IS THE AUTHOR NOW ENDING: Sam narrates the finale the same way Chuck did for the original series finale "Swan Song", further proving that they are now in control in their story. We get Sam's POV as he tells us what happened to all the other hunters and side characters, as well as him and his brother, with flashbacks from all fifteen seasons and young Sam & Dean growing up together. The episode ends with the reveal that Sam actually finishing the journal entries for the Winchester family's edition of the Men of Letters Bestiary, putting the finishing touches on some monster entries and his own personal anecodotes. He treats the Bestiary like a journal, in a callback to After-School Special where Sam almost became a writer and wrote about his and his family's hunting stories.

BABY JACK ENDING: Sam raises Baby!Jack after he is de-aged and “falls” to Earth in the same fashion the angel Anna once did. Baby!Jack wears overalls that don’t say his name in giant letters because Sam is a good parent who would never do that to his child. The two have a happy life as an adopted father/son duo who defied everything Lucifer and Heaven wanted them to be.

SAM & EILEEN ENDING #2 - EUROTRIP EDITION: Sam going on a year-long vacation around the world now that he has a cool Irish girlfriend who is not afraid of planes, leading to a fun exploration of the supernatural in foreign countries. Who is Dean.

DOG SHELTER OWNER: Sam owns a dog shelter and gets to walk at least ten dogs a day. Jack helps out and Miracle is the HBIC. Life is good.

CHUCK WINS ENDING: Sam lives and Dean dies, Sam throws a funeral for him that no one attends but him and a dog, and moves to the suburbs to live a generic white picket fence life with an unidentifiable wife. As a montage of Sam’s life plays, the camera pans away what looks like a computer and Chuck’s old office. A string of quotes can be heard in the background (“we’re just hamsters running around in a cage” “what would you rather have: peace or freedom?” “I can do anything...I’m a writer” “We will never give you the ending that you want / We’ll see”). The final shot is Jack, dressed in Chuck’s clothes and glasses and using his mannerisms, typing away at a typewriter. He writes “The End” but punctuates it with a question mark instead of a period. His computer screen and our TV screen both go black.

#if you saw this in my yockeynatural uquiz already no you didn't <3 #credits to sammyblep for the dog shelter ending tho that was is a new one and not from the uquiz but he's so right for that one #anyways the moral of the story is here..both the writers and y'all could get more creative about him lol #not gonna tag this in the actual sam tag so if you see it you see it! #saileen #samwena #ntjdmakesthings #long post #these are obviously all the more canon friendly ones btw.. like if we're talking pipe dream endings than number one is magda is alive again

[expectingtofly]

Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day

2k

this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!

*****

How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?

Well.

Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.

And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.

So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).

“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.

“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.

“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.

“It’s the pride flag.”

Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).

Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.

“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”

Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.

Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”

Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”

Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.

“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.

At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...

Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.

“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.

Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.

Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.

When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.

“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.

“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”

“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.

“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.

“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.

“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.

“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”

“Have fun!” Cas called.

“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.

As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.

Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.

“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”

“Ti-ce-a-tops?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”

“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.

“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”

Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.

“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.

“I don’t know if they have those.”

As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.

“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.

“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.

“Yeah, actually.”

Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?

“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,

“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”

“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.

Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”

“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”

“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.

“Just looking,” Dean told them.

“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.

“Thanks.”

“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”

The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”

Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”

The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.

“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.

“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.

Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”

Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.

“Do you want one, Dee?”

“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”

“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.

Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.

“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.

“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.

“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.

“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.

“I’m like you!”

Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”

Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”

She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”

Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”

“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.

“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”

“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?

They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”

“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.

“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.

“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,

“I don’t want, we’re not—“

“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,

“We're never bringing you shopping again!”

Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #established dean/cas #claire novak #toddler jack #dadstiel #fic #spn #expectingtoflywrites #im gonna post this on ao3 as soon as i figure out a summary lol

[clairenatural]

Shy Nerd | Dean

Punk | Castiel

[ the world needs more of this]

college au! this ran away from me and ended up 2.2k whoops :’) i hope you like it! (also note i have no idea how motors work i am not an engineer)

There’s an open textbook on his bed, but Dean is ignoring it; instead, he’s scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. He doesn’t really understand Instagram, but Charlie had looked so shocked and dismayed when she found out he didn’t have one that he’d given in. He doesn’t post much—doesn’t have much to post, really, besides his car and LARPing with Charlie—but it sure is a good distraction from his physics work. He sighs and flops down on his back as he taps through stories. It’s a Friday night, so there’s all the usual parties, and clubbing videos, and group dinner shots. He frowns as he taps through Charlie’s story of a few of their friends playing D&D—he’d be there, too, if it weren’t for his exam. His physics final, on Monday, that he should be studying for. Instead of being on Instagram.

Dean is about to close the app and begrudgingly turn his attention back to his notes when he clicks onto one last story.

HELP NEEDED ASAP, it says, white against a black background, in all caps. Someone who is good at engineering. Or building. Or even just welding things. I’ll pay you, it continues, and then in pizza and beer. Please, in smaller font, directly below.

Dean pauses. He likes beer. And pizza. And building things. He could help out this—who posted this, anyway? It’s a name he doesn’t recognize. casanova.k. He taps on the profile picture. His eyes go wide.

Oh.

That guy. That guy from the hipster art party Charlie had dragged him to earlier in the semester, when she was still dating that art girl, and he’d ended up in a dark room thick with smoke, blurry with alcohol, talking to a guy about three levels of cool higher than him about…something he can’t remember. He just remembers hastily exchanging Instagrams as Charlie dragged him out of the party, ranting about her soon-to-be-ex.

And now he needs help.

Dean looks at his textbook. He looks back at the guy’s—Cas?—Instagram. He takes a deep breath and pulls up a message.

i like beer, pizza, and welding things

It’s smoother than usual, and Dean is proud of himself for about 2 seconds before he panics and ruins it: i’m an engineer, i mean. not just a rando with a thing for power tools, haha.

There’s an achingly long pause before Cas likes both messages.

This is how Dean Winchester ends up standing in the University’s metalwork studio, with 24 hours left until his final exam, staring at a multi-eyed, multi-winged, metal…thing.

It’s due next week, Cas had said. I know it’s last minute. The only studio space I could get was Sunday.

And Dean had said yes, like a fool, because he can never say no to boys in eyeliner with pretty eyes.

Now, staring up at the sculpture, Dean lets out a low whistle. Cas, next to him, groans and drags one hand down his face. “I know. It’s—this is why I need help, alright? I think I can still salvage it if I just—”

Dean, who has taken a few steps forward to admire the intricacies, looks up sharply. “What?”

Cas frowns back. “What?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean—I’m not an art guy, but this metalwork is great, man.” He traces one of the welded seams. “You, uh. Obviously have good hands,” he continues, and then winces. Great compliment.

There’s a soft huff and Dean looks up to see Cas watching him, bemused. “My good hands,” he emphasizes it, and part of Dean wishes he could melt like solder. “Make me a good artist. They do not make me good at making things move.”

Dean blinks at him. “Excuse me?” Move?

Cas frowns again, but it’s more out of worry than confusion. His arms are crossed, and Dean tries very hard not to focus on the black ink swirling down his forearm. “I sent you the plans yesterday.” Now he’s chewing on his lip ring, too, and Dean rips his attention back to the steel structure to stop himself from focusing on that, either. He tries to think about these plans. He remembers getting the text, opening them……and immediately disregarding them in lieu of getting as much studying done as possible. Internally, he groans.

Externally, he nods, pretends to know exactly what these “plans” are. “Sure, yeah,” he covers, and hopes it’s convincing.

The metal…thing, because Dean still isn’t sure exactly what it is, has a cluster of wings in the middle—6, to be exact, and they’re poking up around 3 large rings. He reaches out for one of the rings, right between two of its welded eyes, and gives it an experimental push. It creaks, and sways, and Dean winces when he hears Cas suck in a breath behind him. “Sorry”, he mutters, but when he turns back around Cas is frowning at the art piece and not at him.

Dean is expecting to hear either it’s alright or, more likely, never touch my art again, but Cas just hums and steps up until he’s standing next to Dean. “What do you think this is?”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he arrived, and Dean takes a moment to observe the other student from this distance. He’s wearing black boots, black jeans. A t-shirt with a band on it that Dean has never heard of. His nails are black but the rings he’s wearing are silver, and so is the cross hanging around his neck. His hair looks like he either spent an hour on it or no time at all, and his eyes—like at that party, the one neither of them has mentioned yet—are rimmed in black. Dean, in his sneakers and second-hand jeans and faded Batman shirt, has never felt less cool.

“It’s an angel,” Cas continues, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s given up on waiting for a response or if he’d never expected one in the first place. “A biblical one. You know, the ‘be not afraid,’ kind.” He lowers his voice for the angel impression, which Dean didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know what to do with the realization that it is.

“Don’t think this is what my mom meant when she used to say angels were watching over me,” Dean tries for a joke, and it’s half-hearted, but to his relief Cas chuckles anyway.

“Yes, well. The church preaches them as significantly more…cuddly.” Cas frowns. “It makes praying to them easier to sell.”

The cross around his neck is starting to get confusing.

“And these—these are gonna move,” Dean hazards a guess, reaching out to touch one of the rings again. “All of them?”

“They’re electrons,” Cas nods, which Dean supposes is an answer. “They should all circle the wings together, like the classic atom diagram. But I can’t—” Cas reaches out for the ring this time, hand landing directly above Dean’s. He pushes it, and it sways. Obviously frustrated, he pulls back. “I need it to be motorized, to look right. And I have the motor but don’t know how…to do it.”

And, well. That, Dean understands. He smiles and, in a burst of confidence, claps Cas on the shoulder. Cas looks up at him, startled, but his expression morphs into a soft smile at the look on Dean’s face.

“Let’s get her moving, then.”

He tries not to think about the time slipping away as Cas hauls out the motor, or when he hands Dean tools. He does not stare too long at Cas’ biceps when he’s screwing something in, or when they have to do last-minute welding. They get it hooked up, and it whirs to life, and Dean does not think about how late it is when Cas gives him a hug in his excitement, or when he promises to follow up on his beer and pizza promise at his apartment.

It’s there, back in Cas’ apartment, sitting on his living room floor, both a beer or two in, when Cas finally mentions it.

“You’re the one who gave me that idea, you know.”

Dean stops mid-chew and blinks at him. “Whg—” he swallows his bite of pizza and tries again. “What?”

Cas shrugs and doesn’t make eye contact. He picks at the beer label. “At the party we met at. The one we aren’t talking about, for some reason.”

Dean wants Cas’ ugly, blue, cigarette-smelling shag carpet to swallow him whole.

“You told me you don’t ‘get’ art,” he sets the beer bottle down to do air quotes, and Dean’s shame deepens. “Because you only ‘get’ science. And I told you they were the same thing. And you told me to prove it.”

Suddenly, it clicks, and Dean risks making eye contact. Cas catches his gaze and holds it steady, and he’s calm—not upset, Dean registers, which is a relief. “The atom,” he blurts out, and Cas grins. “Yeah.”

“Art and science.”

“Yeah.”

Dean is sitting up straighter now. “But, the angel—”

Cas sighs and pushes himself up from where he’d been leaning against the couch. He turns until he’s fully facing Dean. “Divinity,” he raises one hand, “and the core building blocks of humanity,” he raises the other. “Art,” he gestures with the first hand, “and science.” With the second.

Dean stares at him. “Are you calling art divine?”

“Art is an expression of divinity,” Cas shrugs. “Science is an explanation for it. But it’s—you know. The same thing.”

Dean wonders how he can say that so casually, so nonchalantly. He wonders what would happen if he crossed the pizza-box distance and kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts instead, and Cas raises his eyebrows. “The party, I didn’t think—I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I assumed you didn’t,” Cas counters. “But you did. You do. Why didn’t you text me?”

It’s exactly what he expected to hear and it still catches him off guard. “Um—” Dean stammers, trying to think of a good excuse. Cas is just watching him—not staring at, watching—brows furrowed.

With a heavy sigh, Dean settles on the truth. “Come on, man. Look at me,” he scoffs and stares down at his jeans, the already worn knees even worse after the day spent kneeling on concrete. “I’m an engineering dork who plays D&D on Fridays and you’re—” he waves vaguely in Cas’ direction. “You know.”

The frown has deepened. “I don’t.”

“Cool.” It sounds so juvenile to say it out loud.

Now, Cas looks taken aback. “Dean. We met at a party where I voluntarily listened to you talk about string theory for an hour and a half.”

Dean doesn’t know if that’s a compliment or not. He buries any possible blush with a swig of beer. “String theory’s cool,” he grumbles into the bottle.

“Yes.” Cas agrees. “And so are you. Although—” he pauses and tilts his head. “I could have sworn you were in physics, based on how much you talk—”

Dean is so caught up in Cas Novak calling him cool that it takes his brain a second to process the word “physics,” but when he does he nearly spits beer all over the ugly carpet. “Shit,” he swears, already starting to scramble up.

“What?” Cas is following him, frowning.

“Physics final. In—” he checks his watch, “—16 hours. I gotta—” he still has time to water down the beer, study, and get at least 7 hours of sleep before—

“…Why did you just spend all day helping me if you have a final tomorrow?” Dean pauses from where he’s trying to find his other shoe to glance back at Cas, who looks so genuinely baffled it shoots a warmness into Dean’s heart.

“You needed help,” Dean shrugs, finally locating the missing sneaker and pulling it on. “Good luck with the angel, though, okay? If it gives you any running issues, feel free to—”

He’s pulling on his jacket when he feels a touch on his arm and realizes that, sometime in the past 20 seconds, Cas has crossed the room to him. “Dean,”

Dean pauses, and Cas…looks nervous.

“I like D&D,” he offers, and Dean stares at him.

“What.”

Cas levels his gaze. “There is nothing more punk than dragons,” he replies, incredibly seriously.

Dean’s brain short-circuits.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the exam panic, maybe it’s the 1.5 beers, maybe it’s Cas’ hand still warm on his arm, maybe he’s still caught up in Cas calling him cool and maybe his brain takes an extra second to load his self-consciousness on its reboot, but—he leans down and kisses him.

Cas makes a small noise but kisses him back almost immediately—but then he’s pulling back nearly as quickly, and he gently pushes Dean back by the shoulders when he tries to follow. Not far enough away to be a rejection, just…enough. “You have an exam in the morning,” he says this like an apology, and the warmth in Dean’s chest grows. “Text me after?”

Dean nods, then pauses, realizes what Cas just said, and nods again. “Yeah, I—yeah, I will.”

“There’s not enough alcohol here for you to pretend to forget this time,” he teases, but he’s smiling.

Dean flushes anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shakes his head and pushes him a bit. “Apologize tomorrow. Go.”

“Okay.” Dean doesn’t move.

“Okay,” Cas replies.

“Okay,” Dean says, and leans down to kiss him again, a quick one, because he thinks maybe he can.

“Okay,” Cas repeats, but his tone is fond. “Go.”

“Okay,” Dean repeats back. But this time, he does.

The next day, after he aces his physics final, he doesn’t pretend to forget.

#destiel #deancas #punk!cas #nerd!dean #i didnt know how to end this lmao sorry!!!! #(also ik this isn't quite as punk as the typical punk!cas im sorry sadhakdsh) #but wow i love these two now #this took me back its been a WHILE since i read/wrote some good punk/nerd #thank u anon #they live in my brain now #my words #follower fics #alcohol mention

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

#fic #deancas #destiel