#happy birthday to cas and me :) honored to share the day with him today

[chrrispine]

for castiel's bee day party

On the Head of a Pin (4x16)

#happy birthday to cas and me :) honored to share the day with him today #casbeedayparty #spnedit #cowboycoven #userdorksinlove #donestiel #userstarry #tuserpris #tuseralaina #bluefirecas #bebecas #agentplant #userbon #tusermika #userstar #tuserdi #userashleigh #userleah #userrobin #*alison

[baldramuste]

Birthday Twins!

@secretforestlady​ (submission)

Deirdre doesn't find out until it's too late to procure a suitable gift that Sigurd shares his birthday with her. It is such a strange coincidence considering how important they had been to each other in their pasts. Even without a proper gift, she must do something for him so she heads to the greenhouse to gather flowers.

She knows Arvis prefers red spider flowers and she often picks them for his classroom or their quarters. But she doesn't know what Sigurd likes. She's sure she must have at some point but that knowledge is gone, perhaps still sealed away. At first she considers roses. Bright yellow would stand out against the blue of his hair. Then she spies forget-me-nots and is immediately drawn toward them. There is something about them that convinces her they are perfect for Sigurd. 

Deirdre is just about finished weaving the blue blossoms together into a crown when its intended recipient enters through the door and smiles down at her. She quickly stands and greets him before offering her gift. "Happy birthday, Lord Sigurd! I made this for you." It isn't until he ducks his head and she's about to place the flower crown on his head that she remembers why these particular flowers are significant. Her cheeks flush as she recalls the forget-me-not crown she wore herself at their wedding.

Her heart pounds in her chest. They're so close now. Deirdre's hands slide down from the crown to rest on his cheeks. His eyes sparkle as they gaze into hers. She wonders how his lips might feel if they pressed against hers or if she'd be able to feel the warmth of his hands through her uniform blouse. It would be so easy if she just stepped...closer...

it was the most important day of the year for him, deirdre’s birthday. for the past few years he’d spent this day in misery, wondering when he’d ever be able to celebrate it with her again. if he’d ever be able to celebrate it with her again. now she was alive and here in the monastery, and while it was not the perfect scenario he still knew she was alive. that was all that mattered.

he could give her back her wedding ring for her birthday, even if he was reluctant to let go of it. he’d gazed at their rings on his necklace almost every lonely night in bed back in the day, and they had been something that kept his will to see her again afloat up until now. still, deirdre deserved to have it, even if she didn’t have the same feelings for him anymore.

somehow he knew exactly where he would find her. he takes a deep breath and pushes open the greenhouse doors. the sight of deirdre in the greenhouse holding a flower crown made out of forget-me-nots makes him remember their wedding day, and it also makes him briefly wonder who it was for. he approaches her, afraid that she might answer they’re for arvis; or even that arvis had given them to her, but his expectations do not come to fruition. no.

it’s for sigurd. she’s wishing him a happy birthday.

“oh– you… you remembered?” sigurd feels his heart stutter at the thought. he hadn’t even thought of his birthday all day today, had only been focused on deirdre’s which coincidentally landed on the same day as him (as it always has). he’s unable to hold back a smile; it was almost like the old days. “i’m so happy, thank you deirdre.” he chuckles, holding back the happy sob that wants to escape his throat. who knew something so simple could do so much for him?

“well then, i think i’ll let you do the honor?” he jokes, dipping his head down to her level so she can place it on him. he feels the foliage of the flower crown rest atop his head, and almost solemnly waits for her to pull her hands away, to return to the uncomfortable distance between the two. her hands trail down his hair and settle atop his cheeks. sigurd’s head raises just a little to meet her eyes, surprised by her actions.

his breath catches in his throat and he doesn’t dare move as he gazes back at her, afraid to ruin the moment between them. if he squints, he can see desire in her eyes; or maybe he’s just fooling himself into thinking that. he doesn’t know what to say that won’t cause him to scare her, so he stays silent, waiting, expecting her to move on.

#{ ic. } #{ birthday 2021. } #{ deirdre thread 06. } #{ ITS 12 AM WHERE I AM ITS SIGURD BIRTHDAY TIME } #{ HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE WITH THE SAME BIRTHDAY }

[ticklishraspberries]

42 (Dean/Cas)

Summary: The morning of Dean’s 42nd birthday is full of laughter. (Happy birthday Dean Winchester!!! I actually baked a real cake today in his honor, even though my family thought I was crazy. This fic is sort of a fix-it, the ending was bullshit kinda thing, so Sam/Eileen are endgame, and Jack is a child again! I hope y’all enjoy the fic!)

On the morning of his forty-second birthday, Dean Winchester wakes up to soft kisses being pressed to the smattering of freckles on his shoulders, and he lets out a content, yet sleepy grumble.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he says.

“Happy birthday,” Cas replies, the words muffled as his lips are still pressed to Dean’s skin.

Rolling onto his back, Dean puts a hand on his partner’s cheek and pulls him down for a kiss.

Birthdays were never something that Dean experienced as a child. After his fourth birthday, he was lucky if his father even remembered it. His seventeenth birthday was the only one that stuck out from the past, and it was a bitter, painful memory.

Of course, Sam remembered his birthday, but they were usually too caught up in the apocalypse or some other insane shit to really celebrate.

But now, Dean doesn’t live from motel to motel, prepared to die bloody on the next hunt. Now, he goes to sleep in a warm bed beside the love of his life, after he puts Jack to bed, of course, and when he wakes up, he cooks breakfast and drops Jack off at school, and spends his day working on cars and FaceTiming with Eileen and Sam (he’s picked up on quite a bit of ASL because of them, and seeing Eileen light up with joy when Dean masters a new word fills his chest with warmth.)

Of course, Sammy is still doing the job, just less often now. Him and Eileen make a fantastic team, and they’re planning to get married next spring.

And, Dean and Cas are...Well, they’re Dean and Cas, just now they aren’t afraid to put a name to the bond they share. Ever since they got Cas back from the Empty, things have been good.

“I made pancakes,” Cas says. “Jack wanted to bring them to you in bed, but I thought you might like to sleep in.”

A smile curls on Dean’s face. “You’re the best.”

“We should probably go out there before he bursts in with the card he made you.”

His heart nearly bursts at the mention of Jack making him a card, but his mind is still foggy with sleep, and he wraps his arms around Cas and hugs him close. “Five more minutes.”

“You’ve had enough beauty sleep, birthday boy,” Cas argues, but still snuggles closer anyway.

“I’m an old man now, babe, I gotta get my eight hours in.”

“It’s been more like ten.”

Dean just grumbles in response, and he’s ready to start dozing off again when he feels fingers pressing into his ribs, and stiffens.

“Cas, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he replies innocently.

With a huff, Dean tries to push his hands away, but he’s effectively made his limbs quite useless by pulling Cas on top of him. “It’s my birthday, you’re not allowed to be mean to me.”

“How am I being mean?” Cas asks. “I’m just trying to get the festivities started on your special day. The longer you sleep, the less time we have to celebrate.”

“That’s such bullsh—Ah!” His half-hearted protest is cut short with a bark of laughter when Cas starts tickling him, not even half as cruel as he could be, but it still tickles like hell, and Dean is a squirming mess in seconds.

“Cas!” he whines, chuckles building in his chest as quick fingers move up and down his ribcage, playing his sensitive spots like piano keys.

“Jack and I worked hard on those pancakes, Dean. It’s very rude of you to sleep through your own birthday breakfast,” Cas replies, but Dean can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get up!” he exclaims, and Cas lets up quickly, pressing an apologetic kiss to his jaw.

They lay there for a moment as Dean catches his breath, before Cas rolls out of bed and looks at Dean expectantly.

Dean groans. “Alright, alright, I’m comin’.”

The pancakes are really good, and the card Jack made him makes a few tears come to Dean’s eyes, although he blinks them back in favor of pulling the kid into a giant hug, picking him up off the floor and swinging him around, making Jack giggle manically.

This is how birthdays are supposed to be, Dean thinks. Full of love and light and laughter. And after all these years, he has exactly that.

#destiel #deancas #dean x cas #cas x dean #deancas fic #destiel fic #spn fic #spn ticklefic #tickle fic #ticklefic #supernatural

[67midnightwriter]

Bygone: Teach Me

A/N: This was originally intended for @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for her birthday before the world exploded. It was intended to be a quick one shot, but as I was writing I fell in love with Dean, Leia, and Cas’ relationship, so this will end up being a snapshot series. It won’t be written in order, but eventually it will all be written lol. Thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ for the deep beta!

Dean x OFC x Cas no destiel

Warning: feels and squirting

Smut

W/C: 4,269

There are many things Dean Winchester is good at: drawing out both pleasure and pain, locating both good drink and good food no matter where you plop him down, shrugging off compliments he’ll never believe he really deserves, and battling demons, of both the metaphorical and physical varieties. These are the things he (mostly) prides himself on, the base stones with which he builds the foundation of his character. Good or bad, they’re solid and steady through the storm of time. 

He won’t admit it, but among the other qualities lays the fact that he is a good teacher. One might even venture to say that he is an excellent teacher, with seemingly endless pools of kind patience, an uncanny ability to know how to reach even the most challenging and troubled of students, and oceans of knowledge from which to quench the thirst of the curious. It’s his unintentional personal oversight of this key flagstone that has birthed the confusion knotting his forehead currently. 

“Look Cas, I’m honored, really, I am...” Dean’s hand runs through his hair and then down his face, a nervous habit he’s picked up over the years, though he’s not sure where or when. He takes a deep breath before gathering the courage to continue. “But when I told you some things are better learned from watching, this...” He gestures to the room, unable to articulate the words he needs, unsure if any are actually needed, “is not what I meant.”

“I need you to teach me.” 

Dean tries to keep his face blank, but it has a habit of thinking out loud. His eyes grow wide, his eyebrows fly high, and his bottom lip ends up pinched between his teeth to hold in a startled laugh. He steadies himself with a deep breath, slowly letting it out of his nose while he counts to ten.

“Cas, man, it’s pretty self explanatory…”

Leia, currently lying back on the bed she shares with Cas, her honey eyes taking in the awkward exchange between Dean and his best friend. Her deep red hair cascaded over her shoulders like a mane of fire, as she chortled over Castiel’s unamused huff and eyeroll. 

“Dean, I’ve been watching humans mate and reproduce since before they were bipedal. I understand and am perfectly capable of bringing Leia pleasure through standard sexual intercourse.”

Dean suppresses a wince over Cas’s blunt wording; even years of friendship can’t take away the resounding feeling as though he’s talking about sex with a parent. 

If he’s seen so much, shouldn’t he be teaching me?

The unwelcome thought crosses his mind, paired with an image of Cas in a full bodied latex suit, and he physically shakes it away.

“Then I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Cas, I think you’d better just show Dean. It’ll be easier that way.”

Castiel frowns as he considers this, nodding as he settles on a decision. “I suppose you’re correct. Dean, may I?”

Dean closes his eyes to think, rubbing at his hairline like it will help ease his thoughts. He realizes the confusion is going to eat at him until he barges back in and confronts them anyways, and decides that he’d rather skip the forty minutes of pacing and get straight to the point. He still has a list of things to get done today, one that leaves little room for such distractions. “I guess. Let’s get this over with Feathers, I’ve got guns to clean.”

Cas’ lips thin at Dean’s use of the nickname, but he moves past without comment. “You might feel mildly disoriented.” He presses two fingers to each of Dean’s temples, and the world around Dean shimmers, causing his stomach to roll. His eyes close against the sensation, and it vanishes before he can even be sure he really felt it to begin with. 

Dean opens his eyes and finds himself sucked into one of his favorite memories; quite literally. His lips are sealed around Leia’s clit as she writhes underneath him, her cunt clenching around his fingers as she cums. He doesn’t stop, even when she tries to pull away. Instead, he shifts the arm not currently three fingers deep, and pins her hips in place. She breaks from panting to whine his name, high and desperate, but he knows she’s been holding out on him. Her thighs squeeze, one on top of one shoulder, one underneath the other, and he replaces his mouth with his thumb so he can turn and bite the thigh against his ear. He’s rewarded with a sharp, ragged gasp, his thumb circling relentlessly as his fingers push against her g-spot. Her shoulders lift part way off the bed and for a moment she looks like a marionette, her eyes open but unseeing, her mouth hanging slack. He can feel her whole body tensing around him, and he can’t help but grin. 

“Come on, Honey, let go for me,” he drawls, his accent thick and voice ragged. 

He can feel her let go with his finger tips, and his eyes study her face as his skin tingles in a mix of awe, pride, and lust. Castiel chooses that moment to rip him back into the present, and he uses the guise of disorientation to close his eyes and steady his beating heart. His fingers twitch at his side with the urge to wipe phantom moisture off on his jeans, and his cock stirs in his jeans. He rattles off the safety features of the newest Dodge minivan in his head, willing an awkward erection away. 

Traction control, tire pressure monitoring, rear child safety locks.

Since the universe decides against opening a black hole directly beneath his feet, Dean opens his eyes. He looks first at Leia, her warm eyes filled with concern, before turning to meet Cas’ cool blue gaze. 

“Will you teach me?”

“Cas...” Dean runs his hand across his face, his eyes flicking between his friends. “I don’t know. Even if I could, I’m not sure how I would.” 

“I could always take the information straight from the source.” Castiel, Dean was sure, was immune to any and all awkwardness. 

“Castiel! I told you that if Dean didn’t want to help, you would let him go, without any brain spelunking.”

“If you would let me use my grace-”

“You can use your grace to- nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Leia smirks and shoots Dean a wink, and he shudders mentally.

Dean sighs again, his mind battling with its southern counterpart, and blessedly Castiel and Leia stay silent. He gazes at the angel before him, thinking of all the times he’s been saved by his hand, how Castiel has rarely ever asked him for anything but trust. He thinks of Leia, who has been by his side for the better part of 20 years, spent the prime of her life trying to keep his ass alive, and how much she deserves someone who could give her all the things he can’t (or in this case, all the things he can) do. She’s happy with Cas. Cas wants to give her everything she could want. Dean refuses to think about where else Cas would turn for advice, and realizes the decision has been made. 

“Alright. If everyone is okay with this...” Dean gestures to the room again, still unsure there are appropriate words to describe the situation. “I’ll help you.” Leia smiles softly at him, relief washes over Castiel’s face. Dean swallows hard, and thinks there might be a rock settled in his stomach. “How…?”

“Some things are best learned by watching.” 

Of course that would be the one piece of advice Castiel would latch on to. 

“Right. Okay. Well…”

Attuned to his emotions after so many years living beside him, Leia gets up from the bed and stands between him and Castiel. Headstrong, with no room for nonsense, she grasps the open sides of his flannel, pulls him flush against her body, and presses her lips to his. 

It’s been eleven years since they shared a kiss, but it seems as though no one informed their mouths. They fit together the same, and Dean finds himself running his hands up her arms, across her back, pulling her closer, one hand traveling up to the back of her head. She relaxes against him, and it would be so easy for Dean to pretend Castiel isn’t there, to believe that they never fell apart, to find safety and solace in her touch once more, to break down the walls he spent so long building that he can no longer remember if they’re for her sake or his. 

He stiffens, but Leia already knows. She kisses her way across his jaw on up to his earlobe, nibbling softly just behind the curve. She pulls his earlobe with her teeth, before speaking in a heavy low voice. 

“It’s okay, Dean. I want this. Please.” She breathes the last word. Dean wonders briefly if he imagined it, before his resolve crumbles. 

Dean nods, not trusting himself to speak. Leia slips his shirt from his shoulders, and he lets it fall to his feet. He stops thinking, instinct taking over. Her shirt joins his, and he grins when he finds she’s decided to forgo a bra. He backs her on to the bed, his lips trailing hot against her skin as he makes his way up to meet her lips. Castiel shifts behind him, the rustling of his trench coat as he places it on the back of the chair reminding Dean that he’s doing this for a reason, not just living out fantasies. Dean gives control back to his brain, and slows the urgency of his kisses while wondering how to give Castiel a step by step guide on how to make his girlfriend squirt.

“The first-“ Dean’s voice is too low, too thick with lust, so he clears his throat and attempts to continue. “You gotta start-“ Leia stops his stuttering with a kiss. 

“This isn’t going to work if you spend the entire time stumbling over a play by play like it’s your first day on ESPN.”

Dean hangs his head in defeat, the tips of his hair brushing against Leia’s nude chest as it rises. An apology is clawing its way out when Castiel speaks from a spot behind him. 

“Just pray to me.”

Dean turns to meet the cool blue gaze over his right shoulder, and Cas nods at whatever emotions are swirling over his own eyes. Dean finds no doubt in Cas’, no uncertainty, just oceans of trust with swells of excitement that Dean is still sure he doesn’t deserve. He turns his attention back to Leia, who turns a similar trusting, warm gaze on him. She smiles, lips puffy and face relaxed in a nostalgic lust. 

“Okay?” Her voice is sweet, safe, and Dean smiles as the rock in his stomach cracks. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dean leans in for a deep kiss, invading her mouth with an expert tongue before making his way down her neck. He prays as he goes along, explaining every touch to Castiel. Leia moans beneath him, leaning in to his touch as he strips her, blunt nails coaxing goosebumps to her skin. He trails kisses and bites down her body, the thumb of his right hand brushing over her nipple, his left resting on her hip as he settles between her thighs. She feels hot and and solid beneath him, and the way she’s relaxed, honey eyes half lidded and full of lust, calms him. Dean bites the inside of her thigh, soothes it with a kiss, and then the absurdness of what they’re doing hits him.

He nearly laughs. It creeps up his throat from deep inside him, threatening to break this tender moment, and he’s not sure that he can hold it in. 

If anyone would have told me, at any point in time, that I would be praying to an angel while demonstrating how to make his girlfriend squirt-

Leia’s hands in his hair bring him back from the edge of hysterics. She pulls, hard enough to move his head, and he twists her nipple in retaliation. She hisses, arching, and she chuckles.

“Focus, Cowboy.”

Dean grins and gets to work. He tightens his grip on her hip, uses his tongue until she’s keening for more, pulling his face closer and fighting against his hold to grind against him. He squeezes her nipple once more before he adjusts himself, latching on to her clit and thrusting the two middle fingers on his left hand in her sodden cunt. He can feel her clenching desperately already, and within a few moves of his fingers she’s cumming.

Once the first one is out of the way, the main key is to keep going, Cas. No matter what she says, or if she tries to pull away, keep going.

Her low pitched guttural groan fills the room, and her thighs clench around his head. He can’t help but chuckle, letting her hip go long enough to force his left arm between her thigh and his ear, pressing the length of his forearm down across her hips and grabbing tight to her right. He adjusts, filling the emptiness where his left hand had been with his right, kissing and nipping at her thigh while rubbing her clit in rough circles with the pad of his thumb. She fidgets, trying to pull away from the overstimulation, desperate whimpers falling sweetly on the air, her body trembling around him. She begins to buck, fighting to pull away, and he can sense Cas stiffen behind him. 

This is where you make your mistake. She’s so close Cas, you can feel her tightening and trying to fight it, but if you really want to make her happy you’ve got to push her into it. Rub her gspot harder, make sure you never let up on her clit, and tell her what you want. She loves that.

“Come on Honey,” Dean purrs, his voice deep and heavy with lust, his accent dripping from his words. “Let go for me.” 

Present mirrors the past, and Dean is awash in deja vu.

Leia’s mouth opens, her whines cutting off to a silent scream. Dean can feel every one of her muscles clenching, her fingers gripping so hard around the bedsheets that the fabric is protesting. The pressure continues building, her shoulders coming off the bed of their own accord, turning her into a marionette of pleasure, a memory come to life. He can feel the release on the tips of his fingers, bringing a grin to his face. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Her silent scream breaks into a desperate cry as her release sprays down his arm. She gasps, falling apart from the inside out. Dean runs his hands up her body as she finally relaxes, the human version of a spring that’s been wound until it snaps. She collapses back down on the bed, her legs extending to either side as her muscles relax. Her chest heaves as she pulls in desperate gasps of air, aftershocks of pleasure still vibrating through trembling extremities. 

Dean smiles softly at her, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh before standing. His cock aches, his erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans that seem two sizes tighter than this morning. He backs away as Castiel sheds his trenchcoat and settles on the bed, pulling Leia to his chest and murmuring praise between kisses. Dean watches as he feels jealousy blanket his shoulders. It’s her soft begging that finally gets his feet moving again, though his eyes and ears stay fixed on the couple in the bed, his heart aching for it’s happy ending. Sorry buddy, you’re going to have to settle for another long shower.

“Dean.” Her voice reaches him as his hand settles on the door handle, a tangible echo, just as sweet as it was when she was his. “I need you too.” He stops and turns, his heart rate skyrocketing, his cock twitching excitedly. “Please.” She’s always begged more with her eyes than her words, and Dean sees that old flame brought back to life, an ember fanned to raging inferno.

Every fiber of his being is singing all the praises Heaven doesn’t deserve, but still he hesitates.

“It’s okay, Dean.” Blue eyes ground him, just as safe and steady in the bedroom as they are on the battlefield. 

Dean turns from the door, his hands already working at the button of his jeans as he floats back toward the bed. Their clothes are gone before his jeans make it over his hips, and he decides that maybe grace has more advantages than those that are tactile. He pauses at the foot of the bed, the logistics overwhelming his lust addled brain. Shower sex isn’t the only thing that’s complicated. Hell is still just hell, though.

“What do you want, Princess?” Castiel murmurs low into Leia’s ear, and Dean is close enough to see the bumps rise on her skin.

“Deep.” Her tongue stumbles over the single word, her endorphin overloaded brain struggling to process anything more than action and touch.

“I need you to ask for it.” Castiel rolls, throwing one of her limp legs over his hip, dipping two fingers into her cunt and making her eyes fly skyward. “Or you’re not going to get what you want.”

Dean’s cock twitches against his abdomen, and he slowly strokes himself as he watches Castiel’s fingers move, listens to the wet that he caused, feels his body heat under the angel’s sharp gaze. 

They seem to spend an eternity in that moment, washed in lust, excitement, and anticipation. Everything is tense, but Dean feels lighter than he has in years as he allows himself to stop thinking and simply wait to be given a command.

“I want Dean to fuck my ass,” Leia finally manages to gasp out as Cas continues to tease her. “While I ride your cock.” 

Castiel pulls his hand out and settles her slowly onto him. Leia gasps, her hands gripping his shoulders as he guides her hips down, inch by agonizing inch, Dean’s mouth falling open and a grin crawling across Cas’ face as they both watch. Cas maneuvers them until they’re at the end of the bed, his legs hanging over the end and her knees propped on the edge. Dean runs his hand down her back, along the curve of her spine, her skin soft and smooth beneath his time roughened palm. He cups her ass, firm from decades of hunting, and his thumb rubs over a wayward freckle. He spreads it, his tongue darting out to wet his lip as he takes in the view before him, savoring it. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice breaks through his trance, and when he finds that sharp gaze, Castiel is holding out a bottle of lube.

Dean nods as he accepts it, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to form words. He lubes his fingers, teasing her hole before pushing one in. He would gladly go to hell again to hear the moan that left her lips as she pushed back onto his hand. He slowly works her open with one hand as he strokes himself with the other, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

“Dean, please I need you,” Leia whines, her forehead settled on Castiel’s shoulder as the angel busies himself kissing and nipping her neck, teeth grazing one of her favorite spots.

“Okay, darling. I’ve got you.” He preps, takes a deep breath, and pushes forward.

It feels like coming home. Dean gasps and he’s surrounded by tight heat, his hands digging into her hips, his legs settling against the bed, sandwiched between hers and Cas’s. Dean, a corner of his mind once worried about the possible awkwardness of sharing his past love with her present one, the small rational part of his brain speeding through the consequences of fucking his best friend’s girl while he’s in the room, is suddenly certain that if he moves, he will cum instantly, something he hasn’t done since he was 17.

Dean tries to think of a witty comment, the sudden vulnerability of the situation overwhelming him, the need for a protective wall of humor urgent, even though he knows it will destroy this precious moment. His mouth opens, his tongue threatening to sabotage this perfection, but instead of words Dean moans incoherently as Castiel grabs his hips and forces him to move in sync with his own thrusts.

Dean decides that it’s okay to turn his brain off. He stops thinking, and instead he starts feeling. He reaches a hand around to rub at Leia’s clit, tightens his hold on her hip as she falls limp, her body unable to hold itself up between them. Tears are rolling slowly down her cheeks, drool slipping out of the corner of her mouth as her eyes unfocus and she succumbs to the intense pleasure. 

“Such a good girl.” Cas’ voice is deeper than Dean imagined would be possible, rough and breathless as he throws his head back. “More, Dean. Harder.” Cas guides Dean’s movements, pulling his hips in. Dean plants his feet, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, giving himself leverage for more powerful thrusts, pulling a deep moan from Cas’ lips. “Yes, Dean, good.”

Dean’s balls tighten at the praise, his thighs begin to burn as his pace quickens, desperation driving him. He feels Leia cum again, hears her hiss at the end of a silent scream, but it seems far away. His only focus is chasing the high, getting relief from the pressure that’s settled on his groin, because right now everything is tightening, every muscle is tensing. Dean grasps both of her hips in his hands, his knuckles turning white as his pace begins to falter. He hears Castiel call out, feels the hands on his own hips tense and relax, and finally he’s breaking.

Time is meaningless. He falls onto the bed, years of tension seeped from his body. He feels like he’s floating, relaxed and happy, a constant pain numbed in a way that whiskey cannot help. Castiel cleans up Leia with a snap, and she wakes enough to cuddle against Dean, nuzzling her way beneath his arm just like she always has. Castiel lays behind her, bringing with him a sense of safety Dean craves. 

------

Dean is staring at the gun in his hands, but he hasn’t moved to clean it. He glances at the clock, surprised to find that he’s been unfocused for fifteen minutes. He’s not been able to make it through a quarter of his list, but he can’t bring himself to count the day as wasted as he normally would. He’s been trapped in his mind today, bouncing between nostalgia and present, doing his best to not linger on the new, overwhelming amount of ‘what-if’s and ‘what does it mean’s buzzing around his mind. 

He finds himself falling into another spiral, wondering if this was a one time romp, or if he’s not the only one with unrequited feelings. If Leia still has feelings, what does that mean for Cas? They make each other better, they need each other, and Dean does not have enough room in his mental guilt chest to add that.

A small knock at his door makes him jump, and he clears his throat and busies his hands before telling them to come in.

“Dean?” Leia’s voice is tentative, her eyes troubled. She settles herself on his bed, and Dean forces himself to stay where he is at his desk. His heart is racing nearly as fast as his mind, anxiety restricting his lungs and drying his mouth. “Can we talk?” There it was. The death sentence.

“Of course.” Dean zeroed in on the gun in his hands, focused on the familiar movements.

“I talked with Cas about what happened this morning. It...” She paused, biting her lip as she struggled with what to say next. A hundred scenarios began playing through Dean’s mind, each one worse than the previous. 

It was a one-time thing. It was a mistake. It was something I regret. It was the final straw, I can’t do this anymore, we’re leaving.

“It stirred up some emotions that I buried a long time ago. I hope that I don’t offend you by saying this, or that this makes you uncomfortable.” She took a deep breath, and Dean began to oil the pieces of his gun, glad to have something to do with his hands so that she couldn’t see them tremble as he waited patiently for her to continue, every muscle tensed and prepared for life’s usual kick to his metaphorical (and sometimes physical) balls.

“I still love you, Dean. I’ve talked it out with Cas. If you’re interested, I’d like to … make sure this isn’t a one time thing. Cas is okay with this. He understands that each of you are important to me, and each of you fulfill different areas of my life. I want you both.”

Dean’s hands stop moving. He distantly hears the piece of gun clatter to the floor. Every thought screeches to a halt as he looks up, searching her face for any hint of a lie or a prank. Instead, he finds raw vulnerability, one he had chased away long ago. The walls he had watched her build between them over the years, even the bricks he had had purposefully caused her to lay, were now mere crumbles of brick and mortar. 

A smile begins to slowly spread across Dean’s face.

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#Supernatural Fan Fiction #supernatural #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #Smut #Supernatural smut

[hellas-himself]

Where There Are Shadows pt 32

so. two things. 

I am absolute Elriel trash. But I am also here for Elucien, but since this is Feyrhycien, we’re going with Elriel. 

I’m on and off with Nessian. I eat it up when I read fics on here, but when I read the books I remember how she treats everyone and it irks my soul. But I love her in my own way. 

So with that being said, happy hump day. 

.

.

.

-Feyre-

 Elain was a giggling mess as I buttoned up the back of her dress. It was perhaps as Night Court as I would ever see my sister. It was similar to the dress I’d worn the night Rhys and I had invited Lucien to dinner at the House all those months ago, except hers was not backless and wherever there was skin exposed, she’d had it altered to at least a sheer panel of fabric which somehow made it that more alluring.

“You might just give Azriel a heart attack,” I said when I finished and we stared at her reflection in the mirror.

“If he didn’t pass out yesterday, I think he’ll be fine,” she said as she began to fret over her hair. “You’d think they’d announce themselves when they arrive.”

I snorted. Elain and I had been up on the patio sunbathing yesterday morning and when I realized all three males had finally come back from the Steppes, we’d run inside in our towels. Rhys could not have been happier, but Az…

“I can’t believe you walked right up to him and said hello before disappearing into your room.”

“It’s not like he was going to!”

I helped her pin some of her hair back.

“Elain Archeron, where is your modesty!”

She laughed.

“I must have lost it outside in the garden.”

“Maybe Az found it and has it in his pocket.”

“I’ll have to ask him for it, then.”

Gods, this ease in which Elain and I could talk to one another… We had never had this. I hated that Nesta was missing out on it. On seeing Elain break free of her shell and doing things solely because they made her happy, not because they were expected of her. And my goal was to give Elain a night she would never forget.  

All eyes were on Elain when we made it downstairs, Cassian whistling as she walked by. Amren was quick to come admire the gold bracelet inlaid with pink stones while Rhys showered us both with compliments. Varian raised his glass at her from where he sat.

When we sat down, Cassian was kind enough to bring us some wine.

“Shame Az isn’t here for dinner,” Cas said with a sigh, making Rhys roll his eyes.

“Feyre and I are going out today,” Elain declared. I noticed that she searched the room but did not find who she was looking for. If she was disappointed she didn’t say anything.

“You’re all dressed up like that and you’re not even having dinner with us?” Cassian asked, genuinely surprised. Elain blushed.

“No,” I said. Cassian looked disappointed.

“But you and Rhys could walk us to where we’re going,” Elain kindly offered to which Cassian happily accepted. 

.

“Have you ever been here before?” Rhys asked, looking at Elain as she shook her head.

Cas had his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him.

“I’ve never been here before either,” he whispered.

“Mor suggested it,” I replied and he sighed.

“That explains it.”

I poked his side as we approached the two fae standing before a set of double doors. Arm in arm, Rhys led Elain inside, Cas and I following. The owner of the venue greeted us personally before guiding us upstairs to the private area I had requested.

“Feyre!” Elain exclaimed, letting go of Rhys to pull me away from Cas. She led me to a painting that hung on the wall.

“So that’s where Mor put it,” I muttered, feeling my face get warm. It was a painting of Velaris from my point of view up at the House of Wind.  

“It is an honor to have your work here, my Lady,” the owner said.

“Thank you,” was all I could manage to say. Elain laughed at me for it.

Rhysand went to speak with the owner and soon, we were left to our own devices. We walked its gilded halls hand in hand, admiring the paintings and the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. We’d had this once, even if I did not remember much of it. But what little good I’d had as a child, Elain was there.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked as I held out my hand to continue on.

“I like seeing you happy.”

The sound of music grew louder the closer we got to the doors at the end of the hall.

“It sounds like a ball,” Elain mused, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Cassian and Rhys did us the honors of opening the doors for us.

And it was better than I had imagined.

Standing beneath a canopy of flowers and fae light was Azriel, who looked as if he had just finished decorating the room. My sister gasped, eyes wide. There were two long tables covered in trays of food, and a table solely for drinks. The quartet played from the dais on the far end of the room which was as large as a ball room. It was just as grand as the rest of the building, boasting a large chandelier and floor to ceiling windows that gave us a beautiful view of Velaris.

“Feyre… What did you do?”

“I may have let slip that tonight was very important.”

Her eyes widened.

“Just go to him,” I whispered, giving her a gentle nudge. As she made her way over, a smile blossomed on Azriel’s face that was so devastatingly beautiful I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to capture it perfectly.

“What is all this?” she asked Azriel, bringing her hands to his chest as she admired the detail on his waist coat. He took her hands in his and kissed them.  

“Happy birthday,” he said softly.

Her laughter was melodious.  

“Azriel… It’s beautiful.”

Whatever he said to her was lost on me as everyone walked in, complimenting the room and how both Elain and Azriel were dressed.

“Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?”

Cassian wrapped an arm around me.

“Elain didn’t know.”

“I resent that.”

I leaned into him.

“You’ll forgive me.”

“Really?”

I nodded, watching Elain admire the flowers with Az. Mor looked in awe of the room and was chatting away with Amren while Varian approached them with drinks. Guests from all over arrived, those who had come to know Elain and wanted to share this night with us.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Cas. “Rhys is looking a little lonely.”

Cassian laughed as I walked off to where Rhysand was standing, taking everything in.

“You pulled it off,” he said with a smile.

“With a lot of help.”

“You look exquisite, Feyre.”

I blushed. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His laughter warmed my heart. The way he looked at me never ceased to give me butterflies, to make me feel altogether vulnerable and safe. 

Elain danced with nearly everyone, even Rhysand. Those two did nothing but laugh the entire time, especially when they saw me watching. When Azriel swept her off her feet, quite literally, we all tried to pretend we weren’t watching them dance. But I had the feeling they saw no one else but each other.

As the party began to wind down, we found Cassian handing Elain a small glass. She eyed him with a determination that reminded me of Nesta, of me. And she drank the whole thing and held the glass out for more.

And so began their game.

They tried racing one another back to the townhouse, but that ended with Cassian slipping and Elain stopping to laugh at him. Cassian goaded the rest of us into his little game, until we were all drunk. When Elain beat Cas in finishing her drink, we all applauded. Az was watching her with a little smile on his face, not as drunk as the rest of us, but enough to not care that we saw him smiling as he looked at her.

When the time came for presents, she thanked us all individually as we passed them to her. A pair of earrings from Rhys, a set of gardening tools from Cas. Amren and Varian had given her flowers from the Summer Court to be sent to the greenhouse, which left her beaming.

The room went still as Elain opened Azriel’s gift.

“Azriel, this is too much.” She held up the little gold necklace by the blue stone that hung from it. Her eyes met his and then she was smiling as she rose to her feet. “Put it on for me.”

Azriel went to stand behind her, and the way his fingers brushed across her skin reminded me of how Rhys used to be with me, in the beginning. I wasn’t sure why I remembered the first time he’d helped me into fighting leathers but when I looked at Rhys, he was grinning like the insufferable prick that he was. I rolled my eyes, before looking away to find the Elain hugging Az, leaving him blushing.

And then came my gift.

“Just once, Elain. If you hate it, I’ll give you the back up present.”

“A back up present?” she asked, lifting the little top I’d had made for her. It was like every other Night Court outfit Rhys had ever given me, but hers was a deep blue, almost black. Little silver beads hung from the hem of the top. The pants had a silver chain that hung loose on the hips, both pant legs made of the sheer fabric I’d come to cherish in this summer heat. With a giggle, she took Cassian’s drink from his hand and finished it, excusing herself from the room.

When she walked back, I think we all held our breath. These clothes, they were made for a figure like hers. She was blushing as she went to sit between Cassian and Mor again. She’d never shown this much skin before, but I suppose after our little incident yesterday, this was nothing.

And then, Mor passed her a little pink bag, a bag I knew far too well thanks to Rhysand and Lucien. My sister peeked inside and turned red in the face.  

“I think I sent Az the matching set when we got here, but honestly, any of these three might have it on their dresser,” Mor said with a hiccup, pointing to Cassian and Rhys. “Whoever has it, make sure it makes its way to Azriel.”

But Az didn’t even seem bothered, even as we all laughed. If anything, there was a light in his eyes that I had never seen before.

“Az,” Elain said as she held up the scraps of lace long enough that I knew he was able to discern what they were, before she returned them to their bag. “I think I dropped my modesty outside in the garden. Feyre said you may have found it.”

The room went quiet as their eyes met and if this was how Rhys and I made everyone else feel, I almost felt bad.

“You left it on the desk in my office. I’d been waiting for you to come back so that I might return it,” he said so seriously that we all stared at him until he and Elain burst into laughter.

By the end of the night, Az was passed out on the sofa, Elain curled up beside him. Mor was snoring and Rhys was stuck beneath his cousin who had rested her head on his lap.

“I have to do one more thing, then I’ll come save you,” I whispered to him. He smiled, waving me off. He alone had helped me with this last part of the night. But he had felt his brother would not have accepted it from anyone else.

I had expected to find Cassian passed out on the bed, but he was wide awake, eyeing me from where he stood, tying up his hair.

“You finally get the room to yourself,” I said softly. He chuckled.

“He’ll wake up and come push me off.”

I walked in the room and made my way towards him. I knew I looked suspicious, especially with my hands behind my back.

“I doubt it.”

He raised a brow. “What are you up to?”

“Well, I discovered something I felt that the Lord Commander needed to know.”

His sudden seriousness nearly made me laugh.

“I need you to know, Cassian, that you are by far one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. And I need you to know that I love you.”

I held out the little box to him. He looked too stunned for words.

“I can’t go back in time and grace your life with my presence every year,” I said, which finally made him laugh. “But I’m here now. And no one gets away with hiding their birthday from me. Ever.”

“Feyre…”

“I know it was a few days ago, but I hadn’t found anything that screamed your name at me.”

“It’s usually a female doing that,” he said as he took the box from my hand.

“Now you know why I never visit your house.”

We both laughed. He undid the ribbon and set the lid aside.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not sure if it fits, but we can fix that if it doesn’t.”

He held up the gold band, the obsidian stone glimmering in the fae light. It was simple, but there was something about it that told me he needed to have it.

“No one’s ever given me anything like this.” His voice was nearly a whisper. Was he going to cry?

“Try it on.”

He let me slide the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, Feyre. I don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that it matters. That you matter. That every year that we get to have you in our lives, is something worth celebrating.”

I wasn’t expecting to see tears in his eyes. But there they were. I pulled him into a hug which made him laugh.

“I love you, Feyre.”

“I know,” I said with a laugh. “I love you, too.”

“I forgive you, by the way.”

I giggled. “Told you.”

By the time I went downstairs to get Rhys, he was already asleep. He didn’t stir until I’d managed to move Mor to the other side.

His eyes fell on me, red and glassy.

“There you are,” he said. “My salvation.”

Rhys got to his feet and chuckled when he almost lost his footing. Once he was ready to walk, I led him up the stairs, but he missed a step and pulled me down with him. We tried not to laugh, but then when I tried to stand up, Rhys pulled me to his lap. His kiss was greedy, and his wandering hands were going to get us in trouble.

“Rhys,” I whispered. “We can’t have sex on the stairs.”

“Why?” he asked as he kissed my neck.

“Everyone is here.” He stopped, and I felt this sudden panic down the bond.

“Not everyone,” he said quietly, looking at me with such sadness, I would have winnowed us right to the Day Court if I knew we’d make it there in one piece. “Lucien isn’t here.”

I kissed Rhysand with as much fervor as he’d kissed me.

“Lucien wouldn’t fuck you on the stairs in front of everyone. He’d wait till everyone was in their room.”

“He would,” Rhys said with a big smile as I pulled him to his feet.

“When he comes back home, we’ll have plenty of new stairwells you two can make use of. For now, we have the bed. Now walk.”

.

Being hungover was never enjoyable. It was even less so, walking into a small bar in the early hours of morning, wishing that I hadn’t made this arrangement. But I’d already walked out here and I had to get it over with.

Nesta was sitting in the back, as she always did. She looked as bad as I felt. And yet, her eyes still held nothing but resentment when she saw me approach. I knew I probably still had Rhys’ scent all over me, but Lucien’s too, as I was wearing his shirt that I’d found at the bottom of the drawer. And when she sniffed at me when I neared the table, I almost saw red. I would never judge her for the males I knew left her apartment, the one I could scent on her now. It was none of my business, as long as no one hurt her, just like who I slept with was none of her business. Even if her gaze told me exactly what she thought of that.

“I was beginning to think you’d make me walk to your house.”

I sat down, reaching into my pocket to hand her the folded note for the rent. There might have been surprise in her eyes as she took it.

“For this, you could have sent it with the courier.”

“For what? So you could send it back without even bothering to read it?”

I saw the anger in her eyes but I was too tired to let it unsettle me. I was hungry. And I wanted to go back home to be there when Elain woke up to find herself in Azriel’s arms on the sofa beneath the blanket Cassian had so kindly draped over them.

“I don’t see how that was any of your concern.”

“You missed her birthday.”

“I had no reason to be there.”

“You could have gone to the townhouse to see her.” I knew my voice was harsher than I had meant it to be. “You could have written a note. She misses you, Nesta.”

“Your little party was all anyone talked about last night, I’m sure that her evening was perfect without me.”

“You could not be more wrong.”

She glared at me for a time.

“Are we done?”

“No,” I said. “The house is almost finished. We’re inviting everyone over once we’re settled in. I want you to be there.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my sister. What other reason do I need to want you around?”

She rose to her feet. She was wearing someone else’s shirt and a pair of pants that might have been mine once but it was stained with wine and Mother knew what else.

“Forgive me for not wanting to be subject to the judgement of your family.”

“You are my family, Nesta.”

“Yes. The way mother was.”

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#I stan elain and feyre as absolute besties tbh #and I stan feyre and cas as ultimate bros #although they'd make a good crack ship #since i'm trying to follow along with what we got in acofas #i'm going to be trying to make more sense of the nesta situation we were left with #but honestly elain and cas are bros #and elain not being a shy meek little thing is also something I stan #not that theres anything wrong with that but I like to think elain comes into her own and isn't as shy around those she loves #where there are shadows #acofas spoilers #where there are shadows pt 32 #feyrhycien fic #feyre x rhys x lucien #feyrhycien #elriel

[k5ine]

An open letter to my brother #2

17 Feb. 2017 Los Angeles, CA Ian, I met the woman I always told you I would someday meet. The one who brings butterflies to my stomach and visions of bliss to my mind whenever I close my eyes. The one who holds me tight whenever the world seems too sinister and my anxiety feels like it’s going to defeat me. The one who is willing to take on the aggressive, Germanic tone that is my last name. She is the most beautiful human being that I have ever laid eyes on, and in this moment I am wholly convinced that my soul was put on this planet to find hers. Maybe I’ll be able to describe these feelings to you someplace in the future, but until then this will have to suffice. She knows you, or at least knows the man I have depicted you to her as. She knows of your unparalleled loyalty and coy sense of humor. She knows of your tremendous athletic feats, and the thunderous slap that was your driver smacking a golf ball into the great big void down the fairway. She knows that you were my rock, and my right hand. She knows of our exploits, both good-willed and mischievous. She knows that we planned to see everything together. Even the great big rolling hills upon which her and I call home in Southern California were supposed to be a sight that I would one day be able to share with you. I’d always dreamed of you being in my wedding party when the day came for me to call on you, but I’ll never get that chance — so I spoke to your dad about it. For a long time after your passing — before I even knew that I could fall in love or plan a wedding — I battled with the idea of either having your father being the preacher who married me to my wife to be or having him stand in my groom’s party as your replacement. I don’t want you to have a replacement, so I asked your dad to give the blessing of marriage to us. I will shoulder your legacy in the manner in which I live, and our first child will bear your name to honor and carry-on the memory of you wherever she or he goes. Your 27th birthday is a week from today. I’m sure by this point, you would be a pro at some luxurious golf course, if not on the PGA Tour, and I would be making arrangements to come spend a few days with you so we could celebrate another year of your beautiful existence. I wonder if you would be married or engaged by now, or if little Ian’s would be running around the driveway of your home. Some days I can accept this fate, and on others it still hits me with the same bludgeoning force that it did the day I found out I would never see or hear from you again. Wherever you, or your soul, are I hope that it’s infinite, exquisite, and not too cold — you always complained about the cold. To be honest, I hope it’s a lot like the place that I call home now, besides the air pollutants and pretentious hierarchy of those who think they’re far too important for common people. I’m sorry that my 2nd letter to you took so long to type. These aren’t things that I really enjoy doing. Battling back the anger, frustration, grieving, and never-ending tears is a task that is usually far too substantial for me to take on. I like to think that in these moments, in which I can pull myself together to reach out to you, that I am growing as a person. Or perhaps it means nothing, and I am just merely getting out the things that build up inside of my head so that I don’t self-implode. Regardless of the forces that inspire these words, I am happy to be able to call you my family. Until next time — Your brother, always Kaine