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somethingpoetichere · 3 years

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lovebug- caliban imagine

sup. fic inspired by my favorite song in THE world. not as soft mushy as it may sound I promise caliban is a nice lil sarcastic SHIT with a big ole crush. mild sabrina bashing but its funny in context and I think it’s the way family behaves. reader is a Spellman, not a witch but DOES know about the supernatural/is part of the supernatural world. here with my once in a blue moon post lol. feedback would be appreciated!

called her for the first time yesterday

finally found the missing part of me

felt so close but you were far away

left me without anything to say

Caliban was not an idiot- he knew not to underestimate the Spellman half-witch that had gone and declared herself queen of hell. So he’d taken the liberty of learning everything he could about her, noting her habits and schedule and the people she surrounded herself with.

And then he found you.

You weren’t a witch- at least, he hadn’t found your name in his diligent searching through the Book of the Beast- but you were something. That he was sure of. There was something slightly off about your presence, tinged a little glittery, though not altogether unpleasant.

No, not unpleasant at all, he mused as he watched you make your way towards your car. Tucked into a little yellow sundress, you stood out like a ray of sunshine in the wave of doom-and-gloom that hallmarked high school. The school bell rang out behind you, and Caliban felt his knees go disgustingly weak as you smiled brilliantly at Sabrina through the crowd.

It was a stupid, stupid decision that Caliban would never have made in the right state of mind, but he reasoned that pissing off Sabrina was validation enough to get your attention. He ducked into your path on purpose, taking advantage of your momentary distraction as he gently bumped into you. oops.

You collided with a solid wall, books tumbling out of your hands as strong arms reached out to steady you. You let out a surprised yelp at the collision, peeking up curiously as the wall you’d hit laughed.

Oh, well that was a sight for sore eyes.

The golden haired stranger holding you was, well, gorgeous. Bright blue eyes peered down at you as he grinned, and you felt the whole world shutter around you. You’d definitely been watching too many soap operas with your auntie, but goddamn it if you weren't positively putty.

“Hi there, stranger.” You giggled nervously, and Caliban suddenly remembered he’d had his arms around you for far too long to be acceptable. He reluctantly retreated, feeling something claw a little uncomfortably in his chest.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologized, moving to pick up your books as you bent down to retrieve them. He ran a hand through his hair in barely concealed bashfulness, unsure of why he felt so... unsettled, all of a sudden.

“It’s alright, my head was in the clouds.” You waved off his apology, accepting the books he offered you with a grateful smile. “Are you new here? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“He’s new here!” Sabrina’s shrill voice interrupted, training her icy glare on Caliban, who fought back a smirk. “This is Caliban- he’s from... Australia! Yeah, down under!”

“Oh, I can show you around tomorrow! I know how scary it can be to be new here.” You patted his arm sympathetically, ignoring Sabrina’s stream of indignant protests. “I was with student council all day. If you’re a senior, we probably have most of the same classes.”

Caliban had shit to do. Caliban had trials to plan and souls to torture. But you were looking at him- all warmth and sunshine, and Sabrina’s look of pure horror only sweetened the deal.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow then, sunshine.”

so worth it.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban didn't understand why the mortals all bemoaned high school as hell on earth. It certainly wasn't so bad once you got past the wave of body spray and the questionable cafeteria food. In fact, darting to class with a pretty girl beside him was pretty enjoyable, all things considered.

You’d spent the day introducing him to the other students, passing him silly notes in class, and had even tugged him from the lunch room to hang out with your friends in the library. He learned that you pretty much did it all- student council, cheerleader, top of your class- all while managing to somehow know the name of everyone you passed with a smile in the halls. You were silly and sweet— smart as all hell with a wit that certainly kept the clay prince on his toes.

and he was smitten.

The groan that escaped your painted lips was delightfully sinful as you slumped in the seat beside him in english class. “I hate Romeo and Juliet. How do two people fall in love in a few days anyhow? And Mrs. Willows always makes us reenact the scenes, and it’s so corny.” The blush that colored your cheeks as he looked at you in concern was something he did his best to commit to memory- cheesiness be damned, Caliban was enjoying himself far too much.

Caliban smirked, skimming through the booklet he’d been passed as the teacher droned. The prince of hell had a certain flare for the dramatics, and Sabrina’s glare burning into the back of his head only fueled his antics. He had one scene in mind, and it was the scene that was certain to kill four birds with one stone- totally make you fall in love with him, he would somehow manage to kiss you (that part was a work in progress), piss off Sabrina, and also- piss off Sabrina.

And kiss you. So maybe five parts. Damn it, Caliban was going to have to make a list.

“Partners?” He whispered softly, gently tugging at your hand as the teacher sat back down. Caliban’s eyes were alight with a tinge of mischief that you either failed to notice or were simply amused by- and your answering nod was more than a little bashful. “We can do my favorite scene.”

“If you say the first kiss scene, I’m punching the daylights out of you.” You warned, playfully nudging his knee with your own. “It will be unkind and I will not feel bad.”

“My lady wounds me.” He dramatically rested his hand above his heart. “And we absolutely have to do this scene-” He raised his hand to silence your half-hearted protests- “because Billy told the guys in calculus that he was specifically going to be pissed if we did this scene.”

Okay, so maybe he’d stretched the truth a little bit. But Caliban knew that the mention of your seedy ex-boyfriend (who you’d enlightened him about during lunch) would absolutely get you to agree to the scene. And it wasn't like he’d lied— Billy Marlin’s glare was nearly as icy as Sabrina’s. And, it wasn't like the way Billy looked at you- with something akin to possession in his eyes- totally made Caliban want to fast track the kid to damnation right then and there. Nope.

“We can meet up later today to practice? I have cheerleading practice after school, but I’m free after that!” You grinned at him, and he felt the tension ease out of his shoulders as you rested your hand on his arm. The gesture was so effortless- but to Caliban, who’d never really experienced connection like this- you reduced him to all but clay again.

“I can drive you home after practice?” Caliban offered, enjoying the yelp that Sabrina let out from the back of the classroom. He shouldered your bag as the bell sounded, noting the way your eyes softened even further at the gesture. “We don't really have cheerleaders down under, you know.”

“You’re welcome to stay and watch.” You shrugged, ignoring the way your heart thudded erratically as he walked you to the locker room. “It won’t be too long today, and Sabrina has a date with Nick after, anyways.”

it was really just too easy.

i can't get your smile out of my mind

i think about your eyes all the time

you're beautiful but you don't even try

(you don't even, don't even try)

modesty is just so hard to find

Caliban wasn’t sure if he regretted his earlier offer. Sure, the sight of you tucked into the tight cheerleading uniform (did they make them that short on purpose?) was pretty much the pinnacle of male fantasy, and the smiles and winks you’d thrown his way whenever he caught your eye during your routines were something else altogether.

But getting the sight out of his brain as you rambled aimlessly in the car about today’s chapters of Dante’s Inferno, while he simultaneously tried to focus on the road and definitely not the way your skirt hitched on the leather seat...

Yeah, Caliban was pretty sure he was in love.

You weren’t too far off, in all honesty. Caliban’s large hands had a firm grip on the steering wheel, and you took the time to admire further up his toned arms as he drove. His hair fell in loose, windswept waves, and his side profile looked like it was sculpted by the freaking gods. Every so often he would glance your way, his perfect lips parting to reveal his perfect teeth and perfect smile and gods-

Yeah, you had the lovebug bad.

“So how did you meet Sabrina?” You questioned innocently enough, and Caliban had to restrain the urge to spill all of the hell-related gossip to you. How Sabrina had managed to keep all of her throne-seeking from you was beyond him, but it certainly added a thrill to his pursuit of you.

“I had some administrative issues the other day and ran into her. She doesn’t like me too much, I’ve gathered.” Caliban was careful not to lie- his entanglement with you had the added perk of pissing off your dearest cousin, but it was genuine on Caliban’s end. He found he didn’t really want to lie about things.

“Sabrina is... touchy.” You offered carefully, shifting in your seat as you pointed out directions to your home. “I don’t really understand why she doesn't like you, to be honest. I was actually going to have a word with her about being nice- you’ve been so sweet, and I was the new kid too a few years back. It's hard to find your place in the established dynamic of a small town.”

Caliban doubted you’d had too much of an issue, with the way the halls seemed to light up around you, but the accompanying smile you gave him was bright enough to soothe his imagined woes. “It’s alright, I reckon she’ll get used to having me around.”

“Used to you?” You mused with a giggle, leaning on the console in a gesture that brought your face much, much closer to his own. He was overwhelmed with your floral scent- something soft and summery and altogether you.

“I plan on being around you a lot, sunshine. If you don’t mind.” He grinned, turning to face you momentarily at the stop sign. Your eyes were wide with hardly concealed surprise at his words, and he watched the realization of the close proximity of his face flicker through them.

It happened so fast that Caliban was almost certain he imagined it- but your eyes had definitely glanced at his lips. The blush that tinged your cheeks as you pulled back confirmed it, and in a moment of calculated risk, Caliban moved to rest his hand on your exposed thigh.

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

If Caliban squinted, he could almost picture that he was a normal teenage boy, driving a beautiful, normal girl home from school. The sinking sun was peeking through the windows, bathing you in an ethereal glow, and - at least for right now- everything was perfect.

you were perfect.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban draped himself across your bed, a languid smirk on his lips as you kicked haphazardly placed piles of clothes into your closet.

“I promise I’m not usually this messy,” you apologized with a sheepish smile, shoving a mass of shoes under your bed, “okay, that's a lie. I’m always this messy, I just didn’t expect company.”

Caliban hardly minded. It was adorable how embarrassed you were, and he took the time to take in your bedroom (drawn from his reverie only by the occasional delighted shout when you found a shirt you’d thought had been sacrificed to the laundry gods, or worse, Sabrina’s room).

The first thing Caliban noticed was the books. While your clothes lay in scattered piles, all of your books were meticulously organized and lovingly tucked into shelves that took up an entire wall of the room. Sabrina may have answered that Caliban’s only hobby was torturing babies (or her, which was the same thing, really— and also, what the hell? Caliban may have enjoyed the occasional soul flaying, but only when it was well deserved!)— but Caliban loved to read.

What was one lifetime in one world, when he could learn of a thousand others in just as many universes? Immortality could grow dull, and eternity had to be spent somehow. Caliban tried not to smile as you precariously placed the book that had found its way onto your nightstand back into its place, and supposed that it might be far more enjoyable with someone else.

You seemed satisfied with your damage control, and slumped onto the bed dramatically with a groan. It was then that Caliban’s hand found a stray victim of your clothing massacre.

“Nice.” He grinned, and you peeked up from your playbook to find him dangling a pink lace bra.

Shit.

“Give me that!” You lunged, but Caliban was too fast. He quickly moved them from your reach, laughing wildly as you wrestled him desperately for the bra.

“You are the worst.” A groan escaped you, and you huffed in fake-defeat as Caliban smirked victoriously at your retreat. You leaped at the chance, tackling Caliban with all your might. While momentarily surprised, he reacted quickly and shifted so that he was now pinning you to the bed, his hair dangling wildly in your face as you both laughed.

Caliban’s face was so close that you could see the flecks of green in his eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to flicker to your lips, but in the seconds it took for you to find your voice again, you’d lost your nerve.

“We should get back to the scene.”

The moment was broken, and Caliban retreated with a bashful look on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and moved to sit across from you, his cheeks tinted a little red as he politely handed you back your intimates and pretended to shield his eyes when you tossed it somewhere. You’d never been so freaking embarrassed in your life, but Caliban was smiling so softly at you, like you were—

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” He motioned around with his hands dramatically, tone playful and light.

You were so dead. Caliban was freaking made for this romantic swooning nonsense that you’d tried to protest nearly the whole ride home, Billy Marlin be damned.

Giggling nervously in what you hoped seemed scene-appropriate, you tried your best to forget being a horny teenager to instead play a horny teenager. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Caliban’s voice lowered, a smile still tugging at his lips as he took your hands in his own. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim.” Your own voice softened in turn as Caliban began to trace mindless patterns on the backs of your hands with his thumbs, “lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Caliban’s eyes were soft, and you imagined that Shakespeare had pictured the man in front of you when putting the words to paper. The words fell so naturally from his lips and he seemed engrossed in the scene— he was, for lack of a better word, enchanting.

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.” Your voice was hardly more than a breathless whisper, the proximity of your faces and the intimacy (however imagined) stealing the air from your lungs.

Caliban paused, his eyes meeting yours intently as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it as he took your face in both of his hands.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.”

It was all too much. You could hardly be blamed for kissing him as fiercely as you did.

It was like fireworks, like every cheesy romance novel and play (cough, Romeo and Juliet) claimed it would be. You’d had plenty of kisses before, but never one that melted your brain like this. You forgot all about the scene, about how not real this was supposed to be as your hands tangled in his windswept hair and he pulled you onto his lap.

It was Caliban who first pulled away, only just so that your noses were touching. He was breathing heavily, eyes blown wide— and you felt your whole face turn red as reality consumed you again. “I am so sorry, I’ll just—”

“Where do you think you’re going, Juliet?” Caliban’s hands firmly gripped your hips, preventing you from moving away. His fingers thumbed the band of your skirt, and his next words were a whisper against your lips.

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

kissed her for the first time yesterday

everything i wished that it would be

suddenly i forgot how to speak

hopeless, breathless, baby can't you see?

Caliban was in love. He’d spent the next three weeks with you reciting Romeo and Juliet, sharing shakes at Dr. Cerberus, and tugging you into empty classroom and closets at every opportunity to kiss you senseless. Every moment not spent with you was at least somewhat occupied by the thought of you, and Caliban found he wasn’t the least bit upset about it.

And Sabrina was pissed.

If she’d hated him before, she positively loathed him now. It was the latest point of contention between yourself and your darling cousin, who’d you taken to threatening with various kitchen utensils and promises to tell the aunties she’d been sneaking out to make her behave. And Caliban, for his part, was perfectly polite— even though he still had every intention of taking the throne from the inexperienced witch who promised to destroy the balance of heaven and hell.

Which presented Caliban’s own latest dilemma. He was going to have to tell you eventually— and in a way that didn't make you totally hate him. He had a plan. Okay, maybe a skeletal plan. Or no plan. Yeah, Caliban was going to wing it.

After today. He just had to make it through your reenactment of Romeo and Juliet with no demonic catastrophes or maiming Blly, and then he would tell you everything.

But even that was too much to ask.

Sabrina burst through the english classroom doors, yelling in barely concealed panic that there was a BIG problem and the principal needed Caliban now.

Caliban moved to leave with an apologetic smile in your direction, which you were absolutely not having. Despite your current frustration with Sabrina, she looked downright terrified, and you were both concerned for your cousin and overwhelmed with a gut feeling that something was up.

After a few moments, you excused yourself to use the restroom.

You hauled ass to the gym, where the screaming sounded to be coming from. When you entered, you were met with the strangest sight.

The gym was filled with winged... rats? And at the center of the chaos was Sabrina and Caliban, back to back and armed with what appeared to be lacrosse sticks. Caliban’s shirt was tattered from the rats, and you took a fraction of a second to banish the completely innappropriate and untimely thoughts from your head.

“And no one thought to call me?” You shouted angrily through the swarm, snagging a baseball bat from the rack and smacking it around with reckless abandon. Caliban hooted, laughing loudly as you took your place beside them. Rats tore at your clothes, but you were more frustrated that Sabrina had called your boyfriend (or whatever he was) over you.

“Why did you get Caliban! I was right there! Is there something wrong with you? Were you dropped on the head as a child? He’s not even from here Sabrina, he has no idea what-”

“For hell’s sake, he’s not the new kid! He’s not even from Australia! He’s a stupid clay prince from hell who is trying to take my throne and raze humanity, and his stupid plague king sent these after me, and now he’s dating you!” Sabrina spat out the word dating as if it was even more disgusting than the winged vermin tearing at your clothes.

“Will someone please explain what the hell is going on here?”

You were no less frustrated when Sabrina revealed her trek to hell and the all ensuing madness she’d partaken in, but you remained calm enough to not turn the bat on her clearly empty skull.

“And you’re the clay prince of hell... challenging her throne?” You questioned with a sharp glance at Caliban, who nodded reluctantly as he swatted a rat hurtling towards you.

“Do you even have a driver’s license!” You screamed, waving your baseball bat around wildly.

“I’m a demon prince of hell made out of clay, and you’re worried about if I can legally drive?” Caliban shouted back in astonishment through the wave of shrieking rats. The lacrosse stick he’d snagged was surprisingly effective.

“I was getting to that part, thank you for reminding me!” You hissed, debating whether to smash his face in with the bat. “How about we start with how you completely lied to me, and how our whole relationship or whatever it is a lie! Were you ever going to tell me? Or was this all part of some throne grab?”

“It wasn’t a lie!” Caliban demanded hotly. “You were not a lie!”

“Really!” You whirled on him, eyes alight with anger. “Because I sure feel like one!”

The rats numbers were dwindling rapidly, and you smacked the last one heading towards you directly at Caliban’s face. It collided with a satisfying shriek, and you threw your bat down as you stormed out of the gym.

Sabrina and Caliban rushed after you, but you’d disappeared in the hall.

now i'm, yeah, oh!

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

now i'm hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again, (oh)

love bug again

You’d remained collected until you’d transported into the middle of the living room, collapsing into auntie Hilda’s arms in a puddle of tears as you told her everything. She’d muttered a stream of ancient curses about Sabrina, but beyond that merely smoothed your hair and told you that all boys were awful— especially demonic princes of hell.

“I hate him.” You glared half-heartedly into your cup of steaming peppermint tea. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid. Falling blindly in love with a stranger who had only sought you out for some elaborate game with Sabrina. Screw Caliban and his perfect hair, his perfect smile, his perfect— “I want to bash his face in.”

“No you don't, love.” Hilda smiled knowingly. “You’re angry, yes— and hurt. But you care for the boy. I’ve never seen you so happy as you’ve been these last few days. I think you ought to cool down and hear what he has to say.”

“I never want to talk to him again.” You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “I’d rather die.”

And because the universe was truly conspiring against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Well, best get over that quick.” Hilda warned, ignoring your stream of indignant protests as she hustled to the door.

“Caliban! Yes, do come in love. Oh, yes, we will be having a little chat later, but for now I think it’s my niece you must be speaking to.” Hilda’s cheerful voice trailed in from the foyer, and you jumped up to make a break for it.

You were halted by a familiar pair of strong arms tugging you back by the waist.

“Get off of me!” You shouted, pushing Caliban away harshly and ignoring the warmth that lingered where he’d touched you. “I want my baseball bat. Somebody get me my baseball bat! I’m going to bash your stupid pretty face in you asshole—”

“Five minutes.” Caliban pleaded desperately, “just give me a five minutes to explain, and then I’ll give you back the baseball bat to bash my face in, okay?”

You considered his offer for a moment, swallowing the sob crawling its way up your throat as you nodded reluctantly. If it made him leave faster, you’d do anything.

His shoulder sagged in barely concealed relief. “Okay. I am Caliban, Prince of Hell. I am not from Australia, clearly, and am not a transfer student. I am trying to take your cousin’s throne. She does not understand the realm of the damned— she thinks it needs to be generous, rather than a fair judgment of life. I am not her father, and I do not believe in reckless or cruel damnation. I do not wish any harm on Sabrina, and I’ve managed to keep the worst of the plague kings from her. Even if you were to reject me now, I would continue to try to protect her— you have my word.” Caliban paused as you released a breath you did not know you were holding. Your eyes finally dared to meet his, and you nodded for him to continue.

“I agreed to attend Greendale because yes, it did piss off Sabrina, but you were there.” He raised his hand to halt your protest. “You intrigued me, and I wanted to know you better. I will be fully honest that it had the added bonus of irritating your cousin, who I so delight in irritating, but my primary focus was you. You... enchanted me. I had never found myself so invested in anything before as I was in spending mundane days at high school— of all things— with you. Truthfully, it confused even me at first. And while the past you knew is false, I am real— and my feelings for you are true.”

“That is such bullshit, and you know it!” You exploded furiously, smacking his chest with untamed rage. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Who agrees to go to high school because they like a girl? Are you unhinged? Who doesn't just ask someone out if they were so interested, huh? No, you came here with your stupidly perfect little ‘oh I’m Caliban, and I’m so dreamy’ act, knowing full well that it would make me completely abandon all rationality. Well guess what, I did! I fell stupid head over heels for you, and it was all one big lie.”

Your voice broke on the last few words, anger shifting to broken sadness as you continued to pound relentlessly on his chest. “I was a lie.”

He caught your hands, holding them against his chest as he pressed you against the wall. “You weren't a lie, Spellman.”

His words were breathless whisper, his beautiful eyes pained and desperate as he gripped your hands harder. “I fell for you the moment I saw you. I enrolled in high school because you smiled at me. I learned every line of Romeo and Juliet to recite them to you. When we first met, you wondered how Romeo and Juliet could possibly fall in love after a mere few days, but I understand it now. I have never been driven so completely insane by anything or anyone like this before. The power you have over me is unmatched. I am completely and wholly yours. If you were to ask me right now to leave, to never bother you again, I would leave my heart with you and spend my eternity in endless sorrow. I would think forever of the way you smiled at me, the way you kissed me, how soft your hair felt in my hands, and how my heart raced every time you laughed. I would never forgive myself for the pain I had caused you, and you would haunt me every day, every waking moment, every dream.”

Caliban moved your hands to his lips, nearly kissing them as he pleaded to you with tears in his beautiful eyes. You were motionless, turned to stone by his heavy gaze.

“So please, don’t become my specter. If I am a stranger to you now, let me make you fall for me all over again. I would do it a thousand times, if you'd let me. I could think of no sweeter way to spend my eternity.”

When you’d thought that Shakespeare had been imagining Caliban when he wrote, you’d been wrong. There was no poetry, no book, no lyric that could possibly compare to the way he spoke to you— the way his eyes so desperately tried to convey his anguish.

You removed your hands from his, and his whole face seemed to shatter.

“You’re not a stranger,” you muttered softly, moving to take his face your hands. His face remained guarded, but he leaned instinctively into your touch. “You’re Caliban.”

When you kissed him, it was like falling in love all over again.

And you supposed you did.

“But we are having a long, long talk about everything.” You warned as you pulled back, poking his chest sharply as he nodded profusely. “And if you ever, ever lie to me again, I’ll set something worse than flying rats on you. I’ll let Sabrina have you.”

Caliban laughed wildly, picking you up and spinning you around as he kissed you over and over again in sheer relief and joy. “I love you, Spellman. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“I just want you, clay boy.”

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Soft Side

Pair: James Potter x Reader; he/him.

Summary: James doesn’t let his soft side show in fear of being teased and certainly doesn’t let it known that he’s been crushing on his best mates brother. But one day, it slips free, Sirius finds out and he gets to go stargazing- Not too bad.

Warnings: Cute? Lowkey trash?? I’m sorry- I tried-

Notes: So.. I had no idea what to put for the gif- so here’s this. I’ll edit this tomorrow. Pick your house!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

If there was one thing James Potter wanted to keep secret, it was his love for all things soft. Soft stuffies, soft people, soft blankets, soft sweaters- everything soft. He knew he’d be absolutely dominated by teases and jokes if his bestest of friends were to ever find out so he never let it show. That is until he met you. You managed to take his soft side and rip it from the deep confides of his soul and layer it above his loud, prankster personality. He loved and hated it. When he was with you, he just wanted to make you flower crowns or read to you during a thunderstorm by candle light.

The hardest part of all of this was you weren’t his. Not yet, anyway. You weren’t really dating anyone and chose to focus on your very important studies. While you weren’t necessarily the best friends with the group self proclaimed as the Marauders, you were blood related to Sirius, more specifically his younger brother. So that was just another kink in the chain of James’ feelings.

I mean- who could actually fall for his best friend’s brother? Bloody James Potter. He thought sourly as he gazed at you across the dining table. Sirius had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, whispering gossip to you, probably about Snivellus or maybe Remus, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was how you covered your mouth and laughed into your hand. The raven haired student could genuinely hear you laugh, have that laugh be the only noise he hears until he dies, and he’d be content, hell, even happy about it.

“So, Potter? What’s the plan for today?” Sirius spoke up, returning said males thoughts to the blank paper laid across the table. At some point, your eyes had flickered to his, and he would swear to the heavens he could see the stars sparkling in your irises- even if that’s cheesy.

“Well, I-” He closed his textbook quickly and slid it away from him. He didn’t really think this far ahead so he didn’t know. He ran his finger tips along the tan parchment that the Marauders desperately wished would show Hogwarts in its entirety to them. “I didn’t plan anything yet.”

“Boo!” Sirius called out, smirking and winking at some Ravenclaw bird that passed by the table. “Ah, come on. I thought we’d go pick on Sniv-” He let out a groan, pulling his arm away from you to wrap them around his stomach, where you’d elbowed him.

“Stop calling him that, Sirius. He’s not a bad guy, in fact, he’s just like you, greasy hair and all.” You snickered, watching your brother curl in on himself. That was another thing he really liked about you. You managed to reel Sirius back when he was going too far and control him, somehow. You were the only man Sirius ever listened too and it amazed James to such a degree. What magic did you hold that allowed you to stop this curly haired idiot and how does he get some?

“Why not, Chortle?” James smirked, trying to shove the love-sick grin that was desperate to spread across his lips down into non existence. He let out his own laugh when you kicked his shin lightly.

“Well, James, if you must know, bullying the kid for no reason is a major jerk move! Slytherin’s aren’t that bad!” You ignored James’ and Siruis’ gasp of shock. “Besides, you guys have got to stop giving everyone terrible nicknames!” You grinned at him, causing his cheeks to tint a soft pink. “All of your nicknames suck royal hippogriff!”

“That is not true and you know it!” James flicked his dry quill at you, his eyes wide in fake shock. “I am the Nickname King at this table, (Y/n)! If you don’t like it, you won’t be a part of the Marauders anymore.” He genuinely thought it was a cute nickname- your animagus was a hyena, after all. He thought it fit.

“First of all, I came up with the group name, you git! Second of all- no! Do not interrupt me! Second of all, I also came up with Moony AND Padfoot! You came up with Prongs! What the hell is a prong?” You joking yelled out, standing up and leaning on the table to poke his nose. James felt his blush double and was really praying no one noticed, but judging by the way Sirius was smirking at him, he knew. James’ eyes jumped between your brothers smirk and your dizzying smile.

“Well, I came up with Chortle.” James chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to ignore how his heart was speeding up in his chest. Please stop being cute- James let out a silent sigh of relief when you finally sat down and hoped your brother was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. The odds were not in James’ favor.

“Yeah, and it’s Gods awful, Prongs.” Sirius spoke up, leaning over the table some. “Maybe something like ‘love’ is more fitting for him, hmm?”

“Watch it, Padfoot.” James spat out, his hands curling into fists under the table. This was what he didn’t want. He didn’t want Sirius knowing or Remus knowing and definitely didn’t want you know he was absolutely smitten over you. You’d probably laugh at him, or hate him, or never speak to him again and he couldn’t handle that.

“What? I’m just trying to help my best mate notice the obvious cru-” Sirius shut up the exact moment James slammed his hands down on the wooden table.

“Shut it, Sirius.” He spat out again before throwing one leg over the bench, followed by the other and storming out of the dining hall, shoving his way right past Remus, who had just walked close to the table. He ignored the soft brunette's call after him and the echoing ‘what did you do?” made by the same voice. He ran his hands through his hair as he walked out of the school. “Bullocks- that- Ugh- mangy dog-” He grumbled to himself as he strutted across the courtyard, ignoring the swooning birds on the sidelines and heading straight down the stone steps to the Black Lake.

The young male in specks made a beeline straight toward the weeping willow, successfully ducking to avoid a branch before poking the knot on the bark to help it relax. He leaned against the harsh bark, his gaze casted over the reflective water. He let out a sigh, finding the harsh rays of sun far to warm for his liking. He took off his Gryffindor robe, throwing it onto one of the lower hanging branches before pulling his sweater over his head, forcing his glasses to become askew.

Once they were fixed, he set the setter next to the robe and allowed gravy to pull him to the ground. He crossed his legs into a knot as he rolled up his sleeves, still trying to actively avoid the unforgiving warmth. The male was just happy the tree was providing a nice spot of shade for him to relax under. He pushed his glasses up again, a sigh leaving his lips while he pressed his back against the bark.

“Hey.”

James whipped his head around, seeing you kind of popping out from beside the tree with a smile that had his heart stopping.

“Hey! Wha- um- What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be reading or studying or doing some academic even though you get the best marks of our year?” As he spoke, his head slowly lifted and his back straightened up away from the wood; he didn’t want you thinking he was a slob. His brown eyes jumped around behind the lenses, before they settled on your absolutely captivating (e/c) ones. His eyes followed yours as you sat down next to him, shedding your house robe to relieve the warmth you were also feeling. He found himself staring at your cute lips and even cuter pink cheeks. Oh, Merlin, he had it bad. Under the shady tree, it felt hotter the closer you got to his side.

“Oh, well, I felt bad for Siri being an absolute twat and decided to apologize for him. So, I’m sorry on his behalf.” You spoke up, plucking a rock free from the dirt and casually throwing it to the water, enjoying the ripple it created. While your gaze was on the lake, his was glued to his cheeks. He took in a stuttering breath before boldly wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you to his side.

“You didn’t have too, Chortle! I’m all set!” He casted a smirk in your direction, praying to Merlin his heart wasn’t audible from his ribcage. His eyes widened when the blush across your face increased ten fold. “You ok?”

“Huh?” You turned toward him, your eyes mimicking a doe’s in pure innocence. “Oh! Yeah, I’m good, just um- Warm!” You couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. God, they reminded you of the forest, not that you’d admit it to his face. He was struggling to turn away from your gaze as well. He felt his lungs physically stop moving when your eyes glanced down at his semi parted lips before popping back up to his, all of it happened so fast.

“Caaann I help?” James found himself leaning in more, a genuine smile coming up to his lips. He subconsciously tightened his arm around your shoulder, his own eyes flicking down to your lips like it was some kind of signal that he prayed would mean something.

“I think you might be able too, yeah.” You whispered, leaning up ever so slightly. At this point, James’ noose was almost touching yours and he was wondering if you could see your reflection in his glasses, because he could see his own in your eyes. He wanted to say he moved in closer and connected your lips, but he couldn’t say for sure. Judging by how poorly you both actually aimed, you both surged forward. Despite James being desperate for the feeling of your lips against his, the kiss remained softer than silk. His hand cupped your cheek, gently sliding your lips to press against his more effectively

James pulled away, his grin from before growing wider. His thumb ran across your red cheek. He reached for your hand with his spare one and grasped it as if it was an injured butterfly.

“How long?” His voice was quiet, but sounded almost too loud compared to the gentle silence surrounding the two of you. “When?” He had so many questions, but wanted to focus on the most important ones.

“2 years now; since you and Sirius turned that one Slytherin statue red and gold.” You let out a soft giggle and leaned into the touch. James realized at this moment you were the softest member of your house and it only had him swooning harder for you.

“Godric, I love you, (Y/n).” He let out a snort when your eyes widened. “What?” He let go of your cheek and opted for pulling you into his side, effectively starting a snuggle session.

“Nothing! Just thought you forgot my name. I’m glad you didn’t!” You played with the males fingers. The seeker could never have forgotten your name. It echoed in his dreams, he saw it written in stars, and he heard it everywhere he turned. He literally couldn’t escape it.

“I’d never forget the name of my love.” Forever the smooth talker. He smiled wider when you let out another bunch of giggles. He would never get tired of that sound. The two of you jumped when someone coughed. You both turned to see Remus and Sirius standing just off to the side, right outside of your peripheral vision.

“Hey! What happened to Marauders before my baby brother?” Sirius put his hands on his waist, a knowing smile spread across his lips. James groaned. He’d rather deal with a Devil's Snare.

“I’m not your baby brother!” You cried out, your face turning redder than ever. You threw a small rock at your brother, watching it bounce pathetically off his chest. “Merlin.” You grumbled, curling into James’ side.

“Siri, be happy for them!” Remus hit the males chest with a book. “At least it’s out and they can stop swooning in secret.” The werewolf turned back to the new couple. “Besides, they’re cute together.” He stated before walking off, dragging Sirius away by his sleeve.

“Wait, no, I’m not done teasing my little brother!”

“Yes, you are. Did you know James had a soft side though?”

The pair of voices faded as they walked back up the stone steps, allowing the couple to watch the lake reflect the beautiful scenery around it and just chat. The couple didn’t move until the stars replaced the sun and every constellation had been pointed out in the night sky. Sure, it was past curfew, but neither cared. They had each other.

#james potter x male reader #james potter imagine #james potter #hp imagine #hp x male reader #hp marauders #marauders x male reader #marauders imagine #sirius balck #remus lupin #male reader #x male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

424 notes · View notes

skullrock · 4 years

Text

the captain

pairing: Steve x Hagan!Reader

request: Can I please request a fluffy fic where Steve falls for Tommy H’s sister? She stops by Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream and they go all “Oh, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other” kind of? I love your writing so much 🥺

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Steve being Big Idiot, mentions of T*mmy H*gan

a/n: tommy’s party by peach pit intensifies in my head

===

“We’re out of sea-berry.”

Robin doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”

Steve grabs the empty container from the display case and nearly chucks it in her direction. “We - are out - of sea-berry.” He chucks it dramatically into the trash and throws his hat on the counter, then leans forward to rest his head in his hands.

“Steve, it’s just ice cream,” Robin says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I am having a bad day.”

Robin’s brows knit together. “Because we’re out of sea-berry?”

“It’s not about the ice cream, Robin,” he says, lifting his head to glare at her. “It’s about working at a shitty minimum wage job with this stupid hat and my arms hurt from scooping stupid ice cream for stupid customers.”

Robin puts her book down and sighs, hopping off the counter. She claps Steve’s shoulder and he bristles at the feeling. “Hey, slinging ice cream isn’t stupid.”

“Oh?” he asks. “In this - in this costume?” Steve tugs at his shirt. “You don’t think this job is stupid?”

Robin winces. “Spoiled,” she mumbles, and leans against the back counter. “How’s the girl thing coming along?”

Steve sighs loudly, dramatically, and leans against the cooler, back to the seating area. “How do you think?”

“I haven’t kept track today, but knowing your record, not good.”

“I give up!” he cries out, throwing his hands up. “I give up. The - the - God or whatever - wants me to suffer. I am fruitless.” He stares at the ground and crosses his arms. “My dad’s trying to teach me a lesson on being responsible and the universe is trying to teach me a lesson on being - I don’t know.”

“Not an asshole?”

Steve winces now, eyes trained on his shoelaces. “Yeah, maybe.”

Robin sighs, feeling some pity for the boy in front of her. “Look, you only have a few more hours, okay? Just make it til then.”

Just make it til then. Steve can do that, he thinks.

And then you come into the store.

Steve does a double take, looking up from the to-do list he’s reading for the fiftieth time that day. His brows furrow and he goes a bit slack-jawed, shocked to see you. He hadn’t seen you in forever - since junior year, at least. He hadn’t even thought about you; Tommy and all things related had been forcefully eradicated from his mind. But he knows you from anywhere - knows the freckles and hair, knows your smile. Knows the laugh you share with a friend before you walk into the store, alone, playing with your wallet.

Steve continues to stare with his mouth agape as you approach, and you also do a double-take. You remember Steve - of course you remember Steve. He was all you thought about while Tommy was close with him. You’d begged your brother two things your whole life - to stop being a dick and to get Steve to go on a date with you.

Of course, he did neither.

But you’re grown up now, more confident and less desperate for a date. Still, despite the growth, you’re completely smitten. Steve’s even cuter now, has grown into himself. His hair, salon-highlighted, bounces as you both make eye contact. You remember the moles on his neck, his hands, his eyes - god, his eyes, warm and brown and always kind even when Steve wasn’t. And he was kind, to you, at least. You could always see past the bullshit facade. You knew who he was, deep down. You knew him as a quiet boy at the pool, the one who said please and thank you to your mother, the one who shoved Tommy when Tommy was mean to you. He always wanted to make you laugh, no matter what. You just felt comfortable with him.

You realize at this point that you’ve stopped walking and you blush as your feet begin to work again.

“Look who it is,” you say, smiling widely. “The one that got away.”

Steve smiles despite not understanding the joke. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

“Been a long time,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me what happened. I just knew I wasn’t going to see you anymore.”

Steve stiffens a bit at the mention of Tommy, but he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you know -”

“I do know,” you say. “I wish I could lose Tommy and Carol.”

“I guess I got lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, guess you did,” you say, eyes trained on his. “And I got unlucky. I missed you.”

Steve perks up a bit, but his brows twitch together. “You missed me?”

“I - yeah,” you stutter, blushing. “Yeah. You were always cool and nice to me.”

Steve’s smile widens and he leans against the counter, clasping his hands together. “Yeah? Well, maybe I missed you, too.”

“Really?”

“You were fun,” he says, “and I think we connected because deep down, we both hated your brother.”

“And Carol.”

“And Carol,” he laughs. “God, remember when they made me have a pool party? And you and I went inside and played Monopoly for hours while they made out at the pool?”

You laugh, too. “Jesus Christ, your pool probably has mono.”

“Probably.”

You both stare at each other a little longer before you clear your throat. “So - ice cream? What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”

“Lucky you,” he says, straightening. “Well, we’re out of sea-berry -”

Robin sighs behind him and he turns to glare at her, not enjoying the audience, but whips back around to you. “But we have other flavors.”

“Oh, boy,” you say, your smile starting to hurt your face. “Lay ‘em on me.”

Steve takes you through each flavor, dramatically reciting what they are and what the selling point is, handing you a small spoon for each one. You really don’t care to taste them all, but you care about talking to him - you care about your fingers brushing every time he hands you a sample, how his eyes light up when he laughs, how dorky he looks and sounds.

“We also have sundaes and stuff,” he says, “which I can also attempt to sell to you.”

“Do you make this much of an effort every time you make a sale?”

“No, just for you.”

You both blush but the smiles stay, and Robin is nearly gagging behind Steve because it’s frankly disgusting to watch straight people flirt.

“What do you usually get?” you ask. “I think I trust your judgement.”

“I don’t give this place my money,” he says, “but when I steal, I always get the USS Butterscotch.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What is it called?”

“Look, I didn’t name it!”

You laugh. “I bet you didn’t pick your uniforms, either.”

Steve snorts. “No way, I’d pick something much nicer -”

“What, like a pastel striped polo?” Robin quips from behind him.

Steve whips around again and opens his mouth to retaliate, but you say, “I think it looks good on you.”

He turns to look at you, head inclined as if to say yeah, right. “No, I look stupid.”

“No!” you protest. “It’s really nice. The color is nice on you.”

Steve can’t stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “And it really shows off your arms and legs.”

At this point, Robin gets up and walks to the back, leaving you and Steve alone. Finally.

“What about my arms and legs needs shown off?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

“Like I don’t know what?”

“That you’re cute.”

Had Steve been drinking, he would have done a spit-take.

“I mean - like - uh. Like - you’re - conventionally. Attractive,” you add, anxiety gripping your veins. “Like. You know.”

Steve smirks. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” you say, leaning across the cooler to tug on his ascot. “You know you’re attractive. That was your one personality trait.”

Steve pouts. “Hey -”

“I’m kidding,” you say, pushing him a bit before leaning back to your side of the cooler. “I’d like a - whatever you said earlier.”

Steve whips his scooper out and twirls it in his hand before getting to work. You smile as you wait, watching him do everything very dramatically and with flair. He turns and produces the concoction to you, gesturing towards it theatrically before handing it to you.

“How much?” you ask, reaching for your wallet again.

“No way,” he says, crinkling his nose. “You’re not paying.”

Your shoulders drop and you frown. “Steve, come on -”

“It’s on me. I like to steal from this place.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Like Robin Hood.”

“Sure,” he says, not knowing who that is. “Like Robin Hood.”

“This better be good,” you say. “Because I’m not coming back if it sucks.”

“That’s too bad,” he pouts, leaning against the cooler. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you outside of work, then.”

You raise a brow and smile, grabbing the spoon in your dish. “Let’s see.”

You slowly take a bite. It’s actually pretty good, but you want to see Steve somewhere else.

“It sucks,” you say. “Worst thing I’ve ever had.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “I guess that means I’ll have to meet you at the movies tomorrow at eight?”

“I guess so,” you say, trying to suppress a smile. “What a bummer.”

Steve smiles fondly. “What a bummer.”

After a few moments of intense eye-contact, the bell at the counter rings, signifying Erica Sinclair’s entrance. Steve sighs and grits his teeth, looking back at you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m very glad you came in here.”

“Me too,” you smile. “Tomorrow? Eight? Movies.”

“Tomorrow, eight, movies,” he repeats, nodding, and you smile wider at how his hair bobs over his forehead as he does.

“Sailor Man!”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, sending you one last smile before going towards the register.

===

“That was so gross,” Robin scoffs. “You guys - ugh. For fifteen minutes!”

Steve smugly smiles at her. He walks towards her board and grabs her marker, dramatically drawing a ‘I’ on his side of the board. “I rule.”

“This time,” Robin says, unable to hide her smile. “This time, you rule.”

===

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

Bad, evil, rotten lovers

Pairing: Spike x vampire!reader

Request: Hey there! Could you write a spike x reader thing, where they have been friends/together since being humans and both have problems to hide their giddy and fluufy relationship from the scoobys and trz to act all dark and tough?

Requested By: Anonymous

A/N: I enjoyed this request - hope you like what I’ve done with it!

For some reason I always default to season 4, not sure what’s up with that (it’s not even my favourite season) so I challenged myself with this request! We’re set in season 2 today with an ‘evil’ spike/reader.

You were never part of his usual crowd. You had been visiting the area he lived with his mother for only a brief period, staying with a distant relative but William had become instantly smitten with you. You had both got on so beautifully and when he had been missing for a while it had really hurt you, he had been the only one you cared about there. He loved you and you had been fast falling for him, he had even suggested that he would ask permission to begin courting you. So, when he went missing there was a hole in your heart. That was, until he came back for you, tapping on your window one fateful night. And that, as they say, is history. You had been sired and luckily the qualities he loved about you hadn’t changed and you fell in love outside of society’s strict code with neither of you looking back (unless you were reminiscing of course).

That was then, but now you and Spike were walking through a graveyard in Sunnydale. You had maintained a reluctant truce with the Scoobies to get rid of Angelus, secretly you liked the strange little group of kids but you would never tell them, or Spike. Angelus was starting to annoy you and your love, he had gotten into the whole Slayer killing, which was Spike’s thing. All that seemed to calm him down from his irritation was you, he really loved you which was lucky because you matched this love. You had taken to walking aimlessly at night, to get out of the mansion and strengthen Spike’s legs after being stuck in his wheelchair in front of Angelus. Your late night walks were where you could both discuss your frustration and maybe kiss a little between the gravestones. He had draped his leather duster over your shoulders, knowing you weren’t affected by the cold but wanting you to have it.

He had paused to gaze at you softly under the moonlight, the look he had given you all those decades ago. The first time you met at a society function. He had been so earnest back then, almost shy, now he was only like that with you alone. You liked it this way – you got the best of him. You had both apparently been reminded of the same thing, as he spoke his thoughts out loud.

“I remember practicing over and over, reciting long lines of wanting before I asked…” he referred to the night he asked you to be his.

“Sweetie! Your poetry still makes me blush, and I have no circulation!” You grinned at him as he appeared to duck his head slightly and you embraced him in a hug.

“Please don’t pull away, pet… not yet” he mumbled to you, as you started to move, but your embrace was unfortunately cut short as you both heard an almost inaudible whisper.

“Poetry?” Buffy and Xander had mouthed in confusion, both looking at each other. Xander raised an eyebrow, holding up a cross as you started to walk closer to them. This has to be a trick right? You were both evil and evil doesn’t write poetry or have cute pet names… do they? Buffy got in a stance ready to fight as you both finally noticed them.

“Well, well if it isn’t Betty the vampire layer” Spike smirked as you cackled, making sure to allow your most menacing scowl for the slayer.

“You know how many Slayers Spike’s killed? Two, soon to be three isn’t that right?” You bragged as Spike nodded along.

“Currently, you’re working with us though, sweetie” Buffy mocked. You both postured, starting to speak over each other in your haste to maintain just how bad you both were. You finally stopped as the slayer raised an eyebrow and started tapping her toe as if she were bored of your very evil tales.

Eventually Buffy and the boy walked away, having set your plan out for later. You both walked on, hand-in-hand, through another graveyard. Eventually you slipped your hand from his, a sparkle in your eye as you plotted. As spike was explaining something, he didn’t notice you slip away and hide behind a gravestone waiting to see how long it would take him to notice. He only noticed when he heard a soft giggle from behind one of the gravestones and his face melted as he realised. He wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed your impromptu games of hide-and-seek amongst the gravestones. He started to prowl through the stones, looking for any sign of you. He softly narrated where he was going, to see if he could make you giggle and give yourself away.

“Come here… big bad’s gonna eat… you… up�� he whirled around at the last word, eyes locking with yours as you squealed and he scooped you up before you could run.

“You found me!” You cheered as he pulled you by your middle and held you to him.

“I’ll always find you, pet” He said, cupping your cheek softly. It was as if he were staring into your soul, even though neither of you had one. His cold blue eyes sparkled as you stared back, a smile on your lips. You could recall it all, you wouldn’t share the rest of your un-life with anyone else.

“Sweet William, you always know the right things to say to me!” You matched his soft almost-smile as he leaned into you, your lips meeting in small, soft kisses that turned slow and sweet. Your hands ran through his bleached hair as you both smiled into the kiss, reluctantly cutting it short. He was about to carrying on walking but you grabbed his shirt sleeve, “Wait! One more kiss, for luck!” you asked enthusiastically, and he smiled, pulling you in softly once more. Willow walked over to you, but neither of you were really paying attention to her, she must have gotten separated from the others. The young girl was too trusting, having spoken to you more than once without so much as a stake for protection. A small cough interrupted your kiss, she was clearing their throat and you both jumped in surprise before slowly turning to see Willow watching you both. Spike coughed, trying to show he hadn’t just jumped and almost yelped in shock at the tiny human.

“What do you want, little red? Never heard of the things that go bump in the night?”

“Y-yeah, we’re gonna eat you up after we all get rid of Angelus” you insisted. The girls pulse barely changed and you and Spike looked at each other. Willow wasn’t convinced you both were as bad as you say you were, especially since the truce. The girl was in a fluffy pink jumper, she looked like a marshmallow and her personality appeared to match the ensemble. You and Spike looked at each other, growling at her before deciding to head back before the sun rose.

Back at the mansion, you were sat on Spike’s lap as he wheeled you both into the room. He was still keeping up the pretence that his legs weren’t working. You were sitting sideways on his lap and you looped your arms around his neck, snuggling into his chest as he stopped in the centre of the room.

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” You smiled, “Close your eyes!”

“Love-” he started, but did it anyway, for you.

“Hold your hand out, palm up” You asked and when he closed his eyes and did it, you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers with his with a wide grin. He peeked and looked down at your hand and smiled, moving your entwined hands up to his lips so he could kiss the back of your hand. You giggled and he smiled that smile that was only for you.

“I’ve always liked the way your hand fits in mine, pet” You both got lost in each other’s eyes, a soft smile as your hands held onto each other. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead when a voice startled you both.

“H-has anybody told you that you’re kinda sweet together?” A small voice interrupted from the corner. You almost jumped, you had forgotten that spike had grabbed the little witch as your tasty snack for later when the Slayer inevitably double-crossed you both. She was tied up in the corner and you had forgotten. Even spike looked a little sheepish that you had been caught being so soft together.

“We’re not sweet!”

“We are evil, nasty creatures of the night!” Spike pointed threateningly at Willow, wheeling himself towards her as you got up from his lap.

“We’re bad! Rotten to our core!” You insisted, Spike had changed into his vamp face to prove your points. She just looked away and moved further into the corner.

“You couldn’t even dream of the horrible things that we’ve done!” You shouted, frowning, your eyes flashing amber, “The terrors that we have inflicted on entire cities!”

“Y-yeah you are evil, you’re j-just sweet to each other” she corrected herself. You and Spike gazed at each other before you were snapped out of it once more.

“Quit playing with your food, the Slayer’s here!” Angelus ordered to you both from another room. You both looked at each other, shrugged and grabbed Willow along too. This was going to be interesting.

#spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine #spike btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs oneshot #vampire reader #gender neutral reader #requested #anonymous request #btvs #Angelus #Angel Btvs #Buffy Summers #Willow Rosenberg #Xander Harris #fluff

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chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

Bound To You - Chapter 15: One Last Chapter - Part 2

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 12,079

Overall Word Count: 128,757

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - Complete (15/15)

Chapter Preview:

Dean wasn’t listening to Rowena’s snide comments anymore. Hell, he wasn’t listening to much of anything anymore. Not the gentle whisper of the winds as it moves through the trees, nor the scratching rustle of the leaves catching against one another by said wind; or the beautiful melodies of birds as they flew over their heads, darting between the trees and over the top of the canopy.

There was only one thing that deserved his attention right now.

And that was Cas.

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The sun was beginning its descent, soon to kiss the horizon and transfer the sky’s beautiful colors of sunset to the dark of night, lit by a sprinkling of stars that would be shining over them before they knew it. Not that they would need the stars; Sam’s handiwork with the lanterns had practically created a mini version of the night sky above them, the flickering lights of the candles almost mesmerizing dotted around the tree canopy hanging over them.

“It’s beautiful,” Jack says next to Dean, a whimsical smile stretched across his face as he cranes his neck to look up at the canopy above them.

Dean huffs a laugh, looking down at his recently polished dress shoes as they push through the thin layer of leaves that had dropped to the forest floor. “Yeah... Sam did a good job setting everything up.”

Their pace as they move up the aisle was slow and easy, just taking the time to drink in the beautiful and calm environment that surrounded them. Jack tears his gaze away from the minimal decorations, glancing up to Dean as they continue forward. “Dean... can I ask you something?”

“Course you can,” Dean answered. “Although, I would have thought as God that you know everything anyway?”

“Not everything,” Jack replies brightly, “About Cas... what made you change your mind?”

A confused frown pinched at Dean’s brow, the two coming to a stop near the end of the aisle, just before the drooping willow tree. “Changed my mind on what?”

“Wanting to be with him,” Jack said. “I never really understood before... In that, I mean... When I was born, I understood what love was... I loved my mom, and I loved Cas from the moment he laid a hand on my mother’s womb. And then, as I got to know you and Sam, I knew of the love of friendship – one powerful enough to turn into family, but...” Jack paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe the memories in his mind. “I saw you and Sam, and I knew that was family love, like I have for my mom, and for Cas. I saw that same love between Sam and Cas, too. And all of you and Mary. Back then, when you were... you were so angry, and in so much pain, and I knew it was because you had lost Cas. And I thought I understood that pain, because... because I felt that pain in knowing he was gone, too. I thought that we loved him the same way, but then... then I brought him back, and I saw.”

Dean swallowed nervously, shuffling on the spot at Jack’s intense gaze. “What, uh... what did you see?”

“A different type of love,” Jack said. “Cas was back, and it was like... like you were back, too. You became a completely different person, and I realized I was seeing the true Dean for the first time. The pain radiating from you became more bearable, and... in that cowboy motel was the first time I saw you smile. Cas made you happy, and you made Cas happy, too. And when I realized that you and Cas were the different type of love, I... I expected for things to change. But they never did. Until now.”

Dean’s smile turned sad at the genuine questioning in Jack’s expression. His attention was momentarily distracted by the sight of Sam trudging through the woods towards them, the ends of his suit flapping in the wind as he hurries over to them. “Let’s just say me and Cas have never done things the ‘normal’ way. I never even knew Cas felt the way he did, and me... well, I was too blind to see it myself. Cas was always my best friend, and that was as far as I could see. I didn’t let myself think about seeing Cas as something more until I knew that was something he wanted, and... I dunno. It all sort of clicked that it was something I wanted, too.”

“Hey-,” Sam reached their side just as Dean finished talking, sounding slightly out of breath from his fast-paced walk from the bunker over to them. “-We might have to make a change of plans.”

“What for?” Dean asked.

“Rowena’s still not shown up,” Sam answers. “She did accept the invite, right?”

“Yep. She even wrote on the back of the invitation saying she’d bring some bagpipes and play a ‘traditional piece’ for us.”

Sam could only blink at Dean for a few moments. “Are you... are you joking right now, or...?”

“I’m being dead serious.”

“Okay, well uh... we’re running out of time here. Eileen messaged me not too long ago, said Cas and Claire is ready to start heading up here and she’ll be up here herself any second-,”

Sam was interrupted by the sight of Eileen appearing out in the distance, weaving through the thick coverage of trees as she makes her way towards them. Dean tried his best to smother his laughter at the downright smitten look on his brother’s face at the sight of Eileen in the light gray, ankle-length dress that Claire had picked out for the both of them to be wearing, having to pull up the ends of the dress as she walks to avoid dragging it through the soil and leaves on the ground.

Eileen’s steps faltered at the sight of the extra person she initially did not recognize. It was only because of Sam and Dean’s relaxed posture around the stranger that she did not immediately suspect that something was amiss. Then, as she got closer, did she recognize the face of the boy Sam had shown her one evening on his phone; recognizing the same warm smile of the boy stuffing homemade burgers into his face as the one on the boy standing next to Dean.

“Hello!” The boy's tone held the same warmth as his smile did, along with the enthusiastic wave he gave in greeting.

“Eileen - this is Jack,” Dean gave introductions, gesturing from Eileen to Jack. “Jack, I’m assuming you already know who Eileen is?”

“Yes - but this is the first time we’re meeting face to face,” Jack replies, the kind smile on his face never once faltering. “I’m sorry, I... I don’t know sign language yet...”

“That’s okay,” Eileen assured him. “I can read lips.”

“I thought God knew everything...” Dean mumbled discreetly under his breath as if the powerful being stood next to him wouldn't be able to pick up even the quietest of whispers.

“How’s Cas and Claire doing?” Sam asked Eileen.

“Should be here in about ten minutes,” Eileen said. Her eyes ran over all three who stood in front of her, quickly realizing the problem at hand. “Um... aren’t we missing our officiant?”

“That we are,” Sam answered, his lips tightening into a straight line of concern. “I suppose if it comes down to it, I’ll have to fill in. Not much to it, right? Not like we’re doing this the usual way...”

“And let you butcher it, Samuel? I don’t think so.”

Dean would have sworn in his surprise if he wasn’t so damn thankful to hear that Scottish melody of an accent behind him. He spun around on the spot, finding Rowena stood a few meters behind him; dressed in a distractingly bright red dress that matched the ruby rose color of her lipstick, with her fiery shade of hair pulled up into a neat and classy bun atop her head.

“What time do you call this?” Dean joked, putting on his best fake pissed glare, that of which immediately cracked into a joking smile.

“I call it being fashionably late,” Rowena fired back, her eyes sliding over to Sam and Eileen next to Dean. “You clean up well, Samuel.”

Rowena’s compliment left Sam blushing the same red as Rowena’s dress. “And don’t worry dear, I’m not trying to steal your man.” She added at Eileen’s questioning glare, sending the young woman a knowing wink that had Eileen blushing alongside Sam.

“Hello again, Jack,” Rowena greeted Jack, who was still standing patiently next to Dean.

“Again?” Dean questioned, gesturing with his index finger between the two. “You two have met?”

“Aye, not long after our new Lord ascended to his throne,” Rowena answered. “We came to an agreement, so to speak. A nice little deal.”

Dean didn’t like that word. ‘Deal’. In his experience, there was no such thing as a ‘nice deal’. “What kind of deal?”

“Relax – that disgustingly shiny soul of his is still in there,” Rowena rolled her eyes at Dean’s protectiveness.

“We talked about the changes to Hell,” Jack answered for Rowena. “I wanted to make sure that the only people who go to Hell are those that actually deserve it.”

“So… what does that mean?” Sam asked.

“It means that some demons are going through some career changes,” Rowena said. “No more crossroad demons – which means no more deals. Only souls that make their way down to me, are those that have tainted themselves with their own deeds.”

“You serious?” Dean asks, barely able to believe it. “The gates to Hell are closed?”

“No,” Rowena answers. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here, now would I? I may still need to send my men up here on occasion, but… not for nefarious purposes, of course. Only souls they’re allowed to rip into are those that have already been damned.”

“And… how do they like that change?” Eileen asked.

“They’ve accepted it surprisingly well,” Rowena said. “Then again, those that began speaking out were reduced to ashes, so… it’s not too surprising that they saw this option was the better one.”

“Huh… sounds like you’re running a tight shift,” Dean noted.

“That I am. Don’t exactly want to be messing up and have the Winchesters on my back, now do I?”

“Technically, only Sam for now,” Dean corrected her. “I am officially retired.”

“Oh?” Rowena said in genuine surprise, turning to the younger Winchester. “Well in that case…”

“Haha, very funny,” Sam deadpanned. “

“Right, right – I should save all the jokes for the reception,” Rowena clapped her hands joyfully, looking around the small clearing they were in. “Now, don’t we have a wedding to attend?”

* * *

Dean was gonna throw up.

Yep, that’s what that pinching feeling in his stomach was. He supposed they could be called butterflies - but only if those butterflies were armed with tiny bats and were furiously beating his insides with them.

“Am I going to have to catch you if you pass out?” Sam leaned forward from his spot as the best man to whisper into Dean’s ear, nearly getting an elbow in response from Dean, whose gaze was fixated on the aisle ahead and the – as of yet – empty expanse of forest that led up to it.

“I could help remove your nerves, if you’d like?” Jack offered, begging to step away from next to Sam to do just that.

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” Dean assured Jack, still looking out to the forest. “The nerves are good… part of the experience… they’re good nerves.”

“Could always give you a fifth of whisky…” Rowena mumbles behind Dean, stood ready in her officiating spot. “I know that calms me down.”

“Maybe it’s best we all get drunk after the wedding, not before?” Eileen suggests, the only one currently stood on Cas’s side of the alter – the privilege bestowed upon her after being declared Cas’s maid of honor (just as Dean called, he’d like to point out)

“You may be right there, lass. Then again, maybe it’s best he doesn’t drink at all. Would be a shame if he can’t get it up on his wedding night of all nights-,”

There was only one thing that deserved his attention right now.

And that was Cas.

That was his best friend, his fiancée, his soon-to-be husband, who was walking towards him; elbow linked with his surrogate daughter with matching smiles on both their faces. Claire was dressed in the same cloudy gray dress as Eileen, looking as elegant as a princess from one of those Disney films Jack made them sit down and watch once. And then Cas…

Cas was stunning.

He hadn’t even been allowed to know what Cas was going to wear. He has just sort of assumed he’d be wearing a suit like he was, especially considering the fact that Cas was always wearing a suit under that bulky trench coat of his. But then again, maybe that was the reason he hadn’t; it would probably have felt like he was in his normal, day to clothes.

Cas hasn’t gone over the top or anything. In fact, what he was wearing was pretty damn simple, but Cas made it look like the finest choice of fashion there is. His dress shirt was a crisp white, standing out amongst the vibrant greens of the forest he was walking through; his pants and shoes were probably the only thing he might have kept from his usual wardrobe, their jet black color a stark contrast to his shirt. The outfit was all brought together with a pair of black suspenders, connected to the belt loops of his pants and looped around his shoulders and down his back, and in place of his usual blue tie – which, of course, was currently tied around Dean’s neck, was a emerald green bow tie that didn’t take Dean long to realize matched the color of his eyes.

Dean was content to stand here and drink him in forever. Claire’s and Cas’s pace down the aisle was leisurely, but a part of Dean wanted it to be slower – not because he wanted to prolong his bachelorhood, no, but because he wanted to take as much time to ingrain this moment into his memory. He wanted to be old and drooling in a care home, most of his memories gone but this one always shining bright in his head, always the one to bring a gummy, denture-filled smile to his aged and wrinkled face.

Claire almost barked out a laugh when she had reached the end of the aisle, only to see Dean’s eyes fixated on Cas with the most blissed-out smile she’s ever seen. “Hey, Dean?”

That at least managed to snap Dean out of it a little, some focus coming back into his eyes as he tilts his head towards Claire. “Huh?”

“You look after this dumbass, okay?” Claire asks, getting an undignified huff from Cas. “Oh, and, if you hurt him? I will kill you. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Claire!” Cas sounded genuinely horrified by the threat.

“Claire - I ever decide to go and do something so stupid? I’ll have the shotgun loaded and ready outside the door for you to use.”

“Dean!” Castiel did not appreciate Dean spurring her violent tendencies on.

Claire and Dean shared knowing smiles before Claire unlinked her elbow from Cas, leaning up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his freshly shaven face before taking her spot next to Eileen on Cas’s side of the makeshift alter under the willow tree.

“Wow…” Dean, the master of words and expert at flirting, finds this is the only word he can say to Cas as he steps up next to him. And yet, that one word succeeds in getting a lovely blush to spread across Cas’s face, much to his delight. “You, uh, wow – you look…”

“Thank you,” Castiel saves Dean from blubbering out anymore “uh’s” and “um’s”, letting his arm brush against Dean’s as they settle into position. “You look beautiful, Dean.”

Dean didn’t exactly ever expect to be called ‘beautiful’ in his life. And yet, with all the ‘ruggedly handsome’, ‘drop-dead gorgeous’, ‘adorably cute’ comments he’s gotten from the ladies in the past… somehow, having Cas call him beautiful is the only compliment he’s ever received to get a genuine smile in response, ducking his head to hide his bashful smile and slowly reddening cheeks.

“Ladies and Gents, witches, former angels, former demons, Gods… whatever title you’d like… I think we can all agree that this is a sight we’d never thought we’d see,” Rowena begins, spreading out her arms to gesture at all around them. “And yet, here we are — standing at Dean Winchesters wedding. And not just Dean Winchester’s wedding, but Dean Winchester’s and Castiel’s.

“Now, I must admit, I was a wee bit confused as to why you asked me to officiate this wedding. I had assumed that perhaps the past attempts on both your lives may have lost me my golden ticket. I must confess that I know little about officiating. I was never married you see, and… it’s safe to say things have changed quite a bit over the years. But I suppose having God himself here makes it easier, wouldn’t you say? After all, the officiant is simply the middleman in all of this, serving as God’s witness to the joining of the couple before them. Well… God’s right here to witness it himself — and I think it’s safe to say he has no objections.”

“Nope,” Jack says with his usual enthusiasm, looking quite pleased with his answer.

“Well then… there’s not much else for me to say,” Rowena says, placing a hand on both their shoulders. “Boys… I can’t express how thankful I am you finally ripped the band-aid off, so to speak, and told each other how you feel. Because quite frankly? Watching you two pine over each other without mentioning it was almost as insufferable as having Lucifer snap my neck.”

“We weren’t that bad…” Dean tries defending him and Cas, but the amused snort of Sam next to him kind of ruins that.

“Hard parts on you boys now,” Rowena lets her hands slip away from their shoulders. “I assume you have your own vows?”

“Yeah, we do,” Dean answers, turning his focus away from Rowena to the man he plans on spending the rest of his life with. “You want me to go first?”

“Only if you want to.”

Dean nods, breathing deeply through his nerves as he prepares himself. This wasn’t exactly a speech he wanted to mess up.

“Cas… I’m not going to lie to you, I spent way too long thinking about what to say to you. I, uh… I actually started writing it down, had it all on this little piece of paper, and I realized… I didn’t need it. I didn’t need to sit there and think about how I feel for you. If I’m unable to tell you what you deserve to hear from my heart, right on the spot, then… what’s the point? So, everything I’m about to say… I want you to know that I mean every word of it.”

Castiel smiles at him – this soft, at peace kind of smile that lets Dean know that he knows every word out of his mouth is going to be the truth.

“Cas… you know how hard it is for me to accept new people into my life. Every time I let them in, let myself care for them… they’re taken away from me. It’s a vicious cycle, and in the past, I decided the best way to break it was to remove the cycle entirely; keep myself distant from everyone who tries to become a part of my life. But you? You were like the world's largest mosquito…” Dean was glad to see that Cas found that as humorous as he did, the tender smile on his face widening briefly as a short huff of laugher escapes him. “You know, at first, it was kinda easy. Taking orders is what I did best back then. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have my dad barking orders into my ear, and I felt strangely lost without them. Then, there you were - always popping up at the most unexpected times, nearly sending me back to ‘perdition’ with the heart attacks you’d induce, reminding me that God had a job for me and giving me orders… I’m not afraid to admit that there were times I wish I’d never met you, Cas. The times where I felt like the burden of being the ‘righteous man’ were too much, the expectations you and all the other angels had for me, it… it felt like it would all be better if you never came into my life. Go back to the way things were before.

“And then… there would be the times I lost you. Coming back from purgatory without you, or when we lost you after Jack was born… that was a different form of Hell, mostly because I didn’t understand why it hurt so damn much to lose you. Out of all the friends I’ve lost over the years… losing you made me into an entirely different person – and I didn’t like that man one bit. ‘Course, I just chalked it up to you being my best friend, but… I should have known better. I know what a broken heart feels like.

“But the thing is, the first time I lost you? I lost Sammy, too. And Bobby. All that grief sort of got… mashed into one. I didn’t know what to feel, and before I knew it… there you were again. Alive, powered up once more… and then you left again.

“So, I tried to do the ‘normal life’ thing. Find some semblance of peace, but… well, we all know how that ended up. And see, I think that’s part of why I always thought I’d die bloody, out on a hunt. Because giving up hunting, living a normal life? Whenever I tried to envision it… all I’d think of is how wrong it went last time, and… it scared me to try that again. To mess up the life of someone I loved, all to find myself back hunting again, like it’s some sort of drug I can't quit. But then… then I tried something new. Instead of picturing the blank, faceless woman in my future… I let myself see you, Cas. I let myself self us, trying the whole ‘hunter retirement’ thing. I saw us working through me giving up hunting, and it worked, because you understand me, Cas. You help me work through it; help remind me what it is I’m living for now. And really – what else is there for me to say to you, Cas? I want you to be the one to help me get through every problem that comes out way. I want to be by your side, every morning you wake up, ready to be there for you just as you are for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you – and beyond that – because I love you. God help me, I really do.

“And he says he’s not good with words…” Sam leans down to whisper to Jack, perhaps a little more misty-eyed than he thought he’d be.

Dean doesn’t focus on his brother’s snarky comments. Instead, he takes in the genuine look of disbelief on Cas’s face, which in of itself is kind of painful to know – Dean decides then and there to make sure he constantly reminds Cas of how he feels for him as often as he can, for the rest of their damn lives. It’s not until Dean reaches out and brushes his fingers against the back of Cas’s hand that he seems to snap back into himself, finding his fingers instinctively twitching towards Dean’s, wanting to intertwine them and never let go.

For a moment, Dean thought that Eileen had mixed up the timings as she leaned over to Cas, handing him what Dean knew to be a ring enclosed snugly in her closed hand, out of sight. He hadn’t actually seen the ring yet – Cas has refused to let him see it until the wedding – but judging by the way Cas took the ring from her hand without comment, it seemed likely that Cas had made this a part of his vows.

“Dean, do you remember… it was during one of your dreams. We were on a beach, lazing about in the water, and I spoke to you in many different tongues. There was one part, where I talked to you about my time as a human. Of course, you didn’t know this, as you did not understand the languages I was speaking, but… I feel the need to expand on this, for you to understand.

“When I fell for you… I didn’t understand why. I wasn’t supposed to feel such things. The only love I was supposed to hold was for my Father, and for humanity as a whole – something my brothers and sisters often forwent. I was scared. Scared of what these feelings meant, to the disaster it would undoubtedly lead to. The only saving grace I had was that I was still an angel. These feelings, whilst powerful because it was the first time I was feeling them… they were muted. Like an itch you can’t quite scratch. Not unbearable, but… persistent enough that you’re always aware of their presence.

“And then… I became human. In a way, I was thankful for the overwhelming feels of shame, of guilt for being the cause of my brothers and sisters being cast from Heaven; all these new feelings such as hunger and cold, and exhaustion and… every annoying thing that comes with being human, I suppose. But the thought of seeing you again? I didn’t know it was possible to feel so filled with anticipation and… and dread. Because if the way I felt for you was as strong as it was whilst I had my grace… how would I cope with it, as nothing more than a human? All these new…. desires. Temptations.

“When I regained my grace once more, it was… I thought it’d be a relief, I suppose. No longer having to feel the full brunt of my emotions. But a part of me missed that human aspect. Even when all I could do was stand by your side as nothing more than a friend… it was a privilege to feel the way I did for you. Still, it did make it easier. I was able to focus more, an extra sense of logic I felt I had lost as a human driven mostly by emotions. Sometimes… I’d think about what it would like to become human again. To give up my grace and just… live my own life, as Metatron once suggested I do.

“At the time, I realized I didn’t want to go through that again. Not because I would be mortal, susceptible to minor illnesses – and major – having to deal with that repeating cycle of hunger and thirst, keeping up with hygiene – all the things I wouldn’t have to think twice about as an angel. No, I would be perfectly fine with all those things. What I didn’t want to deal with again was the longing. The pain of being so utterly in love with you, and knowing I could never have you in that way. Being the ‘friend’ you took to bars, having to watch you walk out with yet another partner on your arm… No matter what, I wanted to be a part of your life – but at least being an angel helped take away some of the pain of knowing you would never love me that same way.

“But then… then here we are. Here we are, with you telling me things I only briefly dreamed about in my times as a human, and now… Now I look forward to being human. I get to experience the full, deeply seated, encompassing love that I have for you, because now I know I get to share that love with you. I get to spend the rest of my life, however short or long it might be, with you – and not just as your friend. I get to be more than that – I get to have what I always wanted, but never thought I could have.”

Cas brought his closed fist up in between them, uncurling his fingers to reveal a gleaming silver ring sat in his hand. The metal was oddly sleek, almost too perfect. Dean felt like he had seen that metal before, but he couldn’t quite pin it…

“I hope you don’t mind, but I ‘took a page from your book’, so to speak. This ring, like the one you made for me, is made of a metal that once belonged to a weapon. My weapon, to be specific.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the realization of what Cas had given up, wide eyes darting between Cas and the ring he held in his hand. “You… you melted down your angel blade?”

“The only one I have,” Castiel confirmed. “The one I always kept hidden up my sleeve, ready for any battle I ran into. I wanted to make this ring out of my weapon as a reminder to you. I want you to remember that everything about my prior life – my brothers and sisters, my Father; the billions of years I spent as a Soldier of God, watching over Earth in many forms, flying past the planets of the various galaxies my father had created… none of it compares to the honor of knowing you, Dean. I was, am, and always will be ready to give all that up in a heartbeat, if it means I end up right here with you. So, on the days that you wonder why I married you – and I know you will think that from time to time, as much as it pains me for you to think that – I want you to take a look at this ring on your finger and remember that ‘Castiel, angel of the Lord’ is who I used to be. But being ‘Castiel Winchester?’ That is who I am proudest to be.”

Everyone at the ceremony – even Rowena – couldn’t help but look upon the two soon-to-be newlyweds with warm smiles and melted hearts. Dean was smiling so wide that he was sure to have a sore face the next day – but this seemed worth it. Cas held Dean’s left hand in his, fingers never as steady as he smoothly slides the silver ring onto Dean’s ring finger. Dean felt a nudge by his shoulder, looking over to see Sam holding his custom-made ring for Cas. Dean takes it, shooting his brother a thankful smile before taking Cas’s hand in his, just as Cas had for him, and sliding the ring onto Cas’s ring finger.

“Since we’ve done the vows and the ring’s the wrong way round, I’m just going to skip the whole ‘If anyone objects’ part, because this wedding is enough drama in of itself. So… now for the fun part,” Rowena declared once the rings were in place, her voice barely catching their attention – which was focused on the rings they both now wore. “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel as your – not so lawfully – wedded husband, to be your partner in life; to share your love through the bad and the good, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Dean says like he’s never been so certain of something in his life. “Not even after death, Cas. Always.”

“And do you, Castiel, take Dean Winchester as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish him through the joys and the sorrow, through sickness and through health, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Castiel announces, unable to resist the temptation to reach a hand forward for Dean, the small smile on his face widening as Dean’s fingers instinctively entwine with his – feeling the cold metal of Dean’s ring against his skin.

“Then by the power vested in me by… definitely not the state of Kansas, but by the power of this God standing a few feet away from me, I pronounce you spouses in love and in life. Now go on, kiss him!”

Dean didn’t know if Rowena was talking specifically to him or to Cas on that last part, but it didn’t matter in the end; they both found themselves leaving forward at the same time, dipping down and tilting his head as Cas’s lips meet his. The sounds of their friends and family clapping and cheering was nothing more than muted background noise. His senses were focused entirely on Cas; of his lips that had become chapped and dry in the breeze, but no less addictingly soft; the sugary and fruity taste of his lips – likely some sort of jelly Cas had eaten with his breakfast this morning; the soapy, pine tree smell of hair – something that seemed to linger even after he had lost his grace. Not that Dean was complaining – next to a freshly baked apple pie, it was probably the best thing he had ever smelled.

The sun had all but disappeared now, nothing more than a sliver of gold peeking over the horizon. Most of the sky had shifted to that blue that was so dark it might as well be black, only held back by the last swirls of reds, oranges, and pinks of the steadily fading sunset. The loss of the sun also meant the loss of the day’s pleasant warmth, the once relieving and cooling breeze raising goosebumps across everyone’s skin.

“Uh, guys… I don’t think we worked out the whole ‘timing’ thing too well…” Sam leaned across to pop the blissful bubble Dean and Cas were wrapped up in. “We should probably get going to the bunker before we’re stumbling back in the dark.”

* * *

Dean and Cas didn’t return at first.

Dean sent Sammy and the others back, instructing him to ‘get the party started without them’. It wasn’t like they were going to take too long – they’d probably be right behind them. Besides, it gave Sam some time to get their guests settled, start serving out food, and… well, like he said: get the party started.

“Will your first act as a married man be to murder your husband in the middle of woods, in the middle of night, in the middle of nowhere, where no one will hear you commit such a heinous crime?” Castiel asked, taking a seat on a fallen tree, and glancing up to Dean.

“Damn – you figured out my master plan,” Dean joked with him, dropping down on the tree with a heavy sigh. “I was doing everything in my power to bring you back, just to have the pleasure of taking your life by my own hands.”

“How cruel of you,” Castiel mumbled, craning his head back to take a look at the canopy of stars above them, only just starting to become visible as the sky continues to darken. “Why did you want to stay behind?”

“I don’t know… guess I thought it’d be nice to enjoy a moment of peace first. ‘Calm before the storm’ and all that.”

“…What storm?”

“Going back to the bunker,” Dean answered, keeping his line of sight aimed towards the sky. “Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to see everyone and get to celebrate a good thing for once. But… just a moment before, with just us, would be nice. I feel like it hasn’t been just us in…”

“I know,” Castiel agrees softly, leaning into Dean’s side and resting his head against Dean’s shoulder. “With all the running around getting things ready for the wedding, we’ve barely managed to actually see each other.”

“Hmm. No better way to build up to a marriage than to separate yourself from your partner through a stressful time, then throw them back together again for the rest of their lives.”

Castiel hums in agreement, taking advantage of the heat radiating from Dean to keep away the chill of the night. “Sounds about right to the way humans like to do things.”

“Yep. And you’re a human now, too. Welcome to a life of dumb decisions, Cas.”

Castiel chuckled warmly, letting his eyes scan across the forming constellations appearing in the night sky. “I think it’s more likely that I’ll get to watch you make the dumb decisions.”

“We haven’t even been married for ten minutes and you’re already insulting me.”

“Yes – but I’d like to point out that I intend to stand by you through every dumb decision you will inevitably make.”

Dean and Cas fell silent for a few moments, content to sit in each other’s company and gaze upon the stars overhead. Dean couldn’t help but think back to that night – or at least, the fake one in his dream - where they were sat like this on top of Baby. That night had been the beginning of their relationship, but this night? This night was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“Now that you’re human, do you still think I’m prettier than the stars?” Dean couldn’t help but ask, tearing his eyes away from the sky above down to Cas.

“I don’t have to be an angel to see how brightly your soul shines, Dean.” Castiel’s voice rumbled through Dean’s chest from where Cas was leaning on him. “I can see it shining through when you smile, and through your eyes when you see your family.”

Dean reached an arm around to wrap Cas up, pulling him tighter into his side. “You know you don’t have to keep up with the sappy shit, right? You got me.”

“That’s no reason for me to stop,” Castiel refuted.

Dean signed in content, letting himself enjoy one last minute of relative peace before nudging at Cas to get up, standing from the log and holding out a hand for Cas to take.

“C’mon – let’s get back to the madhouse.”

* * *

Sam was partly right about the ‘stumbling home in the dark’ thing. Okay, he was completely right; Dean and Cas spent half the walk back to the bunker giggling at one another as they tripped over every loose branch, patch of thorns, sneaky exposed roots, and tree stumps hiding under the leaves.

The first thing they noticed upon returning to the bunker was that the door had been left open. Not too strange, since there was a chance Sam, Eileen, Rowena, Jack, and Claire hadn’t long since returned and decided to leave the door cracked open for their return. But on the other hand, this was still supposed to be a secret bunker that kept out most supernatural beings that weren’t welcome - and keeping the friggen door opened was kind of ruining the whole point of that.

They didn’t have much time to mull over Sam’s unusual stupidity on the subject of safety as, upon pushing the door open further and stepping through the doorway together, they were both showered in a spray of rainbow-colored confetti. Sam had set up an honest to God bucket trap atop the door.

“And here’s Mr. and Mr. Winchester!” Came Sam’s delighted shout, bringing out a joyous cheer from the small crowd that had gathered below, clapping at the two of them up on the balcony frozen in the small pile of colored paper pieces that were laid by their feet.

Their guest list wasn’t particularly long since, well… there weren’t many friends of theirs left alive to attend their wedding. It was of comfort though, knowing that all those that aren’t with them anymore were, undoubtedly, watching the festivities from up above. And besides, there was no doubt in Dean's mind that they'd be greeted to some over-the-top celebration once they finally cross the pearly gates for good.

The first guests to greet them as they stepped off the stairs was probably the most enthusiastic of the night; Dean had barely looked up from his feet before both he and Cas were wrapped up in the mother of all bear hugs – or should he say wolf hugs – by a grinning, looked-like-he-was-seconds-away-from-crying-of-happiness, Garth.

“You know you’re gonna get a hug from me on your big night, Dean!” Garth crowed in his ear at near-deafening volume

“And I’m too high on wedding happiness right now to reject it,” Dean answered back, unable to even hug Garth back due to his arms being pinned between them.

“Oh, I nearly forgot introductions! Cas, you haven’t even met my family yet…” Garth unbound them from their hug so quickly that both Dean and Cas nearly fell over. Garth stepped to the side, calling over the rest of his family who had been patiently watching them nearby.

Betty had both her twins practically attached to her legs, one of the twins (Dean had no idea who was who considering the last time he saw them was in diapers), with a thumb firmly planted in his mouth in a way that endearingly reminded him of how Sam used to do the exact same thing whenever he was nervous as a kid. The other little girl (Gertrude! Dean remembered that one) was holding onto her mother's hand, looking around the strangers -and equally strange home- with a mixture of nervousness and childlike curiosity.

“Castiel, this is my lovely wife, Betty,” Garth introduced his wife.

“I'd shake your hand, but they’re rather full right now,” Betty said, gesturing to her literal hand full of kids. “And… I don’t know if that ring you’re wearing is silver…”

“And these here are my beautiful children,” Garth proclaimed, voice filled with clear pride as he looked down at his kids. “Gertrude, you wanna say hi to another one of Daddy’s friends?”

“Hello,” Gertrude said politely, waving a small hand to Castiel.

“And this little rascal is Sam,” Garth said, crouching down and tousling the hair of the little boy with his thumb in his mouth. The younger Sam popped his thumb out his mouth long enough to give Dean and Cas a little wave before promptly sticking his thumb back in his mouth.

“And this-,” Is as far as Garth got before the other twin – who had been staring up at Cas with wide eyes – peeled himself off of his mother and shuffled over to Cas, reaching out with his hands and a high-pitched command of “Up!”

Dean was expecting for Cas to panic a little at that. He had never actually seen Cas interact with children before – unless you counted Jack, though it’s safe to say Jack was just a tad bit more mature than the children in front of him. To his surprise though, Cas immediately bent down and scooped the young child up into his arms, responding to the kid’s high-pitched giggle of delight with a toothy smile of his own.

“This… is Castiel,” Garth finished his prior sentence. Castiel’s head snapped over to Garth in complete shock, looking genuinely taken aback at what he had just heard.

“Oh… is he…?”

“Named after you? How many other Castiel’s do you know?” Garth said with a grin, wrapping one arm around his wife, and the other around his daughter.

“I think little Cas likes you,” Dean told his husband, fighting back a laugh when the curious child pats at Castiel’s cheeks with his chubby hands.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Castiel said to the child who probably couldn’t understand what he just said. He caught little Cas’s explorative hands in his free one, sending him into another fit of giggles at the giant hands that covered his own.

“Here, I’ll take him from ya,” Garth said, holding out his arms for his son. Young Castiel brightened at the sight of his father, grabbing hold of his dad with an excited squeal of “Da-Da!” Garth held his son by his side, giving the two newly-weds a happy smile. “I’ll stop taking up all your time – let you talk to the others. I expect to see you on the dance floor later though, Dean!”

“You think I wouldn’t take the opportunity to embarrass my husband in front of everyone?” Dean said, ignoring the narrow-eyed glare Cas sent his way.

The next guests they greeted were the only other guests at this little reception of theirs, having gathered in a small group off to the side. Donna was the first to spot them making their way over, breaking out into a friendly grin that she always seemed to have. “Can you believe it, eh? Dean Winchester? Married?”

“I can hardly believe it myself,” Dean responded, pretty much stepping into the hug that Donna initiated the second he was within arms-reach.

“And I don’t think we’ve ever actually met!” Donna directed towards Castiel once she pulled herself away from Dean, sticking out a hand for Castiel to shake. “Donna Hanscum – nice to meet ya.”

Castiel took her hand, giving it a friendly shake with his best smile. “I’m surprised we never crossed paths. I suppose we’ve both led busy lives.”

“Didn’t use to be,” Donna joked. “I used to think being the sheriff would be the most stressed I’d ever be… then came along these two idiot brothers and turned my life upside down.”

“Uh… should I apologize?” Dean said.

“Of course not!” Donna proclaimed, giving Dean an enthusiastic slap to the arm with the back of her hand. “Now I know about all the spooky things out there that I never knew about! Good to feel like I can actually make a difference.”

“It seems you’re either born into the hunter life, or dragged into it by the Winchesters,” Came the voice of Jody, stepping up next to Donna with a glass of some fancy champagne in hand that Sam had splurged a little too much on.

“And it’s a damn good thing we did,” Dean argues. “With me and Sammy retiring, I can think of no other duo to take over the title of America’s best hunters.”

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear, either…” Jody said. “You really dropping out for good?”

“Unless there’s some other major catastrophe, then… yeah. This is it,” Dean tells them. “I could never ignore the end of the world, no matter how ‘retired’ I am, but… I know you guys will take care of things with us gone.”

“We’ll certainly try,” Jody said softly, placing her drink down on the map table to wrap them both up in a hug that Dean could only describe as ‘motherly’.

“I’m so proud of you boys…” She utters softly to them, squeezing them tighter as she speaks. “After all the crap you’ve been put through… you deserve this.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says sincerely, giving Jody one last squeeze before separating. A mother’s touch wasn’t one he had really experienced…

“You seen how well they’ve been getting along?” Jody asked, gesturing with a tilt of her head to the teens behind her. “I suppose it’s good they’re getting along well with… God?”

Dean’s eyes shifted over Jody’s shoulder, seeing exactly what Jody was talking about. Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience were huddled in the corner of the room, talking excitedly to Jack – who looked rather pleased to be the center of attention.

“Time to be embarrassing Dad’s,” Dean told Cas, shooting Jody and Donna one last smile before making their way over to the teens, who were likely getting themselves into all sorts of trouble.

“Can you please try not to convince our new God to perform any party tricks that might set the bunker on fire?” Dean asked as they got within ear-shot.

“I think I’m good enough at my powers not to do that now,” Jack replied, raising up his hand as if to show Dean something. “I’ve been practicing with-,”

“No God powers in the bunker!” Dean held out a hand to stop him, only feeling slightly bad for the pout that instantaneously appeared on Jack’s face.

“Dude, did you just tell God what to do?” Claire asked.

“Hell yeah I did,” Dean said proudly.

“You can show us later,” Castiel leans forward to whisper to Jack, giving him a wink as the pout on Jack’s face changes into a pleased smile.

“Guess we know who wears the pants in this family…” Alex mumbles to Patience, who hides her snort of laugher in the glass of coke she had brought up to her mouth.

“I might be getting older, but I’m not that deaf yet,” Dean said, glaring at the group of teens in front of him.

“Chill Grandpa,” Claire’s insult only intensified the glare tenfold. “I just wanted to get to know Jack a little better. I mean, he’s basically my brother.”

“Um… not really,” Cas said awkwardly. “In a way, I suppose you could consider him a cousin, but-,”

“Nope. He’s my brother. I’ve decided it,” Claire interrupted Cas, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder with a teasing grin. “Apparently you guys never taught him about pranks? That’s just a crime. He didn’t even know what the bucket prank that Sam set up was!”

“I didn’t know that a knowledge of pranks is a necessary part of life,” Castiel said. “Although, having live through many of Gabriel’s pranks, I can’t say I’m particularly fond of them.”

“Yeah, and we kinda decided that teaching a kid with powers pranks would probably end in disaster,” Dean said.

“You had cruel, cruel parents, Jack,” Claire told a rather befuddled-looking Jack, steering him away from them and towards the library, with Alex, Patience, and Kaia in tow. “C’mon – you’ve got many things to learn…”

Dean and Cas watched them go with an odd sense of contentment that Claire and Jack were getting along so well… and complete and utter dread that they were getting along so well. Dean turned to Cas once the group disappeared into the hallway – most likely to use Jack’s powers to change all of the alcohol in the bunker into water or some ironic shit like that – sharing an amused look with his new husband.

“Should I go fetch the fire extinguisher?”

* * *

The library had been converted into a temporary dining room for the reception. The long wooden table had a pristine white cloth draped over it, along with a few candles in silver holders being placed along the middle. Sam had dragged out a few chairs from storage, given them a quick dusting and varnishing to breathe new life into them, and situated them along the table.

They had been eating for around twenty minutes at this point, nearly everyone having finished their meal. Dean was watching Garth attempt to clean the mess of blood from the twin’s face (from the raw steaks they had served for Garth and his family), when Sam stood from his chair and clinked a knife to his glass, damn near shattering the thin glass with his strong hits.

The small conversations people had fallen into tapered off, the room falling into an expectant silence as all eyes turned to Sam. Sam cleared his throat, placing the knife back down on the table but keeping the glass of champagne in his hand as he addressed the room with his best man’s speech.

“Hey, so, uh… I just wanna say thank you to everyone for being here. I know that you’re all here because you want to support these two guys here on what will be one of the most important days of their lives, and having you all here will be part of why this night will be so memorable. So-,” Sam paused, raising his drink in the air. “-Cheers to all of you,”

“Cheers!” Rang around the table as everyone lifted their glasses into the air, before taking a swig of their drink.

“And, of course, cheers to the couple in question,” Sam said, turning to face both his brother and Cas. “I know I like to tease you guys a lot, since… it’s kind of a part of being the annoying little brother, I suppose. But I don’t think I have the words to say just how happy I am for you two. And Cas – I can’t thank you enough. Not only for how you’ve been there for both of us, through thick-and-thin, one apocalypse after the other, but for just how happy you make my brother. I’ve never seen Dean look so at peace than when he’s with you, and as much as my role as Dean’s brother is to annoy the hell out of him, it’s also to make sure that you’re happy. Now that you’ve got Cas? I don’t have to worry about that.”

Sam raised his glass once more, this time in their direction, fighting back tears at the misty-eyed looks he got from both Dean and Cas. “To Dean and Castiel Winchester!”

“To Dean and Castiel Winchester!” Everyone parroted.

Dean had been expecting for Sam to sit back down after his speech, or perhaps even walk over to wrap them both up in hugs. To his surprise, Sam remained standing, shooting him much too of a mischievous grin for Dean’s liking.

“One last thing,” Sam added. “Dean… I thought that tonight, I’d try and turn the cards on you and give you a surprise of my own. For months, I was stumped on what gift to get you. I felt like, as both your brother and best man, it had to be something meaningful. That’s when I remembered a little story Cas told me.

“For those of you that don’t know it, Cas had to spend some time up in Dean’s head. What I didn’t know was that every night, Dean was spending time with Cas in his dreams. Dean has a kind of special marking on his arm, in the form of a handprint. Specifically, Cas’s handprint. During one of these dreams, Dean told Cas that he wished Cas had a mark, too. Something of his to wear on Cas’s skin. And that’s when the plan came to my mind. But, for the plan to work, it all fell down onto one requirement – Dean needed to be an asshole.”

The glare Dean sent his brother’s way didn’t quite have the heat to it that he wanted, considering his cheeks quickly reddened at the knowing laughter that spread across the table.

“Thankfully, Dean completed that requirement pretty quickly,” Sam said with a playful grin. “Do you remember, Dean, a few months ago, when I told you I was trying a new hobby? I had gotten everything set up, too; the canvas, the paints, the easel, everything. You waltzed right into my room, asked me what I was doing, and as soon as I began explaining that I wanted to take up painting… you stuck your hand straight into the paints and planted your paint-covered hand onto the canvas.

“You left the room laughing that day, and it had never been harder for me to be mock angry with you, when in reality I wanted to cheer and celebrate a mission well done. I went to Cas immediately after and told him my idea. Cas fell in love with it, and… here we are.”

Dean turned his suspicious glare towards Cas, who could only shrug in false innocence at the accusation being pointed towards him.

“A few days ago, I told you I was taking Cas to the tattoo shop to get a devil’s trap tattooed on,” Sam said. “That was partly true – he did get the devil’s trap, don’t worry, Dean. What we didn’t tell you was that we got another piece commissioned, too. Cas? You wanna show him?”

Dean tore his eyes away from Sam’s barely contained glee, turning to Cas with eyebrows raised in anticipation. He watched as Cas began meticulously rolling up the sleeve of his left arm, pushing the shirt up further and further until Dean could see-

A handprint. Right there on his shoulder, the exact same place where Castiel’s handprint was on his shoulder, was a very detailed, very realistic looking scar of a handprint. And not just any handprint – his handprint.

“There’s been a reason I’ve been wearing long-sleeved shirts,” Castiel told him. “You did say you wanted your own ‘Property of Dean Winchester’ sign.”

“You…” Was all Dean could get out before his body took over, standing up from his chair and reaching out a hand to place it over the handprint. Castiel winced at the contact, since the tattoo was still fresh and raw, but didn’t shy away from Dean’s touch. Dean could only marvel at the way his hand perfectly fit over the mark, proving that it truly was his handprint. “You didn’t have to do this, Cas…”

“I know,” Castiel replies, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I wanted to.”

Dean turned to his brother, shuffling past a few chairs to pull him into his arms with a few choked words. “Good job, brother,”

“Glad you like it,” Sam replied, thumping him on his back before pulling away from the hug. “Was kinda worried you’d figure out what was going on when you left the handprint on the canvas.”

“Nah, you didn’t have to worry about that,” Dean said. “I was too caught up on a job well done of ticking you off.”

* * *

It’s approaching sunrise by the time the last of the guests had left. The library had been converted once again shortly after dinner at Garth’s demands to create a dance floor – which everyone quickly agreed to on account of the booze flowing through their veins. Dean and Cas were all but content to watch everyone make a fool of themselves on the dance floor, smiles wide with pride as Claire manages to drag Jack onto the dance floor to join her and Kaia.

There was one stipulation Dean had, though; he refused to have his first dance with Cas in front of everyone else. Not because he’s scared of how everyone will judge him for his dancing skills (okay, maybe a little of that), but because… he wanted that moment to be between just him, and Cas.

Cas looked exhausted, and Dean couldn’t blame him one bit. If he was in the same boat as he was, then he didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, either. His hair was all ruffled from one too many drunken affectionate rubs from Sam, his bowtie undone and hanging loose around his neck, staring out into the dimly lit library from his seat with half-asleep eyes.

He looked just as stunning as when he walked up the aisle.

“Hey, angel,” Dean says as he stands in front of him, holding out a hand for him to take. “Care for a dance?”

Despite how tired Cas looked, his eyes still lit up at Dean’s request. Dean smiled tenderly at him as Cas’s hand fit snuggling into his own, leading him towards the center of the room. Their hands remained clasped, hanging loosely to their sides as the two swayed on the spot. It probably looked ridiculous considering there was no music playing, but neither of them cared much. They didn’t need the music.

Dean let his eyelids fall closed as Cas’s head rested against his, brushing his thumb against the cool metal ring wrapped around Cas’s ring finger. “Step three, Cas,” Dean whispered against his lips, squeezing Cas’s hand in his.

“Step three,” Castiel repeated gently. “So… what’s next?”

Dean opened his eyes back up, looking to Cas with a small smile before leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “We’ve got the whole rest of our lives to figure out ‘what’s next’, Cas. Whatever that may be… wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

* * *

As it turns out, life does go by fast when you’re not fighting for it every damn day.

One of the benefits to living in the bunker was the lack of bills. Not having to pay rent, or mortgage, or electricity, gas, water, heating, Internet, and more bills than he’s probably aware of meant that, between the two, their savings account built up surprisingly quick. Dean had more money on his account than he had ever had on his life, and before long, another little (by which he means huge) idea popped into his head.

He didn’t bring up the idea to Cas until about a year after they were married. Mostly due to one huge piece of news from Sam that Eileen was pregnant.

Well, the news didn’t technically come from Sam. Dean had overheard them talking about it one night, trying to find a way to bring up to him and Cas that Sam was planning to go back to Stanford to finish up his law degree. Made sense; having a well-paying job with a steady income was a better way to go about raising a kid in the bunker.

So, on the day Sam and Eileen finally gathered up the courage to announce the pregnancy and upcoming move, he and Cas were able to one-up them by showing them the deeds to a little property up in Oregon.

The house was fixer-upper for sure and led to many an argument between them. But that was okay. They had gotten pretty good at recovering from arguments after all this time. No matter how big of a falling out, it was typically the very next day that one of them would have cooled off and be bringing some kind of peace offering (typically a slice of pie from that fantastic family-run bakery for Dean, and a jar of this organic, way too expensive but it makes him happy, honey for Cas).

Besides, Dean could see the true beauty the house held the first time he saw the listing. It was practically crumbling apart, its wooden sidings rotting with what was once likely a beautiful blue paint now discolored and peeling away. But the house itself was set upon a beautiful lake within a patch of woods, not too far away from the nearby town that they were “in the middle of nowhere”, but enough so that they were away from prying eyes of the stereotypical American neighborhood.

There was even a little wooden dock practically on their backyard, where the two of them sat many a time, enjoying the warm summer evenings. Miracle especially liked the dock for diving into the water – typically whilst Dean was fishing, scaring any nearby fish away and pretty much ruining any chance of him getting a catch.

They had just finished the last restorations on the home when Eileen and Sam welcomed their son into the world. Dean thought he'd be pretty good at keeping it together, but the damn kid looked so much like Sammy did when he was a baby that he had to Dean Jr over to Cas when his vision became too filled with tears to see.

Getting to watch that kid grow was one of the best parts of the summers. It was their tradition; every summer vacation, Sam and Eileen would drop Dean Jr off at theirs to spend the entirety of the summer. Being the ‘cool uncle’ meant that the kid wanted to do everything that Dean did, leading to many evenings out at the garage shop, keeping the kid up much too late into the night as he teaches him everything he knows.

Life was good. Better than good, actually. Especially when, if you asked twenty years old Dean where he thought he’d be twenty years on, his answer would be “as a pile of ashes for the past twenty years.”

And he had genuinely believed that. Every day waking up in the hunter's life, he had wondered if it would be his last. Could you blame him? Too many risks, too many opportunities for something to go wrong.

It was funny that, as he got older, his view on death changed.

Back then, on that terrible day, left skewered like a kebab, the concept of death scared him. And it wasn’t like that was particularly a new thing. Sure, he had long since accepted that he was going to die young and bloody, but that didn’t make the idea or the lights going out forever terrifying.

He had actually realized that day that he wasn’t ready to accept it. After all that had happened, it had felt like something in their lives had changed. Dying that way... it didn’t seem fair. He felt like he deserved a chance to live the life he never got to, that he had so many years ahead of him to look forward to, and it was all just... taken away from him.

Now, nearly forty years after that day... he sees death differently. He’s lived that life, and lived it well. He's tired, both in body and mind, and whilst the first half of his life was filled with pain, misery, and the occasionally good moments, the last half of his life and been filled with nothing but happiness; of family and love.

He could still vividly remember the day they had to put Miracle down. She had been slowing down for a while, the gray in her muzzle spreading more and more, her eyes getting cloudier and cloudier. Even though he knew she was at that point where her life was more pain than happiness, that she would be going someplace much better... it was hard to let go. He supposed he wasn’t exactly mourning on her behalf, for her loss, but for the way her loss would impact their life.

It had been that evening, as Cas tearfully began collecting her bed and chew toys to put away in storage, that Dean truly began to take notice of the gray that had begun sneaking through his hair. They were getting older, there was no doubt about that. He had had the thought, perhaps a little morbid, about which one of them would go first.

Dean had bet on himself for that one. For one, Cas was technically younger than him, physically. Two, Jimmy took care of his body much better than Dean had. Sure, hunting keeps you physically fit, but all those fights, and being thrown against walls, tend to take their toll on the human body. Perhaps the drink would catch up to him, all those years drowning his liver in toxins. Hell, maybe he'd even clog an artery after countless takeouts and greasy diner foods.

He lost the bet.

It had happened on one of their daily morning walks.

It had been a beautiful day, all things considered. The November frost that covered the fallen leaves had only just begun to melt under the early morning sunrise, making their already slow walk all that much slower.

The walks had become more and more difficult the past few months. For the both of them, in fact. His wrinkled hands seem to shake atop his cane with every step – something he never thought he’d say in his youth; he had a damn cane – and every step they took was cautious and calculated, considering the fact that one wrong step, one small fall, would more than likely result in something being broken.

But it was Cas who seemed to be struggling that little bit more. It was Cas who had a harder time catching his breath, sucking in deep lungful’s of air like he couldn’t quite get enough. It was Cas who, just as they were stepping off the small sandy shore of the lake and rounding towards home, suddenly collapsed to his knees onto the cold ground as he held onto Dean.

And that’s when Dean knew it was time.

It was his heart, believe it or not. Not an angel blade through the chest, or a Vamp’s teeth sinking into his throat, or a Were’s claws ripping him open. His heart was simply too old. Too tired. It was failing – and it was the best type of death either of them could have asked for.

Cas passes away peacefully one late evening that same November, propped up in a comfortable hospital bed, surrounded by those who love him. There’s no fear in his eyes as goes, no overwhelming panic that has him tugging out the cannula in his nose, no pain – the drugs the doctors had pumping into him through his IV line made sure of that. He just smiles up at them with tired eyes as a frazzled, gray-haired Sam Winchester keeps a hand on his best friends’ arm, the other wrapped around a similarly frail-looking Eileen and their not so young son, anymore.

And then, just before he goes… Castiel’s gaze fixates on one person. He only has eyes for his husband by his side, staring into emerald green eyes that remained as young as the Dean Winchester he fell in love with. Dean’s brittle fingers were intertwined with Cas’s as he struggled through his last breaths, squeezing Cas’s hand as tightly as his old bones would let him.

“It’s okay, Cas. We did it. We made it…” Dean rasps down to him, leaning forward to place one last shaky kiss on his husband's head as Castiel’s eyes begin to droop, the machine by his head blaring and beeping numbers that Dean ignores. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll be right behind you.”

Dean follows him no more than two weeks later.

Castiel had only just begun settling into Heaven when Dean arrived.

Dean had woken up from his ‘endless sleep’, a smile of relief playing across his face as he took in the familiar sights around him. He was home. Right there in front of him stood the house they had made with blood, sweat, and tears. Every little detail that made it theirs; from the small scratches in the wood where Miracle had been digging at the ground below to the tiny crack in the attic window where Dean Jr had ‘wanted to test how high he could throw a football’.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He already knew where Cas was.

Walking around the side of the house, towards the lake, is where he spotted Cas. Cas was waiting, stood at the end of the dock with a damn fishing rod in hand, looking as young as he was when he was brought back to life. Dean would like to think that he kept a respectable pace as he moved towards Cas, but in reality, he knows he all but sprinted to him.

The second he was within reach, he knocked the stupid damn fishing pole out of Cas’s hands and threw his arms around him, grateful for the way his trick knee no longer ached with the movement. Cas dropped the fishing pole without a second thought, returning the tight hold Dean had on him with a bemused chuckle. “Dean, it’s only been two weeks.”

“That’s two weeks too long,” Dean replies, meaning it full-heartedly. “Told you I’d follow you, didn’t I?”

“Your mother stopped by,” Castiel tells him as he pulls away from Dean’s embrace. “They have a big surprise party waiting for you at the roadhouse.”

“I think you kinda ruined the surprise there, Cas,” Dean said, taking a seat on the edge of the dock and let his feet dangle over the water, holding out a hand for Cas to join him.

“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime,” Castiel said, accepting Dean’s offer and dropping down next to him. “I would have thought you’d want to visit them straight away?”

Dean smiled at that, looking away from the stillness of the lake to his husband. “We’ve got a lot of time for that, Cas. Besides, I wanna start enjoying Step Four.”

Dean wrapped an arm around Cas, tugging him towards him until Cas was leaning against his side, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Castiel closed his eyes in content, letting the warmth of Heaven’s sun wash over his face whilst the warmth of Dean soaked into his side. “What’s Step Four?”

“Kinda obvious, isn’t it?” Dean asked. “Enjoy the rest of eternity with you.”

#destiel fanfiction #destiel #destiel fic #destiel fix it fic #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers

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tentaculi · 7 years

Note

ULTIMATE SHIP = LOGAN & LEX

ULTIMATE SHIP | meme // @theimpalpable

General:

How long will they last? yo, we’ve already got their forever planned out so, 5eva it is.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? logan, i think, was very, very smitten as soon as he spotted her ( THANKS, DOC ) but… as you know, it takes logan some time to develop real feelings and took him a little while to be like, wow!! i’m in love!! but i would say the same about lexine too? there was an attraction but love followed after.

How was their first kiss? they haven’t had it yet in real time but imagining it now? i’m just going to say that it’s probably so shy and full of nerves and logan probably second guesses himself even as it’s happening but he did it!! he kissed her!! and she didn’t slap him. so that’s good!!

Wedding:

Who proposed? logan did! he did something really special for her, got down on one knee, and talked in length about how much he loved her and that he’d be like “the happiest dude ever” if she married him.

Who is the best man/men? doc is his best man and all of his groomsmen are his brothers!!

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? probably willow and maybe jake? haaa ( or maybe he’s a groomsman? ) i’m just… sorry but there are like no girls in this world right now !! but i think that maybe willow and poppy? and hopefully a couple of others too. otherwise this is going to be groomsmen heavy ( who cares tho right )

Who did the most planning? i think lexine probably did the most planning but logan was definitely a part of it too. he’s got interest in weddings in some sense and i could see him being excited !! about his own.

Who stressed the most? probably lexine? logan is so happy go lucky and carefree most of the time that i could see that translate into the planning a bit?

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? i don’t think there was a single, one person that wasn’t invited?

Sex:

Who is on top? ALRIGHT, here we go again with the sex stuff and muses who don’t find it all that… needed. but i’m going to say that logan maybe likes lexine to be on top so he can look up at his pretty lady (((:

Who is the one to instigate things? i’m going to say that there’s equal share in this? whenever lexine does logan would just be like yeah, girl, count me in!! and i could see her just like… turning red and smiling when logan brings it up or starts to initiate it.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ( THE SAME REASON AS W/ THE DUMMIES. theres is healthy and lovely but they aren’t always so, so focused on sex but instead the actual emotional bond ) | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? i think their, uh, love making can last for a while actually! and since it’s not as often really i could see their sessions lasting longer when they happen to make up for lost time in a sense.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? oh, yeah. they’re both so loving and giving to one and other that i could see this completely translating to their sexy times.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? they will be having two lovely children, our beautiful hank and penelope. twins!! and logan loves them so much!! he dotes on them and often regards how much they look like their mother and how beautiful his family is and he’s just so blessed!!

How many children will they adopt? none probably but logan would be open to it and i could see lexine being open to it as well. plus… all the cousins’ kids probably come in and out of the house so often it might feel like they have 938742394 instead of just two.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? logan would volunteer to take on the diapers but i could see lexine insisting that the chore is split between them.

Who is the stricter parent? uh, lexine, but even then it’s not like she’s strict? she just doesn’t have the 6 year old brain that her future husband has. oops.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? lexine. logan will encourage them to be superheroes, gosh darn it logan !!!

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? probably lexine but logan would help her when he remembers / totally pack them if he gets up to do it before his wifey does.

Who is the more loved parent? they are both loved in their own right and i don’t see hank or penny choosing between either of their parents in such a manner.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? both!! they are so involved in their children’s lives that they would want to be there for all things.

Who cried the most at graduation? they both cried so much, bless their hearts.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? logan probably! not that either would ever need to get bailed out… but i could see them being like ah! don’t tell mom!

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? oh, gosh, lexine. bless her heart. she cooks to feed so many mouths. at least logan will help with the dishes.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? lexine, perhaps? only because like his partner in crime, logan is a black hole.

Who does the grocery shopping? oh, they both go but lexine is capable of doing the real, adult shopping. logan would be more invested in the junk. ( omfg i almost put hunk )

How often do they bake desserts? lexine bakes all the time and logan would help her with that as she needed and wanted!

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? meaaaat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? lexine is the cutest ever and i could see her being thoughtful in this way but logan is as well. definitely thinking they might switch off on such things.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? logan!

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? …. logan ///:

Chores:

Who cleans the room? they share in these chores, aiight, like. my boy hates them but he wants to make sure that the home they share is nice and clean.

Who is really against chores? logan……… but he’ll do them!

Who cleans up after the pets? they’ve only got mr. fluffy and logan more shares in the giving him love than the actual cleaning up. they should get a pet too!!!

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? … logan. terrible man.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? probably lexine? mostly because i could see her being like this lovely little host who wants to cook and bake and make sure that her timeline is correct for when people show up.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? LOGAN. the one time he actually cleans between the cushions too, tf.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? maybe lexine? unless it’s a shared one then they both gonna take a minute.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? … they don’t have a dog, let’s get them one!!

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? all the timeee. the four in the house are big into holidays, i feel, and being this family unit so i could see them all getting it decked out.

What are their goals for the relationship? …. logan wants a forever with her, so. he wants to be his best for her because she’s been the best thing for him.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? logan wtf.

Who plays the most pranks? haha logan…. as well but i see lexine getting his azz back.

#the nerd ( responds. )#the nerd ( she leaves me breathless. )#ahskjdsf #theimpalpable

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jennycalendar · 7 years

Text

mermaid magic (4/6)

“wait a minute.” buffy looked between them. “giles, are you courting a mermaid now?”

jenny turned pink and ducked under the water. giles started stammering somewhat incoherently about unfounded accusations.

(featuring faith and buffy as smitten adventurers, willow and tara as smitten witches, and ethan as giles’s broody pirate ex-boyfriend)

this chapter: jenny discovers spoons & meets willow. problems show up

Jenny was asleep in the water when a lifeboat bumped against her. “What gives?” she demanded irritably, then, “Oh. Hi.”

“Oh, goodness, Jenny, I’m so sorry,” said Rupert nervously. Goddess Almighty, he was adorable. “I—I realize this is early, I just—my crew seems to think it rather ridiculous that I’m making such a production of—did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m good,” said Jenny, amused, and swum over to the side of the lifeboat so that she was facing him. “What’s up?”

“One of my crew members, Willow, is a fairly skilled witch and researcher,” Rupert explained. “She, er, she was wondering if it might be possible that you would discuss your culture and society with her, and if you were interested in learning a bit more about human culture and society in return.”

Jenny’s smile flickered. “Oh.”

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, it’s not that.” Jenny tugged uncomfortably at the sleeve of her shirt. “I wasn’t raised by mermaids,” she said finally. “I’ve never met another mermaid in my life. I was born around the same time mermaid hunting was getting popular, and from what I can guess, my parents hid me in a remote corner of the ocean and never got the chance to come back.”

“I’m sorry,” said Rupert. It wasn’t the same kind of reflexive, anxious apology he’d given when he’d knocked her with the lifeboat.

Jenny shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “I definitely had an interesting childhood, but that’s a story for another time. I just don’t think I’d have a lot to offer to your Willow.”

“Oh, she’s not my Willow,” said Rupert suddenly, turning pink. “No one’s my anything.” He hesitated, then, “That’s—not really the point I’m trying to make. I would like to get to know you, Jenny.”

Jenny felt strange and fluttery about that. She’d never once had anyone say that to her, not even the sirens. “Yeah?”

Rupert smiled slightly and nodded.

His hand was resting on the edge of the lifeboat. On impulse, Jenny reached up, placing her wet hand over his dry one. Rupert looked down, startled, and then smiled shyly, turning his hand over and quietly entwining their fingers.

Jenny hadn’t felt like this before. Or—she had, when she’d first met him all those years ago, but she hadn’t expected it to last. She’d thought it might have fizzled, that she might have romanticized him too much, but—

“GILES I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IT IS FIVE IN THE MORNING AND YOU’RE HOLDING HANDS WITH YOUR MERMAID,” came a loud voice, and Jenny noticed for the first time that the ship was close enough for them to be clearly visible.

“Not now, Buffy,” Rupert called back, very clearly blushing.

“Yes, now!” Buffy leaned over the side of the ship. “Didn’t you say you were talking to her about Willow?”

“Cute kid,” said Jenny, amused.

“She grows on you,” said Rupert exhaustedly. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “I suppose I had better go get breakfast.”

“Ooh, breakfast?” said Jenny with interest.

Rupert paused, frowning. “What do you eat?” he inquired.

“Fish,” said Jenny. “Mostly.”

Rupert glanced up at the ship, looked down at Jenny, looked at their joined hands, and said finally, “Would you like me to bring you down some breakfast?”

“What?” Jenny blinked. “I’ve—okay. I don’t know if I’ll like your kind of food, though. I hope that’s not—” It occurred to her how little she knew about human customs. She’d forgotten all about that, what with the way Rupert looked at her; it made her feel like nothing she possibly did could be wrong in his eyes. “I hope that’s okay,” she finished.

“It’s fine,” Rupert replied easily, letting go of Jenny’s hand. She found herself missing the warmth. “I’ll have Buffy let me back up. Do you suppose you can wait a few minutes while I get food from my crew?”

“I think I should be able to,” Jenny agreed. “I’ll be here.”

Rupert hesitated. Then, to Jenny’s complete surprise, he took her hand again, quietly kissing the back of her hand before he let it drop. “I’ll see you anon, then,” he said with a small smile, and began to row the lifeboat back towards the ship.

“Oh, no,” Jenny whispered, and tried to stop smiling.

It took Giles a good few minutes to realize what he had done, and a good few minutes after that to stop being utterly mortified.

“Calm down,” said Buffy, who looked very much like she was trying not to laugh. “She’s not going to hate you just because you kissed the back of her hand, okay? Just pick up some porridge and have breakfast with Jenny.”

“I’ll see you anon,” Giles repeated. “Why would I say that?”

“I don’t know, that sounds pretty smooth.” Gunn took a spoonful of his sister’s porridge. “A girl said something like that to me, I’d be swooning.”

“I might have said something like that to a lady I attempted to woo once,” began Wesley thoughtfully.

“Oh, no,” said Xander. “No, no, no. Don’t tell Giles about your failed romances when he’s trying to get with a mermaid.”

“I am not trying to get with—” Giles began indignantly.

“So you just kissed the back of her hand in a platonic way, then,” said Tara casually, taking a sip of her tea.

“Where’s the cinnamon?” Giles inquired nervously. “I need the cinnamon.”

Alonna gave him an amused smile and handed the cinnamon over. “I think you’ll do okay, Giles,” she said brightly, taking her porridge bowl back from Gunn. “I’ve read a lot about mermaids, and they usually don’t mind a little bit of friendly flirting.”

“Neither do I,” Faith added, and leered at Buffy, who kissed her nose and said something about Faith being an “awful, awful distraction.”

“Right,” said Giles, awkwardly picking up the two bowls. “I—shall go have porridge with Jenny in a lifeboat.”

“Careful you don’t spill it on your way down,” commented Lady Cordelia. “That’s going to ruin how smooth you were when you kissed her hand.”

“Smooth?” Giles repeated.

“Definitely,” said Buffy. “Girls love that kind of thing.”

“I don’t love that kind of thing,” said Faith. “It’s gross when guys grab my hand for no reason and slobber all over it just because they want to look romantic.”

Buffy gave her a very pointed look.

“Uh, I mean, way to go, Giles,” said Faith. “Super smooth.”

Giles sighed and exited the galley.

Jenny was swimming in idle circles by the time he reached her in the lifeboat, but this time she noticed him without him accidentally hitting her with the boat. “Oh!” she said. “Hi! So, what’s the people breakfast that you’ve brought me?”

“Porridge, brown sugar, and cinnamon,” Giles replied with a shy smile, sprinkling some extra cinnamon onto Jenny’s bowl before handing it over to her.

“Hmm,” said Jenny thoughtfully, taking it. “Looks gloppy.”

“To each their own,” Giles replied. “I wouldn’t recommend getting it wet. It’s quite nice dry.”

Jenny nodded, then stopped, looking down at the spoon. “Is that—do I eat that too?” she inquired with a small frown. “Do people eat metal?”

“What?” Giles blinked, then bit back a laugh. It wouldn’t do to make Jenny feel self-conscious. “No, it’s a spoon,” he explained, taking a spoonful of porridge for emphasis. “See?”

“That seems kind of unnecessary,” said Jenny thoughtfully. “Why not just use your hands?”

“Minimizing cleanup,” Giles replied. “We don’t all live in the water.”

“Hmm.” Jenny took a spoonful. Her eyes widened. “Mmm! Wow, that’s a lot better than fish.”

“Humanity does have its perks,” Giles quipped.

“Hey!” Willow stuck her head over the side of the ship. “Are you guys still having breakfast? Can Tara and I come down?”

“We come bearing bread and jam,” Tara added.

“Well,” began Giles, who was rather enjoying spending time with Jenny and Jenny alone.

“What’s bread-and-jam?” said Jenny with interest.

“Your motivation to make Giles let us come down,” Willow replied cheerfully, holding up a jar of preserves.

“Can they come down?” Jenny asked hopefully. “I’m really liking this whole not-fish theme of food you all have going. Is all your food this sweet?”

“I like your tail,” Tara said shyly. “It’s very pretty.”

“Thank you,” said Jenny proudly. “I take good care of it.”

“Fine,” said Giles. “Come down.”

Willow picked Tara up bridal-style (Tara giggled, holding onto her bundle of food) and floated neatly down to the boat, landing next to Giles.

“Is that a people thing?” said Jenny, impressed. “I don’t generally see a lot of them doing that.”

“Willow’s magic,” said Tara proudly.

“Really,” said Jenny with interest.

“I’ve heard legends about mermaids having some affinity with magic themselves,” said Willow to Jenny as Tara climbed off her lap. Giles was feeling a bit left out all of a sudden. “Do you know how to levitate or anything?”

Jenny shook her head. “Sometimes I can make things come true if I say them with enough meaning,” she said, “but that’s about the extent of my magical abilities.”

“Ooh, not a lot of humans can do that, either!” Willow buttered a slice of bread, handing it to Jenny. “I don’t know if it’ll taste as good soggy.”

“Do you not use a spoon for this?” Jenny sounded baffled. “Rupert said you use spoons to minimize cleanup.”

“Not for everything,” Willow explained, giving Giles a gently reproving look. Giles was quite irritated by this and took a resentful spoonful of porridge. “We use forks and knives for some things, spoons for other things, and our hands for a few things. Bread’s a finger food for us.”

“Okay,” said Jenny. “Wow.” She glanced a little shyly at Willow’s blouse. “Are those—flowers?”

“Tara embroidered them,” said Willow with an adoring glance at her lover. “She’s very talented.”

“Embroidered,” Jenny repeated, frowning slightly.

“It’s like—” Willow fumbled for words. “You use thread to—”

“Thread?”

Willow seemed very ready to fully explain the concept of thread, but just as she was opening her mouth, Buffy shouted, “Ship ahoy, Giles!”

“What?” Giles looked up, eyes wide. “We’re in the middle of the ocean.”

Buffy gave Giles a very exasperated look. “Right,” she said. “Because ships generally turn up on street corners.”

“Oh,” said Tara tensely.

“What?” Willow squinted against the sun.

“They don’t look friendly,” said Tara.

Without thinking, Giles reached for Jenny’s hand, holding it tightly. “Pirates,” he said.

“Is that bad?” said Jenny hesitantly.

“No, we should be fine,” Giles replied. “We don’t have any—”

“Oh my god!” shrieked Lady Cordelia. “Why is every ship I’m always on attacked by pirates?”

“Wow, and you choose to mention this to us now?” said Xander irritably.

“—valuables,” Giles finished, and groaned. “Lady Cordelia.”

“Lady who?” Jenny glanced up at Lady Cordelia, who was wearing one of her usual fashionable ensembles and expensive necklaces. “Ohhh boy.”

“We’d best get back on board,” Giles said nervously. “This could be dangerous. Jenny, I think it’s best for you to stay back.”

“I think you don’t know me well enough to tell me what to do,” said Jenny indignantly. “I’m not just going to sit by and watch when there are pirates around.”

“That may be,” said Giles quietly, “but the pirates won’t see you as a threat. To them, you’re just as valuable as Lady Cordelia.”

Jenny hesitated, then placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her.

Infuse your words with meaning, and the magic will stick.

“You’ll be all right,” said Jenny. “You and your crew will survive, and the pirates won’t take your ship.” Carefully, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, sealing the spell. “Just—do what you can,” she said finally. “It’ll be enough.”

Rupert looked at her with wide, slightly dazed eyes. “Right,” he said, raising his fingers to his cheek. “Yes. Quite.”

“Listen, Giles, I hate to burst your bubble, but there’s a bunch of angry pirates heading our way and that ship needs its captain up there,” said Willow.

Rupert jumped, knocking the boat. “Certainly,” he agreed, letting go of Jenny’s hands. “Jenny—I know I don’t have any control over what you choose to do, but please at least try and think about what I’m saying, all right?”

“Sure,” agreed Jenny, who still had no intention of sitting idly by under any circumstances but knew that saying she would consider it would get Rupert to head back up onto the ship. “Stay safe,” she added.

Rupert smiled nervously. “We’ll try,” he replied, and began to row the boat back towards the ship.

“Giles,” said Buffy as soon as he was back, hugging him quickly. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the pirates are close enough to board. Standard operation?”

Giles nodded. “Get them off the ship, try not to kill too many,” he agreed.

“Or any,” Buffy reminded him. “We’re not on the high seas for killing.”

“Let’s chop off some heads!” shouted Faith from the other side of the deck.

“Excuse me,” said Buffy with a rueful smile. “I need to go re-explain the concept of nonviolence to my girlfriend.”

Giles turned, facing the oncoming ship. Near the ship, he saw Jenny swimming closer.

“No,” he hissed, trying to mime disappearing under the water.

Jenny gave him an amused smile, swimming closer to the ship. “You’re really cute, you know that?” she inquired, as casually as if there weren’t pirates up ahead.

“Go away,” Giles said as firmly as he could. “I’m the captain, and I order—”

“You aren’t captain of this mermaid,” said Jenny, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a pointed look. “If I want to stay, I’ll stay.”

Giles was about to continue arguing with Jenny, but then he noticed something unusual. “I know that ship,” he said. “Why do I know that ship?” Jenny’s annoyed look faded. “Oh, what are the odds?” she said with worry.

Giles looked closer at the ship. “Bugger all,” he muttered. Painted on the hull was S.S. Eyghon.

#fic #mermaid magic #calendiles day #calendiles #fuffy #tillow #committed to job meets commitment issues #mermaid jenny au

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