No okay but imagine if Dean walked in on Cas crying. He’s hunched over with his arms wrapped around his stomach, nails digging into his sides as if warding off some immeasurable wave of pain.

His sobs no longer even make noise, they’re just gasps of air being pushed through open lips and clenched teeth. His eyes are screwed tightly shut and he just looks so infinitely tired.

Dean remembers that Castiel, his angel, has seen millennia. He’s seen civilizations crumble and the earth ruined.

At first he thinks something’s terribly wrong, remembering the leviathan, but sees the slow drips of tears rolling down his cheeks. Cas looks up, his bright blue eyes locking with green ones, and to deans surprise and horror, he sees a kind of dead acceptance in them. Its the same look he’s seen etched into his own face on the nights when everything almost became too much.

“I’m so lost.” Cas tries to say, except his voice cracks half way through, so the last word is only a whisper.




*There was a request for a sequel to Best of Both Worlds. So I’ve come up with this monstrosity– it narrates a moment of passion with each of the boys.



You were standing in the kitchen, washing up the dishes that had piled up over the last few days. Dean walked in and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Cleaning up one of your messes. Again.”

“Mmm. You know how much I appreciate you doing that, right?”

“So you keep saying.”

Dean pressed a kiss to your neck. “Why don’t you come to the bedroom and I can show you my appreciation?”

“That does sound enticing,” you said, leaning back into the embrace. “I’ll be done in about five minutes.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Dean’s arms untangled themselves from your waist and he headed out of the kitchen, but not before smacking you on the ass.


With the dishes done, you hurried down the hall towards Dean’s room. You passed Sam’s room—his door was shut. Hopefully that meant he was absorbed in research or sleeping. You didn’t want him to barge in on you and Dean.

The door to Dean’s room was open and you stepped inside. “Dean?”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you again, turning you to face Dean. His lips were on yours in an instant, his fingers tangling themselves in the fabric of your shirt. “It’s about time,” Dean said, pulling back. His eyes were dark and filled with lust.

“I could have been here faster if you’d stayed to help,” you said, your arms wrapping around Dean’s neck.

“Hmm,” Dean hummed, kissing you again. “I could have helped you,” he said, walking you back towards the bed. “But if I had,” Dean lowered you back to the mattress, his lips finding your throat. “Then this wouldn’t be nearly as rewarding for you.”

“Ah,” you said, reveling in the feel of Dean’s lips and fingers moving across your skin. “Well, they do say to stick to your strong-suits. Mine is dishes and yours–” You stopped with a gasp, Dean’s lips finding that special spot of yours. “Yours is definitely that.”

You felt Dean smile against your neck as his fingers began working the buttons on your shirt. That was one of Dean’s kinks—he liked unbuttoning garments, more than simply pulling them off. Slowly he pulled your shirt open, revealing your lace-cupped breasts.

Dean’s eyes trailed down your chest, his brow crinkling slightly. “Damn. I’m gonna have to talk to Sammy about marking you up like this.”

You looked down at your revealed skin. Splattered across it were small purple bruises, all at different stages of healing—trophies from your week with Sam. “Jealous, Dean? You know, you could always leave your own.” You ran a few fingers through Dean’s hair, drawing his attention back up to your face.

“That’s exactly what I’m planning on doing,” Dean said, a sinful smile crossing his lips before dipping down to your chest, kissing and nibbling.

Your fingers danced around the hem of Dean’s shirt, pulling it upwards. He obliged and sat up, pulling the shirt over his head. You took the moment to pull your own shirt off. Dean leaned forward and kissed you, his fingers looping around and unhooking your bra, tossing it to the ground. His hands took the place of the cups, squeezing ever so slightly.

As you laid back down, Dean’s hands slid down your torso, ending at the clasp on your jeans. In the blink of an eye, the pants had come undone and Dean was sliding them down your legs, panties included. As the denim hit the floor, he began to kiss up your legs, enjoying the smooth, tender skin of your upper thighs. The closer he got to your center, the more turned on you became, the evidence apparent between your legs. Dean saw and took advantage, carefully avoiding the place where you longed to be touched.

After too many minutes of such teasing, you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Dean, if you don’t get up here immediately, I’m going to take this party to Sam’s room.”

Dean chuckled but gave in. He sat up and removed the last of his clothes. Reaching over to the bedside table, he grabbed a condom and quickly slipped it on. Then he laid back on top of you, his weight a comfort, his erection poking at your entrance. You raised your hips as you looped your arms around his neck; your lips met as your bodies became one.

The passion continued to build between the two of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Dean slipped his hand down between the two of you, his thumb finding that little bundle of nerves. As he drew circles on it you felt that familiar clenching. Dean moaned encouragement, picking up the pace of both his hips and his thumb. You were filled with that feeling of lightness as the edges of your vision were obscured by stars.

As your waves of pleasure began to ebb away, Dean’s own peak was reached, your name escaping from between his lips. A few moments later he rolled away. His arm looped around you and pulled you towards him. You sighed in content as Dean pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I’m going to have to start doing dishes more often, if that’s how you’re going to repay me.”



“Hey, you.”

Sam glanced up from his laptop, a smile growing on his face. “Hey yourself.”

“Dean’s gone for a few hours,” you said, walking over to him. “What do you say we have a little fun?” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Sam stood up, his hand snaking into yours, leading you toward his room. As soon as you crossed the threshold, Sam was all over you, his mouth attacking yours, his tongue begging entrance. As you obliged, you felt him gripping the hem of your shirt, desperately pulling it up. The two of you broke apart long enough for your shirts to be discarded. You took advantage of the break and pushed Sam towards the bed; he’d barely had a chance to bounce once before you wrapped yourself around him.

Sam allowed you to have control for a few minutes before flipping you over. He gently pinned you to the bed as he reached over for the bedside table. You heard the drawer open and suddenly there was a cold feeling encircling your wrists, accompanied by a soft clicking noise. You looked up—Sam had handcuffed you to his headboard. You tested the cuffs but they didn’t budge.

“Well,” you said, looking back at Sam. “This is new.”

The smile he gave you was terrifying and thrilling. “Well, I’ve walked in on Dean viewing a lot of things on his laptop. I decided to try some of them out myself.”

Sam began to kiss his way down your body, paying proper attention to your breasts, your nipples peaking under the soft cloth of your bra. Sam’s lips continued down to the waist of your jeans, where his fingers soon followed. He released you of the garment before gently prodding your sensitive, panty-covered area. You mewled slightly, twisting your body, requiring more friction.

“Patience, baby girl,” Sam muttered, his breath tickling your inner thigh. He quickly ripped your panties down your legs, exposing you to him fully. “You are so beautiful. You know that?”

You purred as Sam gently slipped a finger into you, his thumb nudging your clit. You arched your back, straining against the cuffs. Your fingers ached to run themselves through his hair, your arms longed to wrap around his neck.

Sam slowly tortured you a little longer, bringing you up to the edge of orgasm before sitting up and removing his own undergarments. You moaned when he pulled away—you’d been so close it hurt. Sam dipped back into the bedside table and you heard the familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper. He nudged your legs open with his knee and settled himself in between them, carefully lining himself up.

“You ready, baby?”

You nodded.

“Let me hear you.”

The gruff tone of his command sent a new flood of desire between your legs. “I need you, Sam. Please.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Sam slowly pushed into you, filling you. He nestled against you, your hips aligning, before pulling out. He set a pace and you moaned with pleasure. Sam’s lips returned to your neck, one hand returning to your breast.

Your pleasure began to peak again. “Sam.”

He worked you through your orgasm but he was still going strong. All your nerve endings felt like they were on fire. Soon you felt that familiar clenching coming back into your lower region. Sam slipped a hand under your ass, lifting you slightly. The new position was thrilling, your g-spot being bumped with every thrust.

The two of you peaked at the same time, a chorus of moans coming from both of you. Sam pulled out and pressed a kiss to your forehead before reaching over for the key to the cuffs. He tossed the cuffs onto the bedside table and gently took your wrists in his hands. He pressed a kiss to each of them, rubbing small circles on them with his thumbs.

“You okay?”

“Mmmm,” you murmured, twisting so that you were leaning against his chest.

Sam wrapped his arms around you as he pulled the covers up, tucking them around the two of you. He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”