Central Park

Scents of Home

2024-10-26T13:22:12Z

Title: Scents of Home
Author: sam_is_my_safe_word

Artist: malefantasy

Other Pairing(if applicable:

Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Feminine Dean Winchester, Masculine Dean Winchester, Mental Breakdown, Homophobia, Homophobic language, Dacryphilia, internalized mysogyny, Internalized homophobia, feminization

Summary: Home means a lot of different things to different people. For Same, when he thinks of home, he thinks of his brother. They've both changed a lot over the years, learned a lot about themselfs and each other. But no matter where they are, as long as they're together, it's home.

Art Live Journal

Story: Tumblr | Ao3

Art: Not What I Ordered

2020-03-31T18:48:21Z

Artpost: Not What I ordered
Artwork by: malefantasy
Made for:jdl71's fic Not What I ordered.
Rating: Mature
Tags: Meet-Cute, Gossip, Speculation, Lies, Deliveries, Angst, Loneliness, mixup, Roses
Summary: Jensen decides to end the office speculation on why he’s single by having roses delivered to himself. Things don’t go exactly as he planned.

Story link: AO3

ART: Power of Touch

2020-02-22T20:40:32Z

Title: The Power of Touch
Author: yonkyu
Artist: gotaprettymouth
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: General, implied future wincest
Length: 10675
Warnings/Tags: General, Brotherly Love, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Breakdown, Hurt Dean, Supportive Sam, Implied Future Wincest

Summary: Sam was upset with Dean for accepting the Mark of Cain. He set in motion a plan to have the Mark of Cain removed with the help of Rowena. The plan worked and the Mark was removed from Dean’s body. Sam did not care about the consequences of removing the Mark would have on his brother. Sam discovered the consequences would be an eyeopener into Dean’s worst fears and secrets coming to life. Can Sam help his brother overcome this new battle together, like the brothers they always were, or could there be more than what they bargained for? And will Dean accept the help and support he’s been secretly craving from Sam to get better?

Link to Fic: AO3

Art: Accompany Me

2019-12-04T19:44:32Z

Fic Title: Accompany Me
Author: dreamerjules
Artist: malefantasy
Fandom/Genre: RPS
Pairing(s): Jensen/Misha
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 6511
Warnings: Asexuality, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship
Summary: Romance without sex. How does that work?

Link to Fic: AO3

Art: Who's On Top - SPN RB

2019-11-20T01:57:59Z

Title: Who's on Top?

Artist: malefantasy

Author:theymp

Summary: Battling insecurity and a compulsion to kill the help, Crowley and demon!Dean compete to see who will end up on top.

Link to fic: to be added

Art: Abandoned Hope

2019-02-18T17:11:14Z

Here is art I did for a Dean Winchester Big Bang

Title: Abandoned Hope
Author: jdl71
Artist: malefantasy (formerly be_my_precious)
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Tags/Warnings: sibling incest ,incest, hurt/comfort, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, childbirth, mpreg, Top Sam Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe
Summary: Dean discovers something shocking about himself. A misunderstanding happens between himself and Sam, seeming to devastate Dean. Without seeing a way around the situation, Dean leaves Sam without a word. Can Dean deal with everything on his own?

Sample chaper header:

Link to fic: AO3

Art: Mírë

2019-02-11T21:56:08Z

Done for the Dean Winchester Big Bang

Title: Mírë
Author: blackrose_17
Artist: malefantasy (formerly be_my_precious)
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Dean/Sam, Castiel/Meg, Benny/Max, Eileen/Alicia, Rowena/Clea, Mick/Ketch, Dean & Sam & Jack, past Lucifer/Sam, past Dean/Cassie
Length: 11,725
Warnings/Tags: Past abuse, non-related Sam and Dean
Summary: Dean Winchester had an okay life as sheriff of Sioux Falls, sure his love life was a little slow but that was fine with him then everything changed the day Sam Wesson and his son Jack and friends moved into the empty Wesson Manor. Dean finds his world changed as he is drawn to the single father and his young son and his life is changed as his eyes opened to the fact magic is real and Sam is being hunted by someone who refuses to let him go. Dean will do whatever it takes to protect his new family.

Link to fic: LJ | DW | AO3

Art for World Without Pity for Sam Winchester Big Bang

2019-02-06T23:13:27Z

Title: World Without Pity

Author: tammyrenh

Artist: malefantasy (previously be_my_precious)

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Word count: 17,380

Rating: Explicit

Artist's note: manip used in the last piece is done by decisivelychallenged on tumblr here

Summary: Canon divergence beginning with the start of "Born Again Identity". As a result of the car hitting him Sam has a broken arm, and instead of finding Cas, Dean breaks Sam out of the hospital. Dean takes Sam to a remote cabin (where there is only one bed cause - well - just cause) and where Sam deals with a lack of sleep, intense pain from his broken arm, and his visions of Lucifer. By accident, Sam discovers that Dean's touch causes Lucifer to vanish, albeit temporarily. However, constant touching causes other issues to develop between the brothers, and their relationship takes a turn neither may be prepared for.

Link to fic: AO3

J2 RB Art: These Real and Vivid Dreams

2018-11-30T03:35:53Z

This art was done for the j2_reversebang

Title: These Real and Vivid Dreams
Author: wincest_whore
Artist: malefantasy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: drug use, character death(s), suicide, no happy ending
Word Count: 26,410
Summary: After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, Jensen spirals down a sark path. Will his friends be able to pull him back from this road? Or will he succumb to his darkk impulses?
Artist notes: I had SO much un working with wincest_whore on this! She really took my vision I had for my art and made it come alive. She is an amazing writer and I really encourage you to read her fic!
Link to Fic: LJ Masterpost

Art: Nighthawks Soaring the Skies

2018-11-26T22:19:08Z

Art post for spn_reversebang

Title: Nighthawks Soaring the Skies
Author: sepherim_ml
Artist: malefantasy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Summary: Castiel has not built any human relationship since he moved to town, he seldom talks, his colleagues never invite him out for a drink and his only family is an estranged brother. Then, one fateful rainy day, Castiel meets a lonely stranger in a diner.

Link to Fic: AO3

Eldritch BB Art: Something in the Fog

2018-11-07T14:05:27Z

Title:Something in the Fog
Author: MalMuses
Artist: malefantasy
Rating: NC-17
Summary:

Finally settling into some semblance of normalcy after Cas comes back from the Empty, Sam finds a case up in New England. In one historic town, people are losing their minds and drowning themselves in a nearby river.
Sam and Dean set off alone, only to quickly call Cas to their aid when they realize that the unnerving town of Dunwich is hiding far more than your average witch or ghoul.
Drawn into investigating a cult that worships a being far beyond their comprehension, Team Free Will doesn’t understand quite how much danger they are in...

Artist notes: I had the pleasure to work with the AMAZING MalMuses on this. I had so much fun making this art for her, and you definitely have to red the story! Also, the last piece of art has a manip from sarenX on supernaturally-shameless.tumblr.com
Story Link: AO3

And a sample Chapter header:

SPRB Art: Blood in His Hands

2018-11-06T13:02:51Z

Title: Blood in His Hands
Author: sepherim_ml
Artist: malefantasy
Art Rating:PG-13
Story Rating:NC-17
Artists note: This is for the SPNRB 2018.
Link to Fic: AO3

Original Art:

Art: Just Ghosts

2018-06-21T23:03:01Z

Title: Just Ghosts
Author: excoyote
Artist: be_my_precious
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Summary: Sam is brought back from hell broken into parts, memory gone, and fragile. He and Dean recuperate at Bobby's, and Dean teaches Sam how to be Sam. Having no memory is frustrating, and with a weak body, too, Sam finds himself leaning on Dean more and more. Something is wrongDean is conversing with Sam in a language Sam doesn't speak, pining after something they had that Sam doesn't have a name for. Sam's memories lurk around every corner, surprising him at random. He discovers an entire part of his identity, a happy, self-assured woman, has been deleted from his memory, locked behind The Wall due to a dangerous connection to Hell, and Dean was desperately in love with her. Sam struggles to come to terms with his identity and takes terrifying dips in icy Hell memories, watching herself get torn apart, but never him. Only her, until her very core was wrapped with the devil's, with pain. Despite the inevitable danger, Sam tries to make himself whole again, falling in love with Dean and descending deeper into the rabbit hole.
Artist's note: It was such a pleasure working with excoyote on this. He has brought forth an amazing piece of fiction that not only touched my heart, but resonated deeply in my soul. Thank you so much for letting me bring this story to life!

Sample Chapter Header

Link to fic: Just Ghosts

Art: The Morning After

2018-06-06T15:32:49Z

Written for the spn_bigpretzel Spring Fic Exchange
Recipient: milly_gal
Author:jj1564
Artist: be_my_precious
Original Prompt: I combined all of Milly’s excellent prompts –

"Did you seriously think I wouldn't notice?!"
"Come on man, it's just a tiny prick and a few words of latin."
Any and all drunken shenanigans!

Warnings/Spoilers: implied wincest, some swearing
Characters: Sam and Dean
Rating: pg13
Genre: Gen, het, humor
Word count: 1520
A/N: Thanks to be_my_precious for the great artwork, their expressions are perfect, as is Sam’s tattoo! Thanks to dizzojay for the read-through and encuragement. Please note, I Googled the Latin so I have no idea how correct it is! But ‘fratris mei amo’ is I love my brother, and ‘frater optimus’ is my brother is the best. Also posted on AO3.
Summary: Sam wakes up after a night out drinking with Dean and has a very sore chest – he knew he shouldn’t have let Dean talk him into drinking shots...

FIC

malefantasy @ 2018-03-01T19:16:00

2018-03-02T00:16:24Z

Entry reposted from https://milly-gal.livejournal.com/1952229.html.

Art for Hold Back the River by Seaavery

2018-02-11T17:16:27Z

I was very lucky to be able to make art for Seaavery's "Hold Back the River." It is a gorgeous story, and I highly recommend you go and check it out. So, without further ado...

Title: Hold Back the River
Author: Seaavery
Artist: malefantasy
Rating: Teen
Pairing (or Gen): Dean Winchester/Cassie Robinson, Dean Winchester/Adult!Tina (About A Boy Episode), and Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy
Length:45,586
Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Cancer
Summary: Dean Winchester lost his mother in a tragic car accident at the age of nine. The accident caused his father, John, to slip further and further into a pit of depression and a bottle of booze, leaving Dean to try and pick up the pieces of their shattered family. As an adult, Dean left Lawrence behind to live life out on the road. He picks up odd jobs in restaurants and even briefly settles down. But ten years after leaving, John is diagnosed with cancer and told he only has a short time to live. Can Dean forgive his father and come to terms with the past? Or is the damage that was done just too much to overcome?

Link to Fic: AO3
Link to Art:; LJ

Fic: Beautifully Broken

2018-02-04T22:38:27Z

Title: Beautifully Broken
Author: malefantasy
Beta: dreamsofspike
Pairings: Crowley/Dean; very brief mention Sam/Dean/Castiel
Length: 1702
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dom/sub, explicit language
Summary: AU after Season 12. It's been five years since the tear in time was closed, and Dean and Co. find themselves retired in a home of their own. One night, someone Dean thought to be dead shows up in his bedroom, and he completely surrenders himself, like always.

Dean sat down on his bed - his soft, comfortable king-sized bed. He had honestly never thought he’d be able to say he had anything close to it – ever. And it’d been his now for three years. The house was just as surprising. He and Sam had been too busy dealing with Lucifer’s offspring to notice much what Cas had been up to. It was only once they made the decision to retire that they realized he’d been busy securing a real estate deal behind their backs.

It was still quite curious how Castiel, who still didn’t have the best people skills, had managed to buy a house. He swore he didn’t use any angelic magic, and once he met the realtor, Dean understood. She was practically salivating over Cas, who seemed quite oblivious. It was perfectly clear that she probably would’ve done anything for him. Too bad she had no chance. Most angels didn’t really do that kind of thing. Cas was a bit different from most angels; but even so, she didn’t have the right parts for Castiel to take an interest.

Boy, do I know that.

So, thanks to the excellent deal, he, Sam, and Cas lived in a three-bedroom ranch-style house in Kansas. At first, they had warded the hell out of the thing. Their decision to retire didn’t mean that all the bad things would just stop trying to kill them, and like it or not, they dealt with those bad things a few times that first year. Eventually, though, they were left in peace. They took the warding down the previous year, only leaving an alarm in place in case something tried to get in. It hadn’t gone off once.

Dean sighed and stretched a bit, the muscles in his back and arms were tight, making him all the more tired. And I was promised a night of peace, finally. Now, tired meant pajamas instead of sleeping in your jeans, and it was one of those things he had really grown to love. It had seemed strange at first, but now even the thought of sleeping in denim just made him uncomfortable.

“Dean Winchester.”

Dean whipped his head around and stared. He was completely unarmed. “Crowley?” Confused, he wondered if he was dreaming, but it became clear that he wasn’t when he could feel the air around him shift.

Wait… the alarm didn’t go off. Was it done wrong? And… Crowley’s dead.

A chill went down his spine, and he tried to remember if he had anything in his room to defend himself.

“In the flesh.” Crowley smiled. “Oh, and you needn’t bother looking; you’ve no weapons at hand, I’m obviously not dead, and your alarm system is so pitiful, I dismantled it in seconds.”

“I… I saw you die!” It was a shock to the system. Five years ago, he had watched as Crowley sacrificed himself to close a tear in reality. One where Lucifer was permanently trapped. He had seen Crowley do something he never thought he would.

“Ah… yes. You did. But you see, you forget that yours truly always has a contingency plan. Not to say I also still had a few demons loyal to me. I had to wait, of course, but what’s four years when you have an eternity? Besides, I quite like my new job.”

Dean studied the demon standing in front of him; it was definitely Crowley. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind. He was still quite wary, though. Crowley had always had a twisted relationship with them in the past, as it served his best interest, and they had been fairly sure he wouldn’t harm them then. They weren’t completely stupid though. Now, however, was a different story. Crowley was standing in his bedroom where he had nothing to defend himself with, and there was no reason for the demon to let him live.

Wait…

“Four years? It’s been five.”

He watched as Crowley gave him a wicked grin. “Noticed that, did you? This last year I was a bit… preoccupied. Speaking of, how’s it been living with Sam and Castiel lately?”

Crowley’s grin became wider. Dean froze. His mind shuffled through all the debauchery, the loss of control. Him, Sam, and Cas. All the time. Just thinking about it made him flush with heat that quickly pooled in his stomach. He suddenly wasn’t tired anymore. All he wanted was –

“Yes, what do you want, Dean? It seems you’ve enjoyed this last year with them. Was it always you who gave up control?” Crowley’s eyes glowed. “Of course it was. It’s always been that way. You can thank me for that, Squirrel. This completely depraved lifestyle you’ve been living is all because of me.” Dean stared, his mind working overtime. “You see, my new job is basically a free pass to suggest weak souls turn towards the sins of the flesh. It’s quite enjoyable to watch them fall. Your situation needed a bit more than suggestion, but since we were all such good friends…” Another smile. “So, I ask again… what… do… you… want?”

The heat intensified as a scene from long ago flashed into his mind, and he couldn’t keep the moan from escaping his lips. Closing his eyes, he remembered it so clearly. And then another time, and another, all the things they’d done. “Oh, God.” The memories were piling up one on top of another until he couldn’t think of anything else and ended up falling to his knees and leaning into the touch on his cheek. Oh, he so wanted… so much.

“I see you’re remembering some of our old times. Those were fun, weren’t they? Which one is your favorite, Dean? When I would tie you up and leave you helpless as I kept whispering filthy things into your ear?”

Dean responded with another moan. There was no way he could say a thing right now. “Or was it those times I made you choke around my cock, gagging on it the whole time?” Dean shook with pleasure and leaned forward, searching for some contact. “Or perhaps it was those times I fucked you and made it feel like you were fucking yourself? You used to fall apart so easily when I did that. Oh, and how I loved watching you break when you were completely at my mercy.”

Dean couldn’t open his eyes, but he felt it when Crowley roughly stroked his cock through the jeans he still had on. “Please...” he begged. He needed this so bad. He needed to fall apart in a way that only Crowley knew how to make him do. He whined when the hand was taken away, one particular time suddenly clear in his mind. Hours of pure, sweet torture.

“Oh? That one? You want to be tied up, don’t you, Dean?” He just moaned in reply. “You want me to spend hours licking, sucking, fucking you, not letting you come until I want you to? If at all?” Dean could feel the heat shift as Crowley walked a circle around him. “It might not be the memory I would’ve chosen, but I’d be quite pleased to oblige. So?”

“Please…”

That was all Crowley needed to hear. Before he knew it, Dean was naked on his bed. He was tied up, so he couldn’t move, with a ball gag in place. He felt so exposed and vulnerable, and that just made him throb harder. Moaning, he waited for the first touch, and when he was suddenly impaled on Crowley’s cock, pleasure spiked behind his eyes and he just lay there and took it, took everything.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

He was wrecked. He felt the dried tears of frustration from when Crowley just kept ghosting his hand over him, not letting him come, even though he was a second away from the edge. His muscles ached in such a good way as he felt Crowley untying him. He knew the demon could snap his fingers and all the rope would just disappear, but he also knew Crowley loved untying him slowly, as his touch became gentle and soothing. Pretty soon, he was completely untied and all that was left was the ball gag.

“You’re so beautiful when I break you.”

Loving hands wiped away the dried tears, and he heard the click as the last of his bonds were taken away. He kept his eyes closed and breathed in deeply, letting his aching muscles relax. He knew Crowley was still there… he always stayed for a bit. He also knew Crowley was still impeccably dressed, not a spot of dirt or lint on him. He felt hands on his chest, followed by a wet washcloth being run over his whole body. Dean just lay there and enjoyed as he was wiped down. Sleep could’ve easily overtaken him, but he craved the tender touch after hours of being used. He felt the washcloth being taken away and the tender kiss placed on his forehead.

Dean felt like he did years earlier, when he was with Crowley. He felt completely loved. He knew people would have never understood, and when they weren’t in the bed, their animosity toward each other was quite clear. He listened as Crowley opened one of the drawers, and then felt soft material laid on his stomach.

Dean’s ear tingled as he felt breath against his ear. “See you tonight, Dean.”

He knew the instant that Crowley left, because he immediately felt alone. That’s the one thing that made his heart ache. He didn’t ever care what Crowley was in these times, and the need to be wrapped up in loving arms was never an option… only a dream. So, when he felt the air shift again, he was confused, but didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t care what happened to him right now, he was still reliving the tender touches that were so precious to him. When he felt a weight on the bed and another naked body lying beside him, he didn’t flinch. And when he was wrapped up in the loving arms he always dreamed about, he finally let sleep take him.

Thank you.
AO3

Art for "I Wouldn't Mind a Kiss, but not the Puppy Kind

2018-02-03T22:35:23Z

So, ladies and gents, for the Dean Winchester Big Bang, I have the honor of posting art for the fic I Wouldn't Mind a Kiss but Not the Puppy Kind.

Title: I wouldn't Mind a Kiss, but not the Puppy Kind
Author: blackrose_17
Artist: malefantasy
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing (or Gen): Dean/Sam AU
Length:
Warnings/Tags: none

Summary: All his life Dean wanted to be a firefighter he never expected to be a father as well but he utterly adores his daughter Leia. Dean is happy being a single father with a few flings here and there but he never expected that kindergarten teacher Sam Singer would rock his world once again. Now he finds himself dealing with his feelings for Sam and a daughter who wants a puppy and isn't above using her charms to get one. Can they both get what they want?

Link to Fic: (AO3)
Link to Art: (LJ)

Xmas Exchange Gift for jj564

2017-12-23T20:28:41Z

Helllllllloooooo! I posted this over at the comm a couple of days ago, but since it's for jj1564 I wanted to post it here as well :)

Title: A Winchester Carol (sorta)
Gifter: be_my_precious
Giftee:jj1564
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean
Word count/Medium: 4132/fic
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Suicidal ideation (just a reference to it)
Summary: Dean starts thinking about how everyone's life would be different if he left. He knew they would be better off, especially Sam.
Credits (pics): everything from google except sam/dean on left - that is travellerintime74 at deviantART
A/N: I took the "It's a Wonderful Life" idea and brought in a little Christmas Carol.
A/N #2: You are my biggest cheerleader as I try to write again, so I loved the fact that I got you for my Secret Santa. It's quite fitting that my re-entry into the world of fic is a gift for you. I hope you like it!

It was Christmas Eve, and Dean sat in his room at the bunker. Ever since Sam and Castiel brought him back from being a demon, he felt the guilt wrap around his heart, getting worse every day, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. So, he just sat there, on his bed, head in his hands, when he saw the pictures peeking out below the book he had on his bedside. Another book from trying to get rid of this mark. Dean lifted it and took the pictures in his hands. It had been awhile since he’d looked at them… far before even getting the mark. He took a deep breath and stared at the one on top.

It was him and Sam from a few years back, standing together, arms wrapped around each other. It was a bit fuzzy, but that’s what you get when you ask Castiel to take a picture, apparently. Dean stared at him and Sam. They looked so content, blurriness aside. Before purgatory, before the trials, before… well, all the things that happened to them, hardening their hearts. Well, at least my heart. He put the photo aside, looking at the next one.

Another blurry one, but that didn’t matter, and Dean’s mouth lifted at the corners into a little smirk. Castiel had become obsessed with the need to take a selfie after he saw some girls on the street taking one. He remembered when Castiel had come to him asking about it, since he found it quite strange. But once he found out what it was, he kept going around trying to get everyone to take one with him. Sam, being as tall as he is, wouldn’t fit in the screen unless Castiel was completely cut out of it, so, defeated, he kept trying with everyone else. For some reason, he hadn’t asked Dean to take one with him, and Dean remembered how relieved he had been. Then, after trying to take one with Crowley (which ended in disaster, of course), Cas came to him and he finally got to take that selfie.
Oddly enough, Crowley himself didn’t mind getting his picture taken as long as an angel in a trench coat wasn’t begging him for a hug to take that elusive selfie. The next picture was of him sitting at the bar, one of his classic fruity drinks in hand. It was taken without his knowledge (or so Dean thought), and so the act that Crowley constantly put on wasn’t there… it was… raw emotion. A few days later, he saw Crowley again and was warned to never try to sneak a picture of him again.

Then came the old pictures. Himself as a toddler being lifted into the air by his Dad. Tears started to build up in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. There were pictures of his parent’s wedding day, of mom standing next to him pregnant with Sam, and a bunch of pictures of baby Sam. The tears that he had wiped away started flowing freely down his cheeks as he looked at the pure innocence that once was. From the moment his brother was born, Dean had been in love, and promised himself that he would never let anything bad happen to him. I guess I broke that promise. He threw the pictures onto his bed, trying to forget all his memories. Trying not to cry.

After Sam had left for Stanford, Dean’s heart was broken. He knew his little brother wanted something other than the hunting lifestyle Dean embraced since dad had gotten him his first gun. So, he let him go, kept on hunting, and eventually had to ask for his help. I wonder what he would be like if I never did that.

Dean looked around his room. He saw all the little touches that he put up, trying to make it like a home. It wasn’t a large room, but it was more than he had since he was four. Wiping his hand over his face again, he tried to hold back the anguish he was feeling, and then his eyes settled on the guns and other weapons on his wall. Dean stared at them for quite a while, the turmoil in his head getting even worse. He got up and walked over to the wall, his hand settling on one.

I could do it. I don’t need to keep up this charade anymore. And Sammy would be better off. He could leave the hunting lifestyle again… finish school… do what he really wants to do. I know he hates what we do. Dean’s hands tightened on the gun he had placed his hand on.
Crowley heard the blasted alarm before all the red strobe lights started. Of course, he was in the middle of his nightly briefing, and couldn’t hear anything other than the annoying siren coming from his bed chambers. Waving his hand, he dismissed everyone and went to see what the bloody hell was wrong with them this time. Right as he entered the room, his hand slammed onto the off button and he was greeted with blessed silence once again.

Walking over to the nightstand, he picked up the piece of paper that would explain exactly what was going on. He had no idea who had set this whole thing up, but he would love to have a nice little torture session with them. Reading what was going on, he looked up. “Dearest Heaven, why do you want me to do your job?!” Crowley sighed. This whole restructuring of the system had been annoying him for weeks, and now that it was a Winchester involved, he couldn’t pawn it off on one of his demons. No, he had to deal with this one himself.

..................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Dean’s hands loosened his grip on the gun. He had no idea what to do anymore. He knew he wanted Sam to be happy, and if him leaving would do it, there was no question in his mind what needed to be done. Still crying, Dean walked back over to his bed and sat down. He was so confused. And hurt. He thought about going to see Sam, but he was most likely sleeping, and Dean didn’t know if he could see his brother’s face right now.

Suddenly he heard a rustling and looked up. There, in the middle of his room, stood Crowley, wiping off his suit.

Confused, Dean looked at him quizzically. Why am I having a dream about the Demon who got him into this whole mess? “Crowley?”
The King of Hell looked up and straight at Dean, “Hello, squirrel.”

“What are you doing here?” Dean was shocked that he wasn’t having a dream. Now he had to deal with whatever the wanker wanted. At least it’s a break from myself.

Crowley sighed again. “Well, I’m not just paying you a friendly visit, I can tell you that. You’ve interrupted quite an important meeting.”

“Wha –"

“Someone seems to have installed a ‘Winchester in trouble’ alarm in my chambers that I’ve been trying to dismantle for months now.” Dean watched Crowley closely. “Heaven, apparently, decided to change the old guard and left all of the… how do I say… future… visions to hell. They were not, obviously, thinking of the huge uproar that it caused.”

It was very weird to have Crowley in his bedroom, but at this point it was better than having Sam there… or Castiel. “What about the past and present?” Of course, I would ask about a silly thing like that.

“Dean, you know your past and your present. Besides, the whole debacle would mean that feathers would do anything he had to just to make sure he was the one taking care of that.”

“And you?”

“You are a Winchester. You seem to keep forgetting that. I send one of my demons… it would be a suicide mission. So, I had to do this one myself… I can’t really afford to lose anyone at this time…”

“And how did you know that I wouldn’t kill you?”

“Well, you didn’t. And besides, we’re old pals. There was no doubt that we would start with some chit-chat.”

Sighing, Dean just threw his hands up into the air. “Ok, fine! What wonderful things would you have shown me? Honestly, I’ve got things to do…” Dean looked down quickly, and back up at Crowley. “So?”

When Crowley didn’t answer him, he stared at the demon walking silently around his room. He was taking everything in, especially the wall of weapons, eventually getting to his bed. Dean just placed his head back into his hands. He just wanted Crowley to go away.
“Scrapbooking, are we?”

Dean looked up to Crowley. At the mention of those pictures, the tears started again. I can’t be believe I’m crying in front of Crowley, of all people. “You wouldn’t understand…” Dean paused, taking a breath. “You’re not human. You have no heart.”

“I did once. Besides, I can’t just tell you, I must show you. It’s a bit of a… requirement. I’ve already searched for any loopholes and have come up with nothing. Now, if you don’t mind?”

Dean kept staring. Crowley was clearly telling him to come with him, but there was this little pocket of fear in the back of his head that he couldn’t shake loose. I don’t want to see... “You’re going to teleport me somewhere? I don’t like the –”

“I’m different than feathers. I’m actually quite hurt you don’t remember.”

“I don’t want–”

Dean felt Crowley grab him by the arm. “Put on your Sunday best…”
The room was probably painted a shade like “eggshell”, with the walls lined in scriptures. It was fairly modern, chairs instead of pews, and a small stage up at the front of the room. The seats were filled, and some people were going to grab more from another room to make sure everyone had a seat.

Dean took it all in. Why are we at a church? He turned towards Crowley, “Why are we here?”

“Just watch.”

Suddenly, a young man, hair cut into a short, modern-day style walked towards the front of the room. He had a nice, casual suit and tie on. And then he turned around to face the room.

“Sam?” Dean stared at his brother… or what at least looked like his brother. What threw him off the most wasn’t the suit and tie, but the short hair. The long waves were gone, changing the shape of his face to something Dean couldn’t remember seeing for a long time. As he settled on the stage, he gave a warm smile to everyone there. Still the same smile…

“Good morning, everyone! Isn’t it great to be in the House of the Lord today?” The people around the room nodded their heads, or clapped, and there were more than a few amens. “I’m glad to see you all here! If you remember, last week we continued our discussion on sins listed prominently in the word, according to the Ten Commandments. We talked about the Sixth last week, thou shall not murder. And we discussed how—”

Dean turned sharply to Crowley. “Why is my brother Preaching? How could—”

“I told you. Just watch.”

“… rage, anger, and others were covered by the word “murder,” and how all sins are a violation of the Ten Commandments. This week is the Seventh Commandment, you shall not commit adultery. As with all of them, adultery is a broad term for sins of the flesh –”

Whipping back around, Dean hissed, “seriously… what is going on?!”

“Have you always followed direction so poorly? I said… watch.”

“… probably the hardest for us Pastors to talk about, especially me, since most of you have heard my story. The Lord blessed me, though, and I am living proof that God can deliver you from anything, as long as you want it. So, when I talk about the sin of homosexuality, I know what it looks like from both sides. All of you, and probably most non-believers, know the scriptures in Leviticus. It’s often said by those non-believers, though, that Leviticus is a worn-out book of the Old Testament, that it lists sins that aren’t sins anymore... And, I could spend my time arguing over that fact, but I’m going to turn to the New Testament book of Romans, chapter 1, verse 26-27…”

Dean’s mind focused on his brother, not even hearing what he was saying. He watched Sam’s body language as he spoke… and he knew that what he was talking about was important to him. He blocked out the sound as long as he could, but eventually it filtered back in.

“…1 Timothy, chapter 1, verse 10. ‘The law is for people who are sexually immoral, or who practice homosexuality, or are slave traders, liars—”

Tears filled his eyes as he watched his baby brother tear apart everything that they had stood for. His heart actually ached… he didn’t want to see anymore. He couldn’t. Turning back to Crowley, on the verge of outright sobbing, asked to leave. “Please, just…”

..................................................................................................................................................................................................................
The scene before him instantly disappeared, and Dean found himself back in his bedroom. Crowley was still there. “I—I can’t.”

“I had to show you that, squirrel. That’s what happens to Moose if you go through with ending it. He wasn’t exactly sane after he found you.”

Dean choked back more tears, the image of what he saw burned into his mind.

“I assure you, right now your brother is soundly asleep in his own bedroom. Now, we have somewhere else to go.”

“No! I can’t! Just…” his mind went fuzzy, trying to unsee, but he couldn’t. “Any more would… I can’t.”

Dean felt Crowley’s hand on his arm again. “Sorry, squirrel, I have to.”

..................................................................................................................................................................................................................
The smell made his stomach churn, and he almost threw up. Putting his hand over his mouth, he looked up and realized he was in some kind of sewer. He turned his head and took in a figure about ten feet away from him. There was a large basket sitting next to whoever it was, and it was slowly being filled up with unrecognizable things. The figure was dirty, hair unkempt, clothes almost black from all the filth, except for one little tan edge. “Castiel?”

“Yes. That’s your trusted angel sidekick. Shame, really.”

Dean continued to watch him, figuring out that the things being placed in the basket were things that he might be able to eat. Everything was silent except for the shuffling noise Castiel was making, and he just stared. Now Dean could see clearly the angel’s profile, and for some reason, he looked peaceful, which shook Dean even more than if there had been pain and sorrow etched on his face. A sudden splash caused Castiel to turn, which in turn caused Dean to see the top half of the trench coat, which was drenched in dried blood. He cast his eyes on Crowley. “Why is he so bloody?”

“Wings.”

“Wings? I – I thought they were only a shadow or… something.”

“Well, not when they rip off their wings.”

Dean was confused. Why on earth would Castiel rip off his wings? Or let someone else rip them off? Sure, he was a renegade angel, but surely even that would be considered too harsh a punishment for anyone. “What happened?”

“Feathers here became very close to Sam after your death. And when Sam ran off to get a degree in the ministry, he really didn’t have anywhere to go.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Crowley.” Anger started pooling in his stomach as he waited.

“He—well, when Moose practically ran away was when he tore them off. He thought being human may give him a better chance at seeing you again.”

White hot rage filled Dean. Surely something could have stopped this. First his brother, and now Cas. Had he hurt them that much?

Shaking his head, the anger was still within as he whipped around to see Crowley. “What about you?! You obviously knew what was going on! You could have at least reached out… and here I thought you fucking cared! … even if only a little!”

“You’re the one who did this, not ME! Besides, I was too busy in hell trying to reign you in, since you still have that bloody mark on your arm! Do you even KNOW how difficult it was to contain you without turning you back into a demon?!”

Dean’s anger settled a bit. He shouldn’t have blamed all this on Crowley, demon or not. “So that’s what happened to you when I died?”

“Well...” Dean watched as Crowley handed him something. It was a picture. Back at that bar they went to after he had become a demon. They both had on those silly cowboy hats and were hamming it up for the camera. He stared at it for a few seconds before facing Crowley again. “You?”

“Yes. It bothered me. Enough to bloody keep you from turning back into just one of the demons!”

Watching Crowley like this was unnerving. His head was cast down to the ground and without the suffocating arrogance he usually carried with him, it just felt wrong.

“So, have you decided what you’re going to do now?” He saw Crowley lift his head. “Are you going to let gigantor be something you despise? And feathers. Are you going to leave him, so he eventually tears off his wings? Or are you going to keep going? With you and Moose grating on my very last nerve?”

Stone-faced and determined, Dean answered. “I know.”

..................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Something was pounding from far away, but he just couldn’t get there. Slowly, as if a fog was being lifted, the sound became louder, until the dream finally left him. Dean opened his eyes and found out that the noise was someone knocking on his door. He cleared his throat a bit before shouting out, “I’m coming!”

As he got to his feet, he began to remember. Crowley. Sam. Castiel. Suddenly he rushed towards the door and opened it, revealing a very worried-looking Sam.

“Dean! You’re Ok! I had this dream—”

Dean grabbed Sam by the shirt and planted his lips firmly against his, cutting off what he was about to say. As his brother’s lips started to respond, Dean could feel Sam’s body relaxing as he himself slowly deepened the kiss.

They explored each other’s mouths, slowly moving together as they had done many times before. The need became too much, and soon Dean found his head being pulled in closer as they both fought for dominance, trying to express exactly how they were feeling before it became too much.

“Sam…” Dean’s body arched into his brother’s, begging for more contact, needing his brother to just take everything. “Please, Sam.” He whispered before they joined again into a heated kiss. Dean was being pushed slowly towards his bed, a moan escaping from his throat as he felt Sam’s hardness brush against his. He leaned in even more, and there was an answering moan that sent Dean even closer to the edge.

The kiss was suddenly broken. “Please what, Dean?”

All Dean could do was lean into his brother more, which brought about a guttural moan from Sam. “Please” Dean pleaded, as he started pulling at the back of Sam’s shirt, trying futilely to get it off. “Need…”

Their kiss was broken again, and he watched as his brother practically tore off his shirt, leaving his long hair a mess, just how Dean liked it. Soon, his own shirt was being pulled off him, and he raised his hands as Sam eagerly undressed him, then threw his shirt across the room. He reached down towards Sam’s hardness, being pleasantly surprised to find he was only in his boxers. Dean grasped Sam’s cock and slowly moved his hand up and down. “Can I?”

“God, yes.”

Dean slid his brother’s boxers off and made his way from his chest down to his now exposed cock. He licked at the tip, tasting him, teasing, and then started to lave his tongue over the length. He could hear the moans and begging from above as he took his time with his prize, and finally swallowed as much as he could, sucking and licking up, down. Sam tasted so good… he always did, and Dean would’ve been quite happy to drive Sam crazy until he spilled down his throat. But not this time. He started pulling away, letting Sam’s cock out into the air, give it one last kiss before moving back up his brother’s body, whispering in his ear, “I need you to come inside me.”

This drew a litany of curses, and Dean chuckled briefly as Sam started to rid him of his pants, but as soon as a hand was pressed against him, it was his time to curse. “Oh god, Sam…” Dean moaned as he felt his brothers hot, moist mouth suckling at him through his boxers. He didn’t even remember his jeans coming off, but at this point he couldn’t think as Sam continued his ministrations, finally letting up to take Dean’s boxers off. Before he knew it, the back of his knees hit his bed and he was being tossed back onto it. The sign of his brother’s strength bringing out another moan.

“Stay on your back,” Sam's breath ghosted around his ear. “I want to taste you.”

“Yes...” Dean felt Sam explore his body, his cock standing at attention, and apparently being ignored. “Sam.”

“Shh.”

He felt hot breath moving lower, settling around his hole. Just the thought made him even more aroused than he was, which he really didn’t think was possible. He felt the first lick, bringing him to the point of pure sensation, each moan coming from some primal place inside him.

“You taste so good”, he heard Sam whisper before licking over his hole again and again, until suddenly he felt his tongue trying to push in… to lick him from the inside. It kept going, licking around until he couldn’t take it anymore. But apparently Sam wasn’t done yet, and each lick brought stars into Dean’s head as he kept reaching sensory overload. “Inside”, Dean whispered, and he felt Sam give a few more licks before moving to catch his mouth in a filthy kiss, having him taste himself.

They continued kissing as Dean felt a finger inside him, using only Sam’s spit as lubrication. He ground down on the finger, trying to get it further inside. Then it hit that spot, making him arch his hips up, which were automatically pinned down by Sam’s other hand. One lead to two and then to three fingers, and Dean was going insane. All he could do was moan as they worked up inside him until they withdrew from his body. It wasn’t long before he felt Sam’s cock lining up, and then being pushed in. “Fuck!” Dean again ground down, wanting to feel every inch. Soon, a rhythm was found and both just lost themselves in it, in and out, trying to reach that point.

Dean felt Sam’s hand around his cock, moving in a brutally fast pace. If he kept it up, it would be seconds before he lost it. Just as he finished thinking that, there was white hot pleasure spiking inside him, spreading throughout his body and exploding around his eyes as he felt his hot come on his stomach.

Sam was still fucking him, and at his brother’s request, he opened his eyes and saw his brother dipping a finger into his come and licking it off, making another shot of arousal go through him. Sam’s trusts became stronger and deeper, and Dean knew he was close.

“Come inside me, Sam,” he rasped out, and felt the trusts speed up and the last, final push going deeper as Dean felt the warm come fill his insides.

Slowly, Sam pulled out as Dean brought his brother’s head down into a deep kiss, turning softer as their hearts slowed down and their breathing evened out. They just kept kissing, languidly stroking over each other’s bodies, not wanting to let each other go. Finally, they broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Promise me something.”

Dean starred quizzically at his brother, “what?”

“I felt… I thought something bad was going to happen tonight. That you…” he watched as Sam closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Please don’t leave me.”

Dean felt a strong rush of emotion, thinking back on what almost happened. “Never, Sam. Never.”

“Good. Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”

Pieces of Me

2017-12-11T21:07:30Z

Art Title: Pieces of Me
Prompt Number: S2045
Artist: malefantasy

Pieces of Me - Fic

2017-12-11T21:00:14Z

Hello all! Here is the Fic "Pieces of Me" by blackrose_17

Fic Title: Pieces of Me
Author: blackrose_17
Fandom/Genre: SPN
Pairing(s): slight Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4239
Warnings: none
Summary: Set after season 8, when Sam is in the hospital. Dean tries everything to save his baby brother, and he comes to a realization: Sam couldn't look for him.

Dean Winchester could only remember three other times he felt absolutely helpless.

The first had been when Sam had walked out the door of the motel after he revealed to him and their dad that he had gotten into Stanford. Dean had been so proud of his baby brother but it tore him to shreds to know that Sam was leaving him, but he did want his baby brother, his world, to have everything he wanted. The hunting life was not what Sam had wanted at the time.

The second was at Cold Oaks, just even thinking about it sent shivers of dread down his spine as he had been helpless to do anything as he watched the light fade from Sam's eyes. Holding Sam's limp body in his arms had been the worst moment of his life and never had Dean felt so powerless. He couldn't live without Sam, he had survived when Sam was at Stanford but that was very different than Sam being dead.. at last Sam was alive and safe there. For Sam and only for Sam would he sell his soul and he would do it in a heartbeat again if he thought any crossroad demon would take his deal he would be at the nearest crossroads.

The third time was watching as Sam beat back the devil himself to regain control of his body and then tossing himself into the cage with a pissed off devil and archangel to save everyone, to save him. Hearing Sam's "I got him, Dean," haunted him for the year he thought Sam was in the cage being tortured by Lucifer and possibly Michael.

Those had been three of the worst moments of Dean's life, but watching as Sam slowly lose his mind as the wall that kept his time in the cage was broken and he could do nothing but try to keep Sam grounded in the here and now.

He couldn't lose Sam not again, that's why he had to stop Sam from completing the trails once he learned that it would cost Sam's life. While he would have loved to see the gates of hell closed for good, they would have to find another way. He couldn’t lose Sam again the cost was just too damn high.

Now sitting beside Sam's hospital bed watching his brother clinging to life Dean once again found himself helpless to do anything. His eyes never left the slowly rising and falling of Sam's chest every breath that his brother took, he tried not to think about how shallow his breaths were.

Curling his hand around Sam's limp hand Dean clung to him.

Dean wasn’t a praying man, he left that to Sam, but right now he was willing to try anything at this point to save Sam. “Please, I’m begging anyone who can hear me don’t take him from me, not again. I know we Winchester’s aren’t your biggest fans and more than likely anyone who is hearing this prayer would rather kill me than help me and if that is the price I have to pay to save Sam then I am more than willing. Just don’t take Sam from me again or you better be ready to take the both of us because I’m not living without Sam again.” At that moment nothing mattered to Dean but saving Sam and he didn't care if it meant he brought the wrath of all the angels down on him.

Dean knew that if Sam was awake he would be telling him to find out what happened. Did the angels really fall from the sky? Of course Dean was worried about Castiel. He is a friend and one of the few angels that Dean trusts, but he couldn't... no, he wouldn't leave Sam's side.

"You hear me, Sammy, you are not going anywhere without me. You want him then you better take the both of us." Dean tossed his head back and glared at the ceiling. There was nothing that was going to rip him from Sam's side. "I can't lose you again Sammy." Dean had lived without Sam when he was trapped in the cage and he hadn't been really living.

"I should have stopped you from taking on those trails. I should have made it clear that you didn't have anything to prove to me, that you already were a hero in my eyes." Dean knows he hadn't taken it easy on Sam since he found himself out of Purgatory. He kept Sam at a distance, treated Sam like he had failed him. Benny was a friend and someone he trusted but he could never replace Sam's role in his heart… but he had been hurt and he wanted to make Sam hurt as well. So he dug deeper into Sam, showing how he failed him, and that Benny became the brother he could count on. Dean hadn't stopped to see the damage he was doing to Sam how badly he wanted to hurt Sam was damaging not just Sam but himself as well.

Dean got the wakeup call he didn't know he needed when Sam refused to stop the trails until he finally opened his heart up to Sam and pleaded with him. Losing Sam was not the price that Dean would be willing to pay to close the gates of hell. There had to be another way one that wouldn't cost him, Sam.
+*****+
Gadreel knew who Dean and Sam Winchester are, he doubted that there wasn’t an angel in all of creation who didn’t know the Winchester brothers, the two who had done the impossible and stop the apocalypse by throwing Lucifer and Michael into the cage, something his brothers and sisters had thought to be impossible. And while most of them hated the brothers he had come to admire their unbreakable bond for one another, that after everything heaven and hell had done to try and turn them against one another, their love for each other overcame it all. But as he heard Dean's prayers he knew that the brothers’ love for one another was truly unmatched and that Dean would be willing to bring the wrath of all the angels cast out of heaven in order to save his brother.

Gadreel didn't know any of his brothers or sisters who would be willing to do that. He couldn't see any of his angel siblings doing the same if need be. Dean and Sam love for one another was the kind he longed to have someday but that seemed impossible his siblings would never forgive him for the role he played in Lucifer's plan.

It wasn’t easy for Gadreel to make his way to Dean and Sam and he had to be on his guard to make sure that no one spotted him. He was relieved when he realised that he couldn’t sense any other angels in the hospital, which he was thankful for as he was weak from his fall from heaven.

Dean and Sam Winchester were not easy to track even if Dean’s prayers lead him to the hospital they were at. Something was blocking them, keeping them protected from heaven and hell. Making it a little harder for him to find them but he did.

So when Gadreel finally found Dean he was filled with excitement over taking down a few of his stuck-up siblings and a few demons. It had been so long since he had done something like that. So when Dean took him to see his brother Gadreel sucked in a deep breath as he saw the internal damage done to Sam not just by the trails, but he also saw the handy work of Lucifer. He was also taken back by Dean’s love for Sam, the fact that his brother was willing to do all of this to save him. and it made Gadreel wonder what it would have been like to have a sibling who cared half as much the Winchester did about one another… maybe he wouldn’t have aided Lucifer. “I can help Sam but there is a lot of damage done to him it would be easier for me to do it on the inside. If I can take possession of him?”

Dean wasn’t sure what to think of coming face to face with an angel willingly to help him save Sam. The problem was no matter how much he wanted to save Sam, he couldn't see Sam agreeing to be possessed… not after what he had experienced with Meg and Lucifer taking over his body, the acts they committed with his hands. Sam was still trying to make amends for those even though he didn’t need to. "I can't. I want to save Sam more than anything, but I can't let you possess him not after all he has gone through."

Gadreel could understand and respected Dean’s choice, and without Dean’s help there was no way that he could get Sam to say yes. “Then I will do all I can to help your brother but I’m not sure if a hospital is a safe place for him as we have seen angels and demons can find their way here. Do you have somewhere safe we can hide him away until I have healed him?”

“Yeah, I know a place.” Dean still refused to call the bunker home; home for him would forever be wherever Sam and his Baby were, but for now the bunker would give them extra protection. “We need to get Sam out of here before more angels come looking for us.” Dean knew it had been a risk and one he would take repeatedly if it meant finding someone who could help save Sam.

+*****+

It wasn’t easy sneaking Sam’s weaken body out of the hospital and it became clear quickly to Dean that Gadreel wasn’t lying when he told him he was weak. Dean was more than willing to carry Sam out to the waiting Impala, it wouldn’t be the first time and no doubt, not the last time that Dean would be sneaking Sam out of a hospital.

“It’s okay Sammy. I’ve got you and I’m going to do everything in my power to save you. I can’t lose you, Sam, you are my whole world. Just keep fighting Sam, don’t give up yet. Every word I told you in the church there is nothing past or present that I would put in front of you. There is no one I would sell my soul for but you, you have to know that I would be lost without you, Sam.” Dean whispered as he stroked Sam’s hair back from his forehead.

Standing back behind Gadreel watched as Dean got Sam comfortable in the passenger seat of the Impala, he also did his best not to listen to Dean’s plea to Sam to stay with him. ‘I wonder if any of my brothers or sisters would plead with me like that.’ He very much doubted so. Humanity wasn’t their strong suit. But he had heard rumors that some angels had regained their humanity by hanging around Dean and Sam.

Once he was certain Sam was comfortable Dean straightened himself up and turned around to face the angel waiting for him. He had a few ground rules to lay down before he let Gadreel near Sam or in his baby. “Let me make one thing clear if you do anything to hurt Sam it will be the last thing you do. You wouldn’t be the first angel that I take out; I and my brother have taken out our fair share.” Dean snarled out his eyes flashing with pure promise.

Gadreel was many things, but he liked to think that he was no longer the fool that had been tricked by Lucifer. He finally had freedom from heaven and the last thing he wanted to do was to make Dean Winchester his enemy. “That is the last thing that I want.”

“Good, I’m glad that we understand each other.” Dean made a mental note that once he got Sam tucked away safe and sound he would see if he could find Castiel… he would like it if the other angel could keep his eye on Gadreel.

+*****+

The ride back to the bunker was awkward and a little nerve-wracking as Dean was torn keeping his eyes on the road and on Sam, but he knew that his girl would get him back to the bunker. His baby was one to never let him down she was his and Sam’s home. She looked after them and cared for them. “Thank you, girl,” Dean whispered as he ran his hand along her wheel.
The Impala gave a purr beneath Dean’s hands she would always look after her boys.

It wasn’t easy, but Dean managed to get Sam to their room and he felt his heart ripped out of his chest as he took in the sight of Sam laid out on their bed. “Stay with me Sammy or I will be joining you.” Dean had lived once without Sam and he hadn’t been living he would be joining Sam rather than go through that again. Heaven or hell would be a hell of a lot better just because he would have Sam with him.

Gadreel felt like he was intruding on a private moment between Dean and Sam but he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go.
Dean gave him his answer as he sat up from his spot on the edge of the bed next to Sam. “Do your best to help him.” Dean hated the broken tone in his voice but damn it right now nothing mattered but Sam.

“I will do my best.” Gadreel found himself promising. Moving closer to Sam, Gadreel could feel Dean’s burning gaze on him watching as he reached out and placed his hands on Sam.

+*****+

Sam was confused he didn’t know where he was but something in him told him that he needed to follow the path before him. But he was empty. Dean should be beside him.

“Dee where are you?” Sam whispered under his breath.

“Your brother is waiting for you.”

Sam found himself whirling around and he took a step back as he came face to face with someone he had never laid eyes on but he could see the outline of wings. “Who are you?”

“I am Gadreel, I have been sent by your brother to heal you.” Gadreel could hardly believe that he was standing before the man who had done the impossible; who had beaten back Lucifer enough to toss them back into the cage along with Michael. Sam’s love for his brother had done what no one in heaven or hell had thought could be done.

Sam could only stare at the angel before him, he didn’t trust many but Castiel and Dean trusted them even less. “Why should I believe you?”

“Wise question Samuel.”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as Death appeared before him. This was very unusual as Dean was the one who usually had these talks with Death. “Death, what can I do for you?”

Gadreel could barely move as he realized that he was standing before Death himself the one that would one day reap God.
Death smiled at Sam. “I had been waiting for you. Samuel, I had been prepared to offer you peace.”
A final death. That was what Death had been offering him, and Sam wouldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t tempted.

“Your brother prayed to all who would listen to you. I am here because he asked me to save you. Dean needs you.” Gadreel found himself pleading with Sam.

“Dean.” Sam longed for a place where he didn’t have to worry about being hunted by angels or demons or the monster of the week; that he no longer was held responsible for what he did when he let Lucifer out or that he no longer failed Dean in saving him. ‘Dean would be better off without me.’ The bitter voice in Sam’s head spoke up.

Death studied the young man before him. Sam’s soul was in pieces, he was barely hanging on but there was only one thing that kept him fighting his love for Dean. “If you come with me it will not be long before I come for Dean’s soul as well.”

“Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever!” Dean’s passionate plea came rushing back to Sam and he knew that Dean meant every word.

“Dean.” Sam breathed out and in that moment both Death and Gadreel knew what Sam had chosen.

“You will have a long road in front of you.” Placing his hand on Sam’s forehead Death watched as Sam’s eyes fluttered closed and his body fell back to land on a bed that he had conjured up. “Sam and Dean Winchester are under my protection. They have done much and given so much to save the world over and over. Should you or anyone else try to harm them you shall deal with me.” Death warned.

Gadreel could only nod as the power rolled off Death. This was the one entity that not even an archangel could go against.
“Then, while you begin to heal Sam, I shall speak to Dean and ensure he understands that Sam is alright.” Straighten his jacket Death took his leave of them but he would be keeping a close eye on Gadreel to ensure that Sam was alright.

+*****+

“Come on Sammy, just open up those eyes for me. Let me see that you are okay.” Unable to keep his hands off of Sam he rubbed his thumb on Sam’s lower lip.

“It will take some time, but Sam will heal and return to you.”

Dean didn’t budge at the sound of Death’s voice. He wasn’t surprised that he was there.

Studying Dean’s back, Death decided it was the time that Dean learned a truth… that Sam had been wrestling with telling him, but never found the chance to. "Sam didn't give up on you while you were lost in purgatory. He didn't settle down with a girl and dog and forget all about you. Sam was on the verge of breaking. He didn't have you to pull him back from the edge and when he went over all the rest of the world could do was help pick up the pieces.”

Dean couldn’t form the words, he was at a loss for what to say. The woman and dog that he hated so much had been the light that pulled Sam back from the darkness. “I’m sorry Sam and when you come back to me I will make this up to you.” ‘Maybe it is time for the Winchester’s to step away from hunting.’ They have done so much, hell they had done more than their fair share and now with the bunker, they could start up the Men of Letters again.

“Can you tell me what Sam is going through?” Dean needed to know what to do to help Sam.

“Castiel had done his best to fix the damage he did when he broke Sam’s wall but as you saw just how damaging that could be to even an angel let alone what it could do to a human. Sam did his best to fight back Lucifer’s memory but when he lost you he lost the one thing that kept him anchored. Samuel did this to prove himself to you. He truly didn’t care if the trials cost him his life.” Death informed Dean.

Dean remembered how broken Sam had been after his wall had been broken and even though Castiel tried to make amends by taking the memories onto himself, he was still taunted, and Dean knew this. It’s just he had been so changed by his time in Purgatory, hardened into a version of himself he hadn’t liked. Getting back to Sam had been all that kept him going and he had been so angry when he found out that Sam had settled down and hadn’t looked for him. He hadn’t stopped to think and realize that wasn’t something his Sammy would do. Sam would never just abandoned Kevin… not when he had demons hunting for him, but he had wanted to hurt Sam like he had hurt him.

“Post Purgatory me was a dick,” Dean muttered under his breath he was grateful that Death had left him alone with his thoughts he wasn’t ready to for anyone to hear his admittance.

“Wake up soon Sammy. I need you.” Dean pressed a soft kiss on Sam’s forehead.
+*****+
It took much longer than either Dean or Gadreel thought it would for Sam to start to show improvement but nothing would move Dean from his brother's side he only left long enough to shower, eat and use the washroom then he was right back to his spot beside Sam and no matter how Dean would deny it, his hands always sought out Sam's hand. He wouldn't rest until their fingers linked. Dean lost count how many times he fell asleep watching Sam's chest rising and falling making sure that Sam was still with him.

"Dee."

At first, Dean thought he was dreaming, after all, it wouldn't be the first time that he heard Sam's voice in his dreams.

"Dean, wake up Dee."

It wasn't until shaky hands ran through his hair did it hit Dean that this wasn't a dream, that it really was Sammy's voice calling to him.

"Sammy? You're okay?" Thoughts of sleep all but wiped away from Dean as he opened his eyes to one of the greatest sights that he had ever seen Sam, awake and smiling at him.

"I'm okay Dean." Sam gave a small shifted and winced, "Alright so I'm not okay, but I'm here Dean." Licking his lips Sam wasn't sure what to say to Dean, he could still hear his plea in the church and he knew that Dean meant every word that he had said.

Now Dean wasn't a fool he knew that Sam still had a long way of healing to go but he was awake. "Sam, I don't know where to begin... who to thank for keeping you here with me. I don't know how to begin to make up for all the things I said to you. I was hurt, so angry that I could be so easily replaced that I never stopped to think how that it wasn't you." Taking Sam's hands in his Dean looked deep into his eyes. "Tell me, Sam, if you hadn't been haunted by your memories at what that bastard Lucifer did to you would you have looked for me?"

Sucking in a deep breath Sam squeezed Dean's hands as tightly as he could with his limited strength he needed Dean to believe him. "I would have ripped apart all of heaven and hell to find you. Dean, you have to believe me that I did the best I could until it became too much and I was seeing Lucifer everywhere, and when I hit a dog I realized how much of a danger I was. I was going to start looking for you again Dean once I stopped seeing him every day."

Dean felt like a jackass at the pleading tone in Sam's voice. "Of course I believe you baby boy, I should have never doubted you. I should have listened to you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam's mouth. "You're listening now." That was all Sam wanted was Dean listening to him.
Deciding that there was too much space between them Dean moved up beside Sam and pulled his brother into his arms closing his eyes at how willing Sam moved into his arms. "We are going to take a break from hunting, something we should have done since your soul was returned. You need to heal and that is all that matters to me right now."

"What about the angels?" Sam wasn't sure how he should feel about angels after all they had done their best to turn him and Dean against each other to bring about the end.

Accept for Castiel and Gadreel Dean didn't have a soft spot for those feather bastards and he didn't really care what happened to them, they had proven that they were no better than those black eye bastards. "They can look after themselves. Like I said all that matters is you. Let me take care of you baby boy."

Placing his hand on Dean's cheek Sam pressed his lips against Dean's in a soft kiss. "Okay," Sam whispered when they broke the kiss.

Dean felt something loosen in his chest, it was about time that the Winchester's look after one another like they did before all of heaven and hell messed with their lives. "How about I cook you something to eat?" He had no doubt that Sam was hungry.
Shaking his head Sam snuggled in closer to Dean's side, "Maybe a little later. Right now this is all I need."

Wrapping his arm tighter around Sam's shoulders a small smile appeared on Dean's lips, "This is such a chick flick moment but me too Sammy, me too."

Not Counting You - Art

2017-12-07T01:30:16Z

Art for Not Counting You, for spn_reversebang

Not Counting You

2017-12-06T22:10:06Z

Art Title: When Heaven and Hell Meet
Prompt Number: S2016
Artist: be_my_precious

Fic Title: Not Counting You
Author: deadlykittenkay
Fandom/Genre: SPN
Pairing(s): Crowley/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,354
Warnings: none

Summary: Crowley has always been about the deal. In his line of work, before becoming the King of Hell, it was important to close a sale and make the terms in Hell's favor.
After all, that's why he led Dean to Cain in the first place.
But what happens when his literal mortal enemy turns out to be this biggest ally he never counted on?
And what the hell is with these bloody feelings?

Not Counting You

DeadlyKittenKay (PrettyBlueIz)

Work Text:

Crowley scowled at the phone resting next to his drink. The little blue umbrella in his glass mocked him. He knew what he needed to do, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Especially since his idea had failed monstrously and he was about to go to the one person he could think of to help him.

Complete with his own tail between his legs and egg on his face. So to speak.

His plan had worked to a degree. Even when the naysayer in question had pointed out that it was going to be a very bad idea. Giving a hunter that much power was asking for something even Crowley could never be prepared for. But despite all this, it had worked. The hunter had gotten rid of the thorn in Crowley’s side and even better, after becoming one of his own, was working for Crowley. What could be better than a demonic hunter working for you?

Or at least that’s what Crowley had thought. It was the perfect arrangement, until it wasn’t.

With a heavy sigh he hit three on his speed-dial and waited as the phone rang.

“What,” the familiar gruff voice growled out in annoyance.

“Well, hello to you too, Feathers .”

“What do you want, Crowley. I’m busy,” the voice huffed on the other end.

“I need your help, Castiel.” Even the mere idea of asking the Angel for help made Crowley want to gag. “Squirrel has become…a liability.”

“You know where Dean is?”

Of course Castiel would be more concerned with Dean than the fact that Crowley had been put out. Crowley would like to say that the stab to the gut was due to being insulted by Castiel and nothing more.

“Yes…” Crowley sighed. “We’re not that far from the bunker really. Your hunter, while not wanting Moose to find him, can’t seem to let him go either.” Crowley found himself telling Castiel where they were. He could hear Moose in the background, saying something about needing to get more holy water and other things together. Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to care and hung up the phone. He knew that Castiel would be there before Sam.

He didn’t have to wait long honestly, before the familiar tan appeared in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to watch as Castiel sat on the stool next to him, placing his phone and what appeared to be his wallet out on the bar.

It was funny really, to watch the subtle nuances of the angel. In his current vessel, he looked like any other doltish man, fresh from work, about to enjoy an icy cold pint. One would never know that the awkward and jerky movements were that of a celestial being trying to maneuver inside a meatsuit.

“So, how’s tricks,” Crowley finally asked as he signaled the bartender over.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel asked, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. The reaction stirred something within Crowley.

Crowley chuckled. “Meaning how are things. Also a joke at the expense of your car.”

“There is nothing wrong with my preferred vehicle. And you know how things are going.” He scowled at Crowley before ordering a beer. “Where’s Dean?”

Crowley sighed. “Don’t have time for your old pal?” He took one look at the glare in Castiel’s blue eyes and could see the grace inside rolling with anger and decided to no longer push him. Sure, he may have his moments where he does enjoy messing with the angel, but he also didn’t want to be smote at the drop of a dime.

“Dean is two towns out. I had sent him to complete a contract for me. And he sent this back.” He pulled up a picture on his phone. A selfie of Dean smirking as he posed next to a corpse that had the first blade sticking out of it.

Castiel made something akin to a growling noise and slid the phone back to Crowley. “Was this your intention? To make him one of your cross-road demons?”

“I’ll have you know, I had my start there, wanker. And no, that poor bastard was the one that signed the contract. His soul was to be mine in five years. Your girl Friday there was supposed to have killed his adulterous wife. Instead, I got a contract ended in less than five hours.”

Castiel chuckled and Crowley felt insulted that his plight was treated as a joking manner. “There are worse things in life.”

Crowley looked at Castiel with a critical eye. “Oh yeah, like what,” he challenges. “You know my business is the business of getting contracts and souls. Dean is bad for business.”

“Should have thought about that before tricking a hunter into accepting the Mark of Cain.”

“You think so low of me, Castiel? I’m hurt and insulted that you think that way. I would never put our darling Dean in such a way,” Crowley tried to feign innocence then rolled his eyes when Castiel’s expression remained nonplussed. “Well, at the time it was a great idea,” he mumbled into his own glass.

“How was it a good idea? As much as I despise you sometimes, I thought you were smarter than that. You know more than anybody that if Dean or Sam Winchester have the chance, they will end you.”

“We had a common enemy. And if it wasn’t for me, your lover boy would be worm food right now thanks to your bestie Metatron.”

Castiel’s jaw clenched and Crowley could see the muscle jump at the tension. “He’s not my lover,” he said flatly.

“Yes, well that’s neither here nor there,” Crowley said with a wave of his hand. “I have a problem. You have a problem. You scratch my back. I scratch yours… yadda yadda.”

“You want my help in containing Dean?”

“Ah, you are smarter than you look.”

“Why would I help you? Maybe I’m okay with Dean finishing you off like he had with Abbadon.”

Crowley makes a shocked noise as he grabs his chest. “You wound me, Castiel. And here I thought you liked me.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corner of Castiel’s lips as he brought the bottle to his mouth. “Shut up, Crowley.”

Finding Dean should have been easier. Between having the help of Castiel and Sam looking for him, they honestly shouldn’t have taken as long as they had. Honestly though, Crowley wasn’t complaining. Something about spending time with Castiel was calming; which, given their past and the fact that they were literally mortal enemies, was…odd.

Crowley had expected to hear the usual threat from the angel about how if a single hair on Dean Winchester’s head was harmed, he would end him. Perhaps even a warning about being double crossed. But strangely, Castiel didn’t threaten Crowley.

Working with Castiel again didn’t feel as off kilter as Crowley had imagined. If anything, it felt right. It was also the first time that Crowley had noticed Castiel seemed to have relaxed around him, which was saying a lot.

They had spent weeks together, chasing leads in hopes of finding the loose cannon. Crowley hadn’t had the heart to keep everyone chasing an impossible trail and finally gave up Dean’s location to his brother.

“You still have a bit of humanity in you,” Castiel said quietly when the pair found themselves at another bar. Castiel had just gotten the confirmation text from Sam and now Crowley was waiting for the angel’s inevitable departure. Why the mere thought of the angel leaving was making him have chest pains was beyond him, but it was there and increasing with each passing moment.

“Yes, it appears that the trials had lasting effects on me as well,” Crowley answered like a petulant child. He watches as Castiel fiddles with his phone and sighs. “Shouldn’t you be helping Sam restore your sweetheart’s humanity or something?”

Castiel glanced at him before shaking his head and taking a long pull from his beer. “What,” Crowley asked.

“Why does everyone think I’m in love with Dean?”

Crowley tried not to wince at that but the apologetic look Castiel shot him said otherwise. “Well, you gave up Heaven for him. That’s a big gesture.”

“I gave up Heaven for free will,” Castiel clarified. “Based on that logic, one would assume that you’re in love with him too.”

“Not bloody likely,” Crowley all but spit out. “I’d willingly kiss you first.”

His eyes widened as Castiel chuckled.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or not.”

“Don’t be. That just means that you’re more appealing,” Crowley muttered.

Castiel’s phone buzzed with another message. Crowley looked down at his hands, cradling his drink. He heard Castiel clear his throat and he knew what was going to happen before it was even spoken.

“I need to go,” Castiel said.

“Of course. The perks of being the Winchester’s personal lap dog.” He closed his eyes when he felt a touch on his upper arm but when he opened his eyes, Castiel was gone.

Oh, bloody Hell, I have feelings for an angel…

Three days had passed.

Crowley had done his best to ignore the feelings that were burrowing inside. He did his best to pretend as if it didn’t matter. Why he would even care about the stupid angel that had tried to kill him, betray him even, on multiple occasions was beyond him. He was the King of Hell after all. He didn’t need the emotional entanglements like the stupid humans who signed over their souls.

This whole feelings business was making him soft and he knew it. Especially when the last schmuck to take a deal had done it so that he could get six good years with the love of his life. As much as he tried not to, he imagined himself in the poor soul’s position. Having feelings for someone who didn’t know you existed. How pathetic was that?

Crowley wondered if he would have ever made that sort of deal. A part of him said of course not, knowing how the deals end. But there was another part of him that day dreamed. If he wasn’t the King of Hell and just some pathetic mortal. Would he have done it?

Yes

The answer came to him as a shock. Why would he ever want to subject himself to that form of torture? There was only two things Crowley loved more than himself and that was power and his beloved hound, Juliette. So why was he thinking this way?

The vibrating of his phone shook him from his thoughts. He answered it without bothering to look at the name. After all, it was bound to be either the Winchesters or his mother.

“We need to talk,” the voice on the other end, while demanding and cold, made Crowley stupidly happy to hear, if the fluttering in his stomach was any indication.

“Well, hello to you too, Feathers. What do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“Crowley,” Castiel growled out and Crowley swore he did not shiver at the sound.

“Yes, love?” Crowley closed his eyes, hoping that Castiel wasn’t savvy to terms of endearments.

“Please, just meet me at the Stagg Inn. Off route sixty-six in Gallup, New Mexico.”

“What the hell are you doing there?” Crowley asked but was met with the sound of the dial tone. With a sigh and a final scratch behind Juliette’s ear, Crowley prepared himself for a visit to New Mexico.

When he arrived, Castiel was pacing in the room. Crowley watched him from the window. He almost laughed at the image and how stupid Castiel was to not close his blinds. Crowley also wondered what would have Castiel in such a tizzy, watching as he worked a hole into the flooring. He took a moment to study him. The tan coat was gone, placed over the back of one of the dinette chairs. The sleeves of Castiel’s white shirt were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone, with the tie hanging open and loose around his neck. If Crowley didn’t know any better, he could almost pass for human.

He decided to put the other man out of his misery and made his presence known by knocking on the door.

Castiel looked… relieved? Surprised? Actually, Crowley couldn’t place the look he has on his face, but surely it wasn’t one he had expected.

Castiel stepped to the side to let Crowley in. “You came.”

Crowley inclined his head slightly, moving to sit at that kitchen table. “Well, you did say please.” He had meant to say that in jest but he was truly curious as to what was going on.

Castiel only nodded before moving towards the set of queen beds. He stopped at the one closest to the door and rummaged through a bag setting at the foot of the bed. Crowley watched as he pulled out a familiar brown cloth wrapped around an equally familiar shape.

“Is that…” Crowley asked causing Castiel to look at him and nod.

“The first blade, yes. Sam was successful in curing Dean. They handed me this for safe keeping.” He placed it on the table near Crowley.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Safe keeping? Not lodged into my chest?”

Castiel shook his head. “I promised Dean he would be the one to end you.”

“What a relief,” Crowley muttered, before clearing his throat and sitting up in the stiff chair. “Why am I here, Castiel?”

“I need your help.” Castiel sat in the chair near Crowley. “I told them that I would hide this. Until we find a way to remove the mark.”

“And how, pray tell, do you suppose I can help you?”

Castiel sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I need you to hide the blade. I can’t take it to Heaven. They’ll know that Dean has the mark. And if he does have the mark, the farther away this is, the better.”

Crowley nodded his understanding. “You know that taking this blade away while he is still infected with the mark is like placing a band aid on a gaping wound, right?”

“Yes, Crowley I realize that but this is our only option.” Castiel looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you being hesitant about taking the blade? I thought you would jump at the opportunity to get it out of our hands.”

“Perhaps you’ve grown on me, Castiel, like a fungus. I’m worried that you don’t know how much trouble you’re about to cause.”

“ I’m about to cause,” Castiel asked incredulously. Crowley jumped back slightly at this tone as if he had been physically slapped. “Don’t you mean the trouble you caused? By leading Dean to Cain in the first place? If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have to work with you again. Go against my friends, again . If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Not bloody likely,” Crowley’s voice raised to match Castiel’s. “If it wasn’t the mark, it would be something else. Do us all a favor and stop acting all high and mighty for once. You know just as well as I do that Moose and Squirrel will always find some sort of trouble that would require you to be their savior and once again pull their arses out of the fire.”

“And what is so wrong with that,” Castiel asked, suddenly in Crowley’s face. “What is so wrong with having a purpose? To feel needed?”

“At what cost, Castiel? You’ll always be willing to drop everything just because they call!”

“Because that’s what friends do. That’s what the Winchesters have taught me. You are there for them to help them pick themselves up. To help them douse the flames. To heal the wounds. You do not leave friends behind. And that’s what I will continue to do.”

Crowley grabbed the blade. “Friends will get you killed, Castiel,” he said simply before leaving Castiel alone in the hotel room.

He didn’t want to admit that hearing the passion in Castiel’s voice, when he spoke of friendship and loyalty to the Winchesters, struck a chord. He knew it was jealousy. To have to bear witness to Castiel’s passion for the brothers, hurt. He was jealous and wanted to have someone, anyone really, feel that sense of loyalty for him.

Honestly, he wanted Castiel to feel that way about him and Crowley hated himself more and more for it.

The longer that Crowley sat and stewed in his own thoughts the more he began to realize that he did in fact have an interest in Castiel that went beyond a business deal. He had started to drift in his thoughts, wondering what the other man would think to a song or if he would like the particular brew of alcohol he was consuming.

He had also found himself remembering the way the air felt around him when Castiel had crowded into his space that night at the motel. The way that it crackled and surged with the celestial power contained within his meat suit. Crowley also remembered the scent that lingered, like fresh rain in the air. And the way his own meat suit stirred at the thought of having Castiel pressed against him.

Which was absurd.

These feelings couldn’t mean anything other than Crowley was lonely and in desperate need to consummate with another. Shame really, how every time he considered this, his thoughts were plagued by blue eyes.

Time passed and periodically, Castiel would call Crowley. At first it was to ensure that the blade was safely hidden. After numerous assurances that it was, the calls had changed. Occasionally, Castiel would ask for Crowley assistance on lore. Or for Crowley to help Castiel find someone. Much to Crowley’s surprise, he felt useful; it was almost as if Castiel saw him as a friend.

They were on the phone, going over possible ways to remove the mark. Crowley has enlisted the help of his mother, much to Castiel’s displeasure. Crowley had just finished mentioning a book called The Book of The Damned when Castiel swore in Enochian.

Crowley chuckled. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to do that, Feathers.”

“Do what?” Castiel asked, clearly distracted.

“Nothing. What’s wrong?”

“Dean…” Castiel sounded pained. “Something’s not right. His soul… it’s dark.”

“Come again,” Crowley asked.

“It’s troubled. Like how it was when he was a demon. It’s calling to me.”

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best to smother the jealousy. “Right, best go check on him. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Crowley?” Castiel’s concerned voice was something new for the demon and something that recently began to happen.

“I’m fine, Feathers. Go check on your hunter.”

Castiel made a noise that was akin to frustration. “It’s probably nothing. I haven’t been very useful lately.”

“You’re plenty useful. Just go check on the damned Winchesters. I have Hell to run.”

After the angel hung up, Crowley tossed his phone the side and sighed. Things had been confusing lately to say the least. While he had talked to Castiel plenty of times before, there was usually a hidden agenda for both. Sure, they’ve worked together in the past, but only to betray the other in the long run, but now… now Crowley wanted to help Castiel. Not screw him over.

He had tried to ignore his feelings, even participating in a few flings (and an orgy or two), hoping that by participating in lewd activities would erase the lingering attractions he clearly felt for Castiel. However, it never seemed to rectify itself. If anything, sex made him long for the angel more. Especially when he bore witness to the strength and power Castiel had; power he wanted to witness for himself up close.

Then every time Castiel went on a Winchester rescue mission, Crowley found himself torn between jealousy and worry which was prosperous! Crowley’s own mother tried to say that he was jealous that Castiel got to spend time with the Winchesters, but Crowley knew the truth.

It wasn’t Castiel he was jealous of.

He hadn’t heard from Castiel in over a month.

Nothing new or worrisome and yet it was. Up until that point they had spoken at least once a week, usually to seek consult from the other regarding lore for the mark and every once in a blue moon just to say hi. Crowley -- although he would be remiss to admit to anyone -- had actually enjoyed the more laid-back calls in which they didn’t talk about end of the world things.

But to not hear a word from Castiel, even a simple “I’m busy,” was stupidly sending Crowley into a panic. So, he put out feelers. Something was up and he needed to know what.

“Your majesty,” a timid voice called out to Crowley. He looked up from the paper he was reading to see the young Drexel standing before him. Crowley merely raised an eyebrow at the young demon. “There’s been talk, whisperings really.”

“About?”

“Winchester… Dean,” he hesitated. “It appears he’s gotten a bit of blood lust as of late.”

“And this concerns me?”

“He slaughtered the Stein family.”

“Bollocks,” Crowley swore. The Stein family were under his protection.

“My sources say they were after the Book of the Damned. They killed the redheaded hunter.”

Crowley pushed himself off his throne. “Did they get it?”

Drexel shook his head. “No, sir. My understanding is that your mother and the angel have it.”

“And, where are they,” he demanded.

“They have your mother imprisoned. I don’t know where the angel is. We lost him shortly after Winchester took off from Stein Mansion.”

Crowley knew exactly where Castiel would have gone. “I want you to send our best to keep an eye on Squirrel.” Crowley barked out orders as he started to leave the hall. “I can’t lose more assets because he can’t keep it in his pants. I need to take care of something. Do. Not. Summon me. I will contact you.”

“But sir?” Drexel recoiled when Crowley spun to face him.

“Are you questioning your King’s orders?”

“No, sire. Of course not.”

“Good!” Crowley spat before snapping his fingers to transport himself to the Men of Letters bunker. He was surprised to find that they hadn’t replaced the demon warding, figuring that would have been the first thing they would have insisted on doing after curing Dean.

Crowley focused on the noises and smells of the bunker. From the kitchen, he could smell the distinct burn of petrol and the copper scent of blood. There was a sound from just outside the room, a scuffling and various grunting. It was when he could hear bone on bone, he knew he had to act.

He rushed into the area in which the former residents used as a library of sorts to see not only a pile of books -- reminiscent of the piles Hitler had during World War II -- but the body of the youngest Stein family member. His prone body showed no sign of a struggle, just a single gunshot wound to the head. Crowley understood now what the source of the gasoline and blood was from but that wasn’t what made him jump into action; after all, there isn’t much that could be done for the poor bugger.

It’s the fight that was happening to the side that drew his eye.

Castiel was currently being Dean’s own personal punching bag and, whichever deity you prefered, help him, he was not fighting back. If anything, he was begging Dean to stop. For reasons beyond all logic, Crowley went from being frozen in his spot to grabbing a bloodied Castiel just as a power-hungry Dean prepared to strike Castiel with his own blade.

“Crowley,” Castiel asked, confused as to what was happening as Crowley gritted his teeth and transported them to some nameless motel.

“Are you daft,” Crowley yelled at him.

“Me?! You’re the one that placed yourself between me and-” Castiel’s mouth snapped shut as his eyes widen. “The blade. Were you hit?” He leaned against Crowley, his hands moving against the black fabric of Crowley’s suit jacket.

“Would I be standing here if I was hit by your bloody blade?” Crowley growled trying to push Castiel into a chair. “You’re far worse than I am.”

“There are places we can hit that won’t smite your kind.” Castiel gave him a look that said he was clearly not amused with the current situation.

“Just heal yourself, Feathers. I’m fine.” His shoulder was smarting but he was more concerned with Castiel.

Finally, he deposited Castiel into a chair and pulled the red silk pocket square from his coat. He could feel Castiel’s eyes on him as he moved around the room to wet the silk.

“Do you have a death wish,” he finally asked Castiel as he started to wipe up the blood from his face.

“He would not kill me.” Castiel didn’t sound as sure as he was pretending to be.

“Uh huh and I’m sure those were Abel’s famous last words.”

Castiel grabbed Crowley’s wrist, making him stop his movements. “Why were you there,” he asked Crowley.

Crowley couldn’t look at him. He knew the minute he did; all hope would be lost and that nagging feeling in his chest would take over. Instead he put the cloth in Castiel’s hand and grabbed the ice bucket.

“I’ll be back,” he said before exiting the room and slamming the door shut. Crowley wasn’t sure why he even bothered to say anything about returning. Knowing Castiel’s track record, the minute the door latched, he was sure take off. After all, that’s what they both did best.

Leaving.

Crowley was in a surly mood as he entered the main office to pay for the room that he had dropped the bloody and broken angel in before he headed to the ice machine. He knew why he was angry and who the anger should be geared towards but the only desire he could find in himself was to cure both Dean and Castiel. And the more he worked towards accomplishing that goal, the more that aggravating pit of jealousy ate away at his insides.

Stop being such a ninny and tell the bloody fool how you feel!

Oh yes because that would be so simple .

Crowley was not sure what was worse. Falling in love with an angel or fighting with himself over it.

Both seemed fair.

When Crowley entered the room again, he was surprised -- as well as pleased but that’s neither here nor there -- to see that Castiel was still there. While he had removed his familiar coats and gotten rid of the tie, he was still as tense as before. He also looked a bit like a beaten puppy, if Crowley were being honest.

Crowley set the ice bucket down and pulled the bottle of scotch out of his pocket. He always kept a small one on him for emergencies. Without a word he moved to the ensuite and grabbed a couple of hand towels.

Once he has gathered all his supplies, he started to remove his own suit jacket and winced as the cloth tugged at an obvious wound on his shoulder.

“I told you, you are hurt,” Castiel said, reaching to touch the inflicted area.

Crowley slapped his hand away. “Focus on healing yourself. Stop being daft and do as I told you.”

“I can’t. The grace… it’s not my own so it’s weakened,” Castiel admitted, watching Crowley as he poured the scotch onto a rag.

“Ah, that’s right. I had forgotten you were on borrowed time. Seems almost childish that you would allow yourself to be Winchester’s punching bag.”

Castiel hissed with the alcohol soaked rag touched his face but quickly schooled his features to glare at Crowley. “I wasn’t allowing it. I was merely trying to stop him.”

Crowley scoffed, “Right. Trying to stop him. With your face.” He shook his head, dabbing the rag over a particularly nasty gash on Castiel’s forehead. “I have to say, that idea was almost as dumb as the time you tried to pull one over on Raphael.”

“Why do you even care,” Castiel asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Crowley.

“Because I do! I’m not a completely soulless bastard, you know,” he snapped before breathing a heavy sigh. He lowered himself to the chair in front of Castiel. “Despite who we are and how we’re bound to me mortal enemies… I care.” Crowley’s tone was softer as he spoke, trying his best to convey just how much he cared without physically saying it.

“Because what’s better than a having a rebellious angel in your pocket,” Castiel asked bitterly.

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?”

Crowley tossed the rag onto the table near the bucket full of melting ice. “Fine. It’s quite simple. You’ve grown on me. And in the process of doing so, I have found myself caring about your wellbeing. It drives me mad not knowing how you are. If you’re okay. And this stunt,” he waved his hand at Castiel to emphasize his point, “didn’t help. I’m used to torture. Hell, I’m the bloody King of it. But what I went through… that month of not knowing...”

Castiel tilted his head at Crowley. “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly.”

“Well, now you do. So just do me a favor, yeah? Make sure you check in occasionally. I would love to know that you’re alright.”

“Interesting,” Castiel murmured, watching as Crowley busied himself once again.

“What is?”

“You. I’ve never, in my existence, seen something like you.”

“What in the world are you on about now?” Crowley asked handing Castiel a towel filled with ice.

“Your ‘bit of humanity’, it makes you different.” Crowley opened his mouth to protest but Castiel held his hand up. “I mean, I still see the demon inside your vessel. Yes, naturally it makes me want to recoil and smite you. But there’s something different there. Like a spark of a soul.” Castiel leaned closer to examine him. Crowley swallowed thickly, fighting the impulse to crush his mouth to Castiel’s.

“I just don’t know what it means,” Castiel said softly.

“You’re a bloody fool, Castiel,” Crowley said before he realized it. He knew he had to explain himself now. “When I said I care, I wasn’t lying. I’ve found myself having feelings for you. Feelings that I know cannot be acted upon no matter how much I want to.”

Castiel tilted his head, his dark brows knitting together in confusion over clear blue eyes. “Why would you not be allowed to profess your feelings? They are after all, yours. It’s up to you to decide whether or not to express them.”

Crowley’s jaw hit the floor. He was stunned that Castiel had seemed to ignore what he had said about having feelings. “Did you not hear a word I said?”

Castiel sighed and put the towel on the table. “Of course I did. Dean may have split my face open but he didn’t impair my hearing.”

Crowley stood up and threw his arms up in disbelief. “Yet, you ask me why I can’t admit that I’m falling in love with you,” he shouted. “You know why!”

Castiel looks up at him. “Is it because we’re both perceived as males? From what I’ve seen, humans are more open to homosexual relationships…”

I’ve been had , Crowley thinks and sees that Castiel is trying not to smile at the situation.

“I hate you, Castiel.” This made Castiel smile only to make him wince in pain.

“Which is it? You love me? You hate me,” he asked teasingly, watching as Crowley grabbed for the bottle of scotch. Crowley glared at Castiel before taking a large pull from the bottle. Castiel sighed, letting his shoulders fall. “I’m sorry. That was in bad taste. But I meant it, you shouldn’t have to be afraid to express how you feel. No matter who those feelings are-”

Cowley cut Castiel’s words off when he placed his hands on his face, muttering a silent prayer as he pressed his mouth to Castiel’s. He had expected to have been pushed away. Or maybe even to be smote right then and there, but that’s not what he got. Instead when his mouth met Castiel’s he felt Castiel grab his coat. After which, he was pulled down forcefully into Castiel’s lap.

One of Castiel’s hands moved to the back of Crowley’s head, the other held tightly to the black wool. Crowley’s own hands made their way to Castiel’s hair, tangling themselves as he bit down on Castiel’s lower lip, causing him to gasp and open up for Crowley.

The noises Castiel made when Crowley licked his way into his mouth are positively sinful. A part of him wondered where in the world Castiel had learned to kiss and touch with such a dominant touch, but a bigger part of him was lost in the taste and feel of Castiel. He made Castiel growl when he shifted his weight in just the right spot. Before he could rejoice in the new knowledge of what kinks Castiel apparently has, a searing pain ran through Crowley.

Blinding light was all he could see as he fells back off Castiel’s lap.

“Crowley?” He could hear Castiel calling out to him, concern in his voice as Crowley ground his teeth together, trying to breathe through the pain.

“What… the… bloody… hell… was… that,” he panted out, slowly opening his eyes to see Castiel standing above him, his left hand bloodied.

“You’re hurt.”

“No, Castiel. I always scream in pain while kissing,” Crowley snarked, trying to remove his coat.

Castiel frowned at him. “I would imagine that you wouldn’t want to continue kissing if that was your impulse response.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and held his hand out. “Help me up,” he grunted in pain as he stood up. Castiel spun him around quickly his hands on Crowley’s back.

“You need to remove this shirt.”

“Trying to get me naked already, Feathers,” Crowley asked, voice teasing.

“Let’s tend to your wound first. Then we’ll address the previous situation.”

Crowley rolled his eyes again and started to unbutton his shirt. “You really know how to make a man’s nether region tingle.” He heard Castiel huff out a laugh.

Eventually Crowley had managed to get out of the button down shirt and tie. Castiel had him straddle one of the chairs and lean forward. He hissed when the scotch was poured over the wound. According to Castiel it was nothing more than a three inch gash. It was the placement over the shoulder blade was what was making it more intolerable than most.

“I have a tolerance for pain,” Crowley pointed out, taking the bottle when Castiel passed it in front of him. “This shouldn’t hurt.”

“Enochian steel. You know better than I how that affects demons.” Crowley scowled at Castiel, who ignored it completely. “You’re lucky that it wasn’t much deeper. I still don’t see why you had to get in front of the blade.”

“Seriously?” Crowley turned his head to look at Castiel. “Are you going to make me say it again?”

“I heard you perfectly fine the first time. I just don’t see why you would put yourself at risk.” Castiel carefully smoothed out the bandage before letting his hand fall slowly down Crowley’s back.

Crowley took a deep breath, before positioning himself to face Castiel. “I didn’t see it as a risk, Castiel.” He reached out and cupped Castiel’s jaw, letting his thumb gently rub against the apple of his cheeks. “I know you’re not used to someone risking themselves for you. But all I could think of was Dean making his mark and the world being with one less feathered pain in my arse.” He smiled when Castiel rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t want that kind of world. I know that your loyalties lie with Heaven, just as mine lie with Hell. But I want to see where this,” he gestured with his free hand between them, “goes.”

“And if it doesn’t go anywhere,” Castiel challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“Then it was fun getting our rocks off, yeah?”

Again Castiel rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You just want me for my vessel,” he teased.

“No but I do have a bit of a wing kink,” he joked. “You really want to give this a go?”

“It appears to be the next logical step. It will take some getting used too.”

“Because you can see the demon,” Crowley asked and was surprised when Castiel shook his head.

“I mean, yes, I see the true you. But remember that spark of soul? Back when Sam did the trials?” Crowley nodded for Castiel to continue. “That’s there and it’s more enticing to look at to be honest. I just meant it will take getting used to because our families…”

Crowley scoffed. “All I have is the witch. You have Moose and Squirrel.”

“We don’t know if this will work if we don’t try.”

“Exactly.”

Castiel nodded and leaned forward. “Then, let’s try.”

Crowley smiled at that, his once cold black heart feeling warming at Castiel’s words. He knew this, whatever it is between them, wasn’t going to be easy. Many would most likely hunt them, threaten to kill them, and find anyway to destroy them. But that would be something to worry about on any other day. After all, for the King of Hell in alliance with Hell’s most wanted, that would just be another day at the office.

With the soft press of Castiel’s lips touching his again, the warmth of large hands pressed against the bare flesh of Crowley’s back, he found that he didn’t mind for what trouble may lay waiting for them. Because right now, at this point in his existence, he finally felt as if he was wanted, cherished, dare say it - loved.

After all this time, that’s all he ever wanted.

Art Link(s): LJ

my quickie_bang art :)

2017-03-26T00:26:39Z

so, this is my first challenge EVER. thanks to milly_gal pushing me to do it.

mods over at quicky_bang said to post the art on my personal journals at first. i admit, i'm completely going in blind here, and it took me 10 minutes just to find a way to link to quicky_bang .

anyway, here we go:

Title" Patchwork Pup
Author: Abigail Todd (direct link to story on AO3)
Art: malefantasy
Characters: Sam Winchester, Slight Dean Winchester, mark of cain, demon!Dean

I probably screwed that up somewhere lol. if i did, it will be fixed :)

Central Park

Scents of Home

Art: Not What I Ordered

ART: Power of Touch

Art: Accompany Me

Art: Who's On Top - SPN RB

Art: Abandoned Hope

Art: Mírë

Art for World Without Pity for Sam Winchester Big Bang

J2 RB Art: These Real and Vivid Dreams

Art: Nighthawks Soaring the Skies

Eldritch BB Art: Something in the Fog

SPRB Art: Blood in His Hands

Art: Just Ghosts

Art: The Morning After

malefantasy @ 2018-03-01T19:16:00

Art for Hold Back the River by Seaavery

Fic: Beautifully Broken

Art for "I Wouldn't Mind a Kiss, but not the Puppy Kind

Xmas Exchange Gift for jj564

Pieces of Me

Pieces of Me - Fic

Not Counting You - Art

Not Counting You

Not Counting You

DeadlyKittenKay (PrettyBlueIz)

Summary:

Notes:

Work Text:

my quickie_bang art :)