#ash loves fall

You nodded your head as your mother spoke to you. All the information that spewed from her mouth just flew into one ear, and right out the other. It was always the same thing she had told you since you were a kid.

“Be careful when walking in the woods. Look out for the hungry wolf.”

“Alright mom, I got it. I’m going to take the food to Uncle Bobby now.”

“Just be careful! Call me when you get there please?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the basket, pulling your red jacket on. On the way out the door you pulled the hood over your head, keeping your ears cold from the chilled breeze. It felt chillier out than normal, but it also may have been your skin growing subjectable to the weather. After all, your heat was approaching and the last thing you wanted to do was deliver cookies.

But your Uncle Bobby had been worse lately. He had always been a sad old drunk after his wife died; drowning himself in a bottle on their anniversary or the anniversary of her death. But with him being sick the past week your mom thought cookies would help his mood.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you imagined it traveling out in a small cloud before you. It had been awhile since you last seen your uncle and you felt horrible.

He showed you everything you knew and practically raised you as if you were his own child. It was the least he could do since your dad left around a young age. Bobby was the one to threaten boys or teach you how to shoot a gun. He taught you even how to flay a fish or hunt a deer.

While you wanted to see him, you hated seeing him drinking. It was when he got like this you thought it was best to stay away. He never enjoyed company and would turn into a grumpy old man. Sometimes he’d even snap on accident.

You glanced up to the trees, admiring the shifting colors of the leaves as some already had made their fall to the wood’s floor. The smell of leaves and sap filled your senses, driving you wild. But then it hit you.

Alpha.

There was one nearby. You could hear them walking behind you and you turned immediately.

Their eyes raked over you, taking in your appearance and you shuttered. “Where are you heading?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Lucifer peered at her, growling softly, “Tell me.”

You flinched as he stood taller, practically swallowing you with his presence, “My Uncle’s.”

Lucifer flashed a smile and leaned closer; smelling near the basket on her arm, humming. “Smells good. I should have some after this long walk.”

You gulped thickly and stepped back, “I- I should go.” You turned and hurried away, trying to block the alpha from your mind.

Lucifer was quick to find his way towards your uncle’s place, knocking on the door as he took on your appearance and masking his scent in the process.

Bobby frowned as he heard knocking at the door, grumbling tiredly as he made his way to his wooden door.

The knock echoed throughout the silent cabin again before he answered, a smile appearing as he saw ‘you’ behind the pressed birch door.

Bobby stepped aside to allow you in, practically shuffling the door closed as he turned his attention to you, “What brings ya here kid?”

With one look Lucifer could tell he was sick as he pulled a very sympathetic expression. “I came to visit and check on you since you aren’t feeling well.”

Bobby shook his head, knowing your mom had sent you. He lead you over to the couch, taking his place in his recliner.

Lucifer took the spot on the couch closest to the recliner, watching Bobby’s movements. He waited until Bobby leaned to grab his beer off the floor to attack.

You were on edge the rest of the way to your uncle’s. Your heart kept beating against your chest, attempting to escape as you glanced around constantly. Anytime an animal near by made a noise it freaked you out. You’d tuck your arms to your chest, wincing at the ache from your breasts as you quickly looked in your surrounding area. A sigh of relief would escape when you found the furry culprit to the noise.

Once you reached the cabin you were able to breathe a full sigh of relief, the tension melting away as you stared at the familiar door and knocked. Your teeth caught your bottom lip to chew on the tender flesh, pushing aside any lingering thoughts as you watched the door open.

A giant smile painted your face as your “uncle” let you inside.

“My mom told me you were sick. I know you’re not one for company, especially around this time of year but she wanted me to bring some cookies by.”

Lucifer nodded his head.

It was a normal reaction. What threw you off was how he carried himself and moved about the room. He definitely was off his game. But it was the way he stepped closer that set the alarm in your mind off.

“Uncle Bobby? You feeling alright? Your eyes, they’re more red than usual.”

“It’s from all the sneezing.”

“Your voice seems different too and your lip keeps twitching.”

“Just tired and hungry.”

You gulped thickly, “Your nails seem longer than usual too.”

“Easier to tear into things,” he snarled out.

You winced as he backed you into a corner, teeth bearing as he wore a wicked smile. With a quick movement of his hand he knocked the basket from your grasp, gripping onto your wrists. Your eyes widened in horror as the facade slowly slipped away, leaving a hungry alpha wolf towering before you.

His eyes were glowing red as his claws gently dug into your skin, his white snarl glowing in the warm lighting of your uncle’s living room lights.

Your eyes were fixated on his face, taking in how his nostrils twitched at your growing scent.

Everything was happening so fast and just the scent of an alpha was driving you wild. But then the smell grew intense as another alpha plowed into the room at the sound of your cry.

He was tall and towered the other alpha as he yanked him away, fighting him off and out the door.

The room seemed to spin from their scents, the blood that pooled at your wound sending you into darkness as you squeezed your eyes tightly.

Sam got Lucifer out of the building before finding your uncle and getting him to bed. But just as he finished up he noticed you climbing into unconsciousness. He moved faster in his actions than he did moments before as he lifted you up and hurried you to his cabin.

Once inside the safety of his home he got to patched up the wound, taking careful glances.

You looked peaceful.

Everything about you seemed to calm him as he tended your wound, stopping the bleeding as he inhaled softly.

By the time you were waking up on the pallet, your stomach was clenching as the heat began to pool between your legs. You were in the alpha’s home- your alpha’s home. You sat up quickly as your heart began racing, but Sam’s hand gently pushed against your shoulder.

“Relax, it’s alright. You’re safe.”

You gulped thickly at the sight of your alpha before you. His scent was filling your senses and making sweat bead across your forehead.

Your heat wasn’t for another couple of days but just being near him made it come a few days early.

Sam watched as your tongue darted out to wet your plump, soft lips. You were injured and he was having to refrain himself but it wasn’t going well with the look you were giving him.

“Y/N.”

Sam blinked, processing what you were even saying before nodding, “Sam.”

You bit your lip nervously and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you on the plaid pallet. The smell of lumber and spice began to overwhelm you even more as he got closer.

“Alpha.”

Just the sound of your voice made Sam lose it. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours. The sound of your whimper gave him access to deepen the kiss.

Your hands pushed into his hair while one roamed down to clutch at the flannel fabric covering his body. With a quick jerk you untucked it from his jeans, pushing up to expose his tanned, muscular back.

Sam growled and pulled away to unbutton it, tossing it to the side. Once it made it to the floor his hands began tearing away your clothes and squeezing at your hips. His lips pressed down your exposed torso, gently nosing at your button to your jeans before popping them. He groaned as he pushed the denim down your ass, inhaling your scent deeply as he gripped your ass before removing them the rest of the way.

You whimpered as he took his time mouthing at your panties before ushering them down in his teeth.

He was sexy as hell and practically made by the gods. Out of all the times you imagined your alpha it was never like this.

He was never sculpted with all the hills and valleys that made their way down his chest. The v going and dipping into his jeans and when he removed them you were drooling.

For an alpha he was being cautious and careful in his movements. You could tell. It was possibly due to your injury or the fact you were scared moments earlier. Either way he was being attentive.

When he freed his cock from the confines of his boxers you were pretty sure you’d drown yourself on the floor from your drool.  

You always heard how large alphas were, but he seemed to be a bit larger than the average alpha. But you didn’t have much time to take that in because his lips were finding your’s again.

“You sure?”

It was the first time he spoke since he told you his name. And you were still in a daze that it took you a moment. Even if you wanted coherent words to come out all that did was whimpers and whines as you rutted into him, pushing his cock between your legs causing the head to brush your soaked heat.

Sam growled and pushed into you slowly.

You clutched onto him as he stretched you out deliciously, moans escaping into the air. You clutched around him in response and when he moved it sent you into utter euphoria.

Each stroke of his cock orchestrated a symphony of moans and whines from your kissed swollen lips. His name melted into cries of ‘alpha.’

Sam grunted as he began to pick up speed, slamming into you, his hips slapping against your body. And when he brushed your sweet spot he kept his movements focused there.

You pulled his hair tightly as your orgasm crashed over you in a tsunami. Your walls fluttered and squeezed around his glorious cock sending him over the edge.

Sam pushed into you deeply as his knot swelled and his seed spilled into your heat. He bent down and bit into your sweet spot on your neck, biting hard to mark you as his and his alone.

Just when you thought you were done he made your orgasm intensify as white spots began to form behind your eyes.

By the time you were coming down from your high he was kissing your neck and lips while you panted softly. His pants began to melt with yours as he pulled away slowly when his knot loosened.

You gave him a soft, tired smile as he wrapped you up in his large, sweaty embrace with a giant smile.

“We’ll have another round after this. And next time I’m fucking my pups into you. Show that bastard wolf who gets to fill you to the brim.”

The first time I saw her, she never looked up. She was sitting on a bench by a lamppost, reading a book from the look of it with a cup of coffee sitting beside her. It was a gray day, a little chilly to be doing anything sedentary but she seemed completely ignorant to that fact. She was wrapped up in a navy vest with what looked a like a soft gray hoodie underneath, a dark red scarf wrapped around her neck, a warm hat over her head hiding the hair that wasn’t peaking out from her side braid. She had on a pair of dark jeans and boots that had a piece of gum stuck to the bottom she probably wasn’t aware of. For a second I thought she was the cutest hunter I’d ever seen.

But she wasn’t a hunter. She was just some woman enjoying a fall day in the park, getting lost in her story. 

When I told Sam I’d go jogging with him again the next day, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. I told him I’d do it the once to appease him but today, I wanted to see if she’d be there again. Rounding the corner on the path, I smiled a little, the same hat on a woman sitting at the bench, staring at her book again. I gave a little grunt as I got closer, hoping to get her attention. Sam nudged me, that look in his eye asking if I as about to keel over. I nudged him back and he rolled his eyes, taking off without me. I knew I was slowing him down and this gave me an excuse to stop now.

She didn’t move at all apart from taking a sip of her coffee. I waited until I was just across from her to bend down and untie my sneaker, still a weird concept for me anyways. If I’m hunting, I’m in a pair of heavy boots, not these lightweight things. But Sam got them for me for my birthday and his face lit up when I used them so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

But she still didn’t move her eyes in my direction, instead flickering back and forth over the pages. She was so lost I didn’t dare disturb her. 

Tomorrow I told myself.

I went running by myself the next day, Sam off to help out Jody with something. I didn’t necessarily run until the bend, hoping less sweat would equal better odds. Again she was sitting there and again I faked a shoelace. I glanced over at her, legs crossed, her body completely relaxed, a pair of fingerless gloves on her hands today. She sipped at her coffee she kept in her lap before putting it back in the cardboard tray. 

There was another coffee though. Of course she had a boyfriend. There was no way in the world someone that beautiful wouldn’t, that she’d want some flannel and grease stained brute. He probably wore oxfords and worked in a fancy building with a corner office and thought it was cute she spent her mornings here before he took her out for a fancy brunch.

I got up fast and ran hard the whole way back, finally figuring out one thing running was good for.

It was a few days later when I went running in the late afternoon, the dark gray skies spitting rain at first until it was coming down steady. I was pissed. Not at her. She’d never done anything to me. I’d never even met her. I let myself daydream, let myself pretend again. It didn’t work with Lisa. I never gave Jo the shot she should have gotten. It was always doomed and all I would ever have was hunting and that was it.

The lamppost light was on and there was someone sitting under it in a rain coat, apparently enjoying getting soaked as much as I was. I had my hood up and was so focused on going fast I nearly tripped when the person suddenly stood up and walked right in front of me.

“What the hell man!” I said, giving the person a glare. They reached a smaller hand up to their head and pushed their hood back some, revealing the soft face underneath. 

Her.

“Hi,” she said, giving me a tiny smile. 

“Hi,” I said back too coldly, her face doing a good job of hiding how her body had instinctively taken a step back. But her confidence came back and she got closer, giving me a smile.

“I haven’t seen you the past couple mornings,” she said.

“If you don’t mind, it’s kind of pouring and...” I said, her body stepping out of the way.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she said, her voice going quiet. She started to walk the way I’d came, her head dropping down, her hands fisting around the sleeves of her coat to wrap up her fingers. She was shaking and it was nearly five o’ clock. She had to be frozen to the bone from the looks of it.

“Hey,” I said, her feet stopping in their tracks, her head lifting up and body spining around. “You should get somewhere warm.”

“Yeah,” she said, giving a tiny head nod, turning away again. I bit down a groan and glanced around, trying to figure out how to make this chick not take the long way back to her car. I saw the trashcan nearby and the cups from her, the name Y/N appearing over and over again.

And the name “Cute guy” on about four of them. 

“Hey,” I said again, walking over in front of her. “Who’s cute guy?”

“You,” she said, risking a glance up. “I thought you were maybe going to say hi a couple times so I started buying you a coffee to ask you but I got nervous. You haven’t shown up the past couple days and I was kind of cold so I drank yours earlier.”

Oh way to go Winchester. This is all your fault.

“I’m kind of cold. I think I should head home,” she said, the lightest shade of pink on her face, from the cold or nerves I honestly had no idea. 

“I’m Dean,” I said, regretting it the second I said it. Sparing her a little pain now only to have it come later wasn’t noble. It was selfish.

“You don’t hear the name often,” she said. “It suits you.”

“Can I buy you a coffee?” I asked, wondering why the hell I was digging myself further in this hole.

“Okay. Actually, no, I’m sorry, I can’t. I really want to but I can’t,” she said, giving me a sad face. “I really would like to but I can’t drag you into my life.”

“I can’t drag you into mine either,” I said, not disappointment on her face but understanding. 

“It’s okay. You were nice,” she said, a curious thing to say. She gave almost a wince when she saw my face. “You won’t understand.”

“Try me,” I said, the woman shrugging like there was no point in lying.

“I can’t have a normal relationship. My job is dangerous,” she said.

“So is mine,” I said. She nodded and I gave her one back. “A cup of coffee won’t kill either of us.”

“No strings,” she said.

“No strings.”

We found a coffee shop just down the block, both of us soaking and freezing by the time we got there, wrapping our hands around the scalding hot mugs to warm up. She took a sip and her face scrunched up as she burnt her tongue, poking the tip out like a little kid, trying to soothe away the sudden pain.

She barely said a word and I barely said one back. It was amazingly simple to sit there with a stranger and just take her in, knowing I was allowed to because she was doing it right back. Until her phone rang and the peaceful bubble broke, our not coffee date surely done with. 

“That was work,” she said after hanging up. “I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” I said, hearing my own phone go off, glancing down to see it was Sam. “I think my work is calling too.”

“It was nice meeting you, Dean.”

“You too, Y/N.”

For another two weeks we did our little dance, Y/N would read on the bench, I’d take a break for a minute from the jogs I still hated, neither one of us saying anything, neither one of us willing to put an end to it. Until one day she leaned over and grabbed hold of my arm, fingers not even able to wrap around it all the way.

“I have to know. What’s your last name?” she asked.

“Winchester,” I said, a wide smile over her face. “Why is that important?”

“Because maybe we can make it work,” she said. “Hunters stick together right?”

“If I said how to kill a vamp...” I asked, hoping she didn’t think I was nuts.

“Take off the head. None of that stake and garlic stuff,” she said. I sat on the bench next to her, her hand sliding down my arm. “Weaken them with dead man’s blood.”

“You’re a hunter,” I said, moving her hand down to my own. “You’re an actual hunter.”

“I understand if you don’t want to-”

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” I asked. “I’d really...you know people like us don’t get shots like this.”

“Only if it’s a date,” she said.

“It’s definitely a date.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug @darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball @feelmyroarrrr  @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass @fangirl1802 @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen @missmotherhen @smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester

@tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha @bennyh @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl @xxxdevine-demonsxxx @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @atc74 @captainemwinchester @nanie5 @idalinette @quiddy-writes @pureawesomeness001 @poukothenerd @af112992 @mickey-m399 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @upon-a-girl @amazinntay @akshi8278 @baconlover001 @flufy07 @jayankles @alilianamendez @batmanprincesskitten @uniquewerewolfsuit @whit85-blog @spn-ficfanatic

@zeusmyster @maddieburcham1 @moonstar86 @kathaswings @my-blogging-skills-are-rusty @arryn-nyxx @kickasscas67 @mrsbatesmotel53 @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @i-ship-crazy-crap @untitled39887 @extreme-supernatural-lover @emilymorgan1994 @boxywrites @fallen-castiel @its-not-a-tulpa @pillow223 @jaelami @roxyspearing @fandom--shipper

“Y/N/N…” He reached out for her and she could not resist the pull any longer.  

Slowly, she unfolded herself from the chair and crawled into bed with Sam. Y/N fell instantly against him, hiding her face against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. His chin settled atop her head and he held on tight, letting her cry for as long as she needed.

They didn’t speak, they didn’t need to. Dean’s snores broke the quiet of the room and finally Y/N pulled back a bit, her tears having faded into Sam’s gray pajama top. She ran a hand across the wetness and gave him a shy smile.

“Sorry.”

Sam laughed softly and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand slid around to cup her cheek and he brushed away a lingering teardrop with his thumb. “Want to talk about it?”

“No?” She smiled. “Just me being stupid.”

“Not stupid, Y/N. You’re never stupid.” His eyes roamed her face and Y/N got caught up in the wild kaleidoscope, visible even in the faint light trickling in from the window. They were almost fully green in the dark, with a deep blue that cut across each iris like a starburst. Sam’s eyes came back up to meet hers, and a shy smile pulled at his lips. “What?”

“I love you.”

She hadn’t meant to say it, at least not the way it came out. A hundred times in jest or in friendly meaning the words had left her lips, but tonight they said something more. She did love Sam, more than a friend, more than a hunting buddy, more than family. She was in love, and there it was. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe the emotional drain of hours of crying had pushed her to it, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

Sam’s mouth twitched with a smile and surprise. “What?” he asked again, with a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she said, momentarily wanting to backtrack, to take back the confession. Her heart beat fast and her mind buzzed, and then, she went all in. “Well, no, actually, I’m not sorry. I love you, Sam.”

His cheeks burned bright and Y/N’s face fell. Sam looked down and away for a moment, as if processing everything, trying to find a way to let her down. Y/N closed her eyes, wanting to scream, wanting to run from the room and out into the cold Wisconsin night, to disappear forever. She opened her mouth to speak, to fix what she’d done, but the most incredible thing happened: Sam leaned forward and kissed her. His hand, still on her cheek, held her tight and his lips moved against hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was as if their mouths were made to fit against each other; their hearts beat like they’d always been missing the other. Y/N parted her lips and took her first taste of him; he was heat and mint and so perfectly Sam.

When he pulled back, Y/N sucked in a deep breath and looked to him in shock. Again, his thumb brushed her cheek and when he spoke, her heart nearly burst.

“I love you too.”

Settle down with me Cover me up Cuddle me in

Lie down with me And hold me in your arms And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

That first night led to a hundred others, but the lovers took their time. They were so used to the rush and fleeting lust of a one night stand, they reveled in the action of falling in love. They held hands, they joked in the quiet, they made love slowly until their desires were sated and minds eased.

Sam found something in Y/N he hadn't even been looking for, something he had long ago decided he would never have. In Y/N he found a home. He found a friend and a heart that beat just for him. He found a secret smile, and gentle hands that were only his and no one else's. He found hope for a different life; a promise of a future that had never seemed truly attainable.

And in Sam, Y/N was given safety and a selfless love. A man who would beat off any threat, save her from the darkness inside and out, and still run his fingertips gently over her eyelids and kiss her breathless. He was strength and beauty; he was all in with every action, heart and soul.

Life was not easy. The universe cared nothing for their blossoming love, and their happiness was often punctuated with worry and pain. Sweeping caresses were often replaced by heavy hands keeping pressure on gaping wounds, and lustful touches sometimes instead held needles that mended torn skin. But always, they fell back into each other's arms, seeking comfort and warmth; finding a refuge in midnight kisses and whispered ‘I love you’s.

Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

The sun set in a sea of golden and orange light that lit the world and their faces. Y/N sat on the picnic blanket, wrapped up in Sam, her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun sinking slowly behind the dusky blue mountains, sighing contently as night began to fall.

“This is lovely. Thank you, Sam.” Y/N shifted to kiss his cheek, but he caught her face in his big hand and turned so the kiss landed on his lips instead. It was sweet and warm, filled with all of his love, and she smiled into it, pulling away with a laugh. “You’re so cute,” Y/N whispered, and kissed the tip of his nose.

Sam blushed, ever awkward when she gave him a compliment. After all this time, countless nights spent together in each other’s arms, he still seemed unsure and surprised by her affections.

Y/N sighed, wrapped her arm tighter across his chest, and settled back into him. “Someday,” she said, “you’re going to believe me.”

He laughed and she felt him nod. “Maybe.”

It was the end of a long day that trailed at the end of a longer week. Witches in Wyoming had sent them on a goose-chase for the better part of four days, and they were both exhausted. Still, Sam had taken time to sneak away and plan a little picnic for them up on the hill. He doubted Y/N realized what day it was, as she didn’t mention anything, or ever really hold to such traditions, but he wanted to mark the date.

He had packed a backpack with blankets stolen from the Impala’s trunk, one to sit on and one to snuggle under, and made a secret trip to the store for fruit and cheese and a few other things. The bottle of wine had perplexed him at the store, but he settled on a label that said “sweet”, and Y/N didn’t seem to mind either way. The food didn’t matter, the wine made no difference, she was just happy to sit with Sam in the cool autumn air and relax. The fact that he had planned such an outing made her heart leap, and her cheeks soon burned from the smile she could not get rid of.

As the sun finally hit the mountain top, Sam cleared his throat and fiddled with his jacket pocket, forcing Y/N to sit up off of his chest.

“You OK, baby?” Her smile was so perfect that Sam nearly forgot what he was trying to do.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He nodded and then took a breath. “So, I don’t know if you remember this, but…”

“Oh, God…” Y/N cringed and squinted at him. “What’d I do?”

He laughed and bit the corner of his mouth as he tried to get himself going again. He had been rehearsing in his head all day, slipping like a spy into the bathroom to talk to his reflection, but saying it all out loud was proving difficult. Especially when Y/N kept making him laugh.

“You didn’t do anything,” Sam said, blowing out a quick breath. “Y/N,” he began, trying not to sound like a lawyer addressing the court. “One year ago tonight, you were crying by a window.”

“Oh Sam!” Y/N jumped back and away, covering her surprised gasp with one hand. “I didn’t even realize! I’m so sorry!”

He held up a hand to ask her to stop talking, and she pivoted on the blanket to face him, calming down. “It’s OK. I remembered.” He reached over then and lifted her left hand. “It was one year ago that you were crying by a window,” he said again and held up his hand. Y/N placed her open palm against his, and he laced their fingers gently together, holding on. “A year ago that you slipped into bed with me. A year ago that we first kissed.” He paused and looked into her eyes. Tears were glistening there, as if she already knew what he meant to say. 

“Sam…” her voice was low and tight as she fought hard, trying not to cry. She could feel it deep inside, pulling at her heart, but she held it back. She wanted to be sure.

“Y/N, I have questioned every moment of my life, every decision I've ever made. But I have never once questioned you. Or, this.” From his pocket, Sam pulled a blue velvet ring box, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he let her hand go and opened the lid.

“Oh, my god.” The tears would not wait any longer, and just like that night by the window, Y/N crying, letting it all out, except this time they were tears of love, not pain.

The ring was a thin silver band with a small round diamond that captured the waning light and sparkled against the velvet.

“Y/N Y/L/N…”

“Wait!” Y/N gasped and held up her hands, begging for a moment to collect herself. Thankfully, Sam laughed, and they both took a deep breath together. When she opened her eyes and met his, she nodded quickly, her cheeks wet with tears, her smile unstoppable. “OK… sorry… go ahead.”

“Y/N Y/L/N…”

She gave a muted squeal, stopping him accidentally this time, but Sam pushed on with a smile.  

“Marry me, Y/N/N. Please.”

The ring fit perfectly on her finger, as if it had been made just for her.

The kiss was deep and held so much. It was a promise and a request. It was “I’ll love you forever, and I hope you do the same.”  

The sky was clear and purple as night fell around them. A cold wind lifted their hair and tickled their skin, but neither cared. All was warm and safe in the other’s arms.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

FOREVERS:

@27bmm @akshi8278  @allinhishands @amanda-teaches @ameliaponders @arryn-nyxx @asxualgallavich  @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @babypieandwhiskey @bea789 @because-imma-lady-assface @becauseyouwishedit @becominglionhearted @blacktithe7 @blanketmadeofstar @blood-on-roses @brewsthespirit-blog @brooke-supernatural16 @callmesatansprincess @captainemwinchester @carmenisafangirl @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charred-angelwings @charliebradbury1104 @chelsea072498 @chrisevansisdaddy04 @chumi-la-chula @crispychrissy @cyrilconnelly @dannnyphantomm @daughterleftbehind @disphandomgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @dreamingofwinchesters @dustycelt @dylanosprayberry03 @easelweasel @emoryhemsworth  @emptywithout @evansrogerskitten @evyiione @fabulouslycassie @faegal04 @faithfullpanicmoon @fallen-castiel @fandomsanarchy @fandomismyspiritanimal @feelmyroarrrr @fightmenegan @findingfitnessforme @freddy-fuckboy-tammy @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @gemini75eeyore @ginamsmith @growningupgeek @hair-dresses @hannahsakorax3 @hareliketherabbit @hexparker @idreamofhazel @ilsawasanacrobat @imascreamerbabymakemeamute @im-super-potter-locked @impalaimagining @inthedepthsofdespair @itstatertot22 @j2-winchester-boys @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @jayankles @jesspfly @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @jotink78 @jpadjackles @katrodriguez99 @katymacsupernatural @kdfrqqg @lauren-novak @letmusicguideu @lipstickandwhiskey @li-ssu @lizmalfoywayland @luciisthebest @luulaachops @maddieburcham1 @mandilion76 @megansescape @meganwinchester1999 @mein1928 @mija-novella @milkymilky-cocopuff @missdestiel67 @mjdoc90 @mogaruke @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-life-is-here-soo @myfand0msandm0re @myloveforyouxx @mysteriouslyme81 @naadestiel @nekobemura @nerdysandwichqueen @nichtlisax @notesfromalabprincess @ohgodjensen @ohmychuckitssamanddean @percussiongirl2017 @petrovadixon @pinknerdpanda @please-lives-are-at-stake @poukothenerd @precious-bands-love @privatebecks2313 @queencflair @queen-of-deans-booty @riddikulus-obsessions @riversong-sam @roxy-davenport @roxyspearing  @samisimportant @sam-w @sandlee44 @sgarrett49 @shhhs3cret @silvershadow545 @sofreddie @sophiebobzz @spn-fan-girl-173 @squirrel--moose--giraffe @sumara62 @summer-binging-spn @super100012 @super-not-naturall @supernaturallymarvellous @tardis-is-mine @taste-of-dean @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @the-moose-of-baskerville @theoutlinez @therosecolouredpost @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thinkwritexpress-official @tmccarney @trexrambling @typicalweirdbookworm @uniquewerewolfsuit @vacam79 @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @waywardswain @weasleywinchester @winchesterprincessbride @wordstothewisereaders @xxmizzlexx @yearoftheweasley @yvngkinggchristyy

Sammy Lovers:

The last hunt hadn’t gone exactly as anyone had hoped but it was finally over and the world was short another werewolf thanks to your combined efforts. All any of you cared about, however, had been getting home. You’d been looking forward to some much needed alone time with Dean. Things had begun to feel off between the two of you lately, but you had a feeling that was in direct correlation to the number of stitches and bruises you’d accumulated recently.

The ride back to the bunker had been a quiet one and it hadn’t taken long for a plan to formulate in your mind. When you’d finally approached the entrance to the garage, you’d all three sighed in relief. Dean had called first dibs on the shower and you took the opportunity to scour the cupboards for supplies.

That was yesterday. Since then, you and Dean have managed to do little more than sleep and neither of you were too upset by this fact. You’d snuck out while he was still sleeping, leaving a note on the bed for him to meet you in the clearing behind the bunker in an hour.

As the dense woods opened up, you found the exact spot you’d been looking for. You’d found it by accident not long after you’d moved in. Thankfully the path had been worn down over the years by both Sam and Dean or you may never have emerged from the trees at all that day.

It had been a dark, misty night and the reality of what you’d just experienced - no, survived - had overwhelmed and consumed you and you had done the one thing you could think to do - run. You can’t recall now how long you’d sat in this very same place - your knees tucked up under your chin and your hair plastered against your face as you’d convulsed involuntarily from the tears and the cold. All you remember for sure was the immediate shock of fear that had exploded through you when you’d felt a hand on your shoulder and the way your body had flooded with immense relief when you’d looked up to find green eyes staring back at you.

That was the night you’d first realized that, despite all that had been taken from you, you could actually survive. And not just survive, but thrive. Dean had been patient and compassionate and you’d fallen in love with him before you’d had the opportunity to talk yourself out of it.

You smile to yourself at the memory; it’s hard to believe how much can change in a year. Setting the bag down, you remove the blanket and spread it across one of the long, faded logs that had been carefully arranged in a half circle. You check the time on your phone - thirty minutes to go -  before searching for “how to build a campfire” - thank God for YouTube - and setting to work.

The orange and red flames have just begun to creep skyward, consuming each other and folding in on themselves as they hungrily devour the heap of wood underneath, when you hear the gentle crunch of footsteps approaching. The steady popping and creaking of the fire accentuates each step as the sound draws nearer.

“What’s all this about?” Dean’s smooth baritone rumbles through the autumn breeze, his lips curve upward and confusion is etched into the planes of his face. He stops a few yards from you, his gaze absorbing every detail before him.

You feel your stomach drop, suddenly unsure. But as his brilliant, green eyes return to yours, every doubt you could have managed to concoct drains from your mind. The look on his face is pure joy, from the tiny crinkles under each eye to the wide, toothy smile; it had been far too long since you’d seen him this happy.

“I just thought we were about due for some alone time,”  you grin, stretching a hand out towards him and wiggling your fingers for him to take it.

The weight of his palm against yours is enough to make your chilled skin flare with a warmth that has little to do with the fire you’re approaching. You guide him to the blanket-draped log and motion for him to sit.

He lowers himself and you join him. He’s silent for several seconds and it seems as though he expects to find the words he’s searching for in the dancing flames.

Grabbing the thermos and two paper cups from your bag, you unscrew the lid and fill them with the steaming, amber liquid. You hand one to Dean who graciously accepts the drink before taking a tentative sip.

“That’s delicious! Tastes like that apple pie you make,” he moans somewhat obscenely as he hastily takes another swig.

“Full disclosure?” you lock your fingers around the cup, allowing the heat of the cider to warm your hands. Dean nods. “I buy those apple pies from the grocery store in town.”

Dean blinks a few times before a deep chuckle explodes from his lips. “I knew it! For a while I was convinced you were some kind of pie-ninja, but then I started noticing patterns and I tracked….”

“Ok, Winchester, no shop talk,” You wink at him, setting your cup down before grabbing the two sharpened sticks that have been propped on the end of the makeshift bench. You hand one to Dean and then, after rummaging again through your bag, produce a bag of large, fluffy marshmallows, a box of graham crackers and a fistful of Hershey bars. “No campfire is complete without s’mores.”

“I can’t even remember the last time I had one of those!” Dean beams at you through the warm shadows cast by the fire’s glow.

“I thought they sounded pretty tasty,” you chuckle as you skewer a marshmallow on the end of your stick.

“Woah woah woah,” he jerks the stick from your hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna burn this marshmallow and then I’m gonna eat it - sandwiched between melted chocolate and two halves of a graham cracker - the way God intended it,” you scrunch your nose up, not understanding Dean’s look of incredulity.

“It’s like I don’t even know who you are, y/n,” his eyes glint with a hint of teasing. “First of all, why the hell would you want to burn it? And b, you can’t come into this all half-cocked. What happens when your marshmallow has reached optimum toastability - “

“When it’s burnt,” you interject, reaching for your stick and Dean cringes, holding it just out of reach.

“Optimum toastability,” he continues, more firmly, pronouncing each syllable carefully, “and you don’t have your runway cleared for landing?”

“Are we still talking about s’mores, Dean? Because I’m very confused.”

He props your stick against the log and purses his lips, his eyes staring straight into yours as he removes a graham cracker and breaks it into two pieces. He sets both on one of his knees and, without looking away, grabs a Hershey bar. Breaking it into four sections, he places one on each graham cracker half and set the other two aside. He flattens his hand with his palm up and motions across his work like a model from the Price is Right.

“Your runway is now cleared for landing, m’lady.” He hands your stick back before repeating his efforts and stabbing his own marshmallow.

“Can I roast this puppy now, please?” you smirk, unable to look away from his angular jaw lightly peppered with scruff. Your heart swells as you study this incredible dichotomy of a man; all his nerdiness - usually buried under a thick layer of sarcasm and self-assured swagger - on full display. You aren’t sure if you could love him more that you do right now.

“Burn baby burn,” he rolls his eyes, snickering as you lower your sticks into the flames.

Dean carefully rotates his skewer, never allowing it to stay in one spot for too long, ensuring a perfectly golden crisp to form. You, however, unceremoniously shove your own  into the largest flame, smiling triumphantly as it ignites and every speck of white is consumed by the hungry, merciless flame. From the corner of your eye you can see Dean grimacing. After a few seconds, you lift your stick and puff out a breath to extinguish what remains of the fire.

“So wrong,” Dean shakes his head as he assembles his sugary sandwich.

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, babes,” you mumble as you squish the now blackened marshmallow between the two halves of the “runway” as Dean had deemed it, the chocolate melting instantly and melding with the other ingredients.

Without intending to, you each take your first bite in unison and groan with delight as your personalized creations hit your tongues. You’re both so completely consumed with your enjoyment of the treats that several minutes pass, the only sounds are those from the fire pit and the crunching of your s’mores.

You dig two wet-wipes from your bag and pass one to Dean. Neither of you had been successful in your attempts to eat them mess-free. Once you’re both cleaned up, Dean stretches one, large, muscular arm around your back and you melt against him, sighing contentedly. The silence is comfortable, and it lingers as Dean’s thumb rubs small circles against the ball of your shoulder. You concentrate, determined to drink in as many of the details of this moment before they vanish in a puff of smoke. The rich, earthy smell of the fire complementing Dean’s own scent so perfectly; the sound of his chest rising and falling steadily against your head; the feel of his lips against your hair.

“Y/n,” his voice is soft. “This is…” he trails off, leaning back to look down into your eyes. His free hand sweeps a stray hair from your face before lowering to cup your chin, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Thank you.” He smiles broadly and you quickly etch the image into your mind’s eye; it’s far too rare an occurrence not to remember it.

His kiss is soft and slow, as though this moment could last for the rest of your lives. When he finally breaks the kiss your eyelids are heavy and you feel as though the world is spinning erratically.

“I love you,” he pecks the top of your head again before cradling you once more to his chest. And for one night, though brief, you aren’t Y/n and Dean, hunters. You are just two people enjoying the crisp autumn evening, wrapped in the arms of the person you love and you have never felt more free. The monsters and demons? They’re still out there and they’ll have to face their fate eventually. But right now, you couldn’t care less.

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love ya’ll - stay weird!):

@wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67  @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m  @easelweasel @masksandtruths @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

When your best friend, Eileen, had gotten together with Sam Winchester, you’d been beyond happy for the two of them. You loved Sam almost as much as you loved Eileen, and they’d both been through such heartache and pain in their lives, that they, more than anyone, deserved to find happiness. You, for one, were so glad they’d found it in each other.

So, when Sam came to you and told you he was thinking of planning a romantic getaway for him and Eileen, you’d been all for it. Your best friend deserved some alone time with her man, and they both needed some time outside of the bunker to be together as a couple, without you, Dean or Cas getting in the way. You quickly volunteered to help him plan it, but things seemed to keep getting in the way. Between Lucifer and the crazy British Men of Letters chick, it seemed like the universe never wanted this weekend to happen.

But, you finally caught a break in early November. Everything seemed to have calmed down for the time being, and you were living in a time of relative quiet, which was rare in this life, so now seemed like the perfect time to get the getaway plan in motion.

You happily helped Sam pick a cabin Eileen would love out by the lake. It was isolated and beautiful, and it’d be a perfect fall escape for the two of them. Once all of the plans were finalized, Sam surprised Eileen with the trip.

Just as you knew she would be, she was beyond happy, signing so quickly and excitedly that even you had trouble keeping up. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw the joy that came over Sam’s face at her reaction. He loved her so much that just making her happy was enough to make him happy. That was everything.

But, just like with everything in your lives, something was bound to go wrong eventually. This time, it waited until the week before the trip.

Sam and Dean got called away on a routine werewolf hunt. They were supposed to gank the monster in plenty of time to make it back, but they ended up getting delayed by an early November snowstorm blasting Minnesota. Unfortunately, that meant that they wouldn’t end up making it back in time for Sam and Eileen’s cabin getaway.

Eileen was crushed, but you weren’t going to give up that easy. You were determined to find a way to salvage the weekend for your best friend, even if Sam was stuck in the ridiculously snowy Minnesota. So, that was how you ended up sitting in the living room of the cozy two-bedroom cabin trying to turn Eileen’s ill-fated romantic getaway into a fun girl’s weekend.

“Come on, Eileen,” you insisted enthusiastically, “we can still have fun. The cabin’s already paid for, so we should try to enjoy it.”

Eileen frowned at you and responded, her words punctuated by half-hearted signs. “No offense, Y/N, but you weren’t exactly the person I envisioned when I pictured this weekend. So, you’ll forgive me when I say I’m not exactly in the mood for fun.”

You were about to respond with another argument in favor of a fun diversion when the sound of a knock at the door silenced both of you. You let all of your thoughts fall away as years of hunter’s instinct instantly kicked in, with both you and Eileen drawing your guns at the exact same moment. 

You moved as one to the door, perfectly in sync, with Eileen taking the lead. You steadied your gun and held your breath ever so slightly as she reached for the doorknob, ready to cover her against whoever, or whatever, was on the other side.

The tension quickly drained out of you the second you recognized the familiar, shaggy-haired man standing in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief as Eileen leaped into Sam’s arms and lowered your gun.

Once the two lovers had properly reunited, they pulled apart, creating enough room for Sam to step into the cabin. It was only then that you noticed Dean standing behind him, looking ridiculously sexy in his green canvas jacket, flannel, and faded jeans, jeans that showed off his bow legs a little too well, not that you were complaining. You swallowed and pushed away your distracting thoughts, replacing them with a genuine smile.

“Hey, what are you two doing crashing our girls weekend?” you proclaimed jokingly.

Sam grinned, looking at you for the first time since he’d arrived. “Technically,” he said, grabbing Eileen’s hand as he spoke, “you crashed our romantic weekend.”

“After you bailed,” you said, softening your joke with a smile that he happily returned. Dean, on the other hand, did not look nearly as amused.

“Yeah, I wish we’d been able to bail. Then, I wouldn’t have had to drive through a freakin’ blizzard to get here by tonight. But, no…... Sammy here was so desperate to see his girl that it was worth my Baby getting pelted.”

Sam rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look back at his brother. “The car will be fine, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you tell her tires that!” He scoffed and stepped into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. “You owe me some new ones, dude.”

“Uh huh,” Sam muttered before turning his full attention back on his girlfriend. “I’m so sorry we almost didn’t make it, babe.”

“It’s ok,” Eileen assured him. “All that matters is that you’re here now and we can have our weekend.” She leaned up on her toes for a kiss, and you laughed as Dean made an exaggerated grossed out face behind their backs. Unfortunately, Sam noticed.

“Speaking of which, don’t you two have somewhere else to be?”

“Not after that drive, Sammy,” Dean grunted, throwing his bag down and collapsing into the chair you had been occupying mere moments before. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back wearily. “I’m staying the night. Your romantic weekend will just have to wait.”

You turned to Sam and Eileen and shrugged sympathetically. “I can drive the two of us back if you want…”

“No, don’t!” Eileen reassured you with an easy smile. “The two of you are welcome to stay the night. We can wait until tomorrow for some alone time. Can’t we, Sam?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam agreed unhappily, with a disappointed frown that was almost comical. You could already tell that, for him at least, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Dean, on the other hand, had no such reservations. “Great!” he announced enthusiastically from his spot on the chair. “A night off in the woods. What should we do first?” He opened his eyes and winked at you. “We could always go skinny dipping.”

“Ha ha,” you whispered sarcastically, but you couldn’t help the blush that covered your cheeks at his suggestion. You’d always had a thing for Dean, ever since you’d started working together. After all, who wouldn’t? He was gorgeous and hilarious and tough and sexy. It was natural for you to be a little attracted to him, or a lot attracted to him. But, despite the jokes and innocent flirting, you knew he wasn’t interested in you like that. Somehow, you’d found a way to be okay with that. But, that couldn’t stop you from blushing.

“There’s a fire pit outside,” Eileen said, interrupting your inner monologue. “We could always light one. Maybe make some s’mores?”

“Sounds perfect,” Sam said. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She leaned into him slightly and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing as you watched them. You were beyond happy for them, and not jealous at all, but you couldn’t help but want what they had. That security, that love, was a rare gift.

“Let’s do it!” Dean yelled, jumping up with a sudden burst of energy. He walked towards the door, grabbing your hand and pulling you along as he passed. “Come on, Y/N/N. Let’s get our s’more on.”

You laughed and let him pull you along, happy to just feel the heat of his hand in yours for the moment. You knew you could never have Dean Winchester but, in moments like this, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like. And boy, did it feel good.

Dean pulled you outside into the crisp fall air and over to the fire pit. When he let your hand go to kneel down by the stack of wood, you instinctively pulled your jean jacket tighter around you.

Dean let out a small chuckle and addressed you without even turning around. “Cold, Y/N/N?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered firmly, but your chattering teeth betrayed you.

“Here,” Dean muttered. He finished building the roaring fire and stood up, quickly pulling his canvas jacket off before placing it gently on your shoulders. You pulled it close to you, inhaling the unique scent of Dean- whiskey mixed with a little gunpowder and leather.

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly distracted by the brilliant green eyes that were staring directly at yours. After a few heart-stopping seconds, Dean opened his mouth to say something, but he was stopped by the arrival of Sam and Eileen.

“Got the s’more supplies,” Sam announced, holding up a bag full of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Eileen echoed his excitement and quickly held up four matching sticks.

“Great,” you said quietly, plastering on a smile and moving away from Dean. You settled down on the blanket-covered log next to the fire and reached your hand out for a stick. Eileen handed it to you along with a marshmallow. As you placed your marshmallow on the edge of the stick, Dean settled down next to you. You ignored the heat rolling off of him, instead desperately trying to focus on getting the right toast to your marshmallow.

A half a dozen s’mores, and a few beers, later, your awkwardness was long forgotten as you struggled to contain your laughter at the latest story of the early, prank-filled days of Dean and Sam’s storied hunting career. Dean had his arm wrapped around you effortlessly while you laughed, and you leaned into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, loving the feel of his soft, muscled body against yours.

Around midnight, when Sam and Eileen finally called it a night, you and Dean decided to stay behind for one last s’more. As Dean held his marshmallow over the dying fire, you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, enjoying the slight, fall breeze that washed over you. You tipsily smiled into the sky, content to just be in the quiet moment.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was staring right at you with a strange, soft look on his face. “What?” you asked with a laugh. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he whispered gruffly, his voice wracked with an emotion you couldn’t quite identify. It instantly sobered you up.

“Dean?” you whispered, leaning closer to him. “What is it?”

He slowly brought a hand up to rest on your cheek. “It’s nothing,” he muttered quietly. “But being here with you has me thinking about something I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time.”

You could almost feel your heart stop beating. “And, what’s that?”

“This,” he whispered a second before his lips captured yours. He pressed lightly at first, a little unsure, a little unsteady, but the second you started to respond, the kiss ignited into a wildfire with Dean taking control and you giving as good as you got.

By the time you finally pulled apart, Dean was breathing just as heavily as you were. You were pleased, and a little proud too, to know that the kiss had affected him that much. Apparently, Dean Winchester was just as attracted to you as you were to him.

“Well,” you teased lightly, “that was certainly something.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyes already back on your lips, “that was something all right.”

You unconsciously licked your lips, drawing a soft groan out of Dean. “So...what now?”

He grinned devilishly. “Now, we go test out that second bedroom.”

Your joy-filled laugh was cut off by Dean swiftly pulling you back towards him, his lips once again connecting with yours. He effortlessly picked you up and all but ran to the cabin, both of you desperate to spend all night long seeing just how much further this kiss could go.

The next morning, Sam came out of his room before dawn, gently rubbing the sleep from his bleary eyes. He’d gotten up a little early, determined to get the coffee ready before Eileen woke up. He didn’t even think about where his brother or you had slept in the two bedroom cabin, practically moving on autopilot as he got the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

Just as he was about to turn the coffee maker on, he heard quiet giggling coming from behind the closed door of the second bedroom. He stopped, focusing his eyes on the door when he heard it again. He barely had a enough time to register the sound when the door burst open and you and Dean came barreling out, hanging all over each other and quietly laughing. Dean was shirtless, wearing only his boxers, but that wasn’t what surprised Sam the most. What surprised him the most was the only thing you were wearing: Dean’s shirt.

“Um, guys?” Sam sputtered out, drawing surprised glances out of both of you, “WHAT THE HELL?”

Dean smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist, making you squeal as he pulled you close. “You may want to wake Eileen, Sammy, ‘cause Y/N and I have something we should probably tell the two of you. Spoiler alert: there’s going to be a few changes in the Bunker.”

“Yeah,” you affirmed as you wrapped your arm around Dean’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. “Some very happy changes.”

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @white-sky-black-birds @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @shotgunintheimpala @be-amaziing @jalove-wecallhimdean @there-must-be-a-lock

You planted yourself in the library chair, spreading your textbooks out on the table in front of you. One of the perks of working in the library was you had a spare key. One of the disadvantages was if someone was here for breaks and needed to use the library, you had to drag yourself down just to let them in.

You were so engrossed in studying, unaware of how long you’d been there, that when someone knocked on the glass door, you nearly jumped out of your skin. The culprit stood laughing outside, trying to wave you over in his fit of giggles.

You slunk your way to the door, taking note that it was now pitch black out, and pushed it open in time for a rather cold gust of wind. “Dammit, Sam.” You rolled your eyes at the tall figure in front of you, all bundled in warm winter clothes with a scarf around his neck and a beanie covering the mop of hair he was sporting.

Sam chuckled as he made his way by you. “Why are you here so late?” he asked, making his way to your spot and picking up the current textbook you had open.

“I was studying.”

“Ah,” he hummed, looking at the front of the textbook. “General psychology.” Sam slammed the book shut and set it back on the table. “Let's go do something.”

“Sam, it’s late. I’m not really sure—”

Sam interrupted, “Y/N. Don’t tell me that you’d be going home if I didn’t invite you to do something. You’d still be here studying if I didn’t intrude. You can’t weasel your way out of this one with the excuse of it’s late.”

“I meant to say, it’s late. I’m not really sure any places are open at the moment,” you lied.

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s not that late. Besides, who said we had to leave campus?”

“How do you even have a key to this place?” You asked, rubbing your hands against your arms in order to stay warmer. Fall nights were not as beautiful as some made it out to be. Not unless you were bundled up correctly, which tonight you were not.

Sam held the door open for you, ushering you inside the warm room. Hall A was always warm because they had a fireplace that was constantly on. Sam must’ve already been here tonight, as the lights were already on and there was a stack of good wood beside the fireplace.

“Coffee, hot chocolate or tea?” He asked, shedding his scarf and coat but opting to leave the beanie on.

“What?” You furrowed your brow. “Um. Tea, I guess,” you shrugged, moving to take your own coat off.

“Don’t move. Well, you can sit and such, but don’t leave, alright?” He pleaded, taking a few steps back.

“Sure,” you nodded, sitting down in one of the comfy chairs.

Hall A was a lounge room, a pretty nice one at that. Couples usually hung out here after classes or during lunch and on weekends especially. It was usually busy, and you’d only ever stopped in it once or twice to meet up with a friend. The hall was connected to the dining hall through a small set of double doors. Nobody entered that way, but it was a way nonetheless.

You began to dig into your backpack to study a bit more while Sam was gone, but his voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “You put that book away. There is no studying in Hall A tonight!”

You pouted but slid the textbook back into your bag. Sam handed you your cup of tea and placed his coffee mug down on the bricks in front of the fire pit. He loaded on a few logs and lit them, making sure the wood caught and continued to burn. He sat on the floor in front of the fire, leaning his back on the bricks.

“So, are you gonna tell me how you had a key to this place and why we’re here?”

“It’s fall break and you were going to spend it in the library by yourself, studying. So, I wanted to make sure you got some form of social interaction this weekend.” He took a sip from his coffee, leaning back to get more of the warmth from the fire on him. “And the dean was nice enough to give me the key. Said I was welcome to any of the rooms as long as I cleaned up and locked up after.”

You nodded, cupping the warm tea in both hands. With Sam blocking most of the fire, you were starting to chill a little bit. You noticed Sam move over and took that as an invitation to sit by him. You set your cup down beside his, your side resting against the brick as you faced Sam.

It wasn’t long before conversation struck up between the two of you. Conversations with Sam were always easy. He was your closest friend, at least one who understood not having a home to go home to.

You knew a bit about his family life; somewhere he had a brother and a dad who worked and constantly moved. Sam was lucky to graduate high school with how many different schools he attended. You knew his mom died when he was a baby so he never knew her and that’s when the constant moving started.

Sam knew quite a bit about you too. You had a good family life, a mom and a dad who raised you and your sister on the road. You were honestly surprised at how similar your families were, minus the fact that Sam didn’t have a mom growing up. You wondered if Sam’s family held the same job your family did: hunting, but that just wasn’t a question you up and asked somebody.

Your drinks were gone and the hours began to tick by, the fire slowly dying. Sam checked his watch and frowned sleepily. “Ready to call it a night?” You asked, nudging his knee with your elbow.

Sam nodded. “Now it’s really late,” he laughed, showing you the time. Even when studying you never stayed up this late.

“Good thing we don’t have class tomorrow,” you grinned, pushing yourself up and stretching out your sore and cramped muscles.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you said, slipping your jacket back on. “We should make this an every break thing. If we’re here and dean Walker lets you keep the key, we should have at least one night during the break, just to come here and talk and not worry about anything else.”

“I agree,” Sam added, pulling his jacket over his shoulders and looping the scarf around his neck. “Pinky promise?”

You rolled your eyes, yet held out your pinky for him. “Pinky promise.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @a-fan-fighting-for-equality @smoothdogsgirl @jayankles @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr @27bmm @maddieburcham1 @melonshino @sayukoi @impalaimagining @riversong-sam @atc74 @goldenolaf25 @plaidstiel-wormstache @thegrouchiestunicorn @thebitterbookeater @growningupgeek @sandle44 @rda1989 @weasleywinchester @fightmenegan @itsmyeffingstory @angelblazon @mrswhozeewhatsis @meeshw777 @jotink78 @poukothenerd @mogaruke @devilgirlsarah @queencflair @hexparker @ruprecht0420 @summer-binging-spn @holychuckitsthewinchesters @super100012 @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @supernatural-jackles @taste-of-dean @casownsmyass @danradislife @samisimportant @holyfuckloueh @hsjolie

Dean Tags: @wildfirewinchester @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @akshi8278 @boxywrites @bambinovak @lavieenlex @legend-o-zelda @lipstickandwhiskey @bemyqueenofdarkness @holychuckitsthewinchesters @salvachester @elise1930 @xinyourdreamsx @shouldikeepwatchingorkeepreading

My tag list is still open! Add yourself here!

“Can you meet us?”

“You know, I always cherish these moments with you.”

“Next time I’ll have Cas call you,” Dean answered with a knowing chuckle.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Tell Sam I said hi.”

“Alright, alright. That was a low blow. Can you meet us or not?” You shifted the shovel from its place tucked under your right armpit to your left hand, moving it back and forth absentmindedly. Donna moved away from the fire a few feet to take a call of her own, lifting her hand to point to the phone at her ear. You nodded at her, wishing the fire would burn faster but the little motel-sized bottle of vodka you’d had in your car and the dry autumn foliage was the only accelerant you’d had on hand...so this might take a bit. You sigh.

“Depends.”

“On?” You can hear Sam’s voice in the background, but can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Dude, I’m asking. ‘Kay. Well, Sam mentioned you were kind of an expert on whatever the hell this is supposed to be.”

“High praise.”

“Is that Y/N?” You hear Cas over the speakerphone which Dean must have just switched it to and fight the warmth that is rising in your cheeks.

“Hi, Cas. Hi, Sam.”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Hiya, Y/N. Did Dean tell you we found a case?”

“First thing he said to me actually, Sam.” As the fire began to die down, you dropped the shovel down into the grave to poke at the ashes, watching Donna approach you.

“Don’t act all pissy with me, princess.” You roll your eyes, letting Donna take the shovel as you turn your own phone to speaker.

“Your phone skills are lacking, Dean.” You mutter, following beside Donna as you make your way away from the grave, carefully picking your way through the headstones as the leaves crunch under your feet.

“Hi, Winchesters!” Donna calls out cheerfully, a bright smile on her face.

“Sherriff Hanscum!” Sam calls out. “How’s it going?”

“Better now that Y/N helped me with the ghost. Jody was busy, so she sent her on down. Didn’t even take a whole 24 hours!” You duck your head at Donna’s praise, making her elbow you lightly.

“Y/N is a very thorough hunter,” Cas adds and Donna lets out a little squeal.

“Are you Castiel - the angel?! Claire and Y/N told me ‘bout you!” Donna catches your glare and attempts to backtrack. “Oh, not that we talk about you a lot. Just in passin’, ya know?” You give up and just slap your free hand over your forehead and eyes, stopping at the tree line. “Not that I’m not curious!” She adds hurriedly and you can hear Sam and Dean snicker on the other end. Asshats.

“Alright, alright. Can you meet us or not?” Dean questions again as Donna loads the shovel into her cruiser’s trunk then leans against the side.

“You haven’t told me anything except you found a case. What is it that Team Free Will can’t handle?”

“It’s not that we can’t handle it -”

“Dean, Y/N gave you very detailed instructions to call her if a case came up in or near Sleepy Hollow, New York.” Cas interrupts and you can picture his handsome face so sternly lecturing -- wait.

“Sleepy Hollow? THE Sleepy Hollow?” You manage a deep breath before continuing. “You know what Dean? No. Have a good night Sam and Cas.” Your about to jam your thumb onto the red “End” button - which isn’t half as satisfying as slamming a phone on a receiver or the click of an old school flip phone - when Sam’s voice is calling your name.

“Y/N! Don’t hang up!”

“You gotta give him a chance, Y/N!” Donna yells in tandem, her hands outstretched and aloft in a “Stop” gesture.

“Send me the details, Sam. I’ll read it when I pulled over for my first break. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Just remember I got a hell of a right hook.”

“And I will not heal you from any injuries that Y/N delivers upon you.” You want to brush this off but you know your face has softened at his declaration. Dean’s laughter surprises you a little and when Donna sees your lips curl slightly, she scoffs before smiling herself.

“I love to annoy you, Y/N. You know that. And we’ll be seeing you in few hours.”

“Uh, no. I drive the speed limit, buddy.”

“We’ll see you soon, Y/N. Oh, and I’ve just emailed the news stories to you. And directions.” Dean snickers again and you’d bet your bottom dollar that Sam has a huge grin plastered on his face.

“I get lost once and you two will never let me live it down.”

“Nope. See you soon, kiddo.” Dean calls out and you hear the chair scrape.

“Wait - I have not gotten to say goodbye to Y/N.”

“Goodbye and goodnight Cas. I’ll see you all soon. Bye Sam. Bye asshat.” You disconnect the call, tucking the phone into your back pocket before meeting Donna’s knowing gaze.

”Come on, let’s get you back into town for some shut-eye. You can get a couple hours at least.” Arching an eyebrow, you make your way around to the passenger side and slide in. “Dream some sweet angel-filled dreams.” And there it was.

“Not you too Donna.”

”Oh, I’m all for it. I ship it hard. Isn’t that what that means? All aboard the SS Love Boat featuring Y/N and Cas!” She toots the horn as she pulls onto the road, her laughter filling the cab.

“See if I bring you any more of those caramels you like.”

“I betcha I’ll get lots of those caramels if you get laid.”

---

Even with three hours sleep, you arrive dead ass tired in the town that had fascinated you since childhood.

The seventeen-and-a-half-hour drive was made in about fifteen, which gave you a little time to nap before the Winchesters and Cas showed up. You asked for two rooms, texted Sam that you’d gotten them a room beside yours and you were laying down. Not waiting for a reply, you enter your room, and immediately pulled out your handy dandy notebook which held your handmade stencils. You pull a small can of glow in the dark spray paint out of the side pocket of your duffle before kneeling. You spray on the stencils right above the old baseboards, all except the angel warding, which you put by the light switch with a post-it note below it that read ”Scratch and Sniff: Angel Edition”. Chucking off your dirty skinny jeans and tossing on an overly large t-shirt, you crawl into the cheap motel’s bed, clutching your pillow as you drift off.

---

Three hours later, Dean and Cas kept a lookout while Sam picked the lock to Y/N’s room. A handful of seconds after that, Sam was easing into the room, smirking at the post-it note on the table next to their room keys. “˜Take the keys only if you aren’t going to have loud, obnoxious sex next door. Or sing “Jump” by Kris Kross in the shower at ridiculous-o’clock in the morning.” Y/N and her damn post-it notes. Dean taps the post-it note by the switch, a soft chuckle coming out before he watched Cas slip into the room, closing the door behind him softly, eyeing where he knew she had placed the wardings before his gaze traveled to her sleeping form on the bed farthest from the door. At least she had finally fixed it from the previous hunt they all worked together on.

Sam tossed Dean his room key before shooting Cas a knowing look and slipping through the connecting door. Dean jerked his head towards the open door, Cas following behind with one last look towards Y/N.

“Gonna grab some food, then wake her up and go over everything. Gonna stay here?”

“Yes. I will stay.”

“Thought so.” Cas heard the rumble of the Impala retreat and he wandered back into Y/N’s room, sitting on the edge of the empty bed, listening to her deep, even breaths.

The moment he had met her, it’s like the world had shifted. Each movement she’d made while fighting the vampire was a dance. To someone else, it would seem not as rough, not as trained as Sam and Dean’s kind of fighting - but to him, it was a dance to which only you’d known the music. Three vamps were dead by your hand before he snapped out of it, smiting a few before standing beside Dean, waiting for an introduction. “Oh, by the way, this is Cas. He’s an angel,” Cas had fought not to shoot a sharp look at Dean, extending his hand out. You had taken his hand, squeezing it and smiling at him warmly.

Each encounter, ten in total - not counting this current case - had only made his feelings grow and consume him. Every smile, joke, show of your intelligence and the kindness that radiated from your soul had him longing for you. Desperate for every look and touch you would bestow on him.

He heard your breathing pattern change, watched you shift under the covers then settle back down just minutes before he heard the Impala once more outside.

Dean and Sam entered through their room door, leaving their jackets and taking quiet footsteps into her room. You shifted again, the smell dragging you from unconsciousness.

“Are those tacos?” The rough sleepiness of your voice had Cas filled with want. A want to lie beside you and hear your voice like that every morning. He quickly pushed those thoughts away, moving to stand.

“You bet your sweet little ass they are.” Dean watches as you shift to a sitting position, pushing the covers down to your lap and rub your eyes with the heel of your hand. You give Cas a lopsided smile before making grabby hands at the bag Dean’s holding. Sam sets a cup on the nightstand before sitting down beside you then digging into his own bag.

“Hi, Cas.”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“I see I got the warding right this time. It didn’t cause you any problems?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Good. Now, Dean, hand over the tacos.”

“This bag is all yours, princess.” He drops the bag into your lap before taking a chair from the table and flipping it around to straddle.

“You read the articles?” Sam manages around a mouthful of burrito and you get out a nod, shoving most of a street taco into your mouth as Sam’s lips twitch. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh...Donna made me some waffles before I left her house. Then I went to the motel and slept for a couple hours before I started heading here. Ooh! And I had about half a bag of jerky when I stopped just before the Ohio state line.”

“Told ya,” Dean told Sam. “That’s why I got fifteen of those little tacos. Dude looked at me like I was crazy.”

“You kinda are, Dean.” You shifted a little, gesturing to the other bed. “Sit, Cas. Please.” He nods and resumes his seat. You swallow down the fourth - or fifth? Sixth? - taco and unwrap another from its tinfoil prison. “Yeah, I read the articles. Well, two. The last one wouldn’t load all the way. I just assumed I was in a dead spot and you’d fill in whatever was missing. But the basics, of all three articles, are that suddenly people are seeing a headless horseman. Who chases them through the glen and to the bridge. Then disappears.”

“Yep.”

“It’s not possible.” You tell Dean with a heavy sigh, taking a big bite before softly groaning. This would have to be your last taco. For now.

“Y/N, we deal with impossible things all the time. I’m pretty damn sure it’s possible.”

“No, it’s not possible, Dean. Ichabod got rid of the Hessian spirit.”

“That’s a story.”

“You’ll be a story one day. Look, the reason you called me was that every hunter I’ve met and worked with knows how I am about Sleepy Hollow. When I tell you it isn’t possible, it isn’t possible.” You carefully wrap up what’s left of your wonderful taco bounty and push the covers away, moving to the small motel fridge.

Dean smirks when he sees Cas’s eyes go wide at seeing you aren’t wearing pants. And that sleep shirt may be four sizes too wide for you, but it’s not that long. They can all see gray and purple striped bikini-style underwear perfectly. You move from the fridge to your duffle, with a pair of dark sapphire eyes glued to your ass, squatting down to rummage through until you found the college notebook you always kept with you. You return to the bed, shuffling the covers haphazardly over your bare legs.

“Washington did take a lot of things from real life. The names of his main characters, the locations, and the old European stories of headless riders – like the Wild Hunt, The Wild Huntsman, etc. Ichabod Crane was an army captain. Only he wasn’t.”

“I thought he was a schoolteacher.”

“In the story, he is. But apparently, we’ve been bullshitting since we came to this country because Ichabod wasn’t an army captain, he was a Hunter. It took me nearly fifteen years to track down just where his actual resting place was,” You flip the notebook open nearly halfway before handing it to Sam. “And when I did track down a headstone, that’s all it was. He was cremated.”

“Lots of people are cremated,” Dean argues.

“Lots of headstones have the Aquarian Star carved into the stone?” You smirk at the eldest Winchester. “Didn’t think so.” You rise and return to your duffle again, tugging on a pair of clean skinny jeans. “It makes sense. An American hunter who is involved not only in the war for independence but trying to follow any orders he might have gotten from the Men of Letters regarding monsters. Not that they’d be terribly helpful since we were trying to cut ties with them - But he meets a writer who likes his name - enough to use it for his most famous tale. Washington Irving made Ichabod superstitious...but what if that was something he noticed in the captain? What if he saw the Aquarian Star or a Devil’s Trap and decided that was a great basis for his story?” You sit at the end of your bed, face to face with Dean. “Dean - this, this place - I’ve been dreaming about it since I was little. Not like other girls dreamed of being Disney princesses, though I did that too. But I can hear it. The leaves shaking in the breeze, the even breaths of the old horse and the soft hoofbeats on the old trail.” Dean is searching your face, trying to find the lie. “I know Ichabod crossed that bridge. I know he had something of the horseman’s. And once he was safely across, he burned it, getting rid of the spirit.” You sigh, letting your head fall into your waiting hands, tugging softly at your hair trying to clear out all the thoughts and sounds.

“I’ve asked you before if you were psychic. And you said no.”

“It’s not that. It’s more like a memory. Like I was there or close by.”

“Could you recognize it?” Sam speaks up from behind you, leaning forward enough that a few pieces of hair swing towards his eyes.

“I’ve been all over the area, searching for the place I saw. I’ve never found it.” You shrug, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.”I’ve got a map in my notebook, I always start at the bridge and wander from there... but I don’t know anymore.”

“Time changes how things look. I could alter how you would see the woods, how it would have appeared around Ichabod’s time.” Cas offers, standing and shifting minutely as her gaze settled on him.

“Really? That would be amazing Castiel!” You toss yourself at Cas, wrapping your arms around him tightly. His hands hesitate before patting your back a few times, silently memorizing every detail of this encounter. You pull away with a giant grin. “Let me grab my shoes and socks and we can head out, okay?” Castiel nodded at her words, his eyes darting to Dean who was sporting a knowing, wide grin. Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean as Sam handed the notebook back, heading between Dean and Cas to their room for his jacket, his own small smile at Cas and your exchange tugging at his lips.

“Ready?” You ask breathlessly, eagerness flowing from you, hurriedly pulling on your cotton-lined, dark blue faux leather jacket and sliding the room key into the inner pocket before zipping it up.

“I am always ready,” Castiel answers with a small smile, moving to hold the door open as the Winchesters come back through her room and follow behind her, still sporting those stupid smiles.

---

In the dark, nothing looked familiar. Not even with Cas’s long fingers wrapped around your wrist, altering your view of the autumn trees and the black path ahead.

Dean made the decision about forty minutes in that it’d be better to come back in the morning, after a visit to the police in Fed gear to get more information and a few hours’ sleep.

Sam and Dean began heading back to the Impala, talking softly while you hung back, Cas’s hand still warm on your wrist. The contact had your face flushing, happy it was dark enough to cover the way your gaze couldn’t settle on just one thing.

“I am sorry we could not discern anything more. Hopefully, tomorrow will bring more luck.”

“It’s okay Cas. At this point, I’m pretty used to disappointment when it comes to this.” You wave your free hand for emphasis at the surrounding trees. “Why do you think I remem -” You froze, hearing a breeze whip up as the leaves shudder around the pair of you, hoofbeats sounding off in the distance. Sam could be seen at the head of the path.

“You guys coming?!” You can see the shiny black paint of the car just behind him as you turn back to Cas, his fingers digging into your wrist as he tugged you behind him, the hoofbeats getting louder. “Dean! Gun it!” You hear Sam shout before Cas turns slightly, keeping his gaze trained further up the trail.

“Get to the car.” His order is firm, his Angel blade slipping from his coat sleeve, the silver metal shining in the faint moonlight. Your hands grasp his biceps through his trench coat, pressing yourself against his back as dirt flies around your lower body - Dean whipping Baby into the tight space just behind you.

That’s when he appeared.

Astride a huge black horse, it’s rider seemingly looking down upon you - even with his lack of head - as the orange and red leaves of autumn settled around the hooves of his steed.

The chill that ran down your spine was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and the quick seeping cold of the fall night.

The rider let loose a deep chuckle, pulling up the dark red bag that hung loosely from his pommel as you feel big hands on your arms, tugging you from your place behind Cas. It just made you cling tighter to the angel, staring just past him.

And anger welled within you from so deep, you couldn’t even fathom where this burst came from. It was just suddenly there, as large and tangible as the rider.

Poor Cas didn’t even have time to react when you shoved him into Sam, running towards the horseman as rage flowed through your veins.

By the time Cas popped over to you, Dean and Sam hot on his feathery heels, you had yanked the rider from his horse and straddled his torso. The first cries from the man beneath you have Cas withdrawing his hands from your upper arms, peering curiously down at the being.

“Please! I just wanted to have some fun! Please ma’am! I’m only twenty-four!”

“You little motherfucker!!” You grunt, yanking the large black hood that blocked his head from view before dealing him a vicious right hook. “You little shit! Do you know what I’ve -- ma’am?!”

“Okay, that’s enough of that.” Dean snaps out as Cas hauls you off the guy. “Ya know, the lady that just handed your ass to you just drove nearly fifteen hours to get here. All because you were playing a prank.” Dean licks his lips, smirking down at the kid. “I should let her wail on you some more...”

“I swear I won’t do it again, sir! I’ll never pull another prank again! I swear! I swear!” The poor dumbass is nearly in tears by the end and you’re so zoned out by the sudden loss of your rage you can’t manage anything but feeling.

And Lord - what you’re currently feeling is the stuff of dreams.

Cas’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm still wound tightly around your middle as his heat warms you. All of him is lean, strong, warm and a particular part is hard. If you’d been in your right mind, you would have told yourself that it was just adrenaline or some other excuse, but in this mindset, where you were so beyond anger, you couldn’t give two shits. You lean against him, letting your head loll back to rest against his shoulder, taking in his ozone and rain scent as your eyes flutter closed. He tenses beneath you for a millisecond before his fingers tighten, holding you close.

---

The ride back to the motel is quiet. Dean tries to make a few lighthearted jokes, but you can’t stop thinking back to being in Cas’s embrace. Hell, he had to maneuver you into the Impala after the Winchesters had threatened the bastard who was running around scaring the locals and you’d followed them back to the car with the angel’s gentle grip on your elbow.

Lord, this was a mess. You were a mess. First falling for the angel and now loosing yourself in this feeling after the blunder that you’d been waiting your whole life for. For the thing you’d always been trying to track down.

Maybe you were crazy.

That seemed the most likely outcome.

You sigh heavily, looking at the orange, yellow and red-brown leaves that still clung resolutely to the trees in yellow streetlights of town, watching as they sway slightly in the light breeze of the night.

A warm, large hand covers your own, drawing your gaze to the man beside you - more importantly, it’s drawing you from your thoughts to just focus on him.

You’d known Cas for the last two years and had been almost immediately (and embarrassedly) smitten. Those navy eyes had drawn you in, but his naturally sweet and loving demeanor had sealed your fate. How life had screwed him over multiple times, how he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and how he longed for Heaven and for absolution. A year ago, was when you had finally admitted you were in love with the former garrison captain, the night he had shoved his hand into a werewolf’s chest with a snarl of “No!” stopping the wolf from shoving his claws any farther into your thigh.

Are you alright?

“Humm?” Oh. Yeah. I, uh, I’m alright. A little disappointed, but that’s nothing new regarding this.

You are thinking again.

I’m usually overthinking things, Cas. You drop your gaze to your lap, then glance back out the window, fingers tangling with Castiel’s.

It is a trait that makes you a very good hunter.

And a mess of a human.

A beautiful human. Your eyes go wide, snapping your head back to face Cas.

“You two lovebirds coming?” Dean teases as he put the car in park, throwing his arm over the back and winking at the two of you.

“In a minute,” Cas answers, allowing Dean and Sam ample time to exit before turning to you, his sapphire eyes locked at our entwined hands.

“Y/N.” You stare at his handsome face peering down, his hand clenching and loosening around your own. “So delicate.” You scoff, his eyes looking at you from under his lashes. “So beautiful.”

“Castiel.”

“I love how you say my name.” He confesses in a deep rumble, unable to keep the words from tumbling from his lips. “How soft you say it, like a breeze that flits softly through the leaves. Or how gently you pray it, even in your mind. Or how you’ll send images. Of a cup of hot chocolate when you want me beside you. Of the fall leaves basked in the bright moonlight when you switch to thinking about Sleepy Hollow. Sometimes you send them without thinking. Of the two of us sitting on a blanket by the bridge, where you remember throwing red leaves into the river below when you were five or six with your mom, sipping coffee in the early afternoon when there isn’t any traffic, just past any passerby’s line of sight.” His free hand comes up to cup your face. “I’d never pry into your mind. But I enjoy those moments when your mind wanders to me.” His face eases closer as your heart begins to race. “Gives me hope.” His breath fans over your face. “Am I right to have hope?”

“So right.” You mumble before you press your lips against his, sliding closer. Feeling his lips move against yours, pressing more eagerly before you pull away for air. The blue of his eyes is slowly being swallowed by black as his pupils dilate and your chest heaves. Your hands fist eagerly in his trench coat as you press your lips against his, your tongue teasing against the seam of his lips. Cas lets the hand by your jawline drop, wrapping it tightly around you, pressing you two chest to chest as his mouth moves eagerly against yours. The squeak you made when he hauled you upright turns into a sigh as his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist as you open to him.

Your pushing at his trench coat and suit coat, hungry for the angel.

“Dean.” His deep voice pants out.

“Uh, nope. That’s not my name.”

“I’m aware. I meant to say that Dean will certainly attempt bodily harm to us if we go any further in his car.”

“I think if Dean can have sex with an angel in his car, so can I.” You lean forward, capturing his lips again, cutting him off from any further arguments. He responded just as eagerly, finally releasing your joined hands and dragging your lower body closer to his own, shifting you until you were nearly lying on the bench seat.

“Off.” You mutter against his lips, pulling away for air as his lips kiss down your throat, the roughness of his stubble feeling soooo good against the sensitive skin. Cas shrugs out of his jackets before he settles atop you, his hand is pushing your shirt up, those warm, long fingers brushing over your hip then your stomach skimming higher as his lips return to yours briefly.

“So beautiful. My beautiful huntress.” You whine as he finally squeezes your left breast, his fingers brushing over your nipple. “I love you, Y/N. Your eyes, your soul,” He lets out a little grunt as he ruts his hips against yours, “all of you is wondrous and amazing.” You stop, your hands releasing the shirt you’d been unbuttoning to cup his face as those sapphire eyes stare down at you. The emotions swirling in those fathomless depths sent a thrill through you.

“I love you, Castiel.” As soon as you finish saying his name, his lips are pressed firmly against yours, his hands roaming everywhere suddenly - as if your confession had unleashed something within the angel. You chuckle slightly as you break apart, forgoing dealing with his shirt anymore and going straight for his belt buckle.

“WHOA!” A loud banging sounds on the roof, startling you, making you hide your face in Cas’s shoulder. “Not in Baby!!”

“You said I am a Winchester. All of you have had sex in this car.” You cough to cover up your laugh at what Cas snarked out to Dean.

“No. NO. NO!” Dean calls out loudly, bending down to peer into the car. “Sorry. Not gonna happen, Cas.”

“Fine.” He grits out before snapping his fingers. A soft mattress is at your back, and Cas’s weight comfortably pressing into you.

“Where were we?” You ask, nipping at his bottom lip while your hands undo his fly, fingertips sliding into the back of his pants, under his boxers, your hands digging firmly into his ass. You gasp as he rolls his hips just after.

“Need you now. Waited so long.”

“Fuck. Yes. Yes, Cas. Slow can wait until next time.” He gives a short nod, snapping to remove both your clothes. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed by your miles of stretch marks and the twenty extra pounds you were carrying. This tall, tan, beautiful and eternal being is looking down at you like you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Cas kisses you softly, using his thigh to push your legs wider before settling between them. You kiss at his neck, sucking on the pulse point hard before nipping at his Adam’s apple, loving the groan you pull from him. Cas braces his arms beside your shoulders as you reach down between your bodies, guiding him to your core. You tease yourself first, rubbing his tip through your damp folds and tossing your head back with a moan as his grace appears, vibrating against your breasts - pulling, sucking and buzzing over every inch of skin - before slipping down to your clit. Cas moves forward in your hand before reaching down to bat your hand away, notching himself at your entrance before slowly sinking in.

”Oh.” You gasp out, revealing in the feeling of him stretching you. “Oh, fuck. Cas, Cas, I need you to move. Please.” He starts with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust while his mouth maps out your neck with open-mouthed kisses and a few hard bites. “Yes, angel.” You whimper out, digging your nails into his back, causing him to thrust harder.

“Do that again. Please.” Thank God, he sounds as wrecked as you. You obliged, digging your nails more into his back, closer to his spine now, causing him to buck up into you as you whisper “Angel” over and over again.

You tense then, your eyes glued to the air just past Cas’s shoulder. He freezes, looking over his shoulder.

“What?” You reach forward, still clinging to your angel, your fingers meeting soft, semi-opaque black feathers. You can mostly see through his wings, turning to glance at Castiel who is staring at you with wide cobalt eyes. “You can see my wings?” His deep voice is just above a whisper. A nod is all you can manage. “Have you ever seen them before?” You shake your head, his head dropping to your shoulder as you run your hand firmer against his wings causing Cas to thrust into you again, burying himself deeper in you. “Mine,” Cas growled, resuming thrusting against you. “Knew you were special.” He’s panting the words against your neck as he picks up speed, nearly shoving you up the bed as he lets himself go. “My human.”

“Yes, Castiel. All yours.” It takes a handful of seconds for you to reply, that warmth blossoming in your belly as his grace keeps buzzing over every sensitive spot on your skin, making it hard to remember the English language. “Angel.” You reply, one hand tugging at his dark locks to bring his mouth to yours, hungry to feel those chapped lips so eager against yours. You dissolve into whimpers and pants as he brings you closer to the edge, the motel bed creaking and hitting the wall as he grabbed your thigh, lifting your leg around his waist. “Fuuuuuck,” tears itself from your throat, your hand tightening in his hair as the other dug your nails into the smooth, warm juncture where his wings joined against his back. He snarled against your throat, moving to claim your mouth once more.

“Jesus!” You hear through the wall as a few loud knocks sound against it before a door slams loudly. Cas ignores Dean’s outburst, digging his knees into the mattress to get more leverage as you tightened around him.

“So perfect. So tight. Squeezing around me so good, Y/N.” How he can even string together more than obscenities and your name is beyond you at this point, leaning up to return the favor of marking his neck as you cling harder to Cas, so close to the edge.

“Cas.” You whine, clenching hard around your angel as your vision whites out. “CASTIEL!” He manages a half-dozen sloppy thrusts before he’s coming, chanting your name like a prayer, and his thrusts slowing, riding out both your orgasms.

“I,” He swallows audibly by your ear, pressing a few errant kisses against your throat and jaw. “I love you. Thank you.” He pushes a few pieces of hair away from your sweaty forehead, peering down at you with such affection it makes your chest tight.

“I love you too, Castiel. And, uh, thank you too.” He chuckles at the awkwardness as he moves to kiss you properly, easing out of you before nuzzling against your throat.

“I know this is not in the usual order of things,” Cas begins, snapping to clean away the mess before lying on his back, letting you curl up against him and tightening his arm around you. “But could we, uh, perhaps, maybe -”

“Get coffee?”

“Yes. And perhaps dinner?” You chuckle, tracing random patterns on his chest.

“Cas, you don’t eat.” You prop yourself up on your elbow, smiling down at him. He opened his mouth to answer before your lips press firmly against his in a quick kiss. “Coffee is great. Cuddling and maybe another round or two later?”

“I am very much in agreement with that,” Cas mutters, pulling you down into a deeper kiss. “After you get some sleep, beloved.” You ease back down, head on his chest and curling against him you hum in agreement. You drift off to sleep as Cas strokes his fingers through your hair.

---

“Beloved.” A soft kiss is pressed against your shoulder before a light nip. “I have something planned for us this morning,” Cas mumbles against your skin, his fingers digging into your side lightly.

“Mmmm.” You reply, pressing your face harder into the pillow.

“I have started the shower for you.” His presses a few more kisses down your neck and shoulder. “But you must rise.” You shuffle and wiggle until you are facing Cas, trying to pry your unwilling eyes open some more.

“Are you a morning person? Cause if we’re gonna date, that’s gotta stop. I’m only bringing this up because, while rounds two and three were very, very amazing, I really wanna sleep in, Cas.”

“Thank you for commenting on my sexual prowess. And it is nearly ten thirty in the morning. I believe I have let you sleep in sufficiently.”

“Oh.” You pause, pursing your lips in thought. “Alright. Okay.” You push yourself into a sitting position, holding the sheet to your chest. “You win.” A yawn escapes as you ease away from your lover. You lean down, grabbing his trench coat off the floor for the quick jaunt to the bathroom.

A deep growl emanates from his chest as he presses you against the wall.

“You look very sexy in my coat.”

You chuckle, pressing a few kisses along his jawline, working your way to his lips.

“I think you’re insatiable.” You murmur as his hand runs through your hair, piercing you with those galaxy-riddled blue eyes.

“When it comes to you, yes.” Cas purrs before kissing you hard. “The shower will get cold. Go bathe.”

You do as he asks, exiting from the shower a handful of minutes later, teeth brushed and mostly awake.

Cas is dressed and waiting at the door, an eager smile tugging at his lips.

“Ready?” He asks as you approach, rolling your neck before smiling kindly at him.

“Yeah.” You lean up to brush your lips against his in a barely there kiss, letting him pull you tight against his body as you disappear from the motel room.

---

The sun is a lot brighter than you expect, yellow and orange leaves dancing around your feet as you take in your surroundings.

You’re by the covered bridge, on the “safe” side - the side that once you’re on, the Hessian ghost is through and his powers end - with a large plaid blanket spread out a few feet further down the embankment, just out of sight of any potential passerby.

“I wanted to make your vision, the one that always makes me happiest to see, a reality.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head then leads you forward, letting you drop down to the blanket and get situated before joining you. He elects to sit behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he hands you a large to go cup.

“Does this also count as our coffee date?”

“Yes. I would like to believe it does.” You turn your head to look up at Cas, your head right by his shoulder as he looks down at you with a bright, white smile. His eyes dart over to the cup and you wrinkle your nose slightly, raising your head to look at the white cup.

My Mate, Y/N   Is scrawled is Castiel’s handwriting, and you tear up.

“I, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You turn halfway, planting your hand on his chest and sniffling.

“Good tears, honey. Good tears.” He relaxes under your hand, reaching up to cup your face and bring you in for a deep kiss. “Also, I’ve read enough lore in the Batcave to know seeing your wings without my eyeballs frying is a pretty,” You peck his lips. “Big.” Another kiss. “Deal.” Another. “Feathers.”

“And you're - you are okay with this?”

“Yeah.” You settle against his chest again, sipping your rich hot chocolate with a sigh. “Are you okay with this?”

“Far more than okay. I am glad you’re my mate. I believe ecstatic is the word - it is the word Sam used this morning to describe my demeanor.” A small breeze ruffles your hair, his words soft right by your ear, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

“How’d, uh, how’d that meeting go this morning?”

“Dean mentioned considering silencing sigils. I told him we have all had to endure hearing his lovemaking through the walls of various establishments but that it would not happen again. Sam laughed and Dean shut up.”

“Nice.” You snicker out, turning your head to press a quick kiss to his jaw before you turn back, watching as handfuls of leaves flow down the little river below where you two sat. “This is beyond perfect. Thank you, Castiel.” You take a deep breath, loving the scent of earth, of the slight decay of leaves and the warm scent of the angel you were in love with surrounding you. “I should send that kid a gift basket.”

“For punching him?”