A Room Of One's Own - By NorthernSparrow

All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand. Rating: Explicit Words: 94,118 Chapters: 18/18

Revealed - By Valinde (Valyria)

When a ritual backfires and Dean ends up with wings, they reveal things that he'd much rather keep hidden. Rating: Explicit Words: 10,822 Chapters: 4/4 

deus ex nihilo - By Valinde (Valyria) 

Lost on an uncharted island, Dean Winchester is captured by the local villagers and offered up as a sacrifice to their winged god. Castiel takes one look at Dean and decides he wants him for a mate. Rating: Explicit Words: 7,632 Chapters: 2/2

Me in Honey - By LoversAntiquities

He’s smelled it on Castiel for the past week, felt it in every room of the bunker, the oncoming scent of sex and sweat, roses and spices, clogging his nose until he chokes on it. The cabin outside Hastings is available for as long as he needs, and he heads up the few hours drive to the river, unpacking his things and the extra duffel at the side of the bed. Enough food to last a few days at minimum, extra sheets if need be, and the softest rope he could find. Because it’s not Castiel getting fucked here, no, as much as Dean thought it would be at the beginning. Castiel doesn't crave physical pleasure for himself—it’s for his partner. Rating: Explicit Words: 6,520 Chapters: 1/1

Flock in Heat - By ambersagt

Angel!Dean goes into heat, but no worries, because angel flocks always take care of their omegas. Alpha!Cas especially appreciates that his flock takes care of Dean. Sex and fluff for all. Rating: Explicit Words: 2,011 Chapters: 1/1

Longing To See Your Wings - By Psynatural 

Cas had been surprised that Dean wasn't one of the special humans that could perceive his true form, but Dean hadn't let that limitation really get to him until a chance encounter with a special human who could see Cas’ wings. Dean’s newfound obsession with finding a way to see Cas’ wings has unexpected consequences. Rating: Mature Words: 20,012 Chapters: 8/8

Being Led Home - By someonetoanyone 

The table has gone quiet, and Dean’s already got a bad habit of forgetting that anyone else in the world exists when he’s got Cas’ focus like this. To him, the whole universe narrows down to the two of them, sat across from each other at the kitchen table, Oxford to boot, eye-to-eye. “You’re gonna stay. Sam’s movin’ out, onto bigger and better things, yadda yadda, half-retired family man sorta shit, and you’re gonna stay here with me.” ___ Cas comes back. Rating: Explicit Words: 14,186 Chapters: 1/1

Nothing Equals the Splendor - By RurouniHime

Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says— “Uh. No.” It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on. He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be. “Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it. Part 1 of Splendor Rating: Explicit Words: 7,865 Chapters: 1/1

Trained to Make Your Mark - By RurouniHime

“I just think we should start making some kind of, I don’t know, backup plan because the way things are going—” “Sam.” “Once wasn’t a big deal, this place has held up against a lot, but it’s been two days now—” “Sam.” “—and if there’s much more of this, the walls might literally come down around us, without a grenade launcher.” “Alright.” Dean might actually laugh, uncontrollably. This is the fifth time—fifth! He’s still counting on his fingers! Like a giddy kid!—the fifth time he’s had sex with Cas and this, this… this-ness, the shaking brick and sizzling iron, the shattering windows and the protesting alarms, it was supposed to stop after the first, but it hasn’t even slowed down. Part 2 of Splendor Rating: Mature Words: 6,748 Chapters: 1/1

When We Finally Hit The Ground - By thraced 

  At least my head is clearer now. The last bits of fuzziness from the previous dose of drug have definitely faded by now. I momentarily consider taking another dose to fight the increasing pulsation tearing into my back, but opt against it. I’ve been on a cocktail of morphine, oxycodone and fentanyl for several days now. Withdrawal can heighten the senses and cause feverishness sometimes. Maybe it’s just that.

  Who am I kidding? It’s definitely not ’just that’.

  But I have work to do, so I pick up the breeder and begin to transfer its cells in the modified glove box to test its survival in a nitrogen atmosphere. At first, the atmosphere only contains Adrian’s normal amount of nitrogen. Then, I gradually increase this amount by injecting dinitrogen into the glove box.

  I watch the taumoeba feast on astrophage while the numbers climb.

  0,2%

  0,5%

  0,8%

  1,2%

  The cells stop moving. They’re dead.

  I thump my head onto the glove box.

  In a way, it worked. This strain managed to survive  a much higher concentration of nitrogen than the ones from Adrian. Still, it’s too low. They wouldn’t be able to survive Venus’ 2%, much less to the 8% Rocky needs.

  There is a slight spin to the room when I lean away from the glove’s box support. At first, I wonder whether something collided with the Hail Mary, sending it into another gravity-spin. But no. It’s just another wave of pain climbing up my back, making the whole ship feel unstable under my feet.

  Once it passes, I stumble towards the equipment to prepare the next cell strain. I will have to reduce the amount of my experiments to the minimum. One of the first rules you learn in chemistry is that it’s better to not work at all than to work with half a brain. One slip with a glass full of chemicals happens far too easily. I can remember the damage a single astrophage dosing mistake did on earth. I’m not too eager to repeat it in space.

  I don’t have much of a choice. A new breeder needs to be prepared if I want to obtain my nitrogen-resistant strain without losing all the progress from the past few days. 

  Life waits for no one.

  By the end of the day, the pain has worsened so much I can barely stand. I feel as if there is two balls of fire twisting under the skin of my back. I can’t ignore it any longer.

  I try to bend an arm to touch the source of the pain. I feel lumps. They spark fire when I brush them, pulsing feverishly against my fingers. Fear tightens my throat. What are they?

  I recall my earlier theory of a bone fracture. Did I really break something while gravity went highward?

  I do what I should have done in the morning and go to see Armando. It runs a worrying amount of tests on me, from a CT-scan to blood tests, passing by some ultrasound probing. It excludes almost immediately the broken bone theories. Something in their shape seems to confuse its program, but there is no fracture. Perhaps it could be a form of cancer? Could something from Adrian’s atmosphere have infected the suit?

  In the end, the bot only diagnoses a slight fever and overexertion. I remain suspicious. It seems to be its limitation however, so I leave it at that.

  Armando refuses to give me more pain medication at first— I should have healed enough not to need them anymore— but despite NASA's best attempts, astronauts are still higher than bots in the chain of command. I turn its clock back in time, and it delivers to me its sweet gift of blissfulness.

  Anxiety deprives me of sleep that night. The lumps burn and itch. I can’t settle in my usual position because laying sideways puts a bothersome pressure on them. Instead, I have to lay flat on my stomach instead. 

  The lumps form a permanent pulsing presence that won’t let itself be forgotten. I really hope it’s not cancer. It feels unfair, when I’ve finally gotten a chance to live, to be faced with yet another obstacle that might kill me.

  Even if it is— I hope it’s not too advanced. 

  I can’t die. Not yet.

  Not when Rocky is still unconscious, unable to bring the astrophage’s predator back to his planet. Not when the fate of all Eridians and humanity rest on my shoulders.

  God, I hope Rocky is just unconscious. If he is dead— I don’t know what I’ll do. Even with his fuel, I have no way to reach and communicate with the rest of his planet. So he has to be alive. He has to be.

  It might be the drugs finally taking effect, but eventually I manage to doze off. The pulsing pain of my back fades in the background, and my awareness slips away. I fall into restless dreams of burning suns and flying.

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More chaps on ao3 bcs I’m too lazy to bring them all here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/84278641/chapters/222273691