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Shipping and Other Slightly Inappropriate Madness

@everythingelsegoesherethen / everythingelsegoesherethen.tumblr.com

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Multifandom, nsfw and need to knows My drabbles My writing My meta My positivity My meta responses 'My ask didn't get through!' If you don't read my tags you know nothing Jon Snow shjwwriterscircle
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They’re in the middle of a heated argument when it finally happens.

“You left!” Dean explodes suddenly, all pent-up emotion breaking through and tearing down vulnerable walls he spent years building up. They’re all demolished in the span of two broken words. But he’s too angry, too hurt, and can’t bring himself to care.

So he keeps going. “You left me!” he yells. “Every single time, Cas! I told you in Purgatory that I needed you, and what do you do? You fucking leave me. And then in the crypt it happens all over again. I said I needed you, goddammit, and you left me alone and confused without a word.”

Dean’s moving closer to Cas now, unable to stop the words from coming even if he wanted to. They’ve needed to be said for too long now. “I don’t just say stuff like that, Cas. That was a first for me, and I’ve never needed someone like I needed you—still need you—and I was and am fucking terrified, and both times you just up and left. Jesus, man, you could have at least had the good graces to tell me no before going, or even just saying something. You left me and gave me the biggest rejection letter of all time, so yeah, maybe it’s stupid, but excuse me for being a little bit hurt.”

Dean is inches from Cas and Cas is just staring at him, expression unreadable. The silence that follows just makes Dean all the more pissed. “Well,” he bites out through his teeth. “Are you gonna say something? I mean, you know how I feel about you. Or are you just gonna take off?”

And shit, Cas’ façade is breaking and what’s left standing there is an angel who looks so incredibly lost and… sad.

“Great,” Dean mutters, turning his back and beginning to walk away. The last thing he needs is Cas pitying him. That would just be salt in the wound. “Okay then. Go on. Fly. We can pretend it never happened.”

“I love you,” says Cas, his voice made of gravel.

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