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bing-bang-bingo · 4 years

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- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel

- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”

- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles

- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas

- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”

- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna

- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”

- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell

- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere

- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”

- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean

- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”

- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach

- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”

- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket

- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”

- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay

- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe

- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad

- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself

- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.

- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”

- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*

- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.

- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him

- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)

- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.

- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)

- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.

- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.

- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.

- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.

- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.

- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”

- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead

- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.

- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.

- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.

- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.

- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas

- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.

- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.

- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.

- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself

- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.

- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.

- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept

- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.

- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean

- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye

- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.

- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.

- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”

- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”

- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas

- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue

- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.

- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy

- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain

- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again

- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean

- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”

- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”

- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon

- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”

- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands

- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*

- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark

- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.

- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror

- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.

- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer

- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).

- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*

- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)

- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)

- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas

- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.

- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)

- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.

- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.

- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas

- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”

- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas

- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck

- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.

- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps

- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”

- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.

- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.

- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously

- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues

- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”

- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands

- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”

- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.

- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.

- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken

- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.

- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.

- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”

- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.

- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas

- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble

- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.

- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness

- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”

- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”

- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas

- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING

- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”

- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”

- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.

- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters

- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.

- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.

- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time

- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape

- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”

- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”

- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot

- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.

- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas

- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back

- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”

- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.

- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.

- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.

- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.

- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.

- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself

- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.

- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”

- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back

- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.

- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.

- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.

- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.

- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer

- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.

- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean

- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”

- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”

- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.

- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.

- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.

- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack

- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left

- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”

- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now

- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.

- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.

- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever

- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels

- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”

- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.

- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.

- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)

- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”

- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying

- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*

- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)

- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean

- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay

Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more

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cuntisthereason · 3 years

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(*intrumental music begins*) What did you do to him? where is cas? cas? where? where is he? cas, where are you? (WOAH WOAH CAS) Where did you just send him? we need to find cas. You know what? (c'mon c'mon c'm-) I'm going to call cas? C'mon cas! CAS? Cas, you okay? (hey!) You okay? Cas, you okay? Take it easy. Take it easy. Are you alright? You don't sound okay. This is taking too long. *gunshot* And you're gonna storm in... riiiighhtt .. (I can't find cas! WHAT?) (Yeah he's not answering.) .. now! (You gotta go find him.) Heads up sunshine. (PSHHHHH) (do it.) You blast me away, you'll blast away every angel in this room. I'll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he's hurt. He might live or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall. Roll the dice. (Dean, this is exactly how we screw ourselves.) *hit* (We make the heart choice- *grunt* -instead of the smart choice) *lowers hand* That's what I thought. (*music picks up*) We're not gonna send Lucifer into battle inside Cas. Isn't that suicide? Engaged in what, Cas? Killing you? What if he doesn't make it? Dean, it's a strong vessel. (Cas, what the hell?!) It's not an "it", Sam. It's Cas. And Cas wanted to do this. Even if it kills him. Cas no, you're not strong enough. You could've gotten yourself killed. Why didn't you wait for me? *trunk closes* Well. I didn't get killed. And it worked. And if it didn't? (damn it.) It would've been my problem. (Cas, don't) Well, that's not the way i see it.

(What if the storm ends?) You're some heartless sons of bitches, you know that? (And I don't see you) As a matter of fact, we are. Cas? (As you are now) You heard me, didn't you? You prayed to him? (Ever again) You know, I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. (*gasp*) (The perfect halo) (There's something wrong with you, dean.) Shut up. Shut up. So he's gone. (Of gold hair and lightning) He's dead. (Like ever since we lost cas.) Damn son of a bitch. (You're angry.) Are you angry? (Sets you off against) Why are you angry? No, I-I'm (The planet's last dance) It might take some time, but- (Just for a minute) -i always could. CAS? (*beat fastens*) The Castiel that you knew.. (cas) ..is gone. *hit* (The silver forked sky) I know you think that Cas is gone. It's cause he is. What Cas did- (Lit you up like a star) -i just can't. I don't know why. (That I will follow) You screw over all your friends? It doesn't matter why. Of course it matters. (Now it's found us) So what then? Kill us. (kill us.) (Like I have found you) (Cas c'mon this is not you) Okay this isn't you. It's the spell. (I don't want to run) You want it? Take it. DO IT! (Just overwhelm me) JUST DO IT! But you're gonna have to kill me first.

*grunt* (I did not leave you!) *slash* I was there. Where is the angel? WHERE'S THE ANGEL? I'm not leaving here without you. GO! (You did everything you could.) ~CAS!~ (Yeah. but why do i feel like crap?) Where were you? (What if this storm ends?) I can't turn back now. I can't. It's not too late. (And leaves us nothing) DAMMIT CAS! WE CAN FIX THIS! (Except a memory) You can turn this around, please! You and Bobby are the closest thing that i have to family. (A distant echo) Cas is family! (CAS!) So if im asking you not to do something (I won't pin down) Don't do this. You gotta trust me man. (I've walked unsettled) Did you not TRUST me? Cause you didn't trust me? (Rattle cage after cage) You didn't trust ME? (CAS?) You know, if anybody else, I mean ANYBODY, (Until my blood boils) pulled that kinda crap..(Cas?) ..I would stab them in their neck on principle.

(I want to see you) I know you think I'm pissed at you. You're leaving? You think he blew town? Sounds like him. (As you are now) It doesn't matter. Don't make me lose you too. Whatever you did, okay we'll work it out. (Every single day) We'll figure it out like we always have. (That I am living) I think I'm dying. NEVER DO THAT AGAIN. No. (Painted in flames) Cas is never coming back. No more talk. We have spent enough time on him. (All peeling thunder) See, I don't trust angels. And yet, you haven't warded this place against us. (Be the lightning in me) I don't know Dean. If he's so sketchy, then why were you praying to him? (That strikes relentless) You're hoping Castiel will return to you.

*glass shatters* *grunt* *hit* *hit* AARGH who's asking *glass shatters* Tell me where Castiel is. *grunt* Bite me. *punch* This isn't you. *punch* *punch* *punch* It's called the mark of cain for a reason! I get this high and i need to kill. (You'd kill the angel, castiel. Now, that one!) *gunshot* He's gone. He's gone, dean. Sam he's gone. (That i suspect would hurt something awful.) I prayed to you, Cas! Every night! I'm not good luck dean. Sorry but I'd rather have you. cursed or not. (CAS? Cas. CAS!) We hunt Lucifer and save cas. (CAS! "CAS!") I GOT YOU! HOLD ON! Now I'm begging you for once, look out for yourself. Dean, we'll get him back. We'll find cas okay? He's stronger than he looks. We will. We just gotta keep grinding. Where's the angel. *aargh* I admire your loyalty. [I'd have died for you.] [Come on you coward.] I need you. I need you. I only wish he felt the same way. I hope for your sake this is the last u see me.

We can't save cas if we're stuck in some hospital! If he wants to be saved- He does. (What if the storm ends?) Even if he didn't know it yet. (And I don't see you) I feel like i keep seeing him. Damn, it's good to see you. (As you are now) Don't ever change. (Ever again) Goodbye. It may be some time before we see one another again. (The perfect halo) Hey. (Of gold hair and lightning) Hey! Is that you? Yeah. (Sets you off against) If there's one thing I've learned in all my years on the road.. (The planets last dance) ..it's when somebody's pining for somebody else. (Just for a minute) What are you gonna do? Everybody leaves you dean. You noticed? (The silver-forked sky) It's better i stay away. Well, nice seeing you anyway. (Lifts you up like a star) You really suck at goodbyes, you know that? (That I will follow) Don't try and hide it now. [Please man i need you here] (But now it's found us) Follow your heart. You do that.. (Like I have found you) [Where the hell are you, man?] ..all the rest just figures itself out. (I don't wanna run) We're going home. (Just overwhelm me)

Let's go find that idiot and bring him home. Let's go home. I'm glad you're here man. Thank you for everything. We're family. And we don't leave family behind. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how hard it gets. Because you never give up on family. Ever.

#spn #supernatural #op #im not well yes thank you for asking

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myaimistrue · 3 years

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del myaimistrue’s underrated destiel fic recs part 2!

as with part 1, these are all fics i’m a big fan of that aren’t as popular or well known. they all have less than 10k hits on ao3 OR were published pre-2015 OR both. hope you like them!!! leave a comment for the author if you did :)

list under the cut, organized by word count!

in earth, and sky, and sea by charcoalcas

1.6k. on easter morning, cas tells dean he had a crush on jesus. very funny and very sweet and very domestic. featuring some jesus/dean comparisons!

Meant to Be Near Me by Sass_Master

1.9k proposal/marriage fic. sweet and wildly in-character. this is a fic i read sometimes when i’m bummed out because it always makes me smile.

absolvere by microcomets

2k that takes place after the attack dog spell and dean’s refusal to be healed in 11x03. so tender and so wonderfully written. yes perhaps i did tear up at the image of cas washing dean’s feet. don’t worry you will too.

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones

2.7k set during season 6. cas goes to see dean to help with a hunt in the midst of the civil war. they’re in a kinda sorta relationship and it’s soooooooo interesting. i’ve decided the author is a certified cas-understander because this is his pov and i think they totally nail it. beautifully written and absolutely worth the read.

Scenes with a Shark (Or: Hello, Blåhaj) by aeli_kindara

3.3k established relationship fic. dean and cas have an stuffed shark and visit ikea! super cute and offers up an alternate look at the way cas might handle the empty deal. if you can’t tell i love an established relationship fic, and this is a great one.

Ain’t Ever Gonna Part by ellispark

MIXTAPE FIC!!! 4k retrospective looking at previous people dean’s loved with sprinkling of moments from season 12 and 13. great dean character study with such a perfect final scene.

Things that were, things that are by dreamline

6.8k. very dean-centric. sam finds out that dean engaged in sex work when they were both children, which brings up a lot of old trauma for them both. it’s a super heavy topic and the author handles it with respect and no exploitation or glorification. the dean and sam conversation is amazing and the scene with dean and cas at the end is so tender. dean studies fic for sure.

Deprived of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod

9k words. a case fic that features extremely touch-starved dean and cas being very gentle with him. such an intimate look at their relationship, all cozy and a little sad and very very sweet.

all my goodness is gone with you now [15x09 coda] by emmbrancsxx0

fics that make you a shell of your former self. like i’m going to be honest i had to go sit outside in the sunshine after reading this because it absolutely DEVASTATED me. it’s 9.9k of the universe we see in 15x09 the trap in which cas has the mark of cain. featuring incredible character work and dialogue that was so painfully in-character. you will probably cry but it will definitely be worth it.

The Art of Giving by cenotaphy

i truly love a fic in which dean is a bit of an asshole because he has no idea how to be in a relationship--this 9.9k story definitely fits within that category. you’re going to be frustrated with him, but you’re also going to love all of the interactions with him and cas because they are super well-written and in-character. and don’t worry, it has a very sweet ending!

Good Hands by aileenrose

13.2k. first of all, i highly recommend everything by this author--they write my favorite aus EVER. this specifically is one of my favorites. cas owns a b&b and dean is a drifter/handyman who stops in and ends up staying to help make repairs. the atmosphere is so good, and the story is trope-y in the best way.

We Both Kinda Liked It by elizajane

one of my new all-time faves. 13.5k that dives into rhonda hurley and dean’s thing for panties with a lot of cas being lovely and supportive. there’s a lot of ideas out there about who rhonda was and how dean knew her and the version of her in this fic is now my personal headcanon. if you love dean being loved, then you will adore this fic.

Death Rattles by emmbrancsxx0

i normally don’t read horror fic much but this one is soooo good and honestly frightening. 30.1k established relationship deancas with a side of casefic--especially recommended for my cas fans. you’re going to think you know what’s going on like six times and each time you’ll be wrong. and that ending...hoo boy!

Light in the Dark by nurfherder

110k. this is SUCH a story. i read it kind of slowly over a couple weeks so i don’t know how it feels if you binge it, but i really enjoyed it! it’s an au in which dean inherits the family apple orchard after john dies and cas is a businessman who buys it from him. they work together to make a profit and turn the place around but it is…. SO MUCH more than that. it gets pretty heavy so heed the tags but god it’s a great read. the emotion is so realistic and so well done. highly recommended if you’re looking for something longer.

#del's fic recs #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec #spn fic rec

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haus-seeblick · 3 years

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Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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curlynerd · 3 years

Text

Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #userstarry #deanwinchesteradjacent #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #katie writes things #long post

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hozier-mp3 · 2 years

Text

when i awoke, dear - An Anniversary Fic based off of You Are My Sunshine

1.4k Words - Rated Teen - Here on AO3

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Dean’s days used to begin with darkness. With screams, or silent tears. Now, of course, living in a bunker makes natural sunlight hard to wake up to, but when Cas moved into Dean’s room, he brought his sun lamp. That fixed everything. The darkness washed away with Cas’ lamp, and the tears wiped away with Cas’ gentle hand.

This morning, their room begins to light up around 7am, but Dean and Cas are already awake, tangled into each other. They trade lazy kisses and laughter as gentle as the touches that accompany.

“Happy anniversary,” Cas whispers into Dean’s hair, and Dean pulls Cas closer. They fall asleep again just before the lamp hits full brightness, and they sleep well into the morning.

When Dean does wake up, it’s to Cas sitting beside him with a plate of blackened toast and soggy pancakes. Dean’s chest aches at the sight, and he smiles, taking the cup of coffee Cas had been sipping from.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says, smiling into Cas’ mug as he drinks out of it.

“You’re welcome, darling,” Cas grins, unfazed and seemingly unsurprised by this turn of events. He does take the mug out of Dean’s hands though, tackling Dean down and laying sideways on the bed with him.

Dean’s legs hang off the side of the bed, and Cas straddles his waist, grinning and running a hand through Dean’s hair. He leans in close, just breathing for a moment, before shifting so his lips just barely brushed Dean’s ear. “We should get out of bed,” Cas whispers, kissing the spot in front of Dean’s ear. “It’s almost noon.”

“We can do what we want,” Dean breathes out, running his hands up and down the fronts of Cas’ thighs. “It’s our day, baby,” he laughs lightly, turning his head to look at Cas.

His husband.

Yeah, he can do this for the rest of his life.

After another thirty-ish minutes of more teenage-esque making out (and giddy laughter when it did, indeed, become noon,) they do make their way to the “living room” of the bunker. By living room, of course, Dean means the war room.

Sam groans (like he always does) when Dean plops down into Cas’ lap, but Dean points a pen threateningly at his little brother. “Hey, watch it. You can do this in important historical rooms with your wife on your day, but today’s ours.”

Cas kinda just grins at Sam in lieu of defending his husband, and honestly, that deserves another kiss.

And Dean is nothing if not an avid fan of providing Cas with whatever he needs and/or deserves.

Sam leaves. Dean knows Sam doesn’t want to be called out on the little smile, and Dean offers mercy. Just this once.

Other people come and go. Claire walks by with a disgusted groan and a, “I knew I shouldn’t have decided to spend Valentine’s here.” Kaia follows close behind with a grin and a wave at the pair, who are at that moment talking about 1 Year Anniversary bands while looking at their now chipped and scratched wedding bands. When they’re researching heavy duty rings, Jack and Eileen walk through, signing to each other excitedly about many things, including but not limited to: Dean and Cas. The Wedding(s) the year before. The Anniversaries. All that those particular topics entail.

At around 2, Cas asks Dean to get up so he can leave. Which absolutely never happens, and Dean should know. He’s the one that goes around bragging about being married to an Angel on the daily. Perks include: Stamina, Strength, Never Sleeping, and lacking the need to ditch Dean for something as inconsequential as a bathroom break.

That being said, Dean pouts until Cas gets back, grabbing Dean by the hand and tugging him off to the Deancave(™).

When Cas sits Dean down in one of the recliners and kneels at his feet, Dean suddenly has three very conflicting thoughts going off in his head at the same time.

Option A) Dean is about to get the best blowjob of his life. He has no regrets about this train of thought.

Option B) Cas walks to have a talk. Just a genuine serious talk that they needed privacy for.

Ya know, normal marital things. Dean’s pleased.

It, of course, is neither of these things. Cas pulls out a small box, wrapped neatly in newspaper and tied up with a little bow, it’s simple, and just the sight of it, of Cas looking so shy and sweet at him over it, just reminds him why people stay married.

“I just wanted to give this to you in here. Where you first… anyways, here.” Cas says, not helping at all. Either way, they share a smile, silent and gentle, before Dean takes the present from Cas. Inside the box is a singular mixtape. It’s held in place by two pieces of scotch tape. Above it, the words, “FOR YOU” in Cas’ pretty, loopy handwriting. Below it, “TO KEEP”.

“Oh Cas,” Dean whispers, but he doesn’t say what he wants to. He doesn’t know why, he just can’t. Instead, he looks at Cas, and pulls him in close. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice scratchy and worn like he’s been shouting all day. Maybe he has, just in his mind.

“I heard the traditional gift is paper, and I know this isn’t paper in its usual form, but-” Cas tries, but Dean just scoops him up into a hug. Cas sits in Dean’s lap now, and Dean pulls in long, deep breaths from where he is buried in the crook of Cas’ neck. He tries to smell Cas, to breathe him in.

They spend hours there, Dean is sure of it, but next thing he knows they’re eating dinner together. All of them, with music playing in the background. Rowena even showed for dinner and while Dean will never admit it, he’s happy so see her along with the rest of them.

Dean and Cas both get teased and they make their own share of jokes as well. (A few of which, as always, make Sam and/or Claire spit out their food and “Gross, guys ” their way through the rest of dinner.)

The laughter continues when Cas drags Dean away, his generally stoic expression cracked by a grin and the wiggling of eyebrows (if only to receive a similar reaction as above). They make their way down long, twisting hallways, and suddenly there’s a pang in Dean’s chest as he looks around. A long scratch on the wall, an incessant ringing in his ears and the feeling of a crushed heart. Literally.

He shoves it away.

He shoves it away, but suddenly, Dean isn’t giggling (yes, giggling) into Cas’ shoulder. Suddenly, they’re not holding hands.

Suddenly, the world twists, and Cas is crying. Cas is crying, and all Dean can think is, this is my fault. Cas is smiling, and Dean is screaming, and he’s not heard. He’s never heard. There are tears running down Dean’s cheeks, and his face is dry. He’s holding his breath as he speaks to Cas, and wonders deep in the back of his mind why his voice isn’t scratchy from screaming.

Cas’ hand is burning into Dean’s shoulder, and a false memory singes the edges of Dean’s mind. Vows. An altar. A kiss, gentle yet passionate in front of everyone they care about.

The memory fades as quickly as it appeared, and Dean knows what’s next.

No! Please, Cas, no. He screams and he begs and he pleads and nothing comes out.

Move! Do something! Anything ! Please! He begs himself, but his arms don’t wrap around Cas like he wants them to. He doesn’t force Cas’ lips silent with his own. He just stands there, screaming and sobbing in the depths of his mind as the man he’d tried to call husband squeezes his shoulder and says,

“I love you.”

Dean’s still screaming, still crying, still begging for Cas to stop, to come back, to take it back, to go back in time, to fix this. He’s still aching to see lights shattering in a barn in the middle of nowhere. He’s still hoping for flickering stars and a first dance beneath them. He’s still urging his body to move as he watches the man he loves be carried away by the darkness.

That’s when Dean wakes up, screaming into the shadows of his bedroom.

His screams descend into sobs, wracking his entire body, and suddenly he feels much too small in his cold, empty bed.

#Fine……….. I made a whole post #Anyways #Destiel Fic #this shit angsty #Fanfiction #Destiel fanfiction #destiel #✌️#Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel

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occult-castiel · 4 years

Text

The Same Page

This is my @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @eclypseaf!!! The request was open, but bonus points for Miracle being present. So I wrote some post empty rescue fic!

This one honestly gave me a really hard time and I have no idea why. I hope you like it and have has an awesome christmas!

[Ao3 Link]

The portal spits them out in the dungeon.

Dean stumbles out first, a half step ahead of Cas. Human, malleable, and very much alive with one of the little dude's arms draped over Dean's shoulder.

Cas stumbles forward. Dean shoots an arm out in front of him, places a hand firmly against his chest. He maneuvers his other arms under his trenchcoat, grips his side firm.

His skins almost cool to the touch — much too cold to be safe. Not for a human, especially a brand new one.

And what if he's sick? Or gets sick and can't get better? Without his grace, there's a whole new set of worries. A bad flu that gets worse until he's gone, a hunt going wrong, fucking cancer. Heart disease kills pretty much everyone, doesn't it?

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gentle thud of Cas' heart against his palm.

The last eight months haven't been easy. Not between the alcohol Sam eventually cut him off from, and the hunts getting sparse, and Jack being terrifying and gone until he wasn't.

Cas lulls his head to the side. His inky heart sticks to his forehead, and his blueberry-sweet eyes are unfocused but still manage to catch Dean's.

It's achingly familiar, and he smiles easy. "Hey there, sunshine."

Cas pinches his brows together as his head swims to stay upright. He slurs through some half-baked, nonsense question about coral reef bleaching, and Dean's so relieved he laughs.

Cas smiles at the sound, dazed and feather-light, but the joy is unmistakable.

It's the best thing Dean's ever seen. Fuck, he missed him. Missed him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Cas winces — what little help he was giving Dean in holding him up falls. He makes up the difference quick. Weak fingers curl around Dean's wrist.

"Sorry —"

"S'okay. Gonna —" he swallows hard. Tries to shove away the distinct pin-prick in his tear ducts that always means he needs to man the hell up. "Gonna get you to a bed, okay?"

Cas grunts, a pitiful noise that's mostly air and entirely feeble. "Tired."

"Rest then. It ain't far. I gotcha, buddy."

When he nods, his hair brushes Dean's neck.

It's not well thought out. The lack of work and overload of carbs haven't done Dean's muscles any favors. His joints creak and protest every step, but his room isn't far, and he'd be damned before he let's Cas feel like he has to do anything alone this time.

Miracle hops off the bed the moment the door opens.

Dean lays Cas on top of the bunched up blanket. Once he's down, Dean slowly works the trencoast and suit jacket off, his hands careful as they trail across the thin cotton of his shirt.

Cas shivers, and Dean wrestles to tug the blanket out from under him, Miracle nuzzling the side of his leg the whole time.

She's probably hungry. Or just wants attention. He hasn't exactly been available the last couple weeks, too busy with his nose in piles of research. But it all payed off.

Cas grimaces in his sleep, and it twists the cords in Dean's chest. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingers across the sweat-stained hair stuck to his skin, gently pushing it to the side.

He'd said it once, not more than a month ago, in the darkness of his room, Miracle tucked as close as he could get her.

He said he loved me, and I — I didn't say it back. But I do. God I do.

Dean trails his hand from his forehead to the flushed pillow of his cheeks. The other knuckles roughly at his eyes and comes back wet.

He has no god damn idea what he wouldve done without Miracle to talk to. Cause he could never get it out to Sam. Not those last moments. Not what Cas really means to him. Always too close to an edge of something larger than any apocalypse they've ever dealt with.

He traces down low enough to brush across Cas' wrist, the pained look still on his face.

Dean swallows, his heart hammers hard in his throat. Timid even though the guy is unconscious, Dean grabs his hand.

His mind blanks. Turns to complete static — a jumble of half-formed thoughts about every reason he ever told himself not to.

He's an angel. The worlds ending. Always ending. He doesn't feel that way. Can't, the equipment for it's not there. It's why he leaves, isn't it? And what the fuck could ever hope to start when it's all always falling apart? When they could fall apart.

Everyone leaves.

A flash of cold prickles down his back, and he tries to takes a deep breath. It goes down ragged. There was something he read once, about picking out a sense.

Cas' breath, slow and steady. The clink of Mircale's claws on the floor. A muted buzz from the florescent lights in the hall.

He breaths again, a little easier. His fingers curls into Cas' palm, and his finger twitch against Dean in response. The dent in his brows relax, his jaw goes slack.

"S'okay Cas." He squeezes. "Just... be okay."

When his phone rings, dumped and forgotten on the other side of the room, he isn't quite sure how to let go. Like the ligaments in his hand have cemented in place, forgotten the muscle memory to make the movements happen.

When the second call comes through, Cas mumbles something. Dean's shoulder slack, and he pulls his hands back, clammy and with a slight tremor.

It's Sam. There's a small tug of guilt — he should've called him the moment he put Cas down. He knows he would've been worried sick if Sam was the one that had to go.

Sam's relieved too, promises to buy stuff for dinner on his way back from where Dean went in the Empty about fifty miles out. And he must hear something in his voice, because he stresses to go watch a movie or something and let Cas sleep it off.

Of course he's right. They knew Cas would be out cold. But leaving the room is still hard, and he lingers in the doorway until he gets a good look at Miracle's mess of tangled fur.

He hasn't brushed her hair, since that's practically what the fur is, in weeks.

"C'mon girl."

He grabs the brush from the bedside table, casts on last look at Cas, and takes Miracle to the TV room.

She hops on the couch next to him, tail thumping with excitement.

"You wanna get pretty to meet Cas later?"

She nuzzles his hand, sticks her nose against the brush, and a little bit of the stress from today lightens up.

He flips on some netflix show about baking food, and talks to Miracle as he starts in on her snout.

It's ritualistic to touch on whatevers going on with her, at this point.

As her fur smooths, he tells her about the Empty. Its piss-poor lighting, the mind boggling way directions work, how it has this awful burnt-licorice and gasoline stench clung to the nothingness of its everything.

It kinda makes his head hurt.

Almost two full episodes in, he has all her fur neat and tidy, and his little monologue has circled back to Cas. She'd know a lot about him if she could talk.

"It's hard to believe he's really back. And — and maybe it'll be good. We could, I dunno, get you a yard?" He nods, smiles. "Yeah, I bet your spoiled ass would like that. The bunker ain't a place for pets."

Miracle leaps from the couch, and someone clears their throat from the door.

Cas stands in the doorway, hunched in on himself. Dark strands of hair twist up in random directions, and the casual clothes Dean left him fit snugly.

He looks... comfortable. Like he slipped into humanity ages ago, not this afternoon.

"Cas."

He tilts his lips up, tight and sheepish. "I see you have a dog now."

"Yeah. Miracle. She uh — she helped me." He motions vaguely to his head. "Might not be batting a hundred up here if not for her."

Cas glances down at her, and the tense smile softens. "I'm very grateful then."

Almost reverent, he scratches the side of her ear.

Dean shakes his head. Blinks. Two things he never thought he'd see side by side mixed with the insanity of the day make none of this seem real.

Deep breath.

"She can — she can be there for you too," Dean says. "If you need it. Dogs are great listeners. Even the Madonna types like this one."

Cas gives a contemplative hum. "They are both blonde."

He puffs a breath of air. It's easy to forget Cas actually knows what he's talking about now, sometimes. Even if he does still miss the point by a mile.

"It was your turn."

Cas raises an eyebrow.

"To, uh, pick a movie." He motions to the seat next to him. "If you want."

Cas runs his bottom lip between his teeth and doesn't look at Dean. Doesn't say anything either. Just nods, walks over, and sinks into the couch.

It's a respectable distance. Close enough Dean would be able to sense him, far enough away they won't touch.

Miracle curls up on the other side of Cas, head flopped on his lap, right next to his balled up hands.

"Is it over?" His voice is small.

Dean doesn't have to ask. "Chuck isn't aproblem anymore." Cas sighs, slinks down bonelessly into the cushions. "We figured it out, took his powers. Jack's fixing up Heaven with it. Says he's gunna do that, find a way to put Amara back together, and then come home."

"Good. I don't think I'm up to fighting standards." He rolls his head to the side. They're close enough Dean can make out each muscle in his neck when he swallows. "You didn't have to save me, Dean. I'd — made peace with that fate."

It's bullshit. It's bullshit and Cas has to know it. He almost tells him a much, but if he can't have that talk now, then he never will.

He licks his lips. It doesn't help the dryness.

"Did you mean it?"

It's a dumb question, but one he needs answered.

Cas doesn't miss a beat. "That and more." The serenity in his words is endearing as it is cutting when he adds, "But we don't have to address it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

It's Dean's turn to melt with relief. "Good — that's good."

Cas winces. "I understand if you'd like some space —"

He starts to stand up, and panic seizes Dean's chest like a vice grip. He grabs his wrist and Cas freezes.

"No! God no. Cas, it — it wasn't supposed to happen like that."

He looks confused, before some amount of understanding smoothes out some of the worried lines in his face. His eyes flick down to Dean's mouth for an instant. "How was it supposed to happen, then?"

"I thought, maybe on a hunt? Or — I don't know. Just... " some place I could say it back.

Its not good enough, saying it without saying it. Cas gave a speech. He saved Dean's life, saved the god damn world. All without knowing.

He shakes his head. Starts again. He had enough practice between thoughts he couldn't shove away and late night pet-therapy. "I thought you knew. Hell, I've been scared everyone knows. And if they did, you did too, right?"

"Subtly isn't always my strongest suit."

He laughs, and it's almost on the wrong side of sane. "Don't I know it."

He can do direct.

Slow enough that Cas has time to pull back, he runs his hand up his arm, cradles it against the back of Cas' neck. He leans across the small distance and kisses him.

It's clumsy and unsure, and Cas places a skittish hand on Dean's side like he's not sure what he's allowed to have even now, but their lips mesh together in a way that feels better than anything he can remember.

When they part, he's not sure either one of them are breathing. And he can't look at Cas, not when he says it. Not yet. So he presses their foreheads together, keeps his eyes fully lidded.

"I don't know how you could think you aren't worth saving. You — you're it for me."

"Dean —"

He shakes his head, and the tips of their noses brush. "I love you more than I know what to do with. You know that right?"

Bewildered, Cas says, "I didn't."

"Yean, well. Now you do."

He scoots back in place, flushed firm against the cushion. Their hands tangle together, and their knees are touching, and it's too much and not enough. But mostly not enough. Dean dares a glance over. Cas is staring at their hands, a pleased smile on his face.

And they're on the same page.

"I think you said something about a yard when I walked in?"

Instead of answering he says, "We should retire. I'm too old for this shit."

"Entirely?"

Dean shrugs. "A hunt here and there wouldn't hurt I guess."

"We'll talk about it later." He reaches over him, grabs the remote. "I think you said it was my turn?"

Dean grins, full and toothy. "Yeah, just no more romcoms, dude. I can only take so many."

Cas nods, curt and serious. "Of course."

He does anyway, and it's the best shitty movie Dean's ever seen.

#destiel secret santa #sorry this is being posted so late in the day!!!#my internets broken at the moment so it was very difficult to get it up #and i also couldnt run it through any spelling/grammer checkers #hopefully theres nothing atrociously wrong with it #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic

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theyscreamjade · 3 years

Text

Time For A Break

It’s a shame that I don’t have as much Denki smut, He’s a kinky guy!

Disclaimer: NSFW 18+! (Only!)

“Come on, Sero! You’re slacking man!” Denki yelled onto his headset while you laid behind him on his large futon.

Apart of you started to regret the fact he wasted his money on the newest PS5 to only use his days off by playing with his boys instead of spending time with you. You rolled your eyes, continuing to scroll through Instagram while the day became late. It was nearing three in the afternoon, so much for lunch.

You sat your phone down and grabbed one of the futon’s pillows. You tossed it towards your sparky boy as it bounced off his back. “Yes, Buzzy?” He asked even though he didn’t pause or look at you. You pulled yourself up from your laying position on the couch, grabbing his stuffed Pikachu. You threw it towards him which bounced off his head this time.

He finally paused the game and turned his gaming chair towards you, smiling softly. “That kinda hurt, Sunshine Nugget. One-second guys”. He said, lifting the mic as he muted himself. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “You promised we’d spend time with each other!” You whined, crossing your arms.

“I know, I kept it. I’m just gonna wrap this up fast and I’m all yours!” He said, frowning a bit. “You said that an hour ago!” You retorted quickly.

“I’m almost done, I pinky promise.” He said, standing up and walking over to you. He wrapped his large pinky around yours before kissing your nose with an adorable smile.

It was almost a second and he was back on the game, shooting people on the system while talking to his friends. You let out a soft sigh and began to lay back on the couch before an invisible lightbulb flashed in your head, erupting an idea.

You stood to your feet, suddenly turning the large lights off before turning his LED lights on as the colors faded into another. You grabbed the pillow you threw towards him and placed it on the ground. He opened his legs a bit, expecting you to sit between like always. You tend to sit with him to see the game in his view while cheering him on or warning him about his friend's secret attacks.

You eased onto your knees as he stayed completely focused on the game. “Sero! You’re letting Bakugo get all the weapons we need! Stay foc-cus!” He jumped, looking down at you with his joggers in your hands. He quickly slapped the mic away from his mouth and leaned to you. “What’s are you doing?” He asked as your fingers pulled the mic back down, with a small smirk. “Just keep playing, they’ll never notice.” You instructed, finally getting them down.

He let out a shaky sigh before trying to focus on the game, listening to Bakugo’s laughing and orders to Kirishima. His breathing hitched when your tongue grazed on his boxers, wetting the fabric over the hardening bulge that hide underneath. “S-Shit..” he whispered biting his lip as he shifted a bit, giving you more access.

“Denki?! Yo! I need you, Bakugo’s snipping my ass! You’re supposed to be protecting me!” Sero yelled through the headset. “I-I got you!” He retorted, letting a soft gasp from your lips wrapping around his tip. With his boxers around his ankles like his joggers, you had a full advantage over him. Your tongue swirled around his sensitive tip while easing him a bit more into your warm palace.

You tapped his thigh, catching his attention while you stuck your tongue out. You pulled your head away, creating such a cute and lewd face that he couldn’t even resist. Without hesitation, you began to give him exactly what he was anticipating. Each soft gag or slurp echoed onto the mic, which was originally ignored before they noticed Denki’s lack of movement and inability to move his character anymore.

“F-Fuck, Y/N.” He whispered, watching you while you deep throated him. The remote was placed aside while his hand gripped your hair while you bobbed. You could taste the pre-cum on his tip, begging for an exit before you suddenly stopped. You wiped your mouth and stood to your feet, holding your hands up and snapping the lights back on. “Hav Fun, babe!” You said, happily as he looked towards you as if he was making sure if you were serious.

“Babe! Come on, you ca-“

His words were silenced by your underwear being thrown towards him, giving him a clear sign before he smirked before he grabbed the remote, quickly turning the game off. His hands gripped the headphones as his mind began to wonder of all the positions he should have you in before telling his confused friends.

“I’ve gotta go, guys”

#my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #i hope you like this #bnha denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki smut

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

dedicated to the very talented @xojo. love you, and your blog!!

***

“Guys.” Sam says, passively frowning at his beer. “We need to get back.” He pauses, contemplating, and then as if he reached a decision, promptly finishes off his mug. “While I can still drive.”

Dean squints and looks around himself.

The club is insanely crowded.

And Cas is blurry and drunk, with his arm hooked around Dean’s waist - and it doesn’t feel like he’s looking to let go soon, so it’s perfect. Dean can feel his warmth through all the layers in between; Cas runs hot, leans heavy, and is currently pressed up against Dean bodily, and Dean far from minds it.

(They’re celebrating, and it sure feels like it.)

“Well, you’re drivin’, Sammy.” Dean throws the keys at him, terribly - so out of it, that Sam actually has to put in an effort to catch them. “Let’s get outta here.” He adds, to the trenchcoated man wrapped around him - who doesn’t really take notice.

“I literally just said that.” Sam returns, the soberest of the three, and leads the way to the exit.

Dean follows, keeping track of only his tall, hairy head above the crowd, because anything else, and they’d have gotten lost - while Cas hitches a ride, holding on like he absolutely must.

Dean loves it.

Drunk Cas is pretty much everything Dean had no idea he wants Cas to be - well, sometimes, anyways.

It’s not easy to get him floored, but Jesus, is it worth it. In goes an unbelievable amount of alcohol, and out comes a wonder. Flirty, grumpy, clingy. It’s glorious.

“Get in the back with him.” Sam tells him when they get to the car, and well, Dean was going to do that anyways - because there’s like six to one odds that Cas falls asleep within five minutes, and Dean kinda (really) likes it when he does it on his shoulder.

“And you take care of Baby.”

He yells at Sam, force of habit, as he piles Cas in the backseat, nudging at him to scoot - and the trenchcoat getting in the way, as always.

“I’m your -” Cas starts, jolting awake, and wriggling about two inches further on the seat disgruntledly. It’s ridiculous, but Dean squeezes fit - mostly on the bulky coat than leather - immediately greeted by Cas leaning into his space. One hand goes around his shoulder, the other turns his chin. “I’m your baby.” He growls, in a monotone.

It’s fucking adorable.

“Cas, she’s always been Baby.” Dean points out, face flushing with color. “You’re my babe.”

“Babe.” Cas repeats, and holy shit, that’s not even just cute. That’s the turning-Dean-on-way-too-much-to-be-in-the-same-car-as-his-brother territory.

“Sounds good?” Dean mutters, shifting. Their faces are way too close to not be kissing right now, and really, Dean won’t mind - but his husband has other plans.

“What else am I?” Cas asks, gravel and cigarettes and a completely wrong octave.

“Uh.” Dean pauses. “Sweetheart. Honey - Huckleberry?” Cas nods, as if he agrees - as if he’s not satisfied yet. Dean looks up at the root, thinking. “Sunshine, I guess. Angel, sometimes. Sugar, that too. In the mornings.”

Cas hums appreciatively.

“And then there’s the times you’re being adorable on purpose, pretending you don't get references? Bang, baby in a trenchcoat. And how you act like you’re basically capable of getting high on hugs, so huggybear? There’s that. There’s Happy Meal, and you know, hot wings. Darling.”

He keeps going, easily drunk enough to not notice he’s rambling. All the way to the end.

“ - so that’s all, I guess.” Dean grins, eyes downcast, shy. “Oh, and you’re hubby sometimes, when I know you’re not listening.”

“He’s not listening.” Sam quips, and Dean scrambles to his senses, about to flip him a bird before he realizes he’s actually got Cas slumped over his side.

Face in his neck, nose in his flannel, hair tickling Dean’s chin.

“But hey, I was.” Sam adds, smirking pointedly at the rearview mirror,and Dean reddens furiously.

“Shut your face.”

“Sure.”

“And keep your eyes on the road.”

“I’ve been driving twenty years now, jerk.” Sam rolls his eyes, and Dean catches the bitchface in even his voice. “But this is the first time I’ve heard the words ‘huggy bear’ come out of your mouth.”

“I -” Dean huffs, too drunk to think of comebacks. “Bitch.”

Sam laughs. “Whatever, Cas’s hubby.”

And Dean has absolutely nothing to say to that, because Cas’s dorky little ‘what else am I’ cameo had pretty much given Sam the edge in all their future fights ever.

But as long as he’s got his ridiculously dressed husband snoring quietly in his arms, he lets himself believe he’ll make it through.

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bourbonbees · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 6- Cemetery Boys

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34336042

Rating- G Jack POV

Jack has discovered there are a great deal of things that he loves about being human, he loves eating cake, taking his dog for walks, and swimming, but there’s nothing he loves more than his family. His family is not conventional, he’s got three dads, one of which is an angel, but all of them love him unconditionally. It’s rocky at first with Dean but after some quality time spent listening to Zep and going fishing together, the grumpy hunter warms up to him. It also doesn’t hurt that Jack’s first dad, Castiel, is also Dean’s partner and therefore holds a lot of sway over him, whether he likes it or not. Sam, his third dad was the best! He’s the one that establishes family movie night, Jack’s favorite night of the week!

Sam lets Jack pick the movies pretty much every week, much to Dean’s dismay. This week Jack chooses Ghostbusters as his pick. It’s great, he especially loves the jokes and the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man. He isn’t sure where the writers did their research for the movie though, his experiences with ghosts contain a lot less whimsy and a lot more salting and burning. The movie is just wrapping up when it hits him, they don’t have a name, every great team of heroes has a name.

“Hey, why don’t we have a name?” Jack poses the question, looking to Dean for a response.

“Kid, how much candy have you had? Are you sugar crashing? Remember, me Dean, you Jack, that annoying guy over there, Sam, this adorable ray of sunshine, Castiel.” Dean is concerned, he feels Jack’s forehead and looks him over, his parental instincts kicking in.

“No like a team name! Like there’s The Avengers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, uh The Fellowship of the Ring.” Jack lists off, Sam sending him a proud smile at the last one.

“Jack, hunters don’t really do teams. We’re kinda solitary, it’s our nature.” Sam explains, causing Jack even further confusion as he looks around at his family. They do everything together, live together, celebrate wins together, spend holidays together, work together, is that not a team?

“We’re not a team? Isn’t a family a team?” Jack frowns, worrying that he’s misread a long series of social cues. He is prone to that sometimes, his brain working a bit differently from his dads, neurodivergent, that’s what Sam had called it.

“Jack, oh, of course we’re a team. But more than that, we’re family.” Cas swoops in, reaching over and patting Jack on the shoulder. Cas is always the gentlest of his dads, he gives really good hugs, and is the one Jack goes to on the days where being a human is too much to deal with.

“Would it make you feel better if we had a team name?” Dean offers, following Cas’ lead. Jack doesn’t miss when Cas sends Dean a small nod of approval. Dean has a different parenting approach, sometimes he’s a bit harder on Jack. Jack doesn’t like that but he understands that Dean is trying.

“Yeah, I was thinking Cemetery Boys!” Jack says right away, looking around the room expectantly. Sam chokes slightly on his beer while Cas smiles approvingly, Dean laughs softly, shaking his head at Jack.

“Well we do spend a disproportionate amount of time in cemeteries, so it makes sense to me.” Jack defends, his cheeks feeling hot, blushing, that’s what Sam had told him it was. Sometimes Jack hates being human, blushing is embarrassing and makes him feel a bit like a baby.

“Shouldn’t we be cemetery men?” Dean questions, raising a quizzical brow at Jack.

“Technically speaking, Jack and myself are neither male nor female. So, no.” Cas supplies, shrugging his shoulders at Dean and earning an eye roll. Jack doesn’t understand why his dads enjoy teasing each other so much, maybe annoying someone was another human way to express love?

“So, you’re telling me, I came out as bisexual for nothing because, I’m not really dating a man?” Dean blanches, gently smacking Cas on the shoulder. Hitting people is another love language Jack has learned, but not too hard, he learned that after accidently punching Sam a little too enthusiastically on the shoulder. Play fighting is good, actual violence is bad, he had explained that to him.

“We’re non-binary! Claire taught me that.” Jack is happy to interrupt, always happy to share the latest things he’d learned. He loves Claire for that reason, she’s always full of new things to learn, she is an excellent big sister. “Claire, Me, Cas, and Dean, we’re all LGBLT? Or is it LGBTQ? Either way, Claire is a lesbian, she also taught me that. And Dean, you’re a bisexual! Cas, you’re gay, I think? So, you didn’t come out for nothing, you came out for your non-binary partner.” Ha! Jack is very proud, this is one area he feels confident he knows more about than Sam, Dean, or even Cas.

“You’re surprisingly well informed for a toddler.” Sam compliments, tipping his beer bottle at him.

“The toddler age range ends at 3, I assure you, Jack is 4. He is no longer a toddler. I read all the development books.” Cas corrects, earning a laugh from Dean and a groan from Sam.

“He did, trust me Sammy, made me read some of them as well. Babies are weird man. Glad you came out fully formed kid, it was a relief.” Dean chuckles. Jack is relieved he came out fully formed too, it’s a lot more fun hanging out with his family when he can talk to them like this.

“I’m a celestial being, age doesn’t exist for me. I am as old or as young as I want to be at any given minute. Isn’t that neat?” Jack prides himself on choosing this form, a teenage body, he likes it because he can help his family. He likes going hunting, driving cars, and helping Dean cook dinner, a baby couldn’t do any of that!

“He really is your son-uh I mean they really are your child?” Dean self corrects, Jack notices he does that a lot more lately, again he really is trying to be better. Jack admires that about Dean, it’s something he tries to emulate as best as he can, always working to be a better person and make his mistakes right.

“Oh, I’m comfortable with he/they, just like my dad! I do feel like a boy most of the time.” Jack looks to Cas who nods along with him. They’d talked about it once, Cas explained that Jack could change a number of things about himself if he wished, if it would better match his soul. But Jack is really and truly happy with who he is. So is Cas.

“Yeah that’s my son.” Cas says fondly, pulling Jack into a hug. This is a good hug, the kind that makes Jack feel safe and cared for. Cas always makes him feel like he belongs, that no matter what he has a place in his arms.

That night, Jack sets a plan into motion. He waits until everyone is asleep and gets to work on creating gifts for his family. He uses his powers to manifest a set of matching black crew neck sweatshirts with the words ‘Cemetery Boys’ embroidered on the front in white thread. He then designs a magnet, putting a little ghost and tombstone on it. Once he’s satisfied he goes through the recycling and finds a box to put the sweatshirts in.

The next part is the most dangerous. Jack, creeps down the hall to the door that leads into the garage attached to the bunker. His eyes glimmer when he finds his target, the black 67 Impala, sitting dead center in the garage. Dean had just waxed her the day before so she was extra shiny. Jack likes when Baby is shiny, it makes the sun reflect on his face, nice and warm. He takes the magnet and carefully places it on the bumper, making sure not to scuff or scratch the shiny metal. Then in a flash, he is back in his room, laying in his bed as if nothing has happened.

Dean doesn’t notice the magnet until they are packing for a hunt the next day, a simple salt and burn case in Wisconsin. The whole family is going! Dean has even promised Jack that he will take him to Wisconsin Dells if it goes well and they will go to a place called Deer Park where he could pet and feed a bunch of deer. Jack likes animals, sometimes more than people, they’re much less complicated.

“Oh my god! My Baby is a whore! You gave her a tramp stamp?” Dean gasps, pointing to the offending ‘Cemetery Boys’ magnet on the bumper.

“You like it? I made it myself!” Jack beams with pride, hoping Dean was speechless because he was blown away by his ability to create magnets.

“Also, the term you’re looking for is sex worker. You need to be more sex positive Dean, especially for someone, who from the sound I hear coming from your room at night, seems to enjoy sex a great deal.” Jack blurts out nervously when Dean doesn’t respond. Jack tends to do that, he wishes he could stop, another part of what makes him different from most people.

“Oh, for the love of Christ. Please Jack, no.” Sam is doing something Claire told Jack is a facepalm, meaning he was either embarrassed or frustrated, perhaps both?

“Do not be ashamed of our healthy sex life, Dean. But do but ashamed of your gendered slurs and generally overdramatic demeanor. The car is unharmed, it’s a magnet.” Cas steps in, doing the teasing thing again. Jack really doesn’t understand his dads, but he’s glad they seem happy together.

“I swear one day Baby and I will drive away and leave you all behind. Traitors.” Dean threatens, this is a joke, Jack measures. Dean does that a lot, uses sarcasm and empty threats, at first they used to confuse and frighten Jack but now he just accepts it’s part of his nature. Dean is grumpy. Loveable but grumpy.

“See your theatrics are quite comical. You couldn’t leave us if you tried. Who would open the pickle jars for you, darling?” Cas smirks, Jack remembers witnessing this scene, Dean saying all the “no words” at a jar of gherkins as he struggled for a good 5 minutes, until his dad took the jar and opened it within two seconds.

“It was one time! And I swear I loosened it!” Dean glowers, clearly ashamed by the great pickle debacle of last week.

“Dads, stop. I will remove the magnet.” Jack decides it’s his job to play peacemaker, he steps up and gently takes the magnet off baby’s bumper, Dean visibly sighs in relief. Jack tries to hide his disappointment, he’d meant the sticker as a gift.

Cas notices his mood shift and is by his side, pulling Jack into a side hug. “Hey, you can put it on my truck.” He offers, rubbing Jack’s back and making him instantly feel better, must be magic dad powers Jack figures.

“Thanks dad, this is why you’re my favorite.” He says without thinking, Sam and Dean giving him matching offended expressions.

“Uh-what about me, I’m the one that sneaks you candy when Cas isn’t looking.” Sam makes a good point, he is exceptionally good at sneaking. He and Jack have so much fun together, that’s how they ended up with Miracle the dog. Sam had helped Jack smuggle him into the bunker and once both Jack and Cas had bonded with the dog, Dean couldn’t kick him out. Though Jack knows that Dean loves the dog just as much, he’s caught him slipping Miracle some of the good bacon when he thinks no one is looking.

“No Dean is the one that gives me candy. You help me pull pranks!” Jack laughs as Dean, flinches, quickly busing himself with packing all their bags in the trunk along with the weapons they’d need.

“Dean!” Cas says in his low, ‘oh no you’re in trouble,’ voice. “We’ve dicussed this, Jack’s intake of high fructose corn syrup is frighteningly high. He needs to eat real food.” He adds. Nougat is a food, Jack thinks privately, nougat might be his favorite food in fact.

“He’s a kid, he’ll be fine. Dean and I lived on that shi-stuff as kids and we turned out alright.” Sam, usually the vegetable police, surprisingly comes to Jack and Dean’s rescue, earning a matching raised brow from them both.

“Did you though?” Cas challenges, hand on his hip, sometimes dad gets sassy. Jack likes when dad gets sassy because it’s funny, makes him laugh.

“Well damn, don’t sugar coat it or anything babe.” Dean says in disbelief, opening the passenger door for Cas, Sam climbing into Baby’s backseat before Dean motions for Jack to come sit behind him. “Do I even want to know?” He sighs as he spots the box Jack is carrying.

“Well you’ve all been distracting me, I almost forgot.” Jack pauses as he opens the box and holds up the Sam sized sweatshirt. “I made us all shirts! Team shirts, we’re the Cemetery Boys!” He says proudly, shoving the shirt at Sam, then two at Cas, one for him and one for Dean. Jack pulls on his own shirt right away, stretching his arms and modeling it for them all.

“Can you all wear them for me?” Jack pulls out his trump card for this one, using the ‘look’ that Sam had taught him. He made his eyes big and kept them open just long enough so they were watering slightly, then bit his lip.

“I really screwed myself when I taught you my secrets. Really, using my own puppy eyes on me. Really short sighted of me to teach you that.” Sam sighs as he pulls on the sweatshirt, Cas doing the same.

“Nope, still not doing it. I don’t do matching shirts.” Dean holds firm, shaking his head at Cas when he holds out the sweatshirt to him as they pull out of the garage.

“Dean, the couch in the library is awfully uncomfortable. It’d be a shame if you had to sleep there.” Cas is firmly on team Cemetery Boys, pulling out the big threats to get Jack his way.

“Ugh fine, but no one can ever find out about this!” Dean groans, waiting until he’s at a stop sign at the end of the road to pull it on. Jack lights up, his team is complete, all three dads are wearing his shirt!

“It’s funny how easily emasculated you are Dean. Life is a lot more fun when you stop caring about gender expectations.” Cas smirks, Dean rolling his eyes at Cas and mimicking his know it all expression.

“Dean is sensitive, dad, and he’s really good at making pies! I think he cares less than you think he does.” Jack pauses, pleased when Dean makes eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Besides, I saw the pink underwear he hides when I helped with that laundry that one time.” He adds, Dean’s smile quickly disappearing, his eyes wide as he tightly gripped the steering wheel.

“Jesus Christ, kid, stop selling out all my secrets.” Dean grits between his teeth, now he is blushing. Jack knows Dean hates blushing just as much as he does.

“Oh that’s good! Can’t wait to tell Claire that one!” Sam barks out a laugh, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“You wouldn’t!” Dean hangs his head in shame when they stop for a train.

“Already did!” Sam sing songs, holding up his phone. Jack is sometimes thankful that Claire doesn’t live with them, living with your sibling seems exhausting sometimes, if Sam and Dean are any indication.

“Alright that’s enough Jack, don’t spill all the coffee. Your dad is allowed to have his secrets.” Cas intervenes, gently patting Dean’s thigh.

“Tea, dad, its spill the tea!” Jack sometimes can’t handle how out of touch his dad is. Guess that’s what happens when you’re millions of years old.

“Oh right, what’s the difference?” Cas sighs, laying his head back against the headrest as if he’s exhausted, Jack knows it’s just for dramatic effect because Cas doesn’t sleep.

“Cas, there’s big difference! One is the nectar of the gods and the other is glorified leaf water.” Dean defends, holding Cas’ hand, it’s meant to be a private gesture, but Jack can see it and it makes his heart happy.

“Tea is good.” Sam tries.

“I rest my case.” Dean counterpoints.

The case is a rough one, it turns out to be a bit more than a simple salt and burn. The ghost, a family annihilator was coming from beyond the grave to try to kill his son who had survived his attack. They had split into two groups, Dean and Cas at the cemetery burning the bones and Jack and Sam with the victim, trying to keep him safe.

“Do you think maybe we can take a photo together in our shirts?” Jack asks offhandedly as he and Sam roam the house looking for any objects that might still tether the ghost to the house.

“Why do you care so much about these shirts and taking a photo together?” Sam asks curiously, making Jack pause to think for a moment.

“Because, I’ve been watching a bunch of shows and movies, and all the families in them, they have all these photos together. They make all these memories together and they display them in their houses for everyone to see. I want that. The fact that we don’t have that makes me kind of scared, like this isn’t real. Like you all are prepared to run at a moment’s notice if I go nuclear.” Jack explains, using air quotes around the word nuclear.

“Oh. Oh. Jack, hey, it’s not like that. I guess, well we’ve been so busy saving people and hunting things, we’ve lost track of normal family things. You’re family Jack. Promise.” Sam says right away, pulling Jack into a crushing hug. Sam is strong, Jack hopes to be that strong someday.

“Can we take a photo then, a family portrait?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Family portrait? Family portrait. Shit! Jack, the family portrait!” Sam gasps, letting Jack go and looking around the room with wild eyes.

“Huh?” Jack is trying to catch up before he spots the family portrait hanging above the fireplace, both the victim and his evil departed dad in the photo. He rushes to grab it off the wall and tosses it into the fireplace. Sam pulls out a container of salt and lighter fluid, coating the portrait, then Jack tosses a match, lighting it on fire.

“Good work kid.” Sam grins as the ghost appears and then bursts into flames. “I think you’ve earned that portrait.”

True to his word, the first thing in the morning, Sam helps Jack use the laptop to find the closest portrait studio. It happens to be a JC Penney portrait studio, making Dean groan and complain about cheesy backgrounds and awkward poses that they’d likely endure. With much coaxing and further threats from Cas to relegate Dean to sleeping with Miracle on the dog bed, he agrees to the photoshoot.

Jack gets several copies of the photos made. He hands out wallet sized copies to Mary and Eileen who both coo over how adorable they look. Cas gets it framed and hangs it in the library, Dean never admits he likes it, but Jack catches him stopping to look at it every day, a proud smile on his face.

This is Jack’s family. His team. His Cemetery Boys.

#suptober21 #cemetery boys #supernatural #destiel #jack kline #jack kline pov #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fan fiction

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quwarichi · 3 years

Text

heard from your mother au - The Ripple Effect

this is my early birthday gift for @schmuzz1 Ever heard of the ripple effect? you probably did but let's go over it once more; the ripple effect is like if you took a rock and threw it into a lake. Where the rock would hit and sink a ripple would be created, and from there it would only grow bigger and bigger, taking over more space, until the water settles again.

HFYM is the ripple effect ficsonified. The premise is simple, for those who watched the episode Despair in the last season of Supernatural. Castiel confesses his love to Dean, gets taken by the Empty. He wakes up in 2003 in a motel room, without his memories and only a memory saying “Don’t do this, Cas” which helps him figure out his name is Cas, and that he’s a hunter. Simple.

Then he meets Dean.

Now, we’ve all read various pre-series fics, haven’t we? It’s a token when giving fans a time-gap that we don’t know much about, they’d try to fill it as best as their imagination limitations will help them. So what is so special about HFYM?

In a word; Cas.

Meet this angelic being, who without his memories fully believes his humanity, and drives around the US not looking for answers, exactly, but just trying to help out to the best of his ability. By putting Cas in a setting pre-series, and letting the readers know that this Cas is their Castiel, the story already kicks into gear with a race to see when and how Cas will affect the story.

We didn’t know about angels until season 4. We didn’t THINK there was a better way to kill demons other than the Colt until season 3. Characters and themes that we would’ve taken years to get to know in the show are being used and constantly appear throughout what HFYM would call season 0 (or is that just me? make some noise). But Cas changes all of that just by being. For this next part, I recommend you stop reading this post if you haven’t read this fic, go read it in its entirety, and come back here after you’re done and had time to adjust.

We good? Good.

Pamela Barnes, the love of my life and a five-episode cameo in the Supernatural show. In HFYM, she acts as Cas’ best friend most of the time, teaching him the highs (hehe) and lows of having what they all figure is a really developed psychic ability. Bringing Pamela in chapter 16 was not only a brilliant use of character but a ripple effect. But I get ahead of myself. To understand why Pamela is suddenly there, we need to identify the biggest ripple of them all; Dean fucking Winchester.

Dean and Cas, from the start, develop a sort of kinship. It’s reminiscent of their first meeting in Lazarus Rising, where Castiel rescues Dean but also has its own charm. Here, Cas has no idea he’s an angel, and that’s why humanity is so strange to him. Dean views Cas as a weirdo that is not to be trusted, and later as a weirdo that he can kinda trust but make sure to watch his back around him.

In a way, they’re mirrors. Cas’ effortless way of creating acquaintances highlights just how isolated Dean is from people because of John’s influence. Whenever they’re together, Dean finds himself surrounded by others too, but apart it’s clear that Cas (to much of my, and probably his, surprise) is the social one.

Quoting the fic tags: “like maybe if he [Pre-series Dean Winchester] got a boyfriend he would have calmed down” is the very abstract explanation of the ripple effect. By being isolated for so long, without even Sam to keep him company, Dean couldn’t develop properly, resulting in the Dean we get in season 1. But ripples (courtesy of Cas) reach him and that’s where it all comes together. By meeting Cas pre-series Dean is given two things; one, no more isolation, time to grow sunshine. Two, a romantic subplot.

Now I don’t know how much you know about media - but romantic subplots are usually very character forwarding if done right. The best thing about the romantic subplot in HFYM is that it’s not immediate. Fuck no. It’s built on months of friendship and a bond forged in hunting, in putting each other’s lives in the other’s hands like it’s nothing. When they finally get together (I did the math, they get together when the story is like, halfway over. 52% to be exact) it makes sense because you watched them forge the bond and thus pushing their character development further. Romantic subplots are one of the best ways to push a character to their limits (looking at you, chapter 49) and then break those limits. So the biggest ripple was basically Cas and Dean thinking “huh, lemme smooch” and then doing it instead of eye fucking for twelve years.

But that’s not what I’m talking about, exactly. The biggest ripple effect that Cas did with Dean is that when season 1 starts (did I mentioned this was a canon rewrite? We love multitasking), when Dean goes to get Sam for Jericho and everything is put into hyperdrive, Dean is different. It affects how people around him act, especially Sam. The first season is very Sam-driven, but the main character will be changed by changing the “supporting” cast. It doesn’t help that Cas ripple effect number 2932#: Save Jess has definitely quelled the grief-rage thing that Sam has going on in canon since she’s not gone, and is actually around them for a while before leaving to work with Bobby and Jo. Sam immediately notices that something’s different about Dean, but he can’t put a finger on it. Requoting tags: “he would have calmed down”. Gone is the aimless rage and loss that makes him reckless and drinking too much. Gone are the women chasing days because he’s in a committed relationship. Heck Dean has a bit of self-esteem now, having bagged that (points at frog-shirt wearing Cas) and it affects the story in the way he and Sam interact.

Sam can feel that Dean’s hiding something from him (Cas) and it makes a rift between them because he doesn’t get who’s this hunter Dean hangs out with that is definitely replacing Sam in Dean’s eyes - the same guy who used weird powers to save Jess from a demon. Dean is still hurt over Sam leaving for Stanford and anxious about him finding out about Cas and John and everything. Basically, take season 1 brother dynamics and throw a live grenade in the mix. That grenade is Cas, btw.

Ripples, man.

Cas affects the story - he gets Dean to get back in touch with Bobby because he’s looking for an explanation for why he heals from mortal wounds like it’s nothing, why he doesn’t need sleep, and why he’s never hungry. Bobby connects Cas to Pamela, thinking Cas is an odd psychic, and Pamela becomes inherently important in the way that she helps Cas control his powers and provides his first real… non-platonic experience (off-screen, dw they’re friends) that later helps him discern what Dean is to him. Through Bobby, he also meets Ellen and Jo, in the Roadhouse. He goes on hunts alone, and finds a knife that helps him save a possessed girl named Taylor who is later a part of an actual episode (Hookman) and there’s recognition, she’s not just a standby person and that connects with Jess’ storyline, that connects with Sam’s storyline that connects with Dean’s storyline. By being him, Cas creates ripples everywhere he touches because he’s not supposed to be there.

The otherwise undisturbed surface is broken because Cas is there to break it and create ripples that connect with each other, all unknowingly, and the way it’s constructed is incredible.

I could add more about Dean’s bisexuality journey or realization, or how lack of trauma makes Cas a lot more narrative-free but it could all come crashing down on him if he remembers the past, or how Sam and Jess are so interesting like yes girl flesh out the revenge reason we see in three episodes, but this is getting long and I could always make new posts about this fic that I love so much.

Happy birthday, Jenn, you’re an incredible friend and writer and I’m so lucky to have found you in this mayhem of a fandom.

Go read heard from your mother (she don’t recognize you) on ao3, you magnificent people.

#happy birthday jenn #i couldn't think of what to get you so i wrote a fic meta about your fic that gives me life so thank you #i tried really hard to think about what drew me to the fic and ripples was the answer so here have some ripple effect drama #could i have written a fic? yes but fic meta is something that can be so personal sometimes #love finding themes in here that you probably didn't think about when you wrote this totally 50k fic #love you so much babe i hope you enjoyed this #heard from your mother au #hfym au #fic meta #destiel #spn #destiel fic

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

Invisible String

Summary - Dean Winchester was never a man who would freely speak about his feelings and emotions. The reader, is his best friend of many years but some wrong choices and words of Dean's pushes a the reader away.

Pairing - AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff (lots of fluff), angst-ish, swearing, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of bad parenting, cheating

Square filled - Bestfriend AU ( @spndeanbingo )

Word count - 6150

A/N - This is written for @supernatural-jackles' Bi-weekly challenge. The prompts are in bold. Spn dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89 (go check her blog out) Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661 (she is a sweetheart for agreeing to take a look at this long fic. Thank you💕)

“So what are we watching?” You asked as you slumped down on the yellow couch. You were dead on your feet after a long week of work but you just couldn't break tradition and not hang out with your best friend like every friday. Pulling the comforter close to your body, you let out a sigh of contentment. Truth be told, no matter how exhausted you were, you always looked forward to movie night.

“I picked the movie last friday, now it's your turn,” Dean handed you a bottle of beer and took a seat beside you. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a knowing smile appeared on your face as Dean's lips curled up in disgust. “No chick flicks,” he warned.

“I get to call dibs on the movie tonight so I picked,” you paused for a second to create a dramatic effect, “The Proposal.”

“No!” Dean cried out in horror.

“Oh come on, it is not going to be that bad. Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock are in that movie.” you winked at him, making him groan and he picked up a cushion to cover his face, “Now, now don't be so dramatic.” He removed the cushion from his face and glared at you. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Pizza's here!” He exclaimed as he got up to open the door. You turned on the tv, opened Netflix and put on the movie.

“I don't understand how we can be best friends,” Dean grumbled as he came back to the room, “you eat your pizza with pineapple on it.” “It tastes good. You should try it one day.” you said and took the two boxes of food from his hand, setting them down on the table in front.

“Are you kidding me? Even if that becomes the only food available on earth, I still won't eat it. You can't put fruits on pizza,” he said, and took a slice from his own pizza and nestled into the comforter beside you.

“Tomato is a fruit, De,” you said, biting into the slice in your hand. You heard him mutter something under his breath which you ignored and shifted your focus to the movie playing on the screen. Halfway through the movie, you yawned and snuggled into your best friend. He wrapped his warm hands around you, pulling you closer to him. “You want to head back now?” He asked softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, “I want to finish the movie. I need to see if Andrew got Margaret back .” That elicited a chuckle from Dean, the vibrations of his laugh shaking your body a little.

“You're so stubborn and they are gonna find each other, it's a chick flick for God's sake,” he said, “they love each other, clearly.”

“Speaking of love, Cas asked me out,” you said, making Dean sit up straight. “What'd you say?” He asked

“Yes obviously. I need to dive back into the dating life,” you shrugged, “and Cas seems like a good guy.”

“He is but I thought you wanted to wait because of what happened with you know ‘ he who must not be named’,” he said, and you picked up the remote to pause the movie.

“I can't live in the past. I need to move on. It has been two years since I've gone on a date and it's not like I'm getting engaged tomorrow. It's just a date,” you said, messing with the loose end of the comforter.

“As you wish. I'm just looking out for you.”

“I know. You always do,” you said, giving Dean a tight hug, “and I kinda miss doing it.”

“Doing what?” “Sex,” Dean's eyebrows shot up, “oh come on, it's not like I didn't use to have sex with….him.”

“So,” he gulped, “so you m-miss doing….it?”

“Kind of. My fingers are not enough, you know what I mean right?”

“Of course, of course,” Dean cleared his throat, blush crept up his neck.

“And it's not just sex, I miss the physical touch, I miss those things that are part of a relationship,” you said, “I need this and I think I'm ready.”

“If you think you're ready, then it's fine. I just don't want to see my best friend with a broken heart again.” he said, his fingers getting entangled in your hair, as he slowly massaged your scalp.

“That feels good,” you moaned, “after that hell of a meeting with Azazel, I needed this night De. Thank you for always being there.”

“You're my best friend. I'll always be there when you need me even if you make me watch stupid romcoms.” he grinned, “Azazel creating problems again?”

“He never seems to approve of the templates and designs I make no matter how hard I try to make them loveable and on the other hand, the shitty designs made by Abaddon always gets approved.” you groan.

“Why don't you change jobs?”

“I can't. It's not that simple. Life's going good. I don't want to disrupt it by going on a job hunt.” you sighed.

“What if you start working for my company?” You immediately turned your head towards Dean and looked at him with surprise clear in your eyes.

“No.” “Why not?

“I'm a graphic designer, De. I'm not built to work in your company,” you said.

“Be my PA. I really need a personal assistant to help me keep upto date with my schedule and I'm a mess after Charlie left.” Dean said.

“But what is my job criteria? That I'm your best friend? It's like taking advantage of you. I can't do that.”

“What if you work as my PA after being interviewed for the job?” He asked. “Fine, maybe I can give it a shot,” you said.

“Awesome! Meet me in my office on Monday, ten in the morning, sharp. I don't tolerate tardiness.” he said, slipping quickly in the work mode.

“Aye, aye captain.” You giggled, but a deep frown soon appeared on your face.

“What?” “What if it messes up our relationship?”

“It won't. I know how to separate my work life from my personal one,” Dean assured.

“I guess, then it's okay,” you smiled.

“So about your date with Cas. Where's he taking you?”

“I have no idea,” you chuckled, “he said it will be a surprise.”

“That's-that's great but he should know that you hate surprises,” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn't know me very well. I'll let that pass this one time,” you told Dean.

“Fair enough,” he laughed. You yawned once more, as you tried to fight the drowsiness that was threatening to take over you.

“You want to head back home now or you want to crash here tonight, sleepyhead?” Dean smiled.

“I don't think I can drive all the way in such a state. Do you mind if I crash here?” You grinned, knowing very well he didn't mind because you crashed in his guest rooms on most of the Friday nights. He rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch.

“I'll prepare the guest room.” You sleepily nodded at him. You didn't realise you had fallen asleep but you were soon woken up when you felt your body move.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. I'm taking you to bed,” you found yourself in Dean's arms as he headed towards the guest room with you, “you looked too peaceful sleeping. Go back to sleep.” He softly murmured. Dean gently placed you in the bed, pulling the cover upto your chest as you snuggled into the warmth of the covers. Within a few minutes, you had dozed off.

“Morning, sunshine. Pancakes for you,” Dean's loud voice woke you up from your deep slumber the next morning. You sat up in your bed, as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, the smell of pancakes hitting your nose.

“Breakfast in bed for my girl. Listen I gotta run to the office now,” he said as he handed you the plate of freshly cooked pancakes to you.

“It's Saturday!” You exclaimed.

“I know but Benny wanted to sign the deal with our company today. It's an important one, we can't let that go out of our hands,” he made you understand, “I'll be back within a few hours.”

“Sufe fing. I wif ve here,” you spoke with your mouth full, “Sure thing. I will be here.” You repeated your words after swallowing your food.

“Maggie will drop by. If you want to leave the house before I return, give the keys to her.” He said as he went back into his room to put his suit on.

“Hot damn,” you let out a low whistle as Dean stepped out of the room in his black suit, “Go get the deal, cowboy!” Dean did a full body laugh at your words, throwing his head backwards before he bid you goodbye and walked out of the door leaving you alone in his penthouse. Finishing your breakfast, you got up and got freshened up for the day. You picked up your phone and saw three texts from Cas.

“Meet me at 7.” “At the Season's 52.” “I'm looking forward to this.”

A smile crept onto your face, as you read the texts from him. “I need your help,” you shot a text to Ruby, “I've a date tonight. I don't know what to wear.” You waited for her to text back but instead of getting a text, you got a call from her.

“He finally asked you out?” She screamed from the other side of the phone.

“What do you mean “finally”?” You wondered.

“Oh come on, Y/N. How long have you two known each other?” “Uh-two months.”

“Two-wait, two months? You don't have a date with Dean?” She asked.

“No! Why would you think that?” You exclaimed, “Cas asked me out.”

“Cas? As in Castiel Novak? Dean's friend? And Dean's okay with it?”

“What's with the twenty questions, Ruby?” You said, annoyed at her questions, “And yes. Dean's fine with it. Why wouldn't he be? He is dating Lisa, in case you didn't remember. Now will you help me? I need a dress for tonight.”

Ruby agreed to go on a little shopping spree with you to find the perfect dress. Handing over the keys to Maggie, the housekeeper, you shot a text to Dean letting him know you were leaving his house. You waited for some time but he didn't text you back. You shrugged it off thinking he was probably busy with the meeting. Your whole afternoon was spent with Ruby as you tried to find a good dress for the date. She made you try on what seemed like a hundred dresses of different colours and style until a green bottleneck dress finally caught your eyes.

“This is a beautiful dress! You gotta try it on,” Your friend insisted.

“You sure? Look at the price - it's too expensive,” you pouted.

“Do you want to get laid tonight?” Ruby quirked her eyebrow.

“Yeah-I mean no….maybe,” you stutter.

“That dress - Cas won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight,” she smiled.

“Fine, if you insist.” Needless to say, the dress was a perfect fit but it was all for nothing.

Tapping on the hardwood of the table, you let out a frustrating sigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you took a sip of the drink.

“Ma'am do you-are you going to-”

“Please bring the check. I'm done here,” you said, barely managing to keep your tears at bay. The waitress nodded and walked away from your table. You dialed up your best friend’s number and waited for him to pick up.

“Dean,” you said, sniffling a little as he picked up his phone after the third ring. “Y/N, you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you,” you cleared your throat, “Can you pick me up? I'm at Season’s 52.”

“Sure,” you heard shuffling on the other side, “I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” you replied.

“He just didn't show up,” you sniffled as Dean drove yourselves back to his house.

“Maybe-maybe he had his reasons,” Dean said, throwing a worried glance at your way.

“Reasons?” You scoffed.

“Cas is a good man. This is very unlike him,” Dean said.

“Am I-am I not good enough, Dean?” “Y/N, you know that's not true. You're pretty, smart, a little badass - you are a good person with a kind heart,” Dean smiled.

“Then why? Why didn't he show up? He could have left a message. I'm telling you Dean, I'm so over men now. All men are the same,” you looked at him, “except you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. That is good to hear.”

“I sure do know how to choose,” you grumbled.

“Y/N, it's just one bad date. So what? Cas is not the only man in the whole world. You'll find someone,” Dean said, pulling into his driveway.

“I don't think so. Maybe he was right,” you opened the door of the car to step out.

“Who?”

“Alistair. Maybe he is right. Maybe the problem is me,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. Dean grabbed your hands and pulled you back into the car.

“No. He is not right. Alistair will never be right. He was an abusive and manipulative son of a bitch. Listen to me, you are not the problem, sweetheart,” he said, “those men just don't understand you.”

“Is that why no one sticks around?” You turned around to face him with wet eyes.

“I did and I will always be there for you,” he said, his hands cupping your face.

“I know, De,” you leaned into his touch as his thumb gently caressed your cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by three harsh taps on the car window. Dean immediately opened the door and stepped out.

“Lisa.” He said.

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Lisa exclaimed. You couldn't see her face but you knew she was furious.

“It's not what it looks like,” Dean whispered.

“You just up and left me in the morning and now when I get back to talk things out, I find you cozying up to her. I'm done with you!” She yelled back. You shrunk back into your seat when you heard her scream. Dean didn't even tell you that he had broken up with her. You wondered why he hid it from you.

“I already said we were over Lisa, just go back home,” Dean said and brought his hand down his face.

“Three years of relationship meant nothing to you! Why?” Lisa shoved Dean, making him stumble back a little.

“I don't owe you an explanation, okay?”

“You cheating asshole-” “I didn't cheat on you, Lisa. I-I'm just not in love with you anymore,” Dean said, making her scoff.

“Have a nice life, asshole!” Lisa said and you heard her retreating footsteps. You stepped out of the car and saw Dean standing against the car, with his face buried in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” You rubbed his arm gently.

“Yeah. I'm sorry you had to hear that,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you tell me you broke up with her?” You asked.

“It wasn’t important.” “Not important? You let me ramble all the way from the restaurant to your house but not once did you tell me you broke up with her,” you said.

“Y/N, I'm fine. Can we drop this now?” He snapped at you, “I'm sorry.”

“S’okay,” you gave him a sad smile, “I've an idea.”

“Does this idea include booze?” “What do ya think?” “I'm in.”

“What time is it?” You groaned as bright light hit your eyes. The throbbing pain in your head increased as you opened your eyes, trying to focus on the human figure standing in your doorway.

“You got wasted last night, sweetheart,” Dean grinned.

“Stop talking. Just stop talking,” you groaned and nestled deep into your covers.

“Aspirin. You will need these,” he kept the medicine on the nightstand, and walked away, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Morning, how's the hangover?” He gave you a cheeky smile as you walked into the dining room a few minutes later. Dean had his laptop opened in front of him, a cup of coffee beside the electronic device. “You're enjoying this too much, aren't ya? How come you're not hung-over?” You grumbled, “I'm hungry.”

“Here. I made waffles because my heartbroken, hung-over best friend needs her comfort food. Dig in,” he said and pushed a plate of waffles towards you, “I didn't drink much.”

“I thought we were drinking because you had a breakup.” “I told you already I'm not feeling miserable. See there's this girl I like who is not Lisa. I'm thinkin’ of asking her out so I did what I had to do. I ended things with Lisa,” Dean said.

“How come you never told me about this girl?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “‘Cause I wasn't sure how I felt but two days ago I saw her and I just knew that she is the one I want to be with,” he smiled.

“You're such a sap.” You giggled, “she must be very special.”

“She is very special. I have never met a girl like her,” he said, staring at you, “now, eat up.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, taking a bite of the waffles on your plate, “you know, you should give up your business and open up a coffee shop. You make excellent waffles.”

“Sorry sweetheart, no can do. People at work will miss me too much,” he chuckled, “you do remember you are interviewing for the position of PA tomorrow?”

“Yep but I don't know if I will get it or not. I have heard the CEO of the company is kind of a shithead,” you grinned.

“Oh really?” Dean looked at you with amused eyes, “You're terrible.”

“Yeah, so I've heard.” You laughed.

He shook his head at you, “Listen, I have a favour to ask.” “Shoot.”

“I would like it if you could accompany me to Sam and Jess’ anniversary party tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?” “Yeah. I know it's very sudden but it completely sli-”

“I'll go with you but I thought you told me that after what happened with your Dad last time, you wouldn't be attending another family gathering,” you said.

“Uh-huh. Sam insisted that I attend this party,” he replied.

“Fine I'll be there with you at the party to save you from John Winchester,” you giggled.

“You'll be my knight in shining armour tonight.” He chuckled.

You went back to your apartment to get ready for the party. Dean had told you that he would be picking you up at six that evening. As you touched up on your makeup, you heard three knocks on your door.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Dean smirked, looking dapper in a black two-piece suit.

“Good evening, Dean. I'll be out in a minute,” you blushed when you saw his eyes travel all over your body.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“De-” you snaked placed your hand over his, as you both sat inside the Impala with her engine turned off.

“I can't do this Y/N. I can't face John Winchester again, not after the crap he pulled last time,” he gritted out the words, his knuckles turning white as he held the steering wheel tightly, staring off at the direction of his house.

“Why are you here?” He looked at you in surprise. “I-Sam asked me to be here,” he said.

“Exactly. Your little brother asked you to be here so you will go into that house and attend your brother's party. It's up to you if you want to make any small talk, I'll be there with you but Dean you can't avoid your father forever-”

“I'm not avoiding him,” Dean said.

“Yes, you are. Now go in there, ask him why he did that, demand answers from him,” you said.

“I-okay, let's go. Just don't leave my side tonight or someone might get hurt,” he said.

“You're not going to punch your Dad,” you mumbled, “even though he deserves it.” He chuckled at your words as you two stepped out of the car.

“I'll never get used to the fact that you grew up in a mansion,” you smirked.

“It's not a mansion. It's a….big house,” he smiled.

“Yep, whatever you say.” As soon as you stepped through the door of the mansion, Dean was immediately pulled into a hug. “I thought you wouldn't show up,” Sam said, letting go of his brother, “Hey Y/N.”

“Almost didn't,” the older Winchester replied as you gave the younger one a small wave. “He showed up, didn't he? What about Mom?”

“Mom and Dad are in the living room. Last thing I saw they are not speaking to each other even when they are in the same room. I just want everyone to act civil till the party's over,” Sam said, “Drinks are in the kitchen.”

“So kitchen first, living room later. Keep John out of my sight and everything will be perfect,” Dean patted his brother's shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen, taking you with him. Pouring himself a glass, he handed you one.

“Dean,” a deep voice came from the doorway, making Dean stand up straight. “Sam had one job. Dad.” He looked at John and gave him a curt reply.

There was a moment of awkward silence as no words were exchanged between the father and the son. You could feel Dean trying his level best to keep himself from screaming at his Dad. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“I know you don't want to see me right now-” “You're right and you may leave now,” Dean said and turned his back towards his father.

“Son. You have to understand, it was a long time back and I didn't know what was going through my head. I-” John sighed.

“You what? You had a perfect family here. A wife, two sons. And all this time, you knew about Adam but you said nothing. You kept up with the charade of the perfect husband and father when in reality you were neither of them,” Dean gritted out.

“Dean. Maybe I was not the perfect husband but I did everything for you and Sam,” the older man said in a harsh tone.

“Really? You did everything? You were nothing but an absent father. I was there to take care of Mom and Sammy while you were away on your so-called business trips when actually you were plowing another woman's field,” Dean growled at his father.

“Dean!” His father snapped back.

“Mr. Winchester you should leave now,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand, “John, please.”

“This is family matter Y/N. You have no right to get involved in this,” John retorted.

“Don't speak to her like that. She is more family to me than you ever were,” Dean said and stalked towards his Dad, “so you can leave now. I'm sure as hell Mom is not talking to you so you can get the hell out of this house now, John.”

“Dean-” “Now,” Dean growled.

“I would do what he says, John,” you said. John scoffed, turning around and got out of the house. Dean plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, gently rubbing his temples.

“You sure you're okay?” “I need a stronger drink,” he murmured.

“I saw Dad leave. What happened?” Sam came into the kitchen and asked as he looked at his brother.

“I told you to keep John away from me. You had one job,” Dean snapped and stormed out of the room, grabbing a glass of drink with him.

“He just needs some time to cool down. John came to talk to Dean and-”

“Yeah I understood. I'm gonna check on Mom. This party was a mistake,” Sam said and left the kitchen leaving you standing there alone.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you finished up your drink. You were angry at John too. He had hurt Dean, your best friend. He was a liar and you hated liars. You needed to go find Dean. You placed the empty glass on the counter and made your towards the door but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him.

“Cas,” you said, “I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Yeah well, Sam is a good friend so he invited me over.” Cas gave you a smile.

“Oh.” You nodded.

“We should probably address the elephant in the room,” he gave an awkward laugh.

“Huh? Oh you mean how you stood me up last night?” You glared at him.

“Well you didn't tell me that you were looking for only a one night stand? I would have backed out sooner. I like you Y/N but I don't do one night-”

“Wait, hold on. Who told you I was looking for a one time, no strings attached thing?”

“Dean told me,” your jaw dropped onto the floor at his confession, “I'm sorry Y-”

“S’okay.” You brushed him off, “I need to have a word with Dean, have you seen him?”

“I think he was talking to Kevin over there,” Cas pointed you towards another room.

“Thanks and it's okay, Cas. We're cool.” You said and almost ran your way into the other room.

“I'm telling you man, you deserve someone better than Y/N. She is clingy and she doesn't take no for an answer. I can give you her number but-” Dean turned around and his eyes locked with your wet ones. You shook your head at him, a look of betrayal evident on your face. You heard him call out to you as you turned on your heels and ran towards the door. “Excuse me, Kevin,” Dean said and went after you but by that time you were already out of the house. “Y/N!” He called, as you pulled out your phone to call for an uber.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed, “I'm clingy, I don't take no for an answer. Is that what you think of me? All this time while you pretended to be my best friend, is this what went through your head?” Tears were running down your face now, “how many times was I there for you when you needed me and this is how you repay me?”

“I didn't mean to say it like that. You are my best friend Y/N-”

“You are a fuckin’ liar! You told Cas that I was looking for a person to keep my bed warm for only one night. Why? You know what, I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone,” you said.

“No, please,” he took a step towards you. “Don't you dare make a move!” You screamed, “You lied to me and I hate liars more than anything. You are no better than your Dad. I hate you! I regret that I ever thought of you as my best friend.” You heard shuffling behind you and turned around to see him leaving. A sob tore from your throat. Standing there alone on the porch of the Winchester mansion, with your smudged makeup, you waited for the uber to show up.

It took you one hour to finally reach your house. Your phone was getting blown up by messages from the Winchester brothers and Ruby. You broke down in tears as soon as you reached your house. You crawled underneath the covers without bothering to get out of your dress or to remove your makeup. Your body shook as you continued to sob loudly into the pillow. The same man, who acted as your rock when you had left Alistair, gave you shelter in his house when you showed up in the middle of the night because your ex-boyfriend was drunk and was on a rampage, was the one who continued to spew lies about you behind your back. Your trust was shattered just like your heart and you didn't know how to piece them back together. The crying had tired you out and in no time you slipped into a deep slumber with Dean's words haunting your dream.

Morning came way too quickly. You woke up to Ruby knocking on your door along with Dean calling your phone. Your eyes were red and swollen as a result of crying all night long.

“What happened? Who's ass do I need to kick?” Ruby barged into your house as soon as you opened the door as saw you had been crying.

“....Dean.” “Dean? Dean Winchester?” Her eyes widened in surprise which later turned to anger when you told her everything that had happened the day before. Ruby was furious and if Dean was there in the room, he would have been a dead man.

“Oh Y/N,” Ruby cooed as she pulled you into a hug, “I didn't know it was this bad. Sam called me to check on you because you left his house in a hurry. I'm gonna kill Dean Winchester.” You held onto her tightly as sobs racked through your body. She gently caressed your head while cursing the green-eyed Winchester.

You were miserable but what you didn't know is that your ex-best friend was also losing his mind over the incident. The guilt was eating him up alive and he didn't know how to fix it. Sam had punched him in the face and kicked him out of his house when he had told him what happened.

“Tell her the truth or don't ever talk to me again,” Sam had threatened his brother. With red eyes and a swollen cheek, Dean went into his office the next morning. He hoped that after the interview he would get a chance to apologise but you never showed up.

“Okay, Mr. Winchester, that was the last interviewee,” Jody poked in her head into the room. “That was the last? What about uh-Y/N L/N?” Dean asked.

“Uh-she dropped out - called us early in the morning to let us know she won't make it to the interview,” Jody smiled, “I need your decision fast.”

“Decision?” “Who we are hiring for the position of the PA,” she said.

“Sure. I'll let you know. You can go now Jody. Close the door on your way out,” Dean said.

He sighed as he dialed your number, “It's Y/N L/N. She can't get to her phone now. Please leave a message.”

“Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry. You shouldn't have dropped out of the interview. I know you won't ever forgive me but I'm sorry.” You sniffled as you heard his voice message. He had left you exactly fifty-three texts, twenty three missed calls and seventeen voice messages - all had the same words, ‘I'm sorry’ but you couldn't forgive him.

“Stop listening to that asshat,” Ruby grumbled and snatched your phone from you. “I-I just can't understand why he did that? I thought he was my friend,” you sniffled.

“I'm sorry Y/N,” Ruby took a seat beside you and wrapped you in a comforter, “I brought ice cream with me. I heard they work wonders on a broken heart.”

“And you brought my favourite flavour. Thanks!” You hugged but were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell.

“Stay here. Let me check,” Ruby said and went towards the door. Opening it, she stared at a disheveled, sad Dean Winchester.

“Give me one good reason to not kick you out right now,” Ruby glared at Dean.

“I need to talk to her. Please,” Dean’s voice cracked at the end.

“No you won't. She is miserable and I won't let you break her even more,” Ruby challenged, “Now get out.”

“I don't care if I have to fight you but please let me see her,” he pleaded.

“You are one stubborn, lying piece of shit,” Ruby grumbled.

“Why are you here?” the two heads turned immediately towards you.

“I wasn't sure you wanted to see me but I had to see you,” Dean said.

“And why exactly?” Ruby snapped.

“Ruby. It's okay. Let him in. I need to hear him out.” Dean gave Ruby a side eye and let himself in.

“Y/N,” She started. “I'll be fine," you assured her.

“If you need me to kick him out or kick his ass, just call me,” she glared at Dean once more and left your apartment.

“She's scary,” the green-eyed man said. “Well she has to. She just saw her friend with a broken heart,” you threw him his words back.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am,” Dean said, his head hung in shame.

“Why?” He looked up at you, “I don't know,” he replied, making you scoff.

“You don't know? Well maybe because you actually thought of me to be clingy and the girl who doesn't take no for an answer,” you seethed, “and you even lied to Cas about me. You framed me as some whore who doesn't do relationships. Fuck you, Dean! You knew better than anyone how long it took me to get over Alistair. How could you do this to me?”

“I don't know,” he whispered, “It's just I lied to them because I didn't want them to be with you.”

“It's my life! I get to decide who I want to have sex with and who I want to date,” you hissed.

“Well I couldn't let you make those decisions because I didn't want you to choose them. I wanted you to choose me.” he blurted out. You sat there dumbfounded as you heard his confession, "What? Why?"

“Because...I love you,” Dean muttered.

“You love me?” “Yeah.”

“What are you, a kindergartener? Next thing I know you will be pulling my pigtails,” you sassed.

“I'm sorry. You know I'm bad with feelings-” “So you decided to lie?”

“Yeah.” “You're terrible, you know that,” you said.

“So I have heard,” he shrugged. “Come here you idiot,” you beckoned at him. He went towards you and sat down beside you.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just-” “What? You were just fending off the boys?”

“Yeah. At first I was scared that I was falling for my best friend and you knew me, you knew all my horrible secrets, the thoughts that are inside my head which keep me up at night and I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same. I broke up with Lisa for you because whenever I closed my eyes at night I wanted it to be you with me, not Lisa.” You were stunned at his confession. Dean never talked about his feelings, he was extremely good at hiding his feelings so hearing him blurt out about how he felt, surprised you.

“Dean,” you said. “No. I need to say this,” he said, stopping you, “I don't know if you feel the same. Even if you did, I don't think I have a chance after the stunt I pulled yesterday. But sweetheart, you mean everything to me, I swear to never hurt you again. I was planning on asking you out after the party but Kevin had asked for your number so I told him all those lies about you but sweetheart I know what I did….said is unforgivable but please I need you. I need my best friend back.” He looked at you, locking his teary eyes with yours.

“I don't know whether to kiss you or hit you,” you said, wiping away the single tear that rolled down your cheek. “K-kiss me?” Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You are the most horrible person I have ever met. I hate you, Dean but I hate me more that I decided to fall for this horrible person that I call my best friend. Kiss me, before I change my mind,” you said and that's all Dean needed before he crashed his lips into yours. It was a harsh kiss but one filled with longing and love. His hands sneaked to the back of your head, his fingers entangled with your hair as your hands held on to his biceps.

“I'm sorry for hurting you,” he said after he let go of your lips. You sat there with his hands cupping your face, your foreheads touching. “Next time, talk to me,” you whispered.

“I will,” he kissed your forehead, “So Y/N L/N, can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” “Definitely Dean Winchester, but mind you I'm tough to impress,” you smirked.

“I have plans, special plans for a special girl. I will make you mine,” he said before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once again.

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pallasperilous · 4 years

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Occursus

Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.”

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.” He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade.

“So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod.

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…” and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

#spn fanfiction #spn 15x20 #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #bless you all for your sexy and angsty coda fics please enjoy this massive wodge of angel lore wankery dating back 11 seasons

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