#also cas knocks on deans door later and they have their first kiss :)

[atlas-assbutt]

Imagine it’s the 10th anniversary of Cas pulling Dean out of hell. Dean obviously sucks at talking about feelings, so he goes to the grocery store to get a birthday card for the guy. (He definitely didn’t make something for him himself. Nope, definitely not.)

Then he sees this and he remembers when Cas was obsessed with bees. It’s too punny to resist. He takes the balloons home and wraps up his gift. He leaves them on the map table for Cas to find. Dean goes into his room and waits.

(Sam saw it all but he said nothing)

Cas walks down the staircase into the bunker and sees the balloons. He knew almost instantly that it was Dean that did this. The angel opens up the small package. It has a woven bracelet with a small wing charm with two beads on it. One is blue and one is green.

Castiel isn’t the kind of person to cry, but he can’t help the tear that slips down his cheek. He had no doubt that Dean cared about him, but he didn’t realize that it was this much.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos. 

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email. 

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.) 

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else. 

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

Then you paced back and forth, trying to think of what to do. Should you leave your momentary shelter to go and find him, or would that just run the risk of him never finding you.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to do.

God, I’m so fucking screwed…

You slumped against the wall and tried to stifle your coughing, all while you also tried (and failed) to form some kind of a plan.

Until the bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?!

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.” 

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[cevans-is-classic]

Castiel Novak is a fairly decent high school principal but fairly decent. Anything doesn't pay mortgages after your divorce, so this fairly decent high school principal moves into a new building.

Castiel knew with the divorce and relocation that it would take a bit to aclimate to his surroundings.

He wasn't expecting to acclaimate to a fourteen year old sitting on his couch eating the strawberries from his fridge.

Of course, at first, Castiel is appalled. He's ready to call the police and demand answers until he recognizes the Fourteen year as Sam Winchester, who is normally an above average student, then he remembers that Sam's father is gone a lot.

He knows he should question what's happening, but Sam is bothering anything, and at least they know each other to some degree.

"Sam," the teen turns his head to look back at Castiel, "Do you have any homework?"

And suddenly it becomes a routine.

Every other day, he finds Sam on his couch after school is out, homework spread out on his coffee table, and whatever fruit he'd bought that week being consumed.

It's almost a month later when Castiel hears a knock at the door and opens it thinking it would be the young man — only to see someone who is definitely not Fourteen year old Sam Winchester.

The green eyed stranger blinks at him for a beat, mouth open in surprise before he stutters out jumbled words and starts rubbing his neck.

"Excuse me?"

The stranger coughs, "Ah, well, I just found out where Sammy's been hanging when I'm at work — seriously, dude, I am so sorry. He's a good kid, but he'd got boundaries issues, and I, uh, well — yeah, sorry. I kinda owe you for you, know — anyway — here." An envelope is handed to him with a furtive goodbye and a, lack for a better phrase, cloud of dust.

It was two hundred dollars.

Castiel carefully slips the money into Sam's backpack the next day.

He finds a post-it note on his door that says, "Okay, fine." A frown face next to it with a quicker scrawl under saying,"Dean made me leave this"

Through careful questioning and two awkward dinners later, the principal finds out Sam's parental figure is his older brother , who is barely twenty-one, works two jobs, and takes care of their wheelchair bound Uncle ("grumpy old man won't let us move him out of that dump he has. It's safer. We're on the first floor here!")

After that, it happens even more. Sometimes, Sam is accompanied by Kevin Tran, who is two years younger than Sam but two grades above him and a redhead girl he's never seen before that introduced as Charlie. (Castiel finds out she lives with Sam and Dean on the weekends but goes to an all girl magnet school during the week. Castiel ignored the looks the three of them shared)

He sees more of Dean too.

They pass Sam back and forth and an unspoken agreement.

He learns more and more about Dean every day, if not from Sam and Charlie, then from the man himself, or Bobby, thsme uncle, when he's over, Jody the town sheriff, Miss Macleod who lives above them and their mailman Garth (Castiel didn't even ask the mailman. He saw Sam with him and just started talking. He's nice)

Four years.

For four years this becomes the unexpected norm in Castiel's life so when Sam gets into Stanford, the principal realizes just how much his life had become revolved around this off the wall crazy custody arrangement that he happened upon.

It also shows him how much he'd fallen in love with the Winchester family and that he'd be more than willingly to stay around longer — possibly.

"You could quit one of your jobs." Castiel says sheepishly as Dean tapes a box closed.

"You asking to move in together, Cas? I gotta tell ya this a little fast for my taste. You haven't even asked me out on a date yet."

Castiel sighs, "Dean, would you like to-"

"Shut up and come here —'been raising a teenager together for four years and I ain't even been kissed proper."

Castiel Novak is a fairly decent high school principal, but he's a pretty damn good kisser as well.

[babygirlwolverine]

The 5 Senses of Longing

This fic is a gift for @stanforderadean as part of my gift exchange celebration!

Also posted on ao3.

Word Count: 7,463 (Continued under the Read More)

Dean rapped his knuckles on the wood door, pausing for a second before nudging it open with his shoulder. Cas was lying on the bed in his room, propped up against the headboard with a book in his lap, and Dean was once again hit with the startling recollection that Cas actually needed to sleep now that he didn’t have his Grace. Somehow it was endearing to see Cas this way; curled up under the covers and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

But wasn't that the point of this? The whole reason Dean had come knocking on Cas' door in the first place. Because Cas had been without his powers for months now, and also because they were in a lull with finding Metatron and killing Abbadon. What they needed was a little break. And even though they were dealing with more shit than ever before, Dean yearned to slow things down around them for just a couple of days to show Cas some of the good things about being human.

Dean had been the one to suggest the idea casually to Sam, and with Ezekiel healing him slowly, it was best for Sam to stay at the Bunker and rest. Which gave Dean the perfect opportunity. Now the only thing to do was to bring the idea to Cas.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, hovering in the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”

Cas smiled, lowering his book and closing it with a quiet thump. “Not at all,” he said, gesturing for Dean to enter the room. “Did something happen?” he asked, smile shifting into something more alert as he pushed himself further up in the bed.

“No, no, nothing happened,” Dean quickly reassured, taking a couple steps closer before hesitating at the foot of the bed. Should he sit on the bed? Should he pull up a chair? Should he just stand there? Why was he overthinking this? God, he really needed to get these bubbling feelings under control before he opened his mouth and said something he shouldn’t. “I was uh. Actually wondering if you were busy?”

Cas blinked a couple times, tilting his head and squinting up at Dean in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I thought we could go on a little road trip. Just you and me for a couple of days. Wanted to show you a few things now that you’re sorta human,” Dean said.

“A road trip? Don’t we do that all the time?” Cas asked.

Dean grinned, nudging Cas’ leg with his knee as he plopped himself down on the edge of the bed. “Well, yeah. But this isn’t gonna be a road trip for a case. There’s a couple of spots around here that you’ve got to experience. Sights and smells you haven’t seen yet. Oh, and the best stack of pancakes you’ll ever eat. You’ve just gotta trust me.”

Something soft and affectionate sparked through Cas’ eyes before he nodded. “Best pancakes I’ll ever eat? Is that so?” he teased.

All the nerves that had been lurching in Dean’s stomach settled all at once, and he shoved at Cas’ leg again. Yeah. This he could do. Their usual playful antics that he enjoyed so much. He didn’t need to think about that little spark that was twining around his heart at the way Cas had just smiled at him.

“Just you wait. Now that you’ve got taste buds, I’m gonna make you try every single food I can get my hands on. I will find every single thing you enjoy eating, mark my words,” Dean said lightly, hauling himself up from the bed. “Twenty minutes. Get your ass moving and meet me at the car.”

Cas laughed, free and happy, and Dean’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh, he was going to do everything he could over the next two days just to hear that sound again.

Dean had just reached the door when Cas called out to him.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean turned, hand on the doorknob as he looked back at Cas. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Cas said, smiling so warmly that it made Dean feel momentarily weak in the knees. Oh God. If Cas kept smiling at him like that, Dean was going to do something he regretted, like kiss Cas stupid until he could feel that smile against his own lips.

“Yeah, of course. Twenty minutes. Don’t be late,” Dean said, flashing Cas a quick smile before bolting from the room; the door snapping shut behind him as he escaped to the safety of his own room.

Pressing his back into his bedroom door, Dean heaved in a deep breath; closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands over his face. This idea was either the best thing he’d ever come up with... or it was going to be the death of him. Maybe he’d be able to get over this stupid fluttering feeling in his chest. Or maybe, just maybe, that feeling was going to explode until it consumed him whole.

~

"Where are we going first?" Cas asked, sliding into the passenger seat exactly nineteen minutes later.

A minute early, Dean noted. Was that deliberate? Was it accidental? Dean couldn't possibly be overthinking one teeny tiny little minute, could he?

"Pancakes, obviously. Unless you're suddenly going to turn your nose up at chocolate," Dean said, darting his eyes over to Cas as they pulled out of the Bunker onto the main dirt road winding through the woods.

"Chocolate?" Cas repeated, turning in his seat until he'd angled his body towards Dean. The smile that crept across his lips was so dazzling that Dean had to suck in a sharp breath and force his eyes on the road. "I love chocolate."

Huffing out a laugh, Dean clicked on the music and Zeppelin softly filled the air. "Oh really? I never would've known." Shifting onto the main road, Dean grinned at Cas. "I definitely didn't see you eat 3 chocolate bars yesterday."

Cas pretended to be shocked, gasping at Dean even though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. "That certainly wasn't me. Sam framed me."

The laughter bubbled up from Dean’s chest, and he couldn't stop himself from knocking his hand against Cas' knee. "You're a menace. You and your sudden sweet tooth."

"I don't see you complaining that hard. Considering now you have someone to eat chocolate pancakes with."

The breath caught in Dean's throat; such simple words hitting like a wave against his chest. Keeping his focus on the road, he quickly darted his gaze over at Cas from the corner of his eye. Cas had tucked himself against the door, with his body still tilted towards Dean. There was a soft expression on his face; a smile that lit up his eyes with his nose crinkled adorably.

Oh God, this feeling really was going to consume Dean.

Shifting the conversation towards topics that wouldn’t make Dean’s heart ache in his chest, the hour-long drive slipped by in a blur. The diner soon loomed on the horizon, and it was so easy to keep talking about blueberries vs bananas as Dean guided the Impala into a parking spot.

“Doesn’t it depend on what you’re putting the fruit with?” Dean asked, holding the diner door open for Cas to walk through. “Besides, bananas can be baked into far more things than blueberries.”

Cas scrunched up his face, giving Dean a look that bordered on a pout. “You’re just saying that because you prefer bananas over blueberries.”

"I would never," Dean teased, before stepping up to the counter. "Table for two, please."

"Right this way," the hostess said, guiding them to a booth in the back of the diner.

As soon as they sat down, Cas moved to pick up a menu from the table, but Dean reached out from the other side of the booth and plucked it from Cas' hands. "Nope. No looking. You just gotta trust me on this one, yeah?"

"What if I don't like it?" Cas asked, raising an eyebrow even though he leaned back in his seat, conceding to Dean's statement of trust.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Dean tried not to linger on the way their fingertips had just barely brushed when he'd pulled the menu from Cas' grasp. "You will. Don't overthink it and have a little faith in me."

"I do. Trust you," Cas said, something in his tone slipping from playful to serious.

Dean shook his head, dispelling the heavier tone. He didn't want to think about Cas' unwavering trust and how most days he felt like he didn't deserve it. Right now, this moment was about showing Cas something more.

"Good. Because if you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you again," Dean joked, lightening the mood again.

"Never again? That's a long time to not talk to me because of some pancakes, Dean,” Cas laughed.

Just as Dean was about to throw another tease at Cas, a waiter appeared at their table with a smile and a notepad in his hand.

“Hi there, welcome to Mel’s. My name’s Hunter. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Actually, Hunter, we’re ready to order. Two coffees, one with cream and sugar and one with cream. And two short stacks of the rocky road pancakes, please.”

Hunter smiled, jotting down the order. “Well that was easy. I’ll get those coffees out to you both in just a few moments.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, as Hunter collected their menus and disappeared towards the kitchen. “You know how I like my coffee?”

Dean ducked his head, a sudden tinge burning his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “Cream and two sugars. Like I said, you like things on the sweeter side,” Dean said, avoiding Cas’ gaze from the other side of the table.

“You’re very observant,” Cas pointed out.

Dean bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to swallow the words ‘I’m only observant when it comes to you.’ Instead, he threw on a cocky smirk and said, “That’s because I’m an excellent hunter.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas kicked Dean lightly under the table. “You’re not that good.”

Dean pretended to be offended, scrunching up one of the spare napkins and throwing it at Cas’ face. Cas laughed, bright and giddy, and Dean felt a weightless feeling in his chest. He spent the next 15 minutes doing anything and everything he could just to hear Cas laugh again and again.

By the time their pancakes and coffee arrived at the table, Cas’ cheeks were pink from laughter and Dean had never been more smitten. Cas made a little sound of shock as the pancakes were put in front of him; his eyes widening as he looked up at Dean in surprise.

Three massive chocolate pancakes covered the entire size of the plate. Topped with handfuls of marshmallows and almonds, along with a drizzle of chocolate syrup and cocoa powder, it was a chocolate overload.

“What do you think? Does it look sweet enough for you, angel?” Dean said, with a grin.

“Looks like Heaven,” Cas muttered, picking up his fork and taking a bite. Cas instantly groaned in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed happily. “Tastes like it, too.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Cas’ words or to dwell on the sound Cas had made when he tasted the pancakes, and it was all too much and not enough.

“You like it?” Dean asked, swallowing a mouthful of his own pancake and washing it down with a sip of coffee just so he could distract himself from the look of sheer bliss that was on Cas’ face.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Cas said, dipping one of the mini marshmallows into the chocolate syrup with a grin.

This time Dean did laugh, nudging Cas’ leg under the table with his foot. “Don’t eat it too fast or you’ll give yourself hiccups.”

“That’s not a thing,” Cas said, chewing on another mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, Cas, it is,” Dean said, huffing out a breath and rolling his eyes fondly.

As if to prove his point, Cas started hiccuping a minute later. Dean raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘see, I told you,’ and Cas pouted.

“But it’s so-” he broke off to hiccup, “Good.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Dean said warmly. “Hold your breath for twenty seconds, and then eat a little slower. The pancake isn’t going anywhere.”

Cas gave Dean a sharp look. “Unless you-” he hiccuped again, “steal it from my plate before I can eat it.”

Okay, that was a fair point. Dean definitely had eaten from Cas’ plate before. But this time, he placed his hand on his heart as he said, “I won’t touch your pancakes, you have my word.”

Shoulders bouncing as Cas hiccuped again, Dean watched as Cas took in a deep breath and then held it. He internally counted as well, watching as Cas let the breath out twenty seconds later.

They both waited a beat, then two, and when no more hiccups came, Cas beamed at Dean. “It worked,” he said before moving to take another bite of chocolatey goodness.

They lapsed into comfortable silence as they ate, both of them enjoying their breakfast. Cas broke the moment a few minutes later to say, "I want to eat these pancakes every day for the rest of my life."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dean grinned across the table at Cas. "I'm not sure if we can get out here every day. But we can make it a thing, if you want? Every Sunday that we're at home, you and I can drive down here for breakfast," Dean offered.

Cas nodded eagerly, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I'd love that."

Something warm settled in Dean's veins; seeing Cas so happy and content over something as simple as a stack of pancakes. It was all Dean had wanted. To see Cas smile and to see him enjoy something Dean also liked.

Nodding firmly, decision made, Dean nudged Cas with his foot again. “Finish your pancakes. We’ve got more things to explore today.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, freezing with his fork inches from his lips. Dean had to force himself to look away before he stared at the way Cas’ lips wrapped around the fork.

“You’ll see. I’ll give you a couple options in the car and you can pick whichever one you want,” Dean said, biting down on his own fork just a little too roughly; the tang of metal vibrating along his tooth.

Cas pouted, pointing at Dean with the handle of his fork. “What if I want to know the options now?”

Miming zipping his lips closed, Dean smiled at the fond exasperation that Cas shot his way. The expression instantly melted into a smile again as Cas scooped more marshmallows onto his chocolate pancake.

“A new tradition,” Cas murmured, more to himself than Dean, but Dean heard the fondness in the words and his heart kicked up again in his chest.

God, Dean was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. He genuinely cared about Cas enjoying things, and knowing he’d been able to make Cas smile was a damn good feeling.

By the time they made their way back to the Impala twenty minutes later, both full of chocolatey sweetness, Cas immediately tapped his fingers on Dean’s knee. “What are the options?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean nudged Baby into gear and pulled back out onto the road. “So impatient.”

“Shut up,” Cas huffed, his tone sharply contrasting the happy look on his face.

“Alright. Simple question. Don’t think too hard about it. Ready?”

Cas nodded.

“Aquarium or the zoo?”

Cas’ eyes sparkled bright blue in the late morning sunlight as he made his choice. “Aquarium.”

~

The afternoon sun crept through the Impala windows as they arrived at the aquarium in Kansas City a couple of hours later. Cas had spent the entire drive talking about the evolution of fish and their importance to the earth from creation until now.

It was entirely endearing, hearing Cas talk so animatedly. It made Dean want to pull over; to watch Cas talk as he hung on every word that slipped past Cas’ lips. Instead, he darted his eyes over to the passenger seat as often as he could, watching as Cas occasionally emphasized his point by gesturing with his hands.

Too cute.

Dean turned his eyes back to the road again.

As soon as they’d parked, Cas was out of the car and gravitating towards the entrance before Dean could even open his door. There was an excited gleam in Cas’ eyes, and Dean felt the electric pull as he allowed Cas to lead the way to the ticket booth.

“I wonder if they’ll have any seahorses. Did you know they’re the only animals where the male carries the eggs and undergoes the birthing process?” Cas asked as Dean purchased the tickets.

Dean hummed vaguely in answer, not wanting to take away from Cas’ enthusiasm by admitting he already knew that. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty of seahorses,” he said instead, watching Cas from the corner of his eye as the former angel beamed.

Stepping into the cool air conditioned building, Dean’s eyes caught the entrance sign that indicated which direction each exhibit was located and he nudged Cas towards it. “What do you want to see first?”

Cas’ gaze caught the very first line on the sign and he grinned. “There are sea turtles, Dean. A whole rescue center for them.” Something in Cas’ expression shifted from excited to fond in the blink of an eye; leaving Dean reeling at how expressive Cas was. “It’s nice. That there are people who try to conserve endangered species.”

Dean bumped his shoulder into Cas’, gently directing him towards the sea turtle exhibit. “See? Not all humans are terrible,” he joked.

“No. They’re not,” Cas said, the fondness morphing into something tender as his gaze locked with Dean’s. The moment felt blinding, and Dean had to tear his eyes away before he did something stupid like lean in and kiss Cas right in front of the exhibit.

Instead, Dean shifted the conversation into something lighter. Putting his hand out, he caught Cas’ shoulder and held him back mere feet from the turtles. When Cas gave him a questioning look, Dean moved to tap his nose with his finger. “Take a second. What do you smell?”

Cas tilted his head, sucking in a deep breath before raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Salt water.”

Dean nodded. “Part of the experience is the smell; the salt lingering in the air from the exhibits. Almost makes you feel like you’re right there by the ocean.”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes fluttered shut as he took another long, slow breath. A little smile graced his lips, and the sight was so simplistic and yet so beautiful Dean momentarily lost his breath. Quickly sneaking out his phone, Dean took a picture; with the turtles in the background and Cas with his eyes closed in a peaceful bliss.

“I like it,” Cas said a moment later, eyes fluttering open as he looked over at Dean. “The atmosphere is peaceful.”

Nodding, Dean nudged Cas to start moving again. “I’m glad. Now let’s go see the turtles.”

Entering into the turtles rescue center, they walked up to one of the large tanks where several turtles gracefully swam by. Cas moved forward, gently pressing his palm to the glass. “They’re beautiful,” he murmured.

“Do you want to sit and watch them? It looks like there might be someone coming to feed them if you want to stay for that?” Dean asked.

“I’d love to,” Cas said, letting Dean lead him to a bench just a couple of feet away.

They sat down together, watching as the turtles elegantly moved through the water. It was captivating and mesmerizing; both watching the turtles glide through the water, but also watching Cas watching the turtles.

“Tell me something. About turtles, I mean,” Dean said, bumping Cas’ knee with his own.

“Their species is 110 million years old,” Cas said wistfully, as if he were picturing the moment when sea turtles first came into existence. “They don’t have any teeth,” he said, nodding his head to the tank where several jellyfish and crabs were being fed to the turtles. “Their mouth is made of keratin, like your fingernails, which helps to break down the plants and small animals that they eat.”

“They really are elegant,” Dean said, pressing his shoe up against Cas’ and offering him a smile.

Cas nodded, his eyes darting back and forth between the turtles and Dean. “They were some of my favorite creatures made for the ocean.” Cas lapsed into silence for a few moments, his gaze caught on a cluster of turtles that swam up to the surface to take a breath.

Dean let the pause linger, but instead of watching the turtles, he spent his time watching Cas. He cataloged the serene expression on Cas’ face and committed it to memory. It was a pleased contentment that Dean wanted to see Cas experience over and over again.

After several minutes of watching the turtles swim around and waddle their way up onto a sandy ledge, Cas bumped their knees together. “What’s next?”

“You tell me,” Dean said. “What do you want to see?”

“Fish. Any fish,” he paused, “The fish from that movie you’ve talked about before.”

Dean laughed, tipping his head back and letting a bubbling feeling of happiness wrap around his heart. “You mean Finding Nemo?”

“That’s it. Show me fish from Finding Nemo,” Cas said, getting up from the bench and offering his hand to Dean.

Dean let his fingers wrap around Cas’ wrist as Cas pulled him to his feet, and a spark of longing cascaded down his spine. Before he could linger on the feeling for too long, Cas had let go and was moving towards the nearest sign with arrows to the major exhibits.

“It says fish exhibits are this way,” Cas said, already moving towards the tunnel he’d indicated. Except it wasn’t just a tunnel. A large tank wrapped around the walkway, giving a massive overhead view of several sharks and fishes as they stepped into the passage.

“Wow,” Cas breathed out, tilting his head back so he could watch as a blacktip shark swam over their heads. They paused in the corridor, watching as a school of fish darted overhead just seconds after the shark had passed. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Cas whispered.

There was something about Cas’ earnest awe that made Dean want to surprise him over and over again. “Do you like it?” Dean asked, stepping to the side as a family moved past them.

“I do,” Cas replied, happy and carefree.

And then they were moving again; past the sharks and into several rooms filled with tanks of colorful fish. From sea bass to minnows, and rockfish to flounders; they spent a vast amount of time looking at each exhibit of fish. Dean specifically found tanks filled with clownfish and blue tangs, explaining the plot of Finding Nemo even though he knew Cas already knew the movie.

The exhibits transitioned from fish into invertebrates and other sea creatures; crabs and lobsters, jellyfish and urchins, eels to octopi. Cas was fascinated by every animal they saw.

But Dean’s favorite part was the knowledge Cas shared. At every single exhibit, Dean pointed at a fish and asked, “Tell me something about this one.” And, without fail, Cas instantly told Dean a unique fact or detail about whichever animal Dean had pointed at. Dean stopped looking at the signs next to each tank, instead turning and asking Cas what each species was. No matter how many times Dean asked, Cas gave him the same beautifully fond smile as he detailed every fish they saw.

By the time they’d made their way through all of the tanks, Dean swore he could write and direct his own nature series on sea creatures with all the information Cas had shared.

“Alright, now we’ve seen the fish, are you ready for the best part of any aquarium trip?” Dean asked as they stepped back out into the main entryway of the building.

“There’s something better than seeing the fish?” Cas asked, tilting his head questioningly.

Dean chuckled, nudging Cas towards another corridor while deliberately blocking the signpost from view so that he could surprise Cas. “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Guiding Cas past tanks of coral and kelp, they walked out into a large enclosure. People lingered around a massive pool in the center of the room; children screaming and giggling and the sounds of splashing water echoing around the walls.

“Welcome,” Dean said, gesturing widely with his arms, “To the interactive touchpool.”

“The what?” Cas asked, squinting at Dean in shock.

“Touchpool, Cas. It’s where you can actually put your hand in the water and touch the creatures. I thought you’d like to physically interact with some of the animals. If you want?”

Cas pulled in a sharp breath, his eyes flitting to the large pool before darting back to Dean in awe. “What animals are there?”

“Why don’t we go find out?” Dean said, guiding Cas to the sink area so they could both wash their hands before directing them to an open spot along the wall of the exhibit. Rolling his sleeve up, Dean motioned for Cas to do the same. Then he dipped his fingertips into the water, and watched as Cas copied his motions.

Reaching out, Dean’s fingers brushed over a sea star and he chuckled quietly. “C’mere,” he said, moving his hand through the water until he bumped against Cas. Linking their fingers together, Dean guided their joined hands down until Cas’ palm was pressed against the sea star.

“Oh.” Cas’ surprise hung in the air between them as he leaned his weight into Dean’s side. Pressed together against the rocky edge of the exhibit, Dean swore he never wanted to let go. But Cas deserved to experience what it felt like to touch these creatures. Loosening his hold on Cas’ wrist until he was just barely brushing their hands together, Dean felt Cas’ hand move slowly over the top of the sea star, as if he were memorizing every hard bump of the spines along its body. “It’s not what I expected, even though I know every molecule they’re made of. It feels… leathery,” Cas said, tilting his head carefully as he gently traced his fingers over the starfish for a second time.

Dean gave Cas another minute to interact with the sea star before he slipped his fingers across the back of Cas’ hand and carefully guided him again. “How does this feel?” he asked as he lowered Cas’ hand down gently towards an anemone.

Cas let out another little gasp, hand jerking back slightly at the texture before he touched it again. “Gelatinous. Like jello,” Cas said with a laugh, fingers tracing over the flower-like structure.

Shifting away slightly to put some space between them, Dean moved to pull his hand away, but Cas instantly followed him until he pressed their hands together again. Their fingers interlocked under the rippling water, and Dean felt his breath stutter out of his lungs.

“Show me something else,” Cas said, voice almost drowned out by the loud sounds all around them.

Pulling in a sharp breath, Dean kept their hands linked together as he took a step to the side; waiting for Cas to follow him. He watched carefully as the stingray moved along the floor of the exhibit, and as it approached them, he directed Cas’ hand down until his palm slid down the stingray's back.

“What does the stingray feel like?” Dean asked, words sticking in his throat as the overwhelming sensations sparked between them.

“Smooth. Almost sleek and silky,” Cas said, voice dropping into something breathy in awe. Cas’ hand lingered against the stingray, fingertips stroking over it’s skin before Dean shifted their joined hands down onto the bottom of the tank.

“Let it move over your hand,” Dean said, shifting his hold on Cas until he was gripping around Cas’ wrist.

The stingray rippled over Cas’ hand as it swam along the floor, and Cas let out a startled laugh. “It tickles,” he said, leaning his weight back into Dean again until his hip bumped against Dean’s. They remained that way for several long seconds as the stingray moved over Cas’ hand and continued on its way down the length of the pool.

Dean cast his eyes from the water up to Cas, and their gazes locked for a heart-pounding moment. An unspoken thing passed between them, and Cas momentarily flipped his hand until his palm brushed against Dean’s palm. There was a rush of water that moved around their hands at the motion, but Dean swore he could feel the heat from Cas’ hand radiating up into his.

Movement from a large gray fish broke Dean from the trace and he tipped Cas’ hand palm down again as the fish swam past.

“Fish,” Dean said.

“Sturgeon,” Cas clarified as his fingers grazed along the bony spines of its back until it’s whiskers tickled over the pads of his fingers. “It’s smooth because it doesn't have any scales, but also bony where the cartilage creates these projections.”

Nodding, Dean glided their hands through the water again until they brushed against the sharp roughness of coral.

“It’s different, right? Focusing all your senses on the way something feels,” Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded, letting Deans’ fingers slide into the gaps between his own again. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it,” Cas said, words whispered reverently between them. And then, said even more quietly, “I remember watching the evolution of these creatures; watching one of the fish climb onto the shore and another angel telling me not to step on that fish because there were big plans for it. I wish I’d known then.”

“Known what?” Dean asked, a sudden lump forming in his throat.

“How beautiful fish could be, and what it was truly like to see them and touch them,” Cas responded, letting Dean maneuver them as another stingray floated through the water right underneath their hands.

Dean tilted his head, watching the way Cas’ expressions shifted from amazement to surprise and delight.

“Do you want to stay here for a little while? We can see if there’s any other creatures on the other side of the pool that you can interact with?”

The smile that Cas gave him was so bright Dean swore it rivaled the sun. “I’d like that very much.”

Letting go of Cas’ hand and stepping away from the water felt like Dean had left a part of himself behind on the edge of the pool. But when they’d found a new spot on the opposite end of the exhibit, Cas’ hand instantly found Dean’s underwater.

They spent an hour at the touchpool interacting with the creatures, but Dean wasn’t paying attention to the animals anymore. All he could focus on was the way Cas’ hand fit perfectly with his own, and how Cas kept their fingers intertwined the entire time. Dean never wanted the moment to end; Cas pressed against him, babbling excitedly about how everything felt, as if they had all the time in the world to linger right there at the edge of the glistening water.

~

Dusk had fallen by the time they left the aquarium. Walking back to the car, Dean felt drunk on happiness with the tingling sensation of Cas’ fingers still lingering against his hand. Part of him wanted to reach out and grasp Cas’ hand again, but without the pretense of the water, Dean hesitated and the moment slipped by.

But the day had been good; better than anything Dean could’ve hoped for. In all the time he’d known Cas, Dean swore he’d never seen Cas laugh and smile so much.

By the time they climbed back into the Impala, Cas was hiding a yawn behind his hand, automatically dropping his head to rest against the door.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one day. Ready to find a motel and get some sleep?” Dean asked.

Cas’ tired eyes found Dean’s in the muted light from the streetlight above them, and he gave Dean a soft nod. Despite the exhaustion, Dean could still see the etches of happiness lingering in Cas’ expression. Something churned in Dean’s stomach at the sight and he reached out, resting his hand briefly on Cas’ knee with a gentle squeeze.

“Dean,” Cas said, voice infused with affection.

The tenderness was almost too much to bear, and Dean cast his eyes out to the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Sap,” he muttered back to Cas, catching the little fond smile on Cas’ face at the light teasing.

Once they were back on the road, Cas closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the door again. Dean noticed, and quickly he fumbled one handed to grab one of his spare jackets from the backseat. He nudged it into Cas’ lap, nodding his head towards the door. “Better to use a jacket as a pillow.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmured thickly, scrunching the jacket up and nestling it between his head and the door. Another surge of fondness surged up to wrap around Dean’s lungs, and he forced himself to focus on driving instead of watching Cas drift off to sleep with his head pillowed on his jacket.

It took almost half an hour of driving to find a motel that had any vacancy- why the last 3 were all full was a surprising feat that Dean had rarely encountered- and Dean was tempted to let Cas sleep the rest of the night tucked up in the passenger seat, but he knew from experience that it was more comfortable to drag his exhausted ass into a motel room than to get neck ache from sleeping against the car door. As softly as he could, Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder.

Cas’ eyes immediately fluttered open, Dean’s name on his lips as he catalogued their surroundings with sleepy blinks.

“Hey buddy. Are you ready to get out of the car and get some sleep in a bed?” Dean prompted, keeping his tone gentle in the peaceful darkness of the car.

“Yeah, okay,” Cas said, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

God. The sight was ridiculously cute. Dean’s heart kicked up against his chest, and he forced himself to open the door and step out into the cool night air before he reached out and brushed his hand through Cas’ messy hair. “I’ll go get us checked in.”

He waited until he saw Cas nod before he made his way to the front desk.

A young man looked up as the bell above the door dinged, and the smell of musty haze hit Dean as he stepped into the building.

“Single room with two queens, please,” Dean said, stepping up to the counter.

The man made a face, shaking his head as he dropped a key in front of Dean. “Sorry, dude. I’ve got one room left with one bed. There’s a convention in town and everywhere is booked for miles.”

Well shit. Dean cast his eyes outside to Cas, who was leaning against the hood of the Impala with his shoulders hunched as if he were barely keeping himself standing upright. They were both tired, and searching for another motel when there was a room here felt unnecessarily complicated. They could share a bed, right? It was just for one night. Cas wouldn’t mind, would he?

“Yeah, alright, we’ll take it,” Dean said, lungs suddenly constricting in his chest at the thought of lying inches away from Cas. “Thanks.” Picking up the key, Dean made his way back out to the Impala where Cas had stacked their bags on the curb by his feet.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing,” he said, bending down to grab his overnight bag. “They only had one room left with just one bed.”

“Okay,” Cas said, simple and easy. But was that… was that a smile? Why was Cas smiling about sharing a bed? Surely he wouldn’t want to be crammed up next to Dean after they’d spent all day in each other’s pockets. “I’m following you.”

Shaking his head, Dean hummed vaguely and followed the signs down to their room. Nudging open the door, Dean dumped his bag on the little table by the window. “You can go ahead and take a shower first if you want?”

Cas smiled, tired yet genuine. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Dean gestured towards the bathroom. “Go for it. I’m just gonna check in on Sam and see how he’s doing.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean watched Cas disappear into the bathroom, and his chest ached as the yearning wrapped thickly around his lungs. God. Any hopes Dean had of this trip dampening his feelings had quickly flown out the window. The ache was even deeper now, and the thought of sharing a bed with Cas all night was more than Dean could handle.

Stepping back outside, Dean sucked in a sharp lungful of air. He really was in trouble now. Calling Sam didn’t seem to distract Dean at all; especially because Sam had nothing exciting to report other than the fact he’d been doing some inventory work around the bunker.

A cold shower would help to tamper down the yearning… well, it would’ve if Dean hadn’t seen Cas emerge from the bathroom in a soft pair of pajama pants and one of Dean’s old tshirts that he’d given to Cas a couple months ago.

Shit. Dean was well and truly smitten.

Cas tugged the blankets around himself as he curled up on the left side of the bed, and Dean felt his heart lurch in his chest. Soft. That was the best word he could find to describe how Cas looked. Hair still damp and flopped across his forehead with a faded maroon shirt highlighting Cas’ tan. The sleepy look in Cas’ eyes was enough to have Dean melting into the floor.

“I’ll be- uh, be right back,” Dean said, locking himself into the bathroom as his heart thundered against his ribs.

There was no escaping the feeling.

By the time Dean made his way back into the room, he expected Cas to be asleep. But instead he was propped up against the headboard and he smiled at Dean the second he saw him. Dean hesitated for a moment at the edge of the bed, before pulling back the covers and climbing in on the other side.

Cas instantly shifted so he was facing Dean, offering him another tired smile. “Today was good. Really good,” he murmured quietly.

Dean felt himself relax into the mattress; tilting until he was lying face to face with Cas. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas replied. They lapsed into silence for a few moments before Cas admitted, “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in the faint light coming from the single lamp on Cas’ side of the bed, waiting for Cas to clarify what he meant.

“That the simple things in life could be so beautiful,” Cas said after a moment, as if he’d been looking for the right words to describe what he was feeling. “I don’t know what…” Cas paused, tilting his head until his cheek was pressed into the pillow. “I’ve never really known what happiness is. But I think this is what it looks like; what it feels like.”

The words hovered between them, heavy in their confession and yet light in their tone.

“You’re happy?” Dean whispered, barely able to get his voice to escape past his lips.

Cas smiled, gummy and soft, and it was the most beautiful smile Dean had ever seen. “Really, really happy,” Cas said, fingers tugging lightly at the blanket he’d wrapped himself in.

The words settled like honey in Dean’s veins, and he felt himself smile right back at Cas. God, why was he feeling so sappy and why did he want to do anything to keep that smile on Cas’ face?

“Wanna talk about plans for tomorrow? I’ve got another idea you might enjoy that’s on the way back home,” Dean said. The idea had wiggled its way into his head while he’d been brushing his teeth, and he had a feeling it would make Cas smile even more when he suggested it.

“Yeah?” Cas asked, echoing the same tone Dean had used just a couple minutes ago.

“Botanical garden. There’s one on the other side of Kansas City that’s famous for blooming flowers this time of year. I thought you might like to see some of the beauty of nature,” Dean said.

A smitten look crossed Cas’ face; his eyes softening into something extremely tender and affectionate. And then he was leaning across the pillow into Dean’s space. When their lips met, it was the softest brush Dean had ever felt in his life.

Cas pulled back with a little sigh of an exhale, and then dove back in to press their mouths together again. This kiss was even warmer and slower; Cas pressing his body against Dean and Dean wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist to coax him closer.

They broke the kiss with little gasps before closing the gap to kiss again. Cas’ nose brushed against Dean’s, nuzzling delicately, before his fingertips grazed along Dean’s jaw.

Dean’s heart ached in his chest as Cas peppered several quick butterfly pecks against his lips before lingering on the next kiss. Everything seemed to slow down around them, until all of Dean’s senses were overwhelmed with the touch and taste of Cas.

Somehow, Dean had always pictured that kissing Cas would be like an electrical storm; crackling and fizzling and bursting with desperation to make things deeper. But this… this was the most delicate and romantic kiss Dean had ever experienced in his life. Soft and simple; just gentle caresses of their lips melding together with little happy hums.

Cas tilted his head and Dean followed the movement, sliding his hand under the hem of Cas’ tshirt until he was tracing little patterns along Cas’ hip. Each kiss felt like Dean was going to melt into the mattress as Cas huffed a tiny breath against his cheek before kissing him again.

God.

It was so good Dean just couldn’t get enough.

When Cas pulled back with a stuttering breath, Dean chased him, free hand coming up to cup Cas’ cheek as he brushed their noses together again before seeking out Cas’ lips in another kiss.

Quiet little pleased sounds filled the air with the tickle of lips teasing against each other. Cas’ hands had found their way into Dean’s hair, and Dean had all but tugged Cas forwards until he was lying across Dean’s chest. Fast kisses morphed into slow tangible dances as their mouths learned what it felt like to be slotted together.

By the time Dean finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Cas’, he was absolutely breathless and his heart was milliseconds from catapulting out of his chest with how fast it was beating.

“What was that for?” Dean whispered, tracing his fingertips from Cas’ hip to the small of his back.

“Because you’re absolutely… Dean, you’re just… indescribable,” Cas murmured, lips ghosting over Dean’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire existence.”

Something in Dean’s chest burned warm and pleasant through his veins, lighting his heart on fire. This whole time, Cas had felt the same way he did. God. He’d have kissed Cas breathless over those chocolate pancakes had he known that Cas wanted it, too.

Cas tucked himself more comfortably against his side, and Dean looped his arms loosely around Cas’ back.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, breath tickling along Dean’s neck.

“Hm?” Dean hummed quietly.

“Kiss me again.”

This time it was just sleepy little brushes; lips ever-so-softly coming together in chaste touches as they kissed. When Cas pulled back, he muttered something about the botanical gardens and how happy he was. The words were muffled into the collar of Dean’s shirt, and Dean felt the shift as Cas drifted off to sleep in his arms.

When sleep finally caught up to Dean after he spent several long minutes committing this perfect day to his memory, it was with the taste of Cas still lingering against his lips and the feel of Cas’ body pressed against his own.

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

Dean goes snowboarding and gets a concussion.

This is, of course, after Sam tells him he should really be wearing a helmet and after Sam suggests they try and easier slope and after Sam pleads with him to at least not try any jumps or tricks.

Forty-five seconds into their first slope, Sam finds Dean staring up at the sky complaining about a pounding headache. His train of thought also seems to be more jumbled than a jigsaw puzzle, because Dean begins to babble at him while Sam helps him down the rest of the slope to find the ski patrol.

Dean tells Sam some story three times about emailing his college professor a meme once, and asks Sam why he’s wearing an orange hat at least four times.

Mildly worrying, to say the least

They’re about to knock on the door to the ski patrol and Dean gasps loudly.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve gotta gotta call Cas.”

“Your roommate? Okay.”

Dean clutches onto Sam’s jacket tightly and forces him to look him in the eyes.

“Tell him I’m not gonna make it to our date tonight, okay?”

Sam stares in silence for a few seconds, processing new information. Sure, Dean talks about his roommate a lot, but Sam hadn’t realized. . .

“You got it, Dean.”

While Dean is being looked over by the ski patrol, Sam steps outside and pulls a phone number from Dean’s phone and makes a call.

“Hello?”

“Is this Cas?”

“Yes. . . and who is this?”

“Sam. Dean’s brother? We’ve met a couple of times.”

“Right! Yes.”

“Uh, look - Dean just got a concussion while snowboarding, but ski patrol says it’s probably a mild one -“

“Is he alright?”

“He will be - uh - Dean wanted me to call you and tell you. . . he’s not going to make it to your date tonight.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“I’m sure he was looking forward to it -“

“- we didn’t have a date tonight.”

Sam clears his throat.

“Oh, well he probably got the day mixed-up because of his concussion.”

More silence, and then -

“We’ve never had a date.”

“Oh. Okay, sorry to bother you about it, then.”

“Did he. . . seem happy about it?”

Sam rubs at his forehead.

“I mean- he seemed really concerned that he was going to miss it.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. Well, good to talk to you again, Cas. I gotta go.”

And Sam hangs up.

*

One week later, Sam gets a text from Dean.

What the FUCK did you tell Cas?

A text from Cas a few moments later.

We kissed.

Sam sends Dean a “You’re welcome” and shuts off his phone for the rest of the day.

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - The Wedding

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 14,000 (you were warned lol)

Summary: The big day has finally arrived for Dean and Y/N.

Warnings: Nothing but the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. Oh, and smut. Because it’s me lol. Swearing, Smut: Dirty talk, Oral sex (Female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people).

Music: Thank You by Led Zeppelin/instrumental cover by Vitamin String Quartet (wedding processional scene), Dance Me To The End Of Love by The Civil Wars (Dean and Y/N’s first dance scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: I really hope you all love this!!! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​.

Y/N blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room as the late morning sun streamed in through the windows. Turning onto her back, she ran her hands over her face, willing herself to wake up. She turned her head to the side, sighing as she didn’t see her fiancé next to her. He was no doubt also waking up at that point, in his childhood home.

She smiled as she stared up at the ceiling, already anticipating what the rest of the day was going to be like for her and for him. She couldn’t wait to see him later, her heart already longing for him since the previous night after they separated.

Now, after months and months of planning, the big day had finally arrived.

Their wedding day.

Y/N threw the covers back, a kick in her step as she got up and walked into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and freshened up, and then left to go down to the kitchen, smelling the aromas of breakfast wafting up the stairs. She smiled as she walked in, seeing Charlie at the stove, scrambling eggs and frying bacon. The kitchen island had a spread of bagels, cream cheese, toast, jams, peanut butter and a box of Coco Puffs. As Charlie cooked, she looked up and smiled when she saw her come in.

“Morning, bride!” Her cheery exclaim made Y/N laugh as she walked over, hugging her.

Charlie, Meg, Jill and Y/N’s nieces had spent the night at the house, where they’d all be getting everything prepped before they went over to the venue. They were getting ready in the big ranch house, one room dedicated to them as another was for Dean and the groomsmen.

“Morning. This all looks amazing,” Y/N sighed, as her eyes glided over all the food.

“Figured you better eat a big breakfast because who knows when we’re going to eat next,” Charlie said, plating the eggs and bacon from the pans.

“This is true,” Y/N agreed as she sat on one of the stools at the island.

Meg and Jill came down, dressed in casual t-shirts and jeans, Mia in Jill’s arms as Evie took the stairs down carefully in front of her.

“Aunty Y/N!” she yelled as ran over, trying desperately to hop into Y/N’s lap. She reached down and pulled her up, a fake sluggish groan leaving her.

“You’re growing too fast, kiddo,” Y/N joked, kissing the top of Evie’s head.

Jill sat next to her and put Mia on her lap, putting some peanut butter on toast for her. Mia frowned; her eyes suddenly glowing as she looked at the box of Coco Puffs.

“Puffs,” she said, pointing to the box.

“Mia,” Jill warned, giving her a stern look. “You can’t eat only Coco Puffs for breakfast.”

“Can I have some mommy?” Evie asked, voice as sweet as honey, thinking she could wrap her mom around her finger.

Jill, unrelenting in her discipline, looked between her daughters. “No.”

They both pouted, and Jill feared they were both about to throw tantrums, but luckily, they were in the clear as they both sulked.

“Hey,” Y/N whispered in Evie’s ear. She reached into her own plate and took a small piece of bacon, offering it to the little girl. “Want some?”

Evie nodded enthusiastically, biting into the piece. She chewed it and smiled.

“Good, huh?” Y/N asked, smiling.

Evie kept nodding, smiling up at her aunt. “Do you like bacon, aunty Y/N?”

“I do, but you know who loves it even more?” Y/N said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Who?” Evie looked at her with big, curious eyes as she waited for an answer.

“Uncle Dean,” Y/N stated, smiling.

The little girl’s smile widened as she took a little more of the bacon, as everyone continued to eat around the island.

Y/N smiled as she continued eating, wondering what her beloved fiancé and soon to be husband was doing at that moment.

Dean lifted the coffee mug to his lips, taking a slow sip of the dark liquid. He breathed in, letting out a peaceful exhale as he sat down on the steps of the back porch at his childhood home. He smiled as he looked around the yard, remembering all the great times he and his family had there.

He let out a small huff as a smirk grew on his face, still not quite believing what day was upon him. He was getting married today. Him. If someone had told him years ago that he was going to meet the most incredible woman and get married, he would’ve laughed in their face. He was with someone else and marriage wasn’t on the cards. Then Y/N came and changed everything he thought to be true, showing him what was real. She was real.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced up and smiled as his mom sat down next to him, a coffee mug of her own in hand.

“Doing okay?” she asked, smiling softly.

“So far, yeah,” he replied, with a small nod.

“Good,” she sighed, lifting her hand and rubbing his shoulder. “I know I don’t have to worry about this, but make sure you eat properly today, okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her and turned his head to look back at the garden. “Mom?”

Mary took a sip of her coffee before she turned to him. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“Did you… did you ever think I’d get here?” he asked, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

She smiled, knowing that was probably what his thought process had been all morning.

“Yeah, I did. I really did,” she replied, softly. “I knew it would take time… but I knew that when she got here, whoever she was, was going to knock you out.”

He laughed, nodding. “She really did.”

“I’m so glad you found her,” Mary said, quietly.

“I love her so damn much,” he whispered, his eyes closing as small doubts started to filter in. “I can’t screw this up.”

Mary shook her head, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she was there. “You won’t.”

Leaning over, she wrapped her arm around him and hugged him, tightly. He sighed, willing the doubts to leave his mind. He didn’t need them today.

“Thanks, mom,” he said, as they pulled away from each other.

“You’re welcome.” She moved in and kissed his cheek, quickly standing up from the steps. “Alright, we better eat and get this day rolling!”

He chuckled as he stood, wrapping his arm around her as they walked into the house.

He was more than ready to get on with the day and finally see Y/N.

Y/N’s fingers glided over the fabric; her smile radiant as she admired the wedding dress hanging up on the door in front of her. Pulling her silk robe tighter around her body, she stepped back to look at the full silhouette, a giddiness settling deep within her belly. She couldn’t believe that in just a couple short hours she was going to be marrying Dean, in front of all their friends and family.

She was so nervous she felt like she could throw up. She wasn’t having cold feet by any means, but her nerves came from the fact that something could go wrong, and she wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening. What if Dean changed his mind? She knew he loved her unconditionally and there was no rational thought behind what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help that her mind was an endless fount of doubt in that moment.

However, as she looked around the room she was about to get ready in, seeing her bridesmaids fixing some last-minute things, her mom looking after her nieces and all of the hair and make-up spread out on a table, the worries gave way to hope. Hope that everything was going to be fine.

“Y/N, we’re ready for you,” one of the make-up artists said, smiling at her.

Smiling back, she sat down in her chair in front of the mirror, letting out a deep breath as she looked at her reflection. She glanced to the side, seeing Charlie come up behind her as the woman doing her make-up started.

“How are you? Can I get you anything?” Charlie asked, taking Y/N’s hand in hers.

She shook her head, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “No, I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, kissing Y/N’s head.

Y/N smiled as she retreated, helping Jill tie the ribbons around the bridesmaids’ bouquets. Her eyes caught Meg coming into the room, shaking her head as she carried her dress bag and shoes, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. She had gone back to her apartment because like an idiot she had forgotten her heels and had come to the venue with Cas.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late! Cas drives so fu-” she started, rushing over to Y/N and kissed her cheek, biting her lip as she was about to swear. She glanced back at Evie and Mia in the room, sighing in relief that they were preoccupied with their grandmother. “So freaking slow.”

Y/N laughed, waving her off. “You’re fine, we’ve still got plenty of time.”

“Okay, good,” Meg sighed, walking into the little bathroom attached to the room. A few minutes later, she emerged in her light pink silk robe, the same as Jill, Eileen and Charlie’s.

The make-up artist dabbed foundation on Y/N’s face, as Meg walked over and handed her a glass of water.

“I saw the guys getting ready, too,” Meg said, sitting down in the chair next to Y/N, as the other hair and make-up artist started on her make-up too. “Dean said to tell you not to worry so much and have fun.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she thought about her soon to be husband being worried about the fact that she must be unnecessarily nervous.

“Is he okay?” she asked, closing her eyes as the woman started on her eye make-up.

“He is,” Meg replied, sipping her own water. “More than okay, just can’t wait to see you. He’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you in the dress.”

As they completed Y/N’s look, her hair in an intricate bun and a few locks framing her face, she stood up and faced her bridesmaids, smiling as they all hugged and stood in a circle. Jill picked up the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket on the table, popping it open. She poured some into six glasses, their mom getting up from the armchair and joining them. They each took a glass and faced Y/N, who smiled brightly as Jill wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“A toast to my baby sister on her wedding day… I’m keeping this short and saving most of it for my matron of honor speech, but I love you so much and I’m so happy for you, that you found the perfect person to share your life with,” Jill said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you,” Y/N said, hugging Jill tight.

“To Y/N!” they all said, clinking their glasses together. They all sipped the sparkling liquid, sitting back down to relax a little before they had to put their dresses on.

Y/N sighed as she sat down, humming as she felt her mom rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Just relax,” Meredith said, smiling.

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N whispered, looking up at her mother.

“Are you alright?” Meredith asked, softly.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Y/N replied, nodding. “I just can’t believe I’m finally here.” A smile tugged at her lips, butterflies erupting in her stomach as flashes of her life so far with Dean came to her.

“I still can’t ever forget you gushing about him when we went for drinks after work, only a few weeks into being in Lawrence,” Charlie chimed in, beaming as she took sips of her champagne.

“God, that somehow feels like it was forever ago and like it was yesterday at the same time,” Y/N stated, thinking back on that night. The one that solidified that there was something more between her and Dean than just friendship.

Evie came up to Y/N and climbed into her lap, wanting to sit with her aunt. She kissed the little girl’s head and stroked her soft hair, looking adorable in her little flower girl dress.

“Okay, what’s your favorite thing about Dean?” Meg asked, smirking.

Y/N glared at her playfully, shaking her head as she knew what her friend was thinking. She only thought about it for a second, knowing without a doubt what her favorite thing about Dean was.

“His heart,” she replied, simply. “His heart is so big, sometimes I think he doesn’t know what to do with all that love he’s got in there. He just cares about everyone close to him so much, and he’s always willing to help someone out. And… the way he cares about me, no one’s ever made me feel the way he does.”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Charlie sighed, already getting teary. “I’m just so glad he has someone like you. I can’t even imagine where he’d be if you never came into his life.”

“Life definitely changed for the better, that’s for sure,” Y/N said, smiling.

“For all of us,” Meg added, clinking her glass with Charlie and Eileen’s.

“I’ll drink to that,” Eileen signed, winking at Y/N.

“Our oldest friend is marrying our best friend.” Charlie got up and walked over to Y/N, hugging her.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” little Evie’s voice interrupted, as she looked at Jill from Y/N’s lap.

“Mom, can you take them to get something to eat?” Jill asked Meredith, as she was still in her robe.

“Of course,” Meredith replied, taking Evie’s hand as she hopped off Y/N. She picked up Mia who had been playing with her dolls and led them to the door.

“Meredith,” Eileen called out, getting the older woman’s attention. “Mary’s got Elliot with her in the dining hall, so you can join them there.”

“Perfect, thanks Eileen,” Meredith said, smiling at her before she took the girls out of the room.

Y/N stood up from the chair and walked across the room, looking out the window with her champagne glass in hand. The girls looked at her knowingly, giving her a little space before they had to start getting into the dresses. Taking out the folded paper from her bra, she opened it, her eyes scanning over the words she had written as vows to Dean. She smiled as she thought about how she would get to say them soon, about how he would say his and they would be united.

She couldn’t wait to see him and finally be his forever.

Dean’s hands shook as his fingers nimbly buttoned up his crisp white shirt. Letting out a large exhale, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. His mind started becoming more and more clouded with worries as the time got closer to the ceremony, his self-deprecating thoughts circling around and causing him to doubt everything. He had told Meg when she left to join Y/N and the other bridesmaids to tell his soon-to-be wife not to worry about anything, and yet here he was, doing the exact same thing.

His groomsmen, Benny, Cas, Brian (who he had gotten to know really well and wanted him to be part of the ceremony to make things special for Y/N), and Sam who was his best man, were all dressed in their suits, laughing and chatting in the main room. He had told them to give him a minute, needing some time to himself as he got dressed. It was less than an hour now until he and Y/N finally became husband and wife. That thought made his heart soar but also made his stomach flip with nerves. What if he said or did something and he ruined everything? What if he got up to the altar and she didn’t walk down the aisle?

A knock on the door of the bathroom broke him from his negative thoughts. He tucked his shirt into his pants neatly, and gave a quick “yeah” as a signal for the person to come in.

“You decent?” he heard Sam ask, as the door opened slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, gruffly as he fixed his shirt in the mirror.

Sam opened the door and came in, immediately sensing something was wrong with the expression on Dean’s face.

“You alright?” he asked, softly, not wanting anyone in the other room to hear them.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Not really.”

“What’s going on?” Sam went into protective mode, ready to be there for Dean for whatever he wanted to say or needed at that moment.

“Nothing major, Sammy,” Dean sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. “Just can't get past the thoughts in my head.”

“Hey, look at me,” Sam said, turning Dean towards him and looking directly at him as he put his hands on shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever you’re thinking right now, none of it is going to happen. You’re going to be out there soon, and you’re going to marry Y/N and everything is going to work out the way it’s meant to.”

“Less than an hour,” Dean whispered. Shaking his head, he let out a small, bitter chuckle. “Still time for her to run.”

“She’s not going to run,” Sam told him, a confident smile on his face as he shook his head. “Just think about everything you’ve been through together and remember how much you love her. How much she loves you. Remember that and everything will be fine.”

Dean breathed in deep, and as he let it out, a smile came to his face knowing that Sam was right. He was letting those negative thoughts win again, and he was done letting them control him. It was his wedding day, a day he never thought he’d get to see, but couldn’t have been more excited to finally have. He couldn’t wait to see Y/N in her dress and to finally be hers forever.

“You’re right,” he said, nodding at his little brother. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“No problem,” Sam said, smiling. “So… shall we?” He gestured towards the other room, knowing time was ticking away and they needed to start moving.

“Yeah.” Dean gave him a confident nod, a wide grin gracing his face as he pushed away the self-deprecation and concentrated on Y/N and what was going to happen soon.

They walked into the other room that was occupied by his side of the wedding party, seeing them sitting around, empty tumbler glasses waiting on the table with a bottle of his favorite whiskey.

“There he is, man of the hour,” Benny said, his cheery Southern accent filling the room. He got up and picked up the bottle, cracking it open. Pouring a couple of fingers into each glass, he handed them over to each of the groomsmen and Dean.

“I’m going to save most of what I want to say in my speech later, but…” Sam started as he turned to his older brother. “I’m so happy for you, man, that you found the woman you’ve been waiting for.”

“To Dean!” They all cheered and clinked their tumblers together, drinking the amber liquid.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said, tapping his little brother on the shoulder.

The door to the room opened, and Dean looked to his right, seeing his father and Y/N’s walk in. He gulped nervously as David walked over to him, a small smile on his face.

“How are you, sir?” Dean asked, offering his hand to shake.

“Good, but I think I should be asking you that,” David replied, shaking his hand with a small laugh.

“Better now.” Dean didn’t add anything else, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was having doubts just a few minutes before. Taking a sip of his whiskey, Dean looked up at David, a small, nervous smile on his face.

“Sir, I… I wanted to thank you. For trusting me with Y/N. I promise you that I’ll always take care of her,” he told David, his voice firm with conviction.

David smiled, nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He walked forward, putting his arms around Dean into a hug, one that solidified the bond between their families. Pulling away, they smiled at each other before David stepped back, leaving Dean to finish getting ready.

“Hey,” Sam got his attention as he walked over. “I’m just going to quickly check in on Elliot and then see Eileen. Are you going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Sammy,” Dean stated, smirking. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded and retreated back, walking across the room and shutting the door behind him.

Dean looked at himself in the mirror by the window, trying to tie his bowtie properly. He gave it a few tries, growling in frustration as he couldn’t get it right, his hands started to shake again.

“Here, let me,” he heard his dad say, as he walked over and turned Dean towards him.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean sighed, lifting his head so John could see properly.

“No problem.” John smiled as he started tying the bowtie for Dean. “I remember doing this for you for prom.”

Dean huffed a small laugh, lifting an eyebrow. “Bet you never thought you’d be doing it for my wedding.”

John smiled, knowingly. “I did think I’d be doing it. I always knew you’d get here.”

He fixed the bowtie and then folded the collar back down. “All done.”

He picked up Dean’s suit jacket and held it up, pulling it up onto his shoulders once he put his arms through. Dean fixed it to fit properly on his shoulders, frowning a little as it felt weird to be wearing a suit.

“It’s just for a few hours,” John said, knowing what his son was thinking by the expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, as he pinned the small flowers to the lapel of his suit.

“Dean,” John said, getting his son’s attention. Taking out a small box from his pants pocket, he handed it over to his son, a proud smile on his face. “I have something for you.”

With a confused look on his face, Dean took the box from his dad. Opening it, his eyes widened as he saw a pair of old, silver cufflinks sitting in there, immediately recognizing them.

“Grandpa’s,” he whispered, breathing heavily as a wave of emotion came over him.

“He’d want you to have them,” John said, smiling as he took them from Dean, taking them out and putting the box back in his pocket. He lifted Dean’s left hand and attached them to the end of the sleeve, repeating the action on the other.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean said, smiling.

John shook his head, pulling Dean into a tight hug. “You don’t have to ever thank me, Dean. I’m so proud of you.”

The younger Winchester’s eyes closed, his smile growing as he hugged his father. All his life, he had looked up to his dad, wanting to be just like him. While things had happened in the past and he saw a different side to him, Dean knew his dad worked hard to give them a life they deserved, one filled with joy and laughter, all while overcoming obstacles along the way and becoming a stronger unit because of it. He knew that despite some troubles, he saw a good and loving marriage between his parents, and one he hoped he would have with Y/N.

Y/N stepped into her dress, standing up straight as Charlie and Jill pulled it up and slipped the straps over her arms. The sheer low cut back came down to a zip and button closure, which Jill did for her, smiling over her shoulder. Y/N fixed the front, making sure the low front was secure over her breasts, smoothing her hands down the front of the dress. She caught Mary’s eyes through the mirror as she stood behind her with Elliot, smiling at her through teary eyes. Meredith came over, the veil carefully cradled in her arms as she stood behind Y/N. She watched as her mom clipped the veil into her hair just above her bun, fluffing it to fall delicately over the silhouette of her dress. Her mom had a few tears fall down her face, and Y/N was trying desperately not to cry in that moment.

“You look so beautiful,” Meredith choked out, looking at her younger daughter.

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N said, her voice shaking.

“Okay, no crying yet, we can’t ruin our make-up,” Charlie added, wiping lightly under her eyes, avoiding her make-up.

Everyone laughed and tried to take breaths, making sure they didn’t have to re-do any of their make-up. Y/N smiled as she clipped on her grandmother’s silver bracelet to her wrist, and put on the diamond drop earrings, completing the look. She spied little Evie coming up next to her, looking at her with big, round eyes full of wonder.

“Aunty Y/N, you look like a princess,” she said, smiling up at her aunt.

Y/N laughed a little as she bent down slightly, kissing her head. “Thank you, honey. You look so beautiful.”

Evie blushed as she giggled, which melted Y/N’s heart even more. She and Mia had matching off-white flower girl dresses with pastel pink sashes around the waist tied into bows at the back, both complete with matching headbands and shoes. As Y/N adjusted the front of her dress, a knock at the door alerted everyone.

Eileen opened the door, smiling as Sam walked in and kissed her, quickly. “Everything okay with Elliot?”

“Yeah, he’s great,” she replied, looking up at him as she bounced their son lightly in her arms. A smile spread across her face as she nodded towards Y/N. “Turn around.”

Sam turned, suddenly in awe as he looked at his soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Y/N. Oh my god.”

Y/N laughed, twirling the dress slightly. “Think Dean will like it?”

“Like? He’s going to lose his mind,” Sam replied, shaking his head as he beamed at her.

“How is he?” she asked, a longing in the tone of her voice. She couldn’t wait to see him.

“He’s good,” Sam replied, a little too quickly. She knew something was wrong.

“He’s freaking out.” It wasn’t a question considering she knew how Dean’s mind worked.

“He was, but I talked him down. He’s good now, I swear,” Sam promised, firmly.

She nodded but she knew she needed to do something, somehow, to convince him that things were okay and to not freak out.

“Mom, can you hand me that note pad and a pen,” Y/N said, gesturing to the items she wanted on the table in the far corner.

Meredith brought them over, and Y/N immediately scribbled something on it, quickly. Tearing the page off, she folded it and handed it over to Sam.

“Give him that when you get to the altar, okay?” she asked, smiling.

“Sure thing,” he replied, holding it securely in his hand. “We’re going to head out there.”

“See you soon.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, more than ready to go out there and marry the man of her dreams.

“See you soon,” he repeated, winking at her.

He turned his mom and offered his arm to her, Mary taking it immediately with her own wink at Y/N. He took Elliot from Eileen and carried him in his other, all of them leaving the room and shutting the door, lightly.

Y/N smiled as she turned back to the mirror, taking in her full appearance. It was almost time and she couldn’t be happier.

John, Mary, Sam and Dean sat under the trees, in the front row of chairs all lined up and starting to be filled as the guests arrived. Elliot sat in Mary’s lap, looking around curiously at everything. They all looked out past the arch covered in flowers for Dean and Y/N to stand under, past the trees and saw the lake, the sun shining off the surface of the water on the most beautiful and perfect day they could’ve hoped for the wedding. As he sat with his family, Dean couldn’t help but think about all the memories the Winchesters had made there.

He stood up from the chair, watching as people arrived. He saw Jody and the girls arrive, smiling brightly at them. She blew him a kiss and he laughed, blowing one back. After them, he spotted Donna, her blonde locks blowing slightly in the breeze. She saw him, circled her finger in the air to gesture to the suit, and mouthed a “nice!”. He smirked as he winked at her, causing her to laugh before she sat down next to Jody. He looked next to him, seeing Sam looking down at his watch.

“Five minutes,” he said, looking up at Dean.

Dean let out a breath, nodding. “Guess we better stand.”

“Don’t worry, honey. Everything’s going to be great,” Mary said, quickly standing up and kissing his cheek. She held Elliot in her arms, making sure he was sitting in her lap properly as she took her seat again.

Dean stood up under the arch with the female officiant who was already there, Sam standing next to Dean as the groomsmen stood off to the side near the trees, waiting for the bridesmaids. Remembering what Y/N had given him, Sam reached into his pocket and took out the note, nudging Dean.

“I saw Y/N earlier, asked me to give you this,” he whispered, handing over the paper.

Taking it, Dean opened the paper. He had calmed down considerably since Sam spoke to him in the dressing room, but when he read the words on the paper in Y/N’s pretty handwriting, he felt the weight completely lift off his chest.

Don’t be scared.

I love you.

He felt tears prick his eyes, but he cleared his throat and folded the paper into his pants pocket, blinking rapidly to stop them from flowing. Seeing those words was exactly what he needed at that moment.

He was more ready than he ever was to get the show on the road.

Y/N, Jill, David and Meredith walked up the gravel path, the girls behind them as they held Y/N’s dress up off the ground as she walked. She was doing considerably well in her sparkly, pointed-toe heels, but she knew by the time the reception rolled around she would be taking them off. She didn’t care, however, as she was just more than ready to see her man.

“I haven’t told you yet, but-” David whispered, leaning into her. “You look so beautiful, honey.”

“Thanks, dad,” she whispered back, kissing his cheek.

They made it to the end of the path, hidden behind the trees so that no one would see them.

Meredith turned to Y/N, cupping her face in her hands, her eyes blurry with tears. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you, too, mom,” Y/N choked out, blinking to keep her tears at bay.

They kissed each other’s cheeks and hugged, Meredith quickly walking down to the clearing, down the aisle and taking her seat in the front row on Y/N’s side. She looked at Dean and smiled, getting a smile back from him as he waited.

Y/N watched as Cas, Benny and Brian walked over to them, as they stood next to their respective bridesmaid. Cas took Charlie’s arm, Benny took Meg’s and Brian took Eileen’s as they lined up in front of Jill, Evie and Mia. Each of the bridesmaids stood with their bouquet of Oriental Lilies, while her nieces had their little baskets filled with light pink rose petals, the only roses Y/N had for the wedding. She stood behind them, as David took his place on her right.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at her.

“So ready,” she replied, smiling wide. She laughed a little, shaking her head. “Just please, don’t let me fall.”

“Never,” he whispered, kissing her temple. Offering his arm, Y/N wrapped her right one around, holding her bouquet of Calla Lilies tight in her left hand.

Before she knew it, the music started from the speaker off to the side of the altar, and it was show time. Taking a deep breath in, she released it as she watched the bridal party walk out, ready for her turn down the aisle.

The soft violin started from the hidden speaker, the tune immediately recognizable to Dean as Thank You by Led Zeppelin, but instrumental.

He felt all his emotions beginning to rise to the surface, but he tried to keep himself calm as he watched the bridal party come down the aisle. Cas and Charlie were first, both sharing a smile with him. Cas took his place next to Sam, as Charlie couldn’t resist coming up and quickly hugging Dean, kissing his cheek. Benny and Meg walked in behind them, and he fist bumped his other best friend and work partner before he took his place next to Cas. Brian and Eileen followed and stood at their respective sides, waiting for the rest of the party.

Dean watched as Jill walked down, winking at him as she walked over to the left side, standing in front of Charlie. All the guests admired and ‘awed’ at Evie and Mia, as they dropped the petals from their little baskets onto the covered ground. They went and sat down with Meredith, after having done their duty as flower girls.

The music began to soar as Y/N held onto her father’s arm tightly, walking slowly with him towards the aisle. She looked at her father, giving him a little nod to let him know she was ready. She felt tears collect in her eyes as she started walking, seeing everyone standing and smiling at her. Everyone who was special to them was there, and she was so grateful.

Just as the tempo changed, Dean felt a catch in his throat as he finally saw Y/N, on the arm of her father. He didn’t think he could be as speechless as he was at that moment. Time completely stood still, as all he could see was her. He had seen Y/N dressed up several times, on so many occasions that were special to them, where she had looked absolutely beautiful. However, the vision of her gliding towards him like an angel, with the most radiant smile on her face, was an image that would stay with him until the day he took his last breath. He was overwhelmed, willing himself to keep composure, but he knew he was failing as a tear slipped down her face.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tears threatening to fall down her face as she saw Dean looking at her. At that moment, she saw no one else. He looked so incredibly handsome in his suit, but his face, with a smile of his own and his eyes glassy, was the most beautiful sight she could have seen. As she got closer, she saw a tear roll down his right cheek, and she felt one of her own escape, as overcome by this moment as he was.

Y/N stopped at the end of the aisle, as Dean stepped towards her. They looked into each other’s eyes, both of them smiling as their vision blurred behind unshed tears. She turned to her dad and kissed his cheek, his own smile speaking volumes as he took her hand and placed it in Dean’s, giving him a small nod that held the weight of the moment. They continued to look at each other as David sat down with Meredith, who was already a mess of emotions.

Dean and Y/N stepped closer to the officiant, turning to face each other as they held hands. He shook his head, his eyes gliding up her dress and looking into hers, a small smile on his face as he tried to let her know with a look how beautiful she was, as words were something he couldn’t manage in that moment. He had to save his voice for his vows, which were going to be even more nerve-wracking now. The music turned off and the officiant, Cindy, looked between them, ready to start the ceremony. The interpreter stood off to the side, closer to Eileen so that she could see properly. Cindy was a short woman with greying hair, thick black glasses and the sunniest personality they both had ever seen, smiling as she began the ceremony.

“Dearly beloved, we gathered here today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester.”

Dean breathed deeply, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s as did the same. Cindy went on to see a few things she learnt about them as a couple as she got to know them before this day, both of them beaming at each other as she spoke.

“So, let’s get these two married, shall we?” she asked, laughing.

Everyone joined in, with cheers and claps all around, including the bridal party behind Dean and Y/N.

“Dean and Y/N have each prepared their own vows which they’ll share now, before I ask them a couple of questions. Y/N, why don’t you go first,” Cindy said, looking at her.

Y/N nodded, turning slightly and taking the piece of paper that Jill handed to her. She opened it and looked at Dean, smiling at him as he looked at her intently. She looked down at her words, tears threatening to fall.

“Dean.” She glanced at him again quickly, before concentrating on her words, not wanting to mess up. “For a long time, I wondered if I’d ever find someone who I could truly be myself with. Someone who would protect me and never hurt me, someone who would never let me fall. Someone who would challenge me. Someone who would love me unconditionally, without any selfish gain. For a moment, it felt as if I’d never find it. That I’d never get out of that dark place that I was in. Then, life prompted me to make the greatest decision of my life; to move to Lawrence, Kansas of all places. It may have seemed like a strange choice, but it was ultimately the right one, because that choice led me to finding you.”

She looked up at him, a tear now rolling down her face as she smiled through them. He was barely hanging on, and it warmed her heart to see all the love in his eyes.

“Dean, You got me out of that dark place. You’re my light, and I promise to always be yours too. I promise to always be your rock, to tell you just how much I respect you and appreciate you, to be your protector through any obstacle that comes our way, and to never doubt you or let you doubt yourself. I promise to love you forever, Dean Winchester.” As she finished, she looked up to see Dean subtly bend his head and wipe a tear away, turning back to her with a smile.

Cindy gave Y/N a wink before turning to Dean, a small nod letting him know it was his turn. He turned to Sam, who gave him his vows with a small smile, tapping his upper arm before Dean turned back to Y/N. He opened the folded paper, taking a deep breath as he hoped that his words would get his point across.

“It’s a good thing we gotta write these down, because I’m not good with words,” he said, looking up from the paper before he read it. “Even what I wrote might not be great, so-”

He stopped rambling as he felt Y/N’s hand slip into the one that wasn’t holding the paper, grasping it tightly. He looked at her and saw her smiling, her eyes holding all the promises she had just made. He smirked at her, knowing he could do this.

“I never thought of myself as the “get married” type of guy,” he started, looking intently at his vows. “Not for any other reason than I didn’t think it was on the cards for me. Then… right when I thought life was dealing me the short straw… I found you.” He looked up at Y/N, beaming at her as she did the same, her eyes watery.

“Y/N, you came into my life when I needed you most. You helped me understand what it meant to be supported, appreciated and respected. What it meant to be loved. You helped me get out of the cage I was in, and you helped me realize that I deserve better than what I had. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier that that “better” was you. You… you saved me,” he said, his voice hitching as he looked up at her, his eyes shining. He cleared his throat from the emotions he was feeling, looking down at his paper again. “Y/N, I promise you… I’ll always be there to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you and respect you. I’ll always support you the way you have with me, and I’ll be your shield any time you feel that dark cloud coming in. I’ll never let anyone, or anything hurt you. I’m going to love you for the rest of this life and into the next, sweetheart.”

“Dean,” she gasped, shaking her head in wonder of her soon-to-be husband.

“Was that okay?” he asked, softly, nerves reflected on his features as he looked at her.

“It was beautiful,” she whispered.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” Cindy asked, receiving several cheers from the guests.

Dean and Y/N looked at their families, seeing both their mothers incredibly overwhelmed as they wiped away their tears.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Cindy said, smiling. “Can we have the rings?”

Jill and Sam both handed the rings to Y/N and Dean respectively, both of them smiling as Dean took her left hand. They couldn’t believe how close they were to being married.

“Dean,” Cindy started, turning to him. “Do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, loving and honoring her all the days of your life, until death parts you?”

Dean smiled as images of Y/N when they first met on that fateful day and every incredible moment between them since then, flashed before his eyes. “I do,” he said, with more confidence than he had ever had in his life.

He slid the platinum wedding band onto her ring finger, sitting on top of her engagement ring. Y/N looked at him, her eyes never wanting to leave his as Cindy turned to her. She asked the same question of Y/N, who refused to look anywhere else than at the love of her life standing in front of her.

“I do,” Y/N stated, never breaking eye contact with the wonderful man looking back at her, as flashes of their life so far crossed her mind. She looked down briefly, sliding the matching platinum band onto his finger.

The anticipation crept up within them, more than ready to be declared husband and wife.

“Well, I guess it’s time then, isn’t it?” Cindy laughed, looking between both of them. “By the power invested by the state of Kansas, in front of your dear family and friends, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Dean,” Cindy declared, raising an eyebrow as she smiled at Dean.

Leaning forward, Dean’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist as he pulled her as close as he could. Her arms wrapped around his neck, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. It was as if time stood still, as if every kiss until this one was only a teaser, their souls now connected forever. Everyone stood up and clapped, cheered and called out their congratulations, but the couple only heard them briefly.  After a moment, he pulled away and gave her the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on his face. They gave each other a few more short kisses, before they turned and smiled at everyone.

“Family and friends, I am delighted to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester!” Cindy yelled, clapping excitedly.

Dean took Y/N’s hand, both of them making their way down the aisle, waving at their families and promising to see them soon. They walked off behind the trees, a moment alone before the photographs started. Dean cupped her face, pulling her into another passionate kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, desperate to keep kissing him.

“You’re my wife,” he said, laughing happily as he bit his lip.

“You’re my husband,” she sighed, kissing him again.

Their lips locked in a passionate exchange, not wanting to let go of each other. They stayed in each other’s embrace for a few moments, eventually pulling away from each other, knowing they needed to get to the next part of the day.

“Shall we?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

“Absolutely,” she replied, kissing him once more.

He offered her his arm, ready to take her to the photographer and start the rest of their special day. Y/N smiled and hooked her arm around Dean’s, strolling down the path with him as they held each other close.

The photographs took a bit of time, getting everyone coordinated and organized. They took family photos, with the bridal party, in every combination they could manage, before their photographer took pictures of just Y/N and Dean. He took them at more natural points, and based on that, they were excited to see what they would look like.

Once they were finished, they walked down the path and over to the reception, small chandeliers hanging from the top of the tent, and beautiful flower arrangements at the tables. Everyone turned to look at them and cheered as they came in, Dean taking Y/N’s hand and twirling her around the empty space that would be used as a dance floor. They had decided to get their first dance in, not wanting to pause the reception later and be the centre of attention even more than they already were.

Dean smiled at Y/N as he held her hand, pulling her in close as his other one rested on her hip. They looked into each other’s eyes, the song they had chosen floating in through the speakers. Y/N had told him about it, and after listening to it, he was on board straight away. It may not have been classic rock, but it was a classic in its own right and the cover that they had chosen of it suited the feel of their wedding.

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

And dance me to the end of love

Please dance me to the end of love

“You look so beautiful,” he stated, smiling down at her. “I couldn’t get that out when I saw you.”

“Well, now I can tell you how handsome you look, too,” she said, softly.

There may have been people around them watching as they danced, but their eyes were only on each other as they moved to the music. He leaned his forehead against hers, both of them wearing identical smiles as they swayed slowly. Tilting his head slightly, he kissed her nose softly, bringing her in closer.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart,” he whispered back, leaning in and kissing her, passionately.

They pulled away after a moment, her head leaning against his shoulder as he rested his cheek against her head, both content as they closed their eyes.

Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Oh let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Oh show me slowly what I only know the limits of

And dance me to the end of love

Please dance me to the end of love

Suddenly, he took her hand and spun her, a squeal leaving her as she started laughing. Pulling her in, he laughed as they held each other close.

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on

And dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

We're both of us beneath our love, and both of us above

And dance me to the end of love

Won't you dance me to the end of love

The guests cheered and clapped as the song ended, Dean and Y/N smiling at everyone as they made their way to their table, as everyone found their respective ones as well. The food had started being served, and the couple had never been more thankful, having been dying to eat all day. The little snacks throughout the day had only served to make them hungrier. The food was incredible, and the drinks were amazing. As the sun had set, the fairy lights all around the tent shined as did the chandeliers, bathing the area in a soft glow. As waiters took away plates and glasses, others came around with glasses of champagne, ready for the speeches. Dean had his arm around Y/N as it rested on her chair, both of them smiling as they saw her father stand up.

“Evening everyone, I’m David. Y/N’s father,” he started, looking around the tent at the guests. “Well, I hope you know who I am, otherwise well done for sneaking into an expensive meal unnoticed.”

There were laughs around the area, as Y/N’s jaw dropped. She and her mother looked at each other, shaking their heads as Jill giggled, sitting on the other side of Y/N. Dean chuckled lightly, nodding as he sipped his water.

“I just want to welcome you all and thank you for being here for this incredible occasion, of my daughter’s wedding. Meredith and I want to thank John and Mary as well, for being so welcoming of us and our side from New York. I know that Y/N’s talked about how wonderful you both are, and we’ve definitely seen it, so thank you,” he continued, gesturing to Dean’s parents who sat next to David and Meredith.

“Y/N, Dean… congratulations to you both. Y/N, honey, your mother and I are so proud of you and the woman you’ve become. God knows you’ve been through a lot, but you came out of it more courageous, stronger, and more determined to keep fighting. Dean, the day we met you we got to see just how much you care for our daughter. We knew without a doubt that she was going to be safe and provided for. So… I know that as much as it kills me to let my daughter go… She’s going to be happy and well looked after. As long as you remember the cardinal rule of marriage: one person is always right, and the other person is you,” he said, making everyone laugh again.

“So, I know we’ve all been emotional today, I mean even the cake is in tiers,” David said, causing some cringing from his wife and daughters. Dean pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh as his wife shook her head at her dad.

“But once these speeches are done, let’s have some fun, okay?” David smiled, lifting his glass. “To Dean and Y/N, I know that your relationship is already a strong one, so may it continue to always be.”

Mary stood up, already a mess of tears as she tried to dap them away. She smiled over at the couple and took a deep breath as she prepared to talk to them.

“I want to start off quickly by thanking everyone for coming today as well. I look around now and see so many people who are so important to our family, and it just warms my heart to see you all here, and to see some other very important people who have now joined our family,” she started, looking from David and Meredith to Y/N. “I’m so happy for my son, who’s found someone who makes his world brighter. Y/N, thank you for seeing all of the good things in my son and for loving him for all of it and more. I’m so glad you came into his life, and therefore, ours. There’s not much I can say to you as advice because I already know how much you both care for each other, but as long as that remains constant, as long as you’re there for each other, support each other, love each other… I know you’re both going to be happy forever.” She blew a kiss to them as she sat down, smiling as John kissed her cheek.

Dean watched his parents and saw how much they still loved each other, even after all the things they had been through and all the years together. If he and Y/N were half as happy as they are, he knew they would be perfectly fine.

Jill stood up from her seat next to Y/N, as everyone at their table adjusted to face her. She smiled down at Y/N, who returned it, her eyes never leaving her older sister.

“Hey everybody, I’m Jill, Y/N’s sister. I’m going to ask that you all bear with me because I may cry as I talk about the greatest little sister a girl could ask for,” Jill stated, already getting choked up before even starting her speech. “While she may have had a mean streak when we were younger, like the time she shaved my eyebrow off while I was sleeping-”

There were audible gasps and laughs around the tent, as Y/N shook her head, ready to argue.

“That was because she spat toothpaste in my hair because I bent down at the sink before her!” she yelled, causing everyone to laugh.

“Which is tame compared to the eyebrow,” Jill countered, laughing. “Dean… you better watch out.”

Dean choked on his water, coughing slightly as he laughed. Y/N playfully glared at him, causing him to press his lips together to stop laughing.

“Anyway, while that may have happened… none of it changed how amazing a person she is. With everything she’s been through, everything she’s fought for, and everything she’s accomplished… I’m so constantly in awe of her and the incredible force that she is,” Jill added, looking down at her sister, tears in her eyes.

“When she told me about Dean and how she was starting to fall for him, I thought about how I’ve never heard her sound like this. She had been in love before, but never quite like this. More than anything, it was how she spoke about Dean that struck me. How much respect she had for him, how in awe she was of him, how crazy she was about him. From that, I knew that there was something there that was special. Meeting Dean only proved that further,” Jill said, looking over at her new brother-in-law. “I saw how much he reciprocated all of those things back to Y/N, and that was when I truly knew… that this guy, well he was the real deal.”

Dean smiled at her, a little nod between them to acknowledge that Jill had always approved and would always continue to do so.

“So, Dean… welcome to our family. Thank you for taking care of my sister the way you have so far… I know she’s in safe hands and you’ll always continue to do so,” Jill ended her speech, sitting back down and leaning over to Y/N, hugging her tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered back, kissing her cheek.

Sam stood up next to Dean, standing in such a way that Eileen could read his lips as he spoke. He had been signing for her so far, Eileen having refused an interpreter at the reception as they wouldn’t have needed him for very long, unlike the ceremony. Sam cleared his throat, looking around at everyone before he started.

“Hi everyone, I’m Sam, Dean’s younger brother and best man. So, I had thought a lot about what to say today, since Dean asked me to be his best man, actually. I thought about how I should say nice things about my big brother, but then everything I thought about didn’t feel like enough to tell you all how great he really is,” Sam said, looking around at the guests before he looked at Dean.

Dean looked at Sam, a small smile on his face as he wasn’t used to his little brother saying things about him.

“My entire life, Dean’s protected me. I didn’t always like it; in fact, sometimes I really wasn’t appreciative of everything he did for me. Then of course there were the stupid pranks he pulled on me. I’m sure most people know the Nair incident, but let’s not bring up old wounds… let’s just say, Dean got into a lot of trouble for that one,” Sam continued. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at his brother, as people laughed, shook their heads in disbelief as they remembered the incident, while others looked around wondering what happened.

“Still can’t believe you did that,” Y/N whispered, shaking her head at Dean.

“Well, clearly we’re made for each other, what with shaving off Jill’s eyebrow,” he whispered back, smirking.

She giggled and leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Then as I grew up, I realized that despite the pranks, despite the constant annoying comments about my hair, the bad singing in the car, the same five albums playing over and over every time we went somewhere, the way that he always had to have the last word… through all of that, the fact that he always there when I needed him… it was the one thing, in the whole world, that I could always count on. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true,” Sam said, clearing his throat as he felt the emotion rising up from his chest.

Dean smiled softly, letting a low exhale, deeply touched by everything his little brother was saying.

“That’s why I know without even a shred of doubt, that Y/N…” Sam looked at her as he spoke his next words. “Dean’s going to be there for you through anything for as long as you’re both living on this planet.”

Y/N smiled, her heart skipping a beat at Sam’s beautiful words.

“And yeah, sure, he’s going to probably piss you off. You know who to vent to when that happens,” Sam laughed as he gestured to himself. Dean shook his head as he annoyedly glared at Sam, causing Y/N to chuckle, as others joined in.

“But he’s never going to let you down,” Sam continued, smiling. “And I have to thank you too, Y/N. I told you the first time I met you that you’re good for Dean, and I’ve never seen anything to tell me otherwise, for as long as you’ve been together. For a while there, he was lost, but you found him and brought him back to being the person that he is and always has been. I know I speak for everyone when I say we’ll be thanking you for that for years to come.”

A small tear rolled down Y/N’s face, causing her to dab it away with the tissue in her hand.

“So, without me going on and on, let’s raise our glasses to the bride and groom,” Sam announced, lifting up his glass of champagne, as all the guests did the same. “I hope you both have an amazing life together, counting on the things that are honest and true. To Dean and Y/N!”

“To Dean and Y/N!” everyone cheered, clapping and sipping champagne.

Dean and Y/N clinked their glasses together, kissing softly before they each took a sip of the sparkling liquid. They both got up from the table and thanked everyone, Y/N hugging her dad then Mary for their beautiful words. Dean went over to Sam, tapping him on the shoulder.

“That was some speech, little brother,” he said, smirking.

“Yeah, I tried to mix it up,” Sam stated, laughing slightly. “Tried not to make it too chick-flick for you.”

“Thanks for that.” Dean chuckled slightly, before he smiled at him. “What you said about Y/N though… it was great, man.”

“Well, she’s great,” Sam affirmed, looking between Dean and Y/N, who was talking with Mary.

“Yeah, she is,” Dean said, quietly as he smiled, watching her. He turned to Sam and gestured to come closer, both of them hugging as they clapped each other on the back.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean smirked as he pulled away from his brother, grasping his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it,” Sam said, smiling as he patted Dean’s arm.

They went their separate ways, as Dean and Y/N continued to make their way around and meet everyone. He hugged Mary when he got around to seeing his parents, not before receiving a quick kiss from Y/N as she walked past him to continue socializing with others.

“How do you feel?” John asked.

Dean grinned. “I feel… amazing.”

“Told you you’d get through it,” John said, softly as he smiled.

“Thanks, dad.” Dean smiled at his dad, hugging him.

“Dean!” he heard his groomsmen call out to him, making him pull away from his father.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch up later,” John said, a small chuckle leaving him.

Dean smiled and then walked over to his friends, seeing Y/N head over to them too. He leaned down and kissed her, passionately once they reached each other.

“Alright, let’s dance,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

“Dean dancing? This I gotta see,” Sam teased, smirking.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my new sister-in-law taught me a few things,” Dean stated, tilting his head over at Jill.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? When?”

“Really, and a few days ago, when she got here,” Dean replied, smirking.

“Well, let’s go then!” she yelled, laughing as she dragged him onto the dance floor.

Most of the guests were dancing, drinking and having an amazing time, while others mingled, talked to people they hadn’t caught up with yet or hadn’t met ever. Everyone was having the time of their lives, none more so than Dean and Y/N. She laughed in surprise and excitement as he danced with her to a faster Elvis song, loving to see him so carefree. After a few songs, they stopped in the middle to cut the cake, everyone gorging on the delicious sweet. She ran her finger through some of it on the surface of the knife, offering it to him. She felt her cheeks heat up as he sucked on her finger, winking at her.

“Little preview for later?” she asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” he replied, smirking.

The night continued on, the women all dancing together when “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” came on. Dean was having a conversation with Bobby but kept getting distracted as he looked over at Y/N, dancing with Jill, Charlie and Meg. Evie and Mia bopped at their feet, being very careful not to step on aunty Y/N’s dress. Dean quickly finished talking to Bobby, promising to catch up with him in a few days time, before making his way to the dance floor.  He roared as he swooped in, picking up Mia and spinning her around. She laughed and squealed, holding him tightly as he joined everyone. The song changed over to “Dancing in the Dark”, as more people joined in. Jill and Brian danced together, as the girls danced with their aunt and uncle.

“Uncle Dean, guess what?” Evie yelled over the music.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Dean looked down at her, taking her hand and spinning her around, as he held Mia in his arm.

“I had bacon today and I liked it!” Evie told him, excitedly.

Dean put a hand over his heart, smiling at her. “Kid after my own heart.”

She latched onto him, making it difficult for him to move, but he leaned over and kissed Y/N, having gone too long since their previous one. Eventually, pretty much everyone was on the floor, dancing together as they continued to enjoy themselves.

The night began to wind down, as a few more guests thanked them for a wonderful night and they thanked them for being there, before they left. Y/N was chatting with Jody and the girls, when Dean came up behind her, putting his arms around her.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I gotta steal this one away,” he told them, slowly turning Y/N around.

“Go ahead,” Jody said, smiling.

“The girls want you to throw the bouquet and then we can head out,” Dean said, kissing her softly.

“Head out? We’re only going home, we can stay a bit longer,” she stated, frowning.

He smirked, shaking his head. “We’re not going home.”

“Oh really?” she asked, smiling. “What do you have up your sleeve this time, Dean Winchester?”

“Well, considering we’re not going on our honeymoon until next month because of the last few weeks of school, I pulled some strings with a customer who’s a manager at a hotel in town, and got us a room,” he replied, biting his lip as he smirked.

“You’re amazing,” she said, simply as she shrugged.

“So are you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her, lovingly.

Within a few minutes, Y/N got up on a chair as the women all gathered around to take part in a tradition she wasn’t too fond of, but Charlie had convinced her that it was a bit of fun. Y/N turned her back to them, launching the bouquet overhead, turning to see it glide through the air. Charlie stepped aside to let it end up in Meg’s vision, causing her to launch forward and grab the flowers. She looked at them with shock, not having been close enough to catch them and yet there she was. Holding the bouquet.

Cas looked on from where the guys were standing, suddenly feeling hot under the collar of his shirt. Sam looked at him, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“You okay there, Cas?” he asked, smirking.

“Fine,” Cas replied, clearing his throat.

“Looks like you’re next,” Benny teased with a smirk of his own.

Dean laughed, tapping Cas on the back. “Relax, man. You look like you’re gonna barf.”

“I’m fine,” Cas repeated, his voice raspy and nervous.

The three of them looked at each other, chuckling quietly.

Within another hour, the reception came to a close, just a little after 12:30am. Their immediate family and friends stayed and left the tent with them, as they made their way back to the ranch house where they had gotten ready. The girls helped Y/N change out of her wedding dress, promising to take it back home for her. She got dressed into a white, A-line dress that came to just above her knees, changing into white shoes that had a shorter heel. She smiled as Charlie handed over an overnight bag she had packed for her, telling her that she was in on the surprise from Dean. Doing one last sweep of the room, the girls left and walked out to the parking lot.

She smiled as she saw Dean leaning against the Impala, his white dress shirt tight across his muscles as he crossed his arms, having ditched the suit jacket. The back of the car had a “Just Married” sign stuck to the trunk, and cans tied underneath. She knew he couldn’t have been happy about that, but he didn’t seemed he didn’t seem to care at that moment. They said their goodbyes to everyone, before Dean turned around and walked to the car, opening the passenger side door as he waited for Y/N.

She waved at everyone as she hurried over, quickly sitting inside as he shut the door. He waved at all the guests one last time as he ran around the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Ready?” he asked, as he turned to Y/N. He had the most perfect smile on his face, which she reciprocated.

“Ready.” She leaned over, kissing him softly as he started the engine.

With one last look in the rear-view mirror, Dean’s foot pressed down on the accelerator. The Impala sped off, as he pressed the horn a few times and Y/N stuck her head out of the open window, waving as everyone cheered. They made it down the long drive, everyone disappearing from view, as Dean took a right turn and put them in the direction of Kansas City.

Once they arrived at the hotel, checked in and rode the elevator to their floor, they made their way to their room. Y/N stood back as Dean opened the door, took her bag from her and dropped both of them inside the door, holding it open with his foot. He took Y/N’s hand and bent down, wrapping an arm under her legs and around her back, picking her up.

“Really?” she asked, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hey, we stuck to other traditions today, might as well stick to this one, too,” he replied, as he carried her across the threshold and into their hotel room, the door shutting behind them.

He walked over to the bed and carefully dropped her onto the covers, the rose petals scattering around. She laughed as he climbed on top of her, his legs on either side of her. The lights in the room were dimmed, giving everything a warm glow as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Hi, wife,” he breathed, grinning.

“Hi, husband,” she whispered, beaming.

He leaned in, kissing her passionately as he took her hands in his and placed them on either side of her head, their fingers curling between each other’s. The kiss became heated quickly, both of them wanting to be as close to the other as possible, after being apart since the night before.

“Dean,” she mumbled against his lips. She bit her lip as she wiggled her eyebrows. “I think I need to slip into something more comfortable.”

He hummed, kissing her again quickly. “I think you do, too.”

He rolled away from her, letting her sit up and stand up from the bed. She turned back to him and felt a heat spread through her body and settle in her as she looked at him, his legs crossed as he leaned up on his elbows, smirking at her. His white shirt had a couple of buttons open, exposing his neck and clavicle, making her shiver. She smiled at him and walked away to the bathroom, picking up her overnight bag along the way, and shutting the door.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, smiling as she let out a small squeal. She had never felt as happy as she did in her relationship with Dean, and she couldn’t wait to see how much deeper their love would grow now that they were married. Unzipping her dress on the side, she slipped it off and took off the simple bra and underwear she had put on. She unzipped her bag, smiling when she saw the white lingerie she had bought. Good thing she had told Charlie about it and her friend packed it for her. She slipped it on, clasping the bra and adjusting all the straps. She took out the soft lace robe and put it on. Looking at herself in the mirror again, she took out all the pins from her hair, flicking it back and forth to open it up. She stroked her hands through it and fluffed it, the strands now wavy from being in the bun all day.

With one last check in the mirror, Y/N opened the door and walked out. She smiled as Dean sat on the edge of the bed, taking his shoes off. She cleared her throat and he looked up, stopping what he was doing as his eyes raked over her. He looked up into her eyes, smiling as he dropped his shoes and leaned back on his hands, watching her walk over to him. She straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he sat up, placing his hands on her hips.

“Like it?” she asked, as her hands combed through his hair at the back of his head.

He hummed as he leaned in, kissing her neck softly. “Definitely… but I think I’d like it better on the floor.”

His hands moved up to her shoulders, her arms moving back to let him push her robe down her arms, letting the delicate material slip to the floor. She shifted forward, her covered mound pressing against his crotch as she began to grind slowly. He pulled her closer, kissing her neck, nipping at the spot that always drove her crazy.

“God, I love you so damn much, sweetheart,” he whispered between kisses, making his way to her mouth, pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

“I love you, too,” she said, pulling away briefly. “So much.”

His hands slid around her back, slowly unclasping the bra and unhooking the bottom part of the lingerie. He pulled it off her and threw it on the floor, leaving her in the matching white lace thong.

Pulling her into him, Dean turned and laid Y/N down on the bed, her head resting against the pillows. She sat up, reaching for his shirt and unbuttoning it, kissing him feverishly as she pushed it off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. He leaned over, laying her back against the bed, moving in to kiss her again. He trailed his lips down, kissing along her neck and collarbone, down the valley of her breasts, stopping to plant a kiss to each of them, making his way down her stomach.

“So beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, making her press her lips together, her cheeks hot from his admiration.

She looked down at him, watching as he pulled her thong down her legs and dropped it to the floor. Their eyes met as he moved between her legs, a small smirk on his face as he leaned in and placed a kiss to her sex. She bit her lip as they kept eye contact, a gasp leaving her as he licked a stripe over her folds. He moved his tongue from her entrance to her clit, tasting her as she started to get wet. He ran his tongue over her swollen nub in circles, causing a small moan to escape her lips. He started to alternate between sucking at her clit and slowly thrusting his tongue into her wet canal, as her hands moved into his short locks.

“Dean, oh my god,” she moaned, looking down at him as her hands gripped his hair tight.

“Taste so good, sweetheart,” he groaned.

He continued his ministrations, as a string of moans left her, his name falling from her lips as she felt her core tighten, knowing that she was close. No matter how many times Dean did this for her, every time was a euphoric experience, a feeling that could never be compared to anything else because it was just that amazing. Every single time.

“God, feels so good,” she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered against her thigh, planting a kiss to her flesh. “Cum on my tongue, wanna feel it.” He dipped his head and continued to suck at the swollen nub and lick at her entrance, ready to bring her over the edge.

“Dean, fuck I-” she moaned, threw her head back. “Dean!”

The coil snapped as she came, her wetness slicking his tongue and lips. He lapped at everything she gave him, not moving until he was satisfied. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, he drifted up, holding himself above her as he smiled.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands and bringing him closer, kissing his lips and tasting herself on them. She looked up at him, stroking her thumbs across his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. “I really am.”

His eyes flicked over every part of her face, taking in every feature. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you,” she whispered, gazing into his green orbs.

“Wanna be inside you, sweetheart,” he groaned, softly, as he reached for the belt on his pants.

“Want that too,” she sighed, reaching up to plant kisses along his jaw. “Need you inside me.”

Dean took off his belt and dropped it down the side of the bed, undoing his pants and slipping them off along with his boxers, throwing them to the floor. He was hard, his cock throbbing after he had brought her over the edge with his mouth. He took a hold of his shaft, pressing the tip to her entrance, as her legs spread a little more. Knowing she was more than ready for him, he sank into her, a soft moan leaving her lips as she felt her walls stretch and sheath his cock completely.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me, Dean,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “So good.”

“So perfect wrapped around me,” he whispered back.

He pulled back slightly, thrusting back into her as he set a slow, sensual rhythm. He leaned down on his forearms, his face closer to hers, kissing her passionately. She held onto his shoulders, her legs wrapping around him, her heels digging into the globes of his ass. Their bodies moved together in a slow dance, their lips moving against each other at the same pace.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, a soft and loving smile on her face.

Dean pulled back slightly, looking deep into her eyes. He couldn’t believe that he got to be her husband, feeling overwhelmed by the moment as he continued to move within her.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester,” she sighed, her hands moving up to cup his face again. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

Dean reached up and took her hands in his, their fingers linked as he held them down on either side of her head. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, their eyes boring into each other’s. For yet another time in their relationship, he wondered how luck finally came to him, how he finally found the woman of his dreams. He marvelled that he found a woman who truly cared for him, who loved him unconditionally and saw past his flaws. He couldn’t believe his luck to get the chance to spend his whole life with her.

Y/N breathed heavily as she gazed up at him, seeing his eyes begin to water. She couldn’t believe that this man above her had come into her life right when she needed him. That he had found everything about her incredible, to the point where he had committed to spending his whole life with her. He loved her and made her feel safe, and she constantly thanked the universe every day that they found each other.

A tear rolled down Dean’s right cheek, causing Y/N to reach up and softly brush it away. Another tear escaped his left eye, as he let out a mix between a gasp and a moan. His shoulders shook as a wave of emotions flooded him; his jaw clenched as he tried to keep the tears at bay.

“I love you so fucking much, sweetheart,” he rasped, a few more tears escaping.

She held his face in her hands, leaning up slightly to softly brush her lips against his cheeks, kissing his tears away. He continued to move within her, her walls clenching around his cock as his hips undulated slowly, hitting her g-spot repeatedly. Her hands joined with his again, their fingers tight around each other’s. Linked together. Forever.

She smiled through tears of her own, tilting her head to kiss his lips softly. “I love you, D.”

He thrusted into her a little faster, knowing that she was close from the way she contracted around him. He leaned up slightly, looking down at her as he moved deep with her, her hips meeting his. She felt the heat in her belly rise, her core tightening again, her second release fast approaching.

“Dean,” she moaned loudly, her hands grasping his tightly. “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too, gorgeous,” he grunted, clenching his jaw. “Cum with me.”

She looked deep into his eyes, as his hips snapped against hers a few more times, causing her to moan loudly. With their names on each other’s lips, they fell over the edge together, her wetness slicking his shaft, as his seed coated her inner walls, the euphoria washing over them like a calming ocean.

Dean breathed heavily as he dropped his head to her chest, his lower body slowly laying between her legs. She ran her hands through his sweat-soaked hair, holding his head in place, her chest rising and falling harshly as she caught her breath. He turned his head slightly, softly kissing the top of her breast and any other part of her skin that he could reach. He slowly pulled out of her, but she didn’t allow him to move away.

“That was incredible,” she said, softly, feeling a tear escape her eye and run down the side of her face.

He nodded against her chest, not trusting his voice at that moment.

They lay there in the same position for a few moments, until Dean rolled off her and shifted back against the pillows. Y/N moved into him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around him. Her fingers made random patterns on his chest, both of them basking in the afterglow of their wedding night love making. Soon, sleep was starting to creep in. He reached up and turned off the lights from the switch near the bed, the clock on the bedside table reading 2:15am.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” she whispered, her eyes closing.

“I love you, too, Y/N Winchester,” he whispered back.

They fell into a deep slumber, their bodies moulded together perfectly, their minds replaying the beautiful memories of their special day and knowing that come sunrise would be the start of new ones being made.

It would be the start of their new chapter together as husband and wife.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons​​ // @winchest09​​ // @downanddirtydean​​ // @jensengirl83​​ // @wonder-cole​​ // @that-one-gay-girl​​ // @whatareyousearchingfordean​​ // @flamencodiva​​ // @danneelsmain​​ // @ellewritesfix05​​ // @roonyxx​​ // @akshi8278​​ //@hobby27​​ // @michellethetvaddict​​ // @spngirl05​​ // @kyjey​​ // @440mxs-wife​​ // @stoneyggirl​​ // @stoneyggirl2​​​ // @deanswaywardgirl​​​ // @redbarn1995​​​ // @marianita195​ // @babypink224221​​​ // @deans-baby-momma​​​ // @parinarain​​​ // @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ // @mandalou29​​​ // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​​ // @supernatural-love14​​​ // @vicmc624​​​ // @prettyboyswow​​​ // @lunarmoon8​​​ // @irmcpar​​​ // @compresshischest09​​​ // @weepingwillowphoenix​​​ // @xlynnbbyx​​​ // @whiskey-infused-dreams​​​ // @perpetualabsurdity​​​ // @verytoadpapersoul​​​ // @pink-sparkly-witch​​​ //

[buckleydiazmp4]

for @emeraldcas follower celebration!

day 1 - prompt: words unspoken

1.3k words

read below or on ao3

Tonight, Dean's brain has decided it's the perfect time for a little screening of Everything I Regret Saying (Or Not Saying) To The Love Of My Life.

Dean's not good with words. Never has been. Sometimes when he was a kid, he'd spend days without talking. By now, he's figured he just has to show instead of tell, otherwise he'll send every relationship he has flying off a cliff simply because he doesn't know how to say what he's thinking.

With Sammy it got easier eventually. He's learned to understand him without words, to know what he's thinking, how he's feeling. Dean's sure Sam knows how much he loves him, even if he rarely tells him. He's very grateful for that.

With Cas, though, things are different. It's not that he's better with words, it's actually the opposite. He wants to tell him so much stuff that he ends up not saying anything he truly wants to. And then they end up hurting each other, because neither of them knows their way with words. If there was a prize for miscommunication, they'd certainly win first place.

So, every time Dean says something wrong, he feels like a teenager with an embarrassing crush, mulling over his own words, regretting them even years after having said them. It's like an endless cycle of self-loathing, which he's an expert on.

Sometimes it's not even his long, big speeches that have the most meaning behind them, but the little sarcastic quips here and there, or the small, quiet sentences spoken in moments of uncertainty. Those are the ones that rewrite themselves in his heart, like lines of a poem carved in stone.

"Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space." I want you to be close to me all the time but I'm scared you'll just want to walk away.

"Morning, sunshine. Want some coffee?" I love that you're here. This is your home.

"I'd rather have you. Cursed or not." There is nothing that could ever change the fact that I love you.

"I need you." I love you no matter what.

"Of course I forgive you." I never wanted you to leave.

Then there's a look of sorrow, or a hug, a pat on the shoulder, a mixtape...

There's always something, and yet that something never seems to be the words that have been lodged in his throat all through the past decade.

Holding the weight of his regrets, Dean lays back on his memory foam mattress and stares at the ceiling. He pictures Cas' eyes from memory. The way they droop when he's tired, and sparkle when he's curious. The way they squint when he's angry or thoughtful, almost cartoonish. I love him, he thinks, with an ironic chuckle. I love him, and I'm never gonna be able to tell him.

Just as he's about to start round two of his self-loathing ritual, there's a knock on the door.

"Yeah, come in."

Cas walks in, wearing a pair of Dean's plaid pajama pants and a Zepp t-shirt. He's holding two steaming mugs that carry the smell of ginger, and his hair is all over the place.

"What's so funny?" Cas asks when Dean starts laughing.

"Dude, you look like a hedgehog."

Cas does not seem to be happy about Dean's comparison, judging by the squint of his eyes. But that just makes it funnier, so Dean smiles deviously at him until the angry facade is gone, replaced by soft, ocean-blue eyes.

"Dean, it's four in the morning. Why are you not sleeping?"

"Well, I could ask you the same thing."

Cas sighs. "I was making some tea." He says, handing one of the mugs to Dean. It warms up his hands when he holds it.

"At the crack of dawn? Sounds like someone's got a bad case of insomnia." He says it like it's a joke, but he's worried. Again, not good with words.

"Yeah. Maybe I do." Cas says in a raspy voice.

Before regretting it, Dean pats the spot beside him two times, signaling for Cas to sit down. Cas walks the short steps towards the bed and sits down slowly, careful not to spill his scalding tea mug on himself. Then, he lays his head back against the headboard and closes his eyes.

Because Dean has no self-control, he scoots closer to the former angel and stares. His eyes trace the slope of his nose and the curve of his eyelashes, and the way his jawline is pointing upwards. He suddenly gets the urge to trace it with his fingers, to feel the stubble growing there. A wave of longing hits him like it's done a thousand times before, and he does nothing to stop it.

A second later, Cas' breath startles Dean out of his internal thinking. That's when he realizes how close their faces actually are. His first instinct is to move away, maybe say some joke about personal space, but he finds himself unable to move an inch. Cas is just watching him intently and shamelessly, and it occurs to Dean that maybe he's not the only one who likes to observe his best friend like he's a renaissance painting.

Since his body has decided to become a full-time statue, all Dean can do is stare at the wooden headboard next to Cas' face. Then he clears his throat quietly and replaces what he wants to say with something else, the way he always does.

"Maybe you could, um, stay here. Y'know, to help with your sleeping problems. A different mattress might, um. It might help."

Cas takes a little while to answer, long enough for Dean to start panicking. But when he's about deflect his offer with a joke or a change of topic, Cas nods. They're still close enough that his hair tickles Dean's forehead when he moves his head.

"Yeah. It might help." Cas says, matching Dean's small, tense tone of voice.

Dean's brain stopped working the minute Cas sat on his bed, but the rest of his body doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. It's moving on its own, and a second later, his forehead is touching Cas'. He feels electricity run through it, like his skin is made of lightning. If Cas weren't human now, Dean wouldn't dismiss that possibility. Dean does his best work to assess the situation, but all he's coming up with is a repetitive whisper of Cas' name inside his otherwise empty head. He does the one thing he's never been able to do, which is voice his exact thoughts out loud.

"Cas..." he whispers, feeling their breaths mix together.

Cas has always been braver than him, so he's the one who closes the gap. He presses his lips against Dean's, so ghost-like and soft that he's not sure it's real. To test that theory, Dean's brain finally restarts with a jolt, and then he's pushing forward, deepening the kiss, which he's now sure is actually happening.

Cas returns the kiss like he's been drowning for ages and can finally breathe again. The electricity Dean felt when their foreheads touched is dialed up to a hundred where their lips are sliding against each other, like tiny little fireworks exploding against his skin. Despite the surreal feeling of kissing the man he's been in love with for ages, it also feels like home. Cas tastes like ginger and honey, and that cherry chapstick Dean bought for him at the grocery store.

Dean traces Cas' jawline with his thumb the way he was imagining just a few minutes earlier, which pulls a sigh out of him. The stubble tickles his skin, and it feels so good he thinks he might explode. A million words unspoken fly through Dean's mind, but he doesn't need any of them at the moment.

They break the kiss to take air, but their foreheads stay in place, aligned with each other perfectly. Cas smiles, and it's nearly blinding. I love you, Dean thinks, except this time, he's sure he'll be able to tell him in the future.

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

I. “Sorry,” the guy says, his voice deep and sun-warmed. Dean steps back, extending his hands as if to say no problem, and then he recognizes the guy--it’s Castiel, the dude from the campus coffeeshop with the weird name that made a bunch of people look up, Dean included. 

“You’re Castiel,” Dean says. “I’m Dean.”

“I’ve never been introduced to myself before,” Castiel replies, but he’s grinning, and he sticks out his hand for Dean to shake. Dean helps Castiel pick up the papers he dropped when Dean ran into him, and they walk to their next class together, because it turns out Religion 101 and Intro to Philosophy are in the same building. Castiel tosses Dean a peace sign as he turns towards his classroom, and Dean waves back. 

II. A week later, Dean's outside his history professor’s office to get feedback on a paper when Castiel walks up, his head buried in a book. He looks up when Dean coughs, and then a smile grows on his face.

“How are you, Dean?” Castiel asks, as if there hasn’t been a gap in their conversation at all. 

“I’ve been better. Dr. Turner is about to ream me over this essay. I may have...left it until the last minute.” Dean paused. “How are you?”

“Trying to finish reading this book before my next class. I may have...also left it until the last minute.” Castiel’s smile grows broader. 

Just then, Dr. Turner opens his office door, and Dean smiles at Castiel ruefully. 

“Hey, Dean,” Castiel says, just as Dean follows Dr. Turner into the office and is about to close the door, “I never got a last name.”

“Winchester. You?”

“Novak.” 

III. “Who the hell would drive this monstrosity?” Benny, Dean’s coworker at the auto shop he works at after class, asks. They’re both staring at a massive gold Lincoln Continental from the seventies that has a popped tire and is, according to their boss, making “funny noises.”

“That would be me,” a familiar voice says, and Dean turns to see the shock of dark hair and vibrant blue gaze that indicates Castiel Novak. 

“Oh, hey, Cas--Castiel,” Dean says.

“Cas is fine. But yes, I drive this...’monstrosity.’” Cas uses finger quotes and everything. 

“You and Dean should get along, then,” Benny quips, “He acts like his car was God’s gift to mankind.”

“Hey!” Dean protests. “Baby demands respect.”

Cas quirks an eyebrow. “You call your car Baby?”

“So what?” Dean frowns at Cas, although it’s difficult, what with the twinkle he can see in the other guy’s eye. 

“So can you fix my car?”

“We can,” Benny says. “For sure.” 

After Cas leaves, Benny elbows Dean and winks at him. Dean decides to pretend not to know Benny for the rest of their shift. 

IV. They see each other all the time after that, almost like the universe is pushing them together. When Cas sees Dean’s car, his dad’s old 1967 Chevy Impala, he tells Dean it’s a “ridiculous” car, and Dean only doesn’t write him off completely because he’s starting to like Cas.

They run into each other in the student union or the library and do homework. If they’re both at the coffeeshop where Dean first heard Cas’ name, they sit together. Cas shows Dean pictures of his cats and Dean tells Cas stories about what his little brother, Sam, who’s still in high school, has been up to. He learns that Cas’ whole family lives over five hundred miles away, that Cas chose this university to get away from them. Cas learns in turn that Dean is only thirty minutes from his hometown on purpose, in case his mom or brother need him. 

Cas is a member of their university’s beekeeping club and he’s double majoring in philosophy and English. Dean doesn’t know what he wants to major in yet, maybe social work, so he’s getting all his pre-reqs out of the way. Cas says that it’s okay to not know what he wants to do, and Dean believes him. 

This goes on for a couple of months, and at some point hardly a day goes by where they don’t see each other, and it’s kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to Dean. 

V. Dean doesn’t often go to parties, but his friend Charlie who he met in DnD club found out about some frat having one this weekend and apparently they had to go, which is how he’s found himself standing awkwardly in the hallway of a random fraternity, nursing a potentially hazardous red Solo cup of jungle juice. 

“Well hey there, stranger.” 

Dean turns to see Cas holding a beer. “Hey,” Dean replies, feeling his face warm. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Cas, but Cas is his friend, and besides, Cas is cool. Interesting. He writes poetry and wears vintage button-down shirts and paints his own Converse. Dean feels like he himself is what would happen if you made the midwest a person: flannel, leather, ripped jeans, work boots, none of it to be aesthetic. This is just what he looks like.

He runs a hand through his hair nervously, takes a sip of his drink.

“Come here often?” Cas asks after a moment. The hallway is dark, the music audible even though they aren’t in the main room.

“Ha.” Dean swirls his jungle juice. “Charlie--I’ve told you about her, I think--she dragged me here. Pretty sure she’s making out with her girlfriend on a couch as we speak.”

“She threw you to the wolves?”

“A little.” Dean smiles ruefully. “I’m usually reading mystery novels on the weekends and she told me I was boring.” “That’s funny.” Cas smiles with just his eyes. “I would say you’re anything but boring.” 

Dean shrugs. He’s glad for the dim lighting because he just knows his face is getting redder the longer this conversation goes on. He fidgets with the cuff of his flannel with the hand not holding his drink and stares off into space. 

“Hey Dean?” Cas says suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Do you like me?” Cas tilts his head slightly, like he always does. 

“What?” Dean sets his cup on the windowsill next to him. “Do I--what?”

“Just wondering. It’s alright if you don’t.”

Dean furrows his brow. “Do you...like me?” God, this feels like he’s in eighth grade again, crushing on the guy that would always let him borrow a pen in science class. 

Cas considers for a moment. “Definitely.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

Cas somehow tilts his head further. “Well?”

“Uh, yes. I, uh--” Dean fumbles, but he can’t take his eyes off Cas, who knocks back the rest of his beer and sets the bottle on the floor before stepping into Dean’s personal space. 

“Can I kiss you?” Cas is smiling.

“Please.” 

At first, it’s gentle--just a tentative press of lips, Dean can feel the upward curve of Cas’ lips. Then it turns into something a little heavier as Dean’s brain gets back online and he remembers that he has hands, and that’s Cas’ tongue, tentatively exploring, and then not-so-tentatively exploring, and Dean’s pretty sure he might explode.

Eventually they part--Cas has backed Dean against the nearest wall, and Dean has his hands on Cas’ hips, pulling them together, and then Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s.

“Hey Dean?”

“Mmm-hmm?” “Do you think I could get your phone number?” 

[quillquiver]

another chapter of this deancas wedding/honeymoon!fic. thank you @we-all-deserve-to-be-saved for the prompt! 

Castiel is not a morning person.

He likes lying in bed until he’s sore with it, stretching out on the memory foam like a king languishing among his pillows. He likes rolling over onto on a cool patch of sheet, and cuddling into the covers, and hooking his toes over the end of the mattress. Castiel likes holding Dean. Being held by him; tucked up against his chest or with a palm half-sunk into his boxer-briefs. Pressing kisses to neck and shoulders and the line of his hair.

Castiel likes the liminal space he occupies in the moments between sleep and wakefulness, where everything glows. It’s warm and wonderful and he draws it out for as long as possible, the minutes dragging along by way of tender touches. It reminds him of the peaceful parts of angelhood.

So, Castiel is not a morning person.

…But he can become one, for Dean.

Dean likes romantic gestures; not all of them—he isn’t the type of man who likes receiving flowers or chocolates or candlelit dinners. But picking up his favourite beer when Cas notices they’re running low, or staying up late to watch a movie despite being exhausted—kissing him, washing his hair, holding his hand, sitting with him while he works on the Impala… wearing women’s lingerie: these are all things Dean appreciates. Small things. Quiet things.

Cas knows that this is a gamble.

The alarm on his phone barely has the opportunity to buzz before he’s turning it off, carefully sliding out from between the covers. It’s dim, and Cas allows himself a moment to run his hand through the mess of his hair and dig his toes into the soft carpet. A breeze is coming off the water.

God, he hates early mornings.

“Where you goin’?”

Dean’s voice is slurred and muffled. He blindly reaches out and Cas meets him halfway, tempted into cuddling for just a moment longer. “Go back to sleep, Dean,” he murmurs, gently brushing over the pillow lines on his cheek.

“Mmm, w’sss hap’nin?”

“Bathroom,” Cas supplies, depositing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean’s reciprocation lags with exhaustion.

Dean frowns. Struggles to open his eyes. “Y’okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas says. “Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Dean mumbles. “C’m back.”

Cas melts like fallen ice cream on hot concrete.

He carefully extracts himself from their bed, padding into the other room and closing the bedroom door. The sun is beginning to paint the first impressions of light on the horizon; the water is calm—it’s going to be a beautiful day.

Castiel calls for room service.

He orders pancakes and waffles and eggs and sausages, lox bagels, a bowl of fresh fruit, mimosas. An espresso and a latte because Dean would never ask for it himself. “And would you mind putting a rush on this?” he murmurs into the receiver. “I know it’s early, but we’re newlyweds and I’m trying to surprise my husband.”

Cas has learned that the newlywed excuse goes a long way anywhere, but works especially well when paying outrageous amounts of money in a fancy hotel. He expects they’ll also leave the champagne bottle.

Despite the fact that Cas is pretty sure it’s considered impolite to do so, he moves the small table and chairs from the balcony and makes a nest on the marble floor out of spare blankets and colourful pillows from the couch. He tries to mitigate the potential mess by laying down some of their many extra towels. Room service knocks, Cas pulls on a robe, and then the smell of coffee and food starts rousing Dean from bed. Cas pushes the food cart—complete with opened champagne bottle—to the door of the balcony before entering the bedroom.

Dean has kicked off all the covers and is sleeping on his stomach.

There is no moment of thinking about what he wants to do—what he’s allowed; Cas moves without conscious thought, peppering kisses from Dean’s ass all the way to the nape of his neck and then lavishing his attention on his particularly freckled shoulders. “Mmm… smells good.”

“Breakfast,” Cas says.

“S’early.”

“I want to take you on a date.”

Dean’s eyes flutter open. “Now?” he asks, caught between sleep and incredulity.

Cas leans over and presses a kiss to his mouth. “Mm.”

“Sweetheart…” He whines. Cas feels himself start to smile. Dean doesn’t use pet names often, and more recently he’s taken to doing so while complaining; as if the verbal confirmation of his affection will bend Cas to his will. It was laughable until it became endearing—because Cas is sweet on him, and there is no one else Dean feels comfortable whining to.

“Your life is one hardship after another,” he agrees solemnly. Cas slides back down Dean’s body and nips his left asscheck. “Come on. Up.”

“What, we’re not even gonna—”

“After breakfast, Dean. Just come. Please.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grumbles about a different kind of coming. “Man, s’not even light out yet.” As Cas moves to get Dean his robe, he’s caught around the waist and pulled between bowed legs. “C’mon,” Dean needles, nuzzling at him until the robe parts. “A little nookie, a couple more hours of sleep… we can go on a date later.”

“Or we can go on a date now.”

Dean pulls away and looks up at Cas, narrowing his eyes. Cas smiles down at him beatifically, running a hand through his hair and tracing the shell of his in the way he knows turns him to putty.

“…You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes.”

Dean continues to grumble to himself as he slides out of bed and towards his duffle, frowning when Cas catches his hand. “No need to get dressed.”

“But you said—”

Cas holds out his robe. “Follow me.”

Dean slips the thing on as they pad into the main room, his eyes immediately drawn to the food and coffee. He gives a low whistle. “Damn, Cas. We expecting company?”

And suddenly, the entire thing seems incredibly stupid. Cas dragged them both from the warmth and comfort of their marriage bed on their honeymoon to look at the sun rising, a thing that happens and has happened every single day since the Earth started turning. He did this knowing that neither of them get to sleep like this, or be alone like this, or touch like this—this much and this openly. He doesn’t even know if Dean likes sunrises; if this is one of those things that’s romantic in the wrong way.

“I know you like breakfast,” he says, instead of dragging Dean back to bed.

Dean eyes the set-up outside, turn around and… blushes. Is blushing, down his chest and all the way to the tips of his ears. “So this is, uh—you got up and did all this?”

Cas feels colour rise to his own cheeks. “I didn’t cook,” he says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Dean echoes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, take me on a date, stud.” He looks nervous, Cas thinks, which is ridiculous and relatable all at once. Outside, the rising sun paints swathes of pink and orange across the horizon.

“…Right,” Cas says. “Yes. I will… do that.” He gestures to the balcony. “Please sit.”

They get settled with coffee, for the first time maintaining a respectful distance between them. It’s oddly hurtful, and the longer they remain apart the more awkward Cas feels. He’s practically shaking out of his own skin when he suggests they go back inside. “You’re tired,” he says. “We should just go back to sleep.”

“Wait, why?” Dean frowns. He has foam on his upper lip. Cas wants to kiss it away.

“You’re not having fun,” he continues. “And this was silly, anyway. We should just—”

“Who says I’m not having fun?”

“Dean—”

“C’mon, man, you gotta—” Dean cuts himself off. Shakes his head. “I’m not cut out for this stuff: dates, romance… you gotta know that by now. And I haven’t been with anyone long enough to, y’know, even get to the part where we’re mushy and shit. But… it’s not because I don’t want to. I mean, flowers and chocolate? Not my thing, but you know me, Cas. A-And we’re in love, right?”

Cas swallows thickly. He nods. “I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s huff of laughter is steeped in nerves. “Well, good,” he says. “’Cause I’m kinda crazy about you, too. So—so, why shouldn’t we have a sunrise picnic on the balcony at the fuckin’ Ritz?”

“We should, if you’re enjoying myself.”

“Hell yeah, I’m enjoying myself. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Drink your damn coffee.”

Cas stares at him for a moment before scooting closer. He wraps an arm around Dean and tugs, relaxing when over six feet of freckled hunter is suddenly plastered to his side. “Okay,” Cas breathes. “Good. This is good. I love you.”

“I love you, too, you loser.”

They come together more softly than usual, tentative in a way they haven’t been in a long time as they kiss. Eventually, Dean gets pulled onto Cas’s lap and shrugs out of the top of half of his robe. “Gonna need to work up an appetite to finish all that food,” he murmurs. He ducks down to suck and bite at the spot on Cas’s neck that makes him weak in the knees.

Cas snorts. “Very subtle.”

“So, uh…” Dean bounces his eyebrows like a lecherous old man.

Cas’s stomach growls. “Can we postpone the exhibitionism until after we eat?”

“There’s no one around!”

He’s smiley when Cas kisses him.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Dean opens his mouth and Cas rolls his eyes. “Besides me.”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you, Castiel.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “I know you.”

“Yeah.”

It comes out much breathier than probably intended, and Cas can’t be expected not to kiss him. When they drift apart and Dean says, “Little bit of everything?” Cas gets up to make him a plate.

“Man,” Dean sighs, stretching out on the pillows. “This honeymoon thing is awesome.”

Cas hands him a plate piled high with bacon and eggs and pancakes and grins.

It really, truly is.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 7)

Summary: The reader spends her first Thanksgiving with Dean and his friends and she and Dean grow closer as a couple. But things change when a knock on the door happens one night...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, bad parenting, past child abuse, violence, blackmail

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Reader’s POV

Two Days Later

“We’re here!” called Dean as you followed him inside of his friend’s Donna and Benny’s house. Sam helped Toast navigate the cluster of shoes by the door as Tessa stepped in. 

“About time you Winchesters got here,” said a man poking his head out from down a hall. “Hey, somebody’s looking better.”

“Are you that firefighter?” asked Tessa.

“At your service,” he said as he walked over. “Benjamin Laffetite. My friends call me Benny.”

“Aw, he is like a big teddy bear, Dean,” you said. Benny gave Dean a side eye but smiled. “Nice to meet you in person. We missed you at the last party Dean had.”

“Likewise. Me and the missus were out of town. Come on ladies. Let these two handle the bags,” he said as Toast ran up and sniffed him. “Well aren’t you adorable? What’s your name?”

“Toast. He’s my service dog. Kinda,” said Tessa.

“We’ll save him a slice of turkey,” said Benny as he pet him. “Hey you single kid?”

“Benny,” said Dean with a sigh.

“Jack’s here,” said Benny before he turned the two of you. “He’s our buddy Cas’ little cousin. 18. Freshman at Elmdale. He’s got that whole sweetly naive innocent thing going on for him.”

“Benny!” said a young looking guy in a hoodie standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Jackie, come say hi to this chick out of your league. Give you some practice talking to girls,” said Benny with a smirk.

“Hi. He’s an ass,” said Jack before Toast wandered over to him. “This your dog?”

“Yeah,” she said as Toast started to lick him. “He likes you.”

She gave you a look and you waved for her to take off, Benny chuckling to himself.

“Always gotta harass the kids, don’t you, Benny,” said Dean. The boys exchanged quick hugs and Benny let out a big laugh.

“Well since Sammy got big enough to beat me up I had to pick easier targets,” said Benny. He gave you a smile and threw his arm over your shoulders. “I got this one boys.”

“Benny…” said Dean as Benny walked off with you. “Play nice.”

“Don’t I always?” he said. He showed you into a kitchen and stopped next to a blonde working over the stove. “Y/N this is my lovely gal, Donna. Deano set us up a few years back.”

“Oh you’re adorable,” she said, ditching a spoon in a pot before giving you a big hug.

“She’s a hugger,” said Benny as he took over the stove.

“We haven’t seen Dean in months. We were starting to think he fell off the face of the earth,” she said.

“Sorry. We uh, we’ve been busy with a lot lately,” you said, getting an eye roll from her.

“Don’t apologize. He is head over heels for you,” she said. “But I will fuck you up if you hurt him, okay?”

“Permission granted,” you said.

“Donna, she’s almost kicked ass for me before,” said Dean as he and Sam carried in two casserole dishes.

“Then she doesn’t have to worry, does she? So you a beer or wine kinda gal?” she asked.

“She likes bourbon,” said Cas as he walked in with a plate full of bugles held strangely close to his face.

“Why are you so weird buddy?” chuckled Dean, slapping Cas on the back. “Everybody else knows Y/N and Tessa for the most part.”

“I’ll take a beer for now,” you said. You followed Dean into the garage and grabbed a bottle from the cooler, a goofy smile crossing his face. “What?”

“I’m really happy you’re here is all,” he said. You set the beer down on the cooler and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, smiling back at him. 

“I really like when you’re happy.” He blushed a little as your nose grazed his. His eyes kept lock with yours though and you smiled as you saw the creases near them from his own. “I think I might be falling for you or something Winchester.”

“Fancy that. I could say the exact same,” he said. “The deranged woman shouting toast in the neighborhood.”

“The man who fell on his ass on my front porch,” you said. He giggled and you immediately kissed him, Dean pulling you flush against himself. “That just might be the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”

He grinned and you both heard the door open, Tessa coming out and digging around in a cooler for a soda. She looked a little tired as you picked up your and Dean’s beers, Dean ruffling her head slightly. She shut her eyes and you both smiled.

“You’re still recovering. Take it easy if you need to,” he said. 

“I know,” she hummed. She straightened up when Jack came out to get a drink, Tessa ducking back inside where it was warmer. 

“Jack,” said Dean with a whistle. “Why don’t you and Tessa go sit down and watch some football? Something easy going.”

“She likes football?” he asked.

“She got sick a few days ago and needs some rest is all,” you said. “But you don’t have to-”

“No that’s totally cool,” he said with a smile. 

“She is out of your league, Jack. Also in highschool,” said Dean. Jack held up his hands and Dean chuckled as he walked out. “Don’t worry about him. He’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.”

“Cas always brags about him. I figured he wouldn’t be like, an asshole,” you said. “So he’s like Cas’ nephew, right?”

“Technically, yes. Legally, he’s his kid. Cas’ whole family is full of nutjobs. Jack’s dad isn’t a great guy. Cas took custody of Jack about two years ago.”

“You ever talk to him about...taking charge before you’re ready?”

“Cas was twenty nine with a very good job and house and security and Jack was seventeen. They’re more like brothers I guess. Cas is one of my best friends but he doesn’t...get it. His parents help a lot. I know you know the difference.”

“I do,” you said. You gave him another kiss and slipped back inside with him, a woman you didn’t recognize giving you a smile as she popped into the garage. “You know her?”

“Must be a friend of Donna’s,” he said as he took your hand. “You’re all chilly. Let’s get you warmed up, sweetheart.”

“I’m officially stuffed,” said Dean that night back at home after his fifth slice of pie that day. He was in his onesie and you’d slipped into your gray one, Dean hopping over the back of the couch and pulling you into his side. 

Tessa hummed as she skipped downstairs sporting a pink and white one, Sam sighing loudly as Toast trotted down the steps.

“Sammy, you look cute!” called Tessa. She sounded a little too pleased with herself and Dean gave her a fist bump just as Sam walked around the corner. His was black and he had the hood up, a pout on his face.

“Aw, he’s adorable,” you said.

“I hate you. All of you,” said Sam as he stretched out on the other end of the wrap around.

“Sam, share,” said Tessa. He smirked and flipped her as he pulled her down, Tessa yelping but letting out a few giggles. He sat back and she leaned back against him, leaving enough room for Toast to use his pillow on the floor to hop up onto the end.

“Alright, now that everyone’s settled, let’s watch some football,” said Dean.

About an hour later Tessa was passed out on top of Sam, Sam breathing softly as he slept as well. You looked at Dean to find he was watching them too, a silly look on his face.

“We should do onesies for Christmas Eve too,” you said.

“Definitely. This was the best thanksgiving I think Sammy and me have ever had.”

“Really?”

“I got my girl. I got my little sis and brother. Got my dog. Sammy really liked that Eileen girl he met today. This is definitely up there as one of the best days ever,” he said.

“You know how earlier I said I was falling for you?” you smirked.

“Oh yes. That was a highlight of the day,” he chuckled quietly. 

“Looking over at those two, this is the first time she’s not cried on a holiday in years. She had a really good day and I don’t feel like I’m fucking this up as much as I was anymore and I know it’s because of you.”

“Oh I’m doing this all for entirely selfish reasons,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Very selfish.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile. 

“I’ve only ever let one person in, all that way down to the shit deep down there. I love my friends and I’d do anything for them. I’d give ‘em a kidney if they needed it. But it was only ever Sam my whole life that got all the way in. Lately though, there’s this girl and she’s making me rethink some things and for the first time in my life, I let somebody else in and it feels terrifying but I’m happy in a way I didn’t think I’d have. She’s making me a better person and I feel so good and I am going to keep being incredibly selfish about that.”

He tilted his head down as you leaned up, meeting him for a kiss. It was soft and lingered, Dean cupping your cheek. You moved and he went with it, slow and lazy, laying back and enjoying a playful game. Something swelled up inside of you and burst open, a moment of pause as you took a breath. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes and you tried to look away before Dean saw but he was still holding your face, big green eyes locking onto yours.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, wiping away the sticky droplets.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m happy. I’m so happy right now I don’t understand.”

“You let me in,” he said gently. “Way down you let me in just now, didn’t you.”

“I don’t understand why I’m crying,” you said.

“Because the last people you let in there, it broke your heart when you lost them,” he said. “Don’t be scared of losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and put your palm against his chest, Dean wiping off your face. His heart thumped along evenly, strong and steady. He nodded and he turned off the TV, carrying you up to bed. He sat you down and lay down beside you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you said. He propped himself up on his elbow and you rolled over to meet him. 

“Sweetheart you can’t go around living scared of people dying on you. It’s-”

“It’s not that,” you said. “I just...can I ask an unaskable favor?”

“What?”

“If something happened to me, would you help take care of Tessa, until she’s ready to be on her own?” you asked.

“Why do you think something-”

“Dean could you just…” you said before he nodded.

“If anything ever happened, Tessa will always have us,” he said. “I swear.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for that,” he said. He stroked your cheek again and offered a soft smile. “Is there something you’re not telling me sweetheart?”

“The last boyfriend I had I was twenty three. I’d been with him for three years. I thought he was gonna be the one, you know?” 

“What happened?” he asked quietly, still tracing over your skin.

“He moved away after school for a job. It was working until it wasn’t. It was amicable. I still...never quite got over him I suppose. After the accident, he reached out to make sure I was doing okay. I really wasn’t but he was coming into town to see his parents anyways so he stopped over. I thought he cared, maybe I could let the wall down a little and it’d be okay. But he was so rude to her. She was in a real bad place at first and he just...was a dick and I got over him like that for good. But you, and Sam, I feel like, you’re the kind of the people that...if I dropped dead this second you’d be over her house ten years from now helping her put up a shelf or you’d take her out for drinks or something and the fact that she has people she can depend on and I don’t have to worry about her as much...it just kinda hit me tonight, you know?”

“I do. You have people you can depend on too,” he said. You leaned over and kissed him, Dean sliding his hand to the back of your head. “It gets easier. I promise it does.”

“I know,” you said.

“Let’s have a little quiet day at home tomorrow. Maybe we can put up the tree,” he said. “That sound fun?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.”

Two Weeks Later

“Tessa,” you said as she zipped up her winter jacket in the foyer. 

“Y/N. I’m going over Jack’s to play video games, I swear,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Cas and Kelly will be home anyways.”

“Your shirt’s on backwards, doofus,” teased Dean from the couch. She huffed and took off her jacket, fixing it as Sam jogged down the stairs in a suit.

“Hot date tonight, Sammy?” she teased.

“At least I know how to dress myself,” he shot back. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” she said. She put her jacket back on and hooked up Toast’s leash the two of them heading out.

“You think she’s actually going over to play video games or make out with him?” asked Dean.

“Both?” you laughed.

“Not bad plans if I say so myself,” he said, pulling you into his lap. The doorbell rang and he groaned. “Stay put. We have a makeout session to get to.”

He hopped up and went over to the door, immediately shutting it.

“Something wrong?” you asked as he walked back. He shook his head, the doorbell ringing again, you got up and went to the door, hearing Sam talking loudly outside with someone. You peeked the door open and saw a man on the front porch, Sam rolling his eyes and walking away from a woman. He got in the car and drove off with Tessa, the man giving you a look. “Can I help you?”

“We’d like to speak to Dean,” he said.

“Who are you?” you asked.

“His father,” he said, pushing the door open wide. “Who are you?”

“His girlfriend,” you said, stepping in front of him with crossed arms. “I don’t recall inviting you into my home.”

“Leave. Both of you,” said Dean as they both stepped into the foyer. “I said-”

“We want to speak to you. In private,” he said.

“I don’t think-” you got out before he got in your face and glared down at you. You swallowed. He was as big as Dean but there was something off to him.

“Dean. Private,” said his father. 

“Y/N, go upstairs. Please,” said Dean. You sighed but went up, hanging around the balcony to try and overhear them in the family room below. “What the fuck are you two shitheads doing at my house?”

There was a thud and you froze, listening for more.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” said Dean, his voice slightly off.

“You know how this works.”

“Why don’t you get a job lazy ass? Oh wait. You get fired for being drunk at yours?” said Dean. There was another thud and you took out your phone, trying to record whatever was going on. “Oh punching. Very mature of…” said Dean before he gasped and made a whining sound.

“You know how this goes. She calls and you pay. Now pay or we’ll tell Sam the truth.”

“That you’re a sack of shit? He already-” said Dean before he went quiet.

“Have the money tomorrow by noon at the locker or else Sammy’s gonna drop you like the sack of shit you are, Dean. He’s gonna hate you for taking him from us and you know it.”

“I saved his-”

“No, no Dean. You were pathetic and couldn’t stand the thought of being alone so you took Sam. You pay us every few years. That’s the deal for us staying away. If you go back on your word now, we’ll go back on ours.”

“I’m done with you blackmailing me for-” said Dean before there was another thud.

“I’m done with you thinking you’re better than us. You’re nothing, understand boy?” he said. You went over to the hall closet and grabbed a baseball bat, walking downstairs to catch John staring down at the floor, Dean sat back against the wall holding his side.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you said, gripping the bat tightly.

“Noon, Dean,” he said. He walked out with Mary on his tail. You quickly locked up and rushed over to Dean who had his eyes shut and was sporting a few bruises on his face. 

“Jesus Dean,” you said. You moved his hand and saw a bruise on his ribs, Dean holding up a hand when you tried to move him.

“Give me a second,” he said. You picked up the bat and he caught your wrist, shaking his head. “He doesn’t have any problem hitting a woman, Y/N.”

“I should be calling the cops,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said when you tried to tug away. “Please don’t.”

You put down the bat and he dropped your hand. You cupped his cheeks and he winced.

“I need to take you to the hospital,” you said. He shook his head and you shook it right back. “Dean.”

“Help me over to the counter,” he said. You hooked an arm under his and got him up, walking him over to one of the stools. You sat him down, Dean inhaling sharply. You got out the first aid kit from the cabinet and set it down, taking a kitchen towel and wetting it before you dabbed it against this cheek. It soaked up a little blood and you frowned, Dean looking away.

“Dean I recorded the whole thing on my phone. It’s still going on the stairs. We gotta call-“

“Y/N. Just…don’t.” He started to grab the bag and stand when you scoffed. “I can handle this.”

He got up and started to walk, slowing down after a moment and holding his side again. He stopped by the back of the couch and dropped his head. You sighed and took the bag from him, throwing his arm over your shoulders and walking him upstairs, grabbing your phone along the way. You walked him into the bathroom and he sat up on the counter, leaning back against the wall with a wince.

You helped him out of his shirt and saw the bruise was darkening over his ribs, Dean shutting his eyes.

“Hand me your little mirror,” he said, pointing over to your vanity. You picked it up off the counter, Dean holding it up and looking at his face. “Alright. Can you get me-”

“Stop. I got this.” You used a washcloth and got it wet again, holding it against his cheek and around his eye. He tried looking down but kept moving his head and you settled on putting some more cold water on the towel, pressing it over his skin again. When it seemed like the bleeding had stopped you dug out some medication, dabbing it over the cuts. He was quiet, holding his side while you put a butterfly bandage over his cheek. You peeled his hand away and figured there wasn’t much you could do for his ribs.

You went downstairs and got some painkillers and an ice pack, returning to Dean right where you left him. 

“Here,” you said, dropping the pills in his hand. He took them with a quick gulp of water, hissing as the cold touched his skin but he soon relaxed. You held the pack for him, Dean taking a deep breath. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean. Your dad just-”

“This is not the first time and it probably won’t be the last,” he said. 

“Now I’m definitely calling the cops,” you said. You reached for your phone but he grabbed it first, holding it over his head. “Dean. He hurt you. He can’t just come into our house and do that.”

“What I need you to do is take my debit card, go to the ATM and take out five thousand from my savings and five thousand from checking. Hundreds is fine. Okay?” he said. “The PIN is-”

“I’m not doing anything other than putting you in bed,” you said. He glared and you gave it right back. You grabbed his arm and pushed him into the room and over to the bed, Dean laying back against the headboard reluctantly. “Why on earth do you-”

“It’s how I got Sam,” he said. “Custody of him when I was eighteen. We didn’t go to court. I paid them off. It was five grand at first and it tied them over for a bit but when he turned eighteen, they called and wanted more. Every three years they call. Last time it got bumped up to ten thousand. They called around the time I met you and I didn’t pay this year hence the ass kicking.”

“But why do you still pay them off?” you asked.

“Because Y/N,” he said. You crossed your arms and he slammed his fist against his pillow. “Because Sam was the favorite. He didn’t get the shit kicked…” 

Dean trailed off and shut his mouth, looking away. You sat up next to him, holding his free hand and holding him as best you could.

“I got the worst of it but that’s not to say Sam didn’t get some. I knew, I knew that fucker would hurt him once I was gone and I couldn’t stay so Sam had to come with me. I tried looking up how to get custody and that sort of thing and they found out about it,” said Dean. He laughed and you ran your hand through his hair. “Tonight? That was nothing compared to what happened after they found out. But my drunk of a father, well, he owed money and I had some saved up from working for my Uncle Bobby. So I paid to get Sam the fuck out of there. They claimed it was because they were going to travel and wanted Sam to be able to stay in school and shit. It was all shit. Now...now they tried their best to make him hate me on the way out, make it seem like I was stealing him from them. Plant those little seeds. You can’t kill an idea once it’s in there. So I did what I had to and I keep doing what I have to and they stay away from us. It’s how it goes.”

“Do you...do you pay them not to hurt you?” you asked.

“No.”

“Then what’s it for?”

“He will hate me if he knows the truth.”

“Dean he won’t-”

“Our parents fucked us up. I literally bought custody of my baby brother. How is that not fucked up?”

“It’s a fucked up situation. You though, you are not fucked up,” you said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Your father is...a monster and I don’t know what the fuck is up with your mom but you are good. Sam is good. You have the biggest fucking heart of anyone I’ve ever known. Sam would never hate you for getting him out of that situation. Never. But I don’t understand why you keep paying them money, Dean.”

“So they don’t tell him the truth.”

“The truth doesn’t sound all that bad though. He-”

“If he finds out I’ve lied to him for half of his life, he will not forgive me for that. We tell each other all our crap because we’re the only ones that can understand what went on in that house and I can’t risk losing him.”

“There’s more to it,” you said. Dean shut his eyes and nodded. “Dean, what is it?”

“I stole money,” he said. “When I was eighteen. We needed food and rich people don’t notice when twenty, fifty bucks goes missing out of a drawer. If you just take a little, they don’t notice. Well, my father found out about it and threatened to have me arrested if we didn’t come to some kind of payment plan. He was proof and I don’t deny I did it. We needed-”

“You stole from my dad,” you said.

“I did. Money out of his desk drawer at work. He caught me red handed and in one second I thought my life and Sam’s lives were over. I just...started crying and he shut the door and he gave me some money and he took the rest of the afternoon off and we got some stuff like clothes and toothpaste and food and he gave me a job as a paralegal intern. I had no fucking idea what I was doing and he helped me get into school and I worked there and made way more than I did in the mailroom and he’d have dinner with Sammy and me at our place once a month. You have no idea how badly I wanted him to my dad. But we knew he had a real family so we tried not to bother him. By the time I got into med school, Sam was going into his first year and we were on our feet. I’d gotten a good job at a medical place but he checked in every once in a while. I didn’t know he’d died until I met you. I always thought we’d take him out and repay him someday. If he wasn’t kind that day...I’d have nothing.”

“I’ll share my father with you and Sam any day.” He smiled and you kissed him, Dean starting to relax. “So your dad has proof of you stealing money? How much?”

“I wasn’t particularly great at it. Sam and I both had jobs. It was probably a hundred bucks,” he said.

“How’d he get proof?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“How would he have proof of you stealing from some random person?” you asked.

“He has photos,” he said. “He showed me.”

“Photos of…”

“Me with the money.”

“Outside of someone’s house?” you asked.

“I was in my car,” he said. 

“Dean. Where was the car?”

“Outside...work,” he said, thinking to himself. “Your dad...he gave me money that day. There was never any proof. I just let him manipulate me again into doing what he wanted.”

“How much did you steal Dean. Altogether?”

“A few hundred bucks?”

“You donate some money to charity?” you asked as he nodded. “Your debt to society has been repaid, trust me. No more feeling guilty. Plus when my dad the lawyer lets you off the hook, it’s fine.”

“Sam still can’t know.”

“Sam’s been outside the door for most of this conversation,” he said. He turned around the corner, Tessa there with him. “Fuck, Dean. What happened to your face?”

“Are you okay?” Tessa asked, climbing up on the bed.

“I thought you had a hot date,” he said. “The both of you.”

“Jack’s just a friend,” she said.

“Eileen understands,” said Sam. “Besides, we both got a bad feeling after mom and dad showed up like that.”

“You really thought it was appropriate for an 18 year old to hear all that?” asked Dean.

“Considering all the shit I just learned about you at 18, I’d say I’m good,” said Tessa. She fidgeted a little and Dean sat up more.

“You can hug him. Carefully,” you said. She moved up to his other side and gave him a gentle one, Dean chuckling.

“I love you too, dork,” he said. He watched with a swallow as Sam stepped inside and moved the icepack from Dean’s body. Dean stared up and Sam sat on the edge of the bed, placing the pack back. “I’m-”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing,” said Sam. “You protected me and that’s all there was to it. Everytime she calls, talking to her tonight, I still get manipulated too. I don’t know why they hate us so much and it’s wrong but you aren’t. Not you.”

“Y/N’s offered up their parents if we’d like to take ‘em,” said Dean.

“Mr. Y/L/N was your guys dad?” said Sam as you and Tessa nodded. “You know I met you once Tessa. You must have been five. You were bragging about something to do with kindergarten.”

“How’d you remember that?” she asked.

“Cause I was so fucking jealous of you. You were so happy,” he said. She looked down but Sam laughed. “It worked out how it was supposed to.”

“You’re a lawyer, can’t you like, do something?” she said, glancing at Dean. 

“Tessa, this isn’t that simple,” said Dean.

“Yeah, it is,” she said. He nodded and she relaxed some. “I don’t think you should pay anything. He should pay you while he’s at it.”

“Yeah,” he said, ruffling her head and wrapping his arm around her. He looked at Sam and then you before you nodded. He wouldn’t say anything about his father. Sam was grown and bigger than himself yet Dean still kept paying. With you and Tessa around, there was no way he was risking a thing.

“Sam,” you said. You both got up, Dean pouting when he realized he wasn’t getting up without some help. You walked down to Sam’s room and he shut the door, crossing his arms. “We can’t let him keep paying off your father. Tessa has a point. You’re a lawyer. What are our options?”

“There’s not blackmail evidence and our parents would claim it was a gift. The only things I can think of that we’d have a shot would be the incident tonight which he’d be out on bail like that anyways and...stuff that happened when we were kids.”

“Sam he came to our house.”

“I know,” he said, rubbing your arms. “Dean always gets quiet for a few days after something like this happens. Nobody is paying anything. I’ll make sure Dean doesn’t leave the house tomorrow morning.”

“What do you think John would do? Will do?”

“I don’t know. He’s an abusive dick, not a psychopath.”

“Did you ever tell my dad about this stuff?” 

“Dean did a bit I think.”

“Good,” you said as you left the room.

“Why good?”

“Because if I know my dad, he made a note of it and put it on record with a judge,” you said as you headed downstairs.

“Y/N,” said Dean from the end of the hall, leaning on Tessa. “Where are you going?”

“To see if dad ever reported John. Or at least kept a file on him. We still know the partners at his old firm. I’ll be back in an hour,” you said. “Two tops.”

“Sam go with her,” said Dean. “Please.”

“Tessa, put him back in bed and get him a fresh icepack in fifteen minutes. Get some food too, okay?” you said, tugging on your winter coat. “Oh and take Toast-”

“I got it,” she said.

“We’ll be back soon,” said Sam. “Hopefully with some good news.”

_______ 

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

[thisistheblogyourelookingfor]

Could I get preferences of how Sam Dean and Cas would react to finding out that after everything they've been through, (the apocalypse, the angels falling and the angel war that came after that, Leviathan, etc.) that she still goes to church every Sunday morning. Maybe she was able to hide it for so long because she'd always come back with dunkin doughnuts and coffee for everyone so it just looked like she would get breakfast every Sunday morning and the boys only find out otherwise when Chuck is staying in the bunker and he makes a comment about it. Maybe something along the lines of 'We're living under the same roof and you still feel the need to go to Church every Sunday.'

absolutely! 

also this wasn’t supposed to be sad/angsty ?? but I feel like this topic is a difficult one, especially with all that the boys have been through regarding it all... so I tried to make it as honest as I could. hopefully it’s still to your liking though!

Sam

sam is definitely going to be the one who will understand

I mean he went a majority of his life believing in something greater and he put his hope and trust in God

I think he would admire the faith that you still have and the strength it takes you to regularly attend church amidst everything going on in your lives

he’d probably change the subject at the table pretty quickly because he can see the attention from the others is making you a little uncomfortable

but later that night you're curled up against him in bed and he decides to ask you about it again now that the two of you are alone

“do you think you could tell me a little more about it?”

“oh... sure” you hesitantly respond.

and he’ll listen

two hours later and you've explained to him why you are so diligent to attend services and while he may not understand it all, he doesn’t question you further. 

he doesn’t ask why or how could you? 

he doesn’t make you feel any different.

he just holds you tighter and kisses your forehead softly, glad that you’ve found something in this crazy world that keeps you tethered to the ground

Dean 

okay he’s going to be the hard one 

when he first finds out you’d all be sitting around the table

you’d confess: “yeah, I’ve been going for a few years now.”

dean would look at you before letting out a laugh “yeah, alright. and I bet you pray by your bedside every night, too, sweetheart.”

and ooh boy does that not only hurt you but it also gets on your nerves

“actually, I do.” you’d reply curtly.

sam and cas would take that as their cue to leave

“you're not actually serious about it all, right?”

you remain silent

his smile would drop as soon as he realizes you’re being serious 

“y/n, no. how can you follow some being who’s been manipulating us our entire lives? how can you put him on a pedestal? how could you even trust anything related to him?”

“you trust castiel.” 

“that’s different.”

“is it?”

it would be an argument that would end in one of you storming out of the room (most likely you)

a week. that’s how long it would take for dean winchester to get his head out of his ass and listen to sam’s advice and confront you

and he would take it a bit further, stepping entirely out of his comfort zone for you

it’s Sunday morning, you're ready to leave and are just about to grab your keys when a hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. you turn to see dean standing there, dressed up in a henley and his nicest pair of jeans. “if we’re going to church, we’re driving up in style.” he says, offering you a smirk as he dangles his keys in the air. 

you’re frozen momentarily and your heart softens at what you understand to be his attempt at an apology. you hook your arm in his and allow him to lead you to the impala, he even goes so far as to open the door for you. 

once in service, he tries his best to be on his best behavior

surprisingly he even sings

well, sort of...

“dean, are you seriously mumbling lynyrd skynyrd right now?”

“what? it has roughly the same beat.”

“okay maybe try something other than ‘poison whiskey’!”

but you have to admit, you appreciate the effort

that would be the only time he accompanies you, but enough was said by that one gesture that you know while he doesn’t understand or necessarily agree with you about religion, he loves you and respects you enough to not discourage it

Cas

honestly what an angel (quite literally)

I think confusion would be his initial reaction

like he just has such a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact 

his immediate thought is “oh, well humans were created for that purpose” but then with the way dean and sam seem to react to celestial beings that aren’t himself, he doesn’t understand why you would then willingly seek out religion

so he'd ask you about it

you’d be in your room laying in bed after a tense discussion with sam and dean about everything and he would knock gently before opening the door. you'd feel the edge of the bed dip down beside you

“will you explain this to me, y/n? I’d like to understand.”

after a few seconds of silence, you would sit up and face him

“it’s nice having something to believe in.” you’d respond, proceeding to tell him why you attended church

he'd sit and listen diligently, nodding every once in a while

in the end, he’d most likely still be confused as to exactly why, but he knows going to church is an important aspect of your life and he appreciates the way it makes you feel like you have something to hold onto in the world

honestly? he might even feel a little self conscious about the whole thing, given that he’s an angel himself

“just remember, you can always pray to me, too.”

[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

[fortunesfavours]

My gift for @casismymrdarcy as part of @starrynightdeancas wonderful gift exchange. I had so much fun writing this! Definitely going to try AUs like this more. A short and sweet one-shot featuring Dean as a camp counselor, ghost summoning, and the cute counselor from Cabin Three getting caught in the rain. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1189

Continued below the cut, will be up on AO3 once I decide on a title.

CW: slight mention of John Winchester/rough family life

Generally, in all of Dean’s sum 25 years of life experience, letting a pack of eight-year-olds that were already positively intoxicated on sugar near candles, a lighter, and his co-counselor’s Ouija board was a truly horrific idea. Yet, here he was, weary head in his hands, attempting to supervise the most hare-brained idea of the week. His co-counselor, an energetic woman named Clara he had first met at the staff meeting a few days before, was on her break, leaving him alone with their cabin. She had pulled him aside in the dinner line and told him that she had “stuff to let the kids experiment with” in a box under her bunk. He had (foolishly) assumed this would probably be art supplies, perhaps some glitter glue and cardstock, or maybe pony beads and string, but alas, here he was.

He had opened the box that had once apparently held Kirkland-brand orange juice to find an intricately-carved wooden plank, detailed with curling vines and celestial objects, as well as the alphabet, numbers, and a small selection of words engraved in a rather medieval-looking font. On top was an equally-ornate planchette, a pack of tea lights, a lighter painted with a spiderweb, and a sticky-note addressed to him.

“Dean,

Have fun ;) Break ends at 1 am, going into town. Don’t burn down the cabin.”

Dean had sighed, rolling his eyes and mourning his choice of summer job. Charlie had sung the praises of her childhood camp to him when he had mentioned his search, leading Dean to sign up as a counselor.

One of the kids, a little girl named Ella, was calling for Dean. He shook himself back to focus to see her frustratedly trying to work the lighter. The kids had set up a wobbly circle of candles around the board, and were clustered around it. Ella’s nose is scrunched up with concentration, and Dean pushes himself out of his chair to light the candles for them. He deftly sets the tea lights alight, and the room starts to smell of beeswax. One of the kids has scrambled over to the lightswitch, and with a flick of a switch, the cabin is filled with warm, flickering candlelight.

The kids promptly start an eager discussion of the proper way to summon a ghost, and Dean so desperately wants to just go to bed. Sure, his dad had been a little over-interested in these sorts of things, but that sure as hell didn’t mean he was going to pull out his childhood familiarity with the paranormal. He can almost see himself as a young child in their faces, bright with eager curiosity and uninhibited trust in the world around them. His chest twinges a bit at the thought, but he catches himself before he can start to dwell on his family issues. He and Sam are out now, out and living their lives. He can be a camp counselor now, he can think about the cute guy in charge of Cabin Three with the blue eyes and not hate himself for it. Dean chuckles, leaning back in his chair, and jokingly calls out, “You should try Latin.”

Charlie, a tall, gangly kid with serious eyes and a way of walking that vaguely reminded Dean of a bird, bounces in their seat at this suggestion. “I know Pig Latin! My cousin taught me!”

This new addition is eagerly accepted by the children, who clearly have decided that this is quite a good substitute for proper Latin. Dean closes his eyes and yawns, mind drifting to thoughts of rest and the chocolate bar he had stashed in his backpack. He could almost fall asleep here, listening to the crackle of the candles and the pounding of the rain outside. Reluctantly keeping himself awake, he tuned back in to hear the group chanting something that with translation was most definitely “ghosts of Lakeside Camp, we summon you” interspersed with humming of what might have been the camp theme song, and which also may have been some pop song Dean can’t conjure the name of. Their voices start to crescendo, getting more discordant but also more eager. All at once, there’s a pounding knock on the door combined with a boom of thunder, then a flash of lighting. One voice lets out a quickly-muffled scream as a gust blows through the cabin and extinguishes the candles. The cabin goes silent but for the rain, full of wide eyes and scared faces.

Dean looks around and as he opens his mouth to comfort his campers, is interrupted by another knock. He silently moves to the door, opening it a crack so as to not startle the campers. When he locks eyes with Cabin Three’s counselor, dripping wet and wiping rain off his face, Dean decides that this is either his lucky day or the gods cursing him. Only one way to find out, he thinks.

“Man, you’re drenched.” he says, and immediately curses internally. What an introduction. The man blinks a few times, and responds entirely genuinely, “My umbrella broke. May I come in?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll grab you a towel.” Dean swings the door open, and the man steps in, only to be greeted by twelve terrified faces.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that everyone. This is just… uh-” he glances over at the man, who realizes after a moment what Dean is asking for. “Castiel. I’m Cabin Three’s counselor.” The kids murmur amongst themselves before one speaks up.

“You’re not a ghost, right?”

Castiel squints, and Dean can’t help but find it adorable. “Not as far as I know.”

Hurrying off to grab a towel, Dean rifles through his suitcase before returning with his pool towel and handing it to Castiel. He gladly accepts it, and promptly wanders off to stand in a corner and attempt to dry his rain-drenched hair.

Dean spends the next hour herding campers through the process of getting ready for bed, sneaking conversation with Castiel in between. However, all this does is further send Dean absolutely further into his developing crush. With every sentence exchanged, Cas is nothing but clever, kind, and utterly unlike anyone Dean has ever met. By the time the kids are all asleep and the cabin is tidied up, the rain has subsided into a light drizzle. Cas, though, makes no mention of leaving. Instead, he and Dean wander out onto the porch to continue talking. By the time Dean’s co-counselor returns, Cas has to excuse himself back to his cabin. As Dean turns to go inside, Cas calls out and offers a folded piece of paper. Before Dean can open it, he smiles a beautifully soft smile, turns on his heel, and vanishes into the foggy night.

When Dean opens the paper later that night, he can’t contain the smile that breaks out over his face.

“Dean,

Go out with me tomorrow? I know a place I think you’d like.

Cas <3”

When they get ice cream the next day, they share a kiss over a sundae and Dean decides that taking this job was the best decision he’s made yet.

[surlybobbies]

deancas AU, 2.4k, T

[It’s a mini pride & prejudice AU if you squint. this is only on tumblr for now, just a rough thing  to tide you over until my bakery AU is finished. some light tws: discussion of sexual harassment, implied homophobia. it’s a happy ending, though, dw.]

-----

Cas met Sam’s brother at a company mixer. 

“I threatened to change my Netflix password if he didn’t come,” Sam said surreptitiously to Cas, casting a look at Dean, sitting a distance away at the bar. “He thinks we’re all stuffy assholes, so I figured he could see for himself.”

Cas was both stuffy and an asshole, but he didn’t mention that. “Well, I hope he has a nice time,” he said. 

Sam clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Thanks, dude, I appreciate that.”

Cas lingered on the outskirts of his party for the next hour or so. Some well-meaning coworkers drew him into bland conversation, but for the most part, Cas was left alone. He found, however, that his gaze kept being drawn to Dean Winchester, whose mouth kept doing sinful things to a beer bottle. Sometimes - though maybe Cas was imagining it - Dean’s eyes would find Cas’s gaze and linger.

A few minutes after Cas’s second beer of the night, Sam found Cas again. “Hey,” Sam said, looking at Cas curiously. “Garth mentioned that you own this place?”

Cas shrugged, a little embarrassed. “My father left it to me. I leave most of the management to others, but I stop by on the weekends to sign off on the bigger things.”

“So that’s how we got such a huge discount,” Sam said. “Thanks, dude. That’s nice of you.”

Cas was not hurting for money, and asshole or not, he’d wanted to do something nice for his colleagues. “Please don’t mention it,” he said, and meant it.

Sam’s smile was wide. He was about to reply, but a commotion by the bar stole their focus. One of Sam and Cas’s colleagues was in Dean’s face, a fist wound back behind his head in an obvious threat. Dean was still on his stool, his hands still cradling his beer bottle on the bar counter, but his chin was raised defiantly toward the other man.

“Shit,” Sam said faintly.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Cas murmured to Sam. He began winding his way through the crowd. By the time he got to the bar, security had already wrestled the other man’s raised fist behind his back and were dragging him - yelling and struggling - toward the exit, leaving Dean to stare after them.

“Should I be concerned?” Cas said, once he got close enough.

Dean’s eyes flicked over Cas’s tie and button down dismissively. “Nah,” he said, taking a swig from his bottle and looking away. “Doesn’t concern you.”

Cas sat on the stool to Dean’s left. “I own this place,” he said, and hoped Dean wouldn’t think it was a brag. “I think it does concern me.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. A corner of his mouth lifted in mock amusement. He swung his body to face Cas a little more. “Then tell me what you’re doing to keep the ladies tending bar from being harassed by dumbasses like the guy who was just about to knock the skull off my spine.”

Cas looked at Tori behind the bar, who’d been eavesdropping.

She shrugged. “It happens, Cas,” she said. “Part of the job.”

Dean snorted. “‘Specially around these parts, with these stuffy business types who make way too much money for their own good. Think they own anyone who can’t afford a porsche.”

Tori looked sad. 

Cas caught her eye. “Tori, may I speak to you in the back?” 

Dean was looking at him with hard eyes. “Gonna fire her for what I did?”

Cas was taken aback. “Of course not. I wanted her opinion.” He stepped away from Dean. “Thank you for standing up for her.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and turned away, lifting his bottle to his mouth.

Tori was waiting for Cas in the back. She was a young mom working her way through her degree. She was also one of Cas’s hardest workers. 

“He’s good,” Tori said immediately, correctly guessing one of Cas’s questions. “He heard the other guy being an asshole and decided he didn’t want to hear more.”

Cas was still troubled. “You said harassment was part of the job. It shouldn’t be.”

Tori frowned. “I’m a girl behind a bar serving men their alcohol,” she said, as if that were enough of an explanation. “Harassment is part of the job. Doesn’t matter what you think.”

“You still deserve respect,” Cas said, hurt. “You and the others.”

“Duh,” Tori said. “But if you kick out one creep, another one takes his place.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, genuinely confused. “Are you suggesting I get used to the idea that my employees get harassed on a regular basis?”

“You were fine with it before.”

Cas’s face burned in shame. “I - I had no idea. I didn’t - I didn’t think.”

Tori shrugged. Not my problem, she seemed to say with her shoulders.

“Would it help to have security stationed near the bar?”

Tori smiled a little bit. “Can we sic ‘em on creeps any time we want?”

“If that would help,” Cas said. “Would it?”

Tori’s eyes were soft. “A little bit.” She offered Cas a smile. “People call you an asshole, but you’re really not.”

Cas frowned. “Don’t tell people that.”

Tori laughed. Cas sincerely hoped her night would get better.

Suddenly, Cas remembered the green-eyed man sitting at the bar. “Also,” he added, “If you could put Dean’s drinks on my tab?”

Tori’s smile was kind. “Whatever you say, boss,” she said. She gave an awkward little wave before returning to her station.

Cas lingered in the back for a while, not wanting to return to socializing, and especially not wanting to catch Dean’s eye and see that spark of derision in them. Cas was comfortable with his reputation as a stuffy asshole, but something about the narrow-eyed way Dean had looked at him made Cas’s chest tight.

A few minutes later he escaped from the back room and slunk toward the front door, eyes on the ground, refusing eye contact with anybody. It was only when he was outside, approaching his car, that he could breathe easy. 

But then he heard a voice call out from behind him.

“Hey! You! Cas!”

Cas turned around. It was Dean. He was wearing flannel and jeans. He looked warm despite his breath rising up as fog in front of him. “Dean,” Cas greeted. His heart thudded a little faster.

“You know my name,” Dean said suspiciously.

“Your brother,” Cas explained. “He said he threatened to take away your Netflix privileges if you didn’t come.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s a lie. He wanted me to play wingman for him, but he did just fine on his own.”

“If you’re talking about Eileen, they’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

“That’s the one,” Dean said. “They’re in there giggling over margaritas. I think Tori’s a little too generous with the tequila tonight.”

Cas stomped his feet in the cold. “I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves regardless.”

“Yeah.” Dean looked at the ground. “Speaking of drinks,” he said awkwardly, “thanks for the freebies.”

“The least I could do,” Cas said, waving away his thanks. “You succeeded where I’ve apparently failed in keeping my employees comfortable.”

“Tori said you’re gonna hire more security?”

“I only hope it actually helps.”

“Just ask her next time,” Dean suggested. 

“I will,” Cas assured him. “I’ll also make copies of security tapes so leadership can review what happened with my colleague. Hopefully he won’t be my colleague for much longer.”

Dean smiled at him. It was a nice smile, the first Cas had seen from him. 

Cas looked at the keys in his hands, swallowing down his helpless, hopeless attraction to Dean. “Well, I better - “

Dean interrupted him. He stepped closer and looked at Cas significantly. “You wanna get out of here?”

From up close, Cas could see the gentle laugh lines around Dean’s eyes. The stubborn set of Dean’s jaw was gone, replaced by a hopeful, lopsided grin. 

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, confused. There was no way Dean was hitting on him, right?

Dean rubbed a hand over his chin. “I can’t compete with a whole-ass bar, but my apartment’s pretty sweet. Got some damn good coffee too, if I may say so myself.” He jerked a thumb to his right. “I’ll drive. Swear I only had the one beer.”

Cas looked over his shoulder at his own car. He knew it’d be fine where it was - potentially even until morning. He looked back at Dean and pocketed his keys. “Coffee sounds great,” he said. 

----

They had coffee in Dean’s apartment, sitting at Dean’s dining table and chatting. Dean’s laughter came easier when he was at home and at ease, and Cas found himself leaning closer and closer with every sip of coffee, eager for Dean’s next smile. 

At the end of the night, after Cas turned down Dean’s offer for another cup of coffee, Dean leaned in and kissed Cas goodbye, his hand warm on Cas’s face. The kiss eventually led to another kiss, and another, and another, until Dean suggested Cas stay the night instead. He was unbuttoning Cas’s shirt when he suggested it, and Cas could think of nothing better in that moment, so he canceled his rideshare with one hand before dropping his phone on the carpet and ridding Dean of his shirt.

In the morning, Dean brought Cas coffee in bed.

----

“Thanks for letting Dean stick around, by the way,” Sam said one Friday, a few months later. Cas’s coworkers had made Cas’s bar the setting for their biweekly get-togethers. “I know there was that issue a few months ago with Cole.” Cole was their now-former dickbag colleague. 

Cas looked at the bar, where Dean was chatting with Tori. “Of course,” he said. “I’m just glad he likes it here.”

“I’m surprised, to be honest,” Sam said. “He usually can’t stand being around business types.”

Cas hid a smile and didn’t respond.

It was a few minutes later that there was a commotion by the bar. Cas had hired more security, but there were still a few bust-ups that couldn’t be prevented - especially when Dean was at the bar.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw who was at the center of the ruckus. 

Cas sighed and wound his way through the crowd. Luckily security was already there, though they hadn’t yet removed anyone. 

“Problem?” he asked.

The man in Dean’s face was seething. “This your boyfriend?” he mocked.

“The owner, actually,” Cas said, standing next to Dean and surreptitiously grabbing the back of his jacket. “But yes, also his boyfriend.”

The man’s face turned red. He had a suit on and smelled like he’d bathed in cologne. “Should have known this place was - “

Security was hauling the guy out of the bar before he could finish - fortunately, too, because Dean had lunged forward at the man’s last comment.

“Alright,” Cas soothed, gripping Dean’s arm. “He’s gone. Please stop picking fights in my bar, by the way.”

“I’m getting rid of the assholes for you,” Dean said, scowling. He settled back onto his stool and turned back to his beer.

“And I’m trying to prevent lawsuits and hospital bills.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but his lips lifted. “Whatever. You gonna buy me a drink or what?”

“You haven’t paid for a beer in this place for four months.”

Dean looked impressed. “Four months? How’d I manage that?”

He’d managed it just by being him: by standing up for people who couldn’t do it for themselves, by making Cas laugh, by holding Cas accountable, by loving Cas for the past four months despite his flaws. Cas said none of this, though, instead choosing to lean in and whisper something very different in Dean’s ear - something that left Dean with ruddy cheeks and a pleased smirk on his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean asked, looking at Cas through his eyelashes. “Should have told me earlier, Cas. I’m angling for the whole bar next.”

The thing was, Cas could see it happening: Dean by his side as they looked at billing, at inventory, at staffing. Dean keeping Cas grounded as Cas took a more active role in ownership. But Cas said none of this either. “I’m looking forward to seeing you try,” he challenged instead, before leaning in to swipe Dean’s beer from his hand.

Dean watched Cas drink his beer with a scowl. “Stealing shouldn’t be so hot, but somehow you manage it.”

Cas ran a slow hand over Dean’s back. He was just about to lean in and whisper something else, but they were interrupted by someone behind them clearing his throat.

They looked over their shoulder and saw Sam with a sour look on his face. 

He looked pointedly at the lack of space between them, then at the hand Cas had low on Dean’s back. “This a new thing or what?”

Dean turned around. He had a new bottle of beer in his hand, courtesy of Tori. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted. He jerked a thumb at Cas. “You know Cas?”

“We’ve worked together for the past three years,” Sam seethed.

“What a coincidence,” Dean said, feigning surprise. “Cas, did you know this?”

Cas ignored him. “We’ve been seeing each other for four months,” he said to Sam apologetically. “I was waiting for Dean to tell you.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “Surprise.”

“Shut up,” Sam snapped. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“And I can’t believe you actually changed your Netflix password,” Dean accused. 

Sam sighed. “I shared it with Eileen.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. “You what?”

Cas interrupted before Dean started another argument. “Sam, your drinks are on me tonight,” he said. “I hope we can get to know each other better.”

Sam was glaring at Dean, but he shook Cas’s hand anyway. “Thanks, Cas. Take care of my brother, will you? He’s an idiot, but he’s okay most of the time.” He made a face at Dean one more time before leaving.

Dean was looking at Cas carefully. “You okay with this?” he asked.

“With what?”

“Dating me,” Dean clarified. “Being around me. Being seen with me.”

They weren’t big on public displays of affection, but Cas figured Dean needed it at that moment; he touched Dean’s face and tried not to get too sappy about the way Dean kissed his palm. “I’d spend every minute with you if I could,” Cas said earnestly. “But unfortunately work and sleep get in the way.”

Dean rolled his eyes but Cas saw the set of his mouth, the pink of his cheeks, and knew he was pleased. Dean reached forward and fixed Cas’s tie. “You wouldn’t happen to have a Netflix account, would you?” he asked.

[expectingtofly]

January 24th

birthday boy dean, a little angst, then happy fluff, canon divergent bc the finale sucks, established dean/cas, human!cas, dean is loved <3

2.3k words

also on ao3

• January 24th, 2003 • 

“Happy birthday to me,” Dean muttered, cracking open another beer. The Impala’s heating whirred, fighting to keep the cold out, the radio playing a mixture of music and static. Through the windshield, he could see the dark exterior of the Walmart, out back of which he’d parked under a broken streetlight.

He glanced at his phone, but there were no new messages. Bobby had called him earlier to wish him a happy birthday, to ask how he was. Dean hadn’t told him that he was alone. His dad had left a week ago for a rugaru case in Indiana. Dean hadn’t heard from him since, which either meant the rugaru was dead and buried, or something bad had happened… but he didn’t want to consider that. More likely, his dad had gotten tied up in another case in the same area. When he’d call or text again, Dean didn't know. Not tonight, that was for sure. He didn’t know if his dad even remembered it was his birthday, or cared.

Grabbing the plastic Walmart bag in the passenger seat, he pulled out the pie he’d bought for this not-so special occasion—blueberry, because the store had run out of apple. He winced opening up the plastic container; he was pretty sure his right wrist was sprained, courtesy of getting thrown against the wall during the salt ‘n burn his dad had sent him on before leaving. He’d found the bones soon enough and disposed of the ghost, and today Bobby had clued him in to a possible poltergeist case a few miles away. He’d head there tomorrow. 

Tonight, it was his birthday. 

Which didn’t mean much, all things considered. Earlier, he’d considered going to a bar, trying to find someone for a quick hook-up, but he was tired and bruised from the fight with the ghost, and in all honesty, he just wanted to fucking sleep. The roar of trucks passing on the nearby highway and the cold leaking through the windows was going to make that difficult.

He glanced at his phone again, but it remained dark and silent. Fucking ‘course Sam wouldn’t text. He was angry at himself for even expecting him to. They hadn’t spoken since Sam left for college. Dean knew why. Knew Sam was probably still pissed off from his last fight with their dad, too angry at Dean for not coming with him, for not telling their dad off. As if that was even an option. As if Dean could’ve changed their dad’s mind, as if he was supposed to abandon their dad when he was searching for the thing that killed their mom. That’s what was important—killing the monster, not taking fucking college classes.

The pie was cold and a little stale, but he was too hungry to care. “Smoke on the Water” played on the radio, and he turned the volume up a little. The trees lining the parking lot shook in a gust of wind Dean could feel rattle the car, and a stray shopping cart creaked in an empty parking space nearby. Dean eyed it. If it drifted over here in the night and scratched his car…

His phone vibrated in the center console and he snatched it up. A text from Sammy. Happy birthday.

Dean stared at the words for a long moment. The last text he’d received from Sam was a simple, I made it to Stanford. That had been nearly 5 months ago. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide how to reply. How was Sam getting along? What nerdy classes was he taking? Had he met anyone? Did he regret leaving? No, most likely, Sam had found whatever he was looking for and was enjoying his normal, apple pie life. Weirdo.

“Thanks,” he settled on, because if he asked Sam a question about college, he’d only be waiting all night for a response that might never come.

Tossing his phone aside, he opened another beer.

He must’ve dozed off sometime later because he suddenly jolted out of sleep to an empty parking lot and 11:45pm on the dash. Stiff from sitting in the front seat, he rubbed at his eyes and swore as he almost knocked over a stray beer bottle at his feet.

Turning off the Impala to not run down the battery, he got into the backseat and kept his coat on instead of folding it into a pillow, covered himself with the two blankets usually stored in the trunk. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the back of the front seats, trying to ignore how tight his throat felt. Fucking pathetic, getting worked up over nothing. What had he expected? Today was just another day, nothing special about it. No reason to treat his birthday any different than any other day, to expect anyone else to treat it any different.

He clenched his hands into fists until the stinging in his eyes receded. Soon his birthday would be past and he wouldn’t have to feel like such a pathetic loser. Well, he thought as he shut his eyes, at least not one alone on his birthday.

• January 24, 2021 •

Nothing like depressing memories to wake up to on your birthday, Dean thought, lying in bed, staring up at the bunker ceiling. That night in 2003 was still fresh in his memory. He remembered waking up stiff and half-frozen the next morning, driving to another case, one more year under his belt. That was probably the last year he attempted to celebrate his birthday—if drinking shitty beer in an empty parking lot could be considered much of a celebration.

He always remembered the day, even if he tried to ignore it, and so did Sam, and Bobby, when the guy was alive. But apocalypses and cases always took first priority, so any celebrating went on the back burner. He wasn’t one much for parties and gifts anyway.

Whispering and footsteps sounded in the hallway outside his bedroom door and he glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 8:16am. Way too early for anyone to be wandering around. Cas hadn’t been in bed next to him when he woke, which was strangely disconcerting. He’d gotten so used to waking up to Cas in the few recent weeks they’d been together. Miracle wasn’t in the room either, asleep on his dog bed like he usually was, and for a moment, in the quiet of his bedroom, Dean felt the terrible loneliness of that night 18 years ago.

That was a long time ago, he told himself, trying to push the gloom aside. For the first time in a while, he was cautiously hopeful that this birthday would be a good one—or, at least, not a miserable one. Every day recently had been a good day—a phenomenon Dean was still getting used to. Chuck was dead, Cas was alive, his whole family was together. It didn’t matter if his birthday was celebrated, if anyone even remembered it was his birthday or not. He was more than lucky with what he had now. What more could he ask for?

All the same, his birthday didn’t exactly scream fun times and good memories, and he kinda wished the day would just be over with. As he lay there, willing himself to get up, his bedroom door cracked open, and he looked over to see Cas peeking inside. 

“Oh,” Cas said, catching his eye. He stepped further into the room. “I was hoping you were still asleep.”

“Nope.” Dean propped himself up on one elbow and rubbed at his eyes. “Just woke up.”

Shutting the door, Cas came over and crawled into bed next to him. Dean lay back down to wrap him in his arms, and Cas kissed the side of his neck, then under his jaw, then his cheek, and finally propped himself up to look Dean in the eyes with a soft smile. Despite the heavy weight that had settled on him with the memories of his past birthdays, Dean found himself smiling back. 

Leaning forward, Cas kissed him. “Happy birthday,” he said.

So, Cas remembered. “Yeah, guess it’s that day again,” Dean said. He glanced at the doorway. “How long you been up?”

“Not too long.” Cas studied him and Dean nearly squirmed under his gaze. Even without his grace, Cas still managed to make him feel like his soul was on display. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Just, uh, just thinking.” He touched a powdery white splotch on Cas’ t-shirt, a black AC/DC shirt that used to be his. “This flour or cocaine?”

Cas gave him a look. “Flour." He kissed Dean again, then pulled away too soon. "Are you ready to get up?”

“Yeah, was about to. Why? Were you cooking?”

“Um, maybe.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “You should come to the kitchen. There’s, uh, something you need to see.”

“What?”

“Just, come on.” Standing, he tugged on Dean’s hand, urging him out of bed.

Curious, Dean got up and let him lead him down the bunker hallway—Cas hadn’t even let him get dressed, insisting it was urgent. As they neared the kitchen, he caught the smell of coffee and baked goods, and he heard laughter, Jack’s, and someone quietly shushing him, Sam.

“What’s going on?” he asked, but Cas only said,

“You’ll see.” He paused before the doorway to the kitchen and gestured. “You go in first.”

Still unsure of what he was gonna be faced with, Dean braced himself before entering the room.

Darkness... then Jack leapt out from behind the kitchen island as Sam flicked on the lights.

“Surprise!” Jack shouted, and Dean was bombarded with both Miracle racing over and running laps around his feet and Jack wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

“Fuck—woah.” Dean hugged Jack back and looked around the room. Balloons were tied to the kitchen island, which was covered with a pie, bacon, a breakfast casserole, and wrapped gifts. 

“Happy birthday!” Jack said, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Were you surprised?”

“Yeah, shit.” Dean looked back at Sam and Cas, who were smiling almost as big as Jack. “I didn’t know you guys were gonna do all this.” 

“Cas and I made apple pie,” Jack said, letting go of Dean to point to the gifts. “And these are for you.”

“You made pie?” Dean asked Cas. “And didn’t burn down the kitchen?”

“Sam helped,” Cas admitted. 

Coming forward, Sam clapped Dean on the back. “Happy 70th birthday,” he joked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Funny.” But he pulled Sam into a hug. Sam let out a noise of surprise, then hugged him back. 

Shit, they really had remembered, and gone above and beyond. Letting go of Sam, Dean cleared his throat. “This is, uh, this is really nice.” Damned if he didn’t get a little teary-eyed, though he would’ve denied it if anyone called him out.

Cas made him sit down at the table and served him a heaping serving of casserole, set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. Sam lit candles on the pie and carried it over to the table as he, Cas, and Jack sang a horribly off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Dean rolled his eyes, but he blew out the candles and took the card Jack handed him. 

“So this is what you were hiding,” he said, it dawning on him. Yesterday, he had walked into the library and startled Jack, who’d sprawled his upper half over the table, saying, “Don’t look! It’s a surprise.”

He looked up at Cas. “And this is why you were asking me all those damn questions. You were asking for gift ideas?” A week ago, Cas had hounded him with a series of vague questions that sounded suspiciously like the ones he’d been asked around Christmas, leading to several gifts under the tree.

“Dude, you didn’t think we’d actually forget your birthday, did you?” Sam asked, sitting down across from him. 

In hindsight, he guessed he should’ve realized they were planning something, but it’d been a long time since his birthday meant anything more than a few beers and takeout. “No, uh. Just didn’t expect all this.”

“You deserve it,” Cas said, sitting next to him, sincere as always. 

His face warming a little, Dean opened the card Jack had given him, smiling at the scrawled words in crayon—they really needed to work on the kid’s spelling. Sam and Cas had signed it too, and he smiled at the you’re a dinosaur now from Sam, and the I love you Cas had written, accompanied by a small red heart. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking up. “For, uh, for all of this.”

“‘Course,” Sam said. Reaching over, Cas took his hand, and Dean squeezed his hand tightly before kissing him. Fuck, his eyes were stinging again—but it was his birthday, he should get a free pass.

“Try the pie!” Jack told him as he tried to discreetly thumb at the wetness in the corner of his eye. “Cas and I improvised with the recipe.”

Against all odds, the pie was pretty great, and Dean slipped food to Miracle sitting at his feet to hide how he couldn’t stop smiling.

Cas knocked their knees together under the table, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Happy?” he asked, pulling back to look at him.

“Yeah,” Dean said, looking around the crowded table, at the warm food, at Sam and Jack. He met Cas’ eyes and smiled. “Really happy.”

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