#listen i was going to make it little spoon cas and then dean winchester himself appeared in my house and told me to stop being so dumb

[castieldelamancha]

Castiel opens his eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep from them, he looks around and, by what he can see in the darkness surrounding him he recognizes the room he is in, just by how similar it looks to his. He knows it isn't his simply because his room in the bunker has never felt so lived, it hasn't looked the part either.

In his room he has never felt this safe, in peace and content. He never thought sleep could be so restful and ... wonderful.

Maybe it all has to do with the man he has between his arms. Dean is laying on his side, Castiel is pressed close to him, one arm under his head, another thrown across his waist, one of his legs over Dean's own, resting on his hip.

He focuses on the back of Dean's head, letting the memories of the previous day flood his mind. His heart skips a beat.

He came back yesterday, he meet with the brothers just a couple hours ago. Yesterday Dean gave him a hug that felt way much longer than any they have shared up to that point and, with a hand cradling the side of his face, he told him that he loves him too, that he missed him and then, in what Castiel will always think of as one of the most special moments of his long existence, he pressed a chaste, short and sweet kiss to his lips.

He can tell the exact moment Dean wakes up because of the way his breathing hitches, changing its up until now calmed rythm as he realizes he isn't alone. He is almost sure Dean is going to move away from him, or tell him to back away, since this isn't the way they went to sleep the night before. Castiel will do so, these things take time, he knows.

Instead, Dean, in a show of trust, vulnerability and a gentle tenderness Castiel could very well get used to and that he will treasure forever, simply turns around in his arms, pressing himself to Castiel's chest, kissing him there before lifting his head up to hide his face against the side of Castiel's neck, " morning, sweetheart." He mutters. Castiel's arms tighten their grip around Dean.

"Good morning, Dean."

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[samdeancass]

Cuddling (Supernatural Preference)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: None.

Requested: No. ...............................................................................................

Dean

It took a long time for Dean to admit that he loves to cuddle, especially when he’s had a particularly hard day or has been through a tough hunt. He climbs under the covers and slips his arms around your waist before nuzzling his nose into your hair. However, you knew that Dean preferred to be the little spoon. So, usually, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck. You could feel him slowly relax against you as you whispered soothing words into his ear. It is one of the few times that he allows himself to be vulnerable around anybody, in the comfort of his own bedroom. 

He still struggles to ask you to cuddle him because of the toxic masculinity that he deals with everyday and is only amplified by the fact that he’s a hunter. However, once he finds out that you love these moments as much as he does, he begins to slowly open up to you about how he feels and starts to ask you more often until it becomes an unwritten rule between the both of you. Dean felt the safest in your arms and that’s the way that it was going to stay.

Sam 

You loved lying on Sam’s front and wrapping your arms around his torso, letting your muscles relax against his. He loves the feeling of knowing that you feel completely comfortable and safe with him to make yourself so vulnerable. You didn’t really like showing your feelings so it really surprised Sam when one day you lay yourself on top of him and just relaxed.

It was these moments that Sam cherished the most as he knew that the next world threatening apocalypse was around the corner. He would wrap his arms around you and squeeze slightly, pushing you more into him. You adored the intimacy between the both of you. He kisses the top of your head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 

Sam made you feel safe, which you haven’t felt in a long time. The more you became comfortable with cuddling Sam, the more you would do it. It was mostly random but sometimes, it was because you had had a particularly hard day and needed some comfort. But there was one thing that you knew: Sam would always be there to make you feel safe, and that’s what you loved about him.

Cas

Cas isn’t really into PDA, considering he isn’t very familiar with cuddling. Well, he wasn’t at first but when you wake up one night from a nightmare, Cas is right by your side asking what he can do. You pat the empty side of the bed and usher him behind you. You wrap his arms around your waist and cuddle into him, your anxiety immediately falling away. 

You stayed like this for a while. just cuddling in silence. Cas realises, just from this instant, that he likes this type of human affection. He takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers through yours, pull you into him and kiss the top of your head. You smile at these little acts of affection but given that Cas is an angel and doesn’t really understand human interaction, these acts were a big win for you.

You cherish these times with Cas. It’s the only time that you get to be alone with each other and you both loved it. You loved the feeling of Cas’s arms around you as you fall asleep and Cas loved listening to your steadying heartbeat as you fall into a deep slumber. He kisses the top of your head and nuzzles his nose into your hair before saying: “I love you with all my being, Y/N. These moments that I spend with you are the best I’ve ever experienced. I never want them to end.”

Supernatural Tags:

@akshi8278 @stellastyless @deascheck @desimarie12

[ambiguousdisorderken]

no you know what i still have not fully processed that dean and cas are in love. they smile when they think about each other, and they miss each other when they're apart, and they make corny jokes when they have sex, and dean blushes when cas compliments him but cas kisses the embarrassment away, and they get angry at each other and tongues get sharp but they will always have each other’s back, and they do domestic chores to pop songs cas adores and dean no-so secretly jams to, and cas strokes dean's hair when he falls asleep on the couch, face tucked against cas' stomach, and sometimes they shower together, and they wear subtle matching t-shirts and not so subtle ones too, and dean feeds cas spoonfuls of whatever he's cooking as taste tests, and their legs intertwine when they watch tv, and they cuddle, and their chats include a considerable amount of heart emojis, and dean wakes up wrapped up in cas' warmth, head on his chest, then finger tracing mindless shapes over bare skin, and they listen to each other's rants intently or tune out completely distracted by the endearingly aggravated face, and fuck how did they get this lucky, and they share clothes, and the wardrobe is fuller now, and they bicker a lot, dean complains about cas not being tidy and cas complains about dean not actually letting him help and always wanting things done his very particular way anyway, and sometimes dean gets very annoying and cas rolls his eyes and is so done with him, but then dean pokes his side and offers an apology that is without a doubt not an apology except it is in the dean winchester dictionary, and cas caves in because every second spent 'mad' at dean is a second wasted, and cas stands in the vee of dean's legs when he's perched up on the counter, and they have lazy sundays sprawled in bed, and they take selfies together, and they slow-dance when they're alone and the right song plays, and sometimes they dance without music because they can and they want to and it's right because it's them, and they are vulnerable with one another, and dean helped cas with figuring out sex at the start because it was intimidating so when dean's body fails to get on with the program and dean gets all red in the face frustrated and whatnot cas reassures him and because he knows dean's feeling bad they watch scooby-doo which has dean chuckling, little spoon in cas' embrace, and they go on dates, they go on dates, they go on dates, and they send each other memes, and they talk about banalities as well as their deepest darkest insecurities and fears, and dean is sure cas' phone is filled with pictures of him doing stupid shit or doing nothing at all, but that's fine because his own phone is packed with candids of cas simply being cas, and cas slaps dean's ass when he wears his short shorts, and he also steals a couple of bites off of dean's pie when they're at diners and dean lets him, and they call each other's bullshit for what it is, and dean gets to dress up his boyfriend husband and definitely checks him out when he's trying on different outfits, and they have inside jokes that make them giggle, make they cackle, and they go on drives together with no destination in mind just the road ahead and their mixtape blaring in the wind, and when cas is upset dean's right there, and when dean is angry everyone knows it's cas they gotta call to make it better, and they celebrate anniversaires and buy each other little gifts that they give out feeling bashful and a bit ridiculous, and they have pillow talks, and dean cooks for cas and cas is dean's #1 sous-chef, and they have coffee together every morning, and dean sits on cas' lap and mumbles sleepy against his temple, and they finish each other's, yes, sentences (and sandwiches), and they get jealous when other people check them out, and cas glares when dean leads on a poor soul but it's not like dean can turn off his innate charm, so he eagerly makes it up to cas later, and they hold hands, and they fight like couples do and there are tears and misunderstandings and painful silences and eventually apologies that are often wordless, a peace offering, but sometimes there's a sincere 'sorry' as well, and cas talks about dean endlessly with other people and dean literally can't shut up about cas, and they whisper things in each other's ears that no one else is privy to, it's just for them to know, and they go on long walks, and everyone knows they're together, they're each other's +1 by default, if anyone tells dean anything cas will know it before the day ends, and if anyone does anything to cas their name will be immediately added to dean's kill list, and they go grocery-shopping together, and they fight over which brand is better, and they get excited about 2x1 promos, and late at night they browse amazon to buy unnecessary crap, and they go on holidays together because they deserve it and the beach has always been dean's sunny dream, and they rub sunscreen on each other's back and dean orders them fruity colorful cocktail drinks and they nap on deck chairs after a quick swim, and they gossip, they talk about other people but keep their judging and criticisms between them, and they touch each other, they touch each other freely, that's dean's hand on cas' cheek, and that's cas' hand on the small of dean's back, and those are dean's arms wrapped around cas' neck and those are cas' hands on dean's waist, and they sit together for hours each doing their own thing, and dean calls out 'hey babe' and cas automatically responds 'yes love?', and cas nurtures both the child and the man in his arms, and cas memorized dean's system for doing laundry and dean is grateful and alleviated, and they eat terrible food together and gain a few pounds, and they try to do the healthy active couple thing but end up quitting because it doesn't really matter so dean eats that extra slice of pizza and cas keeps buying dean's favorite pie from the local bakery, and their bedroom is a safe space for dean's repressed kinks and cas' newly-found fantasies, their bedroom is also where they binge-watch netflix like the couch potatoes they are, and when cas brushes his teeth dean barges in just to take a leak, and they talk casually as they get ready, and they are frequently naked around each other and it's not sexual but it's very intimate and comfortable, and cas winks at dean from across the room, and dean pulls cas by his tie as he says 'gonna steal this handsome fella for a while' and dean cries sometimes but that's okay, and cas cries too but that's also okay, and dean sings to cas, and they have morning breath kisses and toothpaste kisses and coffee kisses and whiskey kisses and hungry kisses, and there are two pairs of shoes by the door and two glasses left in the sink and two towels hanging on the rack and both bedside tables are occupied and their mattress remembers two shapes, and dean worries because cas doesn't take enough care of himself, and dean nurses cas when he gets a cold, snuggling under blankets and checking the clock to make sure the medicine is taken timely, and cas gives dean massages to ease the tension accumulated in his shoulders, and often those massages have a happy ending as they should, and blowjobs are a regular prescription for fatigue and negative moods, and they can be downright insufferable towards one another, but it's a friendly banter, a loving poking fun at each other but it’s only allowed for dean to make fun of cas’ awkwardness and only cas can taunt dean for being so nerdy and dorky, it’s a game of pushing just the right buttons to get a certain reaction, and they also have a routine these days, being retired and all that, and they bask in each other’s company, their favorite pastime is just being together, they are each other’s home, and they care for one another in every way there is to care about someone. dean and cas are in love.

[wormstacheangel]

reminder I am watching The Nanny and I can't help but write scenes as destiel. So here is my second one. I think this one is a bit more sitcom, especially towards the end :) This is for episode 1x11.

wc: 1.7k

The kids have been having a hard time with the one night they don’t have Dean to tuck them in. Whatever Cas did, the kids would correct him and tell him Dean did it this way or did it that way. He simply couldn’t get it right. Even Claire was missing Dean, showing her fear of losing the one person who finally got her to be less angry at the world.

After finally getting the kids to bed, Cas walks into the kitchen to find Balthazar lounging around in his robe with a drink in one hand and scrolling through movie reviews with the other. Cas stands over his shoulder, trying to read it, but his eyes gaze over, not caring enough but still, he sighs.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Balthazar sounded exasperated with him already, even if he has only been in the room for less than a minute.

“Please.” Cas fetches a cup and holds it out for Balthazar to pour some whiskey into it. He has been feeling restless all night but can’t pinpoint the reason why. “You know, Mr. Winchester would have loved talking about horrible movies with you.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I wonder how he is.”

“I’m sure he is enjoying his date, sir.” Balthazar takes a sip of his drink as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him.

Cas walks over to stand by the kitchen island. He already undid his tie, undid his top four buttons, and he can’t imagine how his hair looked after pacing the living room for a good 20 minutes.

He swirled his drink before downing the whole thing in one gulp.

“Or he can be having a miserable time, sir. The man was a mortician, after all. I don’t think that would fit Mr. Winchester’s happy-go-lucky attitude very well.”

Cas perks up at that, feeling his chest warm-up — probably because of the drink actually— as he stands up straighter with a hopeful grin. “You think so?”

“Have I ever wronged you, sir?”

“You’re right, Balthazar! He would never like that-that depressing man.” Cas smile grows. “Cause you know, the kids, they would miss him very much if he left.”

Balthazar shuts his laptop as he rolls his eyes, “For god’s sake, sir! It’s only the first-!” He looks at Cas’s stunned expression before slowly falling back in his chair, a cheeky smile on his face. “I mean, with all due respect, sir.”

“Yes.” Cas sighs, ignoring the outburst. “I think you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a tad bit, sir.”

A chuckle came out of his mouth as Cas opens the trash can and plucks out the bag to throw it outside. He walks towards the back door as he says, “I didn’t see anything between them anyways. I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Cas pulls the back door open only to find Dean and his date making out. Leaving Cas standing there stunned and fumbling, not knowing if he should break them apart or close the door.

“I don’t see anything between them either, sir.” Balthazar joked as they both watched Dean press closer to his date. Unaware of their audience. Balthazar was the one to finally close the door, taking the bag of trash away from Cas, as he leads him towards the stairs. “I believe it’s time for you to go to bed, Mr. Novak.”

“Yes. Yes. You’re probably right.” Cas shook his head, hoping to erase that image away like an etch a sketch, but he still saw Dean’s mouth being sucked on. “Goodnight.”

“Night, sir.”

(More Under The Cut)

In the morning, Cas somehow convinced himself—Balthazar was only half-listening to his words anyways— to talk to Dean about the rules of the house. It had to be done. He didn’t want Dean to bring home strange people to his home, where his children lived. He didn’t want to see—or better yet— he didn’t want his kids to see Dean bring people into his room.

What kind of example will that present to them? Not a very good one.

He knocks at the door and quickly gets an answer to come in; Dean never hesitates to have any of the kids in his room. Cas would usually find them all curled up in Dean’s bed watching cartoons on a Sunday morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Cas poked his head into the room first, and that enough stopped him short. Dean looked like he was getting ready to go out.

Dean is dressed in a comfortable-looking robe, no shirt, and he’s assuming no pants by the fact that he can see a peek of his thighs from the slit in the front.

“Morning, Mr. Novak. What can I do for you?” Dean turned back to the mirror, a small smile stretched across his lips as he continued to fix his hair.

“I just wanted to talk about your um—You know we have rules in this house, and I just wanted to make sure you know them.”

“Oh, I think you have me confused with Claire. She’s two doors down.” Dean teased.

“No. No, this is about your date. About you having dates. And-And having…dates.” Cas sighed the last word, unable to get the word he wants out without his whole body warming up. “Anyways,” He cleared his throat. “The rules of the house with me-”

“Oh, with you? Gosh, maybe I should have read the fine print better.” Dean teased, winking at him through his reflection as he ran his hands through his growing hair.

“No. Not like that!”

“Let me get this straight.” Dean turns to face Cas before practically strutting over to Cas, half-dressed in a semi-open robe. Cas eyes struggle not to travel on the man before him. “We are talking about having sex in my room.”

“Well, not-not us. Not we.” Cas nervous gestures between them, noticing his hand hit Dean’s bare chest in the process because they were standing so damn close.

“We already covered that.” Dean winks at him again, making Cas’s heart race. “Don’t worry, Mr. Novak, I won’t do anything to show a bad example for the children.”

“Good.” Cas stuffs his hands in his pockets as he rocks on his heels. “Yes. Good. Okay!”

“Okay.” Dean turns back to the mirror.

“Where are you going anyways?” That sounded way too demanding. “If I may ask?”

“Well, if you must know. I got another date. We’re meeting for lunch.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Well, I gotta eat.”

“Of course. Well, have fun, Mr. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Mr. Novak. Nice chat.”

Cas makes his way out of the room, bumping on furniture as he went.

Cas walks into the kitchen that same afternoon to find Dean sitting on the kitchen counter, shoveling ice cream into his mouth. Cas quickly rushes over to take the spoon away from him.

“Mr. Winchester! You are lactose intolerant!”

“Well, I deserve a little bit of ice cream after the crap day I had, and the coconut milk one you got me is still frozen solid!”

“Oh,” Cas puts the ice cream away before walking back to him. “Date didn’t go so well this time? Was it the whole creepy mortician life?”

“No,” Dean sighs, watching as Cas runs the Dean-friendly fudge brownie ice cream under some hot water. “Weirdly enough, I was getting used to the idea.”

“Then, what was wrong with him?” Cas hands Dean a spoon, and they both dig into the still hard ice cream, but they can still scape a few bits off. Cas tried not to follow the way Dean’s tongue pokes out and licks at the spoon.

“He was a clown.” Dean sighs, spinning the spoon in his hand before aggressively digging at the pint of ice cream.

“In what way?”

“In a clown way.”

“What-?”

“Red nose! Big shoes! You want me to google it for you?” Cas looks stunned by the outburst. But it clicks; he means an actual fucken clown. He tried not to laugh as Dean let out a defeated sigh. “Sorry. I just thought…I just thought I finally found someone. You know? I’m 30. I should have found someone already.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. But I’m sure you will. You’ll find someone special who won’t honk their nose at you.” Cas bops Dean’s nose, it’s awkward, but Dean still chuckles when he pushes Cas’s hand away.

The atmosphere around them was warm and comforting, something he wishes to drown in. But in a respectable boss-and-employee-who-lives-with-him kind of way. The smile they share fades a little as they look away, and then Dean jumps off the counter with a yawn.

“I’m gonna head to bed now. Goodnight, Mr. Novak.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester.”

And just like that, they are back to professionals.

The following day, Dean is in the room talking to Sam about his dating life.

“You just think the perfect person is gonna knock at your door yelling out ‘there you are! I found you!’”

“Oh, there you are.” Cas walks in, neither Sam nor Dean notices the coincidence, holding out two different ties. “What tie should I wear? Blue or yellow?”

“Blue. Goes great with your eyes.” Dean turns around to tie the tie nicely around Cas’s neck. Sam gave them no attention as it was an action that happens regularly.

When he was done, he fixes Cas’s collar and pats his shoulder before telling him he looks good.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

Cas walks out of the room while Dean continues to get ready as he talks. “I just want a person who actually respects and values my opinions, not just my pretty face.”

“Ah, sorry to bother you again, Mr. Winchester,” Cas walks back in. “but I do value your opinion. Should I wear the gold cufflinks or the silver?”

“Gold is a classic. But make sure it’s those nice ones Claire picked out for you. She’ll love to see them.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you! That would be great.” Cas walks out of the room with a grateful smile.

Sam is still flipping through Dean’s magazine collection as he sighs, “Yeah, Dean, that’s never going to happen. You should have just dated the damn clown,”

“And what? Never see you again cause you’ll be scared my boyfriend is in full makeup? No, thank you. Now let’s go before we’re late to the damn game.”

[vibesandwonders]

And every moment precious

“I don’t think I want to be god anymore”

Jack appears in their kitchen with a sigh that seems to come from his shoes.

He doesn’t notice how Cas has Dean crowded against the counter, his fingers threaded through Dean’s hair, neck exposed, Dean’s hands midway through working Cas’ jeans off.

He barely manages to bite off a particularly potent string of words, Cas eyes him and clears his throat, Dean tries not to sigh just as deeply.

Oblivious, their son sits heavily and places his head in his hands.

Cas glances at Dean; begins blowing out the candles, sliding the chocolate covered strawberries back into their packaging, looking apologetically at Dean who nods in agreeable resignation.

8 days.

8 of the best days of his whole damn life.

Dean mentally notes that they might have to talk to Sam about customizing some sort of perimeter warning spell.

Especially, since most of their acquaintances and their god-son can just pop in at any moment. Sure, he’s gotten pretty chill about people knowing that he and Cas live together, work together, sleep in the same bed, but he’s not sure how he feels about the possibility of Jack walking into… something else.

It’s not like he can suggest cooling off their current schedule of fucking on every surface in their house (it’s unthinkable really); not to mention Cas would be absolutely against it.

“Uh,” Dean yanks on his jeans and thinks of dead animals, naked Zachariah...

“What’s going on Jack?”

Cas is already standing; moving to brew coffee, fingers brushing the side of Dean’s face as he does. The hunter tilts and kisses his fingers on the way past, surprising a wide smile out of the Angel.

How in the hell could Dean Winchester deserve this?

Cas catches his gaze and points at Jack, who still hasn’t raised his head,

Focus.

“It’s just…very boring.” Jack replies pitifully,

Cas stares nonplussed at Dean across the top of Jack’s head. He mouths something in confusion and Cas points intensely at Jack.

“Uh, wait, what?”

Jack sighs and looks up, “All I do is listen to people talk. All the time. Amara says… so much—“ Jack’s smile is sudden and large. “She is very smart, so much better at this than I am, and Rowena brings snacks sometimes to the meetings, Billie gives amazing advice, almost as good as you Dean—” He shakes his head with surety, “I think they should be god instead, Then, I can come home, and live with you… Now that you and Cas are… married?”

A spoon clatters into the sink, Cas bends to fish it out, Dean’s coughing in surprise and checking out his ass simultaneously.

Priorities.

“Oh uh… buddy— Jack…” He clears his throat nervously, he wasn’t built for this kind of conversation. Cas is suddenly busy watering the succulents in the window. The way he tips his head though, Dean knows he’s listening.

Coward.

“Me and Cas— we are just—“

“Having intercourse?” Jack’s chin drops, eyebrows knit together.

Dean chokes, his face going through every possible emotion in the next few seconds, “No uh— well—“ Cas twists around and shakes his head adamantly, “You see—“

Jack is gleefully two steps ahead and clearly proud that he is leading the conversation, “When two people love each other very much— we talked, the talk. Birds and Bees, Remember?”

“Oh god— No.” Dean puts his hand out firmly, “No— that’s not—we— uh, you and me, we uh, had that conversation one time. No repeat performance, no encores, Jack, Cas and I—We are uh—“

“Living together.” Castiel inserts, taking a seat next to Dean, handing him a cup of decaf with a reassuring smile, palm on Dean’s thigh. “Dean and I are, living together.”

Dean gazes at the man beside him, Cas wrinkles his brow at the attention; Dean’s lips are already quirking into the fondest of smiles, debating making out with him right there in front of Jack. Cas sees the intent and shakes his head imperceptibly.

“In sin.” Jack interrupts brightly, “Living together in sin.”

Their heads rotate in comedic tandem, “Fuckin’ hell—“ Dean sputters, knocking into his coffee mug,

Cas catches the mug with inhuman speed, sighing, “Dean please, don’t swear in front of—“

“I know— I know.” Dean’s pretty sure swearing is the least of their problems right now, he steels himself, “Now listen Jack, me and Cas, we are uh, we’re happy, and we’re in love… and shit.” He mumbles, can’t look at Cas right now, he just feels the intensity of his eyes and the sheer affection cascading through their bond; tries to fight the way his ears turn red every damn time the Angel looks his way.

“Well… I mean, you’re god, so I guess, it’s kinda your call anyway—“ Cas squeezes his thigh tighter, Christ he’s strong, that is so hot… Focus.

“Right, right, right, um, so it’s— No sin. We are…great.”

“Oh.” Jack purses his lips thoughtfully and nods, “But you have always been in love? How is this different from before?”

“Well huh,” Dean chuckles, blows a breath through his lips, casts a quick glance at Cas, “It isn’t, I guess, not really, it looks like I’m… just a little slow on the uptake,” He sips his coffee, if only to stop himself from talking,

“Dumb of ass.” Jack agrees.

Dean nods in agreement and then frowns. “Don’t swear, and that’s sorta… hurtful. But yeah, I guess.”

“So I can come live here?”

Cas leans closer. “Jack, you can always stay here with us, for as long as you wish, of course—and if you truly wish to renounce your godhood, it is your choice.“ He peers suddenly, “Are you lonely?”

“I miss how it was.” He says simply,

Cas nods in serious agreement, understanding immediately in a way that Dean can only observe.

“Nostalgia is powerful," He says gently, "And we did have good times, the best times.” He ponders his words, Dean leans very slightly until his shoulder brushes against Cas’ and watches his angel do what he has always done best: love.

“You are not wrong for finding solace in those memories, I have often found comfort during my hardest battles,” He chooses his words carefully, pausing between each and savoring the power of them, “In remembering good times with the people… I love.” He spares a momentary glance at Dean, “But it is unhealthy to make your future decisions entirely based on memories.”

“So you think I should be god?”

Cas' smile falters, and shakes his head, “I think, that you are a good god. You are kind, fair, and hopeful. No matter your choice you will have a home with me—“ He looks to Dean, who nods, “With us.”

He reaches out and takes Jack’s hand, “I also think, that part of Chuck’s weakness was his loneliness. We saw it manifest itself in ways that hurt the ones he loved: his family. I do not ever wish you to be lonely. I wish for you to choose what you think is best for you, Jack. Life is not about destiny. It is about doing the best you can with the time given.”

Dean clears his throat, noting the Gandalf quote before adding, “Plus, nobody said you can’t be god from our backyard right?”

Cas frowns, processing what Dean is offering. Dean continues, mostly because Cas hasn’t interrupted with an argument, yet.

“You uh, you said you wanted to be more hands off— and that’s cool and all, but if you want to change your mind, and be part of the world too… I don’t think anyone can stop you. At the end of the day, this isn’t a pass/fail decision, okay?”

He stands and pats Jack on the head, kisses Cas on the cheek. “You two keep talkin’, I’m gonna go put sheets on the spare bed.”

New fluff here

If you liked it, be sure to check

Out the rest of the Lil series of domestic one-shots :)

[transexualpirate]

“Perfect.”

When he first told Dean, he looked so small and helpless, almost guilty, like he expected Dean to just smack him right in the spot for daring to bring it up. Maybe that's what convinced Dean to participate. Or maybe it was the warmth that painted his cheeks when he imagined Cas smiling brightly at his kid and his... and Dean coming together to make something for him. "Father's Day, huh? Sure. Yeah, why not?" Jack smiled as bright as Cas did in his head.

so uhhhh aparently it’s father’s day in the usa? so i wrote a little something for @dadstielweek​ i hope this is okay <3 also thank you @creepyeyesandfrogs​ for the inspiration ur the best!!!

Summary: Dean and Jack have plans for Cas on father’s day. They also have some unresolved issues.

Warnings: Miscommunication, self worth issues, J*hn Winchester, brief mentions of self destructive tendencies (nothing explicit), brief mentions of sexual themes between Dean and Cas (also not explicit), background Saileen.

also, english is not my native language and i mess up sometimes! i’d much appreciate it if you warn me about any possible mistakes.

"Damn, kid, those are some bright colors you used." it was meant as a jab, but Jack only smiled proudly

"Thank you" he replied "I thought I might be using too much yellow, so his name is written in pink. See?"

Dean did. He stared at the card for a few more seconds. It read "Dad: I feel so safe with you! You always took good care of me and you hold me so gently when I can't sleep. Your the best dad ever!" in yellow, with blue doodles of bees and hearts around it, and "I love you, Castiel" in light pink at the bottom. It wasn't a work of art, but he clearly had fun doing it with some old colorful markers he found around the bunker. It was funny to Dean that a 5'8'' man had done it.

Not a man, he corrected himself. A kid. It was easier to see it in days like these.

"Yeah, it's real pretty, alright. But, uh, just a note-" Jack looked up then, his eyes wide. Dean tried not to be offended about how obvious it was that he was waiting for Dean to back down at any moment "You wrote 'your'. As in, 'your bag', 'your drink', 'your pen', you know. It's 'you're'. Like, 'you are'. You're. You're the best dad ever. Okay?"

"Oh." he looked down again. Stayed silent for a few seconds. Dean imagined he was processing this new information. Then he brought up the yellow marker and fixed it. "There. Is that it?"

"Yup. Looks perfect, kid. Cas is gonna love it."

Jack looked like someone had just told him he could eat all the candy he wanted. Dean found himself chuckling softly at him, then turned back to the cake he was decorating. He was pretty anxious himself. He knew he wasn't the best cook out there, and art also wasn't his strong spot, but he figured that writing "Happy Father's Day" wouldn't be so hard. Jack insisted in some skittles on top of it, too, because "Cas loves colorful things and he even ate some of Jack's last week and seemed to like it!". Dean wasn't so sure. He knew Cas had a weird relationship with food. He didn't need it, and hardly found any he genuinely liked. So he might not eat it at all. Or he might eat it just to make Dean feel good.

But there was something else he had in mind. Something he and Jack had picked in town last week. It was sappy and simple and exactly the kind of thing he never though they’d get to experience.

In the kitchen counter, close to the coffee machine, there was a porcelain mug wrapped with a colorful ribbon. And on it was written “BEST DAD EVER”.

Coffee was something that Cas liked. Especially when it had plenty of sugar. The mug was silly, the kind of thing you’d find at the dollar store, but it made Dean smile just thinking about it. Cas could drink from it everyday. 

Jack followed his gaze and stared at it with a smile. Then he turned to Dean, and to the cake, and seemed to understand something.

“You know he’ll love it too, right?” Dean smiled, but it wasn’t natural anymore. He wasn’t surprised when Jack didn’t buy it. “No, I’m serious. He likes chantilly. He likes chocolate cake. He likes skittles. He loves you. Why wouldn’t he like it?”

 It wasn’t planned at all. It just came out. Easy like that.

He likes all those things. He loves you.

Dean sucked in a breath but before he could reply Jack was staring back at the mug. It seemed like he was already thinking about something else. He was like that, sometimes. Too much energy, a bit like an actual child would have, and not enough place to put it. It wasn’t uncommon for him to lose his train of thought mid sentence. It’s like his own brain was a bit too fast for him.

Dean was like that too, sometimes.

He silently wondered if he should scold him for that, like his own father did to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, He nudged Jack’s shoulder softly. “Go on. Use plenty of chantilly, ‘kay? You’re right, he likes it.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He hopped to the fridge and got the rest of the chantilly Dean used for the cake. Gently placed the ribbon a little lower on the mug so he could pour something inside it. Turned to the kitchen cabinet and picked up a spoon, and, before Dean, he raised his index finger.

And the coffee machine started working.

Magically.

“Jack!” Dean hissed. He didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Jack, please. Don’t-”

“It’s okay!” he seemed excited “I got it.” he brought a spoonful of chantilly, and the mug floated and stood right in front of him, gravity be damned. “It’s easier this way, I can just-” he held the chantilly container with one hand, the spoon with the other, and the mug was hovering in front of him. There was no way he couldn’t see how that was dangerous.

“Jack, come on,” Dean stopped decorating the cake and reached for the mug “just put it d-”

“Whoa, guys?”

Too many things happened too fast. Sam walked through the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes lazily. Dean flinched. Hard. He thought Cas had discovered them. Jack also flinched, his eyes wide and scared, like he’d been found doing something he shouldn’t be doing. The coffee machine stopped working. The mug fell.

It shattered on the floor, before them.

“Oh, shit.” Sam said, wise as ever.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Come on! Look at it! Goddammit, kid, why did you have to- Come on!”

“Guys? Uh, sorry-” 

“I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I thought- I thought Cas had- I got scared, I’m sorry, Dean, I can fix this, let me just-” he gestured to it, clearly intending to use his powers again, but Dean stopped him, gripping his wrist forcefully with just a little too much strength.

“No. You’ve done enough.” Dean said, his voice cold. He wasn’t sure how exactly things could get worse, but he didn’t want to find out either. Jack struggled to get away from his hold with wobbling lips.

“Dean-” Sam placed a careful hand on his brother’s shoulder “what’s going on?”

“It’s father’s day.” Dean said “We baked a cake and bought Cas a stupid mug but now-” he sighed “the kid used his creepy ass powers and now it’s broken.”

That was like someone had slapped Jack in the face. He finally managed to get his arm free and stepped back like it had burned him. He clutched his wrist, and cried.

“I’m s-sorry...” he managed between sobs.

Dean stared.

He was crying. Outright bawling his eyes out like it was all he knew how to do. If Cas hadn’t slept in Dean’s room (conveniently far away from the kitchen, it was all thought out, that’s definetely the only reason he was there) exhausted from last night’s activities (angels don’t need sleep, per se, but they do benefit from it every now and then if they’re low on grace and already tired from... uh, hunting) he probably would have woken up.

“Oh, shit.” Dean said, for once, somewhat wise.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I shouldn’t have used th-them. It’s my fault! I didn’t- I didn’t mean-!” he stepped back again, like he was scared anyone would hurt him (or he would hurt anyone).

Dean’s heart dropped to his toes and he wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Shit, kid. No, it’s- Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Fuck. Sam, a little help here?”

Sam stared at them for a second, his eyebrows knitted together. 

Dean got mad and went a bit too far. That’s happened before.

It happened a lot with John.

But Dean would always chime in and fix John’s messes for him.

Sam turned around, brought a shovel and a broom and in two swift movements cleaned the remains of the mug while Dean stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

And then he left the kitchen.

“What the fuck. Sam, what the- Sam!” but, obviously, Sam didn’t turn around. It wasn’t that he didnt care. He did. So much. He was scared that if he let them there things would only get worse. But he trusted them- he had to.

Dean and Jack needed to have this conversation by themselves.

Jack. The Jack that was pressed up against the wall crying desperately like there’s no tomorrow. Dean wanted to cry too.

“Kid. Jack. Jack, I’m sorry. Hey, listen to me.” he took a careful step but Jack didn’t even seem to notice. He was clutching his own wrist so hard Dean was scared he was going to break the skin. 

He raised his hand and slowly reached for his wrist. Jack flinched again and looked up to Dean like he was surprised that he was so close. Slowly, like he was trying to approach a wild animal, Dean held the kid’s hand and opened it, forcing him to let go.

“There we go. Careful, kiddo. You were hurting yourself.”

Jack scoffed, or tried to, but as he hadn’t stopped crying yet it sounded a little like a scared cat. “Right. Like I d-don’t deserve it.”

“No.” Dean’s voice was suddenly rough again “No, you don’t. Kid- Jack, look at me.”

Jack didn’t want to, but Dean reached for his chin softly and, carefully, as if the Nephilim was made of glass, he brought his face up.

“I-I ruined it, Dean. I broke the mug.”

“Yeah.” his voice was soft again “You did. But it’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose. You got scared. You shouldn’t have been so careless, but you didn’t mean to do it. I know you didn’t. Okay? You just have to be more careful next time. It’s fine. You’re fine, okay? I’m... I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jack stared at him. His lips were slightly parted and his face was still tear stained. Dean ran his thumbs through his cheekbones, drying his tears softly. Jack let him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have... Used them. My- my creepy powers.”

“No, Jack, it’s okay. Those powers, they’re not creepy, okay? They’ve helped so many people before. They’ve saved us. And they’re a part of you, and you’re not creepy, okay? You’re not. I’m sorry I said that. I was wrong. And I shouldn’t have- Shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack looked like he was waiting for the punchline. He studied Dean’s face, and eventually he stuttered out “It’s... It’s okay, Dean.”

“We both fucked up, huh?” he chuckled softly, and Jack did so too.

“Yeah. I guess- I guess we did.”

“Well, I’m the adult. I can’t let this happen again. I’m not going to. Okay? I’ll be more careful too. I just- I lost it, Jack. I’m so, so sorry. I hope you know how wrong I was. You’re not bad, Jack. You didn’t do this on purpose. You were just trying to be faster. It’s okay. You made a small mistake. It’s no biggie. I need to keep it cool next time, okay?”

“No! No, there won’t be a next time, Dean. I’ll be more careful, I promise!”

Dean smiled. “I know, Jack, I know you will. But you’re four. You’re gonna make silly mistakes like this. Your job is to try a little more everyday. Okay?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “I will. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, little guy. I will, too, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I promise, too.” Jack smiled at that. Dean swept his hair from his face, leaned in and kissed the kid’s forehead. He beamed. And then he stopped. Dean glanced at his face.

“But, Dean... It’s, it’s broken, now. We only have the cake and the card.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll love them, Jack.”

“Yeah, but... It’s... It’s Cas, Dean. He deserves better.”

Dean contemplated for a second. And then he smiled. Jack tilted his head in a very Cas-like fashion.

“I have an idea.”

Cas turned around in Dean’s bed, hoping to find the man laying next to him. He didn’t. 

It wasn’t unnexpected, you see, Dean woke up early everyday. Cas wasn’t used to sleeping, but when he did, he slept in late. He only needs his four hours after all. But honestly, Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some shame in there.

He glanced around the room and decided it would be best if he got dressed. He got up, groaning softly, then retrieved his underwear and pants from Dean’s desk. His shirt was on the ground. Tie and trenchcoat were perched on a chair. His cellphone was on his pocket. He thought about going out, maybe make Jack some breakfast, but it was still early and the kid was probably asleep. So he decided to go back to bed (without his trenchcoat, mind you, not even he is that formal).

Immediately as he laid down there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” he slurred out, still sleepy.

Whoever was on the other side hesitated. “Are you... Decent?”

Cas couldn’t stop his smile. “Yeah, Dean, I’m decent.”

“No, like... Jack- Jack is here, Cas.”

There was a laugh on the other side. “Dude?” Sam whispered. Cas decided to pretend he didn’t hear him.

“Come in, Dean. Unless you want me to put on my shoes as well.”

The door opened and the first thing Cas noticed is that Dean’s whole face was red as a tomato. The second thing was that he was holding a cake covered in chantilly and skittles and the third is that he was followed by Jack and Sam.

Oh, no, did he forget anyone’s birthday?

But they didn’t sing. Instead, Jack jumped on the bed, holding something colorful. Sam was right behind him, holding a wooden platform and placing it on the bed. It was like a support so nothing would fall. Dean put the cake on the platform and Jack placed something too.

Cas blinked.

“Uh, wh-what’s... Did I... Miss something?”

“It’s Father’s Day!!” Jack beamed. Cas couldn’t help but mirror his smile. But he was still a bit confused.

“O-okay, so...?” Jack leaped at him, involving him in a hug.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad!”

Oh. Oh! “Jack!”

“Kid’s super excited. It’s your first Father’s day without an apocalypse, after all. So, we... Yeah. We did something.” Dean tried to explain. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Cas stared at him like he’d personally brought him the moon.

“They did something for you, too, Cas. Look!” Sam pointed at the colorful package at the improvised table. He noticed, then, that it wasn’t a package. 

It was a mug involved by a colorful ribbon. The one he usually used. It used to be white and bland. But now, there was a blue tie doodled on it, and in Dean’s unmistakable handwriting it was written “WORLD’S BEST DAD”. It was filled with coffee and chantilly, just the way he likes it.

Cas held it in his hands and couldn’t stop the tears flooding his face. 

For a second, Jack panicked. His eyes widened and he looked between Cas and Dean questioningly. Dean reached a hand to his shoulder and whispered “I think he likes it, Champ.”

“But- But he’s crying?”

Cas sniffed loudly, then. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t expect it. World’s best dad, him? “They’re... T-they’re tears of joy, Jack.”

Sam giggled sofly. He brought his cellphone up and started recording. He was happy he did, because just at that moment, Dean leaned down and kissed him wholeheartedly.

Like, on the lips. Full on romantic kiss. The type they show on TV. 

If Jack was surprised, he didn’t show it. But he was happy, that was clear. Sam, however, cheered them on. “Oh, fucking finally!”

Dean showed the camera his middle finger. Jack tilted his head again, and Sam zoomed in on him, mumbling something about “like father, like son”. When they broke apart, their pupils blown and panting softly, Dean cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Cas was at loss for words.

Jack seemed to remember something, then, and shoved his card on Cas’ face with no mercy. “Oh, oh! I also made a card! And Dean baked the cake! We painted the mug together. He taught me how to draw a tie. Do you like it?” 

“Liked it? Jack, I love it. Look at it! You drew a bee, too! It’s so pretty.” he sighed contented while Dean tried to steal Sam’s phone only to find he had already sent the video to Eileen. Jack stared at him with childlike wonder, and Cas was almost scared for a moment because of how happy he was. But it was okay. He was allowed to be happy. He deserved it. “I love it. Thank you, so much. All of you. It’s perfect- you’re perfect.” he turned to Dean, with Sam’s hand on his shoulder as he cooed childishly. “I love you, Dean.” And then he turned to Jack, the kid smiling in blissful, childish naivety. “And I love you, son.”

“See?” Dean grinned, nudging Jack playfully “I told you he’d love it.”

[achillestiel]

the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part four

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow ​ @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch 

Ok Winchester, you can do this. Just be cool, calm and collected. Dean said to himself as he drove towards Foxhall Village, the area that Cas and Jack lived in. Jack had fallen fast asleep about an hour before and every now and then Dean would glance over, marvelling at how much Jack looked like Sammy when he slept. They would both zonk out instantly, mouth slightly open without a care in the world. As much as Dean missed Claire, because that pint sized tearaway was his whole damn world, he couldn’t help but wish that he’d been able to get to know Jack more. 

"Hey kid we're here." Dean said as they drove up the street Cas now lived on. "Nice place, what's your dad doing now here in DC?"

"Oh, he's the head of the council of economic advisers." Jack said. "Which sounds cool but it just means he talks about economic policy a lot. It’s cool when he goes to the White House, last time he stole a pen for me. Don’t tell anyone because I’m not sure if that illegal or not." 

Dean just sat there for a moment because of course Cas now had a great job within the government. When they'd first met Dean had made endless jokes about how Cas would be president one day. Cas had always rolled his eyes but smiled whenever Dean jokingly called him Mr President. 

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. 

"Nothing kid, come on. Let's get you back to your dad. No doubt Claire has driven him insane by now so getting her back will be easy." Dean said, getting out the car when all he wanted to do was clamber back into the impala and hightail it back to Kansas. Yes, he was being a coward but the idea of seeing Cas after all this time was doing things to his brain. 

"Doubt it, he's put up with Uncle Gabriel for all these years." Jack said. 

"Yeah, I remember your uncle alright. Ruined our damn couch." Dean muttered darkly. 

"That doesn't surprise me." Jack said as the pair walked up the driveway towards a large Tudor style house. Huh working in government definitely pays well Dean thought. Swallowing down his fear, Dean rang the doorbell. He prayed to whoever was up there that he didn't throw up on the tasteful doormat. The door opened and Dean braced himself to see Cas. Instead, he came face to face with-

"Uncle Gabriel!" Jack said happily. Dean suppressed a groan as he looked down at the short, cheerful-looking man. How was it possible that Gabriel looked almost exactly the same after twelve goddamn years?  

"Well if it isn't my favourite nephew." Gabriel said happily as he pulled Jack in for a hug. "And you brought Winchester! Never brought he'd leave Kansas. Is your brother still an Adonis of a man?"

"Was he ever?" Dean asked as he held out his hand for Gabriel to shake. Sure the guy might have wreaked Dean's brand new couch fourteen years prior but he was trying to be polite. 

"Oh he was and I let him know all the time. Shame he was so happy with Eileen." Gabriel said, looking wistfully as he shook Dean's hand. 

"Yeah well...not that it isn't nice to see you again Gabriel but I kind of need to grab my daughter." Dean said. Maybe he could do this whole thing without having to even see Cas. Part of him was relieved but that idea and the other part of him was just a swirl of emotions.  

"Of course, follow me to the kitchen." Gabriel said, stepping back inside the house and motioning for Dean to follow him. Dean obliged, looking around the pristine hallway for any sign of Cas. Jack was hot on their heels as they walked into the kitchen. Dean stopped and just glared at the sight in front of him. 

Claire, wearing one of Dean's flannel shirts that was definitely three sizes too big for her, was cheerfully stirring the contents of a large saucepan. Loudly humming along to a song on the radio, which after a second Dean placed as Queen. When Dean coughed loudly she looked up and grinned. 

"Dad! Come on in, we're making chilli for dinner." Claire said, looking far too happy for her own good. "Jack, grab some chips and gauc out the fridge." 

"We?" Dean asked while Jack sauntered past him towards the huge sub zero refrigerator. 

"Hello Dean." And damn if that didn't make Dean want to sprint out the house. He braced himself and looked over to where Cas was standing. All the breath in Dean’s body left him as his eyes fell onto Cas. He looked almost exactly the same apart from a few wrinkles around the startlingly blue eyes that Dean had always adored. His hair was still a complete mess and...son of a bitch, he was even wearing the blue sweater Dean had brought him for Christmas fifteen years prior. Seriously, was he doing this on purpose? 

“Um...hey Cas...long time.” Dean managed to stammer out. 

“Dork.” He heard Claire mutter under her breath. 

“Hey.” Dean said, rounding on Claire. “You got any idea how much trouble you’re in of this little stunt? This ain’t gonna be like the time you blew up the shed, you’re gonna be grounded until the day you graduate high school. Maybe even college.” Dean said. 

“You blew up a shed?” Cas, Gabriel and Jack all asked, staring at Claire mix of horror (Cas) and awe (Jack and Gabriel). 

“Ok, I didn’t blow up the shed. I started a small fire in the shed by accident.” Claire retorted. Dean and Cas both groaned as Jack walked over to give Claire a high five. 

“I really love this kid.” Gabriel announced. 

“Oh Jesus.” Dean muttered at the same as Cas. They both glanced at one another for a moment before Dean turned his attention back to Claire. “You. Car. Now.”

-

I should have stayed hiding upstairs. Cas thought as he stared, yes he was staring, at Dean. How was it possible that Dean looked even better after twelve years? Dean in his early twenties had been a sight to behold but Dean in his late thirties was a thing of beauty. His boyish good looks had turned into handsome roguishness.  

“Dad, I can’t leave yet. We’ve just laid the table.” Claire said to Dean.

"We thought you'd be hungry after driving all day so Claire and I made dinner." Cas said. In reality Gabriel had dragged him into the kitchen wherein he’d found Claire already making chilli. Cas wasn’t going to tell Dean that.

"That's a nice thought but-"

"Dad, I know all you've eaten today was gas store jerky.” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “Am I right?” she asked Jack who just nodded. “See? Now wash your hands, sit down and eat this damn chilli because I’m Aunt Eileen’s recipe and I know that’s your favourite.” Claire said, pointing a chilli covered wooden spoon at Dean. Cas simply could not fight the smile that spread across his face when he saw Dean’s terrified expression.

“Fine, just chill out. God you sound like Ellen when you do that.” Dean said, going over the sink to wash his hands before grabbing a seat and sitting down. Cas rolled his eyes, not even realising he was doing it until Dean looked over and glared. Dean was nearly forty and he was pouting like a small child.     

“Well while you all enjoy this little family reunion I’m going to grab some wine...maybe a enough for a vineyard.” Gabriel said as he sauntered out the room. 

“Does Gabriel live here?” Dean asked Jack.

“No, he was getting his condo renovated so he stayed here for a while. He’s back home now.”

“Longest eight weeks of my entire life.” Cas said quietly. “Jack, can you help Claire dish up?”

“Sure thing, let me run my bags upstairs and I’ll be right back.” Jack said.

“Oh I’ll help you!” Claire said as they both ran out the room. 

“Nice to know subtly isn’t their strong point.” Dean said with a nervous laugh. Cas just let out a long sigh and sat down across from Dean. 

“Yes, I’m starting to think they might be plotting something.” Cas said. “If Claire is anything like Jack in the determination department then we might be in trouble.”

“Oh believe me, Claire does not need any help when it comes to determination. She can wrap anyone round her finger. You know I still have a scar on my forehead from when she made me go rollerblading?”

“You went rollerblading?” Cas asked, utterly baffled by the idea of Dean Winchester going rollerblading. 

“Not voluntarily.” Dean said. Cas laughed and was shocked to see Dean’s face light up. “Um...I’m sorry to crash your evening like this. I didn’t think that I’d be here tonight.”

“No, when I went to the train station to pick up Jack I didn’t expect to see my twelve year old daughter.” Cas said. “You don’t have to apologise, I’ve enjoyed having Claire here.”

“Yeah, I really liked spending time with Jack, he’s a good kid.” Dean said. “Listen Cas-”

“Got the wine!” Gabriel said, strolling back into the kitchen holding two bottles of red wine. “Where’s Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Here!” Jack and Claire said in unison. Cas had a feeling the two had just been waiting outside the door for at least a minute. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the smug look Jack gave Claire as they were dishing up dinner. Gabriel kept himself busy by pouring all the adults generous glasses of wine. Dean tried to protest because he still needed to drive back to Kansas but Gabriel laughed him off. 

“So Deano, what have you been up to all these years?” Gabriel asked after nearly ten minutes of awkward silence while they ate. 

“Oh...um...not much…” Dean said, staring down at his chilli. 

“You have!” Claire intoned. She turned to Gabriel and Cas with a proud look on her face. “When Uncle Bobby decided to retire five years ago Dad brought his share of the garage. It’s expanded so much over the past few years that last year Dad brought the empty lot next door. He’s restoring a 1957 Chevy Bel Air at the moment and it’s awesome.” Claire said with so much pride in her voice that it made Cas smile fondly. Dean had always had a love for classic cars and he was happy to see that he had made his passion a profession. 

“That’s amazing Dean, you should be proud.” Cas said.

“He is, he’s just awful at saying it.” Claire said. “We’ve got this old Firebird in the garage back home that Dad’s slowly been restoring. It’s really cool.”

“Are you planning on selling it once it’s restored?”

“Um...no...I mean, I was thinkin’ bout it but Claire loves the car so much that I’m planning on giving it to her as a graduation present.” Dean said, looking away from his plate of chilli to give Claire a quick, but loving, smile. “That’s if she gets good grades and promises to take care of it.” he added and Claire laughed. 

“Me and Jack could take a twin road trip when we both graduate.” Claire said excitedly. “See the grand canyon or hike Yosemite!”

“And Yellowstone! We could see the geothermal pools.” Jack said with as much excitement as Claire. 

“You know most teenagers would want to go to Tijuana.” Gabriel said. 

“Does Tijuana have cool rock formations like Antelope Canyon? If not I don’t care about it.” Jack said and once again he and Claire high fived. It was at that moment Cas realised this wasn’t going to be easy. Claire and Jack knew about each other now. They’d bonded while at camp and separating them again would not only break their hearts but Cas’ as well.

“Yeah well, we’ll see.” Dean said in a small voice, catching Cas’ eye. This isn’t going to end well he said with his eyes. Cas nodded in agreement. While Claire and Jack began to plan a road trip that was several years away, Cas coughed to get Dean’s attention.  

“I’m glad you’re doing something you love, with the garage I mean.”

“Oh...yeah, well you always knew it was a dream of mine to have my own garage.”

“I did and if I remember rightly I said that it would become a reality.” Cas said. 

“Yeah well, it’s not as big as working in the white house but…”

“Dean, I think we both know that your job is far more interesting than mine. I talk about budgets all day while you-”

“Are stuck in the guts of a car and come home covered in axle grease? Seriously, Claire hoses me down some days.” Dean said letting out a small laugh as, once again, he glanced fondly at Claire. 

“She’s amazing, I have to say. You’ve done an amazing job in raising her.” Cas said and he really meant it. True, most of the time he’d spent with a teenage Claire included Cas ‘spiralling’ but he’d enjoyed it. 

“You say that now because she’s on her best behaviour...sort of. You do remember she set fire to the shed right? You’ve got the real winner with Jack. That kid, he’s just awesome. Really smart, kind of reminds me of Sam.”

“Can we both agree that our kids are amazing and leave it at that?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled and Cas was flooded with memories at the sound. His stomach ached with longing to make Dean laugh like that again and again. This really wasn’t going to end well at all.

[caslikescoffeeandfreckles]

#SpnStayHome 04/13 prompt: Gentleman

@bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen pls except my late trash i’m sorry

now available on A03

Dean hears the front door slam again and sighs, body moving out into the living room before he can even think about it.

There he finds Castiel slumped against the door, fists clenched but face deprived of any little fight he had left.

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” Dean asks grimly.

Cas doesn’t even open his eyes.

Dean edges toward the couch, letting Cas have his space and choice to talk. “I’m sorry, man.”

It takes a while, but Dean waits, knees pulled to his chest, toes wiggling in his socks with the urge to run over and hug Cas close, stroke his hair, kiss his lips. Tell him that Dean is here for him, in any way Cas will have him.

Which is exactly why he stays put.

“It’s like I’m cursed,” Cas finally whispers. When Dean looks up, Cas’s eyes are finally open and the disappointment is dark blue and heavy.

“It’s not you, Cas,” Dean tells him for the thousandth time. “You just... keep dating jerks.”

Cas laughs but there’s no humor. “Pretty sure that still makes me the problem. I just... I’m so tired of trying.”

Dean would like to tell him that he doesn’t have to try. But that would be unwelcome and not to mention completely inappropriate given the situation.

It’s not that Dean has necessarily tried to hide his feelings for Cas over the years. In fact, he’s been more obvious about his crush on his roommate than he’s ever been with any former partners. Maybe he hasn’t said it in so many words but... actions speak louder right?

Which left Dean with just two possibilities: either Cas was an oblivious idiot or not interested.

And Cas is anything but an idiot.

The quiet rejection hurt more than Dean would ever let on. But Cas never allowed it to affect their friendship, never indicated that he was uncomfortable with Dean’s gestures. Dean still tried to dial it back and challenged himself to be the best friend Cas deserved even if that meant listening to him chatter about the guys he was talking to and picking up the pieces after the guys blew everything apart.

“Or maybe this is what I deserve...”

Dean’s head whips up when Cas speaks again, mostly to himself. “What?”

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know, I just... I’m starting to think maybe this is what dating is like. Maybe I have just have too high standards or I’m being unrealistic.”

Dean shakes his head as Cas talks but Cas isn’t looking, into act he’s already peeling himself off the door and heading to his room, head still bowed and shoulders down.

He looks so sad and defeated and Dean wants to argue but bites his tongue.

He hears Cas’s door click shut and closes his own eyes.

In no world should someone as amazing as Cas leave a bad date feeling that it’s what he deserves...

Cas has to know that. He deserves the best partner, the best dates, the best kind of love story.

And maybe Dean isn’t the one he wants that love story with. But Dean can at least open the book for him.

The next Saturday, Dean makes up an excuse for a celebratory dinner and tells Cas to get cleaned up.

He leads Cas to the impala, hustling to open the door for him which Cas raises an eyebrow at. Dean just smiles and carefully shuts the door once Cas is safely inside.

“Pick something,” he says, gesturing to the radio.

“You’re letting me pick the music?” Cas asks and the incredulity is not lost.

“I’m feeling generous.”

“But what happened to driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?” His voice changes as he quotes Dean to himself and laughs.

Dean bites a grin and keeps both hands on the wheel. “Just pick something good before I change my mind.”

The restaurant isn’t a super fancy place but it’s a grade above the kind of dives Dean usually patrons. He hadn’t wanted something so fancy that he and Cas felt uncomfortable, but also not a place where a brawl was likely to break out at any moment.

He isn’t able to get out before Cas opens his own door but he does manage to hold the restaurant door for him and even allows a brief touch to Cas’s lower back as he passes. Cas doesn’t flinch or frown or look at him weird. In fact, he may not have noticed at all.

They get an intimate little table by the windows and Dean holds Cas’s chair out for him.

Cas does frown now, looking at Dean like he’s lost his mind or grown a second a head. “What are you doing?”

“Holding out your chair for you,” Dean responds like it’s normal.

Hesitantly, Cas steps closer and lowers himself into the seat as Dean pushes him in. “What a gentleman,” Dean hears him rumble, a soft tone of amusement in his voice.

Dean can’t help a grin as he claims the seat opposite of Cas and shrugs. “Mary Winchester wouldn’t have raised anything less.”

A knowing grin steals across Cas’s lips. “No, she wouldn’t.”

They have an excellent dinner. Cas picks something from the wine list and Dean goes with it, not understanding any of the words Cas uses to describe the flavor but enjoying it all the same. Their food is delicious and even though Dean could happily wolf down every bite, he offers some to Cas, raising his fork to Cas’s lips and stomach stirring with wild butterflies when Cas opens his mouth to accept. Cas looks a little red for a few minutes after that, which pleases Dean to his toes.

“Don’t forget your leave room for dessert,” Dean says when Cas leans back against his chair.

“Dessert?” Cas repeats. “What was it we’re celebrating, again?”

Dean shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter why. Just matters that we’re together, right?”

When Cas doesn’t respond right away, Dean feels hot fear rush through him. Maybe he went a little too far, veering into romantic side of things. Sure, he wants to show Cas what a good date can be like, what it’s like to be properly wooed and romanced. But that doesn’t change the fact that Cas only wants him as a friend.

“Right,” Cas says at long last, his voice soft and quiet again. “Together.”

They order their dessert and once again Dean finds himself spoon feeding Cas a taste of his chocolate pie. But this time, there are no nervous butterflies. This time, it’s all heat. A searing, thick heat that fills his lower half and runs down his skin, tight, as Cas’s eyes seem to glaze over with something Dean’s never seen before, something desperate and primal and eager as his pink lips separate and Dean catches just the faintest glimpse of his tongue before he licks the treat into his mouth.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s the one sitting there like a bright red tomato after that.

When all is finished and the dishes are clear, the waiter leaves a single bill on the table.

“Oh, we’ll need two checks,” Cas starts.

But Dean is already sliding his card into the folder. “This is fine,” he says and hands it back to the waiter.

The admonishment is loud and clear and Cas says Dean’s name. “You’re the one we’re supposed to be celebrating tonight. If anyone should be paying, its me.”

“Maybe next time,” Dean promises and prays there will be a next time. If not here, then in the next life or in some alternate universe where Cas feels the same and goes on real dates with Dean where they can share bites of food without feeling nervous and bicker over the bill knowing it doesn’t matter.

Cas leans back, eyes scanning Dean suspiciously before he grins. “I feel like we’re on a date almost,” he says and laughs. Like it’s the craziest idea in the world. Impossible.

The laugh hurts but Dean swallows it down and smiles. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”

Cas’s smile vanishes and Dean could slap himself. Definitely too far.

Luckily, the waiter returns then. Dean busies himself signing the receipt and leaving a generous tip.

“Have a lovely evening, gentlemen,” their waiter says. “We hope to see you again.”

Dean doesn’t let his nerves ruin his plan as he and Cas stand and he gestures for Cas to walk ahead. He still holds the door for Cas and opens the car door for him, all the while ignoring the strange look on Cas’s face.

Cas doesn’t bother with music on the drive home and Dean is too scared to let his hands stray from the wheel.

He crossed a line somewhere, he knows — can sense it. Maybe this idea hadn’t been the best or the most mature. He’d just wanted to show Cas what he was deserving of, how he should expect to be treated when he granted someone his time and attention.

The idea of Cas settling for less or internalizing all of his romantic mishaps as his fault is just not acceptable in Dean’s book. The man sitting next to him is the closest thing to perfection Dean has ever known and deserves nothing bht the best, better than everyone. Better than Dean.

When they arrive home, Cas still isn’t speaking but he also doesn’t move to get out. Dean wants to ask if he’s okay, if Dean did something wrong. But truthfully, he’s too scared to know the answer.

So he gets out and goes to open Cas’s door. Cas still takes a moment before he gets out and he doesn’t look at Dean.

They walk up to their apartment in silence and Dean unlocks the door with shaking fingers.

Cas still isn’t speaking and Dean is feeling sicker and sicker by the second. It’s time to end this and pretend this night never happened.

So with a dramatic yawn, Dean starts tugging off his suit jacket and makes a beeline for his room. “Well, good night, Cas,” he says over his shoulder, too afraid to look back. “Thanks for coming with me. I’ll talk to you-”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts.

Dean freezes, turning around but not looking directly at Cas. “Uh, yeah?”

He can’t see the expression on Cas’s face, can only see the shadow of his hand moving against his thigh as he nervously grapples with the material. Dean definitely fucked this up.

“Was tonight... a date?”

Dean doesn’t like lying to Cas and normally an opening like this is what he dreams of. But after the way Cas has been acting since he joked about it only feeling like a date, Dean almost can’t find the courage to take it. Almost because, even though he’s terrified, there’s still that little bit of logic left that says at least if he’s honest now and gets the answer he anticipates he’ll finally be free to move on.

And maybe that’s what Cas truly needs. Not some desperate idiot trying to show him a good time, but a true friend with no ulterior motives.

“Uh, I mean, kind of,” Dean says at last. “But, like, it doesn’t have to be. I’m sorry if I made things weird. I wasn’t trying to. I just...” He tries to think of the best way to explain himself but there’s really now way to spin it where he doesn’t look like a pathetic creep. “Look, I’m sorry, Cas. I wasn’t trying to trick you or make your uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted to show you a good time after what happened last weekend.”

“By taking me on a date without telling me?”

Dean winces, because damn. This is a lot worse than he thought. “Yeah, I realize how fucked up that was now. I guess when you said that you deserved all that bad stuff that kept happening to you, I wanted to prove you wrong?” There’s a hurricane of nerves tearing through Dean’s body and he really can’t tell if he’s going to be sick or have a heart attack. “But tricking you into a date was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Dean has the decency to at least look Cas in the eyes when he apologizes and he’s a little shocked to not find disgust or burning hatred in his best friend’s eyes. In fact, if Dean didn’t know any better he’d say Cas looks confused and maybe... nervous? Of what, Dean can’t imagine.

“Why...” Cas begins, slow and soft. “Why did you think you had to trick me into a date?”

Dean’s face pinches, remembering all the rejections at once. “Because you’ve never said yes before?” 

Cas’s eyes widen. “To a date?”

Dean just nods.

“But when did you ask me out?”

A slimy sort of feeling settles in Dean’s gut, feeling suspiciously like doubt. But... that can’t be right. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me...” 

“Messing with you?” Cas echoes. Before Dean can even turn around, there’s a hand gripping his wrist and holding him in place. Cas’s eyes have bloomed into something wild and desperate, like the look he had when Dean was feeding him at dinner. “Dean, I feel like we’re not having the same conversation here. You’ve never asked me out because that is certainly not something I would forget and there is no chance in hell I would have said no once let alone multiple times.”

Dean stares, trying to understand if Cas is lying or if Dean has really been that big of an idiot this entire time. “I used to ask you out all the time!” he finally shouts. “I-I-I asked you out to dinner like a month after we moved in together. I asked you out to see that band you like when they were in town! I tried to take you bowling! I invite you to the movies all the time but you always say no! I even tried to kiss you at that Halloween party last fall and you almost pushed me off the couch!” That was when Dean had finally given up. Message received loud and clear. 

Realization brightens Cas’s eyes before the shock sets in. “I thought you were just drunk!” Cas exclaims. “And I didn’t want to kiss you while you were intoxicated. Wait, you mean you bought those concert tickets as a date?” Something close to horror crosses Cas’s face. “Oh god, and I took-”

“Balthazar,” Dean mumbles. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas says and there’s a regret in his voice that Dean has never heard before. “I had no idea.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas looks like he’s just had a life-changing revelation and Dean feels like he’s treading muddy water, an ocean of bad memories and self-deprecating thoughts without even a light to guide him. 

Because Cas is saying that he never knew. That all those times Dean thought he was being obvious and brave, Cas was completely clueless. That Cas hasn’t been rejecting Dean all this time. He never knew Dean was interested. And it kind of sounds like... Cas has been interested. 

“Dean?” Fingers snap in his face and Dean blinks back to reality to find Cas staring at him, eyes a little less wild and more worried. They soften when Dean focuses. “You’re thinking too hard,” Cas says.

“I’m confused,” Dean admits slowly. 

He doesn’t recognize the face Cas is making now but it makes him feel hot and like he wants to jump out of his skin but also freeze this moment in time forever so he never has to see anything else ever again. It makes him feel like he’s choking but also breathing properly for the first time in his life. Like they’re the only two left in the entire universe but also like they are the universe at the same time? So unthinkably big but small, everything and nothing. Loved. So incredibly, poetically loved.

“I think I can get you caught up,” Cas whispers.

Before Dean can think, he feels soft lips press into his. 

There are no fireworks because those would have been loud and distracting for a moment as precious as this. It’s a quiet, private sort of explosion between them, a galaxy being born and filling with more and more stars with every passing second. 

Dean doesn’t no how long they stay suspended in space, doesn’t really care. He knows that when they separate, he feels different. Like a different person. Like his body isn’t fully his own anymore. And he loves it. 

“I could do that forever,” Cas breathes against his lips because he didn’t go far. Hopefully never will.

“Me too.”

He feels Cas smile and he tingles with it. 

“Then I think we should go to bed,” Cas says, then pauses, eyes frowning. “Wait. Are we going too fast?”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “Well I don’t know what you were expecting but, for the record, I don’t put out on the first date. I’m a gentleman, remember?”

Cas’s laugh is warm air against Dean’s chin. He doesn’t respond and the silence is not awkward or anxious. It feels just as precious as their first kiss, in fact, just as right and comfortable. There’s a permission in that moment, to study one another and to learn through touch and taste.

Dean longs to kiss Cas’s jaw and so he does. Keeps kissing until he reaches Cas’s ear and nibbles on the lobe. Feels the way Cas shivers against him and knows he’ll never be able to deny Cas a thing.

He whispers, “But for you I’ll make an exception.” 

He thinks Cas will always be the exception. And he knows somehow, without being told, that he’ll always be Cas’s.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH03

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, angst

WC: 2708

SERIES MASTERLIST

The bump is getting bigger every day and it’s annoying really. It’s always in the way, it’s everywhere she goes. 

Yesterday Y/N was sobbing because she couldn’t tie her own shoes and when she looked down on herself, all she saw was the tip of her big toes. 

She can’t really cuddle with Dean anymore either. Like she said, the bump really is in the way but it’s also good isn’t it? It means the little baby is growing to be healthy and strong. And oh god, Dean so big and she’s not and the baby has to come out of her vagina, and oh no. It’s not possible. She’ll tear everything down there. Nope, she’s not going to do it. Not going to give birth. Not now, not ever. She said what she said.

They’re in bed when these thoughts hit her and Dean spoons her from behind, telling her a story about something she didn’t really focus on listening to in the first place. Sorry, but she just can’t. There’s a living creature coming out of her in two months time and it’s not going to happen. Not when she has a say in this.

Dean can feel her tensing because he stops babbling, rubs his palm over her bare stomach and kisses her shoulder. “You okay?”

She sighs before she searches for words to answer him. How can she say that she’s not o-fucking-kay without him worrying? Because she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want for him to worry. It’s her own anxiety induced thoughts and only she can deal with it. He doesn’t need to worry about her, really.

“I’m terrified,” She says anyway, because it’s the truth and she promised to herself that she’s not going to lie to him. Not anymore.

“Baby,” Dean whispers, his hand still strokes her big bump, and he noses at the back of her ear. “I am too.”

“You don’t have to push the baby out of your pussy, though.”

Dean chuckles lightly, his breath makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “No, I don’t. That’s true. But I’d do it for you if I could.”

“Liar,” It’s her turn to laugh, “You almost fainted when my stomach hurt from food and you were running around like a headless chicken because you thought that I had contractions.”

“Oh, come on, that’s totally different.” He’s louder now.

“Or when you made me squirt and you thought you broke my water.”

Dean lifts himself up on his elbow and she has to tilt her head back to laugh at him. He frowns, “That was last night and it was scary alright?”

“Of course,” Her hand goes up to pat his cheek.

“And I meant what I said. No sex until the baby’s out.”

She turns on her back, looks at him and pouts.

“Oh, don’t do that.” Dean sighs, his fingers brush along her face, paints along her brows, the bridge of her nose. 

“Do what?” She asks innocently. Of course she knows what he means.

“Your fucking pout, I swear,” He kisses her then, soft and tender but she wants more, so much more.

Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and it isn’t long before he gives in. He always does. Dean could never resist her pout. It’s not going to be long until a small person will look at him with their big eyes and pout at him too and she is sure as soon as the child finds out Dean’s weak spot, it will use it against him like she does. 

It still builds up so quick between them and it gets her so hot when he slides his tongue into her mouth, fills it with the taste of him. 

Dean breaks the kiss and it gives her room to breathe. “Baby, Cas and Anna are coming around in a couple of hours. We need to get things ready,”

He kisses her again, though, can’t really stop either. 

“I know, we make it quick, please?”

His hand goes from her bump to her tits, kneads at them, his fingers twirls around her nipple. They’re even more sensitive now, and a little fuller, too.

She’s still naked from last night so he takes the opportunity, dips his head lower, sucks and licks at her throat, working his way down to her nipples and sucks them in, lets them out with a lewd pop right after. Her hand fists in his hair, scratches at his scalp.

He comes up again, looks at her with blown pupils, curses before he says, “Okay, but quick.”

Her smile widens, a smile of a winner, really. She turns around and lets him spoon her. There’s not a lot of positions anymore that she feels comfortable in. At least Dean has gotten over his thing about always wanting to see her face when they have sex. Maybe it’s only for the time being as they don’t have many positions to choose from. 

Dean pulls her closer, and she presses her ass against his hard cock, making him groan into her back at the friction she gives him.

Stroking his cock, Dean threads the mushroom head through her slick and she parts her thighs a little to give him better access. 

He’s still a tease though, rubs the head of his cock along her slit, not quite putting it in yet.

“Dean,” She chokes out his name.

“What do you want, baby?”

“You’re a tease,” She bites down on her bottom lip and flinches because he almost lost his cool there and slipped in a little. The tip of his dick is now inside but only the tip.

Dean groans a little himself, and grits his teeth, “I want you to tell me,” 

“Oh my god, I want your cock Dean, want it inside of me, plea—”

The word gets stuck in her throat when he pushes himself inside, making her moan out loud.

He moves, slow and steady, his arms come up to knead at her tits, fingers twisting her nipple, his mouth on her throat. “Still so fucking tight, baby,” 

She wants more, wants him to fuck her deep but she knows that he won’t go as deep as she wants him to because he’s too scared to hurt her, scared of hurting the baby.

His mouth is right by her ear as he whispers dirty, “Just fucked you last night, fingered you, made you fucking squirt but you’re still so goddamn tight.” 

Y/N loves it when he runs his potty mouth while they fuck, had always loved it. He always says things that make her blush.

Dean’s hand leaves her tits, strokes down her body, rubs along her bump, his hand touches her more gently around her middle. He goes further down, slips his hand between her thighs to rub at her clit, and she doesn’t know how he does it because it’s always better than when she does it herself. 

“You’re close,” He whispers and sucks at her pulse point on her throat, “I can feel you squeezing my cock,”

He’s right. Of course he’s right. She’s so fucking close because he’s brings her there, with his throbbing cock and magic fingers.

“Come, I’m right behind you.” He whispers, low and dirty and it sends shivers down her spine when he flickers at her clit one last time, pushing her off the edge, making her cramp down on his cock, making him spill inside of her. 

“So good,” He’s still half groaning next to her ear, “Always such a good girl for me,”

Her pussy flutters with the praise, as Dean still lazily fucks into her and sprays kisses along her shoulder and throat.

They lie there a while longer, his hand is up and massages at her bump again. The baby is awake, kicks at Dean’s hand and he has to laugh at that.

“You feeling better?” He asks, noses along her temple.

“Much,” She says, placing her hand on his.

“What do you think it’s going to be?” 

She thinks, long and hard. They still don’t know the sex of the baby, last time it didn’t want to show on the ultrasound and she doesn’t even know if she wants to know at all.

“Well, I hope it’s going to be a tiny human.”

Dean has to laugh at that, the sound loud and beautiful in her ear. 

“I hope it has your smile.” He says when he calms down.

“I hope it has your freckles, your eyes and your patience.”

“My humor,” Dean adds and she snorts at that.

He kisses her cheek, “Come on, we should shower and get moving.”

“I need your help,” She says and grunts as he peels himself from her back, slips his soft dick out of her with a squelching sound and she hates how she misses him already.

“With what?” He gets out of the bed, walks over to her side and helps her up, scoops her up and carries her to the bathroom. 

“I need to shave my legs and my pussy,”

Dean groans, he absolutely doesn’t like to help her shave her pussy and she knows that because he can barely keep himself from touching and fucking her while doing it. 

“You’re going to be testing my patience, baby.” He says, and gets into the shower, waits for her to join him.

 *

 Y/N helps Dean prepare for the BBQ and they finish with the preparation even before the Novaks arrive so she decides to lie down a litte, while Dean sets up the table on their terrace.

She lies with her head on the headrest of the couch, right by the door out to the terrace and Dean has to walk past her every time. She lifts her dress, bunches it up right underneath her boobs to watch the baby move. 

It’s so active now, it feels weird and it looks even weirder. She can see it tossing and turning around in her belly. 

When Dean comes in and picks something up in the kitchen, she calls out for him. “Dean, look!”

He stops dead in his tracks, looks at her belly. 

The baby is carving something along her skin, and it wriggles so hard that her belly looks unshaped and bulky. 

Dean stands there, watching, she sees him upside down when she looks up. “Have you ever seen Alien?” He asks out of the blue and walks to her, kneels down and kisses the bump. She has to swat at his arm for that stupid comment, though. 

Then, everything stops. The movement gets more smooth, it doesn’t trash around anymore.

“See, I calmed it down with a kiss, ha!” Dean smiles from ear to ear and she has to roll her eyes because now he’s gonna be incredibly cocky for the rest of the day. 

  Cas and Anna arrive with baby Elijah and the two women plus Cas are sitting and talking to each other.

After Dean had placed the things on the BBQ, he joins them too and Anna asks him if he wants to hold Elijah.

Elijah is six months old, a strong robust baby but still, Dean is reserved. “I dunno, what if I drop him?”

Anna chuckles, “It’s not hard Dean, you can’t break him.”

Y/N nudges at his arm. “Yeah, hold him.”

“Okay, okay, come on, what do I have to do?” He asks but Anna just pushed Elijah into his arms. 

It’s weird. Weird holding a baby that’s not Sam. Dean’s sweating bullets but won’t admit it. He breathes relief when he has an excuse to go turn the steaks and veggies over on the grill.

Cas comes to stands at the grill with Dean. Both of them sipping on their beers. 

“How are you?” Dean asks his friend. 

“Tired,” Cas sighs, “But it’s good. Anna still does most of the work but I help as best as I can.”

Dean nods at that, “You’re doing great, Cas. Anna looks happy, Elijah is healthy, what more can you wish for, right?”

“Yeah,” Cas agrees, “Thanks to you it’s possible for us to spend so much time with Elijah, though. So, thanks. We owe you a lot, if not everything.”

“Ah, stop it, Cas. You earned it. It has nothing to do with me.”

Cas takes a sip from his beer, “How are you?”

Dean takes his time to answer that, he looks back at Y/N, sees her holding Elijah on her lap while Anna gives her tips. 

Dean smiles, “I’m good. We’re good, Cas.”

It’s the first time that he uses these words when he’s feeling exactly that, either. 

“Good,” Cas says and there’s a exhale of breath before Cas speaks again, “Then I guess it’s not the right time to tell you that Crowley tries to get a deal with the FBI.”

“He what?” Dean gets loud and his eyes immediately shoots to the two women, is fucking thankful that they didn’t hear his outburst. 

Cas talks in a low voice now, “Gabe’s still working freelance and he overheard someone saying that Crowley is working on getting out. Don’t worry, it won’t happen today or tomorrow, maybe not even this year or the next, but he’s doing everything to get out.”

“You think he’ll hand us out on a silver platter?”

“Nah,” Cas shakes his head. “He has more skeletons in the closet than we do. He would only hurt himself because I don’t even think they know the full extent of his business. They caught him for corruption and abuse of power, little involvement in the coup that wasn’t — thanks to Y/N — but they don’t know what else there is, they can’t and won’t find anything unless one of us talks.”

“Can you talk to Gabe again? Let him set up a security company. Employ the best of people, war veterans like he and I are. Get 24/7 protection on all of us, including Sam and Ash. But not the obvious kind, protection you can’t really see, you understand?”

Cas raises an eyebrow, “So, you want ninjas?”

“Of course I want ninjas Cas. What else would I want?” Dean snarls, but then Cas chuckles and Dean has to drop his facade.

“I’ll let Gabe know, I don’t think he can get ninjas, though.”

“Good people, is all I ask for, really. There might be some from our old unit who would be interested since it’s legal, he should contact them. And he should let me know how much he needs and I’ll wire it over.”

Cas nods, “You still have your firearms?”

“Yeah, and you?”

“Me too, Anna hates it, though.”

“I don’t think that you’re the one he’s after if he gets out, Cas. So don’t worry about that, alright? I don’t want you to.”

“I’m worried about you.” Cas says and then adds, “No, actually, I’m not even worried about you, I’m worried about Y/N.”

“Yeah, me too.” Dean agrees, he looks to Y/N, sees her frowning at him. She probably knows that something’s not right. That something’s up in the air but Dean won’t tell, refuses to tell her that Crowley is trying to get out and the first person on his list might be her. 

It’s never going to be her, not if Dean can prevent it.

So Dean does what he can do best, and that is pretending that everything’s okay as he piles a plate with grilled veggies and steak and walks over to the girls. They eat and talk. Dean laughs when Cas and Anna tell them stories about funny little things that happened since Elijah’s birth. He rubs his hand on Y/N’s thigh every now and then, squeezes her, and she leans against him, tilts her head to his so he can kiss her. It’s good. Really good. He also watches Y/N smile at Elijah, sees her love for a child that’s not even hers. He loves that, he thinks. He loves her, loves his unborn child, and he’s keeping her, keeping them, would easily and readily give up his own life to save theirs.

CH04

[avauntus]

2020 favs: (short) fic recs

I am stealing this idea from @macgyver-sheriff, who has no clue who I am, but whose post I saw go across my dash. Thank you! 👋

Would you like some recs for the holiday season? - I too would like to share love for my favorite things I read that were written this year! <3

I’m going to do this in two parts - the short fics (10k or less, generally one-shot), and another post for the long or series fics I loved this year (it’s 2020, I figure we can use too much of a good thing?)

( @staidwaters - I’m ‘disqualifying’ your works because I’m biased, sorry! Look away! Unless you want recs!) 

"Congratulations, Get Rich" (9,238 words) by Attila (The Untamed - modern AU)

Tomorrow is Chinese New Year, which means Wei Wuxian has to get all of his bad decisions out of the way tonight.

Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Mianmian are all so screamingly perfect as modern versions of themselves in this, and it is KNOCK DOWN HILLARIOUS. Wei Wuxian is just a screaming queer disaster (affectionate) - as he should be.

Excerpt:

After a long beat, Lan Xichen sinks gracelessly into the chair Lan Wangji had been sitting in earlier. “I just want to be absolutely clear,” he says delicately, “that you are currently under the impression that my brother has no romantic feelings for you. That is what you’re saying to me right now, yes?”

“Yes?” Wei Wuxian says, feeling desperately confused. “Obviously? Why?”

“Because at least one of you is very stupid, and I’m trying to figure out who,” Lan Xichen tells him, sounding distracted. It’s the rudest thing Wei Wuxian has ever heard him say, and his mouth drops open slightly.

“caved to the careless” (6,708 words) by ilgaksu (The Untamed/MDZS - Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen)

Love is a choice you make - like this, and this, and this.

Have you ever read a writer whose work is so distinctly itself that you can feel yourself slipping in time even as you keep going? That’s not very articulate, but it’s the best way I can describe everything of ilgaksu’s I’ve read. Their fics are the same emotional register as having the breath knocked out of you after a fall. This was the first one I read, and I think it ends well-- with what Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen find along the path-- but it’s still heavy. Discussions of canon-compliant character death and grief/mourning here.

Excerpt:

He pauses. Until this very moment, he was unsure who to ask for. He has heard the rumours of the Yiling Patriarch’s ongoing residence here, about Zewu-jun’s seclusion: he’s dead, but even the dead are not free from gossip. But he remembers a courtyard, nearly two decades ago, and the weight of eyes some might have called angry in their intensity. He remembers those same eyes, and how for the wear of the intervening years, they had kept the same essence: longing, yearning, a kind of small unspoken grief.

Song Lan had a dream once. A dream of a sect, bound not by blood, but by a shared belief in the right path. So many things are only an inheritance: shame is one of them.  

Love is a choice. Love is a choice, and you choose until you can’t.

“I am here,” he decides, carving the words into the dirt, every stroke of every character resolute, “To meet with Hanguang-jun. Please show this one the way to go.”  

“Green River Running” (8,169 words) by @rain-hat (Love in the Moonlight - post-canon AU)

5+1: Kim Byeong-yeon returns to the land of the living.

I skimmed through Love in the Moonlight during my quarantine summer (distinguishable from my “quarantine spring” or “quarantine fall” only by fireworks), and immediately upon finishing, thought: “Psht, they killed off their best character.” And then, something happened that never happens -- I went on ao3 and found the exact thing I was looking for, written far  better than I could have imagined. Kim Byeong-yeon is such a quiet yet powerfully subversive presence and the progression here is so masterfully done. This is true of all of rainhat’s work’s I’ve read, but this is a fine example-- I really treasure the warm humanism of them.

Excerpt:

People needed helping hands even more than they needed sympathetic ears, though. Over the last year, Hong Gyeong-rae and Byeong-yeon had built houses and planted crops side by side; negotiating with moneylenders here, helping small-folk secure their stores against bandits there. There was nothing courtly about Byeong-yeon’s capacity for labour, or his expectation of reward. Wherever he went, he worked from dawn to dusk, ate the food he was given, and slept under a roof if he was offered one.

It suited him, Hong Gyeong-rae thought, even though there was something outlandish about his gentle speech and palace manners in the midst of it all. But to behave in any other way would be untrue to his upbringing; nor was he the sort of man to whom it would occur to try. And after all, most people liked to be treated with courtesy; it did not come across as mockery from this solemn, severely dressed young man, who seemed to find no task too big or too small. Hong Gyeong-rae had seen him argue tax law with local councillors and stand up to highwaymen armed with nothing but a knife and staff. But he watched cooking pots for women who had to run to the fields to tide over the day’s labour, too; he wrote letters for them, and tolerated their fractious children and spoon-fed their bedridden elders, if that was what was called for.

“The Veritable Records of King Taejo: Year 2, Entry 208“ (9,857 words) by @sadviper (My Country: the New Age - Nam Seon-ho & Hwang Sung-rok slice-of-life)

Hwang Sung-rok eats his way to the bottom of a real estate scam, and Seon-ho and Yeon help (a little).

No one is out here doing it like SadViper. This is technically part of a series, but they can all be read separately. I did not realize I needed to see more of Nam Seon-ho in all his “type-A government official glory” until Viper started sketching him out for us, and as a bonus, we get to see Yeon, and Sung-rok as the world’s surliest caretaker (but don’t call him that). I have an authorial fallacy where I always think stories have to have some grand “plot” -- a “Maltese Falcon” to pull the reader along-- the genius of Viper’s work is she shows us exactly how interesting and important the day-by-day tiny choices and connections we make are, with an impeccable background of historical research to ground you in the setting.

Excerpt:

Nam Seon-ho was his master now. He was a strange one. He was a traitor, for helping the escaped Liaodong soldiers, but not, because he managed to wiggle his way back into Yi Seong-gye’s favor and was now a sixth-ranked inspector with the privilege of having personal audiences with the King. He was temperamental and belligerent from being the son of a slave mother and a lifetime subject of Lord Nam’s fantastic parenting philosophy. He was afflicted with perpetual guilt. And he was also one of the hardest working and most desperate people Sung-rok had ever known.

It was a terrible combination. He was not merely a disaster waiting to happen, but a disaster perambulating on two legs at the edge of a chasm. If Sung-rok intended to stay in service for long, he needed to find a way to cool down some of Seon-ho’s intensity, even though admittedly, it was what drew him to Seon-ho in the first place.

Thoughts like these plagued Sung-rok for a while. It was one thing to know a person; it was quite another thing to try to change them.

“Orison” (4,975 words) by @gravelghosts​ (aeli_kindara) (Supernatural 15x18 coda)

Cas says, I love you.

So! This rips my heart out, every time. All the times Dean imagines himself together with Cas...and then he imagines himself, if not happy, then thriving.

Jack: “What is the point...if everyone I care about is going to leave?”

Castiel: “The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them, you... When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.”

Excerpt:

The thing Dean tries to do is: listen.

Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just — being. It’s in just saying it, Cas tells him, and Dean’s whole heart is screaming, No, but he shuts his mouth. He listens. He listens like his life fucking depends on it, which it does, in more ways than one.

“Sky Full of Song” (6,632 words) by @drivingsideways (Supernatural, finale 15x20 fix-it, Dean/Cas)

Or: The One in which Cas ghosted Dean.

Look. Look. If Cas(tiel) can yank Dean Winchester out of Hell, celestial-scream at him not once but twice, burn out a woman’s eyes like an utter clown before thinking “Huh, an Earthly vessel, guess that’s not just bullshit, then,” and when they finally work it out, Dean greets them with a knife to the chest and THEN they’ll spend twelve years misunderstanding each other and bickering, you had better believe these two are going to be disasters even in Heaven. Drivingsideways gives us all of that dynamic, with the found family of Jack and Mary as facilitators, and the happy resolution, which of course includes a true form “roughly the size of your Chrysler Building.” <3

Excerpt:

The thing is, Castiel doesn’t want Dean to feel obligated.

Dean has a streak of self-sacrifice that's as wide as the Caspian Sea, and Castiel doesn't want to be any more of a chore or obligation than they have been to Dean for all the long years of their—brotherhood.

Castiel had shocked Dean, to the core of him, with their confession, and Castiel had seen the swirling confusion, the fear, the panic, the shit what do I say, what do I do—how do I stop him—

So, no, Castiel would not be paying a visit anytime soon.

Of course, if Dean evinced an interest in meeting them, then Castiel would not stay away.

Castiel isn't that cruel.

(They have, on occasion, been exactly that cruel, but they are trying to outgrow it.)

Dean is still their friend.

Dean knows how to reach them, if he wants to.

(see? disasters. haha)

“The Rough” (3,267 words) by anactoria (Supernatural, finale -15x20- ‘fix-it’)

 Heaven can absolutely fucking wait.

Rec’ed for the concept more than the style (this is dialogue-heavy, as a lot of 15x20 fix-its tend towards), but I *love* this course-correction: After kicking around Heaven, Dean and Cas return to Earth to take their place as urban legends among the hunter community. Just for a while.

Excerpt:

But it isn’t life. That’s the thing. It’s awesome, but it isn’t life; life’s a hard, painful, infuriating mess, and Dean only got halfway through his own, and he feels cheated. For all he held it together for Sammy at the end, for all he tried to take Cas’s big moment-of-happiness speech on board, he feels cheated.

There’s supposed to be peace at the end. When you’re done.

Dean wasn’t done.

[shy-violet-soul]

Dream for a Mermaid

Summary: When she struggles under the weight of a lost goal, will her heart start buying the lies her head is spitting out? Or will she let her family speak the truth she needs to hear? Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, and a precious friend Warnings: discussions of anxiety & depression, so very much fluff Word count: 1600-ish

A/N: This is for my precious friend, @pinknerdpanda . Always listen to your heart, sweetie. And when your head starts lying, listen to me! Xoxo

The air in the Impala hung like a wet blanket. All she wanted was to get in her room and hide. Under-the-blankets hide. Under-the-bed hide. Dig-a-hole-in-the-world hide. Every time she saw Dean stretch his neck to the left at the kink there, every time Sam absently rubbed at his relocated shoulder, or Cas shifted gingerly around the remnants of his slashed ribs, the guilt squeezed her throat and burned her eyes. While Bob Dylan crooned out “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”, only one note thrummed through her.

Failed. Failed. Failed.

The tunnel into the bunker’s garage filled her with a dizzying mess of relief and panic, her system overloaded from the last three hours. When the driver’s door creaked and Dean groaned his customary back popping, she arrowed herself out of the car and hurtled towards safety.

She didn’t see her boys staring after her before turning to each other. No explanation needed. They’d all lived it, too.

Failed. Failed. Failed.

Ammonia wrapped around her in a fog. Familiar, bracing, she let it fill her head as she militantly painted. Color came and went under her hands as she sloughed off a new vision and pulled the comforting customary into its place. Grief dripped free in ribbons of salty soot. The tap on the door went unnoticed, swamped beneath the cacophony in her mind.

Failed. Failed. Failed.

“Hey.”

Color slopped astray when she jumped at the voice. Her eyes snapped to the mirror, fixing studiously on the man behind her and not her own reflection. The reply she gave was all croak and no fooling to a Winchester.

“So...blue hair again?” Sam queried, offering her a hesitant smile.

She cleared her throat of the guilt before slapping out the truth.

“Well, brown hair is for blending in. You know, for real hunters.”

The bowl and brush slammed into the sink, blue showering wet and shiny onto the white porcelain as she ripped her gloves off. Her chin trembled as her chest clutched hard, and the need for air churned with the nausea in her belly, anxiety spiking sharp and cold along her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking Sam out because she didn’t deserve his understanding. This was her problem.

Failed. Failed. Failed.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.”

A croaking, choking sound broke from her as her head sagged down.

“Are you kidding me? How was it not my fault? You were there, Sam! It was a complete shit show!”

“Hunts go sideways all the time! How many times have you bandaged us up because it didn’t go the way we planned?”

She scoffed, swiping at her dripping grey tears.

“You guys are wired for that crap, Sam. It’s practically in your DNA. Have Cas check!” she snarked. “I trained for days for this. Days! The shooting and sparring with Dean, the research stuff with you, what-kills-what quizzes with Cas, and hours, frickin’ hours of what-iffing enough scenarios to fill a book. And for what? Nothing!”

The juggernaut of grief ripped free, shoving her anxiety up into her heart, throat, and head hard enough that her vision swam, pressing her down, down until the weight became too much as she wobbled to the tiled floor. Sobs, all the more painful as she tried to choke them back, filled the sudden silence like an uneven fall of breaking glass - sharp, hitching, hurting.

Slow, steady, Sam stepped close and sat. Near enough to reassure, far enough to not crowd.

“I just wanted -” Stopped as she dove her face into her drawn up knees.

“What?” The gentleness of his question squeezed more tears free.

“I just wanted it... to work. I thought being a hunter was what I wanted. All I wanted. And I just wanted it to work so bad. Why didn’t it work, Sam? Why couldn’t I make it work? Why?”

Sam’s chest vised hard and painful at the pure heartbreak on her face. He scooted himself closer, long fingered hands resting on her shins.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey,” he husked to her. “Listen to me.” Sam waited until she raised her gaze to his. “Now, you listen to me, alright? You did not fail.” His hands squeezed her legs for silence when she rolled her eyes to protest. “You didn’t. Hunting in the field...it’s fourteen kinds of crazy. And yeah, not gonna lie - the adrenaline rush in the moment? Wow. The feeling that gets me here,” he rubs one hand over his heart, “when we do save someone? Or put a tormented soul to rest? Knowing we made one little piece of this messed up planet better? There’s no feeling in the world like it.

“You didn’t fail. If you truly feel like being out in the trenches isn’t for you, that’s not failure. That’s courage! You know how many people keep clawing after something that isn’t for them? And they’re miserable. I know it hurts right now, and I’m so sorry you’re hurting. But, think about it. Having the guts to say ‘no’ to one dream, as awful as it feels in the moment, puts you on a path to a new one. And you?” Sam let all his admiration and care for her shine in his warm smile. “You are freaking amazing. And you’re going to do amazing things. Just..be gentle with yourself. And remember - we’re here for you. Whatever you decide to do.”

She let his words wash over her. Let their truth sink into her and loosen the stranglehold panic still scrabbling at her throat. A deep breath pulled in, and she nodded weakly, still heavy under everything. Ready to try and put some of it down.

Sam’s smile widened as he watched her nod, watched her body soften just a touch.

“Besides, I like your blue hair better, anyway.”

She snorted at that, swiping a wet blue strand out of her face and wiping the smudge of color left behind on her pants.

“So, did you draw the short straw for this deeply emotional encounter?”

A true laugh coughed from her scratchy throat as Sam’s eyebrows did a comical up-and-down dance.

“What? No! Just...no!”

A gentle tap on the door, and Dean poked his head in the bathroom.

“Hey, short straw. You finish telling her how kickass she is? And that Cas is currently stuck in the ice cream aisle at the store, trying to figure out if there’s any dangerous bits of porcelain in her favorite Ben and Jerry’s ‘Kitchen Sink’ ice cream?”

Chuckles bubbled up as Sam leveled his bitch face at Dean while the older man stepped over to help her to her feet.

“You’re bringing the mermaid hair back? Awesome! You gonna put any purple in with it this time? That look on you was my favorite!”

She let herself have the hug Dean pulled her in for, smiling tiredly.

“I don’t have the stuff for purple. But I’ve got enough to give you some blue.”

When Sam laughed at that, Dean scoffed at him.

“Bitch, please. I could rock me some blue hair.” Draping a companionable arm around her shoulders, he rubbed his hand on his chin as he pondered. “For Sammy, I’m thinking green. Bring out his eyes.”

Sam rolled those eyes hard enough to see inside his skull, and she shooed the brothers out so she could concentrate on her timer and color. For the moment, grief had let go. She wasn’t ready to think about new dreams yet, but in this instance, setting down this one didn’t sting as badly.

***********************************************

3 days later

“C’mon, girl, it’s movie night!” came Dean’s voice down the hall. She yanked her favorite hoodie over her head, grabbing her pillow as she sailed out the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, keep your shirt on, Winchester,” she hollered back. Quick steps navigated to the Dean Cave, heart light as she welcomed the R&R with her family. Dean had even agreed to let her pick the movie. Turning the corner into the room, she stopped short, and burst into hysterical laughter.

Dean had aqua blue and teal strands glistening in his dark hair. Sam smiled, chagrined, when she took in the shamrock green throughout his own strands. And Cas, dear sweet Cas, looked preciously confused about the hot pink tufts poking up out of his fluffy tresses.

The look of delighted pride on Dean’s face, coupled with Sam’s resigned grin and Cas’ adorable but supportive bewilderment, had her leaning on the back of the couch as hilarity pealed from her in waves.

“Now we can be as awesome as you with our hair! Bring it in, mermaid.” Dean pulled her into one of his famous bear hugs as Sam tucked her pillow into her preferred spot on the couch. Cas proudly offered her a pint of ice cream and a spoon.

“I’ve thoroughly checked this for porcelain and nickel traces, it’s contaminant free from any kitchen sink particles.”

It was a sheer force of will that kept her from laughing right in his face as she snuggled into her spot.

It was never easy letting go of something so deeply desired. A part of her would always hurt at the loss, would always cry out ‘what if’. But today? Today she let her heart tell her the truth. Today, she knew she was loved, and she knew tomorrow was another chance.

Another chance to find a new dream.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Half-Priced Chocolate

The day after Valentine's Day is great for many things. Basking in the glow of a night well spent, sharing the joy of love with your family, and eating chocolate priced considerably lower than it was the day before.

Except Sam can't enjoy any of that, because Dean won't let him. Because Dean woke up in a sour mood and has picked up the banners of war against romantic love.

Albeit, the three aforementioned things might make his conflict the shortest in history.

           Sam sits with his granola and his pressed juice for exactly seven seconds when Dean walks in. Storms in, trailed by a dark cloud that thunders and readies to soak through anyone unlucky enough to cross its path. Grey dead man’s robe already looking dark and wet, clinging to his body. He passes Sam and the healthy breakfast he prepared as they marched towards the fridge with murder and hunger burdened on his tense shoulders.

           Mornings like these warn Sam of a day spent tiptoeing around his brother lest he accidentally set off a bomb. Ignore muttered grumblings if he wanted to be spared listening to Dean spend hours talking about everything annoying him except the real problem. Bury his head in a book or website so Dean would find his own outlet and wear himself into an approachable mood.

           Only he’s riding a strong high, drunk on Eileen and careless enough to stomp around with his happiness.

           “Morning Dean,” Sam says, chewing around the spoonful of granola, “How’d you sleep?” Dean grunts, backtracked by sizzling bacon being slapped onto the pan. Undeterred, Sam continues cheerily. “Me? I had an okay sleep, I mean when I actually went to sleep… I had a pretty late night.” Sam sips at his juice, letting Dean’s silence balloon for a moment until he pops it again. “Eileen and I stayed up chatting for a long time… didn’t really want it to end.” He then describes the date he planned, setting up the tablet in the library. Watching his reflection while the screen loaded, fixing his tie and mussing his hair until Eileen’s face popped up over his. Her hair perfectly cascading over one shoulder, hiding one of the straps of the purple dress she wore. In front of her was a mirror to Sam’s set up, a plate of food, a candle, and a little rose. Eileen waved at him in greeting, and in return Sam signed his. “I mean, it was kind of difficult,” Sam confessed, “I promised Eileen that I would only sign the entire night – even though she told me it would be okay. But, oh man… you should have seen her eyes light up when I recited The White Rose by John Boyle O’Reilly. Was scared I got something wrong but she said my fingers were fine… those hours spent hunched over the laptop watching YouTube were really worth it to see her smile…”

           “Big deal,” Dean scoffs, back still turned, “you got your fingers to make some neat shapes. I can do that, too…” Then, he extends his arm to show his middle finger to Sam. Even if he wouldn’t face him, Sam knows his pursed lips and heavy stare burn holes in Dean’s head.

           “Wow, Dean,” Sam says, “I take it there were no presents under the tree with your name on it for Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

           “Bite me Sammy.”

           “I already have someone I can bite, thank you very much –“

           “Not like she’s here, though, is she?” Dean asks, finally turning. He crosses his leg at the knee, mockingly rubbing his chin. “Wouldn’t an in-person date be more romantic than sitting alone with your computer all night? That’s just an average day for you.”

           His balloon springs a small leak, and he floats towards the ground. “Okay, you’re seriously bringing down my mood,” Sam glowers, pushing his bowl away. “Can you take whatever bullshit you brought in and wade through it somewhere else?”

           Dean scoffs, “What mood? Pent up sexual frustration? Or did you take care of that, too, with your magic fingers.” He mimes around his crotch, sticking his tongue out with a disgusting wink. Snickers when Sam’s lips curl.

           His grip on his juice tightens, and he drowns the furious remark burning his tongue with the drink. Instead of playing into Dean’s game, Sam stirs his granola with an almost forgotten spoon. Ignores another jab meant to shake up his Jenga tower of patience. Dean lucky that each piece he pulls doesn’t damage the structural integrity.

           Except the tower wobbles. “Probably gonna have to get used to it, though,” he continues, leaning against the counter, “with how long the sabbatical Eileen’s taking, you’re gonna need it.”

           He jumps onto the line like a fish to bait. “What is your problem –“

           “Dean? Sam? What’s going on?”

           Across the room, Dean stiffens and whirls to the entrance. Face pale, Sam watches his brother hands tremble before hiding behind his open robe. “Cas,” he says, “what’re you doing back?”

           Castiel’s hands are also out of sight. He glances between the two men with trademark confusion. “I only stepped out for a moment –“

           “A moment?” Dean hisses. He peeks at Sam from the corner of his eye – red and puffy, now that he pays closer attention to those kinds of details. “A moment,” he says again, stepping closer, “Cas you’ve been gone for –“

           “Almost an hour, I’ll admit,” Castiel sighs, meeting Dean halfway, “I didn’t intend to be away that long, but the line at the store was tremendous… and the register system was glitching –“

           “The store? What were you doing at a store though?”

           A smile blossoms from his pursed lips, Castiel finally revealing his hands and the heart-shaped box in them. “I got this… for you.”

           Dean falters, stunned. Stares at the present with trepidation and awe. He reaches for it, caressing the edges and following the trail until his fingers skim Castiel’s hands. Flinching away like he touched the forgotten pan of overly crispy bacon. “For me? Why?”

           “Well,” Castiel starts, “I was lying up thinking about how we sort of celebrated the holiday backwards yesterday and… I wanted to make up for it.” Sam sees the flower of Castiel’s lips wilt. “Do you… not like it? I’ll admit, it was marked considerably low…”

           He can’t see from how Dean angled himself. But the shaky shoulders and how a palm drifts up to rub his face, Sam feels glad for his obstructed seating. “That’s because it’s the day after, you idiot…”

           “Dean?”

           “Shit, Cas,” he huffs, “no note, couldn’t have texted me or something –“

           “I… I wanted this to be a surprise,” Castiel tells him, “besides, after last night I figured you would need the rest. Three times at your age is exhausting –“

           Dean cuts him off, Sam blushing fiercely while his mind shades in the crude drawing the angel began. Aided by his brother’s finishing remark. “Well maybe if you didn’t renovate my insides my spleen wouldn’t have been squeezing my bladder.”

           “Guys,” Sam chokes, the granola catching in his throat, “guys what are you –“

           “Dean,” Castiel speaks over him, “what is this about?”

           “What is this about?” Dean mocks, chuckling darkly. He inches closer, eclipsing the heart from Sam’s view. “I thought you… I thought you left…”

           A serene wave of understanding washes over Castiel’s features, smoothing the lines marring his face. Sam wishes for a similar stroke of clarity. “Next time,” Castiel says, “I will leave a note. And text. And wake you… although you can’t be mad if I do, okay?”

           The next laugh is much lighter, Dean sniffling between rounds. “Yeah… I promise.” He turns again, Sam tactlessly falling into his seat from the whiplash of his brother’s emotional rollercoaster. Gapes as Dean flicks the stove off and leaves the ruined bacon in the pan. “Come on,” he says, rattling the box of chocolates Sam failed to notice where in his possession, “let’s see what fifty percent off tastes like.”

           They’re so close to escaping, except Sam finds his words. Buried deep under shock and confusion, they’re there for him to dust off and shout. “What the hell was that?”

           Dean stops, a hand over Castiel’s on his waist to slow the other. He finally remembers Sam’s presence, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Hey,” his face twitches, “you see all that?”

           “…Yes!”

           “Well,” he drawls, leaning into Castiel while he thinks, “it was a… a fight.”

           Sam feels his eyebrows recede into his hairline. “A fight?”

           “Yeah, look,” he huffs, pointing at Sam with the heart box, “I know you and Eileen are still new but sometimes couples who’ve been together for a long time get into them every now and then. But then you make up and move past them.”

           “Oh,” Sam scoffs, “so you two are a couple now?”

           “Of course.”

           “A couple for a long time…?”

           “We only made it official last night,” Castiel says, tone easy despite the pitched voices of the Winchester brothers, “while you and Eileen were on your date, Dean and I sat and drank and shared a few words… among other things.”

           “But,” Dean carries on, “we’ve practically been together for over a decade. This is just an – an upgrade from our previous situation.”

           “An upgrade?” Sam asks.

           “Yeah,” he nods, “now I can do stuff like this.” Quickly, in a blink, Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s cheek. Rocking on his heels from the momentum of pulling back, face aflame like a bad sunburn. Almost laughable if Castiel didn’t gaze at Dean with heavenly wonder. “Whenever I want…” Dean adds, trailing off.

           The desire to tease Dean bubbles forth, but whether exhausted or blinded by the natural glow on Castiel’s face, it pops and dies in his chest. He grabs his spoon and stirs his granola. “Okay.”

           “Okay?”

           “Yeah, okay,” Sam smirks, “that’s it. Happy Valentine’s or whatever…”

           “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, Sammy,” Dean says, being led out of the room by Castiel, “later, you’ve got to tell me how your date went. I’m sure it was great – Eileen’s a really lucky girl!”

           “Bye!” he waves, waiting until the two men fully disappear behind the corner. Leaving him in relative peace for a moment. But then Jack walks in, focused on the hallway. Sam thinks he can accurately guess what captured the younger boy’s attention, only hopes that his brother has enough wits about him to maintain restraint. “Hey,” he says, startling Jack, “you want breakfast?”

           Jack strides forward, sliding in across from Sam. “Why was Castiel holding Dean’s hand?”

           Sam rolls his eyes, “Because they’re dating.”

           “They are?”

           “Apparently,” he chuckles, “it’s their day-iversary.”

           Jack cranes his neck and glances behind him once more before leaning forward, near conspiratorially. “Is this a good thing?”

           “Uh… yeah?” Sam tells him, chewing around the granola and words carefully, “Dean’s happy, and Cas is happy, too… don’t you want them happy?”

           “I do, I do, I just…” Jack frowns, staring at his fists, “I wasn’t sure the Empty would agree to nullifying Cas’s deal. But since they’re together and he’s still here...”

           Sam chokes again, spoon clattering against the bowl when he drops it. “Excuse me?” he asks, coughing fitfully, “Cas made a deal with the what?”

[suckerfordeansfreckles]

I got one! Um, cas calling Dean late at night cause he was sick, and dean was worried, and cas just wants some comfort, and it might just devolve cuz dean just can't help his love of cas and his growly sick voice . . . And cas may have already known that lol.

Soup & Syrup on AO3

Word count: 1.548 words

Rating: General Audience

Some tags: soft boys, best friends to lovers, sick Cas, AU, gentle caretaker Dean, getting together, no real kisses though because Cas is SICK

Note: @ladygotsoul I hope you like this, love, and it made you feel as soft and happy as it made my own currently sick (and possibly using this fic to project and wish lol) ass. I adore you

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, as soon as the call connects.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean mumbles into the speaker, sounding soft and half-asleep. “Fuck, you don’t sound so good.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he has to break off into a coughing fit, returning to the phone with his voice sounding even raspier. And it speaks volumes that even he himself notices it. “It’s gotten worse.”

He started feeling sick two days ago, throat raw and hurting, every part of his body in pain as if he’ll burn up with fever any second. Then he had to cancel their weekly study date in the library this afternoon, to stay home and take a quick nap that accidentally ended up four hours long and left him groggy and sweaty and weird.

Dean has been sending him texts, five since he cancelled earlier, and as soon as Cas felt awake and present enough to respond, he called.

This is where they are now, around 1 a.m. on a Saturday. He didn’t really stop to look at the clock before he called Dean, but — well. He was just hoping Dean would be awake, maybe out with friends. He was just hoping that maybe, maybe, Dean would come by and dote a little on him. Just because having his best friend around always makes him feel better. Not because he craves Dean’s presence, his palm on Cas’ forehead and his hands tucking him in beneath his blanket. Absolutely not.

“— over? Cas?” Dean speaks against his ear, low and urgent, and Cas realizes that he hasn’t been listening at all during the past few moments.

“Sorry?” he rasps. “I spaced out for a bit.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and this time it’s soft, but still somewhat urgent.

“I feel a little better, spent most of the evening asleep and drinking tea. I’m just… groggy and weird. And my cough isn’t going away,” Cas says. Maybe pouts, but Dean can’t see that, so he’s good for now.

“I have some cough syrup at home. You want me to come over and bring it?” Dean shoots back immediately, no hesitation in his voice.

“It’s way too late, but thank you. Maybe tomorrow you cou—” his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence, and that hurts his throat so much, that he falls into another coughing fit. He tries to cover it by pressing his phone against his sweater-covered stomach and coughing into the crook of his arm, but as soon as his lungs have calmed down and he pulls his phone back to his ear to restart his sentence, Dean interrupts.

“I’m coming over,” he says, worried and determined. “I’m picking up soup and bringing the syrup. You need anything else?”

Cas is stunned into a few seconds of silence, can’t help the way his heart clenches in his chest with happiness and something way too close to the desperate love he has been suppressing for months, now. “I — Thank you, Dean. That — You’re amazing. Maybe you could bring a change of clothes and… stay over, tonight?”

“Sure,” Dean breathes. “Okay, be there in 15. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

And before Cas can reply anything at all, Dean ends the call and Cas is left alone with his thoughts.

He realizes, suddenly, how disgusting he currently is. He rips open the windows in his bedroom and living room, hopes for a breeze that will bring in some fresh air, and hops into his shower — hoping that his downstairs neighbors won’t hate him for all the noise at 1:27 a.m.

When he steps out of the shower after a quick scrubbing and the cool air hits him, he starts shivering like crazy. It doesn’t seem to matter how long he uses his towel to rub himself dry, how he uses his blow-dryer for the first time in ages or that he puts on sweatpants and two pairs of socks and his coziest sweater, he’s still shaking when he sinks down on his couch and wraps a blanket around himself. At least he isn’t smelling so bad anymore. Just in case Dean feels like giving im a hug, or something.

Cas is fighting sleep again, head lolling back against the headrest of the couch, when Dean arrives and Cas hears him unlock the front door.

Dean switches on the lights as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, and as soon as Cas managed to blink his eyes open in the bright light, he finds Dean slipping out of his shoes, a soft smile on his lips and a plastic bag in his hand.

“Hey there,” he says, pulling off his jacket and closing the distance between them to sink down on the couch next to Cas, one leg pulled up so he’s facing Cas.

“Hello,” Cas rasps, sitting up so he can look at Dean.

“I got some chicken broth and this vegetable thing, wasn’t sure what you’d want.” Dean pulls the containers from the bag, sets them down on the table and leans back again. “When was the last time you had some food?”

“I had some cereal for breakfast today, but  mostly I just… didn’t feel hungry at all. I could eat now, though. I take the vegetable thing and you can have chicken,” he says, trying to suppress a smile at the way Dean lights up with relief.

“Awesome,” Dean laughs, and then he’s up and rummaging through Cas’ kitchen for spoons.

They eat in silence, straight from the plastic containers, sitting side by side and gently bumping elbows every now and then. When they are done, Dean grabs Cas’ spoon and fills it with the cough syrup, going as far as raising it up to Cas’ lips so he can slurp it up in an, unfortunately, very unattractive way that has both of them snorting a little.

“Thank you,” Cas says. “Seriously, for everything.”

“Dude, of course. You sounded — I mean, honestly, you still don’t sound so good. All… growly,” he blushes a little, and Cas can’t do anything but find him unreasonably delightful.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Dean clears his throat. “Growly and raspy. Um. And with the red nose and flushed cheeks.”

“You like that?” Cas can’t help but ask, and he’ll just blame this bluntness on the raising fever later on.

Dean blushes even harder, a lovely shade of crimson that has his eyes looking impossibly greener. “I mean —I like your voice plenty enough, when you’re healthy and feeling good.”

“You do?” Cas grins, voice pitched even lower, and he can’t help but laugh at the way Dean shivers and sinks into the couch a little deeper. “Do you wanna watch something?” he asks, so Dean can deflect in that way he always likes to do.

“Sure, yeah,” he coughs, eyes averted. He gets up and starts Netflix on the tv, starting up season one of Brooklyn 9/9, Cas’ most favorite comfort show. When he sinks back on the couch, it’s a little closer by Cas’ side.

They watch for a little while before Cas starts to shiver again, so Dean wanders off to get Cas’ blanket and switch off the lights. When he returns to the couch, Cas is stretched out along the edge. “Would you… hold me?” he asks, raspy and honestly quite miserable.

Dean looks down at him a little hesitant for a few long seconds, but then he smiles wide and determined, blurts “sure,” and snuggles down between Cas and the back of the couch and carefully wraps his arms around Cas’ middle. “This okay?” he asks, pulling the soft blanket up around them.

“Mhm,” Cas sighs softly, “very much so.” He melts back against Dean’s chest, and feels Dean’s heart pick up speed just like his own is doing. “This is nice. I’ve been… hoping for this.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, breathless and quiet. His arms tighten around Cas’ waist, head tipping down until his nose is buried in Cas’ wild hair. “Me too. Didn’t really think it’d happen this way, but… I will not complain.”

Cas turns in his arms, until he can look up at his face, and his stomach feels all warm and fuzzy. “I adore you,” he says, and Dean’s lips stretch into the cutest smile ever.

“I adore you, too,” Dean whispers back, but when he leans down, Cas ducks away so his lips land on Cas’ forehead instead of against his own lips.

“I’m sorry,” he rumbles. “But as much as I want this, I’m not gonna get you sick, too. You can kiss me all you want as soon as whatever-this-is is finally over, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. As much as you want,” Cas mumbles, and then he buries his head against Dean’s shoulder and unabashedly breathes in his woodsy, leathery smell for the very first time ever.

Maybe they end up not watching any tv at all. Maybe Cas falls asleep buried against Dean’s shoulder in mere seconds. Maybe they spend all of the weekend wrapped up on the couch together, only interrupted by Dean cooking some food and brewing tea and feeding Cas cough syrup.

Maybe, just maybe, Cas falls impossibly harder for his best friend during those few days cooped up together — and tells him so by the end of the weekend.

Tag list: @planetahmane  @justyourordinaryfangirl @winchester-cas @castielinparadise @trxye-sxvxn @runtosleepdreamer @Destielhoneybee  @breathingdestiel @wellofwoes @xxgoldensnowflake @dshelley @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @robotsnchicks @jemariel  @reallyelegantsharkfish  @mellomish  @frecklessaver   @jasminrogue  @skittles-rainbow-cat  @Insecureadult  @fpwoper  @imbiowaresbitch  @destielsangel  @elaspn @didnt-survive-twist-and-shout @mercenarydestiel    @a-pastel-pan   @7faerielights  @kathrinerose  @nerd-litteraire  @wingsandimpalas  @casbean  @miasif @petrichoravellichor @trenchcoatsandfreckles @sleephawhoneedsit @vibraniumarm @youreabadliar @inlovewithsaturn @super-powerful-queen-slayyna @brangaene @all-or-nothing-baby @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @error-name-not-in-this-dimension @elizaeverafter@letofarrell @apieceofurmind @notfunnydean @winchester-ofthe-lord @love-neve-dies @korppikasvo @imafluffyjellybean @carry-on-my-wayward-hunter

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[crispychrissy]

Foreshadow - Part 3

Summary: Y/N is hospitalized with serious injuries, and Dean realizes how much he actually cares about her. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 3611 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, fluff, smut A/N: Part three of three! I really hope you all enjoyed this miniseries! I’m going to be working on finishing my SPN Kink Bingo card, but since my birthday is on the June 21st, I will be taking the rest of this week off! This was edited by the ever so lovely @dean-winchesters-bacon. Enjoy! Part 1 - Part 2

The first time he heard it, Dean was half asleep, painfully hunched over the side of Y/N’s hospital bed. A low groan made his head shoot up, his body tense and immediately awake. Y/N’s head was moving from side to side, and the soft beeping of the heart monitor began to speed up. Dean fumbled with the bed control remote and slammed his thumb down on the nurse call button over and over again until the door creaked open and Laverne, the dark-skinned day nurse, poked her head in.

“She made a noise and her head was moving,” Dean rapsed before clearing his throat. “Does that mean she’s waking up?”

Laverne walked over and checked Y/N eyes with a pen light. She hummed and pressed a few buttons on the monitors surrounding the bed, studying their screens. “She’s not fully awake, honey. The doctor told you this might happen. Her brain was without oxygen for a few minutes, and although it may look like she’s waking up, it’s just her brain sending errant signals to her nerves.” Laverne put a hand over Dean’s and squeezed. “We’ve got her EEG hooked up to the nurse’s station, so the second we see any activity, we’ll know.”

Dean nodded and sniffled, trying and failing to return her sad smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She nodded and walked to the door, pausing before she opened it. “I’m keeping her in my prayers. God and his angels are always listening, hon.”

Dean unlocked his phone and pulled up his message thread with Castiel, looking at all the unanswered messages he’d sent the angel over the last week. “I’m not so sure about that, Laverne.”

The nurse frowned but didn’t reply, slipping from the room and into the hallway. Dean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and set his phone down on the bed before taking Y/N’s hand. She felt cold, and he carefully moved her arm under the blanket, tucking it in to keep the warmth inside. Laying his head back down on the side of the bed, Dean watched Y/N’s chest rising and falling before his eyes slipped closed.

Y/N had stopped breathing on the way to the hospital, and when they arrived in the emergency room, she had lost almost two-thirds of her blood volume. The surgery to fix the damage and remove the bullets was successful, but she still hadn’t woken up. All of the nurses knew his and Sam’s names, and they allowed Dean to use the shower and the vacant second bed in her room to sleep when his body was too sore to stay by her side.

Sam found a motel in town and was hiding out doing research and helping other hunters while he gave Dean and Y/N privacy. Sam had seen his brother go through sadness and grief before, but nothing in the past had come close to his devotion to Y/N. Dean was taking it extra hard, and Sam knew better than to try and snap his brother out of it when he was this way. Dean just had to let himself feel the pain, and nothing Sam could say would make it better.

The next time Dean heard a wheezed groan, he ignored it at first, until he felt cold fingertips brushing along the side of his face. He lifted his head and looked over at Y/N with watery eyes, smiling when he saw her beautiful eyes looking right back at him.

“Hey baby,” Dean whispered, rapidly pressing the nurse call button with renewed vigor. “Just hang on, okay?”

The room was quickly flooded with several nurses and a doctor as they began to check over Y/N and read the monitors. Finally, one they were sure she was breathing on her own, they removed the ventilator tube and allowed her to nibble on ice chips. The doctor mentioned they were going to need a few more brain scans shortly, but they would give them some privacy until they were ready.

Dean waited patiently, each crunch of the ice chips only increasing his nervousness, until Y/N finally spoke. “So who’re you?”

Dean’s face fell and his eyes began to water. “I’m… I’m Dean.”

Y/N smiled and chuckled, then coughed and wheezed at the dryness in her throat. “I know that, you idiot. Like I could forget someone like you.” She took another spoonful of ice chips and crunched away. “So where’s Sam?”

Dean let out a shaky breath and braced his arms on the side of her bed. “Don’t do that to me,” he exhaled, “I thought you had brain damage!”

“Still might,” she shrugged, “but my memory seems okay.” Y/N moved a hand to her stomach, feeling the crinkle of bandages under her hospital gown. “I got shot, right?”

“Yup. You–”

“No!” Y/N interrupted, eyes wide in horror. “My Marshall Tucker Band shirt! It was my favorite.”

Dean snorted and reached down next to his chair, retrieving two clear plastic bags, both labelled “Patient Belongings”. One bag was bloody and contained the shredded remnants of her jeans and shirt, while the other had her jacket and sneakers. “They had to cut off your clothes, so bullet holes are the least of your problems.”

“Son of a bitch,” Y/N grumbled, reaching forward to grab the bag, only to wince in pain. “Ow."

“Take it easy. You’ve been in a coma for a week.” Dean set down the two bags, then smirked. “And I have plenty of band t-shirts you can borrow while you’re recovering.”

Y/N opened her mouth to reply, but the door swung open, revealing a tall orderly who only said who he was and where he was bringing Y/N before sweeping her from the room. Once she was gone, Dean texted Sam and Castiel, begging the latter to please call him. Sam replied quickly saying he was on his way, and it was only a few minutes later when Y/N was wheeled back into the room.

“They injected me with this dye so they could see inside my brain, and it felt like I was shooting sunshine out of my ass,” Y/N said as she wiggled and smiled. “It felt so bizarre,” she looked at Dean and lowered her voice, trying and failing to whisper, “but in a good way.”

“They gave you more painkillers, too, didn’t they?” Dean asked, chuckling softly. “Enjoy ‘em while they last, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled lazily and her eyes slipped closed as she drifted off into a drug-induced slumber. Sam arrived while she was asleep, agreeing to watch Y/N while Dean showered and caught some sleep of his own in the other hospital bed. Dean's phone began ringing only a few hours after his brother fell asleep, and Sam was quick to scoop it up and move to the hallway to answer it.

Castiel gruffly apologized for his absence, saying his phone had been smashed during a struggle with a vampire on the hunt he was on, and he wasn’t able to get it replaced until today. He assured Sam he would be able to heal Y/N, and would be arriving before sundown. Sam checked his watch, seeing it was late afternoon, and gave Castiel the name of the hospital, the address, and Y/N’s room number before hanging up.

It wasn’t the first time one of the brothers or their friends had made a miraculous recovery that required a quick exit from a hospital, so Sam quietly began packing up Y/N and Dean’s things, allowing them to get some sleep before they had to make their escape. Several nurses came and went, checking Y/N’s vitals and the various machines still hooked up to her, and it was a few hours after Sam spoke to Castiel when the angel knocked on the door and stepped inside.

“I’ll wake up Dean, do your thing with Y/N, Cas,” Sam motioned to Y/N, who blinked her eyes open at the sound of her name.

“Hello, Y/N. I am Castiel,” he greeted her. “I am going to heal you. All I need to do is place my fingers on your forehead, okay?”

Y/N groaned in pain as she shifted to sit up slightly and nodded. “Go for it, wings.”

Castiel tilted his head at her nickname for him, but reached forward and pressed his fingers against her forehead. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed at the rush of warmth surging throughout her body. The pain and soreness she had felt was slowly eased, and once she could no longer feel the haze of the painkillers in her mind, she opened her eyes.

“Really, you couldn’t have let me finish enjoying the effects of the morphine?” Y/N pouted childishly and began removing the various monitoring equipment on her body.

“I apologize. I cannot target my grace as well as I was able to in the past.” Castiel glanced over at Sam, who emerged from behind the curtain with a sleepy Dean at his side. “I believe Sam has some recreational drugs you may enjoy once we return to the bunker.”

Sam’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as a blush danced across the apples of his cheeks. “Cas, that was one time.” Dean was thoroughly amused and silently looked to his brother for an explanation. “We were trying to see if angels could get high.”

Dean snorted and nodded. “Understandable.”

Y/N pulled the IV out of her arm with a hiss, and before she could reach to grab some medical tape and gauze, Castiel touched her forehead again and healed the small puncture wound. “Thanks,” she smiled at him before turning to look at the Winchesters, “we ready to go?”

“Not quite,” Sam gestured to her hospital gown and smiled, “but don’t worry, I grabbed some of Dean’s clothes before I left the motel.” He handed over a plastic bag and Y/N took it, slipping into the bathroom to change.

There was a pair of sweatpants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, both of which were too big on her, but she pulled them on, savoring the warmth and softness of the fabric against her skin. Even though Castiel had healed her wounds, she was still extremely cold and a little bit wobbly on her feet since her legs hadn't been used in a week. Once she returned to the room, Sam grabbed her belongings and left with Castiel, and Dean pulled off Y/N’s hospital ID band before they slipped from the room a few minutes later.

Finally outside, Y/N took a deep breath of fresh air, admiring the Impala where it was parked on at the curb. Dean held open the passenger’s side door for Y/N, who bowed and slid onto the bench seat. Dean pulled open his door, sat down, and started the engine.

“Where’s Sam and Castiel?” Y/N asked as Dean pulled away from the curb and onto the road.

“Sammy’s headed back to the motel room to grab our stuff and he’s gonna ride home with Cas.” Dean pushed the tape resting on the player into the stereo and clicked it on, turning up the volume on the Marshall Tucker Band song that began to play. “You’re riding with me because you appreciate good music.”

“And you kinda like me,” Y/N added nonchalantly, tapping her foot to the music.

Dean laughed and grinned. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

***

The drive back to the bunker was full of snacks, shared stories, and classic rock. Dean and Y/N beat Sam and Castiel back by almost forty-five minutes, and it was just enough time for her to take a shower to wash off the hospital gunk on her skin. Sponge baths could only do so much. Once her shower was finished and she was settled in the room Dean had showed her earlier, she began brushing her hair when someone knocked on her door.

“Yeah?”

Dean pushed the door open and poked his head in before moving inside, his hands behind his back. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Y/N put down her brush and stood, wrapping the fluffy cotton robe tighter around her body. “Much better now that she hospital grime is off me.” She gestured to the pile of Dean’s clothes she borrowed. “Might want to burn those. I was gross when we left the hospital.”

“Nonsense. I’ll just wash em.” His eyes lit up with mischief and he stepped closer. “Also, I have a surprise.” Dean moved his hands in front of him and held up what he was hiding. It was a threadbare Marshall Tucker Band t-shirt, almost identical to the one Y/N was wearing when she was shot. “It’s for you.”

“Dean, it’s perfect!” Y/N exclaimed happily, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling him into her arms, the shirt sandwiched between them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered, squeezing her tight. “I also wanted to apologize for how I treated you when we first met.”

Y/N pulled back and accepted the t-shirt, hanging it over the desk chair in the corner. “It’s okay, Dean. Garth only told me a little of your history, but I can sense the rest. I can feel the heartbreak and loss that surrounds your heart. I don’t know specifics, but I know enough to not hold it against you.” Y/N returned to stand in front of Dean, gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t have to hide yourself around me, Dean. I can tell you’re a good man, despite your so-called mistakes and the people you’ve lost. You never stopped fighting, and you never stopped helping those in need.” She placed her other hand over his heart. “And that? That’s a sign of a pure heart.”

Dean surged forward after her words sunk in, capturing her lips with his in a tentative kiss. When Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, he deepened the kiss, hungrily exploring her mouth with his tongue. A soft moan from her made his cock begin to swell in his jeans, and he pulled back, catching his breath.

“Tropes be damned,” Y/N whispered, a bright smile on her lips before she leaned forward and kissed Dean again, nibbling lightly on his bottom lip.

In a mess of giggles and breathy sighs, the two of them stumbled their way to Y/N’s bed. She slipped off her robe, leaving her nude, and climbed onto the bed, waiting for Dean to shed his layers and join her. Dean stripped down faster than she thought was possible, and once he was finally naked, he climbed over her and began running his hands up and down the soft skin of her curves as he began kissing her neck.

Y/N spread her legs when she felt Dean’s hands become more bold, and she shivered when his fingers slid between her folds, gathering the slick that was pooling there.

“So wet,” he murmured against her collar bone before suckling at her skin, forming a purple mark.

“Dean,” she gasped as two fingers pushed forward, sliding into her channel, stretching her. “Fuck…”

Dean continued to slide his fingers in and out, rubbing gentle circles on her clit with each thrust. Crooking his fingers carefully, he moved around, smiling smugly when his fingertips brushed against a spongy spot on the inside wall of her pussy that sent her hips straight off the bed and made a long moan spill from her lips.

“That’s it, baby,” Den praised, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, mesmerized at how her body twitched under his ministrations. His cock was throbbing and almost painfully hard, and once Y/N was approaching her climax, he removed his fingers and leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing his pants and the condom from his wallet.

Y/N was pouting, her pussy clenching around nothing, as Dean slipped the condom on and shuffled forward on his knees, settling between her legs again. Dean looked up at her, silently asking for permission, and she smiled, spreading her legs wider in invitation.

An invitation Dean would never refuse.

In one slow movement, he pushed forward, slipping his cock into her pussy until he was fully seated, groaning at how her walls fluttered and tightened around him as she adjusted. Y/N’s head was thrown back and her eyes were closed, and when Dean’s thumb brushed against her clit, she squealed and jerked her hips, looking at him with lust-hazed hooded eyes.

“Fuck, Dean, need it hard,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Dean smiled lewdly and nodded. He pulled almost all the way out before using all his weight to slam forward, pushing the air out of Y/N’s lungs with the impact. She gasped as he reared back and repeated the action again and again until she was whimpering, babbling nonsense, as he drove her higher and higher.

Y/N had never been fucked like this before. Dean knew exactly where to touch and how to move his hips to make sure that every slide of his cock brushed against her sweet spot. His thumb worked her clit with expert pressure and precision, and it didn’t take long for the combination of sensations to pull a mind-blowing orgasm from her.

Y/N came with a shout of Dean’s name, her back arching off the bed as Dean swore under his breath and began rapidly pounding into her clenching pussy. The warm slick pressure around his cock felt like heaven, and Dean dug his fingers into her hips as his own orgasm approached. He came with a low groan, thrusting through his climax as he throbbed into the condom before collapsing on top of her and trying to catch his breath.

“Wow,” Y/N exhaled, running her fingers through Dean’s sweat damp hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard or been fucked that good.”

“Yeah?” Dean grinned, his chest puffing out in pride as he slipped out of her with a low hiss, rolling to her side. Pulling off the condom, Dean tied it and threw it across the room. It slapped against the wall before landing in the trash bin with a plop.

“Nice three-pointer, Kobe,” Y/N murmured, curling into Dean’s chest once he was laying down again.

“You like classic rock, love cheeseburgers, and you know sports?” Dean chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. “I think you should stick around for a while. If you want.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N hummed in thought, closing her eyes. “Well, I can see the future, and I can definitely see myself in yours.”

Dean laughed and pulled the blankets up around the two of them. “I would love nothing more.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled at the soft snores already coming from her parted lips. “Goodnight, Y/N."

***

Forevers [CLOSED]: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @growningupgeek @jensen-gal @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @atc74 @pilaxia @supernatural-jackles @impala-dreamer @bambi95-blog @wonderfulworldofwinchester @batmmgray @brooke-supernatural16 @dwgrl1903 @hey-bxtch @kittenofdoomage @leanbeankeane @emoryhemsworth @xalgaliareptx @mhnfatima @bi-e-ne @speakinvain @pebblesz892 @lastactiontricia @kassablanca13 @mogaruke @tockettt @imagining-supernatural @wildefire @serienjunkiegirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @stars-and-seas @jaremish @ellen-reincarnated1967 @nyxveracity @andkatiethings @bamby0304 @deathtonormalcy56 @winchesterprincessbride @moonstar86 @missihart23 @mrs-meghan-winchester @miss-rebel-without-applause @dean-winchesters-bacon @researchandbones @wayward-angelgirl @bojabee @maddiepants

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @focusonspn​ @spnwoman @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @sandlee44 @spn--imagines @sadwaywardkid @roonyxx @blackcherrywhiskey @thefaithfulwriter

[helianthus21]

okay heli, 001 + destiel // 002 + castiel, and also Charlie ✨

when I started shipping it if I did: i don’t really remember, maybe sometime around On The Head Of A Pin when Uriel tattled about how much Cas like-likes Dean 🤭

my thoughts: god tier of ships, they have it all: enemies to friends to lovers, battle couple, mutual pining, amnesia, ... what’s missing is bed sharing and fake relationship but we get that in fanfic land

What makes me happy about them: their utter devotion to each other:’) and how they still sometimes piss each other off like an old married couple hehe

What makes me sad about them: that they’re not canon hahaha (and the s9 thing That Did Not Happen yikes)

things done in fanfic that annoys me: them being parents to you-know-who; when one of them is the possessive kind of jealous

things I look for in fanfic: mutual pining, but also established relationship, enemies to lovers, protective!Dean even tho Cas doesn’t need it...

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Dean: Lisa (but not really after seasons of her absence). Cas: no one? I can’t imagine him with anyone else tbh

My happily ever after for them: they grow old together (Cas either makes himself age with Dean or not either is fine), they hunt until they settle down but are still involved in the hunting community as the new Bobbys, and when Dean dies, Cas joins him in his Heaven:’)

who is the big spoon/little spoon: they take turns:) they’re both so used to the protector role, but it’s nice for the both of them to feel protected too sometimes

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: watching movies together, watching the other fixing cars/gardening, road trips, listening to the mixtape together:’)

002 | Castiel

How I feel about this character: I LOVE HIM WITH MY WHOLE HEART ;_; one of the best characters ever

All the people I ship romantically with this character: just Dean :D

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Balthazar, Sam, Charlie, Anna, Gabriel

My unpopular opinion about this character: not that unpopular but controverse: i want him to stay an angel:’D and that his s6 “sins” are overly demonized when it wasn’t anything any of TFW hasn’t already done or would’ve done

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: that canon had developed his complicated relationship with Claire, given him a sense of family with both the angels + the Winchesters, given him his powers back, given him a cohesive journey to recover from his trauma

my OTP: Destiel

my cross over ship: i don’t ship him with anyone but Dean, but it would be funny to see Jack Harkness flirting with him:D

a headcanon fact: not originally my hc but i love the idea that he likes gardens bc of his favourite Heaven, and that he’s a little bit scared of swimmng bc of the Leviathan thing. and that he talks in Enochian or slips into any other language when he’s distracted/angry/emotional

002 | Charlie

How I feel about this character: LOVE HER!!!;_;

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Gilda, Jo, Alicia Banes

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Dean, Cas, Kevin

My unpopular opinion about this character: AU!Charlie? I don’t know her 🙃

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:  i wish they had not KILLED HER LMAO. also that she’d become best friends with Cas and met Donna and Kevin

my OTP: hmm Charlie/Gilda I guess

my cross over ship: i’ve been thinking she’d love to go on adventures with Rose Tyler but then I already ship Rose/Doctor so much.. hmm maybe Vanya Hargreeves, she’d def. give her all the love. or Raven Reyes from The 100

a headcanon fact: not sure if it’s a hc but she lives with TFW + Kevin (+ later also Eileen) in the Bunker :)

ask game | ask me