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babygirlwolverine · 3 years ago

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The 5 Senses of Longing

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

Also posted on ao3.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Dean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cas nodded.

“Aquarium or the zoo?”

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

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

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

Too cute.

Dean turned his eyes back to the road again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fish,” Dean said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Dean.”

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

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

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

Shit. Dean was well and truly smitten.

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

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

There was no escaping the feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” Dean hummed quietly.

“Kiss me again.”

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

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

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad au #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat batfam #mbdbwm2021 #day six overprotection #ao3fic

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hepaliendestielrecs · 4 years ago

Text

Hidden Gems Destiel Fic Rec

Amazing fics with <10k hits

Woven by MajorEnglishEsquire (@chuckwinchester) [T, <1k]

Bunker Fic, Fluff

"It's cooling down in the bunker and Cas can't find the blankets."

the whole package by @outpastthemoat [G, <1k]

Fluff, Dancing

Castiel is watching Dean’s face when the couples on the dance floor start slow dancing and Dean says suddenly, "I think it’s nice."

Whose Belt Is It Anyway? by Hatteress (@goddammitstacey) [T, 1k]

Season 8, Oblivious, UST

Prompted by the promo to 6.07 - Family Matters. There's a belt. It's not around someone's waist. So whose is it?

The Name Game by @xylodemon [G, 1.1k]

Future Fic, Fluff, Human Cas

"They haven't called my number," Cas complains, glancing around the office.

more under the cut

To Have and To Hold by midnightcastiel (@miraclecastiel) [NR (I’d say Gen), 1.2k]

Fluff, First Kiss, Canon Verse

The wind steals their breath as they approach the graveyard. Dean walks between Cas and Sam, and he is sure that his nose and hands are frost bitten. Dean barely has time to grumble the complaint out loud before he feels Cas’s hand in his, warm and gentle.

Carpooling by @alchemyalice [G, 1.4k]

Crack, Humor, Season 5

This is the worst car ride in the history of ever.

Every Word Is True by Sass_Master (@sass-master-stina) [M, 1.7k]

Rimming, Established Relationship, PWP

“I want to eat you out,” Cas says, low and sincere, a spark of mirth coloring his tone.

Dean sucks in a breath, holds it and lets it out slowly. “Okay.”

stoic minds and bleeding hearts by microcomets (@mishcollin) [G,1.7k]

Fluff, Angst, Fallen Cas

Castiel discovers human memory is limited and sets out to remedy that situation; Dean makes some...interesting discoveries.

Beer Good by @lisztful [T, 1.8k]

Fluff

Dean decides to find out what happens when you get an angel drunk.

After All That’s Been Said and Done by imogenbynight (@thevioletcaptain) [T, 1.9k]

Season 9

He's been in love for three years. Has known it for at least two. He wonders what it would be like to just blurt it out like these kids do. He might have faced the devil without breaking a sweat, but the thought of putting himself on the line like that makes his stomach clench and his palms clammy.

untouched & intact by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 1.9k]

Fallen Cas, Season 8 coda

After Castiel falls from heaven, he figures he has two options. He can find Dean Winchester, or he can get spectacularly drunk.

He opts for the latter.

Full Circle by Winter_of_our_Discontent (@bamfinacuddlyjumper) [M, 2k]

First Kiss, UST, Fluff, First Time

“C’mon," Dean said, "You gotta try pie, Cas, it’s like… the whole point of being human.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Right, Dean. Forget the collected works of Shakespeare. The Taj Mahal. Baked goods are way more important.”

Dean didn’t look up from where he was delicately shaving curls of vanilla ice cream off the frozen block and onto the plates with a fragile plastic spoon. “Dude, talk to me when Hamlet comes in a delicious flaky buttery crust.”

Break the Walls Between Us by @remmyme [E, 2k]

PWP, First Time

Dean rapidly blinks away his confusion. “You want me to…what?”

The Coat by petramacneary [G, 2.4k]

Fluff, Team Free Will, Season 5, Canon Divergent

Cas' coat gets ruined during a hunt, and Dean goes to buy him a new one. Featuring Team Free Will trying to be as normal as possible.

to boldly (kinda sorta) go by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 2.7k]

Fluff, Fallen Cas, Team Free Will, Charlie Bradbury, Post-season 8

That one where Team Free Will and Charlie cosplay as Star Trek characters. Post-season 8.

because i could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 3.2k]

Fallen Cas, Fluff, Angst

Castiel dies and is given a choice.

Stars Fall On by @mithrilwren [T, 3.5k]

Domestic, Sam & Cas Friendship

Sam doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know why Cas is here, lying on the dirty floor surrounded by tools and muttering around faulty wiring.

“Need a hand?”

Like Fields of Grain by feyjewels [T, 5.6k]

Fluff, Angst, Domestic, Canon Divergent, Post-Canon, Fix-it

Warning: Major Character Death

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

the run and go by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 2.7k]

Fluff, Fallen Cas, Domestic

Cas makes a list. Dean is Yoda, and Sam is unimpressed.

Home by imogenbynight (@thevioletcaptain) [T, 6.9k]

Angst, Fluff, Season 8

It's late October, Hell is still open for business, and they haven't heard a thing from Kevin since April.

Castiel, either--not that Dean hasn't been trying to do something about that.

He hasn't prayed this much since Purgatory.

bloodflood by orphan_account [M, 7k]

Hurt/Comfort, Case fic

Sam and Dean are hunting a case in the cold Minnesota wilderness when an unexpected friend turns up.

Good Things Do Happen by @trinityofone [T, 11k]

Canon Divergent, Post-Season 5, Everyone Lives AU, Christmas, Sam POV

Yes this is a Christmas fic and I was planning on saving them all for a Christmas rec list later in the year, but I was gobsmacked when I saw this only had 7500 hits because in my mind it’s a CLASSIC. 100 of those hits are probably me.

A Winchester Family Christmas, 2010. AKA, Best zombie Christmas ever!

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fic rec #deancas #deancas fic rec #hidden gems #reclist

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haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.”

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze.

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.” Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile.

It’s been a real headache of a night.

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm.

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right.

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County).

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

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

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes.

“Like-- like-- with a combine?”

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.”

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

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

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big.

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold.

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks.

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow.

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole.

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering.

“What?” Dean demands.

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive.

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?”

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.”

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on.

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks.

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!”

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out.

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth.

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground.

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat.

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming.

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom.

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

#suptober21 #destiel #minific #i had fun with this #this is the first fic I'm ever posting y'all!#happy harvest

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wayward-dreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Life’s Lessons - Part 2

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Fitting In

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned)

Other characters: OFC’s: Emily Charlton; Olivia; Katie (Y/N’s best friend)

Word Count: 4,778 (song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: Y/N has survived her first week in a new town. However, after discovering that Dean and Lisa are in fact a couple, she wants nothing more than to lock herself up in her house. The neighborhood Saturday barbecue comes around, and Y/N finds herself by his side when Lisa isn’t around. Their conversation brings up some thoughts for her about Dean and Lisa’s so-called ‘perfect’ relationship.

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, reader misses her family, mentions of past family struggles, mentions of reader’s ex.

Music: All The Pretty Girls by Kaleo (Y/N unpacking scene), Howling at Nothing by Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats (BBQ scene), You Make Loving Fun by Fleetwood Mac (Dean and Y/N conversation).

A/N: Here’s Part 2! I’m so glad everyone liked the first part, and it’s been great to hear what you think about what might happen! Keep sending your theories and thoughts in, I love hearing what y’all think! Happy reading! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Y/N’s first week didn’t go as great as she expected.

She naively thought things would be good after the first day, which had started a little wonky but ended up being better once she met Cas and Charlie. She had become really friendly with them, and she was glad that they were a highlight of each day. Her 7th graders were great, but she had to do a lot of work with them to make them come out of their shells. Her 8th graders on the other hand… she just didn’t understand how to get through to them. Some of them were loud and disruptive, a couple of them were bullying another girl, and others just didn’t seem to care at all. Ben was a good kid, but he got easily swayed by the loud ones. They had so much potential, and they had to start being better if they were ever going to survive high school.

She walked out of the grocery store, pushing a shopping cart with two heavy brown bags. After finishing up at school, she decided to go and buy a few essentials plus some stuff to make dinner. She was looking forward to a nice meal she cooked and a glass of wine, maybe two. As she drove through town to get home, she smiled. Despite everything, Lawrence was a peaceful town. She had to hope that she could strap in and really get through to the kids, so that living here would be worth it.

As she drove down her street, she smiled as she saw Dean sitting on his porch steps. She pulled into her driveway and got out of the car, smiling as she saw him talking on the phone. She walked over to her trunk and opened it, picking up the two bags in there. She left the trunk open, as she struggled to hold the bags, cursing the guy at the check-out for filling them so much to save on bags. Suddenly, there was a pressure on one of the bags, as it ripped at the bottom, not being able to handle the weight of the items. Two cans fell and started rolling down her driveway.

“Shit!” she yelled, as she manoeuvred the bags and tried to hold them both in one arm.

Dean, who was still on the phone as he sat on the porch steps, saw everything from across the street.

“Sammy, let me call you back” He quickly hung up the phone and rushed across the street. He got to the end of the driveway just in time and swept up the rolling cans. Y/N saw him and beamed, relieved.

“Thank you” she breathed heavily.

“No problem, can’t have run away cans on the street” he smiled, as he continued to hold them. “Here, let me get that for ya.”

He picked up the broken bag from her arm and held it, his hand at the bottom.

“Between my furniture and my groceries, I think you’re my savior” she laughed.

Dean shook his head, a smirk on his face. “I take the job very seriously.”

“I hope that call wasn’t important?” she asked, knowing he had been on the phone with someone.

“Nah, just my pain in the ass little brother. It’s okay, he’ll get over it” he replied, laughing slightly.

Y/N laughed with him, getting lost in his green eyes again. He looked even more sexy and handsome today, now wearing a red and black plaid shirt on top of a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. She had told herself she’d wait to ask him for dinner, and now she couldn’t think of a more perfect time, having just saved the items for dinner.

“Hey, um… are you doing anything tonight? I was going to make dinner for myself but if you’re free-” she started to ask but got cut off by a voice coming from his house.

“Dean!” a female voice called as she came out onto his porch.

Y/N’s heart sunk as Ben’s mother, Lisa, came out and looked around. When she spotted him, she waved him in.

“Can you help with dinner?” she asked and then walked back inside the house. Y/N had never seen which house Lisa and Ben had come from that day, so this was shocking. The guy she was kind of crushing on was Lisa’s boyfriend. Ben’s dad. Fucking great.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize-” Y/N started but Dean shook his head.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I should go” he helped her take the bags inside the house and then awkwardly stood there.

“I’ll see ya around” he gave her a quick nod before he rushed off, before she could say anything.

Y/N frowned as she closed the door behind him. She leaned her head against it as she groaned. Why did she have to start liking him without knowing his situation? She moved away from the door and walked into the kitchen. She was going to get started on dinner for one and try to stop thinking about her ridiculously good-looking neighbor.

Dean walked into his house, finding Lisa in the kitchen. She had a blank expression on her face, as she chopped up the vegetables.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“Why were you talking to Y/N?” she asked in return, abruptly.

Dean blinked a few times, confused by her question. “She was just struggling with some broken grocery bags. I helped her.”

“Whatever” she mumbled, as she moved away to the stove.

Dean shook his head, walking out of the kitchen and to the backyard. Lisa was suddenly in one of her moods and he needed to get away. He usually hid out in the garage until things cooled down with her.

Y/N was thankful to have finished her first week and now move into another Saturday. She still had a few boxes that needed to be emptied, having done most of them last week and then sporadically through the week. She was going to do that in the morning and then look over her plans for the next week of school, before chilling that night and having a drink.

After a quick breakfast and putting on one of her phone playlists this time, she got started as her favorite Kaleo song came through the speakers. She smiled sadly as she put up some of the pictures she hadn’t yet, her heart aching knowing she had left her family behind. One of her with her sister and parents. One of her sister and brother-in-law with her nieces; the younger one having just been born before Y/N had to leave. One of just her and her sister. This was the one thing that made her regret leaving: her family. She stepped back as she looked at the photos on the mantel above the fireplace, remembering all the wonderful times she had with her loved ones.

The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts. As she walked to the door, Y/N looked up at the clock, seeing it was 12.30pm already. She opened the door, her smile becoming a bit forced once she saw it was Emily Charlton, one of her middle-aged divorced neighbors. She had already been over several times that week with baked goods, which she ended up feeding to the birds after one bite.

“Hi, Emily. What can I do for you?” she asked, politely and hoping the woman would leave soon.

“I’m just here to find out if you got the fliers in your mail about the barbecue today” she replied, her big white teeth beaming.

“Oh, yeah, I did see that” Y/N said, remembering the two fliers she had received.

“Well, it’s at Sid and Olivia’s and starts at 1, and it would be good for everyone to meet you” Emily continued to smile. She pointed at the house, then primped her blonde hair with her long acrylic nails.

Y/N rolled her eyes while she wasn’t looking. “I’m sorry, Emily, I can’t. I just have a lot of work to do-” she started but Emily waved a finger, her fake nails looking like they could gauge an eye out.

“Nonsense, I absolutely insist on you coming to lunch. There’s still so many on the street you haven’t met yet” she insisted.

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. It was better to give in than keep arguing. “Sure.”

Emily laughed in a high pitch tone, making Y/N cringe. “Wonderful!”

“Great” she mumbled, under her breath.

“So, we’ll see you soon, and uh” Emily looked her up and down, causing Y/N to frown. She looked down at herself, dressed in just a loose, plain red t-shirt and her boyfriend jeans. Emily smiled one more time, fake as ever, before she strutted off.

Y/N closed the door, wanting to shut everyone and everything out, but she wasn’t going to do that. She was going to glam herself up and go to the barbecue, to rub it in Emily Charlton’s face that she could be fake all she wanted, it wasn’t going to affect her.

She frowned as she thought about how she shouldn’t go there empty-handed. If she did, she’d probably be the talk of the street and be highly judged for it. She normally didn’t care what people thought of her, but in this case, if she could avoid it, she would. It was better to be slightly late. Plus, who showed up right on time, anyway? She quickly searched around in her kitchen cupboards and found a box of Betty Crocker brownies in her pantry. She quickly made the pre-mix. She smiled. She was good, even in a time crunch. No one needed to know they were from a box. She put the brownies into the oven and set the timer.

Y/N showered and washed her hair, drying it into a natural, summer-y look once she got out. She got dressed into a red, cap sleeve summer dress, with a small white flower print on it. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 1pm.

When the timer went off, she walked back into the kitchen and took out the brownies, waiting for them to cool. She went back into her room and applied her make-up, keeping it simple with a little foundation, some mascara and a little lip gloss. She put on her wedge heels and her small bag across her body. After a few minutes when she was dressed and ready, she cut the brownies and put them in a container. She put her sunglasses on, before walking out of the house. She locked up and put her keys in her bag, climbing down her porch stairs before walking down the street.

Y/N was nervous to be around so many people, hearing the sounds of music and laughter coming from Sid’s house. Especially if most of those people turned out to be like Emily Charlton, but she couldn’t let them scare her if they were. She wouldn’t let anyone overwhelm her and push her around again. She had suffered enough the first time, and she wouldn’t let it happen again.

She saw some people walk in through the side entrance to the backyard, as some older teens played touch football in the front yard. Y/N followed behind those people, looking out for Sid or Olivia. She looked around the large backyard as Nathaniel Rateliff crooned away from the large speaker on the back porch. She had seen them around, Emily telling her who they were, so Y/N hoped she could spot them properly and didn’t confuse them for someone else. Luckily, she heard Emily’s high pitched “Olivia!” and saw her hugging another blonde woman.

Y/N walked over, putting her sunglasses on her head. She smiled as she approached Olivia, laughing to herself as her face looked just as uncomfortable to be around Emily.

“Olivia, hi. I’m Y/N” she said, smiling.

“Oh yes, so good to finally meet you” Olivia smiled, shaking her hand. “Emily told me about you, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Hello again, Y/N” Emily’s fake smile beaming once again.

“Hi” Y/N nodded at her before turning back to Olivia. “I thought I’d bring a little something.”

She handed over the container.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, but thank you. Okay, Sid’s handling the grill and there’s already plenty, so please help yourself. Can I get you a beer? Wine? Something stronger to deal with Emily?” Olivia laughed, when Emily had walked off to speak to someone else.

Y/N’s eyes widened with surprise, as she laughed too. She liked Olivia already.

“A beer would be great” she continued to laugh.

Olivia bent down and took a beer out of an ice bucket. She opened the lid with a bottle opener and handed it to her.

“So, what do you do, Y/N?” Olivia asked, as she sipped her wine. She started walking towards the food table and Y/N followed beside her.

“I’m an English teacher, junior high” Y/N replied, before taking a sip of her beer.

Olivia stopped and smiled at her, a fondness in her eyes, which Y/N would’ve found strange but something about her look was pleasant.

“My mom was an English teacher. She passed last year, but it still feels like yesterday” Olivia quietly told her.

“I’m sorry, Olivia” Y/N gave her a sad smile. “She must’ve been amazing, if she was anything like her daughter.”

Olivia beamed; her eyes slightly watery. She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders as they walked towards the food table.

Y/N’s smile dropped when she saw who was standing at the table. Lisa was shifting things around, making place for everything on the table. Dean, who was dressed in jeans and black half-sleeve button-up shirt, came up behind her. She turned her head and kissed him on the cheek. Y/N felt a tightness in her chest but chose to ignore it. Olivia walked over to the table and placed her container down, making some small talk with Lisa. Dean turned his head, smiling when he saw Y/N.

Dean could feel his heart racing. She was stunning, every single thing about her. From her hair, to the way she looked in that summer dress, which had a slit on the side, giving a peek of her smooth leg. He couldn’t be looking at her, not with Lisa standing right next to him. Y/N smiled in return, getting lost in his features yet again. He was so incredibly good-looking, it hurt to look at him.

Y/N looked away from him when Olivia tapped her shoulder. She smiled at her, trying not to let it show that she and Dean had been staring at each other.

“Aren’t they perfect together?” Olivia said, not really seeking a reply as she smiled at Dean and Lisa.

“Yeah.” Y/N smile faltered.

“So, help yourself. I’m just going to check in with Sid and see if he needs anything. I’ll be back” Olivia walked off, leaving her to go to her husband.

Y/N walked closer to the table, trying to smile when Lisa noticed her.

“Hi, good to see you” Lisa smiled. “Can I get you anything?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’ll help myself, thanks.”

“Okay” Lisa turned from her to Dean. “I’m just going to check where Ben is, can you plate some for me?” she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Sure” he nodded, before grabbing a plate and putting food on it.

Y/N smiled as Lisa walked past her and then looked over at Dean. She didn’t know for sure, but it felt like Lisa was being a bit aloof with her. She chose to ignore it for now. She walked closer to the table, and Dean looked up at her.

“It’s really good to see you” he said. The way he was looking at her was different to how he had been looking at Lisa.

She felt her cheeks get a little hot. “It’s good to see you, too.” Y/N started to put some food on her plate.

“So, how-” he started but was cut off by a shrill voice calling out her name.

“Y/N! Get over here, young lady!” Emily yelled from across the yard. She had a gaggle of middle-aged women around her.

She turned back to Dean; her eyes wide. “Is there any way I can get out of going there?”

Dean laughed. “Afraid not.”

She groaned, as she closed her eyes. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it” Dean smirked.

Y/N opened her eyes, smiling when she saw him smirking at her.

“You can handle a few divorcee’s and housewives” he assured her.

She bit her lip, as she shook her head. Somehow, he had managed to ease her mind. “Thanks.”

Y/N took her plate and beer, throwing her shoulders back and walking over there with confidence. Dean admired her as she walked away, checking her out as her hips swayed. It was dangerous to be doing that with so many people around, but he took his chance. He picked up two plates and walked away from the table, in search of Lisa.

Y/N couldn’t hide the boredom on her face, as the divorcee’s and housewives asked her questions about her life.

“So, Y/N, are you seeing anyone special?” one woman asked.

“Nope” Y/N answered around a mouthful of hot dog, not really caring about anything other than food at that point.

“Why not? A pretty, young girl like you” equally nosey Jill, added.

Y/N shrugged, still eating. “I just got here and want to take my time, you know?”

Emily shook her head. “No, there’s definitely more to the story. It was a bad break up, wasn’t it? That’s why you moved here.”

Y/N frowned, glaring at Emily. “You know, it’s really not something I want to talk about.”

“Oh, Y/N, if you don’t talk to us, who can you talk to? We’re here to help” Emily gave her the best sympathetic face she could probably muster.

“You know what? You could help me with this” Y/N handed Emily the empty plate. “I’m going to get another beer.”

She didn’t stick around to see the shock on Emily’s face to her abrupt departure and Y/N’s plate in her hand.

Y/N felt the anger simmering in her belly as she walked away. The last thing she needed was advice from that woman. She just wanted to grab a beer and go sit somewhere in the front yard, away from everyone else. She picked up a bottle and opened it, taking a sip as she walked away. She walked out to the front yard and looked around. There was a large tree with good shade near the fence, which would be nice and secluded. As she walked closer, she noticed someone leaning against it. She walked around, smiling when she saw Dean with a beer in his hands.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked.

“‘Course not” he smirked, as he shifted over.

“I seriously had to get away from those women” Y/N groaned, sitting down on the ground next to him.

“Yeah, they’ll do that to ya” he laughed, sipping his beer.

“Well, I handled it like you said” she smiled, holding her bottle towards him.

He nodded, approvingly, clinking his bottle to hers. “Nice.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, as Fleetwood Mac could be heard from the backyard. Y/N looked at him, appreciating his features now that she was closer. Freckles scattered under his eyes and on his nose, and his eyes were even more striking up close.

“So…” she trailed off, thinking of what to ask him. “Did you grow up here?”

He nodded, a small smile appearing on his face. “Yeah, born and raised. My parents are still in the same house we grew up in. My little brother lives in Kansas City with his wife.”

“Are you and your brother close?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s always been me and Sammy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, my parents were good with us, but there were times when they’d fight, and I’d have to look out for him” he replied, looking down at his bottle.

Y/N frowned, and Dean noticed. “Oh, don’t worry, my parents were great, it’s just sometimes… they didn’t see eye to eye, you know? They’re good now, though. Have been for a long time.”

She smiled, seeing how fondly he spoke of his family. They must’ve been close. She was missing hers a lot.

“What about you?” he asked in return.

“I was born and raised in Rhinebeck, New York. No brother, but sister instead. She’s married to a great guy, so he definitely feels like a brother” she told him, a sad smile on her face. “They have two beautiful daughters, one was just born before I left so I’m going to miss seeing her.”

“Wow. From New York to Kansas” he muttered, laughing. She joined in. “Why the big move?” he wondered, as he took another sip of his beer.

“I…” she breathed out, shaking her head. “I needed to get away. It just became… too much.”

Dean nodded, but he understood that that wasn’t the whole story.

“But this is a great town, not too different from back home, so that’s a plus” she said, smiling at him.

Dean smiled in return. “That’s great.”

They looked into each other eyes, and she felt that familiar fluttering in her stomach.

Don't, don't break the spell It would be different and you know it will You, you make loving fun And I don't have to tell you but you're the only one

The words of the song were beginning to freak her out as they maintained eye contact. Y/N quickly looked away. This was unsafe ground they were about to tread.

“How’d you meet Lisa?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

Dean breathed deep, with a long exhale. “She was here from Indiana visiting some friends, and we met one night at a bar. It was a one-time thing, but then a few months later she moved here with Ben when she got a job opportunity. We met up again… and we’ve been together three years.”

“Wait…” she thought about everything he just said, suddenly confused. “Ben’s-”

“Yeah, he’s… not mine, technically. It feels like he is, though” Dean finished for her.

“Gosh, I really should’ve guessed with the last names” she shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself for not realizing sooner.

“It’s all good, Y/N” he chuckled.

“Well, you guys look really close” she said, trying to sound happy.

“Yeah” he huffed, knowing he and Lisa were far from close these days.

Maybe coming to talk to him hadn’t been such a good idea. She seriously had to start liking a taken guy, didn’t she? At least he wasn’t married. Oh yeah, Y/N. That makes it better she thought, as she closed her eyes at her own stupid thoughts. Though she had to wonder, if things were great between him and Lisa then why was he sitting out here, far away from her?

Dean looked up and looked into her eyes again. Sitting there and talking to her about Lisa just didn’t feel natural. It really did feel like he was living a lie, it had felt like that since way before Y/N showed up.

Y/N quickly looked away from him. She needed to leave. She quickly stood up, dusting her dress off.

“I should really get going. I have a lot of work to do” she said, turning to him as he stood up.

“On a Saturday?” he asked, confused. Dean took the empty beer bottle out of her hand. The brush of his fingers against hers sent a tingling sensation through her arm and over her body.

“Life of a teacher” she quickly joked, pulling her hand away.

Dean huffed a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, I’ll see you around?”

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yeah.”

Dean looked back at the back yard, before looking at her. “I better find Lisa.”

“Thanks for the chat” she said, playing nervously with the strap of her bag.

“No problem” he smirked.

He slowly walked backwards and gave her a small wave, before turning and walking away.

Y/N watched him walk to the back yard before she turned and walked down the sidewalk. She quickly made it home, closing the door behind her. She walked into her bedroom, dropping her bag on the chair and then stripped off her dress and shoes. She changed into her large sleep shirt, which came down to just above her knees. She threw her hair up in a bun and walked into her bathroom, taking the make-up wipes to rub off her make-up. She washed her face and wiped it down with a small towel, flicking the light off as she left.

As she went about that routine, her mind was on Dean. Just a short amount of time to talk, a few looks between them, a small touch of his hand against hers, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. There was an air about him, almost like you could trust him completely. He would take care of you and never let anything happen to you. There was a sadness behind his smile, however, and she could feel that it had something to do with life at home. He and Lisa weren’t the perfect couple they wanted people to see them as.

She walked out into the living room, her phone in hand. She dropped down on the couch, tucking her legs up. She scrolled through her phone, finding the name of her best friend, Katie, and sending her a quick text to see if she could talk. They had been best friends since college, and right now, she needed to talk to her about Dean. Maybe she could give her some advice on how to stop the way she was feeling. When she got a text back saying she could talk, Y/N called her.

“Hey, sweetie” Katie greeted.

Y/N smiled, closing her eyes. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours too. Though… you do sound a bit… off” her friend’s concern was evident in her voice.

Y/N scoffed and thought about what to say. “Well, it’s been a week in a new town… and I already have a guy problem.”

“Wow, that was quick” Katie commented.

“Yeah, well…” Y/N trailed off, playing with the edge of her shirt on her knee. “I wasn’t expecting for it to happen so fast, either. Especially after Ethan.”

“Okay, what’s his name?” Katie asked.

“Dean” a smile grew on Y/N face’s as she said his name, but it quickly dropped. “But before you say anything, he’s with someone and she’s got a kid, who’s practically a son to him.”

Katie let out a whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah” Y/N agreed.

A silence fell between them, and Y/N knew that Katie was thinking.

“Well, as much as you probably don’t want to hear it, I think you got to let this one go” she said, finally.

Y/N sighed. “You’re right. I was already thinking it. I guess I just needed someone else to say to me, so I didn’t do anything stupid.”

“You’re a far more rational person than I am, so I doubt you would’ve” Katie reassured her.

Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes. “You haven’t seen what he looks like.”

“Well, photos when and if you get the chance” Katie laughed.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

They spent another half hour catching up on everything back home. It made Y/N miss everything even more, but she was glad to get the latest news. After they ended their chat, she got up from the couch when she noticed what the time was. She started fixing herself something for dinner, when she heard voices from across the street. She looked out the window, seeing people going home from Sid and Olivia’s.

Y/N watched Dean, Lisa and Ben walk back to their house. Dean and Lisa were holding hands, as Ben walked in front of them. Y/N felt her heart sink, seeing them look like a happy couple. Though it seemed that things weren’t all that great, or at least that was the impression she got from the way Dean looked at her.

Y/N shook her head and went back to making dinner. Once she was done, she settled in on the couch with her plate, a glass of wine and FRIENDS on Netflix.

It was silly of her to think that anything would ever happen with Dean. Even if he wasn’t with Lisa, she had only been around Dean twice. That wasn’t enough time to start thinking of him. This was just a crush, and it would go away soon.

Or so she hoped.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester

#Life's Lessons #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

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riversongg · 4 years ago

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Here With Me

Summary: What if Dean had never died? What if Eileen had come back? What if Sam and Dean had been allowed to visit their loved ones and grieve the ones they lost? What if they had saved Cas from the empty? What if they got to live their happily ever after? Chapter 1: exile Word Count: 1757 Read on AO3

The first day after Chuck is defeated is a good one. They’re free. They’re finally free. For the first time in years Sam feels like he can finally breathe. That first day they take some time for themselves. They sleep. A lot. They eat, drink some beer. They go for a drive and feel the breeze on their skin. Sam cries a bit too, the tears of relief escaping after holding in so much tension for so long. There had always been one thing after another. Another problem, another monster, another evil deity trying to take over the world.

So yes, for that first day, they exist and do nothing else.

On the second day they have work to do. First, Sam calls Eileen. They’d texted a whole bunch already, Sam ecstatic beyond belief that she was back, but she understood that he needed time, time to realise that everything was okay, that this new reality wasn’t going to be ripped from under him, before reaching out. But one day without seeing each other is more than enough time before they are talking face to face, Sam breaking down in sobs at only eight in the morning. She’s back.

The air feels cleaner, the weight on Sam’s shoulders lightened. It’s even easier to breathe than before. He longs to reach out and hold her in his arms, but there will be time for that. They have all the time in the world.

Day three finds them on the road. Dean driving, windows down, head rocking to the Zeppelin he has turned right the way up. Sam’s knee keeps bouncing with anticipation. Dean tells him to “Cut it out, man” a few teams before he gives up, allowing Sam this moment of excitement.

They pull over for gas around noon and that’s when Dean finds the dog. Miracle, he had called him back before the end of Chuck. Sam remembers seeing the dog when Jack brought everyone back, but seeing him again, for the third time in only a few days, it’s evident to the brothers that this dog is meant to be theirs. Miracle sits between the two of them, peering through the front window of the Impala, tongue lolling out of his mouth as they draw nearer to Eileen’s.

When Sam and Eileen reunite, Dean and Miracle wait in the car. There’s a lot of crying as Sam scoops her into his arms, lifting her up and squeezing tight. He takes in her scent, never wanting to forget the way it feels when she is with him. There’s lots of kissing too, but mostly they’re just happy to hold each other.

The weight lifts a little more, every moment he’s with her he’s a little more free.

They arrive at Jody’s the next day. As the three of them, and Miracle, pull up to the house they are greeted with love and warmth. Sam’s heart swells seeing his family alive and well. Claire has her arm around Kaia’s shoulders, Kaia giving them a little wave as they get out of the car. Patience and Alex give them bright smiles and Jody runs up to hug the two of them. When she gets to Dean Sam sees not only that she squeezes extra tight, but Dean holds onto her for a little longer too, almost reluctant to leave the hug. Donna is there too and she’s the first one to hug Eileen. She speaks to her in the little sign language she knows and Sam notices Eileen light up, her whole body becoming a little less tense.

As they make their way inside, Dean lingers behind. Sam turns to call him in but notices the sadness in his smile. Sam tells Eileen and the rest of the girls to go on in without them. Eileen smiles, understanding.

Sam goes back to his brother at the curb, patting Dean’s shoulder.

“They should be here, man,” his brother tells him, his voice quiet and tight. Sam sighs. He still doesn’t know what happened when the Empty took Cas; Dean won’t talk about that day. As for Jack? Sam knows he’s okay, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less that he will never be able to hug the kid again, never again hear his laugh or see his face light up in a smile.

“I miss them.” And that’s all there is. There’s peace, and there’s pain, and there’s a part of Sam’s family that will always be gone, but he knows more than anyone that there’s always a way to move on and be content, knowing that the pain will always be there, but one day it won’t feel so big.

They stay like that for a few moments, thinking about the ones they lost, before Sam makes his way into the house, ready to exist in the joy and laughter these wonderful women have to offer.

At some point Claire disappears, and she shows up a few hours later with an exhausted looking Dean. Cas may have been Sam’s best friend, but Claire and Dean had a connection to Cas like no one else. It was good that they talked, Sam thought. Maybe it would help them both say goodbye, knowing that they’re not so alone in their grief.

They stay at Jody’s for two days before they decide to head home to the bunker. Of course, they take a couple of detours, visiting Charlie and Garth and a few other hunter connections on the way. It’s nice spending time with their friends without the constant threat of danger around every corner. Having fun should not be a novelty, but going to the park with Garth’s kids, playing arcade games with Charlie, these are the things Sam has been missing, the things he didn’t know that he needed.

When they get back to the bunker, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as can be. Eileen stays with them for a while, her and Sam spending lots of time in his room. Dean takes Miracle on lots of walks and one day even takes Sam to a nearby lake that he likes. It has become a new favourite spot for the two of them, Dean often spending hours near the water, Miracle by his side.

Two weeks in, Dean starts eating less. It takes Sam another week to notice. Eileen has moved home by this point, though they video chat every day. Sam plans on visiting her in a week or so, but one day he notices that Miracle is asking for his daily walk and Dean is nowhere to be seen. Sam finds him in the garage, passed out in the front of the Impala, an empty bottle of whisky at his side.

He carries Dean to his bed that night, his brother too drunk to wake up as Sam hastily pulls him out of the car and into his arms, bridal style. He knows Dean would knock him senseless if he knew, but Sam didn’t care. They never talk about it. Dean wakes up the next morning, chugs a bottle of aspirin thinking Sam wouldn’t notice and gets on with his day.

A slice of toast.

A walk around the lake with Miracle.

A beer before lunch.

Not actually eating lunch and heading straight into research looking for a case.

Not finding anything.

Another bottle of whisky.

Another night in the Impala.

Sam knows then that he can’t leave Dean. He starts cooking, like, really cooking. Dean has always been the one with the culinary skills, so it takes Sam a few attempts to actually make a half decent burger, but day by day he pushes a sandwich, a salad, a bowl of cereal towards Dean and doesn’t leave him alone until his plate is completely empty.

Six weeks after Chuck, Dean stops speaking. He stops walking Miracle, stops watching movies. He eats because Sam forces him, drinks because he wants to. He does research, for what Sam doesn’t know, and sits and stares as though waiting for something to appear. Sam realises now that he had been foolish to believe that everything would be okay. Life is never that simple for the Winchesters.

Eileen decides to visit one weekend after Sam explains that he’s worried about leaving Dean alone. They’re just coming in from a date, Sam heading to the kitchen to get them some drinks when he hears it. Crying. No, sobbing. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs that ricochet throughout the bunker. Sam freezes. He has never, never, heard Dean cry like this. This is something so raw that Sam feels like he’s intruding. This isn’t something anyone should ever have to endure.

He knew Dean was not okay, but this? Sam could never have imagined to hear something like this coming from his brother, broken or not.

He makes a decision on instinct, and rushes down the hallway towards Dean’s room. The door is open and he sees Dean rocking back and forth on his bed, a pillow held tight to his face. For a second Sam thinks the crying has stopped, but then Dean lets out an abominable scream, the hair on Sam’s arms standing alert.

Sam has experience Hell and then some, but this is the worst thing he has ever heard.

He rushes forwards and reaches towards Dean. Dean jumps at Sam’s touch and starts to pull away when he realises he has been caught, but Sam climbs onto the bed behind him and pulls him tight.

“Shh,” Sam says, arms around his brother, Dean burying his face into Sam’s chest. “Let it out, Dean. Let it out.” And he does. Sam doesn’t know how long they sit there but soon Dean’s sobbing settles into steady tears and Eileen appears at Dean’s doorway, not wanting to invade.

“Whatever it is Dean, we will fix it. We will find you some help.” He strokes Dean’s back to the rhythm of his breathing, keeping him calm.

“This is the one thing that can’t be fixed,” Dean mumbles into Sam so quietly Sam barely heard him.

“What is, Dean?” he asks softly. “What can’t be fixed?”

“He’s gone,” Dean says, his voice breaking. “Cas is gone and he’s never coming back.” Dean takes in a shaky breath and holds it. Sam is afraid of what might happen when he lets it out.

It’s there, in Dean’s room, his big brother helpless in arms, the love of his life at the door that he decides it: one way or another, he’s getting Castiel back.

Read on AO3

#my writing #wizardinpyjamas #mine #deancas #destiel #fic #destiel fic #15x19 #15x19 coda #fix it fic #fix it #finale fix it #kind of #destiel fanfic #destiel fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fic; here with me

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destielhasmedead · 4 years ago

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this is the first part to a story i started - thoughts?

It had been two hours in the Impala for Cas to suddenly crack, he cleared his throat,

“Uh, Sam.”

“Yeah?” Sam turned around to see the angel. Cas made a head-nodding motion towards Dean and pointed to his ears.

“What y’all playing charades now? What is it Cas?” Dean laughed and took his eyes off the road for a minute to look at the two passengers,

“What…..”

“Dude, we’ve been listening to the same song for the past hour, and the same album for the past two, even Metallica isn’t that good,” Sam said.

“You watch your mouth Sammy, I'm the one driving here!”

“Dean, I do too thoroughly enjoy the melody, but perhaps we could hear something else?” Cas piped in from the backseat nervously. Dean moved his attention to the rearview mirror, took a good look at Castiel, then back to his brother, and with a deep sigh begrudgingly agreed. Sam grabbed something from his feet,

“An aux cord? You have to be kidding me”.

“Dean, unlike you I enjoy living in the 21st century. You should try it, upgrade from your cassette tapes.” Sam scoffed, but let out a soft chuckle.

“Fine let’s see what garbage you listen to.” Said Dean annoyed and skeptical. Cas moved eagerly towards the space between the two front seats to get a good look at all the commotion. Sam plugged the wire into his cell and proceeded to scroll through till he found the playlist he was looking for.

Sam had always been a soft rock, jazz, and even pop kind of guy. Though, he was sure to always have a playlist that wouldn’t get him kicked out onto the side of the road. Soon, Lodi by Creedence Clearwater Revival came on through the speakers. Dean's face fell flat but remained silent. They were on their way to the beach, so Sam knew he had some leeway and extra room to play with, and Dean was fully aware of the opportunities Sam had. It had been years, decades even since they had a proper visit to the beach. The only times they’ve been there was on a case. Sure, when the boys were younger John had let them stay a couple of days afterward from time to time, but even then it was stress-filled and tense.

A few songs in, Cas reached, sitting up higher, and pointed out the sign that read of the hotel they had booked. Cas had all the windows of the Impala opened, his hair flopped about as the salty air flowed around him. The hotel was located on a quiet street, just a short walk from the shore. It was nicer than the places they typically stayed at.

Sam helped his brother find a parking spot, and closed the doors almost simultaneously. Sam stayed back for a minute grabbing their bags, while Dean and Cas ventured inside. It was quaint, a typical beach hotel. Whiffs of sunblock, the squeaking of damp flip flops, bright lights, and inspirational signs filled their senses.

“Hi, we have three rooms booked.” Dean leaned on the counter and put down a credit card that wasn’t his.

“I see only two on the reservation list..” the clerk said clicking on his computer. Dean looked at Cas nervously, searching for a response to give to the man. Sam strolled in with their bags.

“What’s going on?” Sam butted in on the conversation.

“You only booked two rooms,” Dean said, glaring at his brother. Sam shrugged and turned back to the desk for answers.

“I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do, there aren’t any extra rooms”

“We could stay somewhere else..” Sam started to say but was interrupted.

“No! The reviews said this joint has great water pressure in the shower and I’m not giving that up!” Dean exclaimed passionately. Suddenly Cas cleared his throat,

“Well, I could um share a room with Dean. I don’t sleep anyway.” Cas’s face grew flushed and he shifted his weight on his feet.

“Ok, that works for me. I’m sick of sharing with you anyway, you snore real loudly.” Sam commented about Dean. Though Dean didn’t respond. His eyes had glazed over, staring at the wall deep in thought. He felt his heart in his throat as if he had been chasing a vamp. He gulped it down and felt a soft palm on his shoulder that pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Are you ok?” Cas looked him in the eyes.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine just thinking” Dean gave him a smile, and Cas’s head straightened once again out of its tilt. Both of the men were visibly flustered from the string of events that just occurred. Sam cleared his throat,

“Ok, wanna find our rooms and get some rest, I for one would appreciate getting more than four hours of sleep for once in my life.” The guys nodded, now aware of the time. Dean bunched up his sleeves till they reached his elbows, and looked at his watch. It was eleven pm, which in hindsight made sense since they had arrived when the sky was darkening.

They started towards the elevator and to the 4th floor. Dean had been iffy about not getting their usual spot in the corner on the base level. But Sam just poked fun at him saying,

“Dude quit overreacting, we aren’t on a hunt, and we’ve saved the world like 12 times. We can survive two nights in a room that doesn’t look at a parking lot.” But Dean had just rolled his eyes. Soon, he found himself following Cas into their room, and Sam walked down the other end of the hallway to his.

“Have fun you two!” Sam teased. The new roommates' faces reddened. Cas swiped the key card over the black square and pushed the door open.

“You have to be kidding me,” Dean said under his breath, yet still audible for Cas to hear. He tossed his duffel bag a few feet away from him and rubbed his hands through his hair until his nails dug into his neck. Before them, they saw a couch, a TV, other typical Hotel amenities (bathroom, mini-fridge), and one queen-sized bed. But, looking back on it, the man at the front desk hadn’t said there would be a second bed in that room.

“Dean, I don’t sleep much anyway, you have the bed and I can hang out on the couch.”

“You sure Cas?”, Cas nodded. Dean felt his eyes getting heavy, he tugged at his duffel and got out his Men Of Letters robe, Led Zeppelin T-Shirt, and his hotdog pajama pants. Meanwhile, Cas had found the TV remote and started channel surfing. He paused it on a show called Lucifer, which he had found very amusing. Dean walked back in to find Cas hunched over in front of the screen pointing at the different characters and saying how inaccurate they are.

“You having fun over there?” Dean said through a smirk as he drew the blanket toward him.

“Though it’s ridiculous, it’s also very comical!” Cas nodded to himself with a smile, maintaining his focus.

“Alright, well you two have fun, just turn the volume down a bit so I can sleep? We’ll come up with a plan for tomorrow in the morning.” Dean kindly shook his head.

“Alright goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Buddy.”

--------

chapt 2 (not completed?)

It’s 9 am and Dean awakes to Castiel pulling the curtains open, letting the effulgent sunlight bounce around the room, filling Dean’s face with the brightness. He cups his hands by his eyebrows, grabbing at the covers while doing so. Once Dean’s eyes stopped ping-ponging and the static washed over, he grumbled “good mornin.'' and tossed around the clothes in his bag till he found what he called his “summer flannel” and shorts. Cas moved out from by the windows and shuffled over to Dean’s ill-made bed and began to meticulously tidy it up.

“Alright, you ready? Sam’s meeting us downstairs for bacon. Well, he’ll probably have some fancy-schmancy healthy smoothie, but I’m having bacon.” Cas turned towards the bathroom doorway where Dean was still a few feet away from, nodded to Dean in agreement, and walked towards their room’s door.

“Wow wow wow there champ, you’re wearing that?” Dean held out his hand in a stop motion, running over to block the door from him.

“Y- Yes?” Cas replied, unsure of the question.

“Okay, I know it’s your outfit and stuff, but it's the beach! it’s hot outside!”

“But, you’re wearing your summer flannel, and this is all I have.” Cas gestured to Dean’s extra layer and then proceeded to look down at his overcoat.

“Well, that’s different.” Dean said, slightly defensive, and followed up with “We’ll ask Sam downstairs, but I for one am starving”. Dean swiveled, now facing the door holding onto the round silver knob, letting Cas walk through first.

Once the two arrive in the food court, they find Sam already set up with, as his brother had predicted, a bottled smoothie and eggs.

“Hey! Bacon’s over there, Dean.” Sam’s head tilted in the direction of the food. There were lifted metal container-looking platters lined up each with lids to keep what was inside warm. Excitedly, he grabbed a plate and piled on his food.

Castiel joined Sam at the circular table.

“So, how was last night?” Sam asked, showing genuine curiosity.

“It was fine. I did what Dean refers to as channel surfing, and I read all of the brochures on the table.”

“Oh yeah? Find anything interesting?”

“Not particularly, I saw a couple of different restaurants, there is an ice cream place down the street though.” Yes, Cas didn’t need to eat, but recently Rowena cast a spell for him so that he could at least taste it without feeling every single molecule. He hadn’t gotten around to trying Ice Cream yet though, he was still getting used to the sensations.

“What’d I miss? Oh, Sam! Cas refuses to change his clothes. The son of a bitch wouldn’t listen to me.” He had put emphasis on the word “refuses” to get his point across. Cas rolled his eyes at him, recalling the interaction and being fully aware that there hadn’t been anything he would refer to as a refusal.

“Cas only ever wears that trench coat though. And you on the other hand,” Sam turned to Dean,

“Are wearing your summer flannel which by the way does not exist.” Sam lightly laughed as Dean bites dramatically into his bacon.

“Well, this is a vacation, remember? So, if I even see your asses walking to the beach without wearing bathing suits, or at least not long sleeves, I swear I will shoot you.” He waved his fork in the air as he spoke. The men in question, who had been sitting next to each other, locked eyes. The two, without talking seemed to come to the consensus that Sam would in fact shoot them in the leg. Sam himself had been wearing dark purple swim trunks and a T-shirt. Having spent part of the night reading about the town, Cas mentioned a nearby store for him and Dean to walk down to.

#original writing #deancas fic #mine #spn #work in progress so please don't hate me #deancas #destiel

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a-sirens-melody · 4 years ago

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Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

#IT WORKS ON MOBILE #thank you god #anyways tada!!#ducktales #darkwing duck #drakepad #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #my writing #drake has t1d the fic basically #and really bad parents but that's not new

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thiscastielhasflown · 3 years ago

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day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: thunderstorms and hurt/comfort just wanting to spend some time at their local park, dean forgets to check the weather and there's a lot of rain — trust me. (1.5k)

"Can you pass me over another beer Cas?"

The sun begins to set over a Lebanon, Kansas public park during a warm summer Friday night. Families gathered around the biggest baseball diamond watching a cut-throat game between the local Little League team facing off with their out-of-town opponents. This isn't necessarily the "ideal" group of people the Winchester/Leahy family would normally associate themselves with — but puts aside their differences to become more integrated into the community they live in.

It is also used a constant schedule for all of them — no matter what happens during the week, Sam, Eileen, Dean, Cas, and Jack can meet up with each other for some well-needed family bonding time. This week is especially special, Claire and Kaia had come to spend the past couple of days at the bunker while they passed through town before going to their next hunt location. They both were more than willing to join their family at the park, even going out of their way to pack them all individual sandwiches and various other picnic foods.

Cas reaches into a cooler by the side of his chair, wiping off the now melted ice residue before handing it over, "It's root beer Dean, quit pretending that it's actual alcohol."

Dean looks down at the label and pretends to read it, but ends up laughing and leaning over to clink it against Sam's identical bottle, "You're right Cas, cheers to our night together."

Claire, Kaia, and Jack swing next to one enough on the playground adjacent to the diamond, their laughs so infectious that Cas has a hard time trying not to chuckle along while looking over to check on them. He then lets his gaze linger on Sam and Eileen sitting on a blanket on top of the grass signing to each other (from what Cas could understand, it seemed as though they were discussing updates on the game).

Ending off with Dean next to him in a matching lawn chair slumped back with his eyes droopy with sleep, Cas reaches down to grab his available hand and kisses the back of it softly. This awakens Dean right away, who instinctively moves in to place a peck against the other man's lips — quickly interrupted by the sound of fake gagging. Dean pulls away first, both looking over to see Sam and Eileen laughing in response to their faces. Dean flicks them off but Cas swats at his hand, shaking his head in embarrassment.

Soon after, Cas notices something suspicious when people in the audience begin to pick up their items and head towards their parked cars. He looks down at his watch (one given to him by Dean for their anniversary — with an inscription of "Together — We are One"), eyebrows furrowing when realizing the game has at least an hour left. Shrugging this off, Cas tells himself it must be because the team they want to win is currently losing.

"I think we need to head out soon."

Cas jumps when he hears Claire's voice ring out from behind him, "What do you mean? What's going on?"

"Look—" Claire points to the sky off in the distance, dark storm clouds rolling in with strands of rain falling from them.

"Dean, didn't you double-check the weather before we left?"

With a mouth full of root beer, Dean shakes his head and swallows, "No, I thought that was your job."

"Seems like there's a pretty bad storm headed this way," Sam speaks up while looking down at the phone in his hand, "We'd better get out of here before we're fully drenched."

Sam signs to Eileen, the both of them standing up from the blanket and folding it into a compact shape, leaning down to pick up the rest of their belongings.

"Alright—Claire, Kaia, Jack—go help pack up the car with Sam and Eileen. Dean, make sure you have everything you need and grab whatever is left. I'm going to go give the other parents a heads up in case they weren't aware."

"Cas, leave them be. Just come with us. If they haven't noticed the clouds by now, then they're out of luck."

"The kids. They're in danger if a storm like this is coming," Cas scowls at his love, "I'm not going to leave unless I go say something."

Dean grabs both of their chairs in each hand and shakes his head, "Fine, but make it fast. I may have to high-tale it out of here without you."

On cue, thunder rumbles through the park confirming the storm's true closeness, immediately halting the remaining innings of the game and causing the kids to go running for their parents.

Before Dean and Cas get the chance to argue any more about it, Sam yells out from beside their car, "Come on you two! Hurry it up!"

Dean runs off first, trying to hold up the chairs from having them brush up against the ground, making a beeline towards the trunk of the Impala parked under a large shady tree. Cas follows with a backpack slung on his back and heads directly for the passenger’s side door. Within moments of hearing the trunk door slam shut, rain droplets begin plopping onto the windshield as Dean rips open the door to the driver's side covered in tiny water patches.

The rain begins to pick up speed after another rumble of thunder and crack of lightning, causing a whimper to emanate from the back seat — its origin coming from Jack. Eileen wraps her arm around his shoulders and pulls him in close while Sam rubs at his arm to keep his mind off the sounds.

Turning the key in the ignition and flicking on his windshield wipers, Dean using one hand to reverse out of the spot before shifting quickly driving out of the parking lot. He looks up to see if Claire is following behind him and smiles to himself, as any proud father would do, before putting on his left turn signal to indicate which way she should follow.

A streak of lightning lights up the car once again and Sam leans forward from the backset whispering, "Jack is crying pretty hard back here, do you have any tissues up there with you?

Cas opens up his bag on the floor in front of him, pulling out a tiny package of tissues and a packet of gummy bears, "Give these to him too, it should help him calm down."

The farther Dean follows the main road towards the bunker, the worse the weather escalates — they pass by cars stopped at green lights, many even pulled off to the side of the road, while others still trying to trek onto their intended location. The outside world is blurred through the windows by the pouring rain, the windshield wipers unable to keep up with the pushing the water off.

"Can't you just, use your angel powers or something to stop the storm?"

"Dean, I'm not the Norse God Thor. I don't have that ability"

"Well, you're certainly no Chris Hemsworth."

Cas squints his eyes, "Excuse me?"

Dean shakes his head, "Forget about it."

"Kaia just texted me that Claire pulled into a parking lot not too far back from here, maybe we should find a place and wait this out."

Dean grips tightly onto the steering wheel, "I can get us back to the bunker Cas, nothing that a little storm can keep me from doing."

"These flooded roads keep getting worse. It would be smart to just pull over."

Suddenly, Dean hits a patch of the road with standing water causing him to momentarily lose control of the car, pumping his breaks and squealing the tires against the wet pavement.

"Pull over!" Cas yells out, flustered.

With the car finally stopped, parked on the shoulder of the road in one piece, everyone seems to let out a collective sigh of relief. Sam, Eileen, and Jack huddle into a hug, while Cas and Dean share a quick kiss in comfort for being stopped safely.

Giving each person a moment to breathe and calm down, Dean finally speaks up asking, "Anyone up for some 20 Questions?"

****

Roughly about 30 minutes later after the storm has run its course, Dean pulls back onto the road and starts heading back with minimal rain to worry about. He holds onto Cas’ hand and places it on his lap, sighing contently. After multiple games of 20 Questions, Jack had fallen asleep with his head resting on Eileen’s shoulder, now talking to Sam about a hunt she had been researching.

When Dean pulls up to the bunker, he’s shocked to see Claire and Kaia waiting there in front of the building, waving at them. Rolling down the window, he leans his head out, “How did you two manage to beat us?”

“We left just shortly before you, slowpoke. Haven’t you driven in rain like that before?”

Dean shakes his fist at Claire and laughs, “Go inside and start getting dinner ready, we’ll be in shortly.”

“Fine, dad,” she emphasizes sarcastically.

“Our children—” Dean remarks to Cas while pulling into Baby’s designated parking spot, “what would we do without them?”

Cas looks back at Jack recently awoken with messy hair and a droopy smile, “We got lucky, just like the chance of getting hit by lightning twice. Once in a lifetime chance that struck us twice.”

#j&kcreatorfest #deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #this took me longer than it really needed to #but since it is raining here today it's quite fitting #jace is typing...

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deancas-fanfiction · 3 years ago

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A Daydream Away

Chapter 1/?

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

available on ao3 Read Ch. 2 Here

“I think I found us a case,” Sam announced, entering the Dean Cave with his nose buried in his laptop.

Dean sighed in irritation, pausing the movie he and Cas were in the middle of watching. “This better be good, if you’re interrupting our movie night. You know we’re in the middle of Half Blood Prince, and Cas hasn’t seen it.”

“Metatron did upload the movie content into my –” Cas argued, but stilled at Dean’s murderous glare.

“Being told what happens and actually experiencing it are two very different things, Cas. You have to experience it firsthand.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but didn’t get the chance, as Sam interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you two done?” Sam looked at the two of them in irritation and Dean had to stifle a laugh at the almost stern expression on his face.

“Sorry, Sammy. The floor is yours. Tell us about your case.”

“Okay, so get this. There’s this resort called Grand View Lodge in Nisswa, Minnesota where couples have reportedly gone missing. In the past month, three couples have disappeared without a trace. No evidence of foul play and all of their personal belongings were left behind as were their vehicles. None of the other guests saw or heard anything.”

“That does sound suspicious,” Cas agreed. “Did the missing persons have anything in common?”

“All I can ascertain from the articles and social media posts is that the couples were very happily in love and were staying there on their honeymoon. But there isn’t a lot of information out there. I think we need to check it out, but we’ll need to pose as a couple if we want to gather information and attempt to lure whatever entity this is.”

“Go for it,” Dean shrugged. “When are you and Eileen leaving?” Dean noted the sudden look of discomfort on Sam’s face as he awkwardly shifted the laptop to his other hand.

“So that’s the thing…”

Dean groaned. “Of course. It’s never that simple.”

“Eileen is on a hunt in Ohio right now. She just got there, so she won’t be back in time.”

“What about Jody? Or Donna?”

Sam shook his head. “Neither can get off work. Claire and Kaia are both out on a hunt, too. That leaves just the three of us.”

“So…?”

“So, that means you and Cas will need to pose as newlyweds, and I can come as backup. The resort is looking for temporary help for the holiday season so I can work at the front desk and interview the employees for information, while you guys can lure the entity and interview the guests.”

Dean choked on his beer and barely managed to sputter out a response. “You want me…and Cas… to pose as a couple? Are you serious?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Me and Cas will pose as a couple then, and you can get a job there. I just thought you’d prefer not to work at a customer service desk.”

Dean felt a flash of irritation surge through him at Sam’s suggestion. The idea of Sam and Cas posing as a couple left a bitter taste in his mouth. Imagining them holding hands or having a romantic dinner just the two of them caused him to involuntarily clench his teeth and form a fist. He wasn’t jealous. No really, he wasn’t. It just – wasn’t right, okay? Sam and Cas probably wouldn’t be able to even pull off posing as a couple. So really, for the sake of the case, Dean should agree to pair up with Cas. All for the sake of the case. That’s all.

Suddenly Deans thoughts consisted of posing as a couple with Cas. Well, not just a couple, but Cas’ husband. Dean’s mouth went dry and oh. Okay. That scenario suddenly seemed a lot more pleasant. They’d have to hold hands, but really, that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe add a few lingering touches and cutesy nicknames into the mix. But that shouldn’t be too bad, he’s used to Cas being in his personal space. In fact, he’s sort of grown accustomed to it at this point. Cas has always gravitated towards Dean’s personal space. While it was a mild irritation at first, it evolved into a comfort as it was something so expected. Besides, since Cas became human with the help of Jack, they’ve spent much more time together. Movie nights were nearly a nightly occurrence at this point. Their thighs always pressed against each other as they fight over the shared bowl of popcorn. Or in the mornings, when Dean rests his hand on Cas’ lower back for balance so he can reach a mug from the top shelf. Or when Dean tries to teach Cas how to properly play pool by standing behind him, helping him aim the cue. Really, the list goes on. So, pretending to be married shouldn’t be that much different than their current dynamic.

Huh. That’s a new revelation. Before that thought can cause too much panic, he buries it deep inside and ignores the way it made his stomach swoop. “No, no. You’re right.” Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the way his voice sounded borderline frantic. “I would be a terrible employee. I would probably be fired for flirting with the guests or yelling at my boss.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, great. So, you and Cas can pose as newlyweds, just as I suggested. I’ll book the cabin and we’ll head out early in the morning.” He stomped out of the room and Dean mirrored his brother, rolling his eyes in return.

Cas wordlessly grabbed the remote and pressed play, leaning back into Dean as the movie resumed.

---

The next morning, they were on the road much too early, in both Dean and Cas' opinion. They stayed up later than was probably wise to finish their movie. Then Cas had questions, to which Dean had to patiently answer and suddenly it was nearly two in the morning. Meanwhile, Sam was bright eyed and happily sipping his thermos of coffee as he lowered himself into the Impala.

"Dean, if you wanted to keep sleeping I could --"

"Don't you dare." Dean warned. "I'm driving, now shut your mouth." He heard Sam sigh in response and turned the key, feeling the car rumble beneath him. He pulled out of the garage and turned onto the road, getting a start on the nine-hour drive to Nisswa.

The first hour of the drive was nearly silent. The radio played quietly in the background as all three occupants took the time to fully wake up. Every now and then Cas would nudge Dean's arm from the backseat, his silent way of asking for Dean's coffee. Dean would roll his eyes, but nevertheless pass him the thermos with a smile tugging at his lips.

The silence wasn't broken until Cas complained that Dean finished the coffee. This, of course, prompted into an argument over who was entitled to the last sip of the coffee, only to be broken by Sam's frustrated interjection.

"Guys. Cut it out. You can get more coffee when we stop for gas."

"Gas station coffee is not the same as bunker coffee."

"Yeah, they don't have almond milk at gas stations, Sam."

"See? Not the same." Dean chirped, enjoying teaming up with Cas against Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and changed the subject. "We should probably discuss the case in more detail before we arrive."

"What's left to discuss? Couples went missing while banging on their honeymoon. Probably a routine salt and burn of some pissed off ghost."

"Delicately put, jackass." Sam scoffed. "I was thinking, we should discuss your relationship with Cas."

"My what?" Dean's pulse quickened and he internally cursed his body for betraying him.

"Your relationship with Cas. You know, for the case. We need to come up with a back story so that way if someone asks how you met, Cas won't say 'I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.'"

"That is how we met, though." Cas insisted.

"Dude, you can't just tell people that!"

"We just need to think of a way to twist it, so it sounds normal." Sam explained. "So, for example, Dean could say he met Cas during a bad time in his life and Cas saved him."

"That's putting it lightly," Dean commented. "Cas? Does that work with you?"

"Fine."

"You're grumpy today." Dean observed, meeting Cas' eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I'm not grumpy. I'm tired. And I didn't get my full amount of coffee."

"You drank your whole thermos and half of mine. How much do you normally drink?"

"More than that."

"You have a caffeine addiction, you know that?"

"Well, at least you two already have the bickering of a married couple down." Sam half joked.

Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on the road; lips drawn into a straight line.

"What else do we need to cover?" Cas resigned, breaking the silence that once again settled over the car.

"Length of relationship."

"Ten years." Cas answered easily.

Sam pursed his lips. "Why don't we say you've been together for 5 years, and friends for the first 5. That will make you fit the same profile as the other missing couples a little more closely."

"Jesus, Sam. We'll be fine, we've been in situations like this before."

"I just don't want your cover blown. We have no one else to fill in. We need to discuss what your wedding was like, who proposed, how long you were engaged --"

Dean cut him off with a sharp look. "The wedding was small, just close family and friends. No one proposed, we both talked about it and together we agreed to get married. The engagement was short, less than a year. How's that for our cover?"

"That's great. Cas, did you get all that?"

"Yes. Can we stop and get more coffee now?"

"I thought gas station coffee wasn't good enough for you?"

"It's not. There's a Starbucks at this next exit. I saw a sign."

"Cas, we're not even halfway there yet. Dean's not going to stop yet."

But sure enough, Dean was already turning towards the exit, cataloguing the way Cas' lips turned up at the corner.

The remaining hours of the trip passed rather quickly. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to his Zeppelin tape, Sam read lore in preparation of the case, and Cas happily watched the passing snow-clad landscape while sipping on his venti coffee.

As they neared the town of Nisswa, the scenery gave way from a frozen landscape with nothing but bare trees and the occasional truck stop to boutique shops, rustic restaurants, and log-cabin-like structures that served as hotels and cafes. As they neared their turn off the highway, Sam requested to be dropped off in town so he could secure a car rental and check into his own hotel. Sam would be interviewing for the seasonal front desk position early the next morning, so he couldn't be seen arriving with Dean and Cas.

"Oh! Before I forget --" Sam paused after stepping out of the Impala and dug around in his bag. He retrieved two gold bands and handed one to Dean and Cas. "Your wedding rings."

Dean slipped his on and scowled at his brother. "Where did you get these?"

"A pawn shop," Sam said sheepishly. "I grabbed them when I went out on a supply run last night. Don't lose them - I'm pretty sure they're actually gold."

"It's probably a knock off and will turn our fingers green."

"No, Sam is right," Cas observed. He held the ring close to his face, carefully scrutinizing it. "It's 24k gold. It's actually quite good quality."

"Thank you, Cas." Sam said pointedly. "You two better get going and check in. I made your reservation under "Smith." I'll be at the resort tomorrow morning for my interview. I made a very persuasive resume so I should be hired no problem. Just keep your phones on you and check in with me occasionally, yeah?"

"I know how to do my job, Sam. Cas and I will get settled in then we'll talk to some of the guests at breakfast tomorrow morning. Don't worry about us. Worry about your interview," Dean said with a wink. "Cas, you've been upgraded to shotgun, let's go."

With that, Sam stepped away from the car, making room for Cas to climb in. "Be careful, guys."

"Yeah, you too," Dean replied. Cas then shut the door and Dean pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "You ready for this?"

Cas nodded, fidgeting with the gold band on his finger. "We met 10 years ago and started dating 5 years ago. A few months ago, we decided to get married and we had a small wedding with our closest family and friends. Now we're on our honeymoon."

"Yeah, that - that's good."

Dean cautiously glanced over at Cas. His hair was tousled from leaning against the window, with the left side matted down and the right side sticking straight out. He had an air of contentment radiating from him, no doubt from the dangerously high levels of caffeine racing through him. Since becoming human, Cas formed a very dependent relationship with both coffee and sleep. Sleeping became his favorite pastime as he was finally able to experience dreams. However, that meant he would often sleep for the better part of the morning, only begrudgingly getting out of bed when Dean would pound on his door to inform him breakfast, and more importantly coffee, was ready. Even then, Cas would be grumpy until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee.

Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he always enjoyed his morning routine with Cas. Cas would silently sit at the table, watching Dean dish up breakfast. Dean would slide a fully loaded plate of eggs and bacon towards him and watch as he took his first bite. Cas would always groan in appreciation (which okay, maybe Dean enjoyed that part a little too much, but he would never admit to that either) and then Dean would refill Cas's mug. At that point Sam would enter the kitchen, just back from his run and openly making a disgusted face at the heaping pile of bacon on Dean's plate. Ignoring him, Dean would sit next to Cas, and Cas would scoot closer to Dean, soaking in his body heat due to the endless cold draft in the bunker. That's the only reason Dean would lean back into him. No other reason, whatsoever, regardless of the knowing look on Sam's face.

Dean ended his train of thought there and signaled for the coming turn which featured a large stone sign with "Grand View Lodge" neatly printed on it. The road was illuminated by string lights and lanterns along it and Dean could see cabins in the trees along the road, with warm yellow lights illuminating the darkness around them. The Impala's headlights shone on a sign directing them towards the main lodge for check-in. The resort grounds seemed beautiful and very quiet. Dean could understand why it was a popular destination for newlyweds. The cold winter air made the glowing cabins seem all the cozier. He could imagine the resort in the summer, filled with families and children running towards the lake with sunscreen and beach towels in tow. It would be quite the opposite than it is now, in mid-December with below zero temps and not a single person in sight.

The first sign of life they saw was the dozen cars parked outside of the main lodge for check in, otherwise no one was out of their cabins. "It's going to be hard to talk to the guests when it's this cold. No one will want to leave their cabin." Dean frowned.

"Sam said there's an optional itinerary over the weekend for all of the guests. We'll have to sign up for some activities so we can interview them."

Dean sighed. "As long as it involves free food, I'm in." He put the car in park and traded the warmth for the frigid cold. It was a sharp cold that hurts your lungs as you breathe it in. It was the kind of cold that you don't spend time in unless you have to. Dean pulled the jacket tight against him and motioned for Cas to follow him inside.

The main lodge was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The interior was covered in dark wood, with large leather couches set in front of a roaring stone fireplace. A small gift shop was off to the side and there were large rustic chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Dean could hear silverware clattering and subdued conversation which hinted to the presence of a restaurant down the hall. The front desk was near the doors and they quickly approached to check in.

"Good evening," The receptionist beamed. Her name tag identified her as Brenda. "Welcome to Grand View Lodge. Have either of you stayed with us before?"

"No, Ma'am," Dean responded, leaning against the desk.

"Well, welcome!" She said cheerfully. Dean could already anticipate that she and Sam will get along perfectly once he’s hired. "Here's a map of the resort grounds for your reference. It shows all of our cabins and the four restaurants we have on site. You can dine in or order room service. All of that information is on the back of the map. Now, can I get the name your reservation is under?"

"Dean Smith."

Brenda typed in the name and clicked a few times then looked up at Dean and Cas grinning. "You should have mentioned you were on your Honeymoon! Congratulations, love birds!" Dean felt his face heat up and avoided eye contact with Cas. 'Minnesota Nice' was very real and it was making Dean very uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Dean choked out. "Could we get our keys now? We just had a really long drive and we're tired."

"Oh, of course! I don't want to delay your honeymoon activities," she stated not-so-subtly. She opened a drawer and handed Dean two key cards. Then she grabbed their resort map and circled their cabin number.

"Do you have a list of activities you offer?" Cas questioned.

"Oh! Yes! This weekend we offer both wine and bourbon tasting, depending on your preferences. We also offer couples' cooking classes, and our spa is open for couples' massages. I see you’re staying for a week so here's a pamphlet of all the activities we're offering this month," She explained as she handed over a brochure. "We also have an ice rink which is open until 8pm and free to all guests."

Cas opened his mouth to assumingely ask a question that would only drag out the check-in process, so Dean interrupted him.

"Great, thank you. We appreciate your help," He then grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him back into the cold.

"She seemed nice," Cas observed.

"Too chipper. Sam will love her."

Cas laughed at that. It was the kind of laugh that shows his perfectly white teeth and makes his eyes slightly crinkle. It was the kind of laugh that was Dean's absolute favorite.

Dean glanced at the map, noting where to drive to get to their cabin. It appeared to be a short drive from the main lodge. He started the car and turned back onto the gravel road they entered on. Following the signs, they were led along a winding road towards the south end of the grounds, where the now frozen lake is located. The trees were dense, and the cabins were growing sparser as they continued along the road. At last, they pulled up to a quaint log cabin that matched the number on their keys. The cabin had large windows and a wrap-around porch that would be perfect to utilize in the summer and fall. The porch light was on, illuminating the front yard which was littered with large pine trees.

He put the Impala in park, and they grabbed their bags out of the backseat. The night was still and silent. There were no lights except for those on the porch. A large expanse of stars and sky nearly took Dean’s breath away. Growing up, Dean would always take solace in the night sky littered with millions of stars. With the ever-constant change of living on the road, the stars were always there. When John would drink too much or be gone too long on a hunt thereby forcing Dean to parent Sam, he would step outside of their usual run-down motel and take a deep breath, taking in the stars. As they got older and Sam’s nerd tendencies began to develop, he would tell Dean all about the constellation. They’d sit on the sidewalk with their backs against the brick motel and Sam would just talk. He’d point out the shapes in the stars and talk about the history and the namesakes behind each one. It was a most welcoming distraction from the constant shit in Dean’s life.

Even now, as he looks up at the brilliant set of stars unhindered by city lights, Dean can’t help but feel grateful for where his life is. Sure, his kid is basically God. And he’s helplessly in love with his best friend who was an angel but is now a human and probably doesn’t feel the same way about him and now he has to pretend to be his husband at a romantic resort, which can only go poorly. Then there’s the fact that his mom was dead, then she was alive, and then she was dead again. Really, just piles and piles of trauma that he’s had to deal with. But God, Dean still feels lucky. Because he has a family. He has Sam, Cas, Jack, Eileen, Jody and the girls. During those years growing up he always assumed he’d be dead before living a life like this.

A gust of wind whips across the yard, stinging all exposed skin which pulls Dean out of his spiraling thoughts. Cas is mirroring Dean from moments ago, also gazing up at the night sky. “I’ve been alive for so long yet the beauty and wonders of this life will never cease to amaze me.” Cas simply states, as if that wasn’t the most poetic shit to ever come out of someone’s mouth.

At a loss for words, Dean clasps Cas’ shoulder and leads him through the snow and into the cabin. He unlocks the door and welcomes the immediate warmth radiating from inside the cabin. The cabin is incredibly cozy. The walls are a dark wood, with leather sofas next to a large electric fireplace and a big fluffy rug. The kitchen is off of the living room, which on a normal occasion would be perfect to cook some proper meals. Then there is a beautiful wooden table in the dining room with dim lighting that would be perfect for a romantic meal. Dean cut off that dangerous train of thought before it went anywhere that made this situation even more complicated.

Speaking of complicated, Cas was no longer by Dean’s side. Frowning, he walked down the hallway that led towards the bathroom and bedroom. It was in the bedroom that he found Cas hovering in the doorway and oh.

Oh.

There was a king size bed in the center of the room with rose petals scattered over it. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne rested in the center of the bed with a box of chocolate next to it.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Cas looked at Dean questioningly. “Who?”

“Sam. He told them it was our honeymoon! Then this happened.” He gestured at the array of items in the room.

“I see no problem with this behavior. They needed to know we were on our honeymoon for the sake of the case. And we got free champagne and sweets. Usually, you’re all about the free stuff.”

Dean sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just – never mind. It’s late and I’ve been driving all day. Guess I’m tired.” Cas just nodded and set his bag down. “So, uh –” Dean started, rubbing his hand over his face. “Want me to take the couch tonight? We can switch off every night or something.”

“Dean,” He sighed. ”You said yourself that you’re getting too old to be sleeping on couches and pull outs. Hence, the memory foam in the bunker. Besides, we’re playing the role of a newlywed couple this weekend. We should probably keep up with appearances and not make it seem like we’re already sleeping in separate beds like unhappy middle-aged couples who are too stubborn to admit they need a divorce.”

Dean barked out a surprised laugh. He loves when Cas goes on his weird tangents. “Yeah, okay Cas. That bed is huge, so it shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

Cas just nodded and began digging around in his duffel bag. Meanwhile, Dean removed the ice bucket with champagne from the bed and set it on the dresser. Then he brushed off as many rose petals as he could, determined to clear the bed of any romantic connotation. When he was satisfied, he began stripping out of his jeans and flannel. It was a long day of driving and his body was no longer accustomed to sitting for so long, so he was ready for bed at this point.

Dean stopped mid-action, catching sight of Cas doing the same. Cas removed his jeans and then lifted his shirt over his head. Dean swallowed, trying to

tear his eyes away from his best friend’s body but holy shit – Cas is toned. As he bent over to put his discarded clothes back in his bag, the muscles in his back and legs jumped out. His golden skin was completely on display and as a result Dean’s brain was short circuiting. Panicking, he grabbed his toothbrush and locked himself in the bathroom as an attempt to get his breathing and body back under control.

So much for uncomplicated.

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #deancas #deancas fanfic #fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural #fake relationship #team free will #destiel fluff #eventual smut

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 4 years ago

Text

My heart

A surprise in this one, although the header picture gives it away! Its a long one

Warnings: SVU crimes, hostage situation, hurt detectives, medical stuff, nightmares and shock.

Enjoy x

"Come on now, you need to put the gun down. If you shoot me you'll get life. Let us go, my partner needs help he is bleeding out. Come on -you don't want it to end like this"

*BANG*

The day started just like any other, you and Rafael taking far too long to get out of bed because he wouldn't stop putting his hand up your pj shirt.

"Come to me at lunch" he was kissing you up your neck and had his hand up your shirt running his pointer finger along the base of your breasts,

"I'll see what I can do Rafi, but right now we are going to be late"

Showering and dressing for work. You walked into the bullpen to find everyone already at their desks,

"Morning Sonny"

"Morning Y/N"

"Hey Fin, Hey Amanda"

"Morning"

Liv came rushing out of her office,

"We have a situation. Get your vests I'll fill you in, in the car"

A young women game creator had been kid napped and was being held hostage. She had been sexually and physically assaulted all being live streamed. You all made your way over to an old ware house where TARU traced the live streaming. The building was surrounded. Fin and Amanda found her tided up on a lower level while you and Sonny headed up to the roof with your weapons drawn. A helicopter hovering over spotted the 2 preps on the roof both armed.

Rafael was in his office, he couldn't concentrate on work. He couldn't get you out of his mind. He had always thought in his past relationships he was happy till he wasn't. But he was wrong none of them were happy. But with you he was so happy, he didn't need to kid himself. Everything you guys had was everything he had ever wanted. He wanted nothing more than to get you into his office that lunch time and show you how much he loved you. He picked up his phone and opened it to message you:

10.40 am- Rafael: Have lunch with me Hermosa, I need to see you xx

Just as he put down his phone Carmen came rushing in not even knocking,

"Mr Barba" she ran over to the TV and turned it on.

"We are crossing over live to the scene unfolding right now. We have been informed that two armed men are holding two SVU Detectives at gun point"

It then crossed over to a picture of the roof top, Sonny and You both on your knees with your arms up in the air with two men standing in front you both, pointing their weapons at you and them wearing your bullet proof vests. All colour drained from his face. Without a word he jumped up grabbing his jacket and phone and ran out not saying a word to Carmen who was holding back tears herself.

Sonny was laying on the floor, blood rushing out of his forehead. The main perp had pistol whipped him so hard that it knocked him out when he was trying to talk them both down when they took your vests and guns. EMT rushed in as soon as Fin gave the all clear after he shot one prep in the leg and the other surrender. Amanda rushed over to you and picked you up off the ground pulling you into her arms.

"Aman- I ca-" you tried to get your breath but you just couldn't, you grabbed onto her arm so tight she thought you would leave bruises. You felt like you were drowning.

"I need help over here NOW" Amanda screamed

Sonny was on the stretcher and his head bleed under control but still unconscious. Another EMT unit came rushing in with oxygen, and slung the mask onto your face. They sat you down on the stretcher in case you passed out.

"Is she going to be ok?" Amanda was nervous, she was sitting beside you trying to keep you sitting up while the EMT looked over you.

"Yeah she is in shock, her blood pressure and oxygen are dropping" one of the EMT's answered back.

You were light headed from the lack of oxygen, you lent your head on Amamda's shoulder, grabbed her hand and closed your eyes.

"I'm going to lay her down, she needs fluids" another EMT informed Amanda.

----

"Liv, why didn't you call me" Rafael ran up to her.

"Rafa, I'm sorry, I just, I didn't think. Everything happened so fast"

Just then Sonny was rushed down into the back of the ambulance. Not even asking for permission, Rafael ran towards the building,

"BARBA STOP"

He didn't listen he just kept going making his way up to the roof, he wasn’t sure what he was going to be walking into, but that didn't stop him. As he got to the roof top he didn't even stop to take a breath. He came rushing through the doors to see you grabbing onto Amanda's hand while the EMT's were putting a drip in. Amanda noticed him out if the corner of her eye and turned to face him.

"Barba, what are you doing up here? It's a crime sence you need go"

"I'm not leaving Rollins" and he rushed over

"What happened? Is she ok?"

"She is in shock"

Amanda let go of your hand and Rafael moved into her place grabbing your hand and running his other in your hair.

"Rafi" you smiled up at him

"We have stabilised her but she needs to be monitored, we will be taking her in"

"I'll ride with her" Amanda nodded at him

----

You opened your eyes and the light hit you,

"You’re awake" Rafael was standing over you, "I'll get a nurse"

"Your blood pressure is back to normal, and your oxygen levels have gone up. I would still like to keep you here for another couple of hours"

"Thanks you Doctor" Rafael answered back as the door walked out of the room.

"Rafi, where is Sonny?"

"He is been moved to a ward, they are keeping him over night. His concussion was bad, he needed a few stitches"

"But he is ok?" your eyes filled with tears.

"Yes mi Hermosa. He is fine" Rafael kissed your cheek as the door to your room opened again.

"Y/N" Liv, Amanda and Fin came walking in.

"You’re awake" Amanda lent down and hugged you, followed by Liv.

"Fin, I want to thank you. You saved my life" you grabbed his hand.

"No drama, just another day at the office" you all laughed.

"No Fin, seriously, thank you" Rafael held out his hand and shook Fin's.

"Take tomorrow off Y/N. It's been a hard day" Liv looked down at you with a half smile.

"No I'll be fine" you gave a small smile back.

"No Hermosa, Liv is right, take tomorrow off and go back next week"

4 hours later you were discharged. Rafael wanted to take you straight home but you wanted to see Sonny before you left.

You walked into his room and his eyes were closed. His forehead was swollen and bandaged up. Rafael stayed at the door and watched. You walked over to Sonny taking his hand into yours and held it. He opened his eyes and let his eyes adjust.

"Hey Y/N" he gave you his big smile.

"You OK Sonny?" a tear fell down your cheek.

"Better now I've seen you’re OK" he pulled you in and you hugged him back.

****

"Y/N, Y/N, its OK, it's just a dream, its OK sshh I'm here"

You were sobbing into Rafael's neck. You had a horrible nightmare.

"OH Rafi, it was horrible. Why would I be having nightmares? I didn't after Lewis"

"It was a different thing Hermosa. Just remembering the photo that was on the news makes me feel sick. But it's OK I'm here. I'll keep you safe"

****

Rafael had gone out to get some lunch, and you had just put some clothes away when your phone started to ring,

"Hey Nick, I miss you"

"Hey Y/N, I miss you too. How are you feeling?"

"I'm OK, the nightmares have started though"

*Knock Knock Knock*

"Hang on a second, I have to get the door" Nick stayed quite on the other end of the phone, you walked to the door and opened it

"OH MY GOD NICK" you squealed and jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted you up off the floor and spun you around. Tears fell from your eyes. He put you down and put his hands on your shoulders.

"What are you doing here?"

"Barba called me and told me you needed your best friend. I got on the first flight"

He pulled you in and kissed you on top of the head.

"How long are you here for?"

"Just the weekend. Barba told me you go back to work on Monday, so I fly out Sunday night"

"I've missed you so much Nick"

"I've missed you too. Zara wasn't happy that I came without her, but Maria took her to her parents this weekend"

"Oh I miss my girl"

"She misses her Tia too. So are you going to keep me in the hall or let me come in?" He laughed, you grabbed his hand and pulled him inside towards the kitchen.

"Barba's not back yet? Hope he gets my order right" Nick scoffed.

You turned on the jug, and spun and raised your eye brows at him.

"You two actually planned this together?"

"Hard to believe right" he laughed hard

"Where are you staying?"

"Here. Barba said you had an air mattress"

"Really? Wow"

Just then Rafael walked through the door and rounded the corner with two brown paper bags.

"Amaro, how was your flight?" Rafael gave Nick a half smile.

You rushed over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"Yuck" Nick spat out with a laugh and you pulled away with reddened cheeks, Rafael had a pleasantly stunned look on his face.

"Thanks you Rafi, for organising this. You knew just what my heart needed" he winked back at you.

The weekend went by fast. Rafael asked for the same days off so he could be there for you. Nick wanted to go and see Sonny. You guys managed to catch him just before he was sent home.

"Jeez Y/N, I get one knock to the head and you bring your old partner back" you giggled at Sonny and wrapped your arm around his middle.

"Never Sonny, I don't want him back, your a better cook" you stuck you tongue out at Nick, him laughing back at you.

You guys had a video call with Zara and she made Rafael promise to bring you for a visit. One night over dinner you spoke to Rafael and Nick honestly about how you were feeling after having another horrible nightmare the night before. You ended up in tears with Nick squeezing your hand tight and then Rafael pulling you into him and kissing you all over your face kissing away the tears.

Next thing the weekend was over and Nick had left. It was a tearful good bye from both of you,

"You call me if you need me, any time" he kissed your forehead, tears running down his cheeks.

"I always need you Nick. Thank you for being here for me" you hugged him tight leaving tears on his shirt.

----

You were in the study letting the air mattress down and tidying up. Rafael was standing at the door watching you. You had got frustrated because of how slow the air was coming out, so you laid on it, which made him burst laughing.

"Rafi, how long had you been standing there?" You frown up at him.

"Long enough" he smirked at you.

Once the mattress was down, he pulled you up to standing and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"Do you think you’re ready to go back to work?"

"I think so" you paused "nothing happened to me. I wasn't hurt"

"Physically" he ran his thumb over one side of your cheek

"Talking to you and Nick last night helped a lot Rafi, I didn't have a nightmare last night" he huffed at you.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive Rafi....I want to thank you for everything you have done for me over the last couple of days. Organising Nick to come, I know it must have been hard for you to find out what happened on the news. But you have done nothing but take care of me. I love you, thank you so much"

"Your my whole heart Hermosa, I love you more than anything, I would do anything for you"

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destielreboot · 4 years ago

Text

Something Worth Celebrating

Summary: Dean’s tired of Cas not understanding his not-so-subtle hints that he’s in love with him, so panics his way through using a movie to make his point clear, as if that makes any more sense.

Words: ~3.8k

Read on AO3

Dean never really celebrated his birthday, not in any way that mattered. It was a date that marked him maybe surviving another year, and he figured it couldn’t be all that accurate a marker anymore given that he’d died so many times. Was he supposed to subtract the four months in Hell? Was his birthday now after Sam’s? None of it mattered much, and he was not about to accidentally jinx himself or something by celebrating an arbitrary day. Instead, he grumbled all the way home about the snow and salted roads being bad for Baby, then immediately went to his room and started flipping through his movie collection with the hope a new case wouldn’t come in for at least a few hours.

“Dean?” Cas knocked once and swung the door halfway open. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find something to watch. I figure I deserve a bit of R&R after the week we’ve had.”

“Of course. Ghouls are never particularly pleasant, although the hunt went well, all things considered.”

“Hell of a lot better than the last one. You stickin’ around for a while?”

“I have no plans to leave.”

Dean looked back down at the drawer full of DVDs and smiled softly. “Good. It’s nice to have you here.”

“Dean? Can I… watch the movie with you?”

“Uh, yeah, as you wish.”

Dean’s hands shook slightly as he picked up a DVD case. It was dumb—so recklessly stupid—and if it didn’t work out, he’d have to live with that, but Cas hadn’t said a word about the mixtape. Not a damn thing about something he’d spent hours anxiously perfecting. Odds were good this would go over his head as well, but hey, at least they were spending time together. And not even Cas would leave during a movie unless there was an emergency, right?

“What are we watching?” Cas timidly sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, the usual comfort level gone as this was Dean’s space, and Cas had become nothing if not respectful of that boundary.

“A classic from my childhood.”

“It’s designed for children?” Cas narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“No, it’s—it’s about… pirates and thieves, sacrifice, rewriting destiny—” The words slipped out of their own volition, as they weren’t quite true, but then again, Dean wasn’t solely focused on the plot of the film. “Um, it’s about overcoming evil forces, fighting for those you care about, and outsmarting the enemy.”

“No cowboys?”

“No cowboys,” Dean chuckled as he put The Princess Bride into the DVD player. He plopped down onto the bed and kicked his feet up, instinctively patting the place next to him so Cas wouldn’t stay perched on the edge. “Settle in, I think you’re gonna like this one.”

Cas inched closer, far too conscious of Dean’s repeated complaints about lack of personal space to get close, but he let himself relax slightly as the movie started.

“This time period is inconsistent with most pirate-centric media. Dean, what does this ill child have to do with the plot you described?”

“Shh, just watch.”

Cas begrudgingly obliged, although biting his tongue was never his strong suit. He’d joined Dean for enough movie nights to know his questions would not be answered, and silence was the preferred initial viewing state—aside from laughter, that is; the uproarious joy that bellowed from his best friend never failed to elicit a smile from the angel.

The first few times he heard Westley say “As you wish” seemed inconsequential, as Dean had been incessantly quoting movies at him for years, and it wasn’t difficult to see why he would relate to this roguish character. He was vaguely aware of Dean glancing back and forth between him and the screen, no doubt to make sure he was paying attention, a task that would be much easier if he didn’t feel Dean’s eyes on him quite so often.

For the most part, Cas did well at keeping quiet, though certain absurdities in the movie had him itching to ask questions.

“What is the point of her throwing herself down this hill? I understand that it’s too steep for comfortable walking, but there has to be a more convenient way to reach the bottom.”

“I guess it’s supposed to be sort of romantic?” Dean shrugged. “She’s just been reunited with Westley after believing he’d died; she doesn’t want to waste time getting to him.”

“Hmm.” Cas looked pensively at Dean for a moment, then turned back to the tv with a hint of a smile.

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while,” Westley declared.

“Do you believe in the existence of true love, Dean?” Cas asked innocently.

“I—uh—um—I’m gonna go grab a drink,” Dean stammered. He did his best to nonchalantly leave the room, an action made far more difficult by his pounding heart. Once safely in the hallway, his pace quickened dramatically. If he was going to have a panic attack, it’d be away from prying eyes. Jack may have been at Jody and Donna’s, but Sam was home—he couldn’t see him like this. Diverting his path, he headed for the Dean Cave instead and sunk into one of the recliners.

He knew it was stupid to be panicking over something so small, but this was the closest he’d ever come to outright stating how he felt, and it was scary, goddammit. Growing up, he would’ve been beaten for even entertaining the idea—John didn’t raise no goddamn fruit—and that intense unease had settled itself into his very being, become a core tenet of his identity. Undoing several decades of damage was more difficult than he’d ever imagined, but fucking hell, he wanted to try.

It took longer than he’d hoped for his breathing to return to normal, which amped up the fear that Cas would come looking for him, and he realized on his way to the kitchen that he’d probably need an excuse. He grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge—maybe Cas would drink one, maybe Dean would end up chugging both—and turned to go back before thinking better of it. He pulled some popcorn out of the pantry and tossed it in the microwave, hoping Cas wouldn’t know how quickly it cooked. Once it was done, Dean took a few deep breaths to steady himself, dumped the popcorn into a bowl, and walked as calmly as possible back to his room.

Coming back with a snack seemed to somewhat assuage Cas’s concern for Dean having been gone so long, but Dean could tell he would be asked about it later.

“You missed the Fire Swamp and something called the Pit of Despair? I can’t find much validity in the mechanics of the machine, although the concept is interesting. Taking time off the end of life, which is by its very nature uncertain, rather than reducing to a set number of years.”

“Try not to think about it too hard.” Dean smirked, holding out the second beer as he settled in. Cas habitually accepted the offer, even though everything tasted like molecules. He didn’t mind too much; partaking always seemed to make Dean happy, a sight Cas didn’t see nearly enough.

“I agree with the pestering child on this one, killing off the hero of the story this early makes no sense. Unless, of course, they live in a world like ours? Is there someone who can return his soul to his physical form, as I did with you?”

Dean choked on the handful of popcorn he’d just stuffed in his mouth. Cas looked on, worried, as Dean coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Uh, no, nothing like that… They’ll, uh, they’ll explain it.”

“Hmm. Are you alright, Dean? You seem… preoccupied.”

“What? I’m fine.” He picked up the bowl and held it out. “Popcorn?”

“Dean.” Cas took it from him and set it further down the bed as he pivoted to face Dean, sliding a bent leg across the blanket between them.

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes. “I said I’m fine, Cas. You’re missing Billy Crystal.”

“We could pause the movie, if you’d like. Ordinarily I wouldn’t push—”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, sure. Can we just… not do this right now?” He raised his hands in resignation and let them drop without looking, one landing on the outside of his left thigh, the other on Cas’s knee.

Dean immediately felt heat rush to his cheeks as they stared at each other, unmoving, for an undetermined amount of time. He was vaguely aware of the Miracle Max scene happening in the background, containing yet another discussion of true love, and he prayed Cas wasn’t paying attention. This had to happen now?

“Dean?” Cas asked softly, finally breaking the silence enveloping them despite the continuing movie, which was obviously oblivious to the quiet scene of bi panic unfolding in front of the screen. “You seem uncomfortable and in distress. Can I—”

“I’m fine!” Dean responded a little too loudly, too quickly. He jerked his hand back, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fist, his thumb rubbing over his fingertips, as if trying to force the feeling of touching Cas’s knee into his memory.

Cas continued to fix him with that concerned gaze he was all too familiar with, so he downed the rest of his beer as a distraction. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Cas run his own fingers over his leg exactly where Dean’s hand had been, but surely it was out of discomfort, right? Friendly pats on the back and occasionally the knee were common enough, but accidental lingering touches? Not so much.

“I need a refill. You?” Dean asked, although he didn’t wait for an answer, once again quickly making his way down the hall.

“Dude, are you okay?”

Dean just about dropped his empty bottle, having not noticed Sam seated at the kitchen table with some sort of preposterously healthy grain bowl in front of him.

“Will everyone stop asking me that?” he huffed, his free hand on his chest. “I’m fine.” He set the bottle on the island and pulled the fridge open. They were down to their last few beers, and, simultaneously thinking too much and not enough, Dean turned around to search for something stronger instead.

“Don’t bullshit me.” Sam gave Dean his best bitch face—probably the best he’d seen in years—and stood, crossing his arms. “Is this about what happened with the ghoul? Because there’s no way we could’ve—”

“Yep, that’s it. Congrats, Dr. Phil, you’ve done whatever psych crap and managed to cure me. How on earth do you do it?”

“Dean.” Sam followed him out of the kitchen and back toward the library, where they’d most recently stashed their rolling booze cart—yet another feature of the bunker Dean still couldn’t quite wrap his head around, although he had to admit it was rather nice.

“Don’t ‘Dean’ me, I’m fine. It’s been a long week, cut me some slack.” He unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle and poured a generous amount into a glass. Sam shot him another exasperated look. Dean sarcastically saluted as he backed out of the library.

He stopped just outside his door and took a quiet breath, releasing slowly, urging the tension in his chest out with it. He glanced in and couldn’t help but soften at the view in front of him: Cas was engrossed in the wedding scene, albeit a bit confused by the clergyman. Dean watched him take a drink of his beer and wince, an instinct he almost always suppressed around others.

Once Inigo, Fezzik, and Westley were back on screen, Dean sauntered back in. Cas immediately turned and smiled at him, but his brow furrowed at the sight of the whiskey glass. Dean shrugged and took a sip, savoring the slight burn and the slow spreading warmth. He flashed Cas a reassuring grin as he sat down on his side of the bed.

Everything was fine, it had to be. Besides, Cas had definitely missed some important dialogue, so all Dean had to do was get through the end of the movie and shrug all his anxious behavior off as lingering effects of the hunt; there was a good chance Cas wouldn’t believe him, but if he got adamant enough, he’d be left alone. Not that alone was what he really wanted, but it was better than rejected or ridiculed, and he was far too accustomed to being by himself—yet another thing to thank his father for.

They got through the rest of the movie without another incident, even if the silence was a tad tense. As the credits rolled, Dean glanced over and noticed Cas was frowning.

“So… uh, did you… did you like the movie?”

“I still have many questions that have gone unanswered. Or, rather, we were otherwise occupied while they were explained, I suppose.”

“We did, uh, miss a few things.”

“Also, I’m no expert on the matter, but I’m old enough to know with relative certainty that there have been kisses more ‘passionate and pure’ than that one. I assume this particular kiss isn’t leading to the consummation of their relationship, as carnal desire would prevent it from being pure, I suppose, but I’m afraid I cannot agree with the story’s assessment.”

“The slow-burn romance wasn’t drawn out enough for you, huh?” Dean laughed.

“She only believed him dead twice, Dean. I think our own experiences have reduced the impact of that. Besides, their relationship required more exposition. With what we were given, you can’t expect me to be truly invested.”

“Maybe she should’ve died at least once, just to shake it up a bit.”

“My sentiments exactly. Westley cannot understand the same levels of grief without experiencing it firsthand, and it’s always more interesting to allow characters beyond just the hero the chance to die. Imagine how monotonous our lives would be if we only consistently lost one of us.”

Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a goofy smile plastered on his face. His shoulders shook as he laughed, the bed eventually shuddering along with the movement.

“I don’t understand what’s so funny, Dean.”

“It’s just… Our lives are so ridiculous. No one else watches this and thinks it’s not realistic enough because only Westley dies and gets resurrected.”

“I’m aware it’s outside of the usual human experience, of course, but I also can’t help but—” He paused, eyes widening slightly. “Never mind.”

“C’mon, Cas, you know you can’t do that! Say it.”

“I’d really prefer keeping it to myself, thank you.”

“Cas, dude, just say it.”

“You won’t let this go, will you?”

“You know I won’t.” Dean smirked.

“Fine,” Cas sighed. “I can’t help but see similarities between the characters and, well, our family.”

“Oh, of course, I project us onto characters all the time! I’m Westley, right?”

“Buttercup, actually.”

“I—” The smile slipped from Dean’s face. “You see me as the princess? Why?”

“You’re both stubborn and remarkably willing to sacrifice yourself for those you love.”

“You know, I did not show you this movie just so you could turn around and attack me,” Dean grumbled, but he flashed Cas a small smile so he wouldn’t take the complaint too seriously.

“I feel it’s a proper evaluation of your character.” Cas shrugged and grinned back.

“Does that make you Westley, then?”

It took Dean approximately two seconds after the words left his mouth to process what he’d said, fear twisting his stomach into knots as he realized the implications of it. Cas, on the other hand, chuckled quietly and looked down at his beer bottle.

“I suppose Westley saving Buttercup from the quicksand does mirror me pulling you out of Hell, at least a bit.”

“Lightning sand. Way cooler than quicksand,” Dean corrected, latching on to anything that would distract from his question.

“Ah, yes. Lightning sand. It’s no match for Hell, but I don’t need to tell you that.”

“Yeah… Hey, I don’t think I’m ready to turn in for the night yet, would you want to watch something else? You can pick, if you’d like.”

“As you wish.”

Dean froze, his hand halfway to his whiskey glass, the gears in his head screaming into motion. It wasn’t every day that Cas made a movie reference, especially one with such a blatantly romantic connotation. He was well aware of his own intention in saying it before the movie, but was Cas just emulating him? Picking up on yet another of his habits? Or— No, no. Dean had to remind himself that Cas wasn’t human, that he couldn’t experience affection the same way, that everything else had completely escaped his understanding.

He figured he’d put his foot in his mouth enough times that evening, he should just change his mind about stretching this out any longer, just go to bed. But the thought gnawed at him, the silence had continued to the point of becoming awkward, he needed to say something.

Dean turned to face Cas and swallowed down his pride and insecurities, hope and fear clashing across his features. Cas was waiting patiently with a soft smile, his bright eyes crinkling beautifully.

“Did you just—” Dean whispered, his voice getting caught in his throat.

“I believe so. Did I use the line incorrectly?”

“No—I… I just never thought—”

“That’s fine, too,” Cas quickly cut him off, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“Cas.” Dean reached out and tentatively brushed his fingers lightly across the angel’s stubbled cheek before settling on his shoulder, thumb resting softy on the side of his neck. “Why do you think I said it?”

It was as if someone had just powered Cas back up, he so nearly glowed with joy, and Dean thought to himself that this was the most angelic he’d ever looked. Messy hair, glassy-eyed, and all, he was stunning.

Dean felt the knots in his stomach unravel, the weight he’d been carrying for so long lessened. The hesitation of entering unknown territory faded as it started to sink in that Cas wanted this, too, and he stopped thinking, painfully aware that if he thought about it too much, he’d never do it. And he so desperately needed to do this.

He leaned forward, making his intent clear while also looking for consent, and Cas eagerly met him in the middle. It wasn’t the most graceful kiss, as they were both a little out of practice and had yet to learn each other’s rhythms, but Dean was looking forward to learning.

Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s and sighed contentedly.

“With a little more practice, I think we could top Buttercup and Westley’s kiss.”

“I’d like that,” Cas laughed, his warm breath tickling Dean’s nose.

“Their slow-burn seems almost boring next to ours.”

“Oh, speaking of…” Cas straightened up suddenly, causing Dean to have to catch himself before he fell face-first into the angel’s shoulder.

“Speaking of?”

“I missed how they brought Westley back,” Cas said sheepishly. “Would you mind explaining?”

“A little distracted, were you?” Dean smiled cheekily and leaned in for another kiss, something he could never imagine getting tired of doing.

“More than a little.”

Dean launched into a detailed explanation of the Miracle Max scene, the chocolate-coated miracle pill, and the plan to break into the castle before the wedding, going so far as to include all the dialogue he could remember off the top of his head. Cas tilted his head to rest on Dean’s shoulder and laughed at the exaggerated voices, each distinct and absurd in their own way. When the story was over, they slipped into a comfortable silence, Dean’s arm snaked around Cas’s waist, personal space no longer a concern.

After some time, Cas glanced at the clock on the nightstand and was startled to find it was nearly midnight.

“Oh, before it gets too late…” He lifted his head and placed a hand gently on Dean’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Dean. I would’ve gotten you a gift—”

“There’s nothing I want more than this.”

…

The following morning, Dean woke up early and decided to make breakfast, tossing some slabs of bacon on a baking sheet to crisp up in the oven. Sam stumbled in a few minutes later, drawn in by the aroma. He gave Dean a questioning look and was met with a broad grin.

“Rise and shine, Sammy! Are you going to eat like a normal person, or do I have to separate your eggs for you?”

“I… uh, just the whites would be great, thanks.”

“Normal person breakfast, it is!”

Sam rolled his eyes as he turned on the coffeemaker, but he smiled quietly to himself, glad to see Dean had gotten over whatever had been bothering him the night before.

Cas wandered in as Dean pulled the bacon out of the oven, and Sam just about choked on his coffee; instead of his usual trench coat and suit, Cas was wearing a soft purple and blue flannel he’d most definitely pulled from Dean’s closet, and he’d neglected to button nearly the entire top half.

“Mornin’, sunshine!” Dean slapped his hand away from the hot tray and passed him a mug of coffee instead. “You lookin’ to burn yourself?”

“I’m an angel, you ass,” Cas chuckled, stepping around him to reach the bacon. “I can do what I want.”

“You can’t even taste it properly.”

“Dean, too much grease is bad for your health,” Cas deadpanned as he took a bite of the still steaming rasher. It was hotter than he’d anticipated, but nothing a little grace couldn’t fix.

Sam cleared his throat loudly and gestured at the stovetop, where the eggs were burning.

“Fuck!”

“Good morning, Sam.” Cas took a sip of his coffee as he walked toward the table. “How was your night?”

“Evidently not as good as yours.” Sam looked up at him in stunned disbelief. “You two finally figure your shit out?”

“Hell of a way to phrase it, but yeah.” Dean beamed as he set the plate of bacon on the table, his other arm slung around Cas’s shoulder. “This idiot’s in love with me. Who knew?”

“Practically everyone else,” Sam laughed. “But I’m really happy for you guys, I don’t know anyone more deserving of this. One request, though, seeing as Jack and I live here, too.”

“Shoot.”

“Minimal PDA in communal spaces?”

“No deal.” Dean grinned and promptly pulled Cas in for a kiss.

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Best Medicine

Imagine: Dean taking care of you when you're sick.

You first felt it in the back of your throat. That dry, scratchy feeling that you knew would turn into something worse if you didn't take care of it right away. Problem was, you guys had to leave that morning for a hunt. You knew, though, that if you said something to Dean, he would leave you behind. It's been weeks since the three of you had been out on a hunt. The monster world had been pretty quiet lately, and you were grateful for something to finally break the silence.

You carefully extracted yourself from Dean's arm wrapped around your middle and sat up on the edge of the bed, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. "Whoa," you whispered. You gripped the mattress with one hand and the headboard with the other, trying to steady yourself.

This did not go unnoticed by Dean, who propped himself up on one elbow. "You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, stroking the back of your arm.

You turned to face him and gave him a quick smile. "I'm fine, Dean. I think I just sat up too fast, that's all. I'm going to start getting ready, you know we have that demon problem to take care of two towns over," you reminded him.

"You sure you're up for it? Me and Sam can cover it if you want to hang back here," Dean offered.

"I swear, I'm fine, Dean," you insisted. "This is the first case we've had in weeks, otherwise it's been radio silence. I'm getting a little stir crazy here." You leaned over and kissed his forehead, then stood up to head to the showers.

You took a nice hot and steamy shower, which felt good for a number of reasons. You hoped that doing so would help keep the germs from settling in and making a home in your sinuses. As you got dressed, you found that you felt a little better than you did when you first woke up, though not 100%. If you could just get through this hunt, you promised yourself that once you got back, you would rest and get better.

Fortunately, it was a six-hour drive to where the demons were running loose in town, so you stretched out across the back seat of the Impala. By the time you left town, you were rocked to sleep by the deep rumble of the Impala's engine.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean glanced back at her from the rearview mirror. He was concerned that you weren't feeling well before departing from the bunker. You were stubborn, though, and refused to stay home, insisting on joining the case. Probably good that you had been sleeping for most of the trip. Dean made up his mind that he would keep a close eye on you throughout the hunt for any new signs of illness.

"What's going on, Dean?" Sam asked as he also turned to look in the back seat. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. She was feeling a little under the weather this morning. I offered to let her stay home from this case, but she insisted on coming with us. Hope it's nothing serious. I'll keep a close eye on her, don't worry," Dean explained.

"Oh, I know, I just hope she's feeling okay," Sam replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After the three of you were successful in taking out the demons, you were looking forward to getting back home to the bunker. You had managed to hold off most of the symptoms until after the hunt was over, but you knew that your time of reckoning was coming. Hot, steamy shower, then turn in early, you thought.

Sam hit the showers first. You and Dean sat on the bed, your backs against the headboard and you started watching a movie on TV. You snuggled up to Dean, your head laying on his left thigh. He pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, and frowned a little when he felt how warm your forehead was.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling okay? You seem awfully warm, like you have a fever or something," Dean remarked.

"It's probably just a cold or something, no big deal. My throat was a little scratchy and dry this morning, and my sinuses are a little stuffy now. I'll take a nice hot and steamy shower to clear my sinuses, then turn in early so I can get lots of sleep," you promised with a sleepy smile.

"Baby, I wish I'd known you were feeling like this. Sam and I could've done this ourselves, so you could've recuperated here. You didn't have to come with us if you were sick," Dean replied.

"I know, but hunters really don't get sick days. We had a job to do, and I decided to power through to get it done. Besides, if you had left me here, I'd be worrying about things going sideways and one or both of you getting hurt. I'm not going to let a little cold get in the way of doing my job," you finished.

Dean gave up trying to argue with you as you waited for Sam to get out of the shower. Once he was done, you went in and took the hottest and steamiest shower you could stand. When you came out, you saw that the boys had gone out, probably to get something for dinner. You dried off then put on your pajama pants, a T-shirt and a sweatshirt that you had borrowed from Dean one day.

You turned off the bedroom light. You crawled under the covers and pulled them up to your neck, desperately trying to combat the chills and now aches you were feeling. It didn't help that you had wet hair, but you knew that wasn't the only reason you were cold. You pulled up the hood on the sweatshirt so it was over your head, huddled under the blankets and waited for Sam and Dean to come back.

Some time later, you felt the side of the bed dip under someone's weight sitting beside you. A hand was pressed up against your forehead, followed by a kiss. "Dammit, she's burning up, Sam. Can you get me that bottle of Tylenol out of the bag?" Dean said in a worried tone.

You cracked one eye open and saw Dean with a furrowed brow, fishing two tablets out of the bottle for you. "Hey, sweetheart, you need to take these. It'll get your fever down so you can feel better. Baby, please sit up so you can take this." You obeyed, washing the tablets down with the bottle of water Dean handed you, then your head dropped back onto your pillow. "There you go. That's my girl," he said softly as he kissed your forehead.

Dean left the room to get cleaned up. Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. He slipped beneath the covers and curled up next to you. He noticed that although your body felt warm, you were shivering like you were ice cold. Dean wrapped his arm around your midsection, then drew you close to him so that you were nearly flush against his body. "Good night, sweetheart. Hope you feel better in the morning," he mumbled against your shoulder.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you still weren't feeling 100%. You knew your fever broke sometime during the night, because your pajamas were sticky from sweating under the blankets. You still had a stuffy nose, but now a hacking cough was among your list of symptoms. No kisses on the lips from Dean for a while, you thought as a cough wracked your body.

Dean's arm tightened a little around your midsection, but you gently pushed back. You wanted to take a shower after sweating so much to break your fever. You sat upright on the edge of the bed, trying to get your bearings. Dean reached over to your spot on the bed and came up empty, which woke him up out of concern. "Babe? You okay?" he asked in that husky, early morning voice.

"I'm okay, my love. I promise. Now go back to sleep. My fever broke sometime during the night, so now I feel all sweaty. I'm going to go take a quick shower," you explained, as another coughing fit came on.

Dean propped himself up on one elbow and with his free hand, and rubbed your back until you stopped coughing. "Okay, but come back to bed when you are done after your shower. You need rest, not to be up and around doing stuff," he remarked sternly.

"Yes, Dr. Winchester. I promise I will rest today and leave the doing of stuff to you and Sam," you sassed, kissing his forehead.

"Don't make me lock you in here, woman. I'll do it if that's what it takes to get you to take care of yourself and get well," he warned.

You thought for a moment, then asked, "So, if I don't do as you say, will you lock yourself in here with me? I mean, that's probably the only way to get me to do as you ask."

Dean rolled his eyes, then grinned at you. "Get thee to the showers, woman," he pointed the way, then laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

One shower and a change of clothes later, you took your pillow and your blanket, and curled up on one end of the couch. Dean was passing through the room and saw you all snug in your blanket. He had told you to recuperate in your bedroom, but you looked so peaceful, that he couldn't bring himself to disturb your rest. He laid a hand on your forehead and gently kissed it to gauge your body temperature. Still a little warm, he thought to himself. I'll check back on you later, sweetheart, he silently promised.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With nothing much to do, Dean decided to watch a movie, so he put on a Clint Eastwood western. He sat next to you and rested one hand on your upper thigh while you slept. About one-third of the way through the movie, you started to toss and turn in your sleep. You were also mumbling something, as if you were having a nightmare.

From what Dean could tell, it involved him being in danger, how you couldn't get to him in time and you seemed to be crying. "Shh, sweetheart, everything's okay. I'm right here," he crooned, gently easing you into his arms. "Oh, babe, you feel so warm right now, and that's not good. We gotta get you cooled off," he remarked as he called for Sam.

"What's up, Dean? She still feverish?" he asked.

"Yeah, and I think it's getting worse. I just woke her up from a nightmare, but I wonder if the fever was causing it a little somehow. I'm worried, Sam. If we don't get her fever down and soon, we may have to take her to the hospital," Dean replied.

"Okay, you have her take a couple more Tylenol, and I'll get a cold washcloth for her forehead. Then maybe we can call Cas to see if he can be of any help," Sam said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next few hours, Dean kept a close eye on you, re-wetting the washcloth with cold water as needed and keeping it on your forehead. Around lunchtime, Dean brought you a bowl of chicken broth to help you keep up your strength. He gently nudged you awake and he was rewarded with that sleepy smile of yours that you know he loves so much.

"Hey, sweetheart, it's time for lunch. I made you some chicken broth," he said. "Careful, babe, the mug is kind of hot. Here, let me help you." You maneuvered to a sitting position while Dean held onto the mug. Once you were settled, you held out your hands and he passed you the broth, along with some crackers.

"Thank you, Dean. This was very sweet of you to make lunch for me," you said softly.

He brushed his knuckles along your cheek. "Anything for you, my love. I just want you to get better, so making some soup for you is not a big deal," he answered.

"It is for me, Dean. Love is about the little things too, like you taking care of me when I'm not feeling well," you explained. After you had finished the broth, you handed him the empty mug, which he returned to the kitchen.

When he sat back down on the couch, you wrapped yourself back up in your blanket again. You snuggled up to Dean's chest and he wrapped one arm around you, keeping you close to his side. Soon you were fast asleep.

Slowly but surely over the next day or so, your body temperature came down and stayed down, then you began to feel more like yourself. Three days after it had all started, you were finally back to normal. You decided to repay Dean for the kindness he had shown in taking such good care of you.

You opened the bedroom door to find Dean sitting in his chair, flipping through some weapons catalog. You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning against it. Dean looked up from his reading, and gave you his sexiest smile. "May I help you?" he asked.

You sauntered over to him in his chair. "I wish to thank you for the kindness that you showed me during my recent bout with illness," you replied. Leaning in next to his ear, you whispered, "I'm feeling MUCH better now." As you pulled back, you flashed him a smile, which he returned.

"Is that so?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. You nodded. "And just how will you repay this 'kindness', as you say?"

You lowered yourself onto his lap so that you were straddling his waist. "How's this for starters?" you asked breathily. He pulled you towards him and crashed his lips against yours. The intense passion in his eyes took you by surprise. When you gasped in shock, he took advantage as his tongue slid in to dance with yours. His hands roamed up and down your back, causing you to tilt your head back. Dean peppered your neck with kisses, taking a moment to nip at the skin, leaving his mark.

"Ooh, Dean, that feels amazing," you whispered. You eased yourself off of Dean's lap and started backing up towards the bed. When you felt the mattress hit the back of your legs, you sat down on the bed. Dean followed you, towering over you as his mouth continued to move in sync with yours.

"I must say, Dr. Winchester, I believe that this is the best medicine of all," you murmured.

"Woman, you say the sweetest things," Dean growled as he captured your lips again.

#dean winchester #deanxreader #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfiction #spn fluff #spn imagine #supernatural

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mysticalandenchanting · 4 years ago

Text

Sui Generis

Summary:

Azriel is brooding. Luckily a certain someone comes along to to pull him right out of it. And maybe also turn his whole life around and make him doubt everything. Oneshot.

~~~~~

AN: This is a concept I had for Elriel that practically wrote itself. Minus a couple hours. Please let me know what you think!

~~~~~

Azriel

For hundreds of years I have loved the same female. I thought that no one could possibly compare to her and even though nothing has ever come from it—as I knew nothing ever would—I continued to love her anyway.

I didn’t mind. Loving Mor was easy, had always been. She was always so strong, righteously good, and radiant in a way that I couldn’t forget. She would always be someone that I looked up to, admired.

I had wished a million times that there would be moment that we shared, a moment so pure and affectionate that the mating bond would snap into place. But it never did.

Me and Mor had our moments over the years but nothing so absolute to convey what I felt for her, or any indication that she felt 100% the same.

That's all that I wanted.

Perhaps that was all that she wanted as well, a mating bond to signify something so permanent and whole that she would never have to look again. Something worth waiting for.

If that were the case, then she wouldn’t settle for anything less and I couldn’t blame her for that— even if I was less.

“Azriel?”

I looked up from my perch by the front window, my shadows dispersing as I realize they almost fully encompassed me. I had lost myself in thought in the quiet of the house after everyone had left, Feyre and Rhys retiring for the night and Cas and Mor leaving to go to Rita’s. I had refused the invite not feeling up to it, one of the very few times I had actually done so. They hadn’t batted an eye, though, before they left arm in arm.

Now Elain stood before me with a curious look on her face, still waiting for me to respond.

I cleared my throat, a little unnerved to be caught so red-handedly brooding by myself staring after where Mor and Cas had left.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?” She asked affectionately.

“I’m fine,” I nodded to her in assurance and thanks, “ just a little lost in my thoughts.”

“Anything that you would want to talk about?”

I thought about it as she stood across from me with a look of genuine interest. Elain and I had become good friends over the past couple of months. I liked her. She was kind and sweet.

She had gone through a lot this last year with being forced to turn fae, given the gift of sight, immediately mated to a male, her engagement being broken, kidnapped, and even having to stab someone. And through it all she was still just as caring.

I hadn’t exactly confided in her about my situation with Mor and a plenty other things but she was easy to talk to and I had found myself on many occasions telling her about myself. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. I was a spy and a shadowsinger after all, keeping to myself was second nature.

Elain was confusing in that way, in that she was easy to be around and talk to and yet there were moments I had nervously second guessed myself in how I should act toward her. Like when I had struggled for days on whether I should respect her privacy when Lucien first came to Velaris or even when I had debated whether or not to get her a Winter Solstice gift to the point that I had straight up asked Rhys about it. A decision I had regretted after the absolutely perfect gift she had given me that still brought a smile to my face months later. “I’m not sure I would be good company tonight,” I admitted.

“I’m sure you would. You have always had a certain gravitas to you that I have liked.”

Fondness surged through me as I smiled and gestured to chairs by the window.

“So what is on your mind tonight?”

I debated telling the truth, wondered if she had already guessed. When it came to Mor, I couldn’t always be as level-headed as I would like.

“I was actually thinking about the mating bond.” I leaded.

Her eyes widened in surprise at my admission, “And what about it?”

“If I would ever find it. Them.” I looked out the window again, toward Mor and to avoid eye contact.

“Do you want to find it?”

I look back to her, hesitating, but unable to stop the answer coming from my mouth, “Yes.”

Somehow admitting it out loud felt like a relief, like a small weight off my shoulders. It wasn’t something I could so easily admit to Rhys or Cas or any of the others.

“What is it like?” I continued. I knew this wasn’t a pleasant topic for Elain and that she would not understand my longing for something that had been forced onto her but I was curious.

“Its…” she started, looking to me, knowing I would want an unbiased answer, “It’s like a tether tied from you to them. A constant awareness that they are out there and urge to pull the tether closer when they’re far away. Yet, at the same time, it’s so subtle that it can be easy to forget about it. I imagine it's what it's like to forget what it is to be by yourself with no one knowing where you are after you’ve spent so much time in the presence of others.”

“After 500 years, I’m sure I have experienced that feeling at some point.”

She looked at me thoughtfully, “Why do you want the mating bond?”

“I suppose it’s part of being fae, to want that experience of finding your other half. To know who you're supposed to be going through your long life with.”

She makes a skeptical face at that, “That there is someone who will understand and love every aspect of you and leave you without a doubt about it.”

“I don’t imagine it being like that with Lucien.” She admitting, not entirely understanding as she brushed a golden brown lock from her face and tucking it behind her ear and leaning forward in her chair.

“Yeah sure, I know there are good and bad experiences with the mating bond but it’s suppose to be an admission of fate.”

She smiles, “You mean like Feyre and Rhys.”

“Like Feyre and Rhys.” I admit, reluctantly smiling back. They were a perfect example of what the mating bond was suppose to be. And to have that so near had prickled at how much I had wanted that. I sighed.

“If you hadn’t been matched with Lucien when you had been, would it have been something that you would have wanted?” I asked, to distract myself by how immeasurably far I was from having the bond myself, especially with the female I wanted.

Elain took a second to think about her answer, brushing her hands down the skirts of her dress to smooth them out. She looked as elegant as she always did with her cream colored dress that was overlaid with an intricately detailed lace and only accessorized with a string of pink pearls around her neck. Her hair lay wavy with loose braids tying back the fronts of her hair. It always amazed me how we must look together, like polar opposites, light and dark, night and day, and yet there were many ways that we were similar.

“I think,” Elain started, finally gathering her thoughts, “that If I could have chosen, then I wouldn’t want the bond at all.”

I lifted my eyebrows, a little astonished. Maybe not so similar.

“I’m sure Lucien is a good male and he has put in an effort to try and get to know me and I know it has bothered Feyre to no end that I wouldn’t give him any sort of chance, but… it’s just not what I want.

“I truly loved Graysen and I thought he truly loved me as well and it had hurt a lot when he had turned his back on me, but I’m grateful now. It took some time but it made me see in a way that I wouldn’t have seen for many years otherwise that he didn’t love me the way that I want to be loved.

“And with Lucien, I don’t know if there could have been something there or not but whatever might have happened was ruined by the bond to where I know he couldn’t have loved me the way I want.

“I want to love and be loved so purely and wholeheartedly that nothing could ever come between us, no circumstance, no obstacle. What I want is something stronger than the mating bond. Something built from nothing because there is a beauty in the choice and a power in the unconditionality of it all.

“And whoever that is for me, I won’t need a tether to tie me to them, to make me constantly aware of them and always want them closer.”

She finished with a small smile and a look of wishful contentment in her brown eyes.

I felt like I couldn’t breath and that something had definitely lodged itself in my throat. Also at some point my heartbeat had started picking up and was ready to jump out of my chest, it was hammering so hard.

Every word she had said had burned its way in my mind, leaving me feeling utterly stunned. I didn’t know what to say, what to feel, what to do.

A slight blush spread to her cheeks as she looked down, probably because I was gaping like a fool, “I’m sorry, I’m just spouting off about my beliefs on love.”

I coughed lightly and swallowed trying to free my throat but my voice still comes out quiet as raspy, “No—no, It’s uh… It’s okay.”

“It’s getting pretty late, I should go to bed,” she rises from her seat smiling sweetly, “Thank you for the good company.”

“Goodnight, Elain,” I watch her every step across the room and up the stairs until she rounds the corner out of sight. I let out a breath of air that I hadn’t realized I had been holding as I slouch back in the chair crushing my wings slightly.

I sat there for quite some time more, although, while before I had stared out the window, deep into the night, now I sat and stared at the staircase.

Something about what she had said had resonated with me so deeply that I didn’t quite understand what it was. I wanted to though.

I wanted to understand why my heart was still racing, why I couldn’t seem to stand just yet.

Whatever I was feeling at the beginning of this night was long gone. Elain had banished it as easily as if she were just plucking weeds out of the garden.

She had also planted something there too, while she was at it. I wondered what it would bloom to be.

#elriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #elriel fluff #sui generis fic #acotar #acotar fic #acomaf #acowar #elain archeron #azriel

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