#cas should have gotten to dress up for dean more

[strawlessandbraless]

It’s him, it’s Dr. Sexy

[kerryweaverlesbian]

The Bunker kitchen is always cold, but it's at its coldest at the crack of dawn. Staring down into his creamed coffee, Dean wonders if 45 is old enough to slough off the habit of a lifetime and start sleeping in til at least 8, but then he remembers the nightmares he got the last time he tried messing with his sleep cycle. Maybe what he really needs is an extra pair of socks.

"I have something for you."

Dean looks up from his cup and smiles sleepily at Cas, who'd paused to get dressed when Dean had slumped directly to the kitchen in his pjs. He still wears his suit, tie and trench coat ensemble, thoroughly overdressed for 6.30 in the morning, but he still hadn't bothered to brush his hair. Mr Contrarian. He's adorable.

"I thought gifts were later," Dean says, instead of fawning. He has some dignity left. Somewhere.

"Big ones are."

"2 o' clock? No surprises?" Dean challenges - after his 40th, when he'd knocked Sam out thinking he'd been possessed with how shifty he'd been acting trying to hide the big party, Dean's (quite reasonably, he thinks) insisted on a strict birthday itinerary of his own devising.

"No surprises," Cas promises. He pulls his hand out of his coat pocket and puts a tape down on the table, flat, and slides it across to Dean with two fingers.

It's simply labeled in Cas’s looping cursive: For Dean. Dean picks it up and flips it over, no more information on the back.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it," Cas explains needlessly, and Dean can see him fidgeting in his periphery. Cute. "I know you like to 'pick the music' but I thought you might appreciate knowing some that make me think of you."

"I like it," Dean assures him, glancing up to grin at him, and he's glad to see Cas’s shoulders relax.

"Good. It would have been very awkward if you didn't."

"Yeah, and you're never awkward," Dean teases, and gets a suspicious squint for it that pivots quickly into a fond eyeroll. "Can I play it now?"

"Oh," Cas says, sounding surprised, "Yes."

He vanishes for a second and then blinks back with one of their cassette players, one of those flat, black, functional things that star in 70s cop shows. There was a little puffy sticker of a stegosaurus on it from Jack's sticker phase.

"Ever heard of goodbye?" Dean complains unseriously, and happily accepts the sweet kiss Cas offers as he passes the player over.

Cas doesn't dignify him with a response, but he does stay close, hovering over Dean’s like a warm shadow as he sets the tape in and hits Play. There's a few seconds of staticky silence, and then, surprisingly, a recording of Cas’s voice comes rumbling out of the speaker.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas-"

"Cas," Dean says, hitting Pause, "why am I listening to you doing an exorcism? Where's the rock'n'roll?"

"You like things that are practical. You're welcome." He says it with such sincere, smug certainty that he'd gotten it completely right that Dean can't help but laugh.

"So you made me an exorcism mix-tape?"

"It's helpful."

"Sentimentality, thy name is Castiel." Dean kisses Cas’s knuckles, delighted with him, "I thought you said there were songs on here."

"They're on the other side."

"This whole side is just you chanting?"

"Not all of it," Cas says, and leans over Dean's shoulder to skim through with the fast-forward. He lands expertly near the end, which should not be as sexy to Dean as it is. The Cas recording finishes his latin, then there's a long pause, and then:

"I expect you saved them by now. Or they died." A smaller pause, then Cas adds, at an afterthought, "Hopefully the former. Dean, I love you."

Click. End of the tape. It's only when Cas’s hand comes up gently to his cheek that he realises he'd shed a tear.

"Dean," Cas says, with his infinite tenderness, half wonder, half exasperation.

"Just caught me off guard," Dean protests weakly, swiping under his eye roughly (but careful not to dislodge Cas’s hand).

For around the first 6 months after Cas’s return, Dean couldn't hear an "I love you" without bursting into tears. He'd gotten better with it in the years following, but but sometimes it still hit. Like now. Cas knew that he'd only be using this side of the tape in an all the way fucked up situation, and he'd given him a small, unnecessary kindness. Another one - a charming little kiss is pressed to his forehead.

"What'd I do to get you, Cas?" Dean marvels out loud, and Cas leans back to frown at him, still holding his face in his wide hands.

"Quite a lot," Cas deadpans, and that sets Dean off laughing again.

He grabs Cas’s wrist to smack a kiss to his palm, and then to pull himself upright, his other hand blindly flipping the tape over and starting up the music side. As the opening Auoooghs of Gin Wigmore's Black Sheep starts up, Dean tugs Cas to dance with him to it, uncoordinated and unrestrained.

"Dancing wasn't in the plan" Cas notes dryly, but he lets Dean sing to his tie like it's a microphone anyway, and Dean can tell he's biting back a smile.

"Screw the plan! It's my birthday!"

"It's your birthday plan."

"Exactly, so I get to change it." Dean stops Cas arguing back by kissing him, which only works about 40% of the time, but this, it seems, is one of those times. "I love you, man."

"I love you too. Happy birthday, Dean."

The affection in Cas’s gaze warms Dean all the way down to the very tips of his toes. It is a happy birthday. Almost as good as all the ones after it.

[annmariethrush]

Suptober day 3: inspired

Dean gets excited about making breakfast after morning-sex only for it to go embarrassingly awry. On AO3 or below the cut :)

Dean sighed contentedly as Cas rolled onto the bed beside him, dropping the towel onto the floor next to the bed. Dean adjusted his sweaty body, which was quickly becoming clammy in the cool air, to press against the soft, warm skin of Cas’s upper body that always radiated a gentle heat.

Now that Jack was god and no longer living in the Bunker, Sam being out on a case meant that Dean and Cas had the whole place to themselves. As much as Dean loved living with his brother, he knew better than to waste privacy when he got it, and he had passed that tenet along to Cas over the months after Sam had given him enough bitch face to last a life time.

Pressing a thoughtless kiss against Dean’s hairline, Cas grunted, “You need to eat breakfast. Do you want to go shower while I make it?”

Dean laughed gently, “Sunshine, after last time, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Dean’s mind drifted back to several weeks ago when Cas had attempted to make French toast before Dean got out of bed. He had awoken to the smell of smoke drifting from the kitchen and Sam loudly admonishing Cas for trying to burn the place down.

Cas frowned and began to protest before a sudden thought made Dean cut him off excitedly. “Wait!! I’ll make pancakes! It’s been forever since I got to make pancakes, but we have fresh eggs from the store finally so I should have all the ingredients and we can—“ Dean trailed off, “What?”

Cas’s frown had morphed into a bemused grin at Dean’s ramblings and he was staring at Dean as though nothing else in the world could be funnier or cuter. Cas gave Dean a kiss, firm and a little sloppy, and entirely drawn out, with a comical “mmmmwah” sound, before making a show of shoving Dean out of bed unceremoniously.

“Hey!” Dean rolled off the bed, giggling as he caught himself. “Fine, no more post-coital cuddling for you!”

Dean gathered up some combination of clothes from the floor where they had been scattered, quickly finding himself dressed in a pair of light blue flannel pajama pants (adorned with clouds wearing sun glasses) and a dark pink t-shirt from Cas’s closet that said “SWEET CHEEKS” on it, which Dean had acquired from a restaurant’s gift shop in Kentucky several hunts ago. He gave Cas a grin and a wink before grabbing his dead-guy robe from the back of the door and heading to the kitchen.

Dean’s mind wandered while he gathered ingredients for the pancakes, frequently going back to check the recipe— a torn out magazine page from an issue of Southern Lady that he had been thumbing through in a motel room while Sam was showering. As he dug through the pantry he came across a fresh squirt bottle from a pack he had gotten to store cooking oil in and had an idea.

—

Dean was proudly drawing the outline for his fifth penis shaped pancake into the pan, carefully adding veins to the curved length, when he heard a sound behind him in the kitchen. He turned to greet Cas, a huge grin on his face, only to have his expression turn to horror as his eyes settled on the person before him. He instinctively moved to put his body in front of the plate full of pancakes before slowly greeting the person before him.

“Morning, Jack.” Dean felt his whole face flushing bright red and he considered just asking Jack to smite him right then and there. “I can make you other pancakes, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in this morning…”

Jack looked entirely unfazed, as per usual, and was about to respond when Cas came around the corner saying “Smells good sweethea— Jack!!“

Dean’s eyes flicked over to Cas and he doubled down on his wish for Jack to smite him as he noticed Cas’s attire. Unaffected by the chilly winter air in the Bunker, Cas had opted for only a pair of pajama pants, leaving the broad expanse of his chest and his toned arms on full display. With a big smile, he strode towards his son, greeting him with a hug. Jack squeezed back, the two of them entirely unbothered by Cas’s lack of clothes, and paying no attention to Dean’s bright red face.

Just smite me…

Pulling back, Jack pointed past Dean and told Cas confidently, “Dean made pancakes that look like you!”

PLEASE FUCKING SMITE ME!!

“Oh did he? Well you know how inspiring I am…” Cas smirked as he moved to glance behind Dean’s back at the plate of pancakes.

Dean’s eyes stayed wide open even as his brain begged to shut them, watching as the metaphorical vehicles piled up and spontaneously combusted in this seemingly endless car wreck he couldn’t peel his eyes away from. He felt the moment that Cas made eye contact with the carefully crafted penis pancakes, seeing them in their veiny glory, and the air in the room went utterly still. Cas’s smirk dropped for a moment, causing Dean to simultaneously rejoice at not being the only one embarrassed and to redden further as Cas grasped the situation, but then Cas was suddenly doubled over laughing.

This was more than Dean could cope with.

Before he knew it though, he was doubled over too, laughing so hard that his ribs hurt, his eyes leaked, and he was hardly even making a sound as his lungs tried in vain to fill back up. They laughed and laughing, leaning against each other, and nearly collapsing onto the floor. Only minutes later when Dean had wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks and mostly caught his breath did he think to look at Jack again, finding him with an eyebrow quirked and a slight smile, but otherwise entirely unmoved.

Dean turned around to revel in his work now that the tension had left his shoulders and, with a jolt of panic, realized he had completely neglected the pancake outline still on the pan. “Shit!”

He cringed as he attempted to pry it off the pan, listening to it crack and shatter into small burnt shards. Accepting his loss, he scraped it off of the pan with force and piled the soot into a small bowl to cool down before going in the trash can. Finally, he turned around to face the music once more.

“So, I’m the one who is too irresponsible to make breakfast…” Cas stated, giving Dean a smug look.

“I don’t wanna hear a goddamn thing, it’s not the same and you know it.” Dean defended, though he was already beginning to think that Cas might be right. He sighed, “What shape pancakes would you like Jack?”

Jack’s brow furrowed for a moment, thinking about it very deeply, before stating, resolutely, “Trapezoid.” He nodded as though confident in his answer before adding, “Please.”

Dean shook his head gently before putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder reassuringly, “You got it kid. Now go put the syrup and orange juice on the table while your dad goes to get a shirt.”

Jack hops over to the fridge happily and begins digging out the juice. Cas gives Dean another smug look before turning to go, but Dean grabs him by the wrist and pulls him in for a hug. Cas, surprised, wraps his hands around Dean’s waist before Dean whispers harshly in his ear, “I’m gonna enjoy these pancakes and then I am never going to hear another word about this, understood?”

Cas leans back and plants a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek, “Of course. Because Sam wouldn’t find this funny at all…”

With that, Cas turned and ran out of the kitchen laughing. “Oh you’re gonna get it now, buddy!” Dean hollered after him.

He turned back towards the stove with a shake of his head and a lingering smile before thinking to himself, what the fuck is a trapezoid???

[roadtogracelandx45]

Runaway Bride|2| Supernatural Mafia AU

@ohnoitsthebat

“Mom, can you tell me what the hell is going on?” Ellie asked as she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, her eyes on her mother. She had been picked up by a private driver and to an upscale hotel that made her extremely uncomfortable.

 Ellie had gotten used to a lifestyle where she had to work to earn things. Her aunt and uncle never handed her or Jo anything. They both worked either at the salvage yard, garage or at the roadhouse. Or all three, they learned the value of a dollar. Ellie saved her money up and got her dream car and paid for her college tuition on her own. Things she wouldn’t have learned if she had stayed with Angela after her father died. 

 “We are going to dinner with a senator and his family.” Angela answered as she started holding up different dresses. “A senator? Are you high?” the uncomfortableness was growing in the pit of her stomach.. “I am very serious.” she returned, pushing one of the black dresses into her arms, “it’s time you step up and start being a part of this family.” 

“I have been a part of this family mom. More than you have been.”

 The anger that she had held on for years was starting to break through, “I have worked at Uncle Bobby’s salvage yard and the garage with Dean. Where have you been? As soon as Dad died you dipped out and married James.”

 “Eleanor.” Angela started but her daughter held up her hands. “No, we aren’t going to have this fight again. It’s not worth it. Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen were right.” There was a flash of anger in Angela’s dark eyes. “You only want a relationship with me if it's good for you and your status.” She spat, unable to help herself as she stormed into the bathroom. “Eleanor Antonia!” Angela shouted as she tried to push open the door. But it was locked. She slapped her hand against the door and cursed when she heard AC/DC turn on. 

“You are so like your father.’ She muttered as she slapped her hand against the door.

**

Jo’s phone beeped several times at her and she picked it up, her cousin had sent her a message, “You were right. We are going to dinner with a senator and his family. His son is a Harvard graduate and he is a lawyer to boot.” she could almost see Ellie rolling her eyes at her reflection in the mirror

. Another message came in quickly, “I should have brought you with me. This trip would be a lot more bearable.” Laughing to herself, Jo replied to her cousin before going down the stairs.

 “Jo? Where’s Ellie?” Cas’s voice asked as she went down the stairs. “In New York with Angela, she has another man that she wants Ellie to meet.’ Her dark eyes went to Dean who scowled.

 “You know, your life would be a lot easier if you would just tell her your feelings. It wouldn’t hurt anything or anyone. It would probably be alot better for both of you.” 

“Stay out of it Jo. She is a big girl. She can do whatever she wants.” Dean replied as he went over to the cart that had the booze on it. There was one way that he was going to survive this weekend without Ellie being there and that was to get stupidly drunk. 

** “Oh Angela, she is an absolute doll.’ Miram Allerd said looking at Ellie over several times, “She will be perfect for Richard.” 

Angela beamed as she squeezed Ellie’s elbow, this is what she wanted, she will finally be able to take the place within the family that she knew she deserved. 

“What did you do back in South Dakota?” Miram asked as she fixed the charm that hung from Ellie’s necklace. “I went to school for nursing. And I worked at the salvage yard and the garage.’ The salvage yard and  garage had served as fronts for many side businesses and fronts for fraudulent companies for the Gambino Crime Family.  

“Oh, no, no. That won’t do at all. From now on you are just a nursing student.” 

A glare formed on Ellie’s face as she pulled her elbow out of her mother’s grip before she folded her arms under her chest. Furious with herself for believing that her mother had pulled her into this and was using the fact that she wanted a relationship with her to get what she wanted. She should have listened to Ellen, Bobby and Jo, they had been right all along.

 “Eleanor.” Angela started but stopped short when she saw the angry glare in her eyes. “I am not doing this. You can’t make me do this.” 

“Actually Ms Scott.” A man’s voice came from the doorway, “We can, your mother has offered you up as part of a deal she made with Mr. Gambino, she gets the status and money that she is owed and you marry our son.” 

Ellie turned on her heel to look at the man.  

Surprise taking over her anger.  “I have a life back in Sioux Falls. I have friends, I have a career. I have school. I am not going to give that up just so Angela can get what she wants.’ 

“I am afraid darling. You really don’t have a choice.”  

[bi-bard]

Milkshakes - Team Free Will Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Milkshakes

Pairing: Team Free Will X Platonic!Fem!Reader (as put in the request)

Requested: @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 1,846 words

Warning(s): violence, death

Summary: [Early Season 11 (Before Episode 10)] Sam and Dean think that there's something that can be The Darkness. Castiel warns them but... who knows? Maybe God's ultimate weapon isn't as scary as it seems.

Author's Note: I used dodie for outfit inspiration because the outfit matched the vibe but change it if you want. I only used a female read because it's in the request and it helped with clarity because the whole imagine is in 3rd person (I do usually use they/them pronouns in my work). Finally, I thought the milkshake flavor sounded good, but you can change it in your mind if you want to.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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--Third Person P.O.V--

Sam was leaning over a lore book in the library. It was too early for him to be so focused on the book but he felt like he needed to. The Darkness being released was his fault, he needed to find a solution.

Dean walked in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and was clearly still half-asleep. He sat across from his brother.

"What're you reading," Dean grumbled out in between sips of coffee.

"I found this book about the most powerful beings," Sam explained. "Most of them are just rumored to exist but I thought it'd give us a jumping-off point on where to find something to help us defeat Amara."

"Anything interesting," Dean asked.

"A Nephilim; kid of an angel and a human," Sam said. "There's no mention that they could kill someone as powerful as God. Then there's..."

Sam trailed off and went back through the book, hunting for a particular page he had read nearly an hour ago. He pointed to the page once he found it.

"This doesn't even have a name but it describes a creature created by God to be a weapon," Sam explained. "I was doing some snooping on some message boards when I first found out about it. There's a lot of religious nuts and self-proclaimed hunters who think this thing is gonna be the end of the world. They say it's a prophecy that can't be stopped."

"And you think hunting it down is a good idea," Dean asked.

"Listen, I don't think it's fair to think this thing wants to end the world," Sam replied. "I think it's the best choice we have right now."

"Alright, fine, where do we look," Dean asked.

The boys didn't have to look far before Castiel popped into the library. He asked where they had gotten on their path to defeat Amara. His eyes went wide when they explained what they wanted to do.

"Are you two insane," Castiel asked.

"Listen-"

"No, I know more about this than either of you," the angel stopped Dean's argument. "This creature could kill you both with a look and end the world with a flick of the wrist and you want to track it down?!"

"Isn't it worth trying," Sam asked.

"'Trying,'" Castiel was so unbelievable done with the idiotic decisions of the Winchesters at that point.

"If we don't try something, then Amara kills all of us anyways," Dean said. "We need something Cas. This could be the thing."

Castiel sighed, letting his head fall forward for a moment before looking back up at the boys.

"Fine," Castiel threw his hands up. "Do you know how to find this thing?"

"Looks like a spell," Sam turned the book so Castiel could look at the page. "We should have everything. It's strange no one's tried-"

"Succeeded," Castiel corrected. "People have probably tried if the spell is so simple."

"Okay, good, let's get the supplies and give it a shot," Dean clapped his hands and stood up.

In a matter of minutes, the boys and their angel were back around the table and ready to start the spell.

Castiel and Dean jumped when Sam grabbed a knife and nicked his hand.

"One of us needs to be bonded," Sam explained. "Like a human compass. It feels right that it's me."

He didn't wait for the other two to respond before he started reading the spell of the book. Castiel and Dean exchanged a look for a moment.

As he finished the spell, a purple flame shot up from the bowl for a second. Sam felt his arm tingling from the wound up. He shook it out, trying to understand what it was telling him.

States over, a young girl, a college student visiting home, is sitting in a booth at a small diner.

In between page turns, she sits up straight. Her eyes flash the same purple as the flame from the spell before she snaps out of the trance.

She looks around. Everything feels different. It's like the air had shifted around her. She furrowed her eyebrows... what the hell was that?

--time skip--

Dean pulled the impala up to the curb of the street. The three of them look at the nice house. White picket fence, two stories, a garden.

"Are you sure about this," Dean asked Sam. "This seems like a pretty normal house."

Sam nodded, "I can feel it. It's here."

"Alright, let's go," Dean replied.

The three of them got out of the car and made their way up the pathway. None of them knew what fight they were going to get once they opened that door. It could've been a deadly fight. They may not have even had a chance to fight.

Still, with one last silent check with the others, Dean lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

The last thing they expected was for a girl to open the door with a wide smile. She had a white dress on with an orange cardigan over the top.

"Hello," she said happily. "What can I help you with?"

"Sam," Dean looked at his brother. Sam just nodded. He could feel it in his gut. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)," the girl replied. "And you are?"

"I'm Sam," the taller man answered. "This is Dean and Cas."

"Nice to meet you," she held a hand out.

Sam awkwardly accepted, shaking her hand. They both froze, eyes flashing purple before they both stepped back from each other.

"That was weird," (Y/n) mumbled, frowning at her hand. "What was that?"

The boys looked at each other but before they could speak, there was a crash from inside the house. The girl jumped.

"Who's that," Dean asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "My parents are gone. No one else is supposed to be here."

Sam and Dean grabbed their guns before all of them walked inside.

Before they could get any answers for themselves, an angel rounded the corner and tried to grab (Y/n), who ran behind the others as soon as she saw the angel.

She stumbled backward toward the wall in shock and fear. She covered her mouth as the more angels walked into her living, not that she knew that's who they were.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were getting thrown around.

"Stop," Sam yelled as they walked toward (Y/n).

"We need something to defeat the Darkness," one of the angels said. "This is our option. Thank you for leading us to her."

(Y/n) was shaking more as she listened. The Darkness? Why was she so important to them? To the boys or the others who had broken into her house?

"Come on, (Y/n)," one of the angels had a hand out to her. She shook her head and the angel chuckled. "Fine. Make this harder."

The others came running at her.

"No," she yelled, dropping to the ground, and covering herself with her arms.

A pulse of energy shot out. The angels that had broken in had burned in front of her.

Dean, Sam, and Cas looked at each other.

(Y/n) slowly looked up from where she was.

"Hey," Sam walked over, kneeling next to her. "You alright?"

"What was that," she asked, shaking. "Who are you? Who were they? What did I do?"

"Hey, hey," Sam touched the girl's shoulders. "It's alright. Hey... how about we go somewhere to calm down? How about some food, yeah? Is there a restaurant nearby or something?"

She nodded. Sam helped her stand up fully and led her to the impala. Dean and Cas sat in the front while Sam and (Y/n) took the backseat.

(Y/n) rambled about a small diner nearby, giving Dean quick directions before falling silent again.

The four of them took a booth in the farthest back corner. (Y/n) sat leaning against the wall, Sam next to her and Cas and Dean across from her.

"Umm... do you know what you want," Sam asked quietly, making (Y/n) aware of the waitress there.

She was an old friend, "You alright, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah," (Y/n) nodded. "I'm just a little tired. Umm... can I get a cherry vanilla milkshake?"

"That it for you, dear," the waitress checked. (Y/n) nodded with a grin, playing with the end of her cardigan's sleeves.

The waitress took the other three's orders before walking away.

"Who were those people," (Y/n) asked. "Why did they break into my house?"

"Because God made you a weapon," Cas said bluntly, making (Y/n)'s eyes go wide.

"A weapon?"

"He means," Dean jumped in, "you have powers that you don't know about. That's why you were able to get rid of those angels."

"Those were angels," she tried to keep her voice down. They all nodded. "I thought angels were supposed to be good?"

"They are supposed to follow orders," Cas corrected. "Not all of them are good."

She nodded, "Are you guys angels?"

"No, well, Sam and I aren't," Dean pointed between him and his brother. "Cas is."

"Oh," she muttered. "You're not-"

"I'm not gonna force you to go to heaven to defeat the Darkness," Cas promised.

"The Darkness," she said. "What's that? Why do I need to fight it?"

"The Darkness is... kind of our fault," Sam explained. "She's trying to create a new world in her image, which includes destroying this one."

"So, how'd you find me," she asked.

Before they could answer, the waitress came back, dropping off their food and drinks. (Y/n) leaned forward and took a sip of her milkshake and grinned to herself for a moment.

The boys were so confused. This was God's weapon?

"Well, Dean and I are hunters," Sam continued once (Y/n) back over to him. "We hunt monsters. Our grandpa was part of this group, the Men of Letters. They have a book in their collection that talks about you. There was a spell that led us to you."

She nodded but furrowed her eyebrows. Monsters? God? Hunters? After what had happened today, she struggled to deny all of it but was still hesitant to believe them?

"Well, if the Darkness knows I can defeat... her... won't she be looking for me too," (Y/n) asked.

"We can keep you safe," Dean promised.

"You're sure?"

"As sure as possible," he nodded.

(Y/n) looked down for a moment, "Okay. I'll go with you. I just... I need to get some stuff from my house and tell my parents that I'll be gone."

"You can't tell them where you're going or why," Dean said. "It'll put them in danger."

She bit her lip, "If it saves them in the long run, fine."

(Y/n) asked a lot more questions that day as they ate in the diner. They told her about monsters and the big bads they had faced. Monsters' weaknesses and abilities. Their other hunting buddies. People she could trust.

Sam, Dean, and Cas trusted her immediately. They felt like they needed to. Like she was a person to rely on.

And there- over a cherry vanilla milkshake- (Y/n) watched her entire life change forever.

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[l-r-christian]

Title: Tied: The Huntress and The Original part two

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Winchester!Reader

Warnings: Y/N stabbing more things, Fluff, makeout

Summary: Y/N is trapped with the father of her future child as at first Y/N didn't want to give in to Elijah but the vampire is becoming more and more harder to resist. Elijah already adores Y/N and protective of her as he finds it hard to not be close to her.

Tags: @jjrp-obsessed67 - @elijahmikaelson33 - @just-another-writer-17 - @rere-the-writer

Part one - part three

Y/N was more and more surprised with just how much the demons planned everything as she explored the catacombs with Elijah who stayed close to her. They found a bedroom, it was every nice as it had a large bed with a bath attached.

Y/N dug through the dresser seeing it was was full of clothes and lingerie that would fit her as Elijah found they had gotten him suits which he was happy to be out of bloody clothes.

"It seems they planned to keep us here until I had the baby." Y/N said turning swallowing seeing Elijah stepping out of the bathroom rolling up his sleeves happy to be out of his bloody clothes. Y/N couldn't help but stare at his arms then hands catching the vampire's attention. Smirking Elijah reached for her but Y/N ducked out of his arms.

"We should relax as I'm sure the magic keeping us here should be gone by morning. Then we can figure it out in the morning." Elijah says looking up from the bed to see Y/N in a short nightie that only stopped mid thigh. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up seeing Elijah licking his bottom lip.

"Night big guy." Y/N said climbing into the bed and Elijah followed behind her. Elijah traced her curves listening to the huntress trying to sleep when she huffed rolling over and kissing the vampire who responded right away. Elijah rolled them over hiking her legs over his hips growling when she nipped at his bottom lip as the kiss got more hungry. Y/N moaned opening Elijah's shirt as he attacked her neck with bites and nips.

"You're just divine, my dear." Elijah said against her neck making her choke on a moan when he grinded his hips just right against hers. Y/N pulled Elijah into another heated kiss when Elijah stopped hushing her gently. Y/N blinked when Elijah got off of her listening for something and her hunter instincts kicked in.

Y/N dressed quickly grabbing her blade twirling it as she followed Elijah out seeing it was demons with a black woman. It happen quickly the demons attacked her as Elijah grabbed the woman by the thoat.

"Celeste, I am surprised to see you here." Elijah growled as the witch smirked as her eyes flickered over to Y/N who stood there panting. Y/N was ready for anything as she watched the witch.

"Came to see your future dead lover." Celeste said snapping her fingers and vampires came in attacking Y/N and she was quick to fight back as Elijah growled squeezed Celeste's thoat.

"What is your game Celeste?"

"The barrier is down....who would you choose? You beloved huntress .....or your family?" Celeste questioned when Elijah growled deeply squeezing her neck harder as panic came across Celeste's face when Elijah leaned close to her ear.

"Better hope my siblings will not find you as I am not the only one who would bring your end." Elijah said lowly as Celeste moved her hand making him let her go as he held his head while Celeste moved away. She watched Elijah fall to his knees making her smirk.

"She'll die by your hand Elijah or your family will." Celeste said leaving as Elijah panted growling tearing though a vampire that bit Y/N. She squeaked when Elijah pulled her close licking her blood from the bite then healed her.

"I'm okay Elijah." Y/N whispered feeling him buried his face in her neck as both of was already strongly bonded. The sound of fluttering wings reached their ears and Elijah pushed her behind him.

"Sugarplum! You're okay!"

"Gabriel?!" Y/N said moving around Elijah running hugging the Archangel who grinned hugging her tightly. While a flare of jealousy ran through Elijah as he watched Y/N with the angel.

"You okay?"

"Yeah found future baby daddy." Y/N said as Gabriel laughed looking at Elijah aware of what he was.

"Gabe where are we?"

"About a three day drive away from New Orleans." Gabriel answered Y/N making the woman frown cursing in Enochian walking out of the tomb. Elijah followed after his pissed off huntress seeing that they were in an century old cemetery. Y/N huffed annoyed leaning back against Elijah when she felt him behind her.

"Looks like we are going to be stuck in a car for while." Y/N said looking up at Elijah as he smiled leaning down kissing her forehead.

"I don't mind, beautiful." Elijah tells her watching her flushed brightly as he reached for her hand. Gabriel had gotten Y/N's truck and as she rolled her eyes seeing Gabriel pout when Elijah claimed the passenger seat.

"Where is Sam and Dean?" Y/N asked driving letting Elijah place his hand on her leg while Gabriel layed in her back seat.

"In Mystic Falls where you last hunt was now headed for New Orleans as the Mikaelsons are waging war looking for Elijah."

"Nice to know."

"Y/N, you're alive." Y/N heard Castiel say popping up in the back seat of her truck making her scream nearly driving off the the road as Elijah gripped the wheel. The truck came to a screeching halt as Y/N panted hand over her chest closing her eyes as Elijah gently took her hand rubbing it.

"Cas! We talked about this!"

"I apologize Y/N. But I heard you so I came as soon as I could." Castiel says as Y/N sighed starting to drive again. An hour into driving Y/N looked into the rear view mirror noticing a car following them.

"Cas? Does the Men of Letters know about the baby thing?" You asked keeping an eye on the car as Elijah raised an eyebrow as Gabriel sat up looking out the back window.

"They do. They had told Sam and Dean about the prophecy which is why they are looking for you."

"Darling?"

"The car following us happens to be my annoying ex, Arthur Ketch." Y/N said picking up speed as Gabriel smirked.

"If I didn't know any better, Suga you have a type."

"Now isn't the time Gabriel." Y/N growled out driving faster as her phone rang which she answered it putting it on speaker.

"Darling, pull over."

"No, go fuck yourself Ketch." Y/N said turning quickly down a back road as Ketch stopped on the road. Elijah felt many feelings fill him while he knew Y/N would have past lovers but the idea one of them was still around her made him feel possessive.

"Do you think I'll follow you down some back road? Let alone have you bare another man's child?"

"First off fuck you again and second yes because you would never allow dirt to touch that dumb car of yours. And thirdly Elijah is a real gentlemen unlike you a lying, backstabbing asshole who leaves his ex-girlfriend's baby brothers to almost be killed by some KFC looking asshole."

Gabriel snorted a laugh as Elijah was confused but felt his heart flutter when she said his name. Castiel kept watch seeing no one following them as Y/N drove.

"To be fair love, they said they could handle it."

"Sam and Dean....mostly Dean are morons never let them take care of a big bag by themselves. Also if you are getting on this macho man kick about this baby thing I am every sure you ain't it."

"You never know my beloved. An Original as dangerous as Elijah Mikaelson, no go....." Y/N cut Ketch off by hanging up then threw the phone out of the truck glaring. Elijah placed his hand on her thigh when both Angels left leaving Y/N and Elijah alone.

"I take it you and this Ketch fellow didn't end well?"

"No. It didn't." Y/N said noticing how dark it was then pulled off the road. Elijah raised an eyebrow as Y/N made sure the truck was hidden then got out.

"Lucky for you. The truck bed is close in."

"Camping are we?" Elijah teased helping her pull out pillows and blankets. Y/N open the back and flopped down on the mat and pillows as Elijah followed after her. Y/N closed the tailgate kicking off her shoes with Elijah also getting comfortable.

"We should get you back to New Orleans fr...." Y/N was cut off by Elijah kissing her and pulling her into his lap as the kiss got more hungry. Y/N pulled away taking her shirt off and Elijah attacked her neck with bites.

"Elijah.....we...shou....." Y/N stopped thinking as her mind turned to mush when Elijah pulled her closer by her hips grinding against her while he moved his mouth long her pulse point smirking.

"I think we can love. It is just the two of us no one around for miles." Elijah said smooth tempting Y/N to give into him. Elijah groaned when she kissed him roughly as she gave in to the vampire for the night.

[waywardsummoner46]

(Un)Pleasantville

A/N: Second one shot, yay! Definitely toying with expanding this as well as my Lucifer!Sam and Michael!Dean fic. I’m open to requests and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (never had one before, oo this is exciting). As ever enjoy the fic and let me know what you think!

Word count ~ 1620

______________________________________________________________

Alright so, not to sugar coat anything but this was an absolute nightmare.

  You, Sam and Castiel had gotten word of a hunt - well more Sam but that’s besides the point - and had left yesterday. You’d paused at a gas station outside of a place called Charming Acres but the dude at the counter said something was off about the place… so naturally (or supernaturally) you all went to check it out. And a dude’s head just completely blew up out of the blue after he came in for his phone?

  Pulling into the town itself, now that was something. You felt as though you’d walked into a 1950s sitcom about some cheesy, lovesick marriage story. Something that you’d like to stay well away from. Consequently, you met a cheesy, lovesick couple called Justin and Cindy Smith who said they’d heard absolute zilch about any deaths and “this is a very close-knit community, nothing goes on here without everyone knowing” blah blah blah.

  Anyway, the strangest thing for you wasn’t the clothes, nor was it the 1950s behaviour, no, it was the fact Justin didn’t seem to recognise what a phone was. You silently ogled at him but he paid no attention to you. So now you definitely thought something was off about this place. 

  After that fateful encounter, you all stumbled upon the local diner “Harrington’s” who was run by the Mayor Chip Harrington and his daughter Sunny. You thought Sunny was a very sweet young woman who honestly looked like someone you’d get along with, however you noticed her head perked up once conversation about Conrad (watermelon head guy) started. Castiel so delicately stated, “Oh no! His head exploded” rendering everyone in the diner speechless.

  The Mayor stuttered for a moment then questioned “Excuse me?”

  “Like a ripe melon in the sun.”

  Whilst this confrontation was happening, Sunny gave you and Sam milkshakes, as Cas had refused earlier, so you were busy trying not to spit it out as you found that conversation hilarious. Chippy boy gave you the information where Conrad was last seen and then you all took off but not before Sam abruptly said “Alright, you know what? We’re leaving, bye.” And that was that.

  When you’d all arrived at the boarding house, a too cheerful Ms. Dowling greeted you at the door, and creepily said she knew you were coming because it’s a small town and things travel fast. Honestly, what is it with these people? From there, and after a brief explanation on why you all were there, she showed you to Conrad’s room and said he moved in a few weeks ago.

  Being your observant self, you came to the conclusion that the bed had been barely used but there were passionate and just plain disgusting letters under the mattress addressed from Sunny (so maybe she wasn’t so innocent, neither were you).

   At the same time Sam suggested you all stay overnight and divulge and investigate more thoroughly in the morning and yet his almost desperate tone of voice put you on edge. Obviously, you were all tired and weary but Sam was just on a whole new level of “oh this is amazing, we should stay here because it’s so cool”. So reluctantly, you and Cas agreed but not before exchanging an uncertain glance with each other, the intuition of a teenager and an angel right?

  Sam and you were sharing a room since Cas had insisted on his own, and instantly something changed with how he addressed you. “(Y/N), please take your shoes off, you’ll ruin this lovely carpet,” and “(Y/N), sweetheart, don’t you think wearing something a little more lady-like would be more appropriate, hm?” 

 All you could do what was sit and stare because not once had Sam ever been this pedantic or pathetic and he certainly had never called you “sweetheart”, so too baffled to engage in intelligent conversation, you went to bed just after Sam as you were too busy burning incredulous holes into the back if his hairy head. Struggling to grasp sleep, you softly whispered a “What the fuck?” and thank god Sam didn’t hear you because you would’ve absolutely hated the outcome.

  The next morning you were woken up quite rudely by an angel banging on your door. Blearily you struggled out of bed and opened the door, rubbing your eyes. “What time is it?” You said.

 “Time to get up, get dressed and Sam-Sam?”

 Noting Castiel’s confusion, you turned quickly in what was once Sam’s direction only to find your lovable older brother had disappeared to Chuck knows where. Great, man hunt at ridiculous o’clock in the morning. Cas immediately raced down to the stairs to seemingly find Ms. Dowling leaving you rushing to change into something more appropriate that pyjamas.

 Descending the stairs you notice the front door open and a frantic looking Castiel waiting in the Impala, waving for you to get in. Shouting a quick “thank you!” to Ms. Dowling, you sprant for the car and sat in Sam’s seat.

 Castiel started the car and you asked “So? We know where he went?” 

  “I’ve been told he left this morning saying he was going on a walk to the diner and wanted a milkshake, but only after screaming at Ms. Dowling who had her eardrums blocked with ear plugs,” he said. You nodded, absorbing the information and pondered why Sam would just up and leave for a milkshake.

  “Cas, you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the milkshake? Or like, this town in general? Because I do and Sam was being a real overbearing douchebag after you left yesterday and acting completely out of character.”

 He didn’t hesitate to nod his head, “I must admit, the strange customs have piqued my interest and Sam did drink quite a lot of that milkshake yesterday so it might be a possibility that there is a supernatural force going on here.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but you’d turned a corner and arrived just before the diner. Castiel left the car and went to inspect whilst you decided a smart move would be to ring Sam’s phone… only to find it ringing in the back of the car. Typical frustrating Winchester. 

  Placing your hands on your head, you massaged your temples and tried to think of any reasonable explanation as to what on earth was going on. 

 You heard the driver’s door being opened and looked over to see Castiel already turning the keys in the ignition. “He’s gone to Mr and Mrs. Smith's house,” was the only explanation you received.

  Suddenly determined, you nodded and said, “Alright, we’re getting somewhere, onward!” So, the car started and picked up speed, as you made your way to the Smith’s house you took a chance to observe the area a bit more.

  It was definitely something outdated and old-fashioned but the people did look happy, even if the shops were called something despicable like “The Rainbow Restaurant". It was very bright and colourful and you didn’t doubt that even if a thunderstorm hit, these people would still be acting on top of the world.

  Upon finally reaching your destination, you took notice of the white-picket fence and the massive garden. The house was huge and definitely unnecessary for only two people. Regardless, you and Cas sauntered up to the door and knocked three times respectively. On the third Cindy opened the door with a clear smile on her face and a very pleasant scent of lavender perfume. “Hello, can I help you?”

 You and Cas glanced at each other before he answered, “First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for your husband's death but we really need to know-”

  He was cut off by a very confused Cindy Smith who said, “My husband? Honey, I think you might be mistaken. My darling husband is in the kitchen, fetching his newspaper. Justin, dear, come say hello!” 

 Again, Cas looked like he wanted to continue but a very familiar, moose-like voice interrupted “Coming darling! Won’t take two slices  of a carrot cake!” It was, unmistakably, Sam.  You gaped and stared questioningly at Cas in silent question. He merely returned your look.

  Moments later, Sam appeared in the doorway. Wearing a pair of glasses. A ponytail. And a fucking cardigan. A cardigan, because why the hell not? He wrapped his hands around Cindy’s waist and looked at us in confusion. Or sorry, at Cas in confusion, but when his gaze landed on you his face went more stern. 

 “Young lady, do you not remember what I said about un lady-like clothing? Because those denim jeans and that ridiculous jumper are hardly suitable for my daughter, little miss. I suggest you get in this house right now and put on that lovely dress your mother bought you,” he basically seethed.

  Now you were definitely the equivalent of a fish, with your wide mouth and wide eyes. You managed to compose yourself a bit before stuttering “Sam?”

 His eye twitched and there was no warning before he grabbed your arm and pulled you in the house then promptly dragged you into the sitting area. He guided you to the sofa on the left of the fireplace and very softly explained, “My sweet honey, I know that this is hard for you, but your mother and I want what’s best for you. Now, be a good girl and wait here until your mother and I have finished our pleasant conversation with our new neighbour, hm?” Then he planted a kiss on your forehead and returned to Cindy’s side to continue conversing with Cas.

  All you could think was: what the fuck?

[chocolatecakecas]

The Start of Forever: Destiel Honeymoon Ficlet

Warmth. That was the first thing Dean’s mind registered as he began to wake up. Then, he heard soft breathing, and felt familiar arms wrapped securely around his waist.

A smile tugged at his lips as the memories from yesterday came flooding back. Blue eyes, soft smiles, tears of joy, tight hugs, music and laughter. The vows, the kiss, the first dance, the speeches, their family, and the love that filled every corner of the room.

Through half-lidded eyes, he surveys his side of the room, landing on the silver and blue ring on his night stand. His eyes snap open.

It was real. They finally did it.

His gaze continues to travel down to the floor where he spots a rumpled dress shirt and pants. Memories from last night come rushing back.

Strong hands, burning hot skin, soft lips, heavy breathing, and those gorgeous blue eyes. His smile grows even wider.

It was all real. A soft gasp escapes his lips as a new sensation washes over him.

This morning, is the first time he's waking up with his husband. The first time he's waking up wrapped in his husband's arms.

Dean slowly shifts until he faces Cas. He gently reaches a hand out, pushing his hair messy hair out of Cas' face.

(Read the rest under the cut)

Dean's eyes trail over his features. Long lashes, the slope of his nose, chapped lips, down to his bare, tanned chest that's littered with bruises (what can Dean say? He just really likes Cas'....everything).

Wow, now who's getting their freak on watching other people sleep, Dean thinks to himself, grinning at the far off memory.

But Dean can't help it because Cas just looks like-well like an angel in his sleep, so gorgeous and peaceful.

But Dean knows all too well that "peaceful" goes right out the window as soon as he opens his eyes. Cas is not a morning person.

He huffs a laugh, thinking about the scene that's been playing out every morning. While Dean's at the stove, Cas will stumble into the kitchen and do his best impression of an octopus, flopping himself on Dean's back for a few moments, then he'll press a kiss behind his ear, grab his coffee (that Dean made, Cas still can't figure out the coffee maker) and slump down in a chair. Then they'll share breakfast together, with soft smiles and warm conversation waiting for Jack to barrel into the kitchen to join them, followed by Sam and Eileen.

It's all very domestic, and it's quickly becoming Dean's new favorite thing. And today will be the first time he does it, with his husband.

And if he wants that to happen together, he better stop staring at said husband, and get moving. With one last look and a kiss to his forehead, he reluctantly pulls himself from Cas' grip. Grabbing his ring, he quietly makes his way down the hall.

Dean immediately gets to work on Cas' favorite, blueberry pancakes, leaving some extra batter aside to just put chocolate chips in, for Jack. He pours it onto the sizzling flat top, and throws the bacon on the other end.

As he waits, Dean's eyes trail to the clock on the wall, and he curses at the time.

They were already off schedule. The price of wedding night bliss.

Today's a big day. And they are nowhere near ready to go yet, their bags aren't even in Baby's truck yet. They had gotten a bit distracted when they were packing a few nights ago (Dean blames Cas and his stupidly tight jeans he wanted to bring along). And if Cas keeps trying to pack his new, incredibly hot clothes, for the sole purpose of riling him up (Dean I need the leather jacket, what if it gets cold at night), they were never going to make it to Florida.

Their honeymoon.

They're staying at beach house for a week, courtesy of the minds of Sam and Eileen. Now he’s gonna be splashing in the ocean with Cas, playing rigged games together on the boardwalk, taking walks on the beach with his husband under the moonlight.

They are finally going to get to stick their toes in the sand.

Dean feels tears begin to prick in his eyes as he starts the coffee pot. He lets out a watery laugh.

Dean never thought he'd get this far. Hell, he didn't even think he'd make it to forty, much less get to spend the rest of his life with his best friend that he's been in love with for years. And now they're married, and they're going on their honeymoon.

His breathe catches in his throat, as he fills Cas' favorite mug.

Over the past few months, Dean has gotten more than he's ever allowed himself to want. He's gotten his freedom, the chance to live the rest of his life, the way he wants, with the people he wants. With Cas, his husband, and their three year old son, who's getting bigger everyday. With his brother and Eileen, soon to be sister in law. With his mom and Bobby, and Charlie, Claire, Jody and Donna, and the rest of his family which seems to be growing, for the first time in his life. And he-

Dean is pulled from his thoughts he feels warmth consumes him. Arms snake around his waist and a chin rests on his shoulder.

A smile stretches across his face.

"Mornin' sunshine".

All Dean gets in return is a squeeze and a contented hum. Cas hangs for a moment, running gentle fingers up and down Dean’s chest. Then he pushes off, grabs his mug and plops down at the table.

Dean plates pancakes for the both of them and turns, pausing at the scene before him.

Cas is propped up on his elbow, staring at Dean with dazed eyes and a relaxed smile on his lips. He's wearing Dean's robe and a pair sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. Dean's breathe hitches when he catches sight of the ring on his finger. 

Dean smiles wider. That's his husband.

Dean quickly sits at the table, passing Cas his plate.

Cas gives a soft smile as a silent thank you, and they begin to eat.

Dean tries to go over the list of things they still need to do, but it's hard to focus, when his new husband is sitting inches away from him, wearing his wedding ring.

Focus Winchester. They need to finish packing the rest of their clothes (can't forget their matching Hawaiian shirts), they need to load up the trunk, double check that they have enough sun screen and beach towels, make sure Jack is settled with Sam and Eileen as they'll be watching him for the week. The thought pulls at Dean's heart, he'll miss his kid, they haven't been all been apart that long, not sin-

A hand wrapping around his own pulls him from his thoughts, and his heart he didn't realize was racing, slows

He looks up and is met with a tilted head and concerned blue eyes (some things never change). Cas squeezes his hand, a question on his lips, but Dean just smiles and squeezes back.

Cas always knows what he needs.

The smile seems to put Cas as ease, and his eyes trail down to their clasped hands, widening a little when he sees Dean's ring.

Cas slowly looks back up, lips parted in shock for a moment, then a smile takes over. And with a gravelly voice that should be illegal, he says

"Good morning, Dean".

And that's what does it.

Dean is sitting in their kitchen, eating blueberry pancakes, holding the hand of the man he married less than twenty four hours ago.

Dean never even allowed himself to dream, and now this has become his reality. Sitting across from his grumpy husband, his first best friend, rings on their fingers.

And he gets to do this, every single day, for the rest of his life. And he ju-

Little feet pound down the hall and Jack bursts into the kitchen greeting them loudly, pulling them from their daze.

With an amused smile, Cas moves first, grabbing Jack's plate and sippy cup, as Jack runs to his seat next to Dean.

They sit together, as Jack bounces in his seat telling them about how much fun he had at the "big party", and that he thinks they should all do it again.

Just as Dean is explaining they'll be having another "big party" for Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen's wedding, the very hungover couple appears in the doorway.

Dean and Cas share a laugh, as they watch them slump down in their chairs, plates piled high.

Dean's gaze travels over his little family as they eat and laugh over last nights events.

If one of them had told him a few months ago that this would be his life, he would have laughed in their face, and assumed they were possessed.

And now here they all sit. His husband, his son, his brother and his sister in law/new best friend, all sitting around a table, the day after his wedding, eating pancakes without a care in the world.

They really did it.

Cas stands and places his plate in the sink.

He drapes his standing body over Dean grabbing his hands, as he rests his head on his shoulder

"I love you, but I'm going to pack without any distractions, so we don't miss honeymoon". Cas whispers, amusement present in his voice.

He presses a soft kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Thank you for the pancakes, my love".

And with that, Dean watches in a daze, heart pounding in his chest, as Cas disppears down the hall, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

My love, that's Cas' new favorite because it always knocks the wind out of Dean, causing his brain to momentarily short circuit.

He slowly looks back to the rest of his family at the table.

Eileen and Jack are signing back and forth (Jack is fluent in ASL, and a ton of other languages, it's the half angel in him, but he actually can't read in any language, go figure), while Sam tries not to fall asleep, with his head lolling in his hand.

Dean stared at them for a moment, taking in the sheer normalcy of the scene before him. As he laughs at Sam jerking himself awake, his thoughts travelled back to Cas, who was packing. Alone. In their bedroom.

And with that Dean was up, plate in the sink, hastily making his way to to their room, to find his husband. They were already off schedule, so he figured could afford to be a little later.

But now, as they drive together late into the night, accompanied by the sounds of Cas' mixtape (the first one Dean made him, it was his favorite after all), Dean thinks about what his life has become.

He glances down at their hands, clasped loosely across the bench, his eyes traveling up to Cas's face, illuminated by the glow of passing street lights.

Soon they'll be on a beach together, soaking up the sun in dorky floral shirts, and pastel shorts. Basking in the bliss of their honeymoon, alongside the love of his life.

Cas turns his head, meeting Dean’s eyes in the darkness. A gentle smile rests on his lips, which Dean automatically mirrors. And giving his hand a squeeze, Dean turns his gaze back to the road ahead.

Today was only day one, and they have the rest of their lives to go.

Tag list:

@theangelwiththewormstache @smiledean @shelikestv @starrynightdeancas @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale

@wikiangela @organicpurplepants @bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy

@martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x

(As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed💛!!!)

[daddy-wentz]

Can I Help You Groom Them

Pairing: Destiel

Warnings: Gay sex, blow job, Dean not getting any, wing!kink, friends to lovers

I couldn't stop watching Cas. I didn't know what it was about him that was making me feel this way, but the concentration on his face was amazing.

"Hey, Cas?" I asked softly.

He looked at me with those huge innocent eyes that he has and I swear I almost moaned. "Yes, Dean?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"I haven't groomed my wings in a few months and I was considering doing it now but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

I thought about that. "It wouldn't make me uncomfortable. I actually want to see them."

He looked astonished. "Would you really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll have to remove some of my clothing. Would that make you uncomfortable, Dean?"

Keep it cool, Winchester. "No, of course not, Cas."

He locks eyes with me, seemingly making sure that I meant that. But of course I did. He was Castiel.

And so our own personal angel, took off his trench coat, tie, and dress shirt, leaving his surprisingly muscular chest. I wasn't really expecting that.

The focused look on his face returned and within seconds a pair of beautiful black wings sprang into existence. I was rendered speechless.

Cas looked concerned. "Are you okay, Dean?"

I mentally shook myself. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm fine. I was just a bit awestruck by them. They're beautiful, Cas." I hesitated. "Uh... can I help you groom them?"

Cas once again looked astonished. "You would really like to help me?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

"I just wasn't expecting you to see them the way you do, I suppose." He looked at me and smiled. "We should go to my room, though." I didn't question this.

When we got in he sat down on his bed, and I clambered up to sit behind him.

"Will you teach what I need to do to groom them?" I asked

His smile returned. "Of course."

He took my hand and lead it to the feathers at the top of one of his wings and let me go just before I touched it.

"Just use your fingers to comb through the feathers and straighten them out."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me because he had already turned back around. I lightly brushed my hand across the top of his right wing, just trying to see if they were as soft as they looked. I barely had a second to comprehend that they were before I heard Cas groan. I immediately became concerned.

"You okay, Cas? Am I hurting you?"

"You are fine, Dean. They're just a little sensitive is all. You may continue if you wish."

And so I began to rake my fingers through them, but it didn't take long for me to notice that Cas was groaning again. At this point I had decided that I would simply trust him to tell me if i was hurting him.

"Dean?"

I stopped. "Yeah, Cas?"

"Your fingers are too dry. There is a gland at the base of each wing that should be secreting oil to help you groom them."

"Okay." I felt around for them and found them, and as he had said, they were definitely leaking. I gathered up some of the oil and began to apply it to his wings, but then he did something I wasn't expecting. He moaned. Loudly. I only paused for a second, then decided that playing it off would be the best move in this situation. I continued applying the oil, and I could tell that something was happening in his head, but I didn't want to stop.

Once I got to the downy feathers at the base, he gave a particularly loud moan and whirled around faster than any mere mortal could. I must have looked shocked, because I saw regret flood his face.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. I've just never let anyone else groom them before, and it's giving me these feelings. It doesn't feel the same as whenever I do it."

"Is it bad?" I asked tentatively.

He smiled again. "No, it's not, Dean. It feels really good."

I began my work on the second wing after he had turned back around.

"So, you said it feels good," I started. He nodded his agreement. "Feels good how?"

For a second I thought I had crossed a line because he didn't say anything. Just as I was about to apologize, he spoke.

"Look down, Dean."

I was confused. "Down where?"

In his profile, I saw him blush. "My pants, Dean."

I looked down and saw the obvious strain in his dress pants. I was surprised. I didn't I would ever be able to do anything that would turn on the angel.

"Do you want me to help you with that, Cas?"

He stopped moving for a second. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

I almost laughed. "That wouldn't make me uncomfortable, Cas. Just let me finish this wing."

He nodded, and after I had finished to Cas's satisfaction, he turned around to face me. I had about half a second to comprehend this before he roughly pressed his lips to mine. I was surprised for that exact same amount of time before I kissed him back. I slid my tongue across his bottom lip, wordlessly asking for his permission to enter. He granted it. I got the feeling he wasn't very familiar with the idea of gay sex. I flipped him over on his bed so I was on top. I could feel him hardening against me, but I wanted to see just how turned on I could get him, since I had wanted this since I first saw him.

And so, the first thing I did was slide my tongue against his. I felt him groan into the kiss as I began to explore every corner of his mouth with my tongue. But that wasn't all I had planned to get him worked up. Continuing my work in his mouth, I also reached behind him and gave the feather a slight, experimental tug. It seemed to have the desired effect on him, because he pulled back to mewl a bit while he bit my lower lip. I couldn't stop the slight moan that escaped me at the feeling of it.

He started to unbutton my flannel, and I helped him with the last few buttons. I shrugged out of it once we finished unbuttoning it. He didn't even pause to think before he pulled my undershirt over my head. I decided that I rather enjoyed Cas when he let go a bit.

It astonished it me a bit when we fought to get the others pants off first. Finally, Cas used his grace to remove every other article of clothing between us, never breaking the kiss that we had restarted at some point after he had gotten my shirt off. I could feel his hardness against my thigh, and I ran my hand down his chest to grip it in my hand and slowly stroke it. I pulled back to see his face while I did this, and it was a beautiful sight to behold. His head was tilted back against the duvet and I couldn't stop myself from shuffling down to settle my head between his legs.

He looked down at me with a slack jaw, but he threw his head back again when I ran my tongue over his slit. The moan he let out then was borderline pornographic, and he crossed that line when I groaned against him in response to the first one.

I adored the look on his face when I teased him, but I couldn't wait to see it when I made him cum.

And so, I decided that I would. At first. I only took the tip in my mouth. I gave one hard suck and reached around to tangle my fingers in his feathers. He moaned so loud that he practically screamed. I had to pull off for a second so that I could bite his thigh. Once I was sure that I wouldn't bite his dick, I jumped back up to take him in all the way until I could feel him at the back of my throat.

At that point, he was squirming around so much that I had to hold him down by his waist. I kept running my fingers through the softness of his feathers, because I couldn't get enough of the feeling of it, and it seemed like he couldn't either. He wasn't even moaning anymore, he was just gasping a lot, like he was feeling too much and he couldn't catch his breath. Occasionally, he would let out a whine, but that was only if I gave a particularly hard suck.

I could feel his legs shaking, and I knew he was close. There was one more thing I wanted him to do before he got to that point. I pulled off.

His head shot up to look at me.

"What is it, Dean?"

I cracked my best shit-eating grin. "You close, Cas?" Like I didn't already know.

"Yes, Dean," he practically growled at me.

"You wanna cum, Cas?" I purred at him.

He just glared at me.

"Use your words."

He did growl this time.

"Yes, Dean."

I hummed against his inner thigh.

"Beg for it."

His breath hitched in his throat, all of his anger disappearing.

"What?"

My smirk grew deeper. "You heard me. Beg for it."

He let out a little whine. "Please, Dean. Please, finish this."

I chuckled darkly. "Little more, Cas. Come on, I know you can do it.

He let out a louder whine. "Please, Dean." I tugged on some of his feathers, causing him to damn near scream. "Ugh. Please, Dean, PLEASE!" That's more like it, I thought to myself.

"Oh, and, uh, one more thing, Cas."

He whimpered.

"Look at me when you cum." I locked eyes with him to let him know that I was serious. He nodded frantically.

As I went back to where I was, sucking off a desperate sounding Cas, I reached back behind him to begin stroking his feathers again, making his hands shoot to my hair and these sexy, wanton noises to leave his mouth, not even meaning to let me know how close he was. I watched his head drop back against the duvet again, but I had my rules. I untangled one of my hands from his feathers to tap on his stomach to get his eyes back on mine. They seemed more blue than usual, but that was probably because his pupils were practically pinpoints from how close he was. They were glassy, but they could still see me and comprehend everything I was doing, that much I could tell. With his eyes back on me, I returned my hands to his feathers, tugging hard to get him over the edge as fast as I could.

When he came, it was glorious. His eyes widened, his mouth went slack, he barely managed to keep his eyes on me, but he did, he was alternating between panting, whining, and moaning my name. His seed shot down my throat in a total of three bursts, after which he pushed me off of him and let his head fall back as he dealt with the aftershocks. I crawled up to him to kiss his forehead and actually, literally pass out before he was even done, because blow jobs make me exhausted. Can't say I regret it though. I'm glad Cas let me help him groom.

Tag list: @fanddoms4love @draco-slytherin-malfoy @lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently (u don't HAVE to reblog dude.)

[joviewinchester]

Hey! So this is a Supernatural My Babysitter’s a Vampire crossover requested by @the-fifth-marauder101 The request wasn’t super specific so I kind of just ran with it. Jack’s a bit younger in this for the sake of the story. And I know that the timeline is off and stuff but like don’t @ me about it please. I know it’s off. Also this is a reader insert because, ya know, that’s literally all I write. Lol, but anyways, I hope you like it, and keep those requests coming!

Another school. Another town. Another day. That’s how it always went. Avoid making friends at all costs. Well, she had Jack at least.

“What are we here for again?” Y/N asked sighing.

“Your dad said something about vampires or werewolves. They don’t know what it is yet. Said something’s off with this one.” Jack replied glancing over at a group of whispering teens.

“What do you think their deal is?” Erica asked eyeing both Y/N and Jack.

“They don’t look like siblings, at the very least not biological ones.” Sarah responded.

“I don’t know, but can I just say, the girl is hot. Like hotter than anyone I’ve ever laid eyes on. Like if I had to choose between her and a young Carrie Fisher, I’d choose her.” Benny said.

“No way. You’re joking right?” Ethan asked.

“No. I never joke about a babe.” Benny said seriously.

“I don’t know. Personally I’d love to sink my teeth into either of them.” Erica smirked.

Y/N looked from the group to Jack in confusion. “Is it just me or do we have a literal fanclub?”

“I wouldn’t call them a fanclub. They’re just…unusually interested.” Jack responded.

“Should we introduce ourselves? Don’t get me wrong. I know we probably won’t stay for very long but…I just…it would be nice to make friends for once, you know?” She asked Jack as she looked at them, or more specifically looked at Benny.

“I mean, how could it hurt right?” They approached the group.

“Dude they’re coming over here.” Benny said while slapping Ethan’s arm.

“Yeah. I know. I can see dude.”

“Hi.” Y/N said shyly.

Jack stepped in at that point. “Hello. My name is Jack and this is my friend Y/N.” He introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Sarah and this is Ethan, Benny, and Erica.” Sarah smiled.

Benny had a dumbstruck look on his face. “Excuse him. He gets nervous around girls he thinks are pretty.” Ethan said.

Benny looked at him with a glare. “Dude.” He whisper shouted at him. They then had a small slap fight.

“Alright you two are embarrassing yourselves. Hi, as Sarah said, I’m Erica, and I would love to take you under my wing, Y/N was it? Please let me give you a makeover tonight. You have so much potential if we removed the flannel and the old leggings.”

“Sorry. She’s straightforward like that. She doesn’t mean in a rude way or anything she just thinks your pretty and wants to do your makeup.” Sarah said.

“I guess I could come over.” Y/N said nervously. Jack have her a look and lowered his voice.

“Y/N, Dean said to come straight home after school, and that we can’t go out. You can’t. If you leave on my watch, Dean and Cas will, what is it that you say? ‘rip me a new one’” He quoted.

“Who’s Dean?” Ethan asked.

“My dad. He’s just a little bit overprotective, and if you don’t want me to go out without you, then just come with me.” Y/N said.

“So, you two like live together?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah. Our dads work together. It’s a whole thing.” Y/N said.

“Anyways, I’ll talk to him if he’s home and if not I’ll text him and let him know it shouldn’t be a big deal.” She said.

“Great. Sarah you’re coming too right?” Erica asked.

“Actually, I have to babysit Ethan and Jane tonight.”

“No problem we’ll just go over there.”

“Sarah’s your babysitter?” Jack asked.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but it’s only because my mom doesn’t trust me to babysit my little sister. Benny you’re still coming over to play that new zombie game right?”

“Like I would miss that.”

“Think we have room for another player?” Ethan asked.

“Not if you’re talking about Rory.” Benny complained.

“I’m clearly talking about Jack, Benny.”

Sarah and Erica both rolled their eyes at their antics. “Come on, Y/N. We’ll walk you to class. Honestly, I swear you geeks almost scared her off.” Erica said.

Y/N waved goodbye at Benny, Ethan, and Jack, linking her arms with Erica and Sarah.

The bell then rang. “Do you guys know where Mr. G’s class is?” Jack asked.

“Yeah we have him for first period too. Follow us.” Ethan said.

School seemed to go by like a breeze with their new friends by their sides. Before they knew it, they were all heading out the doors.

“Alright. Jack and I need to head out, but we’ll meet you guys at Ethan’s house later. See ya.” Y/N said. There was a series of byes and Jack and Y/N hopped into the Jeep they had jacked from the bunker.

Erica left shortly after that saying something about how she needed to pack some clothes and makeup for later.

“I should give her a love potion.” Benny said.

“Do you remember how that turned out last time? I still have nightmares.” Ethan shuddered.

“Benny, don’t let this get to your head, but I think you might actually have a chance with her. She stared at you throughout the entirety of biology class. You should just ask her to see a movie with you or something.” Sarah advised.

“Yes. I need to be more like Han Solo. God, she’d be such a pretty Princess Leia.” Benny sighed dreamily.

“Okay lover boy. You wanna stand out here all day? We’re practically the only ones still here. Your grandma is gonna get mad if you make her wait any longer.” Sarah said glancing at the SUV Benny’s grandma sat in.

“Right. See you guys later!” Benny called.

“Bye!” They said in sync.

“I’ll see you later?” Ethan asked.

“Duh. If I want to get paid I don’t really have a choice.” Sarah joked. Ethan waved awkwardly and jogged to his mom’s car.

“Dorks.” She muttered to herself a slight smile on her face.

Y/N and Jack entered the place one of their hunter friends had loaned them and saw Sam researching by himself.

“Hey, Sam! Do you know when dad is gonna be back?” Y/N asked.

“Um…not really, but it probably won’t be for a few hours. He and Cas are interviewing at the moment. Why? Do you need something? Maybe I can help.”

“Well, Jack and I were wondering if we could go over to a friend’s house around seven ish? We’re just hanging out, nothing big.”

Sam looked up from his laptop. “You guys made friends?” He asked.

“Yeah. I know. I know. We probably won’t stay here, but it’s hard avoiding people everywhere we go and they’re really nice.” Y/N explained.

“Y/N, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I think it’s good that you guys are making friends, and I think it’s fine if you go out as long as you’re back by 10:30 or Dean will flip.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You’re the best uncle in the world.”

“Do you need any help with research?” Jack asked.

“No. It’s fine. You probably have homework to do.” Sam replied. Jack then headed to his room with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Sam?” Y/N asked sitting across from him.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“You know that you can tell me anything Y/N.”

“I don’t…I don’t think that I can keep doing this.” She sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“The whole moving towns constantly and the saving people hunting things…I just don’t want to keep moving around. I know that it’s stupid. You’re saving the world. All of you, but I feel like I haven’t even lived. I’ve never really gotten to stop and smell the roses you know?”

“Y/N, it’s not like we can just leave you in a town by yourself. You’re only sixteen, but you’re in luck. We’re going to be here awhile. There are multiple cases in this one town and they all seem different. I don’t know what’s going on here. It’s like a Supernatural beacon.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with research?” Y/N asked.

“No. You have homework too I’m assuming.”

“I finished all of mine in study hall. I’m available for four hours.”

Sam sighed. “Fine. You can help. I’m just looking through lore right now to try and figure out the first case.”

After about three and a half hours of researching, they both still came up with nothing. Y/N groaned.

“Are you sure there isn’t like more than one type of vampire?” She asked.

“Not according to any hunters I’ve met.” Sam said.

“Well, we didn’t think angels existed at one point and look at Cas. Look at Jack. We got an angel and a nephilim living in our house. Not to mention me. I’m a freak of nature.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. If we haven’t encountered one before, I don’t know why we would now.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go upstairs and grab a few things, then Jack and I are leaving. I’ll see you later Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname but told her goodbye nonetheless and went back to his research. Y/N grabbed her small bag that contained hand sanitizer, chapstick, lotion, a first aid kit and a pocket knife and knocked on Jack’s door.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Yeah let’s go before we’re stopped by Dean and Cas getting home.” Jack said.

They drove over to Ethan’s house and everyone else had already arrived. Y/N knocked on the door to see Benny with his mouth full of marshmallows. Y/N gasped in excitement.

“Are you guys seeing who can fit the most marshmallows in their mouth?! I bet I can win! I want in on this!” She exclaimed rushing past Jack and in the door.

“What’s the record I’m trying to beat?” Y/N asked Jane.

“It’s unclear. They argue all the time about which got the highest amount and what the highest amount is. I think it’s 176. You don’t need to waste your time here though. You should come play dress up with me and Sarah. I promise it’ll be much more fun.” Jane ranted grabbing her hand.

“Come on Y/N it’ll be way more fun.” Sarah joked. Y/N shrugged.

“You know what? Why not let’s go. You coming, Erica?”

“Playing ‘dress up’ with you is literally the only reason why I’m here. Of course I’m coming.” Erica replied grabbing her bag. They all rushed upstairs leaving the boys behind.

The marshmallows fell out of Benny’s mouth as he was watching Y/N go upstairs. Ethan fist pumped in victory.

“I win!” He yelled through a mouthful of marshmallows.

“Hey! Dude that is so not fair!”

“It’s completely fair! Just don’t get distracted next time and you might win.” Ethan said back smugly.

“Whatever. You guys wanna watch Star Wars or something?” Benny asked.

“I don’t know. Y/N might get mad if we watch it without her.” Jack half joked. Benny looked at him in exasperation.

“She likes Star Wars too?! What’s next?!”

Meanwhile, upstairs Erica had already began using Y/N as a human doll.

“Those dorks are literally not going to know what to do with themselves when they see you.” Erica praised.

“You look really pretty, Y/N. Dare I say, prettier than Debbie Dazzle.” Jane complimented.

“Is that a compliment? What’s a Debbie Dazzle?” Y/N asked Sarah.

“You mean you never had a Debbie Dazzle doll growing up?” Sarah asked. Y/N shook her head no and thought of her childhood.

“We…well, we’ve always moved around a lot, and I matured earlier than most kids. Never really got into that stuff, besides wouldn’t have anyone to play with it with anyways.”

“What about your dad or your mom?” Erica asked while brushing Y/N’s hair.

“My mom?” She asked mostly to herself. It’s not like she could straight up say that her mom was God’s sister. “My mom left us when I was young. I barely remember her.” She said. When she was born she automatically aged up to thirteen, similarly to Jack.

That was the end of that conversation. They didn’t want to pry into her personal life. Even if it felt like they’d known her for years, the truth of it was that they were practically strangers.

“Okay. All done.” Erica smiled. Y/N looked in the mirror Jane had in her room. She was shocked to say the least to see what was staring back at her. For the first time in her life, she felt normal. She felt like a regular teenage girl, not a demi-god who hunted monsters.

“Wow. I look-“

“Beautiful.” Sarah, Erica, and Jane all said at once.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2784047

“I was gonna say normal, but yeah.” She laughed.

There were a few seconds of silence then Y/N suddenly jumped out of her seat. “Is that the Star Wars theme song?!” She exclaimed. She started heading downstairs.

“What a cute little nerd.” Erica said.

“Can we go downstairs to get a snack?” Jane asked Sarah.

“Sure but you have to be in bed by 9:00 remember?” “9:30?” “Fine.”

When Y/N got downstairs she plopped on the couch in between Jack and Benny.

Benny glanced at her and did a double take. “Woah. Erica did a really good job…not that you weren’t pretty before. You’re really pretty, either way. I’m so sorry. I’m totally rambling again.”

“Are you done?” She asked jokingly.

“Yeah…well, actually,” she laughed. “So no then?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go see a movie sometime…with me. I’ll even suffer through the new Dusk if you want.”

“No way are we watching Dusk. Pick me up Friday. We’re watching the new Avengers movie.”

Benny elbowed Ethan. “Dude. Did you hear that?”

“Yes, Benny, congratulations.” Y/N’s phone abruptly began to ring.

“Shoot. I gotta take this.” She got up and walked into the other room.

“Hello?” She asked. “Y/N? Where the hell are you? I told you and Jack to come home and stay home after school. Sam is not your dad. I am. You could’ve at least called and asked.” Dean grumbled.

“And you would’ve told me no and I would’ve been mad and you would’ve been mad and it would just not be fun at all so…”

“Are there boys there?” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Does is matter?”

“Yes. It matters a lot.”

“You don’t know. I could be a lesbian.” She stated.

“Cut the crap, kid. You and Jack need to get your sorry asses home or youre grounded. Both of you.”

Y/N ignored that statement. “Well, I’d love to talk more, but I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Y/N Elaine Winchester I swear to Chuck if you hang up…”

“Calm down. We’ll be home in like twenty minutes. Bye.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

“Jack, we have to go. Dean is flipping out.” She said walking back into the living room.

“Did you just refer to your dad by his first name?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah I did. Because I’m mad. It’s a symbol of defiance…even if he can’t hear it. Anyways, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Y/N, with annoyance, walked into the kitchen and said goodbye to Erica, Sarah, and Jane as well, before leaving with Jack trailing behind her.

Once they got home, they were greeted by all three hunters still sitting at the table researching.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Dean asked in disgust.

“Clothes. Goodnight. Good riddance. Love you partially and all that jazz. I’m going to bed. I have school.” She said running upstairs not letting anyone else get a word in.

The three men sighed. “Were there boys there?” Dean asked Jack seriously as he had Y/N on the phone.

“Yeah. Just two. Y/N has a date Friday.” Jack responded casually.

“She what?!”

“Anyways goodnight. Good riddance. Love you. And all that jazz as Y/N would say. See you tomorrow.” Jack repeated charging up the stairs.

[expectingtofly]

Sign Here

AU-Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Dean is a UPS Driver, Cas and Dean are idiots, Gabe is trying to help

4k (oops this fic got long)

also posted on ao3

written for Day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 2k Followers Celebration <3 <3

Castiel knelt on the grass to pull up some stubborn weeds in the garden lining the front of his newly-bought house. The previous inhabitants had left behind a tangled mess of rose bushes and weeds, and after a week of unpacking boxes, he was happy to finally have time to spend outside. One of the perks of moving from an apartment to a small bungalow—finally space for a garden. Although, he was sure the inside of his house would soon become just as packed with plants as his apartment had been.

Engrossed as he was in weeding and planning what flowers he would plant to expand the garden, he didn’t hear someone approach until a shadow fell over the dirt. 

Startling, he looked up to see a man standing on the walkway next to him. “What—oh.” By the man’s clothes—brown collared shirt and shorts—and the package he was holding, Castiel realized he was a UPS delivery driver. “Hello.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the driver said, fighting back a smile.

Castiel stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “It’s alright.” 

The man held out a package. “I was gonna deliver this to your front door, unless you want to take it now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking it, Castiel looked down at the label, trying to remember what he had ordered. Something for his kitchen, probably.

“Did you just move in?” the UPS driver asked. His eyes were very green, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Freckles everywhere, Castiel realized, seeing the way they lightly spotted his bare arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Realizing he was staring, Castiel reddened, glanced down at the package in his hands. “Uh, yes, I did. Last week.”

“Welcome to Bloomfield, then.” He nodded at the rose bushes. “Nice garden you got here.”

“You don’t have to lie, it’s a mess.” The driver laughed and Castiel smiled a little. “It’s not much now. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it up soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, see how things develop.” The man took a step back and gestured to the UPS truck on the street. “I’ve got other packages to deliver. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Castiel said, watching him leave. Kneeling down to continue yanking out the prickly weeds, he smiled. It was nice to meet someone friendly; he hadn’t gotten to meet many people yet with the chaos of moving in. Of course, he thought, glancing back at the UPS truck as it rumbled down the street, it didn’t hurt that the driver was extremely attractive as well. 

***

The next week, Castiel was hanging up art prints in his living room when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was for a package he’d ordered, he took his time getting to the door, straightening the print on the wall before weaving through the cardboard boxes he still hadn’t unpacked. 

When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to see the green-eyed UPS driver standing on his porch holding the package.

The man’s face brightened. “Hi. Got a delivery for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I thought you delivery drivers just dropped off the package and disappeared.”

The UPS driver laughed. Such a nice laugh, Castiel thought. “Right, yeah, that’s what we normally do. But, uh, we have a new policy. Have to get a signature for packages.” He handed over a clipboard and pen, pointing to the line at the bottom of the page. "Just sign here."

“Oh. Alright.” Castiel took the clipboard and signed his name. When he handed it back, he saw the man glance at the signature. “Castiel,” he supplied.

“Cool name. I’m Dean.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Having been occupied all week with moving in and subsequently starved for conversation, he added, “You’re one of the first people I’ve met so far. The other being a cashier at that grocery store down the street.”

“Still getting settled in?”

“Yes. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I hate unpacking. It never seems to end.”

“Yeah, moving’s a bitch. You liking the place so far, though?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. Much improved from the apartment where I was living before.”

“God, I bet. I share an apartment with my brother—don’t get me wrong, I like living with him, but our landlord’s an asshole.” He gestured to the right. “Garden’s looking great.”

“Thank you. I just bought petunias, but I haven’t had a chance to plant them.” He pointed at the small brown box Dean was still holding. “That should be new gardening gloves in there.”

“Oh, right, your package.” Dean’s face looked a little red as he handed the box over. “Um, well, I should be on my way. See ya.” He stepped off the porch with a wave and Castiel waved back before going inside. 

As he unpacked his belongings, he realized filling a house was harder than he’d thought. There were so many household items he was missing. Perhaps a trip to the store would be faster, but ordering online was easier—or so he told himself as he opened his laptop.  

I’m only trying to save myself time, he reasoned, though inwardly he might have been hoping Dean would deliver the package. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he found himself growing more impatient over the next few days. Then, one afternoon as he organized his silverware drawer, he heard the doorbell ring. He practically ran to the front door, then paused and steadied himself before opening it, waiting a few seconds so it wouldn’t seem like he’d rushed over.  

It might not even be Dean, he chastised himself as he unlocked the door. 

Dean smiled at him when he swung the door wide.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to sound casual and hide his smile.

“Hi.” He looked to be about Castiel’s age. What were the chances that someone this attractive was single? “Got another package. A heavy one this time.” 

Pushing away those thoughts, Castiel took it from him and placed it inside on the floor. “Thank you. Don’t I have to sign something?”

“Uh, shit, yeah.” Dean handed over the clipboard and pen, and as Castiel signed, he nodded at the package. “Something else for the garden?”

Castiel shook his head, handing back the clipboard. “A mixer. I thought maybe I could try my hand at baking. My mom sent me a few of her recipes.”

Dean’s eyes brightened. “You ever want inspiration, there’s a diner, other side of town, a few blocks from where I live, that makes the best pie. Makes them fresh every morning.”

“I’ll have to go sometime.” He stopped short of saying that maybe he’d see Dean there, not wanting to sound too excited at the prospect.

Maybe I should order more things for the kitchen, he thought, shutting the door after saying goodbye to Dean. Or a new bath mat, and curtains, maybe. The boxes he had yet to unpack scolded him by their presence, but he ignored them. If receiving new items meant talking to a friendly face, who could blame him? 

***

“You sure get a lot of packages,” Dean remarked the next week when Castiel opened the door. 

Castiel reddened. “Turns out it’s hard to fill a whole house.” 

“I’m not complaining, you’re the one giving me a job to do.” Dean handed over the package. “What’s it this week?”

“A watering can.”

“You really like to garden, don’t you?” Dean gestured to the flowers and plants lining the front of the house. “I mean, you’ve added a lot since moving in.”

“Yes, well, I find it’s a wonderful way to wind down after work.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. Any spare time I have, I work on my car.”

Castiel glanced at the UPS truck, because he hadn’t really considered Dean driving anything else. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of running into Dean somewhere else, at the diner, at the grocery store. He wondered how Dean dressed when he wasn’t in his uniform, what else he did in his free time.

Dean followed his gaze to the street and gestured to the UPS truck. “This thing, it’s crap. No AC, no radio. What do you drive?” He glanced at Castiel’s driveway. “That a Lincoln Continental? 78? 77?”

Castiel caught the derisive tone in his voice. “78. And I like it,” he added defensively.

Dean smiled, raising his hands. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. You ever need work done on it, let me know, I can help.” His eyes widened a little at his own words. “I mean, you don’t need to, I just meant, if you want. I’m good at that stuff.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the offer.” Inwardly, he cursed his car for being so reliable. Maybe the engine light would turn on and he could take him up on his offer. Or maybe Dean was only being friendly and didn’t really mean it. 

When Dean headed back to his truck and Castiel shut the door, he realized Dean hadn’t asked him to sign anything. Maybe he’d only forgotten. 

***

“Gotten acquainted with the locals?” Gabriel asked a few nights later when he called to see how Castiel was settling in.

“I talked with one of my neighbors yesterday. Arla. She’s eighty-two and owns three cats.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Castiel glanced at the mixer. “And, uh, I did meet someone else. Someone my age, not a neighbor. Dean.”

“Met someone? Like went on a date with—”

“No, he works for the UPS, he’s been delivering my packages.” He was interrupted by Gabriel laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“So instead of going out and meeting real people, you’re making friends with the delivery guy.”

“Dean is real,” Castiel protested. “He’s very kind and friendly. And helpful. He’s told me about places to check out in town and complimented my garden—”

“Damn, Cas, sounds like you really like this guy.”

“No, he’s just a nice person,” Castiel insisted. By Gabriel’s laughter, he knew he wasn’t being believable. “Alright, fine. I enjoy talking to him.” He wasn’t going to tell Gabriel that seeing Dean was becoming his favorite part of the week.

“He single?”

“Um. Yes.” He may or may not have asked Arla if she knew Dean, and may or may not have learned that she couldn’t believe “a charming young man like him is still single.” Oh, and that if she were a younger woman, she would be ordering packages left and right to flirt with him when he delivered. Castiel did not appreciate that last part, even if Arla had no idea how close to the truth she’d struck. I’m not flirting, he argued inwardly.

“Well, are you going to make a move or not?” When Castiel didn’t respond right away, Gabriel added, “Right, I forgot who I’m talking to.”

“I might,” Castiel protested. “But we only just met. And I don’t even know if he likes me. He’s only doing his job.”

“May as well ask him out, see what he says.” 

Castiel sighed. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I only just moved here.”

“Well, you snooze, you lose, Cas. Don’t miss out on something just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

I’m not scared, he repeated to himself when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He was being reasonable. But maybe Gabriel was right. Dean had to be somewhat interested—delivery guys didn’t just stick around to talk after delivering a package. Maybe he’d test the waters, try to see if Dean was truly interested or just being friendly.

***

A few days later, he was watering his petunias when Dean got out of his truck with another package.

“Hey, Cas!” he called. 

“Hello, Dean.” Setting down his water can, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thank you,” he said, taking the narrow box from Dean. Before he lost his courage, he spoke up, “I, um, made a pie this morning.” Whether he’d made it specifically to offer to Dean was something he’d never admit to anyone, much less himself. “I was wondering if you wanted a slice? You can tell me if it’s good or not.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Shit, Cas, really? Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab it.”

When he returned to the doorway with a paper plate covered in foil, he caught Dean looking inside his house. 

“It’s still a mess in here,” Castiel said, handing the plate over. “I’ve been kinda busy with work.”

“No, yeah, totally, no judgement.” He peeled back the foil and inhaled. “Fuck, I’m starving. This looks amazing.” Picking up the slice, he took a bite. “Mmm,” he said, rolling his eyes back. 

“Good?” Castiel asked, amused. 

“So good,” Dean said, his voice muffled. He swallowed. “You’re a natural.” 

“Thank you. I have more, if you’d like it.”

“Don’t tempt me. Yes.” 

Grinning, Castiel went back inside and packaged up two more slices, brought them to Dean.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said. “Seriously.” He juggled the plates in his hands. “So, where do you work?”

Castiel leaned on the doorway. “I work here. I’m an editor. I do freelance work.”

“Dude, that’s cool. Nice that you get to work from home.” Looking down at his watch, he swore quietly. “Sorry, I need to keep moving. I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.” 

“Oh,” Castiel said, disappointed, straightening. “Alright. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, this was a nice break.” He stepped off the walkway. “Thanks for the pie.”

“You’re welcome.” Ask him for his number. Ask him if he would like to go out. But he kept quiet and watched Dean cross the yard back to his truck. 

***

That night, Castiel ordered a set of bookends shaped like trees. He checked his email the next few days, tracking the package. On the day it was to be delivered, he had to run errands and got stuck in traffic. When he pulled into his driveway, he saw a package sitting on the front porch. Shit. He’d missed Dean. 

Grabbing his bag of groceries, he walked over and picked up the package with his free hand. Then he noticed a note taped to the top. 

Sorry I missed you, it read. The pie was incredible.

Castiel smiled. 

***

Sunlight streamed through his living room windows as Castiel organized his books on his bookshelves. He was just pushing his new bookends into place when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he went to the front door and looked out through the window. Dean?

“Hello, Dean,” he said, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting a package today.” 

“Oh, really?” Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile as he turned around the cardboard box in his hands. Bold black letters were written across the front: SAY HI TO DEAN FOR ME.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snatched the box out of Dean’s hands. “What? I don’t know how—” He scanned the box for the label. Gabriel, he realized. “It’s my brother,” he explained. “I was telling him about you, he must’ve sent me this to embarrass me, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s smile won out. “No, it’s fine, that’s kinda hilarious.” He shifted his stance, the wooden porch boards creaking. “You, uh, you told him about me?”

Castiel’s head snapped up from glaring at Gabe’s name on the return label. “Um, yes,” he faltered. “Well, I was just telling him that I met someone, and it’s been nice to, uh, uh, have a friend.” 

Friend? He hardly knew Dean, for fuck’s sake. For all he knew, he was just a random person Dean spoke to occasionally on his route, no more important than Arla or any of the other people he delivered to.

But Dean smiled. “Yeah, uh, me too. I mean, I like meeting people on my route, just makes the day a lot better when I get to stop and talk.” He reddened a little and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his boots.

“I hope I don’t keep you from your other deliveries,” Castiel said.

Dean waved his hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I get the other ones done fast so I can spend more time here.” He cut himself off and reddened even further, as if realizing what he was admitting. 

So, Dean was deliberately trying to see him, talk to him. Castiel felt his face heat up as well. “I’m sure delivering packages all day can be very boring,” he offered. 

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, ya know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure this neighborhood’s newest resident is doing okay.” He grinned. “Think of me as the welcome committee.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean nodded again, and they stood there awkwardly for a few long moments. Castiel glanced back down at the box, Gabe’s words ringing in his head. Ask him out, see what he says.

“I’ll get on my way,” Dean said, stepping back. He smiled a little. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“I will.” Maybe he should just blurt it out. Dean had said he enjoyed stopping by here. But maybe he only meant that in a friendly way. Castiel had called him a friend, after all. He chickened out. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Dean walked away and Castiel glared down at the box. 

“Not helpful,” he told it.

***

“Gabe, I hate you.”

“What? I was just trying to spark conversation between you two—”

“I hate you. I can hold a conversation well enough myself, thank you very much. You only made things awkward.” He paused before adding, “Dean says hi, by the way.”

Gabriel cheered and Castiel pulled his phone away from his ear. “So it worked? You asked him out?”

“Um...” Castiel pulled at a rip on his gardening jeans. “No.”

“Cassie!” Gabriel whined. “I did all that work for nothing? What’s the holdup? Ask him out.”

Castiel groaned. “I will. Eventually. But, I mean, can he even say yes? He’s on the job—”

“Cas, he’s already taking time out of his workday to talk to you. Pretty sure he’ll say yes, even if he’s working. Stop making excuses.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” He only said it to get Gabriel off his back, but his palms grew sweaty even thinking about it. 

“You better. Keep me updated.”

“Only if you never pull a prank like that again.”

“I can’t promise anything.” 

***

Seated at his desk, Castiel frowned at an awkwardly worded sentence that refused to form itself into any coherency. Was the past tense of lie lay or laid? Why couldn’t he ever remember? 

The doorbell ringing drew his attention and, grateful for the break, he saved the document he was editing and got up. Going to the front door, he wondered if he had any left-over pie to give Dean and drag out their time together in the doorway.

Opening the door, he began to say hello, then paused. A UPS delivery man was walking away to his truck, a package at Castiel’s feet on his front porch. 

“Wait!” Castiel called, stepping outside. The man turned—not Dean. Someone he’d never seen before. “Who the hell are you?”

The man looked startled. “I, uh, I’m a delivery—”

“No, sorry.” Castiel flushed. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean?” The man frowned. “I don’t know who that is. We all got new routes a few days ago. He must be on another route now.”

Castiel’s heart sank. “Oh.” Another route? He looked down at the package. “Don’t I have to sign something?”

“No, you’re all good. We don’t require signatures.” The man continued to his truck and Castiel picked up the package. A lattice pastry roller to make more intricate pie crusts. He’d thought Dean might appreciate the effort.

Shutting the door, he stood in the foyer for a moment. So, Dean was gone. Why hadn’t he ever asked for Dean’s number? He’d had plenty of opportunities.

It’s a small town, he reasoned. I’ll see him again, I have to. He knew Dean lived on the other side of town, maybe if he drove around there, kept an eye out—

Alright, stop, he told himself. He was starting to sound crazy. He dropped the package off on the kitchen table. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

The next day, Castiel was seated at his desk, sending an email to a client, when the doorbell rang. 

His pulse sped up, and instinctively he rose from his chair. Then he remembered that Dean didn’t deliver to his house anymore. Sighing, he sat back down. 

He’d been trying not to think of it, but every other item in his house—the mixer, the bookends, the pastry roller—only reminded him of Dean and brought down his mood. 

Why didn’t I take Gabe’s advice? he bemoaned inwardly. That was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it looked like Gabe had been right. He’d lost his chance.  

Staring at his computer screen, he tried to focus on his work, but the distraction had ruined his focus. At least I’ll save money, he reasoned ruefully, now that he had no excuse for making random purchases. 

The doorbell rang again and he lifted his head, frowning. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was Arla, coming over to say hello.  

Rising, he went to the front door and tried to remember the name of that diner Dean had told him about. Maybe he’d stake out there on a weekend, see if Dean showed up. Or was that creepy?

Definitely creepy, he decided with a sigh, opening the door. Then he froze.

“Dean?”

Standing on his front porch—this time in jeans and a black t-shirt, holding a potted fern—was Dean. He smiled hesitantly, almost nervously. “Hi, Cas.” 

“What are you doing here?” Castiel looked at the street, but of course the familiar UPS truck wasn’t there. In its place was a sleek, black car. 

“My route changed and I, uh, never got to say bye. So I thought I’d just come over. Sorry if that’s weird—”

“No, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised. I thought I’d never…”

Dean grinned. “Scared you’d lost me forever?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted. 

“I, um, I brought you this.” He held out the plant, laughed nervously. “I felt weird coming over without anything to deliver.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” Taking the plant, he stroked the leaves. “I know exactly where to put it.” His heart pounded as he realized now was his chance. He had to take it.

He started to ask for Dean’s number, but Dean started talking too, and they both stopped, laughing. “You first,” Castiel said. 

“Um, well.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was thinking, would you maybe want to hang out somewhere other than your doorway? I can show you around town.” He gestured to his car. “Take you for a spin in Baby.”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I would love that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to ask you out, or ask for your number. I just never worked up the courage.”

Dean grinned. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Castiel laughed. “No. Not at all. You’re quite the opposite.” He gestured inside. “Would you, uh, would you like to come inside?”

“Yeah, totally.” 

Castiel started to open the door wider, then paused. “I have a question. You never did need my signature, did you? For the packages?”

Dean frowned, then realization seemed to hit him and his face reddened. “Yeah, uh. No. But I figured it was a surefire way to get your name and talk to you.”

“Is that a trick you use often?”

“Nope, you were the first.” He grinned, eyes suddenly teasing. "Did you really need everything you were ordering, or were all the packages just an excuse to see me?"

Now was Castiel's time to blush. "I did need what I ordered!" he protested. "Well, some things. But mainly... I just wanted to talk to you."

“Well, it worked.”

“Yes.” He stepped back for Dean to come inside his home and smiled at him. “And I’m very glad it did."

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[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Alpha and Omega - Ch 2 / 2

Pairing: Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: A/B/O, Darkness magic,  Alpha!Dean, Omega!Sam, Dub-Con (biological necessity), little bit of meta (cuz why not), Sam’s a needy mess, Dean is possessive af  Word Count: 4k Created for: @first-time-wincest-fest​ - 12x02 Mamma Mia | @spnabobingo​ - Male Omega | Summary: Amara wants to thank Dean by giving him the thing he needs most – Sam – but she knows the boys are stubborn, so she’s going to have to be creative. Problem is, she doesn’t tell Dean or Sam what she’s put in motion, and magic can be unpredictable.

Despite the many apparent flaws of these British Men of Letters dicks, at least Mick has the good sense to let Dean and Sam go. He offers to try helping Sam, but he doesn’t have any more ideas about his condition than that blonde bitch does, so Dean declines and gets Sam the hell out of dodge.

The moment they make it over the property line and past the efficacy of the anti-angel warding Cas is by their sides, sliding under Sam’s other arm to help Dean carry him to the Impala.

“Don’t touch him,” Dean growls, startling Cas and himself. Cas raises his hands in a show of good faith.

“I am just trying to help, Dean,” he reassures the hunter, lowly.

“Yeah, um, sorry man,” Dean shakes his head to clear it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching Sam right now but he doesn’t want anyone’s hands on his baby brother. Begrudgingly, he lets Castiel grab Sam’s arm and help them to the car, where they gingerly lay a shivering, and for all intents and purposes unconscious, Sam on the back seat. “Cas, what’s wrong with him?” Dean tries to keep a grip on the panic in his voice but he doesn’t have much luck.

“It’s hard to be sure,” Castiel mutters, laying a hand against Sam’s forehead, which is burning hot. “We need to get him home immediately, this fever is dangerously high.”

Dean rounds the car to root through the first aid pack in the trunk, pulling out a few instant cold packs. “Here,” he cracks one up in his hands and passes it to Cas. “Get in back, try to keep him cool.” Cas slides into the back seat of the Impala, pulling Sam over his lap and pressing the cold pack against the young man’s forehead. Dean drops the spare cold packs beside him as he jumps in behind the wheel and peels out of the dirt road driveway in reverse, gunning them back home towards Kansas.

The use of cold packs and bags of ice they picked up at gas stations along their way get the trio home without Sam’s condition worsening. Dean would send up a thank you to Chuck for that except that he’s nearly positive Chuck’s sister is the reason Sam is in this mess in the first place. I thought she wanted to do something to thank me, not destroy my life. They get Sam into bed without too much trouble, and Castiel suggests stripping Sam out of his clothes to help keep him cool.

“Get away from him,” Dean growls, baring his teeth at his friend. Castiel once again looks at him in confusion, his brow crinkling as he stares hard at Dean.

“I’m going to call Rowena, see if maybe she can help us determine what is wrong with Sam.” Cas backs up cautiously, and Dean is glad to see him go.

Once he’s alone with his brother, he does think that stripping Sam down is a decent idea – at the very least he should change him into some clean pyjamas instead of the bloodied tatters he’s dressed in now. Dean sits on the edge of the bed, gently brushing Sam’s hair away from his eyes. He has the sudden urge to lean down and kiss Sam, so he does – very carefully placing his lips against his little brother’s forehead. It seems to Dean like Sam presses back into the kiss, and when his lips retreat, Sam stretches his neck and turns his head into Dean’s side, almost like he’s burrowing there. The unconscious display of affection brings a surge of warmth to Dean’s chest, though he can’t find it in him to smile with Sam like this.

Gingerly, Dean unbuttons Sam’s shirt and eases it over his shoulders, his fingers tracing over Sam’s muscles on the way down each arm. He hadn’t spent too much time around Sam’s unclothed chest recently and he couldn’t help staring at the contours of his frame. Sometimes he spends so much time thinking about Sam as his little brother, he forgets how much he’d built himself up over the years, forgets about the strength that all those layers of shirts they wear everyday are hiding. Dean has to shake himself in chastisement for staring at Sam’s body and lusting after it like a creep when he’s supposed to be taking care of him. How could he be thinking with his dick, even now, when Sam is deathly ill? But he was thinking with his dick, because even seeing Sam half naked for a matter of thirty seconds seems to be enough to give him a semi. For fuck’s sake, Dean curses himself, and sets about the task of easing Sam out of his torn up jeans.

As he gets Sam’s abnormally long jeans off his abnormally long body, three things strike Dean as odd. The first, that the smell he’d overwhelmingly associated with Sam back at the farmhouse in Missouri all of the sudden permeates the air around him. Sure, he’d been smelling it this whole time – it had been almost unbearably strong on the 6 hour drive back to Kansas – but he figured he must have gotten used to it because it had sort of faded into the background until just now. Secondly, the way Sam’s legs were splayed out across the bed right now gave Dean a view of a dark wet patch on the light grey of Sam’s underwear – gross, Dean thinks to himself, until he realises that the stain isn’t on the front of Sam’s briefs like it would be if he’d pissed himself. That examination leads him to his third odd discovery, which is that Sam has a boner.

“Well, what have we here?” Dean spins to see Rowena standing in the doorway, smirking.

“I’m sorry, Sam’s turned into a what?” Dean blinks incredulously at Rowena, who’s perching on the edge of the table in the kitchen. He turns his head to look at Castiel, who is sitting stoically behind Rowena. The angel shrugs unhelpfully.

“An Omega, dearie,” Rowena enunciates more clearly, like she imagines she’s talking to a four year old.

“Right,” Dean nods, although he doesn’t really understand. “And I’m a–”

“An Alpha, yes,” Rowena reiterates, clearly annoyed Dean isn’t getting this. “Well, Sam’s Alpha, more specifically,” she amends.

“And what exactly does all this mean?” Dean grunts, frustrated.

“It means that you and Samuel are mates,” Rowena elaborates.

“We know that, we saw our shared heaven, like a decade ago. What the hell does it have to do with him being sick?”

“Samuel is sick because he’s an Omega in heat, and he needs his mate.”

“Well if I’m his ‘mate’ and he ‘needs me’ – I’m right here! So why isn’t he better?” Dean growls.

“I believe,” Cas clears his throat, “from what I understand of the traditional elements of this condition, that what Rowena means is that Sam needs you, as his mate, physically.” Cas looks sheepishly at Rowena for confirmation.

“Precisely,” she smiles thankfully at Castiel.

“Physically?” Dean’s not any closer to understanding what’s happening. “So what, I need to go hold his hand until his fever breaks?”

“Well, I’m not surprised that you might want to hold his hand, but it’s going to take a wee bit more than that.”

“Will you just tell me how the hell to cure him?” Dean shouts, accidentally shattering the beer bottle he’s holding. He looks down, surprised at his own strength and at the end of his tether now.

“Sexual intercourse,” Cas answers shortly, his face carefully blank. “Though, again, from my understanding, that will only cure his heat. He will remain an Omega and you will remain an Alpha.”

“What the hell are you talking about ‘from what you understand’?” Dean makes indignant air quotes at Cas.

“When Metatron put all of popular culture into my head it included every story ever written. There are a large number of stories on the internet that incorporate the dynamics of the Alpha/Omega hierarchy. It’s a trope primarily found in something called ‘fanfiction’,” Cas explains. “In fact, there is some ‘fanfiction’ about yourself and Sam if it would help you to understand the mating requirements.” Dean feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Cas, listen to me very carefully: under no circumstances are you to ever tell anyone else that those exist,” Dean groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why is this happening?”

“That’s the part I’ve not got the faintest idea about,” Rowena sighs. “It would take something more than a simple spell to alter your anatomies like this. Not even an angel,” she glances at Castiel quickly to check she’s right in her assumption. “I’ve never heard of something like this actually happening outside of fiction.”

“It was Amara,” Dean sighs. “When she left she told me she was going to give me what I ‘needed most’, but I don’t know why she thought this was it. It just seems like some sick joke.”

“Ah,” Rowena nods sagely like she understands now. “She was giving you Samuel.”

“How is this ‘giving me’ Sam?”

“A physically bonded Alpha and Omega are bonded for life, inseparable. Without the other, they won’t survive their heats – or ruts, in your case.”

“So every time Sam goes into a heat, we need to have sex, or he dies?” Dean can’t believe how fucked up this is.

“You’ll also need to knot him,” Cas adds gravely. Noticing Dean’s look of incredulity, he continues. “The base of your penis will inflate when you ejaculate and lock you and Sam together for a brief time. It’s the knot that Sam needs to relieve the symptoms of his heat.”

“What the fuck?” Dean blanches.

“Not to importune but I do believe Samuel was running out of time when I examined him. You really should get to it, Dean,” Rowena cuts in.

“And how am I supposed to do that, huh? The guy’s unconscious! I can’t just–” Dean’s stomach roiled. The thought of fucking Sam was tempting, amazingly so, but the thought of doing it to Sam, without his knowledge or participation, was sickening.

“I can make him a wee draft to revive him and stave off the fever,” Rowena moves towards one of the cupboards in the kitchen where Sam keeps the common spell ingredients. “Then Castiel and I can make ourselves scarce and leave you two to it,” she smiles.

“And you’re positive this is the only way?” Dean presses desperately.

“That Amara is a crafty woman, she knew what she was doing.” Rowena throws some herbs into a small dish. “She saw that you would never ‘put the moves on Sam’, as you say. This is her way of giving you both that little push.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a bitch,” Dean grumbles, dropping his head in his hands and waiting for Rowena to finish the potion to wake Sam up.

Sam blinks awake wearily, vaguely aware that he’s safe and not being held captive anymore, but he can’t remember much more than snippets of sound and scent. The rumble of an engine, the smell of motor oil; the low tenor of Dean’s voice, and the scent of whiskey, apple pie, and old leather. He can make out all of those scents now, too, swirling around him and pulling him back into consciousness – like smelling salts.

“Hey, there he is,” Dean’s voice says nearby, he’s sitting on the side of Sam’s bed.

Sam nuzzles towards his older brother, inexplicably craving the closeness. “De,” Sam mumbles, still sleepy.

“Yeah, it’s me Sammy,” Dean smiles down at him gently, eyes soft. Sam feels an unusual rush of need wash over him like a heat wave and he presses himself as close to Dean as two bodies can possibly get with a blanket still in between them.

“Wha s’happening?” he grumbles into Dean’s chest, looping his long arms around his brother’s waist.

“Short version?” Dean scoffs, but not unkindly. “Listen man, I’ll explain everything, I promise but – right now I just need to make sure you get outta this in one piece,” Dean sighs, drawing his hand down Sam’s face and holding his cheek. Sam looks up at Dean quizzically, unused to the level of physical affection but finding he was in desperate want of more. He nods at his big brother – whatever’s wrong, he knows Dean will take care of him. “You trust me Sammy?” Dean’s voice is hoarse, and Sam realises he’s scared.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam breathes quietly into the slowly decreasing space between them. “Course I do,” he confirms again.

“Alright then,” Dean gulps and nods, mostly to himself though, like he’s trying to psych himself up for something. Then without any further warning, Dean’s lips are covering Sam’s and pressing him down onto the bed.

The fire that had been smouldering inside Sam for days now leaps and dances, as if Dean’s kiss is gasoline being thrown across him. Sam clings to Dean as he’s laid back onto the bed, and lets Dean climb into his lap and bury his hands in Sam’s hair. Dean licks across the seam of his lips and Sam parts them willingly, drinking in every bit of Dean that is being offered to him. He can’t remember why he needs Dean like this so badly, or when he started needing him, but now that he has him he couldn’t care less. He knows with certainty that the only thing he needs to be happy for the rest of his life is Dean – Dean loving him, Dean kissing him, Dean inside him. Fuck, he needs Dean inside him right fucking now.

At this realisation, Sam starts tearing into Dean’s clothes, ripping through the thread keeping buttons in their places without a thought. He expects Dean to start doing the same to him, but then realises he’s not wearing anything but his underwear, which suits Sam just fine. Dean has to pull away from him to wriggle out of his jeans, and Sam groans involuntarily at the sight of the bulge Dean reveals when he strips down.

“Someone likes the view, huh?” Dean teases him, voice deep and throaty, but Sam’s too far gone to come up with a bratty retort. All he can focus on is that he wants Dean’s cock – now.

“Shit, you look so big De,” Sam groans, reaching out a hand to cup around Dean’s member, still hidden behind black cotton. The front of the material is wet with precum, Sam can feel it against his fingertips.

“Think you can handle me, little bro?” Dean grabs Sam’s wrist and drags his fingers along the outline of his cock, up to the elastic waist of his boxers, and then inside them. Sam’s fingers curl around Dean and stroke him gently beneath the fabric. “Think you can fit all that inside your tight little ass f’me?” he grunts, thrusting into Sam’s grip.

“Fuck yes,” Sam rasps, and his breath sounds like it’s raking over hot coals in his throat. He pulls back from Dean to shed his own underwear, staring at it puzzledly when it comes away from his body covered in slick. What is that, he wonders as he feels it on his fingers. It doesn't feel like lube… “Dean?” Sam looks to his brother for answers.

“S’okay,” Dean rushes to reassure him, joining his little brother on the bed, both of them now completely bared to the other. “I’ll explain later, yeah? Just let me take care of you right now, okay?” Dean’s eyes are wide and pleading as he looks to Sam, and Sam nods; he trusts Dean. “Just lemme take care a’you,” Dean whispers again as he brushes their lips together, and Sam pulls him in tight for another bruising kiss.

Their bodies twist and tangle easily, Sam just letting Dean put them together however he wanted. The heat of Dean against him is overwhelming, the sweat on their skin mingles and sticks them together, pulling at their nerves every time they part. Sam doesn’t want them to part. He reaches between them, grabbing Dean’s cock in his hand and thrusts his own into the same grip. Their moans ring through each others’ mouths as Sam jerks them against each other, and they take turns fucking into his fist. Before long Dean pulls away from Sam with a groan, probably to stop himself from finishing before he’s had a chance to see what the inside of his brother feels like. Sam is glad of his consideration in this case, because if he ends tonight without Dean locked firmly inside of him, he’s going to feel like he’s missing out. If he was more clear headed, he might question why the phrase ‘locked inside of him’ is the one that came to mind but he’s not thinking too deeply about what he wants right now — he just wants.

“Need you, Dean,” Sam pants, widely, grabbing at Dean, trying to bring their bodies back together. “Need… ne—” Sam’s vocabulary has become shockingly singular, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to be irritated with his brother when Dean smiles down at him smugly, knowingly.

“I know what you need, Sammy” Dean grins down at his little brother. Having Sam this strung out and desperate for him is like a drug. I could get used to this being a monthly thing, he smirks to himself, reaching his hand down between Sam’s legs and rubbing at his slick entrance. “Need me right here, dontcha Sammy? I can feel how much you need me,” Dean groans as the tip of his finger slips inside of Sam too easily, “fuck, you’re wet. So fucking wet for me, huh Sammy?”

Sam just nods blissfully down at Dean; it seems his vocabulary of one word has now receded to zero.

Cas had warned him about this, that as an Omega, Sam would start leaking like a fire hydrant, but at least it saved him having to hunt around for some kind of lube — he’d never needed to have that on hand before, and if he found any lying around the bunker there’s a decent chance it would be cursed or something. Plus, he bet this made the whole experience way better for Sam, so he was all for it. Dean moves between Sam’s legs and runs the head of his cock over Sam’s twitching entrance. Sammy lets out a weak moan and arches against the pressure, trying to get Dean to slip inside. Dean’s about to oblige when he remembers what Cas said about them getting locked together by the Alpha’s knot once he comes, and he thinks better of their position. It will be easier to roll on to their sides and rest if he does this with Sam on his hands and knees.

He manhandles Sam into position, rolling him over, and when Sam gets the idea and pushes himself onto his hands and knees, arching his back and presenting himself to Dean like some kind of trophy, Dean can’t hold himself back any longer. He pushes his cock inside Sam slowly, agonisingly and torturously slowly. Not because he’s concerned about hurting Sam, who is opening up beneath him like he was born for this — born to take Dean’s cock — but because he knows he wants to savour this moment for the rest of his life. He wants to remember every second of the first time he felt what it was like to truly possess Sam, to be joined so completely to one another that not even their bodies can keep them separate. So Dean goes slow, even though Sam is begging beneath him, asking him to just fuck him already, Dean ignores him, and he drinks the feelings in.

When he’s got himself bottomed out inside of Sam he leans down over his brother and presses a kiss to his shoulder, tenderly, thanking him for what he’s giving Dean right now. “You feel so good Sammy,” Dean moans, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound as sappy as it does but it’s hard to regulate things like that when you feel like you’ve just connected to your soulmate for the first time, so he gives himself a pass.

The next time Sam begs, Dean gives in, snapping his hips back and fucking into him as hard as he can manage. And once he’s started he can’t stop. Every instinct inside of Dean is shouting at him to take, to fuck Sam into the mattress and never let up, which Sam doesn’t seem to mind, because no matter how roughly Dean thrusts into him he keeps shouting for more, faster, harder, please. So Dean, ever the good big brother, gives Sammy what he needs — what they both need.

Dean can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, and that’s when he notices that he can’t quite pull out as far as before. His knot has begun swelling at the base of his cock, getting ready to pop and bind him and Sam together. The fattening edges catching on Sam’s rim give Dean a kind of friction no sex ever has before and, fucking hell, it feels unbelievably good. He grinds himself harder against Sam, dropping over his back so they can be as close as possible, and bringing his hand up beneath Sam to grasp at his little brother’s dick. It’s the first time he’s properly touched it, felt it in his hand, and shit, it feels even bigger than it looks.

“Oh my god, Dean,” Sam groans, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Dean takes that as a compliment. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck, please,” Sam is pleading with him so prettily, and Dean wants to cum just as badly as him.

“Not stopping Sammy,” Dean strokes him faster, grinds into him harder, “not stopping until you cum all over my hand baby boy, so c’mon, want you to cum f’me.” Dean thanks God that Sam starts to cum loudly when Dean tells him too, because the second he feels Sam start to convulse around him his knot pops and he’s cumming harder than he ever has in his life. The thought of his seed whitewashing Sam’s insides is sickeningly thrilling and he swears a second, small orgasm rocks through him — and hey, if that’s a perk of being an Alpha, I could get used to this.

When Dean comes back to himself, his breathing finally evening out, he notices Sam slumped beneath him, no longer holding himself up. He quickly checks for a pulse, and relaxes when he finds one – Sam’s just passed out. Fuck, he came so hard he passed out. Dean shudders, feeling another small blurt of cum force itself out of his cock at the thought that he’d fucked Sam so thoroughly. To be honest he was a little proud of himself.

Dean arranges himself on his side on the bed, so he can curl around Sam while he waits for his knot to deflate. He thought he’d be annoyed by having to stay still like this for so long but it’s surprisingly peaceful, laying here with Sam asleep in his arms. He hugs his little brother tighter to him, clasping his hands over Sam’s chest – over his heart – feels the rhythm and reassures himself that Sam is here, and alive, and safe. And his. The realisation hits Dean unexpectedly. Sam is finally his in the most permanent way he can think of, and his heart leaps at the thought. The last thing he thinks before he drops off to sleep too, is that he hopes Sam still wants to be his when he wakes up.

Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles-deactivated20210​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @akshi8278 @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @stoneyggirl 

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 2 - Noise Complaint

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None expect meanie Dean (Suspicious, isn’t it?)

WC - 2154

Square Filled - Don't put me in this position ( @anyfandomgoesbingo​ )

A/N - I promise the next chapter will have more of Dean and more conflict! This is just the beginning of a very long ride. Enjoy!

Beta’d by @miss-nerd95​

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist               Masterlist 

The silence in the cab on her way back to her apartment gave her the quality time she needed to think. In a few weeks, Meg was getting married and now, since they knew, Y/N had to show up with her 'boyfriend’. She racked her brain, scrambling to come up with a good excuse because it was all a big lie.

Every time, however, she reached two conclusions - either make a fool of herself and admit that she lied or tell everyone that she broke up and be the one person at the wedding that everyone looks down on with pitiful eyes.

There was a third option, which was risque as hell too, cause Y/N barely knew the man and their first meeting did not go so well, but there was definitely something about him that made her blush every time she thought of him.The way he carried himself and the dominating vibes he gave off, sent shivers down her spine. Maybe he wasn't a morning person and she did start blabbering in the elevator the minute she stepped in. She swallowed hard when she remembered the way her name rolled off his tongue. ‘How did he know?’ She wondered.

As Y/N boarded the elevator, she thought about how, she wanted nothing more than to see a certain green-eyed man again. She had been residing in this complex for almost three months but she had never seen the man before. Maybe he was new here, in this apartment building, who knew? Mind plagued by millions of thoughts, Y/N trudged down the empty hallway to her cosy little home.

“Who invented these fucking heels?” She grumbled as she freed her feet out of the painful, yet pretty high heels when she reached the comfort of her own home. Shrugging her coat off, she relaxed as her ass hit the soft mattress of the couch.

“I need a date in seven weeks.” She said, making a mental note of the wedding date. This was the only wedding she ever looked forward to attending where she knew she wouldn't have to face the constant stream of questions involving her dating life and a particular man. All she ever wanted was to be with her close friend on the best day of her life.

“First dress fitting - tomorrow at 10.” Her phone lit up with an incoming text and groaning, she dropped her head backwards. Y/N couldn't even skip the wedding if she wanted to. She was one of the bridesmaids and it wouldn't be fair to both Meg and Cas, if she didn't attend it. A smile graced her frowning face when she remembered the time Cas proposed to her friend on Valentine's Day. Cliche- Y/N would say, but deep down, she knew she just wanted what Cas and Meg had.

A sigh left her lips as she got up, still in her work clothes. She put on some light music as she went into the bathroom to freshen up. After the long, tiring day she had, a warm bath and a Ryan Gosling movie were very much needed. Quickly stripping off, she stepped into the tub. She leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes, as the warm water soothed her aching body and her troubled mind.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone,” Y/N sang along the song, slightly off tune but she didn't care, as she stepped out of the bathroom after some time. She let go of the towel wrapped around her body and stepped into a pair of comfortable pjs. Getting a box cold pizza out from her refrigerator, she turned up the volume of the music playing in her apartment.

“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said,” Y/N yelled out the chorus when she started to heat up the pizza. Her private singing session, however, was cut short by a sudden knock on the door. She grudgingly pressed pause as she walked up to the door to find out the unwanted visitor.

“Excuse me- Ms L/N?” As soon as she opened the door, she was met by a very familiar, deep baritone that had been haunting her.

“Dean Winchester. And please, call me Y/N,” she breathed out. The formality in Dean’s voice made her cringe. Her eyes fell as she took in the man in front.

Dean had gotten rid of the dapper grey suit and slipped into a much laid back look. A black polo t-shirt fitted over his body and plain blue jeans hugging his bowlegs perfectly. The look on his face mirrored the one from the morning and Y/N wondered if he would look better with a smile on. Her train of thoughts were again rudely interrupted by the man speaking.

“I assume you're having somewhat of a casual evening,” Dean said, his hands waving to point at her pjs, making her suddenly self-conscious of her clothing state.

“Y-yeah. How may I help you?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“See, I moved in the apartment right beside you a few days ago, and I think you might have noticed sometime or the other that there are other people living in this building as well,” Dean said, his face not imparting any sort of emotions, “You might be having a casual evening but I can assure you that there's at least one person who is certainly not. Turn the music level down.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open at Dean’s words but she wasn't going to turn down the volume just because a man turned up at her door, asking her to do so. His words were sharp, but his tone was downright rude, and it was definitely not because he wasn't a morning person. The least he could have done was ask her nicely.

“Well, listen here pal, no one's having a problem, other than you. So you can go back to your room, put on some earplugs and do whatever the heck you were doing before you decided to make my day more awful,” Y/N said, taking a threatening stance with hands on her hips, a deep frown on her face.

“I'll file a noise complaint report against you.” Dean warned with his pointer finger right in front of her eyes.

“It's just music. Learn to appreciate the little things in life.” She said while rolling her eyes.

“I'm a very busy man and I got work to do, alright? And speaking about music, play something actually good like Zeppelin and people will personally come up to thank you. This song is not even a classic.” Dean spat back.

“Believe me or not, everyone is a Swiftie at heart.” She smirked with a sarcastic shrug. Dean’s lips twitched in anger as his face grew more rigid before he said, “If you don't lower the volume, expect a noise complaint report delivered with your newspaper tomorrow.” He walked away before Y/N had a chance to even think of a comeback.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean went inside his own apartment room right beside Y/N’s. She glared at the empty hallway before swinging her door shut and walked back to her room towards her amazon echo, turning the music down anyway. She couldn't risk getting a report filed against her, and the man appeared to be dead serious about what he threatened to do.

“Stupid Dean Winchester.” She grumbled.

Squinting at the clock, Y/N woke up the next morning to loud bangs on her door. 7:30 am, it read. Removing the covers, she immediately shivered when the cool air hit her bare legs.

Hair still a mess, she grabbed her robe from the nearby chair, putting it on along with her slippers before she warily made her way to the door. “Dean will be complaining now for sure.” She grumbled as she unlocked her door to reveal her friend standing on the other side in a dishevelled state, eyes red like a mad woman.

“Meg?” Her face scrunched up in confusion as the said woman shoved past her into her apartment. “You’re wearing your shirt inside out.” Y/N closed the door behind her as Meg took a seat on the couch.

“Can I have some water?” Y/N dumbfoundedly nodded at her friend’s request and went to her kitchen to retrieve a glassful. Handing the glass over to her, she sat down next to the brunette who gulped down the entire glass of water in one go. Setting the utensil down on the wooden coffee table in front, she turned towards Y/N with slightly glossy eyes as she spoke, “I don’t want to go and finalise the dresses.”

Her words elicited a laugh from Y/N before she said, “Okay, bridezilla, we can reschedule it. Cas should better watch out!” She chuckled out the last words.

“No, y-you don’t understand!” Meg grabbed her friend’s hands, surprising the latter, “I don’t want to try the dress on at all.” Y/N was utterly surprised over her friend's outburst.

“Honey, you have a wedding in less than two months.” Y/N cooed as a few drops of tears rolled down the bride-to-be’s cheeks. “Meg, talk to me. Did something happen between you two?”

The woman shook her head, letting the other lady in the room know that she didn't have to kick Cas’ ass to her relief, but it confused her even further. Since their engagement five months ago, Meg had been over the moon and had started planning every minute detail with high precision and finesse for her big day.

“What if I'm making a huge mistake?”

“Don’t put me in this position. You know how I am when it comes to-”

“But I need to know, and I trust you.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before she said, “Cas is the best thing that has ever happened to you-”

“You barely even knew me when I started to go out with him. We have only been together for fifteen months - five of which I have spent being engaged to him. What if I regret this later?” Meg's words were correct. Y/N used to barely talk to her when she had started dating Cas, but all through those eighteen months, as she slowly got to know the pair well enough, she knew that they were clearly meant to be in it for the long haul.

“But I have never seen you regret your decision to be with Cas even once… so why start now?.” Y/N politely answered, her hands letting go of her distraught friend's iron-clad grasp and reaching out to soothe her.

“Sometimes even if you have been with your man for what feels like forever, marrying him might seem to be the worst decision you can ever make, but it doesn't matter how long you have been with him. When you know, you know. Follow your heart.” Meg looked up at her as she mulled her words over before speaking.

“I love him.” She said.

“Then go, be with him.” Y/N smiled. Crisis averted.

A smile started to appear on Meg’s tear stained face as her eyes twinkled with a suggestive glimmer in them. Fiddling with her sparkling ring, she said, “Dean’s good for you. Don't let him go.”

Y/N was taken aback by her friend's supposition. She sat up straight in her seat as heat crept up her neck. Her mind was stuck in a turmoil as she tried to come up with an appropriate response.

“He’s not-Dean is not-” She stuttered, the words got stuck in her throat when she tried to think of a decent excuse. Maybe, this was the universe giving her a chance to take back everything she had said before, but the disheartened look on her friend’s face made her rethink her decision. After all, a little white lie never hurt anybody. “Yeah, he is a good man.” Meg smiled as Y/N played her into the deception game once again.

“Will he be at the wedding?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Unless he is a figment of your imagination, ask him! I want to meet this certain Dean Winchester.” Meg giggled.

“I don’t have such vivid imaginations, Meg.” Y/N let out a nervous chuckle. She was now being given an ample amount of opportunities to tell the truth, then why was it so hard for her to deny everything she had said? Maybe she liked living in this utopian world where for once, no one deemed her as the broken, pathetic girl who failed to make a man stay. Maybe deep down, she wanted this damn lie to be true.

“I’ll ask him but you do know how men are about weddings.” She replied, having no knowledge of how to keep her end of the promise.

Chapter 3

Feedback is highly appreciated

If you want to be tagged in the series, lemme know!

[wanderingcas]

C’mon Inn destiel, 3k words. a commission for @jensenackhles, who had the most AMAZING prompt of “what if Dean and Cas stayed at an inn that kept making them go into each other’s rooms?”

. . . . 

There is absolutely no way that Dean Winchester would ever stay at an inn. Much less a bed and breakfast. Breakfast should be a hearty plate of bacon and pancakes, not unsalted egg whites with freshly-picked garden vegetables piled on top of it. And especially not topped with garnish. 

Dean full-out shudders when the innkeeper (an older woman in her fifties with greying, tied-back hair) explains the meal to him. And he would have gotten the hell out of dodge right then and there, too, if Cas hadn’t elbowed him sharply in his side.

“That all sounds wonderful,” his ex-angel partner says with a forced smile. “What time are you serving it?” 

“Seven in the morning,” the innkeeper, Cherry, cheerily proclaims.

Dean grins at Cas’s horrified face. Serves Cas right for suggesting this inn of horrors in the first place. “Bright and early, huh?”

“Oh, yes,” Cherry says. “And don’t be surprised if you hear me down in the kitchen earlier than that—I wake up every morning at five, without fail.” She winks.

Dean is beginning to see why this inn has such an open vacancy in the first place, more than the fact that there’s cat wallpaper and decorations on every inch of the walls. 

“That’s…” Cas works his jaw and forces a smile. “That sounds wonderful.”

Cherry beams. “Now, which room would you like: Tabby cats or Maine Coons?” 

Dean resists an eye roll. “Whichever is fine.” 

“And I’ll take the opposite,” Cas adds.

“Oh, you won’t—be staying together?” Cherry asks. At the shake of their heads, her face twists into a frown. “Oh dear. This inn is really for couples only. I know it sounds strange but it’s really better if guests are staying in the same room.”

Cas looks down at their bags with a face that Dean knows well: he calls it Cas’s if I don’t get into a bed and sleep right now I’m going to lose it expression. Dean leans forward onto the welcome desk and gives Cherry his sweetest smile.

“Listen, my friend and I—we’ve had a long day,” Dean says, “and all the hotels in a thirty mile radius are booked up for some god-forsaken reason—” 

“The Big Ten Championships are in Columbus this year,” Cherry pipes in.

“Okay,” Dean says, teeth clenched in a smile. “So basically, ma’am, you’re the one who’s deciding if we’re sleeping in a car or a bed. Which one is it gonna be?”

Cherry looks between them. She sighs, and holds out two keys. “Second floor. The Maine Coon suite is right when you walk up the stairs and the Tabby suite is at the end of the hall.”

Dean’s shoulders sag in relief and he grabs the keys. “Great, thanks.” He yanks his duffel bag over his shoulder, along with Cas’s, ignoring his friend’s glare. 

“Just, before you go,” Cherry calls after them, tentatively. “If you notice anything—well, strange. Just call me down here in the front desk.” 

“Strange?” Dean repeats. 

“Yes. Anything unusual.” 

Dean narrows his eyes. “Whaddaya mean—”

“We will,” Cas says impatiently, pushing at Dean’s back. “Thank you.” 

“You think we should keep our eye out here?” Dean whispers to Castiel as they climb up the narrow staircase. “She seemed kinda freaked.” 

“I don’t care if a Wendigo comes out of the closet,” Castiel replies, wincing at each step of his injured leg. “I just want to sleep.”

“Fine, you big baby.” Dean deposits Cas’s bag in front of the Maine Coon room and turns the key in the lock. “You can take this one.” He opens the door, switches on the light, and looks in horror upon the Maine Coon wallpaper and framed photos of various Maine Coon cats. 

Cas he walks through the door, eyes wide. “Do you suppose this counts as something ‘strange’ to notify Cherry about?” 

Dean snorts. “Well, you gotta appreciate a woman who knows what she likes.” He picks up a Maine Coon plush toy from the dresser and grimaces.

“If I wasn’t injured, I’d be tempted to salt and burn this room,” Cas groans, lying on the bed with mud-stained clothes and shoes and all, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Cas,” Dean gasps, dramatically covering the stuffed animal’s ears, “they can hear you.” 

Cas narrows his eyes. “Dean, as much as I typically love your antics—right now, they are very irritating to me.” 

“Which means you want me to—”

“Leave, yes.” 

“Nice way to treat a guy who carried your bag all the way to your room.” Dean picks up his own bag, pointing to Cas’s leg wound. “I’ll be back to clean and dress that thing in the morning.” 

“Fine,” Cas sighs, already turning over and pushing his face into the pillow. 

After a moment of hesitation, Dean walks to the bed and pulls the quilt over Cas’s body. “You don’t want to catch a cold, idiot,” Dean explains to Cas’s questioning look as he tucks the blankets around Cas’s shoulders.

Cas rolls his eyes, but nonetheless says, softly, “Thank you, Dean,” as Dean shuts the door behind him.

. . . 

Dean wakes in the middle of the night with a raging urge to pee. He blames it on the Gatorade that he chugged at the gas station after the hunt. He lays in bed for a minute, considering his options, and deciding that peeing where he sleeps would not be in his best interests. 

Hauling his aching and bruised body out the bed, he scratches at his bare chest and stumbles to the door of the attached bathroom. He opens it, and—

Comes face to face with Maine Coon wallpaper. 

He blinks into the dark room. Cas is snoring loudly on the bed, limbs flailed across the bed and head tilted back. Dean looks back at his own room, through the door of what he thought was the bathroom, then back at the bedroom.

“I’m dreaming,” Dean says to himself. “Either that, Winchester, or you hit your head a little harder than you thought on that damn hunt.” 

He backs up, shuts the door, and goes to use the bathroom in the hallway.

*

Cas is running a fever when Dean checks on him the next morning. He peels the bandage away on Cas’s leg, and hisses at what he sees.

“Is it bad?” Cas asks, gritting his teeth in pain.

Dean examines the deep gash and the red splotchy skin around the edges of the cut, thinking about how to put it nicely. “Well, you’ll probably lose the leg.”

Wide-eyed, Cas grabs at his thigh. “What—”

“Nah, it’s just an infection. You’ll be fine.” 

Cas flops his head back onto the pillow. “Has anyone told you that you have the worst bedside manner?”

“Maybe Sam, once or twice; but he’s a natural-born complainer.” Dean starts winding a fresh bandage around Cas’s leg. “You’ll have to rest up for a few days, get your fever down. No way we’re traveling while you’re like this.” 

“That means we’ll have to eat—” Cas winces at the pressure of the bandage around his wound, “—inn breakfast.” 

“There’s worse things, Cas. Like, for instance, having to amputate your infected leg.” Dean ties the bandage tightly for emphasis and smiles sweetly at Cas’s glare.

. . . 

“Your friend won’t be joining you?” Cherry asks as Dean picks scones off one of the many plates scattered across the table.

“Uh, no. He’s feeling sick. Actually, I should be getting some food up to him, so I can’t really stick around.” Thankfully, Dean doesn’t say.

Cherry seems put out, but forces a smile anyway. “Oh, that’s fine!” She watches as Dean piles eggs on a plate (they’re scrambled with cheese, Cas’s favorite) and a few pieces of toast. “You didn’t notice anything strange last night, did you?” 

Dean frowns at the lack of bacon on the table, or meat at all for that matter. “Strange?” he asks distractedly. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, I just—I’m just wondering.” 

“Nope, nothing strange.” He balances a plate on one hand and two mugs of coffee clutched in the other, giving Cherry a nod. “Thanks for the breakfast.” 

He’s really focused on balancing the plates, so it could just be a matter of him not paying attention; but when he goes through the swinging door of the dining room, he only has to walk a few steps when he’s once again in the hallway, right in front of Cas’s bedroom door.

“Huh,” he says to the empty hallway. Making a point to investigate that later, he walks into Cas’s bedroom to give him his breakfast.

. . . 

It keeps happening so many times the rest of the day that Dean can’t even chalk it up to distraction, or a concussed head, anymore.

He walks through his bedroom door to the hallway after a phone call with Sam only to find himself in Cas’s bedroom again. Cas goes to bed early that night, and ends up back on the porch where him and Dean were sitting, trying to get some fresh air. Dean walks through his walk-in closet door only to find Cas in the shower, who’s yanking the shower curtain around his body to shield himself.

“Something’s very wrong with this inn,” Dean says, sitting on the bed next to a dripping wet Cas.

“I didn’t even get a chance to condition my hair,” replies Cas, petulantly.

“Dude, you could have finished your goddamn shower.”

“How could I finish, when you walked straight into the shower curtain, Dean? Would you really like me to have continued washing my hair while you were—” 

“Okay.” Dean holds up a hand. “Focus on the real problem here, Cas. This inn has something supernatural going on with it.” 

Cas frowns down at his bare feet. He wiggles his toes a bit, and Dean instructs himself not to find it adorable. “Does this inn seem malicious to you?”

“No. More like it’s fucking with us.” 

“Then there’s our answer.” Cas gives him a lopsided smile. “I hardly think a bed and breakfast that likes to play practical jokes is something worth fretting over, Dean. It’s just some harmless entity. I sensed plenty like it when I was an angel.” 

Dean crosses his arms. “Well, I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it because you presume everything supernatural is going to be dangerous.” 

Dean opens his mouth to protest—closes it when he sees the smile in Cas’s eyes. “Fine,” he says. “But if it does anything to piss me off—”

“We’ll investigate it, yes, of course,” Cas says. “Can you please leave my room so I can continue showering?”

“No shower, only a bath,” Dean says, pointing to Cas’s injured leg as he stands. “I don’t wanna have to pick your ass off the floor when you slip and fall on that bum leg of yours.”

“Okay, mother,” Cas says with a roll of his eyes. Dean sniffs in annoyance as he turns the door handle and yanks open the door to walk into the hallway.

He meets Cas’s surprised eyes when he walks right back through the closet door of the bedroom. “Son of a bitch inn!” Dean barks.

. . . 

Cas’s fever spikes in the middle of the night. Dean only knows this because when he goes to the bathroom to get himself a drink of water from the sink, he ends up in Cas’s room instead.

“Not again,” he groans, beginning to turn around, when he hears Cas’s rough voice call his name.

“Cas? The hell are you doing up?” Dean whispers in the dark.

“My leg, there’s—” Cas hisses, his words cutting off, “a lot of pain.” 

Dean forces down the spike of worry in his gut. He flips on the bedroom light and walks to the bed, where Cas has burrowed himself deep into the blankets. Putting a hand on Cas’s sweaty forehead confirms his fear. “Okay, buddy, you’re burning up. I have Tylenol in my bag, just hang on.” 

Cas nods, wincing as he adjusts his leg on the bed. Dean turns before his eyes linger too long on Cas’s pale face. He walks through the door to the hallway… only to find himself back in Cas’s room via the closet.

Dean grinds out a curse and tries again. This time, he makes it to the hallway, but instead of walking through his room, he finds himself in the middle of Cas’s bathroom. He stalks out to the bedroom and ignores the amused look on Cas’s face.

“Look, you goddamn house, I’m trying to get him some freakin’ painkillers!” Dean yells up to the ceiling. “I’ll be right back, so don’t get your panties in a bunch. Jesus.” 

“I don’t think the inn has ears, Dean,” Cas says.

Dean points a finger menacingly. “Shut up and rest, and let me deal with this.” He shakes out his shoulders, takes a starting pose, and sprints through the door to the hallway before the house can realize what he’s doing. He continues running down the hall, like an idiot, to his bedroom. 

“At least it’s providing you a shortcut,” Cas says sleepily from the bed as Dean walks through his bathroom, Tylenol in hand.

“This inn is an asshole,” Dean replies. “Sit up.” Parking himself at the edge of Cas’s bed, he hands Cas two small Tylenol tabs and a plastic water bottle he found at the bottom of his bag.

Cas eyes him as he drinks the water, his throat a long column as he swallows the pills. “Don’t make that face.” 

“What face?”

“Your worried face. It makes me worried.” 

“So your leg got clawed to shreds by a ghoul, you have an infection, and you want me to not be worried? Is that what you’re sayin’?”

Cas leans against the headboard, arms crossed. His eyes are glassy from the fever, but they still retain a fire of defiance. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

Dean gusts a frustrated sigh. “You’ve barely been human for a month, Cas. I don’t want you pushin’ it.” 

“Dean.” Cas lays a hand over Dean’s, and Dean represses a shudder. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah. As an angel.” 

“Being human doesn’t make me any weaker.” 

Dean glares at their joined hands. “Yeah, whatever.” His thumb rubs over Cas’s knuckles distractedly. “You still can’t beat my ass at pool.” 

“That doesn’t require strength, Dean. Simply skill.”

“A-ha!” Dean points triumphantly at Cas. “Last time you lost, you broke a pool cue and said it was the stupidest game in human history and now you admit that you were wrong!” 

“Oh my god. I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says as Cas rolls over, his back to him, “just say that again real quick. I’m gonna record you on my phone.”

“Dean, please. I could die of a fever tonight.”

Dean knows it’s a joke, but that annoying prick of worry pokes him again painfully in his chest. He stands and deposits the Tylenol bottle forcefully on the bedside table. “Take this in four hours, okay, drama queen? I’ll be back to check on you.” 

Cas peeks over his shoulder at Dean. “Fine.” 

They hold the gaze for a few heavy moments. The offer to stay with him is on the tip of Dean’s tongue. 

“Just go to sleep,” Dean blurts, turning quickly on his heel. He shuts off the light before he leaves the room, and opens the door. He takes a steadying breath, and forces himself not to succumb to the pull of wanting to get into bed with Cas, holding that feverish little idiot to his chest until he sleeps off the infection.

But Dean’s resisting Cas’s gravity for years—so he resists the pull, and walks through the door.

Only to end up inches away from Cas’s bed.

They stare at each other, again, by the light of the moon spilling through those gaudy pink curtains. Dean works his jaw, trying to figure out what to say.

Cas finally shakes his head, and pulls the blanket up from his body; an invitation. “Well, we may as well do what the inn says.” 

“Uh. Are you—”

“Dean,” Cas says. 

With a grumble, Dean obeys, tentatively sliding into bed with Cas next to him. He clears his throat awkwardly as he settles in next to Cas, carefully not touching him, pulling the fluffy comforter up to his chest. They both lay next to each other on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“I have a thought,” Cas says into the dark.

“Did that hurt?” Dean asks.

“Shut up. I’m serious.” Cas takes a deep breath. “I feel as if the ultimate motive of this inn is to bring us together.”

“Okay.” 

“So perhaps we should—I don’t know. Let it.” 

Dean swallows a rock in his throat, and his voice is husky when he replies, “Uh-huh.” 

Cas turns his head to the side to look at Dean over his pillow. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m not an idiot.”  

But Dean doesn’t move. The fear won’t let him. And Cas sighs with the exhaustion only an ex-angel would have, saying, “Dean. My leg hurts very much, and I would like to sleep. Can we please just—cut the bullshit, as you would say, and you just—hold me?”

“You really are a grumpy bastard,” Dean says. The words come out gruff because of his nerves. He rolls over to push his chest into Cas’s back. He wraps one arm around Cas’s waist, and slips another under Cas’s neck. Cas grips Dean’s arms, and finally relaxes against Dean’s chest. Dean feels like he can die happy.

“I still think this inn is an asshole,” Dean mutters into Cas’s hair.

“You can burn it in the morning,” Cas says, placatingly tapping Dean’s arm where it lays across his chest.

And Dean may be imagining it, but as they drift off to sleep with their breaths moving in tandem, the walls sound as if they’re settling into a contented sigh, the buzzing energy of the house wilting into a dull murmur.

There is no way that Dean Winchester would ever stay at an inn.

But if it means holding Cas in his arms as he sleeps—maybe he’d do it again.