#the way dean saw castiel as cas since practically day one

[drulalovescas]

Castiel is: All powerful, incredibly intimidating, warrior of God, cosmic powerhouse the size of the Chrysler building

Meanwhile Dean:

[mlobsters]

supernatural s12e2 mamma mia (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)

whatever the fuck is happening here, no fucking thank you. evil mol lady in sam's head fucking information out of him? need to tally all the times someone's messed with his head, jesus. being resurrected soulless, having said soul shoved back in by dean via death with a wall, said wall being destroyed by cas to keep the boys occupied, trauma from said breaking causing lucifer hallucinations, becky's love potion, dean tricking him into saying yes to gadreel, am i forgetting anything? (too much plot to keep track of)

CASTIEL Don't make things needlessly complicated, as you humans tend to do. I'll call you.

oh damn, i need to get on that too. keep it simple, stupid

i really like the hair and makeup on mary this time. reminiscent of her s1 makeup

s4e21 sam hallucinating mom (nigh on unrecognizable, i thought she'd been recast!) / s1

MARY That yellow-eyed thing would never have come for him that night if I... I started all of this.

respectfully, what with the being michael and lucifer's One True Vessels, i don't think it matters what you did. which tripped some signal in my brain for a techno?? song with a line 'this has all happened before and it will all happen again'. i keep thinking the messiah album from 94 but hmm. argh. i need to drop this and figure it out later

thought we were done with the physical torture. silly me.

why are we with rowena now. and this dude who's been in a million things but who knows what i recognize him from. could be commercials, for all i know. and rick springfield, right. we're just going on with our weird little goofy plotlines and just cutting to awful torture periodically. sure.

MARY Sam had a chance to get out? And he came back? DEAN When Dad disappeared, Sam and I looked around, and something became very clear. That the only thing we had in this world – the only thing, aside from this car – was each other.

i will take that and tuck it in my pocket. mary looking (understandably) concerned

ROWENA I can't believe I'm once again down some dank hole seeking the devil! When does it end? It's exactly why I'm retiring to Boca Raton. With Ben.

stopped clenching my jaw over sam long enough to laugh, that was a good one

great, now dean's getting a beating too. just go wander about this place that's heavily warded, alone. not making good choices, dean (so we can get mary to come save the day again?)

the wing shadows are always fun and a lot easier to execute well compared to actual (practical or cg) wings but do miss a real wing unfurling from time to time. you know what had great wings?

clash of the titans (2010) that and shiny armor on the gods is all i remember honestly

internet died unexpectedly mid-episode so here i am day 2, again.

i will say. also. i really appreciate spn does cast people that are older for things that could be cool and badass or sexy or whatever. but i dunno if rick springfield was the best choice exactly for lucifer. since we're like, in theory trying to still do mark pellegrino's lucifer, maybe getting an actor-actor would have been a better fit

the way dean replied "hey" so soft and with a hint of a smile, my heart

(back to muting with evil lady)

and yes, to mary saving the day. man, she looks great. shoutout again to the makeup artists and stylists (and good lighting!)

they are really going above and beyond making this mol woman irredeemably awful. not one to encourage them just killing people straight out of the gate but i was hoping mary (or dean) would just shoot her. i dunno if the goal was try to get information or something but she has proven to be exceptionally dangerous time and time again. sam shoulda just shouted out for them to shoot. but less angsty drama so

seen this in meme format and knew it must be from this plotline, didn't realize they'd cropped mary out

gather there must have been some offscreen cas-healing. convenient

MARY But do you still like pie?

reminds me of a gifset i saw recently with jensen talking about his been conditioned to be excited about pie via dean lol

i have a variety of gags i don't love on this show, but dean eating as piggishly as possible is up there near the top.

i can't get over how beautiful she looks. bewitched me

MARY Well, we should call the Internet and find out as much as we can about these people. Did I say that right? DEAN So close. SAM Yeah, it was close.

that was very cute

the crazy awkward i can't begin to fathom for sam, not knowing mary at all (though dean barely did too, especially considering most kids don't retain those very early childhood memories)

SAM Dad's journal. His writing, his words. Helped me fill in some blanks, answer some questions I didn't know I had. And, you know, it – it – it keeps him with us, sort of. MARY Thank you. SAM Good night. MARY Dean said you got out of hunting. SAM Yeah. MARY And yet here you are. SAM Well, this is my family. My family hunts, you know? It's what we do. Mom. For me... just, um... having you here... fills in the biggest blank.

❤️ got me to tear up too - despite the slightly odd music cue for the hug - lyrics yes but not quite the right mood musically to me? (heart's lost angel). i think it works for the montage but the tone feels not quite right for the hug

i hope they're taking more pictures these days. damn bobby for burning the family picture with jo and ellen in 5x10. sam and dean both look at them regularly, should add some new ones

the apocalypse au picture?? had it paused trying to find jdm and then like whaa that's cas being human-apocalypse-casual. 5x04 (which includes some really wonky romantic music when sam and dean reunite, clip included)

and now we're back to cheesy action spy thriller with the whatever, expert assassin torturer whatever the fuck. giving whiplash

--

brief-ish rant. i've complained, often, annoyingly, about the torture in this show. pushing aside the fact that torturing for information doesn't work, i think it's the sheer volume in this show in particular that has me so kneejerk upset about it. most shows or movies i watch (because i'm not going to pick to watch things that advertised to have a lot of torture in them), i can look away through maybe a few scenes and okay moving on. but torture itself became an Important Character / Plot note thing for dean, and with the torture subjects often being not-human there's (presumably) less moral qualms about torturing them, along with just a general standard action trope of using it for information. it's just so common and so accepted as standard operating procedure. and i don't like it. i don't like depictions of it ever, but especially not with this show's frequency, and especially-especially not with my special guys doing the torturing or being subjected to it.

[huggybearsunshine]

Fewer Things Part 3

[Part 3] The gang summon the empty.

“If things go wrong, just… get them out of here.”

It was Dean’s only concern after ‘get Cas out,’ but everything had to be perfect. It had to work, because he owed Cas that much at least. He was all focus, all soldier, and it did not go unnoticed.

“Always so determined when it comes to getting that broken Angel back,” Chuck’s eyes narrowed in on the elder Winchester as his head lifted from where it went slack, “It was always ‘We’ve lost everything, we lost Cas! Bring him back!’”

“Stop,” Sam tried, but Dean held a hand up.

“No,“ he shook his head, “Ignore him. We have too much riding on this.”

“It’s always too much when it’s him, isn’t it, Dean?” Chuck continued.

“Come on,” he looked to Rowena, “Help me with this…”

But she didn’t move.

“Go on, Rowena,” Chuck had her frozen in place, “You gotta help him get his Angel.”

“Rowena,” Dean spoke more harshly, and something seemed to snap in her.

“That’s our Angel, you sniveling runt,” she hissed before joining Dean at his side, “What can I do?”

“That’s my question,” he finished rubbing his face, “What do you got in case this thing goes for anyone else?”

“Hi Sam,” the younger Winchester looked over to find himself now the sole object of Chuck’s attention, “How’s the shoulder been?”

“Sam,” Dean grabbed his arm, having approached unnoticed, “Wanna help Rowena?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, glancing toward the old god before moving to cross the room.

“Do you do anything but run your mouth?” the elder brother turned to Chuck before his avoidance got the best of him.

“I’m getting somewhere though, aren’t I?” the bound man grinned maliciously, “‘Cause you can barely seem to look at me.”

“I’ve just got more important things to worry about than you,” Dean brushed him off, knowing full well that he was right.

“Oh that you do,” he smirked back.

“Dean?” a delicate hand gripped his forearm and he turned to see Eileen’s eyes softening as they met with his, “We’re ready.”

He turned to find the other two eyes on him as well.

“Yeah, okay,” he finally nodded and crossed to them, “Let’s do this.”

He grabbed a knife and a familiar green jacket off of a table behind them, handling it like it were precious before scraping a few flakes from the handprint on its sleeve into the bowl.

Then he heard it before he saw it, that awful wet squelching noise.

He was instantly back to that day, watching it swallow him. Watching him disappear.

But what he didn’t expect was for Cas to be the one walking out of the goo.

“Hello, Dean,” but it wasn’t him.

It instantly felt so wrong it made the hunter’s skin crawl.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he recoiled back.

“I thought this would be a welcome visage,” it grinned, “My true form has a tendency to melt people’s minds.”

He didn’t realize he was shaking until Sam’s hand gripped him.

“Why am I here?” the shadow wearing Cas’ face asked, quickly growing impatient.

“I’ve got a deal for you, since you seem to like those so much,” Dean ground out through his teeth, “You give Cas back-“

“Not happening hunter, I’m having way too much fun with that one,” it practically laughed in glee.

“And we give you him,” Dean insisted on finishing.

The shadow’s eyes were on the bound man instantly and predatorily, “Oh, yes… I would like to have him.”

But before another word could be spoken, black tendrils shot out and claimed the old God much the same way it had claimed Cas.

“Wait,” Dean realized too late that he was retreating, “Hey, wait!”

He dove forward, but it was no use. The entity was gone. Chuck was gone. And Cas was nowhere to be seen.

“Cas!” his voice screamed, “Castiel!”

Then it was silent. A hollow sort of silence because it didn’t work.

He sank into himself and into his grief, this time fully lost of hope.

His hands reached up to cover his face and the sound that came out was more animal than man.

It didn’t work.

“Dean?” Sam stepped toward him, but Rowena’s hand caught his arm.

She shook her head, and he would almost swear he saw a mist to her eye.

She tugged and he let her walk him out of the room. Eileen got the message and also left to let Dean mourn without having to feel exposed.

But he was exposed nonetheless.

There were thoughts he couldn’t explain to himself, or maybe he could, but what did it matter anymore. Cas was really gone.

Cas was really dead.

Cas was… dead, leaving behind nothing but the voice in Dean’s head.

“Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being.”

“Garth,” Sam answered his persistently ringing phone as he was herded into the kitchen by the others, “Garth, I really can’t talk right now…”

“Sam, it’s important…” the other voice shook as much as his.

Eileen snatched the phone from his hand and hit the FaceTime button, waiting for the image to appear on screen, “Talk to me.”

But Sam couldn’t focus on any of it. Dean was going to be worse than ever after all of this. He was going to go even further over the edge than he was and Sam didn’t know what that would look like. He didn’t know if Dean would make it through this time, and that thought had his mind reeling.

“Sam,” Eileen’s voice pulled him back, but the eyes that met hers were desperate and lost.

“Garth,” he seemed to have to remind himself.

“He needs help,” she nodded, signing the words as she said them, “Dean needs you here. So, I’m taking care of this.”

Sam couldn’t even formulate a response but the look on his face must’ve given away his concern because Rowena stepped forward with a knowing look.

“I’ll help,” she offered and Sam’s eyes turned toward her gratefully.

Eileen simply shrugged with the hint of a smirk threatening her lip.

“It’ll be like a girl’s trip,” she looked between them, then a dip took her brow, “I’ve never had one of those.”

Dean pulled himself up to his feet as the walls closed in around him. But it wasn’t the walls. It was as if his own skin was too tight. His bones too big. His breath too heavy.

He looked around for any kind of relief, but found none.

But his feet carried him away, needing distance.

Needing to board that room up and never look at it again, but he didn’t have the strength. All he wanted in that moment was to fall to the ground.

Instead, he found himself in his room, jacket held tight in his hand.

He sat on his bed without looking where he was going, just looking at it.

The handprint. The only piece of him he had left.

He had to go.

But as he neared the garage he could hear the others’ voices and chickened out, choosing instead to duck into Cas’ room and sit in the rubble he created.

He’d been there for a while, long enough for his eyes to sting from crying, when he saw something beneath the bed.

The corner of a box, exposed in the destruction of the room.

He reached for it and tugged it toward him, flicking the lid off and looking at it like it might explode.

But there was no bomb inside, no literal bomb at least, however, the contents hit Dean like one nonetheless.

Inside was a scattering of things the two men had shared throughout the years.

A photo of Dean in his cowboy hat, the mixed tape, the FBI badge he’d made for Cas, and to his surprise, the amulet- or Samulet as that one girl who wrote the musical about their lives had called it. A few things from Claire and Jack were also among the items, but the most of it was him. He had kept these in a seemingly special place.

He did make himself at home, but he felt he had to hide it, and Dean wasn’t sure which was worse.

————————

@spuffy-destiel @destieliscanon5nov

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3  (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

*

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

*

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?  

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

[dean-mikaelson]

How do I look?

Tags: established relationship, post-canon, dean winchester wears castiel’s trenchcoat

Words: 1.8k

Summary:  As a human, Cas seems to prefer soft sweaters and hoodies. And most often then not - whatever he finds in Dean’s closet. Not that Dean is complaining.

Dean is looking at the coat like it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, which right now, it is. He never really liked it. Cas was wearing that damn rug for 12 years, hiding that body underneath. So sue him. He likes when Cas is wearing less layers. Less the better actually.

Why did he even wear it for so long?

Read below or on ao3

Sodas in one hand, popcorn in the other, Dean is heading back to his room, where Cas is supposed to be picking a movie for their movie night.

It’s probably (definitely) going to be another documentary, because if Cas could have his way, they would watch every single documentary about bees and flowers and everything else (he already made Dean watch at least three about ants).

He’s been alive for a million years, he literally was there when half of it was created, but he’s so amazed by every living creature. Chuck might’ve been a big piece of shit and a crappy writer, but he really did bring some beautiful things into being (Cas’s words, which was real fun to hear. Not every day you have the opportunity to hear an angel swear.)

So movie nights. It’s usually how it goes, either Dean picks an old movie, and answers a hundred and one questions from Cas (it doesn't bother him, he actually likes talking while watching a movie, pointing out every cool detail he notices, things he likes about it the most), or Cas picks a documentary and Dean sleeps through a half of it.

He stops before room 11 and pushes the door with his shoulder. He steps in only to find the room empty, except for Miracle, who, seeing him, wags her tail happily from her spot at the end of the bed. Cas must have gone to the bathroom or to check up on Jack while waiting for Dean to come back from the kitchen.

It took him longer than it should, because Eileen was in the kitchen and they started talking about the new pirate show.

Dean’s laptop is on the bed, so he puts the sodas on the nightstand and lays down, placing popcorn in the middle of the bed.

He sees that Cas has already picked something, a documentary of course. Huh, it’s about the ocean, so maybe it won’t be so bad. Ocean is awesome. Extremly fucking terrifying. Humans don’t actually know a damn thing about it, maybe he can ask Cas if he knows what the hell Chuck put in there.

He starts scrolling through his phone, waiting for Cas to get back. It’s been a few minutes and Dean is getting bored. He puts down his phone and looks around the room, because just maybe something interesting will suddenly magically appear.

And that’s when he sees it. It’s actually been there for months, because it’s too cold for Cas to wear outside, now that he’s human, since they had to cut out his grace to get him back from the empty.

On a hanger next to the closet is the trenchcoat.

Dean doesn't even remember the last time he saw Cas wearing it. Thinking about it, it must have been the night they rescued him almost a year ago. He hung it there after taking a shower and it’s been there ever since.

As a human, Cas seems to prefer soft sweaters and hoodies. And most often then not - whatever he finds in Dean’s closet. Not that Dean is complaining.

Dean is looking at the coat like it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, which right now, it is. He never really liked it. Cas was wearing that damn rug for 12 years, hiding that body underneath. So sue him. He likes when Cas is wearing less layers. Less the better actually.

Why did he even wear it for so long? Every time it got destroyed or lost, Cas bought a new, practically identical one. Spending so many years on earth, you would have thought the guy would start wearing something different, but guess not.

It’s not the first time he’s thinking about it and he stands up and walks over to the hanger, on the way making sure the door to his room is closed (for absolutely no reason) and quickly takes the coat. Giddiness building inside him.

The material is soft, but he already knew that, after spending so many nights with it folded up under his head like a pillow or draped over him like a blanket, either when Cas was gone and he needed to feel him close, or when Cas gave it to him when they had to spend the night sleeping in the Impala when there weren’t any motels anywhere on the way home from a case.

The second thing he notices is that it doesn’t smell like Cas anymore, which also isn’t really surprising, but it makes him sad somehow.

Then he quickly slides it on, because he remembers that Cas might come back any minute now, and walks over to the mirror. Turning to see Miracle looking at him with big, happy eyes. Tail wagging faster and faster and he grins at her.

‘’How do I look?’’ She obviously doesn’t answer, but she sits and paws at him excitedly. ‘’I’m gonna take that as ‘good’, thank you.’’

In the mirror he sees that it looks bigger on him than it did on Cas. He may be taller, but Cas was always broader.

Then, a big, dumb smile spreads across his face as there is only one thing he has to do before Cas comes back (what is taking him so long anyway?)

‘’ Hello, Dean ,’’ he mimics, lowering his voice impossibly. An even bigger smile on his face.

‘’ I’m an Angel of the Lord ,’’ he tries another one, but his voice cracks a little at the end and it doesn’t sound right. He laughs through it anyway.

‘’Oh, I know!’’ he clears his throat, ‘’ I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,’’ and he can’t help but giggle (manly) at that one.

‘’Woof!’’

‘’You liked it?’’ Dean asks Miracle, chuckling.

‘’Yes, I did,’’ answers a deep, highly amused voice behind him.

Dean is pretty sure he gets a heart attack. He turns around fast, tripping over nothing but air or his own feet, almost face planting the floor.

He straightens, face red. ‘’I- it wa- I just- err, no. Nothing! Wha- what?’’ yeah, that was a very complex sentence. He’s definitely going to pat himself on the back for that one later.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Cas asks, leaning against the doorway. He starts looking a little nervous himself, ‘’were you making fun of me?’’

‘’What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?’’ He remembers he’s still wearing the coat and he tries to take it off. 'Tries' is of course a key word here, because his hands started shaking from embarrassment and now he’s kind of stuck in it.

When he finally gets it off, he just throws it on the floor. It’s too close to him, so he kicks it a little to the left, acting like nothing ever happened. Then he  leans back against the closet and, again, tries to look casual. Maybe it would even work if his face wasn’t still burning red like a goddamn tomato.

Cas looks suspiciously like he’s trying very hard not to laugh and he fails the moment Dean glares at him for it. He pushes off the doorway and starts walking across the room in Dean’s direction. He eyes the trenchcoat, lying on the floor like crime evidence.

‘’So what were you doing?’’ He asks again when he’s in front of Dean. Amusement clear in his voice. The bastard.

‘’Nothing! I was just you know, handing out,’’ which sounds too much like a question. Cas just raises that one damn brow at him, and in Dean’s defense, it works on everyone, not only him. ‘’Don’t look at me like that! Come on, you wear my clothes all the time! That’s literally my t-shirt,’’ he gestures at Cas accusingly, counting it somehow is going to work.

‘’Dean.’’

‘’Cas,’’ he’s gonna pretend later it wasn’t a whine, ‘’I was bored. I just wanted to see what it was like,’’ he grunts, looking at his feat. Sheepish.

Cas huffs a little laugh at him (asshole), ‘’come here,’’ he says as he slips his fingers through Dean’s belt loops and pulls him closer. Dean grumbles, but who is he not to kiss Cas back.

After a moment he pulls away and hides his face in Cas’s neck, ‘’It’s cool, I guess’’ he mutters. ‘’Still don’t get why you were wearing it for so long, though.’’

‘’I never really thought about it. As an angel I didn’t feel the need to change clothes much. I didn’t feel discomfort and I could just ‘mojo’ it to be clean,’’ he shrugs and he sounds odd. ‘’It was easier.’’

‘’But it wasn’t just it, right?’’

‘’No. At first it was that, yes. But later it kind of became a part of me. Remember when I freed the leviathans?’’ Dean grunts in affirmation, kinda hard to forget. ‘’When you found me, I didn’t have any memories. I didn’t know who I was, and when I finally remembered, you gave me my coat back. You kept it for so long and when you handed it over you said that a part of you always believed that I would come back. It felt significant somehow, like I wouldn’t really back if I wasn’t wearing it.’’

‘’But you’re not wearing it now.’’

‘’I guess before, I needed something to remind me who I was. Something that I could look at myself in the mirror and recognise the person I’m looking at. But I was always hiding a big part of myself, which was loving you,’’ he smiles and caresses Dean’s cheek with his thumb, before letting his hand fall and intertwining their fingers together, ’’so I’m not wearing the coat now, because I'm not the same Cas anymore. Now I can finally be my real self and I can express myself better, by wearing different clothes for example,‘’ Cas says beaming.

‘’I like the real you. You’re happy.’’

‘’I am,’’ he answers with another big smile and pecks Dean on the lips and steps back. ‘’Come on,’’ as he tags Dean towards the bed. ‘’We were supposed to watch a movie.’’ Cas sits back against the headboard and beckons Dean to lay with him, which he does, laying down with his head on Cas’s thigh. Miracle shuffles to lay behind his legs.

‘’We can watch something else if you want to,’’ Cas offers, his finger hovering over the play button. ‘’I know you don’t like documentaries.’’

‘’No, it’s okay. I want to watch the ocean thing.’’ Cas presses play and puts the laptop down, so they can both see the screen. Dean gets the popcorn closer, ‘’I have to ask you something about it later by the way.’’

''What is it?''

‘’What the fuck was Chuck’s deal with a blobfish? Did he sneeze it out or something?’’

[unalivejournal]

u mentioned only reading kripke era fic do you have a reclist 👀👀👀and if not could you link some of ur faves cuz the stuff that gets circulated the most right now is all like late late seasons fic and kripke era is my favorite too but im having trouble finding that many fics for it or even seasons 6-10 era which im fine with also. its just that like. the last five seasons were so bad that it makes fic generally worse too because people have to jump off of just Thee stupidest plot choices no matter how good their prose skills might be. but anyway yea if u have recs that would be awesome :)

hi anon i was thinking abt making a reclist and u just gave me the perfect excuse thank u

jess adamilligan’s kripke era fic recs

from making this ive learned that i never bookmark ANYTHING. sorry all of these r like….. 10k and under. i DO read longer fic but i don’t have any kripke era longfics bookmarked & tbh i prefer short oneshots

season one gen

disclaimer because it’s unfortunately needed: NONE of these are w*ncest! they’re all completely tagged as gen and i did not read them with the intent of consuming ship content.

Coaster Park by fogsrollingin, 10.4k, G, gen

Coaster Park had been experiencing an unusually high frequency of technical difficulties. Dean wouldn't have pulled a shift treating nauseated, heat-stroked, or dehydrated park-goers for that if he could've helped it, but when 'technical difficulties' were accompanied by rumors of things moving and stopping on their own in front of the operators' eyes, Dean had to throw down.

No historical tragedies or disasters in the area, ectoplasm, or EMF. Dean's only lead was a battered-looking kid that'd been coming to the park every day since it'd all started.

really interesting au fic! slightly ‘it’s a terrible life’. dean winchester is a hunter/EMT and sam wesson is a college kid destined to die on a roller coaster ride.

two basic motivating forces by sahwen, 7.8k, T, gen

He can’t cry, it’s not allowed; even as a child he was hushed into silence, whether his tears were from a long car ride or a late night or a raging fever. It’s never been an option, it’s never been an available outlet, and it’s not about to start being one just because he’s having an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor.

Sam isn't only afraid of clowns.

BIG emetophobia tw (both for graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting and for the fact that this fic is about sam suffering from emetophobia) for this one but it’s my favorite sickfic. portrays anxiety over getting sick really well and is a fascinating examination of the different ways that sam’s fear of loss of control can manifest itself. also has lovely brothers content <3

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning (Remix of Just as Easy as 123) by nwspaprtaxis, 4k, T, gen

Dean’s functionally illiterate and Sam’s determined to remedy it...

PLEASE READ THIS ONE god it’s so sweet. dean never learned how to read properly due to his nomadic childhood and sam teaches him how.

dean/cas

Broadway Musical by Griftings, 9k, M, m/m

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

somewhat of a fandom classic and the humor holds up wonderfully. a very silly fic completed with commentary from angel radio throughout the entire thing.

Sappiest Season by dollsome, 2.7k, G, m/m

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

hilarious little s5ish fic. one of the first i read when getting back into spn. i don’t want to spoil anything but this is my favorite pick me up and i still giggle randomly whenever i think about it

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday

Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.

another fandom classic. ik this one is recced a lot but how could i NOT include it. dean and cas get married (mostly by accident) and they’re huge cunts about it

the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on by prufrock, 2.4k, T, gen + m/m

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

or, after the events of S5E03 "Free to Be You and Me," Dean teaches Cas to drive. Cas finds it stressful

im always a sucker for a good ftbyam fic. also i can’t drive so. resonation

So Says The Sword by komodobits, 85k, E, m/m

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

NO introduction neede. i think everyone on spntumblr has read this already but still. if you haven’t then i am demanding that you read it NOW. tbh i’m just adding this one so that i have at least one long fic here 😭

the weight by @myaimistrue, 3.5k, T, gen + m/m

“Do you…” Bobby sighs. “Listen, Dean, do you have something you wanna tell me?”

It’s the conversational equivalent of being punched in the stomach.

Or, Dean works through some things with Bobby's help.

WHEN I SAW THE USERNAME I GASPED I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS U. anyway i Love coming out fics idk why i just do. the world is ending and dean comes out to bobby

canticles by 2street2car, 10.3k, T, m/m

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”

feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

another ftbyam fic that skepticalfrog (i believe?) recommended a while back. made me feel at least 28 new emotions

Epilogue by JayneL, 28k, E, m/m

Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means-- Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means--

Cas is no longer when he was. Lucifer sent him back.

Coda to 'The End'.

2014 cas gets sent back to 2009, feelings ensue etc. i don’t remember all the details of this one bc it’s been a while but it’s really good

bonus

currently reading

Fragile As We Lie by perilously, 11k, E, f/f

Dragging Bela Talbot out of perdition isn't so much a decision as it is a frantic choice based on gut instinct. Her soul is bright, if fractured, and Anna yearns to do good again after the perversion of free will that immediately preceded her death.

Bela's no ordinary human, though; she's prickly and damaged and beautiful, and Anna doesn't want to leave her side. So maybe they can figure out how to navigate post-resurrection, post-Apocalypse-that-wasn't Earth together.

[fantasmalresplendent]

Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him. 

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

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

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

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end. 

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother. 

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.” 

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.” 

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming. 

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

  When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

  Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory. 

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…” 

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring. 

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out. 

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze. 

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry." 

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on. 

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean’s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go. 

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it. 

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

[hobis-hope94]

~The Middle Winchester 4~

Summery: Dean finds out about Y/N’s loving relationship with Bucky, and he’s furious.

Part 3 here:

the middle winchester part 3

Paring: Bucky x Winchester!F!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N Winchester & Bucky Barnes. Castiel and Sam Winchester are mentioned, so are the other avengers.

Warning: crying, Dean’s a dick (Castiel too sorry!!), kissing, some angst with fluffy ending and implied smut.

(gifs not mine):

It had been a few months of secret dates with Bucky. You had threatened Castiel on multiple occasions not to breath a word to your brothers about the relationship.

Anytime Castiel was alone with Dean or Sam, your heart rate sped up. Anytime they would re enter the room, you got ready for a blow out. But it didn’t happen. Yet.

Until one day.

“Dean! What’re you doing in my room? You know you’re not allowed in here,” you said, entering your room, Dean was sat at your desk.

“…how long has this been going on for, Y/N?” Dean asked firmly, he was clutching your phone. He knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, taking the phone from him.

“You’re seeing him, Y/N. Don’t act dumb with me!” Dean snapped.

“Oh my god, Dean. I’m not a child. You’re forgetting I’m only two minutes younger than you!” You snapped, folding your arms. “How did you even know about Bucky?” You asked, you knew how and you were fuming.

“Does it matter? You’re not allowed to see him anymore. He’s dangerous,” Dean snapped.

“You’re sick, Dean. He’s not dangerous, he’s a victim!!” You snapped, pure rage was coming from you now.

If you were a cartoon, your face would be bright red and your ears would have steam coming out.

“He killed loads of people!” Dean shouted.

“HE DIDN’T! The Winter Soldier did and that’s not him. You don’t know Bucky like I do,” you said angrily.

“He’s The Winter Soldier, Y/N. Always will be. I’m not letting you see him. Not a chance,” Dean snapped, snatching your phone from you.

“What’re you going to do? Ground me?”

You asked.

“I just want you safe, Y/N. You’re not when you’re with him. Until you see him the way he truly is, I’m not letting you leave the bunker without either me Cas or Sam,” Dean said.

“I’m an adult Dean. I’m a grown woman I don’t need babysitting. Plus I’m an avenger-“ you said, tears stinging at your eyes. You hated fighting with your twin.

“An honorary Avenger. That doesn’t count,” Dean said coldly.

You gasped. The guys had always been so proud of you for being part of the Avengers. Now you knew how they really saw you.

“I … thought you were proud of me,” you said tearfully.

Dean said nothing, he slammed the door shut of your bedroom. You sunk onto your bed and cried. Dean hated you. He probably thought got in the way.

——

Dean might have taken your personal phone, but he didn’t know about the secret phone that you used to contact the Avengers if ever need.

So today you did. You decided to tell the avengers about the massive blow out you had with your twin. Since they’re family, you trusted them a great deal.

They came to your aid straight away. They practically busted you out of the bunker without Dean, Sam or Cas knowing.

“Doll? You okay?” Bucky asked you gently when you arrived in the compound with teary eyes.

You fell onto him in a tight hug, he hadn’t been hugged for a really long time, so he wasn’t sure how to react. He gently put his arms - careful with his metallic arm - around you.

“Hey, no. Shush. You’re okay,” Bucky said gently, kissing the side of your head gently.

“I sometimes really hate my brothers,” you sobbed.

“Doll. You didn’t have to stick up for me like that. They’re your family,” Bucky said gently as he kept an arm around you and carried your suitcase and led you to your room.

“But what they think of you isn’t true, Bucky. You’re a victim. Why can’t they see that? Why can’t they see the man I see?” You said, your voice cracking.

“I don’t care what they think of me. I don’t care what the other avengers think of me. I only care about what you think of me,” Bucky said gently, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

“…can….can you spend the night with me please?” You asked with a wobbly voice.

“We’ve only been going out a few months,” Bucky said slowly.

“You don’t have to sleep in my room. Just…stay. For a little while? Please? I …don’t want to be alone,” you said tearfully.

Bucky nodded softly. You both entered your bedroom, that was always kept the way you liked it just in case you were in town.

Bucky helped you unpack and waited on the chair next to the window while you showered and got in your comfy clothing.

Once you showered, and were dressed, you took the seat opposite Bucky.

“You know I really don’t mind about what your brother thinks about me, don’t you, doll?” Bucky asked gently.

You were sat opposite Bucky, twiddling Mary Winchester’s wedding ring around your right finger. You found it when you went to John’s safe, it fit you perfectly and you never took it off.

“I…just hate that Dean’s so dumb and -“ you said tearfully.

“Baby,” Bucky said gently, taking your hand and looking at you. “I’m used to people fearing me. I don’t care anymore.” He added

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it. It’s not fair,” you said tearfully, staring at his beautiful ocean blue eyes that made you feel safe.

“When you’re a soldier, you-“ Bucky was cut off. Your lips found his.

He pulled apart and stood up.

“Y/N. I don’t think this is right …” Bucky said slowly and tearfully, despite him wanting to kiss you.

“Bucky. I’m saying it’s okay,” you said gently.

“…are you sure?” Bucky asked tearfully as you stood up.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said, kissing him passionately.

He kissed you back and gently turned you around. Before he laid you down, he looked at you again, you nodded.

He gently and lovingly laid you down.

[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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[a-deed-without-a-name]

Dean was already pretty big when he started going to ‘Angel’s Delight,’ the new baker in town. The Baker, Cas, is cute and the food is AMAZING. How can he say no?

The chairs were fairly sturdy when he Stryker going, but over the months the creaking had grown more and more pronounced, until one day the chair finally breaks under him. Dean is on the floor embarrassed, and doesn’t know what to do having just made a fool of himself in front of his crush.

He needn’t worry though, because Cas asks him out then and there.

"Wh-what?" Blinking rapidly, Dean stared up at Castiel. Cas - that was what it said on the nametag, flanked by little cartoony wings, pinned to the strap of his apron, and that was what Dean had been calling him this whole time.

He couldn't have heard what he thought he did. His head was still swimming with shock, his ass still smarting from the impact with the floor...though not (he thought guiltily) as much as it could have been. Should have been. If he hadn't had so much of a cushion.

Cas, crouching, smiled at him. God, was he ever cute. Blue eyes, scruff, messy black hair with pale streaks in it...those had confused Dean at first, since Cas was nowhere near old enough to be going gray, until he saw him run a flour-covered hand back through it at the end of a shift. Way too cute for Dean, even as he'd been several months ago.

"Let me repeat myself," Cas said, in that raspy, gravelly voice that practically sounded like sex itself. "Would you like to go to dinner sometime?" He glanced around them. "I'd ask if you wanted to get coffee, but, well...we've been having coffee together for a while now, haven't we?"

Dean guessed he was right about that. Ever since he'd started coming after work in addition to in the morning, stopping by with his eye on the day-old pastries Cas always marked generously down and, eventually, started giving to him for free, they had a little bit of a routine once the bakery was empty of everybody but them. Dean ate, drinking coffee, and Cas made a cup himself, drank it while leaning against the display case, and they made conversation. Much as they could between the doughnuts and Danishes Dean couldn't stop cramming in his mouth.

He'd known even then it wasn't a good idea, making such a pig of himself in front of Cas, even if he didn't really seem to mind. (Maybe he had. He'd sure watched him closely, and looked at Dean's belly a lot.) He'd gone from "chubby" to "fat" to...whatever he was now in eight months' time, and he didn't have anybody to blame for what had just happened but himself.

"...why?" he asked blankly, because he honestly could not fathom why Cas would want to take him to dinner.

Cas chuckled softly, then asked him, "Why do you think?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, even though he wasn't sure what he was going to say, because his mind was pretty much blank. But before he could answer, one of Cas's hands was on his gut, very full of carbs and sugar, very round, very heavy (as the wreckage of the chair scattered around him could prove). And the other one was on his plump cheek, where a humiliated blush was still slowly fading. And Cas's lips were on his.

His mouth was soft and warm, and tasted like coffee and powdered sugar.

Dean's blush came back with a vengeance.

"O-oh," he said shakily, when Cas finally pulled away. It took him a second after that to remember how to breathe.

Cas chuckled again. "Yes. 'Oh.'" He examined Dean, then cocked his head, almost birdlike. One of a thousand little tics Dean had picked up on over the months, acting like stepping stones leading him further into love with Cas. "You do like men, correct?"

"Yes," Dean blurted, and barely stopped himself from tacking on I like you.

Cas nodded, as if Dean had confirmed a suspicion. "I do, as well. I like large men. Very large." He straightened. "I have some apple pie cupcakes in the back. I had intended to put them out tomorrow, but...I believe they need to be tested first. Would you be interested?"

Dean smiled up at him from the floor, grinning so wide it practically pushed the fat of his cheeks up in front of his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Hell yeah."

[fics-of-culture]

Of Shortcomings and Short Winchesters

Requested by anonymous

Castiel x Short Female Reader

Summary: The youngest Winchester had always been on the shorter end of the spectrum. What happens when our favorite trench coat wearing angel makes her feel insecure about that fact? Very minimal angst. Mostly fluff.

Words: 2,433

You were sitting silently in front of the desk in Bobby’s house, pouring over dozens of lore books pertaining to both heaven and impending the apocalypse when you felt it again. Eyes were boring into the back of your head for the third time in the past twenty minutes. You snap your head to side, just fast enough to see the side of Castiel’s face as he turns away from you and pretends to observe some of the books on the shelves behind you. This sort of thing had been happening a lot lately. While your brothers were out on hunts, Castiel had taken to spending more time with you at Bobby’s. The two of you were currently searching for solutions to this whole ‘apocalypse’ conundrum. Apparently Castiel, or Cas as your brother Dean had started referring to him, had also taken to observing you when he thought you were unaware. You turn your head back to the book before you before deciding to call him out on his not so subtle staring.

“Do you need anything, Cas?” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice, but to be frank, you’d appreciate Cas’ presence a little more if he were actually working and not just gawking at you. You’re not sure you did a very good job at seeming neutral because the moment you spoke, the angel froze. Like he’s been caught with his hand halfway in the cookie jar. Not that angels needed such sustenance, as Cas frequently reminded you whenever you offered him food, but you get the gist of it.

“No.” Castiel managed to choke out after some time, his voice seeming gruffer than usual. ‘As if that’s even possible’, a helpful part of your brain chimes out. You shrug off the thought as he continues. “Actually, I was just about to ask if you needed my help with anything.” ‘Anything?’ Your traitorous mind ponders. You turn your head to observe Cas for the first time since this conversation started. His head was cocked to the side in that adorable way of his as he awaited your response.

“Actually now that you mention it,” You say, thoughtfully. Rising from your seat, you brush past the bashful angel as you step in front of the bookshelf Cas was just staring at. “Sam mentioned one of these books needing translation.” You tell him as you attempt to find the book Sam spoke of earlier. You’d looked through each shelf before you found it… sitting comfortably on the top shelf. You let out a small sigh as you look at it, silently debating the least embarrassing way to get your hands on it. It was no secret that you had not been gifted with the same freakishly long legs that your brothers had inherited from the family. But that being said, you’d still like to humiliate yourself as little as possible in front of the perfect angel you’d come to know as Castiel. Sure, he was nice, but you weren’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t tease you if he saw you hoping up on a stool just to get one book down. With this thought in mind, you hesitantly raise your arm, pulling your body up on your tiptoes to see if you can’t reach the book by yourself. Your shirt rides up as you stretch, showing off a small portion of your back. Your fingers brush against the spine of the book and you can immediately tell that you’re not gonna be able to pull it out. You’re just about to sigh and admit defeat when you feel a hand placed gently on your hip. A chest presses against your back as you see a trench coat clad arm reach up to join yours. This arm has a much longer reach, however and manages to easily pull the needed book off the tall shelf. You let your arm drop uselessly by your side as Castiel steps away from you, lore book in hand. 

“You um… you seemed like you were having trouble.” Cas gestures towards the shelf awkwardly as he explains himself. You try to swallow your embarrassment and having needed help before turning back to the task at hand.

“Thanks.” You say shyly. He gives you a small smile before turning back to the newly retrieved lore book.

“So, did Sam say which pages needed translating?” He places the book on Bobby’s desk before leafing through a few pages. You move to stand next to him as he searches through the book. He flips through most of the book before you spot a few highlighted pages.

“There,��� You point out to Cas. “Sam said he highlighted the part he couldn’t understand. He said he couldn’t even tell what language it was in.” Cas nodded as he looked over the page.

“I’m not surprised Sam couldn’t understand this. It’s Enochian.” Castiel’s finger trailed over the page as he started to translate it. Eyes squinting slightly as he focuses on the page before him.

“Enochian?” You asked. Cas let out a grunt of confirmation as he read.

“It is the language of the angels.” He told you distractedly. Clearly focused on his task of translating the angelic language. You let out a small ‘huh’ as you observed the page. The script was beautiful, you observed idly. You allowed your fingers to trace over the printed runes away from the text Castiel was reading, not wanting to distract him as you observed his language. You seemed to have failed in this endeavor however, as when you looked up from the page you noticed that Cas had paused his reading and was instead staring intently at your small hand as it glided along the page. You decide to break the tension that was suddenly filling the room.

“So you can speak this language?” this question seemed to break the angel out of his trance. He cleared his throat before looking up at you.

“Yes, although it is quite difficult for humans to understand.” You nod as he explains. “This however,” He gestures back to the book. “Will be of no use to us. It has no information on the apocalypse and is instead a guide on angel reproduction.” You feel your eyebrows shoot up as he says this.

“Angels can reproduce?” Castiel looks positively sheepish now. A slight blush rising on his face.

“Sometimes.” He says quietly. He clears his throat again. “But it is not the same as human reproduction. Humans are… unique in their manner of reproduction.” Cas’ sentence trails off uncertainly and you start to realize just how uncomfortable the topic seems to be making him. So naturally you decide to continue it, if only to see how red you can make the trench coat wearing angel turn.

“How so?” You ask innocently. Castiel seems to be desperately avoiding your gaze now.

“Like uhh…” He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. All the while studying the wall in front of him, as though it held the answers he was seeking. “Genetics!” Castiel exclaims suddenly, turning to meet your eyes again. You can’t help but find yourself a bit disappointed that Cas had managed to dig himself out of the hole he had been creating. Cas continues regardless. “For example, it is strange to me how some members of a family can look as though they do not belong.” You couldn’t help but feel a little lost at the sudden turn the conversation took. But you decided to humor Cas by going along with it.

“I don’t think I follow.” You tell him, waiting patiently for him to clarify.

“Like you and your brothers. It is odd that out of your entire family, you look as though you could possibly be completely unrelated to the others. What with your small stature and the Winchester family’s history of having tall offspring.” This statement caused you to freeze in place. Somewhere in the rational part of your brain you knew Castiel didn’t mean it like that, but it was too late. Years of repressed insecurity managed to take hold of your brain. Years of feeling you weren’t good enough. Not large enough both literally and figuratively, to fill the shoes of your hunter family. Not good enough to to be taken out on hunts with your brothers. Not strong enough to save your father. Not even tall enough to be considered a Winchester. If Cas noticed the shift in your mood as he spoke he did not show it. Instead, he seemed content to rattle off facts about genetics in different species. You couldn’t stay here. You turned away from Cas suddenly, making some excuse about needing to use the bathroom before rushing out of the room. Leaving a confused angel in your wake.

-

You had spent the past few hours holed up in one of the spare rooms in Bobby’s house. To take your mind off of Cas’ harsh words you let your attention be completely consumed by lore. Bobby had gotten home an hour ago and even knocked on your door, but you couldn’t find it in you to get up and greet him. He must’ve been able to tell that you weren’t feeling well because he left you alone after that. Somewhere in your mind you’re aware that you shouldn’t be letting Castiel’s words affect you like this, but some days it was difficult not to let your insecurities consume you. And it had hurt all the more hearing the words fall from Cas’ lips. You regarded his opinion very highly. He was a practically perfect angel after all. And the idea that he might see you as being the weak link of your family hurt more than you’d like to admit. You had been working up the courage to leave your safe haven when you heard a commotion down the hall. It sounded like two voices having a heated discussion. Well, one voice on the receiving end of a heated discussion. But try as you might, you couldn’t really make out what they were saying or who was speaking. A few moments later and the hall was back to being silent. You were just about to stand up and see what was going on when a knock sounded at your door.

“Y/n? May I come in?” You hear Castiel’s voice, muffled by the door. You steel yourself before telling him to come in. You wait with bated breath as he silently enters the room, stepping carefully as though he would startle you if he made any noise. “May I?” He speaks softly as he gestures to the bed in the center in the room. You nod and he seats himself a bit unsurely on the bed. You place yourself beside him, waiting to see what he wanted. His eyes were focused on his lap as he spoke. His posture resembled that of a reprimanded child. “You disappeared earlier. And when Bobby returned home, he seemed to think that I had somehow managed to upset you. I’m unsure whether this is true or not, but I came to tell you that if I managed to offend you, I am sorry. I did not mean to.” Your guarded exterior melts a bit when his eyes meet yours. His piercing gaze seemed to desperately search yours. Looking to see if he truly had caused offence. You let out a small sigh as you try to think of how to explain to an angel that his earlier words had hurt you.

“I know you didn’t mean to, but you hurt me earlier when you said I did not look like a Winchester.” Castiel opened his mouth suddenly as if to dispute you, but you carried on. “I’ve spent my entire life feeling like I’m not good enough for this family, so to have you remind me of one of my many shortcomings… it hurt.” Castiel slowly closed his mouth and let out a sigh as he looked back again at his lap. The room remained silent for several minutes. 

“It is not a shortcoming.” You hear Cas whisper quietly to himself.

“What?” You ask. His head jerks up suddenly and he fixes you again with his piercing blue eyes. 

“Your height. It is not a shortcoming. And it certainly has no effect on how I view you as a hunter. In fact, smaller fighters have many advantages over larger adversaries.” You smile softly at him as he speaks, resting a hand on his knee. He turns to look at it as he continues. “Besides, it is my understanding that some men find themselves more attracted to short women.” You chuckled a bit as Castiel spoke shyly, not daring to face you.

“Did you just call me cute?” You ask hesitantly. 

“I believe I called you ‘attractive’” Castiel corrected as he turned to look at you. His face slightly flushed from the sudden turn in the conversation. He was biting his lower lip nervously. You felt yourself growing bold.

“Do you find shorter girls attractive, Castiel?” You slid closer to him as your hand slid a bit up his leg. The angel stared at you dumbfounded for a moment, before visibly plucking up his courage. His back straightened as he regarded you.

“Only if that girl is you.” He spoke so quietly you weren’t entirely certain you had heard him at all. But the look he was giving you all but confirmed what he had said. His eyes sliding down your face every few seconds to observe your lips. Giving them a look that could only be described as a desperate need. “I have enjoyed getting to know you recently. I find myself spending a surprising amount of time thinking of you.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his confession. Castiel starts to lean in slowly. Watching your face for any sign of hesitation. When he is only a hair's breadth away he pauses. “May I kiss you, Y/n?” You nod. Not trusting yourself to speak in this moment. A look of pure relief flashes across Castiel’s face before he closes the gap between the two of you. It is several moments before you break the surprisingly heated kiss. Your head resting against Cas’. If an angel could be out of breath, that is how you would describe him in this moment. You let out a small chuckle and Castiel cocks his head slightly.

“My brothers are gonna kill you.” Cas’ smile grows even wider at this.

“For you, I would fight through a thousand Winchester brothers.”

[deangirl-interrupted]

You Wake up a Stranger to Yourself (then you learn to live with her)

For @spnwomenweek Day 2: Family Claire POV Claire/Kaia Wayward Sisters Fluff Background Destiel & Saileen Rated: T (just some swearing) Note:  Niamh is pronounced “Neeve”

______________________________________________

You're not a Winchester.

Until, one day, you are.

Claire watched the ceremony with a certain smug satisfaction, from her place beside Castiel as his "best man."

She knows that Castiel's used the name Novak when he's needed Jimmy's old I.D. (and face) to do useful things like rent cabins in which to raise the child of Lucifer. But it's never truly been his. It's a name he stole.

But when he and Dean got married, with the legal papers and everything (thanks to Charlie) Castiel was given the gift of the name Winchester.

That gift was sealed with a kiss.

Claire watched as Sam clapped Cas on the back and said, "You've always been one of us."

***

When Sam finally popped the question to Eileen, it had been three years since they'd defeated Chuck and saved the world again. Dean kept hassling him, telling him to man up and just do it. Sam kindly reminded him that he'd spent an infuriating twelve years pining for his husband, so kindly shut the fuck up about it.

Eileen had no intention of dropping her ancestral last name, and Sam had absolutely no problem with that. They decided to hyphenate to Leahy-Winchester, with both of them taking that name.

Claire was 25 when she found herself on a hunt with Eileen. They'd known each other for years, of course, but had never hunted together. Claire had been practicing her ASL since before Sam and Eileen got hitched, and Eileen was impressed with the ease and fluidity that Claire had mastered.

It was a simple salt and burn, nothing too strenuous, so they had some down time.

Leaning up against the side of Claire's car, Eileen suddenly said, "This is my last case."

Claire blinked at her a few times before saying and signing, "What, why?"

Eileen gave her a shit-eating grin and slowly rubbed a hand over her abdomen. "I'm brewing a new Leahy-Winchester."

Claire cackled. After hugging Eileen and wiping happy tears from her eyes, she said, "The monsters won't know what hit them."

***

Claire let Kaia drive them to go meet baby Niamh Leahy-Winchester.

Claire had been jumpy and nervous for some reason. She hadn't actually been back to Jody's in an age, and she hadn't seen the Winchester clan in even longer.

It's not that she didn't want to, she'd just been busy traveling with Kaia, looking at the world as an explorer and not just a hunter. Actually stopping to see some sights and stuff. And it's not like she hadn't been texting everyone! They had a group chat! It was a perfectly legit way to stay in touch!

She felt a bit guilty about it, anyway.

Kaia looked over at her and smiled, as if she could tell what Claire was thinking. Hell, maybe she could.

"It'll be fine," Kaia said as they pulled to a stop in front of a one story rancher with yellow siding, a white dogwood tree in the front yard, and a devil's trap painted underneath the welcome mat.

They held hands as they approached the house, and didn't bother knocking since the door was cracked anyway.

Everyone was gathered in a fairly small living room, huddled around Eileen and a tiny bundle in a yellow blanket with bees embroidered on it.

(Claire knew, without a doubt, that Cas had picked that out. He may have even knitted it himself, the weird ass.)

Claire knew that Kaia was still a bit uncomfortable around large groups like this, even though she knew and loved them just the same, so she let go of her girlfriend's hand and sauntered over to the group, throwing an arm around Dean's shoulders from behind.

"What's new up in here?" Claire said, throwing a wink at Eileen.

Claire soon found herself caught up in a group hug consisting of her surrogate mother and her two (kinda) gay dads.

"Geez," Claire said, trying to wiggle free, "You guys act like you haven't seen me in a year. I can't breathe."

Jody pulled away and said, "It has been nearly a year, Claire! And before you say anything, texting doesn't count!"

(Damn.)

Cas pulled away but left his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length and giving her a good once-over.

Seemingly satisfied by whatever he saw, he finally let her go.

"We've missed you, Claire," he said, so softly that it broke her heart a little.

Dean smiled and said, "Yeah, you leave for months at a time and you don't call, you don't write..."

Claire knew that she was letting Dean get her riled up, but that was just part of the comfortable little game they played. "I texted all of you! Like, literally everyone in this room! Some of you I even texted this morning!"

Alex and Patience laughed at her from their spot by a large bay window with sheer white curtains, and when she looked over at them, they both gave her a little wave.

Claire knew they wouldn't be coming to her defense.

It made her smile.

Donna walked over and pulled Claire to her, giving her just as big of a hug as the others. "Okie doke, let's leave the poor girl alone, and let her meet Niamh."

Claire was then unceremoniously dragged over to Eileen, who was watching with amusement. But it also got her closer to Sam, who stood up to give her a hug, and then leaned down to take the infant from Eileen's arms.

"Niamh," Sam said to the baby, with the most besotted look on his face, "This is your big sister, Claire."

And with that, Claire's brain made the sound of a record scratch. Claire.exe stopped working. Big sister? Is that really how Sam and Eileen saw her? As a daughter? Dean and Cas acted like that with her, and so did Jody and Donna, but those were more obvious. She and Sam had never been as close, though he was often the more reasonable Winchester brother. But this whole time, she was just everyone's adopted kid?

Claire was self-aware enough to know that she had softened a bit as she got older, but as Sam gently placed Niamh into her arms, and she looked around the room at everyone she loved, she felt her eyes go all misty.

This whole time, after losing both of her biological parents as an only child, it turned out that she had more parents and siblings than she knew what to do with.

Kaia appeared next to her, to look down at the baby in her arms.

"She's so small," Kaia said, whisper soft.

Claire looked at Kaia with a watery smile and then back down at the baby.

Gently rocking the infant, Claire quietly said, "Hi, Niamh. I'm Claire, and this is Kaia. You are so loved, and I know that someday you're gonna blow us all away."

Niamh gurgled happily.

***

"Are you sure about this?" Charlie asked Claire over the phone.

"Yeah, why, is it weird?"

"No, no!" Charlie said, quickly. "It's just that...I know I'm not from here, and I'll never be 'their Charlie,' but I've learned that this name comes with an awful lot of baggage."

"Nah," Claire said, easily. "To me, it's a name that sets me free."

Charlie laughed a bit and said, "As long as you're sure, I'll send the new documents to you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Charlie," Claire said with genuine relief in her voice. "This really means a lot to me."

After a "peace out, bitch!" Claire ended the call and let her phone drop to the sofa.

Kaia walked over and sat down next to her, taking one of Claire's hands in both of hers.

"When are you going to tell them?" she asked.

Claire grinned and squeezed Kaia's hands, "I'll probably wait for a while. I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

Kaia laughed.

***

When Claire and Kaia met with the landlord, to see what would hopefully become their first official apartment together, Claire shook the little old lady's hand and said with a dazzling smile, "Nice to meet you, I'm Claire Winchester."

[ensignabby]

143, A Destiel Ficlet

“What’s this?” Dean asked, putting down his burger and sucking some errant barbecue sauce from his thumb before reaching for the proffered box.

Cas had slipped it across the library table, letting his fingers linger when Dean’s met his, and reluctantly relinquished the small wrapped gift. The angel shrugged and seemed awkward and unsure, which Dean found nothing but adorable. “It’s, uh, well it’s for you. To commemorate.”

“Commemorate? What day is it?” Dean relied heavily on cases to create the context of his calendar, and after a few days at the bunker, he had started to lose track. When did they part ways with Sammy and Eileen when they finished that vamp nest? Thursday?

Cas sighed, only mildly put-out that Dean didn’t automatically know. “It’s the eighteenth of September.”

“Eighteenth of...” It came to Dean like a flash, like the burst of fresh air that hit his lungs those years ago as he emerged from the pit. “Cas...” He looked down at the carefully wrapped box with new understanding. “Is this an anniversary present?”

He was answered by small “yes” and a delightful pink hue spreading through Cas’ cheeks and reaching to the tips of his ears. “Aw, babe... Well, a Happy ‘Grip Me Tight’ to you, too. Although, I hadn’t thought to get you anything. I didn’t really know if dates mattered to you much, given, you know, the fact that you existed since practically ever.”

Cas looked away, lost in some faraway thought. “They didn’t. The unending march of millennia beared no consequence to the constancy of heaven, but,” he turned back to Dean, his blue eyes piercing his green ones. “The day I met you, I started counting. It’s the only date that has ever mattered.”

It’s Dean’s turn to blush now, and he doesn’t know how to respond to such unabashed declarations like that. He never has. They always steal his breath and sting his eyes. He clears his throat and reaches across the table to squeeze his angel’s hand in a silent gesture before bringing his attention back to the small box on the table.

Wrapped in light blue, Dean makes short work of the paper and finds a small wooden ring box. It makes his hands tremble. He knows what boxes like this mean. Does Cas? One glance up at the expectant face across from him tells him that he probably does. A deep breath steadies him and Dean opens the box.

The ring is platinum, a plain band with beveled edges that suits Dean’s sensibilities well. “Castiel...” he murmurs, taking it out of its setting to further appreciate the design. The soft yellow glow of the bunker’s lights reflect off the surface, highlighting the small engraving hidden in the inside of the band. “143...” He looks up again, seeing Cas’ obvious pleasure in watching Dean admire his gift. “What does 143 mean?”

Cas leaned in further. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with a man named Fred Rogers”

“Mr. Rogers? From TV? Of course I do. The man was the closest thing I had to a grandfather growing up.” He thought back to when he was little, where in a life of inconsistency he could always rely on the fact that every motel room had a television. And every television gave him access to that calming figure who told him it was okay to feel what he felt, even if John Winchester said different.

Cas elaborated. “Fred was a remarkable man. His place in heaven was secured for him long ago, and when Jack tore down the walls, I can assure you, he had a crowd waiting to greet him.”

“I can imagine.”

“What I admired most about him was his ability to see the good in everyone, to trust in the best in humanity. And he would always say to those that were listening, honestly and without reservation, ‘I like you, just the way you are.’ It’s a beautiful sentiment.”

Dean watched Cas speak, a small grin on his face, enjoying watching his partner enthuse about the host of a children’s television show, of all things. He flipped the ring over again, feeling the weight of it, noting that this ring looked perfectly sized for his fourth finger on his left hand. “Where does the 143 come in?”

“May I?” Asked Cas, not waiting for an answer before leaving his seat and coming around the edge of the table. He took the hand of Dean’s that was holding the ring and held it between both of his, finding himself kneeling next to him, prostrate before the object of his affection.

“Fred always liked this number. You see, it stood for something. One letter for the first word; four letters for the second word; and three letters for the third word. One. Four. Three.”

Something clicked in Dean’s brain. “I Love You.” He said, breath hitching.

“And I do, Dean Winchester. I love you, just the way you are. Just the way I always have from the first time I saw you. You are always beautiful to me.” Castiel was smiling through tears, taking the ring out of Dean’s hand and easing it gently over the knuckle of his ring finger. “That number serves as a reminder, and if you let me, I promise I will spend the rest of our lives making sure you will never need it.”

And dammit, now Dean was crying too. Fat, warm tears that blur his vision and spill unrestrained until he uses his free hand to wipe his face on his flannel. “Cas, did you just propose to me using a quote from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood?”

Castiel’s smile starts to waver, “Was that not clear? I thought this was...”

Dean rolled his eyes. “C’mere” and he dragged the angel up from his knees by the lapels of his trenchcoat, depositing him squarely in his lap. Leaving Cas no time to acclimate, he tangled his fingers in the nape of that dark hair and pulled him in, a crashing of lips, heat and stubble. And love. So much love.

After a moment, Cas pulled back panting, looking disheveled and glorious. “So I take that it’s a yes?”

Dean drinks in those brilliant blue eyes only inches from his, the glint of the engagement ring on his hand, and he can’t help but feel like every inch of him is vibrating with happiness. “Of course it is,” he breathes, and he leans in again to kiss his fiancé.

Oh, it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood

[angeltiddies]

eternal skyline of a spotless mind- or the one where the first 5 or so minutes of 15x20 are the only minutes i accept. 

in which i ramble a whole ficlet on accident and y’all i need the full fic. yes there’s a tinnnny bit of smut. also spn 15x20 spoilers slightly 

now i want the fic where dean applies to be a mechanic, gets the job, does real good. he and miracle live in the bunker, sam and eileen moved out a year ago now to follow a job opportunity for eileen. it’s a big place to be alone in. he keeps watching over and over all of the movies he has in a file entitled ‘cas’ favourites’ he sips whiskey, a responsible amount, and pets miracles head while his head is on his lap. sometimes he dives into the lore, he’s glad sam isnt here to give him shit about finally doing his research, but he’s trying to find a way to cas. to save him. and one day he tries to mix up a spell thatll open a portal into the dark nothing and his ingredients sputter and spark and he thinks it’s gonna work this is it, and it just doesnt. the smoke clears, the sparks stop popping, and there’s nothing. and so that night he goes into the dungeon draped in one of cas’ old trenchcoats and he sits in that spot he had to sit years ago and he cries, and miracle sits beside him and he cries because he’s trying he’s trying to live for love he’s trying to do right by cas and he just....he cant...cas died thinking dean didnt...didnt love him. and god, does dean love him. so he cries and he whispers iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou and he falls asleep on the concrete, uses miracle as a pillow but dean doesnt think he minds. and he wakes up in the morning, eyes puffy, and he drags himself to work, and he’s back to square one. and this continues for a while, dean doesnt really remember when he tried the spell, but it’s been a while. a month, maybe more. and he goes into work, and there’s a new car for him to work on. it’s old, a classic, but dean kinda thinks she’s more junk than classic, sue him, and he starts working on it, and he opens the trunk to pop a particularly stubborn dent out of it, the client’s not paying for that but he just can’t let the car be driven around all beat up, and there, right in the trunk, is a trenchcoat. bundled up, and tan and big and dean grabs it, he shouldnt but he does and his heart is beating so fast as he brings it to his nose and smells it and it’s cas it has to be and so he rushes to the front office, demands to know who the client is, when are they coming by and as he’s going completely wild wanting to know everything it suddenly goes calm. because there, in a worn flannel and blue jeans, is cas. castiel. and dean just looks for a moment, to convince himself its real, and then hes rushing to a wide eyed cas and saying ‘you stupid son of a bitch’ and crashing his lips into those ones which he has wanted for and then cas isnt really kissing back so dean stops because he...he cant take anything more from cas, he needs to give and he...he stops himself because what if...what if this wasn’t what cas wanted, so he pulls back, lets his hands linger on the soft of the flannel, and then cas is speaking, head quirked, ‘do i...do i know you?’ and fuck. his heart drops right out of his ass. his knees buckles and hes on his way down when castiel catches him, pulls him up, hand on his shoulder, and he holds on to him. and dean lets out a ‘you don’t remember?’ and castiel says, ‘no. i...i dont i’m so sorry.’ and dean thinks all hope is lost until cas asks, ‘i know this is too much to ask but it...appears i know you, and i kind of just, woke up one day in a field and i...i dont really have anywhere to go..and um’ and hes rambling but he’s determined to get his little angel back, all the way back, so he says, ‘you wanna come home with me, angel?’ and cas grins and dean wants to see that grin everyday of his life. so he finishes cas’ car, lets him trail behind as they drive to the bunker. he doesn’t explain it really, just opens the door and says ‘well, heres the place’ and cas walks in and looks at everything with such wonder. and he brushes his fingers across the gold embossing of an angel on one of the books there and dean just watches, listens to cas breathing, aches to touch.

he sets cas up in his old room, cas quirks a head when he sees all the suits and ties in the closet, says something like ‘now i understand why i woke up looking like a tax accountant’ and hes being good old cas, sticking so close to dean and he’s sitting beside him to watch a movie and miracle is sprawled across their legs and cas says, ‘i could get used to this’ and dean says, ‘yeah cas, me too.’ so they sit and they watch and they repeat that day in day out and the bunker isnt so lonely anymore, and he and cas do everything together, and dean researches spells to get cas’ memory back. he thinks it has to do with the fact that his grace got ripped out in the process, theres a small nick on his adams apple that he recognizes as the place it must have left, but he coughs himself out of thinking about that neck and those lips and that hair and those thighs and- he hasnt kissed cas since the first day, he longs to. he sees the way this cas looks at him and he wonders. he wonders if maybe...maybe this castiel can learn to love him again. and it’s going on a year now. cas works down at the local flower shop and has an apiary on the hill above the bunker, deans still in his same routine of life, and they’re not...they’re in the same place they were before cas confessed. just, in this middle ground, this unspoken something, so as he lies beneath a car he decides, the happiness isnt in the having its in just being in just saying it, so he goes home that night, picks up flowers from a competing shop bc he doesnt wanna spoil the surprise, and sets up the table. cas’ name is still carved there, cas had laughed when he first saw it because “what kind of long name is that,” and dean was bursting with fond. and anyways he lays down a table cloth and lights a candle and waits. shaking in his skin just waiting for cas to get home, and then cas is walking in saying ‘hello, dean’ and running down the stairs, groceries in paper bags overflowing in his arms, and his hair is disheveled and dean helps grab a bag and puts it in the kitchen and waits for cas to follow and see...the set up. and cas asks, what’s this about? and dean looks at cas and takes a deep breath and says, ‘someone once told me there’s happiness in just....fuck...in just saying it so here goes. and its okay if you..if you dont but...’ and cas is getting closer, his head quirked and deans heart is beating out of his chest and he says ‘i love you.’ and then cas is rumbling, ‘dean, look at me’ and so he does, looks up into wide blue eyes and cas is smiling. smiling so big and beautiful and dean wants to hear it he needs to hear it he needs- ‘i love you too, dean winchester’ and then theyre kissing again, kissing and holding and deans a little embarrassed but hes crying and then theyre skipping dinner entirely and cas has his hand on deans bare shoulder and hes shivering into the touch its so overwhelming and he fucks himself down onto cas’ cock and cas digs his fingernails into deans thighs and looks up at him blue and beautiful and overwhelming and deans pretty sure he blacks out when he comes except, he doesnt, because his eyes are open and the lights in the room are all busted and cas is lying there under him looking up, dean thinks so at least, he can’t really see him and so he laughs and he laughs and he’s not really registering what happened, a beautifully timed power outage like something divine saying this is how you met and he’s here still and you finally have him and so he climbs off of cas and grabs something to wash them up and a candle or two from the table and when he comes back, and wipes the damp cloth gingerly across cas’ body he notices cas tense and he sees in the candlelight cas is looking very serious and he stops being sweet just asks ‘cas? whats wrong’ and cas says, ‘dean? dean. dean winchester... dean...righteous soul the one i fell for and will always fall for the one i love the one i have always...’ and dean dives back on top of cas and kisses him senseless because now cas remembers everything before and he remembers everything after and everything now and its perfect

and honestly they still arent really sure what happened except that maybe the spell needed angel mojo so it snagged it from cas or maybe the empty curled itself around cas mind and all it needed was the Loud of too many emotions to overflood it but all that matters is that they are here together.

and then one day, at the dinner table, cas looks at dean and he says ‘dean, will you....’ and he shuffles inside his pocket and presses a box into deans hand and its- ‘will you marry me?’ and dean is practically leaping over the table to kiss cas and saying “yes yes yes of course of course i wanna grow old with you i wanna be with you always in life and death in everything always together”

and cas is crying because he could have what he wanted, he has the one thing he wants most and dean wants him most too.

and then dean is pulling back and cas is looking pensive and he says, ‘there is one thing, dean.’ and dean looks worried so he places his hand on his knee and he says, ‘i want to be human, all the way human.’ and dean looks like he wants to protest or cry and hes not sure which it is but then dean is crying and saying ‘ill help’ and then the next day theyre out with the bees, because cas thinks his grace will do them good, and dean holds cas’ hand in his tightly and follows that little nick on his throat and opens it ever so slightly with the angel blade and tries not to think about how hes hurting the person he loves and he loves and he loves and then the grace is flowing away and dean captures it in a bottle, hands it to cas, who later pats it down in the ground so they can grow a new tree, and dean gives cas two little stitches on his throat and kisses all around them and washes cas hair for him in the shower and then

when the day comes, they go together, they get to live with one another and watch the sunsets on their front porch with miracle and jack and sam and eileen all looking out over an eternal skyline.

[inawickedlittletown]

Baked With Love (Destiel fic) - 3/5

Summary: Dean never met Lisa’s neighbor, but he knew one thing: whoever it was, they could bake. After breaking up with Lisa, the one thing Dean misses is her neighbor’s pie. After finally meeting him, Cas’ pie is not the only thing Dean likes.

On Ao3

Part one

Part two

-

Dean ran into Lisa the very next day when he was getting out of the Impala in front of Castiel’s house. 

“I see you finally called Cas,” she said. “He made you pie, didn’t he?” 

“He did,” Dean said. “Just as delicious as I remembered it.”

“Oh. I figured you were here to pick it up,” Lisa said with a frown. “You can’t bully him into being your personal baker. I know he’s a nice guy, but don’t take advantage of my neighbor.” 

“No, I’m kinda paying him back. Doing him a favor. He has a few loose steps in his backyard. I noticed them yesterday when I was here and I offered to fix them.” 

Lisa’s smile returned. “He wouldn’t take your money.” 

“No. He wouldn’t,” Dean said and left it at that. 

It was better than to admit that Dean would have wanted to do this for Cas even if Cas had taken payment for the pie. 

Lisa excused herself as Dean got into his trunk to grab his tools. He was hoping that the planks wouldn’t need to be replaced entirely, but wouldn’t know yet until he got a closer look. When he was sure he had everything he walked up to Castiel’s house. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said when he opened the door. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. 

Castiel kept him company out in the yard. He busied himself with the garden, but wandered over to see how Dean was doing every once in a while, offering to get Dean anything he might need. It was nice. 

Cas hummed and he talked to his plants. He spent a long time checking on all of his plants, attentive in a way that Dean had never known anyone to be with plants. 

The wood planks were not in a horrible state. Dean figured that eventually they would need to be replaced, but they weren’t there yet. So, instead he made work of getting all of Cas’ steps to have better attachments to the supports. It was quick work, but he kept getting distracted by watching Cas. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean called over when he was on the last step. 

“Yes, Dean?”

“Want to get lunch after this?”

Castiel nodded with a big smile. “That’d be great.”

—

“Let me get this straight,” Sam said. “Well, I guess not straight.”

“Sammy.” 

“You befriended Lisa’s baker neighbor because you missed his pies and then somehow you’re fixing up things around this guy’s house and you’re taking him out to look at possible locations for a bakery this weekend.”

Dean should have known better than to tell Sam about Castiel, but he was just so used to telling Sam everything that it had spilled out. He could feel Sam’s judgement. 

“Sam, we’re friends now. Cas is a cool guy. You’d like him.” 

Sam gave him the kind of knowing look that Dean was practiced at ignoring.

“Dean, you just broke up with Lisa a couple of months ago and this guy lives right next door to her. Isn’t it a little—”

“We’re friends, Sam,” Dean said. 

Not that Dean wouldn’t have minded if it turned into more, but for the moment he and Castiel were just friends. 

“How’s work?” Dean asked. 

“You’re changing the subject, but fine. Work is great,” Sam said. 

At the end of the night Sam shouted: “have fun tomorrow with your new boyfriend!” 

Dean turned. “Not my boyfriend.” 

“But you want him to be,” Sam said. 

Dean didn’t respond. He did kinda hope that his friendship with Cas would develop into more, but it was something he was keeping close to the chest for the moment even if to his brother he would always be obvious. 

—

Dean had fully expected the first hurdle to be getting the financials in place. But Cas already had the money. It made everything easier. 

Apparently, Castiel’s grandfather had been very well off. So well off that when he died, he left a sizable amount of money to his favorite grandchild. 

“He was a writer,” Castiel told Dean. “You’ve probably heard of him, actually. Carver Edlund.”

Dean absolutely did know Carver Edlund. So, his silence at the reveal made Castiel chuckle. 

“You’re a fan, then?” 

“Yeah, Cas. I’m a fan.” 

Dean hadn’t been a reader like Sam was a reader, but that didn’t mean that Dean hadn’t read anything and Carver Edlund had written books in many different genres — it was what had made him so popular — but he’d also written a series of books about two brothers who travelled the world hunting ghosts and other supernatural beings and Dean had been obsessed with them for a long time. 

“Well, my grandfather did well for himself and when he passed and he left me all that money, I knew what I would do with it,” Castiel said. “And when it didn’t work out when Balt and I were — well, I just never touched it.”

The money had been sitting in the bank for years. It gave Cas options. 

So, a week after meeting Castiel for the first time, Dean was once more back at his house, but this time instead of getting out of the car and knocking on his door, it was Cas that gave his car a gentle rap. Dean unlocked the door at once and Cas got in. 

“Hi, Dean,” Cas said, all smiles. “I brought something for you.” 

It was a honey crumb muffin and it looked delicious.

“Cas, you didn’t have to,” Dean said at once. 

“I know. I wanted to.” 

Dean imagined that looking for a place to open a bakery shouldn’t have been fun. Somehow, it was. They looked at places up for rent and a few that were for sale. Cas didn’t like most of them and Dean found issues with others. There was not one that either of them actually liked. 

“What if we can’t find a place,” Cas said after a while. 

“Then we keep looking,” Dean said. “Where did you originally have in mind the first time around?”

“That place where someone opened that hardware store,” Cas said. 

Dean could admit that it definitely would have made for a good location. 

It did take them a few trips before they found the right place. Dean didn’t tell Cas right away that Singer Auto was only a few blocks away, but he was glad for the fact. It was on a corner and only a couple of blocks away from Singer Auto. It had been formerly a dog grooming place, and before that a pizza restaurant, and before that a dry cleaner, but none of those businesses had taken off. 

“And why do you even think mine will?” Cas had asked. 

“Because the grooming place was by appointment only and expensive as all hell. Because the owners of the pizza place were laundering money and serving what amounted to baked frozen pizza. Because the dry cleaner wasn’t very good. Trust me, Cas, one taste of anything you bake and you’ll have customers for life.” 

Castiel put an offer in through a realtor the next day. It had been a month since Dean had met Cas, but it felt like he’d known him far longer. Sam pointed out that that was probably because Dean spent most of his free time with Castiel and Dean couldn’t actually deny that. 

Dean was actually over at Cas’ house on a Friday afternoon when Cas got the call that his offer had been accepted. Dean insisted on getting a bottle of champagne to celebrate even though it meant that he had to drive to the nearest liquor store to pick it up first because Cas just didn’t have any on hand. Castiel’s smile didn’t fade from his lips for the rest of the night. He told Dean all of his ideas. How he wanted to set up the kitchen and the display counters and the kind of mixers and ovens that he’d been researching. 

“It’s really happening,” Cas said eventually, looking at Dean with wide surprised eyes. 

“I told you it would,” Dean said and nudged his shoulder. 

Cas turned so that he was facing Dean, the space between them practically nonexistent. “This is only happening because of you,” Cas informed him before wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders. 

Dean hugged him back at once, his arms wrapping around Cas to rest at his back and he never wanted to let go. Castiel had an earthy smell to him, but something flowery too in his hair. He felt amazing in Dean’s arms and they stayed that way in that hug for longer than was socially normal. 

When they pulled away, Cas’ cheeks were pink, but his smile still hadn’t left his lips. 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

“Does that thank you include another pie?” Dean asked. 

Castiel chuckled. “Sure. I will bake you anything anytime anywhere.” 

“Will you marry me?” Dean asked. It was a joke and yet as the words hung in the air between them, Dean knew with certainty that he had never before felt about anything, that one day he would ask that same question without any irony at all. 

—

The thing about Castiel was that for all the time that Dean spent with him, he couldn’t figure out if Cas did want their friendship to be more. Sometimes, it felt like he did. Other times, it felt like Cas saw him as a friend and nothing more and Dean didn’t want to push it. So, he tried to flirt a little and he spent so much time with Castiel, that Sam began to feel a bit neglected, and yet Castiel never indicated that he felt anything more for Dean outside of how his cheeks would get pink whenever Dean flirted with him. 

Somehow, Dean had begun spending every single Friday with Cas. Watching him bake, and helping him clean up all the meanwhile discussing Castiel’s plans for the bakery. He even started driving Cas to drop off baked goods at the shelters and soup kitchens on Saturdays and then they would go out to get brunch. Early on, those Saturdays had also involved Dean fixing things in Cas’ house for him. Once the remodel at the bakery started, Dean joined him there where he could to see how the work was coming along and after a few weeks, Dean started to see Cas’ vision. The large work space in the back with gleaming countertops, the huge industrial ovens, and the giant mixers. 

The front came together slower, but just a few months after the remodel started it was all complete. The last thing to go up was the sign outside that read Angel Bakes complete with a halo floating over the A. 

“Why Angel Bakes?” Dean asked after the sign was up and he and Cas stood outside looking up at it. 

“My name,” Cas said simply. “My mom named me after the Angel of Thursday.”

“Was she very religious?” Dean asked.

Castiel laughed. “No, actually. But I was born on a Thursday and throughout the pregnancy she was sure I’d be a girl and that she would name me Wednesday.”

“Like the Adam’s Family?” Dean asked. 

“I have no idea. Maybe,” Castiel said with the confused tilt of his head that meant he didn’t understand what Dean was talking about. 

Cas, as Dean had come to learn, was brilliant if a bit behind on pop culture. There were few movies that Cas had actually seen and fewer tv shows. Things went over his head all the time and Dean had started — albeit slowly — giving Castiel a sort of education. He’d all but demanded that Cas have a movie night with him a few weeks earlier entirely so that Dean could put on A New Hope and transform Castiel into a Star Wars fan. He was pleased when Cas actually did enjoy the movie. 

“Anyway, I thwarted her plans by being a boy and being born on a Thursday. Dad always said it was the meds that made her loopy.” 

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse than being named after my grandmother,” Dean said with a grin. 

They stood side by side and looked at the sign and Dean couldn’t help the feeling of pride that filled him because he had known Cas for a few months and yet even from the first night, it had been easy to tell that Castiel didn’t feel confident enough to go for it. But a few nudges had been enough to make him decide that yes, he could do it.

-

Part Four

[itstheimpossibledream]

Merry Christmas Pal

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year all the things! This fic was written specifically for @writethelifeyouwant as part of the SPN secret santa gift exchange but I hope we can all enjoy a little bit of smut this holiday! They said I had the freedom to write whatever I choose so enjoy this slightly wincestiel project! Also shout out to @negans-lucille-tblr for suggesting this great idea!

Word Count: 2,649

"Dean?"Cas called out as he grappled with the seatbelt. They had just pulled up to Madeline's house, Dean was already practically up the stairs, Sam stopped short and helped Castiel from the Impala. The street was decorated neatly for the holidays and Madeline’s small house specifically was lit to perfection.The boys quickly hurried behind Dean,reaching your steps just in time to pick an unassumingly provocative pose as you opened the door.  

The men were dimly lit by the lantern on your porch but you were not at all surprised by the rag-tag group the night had brought in. You had often opened your home to fellow hunters but, very few marked as memorable as the Winchesters. 

"Who's the friend?" you ask calmly motioning toward the trench coat. 

"Hi. I'm Castiel" the man stepped forward with him arm outstretched. Your eyes bounced from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean again. 

"Come in." you say turning your back to them and moving through the doorway into your home. 

"We really didn't mean to barge in on you like this Mads. We just had the craziest couple of days and really need a place to crash."

The boys looked like they had been through hell. It had been a while since the last time you saw them, and if we're being honest you were doing your best to contain the excitement. The last time the boys were here you had all stayed up drinking, and reminiscing which had led to a confusing yet thrilling three-way in the middle of your living room. 

Infact, everytime a Winchester had stayed in your home an encounter was bound to happen. Years ago when John had visited you for the second time, after hunting down a particular ghoul was the first night with a Winchester for you. God, just thinking of John's deep silky voice now makes your toes curl. The way he'd emphasized the slowness of that night. you must've had sex for hours and it still hadn't seemed like enough. John was brilliant at dragging out your orgasm, building it in you until you called out his name. That night he had you pressed up against your fridge, jeans around your ankles as he slammed into you, asking you over and over again 'who's your daddy?'. You didn't peg him for liking the daddy kink. I mean, he so obviously was one but, most hunters tended not to go for the obvious bent. You had found most hunters wanted to cry, make love and play house for a few hours before returning to their sad motels and continuing with their even sadder lives usually in a quest for revenge and usually you never saw them again. But John was different , John would visit you often and when his boys began looking for him , your address was a prominent stop in the state. Apparently, he had left behind proof that the two of you had been together.Strangely sentimental for a very mature man who's surety of himself caused him to remain a mystery. He was a good amount older than you but that never seemed to matter.The few minutes of reminiscing had caused a wetness to pool in your panties and you already felt yourself gearing up for whatever the younger Winchesters could possibly have in store. But, what was this third man doing here?

You had invited the men to sit in the living room while you heated up leftovers and prepared drinks. The new one preferred not to eat but he drank in time with the boys. As you served Dean he wrapped an arm around your waist,Sam was overflowing with compliments of your food but,Cas sat there nodding lightly as Sam and Dean filled you in on their latest hunts. As the night wore on, after your fourth or fifth trip to the fridge to freshen someone's beer you sat down next Castiel. He seemed so nervous and cold. When Sam and Dean excused themselves to bring in bags from the car and lock up the Impala for the night you found yourself unable to sit in the sullen silence anymore. You found yourself standing in front of the sink, washing dishes and looking for the right words. 

"So Castiel?" you asked, turning all your attention toward him as he helped you finish with the dishes. "How did the boys talk you into spending your holiday here?"

"Well, Dean says your food makes it the best place to stay, especially around christmas time. And I think he's also hoping you will decide to have sex with me."

You whirled from the sink to face him setting your mug on the counter. 

"And what makes him think that?"

"No idea, I told him I haven't had much luck with human women." he shrugged completely unembarrassed.

" And why do you think that is ?" you said more sarcastic than interested

" Because I'm a virgin, and Dean says no man should die a virgin.And also it's apparently great after a hunt." he sighed, shaking his head. At this moment Dean and Sam came back through the door carrying bags, one small pink gift bag caused your eyebrows to crease. Dean dropped the bags by the door as Sam came over to you with the small one. 

"A token of our gratitude for allowing us to spend the holidays with you." You looked quizzically from Sam to Dean, then to Cas.

" I promise it's not truck stop food." Cas said. That caught you by surprise that you laughed out loud at one of his jokes. It was an evergreen candle. Basic but, it was nice to know that the boys were thinking of you. "Thank you guys." you smiled as Sam stepped in for a hug. He was obviously the one who had picked out the candle. You came down from the hug and you turned to Dean to ask "So, what's this about Cas coming to my house to lose his virginity?" Dean turned to look at Cas, Sam's jaw dropped open. 

"You told her?" Dean was obviously frustrated with his friend, I guess he was nervous it would make you not want to hook up at all. 

"Well I was going to have to find out at some point right ?" you laugh trying to lift the mood.

"Dean wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable" Sam quickly jumped to the rescue "We just want Cas to have an interaction with a woman he can trust you know when we're working anyone could be a demon or a monster it's not a popular line of work and - and-" 

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it ." You reply looking directly at Cas " If I'm being honest it's always been a bit of a kink of mine to be someone's first."

Now it was Dean's turn to have his mouth hang open. 

"Great! So should we go upstairs?" Cas exclaimed. 

"Wait Cas, are you sure that like- you're ready now?" Sam's face was so earnest 

"Yup!" Cas said making his way towards the stairs. You stepped towards him.

"Hold on" you said, reaching for the lapels of his jacket. He allowed you to slide it off of his shoulders. the boys watched in silence as you draped the coat over the bannister and slowly undid his tie. You added his tie to the bannister and stepped in closer, sharing the air with him. He immediately leaned in and kissed you. You were slightly stunned by the confidence but also intrigued. He was a sweet kisser, smooth and calm, his tongue moved, calculated. A hand lightly caressed the curve of your lower back into your butt. You could tell it wasn't Cas's hand,this hand was larger and rougher. The hand moved to the front of your body and you could feel it working it's way toward your core. As nervous as you were, you couldn't get over the excitement of having multiple men at once. 

"Get on your knees" the man behind you was definitely Dean,you do as he says. You situate yourself on the floor as Dean reaches over you and undoes Cas's pants. His cock spills out and you watch as Dean slowly jerks him. You turn your head to find Sam sitting in the living room a few steps away with his pants around his ankles, watching. His strokes were different from Dean's; they were long, slow strokes. He catches you staring at him and smiles.

"I think you're supposed to be focused on Cas." Sam says smoothly , you turn your head back to face Cas."Open your mouth." Dean directs, Cas lays himself lightly on your tongue .

"She's so pretty like this Dean." Cas says staring down at you. You close your lips around him and begin to suck him off, he moans loudly.

"Even better than you thought it would be huh?" Sam laughs. You look up to see Dean kissing Cas above you and are instantly more turned on than you expected to be. You didn't know Dean was even remotely interested in men. Something about being completely unaware of his preferences made you so intrigued, he was like his father, unknowable but, in this way you knew more about him than any other hunter. You sped up on Cas's member and he moaned into Dean's lips. He couldn't take the pressure anymore, he explodes into your mouth with cries of "I'm cumming". Dean smiles at him but directs you to “stand up. I wanna taste him.” You get up and Dean immediately whirls you around shoving his tongue down your throat.He pulls away saying  "Give Cas sometime to recover sweetheart, go ride Sammy's dick." he smacks you on the ass as you saunter towards Sam. By this point he has completely undressed on your couch, he extends a hand towards you and helps you settle yourself on top of him. He runs a hand up your thigh and you see his eyes widen. 

" You're so wet from sucking Cas. Why is that?" he smiles, slowly narrowing his eyes. 

"Because she's a slut" Dean says as Sam sinks two fingers into you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at Sam. 

"Is that what it is?" he asks, pulling his fingers out and lightly smacking your pussy."Are you a little slut?" He smacks again, harder this time." Yes-yes I'm little slut ." you voice says shakily, betraying you. "Come here." he motions, lowering you onto him. He gasps as you ride him, his fingers digging in deeper into your hips. You press down,staring into his eyes. He flips some hair from his face, and begins pushing into you faster. He brings a hand up to your face "You feel so good....wow." That was enough to send you over the edge, into spasm on Sam’s dick. 

"Can't keep it all to yourself Sammy." Dean growled from behind you. "Sam grabbed your hair, bringing your face closer to his "Say you want more." You moaned and nodded in response. "I said it." he pressed, you managed to get more of a grasp on your voice and said "I want more!" 

"Come here sweetheart." Dean called out from across the room, Sam pumped into you once more as hard as he could and then lifted you off of him, your legs were so wobbly you could barely stand. And you could fill the mix of the two of you sliding down your thighs. Dean must've noticed your unsteadiness and said "Don't walk''. You froze, looking up at him.Trying to follow the rules but, also knowing the need for your next orgasm would outweigh the want of the command especially, with the added bonus of bucking against Dean's dominance. His eyes looked from Sam, sweaty and spread out on the couch to Cas,who had barely managed to get himself back together after his last orgasm.

"See that's why I always liked you baby. You let the boys have their fun but, you know who's always gonna give you what you want." Your pupils blow out at that praise.He sets his eyes on you with a cold gaze.

”Crawl." he commands clear as day. Your body wanted to go to the floor anyway. You settle on your hands and knees and move slowly towards Dean. Placing one hand in front of the other, your knees dragging on the hardwood as you pass the skirt of your own christmas tree. "See that ass moving Sammy.That's why we love Mads, Cas. That's why."  You reached the space in front of Dean "Turn around."

You did as you were told so that your hands were laying flat on your rug on all fours, and you could feel as he got on his knees behind you and entered. You cried out immediately, his hand curled around your throat and as he lifted your chin Cas's dick came into view.Cas got on his knees in front of you Dean used his other hand to steady you and pull your hair turning your face up to meet Cas. "Kiss his it sweetheart" you lightly lay a peck on Cas's member, knowing it would immediately cause a rise in Dean. "Put your mouth around his pretty cock"he says lightly. You do as he says, Cas holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat. "O you take him so good sweetheart. Swallow him.” he breathed“ You're such a good girl." You saw Sam's tall body come into frame,next to Cas."You're so good babygirl, you're taking me so well" he cooes. You can feel your core tightening and you worried that if you come another time you might break. Dean is fucking you hard now, strong , lustfilled pumps. "Cas come here." Dean calls"I want to watch you inside her.Dean pulls out of you only to be immediately replaced by Castiel's slow, agonizing strokes. Sam is smiling down on you and taking in the expanse of his naked body is enough to send you over the edge. You feel yourself clamping down on Cas and you cry out telling Dean that you can’t hold it any longer. "Cum for me baby." he commands "Come all over Cass, show him how much you like it." You scream out shivering over Cas's cock. The men give you a moment to recover then you feel Dean pulling you up. "Sit on your knees baby." his voice has softened now. "We're gonna come on you okay? Be a good girl and play with your tits for us. You follow his directions and before you know it all three are springing thick ropes of cum from their cocks, moaning in unison and screaming your name. The room falls quiet for a moment and all you can see are the warm lights of the christmas tree,your body immobilized and your brain flooding with serotonin. Dean gathers you in his arms and sits there holding you, telling you what a beautiful girl you are. Eventually, Sam emerges from your bathroom with a towel and both Sam and Cas clean you up wiping the sticky liquid from your body. Sam and Cas laid sprawled out on the floor, you curled in Dean's arms. Sam was propped against the foot of the couch, his hands in his hair as he stared up at the ceiling painting, Cas laid closer to you, his stomach facing the floor and his arms wrapped around a pillow as he looked up at Dean.  "Hey Cas." Dean gruffs looking in the direction of the floor.``Yeah?" Cas asks "Merry Christmas pal" Dean says extending an arm to slap Cas on the ass.  The room immediately erupts in laughter. I guess this really was all any of you had wished for.