#keeps saying ‘sam when are you going to marry eileen?’ wedding ring on his finger from when he dragged his vows from his throat for cas to

[quietwingsinthesky]

domestic destiel with baby jack except that dean wants to kill himself the entire time because he feels like he’s trapped and can’t keep going through these motions that he doesn’t feel

#<3 i can make this work. i can make this interesting for me. #jack is also not actually baby he’s just shaped like that. he is also suffering and hates it #cas would be having a nice time except that no one else is and even if he doesnt know because theyre lying the vibes are rancid and bleeding #into him #sam is having a bad time too because dean is pushing him out of the picture to better fit the ideal of married life #even if all he’d rather do is live with his brother and chill and run the bunker #keeps saying ‘sam when are you going to marry eileen?’ wedding ring on his finger from when he dragged his vows from his throat for cas to #be happy. (sam broke up with eileen months ago. he just wants his brother back. he wants his best friend back. he wants to stop sitting on #the outside of their family. he wants to see his son as his son and not when he’s pretending to be a child.) #this is going to explode so horribly for everyone <3 #personally i think jack should finally lose it from how he has to play at being so much smaller and less than he is #and burn their fucking house down and run away to sam. and then dean and cas can divorce over the ashes #and then. maybe. they can move forward into a life they can be happy in. not one they force themselves to fit #spn #dean winchester #castiel spn #jack kline #aro!dean #tw suicide

[chocolatecakecas]

The Start of Forever: Destiel Honeymoon Ficlet

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

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

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

It was real. They finally did it.

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

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

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

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

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

(Read the rest under the cut)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their honeymoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A smile stretches across his face.

"Mornin' sunshine".

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

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

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

Dean smiles wider. That's his husband.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cas always knows what he needs.

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

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

"Good morning, Dean".

And that's what does it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They really did it.

Cas stands and places his plate in the sink.

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

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

He presses a soft kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Thank you for the pancakes, my love".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list:

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

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

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

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

#i am having a LOT of feelings about their first morning and their honeymoon #as always i am legally obligated to baby jack truth do jack is an ACTUAL three year old child #idk i wrote fluff which i never do??? i hope you like it and that it makes sense!!! #dean winchester #castiel #destiel wedding #destiel honeymoon #destiel #jack kline #eileen leahy #bec writes #deancas #casdean #baby!jack #baby jack truthing #dadstiel #destiel fic #destiel ficlet

[mattzerella-sticks]

Before the Night Ends

Dean/Castiel, 2.1k words, post-Wedding/pre-Honeymoon

ao3

It's been a wedding for the ages. Dean and Castiel finally tied the knot, with guests flying in from all across America, Heaven, Hell - even the Empty. But everything must come to an end, and after a wonderful Roadhouse reception Dean and Cas drove off in Baby and off towards their honeymoon.

Except, it's a long drive from Kansas plains to California beaches. They stop close to midnight at a motel along the highway, to sleep, celebrate their wedding night and that it's Valentine's Day, too.

           There’s a motel off Highway 70 called Angel’s Paradise, first established in the early 1900s, and last renovated in 1982. The owners back then, who remain so today, envisioned heaven as some tropical destination. That meant each room, alike in their simplicity and functionality, would be redone along these guidelines. Walls plastered with paper-print palm fronds and blooming, pink flowers. Bathrooms tiled a light blue – like waters from the clearest ocean – and little soaps shaped like shells to match the shell-patterned shower curtain. They’d have an entertainment unit housing a small television set would double as a dust collector, various ocean-themed knick-knacks cluttered atop it, ranging from homemade to store bought. A wicker table situated between two wicker chairs, a wicker dresser placed next to the entertainment unit and a wicker bed-or-beds layered by their own palm fronds, matching the walls. Finally, tying the décor together was a little (wicker) side table near the door with a plastic conch set to catch keys or loose change or cigarette ash. Given these changes, any customer might imagine they were in Florida rather then Colorado, or it was June instead of February. Especially in the crown jewel of Angel’s Paradise, the Honeymoon Suite.

           Except the Suite’s current boarders were very aware of where and when they are. Probably because they have yet to see their room for the night.

           Dean tucks his hands into his elbows, shivering outside the Suite while Cas fiddles with its doorknob. “Come on,” he whines, “what’s the hold-up?”

           Cas pauses, turning to Dean. “Sorry,” he says, “the lady at the counter – she said they were having issues since the last occupants. Something about them breaking the lock?”

           “Fuckin’ a…” Dean hisses, bouncing now. An icy wind cuts across the parking lot, Dean defenseless to it because he forwent a heavier jacket and how thin the material of his suit was. Castiel looks marginally warmer than Dean, wrapped in his trademark trench coat. Still, Dean notices how his hands tremble while holding the key. Cas’s hand flicks to the left, Dean’s gaze catching the silver band wrapped around his ring finger. One day, he may get used to it. Dean hopes he never does and can experience the same flutter of warmth rippling through his heart from seeing it. He leans into Cas, Dean dropping his head onto Cas’s shoulder. “Who do I have to pray to for this door to open?”

           “No one,” Cas declares, lock clicking in time with his words, “because it’s open!”

           Dean curses under breath, smiling. “Great,” he says, “let’s get in there, then – hey… hey!”

           Swept off his feet, Dean falls into the loving grip of his husband. Cas places one arm at his back, supporting most of the weight, while the other arm traps Dean’s knees, keeping his legs bent and Dean unable to wriggle himself free. Cas smiles down at him, laughing.

           “You think this is so funny,” Dean scowls, holding onto Cas’s tie like it were a lifeline. “You little shit –“

           “Mr. Shit, Dean,” Cas interrupts, kicking the door open and striding past the threshold, “I did take your last name, after all.”

           “My mistake…” He huffs, burying his head in Cas’s chest while he uses the fingers not squeezing Cas’s tie to comb the hairs at his husband’s neck. “Dean and Castiel Shit… I can see the monogramed towels already.” Dean closes his eyes, purring like a kitten while he absorbs the heat that radiates from Cas. It’s inhuman how much of a furnace he was, especially after giving up his grace to live as a human, to be human with Dean. Like always, Dean’s smile widens at the thought. He tries hiding his rapidly flushing face, but Cas tears Dean off of him. He ungraciously dumps Dean onto the bed, blue eyes betraying his cool demeanor as they glow with mirth from Dean’s startled squawking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

           “Going to get the bags,” he says, moving towards the door, “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.”

           Dean shakes his head, situating himself better on the bed. He sits at the foot of it, toeing off his snakeskin boots and then peeling off the dark grey dress socks he wore with them. While pulling at his tie, Cas returns with their bags. He doesn’t close the door after, and a blustery chill fills the space. Goosepimples erupt in scattered bunches up and down Dean’s arms. “Close the door!” he yells, dumping the tie onto the slowly growing pile of discarded clothing. His suit jacket joins his tie and socks and boots as Cas deposits their bags by the television. He then hits the door with his elbow, shutting out the wind. Cas gestures at the closed door with a flourish and wry grin. Dean scoffs, “Ugh, who’s bright idea was it to do this in winter?”

           “The same man who, on his birthday, said,” Cas drifts closer, helping Dean unbutton his shirt, “and I quote, ‘If you think you can propose to me and not expect us to get married as soon as possible, then you don’t know what you’re signing up for… buddy’.” Cas eases the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, kissing the exposed skin right above his t-shirt. “For the record,” Cas adds, whispering into his collarbone, “I expected it. It was one of the reasons why I couldn’t wait any longer.”

           Dean remembers. Their family, together, celebrating Dean’s birthday. His first birthday free from Chuck’s machinations, with a cake Jack spent all day baking and presents that lined the end of the table. He held Cas’s hand as he blew out the candles, mind blank because nothing he could wish for would match the happiness he felt in that moment. He tells Cas this after he asks what he wished for. And Cas, of course, proceeds to kiss him. Cas kisses him while Eileen cut the cake, while Jack helped plate them, and while Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders in warning to reign it in. Dean pulled back, gasping, unsure how he might respond to his then-boyfriend’s passion. Then Cas asked him that all-important, heart-stopping, mind-blowing question, opened a velvet box, and Dean knew exactly what to say.

           “I would’ve waited,” Dean reveals, helping Cas with his clothes as Cas guides Dean’s legs out of his slacks. “Everyone knows how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you… I would’ve waited, even if we died and we had to get married in heaven.” Dean pecks Cas’s lips, divesting him of both jackets and his button-down shirt. “I’m glad we didn’t have to, though.”

           “So am I.”

           They stand together in t-shirts and boxers, barely an inch of space between them. No one speaks, not that they have to, but the usually comfortable silence makes Dean nervous. His focus drifts from Cas and onto the plastic conch behind him. Then, he notices how the rest of the room is decorated. Dean giggles, “Wow… it’s, this place is…”

           Cas nods. Dean needn’t say anything else. “You should’ve seen the inside,” he snickers, “the staff were wearing Hawaiian shirts and shark-tooth necklaces.”

           “Hey,” Dean shoves him, “don’t diss Hawaiian shirts.” He collects his clothes and boots, bringing them over to their duffels. “I’ve got about three packed away in here, and I’m planning on buying at least a few more before our honeymoon ends.”

           “Should they even be called Hawaiian shirts if we’re not in Hawaii?” Cas asks. Dean hears the mattress squeak, and guesses his husband sat on the bed. He digs through the duffel, Cas monologuing in the background. “Are they called Coloradan shirts since we’re in Colorado? If we buy them in California, won’t they be Californian Shirts? Or is it because they’re made in Hawaii, and then shipped elsewhere? Can you imagine it – shirt factories, dotting the beaches? Oh, I’d hope the workers making all these Hawaiian shirts are at least being paid a fair wage, given how popular they seem to be…”

           “There’s no factories on any beaches,” Dean tells him, “and – hate to burst your bubble, angel – but I doubt Hawaiian shirt makers are paid what they deserve, regardless of where their factories are.” Cas hums in that same, sullen note he usually does when the beginning notes of Sarah McLachlan play and Dean can’t switch channels fast enough. He folds his clothes, setting them aside. Then, Dean sneaks his hand into his stack of clean boxers, finding the surprise he hid for his husband. “Hey,” Dean rises, “capitalism sucks, but we can’t let it ruin our trip.” Dean drops onto Cas’s lap, delighting in the tiny ‘oof’ that escapes from his husband. “Here,” he says, “I was saving this for later… but hell, we’re running out of time. I’d rather give it to you before the night ends than a day later.” Dean hands him an envelope, Cas’s name scrawled on the front. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

           “A card?” Cas asks, flipping the envelope back and forth, “Dean… you didn’t have to get me anything.”

           “’Course I did…” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’s temple, ruffling his hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day… probably the first Valentine’s Day I actually wanted to celebrate in a long time, because I’ve got someone I love and want to celebrate. And sure, it’s not like we didn’t do just that… in front of all our friends and families… and a few exes… and uninvited guests –“

           “The point, Dean?”

           “Sorry,” Dean lays his head atop Cas’s, watching him peel away the envelope’s glue. “We’ll have tons more holidays and anniversaries to celebrate in the future… I just didn’t want our first Valentine’s Day to be overshadowed by our wedding. You mean so much to me that I’m not gonna just lump the two together like you’re some kid who was unlucky enough to be born on Christmas. You deserve it all.” Cas flips the envelope, shaking its contents free. A pair of red panties floats onto his outstretched hand. “Not just some stinkin’ card.”

           Cas squeezes the panties. “Are you –?”

           “About to show you how friggin’ fantastic married sex is?” Dean wrangles the panties from Cas’s fist, waving it about like a flag. “You bet. Let me slip these on and…“ He starts towards the bathroom, Cas slowly chasing him.

           “You don’t have to,” his husband growls, “you can change here –“

           “Cas, I won’t be long –“

           “I don’t know if I can wait!”

           “You’ll have to!” Dean closes the door on Cas’s face, laughing as he hears his husband bang against the door in protest. He yells for Dean, but Dean ignores him. Dean brings his hand to his face, covering his mouth with both it and the panties he carries. They smell like cherries. He forgot to tell Cas they’re edible. Cas will figure that out later.

           He’ll also give Cas his real card later, as well. The one he wrote using all the words Dean was too afraid to say at the altar. Little details about the way Cas hogs all the blankets when he sleeps, and how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and that Cas’s hugs chase away dark thoughts better than any drink might’ve. There were also bigger things he mentioned, in this card. About Cas and his unwavering faith in Dean, even at times where he didn’t deserve it. About the despair that bloomed whenever Cas left his side, a bouquet of horrid, wilted roses growing rampantly over his heart and piercing it with their thorns during those awful times it seemed their last goodbye truly was. About the love Cas inspired within Dean that changed his life, from the very beginning, from the touch of Cas’s hand on his shoulder. That simple act which broke him free from Chuck’s wheel again and again and again. Dean couldn’t say any of this in a crowded room. He doubts he can with only Cas. He already cried enough for one day. So, they’ll have sex instead. After they’ve burned through the remaining fumes that linger in their tanks, Dean will present the card, curl against Cas’s side with his head tucked underneath his husband’s chin, and listen while Cas reads how much he means to Cas.

           But that won’t be until later. Now, Dean shimmies out of his boxers. He pulls the panties on, flicking the bow twice once it’s settled. “Are you ready?” Dean croons, jiggling the knob, “because it’s time to ride ‘em, cowboy!”

           Cas pries the door loose, almost ripping it off its hinges as pull Dean forward into a searing kiss. Dean smiles into it, letting Cas take lead. Dean’s gift were the panties. Cas’s gift is putting in the work to get them off. Cas throws Dean onto the bed, his mouth attacking Dean’s neck. His hand trails down Dean’s side, tickling and teasing him.

           He couldn’t have written a better ending to his story. Or imagine a better beginning to his next.

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel wedding

[irrlicht-writes]

the path we choose to walk on pt.4

So this is it. Part 4, everyone. The last part! We made it to the end! Wooo! (now I have to focus on my bang again) Thank you for being with me. I hope you enjoyed the ride. Tell me what you thought! Tell me what you liked! Tell me what you hated! (be nice though) @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @cass-said-i-love-you @professorerudite @insertdeeplyrics anyone else want on the tag list?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Ao3

Part 4: let the good times roll

Sam and Eileen gift a painting set to Castiel one day. Dean isn’t sure why but they say it’s because he saved their baby. Later Cas admits to Dean that he barely remembers what happened.

As it turns out, Castiel sees the world vastly different than Dean. Dean’s no art critic, nor could he detect a masterpiece in the making but to him, Cas’ pieces feel alive. There is a certain aspect to them.

Castiel paints mostly with his fingers and the faces of the people are wonky at best but still, they stare right into Dean’s heart.

“They are dead,” Cas says, “but with this, they’re alive. There was a world people cannot understand today. You have changed so much in so little time and yet it remains – you will always look at the world with wonder in your eyes.”

 Charlie helps them sell Cas’ art online. They sell somewhat well and Dean thinks that Cas is happy that he gets to help. Cas had said that he would’ve like to take a real job, but Dean shut him down very quickly.

Nobody would want to hire Cas – first, Cas didn’t even properly exist. And second; there would be too many days where Cas would have to stay at home. Any employer would only allow so many sick days and Dean is afraid of sending Cas to a therapist.

Even though he knows that they all probably need one, how would you even start explaining?

“Yeah, roughly 15 years ago I set off with my brother to find our dad and now our son turned into God. Oh and also we picked up this literal angel as our best friend and all of us – our son concluded who by the way was fathered by Lucifer – have died several times and then we just kind of went going.”

Yeah. No.

Not to mention all the additional bullshit Castiel would have to unpack. Dean’s been in a mental constitution once; he doesn’t really have to go there again. And he certainly doesn’t want Cas to go there – also, again.

The bees are still on Dean’s mind. He doesn’t need a repeat of that.

And anyway, the paintings are selling. And in time, they might even be able to ask for more money. Dean doesn’t really hold out hope but who knows?

 Two years after Maria is born, Sam and Eileen get married. Dean knows that they’ve been discussing marriage for a long time and have never been able to decide whether it was for them or not. But then Eileen proposed and here they are.

“She asked me to accompany her with the ring shopping. I think she just wanted to use me for my fingers,” Cas says to Dean and Dean smirks.

“Do you think Jack’ll show up?”

“I don’t know. I’ve told him; and I’m sure he knows but whether or not he’ll actually show up... it would be good to see him again. But even if he can’t make it here, he’ll be watching over these two.”

They are about to begin the ceremony and Dean’s excited to be the Best Man. He’s never thought he’d get to be that for real so it feels like a dream. Maria’s supposed to be the Flower Girl but she hasn’t shown up yet.

“Cas,” Charlie rushes over to them. Cas blinks up at her, tilting his head.

“Maria doesn’t want to walk, she’s embarrassed. Do you think you can help her out?”

Maria has gotten overly attached to Cas in these past two years and Dean believes it’s just infatuation. After all, who could look into these big blue eyes and not fall for them? Dean, however, is a little bit upset over the fact that she likes Cas better than him. But he’ll just wait until Maria will appreciate cars. And that’s when Dean will win.

“Of course,” Cas replies, “come on, Miracle.”

Miracle has essentially become Castiel’s therapy dog. She follows him everywhere and makes sure he eats and drinks enough. She loves Cas to pieces and anyone who even looks at the angel wrong gets growled at.

Dean watches them walk away and gets his phone out. He knows that there is a photographer here that films things but he wants that piece for himself. And he has to go up there anyway, so he might just go now anyway.

It takes five more minutes before Cas was apparently able to convince Maria to come out – and even then, she’s getting carried. She’s holding the flower basket close to her chest and Cas encourages her to throw the petals down. Dean’s heart melts at the sight of them.

Cas stops next to the pew where Claire and Kaia are sitting and basically tells Maria to throw flowers on them. Claire laughs and playfully shoves Cas away from them. Jody and Donna are also getting petals thrown in their face. Everybody is smiling and Dean’s happy that he’s filming this.

Maria is giggling and throwing petals all over the place. “She was so stiff before,” Charlie whispers in his direction.

“She wasn’t even looking at me and now look at that. How is Cas’ gayness softer than mine?”

“You’re just intimidating.”

“Cas is an angel!”

 Eileen is beautiful when she walks down the aisle. Sam next to him exhales and has the biggest smile on his stupid face.

“Mama so pretty!” Maria proclaims loudly while clapping her hands.

“Yes, she is,” Cas replies a little quieter. He has her sitting on his lap and he has a flower in his hair. Apparently Maria was supposed to give that to her mom but she had decided that it was for Cas, so now he was wearing the flower. It does fit him, Dean thinks.

The ceremony itself goes over without a hitch even though Sam almost breaks down crying twice. Dean was expecting more, if he’s honest. Maybe Sammy practised with Cas – apparently Cas is the solution to every problem.

Later, at the party, Dean holds an embarrassing speech about Sam and after, Sam dunks his head into a pie. This is fair, because Dean definitely deserves that. It’s all good, though. Cas laughs and wipes Dean’s face clean and Maria – still in Cas’ lap – giggles like it’s Christmas.

Dean dances with Eileen and Sam dances with Cas and Maria. Charlie’s taking pictures and Dean loves it. Cas can’t dance for very long and he leans heavily onto Sam but he tries his best for Sam and Maria both.

Dean loves him.

And someday, he’ll man up enough to actually say these words. He just needs a little bit longer. And Cas is here to stay. Dean’ll work up the courage he needs and then it’ll be alright.

 Charlie is dancing with Maria and Eileen is sitting next to Cas. She’s taken her shoes off and is likely complaining to the angel that her feet hurt. Cas is holding the wedding bouquet now and Dean knows that Eileen will insist he keep it.

“I wish she would’ve thrown it,” Claire says and Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

“You were hoping to catch it, weren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

 At the end, Jack didn’t show. The party had ended a while ago, but Dean and Castiel are still sitting on a bench outside. It’s a nice night, and Dean doesn’t want to drive home yet. There are no clouds in the sky and the stars are shining bright. Dean reckons that that’s Jack’s doing. He still wishes he would’ve shown his face.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Castiel says while leaning on Dean’s shoulder. “You know he doesn’t do that well with a lot of people.”

Yes. That is true but still – he hadn’t even come to congratulate Sam? He also still hadn’t come to meet Maria yet. Dean wonders what work a God has to do. Didn’t Jack say he wanted to be hands off?

“Don’t you miss him?” Dean asks.

“Every day,” Castiel replies.

Castiel raises a hand towards the sky and Dean sees a shooting star. But the star stops after it passes Cas’ hand.

Castiel retracts his hand and there’s a golden orb floating above his palm.

“What’s that?”

It glows brightly and it’s almost too much for Dean to look at. It compels him in the same way it tells him to stay away from it. Where did it come from? Why is it here? What’s it going to do?

“Divinity,” Castiel quietly replies and closes his hand, making the orb disappear.

 *

 “Dean, really?”

Dean sighs. He knew it was a mistake to talk to Sam about this. But he knows that Charlie would’ve squealed in his ear and honestly, Claire is still a bit too young for this to talk about it. And yeah sure, Eileen would’ve been an option but even after all this time, Dean still hasn’t improved on his signing skills.

“I know it’s stupid.”

“I didn’t say that. But have you even choked up an I love you?”

Dean is quiet.

“Oh my god, I knew it. Dean, you can’t just propose like that!”

“...shut up.”

He pockets the box inside his jacket. He doesn’t want to propose right now anyway. It’s more like a promise to himself, that one day he might be worthy of this. If – when he’ll find the words one day, he’ll be good enough for Cas. He can be.

He will be.

For Cas, the best thing that ever happened to him.

For Cas, who still thinks he’s barely tolerated.

For Cas, who sees the world as more than it is.

For Cas, who loves so much and has never been loved in return.

 Their first kiss doesn’t quite happen as Dean would’ve imagined it – not that he had ever been imagining it in the first place.

Cas is watching Dancing With The Stars and he’s really fascinated. Apparently, he’s never danced before. Dean’s never told him about Garth and Bess dancing in front of the window. He wonders how they’re doing now. Maybe they’re dancing right at this moment, while Sam and Castiel are finally asleep?

“Dean, please?” Castiel’s blue eyes are pleading and Dean has a hard time saying no. Cas always asks for so little and Dean’s always liked dancing when he got a chance to do it – which sadly is not often. So he sighs and stands up from the couch, offering his hand up to Cas.

“Might I have this dance, milady?”

Cas blinks at him in question, and then looks at the outstretched hand. At last, there’s a smile stealing itself across Castiel’s face and he gently takes Dean’s hand and hauls himself up.

“Of course, my lord.”

Dean chuckles and pulls Cas flush against him. It’s been a while since they were this close together without one of them on literal death’s door. Cas is alive and warm under his hands and Dean starts swaying. He’s never danced a real dance, much less so with another man. But it’s not like Cas could dance at all, so it’s okay. And besides – it’s not about the skill, it’s about the experience. And Cas –

Cas is laughing. It’s a happy laugh and he enjoys himself. It’s truly a sight to see. It’s rare to see Cas so relaxed and Dean feels more than privileged to witness this much less be the cause of it. Dean swirls Cas on the spot and as the swirl ends, Cas stumbles forward against Dean’s chest. Dean holds him tight and it’s a good feeling.

Cas’ hair is brushing against Dean’s chin and he feels calm. He gently puts one hand on Castiel’s cheek and Cas nuzzles into it. Castiel’s hand is loosely laying on Dean’s chest and the volume of the TV playing in the background is already fading away.

Dean’s in love.

He’s in love with Castiel.

He gently directs Castiel’s face upwards and looks at the big, blue, blinking eyes.

He doesn’t understand how he got to be so lucky.

Dean bends down, just a little, and ever so gently presses his lips against Castiel’s mouth.

It’s a quiet kiss, one that doesn’t require anything.

“Dean,” is all that Cas says afterwards but Dean quietly hushes him.

“Shh,” he replies and kisses him again.

It’s easier than anything else he’s ever done.

He doesn’t remember why he was ever afraid of this.

This, right here, is where he’s meant to be.

With the TV running in the background, in his shitty apartment, in worn-out clothes, with a dog sleeping in her bed, kissing Castiel.

Sometimes things are just easy.

Dean holds Castiel tight and thankfully, Castiel doesn’t speak.

It’s the most comforting silence and Dean cherishes it.

He’s in love.

 *

 It’s a soft thing, after. Nothing changes and yet, so much is different.

He kisses Cas in the morning before he goes to work; in the afternoon when he returns; when they make dinner; when they watch TV.

It’s the easiest thing in the world.

And yet, Dean knows that Cas wonders.

I know you don’t love me.

But Dean does. He just can’t say it. If he did, then – then what would John say? Dad would judge him for this. Dad would call him a girl; and a fairy; and tell Dean that Dad hadn’t raised a gay son.

 He’s still thinking about this in bed. Next to him, Cas is fast asleep, holding onto Dean’s arm. Miracle is snoring in her own doggy bed.

“I love Cas,” Dean says toneless into the dark room and is instantly overcome by anxiety. Somehow, even after all these years, he expects John to bust through the door and expose him and nail him to the cross or something.

He turns to his side and looks at Cas. The angel looks so relaxed in his sleep and Dean gently pats his hair. Cas mumbles a bit and burrows closer to Dean as if to seek warmth. Dean puts his free arm around him and pulls him as close as possible, tucking the angel under his chin.

He doesn’t know what to do. Cas deserves to be told. But whenever Dean thinks it might be the right time for it – then there’s John standing in the distance, observing and judging him. Dean knows he just has to do it, that he just has to push through. Dad is dead and nothing can happen anymore. But this fear is far too ingrained inside his brain. Maybe writing a letter would help? But somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.

Dean needs to say it.

He has to say it.

But he can’t.

He can’t.

For all his bravery, for all his courage – he can’t.

 “A bird learns to fly when it falls.”

Cas is not in bed when Dean wakes up.

“Water will whittle away the mountain.”

Cas is nowhere to be found inside the apartment. Miracle is quiet.

“A flower will break through the concrete.”

Dean panics. In his panic, he runs outside.

“Long after its death, a star will remain in the sky.”

 Outside it’s foggy.

But there is Cas.

Cas is standing outside, barefooted, and Dean is rooted to the spot.

There are golden orbs floating around Castiel.

Divinity, Cas had called them.

“Cas,” Dean breathes and the angel turns around.

“Hello, Dean.”

 “What are those?”

“I’ve told you. Divinity.”

“Yes, I know, but what are they?”

“A burden shared is a burden lifted. Ever since I woke all the way back before time existed, a great many stars have died. And still, some remain in the sky. Did you never wonder where they go?

Their physical form shall burn from velocity, but what about the stars? What about them? Who catches them? Where do they go? Shall they forever be lost in space?

I was lost too, you know. I was lost ever since the start. Sometimes I think I remember. Sometimes I think I remember an all consuming light in the dark. Sometimes I think I remember the beginning before it ever began. Sometimes I think I remember the void, the naught.

And then, just as quickly, I lose it again.

Why did Father abandon us?

Why did He create so many of us, if none of us mattered?

Come with us, the stars whispered to me, we have no answers but mayhap we shall find them.

Why did the stars exist, if only to die? I didn’t want them to be lost and so I collected them. I found them in the void and I took them with me for I thought I might find a purpose within them. And in time, they started finding me. I became their haven, their destination.

But still, I was lost. Each time a star would find me, I think I can see the light in the void again, the end after the end. But soon these memories are gone, too, and I can only hold on to scraps. And I wonder.

What if I don’t remember at all? What if what I see are just fragments from the stars, showing me what they saw in their last moments?

Dean, you must know: time is not linear. What happens before will happen after. The end happens before the start and sometimes the beginning happens in the middle. This time, this life is just one stream amongst them all.

Some stars tell me of the end; and others tell me of the start. Maybe some tell me of the middle. And maybe some tell me of all, and all I get is the light in the void at the start.

I’ve wondered.

Why am I broken?

Why am I, of all the angels, the only one that’s cracked?

What went wrong?

Why was it only ever me? Why wasn’t perfect like the others? Why weren’t others cracked as I was?

Why was I the only one that’s ever looked to the stars and collected them?

What if Father never made me?

What if – what if I was created by something else?

And if so, what was it? And why? And why did Father allow me to continue existing? Did He perhaps just not notice? Did He perhaps just not care? Did He perhaps just think me merely another insignificant angel that He needn’t pay attention to?

What broke the connection?

Why am I the only angel to love you?

Was I whole before, perhaps, but if that was so – what shattered me? What put me back together? Where did the missing pieces go?

The light I remember in the naught – what is it? Where does it come from? Why does it matter at all, why do I care if it lights up the void or not?

Why do I cling to a light that does not matter?

I –

I’m lost, Dean.

Amidst the stars, I am lost.

From here on out, where do I go?”

 Dean reaches out.

Castiel is standing there all alone, surrounded by what remains of the stars – surrounded by divinity.

He takes Castiel’s hand.

“Go with me,” he says.

“I love you,” he says.

Amidst the stars, Castiel smiles.

Dean thinks he can see the light that Castiel spoke about.

It’s a soft, shining light and it’s free.

 *

 “I don’t know if I can.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a big thing, Cas, you know? What if I fail?”

“Then we’ll fail together.”

 Dean buys a corner lot. It’s very expensive. But he has a dream. He doesn’t want to work construction forever. He deserves to be happy. And Cas is here. Cas is here, and Sam is here, and Eileen is here – and everyone is here.

He’s not alone and he can rely on all these people. They want to help him; they want him to be happy. He can do this. For the first time in his life, he can do something solely for himself.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have to depend only on himself.

 *

 Sam hoists Maria out of the car seat. He wants to go and help Eileen out of the car but if he did, she’d kick him in the shin.

“Are there no balloons?” Maria wants to know. Sam looks up. True, there are no balloons outside.

“I’m sure Uncle Dean’s got some inside, sweetheart.”

Maria grins from ear to ear and hugs her monkey toy harder. Cas had given it to her just a few years ago. It hadn’t even been her birthday; he had just wanted to give something to his niece. Sam is glad that they get along so well. But sometimes he debates: should they tell her that Cas is an angel? It’s not a problem right now, but he and Dean and Eileen will start aging one day while Cas will not.

But, ah well, it might be best to cross that bridge when they’d get there.

“Hunter’s Rest is a nice name,” Eileen says when she finally steps next to Sam. Sam just nods. It’s true. Sam had kept suggesting Roadhouse, in Ellen’s and Ash’s and Jo’s legacy but Dean had always refused. Dean hadn’t wanted to be a copy-cat of what they’ve been.

Dean wants something that’s his own.

And Sam couldn’t be happier for him.

It was a long road, getting here, and even now he could scarcely believe it.

But the Hunter’s Rest is officially opening today.

He smiles at Eileen, takes both his girl’s hands and enters Dean’s bar.

 “Uncle Dean!”

Maria yells as soon as she spots her uncle and throws herself at his middle from across the room. Dean laughs and catches her. He lifts her up and holds her on his hip.

“How’s my favourite tornado?”

She giggles and hugs him tight.

“Where’s Uncle Cas?”

“He’s still in the back, sweetheart. Be nice to him today, okay? It’s not a good day. But I know he’ll be happy to see you, so why don’t you go say hello?”

Maria nods with a solemn expression on her face. She knows about Uncle Cas’ bad days. She shouldn’t be too loud on these and she has to understand that he might not want to play as much with her. She loves Uncle Cas. She wouldn’t tell this to anyone because she knows Uncle Dean would be upset, but Uncle Cas is her favourite. There’s a glow about him that she can’t explain to anyone, but it draws her to him.

Uncle Dean puts her on the ground and she goes to find Uncle Cas. When she finds him, he smiles at her. He looks tired and sick, but he glows so brightly today.

“Hello, Maria,” he greets her.

She steps closer and climbs into his lap.

“I love you,” she says and Uncle Cas hugs her tight.

 “Looks good, Dean,” Sam says to Dean in the meantime. Dean grins and pulls his brother close. He nods at Eileen who waves back.

“How are we coming along?” he asks her and she rubs her stomach.

“Good,” she replies, “the doctor says it’s two.”

“Two, huh? Man, Sammy, you dog!”

Sam laughs and Dean slaps him on the shoulder.

“Maria was really hoping for some balloons,” Sam says and Dean shrugs.

“I have some in the back, but I don’t know if I should hang them up. It’s gonna be a few hours still until official opening, you know?”

“Are Charlie and Stevie coming?”

“Yeah, Charlie’s gonna help me set up the music. The others are coming too, but Donna can’t make it. Some important thing came up but she’s gonna drop by in the coming days.”

Sam nods.

“There should be balloons,” Eileen pipes up and Dean sighs deeply.

“Fine,” he says then, “but y’all are helping me with that. I ain’t the only one blowing these things up.”

“I overheard,” Cas says as he’s rolling out of the back in his wheelchair. On his lap, there are Maria and a big load of balloons.

Dean sighs. “Why am I being set up?”

Castiel smiles at Dean. “Because balloons make everything better. We should’ve gotten glitter, too, you know? We’ll help, Dean.”

 “Bad day, huh?” Sam asks him while they are placing the balloons. Dean nods.

“Last couple days actually. Yesterday was the worst; he wouldn’t even get out of bed. The day before that, he spent almost all day puking into the toilet. But he’s getting better now, I think. It’s just – I know that he’s sick. I know that these days happen and that they’ll happen again, it just – it just fucking scares me, y’know? Knowing that there’s nothing I can do, no spell to find to cure him or anything – it just makes me feel so helpless.”

Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean, you’re doing great. What you’re going through – what you both are going through – is extremely stressful. I can’t even imagine. I can’t imagine all the hurdles you had to go through to get here. How scary it has to be to wake at night and see Cas being sick again. I’m proud of you, Dean. I really am. You’re holding it together so well and if – if you ever have to break, I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. You’re not alone. You’re never alone, Dean.”

Dean huffs out a laugh and turns to hug his brother.

It’s true.

Their lone journey is over.

They started with just the two of them.

But they’re never going to be alone again.

 *

 “I love you,” Dean whispers into dark hair.

“I don’t know when I fell in love. I don’t know when I realised. But I love you. I love all of you.

We’ve endured a great many things, you and I. We fell and rose together, we burned and crashed together. And in all this time, you weren’t even supposed to be there. But you were. You fought and clawed your way back to me every single time, and I’ve never even said thank you. I never once appreciated all the pain and misery you had to endure just to get back to me.

No matter what, you were there. You were there for me and Sam when nobody else was. You stayed by your side since the very beginning and you overturned everything you believed in because you started to believe in me. You had faith in me, the man without faith. And through you – you became my faith. I believed in nothing, I had faith in nothing – except you. I had faith in you. When you were gone, so was my faith gone. And when you returned, you brought it back with you.

When we met, you told me that good things do happen.

For so long, I didn’t believe you. But you were right. And know what? That good thing that would happen to me was right in front of me. And we didn’t know. Neither of us knew. Who could’ve imagined?

A man afraid of flying and an angel afraid of falling.

We really did meet in the middle, huh?

I’m sorry, Cas. I never did right by you. All your life you thought you were wrong because you weren’t like the others. You always believed that you needed to atone for your sins someway. And I – I didn’t help you. I made you think that you were expendable, that you weren’t worth anything. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, because I was wrong.

You’re worth everything. You matter so much, Cas – to me, to Sam, to the world. I’m sorry that all of us have fallen short. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make it up to you for all eternity, because I love you. If you’ll have me for whatever reason, then I’m yours. And I’m never going to let go. If I lose you, I will stop at nothing to find you again.

It’s you and me. Now and forever.”

“Look for the light,” Castiel whispers into the darkness.

“Look for the light and you’ll always find me there.”

 *

 At the end of a long, long life, Dean opens his eyes.

Above him, there’s nothing but endless stretches of blue sky.

Dean sits up and looks around.

He’s in an onion field and he stands up.

He turns to the side and sees him there.

 There’s a trench-coat angel standing in the onion field, surrounded by the golden orbs of stars.

The wings behind him are magnificent and have the colour of a rainbow.

 Dean starts approaching him.

Behind the angel, there is a massive tree.

 “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

#supernatural #Destiel #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #writing #spn fix it #spn 15x20 #fanfiction #hurt #hurt/comfort #dean x castiel #userpris

[fandomstuff67]

Another fix it fic for 15x20

Hey guys! I’ve written another fix it and this time Cas comes to save Dean before he died. As usual read below or on Ao3

Bed of Roses Word Count: 1.8k

Dean could feel it, the rebar, digging deeper into his heart with every breath. He really hadn’t expected today to be the day that he’d bite it, but then again he’d always known he’d go out on a hunt, today was as likely as any other day. 

“I need you to tell me…” he gasped out, gripping at Sam’s jacket, “it’s okay.” 

It didn’t matter how many times he’d died in the past, he was still scared. He still didn’t know what awaited him in the afterlife, he didn’t know where he’d end up. He hated this, he hated that he hadn’t thought about the placement of the rebar in the heat of the moment, he hated that he was stupid enough to charge that vamp head on like that. 

After everything, he didn’t want to go like this, he didn’t want to watch Sam slowly fall apart in front of him, he didn’t want to leave Sam with that grief, but it was his time and he was okay with that. 

“Dean…” Sam choked out, tears dripped down his cheeks and Dean wished he could reach up to brush them away, to comfort his little brother in this moment, but he could barely keep his lungs working anymore, and his heartbeat was slowing. He just needed to hang on a little bit longer, just long enough to hear Sam tell him it was okay, he just needed to know it was okay. “It’s-” 

Sam didn’t get to finish his sentence because he was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of wings fluttering in the air. Dean couldn’t see anything around Sam, but Sam turned to look and Dean watched surprise flash over his features. Footsteps brushed against the barn floor and Sam stepped aside so Dean could see who it was. 

The pain in his chest was momentarily forgotten as shock and hope flooded through him. “Cas?” 

Cas smiled, blue eyes shining as he stopped in front of Dean and placed two fingers on his forehead. “Hello, Dean.”

An overwhelming surge of grace poured into his body and he fell forward into Cas’ arms, who then pulled him away from the rebar as he felt the wound heal. He gasped into Cas’ chest and his fingers curled into the soft fabric of his trench coat, never wanting to let go. 

“Is this real?” he asked as he held Cas tighter. 

“Yes,” Cas replied. 

“You’re alive?” he gasped out as what were once tears of pain became tears of joy. 

“I am.” 

Dean finally pulled away, just enough to look into Cas’ eyes. “How?”

“Jack,” Cas answered, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course,” Dean breathed through a small chuckle. He let his hands loosen just a little on Cas’ coat, enough for him to step back slightly. “Cas… when you… left… I didn’t… I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t need to,” Cas replied softly. 

Dean shook his head. “No, but that’s just it Cas, I did need to, because I love you too.” 

Cas smiled, it was just as bright and beautiful as it had been when he’d let the empty swallow him. “I never thought I’d hear you say it.” 

“I’m sorry I never said it before.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Cas replied. 

“Yeah well, still, let me make it up to you.” 

Dean let his hands make their way up to Cas’ face where they rested for a moment before he pulled the angel into a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate, but perfect and incredible at the same time, and when they pulled apart Dean couldn’t help but laugh, Cas joined in and then Dean was hugging him again, holding onto him like if he ever let go Cas would vanish in a shadow of black goo again. 

“Um,” Sam cleared his throat and Dean suddenly snapped back into the reality where he realized his brother had been watching this whole thing unfold. 

Dean turned away from Cas, but he made sure to slip his hand into the angel’s, still keeping that contact between them. “Sorry, Sammy.” 

Sam only smiled. “Don’t be, I’m glad you both finally sorted your shit out and I’m happy you’re back, Cas.” Dean grinned and let go of Cas’ hand so he could pull Sam into a hug. “It’s all going to be okay now, Dean,” Sam said, a smile in his voice.

Dean nodded as he clapped Sam on the back and pulled away. “Let’s go get those boys out of here, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Sam replied as he looked from Dean to Cas, “let’s.”

****

 Dean shifted his feet on the hay strewn ground, his nerves were firing on all cylinders and he swallowed hard to dislodge the lump rising in his throat. 

Today was the day he thought he’d never get to have, the day he was going to marry the love of his life. They’d thought it fitting to do it in the barn they’d first met in, and even though Dean had spent months trying to prepare himself for this moment, he was still shaking. 

He could smell the white rose that was pinned to his lapels, the rose that Cas had insisted he wear. Cas had also insisted on Dean in a dark red suit while he himself wore a white one, with a red rose. 

Dean looked over at Sam, who was standing proud beside him, with Miracle at his feet, a black bow tie around his neck, and gave him a nod, which Sam returned. “You’ve got this,” Sam whispered. 

“I hope so,” Dean replied.

When the music started and Dean turned to look at the barn doors as the split open once again, as Castiel emerged, clad in his suit, a bright smile on his face, and walked towards him, Dean knew that this was going to be the beginning of the best years of his life. 

Jody had graciously agreed to officiate their wedding, and when Dean took Cas’ hands in his, and let their eyes meet, he felt every bubble of nervousness pop within him. He was about to commit to spending the rest of his life with Cas, and he had never been more sure about doing anything in his life. 

Their vows were simple, merely a few promises uttered to open air, solidifying the most profound bond to ever exist on Earth. Their kiss was magical, and applause ran out through the barn. When they turned around, hand in hand, and looked at their found family, the family they’d worked so hard to expand and grow, he was sure he’d never felt happier.

Music started up from speakers around the barn and everyone stood to move their chairs out of the way while Dean and Castiel faced each other for their first dance. 

Bed of Roses, but Bon Jovi began to filter through the air and Dean let his head fall to Cas’ shoulder while Cas wrapped one hand around his waist and held Dean’s hand with his other. 

The first verse passed with them just rocking to the music, Dean drinking in the feeling of Cas’ hands around him and the press of his new ring on his finger. But when the second verse began, Dean moved to look at Cas, letting themselves separate just slightly, so they could lock eyes.

With an ironclad fist, I wake up and French kiss the morning.

While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head.

While we’re talking, about all of the things that I long to believe.

About love and truth and what you mean to me.

And the truth is, baby you’re all that I need.

“You’re all that I need,” Cas said and Dean smiled.   

As the chorus played and they swayed together, Dean began to hum to the music, and he let their foreheads come together, he let the air between them become the same, and he pressed a kiss to Cas’ soft lips.

He could smell the roses between them and the scent of his own cologne and Cas’, he could feel the eyes of their friends on their backs, but they soon melted away, and it suddenly felt like it was just the two of them, alone in this barn, the place they’d first met, the place where both their lives changed for the better, the place where it all began. 

The next verse spun around them as they swayed. 

Well I’m so far away, that each step that I take is on my way home.

A king’s ransom in dimes I’d given each night, just to see through this payphone. 

Still I run out of time, or it’s hard to get through.

Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you, I’ll just close my eyes and whisper… Baby blind love is true.

“Baby, blind love is true,” Dean murmured, only loud enough for Cas to hear. Cas grinned and Dean grinned back.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed.

Once the song ended and they separated, the music shifted and everyone came onto the dance floor. Sam and Eileen came first, followed by Claire and Kaia, and Charlie and Stevie came after and Jody even got Bobby to dance. Donna had dragged Doug to the wedding and they were swaying beside Jody and Bobby. Pretty soon everyone was dancing to the music and Dean looked around the room in awe at just how many people had turned up. 

Eventually, the dance partners switched up and Dean let Cas be pulled away by Claire, who demanded that she have a chance to dance with him. Dean swung Donna in for a loop and Sam pulled Jody in close as she let out a whoop of laughter. 

“I’m real happy for ya, Dean,” Donna said.

“Thanks,” Dean grinned as he snuck a glance at Cas spinning Claire in close. 

They danced the night away and tables were set up with food and drinks. It was nothing special, just pizza and cheap beer, but it was perfect and Dean wouldn’t want it any other way. 

As the night wore itself out and people began to bid the newly weds goodnight, Dean and Cas lingered, locked in each other’s arms and when it was finally just the two of them, left to their own devices, Dean slipped his hand into Cas’ and led him from the barn towards where Baby was parked. 

“Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

Dean drove them to an empty field, where they intended to watch the stars but ended up making out in the backseat where Dean fell asleep on top of Cas and Cas spent the night smoothing back Dean’s hair and kissing him softly as he watched over him. 

****

It was a long life they led, spent with family and laughter, and when Dean finally breathed his last and entered Heaven, Cas flew up to join him. Sam and Eileen followed in their wake not long after and they spent the rest of eternity sipping beers in the Roadhouse, surrounded by all the friends and family they’d lost along the way. 

Tag list (ask to be added or removed):

@anotherdowneyfan1 @tearsofgrace @quxxnxfhxll @rebelangel67 @professorerudite @adsdragonlover @wantstoflyafraidtofall @goblinwritergay

#Supernatural #spn #fix it fic for 15x20 #destiel #happily ever after #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #deancas #casdean #bed of roses #fandom stuff on ao3 #my writing #fix it

[wakkowraith]

Aight aight here’s what I got:

(I’ve not watched season 15 cause I was queerbaited by the gay Angel confession, but from what I’ve gathered there wasn’t a lot to work with in the first place)

First off, keep the final villain ig, this plan works with any (altho it would be a lot more satisfying if it was built up but this is what we have) vampire clowns or whatever. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Dean doesn’t die. He gets injured, severely injured, and ends up permanently disabled.

This prompts Sam to suggest retirement, which Dean is resistant to. They put it off for a while, go on hunts, during one of which Sam reconnects with Eileen. They get serious and Sam brings up retirement again, and Dean finally relents.

They buy separate houses right next to each other. Sam and Eileen get married, have a daughter named Mary Maura Winchester. Dean is the fun uncle, always teaching Mary tricks and things her father doesn’t allow. Like shooting a gun, which Dean considers essential, but Sam is firm that she doesn’t need to learn that yet. This actually causes a conflict for a while until they inevitably make up.

They both have some form of PTSD after all their fucking trauma. Sam’s manifests as night terrors. Constantly waking up in the night, hallucinating his father or his brother or Lucifer or Jack or the hundred other people that have died because of him, have hurt him. Eileen has grown used to this - she’s not without her own traumas after all - and they learn to navigate this together.

Dean’s manifests as paranoia. He keeps a police scanner in his house and constantly listens to the chatter. He keeps a log of unusual sightings that never result in anything. Once, he got drunk at a bar and became convinced the bouncer was a shapeshifter - “laser-eyes,” he told Sam, who dragged him out before a fight could start. Never mind Sam shook his hand with his silver wedding band, which prompted no reaction (a handy thing really - Eileen’s idea).

Dean really tries. He tries to pick up hobbies - he became briefly infatuated with wood carving, which Mary kept a few of his early pieces on a shelf above her bed - then after that coaching Mary’s Little League team, but he resigned after one year for being too rough on the kids - and he finally settled for bartending, and kept that for far longer than anyone thought he would, including his boss.

Dean really tried, but even after years of forcing domesticity, he still kept track of the color of the sky or natural disasters, still keeping a log of murders and missing persons, still on guard for the next apocalypse, the next big-bad that will try to kill them or kill the world or both. Even after all these years, he has to do something.

After Mary manages to recite the Latin exorcism verse back to him and successfully shoot a bottle from a stone’s throw away, Sam gives him an earful that reminds them both awfully of their father. I dont want Mary to worry about that, Sam said. I don’t want Mary to be like us.

How is she going to protect herself when you’re not there, then? In this world?

We made this world safe, Sam had said. We did it for a reason. For her.

And later, Dean nurses a glass of something cheap that smells of gasoline while thumbing the well-loved photo from an unused FBI ID, one that’s printed with a false name and a familiar face, and he wonders how this is supposed to be their happy ending when something is so desperately missing.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise then, when Sam goes to check on Dean a few quiet days later and finds his brother’s very few precious possessions gone, impala included. He tells Mary some excuse that her uncle’s gone traveling and, secretly, privately, quizzes her on the exorcism verses and their matching signs.

(He didn’t go after Dean because - well, it should be obvious. They’re older. Sam found out a month prior he could keel over from a heart attack any day now. Eileen is eight weeks pregnant. He can’t be responsible for his brother anymore, not when he has his girls, his family, to look out for now.)

They have a boy. They name him Dean, out of remembrance, since Sam is sure the next time he’ll see his brother is a John Doe in the newspaper, and give him the middle name Edward-John out of obligation.

Dean is approaching his first birthday when their neighbors are murdered.

Nice people, the Ashleys, if overbearing in their unwaveringly friendly personalities. They seemed to try very hard to get everyone in the neighborhood to like them, which made it even more shocking to discover Adam Ashley’s body strung like a kabob on the power lines between their houses.

Sam didn’t jump the gun, which was reasonable in a small town where, for the last fifteen years, nothing at all insinuous has happened, but it was the protective father and skilled hunter in him that double checked the locked doors at night, poured salt beneath the windows, and kept a loaded shotgun beside the bed.

Only days later, the Bishop’s girl, Vanessa, was subjected to the same fate. That hit Mary the hardest; Vanessa was on her Little League team, and it’s not a great thing to deal with for a pre-teen just entering high school.

For the first time in over a decade, Sam took inventory of his arsenal while Mary was at school and Dean was asleep. He cleaned and reloaded his guns, sharpened his daggers, restocked the salt bags. Carved stakes, shined silver, and flipped through his old log book to hopefully find whatever the fuck is tormenting the kids in his domain.

Eileen walks in and watches him from the doorway for a while. Then she claims the spot beside him and starts reloading the pistols, her fingers still deft and quick. Quicker than he is, and she gives him a smug smirk as she takes the next one, and Sam huffs a laugh and carry on like they aren’t preparing for the worst to hit their picturesque homescape.

You know we can’t take it on alone, she says.

We have before, he tells her.

We were younger then. Less kids. She says this with a smile, but he knows the second birth took its toll on her and they’re still struggling with that loss.

We might be the only ones who can help, he says instead.

Your heart can’t take it.

I’ve survived worse.

She isn’t happy with his answer, especially when he looks away and she can’t read his lips.

Before this can lead to an argument, a series of heavy knocks come to their door. They glance at each other, and only in the way of a long marriage they communicate through couple’s telepathy. Sam tucks a glock in his pants as he approaches the front door while Eileen takes care of the mess of unregistered guns hidden beneath their family room’s floor.

Crafting a smile, Sam answers the door. He means to open with a friendly, Hey, how are ya? Followed by a fatherly pat on the back at whichever neighbor decided to drop by with condolences or gossip. Instead, he finds himself reeling at the visitors.

Two young woman stand just outside their front door, chests puffed, suits that are too wide on the shoulders and hang too low on their fingertips, hands holding out FBI badges, they spew a rehearsed speech about investigating the local murders.

Sam waits for them to finish before giving them a lopsided, more familiar grin, as he asks for their boss’ number.

The girls give each other a quick glance, one of internal panic and the other of external. The prior one digs out a business card with a number professionally printed on it, and Sam digs his cell phone out of his pocket and dials the number.

It rings, and rings, and Sam wonders if maybe he miscalculated, maybe he was wrong - and then a click.

Director Harris speaking.

Sam stifles a laugh. The gruff voice on the other end asks who’s calling and threatens to hang up. Sam pulls himself together long enough to speak.

Hey, Dean.

A long pause. Sam waits. The girls’ eyes are wide and they seem to be trying to communicate to each other through eyes only. Then,

Hi, Sammy.

Now I would end it there except I want more Castiel content and I know you do too, so, after this, the screen fades to black and we think the credits are gonna roll. But then, in the Empty, there’s a muffled voice saying something we can’t make out yet. There’s some static in the background that quiets and quiets and continues until, very clearly, we hear:

“Cas. Hey, Cas! Wake up!”

Cut to black, credits roll.

#an open ending is all I hoped for and they couldn’t get that right #supernatural #destiel #spn #spn s15 #spn spoilers #Ig? idk #markiboss talks #markiboss writes #rewrites #sorry about the lack of a cut I wrote this whole thing on mobile

[unfortunatelydestiel]

I found some old destiel fics I’d started about 2-3 years ago but never finished and BOI I’m so mad at myself for not having finished any of them cos I wanted to read them, but here’s a wordy basic one im mad at myself for not completing and am not 100% sure where it was headed...

About 3k words? WARNING: Cas steals blankets :I ((Also some time travel thing iirc, but Dean’s in such Denial(tm) for reasons))

***

The sharp pain in Dean’s head lasted only a second before numbing and then disappearing entirely. Dean gave a low groan, rubbing his eyes and opening them, his first thought being-

Where the fuck am I?

The first view Dean got was of a wooden roof, and sitting up, took in the bedroom he was in. It appeared to be part of a wooden cabin, right outside the window was nothing but trees, and a blasting of sunlight through the crack of the door on the other side of the room. The bed moved slightly, and Dean had been so still he knew it hadn’t been him to create the movement, which made him highly aware that someone was in the bed next to him (and stolen all the blankets no less, as Dean saw he only wore underwear).

Whoever was next to him in the bed had wrapped themselves up entirely, so Dean really had no idea who was there. He didn’t even know where he was, fingers going to his temples and he rubbed. The last thing he could remember happening was being on a hunt with Sam, that he was sure about. But what had they been hunting again? He couldn’t remember, he was sure they’d figured it out.

His hand went to his neck, and he felt string around it, looking down and seeing a small container that lit up bright around his neck. If he knew better, he’d say it was Angel Grace, but that couldn’t be possible. Not likely. Because where would he get that during the night? He decided to just pretend it didn’t exist for now.

Careful not to wake his sleeping neighbour – most likely a one-night stand, but he usually woke up naked after those so that confused him further – Dean quietly placed his feet on the floor, glancing at the bedside table, noting it was six in the morning, and standing up.

He opened the door as much as he dared, which faintly creaked, he shimmied out into the hallway. The sun was coming out of a window right outside the door, and Dean couldn’t help but grin widely and the view of the beach. A clean, empty, clear-skied, calm beach. He cranked open the window, also wooden, also creaking, but he didn’t care so much, just wanting the breeze of the beach on his face. Dean leaned against the window, elbows on the window sill and clasping his fingers together. That’s when he felt the metal of a ring on his left hand, one that had never been there before. And he looked down, so stunned everything else around him was forgotten momentarily.

It was a wedding ring. It had to be. Why else would it be on his ring finger? It was a silver band, but with something engraved on it, and when he brought it closer to his face he saw it was a wing. A feathery-styled potentially-angelic wing.

Dean mentally cursed at the fact his right hand was trembling as he went to take it off. Part of him knew what it would say, he wasn’t sure how or why. But part of him expected this unasked want, and looked inside the ring, seeing an engraved-

Dean + Cas

Dean shoved the ring back onto his finger, breath hitching and he closed his eyes to calm himself down.

What the hell had been the last thing to happen? Why couldn’t he remember? Should he wake Cas to ask? – because it had to be Cas in there – And what about Sam? Where the hell was Sam?

Dean opened his eyes again, and closed the window, deciding to take a quick peek around the cabin. The hallway wasn’t long, with one other room – currently lined with some boxes – and a bathroom on one end, and to the other he came into the open living room and kitchen. It was definitely a two-person place, and judging by the protective sigils on the doors and walls, maybe a hunter’s cabin.

At least it was on the beach.

Through the door in the kitchen was the patio, with stairs leading down to the beach. Which meant the door on the other side of the room would be the entry, and – yep, Dean realised when he looked out – lead out into a forest, there was a dirt and sand road, as well as a carport with Baby parked underneath.

At least he knew where she was. Dean was slightly relieved, closing the door and quickly searching around the room.

He spotted a phone on the kitchen counter, picking it up and hoping it was his by trying his pin code, but he stopped at the photo on the lock screen.

Sam was the one clearly taking the self, judging from the position. His younger brother pulling a dumb face, and then there was Dean and Cas. Cas was hugging Dean from behind, head on his shoulder and Dean’s head was turned to give him a peck on his cheek.

He stared for a good moment, before swiping fast, ignoring the churning in his stomach. He tried his pin and bingo, he got in. Without a second thought he called Sam.

“Dean?” the groggy voice from the other end said, “What time is it?”

“Sammy,” Dean hissed, “where are you?”

“Uhh… the other side of the country,” Sam said, and Dean had no idea why he was being so cryptic like that, “I called you yesterday, Eileen and I are tracking down a rugarou. Why are you calling? Did something happen? Is Cas okay?”

“Where’s Jack?” Dean asked, not wanting to answer any of those questions because he really had no idea.

“Uhh… At Sioux Falls, helping out the girls. Dude, seriously, are you drunk?”

“I’m fine,” Dean eventually said, hating Sam’s tone of voice. “I’m fine. I mean, I think I’m fine. I don’t know if I’m fine.”

There was silence on the other end, eventually Sam spoke, sounding exasperated “You’re not having a gay panic on your honeymoon, are you? Because, Dean, it’s kind of a little late for that if you haven’t noticed.”

Dean spluttered, “I’m not- I’m- I… what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just talk to Cas. I’ll call you when the Rugarou’s hunted and I’m back at the Bunker,” Sam sounded so done, and he must’ve been because Dean couldn’t say anything else and Sam had already hung up on him.

Dean glared at his phone like it had insulted him. Well, it felt like Sam had definitely insulted him. A gay panic? Please. He’s not panicking because he’s married to Cas – well maybe a little – more like… it’s Cas, and he’s… a little surprised is all, but there wasn’t a bad feeling that came from it, weirdly. And Dean rubbed his face, then put his head in his hands, groaning. Talk to Cas, Sam had said, and he was right, he should, but how was Dean going to say he can’t remember jackshit. He doesn’t want to see Cas’ reaction to that, but it’s not like he can lie.

“Dean?” He heard down the hall, “It’s six in the morning…”

Great, great, now he’d have to handle Cas now and he wasn’t sure he could. From around the corner, a very sleepy and definitely human Cas peeked around at him. His hair was wild mess and he had all the blankets from bed wrapped around him, where it partly dragged across the floor.

At any other time, Dean might’ve been angry and given a scolding because their blankets are going to be dirty, but he couldn’t help but be delighted at the sight of Cas.

“You okay?” Cas asked, trying to fight a yawn but giving in.

“Yeah,” Dean said, because despite whatever the hell was happening, right now in these few seconds he was perfectly fine.

Cas dragged himself over to him, noticing his phone in front of him on the counter and he frowned, “Did somebody call at this time in the morning?”

“Oh no… I uh… called Sammy.”

Cas was still frowning when he looked up at Dean, the bed blankets rubbing up against him as Cas adjusted them, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

It was now or never, Dean thought. Time to lie or tell the truth, and Dean hated himself for what he said next, “I just had a bad feeling when I woke up is all. But Sammy’s fine.”

Cas’ frown disappeared and it turned into a small smile, resting his forehead onto Dean’s shoulder and sighing into him. Dean found himself unable to move, wondering what he should do next. Part of him wanted to do something, but another part of him said to step away, to not do this.

Cas looked up at him with an expression he was unfamiliar with seeing on Cas’ face, and Dean felt fingers caressing down his side, “Come back to bed,” Dean felt Cas’ warm breath on his ear.

Dean, on the other hand, felt himself unable to breath again, and put on a poker face so Cas couldn’t tell that he was, probably, having what Sam had called a gay panic.

Despite not trying to reveal feelings, he must have completely revealed feelings, because Cas instantly stepped away, grabbing Dean’s hand into his as though for comfort and was frowning again, “Dean – Something’s wrong, what is it?”

If this were angel Cas, he’d be certain Cas was using his abilities to be able to read Dean. But, it was pretty damn clear that Cas was no longer an angel and the fact that any human could see right through him made Dean feel awkward. And because of the discomfort, Dean said nothing for a moment, hell he didn’t even move, keeping Cas’ hand in his. He looked the former angel up and down, the blanket fallen enough that Dean could see what Cas was finally wearing. A pair of what might’ve been grey pyjama pants or sweat pants Dean didn’t know, and no shirt on, a hickey pretty visible at the bottom of his neck. Dean felt like he should be embarrassed by it, but his only thought was if they married then hell- that’s definitely bound to happen.

And the lack of embarrassment or disgust made Dean awkward again because he should be right? He should be thinking how fucking weird it was that in this moment Cas was holding his hand, a ring on each of their fingers and yeah- he has no idea what the fuck is going on but he shouldn’t be completely apathetic by a hickey he probably gave Cas.

“Dean,” Cas repeated, staring intently into his eyes, Cas’ own blue ones wide and filled with worry.

“I dunno,” Dean said gently pulling his hand from Cas’, looking away. He went over and sat on the couch which looked partly moth-eaten and would make most people turn away from this place for their own honeymoon, but Dean didn’t give a damn. The couch, while shabby, was comfy as hell.

He pushed the thoughts of everything that was happening right now away, trying to think what was happening before, what this could be. He couldn’t’ve time travelled because he wouldn’t be in his own body. A different type of time travel? Just straight up memory loss?

He couldn’t think through it further because Cas sat down on the coffee table in front of him, letting the blanket pile around his waist. Cas placed his palm on Dean’s cheek, caressing with his fingers, “Talk to me.”

Dean had pretty much lost himself at this point, his mind going blank, his body was relaxed but unable to move.

This wasn’t real. None of it.

It was a cruel, epically cruel, joke.

Dean found himself able to move his hand, just so he can take Cas’ off his face. This couldn’t happen. “Cas, I don’t remember.”

Dean watched the angel’s – former angel’s – eyebrows knit together. He could see Cas didn’t want to believe him, believe that. “What?”

“All of this, I don’t remember. The wedding… or…” He couldn’t continue.  

“I don’t understand,” Cas said. Though going by his expression, he understood perfectly because that was a shattered heart, and was exactly why Dean hadn’t wanted to say anything. So, he kept hold of Cas’ hand because he wasn’t sure how else to comfort him without making it uncomfortable for himself.

This was somebody’s doing. A demon, a trickster…

A djinn??

No, it couldn’t be a djinn. His mind tried to fit that puzzle together. Djinn dreams gave you happiness, and okay sure they’ve met their share of different djinns but if this was run of the mill then this was it.

Or, okay, run of the mill djinns gave you what you thought you wanted. When it was Dean wanting his mum back and a normal life and Sam with a normal life… him and Sammy hadn’t been talking – which definitely wasn’t something Dean had wanted.

He was clearly on speaking terms with Sam, and Sam was out hunting with Eileen so their thing was still a thing. And Jack was in Sioux Falls so a lot of people who they consider family have met each other and get along, helping each other out, hunt together. That was all great and dandy, but he’s pretty sure they’d all be in the bunker and Cas would still be an angel.

But then again, Cas doesn’t have to be an angel, he just has to be Cas. And this was definitely Cas right here. Maybe not heavenly wrath, powered up, feathery wings Cas, but just Cas.

Then Dean was realising his strange line of thought. So, would his Djinn dream still have him with Cas? Angel or not?

No, of course not. Him and Cas would be on good terms. Cas would be around all the time, sure, and not get hurt or killed like ever and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about him or miss him or be thinking about him when he wasn’t there. Cas would choose to stay with them, not running off because of duty, because of that damned feeling of responsibility he seemed to hold for heaven and angels.

But with Cas? Wholly unnecessary... At least... he thought so... 

Cas had withdrawn from Dean, now by all the sigils at the doors, checking them all one by one, hands brushing over them.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“M-Maybe we painted a sigil wrong, maybe something got through,” Cas sounded… distressed? It was pretty awful to hear and made Dean stand up.

“Do you… know what it could be?” Dean was almost hopeful, because right now he didn’t like any of his ideas.

“What don’t you remember?” Cas turned instantly to him, walking up and grabbing his shoulders, “the past two weeks? The past two months?” and the next part Cas said with immense distress “the past two years?”

“Cas!” Dean shrugged his hands off, “look okay, the last thing I remember were Sam and I were on a hunt-”

And for a second something flashed in Dean’s mind- a warehouse.

FUCK.

No, this wasn’t a djinn. It couldn’t be.

Cas didn’t look amused, “You and Sam were on a hunt! That doesn’t narrow it down Dean- what were you hunting?”

“I have no idea,” Dean said, ignoring the other flash that went through, “But Cas you gotta calm down-”

“Calm down!” Cas sounded rather furious, “Calm! Dean this is our honeymoon!”

“Yeah I kinda got that,” Dean said quietly, looking down at his wedding ring.

When he looked back up Cas was rubbing his eyes with his hands.

Was Cas crying? Dean wasn’t sure if he could handle- yep… Cas was crying. Or maybe almost crying. He definitely looked pretty panicked with watery eyes.

“Hey,” Dean said, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “it’s okay, we’re going to figure this out okay?” and because he really didn’t want to see Cas- fake or not – so hurt he brought him in for a hug and Cas gripped to him like someone starving for touch.

“You still remember us, right?” Cas said as they hugged, “together?”

Dean didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to be honest, because he didn’t want to break Cas more than he already had in his life, but he had to and simply replied “No.”

--

Cas dropped his phone down onto the couch, “I texted Sam to call once he’s finished the hunt.” He’d passed the distressed stage after the revelation and instead kept detached from Dean, not even looking at him.

Dean clenched his jaw, sitting on the couch, not a single idea with what to do or how to handle this.

The blankets still lay on the table and Cas went to gather it up, staying away from Dean as best he could, practically stretching over to it and then snatching it up fast.

“I’m gonna put this back,” Cas muttered.

“And then we’ll figure out what this is, yeah?” Dean asked as Cas disappeared into the bedroom. The former angel gave no reply so Dean slunk down into the couch, huffing.

No way this could be a Djinn dream if Cas was acting like this. Okay – well, it still could be but Dean was still coming up with a bunch of theories. Like witches.

Witches were always doing dumb shit. He might not even put it past Rowena to have done something this alarming. Or maybe he ended up in the body of himself in some Alternate Reality, one where he could actually be worthy of Cas to begin with.

Dean sat on the couch a little longer, still in his underwear too. He had hardly batted an eye at the fact that he was dressed like this around Cas. Well, Cas hadn’t either, and all things considering of course Cas would hardly care. The guy had been walking around shirtless and Dean hadn’t minded looking at his toned muscles or –

Okay, getting very fast away from those thoughts. On the other hand they were married...

“Cas?” Dean called out again when the other man still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Dean got off the couch immediately and went to the room to find Cas back in bed and covering himself in blankets.

“Cas?” Dean asked again, circling the bed and sitting on the floor next to him. He’d wrapped himself like a cocoon, only his face showing. His miserable, upsetting expression back too. “Talk to me,” Dean said.

This only caused Cas to roll himself over, “I believe my plight is rather obvious, Dean.”

Dean stood up so he could bend over and see Cas’ face on the other side, “Dude, seriously, we’ll figure this out.”

“Stop calling me that,” Cas said, adjusting himself so he could cover his face too.

“Stop calling you what? Dude?”

“And man, and pal, and buddy, and whatever other stupid words you use that insinuate nothing more than a platonic relationship,” he heard Cas’ muffle from under the blanket. There was annoyance in his voice.

Dean was pretty much leaning against Castiel now, “Uh yeah, sure… uh…” He almost said ‘sure man’ but obviously that would have been stupid. He also didn’t want to point out that the last thing he remembered was that Cas and him didn’t have a relationship that was romantic or sexual in nature.

Cas suddenly sat up, and Dean quickly threw himself off so he wasn’t leaning against him. “Do you love me?”

((Me @ me: HEY DUDE WTF))

#my post #my fanfic #destiel #deancas #long post #oof

[19mrs-barnes17]

Partners in Life

[credit : @19mrs-rogers18​]

Summary: You are the daughter of Jody Mills and marrying Dean Winchester

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Mills!reader

Warnings: fluff? 

Word count: 1,887

A/N: Just one of my many daydreams put into a fic. Enjoy!

~

Dean Winchester. Your partner in crime, almost quite literally, and your favorite human being on the planet. He was the person who kept you going, who motivated you to be a better person and help people. Though he wasn’t the reason you found hunting, he was the reason you had a safe place and arms to hold you when the job got rough. He was your shoulder to cry on and your closest confidant, and you were his. There was no doubt in your mind that you love him with all that you are, and would gladly follow him into the flames. You knew he would follow you to hell and back, though that seemed to be more of a supply run type of typical at this point. He trusted you with his whole being and you trusted him. So when he got down on one knee and produced a ring from his pocket you instantly knew your answer. He was the only person for you and you couldn’t believe you had found him. The life you led didn’t really leave room for dating anyone who wasn’t a hunter. Your options were slim but you never imagined he would be amongst them. 

“Hey love, so our mothers are sort of throwing a hunter wedding for us and apparently we have no say in whether it happens.” The words flew from your lips at a rather frightening speed and left Dean speechless. “Something about being outvoted.”

“There’s two of them and two of us. How are we…”

“I asked the same thing. No comment.” You raised your brow and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It seems we have a traitor in our midst.”

Two sets of eyes scanned the room where Cas and Sam sat absentmindedly flipping through books and scrolling through news feed. Jack was likely in his room playing some sort of new video game he had discovered. But which one was the vote? Or were they all votes?

“I’ll take Sam you take Cas?” Dean nodded and you set off to interrogate his brother, who sat in a world of his own with his eyes glued to a screen. You closed his laptop and hoisted yourself onto the table before him, brows raised expectantly. “What have you done Samuel?”

“I don’t know, what?” Sam’s expression was a mix somewhere between confused and amused, brow furrowed as he stared into your eyes. 

“Don’t play games with me Winchester. I know you sided with your mother.” You jokingly pointed accusingly at him, a smirk forming on his lips. “What?”

“I didn’t do it. But I'm glad someone did, you two deserve some sense of normalcy.” Determining Sam was not the vote you pushed off the table and made your way to Dean who had just finished talking to Cas. One shake of his head and you were left with only one option.

Jack sat on his bed, headphones on and deeply invested into whatever game he was trying to beat. When you knocked he pulled down his headset to rest around his neck, a beaming smile on his face.

“This game is excellent! Thank you for the recommendation. This Witcher is most grumpy, kind of like Dean.” You chuckle softly before sitting yourself on the end of his bed.

“I’m glad. Now, I need to know if you were the one who voted for the wedding.” You were surprised when he shook his head, and stared at Dean with confusion in his eyes.

“Do you know who did?” He nodded, smile growing even wider before pointing at Dean and placing his headphones back over his ears. “Et tu brute?”

You followed Dean into the hall, perplexed at his sudden interest in a wedding. When you had discussed the possibility before you had expressed your lack of desire for a big wedding. Dean had shared the desire to keep everything small and even lightly suggested elopement. Now, now you were having a wedding filled with hunters, in the woods, a wedding dress and all. It certainly wasn’t what you had expected from life, not considering the job description.

“You could’ve just told me you wanted one, I’m okay with that you dummy.” He chuckles softly at you wrapping his arms around your waist, muttering how it was a surprise. “So if you weren’t interrogating Cas what did you talk about?”

“I told him that if not for Sam he’d be my best man, but since the position is filled he can be a groomsman.” You faked a flinch, earning an eye roll and a smirk from Dean in the process. “He’s honored, his words not mine.”

“Well crap that means I need a Maid of Honor for Sam and a bridesmaid for Cas. Making me socialize, the audacity.” A kiss and he’s down the hall on his way to the kitchen to whip up a few hamburgers. 

A few calls later and you are completely ready to not socialize for weeks, but you still haven’t found anyone to fill your slots. Sam makes a suggestion that has you both teasing him and cursing at yourself for not thinking of it first. Eileen. She was the perfect Maid of Honor, the two of you got a lot quite well and had hunted together on several occasions. It also didn’t hurt that she and Sam were head over heels for one another. One call later and she’s on board, absolutely embarrassed by the pairing.

“Any luck beautiful?” Dean set a plate before you, sitting in the adjacent chair with his own burger.

“Sam is walking down the aisle with Eileen. Not in the way we would hope, but close enough.” Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head at the image. “Still stuck on someone to walk with Cas.”

“What about that friend of yours? The one who specializes in werewolves.” Tara! You had nearly forgotten about her, you hadn’t had contact in ages. She wasn’t exactly your bestie but you trusted her to be on your side in a fight. 

“Hey Tara I have an unbelievable favor to ask” Her brows raise and she stares expectantly into the camera. “It��s not about hunting. I need a bridesmaid for my wedding.”

“Your what?” Stares at her screen flabbergasted, unable to form any words for several minutes. “Who’s the lucky bastard?” You turned the screen to reveal a hungry Dean shoving the remainder of his burger into his mouth. “Dean Winchester? You’re marrying Dean Winchester?”

“I know, it’s crazy. I can’t believe it myself sometimes.” She smiles softly watching your face light up as you recount what she missed. “So, can I count on you?”

“Oh most definitely chica. I have never heard of a hunter wedding ever happening, especially not between two of the top hunters in the country. This is like our royal wedding, plus I’d never miss seeing you actually put on a dress.” You roll your eyes and laugh, it was true you were usually not the type for dresses or makeup. 

A few minutes more and you’ve achieved your goal, you are finally able to eat your meal before Dean has the chance to sneak some of it. He smiles softly at you as he opens up his laptop and you once again are lost in the dream of the moment. You were marrying Dean Winchester, very soon.

***

A fluttering in your chested amped the excitement and nerves that you were feeling as you prepared yourself to walk down the aisle with your mother. Seeing her in her violet dress was a stark contrast from the sheriff uniform you had grown up with in Sioux Falls. She was beaming at you with complete and utter pride, eyes already tearing up just looking at you in white. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. I wish your dad could see how far you’ve come and all the good you’ve done.” She wipes a stray tear from her cheek before linking arms with you. “He’d be so proud of his little girl.”

“Oh, mom.” Now you were tearing up, thinking of your father and little brother for the first time in months.

“C’mon, we Mills girls gotta get our crap together. It’s showtime.” She smiled softly at you before turning to watch the path before you.

“Yes ma’am, you got it Sheriff Mills.” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder and chuckles, leading you down the marked aisle.

When you raise your eyes from the grass and land them on what seemed like the only other person in the room you nearly broke down right then and there. The tightness is your chest loosened and you felt like you were walking on air. It was silly but staring into his teary green eyes made you dead certain he was the only person you ever wanted to share your life with. No other would suffice. The way he looked at you was like being told you were the only thing in the world worth a damn to him. It felt like a comforting embrace that you never wanted to leave.

He held your hands and whispered that you looked like, and pardon his cheesiness, an angel. To which Castiel concurred, though he believed you were what angels should strive to be and not the other way around. Your heart was swelling with love and happiness as you stood before your fellow hunters, your friends, and your family with the man you were hopelessly in love with. When he kissed you everything else blurred and silenced, the beating of your heart and the taste of his lips were all you knew. Nothing else mattered 

When you cut the cake you knew he’d try to smear it on your face so you beat him to the punch, taking a frosting covered finger to his nose. You giggled mischievously, eyes twinkling as you stared into his forest green eyes. He was so quick to coat your nose as well, you nearly didn’t catch his arm. You pushed his frosting covered fingers onto his face and saw the camera flash out of the corner of your eye. 

“Cheat.” The smile on his face was the brightest you had ever seen, it warms your heart and distracts you from his sneak attack. A small glob of frosting resting on your nose in a mere instant. You gasped dramatically before swiping it off and eating it, too much frosting was being wasted for your liking.

“Now we eat this sucker.” You lead your husband to the head table and begin to dig into the delicious marble cake. “Oh by the way, my aunt made her famous chocolate pie for just us.” 

“Oh hell yes. Best day ever.” He practically moans as he scarfs down his slice of cake. 

“Wow, I’m on the same level of awesome as pie? I’m flattered.” Dean cups your cheek and kisses you tenderly.

“Oh you’re a tier above pie.” You playfully shove his shoulder before resting your forehead against his and sigh. “I love you Y/N Winchester.”

The sound of your new last name brings a smile to your face, it was one of many in a new series of firsts. He was your husband now, but he was already your partner in life.

“I love you Dean Winchester.”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​

Send asks to join tags!

#dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #jody mills daughter #mills!reader #supernatural #cw #send me asks

[chaoticdean]

Can I pls pls pls get a sweet fic with Cas contemplating just how exquisitely his husband (i am a sucker for loving married destiel fics) has aged into this *swoons* beautiful beautiful devastatingly handsome man (his beard and the length of his hair *swoons again*) plsss

Sorry it took me an actual eternity, but here ya go! ❤️

[READ ON AO3]

The sun shining light through the curtain slots slowly pulls Dean from a very comfortable sleep, with a side of light grumbling (who the fuck decided it was a good idea to put blinds instead of blackout curtains in that goddamn room?!). The hunter reaches for the other half of the bed, only meeting emptiness and cold sheets, which makes the grumbles turn into groans. He hops on his feet then, making his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, knowing very well he’ll find him here.

“Hi,” he says lightly, his voice still rough with sleep, dropping a soft kiss right there in the hollow of his neck, where it’s warm and inviting and smells just like Cas, “Watcha doing? I woke up and you weren’t in bed with me.”

And I hated it, you know I hate waking up without you all tangled up around me like a goddamn koala, it makes me scared that maybe all of this is a dream and I’m finally waking up to an empty bed in a ghost house.

Both his arms have found their way around the former angel’s waist and are now tucked under his shirt — well, really, Dean’s shirt, but the hunter stopped keeping track of what’s his and what’s his husbands, well over a decade ago already — resting against his bare skin, and Dean tightens against Castiel’s back, even letting his eyes fall shut again as he instantly relaxes against him.

“Hey,” Cas respond with a smile, raising his head and turning just enough to get a look at his sleepy, grumpy husband, “wanted to make breakfast before we head out. There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, if you want.”

“You’re a fucking saint.”

“Well, technically…”

“Babe, I know, shut it,” Dean groans as he smiles, dropping another kiss behind Cas’ ear before he lets go of his warmth and makes his way to said fresh pot of coffee, “Thank you.”

He pours himself a cup — in that stupid one that Jack gifted him last Christmas, the one that says “My son went to Canada and all I got was this stupid coffee mug” and that Dean loves so much — and watches as Castiel finishes making scrambled eggs, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and that old faded black rock band shirt that suited Dean just fine but somehow fits tighter on Castiel’s broad shoulders and muscular body (which is truly infuriating and slightly hot, by the way).

Ten years might have passed since they defeated Chuck, and sure they might have gotten older, hair might have turned grayer, but Cas is looking just as fine as he did 10 years ago (which means he looks like a goddamn model).

Not that Dean has any complaint whatsoever, but he’s self-conscious about himself enough to know he doesn’t look as good as he used to, flat tummy turned into small pudge and love handles be damned.

“How old are you again?” Dean asks over his cup, sipping his coffee as he watches his husband turn around and put the scrambled eggs in one single plate.

“Mhm, 3.92 billion years, give or take one or two millennia,” Cas answers absent-mindedly as he proceeds to wash the pan right away, “but you know that already.”

“Ya, I do,” Dean grins as Castiel dries his hand, looking at Dean curiously.

The former angel grabs the plate and sets it in front of Dean, “eat.”

“C’mere,” Dean motions for Cas to come and sit on his lap, and suddenly his husband his right against him, Ocean blues meet Forrest green, “God, you look beautiful.”

Castiel’s hand finds its way to Dean’s face, cupping his cheek as he smiles wide, and Dean’s find their way under Cas’ shirt again, resting on his back. The silver wedding ring on the former angel’s finger attracts the sun’s light as he lowers his face to kiss his husband.

Dean had thought, back then, that at some point the feeling going with kissing his angel would fade, that it would turn into something normal, some kind of routine, but it never did.

It still tastes like the sun on his face, like he’s riding some stupid rainbow and discovering a whole new galaxy altogether.

“Happy Anniversary, babe,” Cas murmurs against his lips once they part, and Dean kisses him again right here and there, just because he can.

“I love you.”

“I know,” the former angel smiles, “I love you, too.”

It’s not like it’s as taboo as it used to be for Dean. It took him a long time to be able to say it without feeling like he might explode, and he still remembers the first time it passed his lips to land on Castiel’s ecstatic face. But there’s still this thrill going down his spine every time his husband does, this deep feeling of possessiveness, of feeling like he finally belongs. With him.

Castiel glides a finger over Dean’s scruff along his jaw, watching him closely with half a smile on his lips, “you look just like you did back then.”

“Which is?”

“Magnificent.”

His lips are on Dean’s jaw now, making their way to his temple, and Dean delights in the little shiver that goes through his body as Castiel’s lips move on his skin.

“Now you’re pushing it.”

“Beautiful. Superb. Marvelous. Do I get to keep going?” Castiel says, his voice muffled as he goes down Dean’s neck, a silent moan rising from the hunter's throat.

“Mhm, as much as I’d like to believe you, I know you’re lying.”

“I don’t lie.”

Dean rolls his eyes then, because of fucking course Castiel fucking Winchester who “doesn’t get words wrong”, doesn’t lie, except when he wants his husband to feel good.

“All the extra weight on my body and grey hair on my head and face would like to kindly disagree,” he answers with a self-deprecating smile.

“Dean,” Castiel grabs him by the chin, locking-eyes with him, “If you don’t stop bringing yourself down I’m seriously going to get mad.”

“I like it when you get mad,” Dean answers, turning his smile into a mischievous one.

Castiel fits his lips against Dean’s once more and they share a truly filthy kiss, just because they can do that now in the middle of their kitchen, in the house they’ve bought for themselves all those years ago. When they part, Dean still has that dazed look on his face as he watches his husband rise from his lap and feels him press against his back Hal a second later, lips back on his neck.

“You look beautiful to me. I don’t care if your hair turns grey, or if you gain weight, or if you need your 8 hours instead of 4, or if you fall asleep in front of Jeopardy every night. I don’t give a shit, Dean.”

Dean smiles then, Castiel’s lips kissing inside his neck, because goddamit Castiel swearing has a way of going straight to Dean’s dick.

“You’re my husband, and you look beautiful, and I love you,” he drops a soft kiss on his cheek then, both his hand roaming on Dean’s chest, and Dean can’t resist but holding on to those strong arms that still make his night feel safe after so long already, “but if you don’t think you look good, maybe we should head for our bed right now and I’ll show you how beautiful you look to me.”

“That certainly sounds exciting.”

“It does, right?”

“Not sure Sam and Eileen will be on board if we arrive 3 hours late to Charlotte’s christening though,” Dean smiles, already feeling the arousal rise.

“Bold of you to assume it’s going to take me this long to toss you into oblivion, but I also don’t give a shit.”

“Language.”

“Fuck you,” Cas giggles as Dean rises up.

They make it 20 minutes late, and neither Sam nor Eileen has the heart to call them out on it, because both of them are beaming like actual rays of sunshine, and little Charlie can’t get enough of her uncles “Ca’n’Dee”.

Send me a quick prompt and I’ll do my best

(also, if you’ve send me one already and I haven’t done it yet, it’s on my to-do lost, I’m just being terribly and fashionably late as usual)

#look at them being married and soft #married destiel #human!cas #destiel #deancas #deancas fic #deancas ficlet #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #jus writes #a tumblr prompts collection #prompts #domestic dean winchester/castiel #soft #fluff #spn #spn writing

[chaoticdean]

Forever and a day.

For week 7 — prompt: thunderstorm

Bonus point for anyone who’s able to guess where the title came from! (hint: it’s a song, and it has a lot of meaning for Dean)

Host : @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21 & @pray4jensen ♡

(I know I’m pretty late on this! I’m gonna try and pick up the pace, maybe even write for every prompts I’ve missed before!)

READ ON AO3

It’s still dark when Castiel awakes. The sun doesn’t seem to be up yet, and a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand clearly displaying 5:36am in wide red characters confirms that yes, it is early. The former angel rises from his comfortable position to sit on the bed, proceeds to rub his eyes and ruffles his hair — these are a lost cause, no matter what he does they still stick in a hundred different directions like some kind of wild party animal. He’s about to get up from his sitting posture, taking into account the way his stomach grumbles — he really should’ve eaten something last night, but he’s still getting the hang of being human again and quite frankly, this “humans got to eat at least 3 times a day crap” is a daily struggle — when an arm makes its way across his waist and roughly pulls him back against the mattress (and as it turns out, a very warm, living body). 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dean says, voice still rough with sleep, brushing his lips against Cas’s throat and peppering kisses here and there, which gets the angel’s arousal to rise instantly.

“Well, I was about to go get coffee for your sorry ass, but I guess I’ll stay now that you’ve made me your prisoner” Cas responds dramatically with a wide grin, unable to repress a deep moan when Dean decides to bite the soft skin of his neck. 

“It’s not even 6am and we’ve got nowhere else to be, so keep that tight ass of yours in bed. I don’t need coffee, I need you” the hunters says, in a way that makes Cas shiver a little. 

Dean tightens his grip around Cas’s waist, his other arm quickly wrapping around his other side, hand landing on his stomach. Cas doesn’t move (although he’s not entirely sure he could, given the way Dean is literally wrapped around him), his back pressed against Dean’s chest, his head tucked below the hunter’s, letting him have the space he needs to essentially worship Cas’s skin between his neck and shoulder. He sighs in content, closing his eyes and raising his left arm to bring Dean’s face closer, entirely giving himself up to the sensation. 

The sound of the rain quietly falling down on the bunker’s roof strengthen the cozy feeling of the room that was once Dean’s but has now been theirs for more than a year. There seems to be a storm coming, Castiel can already hear the low rumble of thunder still afar. He used to be unconcerned by weather, back when he was still an Angel of the Lord. It didn’t matter if it rained, if it was below 32°F or if the sun was shining too hard. Now is a different story, and he learned to catalog everything about the weather. He likes the sound of rain, but he also really like when the sun shines on his face while riding shotgun in the Impala after coming back from a hunt. He gets cold really fast, and he learned the hard way that his beloved trench coat wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm anymore (“who the fuck comes to freaking Minnesota with nothing else but a trench coat, you idiot” Dean had said, shaking his head in disbelief but getting his partner one of his winter jacket from the trunk that Cas had kept to this day), but he doesn’t really like when it gets too warm and he’s sweating “like a goddamn trucker after a ride through the desert” courtesy of one Dean Winchester. Sweat is a whole new feeling as well, and he despises it (except when it involves “mind-blowing sex”, as Dean calls it). He likes the rumbles of thunder, but what he loves the most is watching the lightnings fall, cozied up at the back of the Impala next to Dean. 

He never thought he could have this. 12 years of buried feelings, heartbreaks, pain and misery let him think that he would never, ever experience any of this. Yet here he is, the fallen angel, inside the arms of the man he saved from Hell years ago. 

Now his husband.

Yes, for someone who never wore a last name, Castiel Winchester does have a nice ring to it, he’ll admit.

The loud sound of thunder suddenly rips through the silence of the bunker for half a second, apparently approaching Lebanon quicker and quicker, and Castiel can feel Dean arms tighten lightly around him as the storm begins to crack around them. 

Truth be told, it still feels surreal. It’s been an actual process, from literally yelling their mutual feelings at each other’s face after dealing with yet again another “I will kill myself so that you can live” situation, to trying to make this work between them. Dancing around each other and a decade of repressed thoughts and feelings was hard enough, try throwing “how about going human again after being an Angel of the Lord for several millennia” into the mix and see how it goes.

And despite all the troubles that comes with being human — do you know how infuriating it is to remember you’ve got to pee all the damn time?! Or how humans get cold so damn easily? —, despite Castiel being a pain in everyone’s ass trying to come to grip with humanity again, Dean was there alongside him everyday. He wiped every tear, took every bad dream away, woke up at the crack of dawn just so that he could make a different breakfast for Castiel to try every single day. “We need to figure out if you’re more of a regular pancakes and bacon guy, the weirdo type who only eats Lucky Charms with milk, or a plain black coffee and white bread dude. Hell, we can even go wild and have tacos and waffles for breakfast, see how it goes” Dean had said the first morning. Castiel made him come so hard that particular morning that Sam couldn’t face any of them for 2 days after that. 

And then, there was the proposal. It came in as sort of a surprise, for Castiel first but almost for Dean as well. Getting married was the epitome of human custom by definition. Cas had never really thought about it, never really had a desire for it and certainly never expected for it to happen to him. Dean being human, the idea of marriage was almost carved into his mind and it obviously came to mind several times before, but it hadn’t for a while for quite obvious reasons — the end of the world, the self-loathing that clung to his entire soul and dripped through the creaks sometimes, the fact that he didn’t think he’d find anyone willing to spend the rest of their life with a broken up loser of a hunter, anyway he was in love with his best friend who was an angel and who certainly did not share his feelings — pick your poison. 

But that specific night, after spending a certain amount of time mapping the edges of Dean’s body with a fierce determination in the backseat of Baby, when Dean snuggled closer dropping his face into the crook of Cas’s neck and asked if he would marry him with that husky voice of his that made the former angel go crazy, he didn’t hesitate. It took Cas exactly half a second to whisper “yes” into the hunter’s ear, and that settled it. 

They had a quiet ceremony that Bobby officiated, Sam and Jack were their best men, and they were only joined by their closest friends which consisted of Eileen, Charlie, Jody, Donna and the girls (surprisingly enough, Claire was thrilled) , Garth and his family. Cas wore a navy blue suit that made his baby blue eyes look even more deep, and Dean looked like he was out of an episode of the Bachelor with his black tux, black bow-tie and white shirt. They looked perfect. It took them a grand total of 5 minutes before they shared their first kiss as a married couple. There were tears, both in the assistance and on both grooms face. It was perfect. And it looked surreal to Dean. 

But good.

Right.

Everything he asked for.

They went to Hawaii for a week on a Honeymoon, but still took Sam and Jack with them (“because they deserve a goddamn break and little umbrella cocktails as much as we do, Cas, and we owe it to them. Besides, we’ll book that honeymoon suite on the other side of the resort and they won’t have to suffer through our nights” Dean had said with a cheeky grin)

Another loud thunder sound rips through the bunker, and Cas knows that Dean’s going to feel relieved that he got Baby into the garage last night instead of leaving her outside by the door like he usually do when they get home in-between hunts. 

“You do know” Cas starts but Dean interrupts him right away by sucking on his earlobe and boy oh boy does that makes Cas’s body react, “that the walk from this room to the kitchen is roughly 20 seconds, give or take?” 

“So? What’s your damn point?” Dean adds, his mouth mapping that soft spot behind Cas’s ear that tends to make the former angel whimper

“So I can be back in, say, 3 minutes with two cups of coffee and even a slice of that cold pizza you left in the fridge yesterday” Cas manages to say before Dean gets back on attacking his throat with his lips

“You know I love it when you try and talk dirty to me, Angel, but I really don’t care about any cups of coffee or even cold pizza right now. Besides, I’m almost sure Jack chomped that pizza up last night.”

Dean’s mouth lands on his cheek as Cas turns over to face him, finally locking eyes with the hunter — his hunter, he thinks.

“What happened to the ‘I can’t function properly until I’ve got my third cup of coffee’ motto that I’ve seen you go through for the past 12 years, Winchester?”  Cas teases, his left hand cupping Dean’s face. “Was it all a lie?”

The hunter closes his eyes, pushing onto the touch, the cold feeling of the silver wedding band Castiel is wearing on his ring finger attacking his senses. 

Meanwhile, Cas gazes at his husband, realizing he hasn’t shaved in at least two weeks, and his jawline gets even more glorious with that dirty blond scruff all over it. 

Dammit, get it together, Winchester.

“Besides”, Cas adds, his lips brushing lightly against the corner of Dean’s mouth “I’m no angel anymore.”

“You’ll always be my Angel, Cas” Dean responds softly, his green eyes looking even more bright as he says the words. 

“Aww, you’re such a sap.”

“Okay” Dean grumbles, looking slightly offended but sporting a wide grin on his face, “When did you become a sassy son of a bitch, and what have you done with my husband?”

“Learned from the best” Cas chuckles, nuzzling his way along Dean’s jaw toward his ear “and Chuck was technically my father, so you’re like, halfway right on that assumption” he whispered.

“Will you shut your damn mouth and give me a kiss, for heaven’s sakes.”

Cas smiles at the use of these particular words and immediately leans closer, his lips brushing Dean’s lightly before the hunter captures his mouth with a thoroughness bordering on savagery. 

For a former angel who’s known thousands of languages, has been to many different worlds and lead Armies through (literal) hellfire, Castiel can’t find any words or feeling that could do justice to what it feels like to kiss Dean. Words won’t do justice to the rollercoaster of emotions it embodies. It feels both like the universe is exploding inside his chest, but the waves are quieter with Dean’s lips on his. 

Cas finally pulls back just enough to whisper against Dean’s lips.

“Coffee.”

“Okay, Angel. Go get that coffee. Get me that slice of cold pizza you promised” Dean answers as Cas gets up.

He’s only wearing black boxer briefs that Dean is almost sure belongs to him. His hands behind his head, he quietly watches as his husband picks up Dean’s shirt to wear — a Led Zeppelin ’73 tour black shirt that he owns since God knows when — and exit the room to the bunker’s kitchen.

“I’m so damn happy” Dean thinks to himself, and despite 4 decades of thinking he’s not allowed to feel like this, he really wants to believe that everything will be fine, they’ll be okay, they have each other and the future doesn’t look so dark anymore. 

And when Castiel comes back, 3 minutes after he’s left like he advertised before, with two cups of coffee and a plate of waffles and bacon (“Babe, Jack did eat that pizza you left in the fridge yesterday, but apparently Sam made breakfast before he left for his morning run” “it’s 6am, how the hell did that animal make breakfast and left already? How are we even related?”), Dean’s convinced he won the fucking lottery.

(If you enjoy reading this, please consider reblogging/liking, and leaving kudos on AO3!) 

#spnstayathome #monday 7: thunderstorm #I'm really late on this #but I also really love it #prompts #destiel #deancas #established Dean Winchester/Castiel #domestic Dean Winchester/Castiel #sharing a bed #bisexual dean #gay castiel #so fucking married #but like actually married #human castiel #spn #supernatural #jus writes: forever and a day #ficlet #destiel fic #fluff #romantic fluff #domestic bliss #domestic fluff #jus writes