Omega Cas where Dean and Cas are in a business meeting and Cas starts to go into heat. But he holds it down until they get home and after sex they curl up on the couch and cuddle while dean tells Cas how good he is for holding his heat
I /kinda/ did it⊠I mean, itâs definitely omegaCas going into heat and theyâre in a meeting and Alpha Dean telling him how good he did and they cuddle; but, I will admit the order is a little⊠jumbled???  A New Chapter, which is the name for this oneshot, is up for your viewing pleasure, tell me what you think!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
[A/N: It's snowing outside the UniLibrary Window so... Destiel ficlet it is!]
Cas stared out the window. Â It was almost sad. Â The world had slowed, shut down, paused. Â People weren't walking around. Â People weren't hustling and bustling. Â It was like humanity was completely silent.
It was somewhat endearing and somewhat scary. Â Humanity doesn't usually get quiet; someone hurts, someone cries. Â Perhaps, somewhere else someone was hurting or someone was crying. Â Perhaps; somewhere someone needed help. Â Perhaps, the snow was dully Cas' perceptions too.
"Hey? Â You good?" Dean walked over and stood next to Cas, sipping something that smelled like strong coffee from a small foam cup.
Cas looked over to Dean to study his face. Â Dean was relaxed. Â It was even more eerie to see Dean Winchester, of all people, slow down and take note. Â The snow had a calming effect on even the best hunters. Â "I am..." Â He was what exactly? Â Happy? Content?
Shifting slightly and purposefully nudging his arm into Cas', Dean sighed. Â "I know what you mean."
"How? I don't even know what I mean?" Â Cas racked his new found humaness; the creepy-crawly feeling of emotion and senses that was filling the spaces between his broken grace. "I don't understand."
Dean set his coffee on the window pane and moved behind Cas. Â He wrapped his arms around Cas' waist and tucked his chin on Cas' shoulder. Â "Snow does that. Â It falls and falls; it doesn't have purpose. Â It just falls; but, it happens to be beautiful."
Nodding, Cas picked up Dean's coffee and took a sip. Â His taste buds, becoming ever more human, jump at the taste; Cas isn't sure if he likes it or not. Â "I think I get it." Â He watched the snow come down and held the cup. Â He was content in the silence, content in this human thing.
Dean owned a small bake shop. Â It wasnât big and it wasnât fancy; but, he sold good muffins and brewed decent coffee. Â He silently complained and judged people who murder his coffee with sweeteners and flavorings. Â The worst offender, the guy who owned the bookshop next door, Gabriel Novak.
The guy took over the small bookshop when his oldman died and couldnât keep it up anymore. Â It came time to move his mother to some place where one of his many siblings takes care of her. Â He sauntered in and began to make his coffee; he sent Dean a smirk over his shoulder. Â âYo, Iâm gonna be gone for a bit. You wanna help a guy out and watch my shop?â
Rubbing at the counter with a soapy sponge, Dean glared. Â âNot particularly.â
"Didnât think so, thatâs why I called out my little brother to watch it for me." Â He dumped in french vanilla creamers and milk to his poor excuse for coffee.
Blinking and grimacing, Dean shook his head lightly. Â âThen why did you ask.â
Gabriel smirked wider before leaving.
Dean rolled his eyes. Â âCryptic bastard.â
â-
Gabrielâs brother hadnât been into the bake shop, not that Dean was complaining since Gabe had never actually paid for any of his daily coffees. Â Deanâs days were nice but they were missing their usual dose of douchebaggery; so, Dean invited Sam over to help him move the big bags of flour from the back of his truck to the pantry.
"You did not need my help." Â Sam lifted one of the bags onto his shoulder. Â He walked it into the store and came back out in time to get the next one that Dean had moved to the back of the car. Â "You could have moved these yourself." Â He repeated the process and came out the next time with a bitchface perched on his expression. Â "You were lonely." Â Sam ducked back into the store.
"Was not!" Â Dean shifted the last 30Â lb. bag of flour to the back of the truck, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and balanced it haphazard while he closed the hatch. Â He went through the door, closing it behind him, and hefted the last bag of flour onto the pile with the rest. Â
Sam was picking through some cupcakes that Dean had been letting cool.Â
"Hey, leave those alone unless you plan to pay for it." Â Dean straightened some of the items on the pantry shelf before turning to see Sam chewing. Â "Really?"
Nodding, Sam turned on his killer puppydog eyes. Â âTheyâre almost as good as mumâs.â
"Then go eat hers and leave mine to the paying customers." Â Dean moved forward to pickup the tray and take it to where he had the bakery set up for frosting. Â
Sam nicked another one, taking a large bite.
"Dude, stop." Â Dean began to frost the first one only to turn and see Sam eating another and wincing. Â Dean turned and crossed his arms, sinking a hip down and into the counterâs edge. Â "Really?!?"
Sam had the decency to look ashamed. Â âTheyâre addicting Dean.â Â He began to reach for another one.
Smacking his hand away, Dean began to question his idea to invite his brother to the shop. Â When Sam reached again, Dean launched a full assault. Â âStop eating my merchandise.â
Sam struggled to get to the cupcakes. Â âI wouldnât say that so loud if I were you.â
Dean doubled his efforts. Â They pushed and shoved and kicked, mostly with good nature. Â But, as always, everythingâs fun and fulfillingly violent until someone gets hurt. Â Dean loses his grip on Samâs shoulder and careened forward into a wall. Â His hand, curled in a fist, made first impact and ultimately went through the wall.
His arm up to his shoulder was through the wall behind his industrial style mixer. Â âYouâll pay for this.â Â Dean turned to his brother and almost growled. Â âAnd all of the cupcakes youâve eaten.â
Sam looked like a moose caught in the headlights with another cupcake in his hand.
"Are you stuck?" Â A voice sounded from the other side of the wall.
Dean startled and began to pull his arm out. Â âNah, just upset with my brother.â Â Once he was free of the plaster, Dean looked through the decent hole in the wall to see a vibrant pair of blue eyes.
The blue-eyed man replied. Â âI know the feeling.â
â-
Dean was baking a cake when he heard it. Â
"Dude, you know I didnât do that." Â "I know you did, I saw you with the soda and told you to be careful." "I donât know what youâre on but I donât owe you shit." "You ruined 4 books and you have to pay for them."
Backing away from the stainless steel table in the center of his bakeryâs kitchen, Dean found himself staring at the calender that he had moved to cover up the hole in his wall. Â It was bad enough that he had a hole in the wall; but, it was in the wall he shared with Gabriel. Â Gabriel was going to blow a gasket when he got back from dealing with his motherâs move.
"Sir, you break it, you buy it."
"I didnât break shit."
Dean rolled his eyes. Â He wasnât sure why he did it; but, he unhooked the calender and leaned into the hole. Â âThis store has FutureTECH security systems; pay the store owner and leave the premises.â
The punk yelped and pulled out money to slap on the counter. Â Dean felt inproportionately proud.
The paper on the other side of the hole moved and Blue Eyes - Cas, his name is Cas - appeared. Â âYou lied.â
Shrugging, Dean wrung his hands. Â âHe and his friends have been harassing Gabe for a while now; it was the least I could do.â
The man on the other side gave curt nod and the corners of his lips twitched upward.  âThank you.â  Cas took a deep breath.  âIâm sorry, but what have I been smelling all  morning that smells like heaven in pastry form?â
Dean glanced around his kitchen quickly. âChocolate cake?â
Shaking his head, Cas sniffed the air again. Â âSomething fruity and spicy.â
Biting his lip in thought, Dean took a longer sweeping look of his kitchen. Â He caught sight of the bottom portion of one of his 3 double ovens lit up. Â He snapped his fingers. Â âIâm making a pie.â
"That must be it." Â
Dean turned back to see Cas licking his lips. Â He was caught momentarily off guard by the little movement.
"I may finally go over there and check out the place if I can buy some of the fucking delicious-smelling pie." Â Casâs lips twitched again and his cheeks were flushed.
Nodding, Dean may have blushed a little in return. Â Casâ face disappeared and Dean heard the little tinkle that meant the door to the book shop opened. Â He rushed around to pull the pie out from the warming oven. Â And if he didnât mention that the pie had been for dinner at his motherâs that night; no one needed to know.
â-
Dean came in from a long weekend to find that one of the steam pipes in the kitchen had busted and made the wall damp. Â He should have know because he could smell the mold that was no doubt there but hidden. Â Dean sighed and turned to go back out into the large outer part of the bakery and turn the open sign over to closed. Â He would have to deal with this first.
He was happy that it was one of the walls that the previous landowner had superficially added to splint the large space into two smaller spaces; otherwise he would have to do more research before he could start cutting and fixing.
He kept a few tools in his car and he had a toolbox in the shop for the minor fixes in the heavy baking machinery. Â Dean almost laughed at the irony in that statement. Â He started by outlining the damp wall and then began to cut it out with the sawzall. Â It wasnât bad.
Belatedly, he realized that he probably needed to check what was on the other side of the wall. Â He moved the calender out of the way and tried to see the other side of the wall from there. Â When that only frustrated him and filled his nostrils with an intense smell of mold, he backed away, sniffed at a small jar of vanilla that had been left out, and moved to the door to go into the bookstore through the other entrance.
He stood at the front door and tried at the handle. Â The door didnât open despite that the hours posted were in session. Â He tried again. Â He banged on the door. Â He knew that Gabriel got the half of the space that included the stairs to the apartment upstairs. Â He had learned with Gabriel had a leak in his his bathroom and Dean had found it on the floor in his pantry.
A groggy version of Cas appeared in pajama pants, a coffee stained t-shirt, and bedhead. Â Dean tried to gather control of his extremities and managed with varying amounts of success; his mouth watered more than it should but his dick remained pliant. Â He opened the door. Â âWhat?â
Suddenly, Dean felt really awkward. Â âHey, Cas, late start?â
Cas shrugged. Â âActually, early. Â I didnât go to sleep last night; Iâve been reading in bed all night. Â I just want to sleep today away.â
Looking Cas up and down, Dean couldnât have guessed that the guy was one of the read-through-the-night types; but, that may present itself pretty well in se- Donât go there, Winchester! Â Dean swallowed. Â âUh, one of the pipes in my kitchen busted. Â I was going to just remove the wall and had even started, then I realized I should probably check whatâs on the other side of said wall.â
Nodding, Cas looked toward the reading nook that was situated next to the cash register. Â There was a poster of some random stack of old books and an artful quote. Â It seemed out of place. Â
Dean realized that it must cover the hole he put in the wall. Â Dean rubbed the back of his neck. Â âUh, yeah, coincidentally, itâs right next to the hole that I already put int he wall.â
Shooting a look filled with surprise and skepticism, Cas smacked his lips and waved him in.
Deanâs day then took a turn upward because Casâ butt looked awesome in his sleep pants and Dean got to follow him to the wall. Â Dean moved things under Casâ instruction and waved Cas back to wherever he was sleeping. Â âIâve got this. Â You go sleep off your book-hangover.â
Smiling wider than usually, Casâ eyes wrinkled affectionately at the edges. Â âThank you.â
Dean was able to cut out the piece of wall; the pipe had done more damage than he had first thought and they ended up with a large irregular piece of wall missing. Â No longer did they have a small window connecting their shops; now, there was a hole big enough to walk through two abreast if one person ducked a little - and if that person were Sam they ducked a lot.
â-
Almost six months after Cas and Gabe had switched places, about 3 weeks since the water damage to the wall had occurred, Dean finally got up the nerve to ask how long Gabe was going to be gone.
"Oh, thatâs right." Cas was ringing someone up at the register in his store. Â People that came into either of their stores had asked about the odd âarchwayâ. Â Deanâs archway was in the kitchen part separated from the rest of his bakery by half walls except of the closet-like pantry. Â From Casâ store it looked more inviting, nestled into a reading nook. Â Dean was constantly shooing meandering bookies out of his kitchen. Â Neither could complain about the jump in business though.
Cas handed the money over to the woman and turned to Dean. Â âHe met up with an old flame, extended his stay.â
Dean nodded and turned back to his batter. Â âOh, okay.â
"You trying to get rid of me?"
Dean turned to say something witty in return but was stopped by Casâ proximity. Â Casâ face was blank; but, Dean had learned not to trust that. Â âNo.â
Cas leaned away. Â âGood.â Â Cas smirked and turned to walk back to his shop. Â he swayed his hips when he walked and Dean couldnât help but admire the view. Â There was something between them. Â Castiel was a lot like Gabe but uniquely different in all the right ways. Â Gabriel had been grating doing the same things that Cas does that are endearing. Â
Inopportune timing aside, Dean turned to see his mother shooting a skeptical yet lewd look. Â He rolled his eyes and approached the counter that served as the boundary between his customers and his cooking. Â âWhat do you want, Ma?â He hissed.
She smirked. Â âI was picked to get the cake for a birthday at work. Â When they found out my son was a baker they decided it was part of my job description.â Â She laughed.
Dean followed suit.
His mother leaned close and made a short aside. Â âI do hope that he is part of your job description soon.â
"Ma!" Â Dean flushed.
â-
Dean arrived on Saturday like he and Cas had discussed the week before. Â They were going to finish with the wall. Â At first, Dean had been worried that Cas was suggesting to board it up; but, he had been mistaken. Â
Dean smiled when he saw Cas there in a dark t-shirt and tattered jeans. Â Cas opened up with a gummy smile, Â The more they interacted the more Casâ face betrayed emotion. Â It was an enjoyable transformation to witness.
Firsthand, Dean learned that Cas was just as lewd and innuendo-driven as his brother Gabe; but, he was calmer about it and moved his eyebrows around a lot less. Â He blushed prettily when he was flustered and startled if Dean managed to sneak up on him when he was immersed in a good book. Â
"You ready to make this something that will make Gabriel furious?" Â Dean smiled knowing that Cas liked pissing his brother off just as much as Dean did.
Cas put on a pair of stylized safety glasses and grinned. Â âHell yeah.â
He and Dean worked the entire morning moving books and bookshelves away from the wall, hacking more of the superficial wall down, and pushing Deanâs heavy counter-blocks around until the âarchwayâ connected to Deanâs customer area instead of his kitchen area.
At lunch the job was mostly complete. Â Dean had to sweep and dust so he could make food in what only a few minutes ago was a construction zone. Â
Cas hopped up on the counter next to where Dean was preparing sandwiches. Â He shifted around and ended up nudging Dean with his knee. Â Dean ignored it. Â When it happened again, Dean realized it wasnât a mistake but a planned gesture. Â He turned to Cas. Â âWhat? Â I know youâre hungry; thatâs why I making sandwiches.â Â Dean smiled.
Looking him over, Cas didnât smile back. Â Dean became uneasy; his movements with the sandwich fixings slowed to a stop and he found himself looking into Casâ eyes.
Cas shifted slightly then thought better of it. Â âTell me that Iâm reading this wrong.â
Eyebrows pulled together in confusion, Dean tried to piece it together. Â âWhat?â
Shifting, pushing the plates further down the counter and moving in such a way that Dean was between his legs, Cas spoke again, âTell me Iâm reading this wrong.â
Deanâs face heated up; his tongue and gut heated up. Â His crotch heated up. Â Dean leaned forward into Casâ body. Â âI know better than to tell a profession reader and bookstore owner that heâs âreading something wrongâ.â
Surging forward, Cas pulled Dean into him, lunch forgotten. Â
[A/N: HAPPY VDAY YOUS GUYS! Â BAKERY/BOOKSTORE AU FOR THE WIN!!!]
Sam had been nonstop complaining about Casâ newest hobby, knitting. He didnât want to wear the sweaters; the socks were too tight at the toes. Mid-sentence Sam paused; he shifted how he was sitting at the small table in the kitchen, looking Dean up and down, cataloging the Cas-made sweater he was wearing. âDude, how can you stand it?âÂ
Shrugging, Dean kept,working on the pasta casserole. He wasnât as exotic as when they were younger, sans marshmallows or curry powder or Chex Mix. Dean swallowed; it was nice not to have to worry about shit.Â
Huffing and flipping his hair dramatically, Sam rolled his eyes. âI mean, itâs great that heâs doing something with his time that isnât moping around, but⊠This is a bit obsessive.â He gestured to the potholders that Cas had knitted; Dean had put tacks into the wall so they could hang in the bunkerâs kitchen.Â
Dean shrugged again.Â
"I know you have an opinion on this." Sam crossed his arms over his chest and bitchfaced in Deanâs direction.Â
Placing his hands on the counter, locking his elbows, and sinking his shoulders down, Dean hung his head low. âLook,â he brought his gaze up to look at Sam dead in the face, âHe wanted to know why I donât wear jackets even when it gets cold in here. I told him that leather jackets remind me of Dad, mechanicâs jackets remind me of Bobby, and long coats remind me of the time that he was dead.â Dean peaked toward the door to the kitchen. âYeah, heâs a bit obsessive; but, weâre Winchesters.â Dean threw his hands lazily but emphatically in the air. âWinchesters have a tendency to be obsessive.â
Silence permeated the room and Dean continued to mix and pour sauce on the pasta. He grimaced but added some broccoli and cauliflower; he wasnât as young as he used to be but that didnât mean that he wouldnât try to hide their flavor in tomato sauce.Â
Samâs smirk began to fill the void in the conversation. âDid you just show some real feelin-?âÂ
"Hey!" Moving jerkily, Dean snapped his head up to glare at Sam and pointed menacingly. Samâs eyes trailed to Deanâs wedding ring in a pointed look.
Dean continued, âI am allowed to have emotions about my damn husband; now, stop complaining and either help me or get out of my kitchen!â