Emotional Smorgasbord of Supernatural

well i chose 83 and i regretted it and ended up with this weird angsty thing. but at least it's finished!

cw: car accident

83. Stay there. I'm coming to get you

Cas hasn’t even been gone fifteen minutes when Dean’s phone rings.

He answers with a fond roll of his eyes. “Dude, this is why you make a list—you never remember everything.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “No, I’m not at the grocery store.”

“What?” Dean’s internal alarm bells are going off. “Where are you? Everything okay?”

“…No. No, I’m—There was an accident.” Cas is speaking in this strange, stilted way, a way he only does when he’s upset. “Someone ran a red light and hit my car.”

Dean stands up so quickly his chair clatters to the floor behind him. “What? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. They took me to the hospital, though. Can you please come?”

Dean’s already shrugging on a flannel and scrambling for the keys to one of the spare cars in the garage. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

He doesn’t remember most of the drive. All of a sudden, he’s in the emergency room parking lot, and there’s Cas, sitting out front on a bench like he wasn’t just in a car accident bad enough to send him to the hospital.

“Cas,” Dean says, the relief of seeing him whole and safe overwhelming. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“Hello, Dean.” Now that he’s human, Cas fidgets. Dean clocks the shaking of his hands as he toys with the button on his sleeve.

“Can I hug you?” Dean asks carefully. They’ve had to work on that; touch doesn’t always help Cas like it does Dean.

“I don’t know,” Cas says, and Dean can hear a note of desperation to it.

“Then can I sit down with you?”

Cas nods. Dean drops down on the bench beside him, and waits.

“I—It shouldn’t be so scary,” Cas says after a few minutes. “I’ve done worse. I’ve lived through worse. One car accident that didn’t even physically hurt me—why is it so scary?”

Dean sighs. “I don’t know. Anytime you think you might be in danger, even if you aren’t, it’s gonna be scary. I guess that’s part of life.”

“Is this how humanity will be?” Cas says. His voice breaks. “Barely dodging death around every corner? Constantly afraid?”

“It’ll get easier.” Dean says it like he’s got any idea if it actually will. “You just need time.”

Cas looks away and wipes at his eyes. Dean’s heart clenches.

“Can I hold you?” he asks again.

Cas nods this time. Dean’s barely got his arms around him before the tears begin. Cas cries and cries and cries into Dean’s shoulder, and Dean runs a gentle hand up and down his back.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Dean hopes it’s true.

wc: 1.3k summary: Dean gives Cas a little kiss and it breaks the angel

Dean didn’t get much sleep last night considering the bed felt too big and empty without his boyf—Cas. They’re still relatively new—like 35 days since their big reunion confession—and Cas was a busy guy. Once again helping Heaven get their shit in order along with Jack. So he didn’t have time to stay the night and be a fucking pillow, not that Dean would ask him.

He already takes too much of his time with stupid shit like movie night or a long drive. The world didn’t need Dean Winchester to save it anymore but it sure as fuck still needed Castiel.

Dean sighed, dragging his feet to the kitchen, and wondering when would it be a good time to send Cas a little message like, “Hiya. When are you gonna come down from that cloud of yours so I can give you a stupid ki–no.” Dean cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his growing hair feeling embarrassed as he stepped foot into the kitchen doorway.

“I came down early this morning.” Dean looked up at the kitchen table when he heard the familiar voice. Cas was warming his hands with a large mug of coffee, one that read ‘Not today Satan’ that Dean had bought as a joke while smiling softly at Dean. His coat was off, folded up on the seat next to him, and his sleeves were pushed back. He looked so…so nice.

what is love

~ angel

happy valentine’s day! this fic is my gift for the @spnvalentines gift exchange for my absolutely beautiful co-host @acklesology! ilysm jess, thank you for making this event so special!

also posted on ao3. word count: 3,664 (continued under the read more)

It had started out as something innocuous; a slip of the tongue that had Dean’s heart leaping in his chest. They’d just watched a rom-com movie together, Cas’ legs brushing against Dean’s thighs and Dean’s head resting on Cas’ shoulder.

This was still new for them. The whole ‘being together’ thing. Dean had only tentatively asked Cas for a movie night together a few weeks ago. Cas had said yes, easy and smooth as always. But it was more than that, and Dean wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words; how to express that he didn’t just want to watch a movie with Cas sitting on the other end of the couch. He wanted Cas pressed against his side, sharing popcorn and salty kisses as the movie played without either of them really paying attention because they were a little too distracted with each other.

‘Just do it, Winchester. Do it!’

“No. That’s not what I mean,” Dean had said, flickering his eyes down to Cas’ lips for far too long for it to mean anything else. “Movie night. You know? Like a-”

“Date?” Cas asked, sucking in a breath of surprise as his own gaze darted down to Dean’s lips.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed out, hope twisting with buckling fear in his chest.

Cas’ eyes squeezed shut for a second, and Dean felt the panic constrict around his lungs. Wrong move. Wrong move. Abort. Right now. Taking a step back, Dean prepared himself to bolt. But Cas was quicker. Softer. Loosening the tightness of Dean’s lungs with something liquid hot and smooth.

“Yes, please.”

Dean just about melted into the floor at the softness of Cas’ tone. “Yeah?” he asked, voice thick with unspoken desires.

“Yeah,” Cas whispered back.

Movie date night was now every other night as they explored this new territory. And it was good. Really good. The simplest allowances made Dean breathless and dizzy. Brushing his hand against Cas’. Cas tucking himself against Dean’ side. Little stolen kisses between scenes.

Each time more adventurous. More kisses, more touches, a comfortable bond that was now widening to adjust from what they were before to what they becoming now; together.

But tonight, it was a cliché rom-com movie; sappy and romantic. And maybe Cas’ fingers had been dancing along the inside of Dean’s wrist for the whole latter half of the movie, making Dean feel lightheaded with affection. He’d just meant to ask Cas a simple question. Just wanted to ask Cas for the remote that was on the other side of the couch, because Cas’ fingers were still being rather distracting against Dean’s skin.

But Dean only managed to get out the first couple words before Cas completely changed everything.

“Will you-”

“Marry you? Yes, of course,” Cas replied.

Dean stuttered to a stop, heart catapulting against his ribs. Oh God. Cas wanted to marry him? Oh. Oh.

“That… wasn’t what I was going to ask,” Dean said, breath seizing in his lungs.

But Cas was smiling at him, teasing and carefree, and Dean’s slow brain kicked back into gear as Cas’ eyes darted to the credits rolling across the screen.

Oh.

The movie. Cas was quoting the movie.

Letting out a startled chuckle, Dean nudged his shoulder against Cas’. “Ha ha, very funny,” Dean said, even though his heart was still racing; beating so loudly Dean swore Cas would be able to feel the rapid pulse in his wrist.

But now the thought was in his head. Words straight off of Cas’ lips. A bubble of an idea that was sparking in his veins. Would he marry Cas? Would he get down on one knee on the beach at sunset and propose to Cas as the waves crashed on the shore and the sky was painted in romantic pink and orange hues?

Yeah. God yeah.

He’d spend forever with Cas. Cas was it for him. There wasn’t anyone else. It was Cas. It was always Cas. He’d known that for a while now. Long before they’d started this new thing between them.

Cas was still smiling at him, bright and earnest, and Dean wanted to kiss that smile. So he did. “Idiot,” Dean mumbled affectionately, feeling Cas’ grin melt into his own.

But Dean had no idea. No idea that this was going to be the start of something that made him blissfully happy and yet yearning more than ever.

~

Hi yall!

As promised, here is the masterpost and ao3 collection for the Valentine’s/wedding anniversary drabbles I wrote from Feb 1-14! Thank you to everyone who made this lil adventure so fun! I’ve never done anything like this and it was such a special lil series to write for and to share with you all. I hope yall enjoyed this series, and if you haven’t had a chance to read them yet, i hope you’ll like them <3

The 15 chapter collection is now available on ao3!

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Day 7

Day 8

Day 9

Day 10

Day 11

Day 12

Day 13

Day 14

cannot believe i managed to snag this url! i hope yall love it as much as i do! for now, it’s time to retire the starry theme, and to start a new chapter with this angelic era. goodbye starry night, hello angels!

✨ fallingstarsdeancas (prev starrynightdeancas) >>> angelscas 🌈

Dean wakes up early on the morning of January 24th, 2022 | Rating: Mature | wc ~ 1.4k

I wrote this at 6AM, from my hotel room in the Carribeans. Frankly, Dean deserves as much for his 43.

You can choose to read this as if Dean and Cas are in Heaven, or if they own a lake house post-canon somewhere in Kansas or South Dakota. I left it open so that everyone can choose whatever they like.

Happy birthday, Dean-o. I love you forever. (So does Cas, and everyone else. They’ll be around soon.) 💙

[read on AO3]

Dean awakes to something cold pressing against his (naked) shoulder blades. He groans, but presses back into Cas’ solid weight and huffs with comfort when his angel wraps his arms around his waist, and he can feel his mop of hair tickling against the nape of his neck.

“Cas,” he groans, voice still thick-sleep.

“Mhm?” Cas answers, no doubt still halfway back into sleep already.

“I thought we said no more middle of the night wandering,” Dean says, a smile making its way to his lips when he feels Cas’ hands tightening their hold on his chest. 

A few years ago, maybe Dean would’ve been ashamed to admit it, but it’s not like he cares about what anyone thinks anymore. It’s good to be held. Particularly by Cas. 

“Special occasion,” Cas grumbles, kissing the line of Dean’s shoulder softly, his stubble scraping the skin of Dean’s back and causing goosebumps all over Dean’s skin.

“What special occasion?” Dean asks, slightly confused as he raises a hand and runs his fingers lightly through Cas’ hair, keeping him pressed against him, wanting more kisses, more caress, more everything.

And Cas does, of course he does. 

He nuzzles against Dean’s neck, kissing the soft skin there. Dean sighs, content, cared for.

“Go back to sleep, Dean,” Cas says instead of answering, as he drops another kiss behind Dean’s ear.

And Dean listens. 

It might be only minutes or several hours when he wakes up again, but Cas’ weight is gone from behind him. It’s not unusual, but still it keeps Dean awake and alert as he sits in bed, looking around for signs of his husband.

The sweatpants are gone, but the Zeppelin t-shirt he had on last night before bed is still on the floor where Dean sent it flying at some point. Dean’s about to get up and send a search rescue when he hears the third step of the stairs from their lake house crack distinctly and he smiles, looking at the door expectantly.

Barely a minute later and Cas strolls in, a tray with coffee, pancakes and bacon on it. He doesn’t even know what the occasion is, but his stomach grumbles happily at the sight as Cas stumbles inside, kicks the door closed with his feet before turning back to him with a smile. For a second Dean can’t take his eyes off him- the way the light of the early morning frames him, the mess of his hair, the solid line of his shoulder, the tattoo on his ribs, the way the blue of his eyes twinkle as they look at each other.

He has a smile on his lips when he drops the tray carefully on Dean’s bedside table, and he laughs against Dean’s lips when Dean draws him back into bed, hands holding his hips and quickly slipping under the sweatpants, cupping his (glorious) ass.

“Not that my stomach is unhappy, but what’s the occasion, sweetheart?” Dean asks as Cas grumbles happily into his mouth when Dean’s hands slip under his boxers, one hand on his ass and the other getting a hold of the hard line of his cock. “Did you get up with this? Rude, you could’ve told me.”

Cas kisses him, sucking his bottom lip greedily as Dean takes care of him, hand assured on him.

It doesn’t even take 5 minutes for Cas to be panting on top of him, Dean’s clever hand bringing him to climax quickly and efficiently. His lips peppers Dean with kisses as he gets him through his orgasm, his breath only evening when Dean lets him lie back into bed.

“Good morning,” Dean smiles, from above him then, satisfied. 

Cas surges up and takes Dean’s face into both of his hands before kissing him like there’s not tomorrow.

(Technically, there isn’t anymore, but it’s not like Dean cares.)

“Happy birthday,” Cas smiles against his mouth when he draws back just a whisker to look at him, and Dean’s breath kind of stutters, confused.

“It’s my birthday?” he asks as Cas kisses a path from his cheek to the junction of his neck, nipping at the tendon there and drawing a whimper from Dean.

“Why do you think I got up this early? I had to get eggs from Mrs Dormer to make your pancakes,” Cas grumbles, wandering hands slipping past the waistband of Dean’s black boxers.

But Dean’s too stunned to react yet. He doesn’t know why it hit him that hard this morning, how he even managed to forget that today was January 24th.

Maybe it’s the comfortable life they finally settled in, after so many years of fighting. Maybe it’s the fact that Cas is here beside him now, that he knows he doesn’t have to wake up to an empty bed and a Colt under the pillow. Maybe it’s the prospect of knowing Sam is safe, a few miles away with Eileen and their little girl.

Maybe it’s the matching silver wedding bands, sitting proudly and shiny on his and Cas’ fingers, providing enough reassurance that life is, in fact, okay. 

Or maybe, just maybe- age doesn’t matter anymore when you know you won’t be biting the dust because of the apocalypse, or God, or a Knight of Hell anymore.

So Dean allows himself to sink into the comfort of Cas’ hands again. The pancakes and coffee and bacon go slightly cold as Cas takes care of him- always with reverence, and hunger, and so much want.

Later, when they sit on the porch with the remnant of Cas’ breakfast, a thick blanket solidly wrapped around both of them, Dean watches as the sun goes up above the lake in front of the house. Cas worms his face into his neck, solidly wrapped around him, going for another nap.

Dean lets him. They have enough for a lifetime.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers into the crook of Dean’s neck, the warmth of his breath against the skin tickling Dean, making him squeeze Cas closer against him. “I love you.”

Dean’s breath hitches. It’s not that he’s not used to it by now- hell, they’ve been married for months, they’ve said way more sappy shit to each other by now than these simple three little words.

But there’s a different weight on these words on January 24th. There’s a different tone to Cas’ voice as he says it, as he brushes his lips in a barely there kiss under Dean’s jaw before happily going back to sleep right there, secured in Dean’s arms and under the blanket Sam and Eileen got them for Christmas.

There’s love, but there’s security, and life ahead.

Dean used to wake up on January 24th wondering if he’d be alive to see his next birthday.

This morning, as he watches the line of the sun following it’s route as it rises, Dean thinks that 43 looks pretty good, just like the road ahead.

“I love you too, Cas,” he whispers into Cas’ ear, brushing a kiss on Cas’ temple as he goes. “Thank you for breakfast, babe.”

“You deserve the world,” Cas answers, voice all gravel and honey, no doubt already half back into a sleepy haze.

Dean chuckles, keeping his lips pressed against Cas’ forehead.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low, more for himself than anyone else.

A long time ago, in a barn in Illinois, an angel told him that good things did happen. He didn’t believe him then, too busy fighting the good fight between Good and Evil.

It took him time to believe him, years. 

Much later, when the Sun will almost be down behind the line of the mountains, everyone will be around. Sam and Eileen will be there first, little Charlie on their hip. Jack should be here around the same time, probably with Jody and Donna, tightly clasped between Claire and Kaia. Dean’s probably forgetting a dozen, but the house will be filled with laughter and clinking beers, and love.

So much love.

But as said Angel stumbles back into sleep, as Dean watches the Sun shine above the lake and reflect into the water, as Cas’ hand rests above his heart, wedding ring cold where it presses against Dean’ naked skin… Dean thinks back to the barn in Illinois, to Cas’ stance as he said “good things happen, Dean”. 

And this morning, well.

This morning, Dean believes.

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