#chocolatecakecas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinknatural · 3 months

Text

After googling “what to take to a stranger’s birthday party” and reading the top five articles thoroughly, the first two more than once, Castiel has determined that he should either bring candles, wine, or baked goods.

A candle seems like a good, safe option, but the Walmart candle aisle is overwhelming. How is he supposed to know if Anna’s-friend-Dean likes oaky, woodsy smells versus lavender-linen smells? Castiel likes the one that smells like a waxy apple pie, but who’s to say that opinion is shared? What if he prefers pine, or something called Deep Twilight Mist? Castiel removes the lid for Deep Twilight Mist and smells the cream-colored wax curiously. It smells like the perfume Hael used to spray everywhere when she was eleven. He puts it back on the shelf.

There’s a candle that smells like cupcakes. It is a birthday party, so perhaps he would like that. Castiel puts it in the blue plastic basket dangling from his arm, then puts it back on the shelf, tilting it so the label is facing perfectly outward. Maybe Anna’s-friend-Dean doesn’t like candles at all.

Wine. Everyone likes wine. Well, unless Anna’s-friend-Dean is one of those guys who thinks wine is too feminine. Or if he doesn’t drink at all. Or if he drinks too much. Or, perhaps even worse, if he’s some kind of wine connoisseur and will mock Castiel for buying reasonably-priced wine from Walmart and then blacklist Castiel so thoroughly that he will never find a friend in this town.

Wine and candles are too complex. But everyone likes baked goods.

Castiel is stopped in the middle of the road, turn signal blinking to indicate that he would like to turn left into his apartment complex, when he realizes that Anna’s-friend-Dean could be diabetic. But the party is at a restaurant that specializes in hamburgers, so probably not. Hopefully not. All Castiel has to do is successfully implement chocolate chip cookies and then melt into the walls at the party. Be pleasant enough company that next time someone has a large event they allow Anna to invite him again. Go to enough social functions that he can claim to have friends and get Anna off his back. Live quietly, working at the Gas-N-Sip and writing papers about the science of Theology and perhaps even going to the library and reading secular fiction.

Castiel has no expectations of finding actual friendship at Anna’s-friend-Dean’s birthday party. Or ever, really. If he ever gets lonely, he can get a cat.

Anna thinks that Castiel and Dean will get along very well. Castiel thinks that living outside of their mother’s influence has made Anna believe in fairytales. Anna has known Castiel his entire life. She knows full well that he has never gotten along very well with anyone.

Castiel cracks an egg over the batter. Maybe this whole baking thing will impress Anna so much that she’ll stop bothering him about making friends.

Who knows, maybe these cookies will unlock something else to add to Castiel’s quiet life. He quite likes the idea of baking.

The firefighter is very beautiful. Maybe even the most beautiful person Castiel has ever seen, besides models on the sides of buildings who look so perfect they’re fake.

“You the guy who started the fire?” the beautiful firefighter asks. He puts his hands in his pockets. Castiel’s cheeks burn. Not from any fire.

“They were just burnt cookies,” he says. “I didn’t know they would set off the smoke alarm.” In the entire building. The other firefighters are by the doors, writing things down, talking to other residents of Castiel’s building. How come the beautiful firefighter was the one who had to talk to Castiel? He sneaks a peek at the man’s arms, but they’re sadly covered by his coat.

“You burned the cookies on purpose, then?” the firefighter raises an eyebrow.

“Of course I didn’t,” Castiel says. The firefighter has green eyes and freckles splashed across his nose. Castiel wants him to take off his helmet so he can see what his hair looks like.

“Right,” the firefighter says.

“Am I in trouble?” Castiel asks.

“No,” the firefighter says. He winks. Castiel feels his heart literally skip a beat. “Not a crime to burn cookies. Losing out on the cookies is punishment enough.”

“They weren’t for me,” Castiel says. “They were for a birthday party. Tonight.” For some reason, he wants the firefighter to know that he has a social life. Never mind if the social life was enforced upon him by his older sister.

“A birthday party? Today? Who’s hosting? I gotta fight for my honor.”

Castiel is baffled. What honor? What fight?

“What?”

“Everyone will come,” the firefighter says. He makes a pose, as if he’s flexing. “To see me and this other guy fight to see who’s the Supreme Birthday Boy.” He stretches one arm out, pointing it to the sky, then he opens his fist. “Pow! It’ll be me, of course.” He turns to look back at Castiel. His mouth is very pink. Castiel wishes he understood what words were coming out of it.

“It’s my birthday, too,” the firefighter says after a moment, when Castiel doesn’t react.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I dunno. Trying to be funny, I guess.”

“Oh,” Castiel says again. Behind the firefighter, he sees that the other residents of his apartment building are filing back inside. For some reason, despite the January chill, Castiel doesn’t want to go back in. Not yet.

“You know, usually this is the part where people say happy birthday,” the firefighter says.

“Happy birthday,” Castiel repeats.

“Thanks!” the firefighter beams. “So do you think I should crash your friend’s party tonight?”

“No,” Castiel says, alarmed at the thought. A firefighter, and probably a bunch of other firefighters, crashing Castiel’s opportunity to stand beside the wall, holding a cup of sprite? When Castiel shows up with store-bought baked goods? And this beautiful firefighter will point right at him and say that Castiel invited them and then Anna’s-friend-Dean will hate him forever, and probably Anna will too? “Also, he’s not my friend.”

“He’s not? Then why are you going to his party?”

“He’s my sister’s friend,” Castiel explains. “I’ve never met him. She thinks I need to leave the house more.” Too late, Castiel remembers that he was supposed to pretend he had a flourishing social life. Oops.

“Wait,” the firefighter says. His eyes sparkle. “Are you Anna’s brother? Cas-something?”

“Castiel,” he says, with the patience of someone who has had to explain his name a million times. He narrows his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Dude,” the firefighter says, laughing. “I’m Dean.”

Anna’s-friend-Dean is a beautiful firefighter, with green eyes and freckles? Anna’s-friend-Dean is the Supreme Birthday Boy? Anna’s-friend-Dean probably has very muscular arms, under his uniform?

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the firefighter says.

“Winchester! Wrap it up!” one of the firemen calls from the truck. Castiel realizes that all the firefighters are about to leave, and everyone from his building is already back inside. When did that happen?

“Be there in a minute!” Dean hollers over his shoulder. When he looks back at Castiel, he grins almost shyly. “You were gonna make me cookies?”

“Yes, I--I thought it would be an appropriate thing to bring.” Castiel wonders again if Dean could be diabetic. Or perhaps allergic to something in chocolate chip cookies. Are chocolate chips made in a peanut-free facility? Maybe Castiel should’ve bought wine, after all.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was dead-fuckin’-on. But, uh.”

“But?” Castiel is sure, suddenly, that Dean is about to reject him and tell him not to come to his birthday party after all. Which would be a shame, because all of a sudden Castiel wanted to go.

“My favorite dessert is pie,” Dean says like a confession.

“Oh,” Castiel says, eyes widening. Maybe he can swing by the bakery--maybe he can look up a bakery, and then swing by it--on the way to the party. Assuming he’s still going.

“And, uh, not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean one. I actually made myself a birthday pie, and I was gonna eat it alone, but maybe…I mean…”

“Yes?” Castiel asks. Dean is slightly taller than him, so he tilts his head back to meet his eyes. Dean swallows. Castiel watches his adam’s apple bob.

“Well, I could swing by after my shift is done,” Dean says. “Bring it with me. We could share. Before we go to the Roadhouse, I mean. If you want.”

“I want,” Castiel says before he can think about it. He snaps his mouth shut. Dean brightens.

“Great,” he says. “I’ll be back. After my shift.”

“When does it end?” Castiel asks. Dean looks at his watch. He grins at Castiel, tongue poking between his teeth.

“Twenty minutes,” he says.

“Okay,” Castiel says. “I will you soon, then.”

“Yep,” Dean says. “Gimme about an hour, okay? And then we’ll have pie.”

“Okay,” Castiel says. Dean turns to head back to the firetruck. “What kind of pie?” Cas calls after him. Dean turns.

“Apple!” he calls. Castiel stands outside, in the January chill without his coat, for a long while after the truck leaves. What a strange man, making his own birthday pie. What a lovely man, sharing it with a stranger. Supreme Birthday Boy, indeed.

When Dean returns, in a soft flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up, revealing his magnificent forearms, his hair a spiky mess that Castiel wants to run his fingers through, he has, as promised, an apple pie. And Castiel has a present for him.

When Dean opens it, he laughs until he almost cries. He lights it right away, and the lingering aroma of burnt chocolate chip cookies is chased away by the apple pie candle from Walmart, a bright, steady little flame flickering between them.

(ao3)

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #writingtag #deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #changed my mind posting this now. whatever

768 notes · View notes

pycobutterpie · 3 months

Text

Stranger in my kitchen

Summary: Dean goes full to protective dad mode, as he sees a stranger in his kitchen touching his daughter.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: firing a gun in front of a baby

Word Count: 1392

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please don't judge me for using a translator for this original text. I wrote it together with my friend Minnie who has added the part of Lu and Y/N. We are so exited to add something to this beautiful community of writing for dean. Also this is my first fanfic ever published outside my inner circle of writing friends. (In our story it also became true, that Dean is Bens real father. And Bobby never died. ;) )

[Y/N's POV] It was actually a normal day at the Winchesters' house. Dean had been on a hunt with Bobby and should be home soon. Ben was still sleeping his bed upstairs. The two dogs were running around in the garden and also needed a little time to themselves… Baby Cassidy was already awake with her mother Y/N. Cassy was in damn good hands and was currently sitting in a little baby bouncer on the kitchen counter and Y/N was clearing out the dishwasher. But they weren't alone. On one of the bar stools sat a man, not much older than Y/N and Dean, in a smart dark blue suit and white shirt that wasn't completely buttoned up. In his hand was a steaming cup of coffee and on his hand was a ring with a black rectangular stone in it. With the other hand, he nudged Cassy's bouncer and smirked at her. Y/N had just tied her hair up in a bun and was wearing just a top and hot pants as she crouched behind the counter at the dishwasher. Cassy started laughing and just babbled to herself.

[Dean's POV] Hunting. An activity in which Dean felt completely free and could rely entirely on his instincts. It was what he had learned, what he was born for. Making the world a better place, saving lives. The family business.

For once, it wasn't about changing diapers or talking to stuffy principals. No, Wendigos didn't talk and Dean understands Bobby without words. So the men had chased the thing in the nearby St. Jeffreys mine for a few hours and finally sent it to purgatory. It was life like before the unexpected baby happiness. The hunt had been all about instinct, speed and accuracy. That was what Dean had been living for the last few hours.

And that was what he needed now, when he saw a strange man sitting at his kitchen table, holding out his hand for his Cassidy. The strange man was wearing a suit. He was sitting with his back to the doorway through which the hunter had just stepped. An advantage, if only for a split second.

And the pistol was already in Dean's hand, loaded with silver bullets, aimed at the stranger's back.

Dean pulled the trigger immediately.

There were no thoughts clouding his mind. No details that he noticed. Shoot first, ask questions later. That had always been the motto. At least that of John and Dean Winchester. The bullet that Dean hoped would save his daughter went off with a loud bang. Then his gaze was diverted by a person appearing from behind the counter. It was Y/N, who Dean's subconscious had classified as missing before. That's why he hadn't hesitated for a moment to shoot the stranger. Because nobody was allowed to get too close to his little Cassy. No one.

If you had time to look at Dean, you'd see a serious guy with soot and dust on his face, trousers and jacket. A bloody scratch adorned his left cheek, his knuckles were cracked and his palms were scraped open.

[Y/N's POV] Y/N hadn't given any thought at all to the fact that her cousin Lu had announced himself. Twenty minutes before his arrival. Of course, that was typical of him, as always. If he announces himself at all. But she was a good hostess after all, offering her visitor a coffee immediatly. And although he wasn't purely human, she knew he posed no danger whatsoever. Not to Ben, not to her, let alone to Cassy. She had even asked him to help her with some of her research into Cassy's powers and how to secure certain parts of them. But nonetheless, she knew Dean would be back later today. But she just figured the situation could be resolved with a simple round of introductions. But that wasn't the case. Dean came in in the manner of his father and started shooting at everything he didn't know and couldn't categorize. Great…

But Lu was quicker. He had already heard the footsteps crunching on the smooth tiled floor. Because Dean's shoes didn't look particularly clean from the hunt in the forest and so he also heard the safety catch on the gun and then automatically raised his hand towards Dean and the bullet made it out of the barrel of the gun but fell to the floor just before it hit his suit.

Y/N screamed briefly and slapped her hand over her mouth, but then saw how battered Dean looked… "Baby! What happened?" She had also dropped a cup that she had just taken out of the dishwasher and then immediately ran over to Dean, took the gun out of his hand and stuck it securely in the back of her waistband.

Lu had stood up in the meantime and straightened the front of his Armani suit and then looked over at Cassy again and stroked her lightly over her small hand. "Well, it looks like your daddy in a damn bad mood…" He looked to Dean with a grin now, being slightly provocative of course… But that was just the way he was. Otherwise, he was a kind-hearted person, if you could call him that…

[Dean's POV] Dean lips twitched in anger as the guy stopped the bullet just like nothing. That wasn't human. Something like that shouldn't be in this house. Briefly, he froze slightly as Y/N took the gun away from him and remained totally calm. She even seemed taken aback by Dean's reaction. Only slowly did he realize that she could also have an insurance agent visiting or someone from the youth welfare office. But that was out of the question, because the man was totally unimpressed by the fact that he had almost been shot.

What was wrong with the guy and his mocking grin? Dean looked at Y/N in amazement, because she must have guessed what had happened. He almost nagged at her: "A strange, supernatural guy is trying to touch my daughter. This maybe?" Long slimy fingers trying to hurt a cute baby. But not in Dean's kitchen!

Quickly, the hunter rushed to Cassidy and picked her up from the rocker to his dirty arms. The comforting smell of fresh baby skin and diapers came into his mind and grounded him a little. The little girl didn't quite know whether to be happy or cry and looked a little frightened.

Dean turned his child away from the stranger so that he couldn't touch her again. The protective father turned threateningly to the suit guy: "Get your paws off her or you'll have mine in your face!" He would love to deform that polished face a little, given the stranger's audacity. Dean protectively placed a hand on Cassy's head. Only Y/N's light-heartedness kept the hunter halfway to the ground. Eagle-eyed, he tried to spot something about his girlfriend. Some strange behavior. Was she under a spell? "So, what's this, huh?" he asked, still growling slightly.

[Y/N's POV] Lu stood there grinning, his hands buried in his pants pockets by now and leaning against the counter in the kitchen, really very relaxed and not at all intimidated. He then picked up his coffee cup, spread his little finger and simply watched the spectacle that was unfolding between the two of them. As panicked, angry and heroic as Dean was acting, it really amused the cousin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but then realized that she should have warned Dean that Lu was coming over. She ran a hand through her hair and then said, "Dean…please… If there's someone in this house, I let them in here, otherwise Evangeline and Bones would have struck. And I told you about my cousin Lu from Vegas back then, didn't I? May I introduce…my cousin Lu from Vegas…yes, Lu is not human. He's a warlock. And yes, I invited him here to think about this magical barrier for Cassy's powers and to talk to him. But that won't work if you just shoot him. He's my biological cousin and I hope we've settled the issue now!", she said with a sigh. "Lu? This is Dean… My fiancé and father of my daughter. He's not usually that pissed off. But with Cassy, he sees red… And he has an aversion to strange men in suits…"

#happy birthday dean winchester #deansbirthdaybash #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #angry dean winchester #protectiv dean winchester #dad!dean winchester #dean winchester x daughter #chocolatecakecas

39 notes · View notes

iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

Text

All That Matters

Genre: angst / romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: A few swears, mentions of torture, injuries, starvation and malnourishment

Written for: Dean’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Rodeo posted by @chocolatecakecas

SPN Masterlist

I’m back again as how could I not try and write something for this beautiful man’s birthday. It’s probably a bit more depressing than I intended but at least it’s happier at the end, promise! I’m a sucker for Protective!Dean 💕

It was 4am and you couldn’t stop pacing. You’d been at it for hours, back and forth across your room, practically carving a path in the unforgiving, cold concrete floor as your anxiety continued to bubble up inside you.

In your head a furious debate continued to rage as you take another glance at the door. You shake out your hands and screw your eyes shut as you desperately try to calm your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. You know in your heart where you long to be. There’s only one damn place you feel safe anymore. The question is, will you go?

To say the last few months had been hard was the understatement of the century. You’d been on your own for the last year or so, since your surrogate father, Bobby, had been killed by Dick Roman. You could handle a gun and throw a punch, but really your skills were in helping out hunters where you could, studying lore and answering the phones and so you threw yourself into it whole heartedly to fill the gaping chasm in your chest. Of course, this also meant helping the Winchester boys.

You loved those boys like family. You’d grown up together when John had left them with Bobby for weeks at a time. These were the memories you looked back on most fondly. Running around with Sam, Dean joining you when he wasn’t pretending to be too cool for your childish games. The years had passed swiftly until one summer the boys came back and Dean seemed so different. He’d grown taller and filled out, and how could you have never noticed how green those eyes of his were? It was the biggest cliché and yet you fell hopelessly for him that summer. Sam rolled his eyes in disgust but swore diligently to never tell Dean your secret. And then just like that, they were gone again.

It wasn’t until many years later that the boys finally returned. Searching for their father and hunting anything that stood in their path. You helped them with Bobby, but damn it if your heart still didn’t melt at the mere sight of the eldest Winchester.

That was before.

You felt different now. You still loved Dean, how could you not? Your love for him had only grown over the years. However, you were skittish now and just felt so damn tired all the time. Your personality muted into a shadow of what it once was, content to sit and observe your surroundings rather than be the soul of the party as you had once been. Dean knew why. Sam knew why. Hell, everyone knew why and even though everyone told the brothers constantly that it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but shoulder the responsibility. It was the Winchester way after all. It was them the demons were after when they kidnapped you in the dead of night and it was the bunkers location you’d been tortured for weeks for. Until the boys had finally found you, half starved, bruised and bloody, and rescued you.

The road to recovery had been hard. Cas had immediately healed your physical injury’s with a single touch once you were back in the bunker, but you knew it was the mental scars that were going to take the most healing. Flashes of the torture you’d endured haunting you at any given moment and you’d yet to manage more than a few hours sleep without a nightmare. You were still severely malnourished and had only just managed to start eating more than a few mouthfuls at a time.

After spending a week and a half in the bunker recovering under the boys watchful gazes you had gathered your few things together and made your way to the War Room, ready to say your goodbyes, determined not to out stay your welcome. Sure, you would miss the wonderful home cook meals Dean had been constantly preparing, despite you eating very little of them, and the way Dean had held you through the nightmares that had plagued you in those first nights. Waking up screaming until your throat was hoarse.

The look of identical incredulity on their faces when you told them you were heading home had almost been comical. After much debate Dean had simply taken your bags from you and marched you back to your room, insisting that you were staying with them at least until you were fully recovered and then they would talk more. Damn that Winchester guilt, you hated feeling like a burden. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Winchesters had only invited you to live with them because they felt bad about it all, and you didn’t want to make that any worse. The tiniest part of you couldn’t help to feel relieved though, not really wanting to be alone anymore.

This brought you back to the present. Still marching across your room back and forth as the pent up anxiety slowly built until you felt like you were drowning. Before you’d really even made the conscious decision you were silently slipping out of your room and down the hall to Dean’s room.

You knocked on his door once and heard nothing. After one more try with no response you simply opened up the door and asked, “Dean? Are you awake?”

Before you had time to blink Dean was sat upright in bed, his gun trained on you. Somehow you didn’t even flinch, a part of you expecting this reaction and despite your recent trauma your brain just knew that this was Dean Winchester and he wouldn’t hurt you. You swallowed thickly and watched as he blinked hard, the sleep clearing from his eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” the gun was gone in an instant and he was crossing the room to you in an old tee and jogger shorts. He gripped your shoulders quickly, eyes filled with remorse as they scanned over you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

The questions came far too rapidly for you to keep up with but Dean seemed to realise quickly there was no physical injuries but you still held yourself tense in his arms. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It was as if your throat was closing up. Your hands twitched a bit– you just desperately wanted him to hold you right now. To remind you that you weren’t alone. “Can I sleep in here with you?”

“You come to my room and wake me up at God knows what time to cuddle?” Dean asked, a faint amusement colouring his tone now he could see you were physically fine. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw how distressed you looked. Very quickly he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you back to bed with him. Without thinking you firmly tucked your head into his chest and breathed a sigh of relief as his arms wrapped around you and he started rubbed circles into your back. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists. “It feels like I forgot how to breath...”

“You’re going to be okay.” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath you. Very slowly he took in the sensation of you relaxing underneath his touch. “You’ve got me and Sam. Lots of people who love you and are going to make sure that you’re safe. Always. We’ll take care of you.”

You could feel your mind stumbling and sticking onto one of the things that he said, “Love me?”

Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the time to get into that specifically, he thought. The morning, when you finally got some sleep would be better. “Yeah, Sweetheart. Family who love you.”

Your heart skipped at his statement. How could he still not know how you felt?

Sam did though. He could see the torch you held for his brother as clear as if it was a beacon lighting up the night sky. You felt his watchful gaze on you as you gravitated towards his brother for comfort without thought. Needing him to be close to just make it through the god damn day.

You shifted just enough to nuzzle into his neck. “I love my family too.” He stiffened just a bit under your touch, and you felt Dean let out a very shaky breath. There was more you wanted to talk about, more you wanted to say, but you finally felt so warm and safe that you couldn’t be bothered to worry more about it.

You were surrounded by warmth and Dean’s scent– that gunpowder, leather and oil combination that just made you feel like home. His arms felt nice and sturdy around you, and it was impossible not to become completely relaxed in them.

Dean laid there debating with himself whether to push the subject– but the second he finally got his mouth open to speak he heard your breathing even out.

You’d fallen asleep.

Tomorrow.

You woke up slowly and found yourself in a very different position than when you’d fallen asleep. Half of Dean’s weight was now on top of you as you laid on your back. Apparently both of you tossed and turned while you slept.

With a groan you patted Dean’s cheek a few times to wake him up, only resulting in him nuzzling into your collarbone more, his breath tickling your skin. “Stop waking me up, woman.”

“It’s almost lunch, Dean.” You paused before adding, “You’re also using my chest as a pillow.”

Immediately he sat up from on top of you, his face tinged pink. “Sorry about that Sweetheart”

You snickered and rubbed your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed as well. “It’s alright. We were both asleep.” It was impossible to keep from laughing a little more, as you realised just how bad his bedhead was. Without thinking you reached out and began to fuss with a bit that was really stuck up. “Is this why you spend so much time messing with your hair, Dean?”

“You’re awful sassy to the guy who shared his bed with you last night.”

“Mmm, well you ought to be used to my sass by now Winchester.” you slowly lowered your hand when you noticed his tongue flick over his lips, your stomach doing flips and your heart rate picking up. “Thank you though. I didn’t want to–”

Dean watched as your lips pursed into a thin line, “Didn’t want to what?”

“Look, I know why you two asked me here. I know it’s because you think it’s your fault what happened to me. I don’t want to mess things up for you two more. I hate to be a liability.”

His blood boiled a bit at your words. “We asked you here because you’re our friend, who got hurt protecting us. We worry about you.”

You tried to protest again but he shook his head, “No. You went through something horrific Y/n. You’re still barely touching any food and you’re quiet now, you don’t sleep well! We wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That’s why you’re here. Because you took care of us, and now we’re taking care of you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, the rest of his speech dying down in his mouth as he looked at you. He’d had it all planned last night and yet when he looked at you with the dark circles and bags underneath your eyes he hesitated. Not because of you, but because of himself. So what that you still weren’t lit up like you were before Bobby died. You were the woman he loved, the woman he’d gladly die for. But he was poison, hadn’t your recent brush of death confirmed that? Once Dean Winchester decided he loved someone it was as good as placing a target on their back and signing their death warrant. And yet Sam’s words came floating back to him. You love her and you know she feels the same. Life’s too short, Dean. Seize the moment and be happy. Could he really dare to hope that you loved him back.

“Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?”

Your eyes went wide as your face snapped up to look at him, “What?” Your brain was reeling, not sure how he’d changed the subject without you knowing.

Dean blushed again, “I’m sorry, god. You don’t… that was terrible. I shouldn’t have asked that. God damn it that’s not a good thing to ask–” you weren’t in a good place, and pushing you about that or asking you things like that could result in you making a choice you weren’t later happy with and Dean didn’t want to do that to you. “I’m sorry. Don’t–”

Very gently, you reached out and cupped Deans cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, and you felt Deans hands on your shoulders so softly that you wondered if he was scared of hurting you.

His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss you shared was sweet and chaste. Before everything that had happened you’d day dream about something far more passionate that would have ended in someone getting pinned against something but now it was just good to feel something so gentle.

When you parted you were greeted with a fretful looking Dean, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” you snickered just a bit, “We’re adults you know– it’s not like when we were twelve and kissing was the most crazy thing you could do with someone.”

He smiled and then nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too.” your hands once more went to his hair and played with the strands as you thought about his words, “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

“I hoped. Wished I’d have said something before.”

To that you shrugged– there were so many possibilities missed that you didn’t see the point in counting them all. “We’ve got it out now. That’s all that matters.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #deansbirthdaybash #January 24th #24th January #Dean winchesters birthday #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn #chocolatecakecas #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: malnourishment #happy birthday dean winchester #iprobablyshipit91 writes #All That Matters

391 notes · View notes

archervale · 1 year

Photo

✨Happy late Birthday Dean Winchester!✨

Cas took him out on a beach date!

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #deansbirthdaybash #destiel fanart #spn fanart #archie art #emeraldcas #tuserpris #tusersana #deancaskiss #chocolatecakecas #tagged you cause you planned the birthday bash haha sorry

309 notes · View notes

athenashuntress · 3 months

Text

happy birthday to him and only him

(say hi to Bagel too!)

#he got a kitten !!!#more like he let cas keep the stray that suspiciously keeps showing up at their doorstep #dean winchester #supernatural #jensen ackles #jackles #my art #not ai art #art on tumblr #artwork #art #fanart #deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #happy birthday dean #spn

44 notes · View notes

one-more-offbeat-anthem · 1 year

Text

weird age

(for dean’s 44th birthday celebration hosted by @chocolatecakecas !)

Twenty-four is a weird age.

Maybe, if Dean had friends, he would feel some kind of abject jealousy towards his peers, with degrees and families and jobs, but he doesn’t. In the past few months, he’s gotten really into a cheesy soap opera that seems to be on every crappy motel television in the Midwest at every hour of the day. It’s called Dr. Sexy, and Dad would hate it, but he and Dean are on the outs right now and Dean’s been hunting alone (and driving a 1984 slate grey Chevy truck that he didn’t not steal), so he can watch the show as much as he wants.

On Dr. Sexy, the patients are all ages, but a lot of them are in their early twenties, and a lot of them are like him. Lonely. Estranged. Drinking too much. Arguing with their fathers. Dean doesn’t have any kids like some of the patients (as far as he’s aware), but he is driving to nowhere, like most of them are.

Today is his twenty-fourth birthday, and Dean spent the morning ganking a ghoul before grabbing a greasy diner burger and a gas station six-pack. Now he’s slouched on the latest springy motel mattress, beer in hand, Dr. Sexy on the television. No one has called--not Dad, not Sam, and Mom, well, Mom’s been dead for almost twenty years now.

On the television, the latest patient is a middle-aged woman who got in a serious car wreck, and while Dr. Sexy himself is talking about the prognosis with a nurse that he’s having a thinly veiled affair with, the patient’s son grasps his mother’s limp hand.

Dean drains the beer and switches off the television.

********

Forty-four is a weird age.

If he's being honest with himself, Dean didn’t expect to get here, let alone past his early twenties. If he had had dreams of middle age, he’s not sure he would have dreamed up watching his brother, his brother’s girlfriend, a toddler who looks like a teenager and was briefly God, and an angel attempt to make him a birthday cake in the kitchen of an underground bunker.

(He’s pretty sure the cake is supposed to be a surprise, but the bakers aren’t making any great effort to be secretive. Or quiet.)

The past twenty years have been full of the unexpected. Dean’s dad eventually bit it, and Dean died a time or two himself. He’s helped prevent a handful of apocalypses and been an archangel puppet. And he’s had his own soap opera-worthy love story with the aforementioned angel. It took over a decade of deaths and arguments and resurrections and reconciliation and rescue missions and half-baked confessions, but he and Cas finally figured it out. They’re settled.

They’re all settled.

Dean looks at his family, who have all remembered his birthday and are turning the kitchen into a bomb site as a result, and decides to let the cake stay, in their eyes, a surprise.

In the meantime, he’s going to go watch some Dr. Sexy and have a beer.

#offbeatwrites #deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY #HE IS THE BIRTHDAY BOY #<3 <3 <3

158 notes · View notes