So, I know we always say it, but the other day I was finally fed up enough - or weird enough - to decide I’d make a list. And, guys, this is going to be a long-ass post, so if you haven’t got time, here is the tl;dr version: if we look at the love tropes most commonly used to build an onscreen relationship, Dean and Cas score an eye-watering 61/91 - that’s a 67% total.
Now, to put that in perspective - in order to build a romance arc, you’ve got five obligatory stages (meeting each other, falling in love, becoming a couple, a period of conflict, a resolution) and each of these stages will include at least one common trope, more or less hidden according to the kind of media and the author’s intent and sophistication. tvtropes lists a total of 91 tropes, but no love story will ever use them all. That would be ridiculous - either a parody or complete insanity. Think of a story where our lovers were destined to be together and also promised to each other as children and also the reincarnation of past lovers; where they meet by spilling coffee on each other and then she goes on to lose her handkerchief and he picks it up and runs after her to give it back but - whoa - now she’s been attacked by pirates and the hero wants to save her but his king is ordering him not to and oh no, what will he do? That sounds like overkill, right? And it totally is: a story with too many tropes is a ridiculous, unrealistic, unwatchable mess. To give you a better idea of what I mean, if look at those 91 tropes tvtropes lists as possible steps to build a romance arc, Dirty Dancing, one of the most romantic movies ever made, only scores 19 points; 10 Things I Hate about You, another big favourite of mine and an absolute ALL the love, ALL the feels story, scores 16 points. And Jane the Virgin, an actual soap-opera parody on the CW complete with sudden rain and snow to highlight special kisses, scores even lower: 13 points.
Meanwhile, normal friendships between men like Sam and Frodo’s in the Lord of the Rings trilogy or Ted and Marshall’s in How I Met Your Mother score a grand total of zero points - so, yes, it’s perfectly possible to write a non-romantic male friendship even when that friendship is a dramatic I’ll walk with you to the very edge of the Earth and then carry you up the slopes of a dangerous volcano and finally die with you sort of thing. Because, funnily enough, you can be friends with somebody and be ready to die for them without actually having a sexual interest in them.
(Johnlock scores 29 points.)
Something you could be wondering at this point is, why tropes though? Why are tropes a thing, and why does it matter how many tropes Supernatural chooses to use between Dean and Cas? And, look, I’m sure someone else could say it better, but essentially tropes are the bones of a story. Every single story you see out there, from the Odyssey to Torchwood/Gossip Girl crossovers to coffeshop AUs is built out of the same building blocks. There are, like, seven possible plots and about two dozen kinds of characters and maybe two hundred common tropes - and that’s it. Try tagging any classic novel with AO3 tags and you’ll see what I mean.
[This story is Jules Verne’s fanfiction of an Edgar Allan Poe novel, and, yeah.]
Now, since it’s only possible to build a story in a limited number of ways, the problem all authors face is to find an original way to make it work. Some will use tropes religiously, either because they can’t think of anything different or because they hope a tried-and-tested formula will appeal to readers (see every romance novel under the sun; also most thrillers). Others will make fun of tradition by throwing the tropes back in your face (one of my favourite takes of this is Diana Wynne Jones’ Howl’s Moving Castle). And others will manage to bullshit you so thoroughly and completely you won’t notice the tropes are there until it’s too late - those are the stories where you’re truly surprised and shocked by events and you sit up in bed like a fool gasping out loud and you only stop reading because you need to tell someone asap, You won’t believe what just happened. A good example of this is the ending of the first season of Game of Thrones - we were all so convinced Ned Stark was the hero, filming people who hadn’t read the books as they watched him die became something of a hobby; and many became convinced George RR Martin was this all-powerful deity without any rules (not true: he’s a good writer, however, and he managed to convince most of us Ned was the hero when in reality he was the ‘Dumbledore’ figure - and therefore his death makes perfect sense).
And if we’re talking about Destiel - as I explained in the very first meta I wrote for this fandom (though at the time I hadn’t even realized I was part of a fandom, and didn’t know what a meta even was), I didn’t start to ‘ship’ Dean and Cas out of nefarious reasons, or tedium, or a desire to write smutty fanfiction. In fact, I still don’t consider myself a shipper in any way. I am not particularly interested in romance, and I never go out of my way to see who may be suited for whom. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong in doing that - just that it’s something I don’t do. If I started to see Destiel and to write about it, it’s because to me (and, apparently, to a lot of other people), it was clear that there was something there; that that was how the story was built. And if I started to look at it more closely, it was simply because my expectations as a viewer were disappointed, and the relationship of trust between author and reader was - for me - crumbling into nothingness.
And, look, I won’t lie: I was angry and upset by the implications - that there was something wrong with me - that I was trying to force a sexual relationship on two friends just because. That, as a woman, I couldn’t enjoy a story without making it all about the romance. No, I am a huge book nerd, and I like writing stories, and I mostly analyse stuff for a living and I also sort of have eyes? - so, to me, it was clear I was being lied to, and at that moment, I was left in an uncomfortably ambiguous position which will sound familiar to many of you - I was furious at the show, but at the same time I was still in love with the characters (so very much in love). This was a frustrating feeling which presented me with two equally unappealing options - to keep watching and not expect anything, or to walk away. In the end, I tried a third way, which I suspect many of you have chosen as well: I was too invested in these characters to abandon them, but I also wanted this story to be an honest story, so I started complementing it with ‘viewing supports’. I started to read (and write) fanfiction. I looked for fanvideos, fanart and gifs. And, most of all, I fell into the habit of reading (and writing) metas after every episode to make sure what I was seeing was actually there. Because, well, for me - that’s why I write metas about Supernatural when I don’t write metas of other shows I enjoy much more: because most of the time Supernatural is more focused on not telling a story than it is in telling one, which means what we are left with what is a half story where our characters have their own secret life offscreen and many lines of dialogue could mean anything. Ironically enough, Supernatural has become like its hero and POV character, Dean Winchester: a con and a liar and a charmer who tries to be liked by everyone.
(And let’s not forget the swings both ways thing).
As for the other question - are we crazy? - I’m hoping this post will help clearing things up: no, we are not crazy. The reason we see a romance unfolding is because the relationship between Dean and Cas is written to fit a romance arc - and does fit a romance arc by 67%.
Warning: anal sex, threesome, smut, some dirty talk, slight voyeurism
A/N: While this is a request from my kink list, it is also a middle finger to the ship hate I’ve seen lately. Feedback appreciated! XOXO
They’re in a motel the first time Sam hears them have sex, in the room next door. He’s been wondering for a while if Dean and Cas are fucking, and those low moans pretty much tell him that not only are they fucking, they’ve been fucking long enough to learn how to have a really good time.
“Yeah?” Dean replied, not taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. They were watching this new TV Show called “Stranger Things” and they had been binge-watching it ever since they came home from school. It was currently 10 pm and they were fully invested.
It sure was an amazing show.
The only problem is that Cas couldn’t appreciate the show enough because of his nerves.
He was about to tell Dean something and he knew that Dean would react badly.
“I have a date,” Castiel confessed, almost flinching when Dean turned his head suddenly, squinted eyes pointed at him.
“With who?” Dean asked, his voice calm with a bit of anger laced through it.
“Balthazar,” Castiel replied as he watched the tension rising in Dean’s shoulders.
“If he hurts you, I will fucking kill him,” Dean warned and turned back to the screen, his jaw clenched.
Castiel knew that Dean was very protective, not only over him but over Sam as well. He saw the reaction coming, but he really wanted to go on this date. His first date.
“I know you will,” Castiel chuckled and softly pushed against Dean’s shoulder. “You over-protective bastard.”
Dean chuckled and slung an arm over Cas’ shoulder. “Yep, that’s me.”
The day of the date arrived and Dean was about to hit a hole through the wall.
Sweet, precious Cas thought that he was just being a good, protective friend, but Dean was far from that.
He was selfish and jealous and wanted Cas for himself. However, confessing was not in Dean’s dictionary.
He would lose Cas and that was not something he could risk.
Dean eventually calmed down enough to go downstairs and participate in the family meal, even joking with Sam and helping his mom with the dishes.
No, the real anger came when the doorbell rang and Castiel was in front of him, tear streaks running down his cheeks.
Dean pulled him in and against him, enveloping Cas in a tight hug.
“Don’t kill him,” Castiel sniffled, smiling weakly, “but it was probably the worst date ever.”
“I will make you hot cocoa,” Dean said gently, ushering Cas inside. “Go to my room and make yourself at home.”
They both knew that they always felt at home at each other’s houses. They have seen the other’s home as their second home for as long as they can remember.
Dean rushed to make the cocoa and when he brought it upstairs, he found Cas in one of his old hoodies, which was way too big on Cas, in his bed with the duvet drawn up.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked, setting the cocoa down and sitting next to Cas, his hand playing with the dark mop on top of Cas’ head.
“Not really,” Cas replied.
Cas told Dean about the date eventually and it didn’t make Dean less angry. Apparently, Balthazar had flirted with every living thing in the club he brought Cas to. Yes, a club, with actual fake-ids. Balthazar had gotten drunk which resulted in Cas having to take the bus to Dean’s house. Luckily, it wasn’t that far away from the club.
So when Dean saw Balthazar, he didn’t think that punching him in the face was such a bad reaction. I mean, he could have done way worse.
“I told you not to kill him!” Castiel near shouted when as he gently wrapped Dean’s hand with a bandage. Dean almost laughed at the contrast but wisely refrained.
“I didn’t kill him, just punched him.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that.
“Dean, you don’t have to do these things.”
“Yes, I do!” Dean said, his tone sharp. “He was a jerk, he deserved it.”
“Well, he kinda did, didn’t he?” Castiel chuckled, securing the bandage. “All done.”
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said, briefly touching Cas’ cheek with his bandaged hand.
“And I am sorry for punching MR Jerkface.”
“Apology accepted and thank you for sticking up for me.”
They stared at each other for a bit too long. Cas tried to look away but Dean stopped him, his bandaged hand back on Castiel’s cheek.
Suddenly, a pair of warm, dry lips were on Dean’s, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
Dean seemed to freeze for a second before melting into the kiss, holding Cas’ face in his hands.
“I like you too,” Castiel said breathlessly.
“How did you know I liked you?” Dean asked, his mind still spinning from the kiss.
“You punched somebody in the face for me, that was kind of a big sign.”
“I would do it again,” Dean said, pecking Cas’ lips.
Summary: The reader and Sam have been dating for a while and when Sam starts to wanting a little bit more in the relationship a darker part of the reader’s past is revealed.
Pairings: Sam x Reader
Warnings: mentions of abuse, self harm and a heated makeout between reader and Sam, smut implied at the end.
Author’s note: Firstly thank you all so much for a 112 followers. I know it’s not much but I’m glad that all of you are following me! I’ve been suffering from a little bit of writer’s block and I blame it on my new work that has me in a constant state of angst. But tomorrow is a new week and I’ll see how it goes :)
The gifs is not my own but if it belongs to you don’t hesitate to shoot me a message and I’ll be happy to give you credit.
And sorry for the cheesy title but I couldn’t resist.
The Winchesters. You should’ve listened to everyone’s advice about them.
They might be the best family of hunters in existence but getting to close to them always ended up for the worse. Normally nowadays meeting up with other hunters left them questioning you.
Why you were with the boys? Why you were so close with Sam? Is everything okay? Do you owe them anything?
No, you don’t. But a tragic incidence with your own family tree of hunters landed you on Bobby’s doorstep after making it through what felt like millions of foster families and he eventually passed you onto the brothers. It was the brother’s job to keep you busy, occupied, hunting and forgetting about the death of your family members and the troubling past that had consisted of crude foster families.
Not all of em’ was that bad, but there was a few that left you questioning the whole foster care system due to the things they said to you, made you do, and how they treated you. But that wasn’t a time you wanted to relive, ever, for now you were travelling across America with the two Winchester brothers.
Travelling with the boys had its perks. Always knowing that you’d get the bedroom, always getting majority say in certain situations, having a say in the music, a clean bathroom (as the boys have learned to keep everything neat and tidy when you are around), the protective brothers, and of course, falling in love with Sam.
But it had its misfortunes as well. Having to put up with both brother’s stubbornness and willingness to let you go on certain hunts, arguments about who got to drive the Impala, both Sam and Dean being inconsiderate towards you when you want to check up on their emotional state, Sam and Dean arguing about the littlest of things forcing you to take sides. Even though it made life harder than it was you knew these few things outweighed the massive perk you got about just being in their company. Especially Sam’s.
Dean had called it when you first told him about your crush on Sam. He claimed that the moment Sam laid eyes on you, and vice versa you were already falling for one another. You confided in Dean and he gave advice that made your boots shake in fear,
“Just tell him, Y/N. Sammy will appreciate it if you just come clean with him.” you recalled Dean’s words to you.
And you vaguely recall Dean mentioning that he and Bobby was betting on it. Dean encouraged you to tell Sam and did so in a way of reassuring you that - Sam - felt the same way. And he did.
You have been dating for about 6 months now, and you couldn’t have hoped for anything better. Currently you were in Dallas Texas investigating a house haunted by a murderous spirit. But for now you were relaxing as both Dean and Sam were out for an interview with the owners.
You were seated at one of the desks in the living area, you were lost in the paperback, ‘The Crucible’, a novel that Sam had given to you on your third or so date. You jumped slightly as a tall and lean figure made contact with your back as you inhaled the scent. Sam leaned over and placed a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed your heartbeat racing far more than it should’ve. Sam gave a chuckle as he tugged his chin into your neck making you giggle.
“Hey babe,” he whispered in your ear sending shivers up and down your spine. You smiled as your concentration broke away from the book as his immediate body heat disappeared as he made his way over to the kitchenette.
“Find anything of use at the house?” you questioned, standing up following slowly behind Sam.
“No, but the owners said something about attending a ball in about two days” he replied.
“So I’m guessing your going to send me to the ball and both you and Dean will go investigate?” you sarcastically stated, wrapping your arms around his waste as he was busy making a sandwich.
“You know, you make it so hard for us to actually take care of you.” he retorted easily.
“Yeah, I know.” you laughed into his back.
His laughed bubbled from deep within him and you smiled at the little gesture.
“I’m serious. If you’d just listen to me, and Dean sometimes, it would spare us a lot of grey hairs and excess stress.”
“Yeah, yeah” you retorted hopping onto the counter next to him, unaware of the little kitchenette supporting your whole weight. Sam smiled up at you, and looked back to the magazine he was flipping through and chuckled slightly.
“What?” you questioned, eyes widening, hitting him playfully on the arm. He flipped the magazine closed and manoeuvred himself till he was in between your legs. You placed your hands on his shoulders as you stared at him.
“Your just gorgeous,” he smiled and your stomach twisted as you smiled.
“Yeah, yeah. You too” you smirked slightly, “Where’s Dean?”
“He is with the owner’s of the house’s daughter. She is showing him round town and particularly their mansion of the house,” he smiled, “Which means we are all-” and he kissed your cheek, “-alone” and he kissed your collarbone and sucked harshly sending spark flying to your toes.
“Sam,” you whispered as he moved from your collarbone to your bare neck. He gripped onto your hips pulling you closer to him. Insecurities screaming at you and your brain going into panic. You pushed him away slightly,
“You must be starving- go pick us a movie and I’ll order something from the room service for us.” you smiled nervously as Sam helped you off the counter.
You disappeared to the bathroom leaving Sam confused and dazed in the kitchen. Your stomach twisting in regret and nausea. Shutting it quickly behind you before he could catch a glimpse of you.
Sam was hinting at sex for about two months now and still every time he did you shut him down. You didn’t blame him, you had been dating for 6 months now. But giving your body over to Sam. The body full of self harm scars, full of failed hunts, full of hate, full of abuse, full of stretch marks and full of things no guy wants on a girl they like. You knew Sam, he was to soft, to loveable, to kind to tell you the truth and you were afraid that he would think less of you, or that it might turn him off, make you less beautiful in his eyes if he was to see them- if he was to see you in the flesh.
You stood and stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked pale in the ill illuminated bathroom that smelled of leather and Sam’s body wash with a hint of cheap perfume. All the blood had drained from your face so suddenly and you were cursing yourself for being so pathetic about the whole situation. You quickly tied your hair up in a high pony tail as waves of heat hit your body the anxiousness of the situation building in your chest. You clenched onto the bathroom sink breathing heavily.
You were ready for him but your own insecurities over shadowed any mean of you actually thinking straight and pursuing what you wanted. You were on the brink of a panic attack ready to throw yourself in front of a truck much rather than actually telling Sam what you were feeling.
A knock on the door made you jump.
“Y/N” Sam’s voice came from the other side laced with concern and worry. You almost being able to imagine the crease in his brow. You quickly cleared your own throat and replied,
“Yeah, I’ll be out now.”
“Is everything okay babe?”
“I’m fine, on my way now” you called flushing the toilet knowing that it wouldn’t fool Sam and with that you opened the door. Sam’s figure staring down at you the worry in his voice reflecting on his facial features.
“You sure your okay?” he questioned again as you stalked over to the little phone book of the motel you were staying at.
“Of course” you forced a smile, “Will pizza be okay?”
A few minutes later you were seated next to Sam on the couch watching some sort of rom-com that was available on one of the free channels. Sam’s are draped around your figure. You hadn’t mentioned what had happened in the kitchen and you weren’t planning to. You knew you should just tell him but you couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up in a conversation.
‘Hey Sam. I want to have sex with you but your going to think I’m an ugly and revolting person because I haven’t told you about what actually happened during my foster home time and through all this remember I’m a virgin.’
You were going to sound crazy. But you also knew your boyfriend- he wasn’t going to stop until you tell him ‘not today’ or ‘maybe another time’ excuses you’ve been using for months.
And not too long after, Sam placed a long lingering kiss to your temple once again. You decided to see how this would play out, maybe you could just do it and he wouldn’t even notice. You knew you were trying to kid yourself but you continued.
Sam gently pulled you down so that your were laying on the couch and almost immediately removed his shirt. He pressed his warm body up against yours immediately taking to your collarbone and neck, every so often nipping at the skin behind your ear- making your toes curl in pleasure. A loose knot already forming in your lower stomach.
His one arm holding some of his weight up and the other roaming your side, constantly stopping to squeeze your hips and you had to bite away the insecurities burning wildly in your chest. He pulled away from your neck and smiled slightly as he placed his lips on yours.
Then you got lost, all was forgotten. Your lips moved in sync and he moaned suddenly into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. His hand traveled up your shirt and squeezed slightly through your bra and your back arched suddenly.
Sam nestled his growing bulge in between your legs and you gasped suddenly as the sudden friction to your already wet sex making the knot tighter in your lower stomach. Sam quickly sobering up the opportunity to prod your mouth with his tongue. You started doing the same and your tongues wrestled with one another.
Then Sam tugged at your shirt, you tensed up and he felt the sudden change in the mood, in you. He slowly pulled away from the kiss.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.” he whispered into your neck as he leaned more of his weight on you. You nodded slowly and he slid the shirt of you with your help.
“Fuck your gorgeous, babe.” he whispered attacking your neck again making you moan slightly as he nibbled and sucked.
You have taken off your shirt in front of Sam before but that was about it. He has never seen you naked and that was what terrified you so much.
Sam had worked his way down to the waist line of your shirts as he shifted to your lips one more. You got lost again the knot tightening in your stomach as Sam squeezed your breasts. Then he tugged at your shorts.
You tried to brush it off hoping he would seize but then he undid the button of your shirt and your brain shut down again. Suddenly noticing how bare you were in front of Sam despite only have taken of your shirt.
You pulled away from the kiss and your heart broke a little seeing Sam’s facial expression.
“Sam, I’m sorry.” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. He silently kissed your cheek as he crawled off you. You quickly grabbed your own shirt as Sam slid his over his head. His facial expression hurt, confused and disappointed?
“No, you don’t have to be sorry .” he stated not bringing his own eyes to yours, “I should’ve stopped.” he stated clasping his chin with his hand. He turned to you,
“I know you don’t want to and I respect that. Just know that I love you and I’ll wait even if that means forever.”
You extended your hand to his as he squeezed it slightly before kissing it.
“Sam, its not that I don’t want to,” you started and his attention averted towards you once again, he but his lip, “Its just really hard for me to tell you because for months now I’ve been pondering over the same thing and trying to determine how you would react and I just-” but he cut you off.
“Tell me, Y/N” he encouraged and you had to inhale and exhale before you could dare answer back.
“Before I met you and Dean and before Bobby. Right after my parents died. I was put through some horrid foster care families.” you blurted, not daring to lock eyes with his.
“They abused me physically and verbally and for a while I was okay.” you whispered, “but then after hearing how pathetic and worthless one is you start believing it.”
“And I did.”
“Y/N…” he stated as his eyebrows furrowed in worry.
“I self harmed.” you choked as Sam’s eyes flooded with shock and terror. “I have scars that should’ve killed me Sammy. Stretch marks that prove I’m not pretty enough. I’m not good enough for you Sam.”
“Y/N stop it.” he snapped silently, “You, don’t you dare.”
“Sam I can’t get past my own insecurities and they are killing me because I love you so much and I want to sleep wit you but your not going to see me the same way you did after seeing all of it.” you whispered and he grabbed both your hands in his.
“You know what, Y/N. I fell in love with your gorgeous and beautiful personality.” he whispered his voice deep and cracked occasionally, “When I said I love you. I meant ALL of you.” he explained putting emphasis on all.
“Your right I’m not going to look at you differently after I see you bare and naked in front of me.” he stated simply as your eyes swam in his sincerity, “I’m going to see those scars and they are going to remind me of how truly strong you are, and I’m going to see the stretch marks and know how beautiful they make you and how YOU they make you.” he explained passionately heaving in frustration because he was bewildered that you couldn’t see it they way he did.
“Sam I-I don’t-” you stuttered and he smiled pulling you close to him.
“I love you Y/N Y/L/N. and if you let me,” he stated “I’ll show you what that means.”
Your eyes locked with Sam’s and you nodded slightly. He smiled as you finally knew no insecurity was going to come in the way of you and Sam’s relationship. They might not entirely go away but with time and gentle care they would seize and stop bothering you entirely.
But for now, it was just you and Sam. Forever was only the start with Sam Winchester and both of you knew it.
The toes of your beat-up chucks dragged against the dirt as old porch swing creaked to a halt, still swaying slightly from the wind. The roar of the impala’s engine pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see one of Dean’s friends hanging out the window, whooping and hollering. You rolled your eyes and stood, walking up to the garage and pulling it open. Stepping back to let Dean in, you sighed softly. Your makeup felt heavy on your face and a light breeze pushed your skirt up slightly. “Looking good, pretty lady,” Dean crooned, getting out of the car, and hurrying over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, smiling down at you.
You blushed and grinned, chuckling lightly. “There’s some beer on the coffee table,” you told him.
one of my favorite things is when you’re in a group of friends sitting around chatting but you’re not talking, but it’s not awkward because they’re still talking to you, you just dont feel like talking and they’re okay with that. you’re listening and they’re talking about things that interest you and it’s lighthearted and casual and you feel totally comfortable even without really being too involved
Request: For the Christmas drabble how bout 1, 3, and 6 with Castiel?
Pairing: Cas x reader
1- “I swear, if I have to listen to one more Christmas song…” 3- “Shut your filthy mouth; these cookies are my mother’s recipe.” 6- “What do you mean I have one more present….oh….”
You adored your angel. He was somehow the most battle scarred but innocent and naive member of your little family. He adored you too. Especially when it was Christmas time.
“I swear, if I have to listen to one more Christmas song…” grumbled Dean, standing and covering his ears.
“Dean, you like Christmas songs,” you said, watching him walk over to the tree and grab a small present Dean knew you’d made for Cas.
“I used to,” he said, tossing you the present. “Here. Go bribe him into turning that stuff off for an hour.”
“I was going to give this to him today actually,” you said, turning on your heels. You found Cas in the kitchen, having an argument with Sam.
“Shut your filthy mouth! These cookies are my mother’s recipe,” you heard Sam say as Cas ate one of the still burning hot cookies.
“They still taste like molecules to me Sam,” said Cas. “Mary is also not a very good chef. I don’t believe she puts enough flour in these from an anatomical standpoint.”
“From an anatomical standpoint,” mimicked Sam, grabbing the plate and heading out to Dean.
“The boys seem to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you said, seeing that curious tilt of his head when Cas didn’t understand.
“Your brothers aren’t very pleasant this morning but why does mood correlate to what side of the-” said Cas before you cut him off.
“Forget it. Open this instead,” you said, handing him the gift.
“Y/N. We’re supposed to wait until Christmas,” said Cas, reluctantly taking it from you. “What do you mean I have one more present…” he said, unwrapping it but his blue eyes on you. “You said last night was my early present.”
“Just open it would ya,” you said, gazing down, his following yours. His lips curled up into a smile when he saw the small piece of paper in a picture frame.
“Oh,” he said, his voice less deep. It was from all of you but Cas was hugging you, knowing it’d been your idea to find that paper you’d all signed from that awful night months ago that told him he was a Winchester too. “Thank you,” he said, popping out of the room and then back in a flash. “I put it somewhere safe in our room.”
“Merry Christmas, Castiel.”
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” said Cas, taking a step closer.
“These cookies are awful!” you heard Dean say from the other room, a smile spreading over your cheeks as Cas chuckled and Sam began stomping over towards the two of you.
“I think you’re next to taste,” said Cas, popping the two of you into your room.
“Thank you,” you said, finally getting a kiss from him. “How long before we tell him we messed with the recipe?”
“You did what!” said Sam, already at the doorway to your room. Cas didn’t even have to look at you to know where you wanted to go.
“Much better,” you said, sitting on a beach next to Cas, miles and miles away from anything and anyone, just you and your angel.