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vaudelin · 3 years
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burn this into your brains forever
10k of deancas with Garth fake dating nonsense, based on this incredible art by @lemon-wedges
“Bess’s cousin has gone missing,” Garth begins, glancing dolefully from Sam to Cas, then to Dean, “and in order to find him, I’m gonna need one of you to be my husband.”
After a night spent chugging coffee and hauling ass across the country, spurred on by one SOS 911 PLEASE COME ASAP I NEED HELP!!! text dragging them to the hellscape known as Wisconsin, Dean’s barely-alert mind figures that even if he tried, Garth couldn’t make any less sense.
“What?” Sam asks flatly, at the same time Dean says the same, but louder. Cas doesn’t react at all, save for a slightly more squinty squint.
“Bess’s cousin,” Garth repeats. “He went to a couple’s retreat about a week ago with his new girlfriend, and we haven’t heard from him since.”
“And you need us because…?” Dean raises plaintive eyebrows, to which Sam slaps his arm, mouth moued and disapproving.
“I need to go undercover to find him, and I need one of you to help!” Garth’s eyes grow glassy, brimming with unshed tears. “His phone must be dead because he isn’t answering our calls. Bess has been worried sick, up all night crying. It makes me ache to see her hurting so.”
Sam gives a sympathetic look. “If it’s a couples retreat, why can’t you and Bess just check it out yourselves?”
“Well, the retreat’s for supernatural couples looking to rekindle with their human partners. Her cousin’s girlfriend is human,” Garth adds, as if it weren’t obvious. “He was trying to get her comfortable with his lycanthropy.”
“And you don’t have any other human friends?” Dean asks, impassive.
Garth turns his best puppy-dog eyes onto Dean, which amount to little more than a knock-off copy of Sam’s patented gaze, shoddily reproduced by some underground market with only a vague inkling of its true power. Dean stares back, undeterred, except for the old programming in his brain that flips a faulty switch, kicking on a knee-jerk instinct and screaming, Sammy’s unhappy! Unhappy!!
Sighing loudly, Dean grumbles, “Who’re thinking could help?”
Garth’s expression wipes clean of all unhappiness, and he giggles, much to Dean’s dismay. “Of course you, silly! I mean, no offense, Sam,” he adds, glancing over dismissively, “but no one would ever believe a guy like me ended up with you. Dean and I just have too much chemistry.”
“Um, thanks?” Sam says, at the same time Cas says, “What.”
Dean shakes his head, arms crossing an emphatic arc through the air. “No way. Uh-uh. Count me out.”
Garth puffs out his cheeks. “Alright then, I guess I’ll settle for Cas.”
Cas blinks, and before he’s had a chance to even process it, Dean loudly blurts out, “No.”
Sam stares at him. Cas furrows his brow, his head tilted.
Dean clears his throat, glancing around the room. “I mean no, uh. That won’t work. He’s, uh—he’s not human. It won’t count.”
Garth throws his hands up in the air and proclaims, “Well, it’s gotta be one of you,” which is how Dean ends up volunteering for this stupid goddamn mission.
Curse Garth and the horse he rode in on. This was going to be the worst weekend of Dean’s life.
[read more on AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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your home a fingerprint
Rating/Length: Explicit (6000 words) Relationship(s): Castiel/Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Eileen Leahy, Sam Winchester, Donna Hanscum, OC Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Retired Hunter Dean, Baby Jack Kline, Domestic Dean/Cas Fluff, Dean's Birthday
A fic for Dean's 43rd birthday, set in the same universe as the home we make together 🎂 Excerpt:
Dean wakes to the bedsheets skimming down over his stomach, the fabric bunched in fists moving beyond his thighs. He snuffles at the cool air prickling his bare skin, inhaling sharply, his pulse jump-kicked toward wakefulness. But he keeps his eyes closed, body still. Mind attuned to how his heart thumps in eager anticipation. Usually, when Cas does this, Dean is in for a pleasant surprise.
[continue reading on AO3]
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vaudelin · 3 years
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the home we make together by vaudelin (Explicit, 11 chapters / approx 40k total)
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Eileen/Sam (background), Claire/Kaia (background)
Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays
A domestic bodysharing fic for the holidays ❄
[updates every 3 days on AO3]
In the kitchen, Dean doesn’t notice the glowing syringe on the counter until he finishes filling a plastic cup with water, a sippy lid stretched over its top. He blinks at the syringe, eyeing the frighteningly-thick gauge of its needle, the bold glass barrel swirling with a silver-blue hue, its glow muted by the folded piece of paper draped over it.
Blood’s in the fridge, the note says. Kaia thinks maybe this’ll work? Beneath it, cramped and scribbled, as if in an afterthought, Good luck. Don’t get yourself killed. — Claire
Grace, extracted from a human once possessed by an angel. The last traces left when an angel moves on for good.
This is it. One last ditch chance to save Cas. And when it doesn’t work out, Dean will…
Dean will have to give up and finally move on. No point keeping this chapter of his life open, making himself heartsick over impossible dreams.
[read on AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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one and the same
Rating/Length: T (6000 words) Relationship(s): Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Eileen Leahy, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (Post-Canon), Retired Hunter Dean Winchester, Getting Together, Miscommunication & Misunderstandings, Chronic Pain
Originally written for @tohellandbackanthology 💙💚
Dean can handle how his knee creaks whenever the weather changes. He can handle the dull throb that builds as the day goes on, his thigh begging him to rest after he’s been up on it for an hour or two.
He’s fine with it all.
Cas has always given up more than his fair share for Dean anyways.
Dean’s not about to beg him for what’s left.
[Now Available on AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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the home we make together [5/11]
❄ domestic deancas bodysharing for the holidays ❄ updates every three days ❄ Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays Chapter 5 Excerpt:
Dean perks up at the mention of cooking. “We’re making cider?” But before he even has a chance to turn toward the kitchen, Eileen hauls him back by the scruff of his shirt.
“Not so fast,” she signs. She motions to Sam, who pulls a large, dusty box out from beneath the war table. Inside of it are —
Sweaters. Old, faded, hideous sweaters.
“They’re actual Men of Letters originals,” Sam says, reading Dean’s mind. “Eileen found them in one of the locked rooms in Dormitory E.”
“We think they were actually in style at the time,” Eileen says, picking through the box until she finds a small one to hand to Jack, too vibrant to be vintage, its price tag still attached. She pushes a particularly garish sweater into Dean’s hands, adding, “This one is your size.”
The front of the v-neck sweater has a knitted Christmas tree design on one side, Santa and his sack of toys on the other. The wool itches in Dean’s hand, hanging limply from his grip. He smiles with poorly mustered enthusiasm. “Thanks, but I’m really not—”
Except Jack has already wedged his head through his sweater, which depicts Santa riding a T-Rex wearing reindeer antlers, and is now yelling at Dean, “Put it on! Put it on!”
Dean winces. “It’s not really my style, kiddo.”
Jack loudly sighs. “Then, Papa, you put it on.”
[START FROM THE BEGINNING] [READ CHAPTER 5 ON AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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the home we make together [9/11]
❄ domestic deancas bodysharing for the holidays ❄ updates every three days ❄ Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays Chapter 9 Excerpt:
As the present pile grows smaller, Dean feels Cas’s uncomplicated joy transform into something more anxious. Dean sends back a thread of calm uncertainty, giving Cas a moment before he asks, “Are you okay?”
I have a gift for you, Cas says in a rush, his nervous energy spreading throughout Dean’s body.
“Yeah?” Dean eyes the tree, but the presents beneath it have all been unwrapped and strewn around the room.
Hold out your hand.
Dean extends his arm, and under Cas’s control, closes his hand into a fist.
Now open it.
Dean flips over his fist, and where his hand had been empty, something small and silver now rests upon his palm.
[START FROM THE BEGINNING] [READ CHAPTER 9 ON AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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the home we make together [6/11]
❄ domestic deancas bodysharing for the holidays ❄ updates every three days ❄ Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays Chapter 6 Excerpt:
Steam builds quickly in the enclosed space, sizzling with warmth. Dean ducks his head beneath the spray and simply stands there for a moment, relishing in the heat sluicing down his body, the water dripping from his face. He turns his shoulders to the spotlight, rubbing at the tension in his muscles. Cas replicates the feeling of a massage so perfectly that Dean sighs and melts beneath it.
“Did you ever,” Dean asks, voice rough and low, hidden beneath the noise of the water. “I mean, have you ever had someone wash your hair before?”
No, Cas replies.
Dean nods. “I, uh. I remember. When I was little, my mom used to. And it was—” He stutters, overcome by the memory of his mother’s hand sifting through his hair. It was the best feeling in the world.
Would you like me to wash your hair?
Dean clears his throat, hoping his voice won’t fully crack. “I actually wanted to wash yours.” [START FROM THE BEGINNING] [READ CHAPTER 6 ON AO3]
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vaudelin · 3 years
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hachikireru by vaudelin (Teen, 23,900 words)
Pairings: Dean/Castiel Tags: Canon Divergent, Post s15e03 The Rupture, POV Castiel, Case Fic, Castiel Can Feel Longing, Love Confessions, First Kiss
A Fandom Trumps Hate 2020 fill for @bunnymcbunnister​ 💙💚
With Jack dead and the Winchesters still shaken by Chuck's big reveal, Castiel departs the bunker following one final, fateful argument with Dean.
Now directionless, on his own in a world that doesn’t want him, Castiel reaches for one of the few threads still tying him to Earth: Claire Novak, seeking vengeance against Kaia's killer, has found another lead in Minnesota, and she doesn't mind him coming along as she investigates the case.
Perhaps it will be enough to convince Castiel there's still a place for him here without the Winchesters—even when Sam and Dean show up unannounced, complicating an increasingly strange case with their presence.
Fresh wounds will need to heal if they’re all going to make it out alive. Castiel only hopes Dean has it within him to forgive him once again.
[now complete on AO3]
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vaudelin · 4 years
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more than can be expressed
15x14 coda. deancas fluff regarding birthdays. 2272 wc. [read on AO3]
“—And sure, the icing was a little lopsided and the sprinkles uneven, but it still counts.” Jack’s proud grin beams even more brightly. “I got to make my first birthday wish.”
Jack gestures toward the table, at the very spot in the library where the event took place less than a week ago. Dean watches closely for Castiel’s reaction to Jack’s recounting, waiting for the nuances that normally comprise Castiel’s mood to resolve into something more overtly positive. 
But rather than seem pleased, Castiel’s mouth tightens, becoming brittle. “I see,” he says, the smile he forcibly held ratcheting coolly into place. “Happy birthday, Jack.”
Jack looks over to Dean, a pleading measure in his eyes. Hell, something big must be off with Cas for even Jack to be responding to it.
Dean clears his throat, stepping closer, and slaps a hand down heavily onto Jack’s shoulder. “We would’ve waited for you, of course. But everything happened so fast, and it kinda felt right in that moment. To make a cake. And celebrate.”
Castiel nods stiffly. “Of course. I understand.” He shuffles in place. Fingers drag over the edge of the table, as if they could somehow collect icing from the long-since eaten cake. 
Sam coughs, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.
Castiel smiles again, nods again. Tries again to convince them that he’s fine. But before Dean even has a chance to wonder what’s the matter, Castiel looks over to Sam and says, brusque, “I found a lead on Amara’s whereabouts.”
So that’s the end of that.
---
It’s a couple days later when Dean finally has a spare moment alone with Castiel, a chance to follow him into the archive room and corner him for questioning.
“C’mon,” Dean says, tugging Castiel’s sleeve to turn him around. “Something’s bugging you. Would’ve thought you’d be happy we—uh. We’re on good terms with Jack again.”
Just saying it aloud is enough to clear the storm brewing on Castiel’s brow. Judging by the way his stooped posture straightens, it’s been a worry Castiel has been carrying for some time now—one that’s been lightened by a bit of poorly-frosted birthday cake. “I am glad. Believe me. Even Sam made a point of telling me how proud he was of you for making that gesture to Jack.”
Dean frowns a bit. “Why’d he be proud? I mean, we threw him a party too. Not like Sammy’s got a lockdown on birthday bashes.”
Castiel sighs, replacing the lid on the storage box he’d been digging through. “Because I died the day Jack was born.”
A rock plummets in Dean’s gut. “Oh.” He knew that, just—somehow, he’d forgotten. Something impossible to forget.
“Mm-hmm.” Castiel brushes his hands together, gently sifting dust from his fingers. “He suspected it might be a tender point for you. That you might not want to—anyway.” Castiel stiffens. “The point is I’m glad you celebrated him.”
“So why’re you so mad?” Dean blurts, even though it’s inaccurate. Castiel doesn’t seem pissed that Dean was nice to the kid, he’s just…
Castiel sighs. “I’m not angry. I’m disappointed.”
Dean frowns. “Disappointed?”
“That I wasn’t there.” Castiel’s expression falls as he says it, puddling into a pout. Dean would say it’s cute if Castiel didn’t look so crestfallen, crushed by missing Jack’s first birthday… Well no, their son’s first birthday celebration.
“Shit,” Dean says. “I didn’t even think you’d—shit. I’m sorry.”
Castiel sighs again. “No, don’t—it’s fine.” He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m just glad you would do that for him.”
“We could do it again,” Dean says eagerly. “Make another cake, put a second candle on it. Catch Jack up to his actual calendar year.”
“No, it would only... cheapen it.” Castiel’s mouth twitches down. “He would know you were doing it more for me than for him.” 
“Hey.” Dean steps in. With an inward delight, he says, “If you want a party, we could, uh. We could throw you a birthday party instead.”
“Me?” Castiel balks.
Dean laughs. “Sure. You don’t have an actual day, right? So pick one. We’ll make a cake.”
Castiel’s glower returns in top fighting form. “We are not celebrating my ‘birthday’.”
Laughing, Dean closes his hands over the finger-quotes Castiel instinctively made. “C’mon. We can go out, buy five or six thousand candles—”
“Dean.”
“Light a fire hazard in the library—”
“Dean.”
“Burn the bunker down.” 
Castiel tugs to free his hands, even though they both know he’s strong enough to simply break Dean’s grip. Dean refuses to relent, however, and ends up being pulled into Castiel’s orbit, touching chest to chest. 
Castiel’s frown breaks fractionally at the sight of him, giving way to a crinkled smile that’s close enough to be captured in a kiss. 
Not that Dean could—that he ever would. But it’s enough to keep him laughing, buoyed by the giddy feeling of getting under Castiel’s skin in just the right way. It’s been too long since they’ve laughed together. Since he’s had Castiel smiling at him in a way that wasn’t tinged with regret. 
And Dean loves it. If he could keep it like this, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once Dean has calmed enough to catch his breath, Castiel asks, “So, for your birthday. Did you end up choosing a cake or a pie?”
“Ah.” Dean huffs a breath, shakes his head. “Nah, first we had Sam’s, and we didn’t have time after, so I—um. I didn’t end up having a party at all.”
“You didn’t?” If anything, Castiel sounds more heartbroken now than he did upon learning he missed Jack’s birthday. 
Dean shrugs, feigning a punch to Castiel’s shoulder in order to cover how his back bristles. “I mean, if anyone besides you is in the running for too many candles, it’s me.”
“Dean,” Castiel grumps.
“Cas,” Dean snarks back. 
Castiel gives that look again, the one that makes a home in Dean’s heart with more fondness than he could ever hope to express.
It’s too gentle on him; Dean has to look away. “It’s—fine. Really. Just think about it. Who’d’ve made the cake—Jack? Sam?” He tuts. “I’d end up with some lousy carrot cake just so he could sneak some vegetables in.”
“What kind of cake would you like, then?” Castiel asks, quiet.
Dean looks at him, shrewd. “No cake.”
“So a pie?”
“No pie,” Dean insists. “No birthday.”
Castiel makes a noise in his throat, something Dean doesn’t trust to listen to him. Castiel packs up quickly from the archives, leaving Dean scrambling, shouting, “No birthday!” in his wake.
No birthday. Dean doesn’t need another reminder how the days are getting away from them. He just needs the present, one moment laid out after the next one, in order to live a life without further regrets.
---
Somehow Castiel pulls a fast one on him anyways, tugging Dean into the kitchen on a night when they’re alone in the bunker, Jack in his room at the same time Sam is out on another date with Eileen.
Castiel tells Dean to close his eyes, and ends up wrapping the kitchen apron around Dean’s head when he refuses to do so. They stumble over each other’s feet until Dean bumps his way into the kitchen, hands resting on the stainless steel island between him and the sink.
“Alright, you can open them now,” Castiel says, like Dean has no idea what’s coming to him, even though the scent of freshly baked pastry hangs like clouds in the air.
Dean pulls off the apron, shucks it aside to find the kitchen neatly decorated with streamers and a line of paper letters on a string proclaiming “Happy Birthday”. A two-layered chocolate cake sits atop a silver serving tray. Next to it is a fork and a knife with a paper napkin, the stack of which is tucked in neatly beside a freshly-baked apple pie steaming in a glass pie plate.
“You never gave your preference,” Castiel says. “So I got you both.”
“Sonofabitch,” Dean breathes, staring at the sugary feast. He flicks his gaze toward Castiel, uncomprehending. “You made these yourself?”
“Kind of.” Castiel awkwardly adjusts his footing. “Crack an egg. Open a tin can. Unpack the pie crust.” To the cake, he says, “Spread an entire jar of icing over a mound of spongy chocolate.” 
Dean laughs, watching as Castiel pulls a generous pre-cut piece of cake and pie onto a paper plate. He ushers Dean over to the dining table, adding, “I hope I did okay,” as he hands Dean the cutlery, watching nervously as Dean tucks in for his first bite.
“Are you kidding me?” Dean says, grinning up at him around a chocolate mouthful. “You did great, just… why?”
Castiel frowns, puzzled. “For your birthday.”
Dean inhales sharply. The cake tastes like it’s been baked exactly how the side of the box describes it should be baked—and yet it’s somehow extra delicious from the effort being made. He wipes his mouth, puts his fork down. “You didn’t need to—I didn’t need you to do that for me.”
“I know,” Castiel says, irritatingly calm. “I wanted to. To celebrate… you.” 
He motions broadly over Dean, catching the entirety of him in the gesture, and that soft spot in Dean’s chest throbs at the sight of Castiel, squeezing his breath out of rhythm. He wants to brush it off, treat Castiel’s celebration like it’s nothing. But if there’s one thing he’s learned lately, it’s that he’s got to appreciate the life he has around him. If they don’t take the time here and now to care for each other, then what has this all even been about?
“Thank you,” Dean says instead, reaching for Castiel. He brushes a hand down Castiel’s sleeve, squeezing. Allows his hand to travel lower, seizing his palm in a tight grip, hoping it might say what all cannot be said. “Thank you.”
Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand in return, muscles flexing like he doesn’t know how long he ought to hold on. Dean’s almost disappointed when Castiel lets go, allowing him to return to his fork and his plate of desserts. 
But then Castiel’s hand brushes up along the plane of Dean’s back, fingertips scrubbing over ribs and muscles and bone before settling gently at the top of Dean’s spine. Dean involuntarily shivers at the feel of him, the fingers brushing over his scalp. Through his hair. It’s been so long since he’s been touched by Castiel in the way he always wants it. In any way that matters.
Castiel has to know. He has to know how this last fight—this last makeup—is different, somehow. They’re different. A bond has been remade in Purgatory, never to be broken again.
It’s been years and Dean still doesn’t know how to say it. Maybe he’ll never know how. But action… Action is better than words anyhow. Dean knows how to make a gesture, even if he doesn’t know how to accept it.
Dean leans into the hand Castiel has set to sifting through his hair. His body twists in its seat, moving until Castiel is close—closer. He slings an arm around Castiel’s hip, pulls him down. Hauls him between the open vee of his legs until Castiel can only sit on Dean’s thigh.
So he does. Castiel comes to rest alongside Dean’s body, an arm wrapped around Dean’s shoulders for balance. He’s warm—aligned with Dean, perfectly. Close in ways that Dean has never allowed anyone—anyone—to be with him.
Dean keeps his hand slung around Castiel’s waist, holding him near, even as the proximity means he has to switch hands in order to keep eating pie and cake. Castiel takes it all in stride, in that quiet way he has of observing Dean and enjoying him, even when Dean loads up a forkful of cake and insists Castiel take a bite.
“Gotta know if your handiwork is any good,” Dean gives as his excuse for making Castiel eat it. Tipping his head against Castiel’s shoulder, Dean watches as Castiel thoughtfully chews his way through the cake, then the pie. No commentary given, just the two of them communicating by touch and sight.
It might not be his real birthday, but it’s the best gift Dean’s ever been given. Perfect enough that he doesn’t even startle when the quiet in the kitchen is broken by Jack.
“There’s another cake?” Jack exclaims, excited enough that Dean can hear it in his voice, even though he can’t see him.
Castiel makes to stand, ready to step back, but Dean keeps his arm tight on his waist and just swivels them around. They’re angled enough that Dean can now see Jack, oblivious, reaching for a slice of cake.
“Hey,” Dean barks. “It’s too late at night for you to be eating sweets.”
Jack stares at him, disbelieving. His gaze shifts implacably over Castiel, then Dean, then the empty paper plate. Dean braces for some comment about how they’re holding onto each other, but Jack just says, “There’s no candles.”
“What?” Dean asks, at the same time as Cas, sighing, says, “Don’t start on the candles. It’s a very touchy subject.”
“But—your birthday wish,” Jack says. “You didn’t make one.”
“Oh.” Dean glances up at Castiel, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him.  Close enough to kiss. 
He thinks briefly of his brother, out on a date of his own. Of their communal kid, accepting them with a complete lack of judgment. 
Dean scrunches his nose, shakes his head. “Don’t need to make one. I already got everything I want.” 
---
[leave a comment/kudos on AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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the home we make together [10/11]
❄ domestic deancas bodysharing for the holidays ❄ updates every three days ❄ Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays Chapter 10 Excerpt:
Cas makes a low noise, his hand coming up to Dean’s cheek. “Another storm blew through last night. I need you to shovel the lane.”
“Me,” Dean repeats. “Not ‘we’.”
Cas nods. “Please.”
“Why? You’re the one with the super-strength.”
“Because I want to surprise you with something.” [START FROM THE BEGINNING] [READ CHAPTER 10 ON AO3]
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vaudelin · 2 years
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the home we make together [7/11]
❄ domestic deancas bodysharing for the holidays ❄ updates every three days ❄ Tags: Canon Divergent, Post-Canon/Post-s15e19 Inherit the Earth, POV Dean Winchester, Baby Jack Kline, Bodysharing/Consensual Possession, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Winter Holidays Chapter 7 Excerpt:
Dean scrubs a hand over his face, taking a moment to collect himself. Forced calm, he pats the kid on his back and says with finality, “C’mon, Golby. We gotta go.”
“No,” Jack screams. “I want to stay home with Papa!”
“I know, buddy, but you know it doesn’t work like that.” Dean picks Jack up, eyes shut against the contorted face now wailing directly in his ear. “Get dressed, then you gotta go.”
Jack fights with ineffectual fists pounding on Dean’s back, his neck. En route to the bedroom, his frustration abruptly bubbles over: the kid smacks a hand over Dean’s face and screams for his papa, his eyes glowing a severe gold.
Several things happen at once:
First, Dean experiences what can best be described as a third-degree sunburn rapidly blooming over his entire body, followed immediately by a feeling like his skin is being peeled off in one thick sheet.
Second, Dean stumbles backward, thrown suddenly off-kilter, like fifty pounds of feral chimpanzee just jumped onto his back.
And third, Cas gasps so loudly inside of Dean’s head that every window in the house rattles, and even their breakfast dishes vibrate on the counter, threatening to shatter.
Dean blinks, and his depth perception seems weirdly askew, like his eyes are a different distance apart.
“Jack,” Cas says calmly, “what did you do?”
[START FROM THE BEGINNING] [READ CHAPTER 7 ON AO3]
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vaudelin · 4 years
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twelve omens
15x18 SPOILERS. coda. deancas reunion. dean’s grief and the final confrontation with God. 6,600 wc. [read on AO3]
for @achengeli
I. knife
Shock carries Dean through the archive room, dragging his crumpled body up from its spot on the floor. Billie may be gone, her influence over him removed, but it still feels like his chest is being torn open, heart crushed, bones run over, body being ripped to shreds— 
Dean started this whole nightmare. This relentless pursuit of Chuck. So it’s all on him. He fucked up, got mad, and got messy. But he was supposed to end it, too, supposed to have the chance to get out a knife or a gun or whatever was needed to tidy up his fuck-ups. 
But all he got instead was Cas dead. 
Cas is—
Oh, fuck, he’s...
Dean shudders, some panicked, slippery thing crawling up inside of him, driving him to look back at the space he just departed. Look at the wall where the Empty emerged, where it had poured out and sank like a blade into Cas’ chest. Look to where he had almost missed Cas’ parting glance—that quavering smile—to where Dean has been glancing compulsively, just hoping Cas might return. Look to confirm that yes, Cas is gone, and no, Dean will never see him again. 
He won’t ever see him again.
And Cas said—that. All of that. To him. All while knowing he would never see Dean again.
The one thing I want—it’s something I know I can’t have.
Dean shuts his eyes, wrenches his face aside. Skitters away from the chasm now yawning inside of him, shuddering open the instant Cas took hold of this thing between them, took it from the dark and held it, crying, out in the open air. 
Look, Dean. Look at what we could have been.
[continue reading on AO3]
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vaudelin · 4 years
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heaven, reconstructed by vaudelin (Teen, 9200 wc)
Pairings: Dean/Castiel Tags: Canon Compliant, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, POV Castiel, Fixing Heaven, Longing, Happy Ending 
The chorus shifts uncomfortably, already filled with doubt. Castiel recognizes that feeling; he knows how it eats through the insides of every creature, tempting it to give in without making an attempt.
He feels it too, but—
Jack believes they are capable of doing this.
Castiel chooses to believe him too.
A/N: I love that heaven is now an open sandbox instead of memory loops, but there are little details about heaven that snag me—John living down the road from Dean; the idea that everything is always perfect. I wanted to play in this sandbox, while also addressing the threads the finale didn't tie up neatly: Cas' absence; Ruby's plea for help; Dean's small funeral; why Cas didn't rush to see Dean as soon as he arrived in heaven.
Hopefully this coda will help those fans who maybe snagged on these same things 💙💚
[continue reading on AO3]
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vaudelin · 4 years
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a world well done by vaudelin (Mature; ~54k length)
Pairings: Dean/Castiel Tags: Office AU, POV Dean Winchester, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Build, Office Politics, Misunderstandings & Miscommunication
After five years of being overlooked for the job title of his dreams, Dean has grown accustomed to his fair share of disappointment. But the guy who got the position, a nepotistic hire named Castiel Novak, is really pushing the boundaries of his patience.
Too bad the guy’s a dud, but the legacy project has survived worse. Castiel can be as antisocial as he wants and hide out in his office all he likes; Dean will just batten down the hatches and ensure his team weathers the storm coming their way.
now complete on AO3
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vaudelin · 4 years
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a world well done by vaudelin (Mature; ~50k length)
Pairings: Dean/Castiel; side Sam/Eileen Tags: Office AU, POV Dean Winchester, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Build, Office Politics, Misunderstandings & Miscommunication
After five years of being overlooked for the job title of his dreams, Dean has grown accustomed to his fair share of disappointment. But the guy who got the position, a nepotistic hire named Castiel Novak, is really pushing the boundaries of his patience.
Too bad the guy’s a dud, but the legacy project has survived worse. Dean can push down the disappointment of his failed promotion enough that it won’t distract him from his duties.
Dean will batten down the hatches and ensure his team weathers the shitstorm coming their way.
updates weekly on AO3
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vaudelin · 5 years
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Title: a tale that can’t be told Author: vaudelin Rating: Mature Length: 9,000 words Pairings: Dean/Castiel Tags: Canon Divergence, Coda fic, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Episode: s15e06 Golden Time, Castiel Losing His Powers, Human Castiel, Temporary Amnesia, Memory Loss, Dean Has to Use His Words, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, Castiel's Missing Brown Truck, Alternate Season/Series 15, Getting Together, Masturbation, Sharing a Bed
Black leather and oil scent the air around him, a welcome change from antiseptics.
Impala, Castiel thinks. Baby. Except he’s not allowed to call her that.
A flash of brown panelling slides through his memory, rattling on a rusted truck bed with wood for bed rails.
Outside the car, the brothers are quietly arguing. Castiel cranes to listen, but he only picks out a partial phrase from Sam:
Since when was he losing his powers?
The snippet from Dean is even more troubling:
Is Chuck fucking with us by giving him a factory reset?
A birthday fic for @remmyme​ XOXOXO hun ily
(read it on AO3)
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