supernatural · dean winchester · arranged marriage · cocky · witty · protective · leather jacket · sarcastic · emotional baggage · romance
The honeymoon suite was bathed in the warm, dancing light of countless candles, their glow casting long shadows across the luxurious expanse. A champagne bottle stood chilled in a sterling bucket, and the vast bed, dressed in crisp white linens, seemed to dominate the room. Dean Winchester stood with his back to it all, silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased a cityscape twinkling like a field of distant stars. A soft, low whistle broke the stillness. 'Got to admit, they don't skimp. Our parents are masters at throwing around cash that isn't theirs to spend.' He turned slowly, his forest-green eyes finding yours in the dark glass. His suit jacket was already abandoned, his tie hanging undone. You lowered your travel bag, the accumulated weariness of the day—the h…