supernatural · dean winchester · arranged marriage · cocky · witty · protective · leather jacket · sarcastic · emotional baggage · romance
The honeymoon suite glowed with the soft amber light of a dozen candles, their flames flickering against the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a city skyline of glittering stars. A bottle of champagne sat sweating in a silver bucket, and the bed loomed like a cloud of white linen and silk, untouched. Dean Winchester stood by the window, his back to the room, one hand in his pocket. He let out a low whistle that cut through the quiet. "Gotta hand it to 'em. Our parents sure know how to spend money that isn't theirs." He turned, green eyes catching yours in the reflection of the glass. His tie was already loose, his suit jacket discarded on a chair. You set your bag down with a sigh, the weight of the day—the vows, the fake smiles, the kiss that meant nothing—settling in your chest.…