#Destiel oneshot

[the-rad-pineapple]

dean needs cas so badly it's not even funny

ao3

words: 3.7k

They got Cas back.

Jack and Amara had been working on fixing things. Jack said he wants to give up his God powers after they finish fixing the universe. He doesn’t think anyone should have that much power. Dean agrees. Amara is still…whatever she is, but she doesn’t want to get involved. Dean thinks she never has.

On Jack’s last day with his God powers, he and Amara bring Cas back.

And everything should be perfect. Except it isn’t. Dean is still a complete mess, and he was so drunk when Cas came back that he thought he made it up. But Cas is still there the next day. Glued to Jack’s side. How it should be.

And since Dean’s a mature adult with numerous apocalypses under his belt, he handles the situation by entirely avoiding Cas. And it works for a bit. Jack catches Cas up on everything. Hell, there’s a good three weeks where Sam doesn’t leave Cas’ side either. Sometimes Dean forgets how close his brother and Cas are. Dean should’ve been there for Sam. God. He should’ve been there for Jack. But he hadn’t been. He’d been keeping company with whiskey and Netflix. Still is most days. He’s sort of fallen into this hole and doesn't know how to get out. Well, he does. He can ask Sam for help. Sam wants to help him. He only stopped when every interaction he had with Dean turned into a drunken fight. Somehow Dean is just like his father. But Dean doesn’t want to ask for help now. Not when Sam seems to be doing better. Eileen is always over, and she brightens Sam in ways Dean never has. And Cas and Jack have each other. Dean can’t ruin them more than he already has for asking them to clean up his mess. He also overheard them talking about finding a house one night. He drank so hard he threw up for the first time in weeks after hearing that.

Dean hasn’t had a whole lot to drink today. Just a few beers in the morning. He’s decided to deep-clean the bunker since his thoughts are getting louder now that Cas is back. He can’t stand the notion of once having Cas feel the way he’s always wanted without knowing it to going how it is now; they hardly even see each other, and Dean knows Cas doesn’t feel that way anymore. How could he?

Dean’s taken out the racks from the oven and is furiously scrubbing them in the sink. He’s focusing so hard on the task he doesn’t hear Cas until he says,

“Dean?”

Dean doesn’t stop scrubbing even though his heart has jumped into his throat. “Yeah?” His voice is rough from disuse.

“What are you doing?”

Dean rolls his eyes and forces himself to be annoyed. If he allows himself to feel anything else, he thinks he might break. “What does it look like?” he spits out. He wants Cas to go away. He just wants to be left alone. He should’ve had more to drink.

“It appears that you’re cleaning the kitchen at 2am.”

2am? That can’t be right. Dean just woke up a couple hours ago. He glances at the oven clock. 2:07am. Shit. It’s always been difficult to tell time in the bunker, and Dean’s sure all the alcohol hasn’t helped. He just didn’t realize it was this bad.

“Dean,” Cas says softly. He sounds so fucking concerned. It makes Dean’s insides squirm. He doesn’t deserve his concern. He doesn’t even come close to deserving it.

“What.” Dean resumes scrubbing. He hears Cas approach. A few footsteps, and then the angel is standing next to him in his periphery. Dean ignores him and scrubs harder, willing him to go away.

“Dean.” Cas puts a hand on Dean’s right arm.

Dean freezes. He stares at Cas’ hand. He’s gripping Dean gently. He feels so warm and firm. Dean’s hardly looked at Cas since he got back. He hasn’t let himself. He just can’t— Heat builds behind Dean’s eyes, and he’s squeezing them closed to stop the sudden tears from falling down his face.

“Oh, Dean.”

Cas tugs on Dean’s arm, and Dean drops the sponge and the oven rack. The rack loudly clatters into the sink. Cas tugs again, and Dean lets himself be moved. Cas pulls him close. There’s a second where he pauses, and the air is filled with tension. Dean still hasn’t looked up at his face yet. Then Cas is hugging him. Strong arms holding Dean close, pressing Dean into his chest; Dean’s enveloped in Cas’ warmth.

A mangled sob makes its way out of Dean’s throat. He feels stripped bare. He closes his eyes and hugs Cas back. He holds onto him as tightly as he can. He buries his face in Cas’ shoulder to hide his tears as if Cas doesn’t know he’s crying.

And Cas just holds him. Lets him cry.

Dean cries so hard he shakes. He soaks the shoulder of that damn trenchcoat with his tears. He’s so fucking embarassed. Cas should’ve just left him alone. He deserves to be alone.

Eventually, his sobs lessen.

“Dean,” Cas says gently. “What’s going on?”

Dean tenses. “W-what do you mean what’s going on?” It’s louder and more hysterical than he means it to sound. His emotions flow easily. Lubricated by the alcohol. They leak out of him. He can’t seem to rein them in no matter how hard he’s trying. “You—” He has to gasp for a breath because he’s still fucking crying. “You were dead, Cas. You were fucking dead.” More tears stream down his cheeks. Dean is glad Cas can’t see his face. “I—” Dean swallows. Weakly, hardly above a whisper, “It all means nothing when you’re gone.”

Dean feels Cas’ breath hitch. Then one of his arms moves. He’s petting the hair on the back of Dean’s head.

Cas murmurs, “This can’t be just for me. What else is going on?”

“No, you don’t—” Dean pulls back to look Cas in the eyes for the first time. He doesn’t know how he looks. Probably disheveled and deranged. Broken. “You don’t get it. This is all because of you. Cas, I— You’re it for me, okay? I—when you’re gone I just can’t. I can’t. You—you’re…” And Dean doesn’t know what he’s saying. He just knows he’s feeling too much. He’s always been terrible at articulating his feelings with words. He can’t even begin to describe his feelings about Cas. They’re too much. They have to be ignored, because Dean can’t handle them. He can’t do this.

Cas is staring at him too intently. He says, “I can’t mean this much to you.”

“You mean everything to me.”

Dean doesn't feel like he’s a part of his body anymore. None of this feels real. Nothing has felt real since Cas’ death. He’s been ignoring and pushing down so much, and now it feels like it’s all erupting out of him. He doesn’t—he can’t—there’s too much. He just…he needs…

“I need you.” Dean doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Or if he even said that out loud.

Cas cups his face. The touch grounds him, and Dean feels like he’s back in the present. His mind isn’t drifting away like before. Dean grabs onto Cas’ arms like a lifeline. He’s breathing heavily.

Cas strokes his thumbs over Dean’s cheeks. He’s looking at Dean like he’s something to marvel at. Which he isn’t. Especially by Cas. Dean’s starting to feel overwhelmed again, but then Cas says, “I’m here, Dean. I’m right here. It’s alright.”

Dean can only nod. His throat is too tight. He swallows, but it doesn’t help.

“Have you had anything to eat?”

Dean shakes his head.

“Alright.” Cas starts to pull away, but Dean’s still gripping his arms. He pulls Cas back. Cas blinks. Then stares. He studies Dean. Then, gently, “Alright. I understand.” He shifts his arms. Grabs one of Dean’s hands, and wraps Dean’s arm around his as if he’s escorting Dean to a dance. Dean latches onto him. Cas places his other hand on top of Dean’s. Then he leads them over to the pantry.

Dean is exhausted. He feels as if he’s floating, and Cas is the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. He stares at Cas’ hands as he opens the pantry and grabs some bread. Then he stares at Cas’ face. Cas looks just like he did the day he died.

“Missed you,” Dean finds himself saying.

Cas meets his gaze. His eyes are warm. “Yes, I think I’m starting to get that.” His face flashes something sad just for a moment. He squeezes Dean’s hand. “I missed you too.”

And just like that, tears are welling up in Dean’s eyes again. He looks at the floor.

Cas finishes making a sandwich. Then he grabs a cup from one of the cabinets and fills it with water. Dean is still clinging onto him. Cas grabs Dean’s arm and disentangles them. He immediately places a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He puts the glass of water in Dean’s right hand.

“Can you drink this?”

Dean nods. He puts the glass to his lips and drinks. The water is cold, and Dean can feel it running down through his body. He isn’t sure when he last had water. He finishes drinking, and Cas smiles at him. Dean’s heart flips.

Cas steps away to fill up the glass again and grab the sandwich. He goes to the table, and Dean follows. Cas pulls two chairs out and sits in one. Dean sits into the one next to him and scoots as close as he can. Their knees touch. Cas slides the sandwich over to Dean. He doesn’t say anything before Dean picks it up and starts to eat it. Dean can feel Cas’ eyes on him.

Neither of them say anything as Dean finishes his sandwich. Once he’s done, Cas scoots the glass of water in his direction. Dean drinks it. He can’t look Cas in the eyes again. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s feeling. Guilt, mostly, amongst many, many other things. Cas shouldn’t have to do this. Dean is a goddamn adult and should be able to take care of himself. He shouldn’t be putting Cas through this.

When Dean sets his empty glass down, Cas takes it and the plate over to the sink. He begins to wash them.

Dean jumps up and immediately heads for the sink. “Cas, don’t. I can do it.”

“I know you can, Dean.”

Dean stands next to Cas and reaches for the dishes.

“Dean.”

Dean instinctively meets Cas’ eyes.

Cas stares at him. Into him. “Let me do this. Please.”

Dean stares numbly back. Retracts his hands. Clears his throat. “Okay.”

Cas smiles. “Thank you.”

Dean looks at his shoes. He feels a headache coming. Probably from all that damn crying. It’s exhausted him too. “Think I’m gonna take a nap,” Dean says. He’ll probably just go to bed for the day. He finds it’s easier to drop off into hours of restless, dreamless sleep lately.

Cas stops washing the dishes, and Dean looks up. Cas asks, “Will you wait for me?”

Dean’s not entirely sure what Cas means, but he’ll do anything Cas wants. Dean nods. “Yeah.”

Cas smiles again. He finishes the dishes then links his arm with Dean’s like before. He leads them to Dean’s bedroom. And this is…oddly nice. Having Cas do everything. Even just walk Dean down the damn hall. Dean’s so entranced by it that he forgets what a mess his room is until Cas opens the door.

Dirty clothes cover every inch of the floor along with take-out boxes and bottles. The bottles are from all the beer, whiskey, and everything in between that Dean’s been drinking lately. It’s really fucking bad.

But Cas doesn’t even react. All he says is, “Would you prefer to sleep in my room?”

“Uh, sure, yeah.”

Cas closes Dean’s door. “We’ll clean that tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Then Cas is leading him down the hall again. They soon reach Cas’ room, and Cas opens the door, and they walk inside.

Cas’ room is bare except for a few knicknacks Jack’s given him that are on the desk. Cas leads Dean over to the bed.

“Sit,” Cas says.

Dean does.

Then Cas is kneeling in front of him, and Dean’s brain goes completely blank.

What the fuck is happening.

But then Cas is untying Dean’s boots, and Dean’s face heats up in shame.

Dean’s had his boots on ever since he went to the liquor store a couple days ago. He’s been sleeping in them. It’s surprisingly relieving when Cas takes them off. God. His feet probably stink.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles.

Cas looks up. He squeezes Dean's knee. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dean shuts his eyes. “Cas. You know I do.”

There’s a slight pause, and Dean opens his eyes.

“We’ll have that conversation another time,” Cas replies. Then Cas peels off Dean’s socks. He grabs Dean’s socks and boots and sets them on the floor by the desk. “May I take your pants off?”

Dean’s mouth goes completely dry, and his ears ring. “What?”

“I don’t understand how you and your brother find sleeping in jeans comfortable,” Cas explains.

Dean’s face goes red. Again. “Oh. Uh, I can do it.” He quickly stands and unzips his jeans and pulls them off. He stumbles a bit when he steps out of the legs, and then he’s left holding his pants. He stares at them stupidly.

Cas grabs them. Folds them. Puts them on the desk. He turns back and stares at Dean.

Intelligently, Dean says, “Um.”

“Do you want more blankets?”

Without looking at the bed, Dean says, “No, thanks.”

Cas’ gaze turns soft. He steps closer. He pulls the blankets over for Dean to climb into the bed. So Dean does. He pulls the covers over himself and then stares up at Cas. The light from the desk lamp is behind him, so all Dean can see is Cas’ silhouette.

Cas asks, “Would you like me to put you to sleep?”

Dean suddenly can’t find his voice. It’s trapped in his throat. He bites down his panic and shakes his head. He feels adrift from his body when he scoots over on the bed and opens the covers. He can only plead to Cas with his eyes.

Cas stares. And stares. And stares.

Dean fucked up.

But Cas is moving. Toeing off his shoes. Taking off his trenchcoat and the suit jacket. His tie. He places them all on the desk chair. Then he climbs into bed next to Dean and pulls the blankets to cover them both.

And Dean stares at him. They’re so fucking close. Dean can feel his warmth. See the different shades of blue in his eyes. He looks so good. They’re not close enough.

“Cas.” His voice still sounds rough. “I missed you so much.” His voice breaks.

Cas reaches for him, but Dean moves before Cas touches him. He lays his head on Cas’ chest. Wraps his arms around his torso. He tangles their legs together, and just presses into him. He drinks in Cas’ warmth. His scent. Tries to memorize how his body feels. Strong but not hard. Soft but not weak.

Dean still isn’t close enough and shifts so his head rests in the crook of Cas’ neck. He closes his eyes and pushes into Cas’ skin with his cheek.

“I’m here, Dean,” Cas whispers into Dean’s hair. “I’m here.”

And Dean whimpers.

Cas slides his hands up and down Dean’s back in slow, comforting movements. Dean focuses on it. Lets himself get lost in it. He feels the tension he’s been holding in him since Cas died slowly melt away.

Dean loves him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The bedroom door slams open.

“Cas!” Sam. He sounds desperate. “It’s Dean. I can’t fin—”

Dean turns over on his stomach and puts a pillow over his head. It’s too bright. And loud. And he’s so, so sweaty. His mouth is dry. God. He must have a hangover. But…no. Oh. Withdrawal.

Dean hears Sam and Cas’ muffled voices for a few moments. Then the door closes. Cas shifts beside him, and Dean braces himself for when Cas leaves. But he doesn’t. Instead, Dean feels one of Cas’ hands on his back. Something tugs on Dean’s pillow, and he reluctantly lets it go. He keeps his eyes closed though.

“Dean.”

“Mmmrrf.”

A hand on his shoulder. “Let me see you. Please. I believe you’re experiencing withdrawal symptoms.”

Dean groans. “Let me suffer in peace.”

Cas sighs. “I would like to heal you.”

Dean freezes. No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t deserve it. Not after everything Cas has done for him. Not after everything Dean has done since his death. No way.

“Please,” Cas whispers. And, god. It sounds like he needs it. Dean thinks back to last night. Maybe he does.

Dean turns over on his back and squints. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you.” And, dammit, Cas sounds relieved.

But then Cas’ hands are on his face, gently cradling him. Dean’s eyes snap wide open. Then Cas leans down, carefully, and places a light kiss onto Dean’s forehead.

The world snaps into sobriety.

Dean gasps and blinks. Oh. Oh, shit. It’s a lot clearer now. He can feel the sweat on his skin. The springs in the mattress. How oily his hair has gotten. How thirsty he is. And he’s a lot more aware. His thoughts string together easily, and he can feel himself locking down his emotions, shoving them away. Dean knew he was drunk most of the time, but shit.

Cas is staring down at him. His blue eyes uncertain.

Dean must fix it. So, stupidly, he says, “Not there.”

Cas opens his mouth. Blinks. Tilts his head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Dean taps his lips. Waits. Stares. His heart is beating so fucking fiercely. He thinks his hands are shaking.

“Dean, I—what… Are you asking me to kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers breathily. 

Now Cas stares.

Dean’s blood runs cold. This is exactly why he hates sobriety. Of course Cas isn’t going to kiss him. What the hell had he been thinking? Cas doesn’t feel that way anymore. How could Dean let himself forget that? How could he let himself hope for something so unattainable? Cas would never want to—

Cas is cupping his face again. His gaze dips to Dean’s lips then back up to his eyes.

“Cas, please.” Dean doesn’t think he’s ever sounded so desperate.

“You want this.” Cas seems astonished at his statement.

“Well, duh.” Dean’s face grows hot.

Cas’ eyes widen. “You want me.” And the way Cas fucking says that…

“Cas.”

Cas leans down again. Pauses right before their lips touch. But Dean’s done waiting. He wraps his hands around Cas’ neck and leans into him.

Dean’s light at first. Barely brushing their lips together. Then Cas presses in for more, and Dean opens for him. Their lips slide together, and Dean can’t stop the quiet whimpers that escape from somewhere deep within him. He slides his hands up into Cas’ hair. God. The amount of times he’s wanted to do this exact thing. And Cas seems to like it too because he presses his body closer. Parting Dean’s knees and sliding between them. Dean pulls. He needs to feel Cas’ weight on him. Cas complies and presses into him, but he never breaks their kiss. His body is a reassuring, warm weight on top of Dean. Better than Dean’s ever dreamed. Cas’ tongue lightly passes over Dean’s bottom lip. Dean whines and tugs Cas’ hair. Cas slips his tongue into Dean’s mouth, and Dean loses it. He’s grabbing Cas everywhere he can. His hair, the front of his shirt, his waist. Trying to pull him closer. He grabs one of the hands Cas has on his chest and slides it under his shirt. Cas’ breath stutters.

“M-more,” Dean pleads. “Closer. Cas.”

Cas shoves both hands under Dean’s shirt. His warm hands touch everywhere they can. Up Dean’s chest. Along his sides. Over the softness of his middle. Dean whines again, and Cas’ tongue is back in his mouth.

Then Cas is pulling away.

Fear strikes sharply through Dean. Paralyzing. Did Cas not want this? Did Dean seriously fuck this up? Did he just ruin everything? Dean blinks up at Cas, holding his breath. His heartbeat thunders in his ears.

Cas cups his face again. “Dean.” His voice is even lower than usual. And his hair is disheveled. His eyes are blown dark. His lips are wet.

Shit.

Dean did that.

Shit.

“I—” Cas begins breathlessly. He swallows. “I needed to slow down before—before I…”

“You can have whatever you want, Cas.”

Cas’ cheeks turn pink, and he looks away. He tries to bite back a smile. He looks down at Dean again. “Thank you, Dean. I…I just think we need to talk first.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Or not,” Dean quickly answers. “We can let our bodies do the talking.”

“I believe we just did.” But Cas’ gaze softens. He leans down again. Kisses Dean quickly. Once. Twice. Three times before pulling back again. Breathlessly, “You are so beautiful.”

Dean feels himself blush and looks away. “Cas, c’mon.”

“I’m serious. You are so beautiful, Dean.”

Dean huffs and looks back up. But he stills when he sees Cas’ expression. Cas is staring down at him intensely. Open. Vulnerable. There is heat behind his gaze. But also a softness. A fondness.

Love.

Dean feels as if he’s been punched in the gut. “I never said it back,” he says weakly.

Cas’ brow furrows. “Said what back?”

Dean swallows. Licks his lips. “I love you too.”

Dean only has a second to register Cas is moving before their lips meet again.

[ghost-facer]

Dean isn’t exactly sure why he kisses Cas. He’s been trying to keep that shit in. Besides, it’s not his fault the angel is so damn irresistible. This would happen to anyone.

The Hunt had been a rare easy one. Spirits are high. They’re in the Impala in a McDonald’s parking lot. They’re waiting on Sam and Jack to come back with the food. It’s just past 2am, and there’s only 3 other cars in the lot with them. Big flakes of snow are beginning to fall, twisting and spinning in the streetlights. It’s sticking, and the dark parking lot begins to be covered in white. The world feels empty and small. It’s peaceful.

Dean feels like he’s where he’s supposed to be.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Cas is staring contentedly out the windshield. His shoulders are relaxed and his back is fully resting against the seat. Dean follows his gaze, and he’s looking at Jack through the glass doors. An unexpected strong happiness strikes through Dean. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have this—to have a family. He’s the least deserving of it, but he’s wanted this so badly for as long as he can remember.

When he looks back at Cas, Cas is already staring at him. His expression is soft and fond and a little wistful. His eyes are shining while he wears one of his rare small smiles.

He’s breathtaking.

They’re close. It somehow feels closer than usual. Dean can feel the heat of Cas right next to him. The angel’s lips are right there. How is Dean supposed to resist?

So he doesn’t. He leans into the small space between them and brushes his lips against Cas’.

And then Dean’s brain catches up to him, and he pulls away just as he feels Cas’ stuttered breath ghosting across his own lips. But he doesn’t get far because Cas chases after him. One of his hands cups the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean helplessly leans forward.

Cas is ready for him this time. His lips are open and wet. Their lips slide against each other, and Dean grabs Cas’ lapels to try and pull him impossibly closer. Cas’ hand on Dean’s neck moves up and tangles in his hair.

Dean’s never had a kiss like this. He’s never kissed someone he’s loved this much.

It’s timeless. He doesn’t know how much time has passed. He becomes lost in the taste and feel of Cas. Dean eventually has to pull back for air, but he feels the remainder of his breath leave him when he looks at Cas.

Cas’ hand moves out of his hair to press his palm on Dean’s cheek. He’s looking at Dean like…like…like he lo—

Heat builds behind Dean’s eyes, and he has to look away. He’s not about to cry after a single kiss. He swallows and blinks and then he’s locking eyes with someone.

Jack.

He’s still inside standing by the counter next to Sam waiting to get their order. Sam’s on his phone, his backed turned to Dean. But Jack. Oh, Jack definitely saw that. The kid is fucking beaming.

Dean says, voice hoarse, “Jack saw that.” He sees Cas turn out of the corner of his eye.

“O-oh.”

And, fuck, Cas sounds breathless.

From the kiss.

From Dean.

And it’s all a little much at once, and Dean can’t fight the random giggle that bubbles out of him.

“Dean?”

Dean hears himself say, “We kissed.” And then he’s blushing and ducking his head like he’s fucking fifteen. He chances a glance at Cas who’s grinning down at his hands in his lap, and his cheeks look just as pink as Dean’s feel.

Impulsively, Dean reaches over to squeeze one of Cas’ hands. Cas latches on, and Dean darts his eyes up to be greeted with Cas’ blue ones. He can’t stop smiling.

Then one of the back doors opens quickly followed by the other. The cold snowy air gets inside, and Sam is shoving Dean’s food up to him. He has to let Cas’ hand go to grab it. As he reaches for the food, he meets Jack’s eyes, and the kid shoots him the happiest grin. Dean can’t fight the responding blush and quickly grabs the food and turns back around.

The conversation begins again, but he and Cas keep shooting secret smiles at each other.

He may not know where this is going or exactly what it all means yet, but Dean is so fucking glad he kissed Cas.

[milfjensenackles]

happy november 5th eve to all who celebrate

three years later

read it on ao3 | 355 words

Dean wakes with a start, his breath heavy and hot on his tongue.

You changed me.

I love you.

Why does this sound like a goodbye?

Because it is.

It was just a nightmare, he reminds himself. He looks over to the other side of the bed. A sleeping Castiel snores softly, curled up on himself with a leg wrapped in the sheet. That shit drives Dean insane. The stupid angel always steals all the covers and then acts all innocent in the morning as though Dean wasn’t fighting within an inch of his life for a blanket just a few short hours ago. Dean smiles. He wouldn’t give it up for anything.

The nightmares have become fewer and far between over the years, but when they come, they come with a vengeance. Dean blindly grabs for his phone in the dark. 3:16 AM. November 5, 2023.

Ah. Makes sense.

It’s been three years since Castiel died. It’s been 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days since Castiel came back. Not that Dean is counting.

2 years, 5 months, and 4 days since Castiel appeared in a blaze of light in the bunker kitchen. 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days since Dean grabbed Castiel and never let go. 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days since Dean kissed Castiel for the first time, and wondered why he hadn’t been doing that the whole time.

Castiel stirs in his sleep. “Dean?” he mumbles. It sounds a little more like ‘Deeb’ than anything else. Dean chuckles and lays his phone back down on the nightstand before reaching over and wrapping Castiel up in his arms. Castiel settles back in, his head nestled between Dean’s cheek and shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Dean presses a soft kiss to Castiel’s forehead. “I’m okay, buddy. Just a nightmare.”

Cas looks up at him, only one eye open. “What about?”

“Nothing,” he replies, kissing Castiel soundly on the lips. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Dean is slowly lulled back to sleep by the sound of Castiel’s soft breathing. The nightmares might come again, but he doesn’t have to face them alone.  

[brainrotarchive]

happy pride month here is the fic I wrote 3 years ago about cas in the walmart pride suit lmao

[isthisimportant]

Frustration

Pairing: Dean X Castiel

A/N: Rewatched season 5. Felt things. Wrote this.

*~*~*~*

Dean grunted against Cass' lips. He shifted his weight so he was somehow on top of the desk they were making out so heavily against. Bobby and Sam were asleep but they were right in the next room. "Cass," he mumbled in between kisses, "maybe you wanna zap us someplace else?" Castiel merely grunted in response and tugged on Dean's shirt.

"Stop talking, Dean. I need to concentrate."

"Oh, yo-" Dean's sarcastic comment was cut off by the other snagging his bottom lip with their own.

They were just talking. Just talking. Something about the world ending. Not having any way to stop Michael and Lucifer's showdown. Dean being ready to accept Michael. But Cass wasn't having any of that. He was mad. He was frustrated. After all of the things he had done. He had risked. He had sacrificed. Dean was ready to throw it all away just because some old man in a wheelchair told him he was dead inside. And that he couldn't win. Why was Dean Winchester taking the words of that old man more seriously than the promise and sacrifice Castiel was offering him?

He had slammed Dean against the wall, threatening him with assault if he even thought about calling Michael. "I can read your mind, Dean. I hope you know that." He warned him.

Dean had smirked in response. "There's no hiding anything from you is there, big guy?" It was an empty flirt. He hadn't meant anything by it.

But Castiel took it seriously. "No. There isn't. Not even your darkest desires escape me, Dean." He walked towards the other menacingly, eyes that were usually bright blue, now grey, owing to the lack of light; fixated on Dean's forever green ones. "I see through you, Dean. I see through all of your masks and layers. I see inside you." He was merely inches away from Dean, having backed him into the desk.

Dean gulped, visibly a little uncomfortable. "Yeah okay, Sherlock, back off." He tried to make it sound threatening. But it came out too soft and needy. His eyes flitted to Cass' lips. Only for a second.

"Don't think I didn't catch that. I've noticed the way you look at me, Dean. I told you. I can read minds."

"What's that supposed to mean-" Dean was cut off by Castiel pressing his lips rather forcefully to Dean's. He slammed his hands on the desk behind them for support. Dean was trapped and he had no way of defending himself, except, to fight back.

And fight he did. At first, he was confused. Scared. Unsure. Cass was kissing him. A guy. But he, liked it? It felt good. Better, even, than most kisses he's had. He's never felt such strength in a kiss before. It only made him want to reciprocate. So, he mustered up all his force and thrust it into this.

They had been kissing for almost forever. It was like a new addiction. The first time you try something that you just couldn't let go of. Dean was addicted to Cass' lips. He didn't care how chapped they got. It was like he was tasting something he'd been denied his whole life. It was fast and alluring. He never wanted to stop. He never wanted Cass to remove his hands  that had grabbed his waist. He never wanted to stop tousling Cass' hair with his.

It was dark and private and intimate. Just the two of them. There was no one else in the world, let alone in that room. He was enveloped in Cass' being. Every sense of his was suffocated. He was thirsty and this was better than drink. Cass' tongue on his quenched a deep thirst and hunger he'd had for a long time. Almost eternity.

The lights came on with a clearing off a throat. Dean's eyes pried open and his pupils dilated, despite the sudden brightness in the atmosphere. He could sense his brother's eyes boring into the side of his skull.

"Dean", Sam's voice came, uncertain. Castiel pulled apart abruptly but still held his face as close to Dean's as possible. He wasn't done. But neither was Dean.

"Uh... Bobby's got something. If you two wanna..." Dean could feel Sam's uneasiness.

"Yeah, just... give us a minute, Sam." Dean whispered, his voice coarse and low. Sam nodded and left, not before closing the door.

"Cass, we should..", Dean began, only to be cut off, yet again, by Castiel kissing him.

"You frustrate me so, Dean Winchester."

[im-some-lionheart]

#Destielmonth22 Day 7: Decorate

(oh, my! Time is a lie! aka: shhh pretend it's still November and I know how to finish projects like a neurotypical person)

There are certain things that will make a man stop in his tracks and wonder what random decision taken recklessly years ago might have changed forever the course of his life and brought him... Here.

Apparently, what does it for Dean is opening the door for the underground bunker he calls a home (after inheriting it from the secret society his grandfather was a part of) and finding himself face to face with the white cluster of a fake spider web.

“What the...?”

His green, sniper trained, eyes flicker from the fake bats on the roof to the cut-outs of smiling white ghost, and land over the plastic jack-o-lantern glowing from the center of the dinner table. And. Yeah. Those are definitely Halloween decorations all over the Men Of Letters' bunker.

"Saaam? Cas?" he yells, absent-mindedly walking into the kitchen to leave the grocery bags he's still carrying on top of the counter.

When a good 30 seconds pass without an answer, he heads to the library. The hallway (naturally) is also cluttered with Party City's tackiest mummy-witch-Frankenstein banners.

When he reaches the library, he's met with the sight of his brother, his partner, and their collective son (it's complicated), sitting around the table, with painted fake scars on their faces.

“Um, hello?” he asks from the doorway, louder than necessary, to get their attention as he widely waves both of his hands at the sides of his face.

“Hi!” Jack smiles at him openly, with fake fangs on his teeth.

Cas turns around to face him, and his smile is softer, but his eyes light with it the way they usually do when he looks at Dean.

His angel's voice is a deep rumble that does things to Dean's body when he says, “Hello, Dean.”

He's not used to it yet. Being on the receiving end of such devotion can be overwhelming and Dean still has to actively remind himself that he deserves this. He gets to have this, gets to have Cas, that he's worthy of Cas' love, that good things do happen to him. And sometimes –not often, but each day a little bit more– he manages to convince himself of it.

“Hey.” is all Sam says, not even looking up from where he's sticking a prosthetic wound to Jack's hand, “did you get the Greek yogurt I like?”

“Yeah. Uhh...” Dean walks towards the table where his weird-ass family sits, frown still on his face and confused as he'll ever be, “Care to explain the...?” he gestures vaguely with his left hand, the right one easily settling on Cas' shoulder in front of him.

“It's Halloween!” Jack answers, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, no, I gathered that. But, um... Why?”

Sam shrugs, “Why not? We've never had a proper Halloween before.”

“Yeah, maybe because our whole lives are a Halloween special, like, all the time?”

“Come on, it's fun!”

“To turn the bunker into a haunted house?” he asks, eyebrows rising to meet his hairline.

“Dean.” Cas interjects, throwing his head back to look up at him, “We've been to haunted houses before, they look nothing like this.”

He rolls his eyes at Cas' Casness, and also at the fake wound and stitches on his left cheek.

“You look ridiculous, you know that? And don't encourage him!” he quips back, pointing a finger at Cas' face.

“Jack wanted to watch the Nightmare before Christmas tonight”, is what Cas says, instead of acknowledging Dean's words.

Slowly, he blinks up at Dean, toeing dangerously close to batting eyelashes territory, “I was thinking... ” he places a hand on top of Dean's where it rests on his shoulder and starts softly stroking at the knuckles, “We can make some popcorn and maybe bake a pumpkin pie later?”

And Dean snorts because he knows damn well that "we" actually means "you". But Cas is looking up at him with those impossibly deep eyes, and his eyebrows knit together and his lips slightly pursed. And. Yeah, that is definitely his puppy face. The bastard. He knows Dean can never say no to that face.

After a few seconds of holding onto that ocean blue stare, he sighs.

“Fine.” he says, dramatically rolling his eyes before bringing his head down to capture Cas' lips.

“Ugh. Get a room.”

And he can hear the smile in his brother's voice. But he still uses his free hand to throw Sam a middle finger, before bringing it to rest on Cas' jaw and deepening their Spiderman kiss.

“They have a room, though,” he hears Jack whisper, more to himself than anything.

But it's still enough to make Dean break the kiss and start laughing until his stomach hurts. Because. What the hell is his life. How did he end up on pie duty for a nephilim in an underground bunker covered in Halloween decorations.

He doesn't know. But Sam pats him on the back on his way to get the popcorn started, and Jack is thrilled about his cheap plastic fangs, and Cas' eyes crease at the corners when he smiles at him.

And all Dean can think is, whatever random decision he took on a whim years ago that brought him here... he sure as hell is thankful for it.

[agentzreads]

one shot -

Dean gets hit by an intoxication spell on a witch hunt and Cas, Sam, and Rowena have to save the day.

Dean is spell-drunk and sings karaoke, badly. He's an affectionate, babbling, drunk idiot who just wants to be near his angel always. And he has just the perfect song to make sure Cas understands.

[liron-ao3]

The Runaway

Teen & up / 1,350 words

Dean and Castiel had the worst fight of their marriage, and now, Dean has broken one of the basic rules of their relationship...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42769569

[dedicatedtocas]

I have started lately writing one shots about Destiel

So if some of you would be interested im @ DedicatedToCas on Wattpad, and probably soon on ao3 too 😋😋

[castielfanperson]

And So I Dream (Of You)

I wrote a lil supernatural oneshot if yall wanna read it.  It’s on wattpad because I’m still on the AO3 waiting list, but here’s the link if you guys are interested:  https://www.wattpad.com/1346536996-supernatural-oneshots-and-so-i-dream-of-you Synopsis: Dean hasn’t been able to sleep since Cas was taken by the Empty. And when he’s unfortunate enough to actually fall asleep, he’s plagued with nightmares. But this time, rather than watching Cas die in his dreams, he just sees Cas. Cas, who had projected his mind outside of the Empty, just to be able to say “Hello, Dean” one last time. 

[souporwholock]

[Sam, Dean and Cas are staying in some house temporarily while on a hunt]

Cas: There's a female woman at the door

Dean: (at Sam) Wh- why is he saying that? (Turns to Cas) Why are you saying that?

Cas looks at Dean blankly and motions to the door.

Sam looks at his watch as the doorbell rings.

Sam: Ooooh wait, that's probably for me.

Dean: (confusion)

Sam opens the door and accepts a package from a mail woman.

Dean and Cas look at each other

Dean: Wait... When we get deliveries, you're... You're thinking it's called the MALE-MAN!?

Dean doubles over, laughing

Dean: AND SINCE IT WAS A LADY YOU ASSUMED IT WOULD BE A FEMALE WOMAN!?

Castiel looks extremely confused

Cas: that's what you said the other day, though, I know I heard you right? Male man???

Sam: (sets down with his package, pointing at it and smiling) Mail, m a i l.

Dean is positively howling in the background.

[ghost-facer]

Thinking about the Dean in The Winchesters finale kissing Cas. He was so desperate—so starved—to find any version of his family where they’re happy.

A kiss from Cas would break him.

When he finally kisses Cas (because you know it’s him kissing Cas), it’s all the softness and tenderness and love Dean had been looking for. It’s the gentle slide of lips against each other and Cas’ stuttering breath. It’s the tentative touches where they both want to feel more but don’t know if they’re allowed. It’s everything Dean needs, and he pulls back to take a breath, but he’s suddenly gasping, silent hot tears running down his face because

finally.

[camgoloud]

i’m pretty sure this was done on the tlt subreddit once before but i haven’t seen it here and i’m curious to know tumblr’s opinions on the topic! personally i like the second two much more than the first—gtn didn’t really grab me that much and i wouldn’t have even called myself part of the fandom until i decided i might as well give htn a go and immediately got sucked in—but i’m guessing that most people’s experience is different, since the first book seems like the most popular based on the impressions i’ve gotten. also feel free to put in tags where you’d rank the short stories (as yet unsent and doctor sex) relative to the books! i would have stuck those in the poll too but there are. 120 different ways to order 5 unique objects

[ormakeasaintofme]

okay i am going to say it. it has been three years of "i can't believe they made The Night We Met the song of the day" and "oh god he literally had all and then most of him some and now none of him" and not one fic on ao3 that i can find where dean and cas both get flung back in time to the barn in 2008. where is it. where is the fic about them going back to the night they met

[sasanka-27]

It’s real

| Fandom: supernatural | Pairing: Dean/Castiel | Words: 7k+

| Type: oneshot | Rating: Teen and up | Author: Sasanka27

Summary: Morning of his birthday Dean wakes up alone doubting if he hadn’t dream the good parts of his life.

Link:

[dogearedheart]

glad to report that dean is best friends with jo in my lesbian (stanford era) destiel fic