toomanyficsyetwantsomemore

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

Mermen!SugaKookie from my Mermaid AU~

Download, JellyFish, Shell

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Priest!Cas and his dirty little secret aka Dean! please!

We all need Jesus. I hope this is okay!

_______

Cas is giving his sermon, and he’s doing a good job. He mostly tries not to think about how, just behind the curtains behind him, he has a naked Dean waiting for him, face down on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, ass high in the air and stuffed full with a thick, vibrating plug. Cas had anointed him with holy oils for a good half hour before he slid the plug in between those beautiful smooth cheeks.

The remote is in Cas’s pocket, and he turns up intensity whenever he leads the congregation in a hymn, because no one will hear if Dean accidentally lets out any of those lovely little noises.

It’s something different each week. Last Sunday, Dean was decked out in lingerie and tied to a chair with his legs spread as far open as possible, a ball gag in his mouth. The week before that, Cas had spanked him until he cried, raw and smarting, and then sent him to sit in the front row for the full hour long service.

And that one time at Christmas, when Dean had waited for him until the end of Midnight mass, dressed up in a tiny, fur tripped Mrs. Santa skirt and high heels, his legs locked into a spreader bar as he bent over a high wooden bench, his ass full of anal beads and clad in white lace that was soaking with the come Cas had put there earlier in the afternoon. Had anyone peeked into the back of the church, they would have seen Dean there, completely wrecked and ready for the taking.

Cas was always thinking up lovely new things for his boy, and no one ever suspected a thing. They didn’t know that as soon as Cas was done with this sermon and had talked to all the parishioners, that he would go behind that curtain and fuck Dean bare, right there in the church while wearing his priest’s uniform, and fill his dirty boy up with come.

If he thought about it too much, he had to stand in front of the pulpit, hiding the bulge in his trousers.

He loved giving sermons, but he loved what came after so much more.

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Dean praying cute little things to Cas just to make him smile - for @carryonlikewedidbefore <3

‘You got your ears on? Because I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you look today,’ Dean prayed, watching from the kitchen as Cas startled from his spot on the couch in the living room. The angel looked up, a fond smile on his face as glanced at Dean. With a matching smile of his own, Dean flashed him a wink and went back to work making pancakes.

‘I’m about to come over there and kiss you breathless,’ Dean prayed, carrying two glasses of lemonade outside, where Cas was working on his garden. When Cas tilted his head up, Dean knew the red tinge on his cheeks had nothing to do with the warm sun shining down on them.

‘Did you know I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you?’ Dean prayed from his place on the other side of the table from Cas; watching as Cas’ expression melted into the most tender thing he’d ever seen.

“I love you more,” Cas said out loud, his hand reaching out across the table to intertwine their fingers. And maybe it was a silly thing, but hearing Cas say that aloud… It meant he’d heard Dean’s prayers all day long. And God, Dean didn’t think he could love his Angel more than he did right now.

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Dean: Cas, I would die for you

Cas: Dean you said that to your bowl of cereal this morning. I’m not that special

Dean: *thinking*

Dean: I’d kill for you

Cas: you say that to random strangers all the time

Dean: *thinking harder*

Dean: I’d live for you

Cas:

Dean:

Cas: *holding back tears* you would?

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

what am i supposed to say with your green eyes on my red face?

for @floral-cas’s spring floral celebration with the prompts: green & dawn

read below or on ao3

“What’s your favorite color, Cas?” Dean asks, out of the blue as they sit stretched out in the grass on a small knoll. In the distance, the horizon paints a picture of the early dawn hours, the moon and the stars retreating home, leaving nothing but an empty dark purple sky. 

Keep reading

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

hi! could you do dean and cas #39?? :)

39. "Don't cry."

It’s after everything. After Cas stumbled through the portal onto the bunker’s cold hard floor with the Empty screaming in anger behind him. After Dean kissed him with trembling hands. After a meal shared with his son and his best friend and the man he loves. After a shower that felt like baptism, after putting on Dean’s clothes, freshly-laundered and warm, after wandering toward his old bedroom until Dean took his hand and pulled Cas toward his own room with a look of fragile hope.

It’s after all of that, when Dean pulls back the covers of his bed like he’s revealing some great secret.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says. He clears his throat in the way he does when he’s nervous, but he’s looking Cas in the eye. “This is your bed, too.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks, too tired to attempt to parse through the tangle of emotions on Dean’s face; he just has to ask.

“‘Course I am, Cas,” Dean says. “I’m sure.”

So they climb into bed together. Cas is hyper-aware of his body, the thin space between him and Dean, the way their shoulders brush.

When he looks over, and Dean is already looking back. Cas’s heart flips in his chest at the sight, the sensation of being so close for no reason other than that they both wanted it. He has a growing feeling that this might be his new normal—that being with Dean like this is something he might be able to have every day.

“Can I kiss you?” Cas asks.

Dean smiles, then, small and bashful and pleased. “Yeah, Cas.”

Cas moves in slowly, and Dean meets him. Their lips touch softly, gently, moving with the surety of water through a stream. Cas can’t get enough of it; he wraps his arms around Dean to pull him even closer so their bodies touch everywhere, so that each point of contact becomes a spark of brilliant light.

Dean pulls back, just a little. “Cas,” he says. There are tears in his eyes. “Cas, I…”

Cas touches his face, smoothes a thumb across the apple of his perfect cheek. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“I—I know.” Dean takes a shuddering breath. “I just… I can’t believe you’re here, man. I didn’t think… God, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

There are things Cas could say to that: apologies and lamentations of his mistakes, comforts and reassurances, promises not to do anything like that again. There will be time for all of those, he thinks. Now is not that time—now is the time for something much simpler.

Cas leans in so that their foreheads touch, their noses brushing and every breath shared.

“I love you,” Cas says, tears of his own building in his chest. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean kisses him, a messy thing, a beautiful thing. And this time, he says it back.

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we deserved an episode where dean meets another angel in a male vessel and he gets all flirty with this new angel and he’s laughing and teasing this new guy and cas is jealous and he keeps finding any way he can to stake his claim on dean; putting his hand on dean’s shoulder, sitting right next to dean, calling dean over whenever they’re apart, deliberately asking dean things that he knows will get deans attention, offering dean a hand up and lingering his touch so the other angel knows to back the hell off

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Cas walks into the kitchen to the smell of cooking food and dean singing off key to the radio. He smiles as he watches dean for a moment, his back turned as he stirs a large pot and wiggles his hips out of time with the music. Dean stops abruptly, seeming to sense Cas before turning around. “Sweetheart,” he beams, “come try this.”

Cas joins him and tastes the food from the wooden spoon Dean holds out to him. “It’s good,” he smiles, not really sure if it is, but pretty confident that’s the right answer.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, clearly pleased.

Cas nods. “What is it?”

“Stew,” Dean says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For Eileen. Thought she might like it for St. Patricks Day.”

“That’s kind of you,” Cas mumbles, pressing a kiss to Dean’s temple.

A faint blush creeps up his neck as he puts the spoon back on the counter. “Yeah, well, she deserves it. And anyway, it’s her and Sam’s wedding anniversary and I kinda forgot to get them anything so, food it is.”

Cas leans back against the counter. “Can’t believe it’s been a whole year.”

Dean nods in agreement. “Time flies when you’re having fun. Speaking of which,” he smirks and motions to his shirt, “Whaddya think of this?”

Cas reads the gold cursive printed across the hideous green material. “‘Kiss me, I’m Irish’” He looks up at Dean, raising an eyebrow at his husband’s grin. “You’re not Irish, Dean”

“Sure I am! It’s St Patrick’s Day, everyone’s Irish today!”

“That’s false advertising,” Cas chuckles.

Dean folds his arms across his chest, his bottom lip jutting out dramatically. “So, what? you’re not gonna give me my kiss then?”

Cas grins before pushing Dean back against the counter, their lips crashing together as he kisses him long and deep. When he pulls away Dean blinks at him, his lips red and his eyes smiling. “Wow, he mumbles, "Maybe this should be my new lucky shirt.” He leans forward again, pressing another lingering kiss to Cas’ lips before turning back to the stew. “Thanks for the pick me up, angel.”

“Tá fáilte romhat,” Cas replies, his heart light and fluttery. He turns from the kitchen, a smile on his lips, and a new plan not to destroy Dean’s ugly shirt settled in his mind.

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finishing tending to his garden and flowers, cas made his way back into the house, leaving a trail of soil across the floor in his wake. it didn’t take him long to find dean, leaning against the kitchen counter with two mugs in his hand.

“honey tea for my honey,” dean said with a soft smile.

cas felt a burst of happiness flutter in his chest, staining his cheeks in a warm glow. “what’s this for?” cas asked, accepting the mug and sighing in pleasure as the heat settled in his fingertips.

“can’t I treat you every once in a while?” dean asked, playful and teasing as he slipped his hand along the back of cas’ overalls. “besides, ive got another lil surprise for you.”

“is that so?”

dean grinned, guiding cas down the hallway. but instead of leading them to the bedroom, where cas was sure dean was taking them, he steered cas into the bathroom instead.

the bathroom was full of steam; a beautiful lavender scent lingering in the air. the lights were dimmed low, and the flicker of candle flames danced in the soft light. as cas darted his gaze around the room, he caught sight of the source of the steam. the bathtub was full of hot water, tendrils of steam coming from the surface along with bubbles and flower petals floating on the surface.

“thought i could treat you to a warm bath, especially after you were out in the garden all day,” dean said, dropping a kiss to the back of cas’ neck.

“you… you did all of this for me?” cas asked, letting his free hand glide up dean’s forearm.

leaning forward, dean pressed a quick kiss to cas’ lips. “let me take care of you,” dean murmured, nudging cas towards the bathtub.

with a beaming smile, cas let dean unbutton his overalls, and he slipped into the hot water with a sigh of pleasure. the warmth seeped into the knots in his muscles, and he tipped his head back until he felt dean lean over the edge of the tub to press a kiss against his temple.

“i’ve got you,” dean hummed softly as he began to massage the tension out of cas’ shoulders.

tilting his head, cas waited until dean got the hint to kiss him. “did you know i love you?” cas asked once dean had pressed their lips together.

dean smiled, brushing their noses together. “and i, you.”

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

for day 1 of my creator celebration & the prompt "I'm done waiting". (600 words)

Dean watches Cas retreat, his footsteps echoing through the bunker as he shuffles towards the stairs. Terror spikes through him as dread settles in his bones with the dull weight of realisation. This time is different. This time feels like something they won't be able to come back from.

"Cas, please," Dean mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes sliding to the floor. He's not sure how he even managed to speak with the duel weight of anger and pain crushing his throat. But he listens as the footsteps stop and he holds his breath, and he prays that Cas won't walk out on him. Not this time.

A painful pause follows before the footsteps start up again, moving back towards him now. A spark of relief zips through his veins as hope blossoms. He wants to reach out, to twist his hands in Cas' coat, to never let him go, to beg him to stay, to tell him he's sorry.

"What?" Cas asks, coming to a stop before Dean, his voice laced with a hurt and hesitancy Dean knows he put there.

He looks up and shakes his head, unsure of what to say as Cas stares back at him, where to even begin. "I..." How can he fix everything he's broken? How can he comfort Cas as he mourns the death of their child? How can he tell him that he misses his mom like a limb but behind his misguided anger he just desperately wants the angel to hold him when the tears begin to fall.

"Dean?"

"There's just so many things," he says, not sure where he's going with this. "I keep waiting for peace, the time after all of this, but there's always another fight, always another problem for us to fix." He shakes his head again, holding Cas' gaze as his nails dig into the wooden table and a lump forms in his throat. "I'm so tired, man. I'm tired of being this angry person. I'm tired of hurting everyone all the time. I'm tired of hurting myself. And I'm tired of treating you like shit because I think you're too good to abandon me even though I know I deserve it." He swallows painfully and looks up at Cas, expecting to see anger or confusion but instead he is met only with unexpected softness etched into angel eyes as he listens to Dean. Its spurs him on as he continues. "I'm tired of waiting for the things I want, and I-I don't think I can do it anymore. I don't want to do it anymore." He takes a shuddering breath, keeping his eyes locked on Cas as his heart hammers in his chest. "Cas," he says, the name spoken like a prayer as he stands up on shaky legs, "I'm tired of waiting."

Before Cas can respond, Dean steps forward and gently cups Cas' face in his unsteady hands. Before the shock on the angel's face can register he leans in. Before his brain can tell him this is a horrible idea, he kisses Cas, slow and soft and filled with years of want, with years of hidden love. Cas hesitates for a fraction of a moment before kissing back, his lips soft and inviting.

When they finally break apart, dean feels dizzy, his heart fluttering and light as he leans his forehead against Cas' and tries to remember how to breathe. "I'm sorry, Cas," he whispers into the breathe between them. "For everything. And I want you to stay. I just...I want you, Cas. Please say you'll stay."

Cas laughs softly and closes his eyes as Dean watches a solo tear slide slowly down his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean. All you had to do was ask."

______

✨Tag list below, let me know if you want to be added or removed ✨

@floorcas @postpunkdean @buglovescas @jactingjoices @reblogging4thewin @caskarass @justcastiel @destielification @destieldisaster @on-maars @casenergies @pointyearedelvishprincling @theehunterhusbands @zorelle @hermscat @bluishorange @14x10pdf @magickastiel @shakespeareintellectualbadass @casfangirl @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @10x02 @heartshapedcas @charlesgunn @outoftouchthursdayschild @hellericarus @pinkinthenightdean @lizzybennettdarcy @fandoms-and-things @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @aristocas @saratsuzuki @naturallyathief @skinnylittlewimp @sansasworld @rh0nda-hurley @fanguuuuuurl @redleavesinthewind @the-rollerchloster @saileen-away @queerstudiesnatural @martymar1963 @oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-oh-no @ambroseasylum @vampyrosa @supernatural4life2022

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

ficlet for @floral-cas spring floralnatural event and the prompt green 💐

“Your eyes are green”, Castiel says into the quiet and the dark. This is funny for some reason. 

“Man”, Dean exhales a moment later, trying at once to stop the laughter from spilling over and remember why it set him off. There were reasons, he’s sure of it. “Aren’t you observant.” 

The night is stretching into morning, so late it’s early, and Dean feels like he’s been awake since the moment he was born. His body aches, his stomach churns; really, he can’t remember the last time he slept. He was supposed to lie down and hope for a few hours, he really meant to once they hit the first motel across the state line, but there’s an angel where his shadow used to be. His floating mind sobers up and he sucks in a deep breath. 

“It’s a bad idea”, he pleads, willing Cas to understand that. You shouldn’t notice shit like that.

Cas doesn’t seem to understand that. 

“The color of your eyes is a bad idea?” he asks, puzzled, ten inches away. Huh. Earlier it was more. All the way over there on the other side of the queen sized bed Dean got for himself, because it was all they had, and hey. Are you just gonna stand there all night, creepin’ on me? “I don’t follow.”

“You do”, Dean replies, because what else is there to say? I go, you follow, and I’m afraid you’ll follow me places we won’t come back from. No, that’s not where his mind was going. God, if only he could think straight, it would make this easier.

There’s a sock clad foot nudging his, because Castiel is an angel of the Lord, but he removes his shoes when getting on a bed like some kind of a gentleman. Dean feels the weight of the world practically pushing him into the mattress, but a lot of the heaviness drains away when Cas gets close like this. Freaking… angels, man.

“Sometimes I want to shake you”, Castiel murmurs. “You’re not making any sense.”

Dean looks across the bed, at the intense gaze and the stubble and the little nick on his jaw. Full lips that look like they would be warm, if they ever graced Dean’s skin. They should not be awake. This is not what was supposed to happen. This is not how he is supposed to feel. 

“Your eyes are really blue”, Dean says quietly, because he remembers now. You get too close and you see too much and I’m not just a tool for Michael and the Heavenly Host to use and neither are you, he thinks. You’re not just an angel, this isn’t a holy mission, and you were not supposed to look at me like that. You were not supposed to notice. 

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I love the idea of Dean inadvertently flirting with Cas. It gets to a point where Dean starts doing mundane things, without thinking them through. They aren’t his traditional, obvious way of flirting like he does with women in bars but anyone who knows him would look at what Dean’s doing and recognise it as being romantic. Imagine a culmination of little things, like Dean giving Cas a mixtape. 

Dean makes a copy of Baby’s keys for Cas, just in case. Never mind the dude’s an angel who can go where ever he wants in the blink of an eye or can power the car on a wing and a prayer if it came to it. Cas should have a set of keys. The Impala’s the closest thing to a home he’s ever had and Cas not having the keys to it would feel wrong. 

If they eat out, Dean pays for Cas’ meals, because he’s just a weird little dude in a trench coat, who doesn’t know the first thing about tipping. Dean isn’t even sure if Cas has money and if he does he’s scared to ask where it came from. So even though Cas doesn’t eat, Dean will order him a meal and pay for it. 

Dean goes into Cas’ room one day and realises how sparse it looks. So he marches his ass down to the hardware store, gets some timber and builds the guy some shelves which he fills with little things they’ve collected over the years. There’s a few framed photos, some road trip knick-knacks, and a few books from the bunker’s library that Dean’s seen Cas flicking through. He also realises Cas doesn’t have any clothes of his own besides the suit and trench coat. While he’s at it he throws in some of his old comfy clothes for Cas to wear around the bunker, because Cas should have a room that makes him feel at home and soft clothes that makes his vessel feel snug instead of pinched and pressed.  

One day they’re in the bunker’s kitchen, unpacking the stuff they brought from the grocery store.  Sam’s back from his morning jog and making his breakfast. Dean carried most of the bags himself, despite Cas being able to benchpress a truck because he’s proud and kind of wants Cas to think of him as strong. 

Cas is wearing one of Dean’s band tees. He empties his pockets over the kitchen bench. There was Dean’s wallet which he’d given to Cas so he could pay for their stuff while he loaded the car. There’s also the Impala’s spare set of keys, attached to some hokey Kansas key chain Cas liked from the sales wrack. Dean hands over something Cas brought from the store that he wanted to put in his room. 

Sam watches this all go down. Once he’s gotten his brother alone he asks Dean when he and Cas got their shit together and admitted they liked each other because Dean is obviously in love. Sam knows his brother and he understands that when he loves someone, really loves someone it’s not about what he says, it’s about what he does. He can call anyone hot but he wouldn’t carve out a space in his home for them if he wasn’t head over heels in love with them. Dean blue screens for two to five business days  before admitting, very quietly to himself and definitely not to Sam, he’s probably a little bit in love with Cas. 

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

one time cas doesn't kiss dean goodbye when he leaves to go to the farmers market in the morning and dean is like, he hates me. he hates me he doesn't love me anymore i'm the worst husband on the planet how could i ever think i could have someone like him or something as good as this i'm so awful i- and then cas walks back through the door like "sorry forgot to say goodbye" and kisses dean on the forehead and immediately turns to leave again. dean decides that's enough emotions for one day and goes back to bed (at 9am)

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It’s my personal headcanon that eileen knows about cas’ feelings for dean and they have conversations about it all the time right in front of dean who remains oblivious until he secretly starts taking asl lessons

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There is a man in his dream. A man Dean can't recognize. He seems older but his face and body are covered in shadows so it's hard to tell. Dean knows he should run away from him. He knows what older men like him wants from a fifteen years old boy on his knees, ready to do anything for a couple of bucks. The man in his dream doesn't move, doesn't try to reach to him, to touch him, so he doesn't move either. There's something achingly familiar about that shadow that makes him want to stay. He knows that Sam is asleep in the bed next to him tired but well fed thanks to the money he's earned in the back of a nameless alley so everything is fine. He's tired of being in constant alert so he lets his guards down.

There is a faceless man in his dream and Dean feels oddly safe for the first time in a while.

~*~

Dean is sixteen and there is the man in his dream, again. He hasn't seen him in almost a year but the memory of that dream has lingered enough to comfort him during some restless nights. John has passed out in the tiny couch in the tiny motel room, stinking of cheap alcohol but with his kids, at least, so Dean has to be careful in his dream to avoid waking his dad up in real life if the tries to talk. He takes a tentative step forwards but suddenly a shadow appear next to the man and his step falters. He doesn't get a feeling about this new presence but he can tell it's also a man, and two uknown men means trouble. Two men can pin him down easily. It doesn't matter that they haven't moved, Dean's not gonna take chances. He blinks once and he's again in the motel room. The air stinks of stale beer and uncertain future.

~*~

The man appears again two weeks later and he's alone this time. They are alone again, Sam and him, in a motel in bumfuck nowhere. No John in sight, he 's not sure if they're gonna see him in a while. There's the distant feeling of foreign fingers on his skin, despite the scalding shower, but Dean dreams anyway. This time the man moves toward him and Dean moves toward the man too. Now that they are closer, he can see that the man is taller, broader than him. He walks in a familiar way but slowly and with purpose, unthreatening, as if he didn't want to scare him.

It's strange, really, to see your own expressions in someone else's face.

He is him. He knows it. The same shade of green in his eyes but surrounded by tiny wrinkles, still forming like rivers. The freckles are there too, albeit paler, less agressive, and he can see some scars here and there, mostly in his hands and forearms, but small and healed long time ago. The man, that Dean from the future, smiles at him in the same way he did when he was younger and carefree, with small dimples and his whole face. Maybe it's weird to follow the impulse to throw yourself and hug the older version of you in your dreams, but Dean does it anyway. Older Dean laughs quietly, low and soft, and hugs him (himself?) back.

"Heya, kid", he says. Dean doesn't say anything, just holds him tightly, for an indeterminate amount of time. He can feel the older man shaking a bit and hear the muffled sound of a sob. He doesn't know if it comes from him or from the older Dean. It doesn't matter.

~*~

He doesn't tell anyone (Sam) about his dream and after that night, the older Dean comes to visit more often. They talk about a lot of things, though, but nothing too heavy. How Dean finally got the Impala, how Sam is doing great, finally being able to retire from hunting like him and trying to get back to the law field, but they hug each other in silence most of the time. Older Dean rocks him gently in his arms, as if he was still a little child, and Dean lets him because he's seeking comfort from him too, protection, the kind of feel he should get from his own father. He notices a ring, a golden band, in one of the other Dean fingers but he doesn't ask about it.

~*~

"I'd like you to meet someone", the other Dean says, once. "If you want".

He nods, giving his permission to someone else to enter in his dream. The older Dean disappear for a while and when he gets back there is a man next to him. Dean recognise him as the shadow of that night. Older Dean is holding hands with that man, both of them wearing matching rings.

There are a lot of things he's learning in his dream. That he's capable to touch another man without panicking is one of them, maybe one of the most important. He doesn't want to forget that feeling.

"This is Cas".

The other man, Cas, smiles and his eyes are blue and full of love and kindness when he looks between the older Dean and him.

"Hello, Dean".

His voice is deep and warm like a hug under a blanket in a cold winter night and he can feel his own eyes filling to the brim with tears. He doesn't know why but he throws himself to that man, Cas, with twice the force he did it to his older version and he cries for hours. He can feel the other Dean huging him too and it's like making inner peace with himself, somehow.

"Don't worry kid, it gets better", he hears Dean saying.

It gets better.

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

requested by @jactingjoices : jealous Dean! 1.4k

The guy looks like a moron. He has glasses and curly hair and a horrible sweater with elbow patches. Dean isn’t one to judge what other people wear… except sure, yeah, he is. When they look this stupid, he’ll judge the hell out of them. The guy (Robbie) keeps reaching out to touch Castiel’s elbow to get him to follow him further down the aisle in the dimly lit bookstore, and Dean crosses his arms, watching the two of them interact, annoyance crawling its way under his skin. 

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[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

I’m glad everyone has fun with soft in love deancas but the main thing about them is that they’ve basically been common law married for 10 years so they’re incredibly bitchy to each other. They get in arguement a but refuse to let go of each other’s hands, cas will steal deans fries even though he doesn’t eat just to annoy him, dean always tries to slap cas’ ass but cas catches him every time and it looses its novelty after the first 100 times. They are the epitome of “stop being so stupid” they’re crotchety old men in love