A/N: hi it’s been forever I’m aware (this is the busiest I’ve been in my fucking life goddamn) but here’s a little destiel college au fluff to celebrate me finishing a huge project a.k.a. I need me a man like cas lol.
Cas, nose deep in a novel, barely noticed the silence that ebbed into the room. The past 4 hours had been a quiet chorus of keys tapping, complemented by the occasional page turn.
“Oh my god.” Dean’s whisper cut through the newfound silence.
“What?” Cas closed his book, straightening up on the bed.
“It’s done.” Dean cleared his throat. “I mean. I think it’s done. I’ll probably look it over one more time before I submit this but… I finally finished it.” He turned to face Cas, his eyes tired with a small gleam of relief.
Cas smirked. “Well, you know what that means.”
Dean narrowed his eyes at him.
Cas patted on the bed next to him, setting his book on the night stand.
Dean hesitated a moment before getting up and moving to the bed. “What?”
“Come on.” Cas smiled. He scooted over and gestured for Dean to lay down. “I think you deserve a reward.”
Dean fought the blush rising to his cheeks, unsure exactly of Castiel’s intention.
Cas leaned over his resting body, eying Dean up and down before cracking his knuckles. “You know, I haven’t seen you smile once since you’ve been working on that awful project.”
“What can I say, it’s a pain in the ass. It’s tedious. It’s not even required for my job, just school.” He groaned. A moment later he caught on to Cas’ wording. “Hey, wait a sec…”
Cas stretched a leg over Dean’s waist, wiggling his fingers tauntingly. “We both know you will be much happier in a few minutes. I just want to see you genuinely happy.” He replied innocently.
Dean curled his hands into fists on the blankets, wadding them up in anticipation. Cas was such a tease and knew him too damn well. He hated and loved it.
“Where should we start, hmm? This is a reward for all your hard work, after all. Any preferences?”
Dean huffed out a laugh, leaning his face into his shoulder.
“No? I guess I’ll just find somewhere and see where it takes us.” Cas smirked, slowly lowering his hands toward Dean’s middle.
The thin t-shirt did little to protect him when soft fingers descended, lightly scratching and playing over the soft fabric. Dean bit his lip, already squirming. “Yohohou’re the worst.” He giggled.
“I know you mean best.” Cas snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean’s red cheek.
Without much warning, he picked up the pace, growing impatient and wanting to see Dean happy and bubbly again. They both needed to de-stress.
“Ohmygohohod!” Dean squeaked, kicking his feet against the mattress as fingers scribbled along his stomach and lower ribs. A few squeezes to his sides brought nearly undeniable urges to jerk his arms down against him for protection.
Cas slid a hand under Dean’s shirt and he was lost. Giggling, light laughter that hadn’t been heard from Dean in weeks filled the room, an intoxicating sound. Cas hummed along, reaching one hand up to sneak a few tickles under Dean’s arm and around his neck, which he squirmed at.
“Ahahaha Cas! Yohohohou-” Dean whined on principle, not because he didn’t love it just as much as Cas enjoyed dishing it out.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Cas pressed another kiss to Dean’s forehead. “And when you laugh. And when you giggle.”
“Shuhuhut up.” Dean snorted.
Cas only kept it up for a few more minutes before collapsing down next to Dean, a smile on both of their faces. “Feeling less stressed?”
“Definitely. Well, mostly. I’m still gonna be nervous until it’s submitted I guess.” Dean chuckled.
“I’m sure you’re gonna do great with the project. If you want I can peer review a little for you, just double check for any last minute mistakes?”
“I would love that.” Dean replied as he pulled Cas closer to him.
I am literally physically exhausted by being a fangirl. Everytime I see Jeffrey Dean Morgan smile, I lose my shit. When I see Dean Winchesters fanfiction green eyes, I lose my shit. I see Tom Hiddleston recite/defend Shakespeare, I LOSE MY SHIT. Luke Evans posted another adorable picture on instagram? I. LOSE. MY. SHIT.
Once, my best friend and I were watching Hot Tub Time Machine and she left the room and came back to me sobbing on the floor because Sebastion Stan was being a douche but HES TOO FUCKING CUTE.
I’m exhausted people.
I sit here squealing, crying, giggling, and daydreaming over actors and characters either for being too cute or too sexy or both. (LOOKING AT YOU HIDDLESTON AND DAISY RIDLEY)
Fangirling is hard, its definitely not for the weak. But someone has to do it.
“DEAN YOU CAN’T KILL HER-”
“NO! Where are you?!”
“Cas, please listen-”
“CLAIRE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME DEAN, YOU CAN’T-”
“GOD FREAKING DAMMIT CAS, LISTEN TO ME!”
Finally, the other end of the line crackles with silence for the first time since Dean mentioned that Claire had been bitten by a werewolf. Looking back, he should have opened the conversation with ‘Claire is fine now but’. The silence lasts so long that he thinks maybe Cas just hung up, even though there was no beep.
From the other side, he can hear a weak sound and he pushes closer to the phone, as if that would somehow help.
“Dean, please tell me she’s okay… I can’t- I…”
“She’s okay. She’s okay, Cas. Fuck, I… Sorry, should’ve started with that. Turns out there’s a cure. She was back on her feet in no time, asked me to tell you not to worry so much and to stop texting her so many smileys. She was grinning and happy at the end. Still rebellious as hell, though. Skipped out on Jody to hunt secretly, told her she was seeing universities. Can you believe the lip on the kid? She’s worst than I was at that age. And I was pretty bad.”
At last, Cas laughs a little. It’s a small, wet sound but Dean grins slow, closes his eyes until Cas speaks again.
“She’s really okay?” The angel asks one more time, as if still unsure. Dean nods to no one at all.
“Yeah. ‘Course. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Cas, I… I wouldn’t have killed her. Yanno that, right? We’d have found a way.”
There’s a small sound, a sigh, Dean thinks. He wonders if Cas is doing the look - the one he gets when Dean says something degrading about himself, the one Dean knows he doesn’t deserve but makes his heart beat a little faster all the same. When the angel speaks again, Dean is sure his suspicions are true.
“Yes. I know. You are a good man, Dean. I apologize for my reaction, I was…”
“It’s okay,” Dean hurries to intervene, shaking it off, “you were worried. But Claire is fine.”
Another stretch of silence. Dean is used to it by now. This is always what it’s like talking to Cas, even in person. It’s a little weirder on the phone, since he can’t see all the little shifts on the angel’s expression, can’t read him - see a frown or softened eyes. But he’s gotten used to it so much that the pauses have become a sort of small comfort where he can amuse himself wondering what particular expression Cas is wearing while they speak.
“And how are you, Dean?”
Dean, somewhat already expecting the question, smiles softly.
Another pause. He knows this one just as much as the previous one. Cas is waiting for more, probably tilting his head, phone and all. Dean smiles a little wider.
“We slept in a three stars hotel. Three stars!! It was practically the Hilton. They had bacon and eggs for breakfast. And even croissants. Croissants, Cas.”
“I fail to see the importance of that particular food item.”
“Of course you do. But trust me - if it has croissants for breakfast, that’s the kind of place you wanna be in.”
“I see. This might be useful in the future. Thank you, Dean.”
Dean chuckles, rolls around in his bed and buries his head against the pillow. He stays like that for a bit before he turns his head to speak again.
“I swam in the pool. Naked.”
“Was it an enjoyable experience?”
Cas chuckles on the other side and Dean grins before hiding his face again. Then, he hesitates, biting his lip. When he finally speaks, his voice is too low, too muffled by the pillow for Cas to understand.
“What? I’m sorry Dean, I didn’t get that.”
He is sure the angel is frowning confusedly and he picks at the sheets, hands worrying over them before he grunts and gives up trying to be cool about this. Finally he moves his head again, pushes the phone back tight against him.
“When are you coming back home, Cas?”
God, he sounds whiny and needy. This was a bad idea.
“I can’t. Not yet, Dean.”
Dean huffs, frowns, hits the button to end the call and rolls his face back into the pillow. His phone bleeps a moment later and he opens it to find a couple of messages and Castiel’s usual flood of seemingly random emoticons.
“🌻🌄 Dean ☀🌞”
“I’ll 🐝 there as soon as I can 😇❤”
As he reads, the phone beeps one more time, another message dropping in.
“Miss you 😥🌘☔”
Dean huffs, slightly angry for some reason but he types back anyway.
Headcanon: Dean doesn’t go through the pile of books Sam keeps until his eye catches on one titled, ‘101 Gay Sex Positions’ or something dumb like that. And on the inside of the front cover, there was a note that read, 'God dammit, Dean. Was gonna’ use these on you as a surprise SW’
Imagine coming home from a date with a guy you had recently met. You knew Sam had feelings for you, but you didn’t think he knew. You needed him to figure himself out before trying to figure you out, you were just helping that process along with jealousy. Both Sam and Dean had waited up for you, concerned that you only just met the guy a few days ago. They were standing by the door the moment you walked in.
“How was the date?” Dean asked, trying to seem curious. You could see right through it; he just wanted to be there to make sure Sam didn’t get out of hand.
“It was nice. He was real sweet. He asked me to go on another date with him.”
“And?” He replied.
You shrugged, “Like I said, it was nice.” You had said no to him, but you didn’t mind letting Sam think you had accepted. As you predicted, Sam’s chest rose in an alpha male stance, broadening his area to make him seem bigger and more intimidating. It’s a trick males of all species use, including fish, birds, and apparently Sams. You fought off a smile, pursing your lips together.
“Did you kiss him?” Sam asked, quite suddenly, his nose turned up in disgust, as if he had smelled something rotten.
“Sam!” Dean looked at him incredulously. Then side-eye looked at you, “Did you?” No, actually, you didn’t. Not to say that he hadn’t tried. Believe me, he did. But you only had one goal in mind. Sam. So you deflected all of his advances. He just assumed you were shy; oh, how far from the truth that was.
You shrugged again, turning your back to both boys as you walked the short distance to your room to change out of your date clothes. You had worn Sam’s favorite dress on you, because you knew he would get so jealous.
Dean hit Sam’s shoulder. “Dude, could you be more obvious? Just tell her you like her.”
“Dude, I don’t like her.” He insisted. “Get out of my business.” Dean rolled his eyes, and went to his own room, leaving Sam standing by himself to think through his assertions once more. He thought about his brother’s comment. He couldn’t possibly like you, could he? You were like a sister to him. Weren’t you? But, god dammit, if that dress wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course. All he wanted to do was rip it off and hear you moan and scream for him. He wanted to push you over your edge, then hold you close all night long, while he ran his fingers through your hair, easing you to sleep. Then he’d wake up, you’d still be sleeping, he planned it in his head, and he’d just hold you until you woke up, caressing and stroking you while thinking about his luck.
Sam didn’t realize he’d even thought about those kinds of things until he heard it play in his mind after your date. Oh, shit. His brother was right… He did like you. But was it too late?
“Y/N?” Sam knocked on your door. You told him to enter. “About earlier…”
“It’s okay, Sam.”
“Actually, I wasn’t going to apologize.” He chewed on his lip, seeing surprise register on your face.
“Oh. What is it, then?”
“I-.” He sighed. “You didn’t say yes to another date, did you?”
“So what if I did?”
“Because if you did, then I’d have to leave. But if you didn’t, I could stay.” His mouth hovered right above yours as his arm snaked around you. “And I could do this.” He kissed you. You smiled into the kiss, which caused him to relax into you. He let your bodies meld as one, because, even though it took him a year, he finally understood what he wanted. What he’s wanted the whole time. It was you. And the fact that you seemed to want him to make him feel like he could conquer the world. He pulled away, resting his head against yours.
“Sam Winchester, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to come to your damn senses.” You bit your lip as he laughed.
“Well, I’m here now. Better late than never, they always say.” He agreed. You pulled him into your bed, having already done your nightly routine. He pulled your back into his chest, holding you like he’d loose you.
“I didn’t kiss him, Sammy. And I didn’t say yes to another date.” You cleared up before you felt him kiss the back of your head and pull you closer.
“Good.” He whispered and within no time, you both fell asleep.
“It’s about damn time. Shit, I thought I was going to age forty years before you two got together.” Dean said the next morning at breakfast. You and Sam shared a look of pure love that made Dean pretend to gag. You weren’t offended. You had Sam and Sam had you.
Warnings: Language, angst, themes of addiction, guilt, fluff thrown in here an there…
Word Count: 4809 (I did warn you)
A/N: Here we are. Please. PLEASE. Tell me what you think. I’m bricking it. I’m nervous. I’m terrified. @sofreddie continues to be my guardian angel watching over me and spreading encouragement. If it weren’t for you I’d have probs abandoned this series and Tumblr all together no doubt!
Many thanks and love to everyone who has read and shared and joined this reader’s crazy ass journey!
Summary: You finally get Castiel to give you answers and tell you his story.
Warnings: Drunk reader tries to make drunk decisions, language, some feels, awkward fluff
A/N: Master tag list is at the end. Let me know if you’d like to be added.
You entered the bathroom and chided yourself for letting him wear down your resistances. He had told you he loved you, then vanished. You kept reminding yourself that you had every right to be furious with him. Yet, moments ago you were letting yourself be friendly enough to flirt with him.
Warnings: Character death, blood, violence, drinking, swearing, crying, angst
Word Count: 2278
Summary: You wake up in the bunker, no memory on how you got back here or what happened on the last hunt you went on
The world was foggy as I opened my eyes, black spots swimming in front of my vision. As I sat up I gripped the side of my head, the headache pounding relentlessly against my skull, leaving me feeling dizzy and slightly sick. Once my sight had come back completely I looked around the room, recognizing the room I shared with Dean in the bunker but confused as to why I was here; the last thing I remembered was the wendigo hunt we were on four towns over. I remember standing by the boot of the impala, dean’s calloused hands cupping my cheeks as he pressed his lips to mine, pleading for me to be careful, to stay behind him and Sam as much as possible, I remember telling him to quit worrying, I could hold my own after all and I remember the reverberating screech of the monster above us, claws scraping through the bark of the trees.