drag!cas

The Tea is Decaf

[ao3]

3.7k words
Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen
Based on this text post

Castiel just barely slips out the door into the hallway and turns the knob as he closes it so the latch doesn’t make a sound. The light is always on in the hallway, and Dean always wakes up if too much of it pours into his room, so Castiel has mastered the art of slipping through the smallest space possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in the hallway.

A small voice to his right lets out an amused laugh. He turns to see a particularly tiny woman wearing a very large plaid shirt and nothing else. Well, he supposes she could be wearing shorts under the shirt. It really is very big on her.

“You must be Castiel,” she says rather loudly, mispronouncing his name just slightly.

He walks over to her with a finger to his lips.

She puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment before signing, I’m deaf.

Castiel mouths an “oh” before dropping his head and laughing. He then pops his head back up fast and mouths, “Are you Eileen?”

She nods eagerly and signs, You’ve heard about me?

Sam has mentioned you a few times, he signs back. He says you’re a very good hunter.

Her face lights up. You’re damn right I am. Still, that’s very sweet of him.

So, are you two…? Castiel looks back toward Sam’s room and then down at Eileen’s shirt.

Eileen’s eyes widen in embarrassment. He’s asleep. I was just going to the bathroom.

I was heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Would you like some?

Is there caffeine in it?

Not at 4 in the morning.

Eileen smiles and gives him a thumbs up before moving past him toward the bathroom. Castiel watches her go for a second before it hits him.

He looks down at his plain black t-shirt and too-small boxer briefs and wonders if Eileen could tell that these clothes aren’t his. And that he came out of Dean’s room instead of one of the countless other extra bedrooms in the bunker.

By the time Eileen pads into the kitchen, Castiel has two mugs ready with decaf teabags in them and he’s standing at the stove staring at the pot so he can pull it off the burner before it whistles.

It’s only a minute longer before Cas pours the water into the mugs and takes a seat across from Eileen at the kitchen table.

You’re an angel, aren’t you? Eileen asks as her tea steeps.

Castiel nods as he takes a drink.

Does that mean you don’t sleep?

Sometimes I do. I didn’t feel like it tonight.

Is Dean good in bed?

Keep reading

Come On

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY @destieldrabblesdaily !!!! Shirley, you are the best. the absolute best. HERE IS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OF A HIGH-SCHOOL AU FOR YOU <333

Dean let out a long, slow breath.

He’d imagined this moment so many times that he’d managed to make the reality of it feel like another daydream. Should he do it at school, or somewhere else? Separately, or all at once? Slowly, or bluntly? Seriously, or as a joke? Over and over, round and round, he’d pictured how he should come out to his friends.

And now here he was, with them all gathered around one of the tables at lunch. It was too hot for them all to be hungry; the summer had set in early, and it was all around them - in the discarded juice boxes littering the floor, and the scent of hot tarmac outside, and the whine of the air conditioning. It was putting sheens on foreheads and turning skin to gold - and Dean and his friends were at one of the outside lunch tables, enjoying it.

Jo and Anna were laughing together about a video that Ash was showing them on his phone; Charlie was talking at length to Garth about the Dungeons and Dragons game that they were both a part of, and Hannah was quietly biting into an apple as she listened in. And opposite Dean, Castiel was reading his book.

Dean watched them all for a moment, unnoticed. He had his bare arms resting on the hot metal of the table, his t-shirt sticking slightly to his lower back in the heat. Soon, they’d need to move inside - but first, he had something he needed to tell them. They were his friends. He wanted them to know.

He took a deep breath, and let it go. He could feel his heart pounding.

“Dean?” Castiel said softly; when their eyes met over the table, Dean swallowed. Castiel’s face shifted; it was the barest hint of a frown, the tiniest tilt of the head, the gentlest clouding of his blue eyes - but in the silent language that they’d built up over the years, it was a clear question. Of course, Dean thought, Castiel would realise that something was wrong.

He cleared his throat.

Keep reading

CAMERON DALLAS X READER

Touch

anon requests:

Can you do an imagine where Cameron kisses you and is really touchy/clingy with you all the time and the guys tease him about it but you love it and think it’s cute? Thank you ilysm 💕💖

Hey love, Wondering if it was possible for you to write an imagine where you and Cameron have a heavy make out session where you give each other hickies, grind etc?

photo creds: couplenotes.tumblr.com

—————————————————————————————————-

The setting sun cast a golden glow across your eyes as the end of the day drew near. You sat on the edge of the pool, swishing your toes into the cool water as you watched Cameron mess around with the guys. He’d invited a bunch of them over;  the Jack’s, Nash, and Aaron. The guys were tangled in the grass in a wrestling match that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and as they rolled through the greenery, you saw Cam’s head poke up to look at you. His big goofy grin spread across his face as he cheesed at you happily from across the garden, so you reciprocated the gesture. You heard him say something, and then untangle himself from the boys to come jog over to your side. He plopped down on the warm stone beside you, and dipped his own feet into the water.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said happily.

“Hey Cam,” you grinned, “having fun?”

“Mm,” he shrugged, “I think it’s more fun when I’m with you.”

He kicked his foot up, sending water droplets all over your legs, and looking pleased about it, too.

“Cameron!” you pouted and gave him a shove whilst you scooted away from him.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity,” he chortled.”Now come back here, I wanna hold you.”

You raised your head and threw him a glare, trying not to break your angry facade.

“I know you can’t stay angry at me,” he teased.

Your face melted into a smile as you scooted back to his side, “Well, you’re right.”

You put your feet back in the water, bending your head down to stare at the crystal ripples across the surface of the pool. You saw Cameron’s wavering reflection in the water, his eyes on you as he noticed a stray hair in your face that he tucked gently away behind your ear.

“You’re really beautiful, but I like you better when you’re not just a reflection,” he said, signalling that he wanted your attention.

You giggled and raised your head, turning to lock eyes with Cameron. His big brown eyes held yours, his bronzed skin glowing under the light of the sun as he wrapped a warm arm around your waist. He bit at his round lower lip, his thumb gently caressing your back, but he only brought himself close enough to you that small gap lay between your mouth and his.

“Fine well if you’re not gonna kiss me,” you joked and pretended to pull away, causing Cameron to pull you forward and laugh into your lips. You brought your arms into a lock around his neck, Cameron’s hands holding your face to his as he molded his warm and soft lips gently into yours. He smelled like the freshly cut grass and he tasted like heaven, so much so that you found your chests pressed together, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him for more.

Suddenly, you were interrupted by a loud whistle, and out of nowhere a huge wave of water crashed over you and Cam. You stuttered and pulled your lips from his, wiping the water out of your eyes and turning to face four smug faced boys in the pool. The Jack’s, Aaron and Nash whooped at you from the water, “Sorry, did we interrupt you?” they called sarcastically.

You stuck your tongue out at them and folded your arms, “At least I have someone to kiss right now.”

Johnson shook out his blonde hair like a dog and swam at you, his hands grabbing at your exposed legs, “Say it again,” he dared.

Cameron kicked at Johnson’s shoulder with his own foot, “C’mon, give it a rest.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and smiled, “Can’t keep your hands off her for five minutes can you?”

“Don’t you get sick of him?” laughed Gilinsky.

Nash swam to the poolside and plopped down right between you and Cam, forcing you apart.

“Guys,” you smiled, eyeing Cameron, who’s cheeks were flared in embarrassment.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d left Cameron for one more minute,” said Johnson.

“He was all over you, (Y/N),” Aaron added.

“I like him like that,” you smirked and extended your hand to Cam, who stared at it questioningly.

Nash grabbed your hand before he could take it, and laced his fingers right into yours. “Awh, look, we’re holding hands,” he sung out at Cameron.

Aaron and the others began swimming towards Cameron at the same time.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” you asked them.

“Stop,” Cameron hissed as Nash pushed him towards the water, the other boys dragging him down.

“Ca-” you started, but he just shook his head at you and let himself be tossed into the water with his shirt on.

When he came up, all the boys had exploded into laughter.

You threw them a glare and kicked Nash back into the water to shut him up.

Cameron hoisted himself out of the water, and began to slink away.

“Babe, wait up,” you called, offering him your dry towel. You were in your bikini, but you’d dried off a while ago, so you stuck your hand out, and Cameron took it halfheartedly. 

He tossed off his soaked shirt and looked himself over, “at least I had my swim shorts on.”

You pursed your lips and nodded, sighing a bit, “Sorry Cam.”

Cameron wrapped the plush white towel around himself, “Not your fault.”

He ran a hand through his brown-golden hair until he had it in place again, his deep brown eyes resting back on yours.

You smiled a bit and ran your fingers through his wet locks, “stray hair,” you smiled.

Cam chuckled sadly, his smile forced.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked. “Please tell me those guys aren’t getting to you.”

Cameron flicked his tongue across his lips, his eyes flickering back to the guys, who were all watching you both.

“Oh come on, babe,” you laughed.

“They won’t stop getting on me being like this about you,” he sighed in frustration.

“I don’t mind, it’s cute” you said.

“But they piss me off so much,” he glared at them.

Your fingers grasped his jaw, making him look at you, “I love you so much,” you smiled wide.

“Am I too clingy?” he responded quietly, his eyes searching your face.

“I could never get enough of you,” you breathed seriously.

His lips twitched, “Your like a drug, (Y/N)”

You folded yourself into his arms, pecking him once, twice, three times. The water droplets sparkling on Cameron’s rippled chest were snuffed out by your skin on his. You moved your face from his, but his hand snapped up, bringing you back into his sugar sweet lips, his breath hot on your face as he paused for air before swooping back down on your mouth. You nipped at his lower lip, your eyes closing, hands moving to his soft hair and letting the sensation of his smooth lips pressing firmly to yours take you away. Cameron tilted his head, crashing his lips to yours for more, his tongue finding its way into your mouth easily. Your tongue slid between Cam’s lips, both your tongue’s fighting for dominance, a low growl rumbling hungrily within Cameron’s throat. You moaned quietly into him, your nails grabbing at his hair, his grip on you unbreakable.

It was Cameron who let go, his chest rising heavily, his lips satisfyingly raw. He brought his hands down onto your curved hips, a smile growing on his face.

“You know they’re all watching us?” you asked.

“Of course,” he smiled and turned you away from the boys, his lips finding your jaw. You bent into him, aware that every second he satisfied you, his eyes were right on the embarrassed boys in the pool. He groaned into your skin, sucking and nibbling at your jaw until he’d left his mark. You let the primal instinct in you take over, your back hitting the wall of the house and closing the space between your bodies. He wasn’t done with you yet, though. You bent your head to the side, Cameron’s hot lips back at your exposed neck and drawing noises of satisfaction from you. His body glued to yours, he held you pinned there, and began to grind his body gently into you, the rhythm of his body on yours matching the pace at which he worked his mouth on your skin.  Flustered and aroused, he detached his lips from your neck, leaving noticeable purple marks across your flesh.  You sighed in satisfaction, nuzzling your head into the crook of Cameron’s neck, one of his hands wrapped tight around your waist, the other holding your head to his sun kissed skin. Cameron ran his fingers through your tangles, dropping a kiss on the top of your head and lifting his head to the distanced boys, who stared dumbfounded at him, drool practically hanging from their open mouths. He threw them a smug expression and momentarily raised his hand to give them all the finger.

“We should go inside,” Cam mumbled faintly into your skin.

“Why?” you asked, raising your eyes to his mischievous ones.

“Because what I’m about to do to you would not be appropriate for the guys to see,” he chuckled.

The Life I Want

Dean tosses his shovel down and sits on the edge of the grave. “God, I’m too old for this, Cas.”

The angel flicks a look at him as he finishes digging up the corpse. “I’m much older than you,” he points out, reaching a hand up. Dean grunts as he tugs the other man out of the hole and Cas collapses next to him.

“Then we’re too old for it,” Dean says and Cas smiles, hiding it in his chest as he busies himself brushing away dirt.

It’s not gonna do a damn bit of good. They’re both a mess and will be until they’ve showered.

The hunt was an easy one. Nothing Cas couldn’t handle on his own, but Dean had been bored between cases and he jumped at the chance to see Cas.

Sam was off in Florida with Alicia and Max killing a nest of ghouls, so Dean packed up Baby and drove twelve hours for a simple salt and burn. He’d worried, for about five minutes, that Cas would be offended by Dean shoving his way into the angel’s case—but Cas had seemed more pleased to see Dean than anything, and as they worked the case, chasing down the information and narrowing down who the vengeful spirit was, it was comfortable.

It was the same kind of comfortable that he only felt with Sam, but this had a subtle tension to it that his relationship with Sam didn’t. Dean didn’t bother to dissect it. He knew that the tension belonged to Cas, that it was a low thrum of awareness that he always feels only with Castiel.

“We should retire,” Dean says, nudging Cas with his shoulder, as they watch the body burn.

Cas smiles, small and secretive, and shakes his head a little as he follows Dean back to Baby.


They go to a diner, still dirty, and Cas brushes at his coat when they get a few raised eyebrows. Dean smiles and tugs him by the elbow to a small booth. It’s like every other diner he’s ever been in, and he frowns a little. He should have thought of that.
“Why don’t we ever go anywhere nice?” Dean asks. “There was a little Italian place. We could—”
“Dean,” Cas interrupts, a confused frown on his face. “I like this. They have excellent coffee and cheeseburgers. And three types of pie.”
Dean stares at him for a moment, and then gives a small laugh. “Ok, Cas.”
They order coffee and a cheeseburger for Dean, and Castiel amuses himself stealing his french fries.
“Where you headed next, Cas?”
“There’s a selkie in Washington I thought I might look into,” he says, shifting in his seat.
The bench squeaks and Dean frowns. “That’s the fourth case you’ve taken since we got back, man. You could take a break.”
Cas looks away. “And do what, Dean? If we ‘retire’, what would I do? Where would I go?”
“What do you want to do?” Dean asks.
Cas goes still, staring at him. So much flickers across his face, too fast for Dean to process, and then he blinks and shakes his head. “What I can’t have,” he says simply.


They get a hotel, because it’s late enough that Dean doesn’t want to drive and because Castiel rarely tells him no. It’s utterly ordinary except that the two queens is one king. Dean gives a little hiccup of hesitation when he sees that, throws a vaguely worried look at Cas who huffs and pushes him into the room.
“I don’t sleep, remember?”
Of course he does. And it’s not as if they’ve never done this, shared space. There was purgatory, when Cas would press close to warm him, and he could almost feel the angel’s wings. There were nights in the bunker, too many now to count, with Cas stretched across his bed while he sleeps and Castiel watched Netflix.
There were the nights during the apocalypse, when Cas stood slightly too close and he wanted to tell him to step away as much as he wanted to pull him even closer and bury himself in the strength and promise there.
The thing is,all of this feels familiar—Cas working with him, eating together, quietly bickering over the music in the car. Even the way Cas pushes past him and tugs off his tie with an air of relief. All of it feels like something they’ve done before. But more than that, it feels like something he could do again, something he could do every day.
They watch a movie. Dean’s lost in thought and tells Castiel to pick something before he ducks into the shower, trying to ignore the fact that his best friend is sitting in the other room, skin pink from the water’s heat, barechested and barefoot, in a pair of Dean’s sleep pants that sit too low on his hips—hips that are, ridiculously, fascinating.
Dean doesn’t know what movie is playing across the screen. He only knows that Cas is only an inch away from him, warm and inviting.
“If you could have it,” Dean says suddenly, “what would it be?”
Cas lets out a long slow breath, but he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t understand the question. “A house, two stories. With a room for Claire and a library for Sam. A garage, and a cat.” His lips up in a smile. “A garden, and a big kitchen with a coffee machine I can actually use.”
Dean laughs a little at that. Castiel’s head falls back, and a smile turns up his lips, dreamy and sweet.
“What else?” Dean asks. His chest feels tight, achy.
Cas rolls his head, looks at him, and his gaze is soft warm. “Hunting, of course. But only occasionally. Only when we—I—want to. The rest of the time, teaching. Writing what we—I—know, to share with hunters. Farmer’s markets on Saturdays and sleeping in on Sunday, and—I just want to be .”
Dean licks his lips. He could let it go. Could drink his beer and turn back to the TV, to the movie they aren’t even pretending to watch anymore, could let all of this go. But—
“You said we. ”
Castiel’s eyes are very wide and his breath catches in his throat. “Dean, I—”
He’s not sure who moves first. He’ll never be sure, after, who moves first. All he knows is that they’ve been moving toward this for so long, he can’t remember when they weren’t, and when they crash together, it’s not what he expected. It’s soft. A feather light brush of Cas’s lips against his, chapped and bitter from the beer. His heart catches as Cas leans in, a tiny noise slipping free.
For a moment, everything shivers to a stop, and it feels like he’s balanced on a precipice.
Then Cas’s teeth bite down, into his lip and the levee breaks. He growls, and drags Cas closer, his mouth opening. Cas kisses like he fights, all fierce and clever, overwhelming Dean as he uses his weight to push Dean down onto his back as he settles over him.
“Fuck, Castiel,” Dean pants and Cas laughs into the kiss. He catches Dean’s hands and holds them tight as he covers Dean’s body, his hips doing a dirty little grind that makes Dean whine in his throat and bite down on his lip.
“This,” Cas murmurs. “Every day, I want this, in our house.”
He thrusts again and Dean makes a noise that isn’t a whimper, and Cas smiles against him, all smug satisfaction, licks the noise from his lips and lifts away.
“No,” Dean gasps, hands scrambling against Cas’s hold, desperate for that friction. Cas hums against his throat and bites down. Smiles at the strangled noise that earns him, and then he’s got his hands on the prize. He slips Dean’s cock out of the sleep pants, then does the same with his own, and he sinks back down. They both groan at that, all desperate relief as they fit together, rubbing in the most delicious way.
“Cas,” Dean whines. His fingers are straining. “Cas, please. ”
It breaks something in the angel, and he shifts, releasing Dean’s hands to fist their cocks and Dean bucks up into him, gasping at the sensation. His hands are on those fucking hipbones and his cock is rubbing against Cas’s, the head catching, and it’s driving him crazy. He arches against him and Cas bites down on his neck.
This, Dean. I want this.”
Dean is shaking. He wants to pull Cas closer, can’t resist fucking up into Castiel’s perfect hand, and he wants to bolt, wants to run away. His world is shaking apart, and Cas’s grip, the weight of him pressing Dean into the bed, his lips on his throat—it’s all that’s holding him together.
“Give it to me,” Cas says, all grit and gravel in his ear, “Come for me, Dean.”
His hand twists, just right, and his thumb rubs over the slit of Dean’s cock, smearing precome over them both, and Dean shudders, comes, hot and hard between them. Cas slides down his body and licks it up, and Dean groans again, shuddering at the sight of the angel bent over him, hair messy and eyes shining, licking come off his chest.
When Cas kisses him, Dean can taste himself and Castiel, and it’s right.
“Want this,” Cas pants, grinding his cock into Dean’s hip and Dean nods, dumbly, too blissed out and stunned to do anything but nod and say, “Yeah, Cas. Yeah.”
Castiel comes suddenly, his eyes locked on Dean, and it’s like everything is stripped away. All that’s left is love and want, and all of it for Dean.
“Oh,” Dean breathes. “Oh, sweetheart.”
He pulls Cas up, and kisses him. It’s deep and slow and sweet, a promise wrapped up in each brush of their lips as Cas shakes and shudders and whimpers.
“This,” Cas babbles, frantic with want as he presses tiny kisses into Dean’s skin. “Want this. Want you .”
Dean nods and tucks him close. Hums a little soothing noise as Cas shivers against him. They’re a mess and he’s pretty sure beer spilled somewhere, and he doesn’t care. Castiel is in his arms, and that’s all he can really handle right now.
He nods again and says, his voice a shaky rasp, “Yeah, sweetheart. Me, too.”  


My fluffy little fi for the @deancas-sweetheart challenge. Thanks to @oceanbluecas & @geek-princess13 for the fantastic beta. <3 <3

“Don’t go, Cas,” Dean whispers, a soft plea in the dark, his lips pressed against Cas’s.  “Please.  Just stay.  I just got you back.”  I just learned to love you, he wants to say.  Dean clings to him tighter, pulls his warmth closer.  His fingers stake real estate in Cas’s hips, pinning the angel against him.  He changes his mind, and slips his hand up Cas’s back, letting himself drink in the hills and valleys of Cas’s muscles.  

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas whispers, cutting himself off with a kiss.  Dean hates that it’s Crowley who’s pulling Cas away from him.  He hates everything about the situation.  He has to fight the bitterness rising in his throat at the thought of Cas and Crowley working together again.  “I have to.  I have a lead.”  Cas buries his fingers in Dean’s hair, and Dean wants to lose himself that feeling again and again.  The heat of Cas’s skin against him where they lay - chest-to-chest beneath Dean’s covers; the slide of Cas’s lips on his… it’s incendiary, and Dean doesn’t want to douse the flame.  Watching Cas nearly die in front of him; hearing those words that have been on the tip of his tongue for years… all at once it was too much and not enough, and he’s terrified of letting go of it.  “We have to find Kelly before it’s too late.”  Dean exhales slowly, dragging Cas in for another long, lingering kiss.

“I know,” Dean whispers, pulling his hands up to Cas’s face.  “But every time you leave, I’m scared something’s gonna happen.  To you.  To all of it.  I’m scared I’m never gonna see you again.  Especially now, after–”

“I’ll come back to you, Dean,” Cas says, rocking back enough to look at Dean, their eyes meeting in dark.  His voice is soft and reassuring, and it makes Dean’s heart ache.  “I always do.”

Dean sits on the edge of his bed, still in his boxers, and watches Cas dress in silence; watching the soft amber light of the lamp dancing across him as he moves.  Always the adios, he thinks.  He knows, in the grand scheme of things, this is necessary.  What Cas is doing is important.  But for once, he wants to be selfish.  He wants to say fuck it all and disappear.  

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Dean.”  Cas’s voice pulls him back.  Cas’s hand is on his cheek, and he leans into it, chasing the warmth.  “In the meantime… Keep busy.  Do what you do best.”  Cas smiles, and Dean inhales.  It’s a staggering - and rare - sight.  “Save people.  Hunt things.  The Winchester family business.”  

Dean huffs out a laugh and stands, surging forward to wrap Cas in his arms.  He pushes Cas back against the door and kisses him hard, burying his fingers in his hair.  “Be careful, please,” he whispers desperately.  “I love you, Cas. Please be careful.”  His voice breaks, and he hides his face in Cas’s shoulder.  It kills him, being vulnerable.  But if there’s one person in all of creation with whom he can be, it’s Cas.  

“Always,” Cas murmurs, pressing a kiss to Dean’s temple.  And then he’s gone, and Dean’s chest aches at the loss.  He crawls back under his covers and dreams of Cas until Sam wakes him with a case.  

charlotteofcamelot  asked:

Hello! I'm so excited for this request-a-thon, it's taken me a while to think of something worthy of your amazing style! May I request a burtonesque toddler cas dragging around a well-loved, tattered stuffed bee (and possibly dressed in a massively oversized trenchcoat)?

THIS. REQUEST. IS. SO. GOOD!
I was able to visualize it so clearly AS I WAS READING IT!!!
Equally good in idea and direction.
Thank you so much for this request! I stayed up ‘til 4AM doing this X’D

I love this SO MUCH, I may have to make it a print for my Society6 and RedBubble stores! XD (would anyone want it tho???)

Please DO NOT USE/EDIT/REPOST.

Want to enter REBLOG Raffle Request-A-Thon?
Read the rules, REBLOG, and enter :D

Keep Going

Title: Keep Going

Paring: Dean x Reader x Cas (Non-Destiel threesome)

Word Count: 1,918

Smut Appreciation Day 2017

Anonymous said: Hello! Your writing is amazing so I was wondering if maybe you could do a fic where Dean is teasing the reader under a blanket but Cas finds out and it leads to a threesome? Thank you!

A/N: Stick it out, the last line is fucking gold


Dean fucking Winchester. One wink from that man and you were feeling all funny in the pants.

Curling up under a blanket to watch the movie Dean sat back down on the bed, shifting you into his arms, covering you both with the blanket.

Keep reading

At Jo’s annual New Year’s Eve party, a game of spin the bottle goes a little awry when Dean misinterprets Sam and Cas as a couple. 2k

[ao3 link]

Written for the 2016/2017 Destiel Secret Santa Exchange!

It’s fifteen minutes to midnight and Dean’s pretty sure he’s right on the edge of being drunk. Everything’s going a little hazy around the edges, and a warmth that wasn’t there earlier is filling up his body and wrapping him in an embrace that isn’t too bad, if he says so himself. Dancers are gyrating all around him in a sway of movement, and the music is blasting so loud that Dean can’t hear himself think. Overall, everything’s perfect.

“Hey, there’s Dean!”

Well, almost perfect.

“Hiya, Sammy,” Dean groans, plastering on a smile he doesn’t feel like giving. He turns around and is met with the image of his brother practically tumbling forward, beer bottle centimeters away from the tips of his fingers. He looks blissed out beyond belief with his half closed eyes and breath reeking of whiskey, but that’s not what has Dean acting so sour.

“Whoa, watch it!” Cas calls as he swoops to the rescue. He dips down and catches Sam just in time before he falls flat on his ass, and the drunken giggles that erupt from Sam’s mouth would be freakin’ adorable if they weren’t directed at Cas.

Dean knows he’s being petty. Cas is a great guy, one of Dean’s best friends actually, and he shouldn’t act like some bitter wine mom because Sam snatched Cas up as his boyfriend before Dean could get his head out of his ass. And yet, Dean can’t help but feel the pangs of jealousy when he watches Cas and Sam interact. They’re always so touchy, hands brushing absentmindedly like they aren’t even thinking about it, whispering jokes in each other’s ears before breaking out into fits of laughter. They’re so domestic it’s disgusting.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam mumbles under his breath. He tries to take another swig of beer, but Cas takes the bottle away before he gets the chance.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Cas murmurs in low tones, setting the bottle down on the nearest table. “I’m strong, but not strong enough to drag your weight three blocks back to campus.”

“But Caaaaas,” Sam whines with puppy dog eyes out in full force. “It’s not even midnight yet!”

“All the more reason to quit while you’re ahead. Don’t want to miss out on a New Year’s kiss, right?”

Sam giggles and tosses his head back. “Right,” he responds. “Wanna be awake for that.” He puckers his lips and brings them close to Cas’s cheek, who bats the faux kiss off with his hand before they both break down in laughter.

“Ugh, screw me,” Dean groans into his beer.

“Tried it; wasn’t a fan.”

Dean grins at the new voice behind him and spins around. Jo, the host of this New Year’s Eve party, is leaning up against a couch with a bottle of champagne in her hand and her girlfriend Anna clinging to her side, both covered in lipstick stains and reeking of smoke.

“I’m crushed, Harvelle,” Dean says in mock offense, bringing his hand up to his chest. “Are you saying that our drunken night in the Impala meant nothing?”

Jo laughs, high pitched and tinny. “Not entirely. It was the night I figured out that dick isn’t exactly my thing, after all,” she replies with turned up lips, nudging Anna next to her. “And that redheaded girls are.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush!” Anna squeals back in delight and knocks her hip into Jo’s.

“You’re all disgusting,” Dean mutters under his breath as he turns away, but doesn’t get far before Jo’s fingers wrap around the hem of his jacket and pulls him back.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she chastises with a wagging finger. “It’s game time and you’re our first participant.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow up at Jo but doesn’t get to ask what the hell she’s talking about before the entire room is called into order with Anna’s loud whistle.

“Okay, listen up everyone! It’s almost midnight and we haven’t played any games yet. Who’s up for a little round of spin the bottle?’”

The wolf whistles that ring out through the room echo around Dean and he finds himself being pulled forward with Jo’s clinging fingers.

“Everyone sit in a circle!” Anna commands, and the rest of the partygoers follow her instructions. Dean plops himself down next to Jo, and when he turns to his right Benny’s sitting by his side, bottle of whiskey clutched between his fingers as he chats with Jess. Bela and Ruby sit next to Anna, whispering into each other’s ears, while Lisa and Cassie file in accordingly. But what catches Dean’s attention is Cas sitting directly across from him, blue eyes glancing downward while a still drunk Sam topples to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

“The rules are these,” Jo announces with her palms raised in the air. “One person spins the bottle. Whoever the bottle lands on is their partner. Said partners will go into a closet for seven minutes- no exceptions. And whatever you two do in there? Well, that’s up to you.”

Whistles ring out once again and Dean feels his cheeks heat. Knowing Jo, she’s gonna rig the bottle in one way or another, and his mind is already racing with whom she’d pair him up with. He locks eyes with Lisa Braeden across the room, and her answering blush only makes him want to get away faster. He likes her well enough, but imagining being shoved into a closet with her for seven minutes will no doubt be awkward beyond belief. Cassie is another option, he realizes quickly, and his gut churns at the thought of being paired up with his ex-girlfriend. Either way, it’s going to be horrible, weird, uncomfortable.

“How about we begin with…Dean?”

“Jo-”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Jo exclaims while pushes the bottle in his direction. “Give it a go and see what your future beholds,” she says while waving her fingers in the air.

He grunts once but doesn’t try to fight her on it. Instead, Dean spins the bottle as fast as he can and prays to whoever’s listening that it doesn’t land on anyone unsavory.

It spins around for longer than anyone could possibly think necessary before slowing down. It flies by Ruby and Bela, Benny and Jess too. It looks like it’s gonna land on Sam, but the bottle slows to a stop right in front of Cas instead.

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Distractions

This is for the wonderful @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ ‘s SPN Movie Night Challenge. My movie was The Conjuring, and my pairing was Destiel.

Warnings: smut, anal sex, dry humping (is that a warning?)

Word Count: 2100ish

A/N: My use of the movie wasn’t my most creative idea ever, but I still love writing these too dorks having all the sweet sex. Feedback much appreciated!


“What are we watching?” Dean relaxes just asking the question. These movie nights with Cas are his favorite nights, when everything is quiet except for the small laptop on his bed, and the whole world outside of his bedroom doesn’t exist.

They were his favorite nights even before he and Cas became…whatever they are- they haven’t really talked about it or labeled it, but Cas does stay in Dean’s bedroom every night now, and they definitely do more than sleep. But now, now that Dean’s allowed to snuggle into Cas’ side, or fall asleep tangled up in him afterward, or distract himself with sex if the movie is boring, now these nights are the absolute best nights Dean has.

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3

**Due to an inappropriate reply to the original post, I have deleted and am reposting this drabble. The user in question has been reported and blocked from this blog.

Pairing:
Sam x Reader
Reader gender: unspecified
Summary: Sam is jealous that you spent the whole day with Cas and Dean calls him out for brooding. Turns out, he had nothing to worry about.
A/N: Just a quick little Sammy x Reader drabble for you all! I love writing jealous!Sam…

“Isn’t that, like, your third bourbon tonight?” Dean asked, eyeing Sam who was still sitting at his laptop, though he hadn’t seen or heard him type anything in quite some time.

Sam looked up at his brother. “So? You have three on a good day,” he retorted.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Whoa. Okay, what is your problem? You’ve been biting my head off over nothing all day.”

Sam sighed in annoyance and fixed his eyes back on his laptop screen.

Dean continued to stare at his brother, studying his expression. “Ohhhh wait a minute. I know what this is.”

Sam gave him an annoyed look. “No you don’t, because it’s not anything,” he said.

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Understanding

Happy Valentines’ Day. Have a post 12x11 coda. Read it on Ao3 Here.



He set his hand on Cas’ knee just below the table. It could have been a brief moment, a squeeze meant to convey understanding or camaraderie, but he left his hand there too long for that. Now Dean kept looking away. He looked at the far wall, the plate in front of him, Sam, his mom, the door to the diner. The door dinged when it opened to let people in and out. He contemplated escape, yet he didn’t remove his hand.

Dean thought of excuses. He thought of all the reasons he could give for this. He’d recently been under a spell and it made him forgetful. Maybe he’d forgotten how to behave appropriately. His hand was cursed. Cas was made from glue. That last one was dumb, but the others might work. He chanced a glance at Cas just then and saw that Cas was looking steadily right back at him. His eyes were equal parts sad and confused, like he wanted to ask Dean about their little secret under the table, but he didn’t. He just sat there quietly accepting this moment that was lasting entirely too long. It had been hours, no days, no an eternity. Actually, it had been minutes. Still.

The worst part was that Dean knew why he looked sad. Dean was pushing him. Dean was asking him in this moment to break one more goddamn rule for him. He was asking him to chuck heaven, commit to something that he himself had said was abominable and for what. Dean left his hand there though. He wasn’t quite ready to give up.

Sam was saying something. Dean half listened, and luckily his mom was keeping the conversation going, responding to Sam’s words. Occasionally, Cas spoke too. Dean knew that he’d have to tune in eventually, weigh in on the topic of the moment, but that was exactly why he was having the existential crisis he was having in the moment.

They’d spoken of Ishim. They’d spoken of the one rule that all the angels had to abide by, and how Lucifer had turned that rule on its head. Cas had sounded disgusted by it. Dean though, Dean, felt differently. He heard them all agreeing that it was bad or wrong. He heard something else. He heard reasons for why he’d never get the one thing he wanted, and it just about killed him.

So he set his hand on Cas and didn’t let go. He imagined holding on so long that his hand just burned right into him, marked him as his. It was maybe wrong. He could feel his heart beating up into his throat and he could barely swallow the rising lump that was also forming there. He’d cry if he were alone. He’d cry over the hopelessness of it all. He’d cry over the selfishness that had brought him to this place, and he’d cry over the fact that he couldn’t even beg, just beg Cas to break just one more stupid rule, for him, for them.

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So I’ve read some s12 meta spec recently that suggests Cas will most definitely be hunted by the Brits this season, and after Sam’s decisions in 12x14, it kinda led me here.

WC: 1200

Dean/Cas

Mature(ish)

on Ao3


“Lemme ask you something,” Dean said. He took the mug out of Castiel’s hand and set it on the coffee table. Lingered there a moment, fingers rapping the table edge before he sat back. He never quite squared his shoulders again, couldn’t seem to get them proud. “You’ve been through it, man. How was any of this worth it for you? You pulled me outta hell and the rest of it’s just been a fuckin’ nosedive.”

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Time to feel

I owed a gift to @bold-sartorial-statement for months, but this literally took months to write, I don’t really know why. I spent hours daydreaming about it and not writing a word, but here it is, finally. Therese, I hope you enjoy it, especially a certain bit - you’ll know when you read it! 

As always, a huge thank you to Rie ( @procasdeanating ) who beta-ed and helped when I was stuck.

Destiel - first kiss - newly human Castiel - dissociating Castiel

3.7K - also on AO3


Cas remembers. Well, he kind of remembers something, a different way of experiencing reality that lies just beyond his reach, now that he is completely human. He knows his sensations were different; he knows, intellectually, how he could feel Dean as a whole multitude of data he didn’t have to gather to just know. What precise temperature Dean’s body had. When his bladder was full enough to make him need to relieve himself. How tense the muscles in his back were. How his blood pressure varied through the day. Once, Dean has woken up with a crick in his neck; he came out of his room rubbing a hand to his nape and shoulder, and Cas knew the exact muscle fiber that was strained in his trapezius.

When he was still an angel, Cas could sense all these things in Dean, but feeling them himself was an abstract concept. He could tune them out, of course, let them drown into the white noise of all the other information that he was getting at once from other people and his environment. But he always reacted more strongly to Dean than to anything or anyone else.

He remembers clearly the first time he physically reacted to one of these pieces of data. He was sitting in a nondescript motel room with Sam, Dean showering in the bathroom next door. Cas hadn’t been paying attention to what he was perceiving, but suddenly he felt the hormonal levels shift drastically inside Dean’s body. Dopamine skyrocketed first, followed by endorphins and oxytocin.

Oh.

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Dancing Music

Dancing music Castiel x reader

Castiel x Winchester sister!reader

Disclaimer:I do not own any of the characters

Warnings: Angst and jealousy, implied smut, but then fluffy fluff

AN:This is my submission for Moey’s 1k Fluff Fest Challenge. My prompt was “This is not dancing music.” This turned out full of angst in the beginning but it ends super fluffy so I hope its still ok for your fluff challenge. @waywardmoeyy

Summary: After admitting your feeling to Cas he tells you its forbidden. When you start dancing with another man Cas gets jealous and admits his feelings for you.

Words: 2,613

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Need You

Requested by @deanfuckedmehard: A Destiel one shot where Cas drunkenly tells Dean he needs him, which leads to a big change in their relationship.

Word Count: 1900

Warning: Destiel, smut

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I love writing Destiel!

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anonymous asked:

Why are all my favourite destiel blogs so quiet? First Cas is not dead there is no way the writers are that stupid, and second why isn't people talking more about how Dean was willing to forgive Cas almost immediately? Or how fucking romantic was that last scene with Dean in shock on his kneels praying for a miracle praying for Cas...

It was, it WAS. I think we’re all just processing right now, and without the benefit of knowing how this turns out, it’s hard to focus on how Destieltastic the finale was. Because holy shit…Dean is in love with Cas. And Cas is in love with Dean. Was Sam even there because he barely spoke to Cas, but Cas was all of Dean’s focus. Sam had to Drag Dean away from Cas, and he bailed while Dean FELL TO HIS KNEES IN HEARTBREAK OVER CAS’S BODY.

It hurts, but we don’t know if it hurts GOOD yet..

Angel

Pairing: Dean x Castiel

Warnings: Smut, PWP, Blowjob (Both Receiving), Deep Throating, Language, Unprotected Sex, Penetrative Sex, Teasing, Orgasm Denial, Slight Scent Kink, Dom/Sub Elements, Biting Kink, Scratching, Ummmm- I Don’t Know What Else

Words: 1,623

A/N: If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know. Feedback is welcomed and highly appreciated. 

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Photo Booth (AO3)

Summary: Cas drags Dean into a photo booth.

“Cas, what’re you doing? Sam’s waiting for us.” Dean asks, as the angel yanks him in another direction.

“It says it can take photos of us, Dean.” Cas says, as if that explains everything.

“We have to go check out the crime scene. We’re on a job here, ya know.” Dean grumbles but continues to follow Cas and that’s when he sees what the angel was talking about.

Dean groans. “Cas, we’re not -”

“It’ll only take a second.” Cas says, and then he’s pulling Dean into the photo booth with him and sitting down on the small bench inside. 

Dean’s increasingly aware of the way their thighs and arms are pressed together. His palms start to sweat. Dean huffs and turns his head to see Cas frowning. The angel then adorably tilts his head to the side. Did he just think that? Adorable? Dean shakes his head.

“Why isn’t it taking pictures of us?” 

“Because you have to pay for it, obviously. And I ain’t paying for it.” he mumbles, rubbing his sweaty palms on his black slacks. Then he makes the mistake of looking into Cas’ stupid, big, blue puppy eyes. 

That word flares up in his mind again. Adorable. No, Cas isn’t adorable. He is not at all adorable. The angel scrunches his eyebrows together and pouts. Fuck, he’s adorable. And you’re so screwed, Dean thinks, his own mind mocking him.

“Fine.” Dean says, pulling the red, velvet curtain closed before digging into his wallet and pushing a few coins into the slot. Cas visibly brightens at that and the screen starts to display large numbers counting down.

“Okay, Cas, we got four shots and then we’re out of here.” Dean mutters, watching as the screen counts down. Three, two, one.

Dean only just remembers to smile in time for the first shot. The next shot snaps just as Dean feels Cas rest his head in his shoulder. Dean smiles even more at that but then just in time for the third shot, Dean feels lips pressed to his cheek.

He stiffens and immediately feels Cas recoil away. He’s not even paying attention when the fourth shot is taken. He sits stunned, in silence and Cas eventually clears his throat, breaking it and mumbles something along the lines of ‘it says to now collect the photos outside’. 

Broken out of his trance, Dean grunts before pushing out of the booth, past the red, velvet curtain to see that their are two separate strips of the four pictures that we’re taken. 

Dean grabs one and takes a closer look, his eyes immediately drawn to the one where Cas is kissing Dean on the cheek. Did that really just happen? Did Cas just kiss him on the cheek? Then his eyes lower and sees the next one of Dean, stiff as a board and Cas looking…well…upset. 

Dean swallows. He needs to know. He knew he would never have the guts to take the first step in fear of rejection but what if…“Um, Cas, buddy, why did you - uh - you know, um, kiss me…on the cheek?” Dean swears, his voice is as high as a thirteen year old girl and he would be embarrassed but all of his attention is focused solely on the angel.

Cas looks down, his own photo strip crumpled in his hand, and his cheeks tinged a shade of pink. “I was just doing what it said to do.” he mumbles, pointing to the side of the booth.

What it said to do? Dean follows Cas’ hand and - oh. And there it is. The disappointment. Because obviously Cas would just do the exact same thing as the couple are doing on the example pictures. Smiling in the first one, head rested on the shoulder in the second one, a kiss in the cheek in the third one, and a kiss on the lips in the last one.

Dean squints. He glares at the fourth photo. The couple is kissing. On the lips.

“We should probably go. We still need to look at the crime scene.” 

“Wait.” Dean says, and Cas suddenly looks nervous.

“Dean, I’m -”

“Why didn’t you kiss me on the lips in the last one?“ Dean asks, and Cas looks away again, his blush now spreading to his neck. 

“You looked uncomfortable.” Cas mumbles, his hands playing with the edges of his photo strip.

Dean takes a deep breath. “Did you want to?” A beat. 

“Yes.” Cas whispers, shuffling from one foot to another. 

“Oh, fuck.” Dean mutters, just as he pushes Cas back into the photo booth and pulls the curtain across. Cas eyes are wide, his mouth parted as he watches Dean shove more coins into the slot. 

“Alright, four shots.” Dean says, and then he grabs Cas’ face and crushes their lips together. He feels Cas’ breath hitch and fear spikes in Dean’s gut but then Cas relaxes and pushes back, their lips moulding together perfectly. Dean’s never felt so alive. Cas’ lips are so soft in contrast to the rough stubble on his jaw but Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

They don’t even hear the pictures snapping. They’re seemingly in a world of their own.

Eventually though, Dean has to pull away for air, but he doesn’t stray far, his head resting against Cas’. He smiles and the angel smiles too. It’s followed by the snap of the camera and this time they hear it.

Cas chuckles and it’s in that way where his nose scrunches up as much as possible and his eyes crinkle at the sides and Dean is so screwed.

“So, are you not uncomfortable with me kissing you anymore?” Cas asks, his deep, gravelly voice like music to Dean’s ears.

“No, I guess not.” Dean breathes out, grinning at the angel in front of him.

And if they spend the next ten minutes passionately making out in the photo booth, then nobody would notice…well, until a week later, when Sam finds the photo strips of them kissing and adorably resting the foreheads together - Dean loves that word now - then only Sam had to know why they were nearly half an hour late to the crime scene.