i watched again this moment and noticed how dean looks at cas

Seven Things About Supernatural: 13x01 - “Lost And Found”

Oh hey.  The show’s back.  

Honestly.  This is mid-season or season-ender level crying happening.  And shit, I am so fucking here for it. 

  1. Jack is his father’s son.  Not Lucifer’s, despite his parentage, but Castiel’s.  He doesn’t understand, but he wants to.  He isn’t cruel, he isn’t violent.  He’s something that doesn’t fit.  Both of them want guidance from a missing father.  He even looks a bit like Cas, and the scenes in the police station – light bulbs exploding as he passes, being stabbed in the chest to no effect – are callbacks to Cas’ entrance in 4x01.   

    (He also takes after his uncle Gabriel, what with the Nougat thing.  And the t-shirt is kind of an awesome nod to what Dean “sees” in him – i.e. the son of Satan – via the horns.)

    But yeah.  He just wants his dad.  He was just looking for his dad.  I wonder who that sounds like…
  2. Miriam – aka drunk fries angel – was a highlight.  She’s merciless and damn good at her job, trailing the Winchesters to get intel while just sort of casually fucking with them.  She writes “BITCH” in the dust of Baby’s back window, and she’s brutal in her fight with Dean.  She knows how to make things hurt emotionally and physically, and makes decisions in the moment in ways that reminded me that I might have a very specific competence kink. 

    She reads Dean perfectly.  Anything?  Nope, Cas is dead.  You want your son safe?  Kill that guy and we’ll deal.  I’m gonna die?  Fine, but I’m taking a shot at the Nephil on the way out.

    She’s absolutely not a good person, but she’s a badass in ways that are satisfying as hell to watch.  Also, her actor – Carlena Britch – apparently did all of her own fight work.  (She also fractured her thumb filming with Jensen, so she’s a badass IRL.)
  3. She also conjures up the ghost of Becky Rosen.  Which…okay, I’m coming out of the text for a little bit on this one, because this was a thing that in the text is a little bit of a throwaway in the sense that we know how the angels feel about the Winchesters being a destabilizing, selfish force. 

    But the name Becky, that we’re supposed to hear.  And she uses it, over and over, so that if we miss it the first time, we’ll catch it.  And then she describes a really thoughtless, selfish person who breaks whatever she wants without concern for others in her own pursuit of satisfaction and amusement.

    Guys, I think Dabb might have called the disruptive, abusive edges of fandom out for their bullshit.  The ones who scream at the writers, the ones who kill the fun for other fans, the ones who are dicks at cons, etc.  And that’s…fascinating?  Because I know that Becky is a character a lot of folks have analyzed and tried to rehabilitate a little, even though she (and a lot of the fans portrayed in 5x09) are not a positive portrayal of fans in the same way some later portrayals are (e.g. 10x05).

    And if that’s what he’s doing, that only really exists inside that scene – because we probably aren’t supposed to self-identify this way via Dean after Miriam calls him a Becky – but…

    Anyway, it’s possible I’m projecting and seeing subtext where it’s not there, but I saw it the first time ‘round and in my morning rewatch and…yeah.  I can’t unsee it.   
  4. Dean’s prayer fucks me up something terrible.  

    “We’ve lost everything, and now you’re gonna bring him back.  Okay?  You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back mom.  You’re gonna bring ‘em all back.  All of ‘em.  Even Crowley.  ‘Cause after everything you’ve done, you owe us, you son of a bitch.  So you get your ass down here and you make this right, right here, right now.”

    This isn’t the first time he’s excused himself to the back of the building to try and contact an absent father, and gone unheard.  He knows how this goes.  You can see it in his face.  He tries to have faith.  He gets nothing.  

    Arguably, Dean’s quarrel with Chuck in 11x21 still stands.  Nothing has changed.  He’s still getting screwed over by a father’s willful absence.

    And then there’s this: 

    “We’ve lost everything, and now you’re gonna bring him back.  Okay?  You’re gonna bring back Cas…”

    He can’t even say that Cas is dead to Sam when they go looking for Jack, but he knows it.  He saw the wing prints.  Miriam taunted him with it.  He’s fucked-up about losing Mary yet again – evidenced by his nightmare after Jack knocks him out – but this is the loss hitting him the hardest.  It’s Cas’ body that’s his to prepare, his to burn.  

    You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back mom.  You’re gonna bring ‘em all back.  All of ‘em.  Even Crowley.

    (That’s not an echo of ”I love you.  I love all of you.”  Not at all.)

    “Well goodbye, Cas…”

  5. And hey, if Dean’s prayer didn’t fuck you up completely, Sam teaching Jack about funerals – Jack who is an orphan now, watching both of his parents burn – is there to cause the leak in your ceiling that will pour water on your face.  

    “You say thank you.  And you say you’re sorry.  You hope they’re somewhere without sadness, pain.  You hope they’re somewhere better.  You say goodbye.”

    Like, for all folks were complaining toward the end of Hellatus about who Sam is on the show of late – i.e. purely analytical, unfeeling – this ep was fantastic for centering him as this sort of mediating force who’s trying to work big picture despite the loss, trying to take all data into account.  

    And also trying not to die, because he was fucking terrified in that jail cell.

    Which hey, understandable.  And if we’re giving Miriam competence kink points for adusting on the fly, Sam earned his in bulk.  Plus, he totally headbutted an angel.  So hey.  Sam fucking Winchester.
  6. Actually, let’s just take a second to laugh about how scary Jack both is and isn’t.  Because he’s not doing most of the exotic, terrifying things on purpose.  He just does them when he’s scared.  And he knows almost nothing about his abilities, but he’s learning what he can as fast as he can after “growing up fast” as per his mother’s recommendation.  

    His sense of self seems kind of nebulous.  He “was” Kelly, though we don’t really know what he means by that exactly.  When he uses his powers he feels somehow disconnected from them.  

    And he gets hungry and the lights flicker we’re all like, “OH SHIT CLARK,” and then nope, he’s just magically stealing candy from the vendo.  And he feels really badly about frightening and hurting Clark and Sheriff Barker.

    He’s still figuring out shoes, y’all.  Shoes.
  7. So I can’t help but notice that Sam doesn’t share the Castiel-as-Jack’s-father bombshell with Dean.  Which, uh, I debated leaving as a bonus thing, or rolling into #5, but I think it’s significant enough to mention on its own, because this is a) kind of a big fucking deal with regard to understanding Jack, and b) kind of a serious fucking omission on Sam’s part. 

    Which…historically….well, Sam does that a lot.  And he usually has a reason, but it also usually has consequences, so batten down the hatches for that, I suppose.

Bonus Thing: Sheriff Barker is a gift.  I mean, she got the talk basically right out of the gate, and she advocates on behalf of people others call crazy or strange, and I kind of hope we see her again.  

Bonus Thing 2: Hey, are we still using Baby as a gauge for Dean’s wellbeing?  Because, uh…she needs some TLC.  

Bonus Thing 3: There is a moment during the Miriam v. Dean fight that is fucking amazing blink-and-you’ll-miss-it physical comedy.  He picks up a hat tree, she smashes the end off, then smashes it in half, and Dean does this cartoon panic and tosses the pieces up in the air.  

Like, seriously.  I need to learn to gif for moments like that. 

Bonus Thing 4: The universe screamed at Dagon’s death.  Presumably it did at Ramiel’s and Azazel’s, too?  Guess that’s how Asmodeus gets the memo…

4

Destiel AU: Dean Winchester leaves Lawrence on a whim to go to visit his childhood best friend, Castiel Novak, at Stanford. He breaks in, intending to make this a surprise visit. but things don’t quite go as planned when Castiel initially mistakes him for an intruder. [read the ficlet on ao3]

Dean didn’t know what possessed him to get in the Impala and drive across the country. Or maybe he did, but he was too much of a chickenshit to admit it. It certainly hadn’t been an easy trip. Stanford was thousands of miles away from Lawrence. Twenty-six hours of drive-time if you followed the speed limit (which he didn’t). So like it or not, ending up five states away at his best friend’s doorstep at 1am was not something he could brush off as an accident, and that scared him.

It scared him that Cas might look at his presence and know exactly what Dean was scared to say.

It was a good thing he had a lot of practice ignoring his own feelings, because if he’d really let himself appreciate the gravity of what he was doing, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get out of the car. He made his way to the front door, double checking the address on his phone. He could feel his heart rate speeding up in anxious anticipation. He couldn’t believe it had been months since they’d seen each other without the aid of computer screens.

Thinking about the last time he’d seen Cas wasn’t really something he liked to do. He knew he had no one but himself to blame for that day Cas had driven off, his long suffering Pimpmobile full to bursting with clothes and furniture for his new apartment.They’d exchanged goodbyes on the sidewalk. Dean had so many things he wanted to say but he’d swallowed them down so Cas wouldn’t hear the lump that was stuck in his throat.

“I’ll see you at Christmas,” Cas had said, trying to smile at him.

Dean wanted to remind him that he could call anytime he wanted, that they would Facebook message every day, that Dean would be thinking about him…but instead all he’d done was nod solemnly. Cas grinned at him like he understood and opened his arms for a hug.

Dean was usually the one who held back from physical contact but this time he’d surprised himself, pulling Cas in tight, breathing him in for what promised to be the last time in a long time. He’d patted Cas’s back, instead of burying his head against Cas’s shoulder the way he wanted.

After a moment they’d pulled away and Cas had given Dean that look he reserved for the times when he knew Dean wanted to say something but wouldn’t. That look that promised not to judge him, if Dean could only lend himself the same courtesy. But Dean wasn’t that much of a dick. He might have been in love with his best friend, and sure, he might not have admitted it to himself until the worst possible moment, but he certainly wasn’t going to ruin this day for Cas. His friend had a long day of driving ahead of him today, and yet another one tomorrow. He didn’t need to spend it thinking about how Dean was a giant cry baby who didn’t want him to leave. Cas had great opportunities waiting for him at Stanford, with even greater people, of this Dean was sure.

So after they’d said their goodbyes, as Cas was getting into his car, Dean had dropped his hand on Cas’s shoulder. For a moment he searched for the right words that would encompass everything he wanted to tell him.

That Cas was the best friend he’d ever had. That Dean was proud of him. That he was loved. There was nothing that could quite do the job, or at least nothing he could let himself say. But Cas was looking up at him with those big guileless blue eyes and Dean had to say something.

“Don’t ever change,” Dean told him, annoyed by the way his voice grew rough with emotion.

He’d thought about that moment a million times in the months that followed, going over it again and again and wishing he’d done it differently. But now was not the time to dwell on the past, now was the time to remember everything he’d ever read about picking locks.

Keep reading

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

Because of this addition on the post by @tinkdw I felt compelled to write a short… thingy. :P 

Watch Over You (1264 words)

When Cas comes back as a human, he has nightmares. Dean doesn’t notice it at first; the bunker is huge and the walls are mostly sound proof and Cas – well, Cas always looks tired.

And Cas does his best to never let it on that he dreams, every night, of all the people he killed, all the mistakes he made, all the knowledge he has lost because his human mind can’t comprehend it anymore. Some days he wakes up screaming, others crying – often both. But he never talks about it because, well, if he’s learned one thing, then this: Winchesters don’t talk about their feelings. And he’s a Winchester now, at least this much has Dean made clear.

Dean notices when they’re on a case in Iowa, sharing the motel room because Sam got the short straw and has to observe a haunted house they’ve theoretically cleared but – better safe than sorry. It’s almost 2am and Dean’s not even remotely tired so he’s just idling around when a soft whimper makes him perk up.

It grows louder. At first it’s barely noticeable but after a while the whimper turns into groans (and not the sexy kind either), then small cries and Dean can hear Cas’ breath hitching before he lets out a shout. Dean’s up before he knows what he’s doing, standing at Cas’ bed. He’s sweaty and his face is distorted into a grimace; without thinking, Dean grabs Cas’ shoulder and shakes it.

Cas sits up almost immediately. “I didn’t -” he stutters. “I didn’t want -”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean says softly. “It was a dream.” He’s surprised by the gentleness in his voice and swallows heavily; he shouldn’t turn this into a chick flick moment.

“Dean.” Cas recognizes him and immediately recoils; Dean’s hand is falling from Cas’ shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He sounds tired. “I – had a bad dream.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Dean answers.

“I’m sorry,” Cas repeats. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I can go sleep in Sam’s room if you want.”

Dean shakes his head without even thinking about it. “Dude, no,” he says forcefully. “That’s not a problem. I’m used to it. Sam had them all the time. Me… me too.”

“I – I may have had them a lot,” Cas admits. “In the last weeks. But I didn’t want to disturb you. And it’s not a problem, really. Don’t feel pressured into doing… something.”

“I’m not. Come on, let’s try to go back to sleep, okay? I’ll sit here a bit. Watch over you.” He points at the end of the bed.

Cas tilts his head curiously. “You always said I shouldn’t do this,” he says.

That makes Dean blush. “Well, that was – different,” he explains. He doesn’t exactly know how, but it - well it was. Most definitely. “You deserve it,” he adds as an afterthought.

Maybe it’s because Cas is too tired to argue or because he actually believes what Dean has said, but he agrees and lets himself fall to sleep shortly after. And it seems to help, very well actually – no nightmare in sight. Dean doesn’t fall asleep that night but that’s okay - he can sleep in the Impala, let Sam drive. He’s always happy when he can.

After that, it becomes a habit. Of course, because Cas is Cas, he at first puts up a fight – but after the third night in a row where he needed more caffeine than humanly possible to even held his head up he realized that this is his best option.

So Dean stops sleeping in his room, instead watching over Cas every night. He doesn’t mention it to Sam because – it’s no big deal anyway, and it’s just until Cas stops having these dreams. He sets up a comfy chair next to Cas’ bed and it works. When Cas has a nightmare, he wakes him up, they go back to sleep.

No need to talk about it. Not that they don’t talk – actually they do talk a lot, sometimes for hours at a time. About everything, being human, their last cases, philosophical questions; sometimes Cas tries to lure him into a conversation about mathematical equations because he ‘doesn’t want his skills to get rusty’ but Dean shuts that down pretty quickly.

They do this for a week until Dean’s back and neck starts to hurt. He doesn’t say anything because he has enjoyed their nights together so much that he fears saying anything will threaten whatever fragile thing they have build together but Cas, of course, notices it anyway.

When Dean groans and massages his neck as he sinks into the chair, Cas sighs and pointedly looks at his bed. “My bed is pretty big, you know,” he says.

“Um,” Dean says. “Okay?”

“It’s just – I see that you’re hurting. And I feel bad. Because I – I feel like my happiness comes at your expense. I don’t - I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not, Cas. I’m just old and cranky and shouldn’t be doing this stuff anymore. But if I can handle a wendigo I can handle a fucking chair.”

“Well, you don’t have to.”

They don’t talk about it for that evening but when it’s 2AM and Dean wakes up with the worst crick in his neck that he has ever experienced, Cas wakes up and holds up his blanket as an invitation. “Come on,” he says and it’s not a plea, it’s not a suggestion, it’s an order.

So, of course, Dean obeys. He’s shaking and sweating at the prospect of sharing a bed with Cas, but he obeys. It doesn’t mean anything, he thinks. Cas is Cas. He just wants to be nice to me. It doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t sleep that night.

The next night, he’s in bed with Cas from the beginning. He almost doesn’t dare to move but he’s tired, so tired, and when he falls asleep he finds himself drifting closer to Cas; almost but not quite touching. They don’t talk about it afterwards.

The third night it all goes down. Of course he’s lying in Cas’ bed and of course he’s trying to keep his hands to himself but after talking for three hours and Cas’ eyes falling shut every few seconds now he just can’t help himself; he raises his hand and brushes a few stray hairs from Cas’ face.

When Cas opens his eyes almost immediately, he stills. “Sorry,” he says and puts his hand back, expecting – whatever, a shout, a ‘what the fuck are you doing you pervert’, a ‘leave my bed and don’t come back’.

Certainly not this. Cas takes Dean’s hand, putting it in his hair again. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. Hesitantly, Dean starts to caress Cas’ hair, watching with fascination when Cas shuffles closer, burying his nose in Dean’s neck. Far too soon his breath starts to even and he falls asleep completely; he doesn’t have any nightmares that night.

There’s no going back from this, and somehow Dean doesn’t want to. Soft touches turn into warm embraces turn into slow kisses turn into eager movements. He doesn’t look back; they don’t talk about it because, well, there’s nothing to talk about.

Except one thing, a few weeks later. “You know,” Cas starts quietly when Dean is running his fingers through his hair again. “I vowed to always watch over you,” he continues. “And then you said you would do the same.” There’s a short pause, then, very quiet, almost like an exhale. “Thank you.”

Cas doesn’t have nightmares again, but they still share a bed.

The Runaway Ballerina

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas 

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed. 

A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.


Part 2

Originally posted by helvonasche


Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.

“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.

“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”

“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”

“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”

“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.

“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”

“Let’s play the license plate game.”

“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.

“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”

“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.

An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.

“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”

Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!”  Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.

“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”


“She ate my stuff!”

“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”

“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.

“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn  how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.


“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.


“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”

“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.

“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”

“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”

A/N: Would you guys like a Part 2?

First Impressions

AO3 

~2.5k

Castiel works as a teller at his local bank, and Dean is a new mystery customer that brings in a wad of cash and crumpled singles once a week to deposit into his account.

Working as a bank teller was definitely a unique and interesting experience - and one that Castiel generally enjoyed.

Of course, there were always the customers that raised hell when they walked through the door, complaining about incorrect overdraft fees or loan interests, but for the most part, the people were pleasant and Castiel didn’t mind plastering a smile onto his face for five or six hours at a time.

He and the other tellers had their favorite customers that they always talked about, whether for the entertainment factor, or because they genuinely liked them.

There was the nice old woman who always updated the teller on her grandson’s theater career; the middle aged man who generally arrived drunk and so sure that he was a millionaire even though he wasn’t; the college-aged girl who came in with a different hair color every time; and a younger man who kept trying to convince the teller that he was haunted.

Yes, Castiel was sure that he’d seen it all - and then one day, Dean Winchester came through his line.

The moment Castiel looked up as the new face approached the counter, he was thrown off. Sandy and deliberately coiffed hair framed a perfectly symmetrical face that he was sure he’d seen on a famous statue in some museum or another. Soft green eyes blinked at him with an even softer smile as he leaned forward against the counter and tilted his head.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice almost as smooth as the marble his arms were resting against.

“Hello.” Castiel cleared his throat and smiled, praying to God that it looked natural. “How can I help you today, sir?”

The man pulled out his ID and slid it across the counter.

Dean Winchester, it read.

Keep reading

Touch Starved

Cas doesn’t know when he started to crave human contact.  He supposes it’s a side effect of inhabiting his vessel for so long, but it’s inconvenient to say the least.  

He remembers hugging Dean when he came back from the dead, wrapping himself around his warm body without a second thought. How easy things had been then, when all of his thoughts were occupied with Dean being alive and what a miracle that was.  He didn’t have to worry about overstepping his bounds, doing something he’d regret.

He remembers Dean cupping his face, stroking it even, holding his hand after a near-fatal (or fatal) injury as he looked into his eyes, making sure he was alright.  

Even then, in the context of whatever brush with death he was recovering from, Cas couldn’t think about anything but melting into Dean’s hands, staying that way forever and ever. But of course, he couldn’t.  That would be inappropriate, a man touching a male vessel for such a sustained period of time, and if Dean touched him for too long he might give into temptation. Overstep his bounds.  Do something he’d regret.

Cas lives a sleepless life, but as he wanders the bunker at night he can’t help but envision what it would be like to lay down in bed next to Dean, to hold him in his arms or have him hold Cas, to feel his warm breath and the thud of his heartbeat. 

 Dean had been so warm when he touched Cas.  So gentle, and so very human.

He tells himself it’s only fantasy, so it doesn’t count.  Just as long as he never let’s it show, what he truly wants, and how badly he wants it:  he craves contact, Dean’s contact, his affection, his warmth.  He wants to know Dean loves him back, for him to show it with his actions if not with his words.  

But he doesn’t dare say it.  He just dreams.

Over a year ticks by like this, when Dean comes home from a hunt, badly injured.  He has a blood-red welt on his forehead, and a deep scratch through the fabric of his shirt. 

 Cas, ever concerned, steps forward.  “Here,” he offers, holding out his hand.  “Let me.”

Dean gives the obligatory, feeble protest, but doesn’t move away as Cas presses his hand to his shoulder, where his handprint had been all those years ago.  

The injuries slowly fade from Dean’s body, and Cas, satisfied that his patient is now well, begins to retract his hand.

It’s barely perceptible, the way Dean leans towards the contact, following it.  Chasing it.  

Cas notices anyway, and his brow furrows.  He’s been told he lacks empathy, but Cas recognizes the gesture, the longing that was behind it.  It just doesn’t seem possible that Dean could crave what Cas does.

Still, tentatively, experimentally, places his hand back on Dean’s shoulder.  

“What’re you doin’?”  Dean inquires, voice a tired grumble.  “I’m all healed up.  I’m fine now.”

Still, he doesn’t move away.

“I am…checking for further injuries,” he informs him, and immediately feels guilty for lying.  Still, he needs to know if Dean wants this too, whether even some small part of him might crave this.  He allows his hands to move gently over Dean’s shoulders, tentatively as though he might break.

Dean makes a soft grunt that tells Cas he doesn’t quite believe his alibi, but still, he doesn’t move away. He leans closer, into Castiel’s touch.

Cas continues, in somewhat awed silence, his hands stroking down Dean’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back, radiating warmth beneath his thick flannel shirt.  Cas wishes he wasn’t wearing it, and not even for sexual reasons:  he just wants to feel Dean’s skin beneath his own, wants the intimacy of being together without the restrictions of clothes.

He allows his fingertips to brush, feather-light, over the bare skin of Dean’s neck, still damp with sweat from the exertion of their hunt.  Dean doesn’t tense, or do anything, really:  he just sits there, perfectly still.  Cas can’t read his facial expression, but he somehow feels he’s doing something forbidden.  

At that moment, Sam walks in, saying something innocuous about the hunt and not noticing whatever it is they’re doing.  

Dean stands up abruptly, practically knocking over a chair as he does so.  Cas watches him curiously as he awkwardly greets him, clearly somewhat embarrassed, despite the fact Sam wasn’t aware of the exchange that had just transpired.  

Sam looks suspiciously from Dean, then to Cas, then goes about his business like he doesn’t want to know.

It isn’t until months later that Cas finally gets what he wants, though he’s not coherent enough to fully appreciate it.  

He’s been stabbed through the gut with an angel blade, grace seriously depleted and nearly delirious.  

It’s an unfortunately close re-enactment of the last time Cas was taken from them, and Dean knows it as he lugs Cas into bunker, draped over his shoulder like a rag doll.  

He’s barely conscious as Dean lays him on the sofa, pealing back his blood-soaked shirt to reveal the wound, the blue light of his Grace illuminating from within.  

He yells something at Sam, who minutely brings them a bowl of hot water and a cloth, which Dean then uses to clean it.  If Cas were more coherent, he’d tell Dean that was useless, that he would be healed by his grace or not at all;  mending a vessel when his true form was damaged was like trying to repair a flesh wound by patching up clothing.

But Dean is touching him gently, cleaning his wound and muttering to him soft, soothing nothings that he can’t quite make out.

He’s looking at him with an emotion somewhere between desperation and…Cas refuses to let himself think ‘love’, not wanting to feed into his own false hope, but it’s something very close to it.

In spite of himself, he smiles, allowing Dean to take care of him as his eyes flutter shut one last time.

…  

When Cas comes to, he’s shirtless and carefully bandaged, though he doesn’t need it anymore;  his Grace heeled the wound over night.  Now, not even a scar remains.

He doesn’t have much time to pontificate on this, however, because Dean is beside him, asleep on the sofa, one arm draped over Castiel’s bare midsection and the other wrapped around a pillow, snoring softly.  

Cas watches him, too awed to say anything, for the better part of a half hour.  Not even Dean drooling on his pillow is enough to detract from the wonder of him being here.  The fact that he has, apparently, stayed with him throughout the night, his body pressed against his own.

And here Cas had been losing faith in miracles.  

After a while, Dean’s eyes flitter open, and he awakens with a startled snort as he realizes Cas is staring at him.  

Cas is about to apologize for staring, again, when Dean has expressed his desire for him not to, but Dean is only sitting up on his elbow, grinning stupidly at him and rubbing the drool off his chin.  

“Cas,” he half-chuckles, voice breathy and slightly awed.  “You’re alive.”

Cas nods sagely, grunting as he sits back on his pillow.  “I believe so, yes.”

“That’s…”  Dean trails off, laughing breathlessly.  “That’s awesome, man.  We didn’t think you were gonna make it for a while.  If you were human, that blow would’ve been-”  He trails off.  “I’m glad you’re here, man.”

Cas is barely listening at this point, still staring at Dean in quiet awe.

“You…stayed with me,”  he murmurs, Dean blinks, looking slightly taken aback by the statement:  it’s almost a question, the way Cas phrases it; the inquiry of why is evident in his voice.

“Of course I did, man.  We care about you,” he says, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I care about you.”

Cas stares at him, expression unreadable.  Slowly, he nods.

They’re still lying there, on the sofa, bodies pressed close.  Dean is so warm, so soft and pliable against him, radiating the heat Castiel has craved for so long.

Cas wets his lips.  “Can we stay like this, just a little while?”  he asks, voice barely a whisper.  He doesn’t want to make Dean feel uncomfortable, but he wants this closeness so badly.  He never wants it to stop.

There’s a brief pause.  Dean swallows before he answers, “Sure, Cas.  Whatever you need, buddy.”

Cas smiles, tentatively resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.  He closes his eyes, not missing the way Dean leans into his touch, the contented sigh he breathes through his nose.  

And Cas knows, in that moment, that Dean’s wanted this too.  Maybe as much as Cas has, if that’s possible.

It only feels natural when Dean leans in for a kiss.  

The Jealousy’s Evening

for the anon who sent in this amazing prompt, thank you! 


Today wasn’t Castiel’s favorite day. The past few days hadn’t been his favorite day. A lot of things were currently not okay and all he could do was fake a smile and get on with school, with life.
It wasn’t that he was allowed to complain - in the end Dean had never been his in the first place. But seeing him kiss Lisa… it hurt. It hurt seeing them together, so close and happy. 

Of course, Castiel didn’t have any feelings for Dean, he was just upset that he was losing his best friend. They had been close for a long time, stayed over at each other’s houses a lot, slept in the same bed, shared clothes and did everything together. They were inseparable, until Dean started dating Lisa. 

For Castiel it had been out of nowhere when Dean had told him he and Lisa were a thing. At first, he’d just been slightly annoyed, but when days passed he began to realize how much it influenced him and his friendship with Dean. Way more than he wanted to admit. 

He just wanted the old Dean back, spend time with him doing nothing- hang out on the roof and talk about school or Dean’s father being a dick and Gabriel who’d stolen from the candy shop. That was ages ago and Cas was probably never getting that back.

Dean never wanted to hang out and ‘do nothing’, had not once suggested to take a ride with the Impala and watch the sunset while sipping beer as they sat on the hood of the car. The only thing that was the same, were them staying over at each other’s houses, doing homework together and their movie night on Friday. 

At least, Castiel thought.

Keep reading

Protective

Happy Smut Appreciation Day!

Summary: It all starts as a way to piss off Dean…

warnings: Cas x Reader, unprotected sex, grace!kink, oral sex (male receiving)

word count: ~2500


The four of you had just finished a hunt and decided to celebrate by going out to the local bar, have a few beers, and play some pool.

That was all well and good, until your two on two (you and Sam vs Dean and Castiel) game of pool had been interrupted by some blonde skank catching Dean’s eye.  You were now perched at a high top table, nursing a beer and seething.

So what?  You didn’t necessarily like Dean that way, but it still pissed you off when he ditched you and the boys for no good reason.  The feeling of jealousy and anger came from the fact that at the end of the day, these boys were yours. Dean, Sam, Cas – they were all you had, and you never wanted anyone to take that away from you.

Yeah, you could be a selfish bitch, but whatever.

Keep reading

So @gneisscastiel and @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow and I were discussing this gif of Castiel’s wing imprints, which… his wings just look HUGE, amirite? Which, naturally, led to a discussion of, “Well, you know what it means when an angel has big wings, right? *wink wink* ” and then they prompted me to write about Dean and Castiel having a discussion about how Castiel is “well-endowed”, so here it is. :D 

Please enjoy a little bit of brevity after this season’s tearful premiere.

(Gif credit to @codestielckles)



Dean puts out a hand to stop Cas, tugging him to a halt just outside the doorway to the kitchen. 

“So, Cas,” he says, as casually as he can muster, which is, of course, Not Very. “Maybe this is crossin’ a line, I dunno, but I… I gotta ask, man. The curiosity’s been killing me. How big are we talkin’?”

Castiel squints at him, doing the (totally-not-endearing) head tilt thing. “What do you mean?”

Dean does not fidget. He doesn’t. He just shifts his weight a little bit, rocks on his heels, and then, belatedly realizing that his hand is still on Castiel’s arm, drops it and rubs his palms across his jeans. “Well, I mean, you said before that your true form is huge, right? Like, Chrysler building size?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay, so I’m just wondering: how big is everything else?”

Castiel still looks like he’s not following, so Dean rolls his eyes and gestures to his own shoulders, sweeping out a hand over the top of his shoulder and then wiggling his fingers to indicate feathers. Castiel’s face clears with understanding.

“Oh. Yes. Well, in my true form, I would estimate…” His eyebrows draw together thoughtfully for a moment. “…about 300 yards, from end to end?”

Dean stares at him, blank, and Castiel huffs a quiet noise of amusement.

“…about two and a half football fields, I believe, if that makes it easier to picture.”

Dean whistles quietly between his teeth, impressed. “Son of a bitch.”

Castiel nods and stands just a little bit straighter. It’s subtle, but Dean would almost swear that Cas is puffing up with pride. “I’ve always been ‘above average’, I guess you could say, in comparison to some of the other angels.”

Dean grins and punches him lightly on the arm, barking a laugh. “Hell yeah, you are! I always knew you were packin’! Go you. Okay, so that’s your true form. And now…?”

“Well, since I’m using a vessel and I’m not currently in my true form, everything is scaled down, obviously –“

“Obviously,” Dean agrees, nodding sagely, as if he has the slightest friggin’ clue  how angel proportions work.

“- but I would still say…quite large. Several yards, at least.”

“Dude. That’s awesome.”

Castiel nods, looking pleased and just the slightest bit smug, and Dean takes a moment to build himself up for the next question.

“Okay, so maybe this is weird,” he blurts out, but he’s gotta ask before he loses his nerve and it takes him another eight years to get around to it again, “and feel free to tell me ‘no’, I dunno how angels are about this kind of shit, but can I… can I see?”

He can’t help the hope that creeps into his voice, but his heart sinks at the regretful expression that crosses Castiel’s face.

“I don’t think that’s wise, based on our past experiences,” Castiel says. He raises a hand towards Dean’s face, passing it in front of his eyes – Dean almost thinks Castiel is going to touch his fingertips to Dean’s eyelashes for a second, and his eyes flutter in anticipation – before dropping it. 

Dean nods, thinking painfully of what had happened to Pam. And yeah, he gets it, but he still can’t help wilting a little with disappointment. 

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs. “You’re right.”

Castiel is watching him thoughtfully, chewing just slightly on his bottom lip. It’s a ridiculously human thing to do, and it gives Dean ridiculously inappropriate ides.

“But maybe…maybe you could feel?” Castiel says hesitantly.

Dean perks up immediately, head snapping up. “Really? Dude, that would be friggin’ awesome!” He doesn’t even bother to disguise the eagerness in his voice this time. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Close your eyes,” Castiel instructs, looking amused. “And keep them closed,” he adds, almost like an afterthought, like Dean’s stupid enough to want his eyes burned out of his skull by looking at Castiel’s wings, no matter how awesome and cool and badass they might be. “And hold out your hands.”

Dean snaps his eyes shut, curiously holding out his hands, palms up and cupped. He startles a bit, surprised, when he feels Castiel touch his hands, taking them gently and turning them around so that his hands are in front of his chest, palms facing outward - raised as if trying to protect himself, or ward something away. Which, yeah, that’s not a real comforting thought. But he trusts Cas, so he waits, trying not to grin too stupidly as Castiel releases his hands and moves away, footsteps shuffling farther down the hall.

He waits. And waits, hands held up, ears straining.

The first brush of a feather against his palm makes him jerk even though he’s expecting it, recoiling automatically against the alien sensation, but he immediately wrenches his hands back up and reaches forward cautiously. He presses his palms against soft feathers. They’re buttery soft, and silky, and Christ, some of them are friggin’ long - it takes an entire sweep of Dean’s hand, from up by his head to down past his knees, to follow some of the feathers to their end. He stretches out his arms and carefully feels his way along Cas’ wing, trying to get an idea of the size, and wow, Cas hadn’t been kidding. His outstretched wing, just one of them, fills the entire hallway from floor to ceiling, and it seems practically never-ending. It takes him many awkward, shuffling steps, feeling his way gently along Cas’ wing, before he finds the end of it where there’s finally no more feathers, only the empty hall. 

Cas’ wings are awesome, just like he knew they would be. But also, more sobering, they’re damaged. There are places where feathers are obviously missing, and if even Dean can tell there’s something wrong - Dean, who doesn’t know a damn thing about angel wings - then it’s probably pretty serious. Some of the feathers are rougher, sticking out at odd angles, and he combs them back into place with his fingers without even thinking about it. Castiel makes a pleased, grateful noise, so Dean keeps doing it whenever he stumbles across one.

Finally, Castiel’s wing twitches under his hands and gently pulls away, and Dean lets it go, dropping his hands a little wistfully. 

“You can open your eyes now.”

He does, immediately searching for Castiel’s unsure gaze and holding it. His face splits into a grin, and Castiel seems to relax a little, some of the tension in his eyes easing away. 

“That was awesome, Cas. You’re really somethin’ else.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says quietly, offering a small smile back.

The moment stretches out until Dean notices it and clears his throat, jerking his  head towards the kitchen doorway and effectively bursting the bubble. “So. Yeah. I guess we got sidetracked. Coffee?”

“Coffee,” Castiel agrees readily.

Dean laughs and claps on him the back, steering him through the doorway. “And man, let me just say, if you ever need a volunteer to help take care of -”

He pauses for a second, catching sight Sam standing at the kitchen counter. No one had passed them in the hallway, so Sam must’ve been come in earlier and been in here the whole time - probably trying to drink all the coffee so he can scurry away and leave the pot empty, again, the bitch.

“ - morning, Sam,” he says, cheerfully. He’s in too good of a mood to hold a coffee-related grudge at the moment.

Sam jerks when Dean addresses him, some of the coffee in his cup slopping over onto his fingers, and Dean pauses, taking another look at him. 

Sam is standing stiffly, eyes fixed wildly on Dean and Castiel. He’s holding his coffee cup in a death grip, not drinking from it, not even reacting to the coffee splashing onto his fingers. His shoulders are hunched up around his ears, body weirdly tense.

Dean frowns. “Sam, are you okay - ?”

“I’M GREAT, I DEFINITELY DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING,” Sam announces loudly, startling them all. “NOPE - DIDN’T HEAR A THING - I’LL JUST BE GOING NOW - LEAVE YOU TWO ALONE -”

He shoots for the kitchen doorway, powerwalking like a middle-aged woman trying to beat the neighbor to the newspaper, and then he’s gone, leaving a trail of slopped coffee in his wake - a trail that Dean will have to mop up later, the asshole.

“Huh,” Dean mutters, narrowing his eyes. “That was weird.”

He glances at Cas, but Cas looks just as confused as Dean feels, giving him a small, perplexed shrug.

Dean shakes it off and moves towards the coffee pot. Weird brothers will have to wait until after his caffeine fix. “So Cas - tell me about your four heads.”

Just Sex?

Part two of Good Little Angel 

Word count: 1,779

Warning: smut, slight angst, slight fluff, teasing (LOTS), Dom! Lucifer

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Summary/Request: Thank you @curlyxtomato for your request! This is a part two.

The Winchesters react badly to your actions but then you defend yourself by saying that it was only sex. Lucifer isn’t too happy about how you talked about him behind his back.

A/N: Sorry it’s taken me so long to post again, exams are coming up soon and I’m super busy but I’m off on study leave soon so hopefully I will be able to write more. There’s gonna be a part three of this when I get around to it.

Originally posted by with-eyes-turned-skywards

Keep reading

Memory Lane

A belated birthday gift for @destieldrabblesdaily! Have some Witch!Cas and accidental magic shenanigans :)

Sorry this didn’t get posted on your actual day of birth, life became VERY BUSY recently for some reason but HERE IT IS NOW.

AO3

“So, what does this do again?”

Dean frowned as he brushed his fingers along the dried-out tentacle from something that Castiel had hanging up along the wall in his work room, alongside several bundles of herbs and various other ingredients that Castiel used in his potions.

Castiel paused his chopping to glance over at his friend.

“It’s highly poisonous, and I would recommend not touching it.”

Dean made a small noise of surprise in the back of his throat and jerked his hand back.

“Jesus, really?”

“No, but please don’t touch it anyway. It’s very rare.”

Nonetheless, Dean rubbed his hand on the front of his jeans as he sat at the table across from Castiel, just in case.

“Not to rush you or anything, but are you about done?” Dean rested his chin in his hands as he watched Castiel begin scooping up the finely-chopped bits of fire beetle and gently poured them into a small vial. “I’ve been dying to try out that new burger place and I’m starving.”

“I have tea in the kitchen if you want something,” Castiel murmured, his concentration never wavering from his work.

“I said I’m hungry.” Dean flopped down into a pout, knowing how much it bugged Cas whenever he dropped his attitude to the age of a twelve-year-old. “You said we could go out to eat today, so here I am.”

Castiel let out a long sigh and wiped off his knife on a napkin.

“Yes. I did. I’m sorry.” He put a stopper in the vial and looked up, a pleading tension in his eyes. “Give me just a few more minutes to finish this. I didn’t realize I was going to have so many potion commissions this week, and I really need to get them completed.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Dean stood up from the table and ruffled Castiel’s hair as he passed.

As much of a hard time as he gave his friend for being so busy now, Dean couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt whenever Castiel mentioned his small business. Trying to get it up and running had been an upward battle for the past two years and that was only after spending the seven years before that honing his craft and practising his magic. Dean had been there for every step of the way; he couldn’t be prouder of Castiel for finally succeeding.

Even if that meant they didn’t to get spend as much time together as Dean would like, anymore.

At least now Castiel didn’t have time to date anyone. Not that he had dated before his business began to boom.

And not that Dean cared.

Keep reading

Can I Boop Your Nose?

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,539

Warnings: being crazy? Dean being roofied haha

A/N: This is for @impalaimagining’s 2k celebration challenge!!! My word that I picked was ‘Crazed’…I hope that all of you enjoy this! Feedback is greatly appreciated!! :D (*Unbeta’d so any and all mistakes are mine! aka it might be total shit lol)

Dean never thought you’d ever go behind his back like you had a few nights ago. Here he was sitting in a chair, in the mental hospital, in the same room Sam was occupying but now it housed you instead. Dean watched as you sat on the bed, picking up imaginary flowers around you and then proceeded to hand them over to him. Cas told him that you would and have been reacting differently than Sam had. You still see Lucifer here and there, he bothers you at night and whispers lies in your ear. Other than that, it’s almost like your mind is this innocent psychotic child.  

Keep reading

Noises

content: After hearing some suspicious noises coming out of Dean’s bedroom the night before, Sam decides to confront his brother.

word count: 2,088


“Dean, we need to talk.”

Sam’s voice sounds very serious while he leans against the kitchen counter and folds his stupidly long arms in front of his chest, glaring at his older brother with the familiar I-don’t-support-your-life-choices look. He doesn’t even waste his time with a “Good morning” or something similar and that’s always a bad sign.

Dean, however, isn’t really impressed by that. He places the bacon onto the hot pan at a leisurely pace, ignoring Sam completely, until he finally shoots a quick glance over his shoulder.

“And what’s so important at 7 a.m.?”

Sam huffs impatiently. “You know!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

Sam fidgets uncomfortably as if he’d rather be somewhere else and doesn’t want to have this discussion at all. And then he starts to gesticulate, flailing his limbs in Dean’s vague direction, and performs a very complicated dance with his eyebrows.

“How about we talk about last night?”

Quite suddenly Dean’s attention is grabbed, but he keeps himself from acting like a deer in the headlights. Instead he clears his throat and asks, a bit croaky, “What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at you!” Sam says, pointing at Dean’s face with an accusatory expression. “There is that stupid grin I’ve seen so many times and I think it’s even worse than ever before. And let’s not even mention that huge hickey on your neck.”

Dean ducks his head and tries forcefully – and highly unsuccessfully – to fight back a blush.

Damn.

Keep reading

Make a Date of It

Dean knew he’d never be with Cas. 

It was just too complicated.  Yeah, the younger hunting community did seem significantly more progressive than John’s old buddies, throwing around f slurs and laughing over beers, but Dean was in his thirties.  His late thirties.  

No one came out at this age, and if he did, he was sure they would think he was faking, having some bizarre mid-life sexual crisis or trying to get attention.  Moreover, he was a legend among hunters:  he didn’t want his going both ways to become the talk of the town, their variation of celebrity gossip, even if it wasn’t in a completely negative context.  

So he could never be with Cas.  It just wasn’t practical.  

Still, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of longing as he watched Cas stitch up his trench coat, delicate fans of dark eyelashes over soft, tired bags and prominent cheekbones, stubble sprinkling his jaw.

Man, it would be great if Cas was human.  If Dean was just a normal guy who’d met him in a park or a grocery store, who could have worked out his sexuality in his teens or twenties like any normal fence-sitter, instead of worrying about his brother’s life or the damn apocalypse. 

Or even if it wasn’t, even if things were just as they were now, Dean couldn’t help but think how amazing it would be to hold him in his arms late at night while he slept, press his nose to that dark mess of hair and breath in the soapy smell of shampoo.  Maybe start to see a grey hair or two.

That was another pleasant thought:  Cas going grey, Cas the silver fox.  He’d always had a thing for mature guys, though he’d absolutely never admit it, and he was surprised to find the idea of getting old together with Cas a pleasant one.

But then, he’d blown his chance to have human Cas, hadn’t he?  Cas had been human once, been ready to settle down in the bunker for good, and Dean had kicked him to the curb.  He’d spent every day regretting it.

“Dean, are you okay?”

Dean blinked, remembering Sam was there.  He was sitting perpendicular to Dean at the long wooden table, open laptop and book of lore in front of him, looking at Dean with concerned, puppyish eyes.  

Even Cas paused in his mending the wounded sleeve, looking up to see what this latest drama could be.   

Dean cleared his throat.  “’Course I’m okay.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” Sam shrugged.  “You’ve just been sort of spacing out for a really long time.  You looked kind of upset.”

“Bullshit,” Dean scoffed, a tad defensively.  “M’not upset.”

“I noticed, too,” Cas pointed out.  “But it’s been a rudimentary aspect of his personality since I’ve known him, so I generally elect to ignore it.”  There was a brief pause as Dean mustered a glower.  “If you’d like, I could read his mind…?”

No!”  Dean cried, horrified by the suggestion.  

Sam ran a palm over his face, clearly trying not to laugh.  Sadistic bastard.  “It’s fine, Cas.  I’m sure Dean is just…distracted.” 

Cas nodded hesitantly.  “Very well.  Let me know if this changes, Dean:  I should very much like to help.”

“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Dean muttered, pretending to go back to his laptop.  

God, Cas was a sweetheart.  Oblivious, but a sweetheart.  Dean could see now that all he’d ever wanted to do was help.  To help Dean.

So many missed opportunities, over the years they’d known each other.  So many times he’d noticed that mouth, full and chapped and supple, when he could have closed the gap between them and let the warmth consume him.  So many times he could have said something, anything, to convey to Cas how he felt. 

Dean froze suddenly as a realization dawned on him then:  if he could look back on moments five years ago that he could have told Cas how he felt but didn’t, five years from now, would he feel the same way?  Would he still be hooking up with the same sexually frustrated housewives that liked to boss him around the way he craved, or odd bull named Larry, only to come home feeling empty and full of regret?  Would he still be watching Cas from afar and wishing he’d said something, anything, to convey that he loved him as more than a friend?  To convey that he loved him at all? 

It’s too late, said that nagging little voice in his head.  Too complicated.  He isn’t even your species!  

Dean realized he didn’t care.  He’d spent his whole life watching people wait for some idyllic scenario to come along to show their loved ones how they felt:  John promising he’d give his boys the life they deserved after he got his precious revenge, Mary studiously avoiding them until she could mold their lives into what she’d envisioned for them over thirty years prior.  

Dean wasn’t going to repeat their mistakes.  He couldn’t.

Think of the hunters!  the voice persisted.  Do you really want them knowing you like guys? 

Dean scoffed inwardly.  At the end of the day, who fucking cares?  He’d met gay hunters before.  One of them was a goddamn witch.  The hunting community had changed a lot since he’d last been involved.

And yeah, he was sure there was still some homophobia lurking, but was he really gonna let that stop him?  Besides:  there might be some young hunter kid scared to come out of the closet, who might be inspired to if he knew Dean Winchester was bi.  

Dean could have really used someone like that when he was younger.

“Cas, do you wanna go get burgers?” 

Dean blurted the phrase out without thinking, causing both Sam and Cas looking up in surprise.  

Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling very awkward as silence hung thick in the air.  

“I mean…just if you want to, that is,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously as he felt his ears grow hot.

Cas blinked.  “Certainly.  You know I love burgers, Dean.”

Dean stared at him, then chuckled awkwardly, not really processing that he’d just said yes.  “Yeah, that’s, uh.  Kinda why I asked.”

There was a long silence before Cas offered, “Shall we go now, or…?” 

Dean blinked, still in a haze as he registered the question.  “No no.  I mean, uh.  We can if you want to, but I was kinda thinking we could go tomorrow night.”  He swallowed, palm rubbing over his trachea.  “Y’know.  Make a date of it.” 

Dean chuckled awkwardly again as Cas’s eyes widened, expression unreadable.  He was peripherally aware of Sam’s comically baffled facial expression, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.  He looked as though if you poked him with your finger, he would fall over. 

Finally, Cas said quietly.  “I would love that, Dean.”

“…Great.”  Dean cleared his throat, nodding slowly.  A nervous smile spread over his face.  “Great!  Uh, tomorrow at eight, then?”

“That would be wonderful, Dean.”  

Dean had to resist the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl.  Everything about this was incredible.  The fact that he’d just asked Cas out on a date.  The fact that he’d said ‘yes.’  The way Cas said his name. 

Dean.  Dean.  Dean.  

Dean thought he could listen to that voice say his name forever and never get tired of it.

He and Cas sat there in mutually baffled silence for a moment or two longer, before Sam’s exhausted, relieved sigh broke the spell.

“Fucking finally.

anonymous asked:

Are there any list or compilation of characters making snide comments or subtle notice that there are something more than just a profound bond between Cas and Dean? Also, why did Aaron choose to flirt with Dean to hide the fact that he was tailing him? They never met, so what tipped him off, and that it worked so well?

Hi! well, a while ago I made this post.

So we have… off the top of my head:

Balthazar, Meg, Naomi, Lucifer, Charlie, Benny, Hester, Crowley, Amara, Metatron, Ishim, Nora, Bobby, Sam and Cain… basically MOST of the characters who either know them well enough individually or have seen them together for more than 30 seconds.

My favourites though are Crowley, Lucifer and Amara

Crowley because he knows them both so well. He teases Cas about Dean being his boyfriend, calls Cas a “love slave”, ‘saves’ Cas in order to make Dean human again because he knows he needs Cas for this, he teases Dean about their own escapades as demon!dean, with Dean it’s less about Cas and more about Dean/him as he is jealous, teases him about being able to shove the bomb where the sun don’t shine “well, you could…” etc.

source:

@impala-sunsets

Amara literally is the Anti-Cas throughout all of season 11, the bond overrinding his free will, but her bond is not as strong as Cas and Dean’s, despite being God’s sister, she has to use Cas to get through to Dean, she only appears when Dean is longing for Cas or when Sam mentions Angels for example. She also exposes that Dean REPRESENTS Humanity, a hark back to Metatron’s “Cas is in love with Humanity”, wow this story is so layered it takes YEARS for pieces of the puzzle to be made obvious, by which time the GA have probably forgotten, but we haven’t and when people rewatch once it is canonically acknowledged I’m sure there will be floods of people going “OHHHH I see now when they did THIS and THAT it was because they’ve been in love all along!”.

When she then is portrayed as caring about Dean, she exposes his emotions, his feelings of love and shame (as the love monster, but it still counts as it is her representation and the monster literally says “who I am is not important” ie. THE WRITERS SAYING LOOK AT WHAT THIS MONSTER IS SAYING BECAUSE ITS TRUE), of his self worth and his feelings for CAS, which have been the overriding theme of all of Dean’s story for the end of the season, which Amara USED to get close to him… I mean JEEZ exposition much? 

The whole season’s plot makes no sense if you don’t see Dean as so deeply in love with Cas that the big bad uses it in her own storyline, the plot for the WHOLE SEASON RESTS ON IT. 

Originally posted by casclaire

Lucifer because he was inside Cas so canonically knows how he feels… Tbh I’m still waiting for this to come out at some point… probably towards the end of Lucifer’s story we should get some kind of reference to him using Dean to get to Cas or just coming out with it as he is a master manipulator , of course he would use this against them, he knows, he should do something with this information, I’M WAITING!

Originally posted by driverpicksthemuusic

Re: Aaron, Aaron was SMART. 

Tbh I think he just thought that Dean would be super uncomfortable and back off if he was hit on by a dude, as most guys would, it’s a great tactic. 

BUT Dean actually gets flustered and looks like he might actually be interested… so Aaron is like SHIT and basically then backs off himself, trying to tie up the conversation and move Dean along. Luckily for him Dean’s phone rings. But if you watch it, Aaron is hitting on Dean up to the point where it seems like Dean might actually be interested, then he completely changes to trying to end the conversation. 

He’s all “have a good night” instead of actually trying to get a date out of him as he would if he was really interested after Dean made the face he does when he says “is that supposed to make you less interesting?”.

source: @caffeinedeathwarrior

JUST LOOK AT AARON’S FACE FALL!!!

Aaron thought that last flirtation would be the nail in the coffin to make a straight guy get so uncomfortable he’d end the conversation and walk away, but Dean pulls that face and Aaron’s FACE! He’s like SHIT CHANGE TACTIC, ABORT ABORT! 

It’s awesome.

Same as most of my meta on Dean being bi, its often not actually about Dean himself or the top layer, it’s other peoples reactions to it (the Siren for instance), I LOVE this moment.

Everything You Need

Summary:  Dean owns a general store in a small town with his brother Sam and best friend Cas. You moved there six months ago and have been flirting back and forth, but it’s going nowhere. When you’re approached by a guy in Dean’s store will he finally make a move?

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas

Word Count:  1480

Warnings: fluff, slightly smutty scenes

A/N:  This is my submission for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog  #mimi’s romcom fluff challenge and my prompt was: ‘You keep using that word, I don’t think you know what it means.’

This is probably the start of a new series.  Feedback is appreciated!

Beta’d by @wheresthekillswitch - Thanks for always being my sounding board, Lee.

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual




Aisle two of the little grocery is just as sleepy as the small town it resides in.  It’s your second trip this week and you’d be embarrassed at how dressed up you are for a cereal run if you weren’t so busy scanning for him.  As you near the end of the aisle you nonchalantly gaze towards his office.  Empty.  Damn.

You grab a box of Raisin Bran; no one here knows that you have a full box sitting in your pantry at this moment, and head over to the check out.

“More Raisin Bran, Y/n?” Cas laughs as he scans the box.

“Yeah,” you answer vaguely hoping that the heat in your face isn’t noticeable.

You head home dejected that you missed him, but hopeful that you’ll catch him next week.
—-
Dean’s POV

“You just missed Y/n,” Cas calls when I come in from the back.  Sam and I just spent the better part of the afternoon unloading the latest delivery.

“Awesome,” I frown.  She’s been in twice this week and I’ve missed her both times.

Sam chuckles as he comes in after me.  “You should probably just give her your schedule.  Or, I don’t know, ask her out?”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

“I agree, I don’t understand your hesitation.” Cas joins in.  “You’re usually quite the ladies man.”

“Did you just say ‘ladies man’?” Sam’s attention is now fully on Cas.

“Is that not the term?”

“Well, it’s a term.  But not one I’d use.”

“Which do you prefer?”

I slink into my office as they start to list off their favorites, happy that I don’t have to explain my hesitation.

Fear, uncertainty, rejection.  Any combination of the bunch could be why I’m hesitating.  But really, I’m terrified Y/n will say yes and that I’ll let her down just like I have every other woman in my life.

The next day I hear her voice and my heart jumps.  I make sure my door is open wide while I pretend to work.

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Angel’s Wings

Characters – Cas x Reader, Sam, Dean

Summary – It takes a near death experience for the reader to find out why she can see an angel’s wings.

Word Count – 5,983

Warnings – Canon-type violence

A/N – When I hit my 500 follower milestone, I did drabble requests. I only received two, so I am turning them into full one shots instead! This one was from @trinityjadec: “OH MY GOSH CONGRATS YOU DESERVE SO MANY FOLLOWERS!!! Could I have Cas and something with his wings? (still have an unhealthy obsession) I LOVE YOU SO MUCH KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK”

Here you go, Trinity!  I hope you enjoy it and I’m so sorry for the wait! 

Also written for @percussiongirl2017’s I’m Finally Legal Birthday Challenge.   I got #37: Why can I see your wings?  And the song “If I Died Today” by Tim McGraw

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural

Your name: submit What is this?


You would never forget the first time you saw Castiel.  You were sitting in the bunker library with Sam, discussing a possible vampire case up in Omaha that you’d been trying to research for several days, when the front door opened and Dean began descending the stairs with another man you’d never seen before.

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Imagine Mary realizing both of her sons, Sam and Dean, are in love with the same girl, you. (Part 2)

Originally posted by devoiddean

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Read Part 1 here!

“You are really close.” a soft voice said but you still almost jumped. You turned around to face Mary and let a soft chuckle.

“Did I scare you?” she asked and you gave her a sheepish smile.

“For a hunter my instincts are always fast asleep.” you said with a laugh “Much to Dean’s dismay. He’s taught me a lot of things but I always seem to do the wrong thing, can’t understand how he can be so patient.”

“He’s not usually.” she said with a small shrug as she took a sit on one of the chairs in the kitchen.

“I have noticed yeah, I guess.” you sai with a small shrug.

“He’s patient with you… and a lot of other things that he usually isn’t.” she noted and you were too occupied to notice the voice tone when she said the words.

“I think?” you gave her a shy smile “I just- we’re close, that’s all. Maybe I get to see a few other sides in him.”

“Only him?” she asked with a frown and you stopped for a moment to look at her blinking “I mean-” he started again “I haven’t been around for very long but- I just noticed that you and Dean and Sam are really… comfortable around each other. You really are a family.” for lack of better words.

You smiled just slightly at the thought of the Winchesters “They are my family Mary. I know that there might not be any blood relation but- but Sam, Dean and Cas are all I’ve got. I lost my family to some vampires and I would have died to if it wasn’t for your sons. That was about ten years ago and we’ve been through heaven and hell together. Literally.” you breathed out.

“They care about you a lot, I can see it.” she said in a low voice and you looked down shyly.

“I- I care about both of them a lot too.” somehow you didn’t understand how you separated them from Cas because the way you cared about them was completely different.

“I’m glad about that, I always wanted someone to look after them and… love them the way you do.”

“I’m not doing anything special, Mary.” you said honestly “It comes naturally, I can’t help it. They’ve done so much for me that I just- it’s impossible to not love them, considering who they are.” yu shrugged and she nodded her head.

“I know that, I know. I just-” he bit on her lower lip for a moment “I was wondering if- I don’t want to intrude or something I just thought that- do you probably see them or any of them any… different?”

“Different? How?” you blinked, although part of you already knew what she was trying to say.

Mary was ready to say something but all words got caught in her throat when she saw her two sons enter the kitchen. They both gave her a kiss on the cheek and greeted her but before they could exchange a ew words they noticed you standing there, ready to prepare dinner and jumped at the opportunity to help.

“Hey what were you talking about?” Dean asked in a low voice as he glanced at Castiel sitting next to Mary and getting into a conversation with her.

“It was-” you paused for a moment, biting your lower lip in thought “It was nothing. Just an easy chat, nothing special.”

“You sure?” Sam asked and you glanced at him, smiling the exact same smile you gave to Dean.

“Yeah, Sammy. Don’t sweat it, casual girl stuff you two giants can’t understand.” you gave him a wink as he grabbed some of the ingredients still needed.

“I mean I can’t but not even Samantha?” Dean asked with a tilt of his head, raising an eyebrow and you snickered.

“Funny much.” Sam rolled his eyes “Hey Deanna, next time period cramps start don’t ask me to go get you all the chocolate I can find.” he said with a smirk, reminding you of a particularly fun case and Dean only scoffed at him.

“I won’t.” he shrugged, wrapping two arms protectively around you “I have (Y/n) for that, at least I can understand her better than you do.” he said in a childish way and you rolled your eyes laughing at them.

“Come on girls, don’t get your panties in a twist. We got dinner to prepare.” you joked, pushing Dean away with your buttas he smirked at you.

“Oh are we getting some action baby? Not here, let’s go get a room first.” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes at how flirty he was.

“Can we get to cooking already?” Sam asked with a bitch face and you smiled at his obvious attempt and fail to hide his jealousy. You leaned up and pecked his cheek without a warning – but wait did you ever really warn them? - and nodded your head.

“Sam’s right, as much as I love you too goofballs my stomach really needs the food right now. And it’s that much I could almost chose it over you right now.” you said with chuckle, eyes focused on the task at hand and therefore you were unable to see the smiles that spread on both men’s faces.

“Mary” Castiel’s soft voice made the woman avert her eyes from the sight in front of her. Of course she’d heard the small word and of course unlike you she had not failed to see her sons’ smiles. They were so much alike not just between the two of them but also to that John had when she told him the first time that she loved him.

She knew that this wasn’t the first time you were saying the small word, she’d heard you say to Dean once and althoughshe hadn’t heard a thing she didn’t doubt you’d spoken it to Sam too. Maybe they didn’t say it back but she could see they wanted to and she could see crystal clear from their smiles that they felt it too.

She sighed, looking back at the angel “I’m sorry Castiel, I am just too occupied-”

“Thinking? Yeah, I noticed that. Is everything alright?” he asked with a small adorable frown and she sighed.

“I’m afraid that my answer will be no different from yesterday Castiel.” she looked down at her hands, shaking her head with a frown.

“Are you still worried that they might-”

“That’s the thing Cas.” she cut him off gently “It’s not a might, there is no single doubt about it anymore. I mean, look at the way they look at her. Look at the way they smile after she told them she loves them, they-” she felt her throat close and shook her head, rubbing her forehead.

“It’s… quiet complicated.” Castiel only said in a low voice as he watched you and the Winchesters too occupied with chatting and cooking to care to listen to anything else. It always seemed to be like this, whether you were with one or both of the two men you seemed to not have eyes for anything else. Your full attention was on him/them and nobody else.

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it.” she said “And I don’t even know where to stand, Castiel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always looked forward to this day, to see them smile like this: happy and without a single worry even if it was for just an hour. Because that would mean they’d found their own heaven in the woman they loved but now- what kind of heaven is this Castiel? How could any of them ever really be happy knowing that the other is actually in hell because of what is going on.”

“They’re strong, they- they will work it out.”

“Can it be worked out? I mean Castiel as a mother I only want them to be happy but- now I can’t have that because either way one of them will end up hurt. How am I supposed as a mother to stand seeing even one of my sons hurt like that? I always knew something like this would happen I just- I never wished for it to be exactly like this.”

“Their fate has been sealed long ago, Mary. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But I could do something- I should do. The moment I brought Sam as a baby back home from the hospital I saw that the bond they had started to develop would be the strongest one but- but I fear it, Cas. I fear that the bond I saw them develope years ago will be put to the test and I can’t stand to watch it.”

“Mary it’s their decision to make, it’s not your fault.” he tried to reassure her.

“It is but I- I am scared of that decision, Cas. Whatever it is we know that both of them will hurt one way or another. Their lives had been sealed ever since Dean first held Sam in his arms, they were tied and whatever choice one makes the other will face the consequences. One is meant to sacrifice for the other every time and vice versa- how can a mother deal with that Castiel?”

How?

Hi, Momma (Part 3)

(Series Masterlist)

Summary: You and Chuck organize a family reunion. You have a talk with Castiel about a certain Winchester.. 
Pairing: Chuck x Reader, Hit of Destiel
Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Gabriel, Raphael, Lucifer, Michael, Gadreel, Samandriel.
Word counting: 1.7k
Warnings: Personal headcanon that the archangels were kids once and could sleep if they wanted to. I also brought some angels back, ‘cause I can.  Castiel is asexual, but not aromantic. Family fluff.

Originally posted by lucifersagents

“Look.” You leaned down to your three sons, so they could see the small archangel in your arms. “This is your brother.”

Michael and Lucifer tilted their heads and Raphael stood on his toes to look at him properly.

“His wings are yellow.” He pointed, frowning.

“Golden.” You corrected him. “Gabriel has golden wings.”

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