#destiel ficlet
Can we talk about Dean and his records?
And how he goes literally bat shit insane if anyone disrupts the way he’s organized them.
Like anyone looking at his shit would go “yeah okay so it’s alphabetized” and start going through his records and he’d immediately KNOW when coming back because it’s not only alphabetized but organized by year and artists.
Bottom line is, he’s insane.And at one point like, Cas is the one to do the thing.
But he knows Dean’s little quirks and how he does this thing and what matters to him
He knows his favorite records and why Hey Jude is always right next to the turntable, and not ordered inside his collection
And he knows how to make sure Dean doesn’t know he touched, but he also wants him to know he did
Because he wants Dean to know he cares
He wants Dean to know he knows how important these things are for him
Cas leaves them like a bit out, like- the right place but just messy enough for Dean to notice as like “ah, Cas has been here” poke. Edges not perfect but placement correct
And so one time Dean walks in and Cas put on Who’s Next
And Behind Blue Eyes is playing
It’s right before the drums break
And Dean just stands there
Looking at the ex angel of the lord sitting crossed legged in the middle of the Dean cave
Not even seeing him
Listening to one of his favorite record
In his safe space
On the floor
Wearing his fucking t shirt
And he fucking cracks
Because it’s too fucking much
He’s here and they’re here and there’s no monsters no evil to chase
He’s listening to one of his favorite records in a home they share
And he’s fucking tearing up over the whole thing
He starts sobbing like an absolute goddamn baby
So of course Cas ends up figuring out that someone is there
And he turns around and he sees him
The big absolute idiot that’s tearing up leaning against the door frame
And he’s beautiful
And he fucking loveshim
But he’s also like
Shit I disrupted his collection
He’s going to fucking killme
Deer in the headlights and everything
So he just goes, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”
Not moving
And Dean scoffs, rolls his eyes
Takes two steps in, sinks to his knees
And kiss the ever loving fuck out of this stupid motherfucker
“If you scratched this record I will make you pay for it”
“I did not scratch your record.”
Dean smiles
I don’t have an ending they’re just stupid idiots in love
~The end~
(Shoutout to @curioussubjectsand@alwaysanoriginal for indulging me that one night weeks ago, you’re the true MVPs ⭐️)
— Taglist under the cut; ask to be added or removed —
Dean tells Cas he’s in love with him as an April Fools “joke” and Cas—not knowing what April Fools is—says it back, and Dean’s brain short-circuits.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
It’s a joke, of course, but Dean is still surprised by how easily he’s able to say it. Cas drops the stack of books he’s holding and Dean watches as his eyes go wide as saucers.
Perfect reaction. Just what Dean was hoping for. It’s been awhile since he’s been able to land a solid April Fools Day prank. Sam has long since been immune to any and all of Dean’s antics, and Dean wouldn’t dare try anything on Eileen (he’s sort of terrified by the prospect of her counter-attack, truth be told). He had a short bout of success with Jody a couple years running, but that was before she threatened to hijack Baby and take her on a joy ride, and he knows better than to take that as an empty threat.
That inevitably left Cas as the most likely victim. Problem is, Cas is pretty unfazed by most things. Too stoic, too skeptical. But Dean has never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn’t about to let this April 1st pass him by. He’d just need to think outside the box.
So yeah, Dean had decided to tell Cas he’s in love with him. Not really in love with him, obviously. Or not like that, at least. I mean, does he love Cas? Sure. He’s his best friend, after all. Loves him like a brother. Or maybe… not exactly like a brother. But that’s normal. That’s fine. People don’t love their friends like they love their family, anyway. And that’s probably better for the sake of the prank, right? That only makes it more believable.
And it appears it’s working, because Cas is now standing in front of Dean, mouth agape, white as a ghost.
(sorry that i think cas was at his hottest in season 4. as if it’s my fault.) inspired by my own tags on this gifsetfrom@gentlemancowboy like a month ago
Dean is faking sleep – Sammy only just knocked off, tossing and turning and muttering on Bobby’s couch that he outgrew more than ten years ago – when Castiel fizzles into existence. Hell is still screaming through his head and for a minute he can’t tell the difference between the soft black of the back of his eyelids and the cold void of hellfire.
The sound of wings, though, is familiar. The sound of Castiel coming is familiar, like some distant memory tucked away in his time below.
His heart is going triple-time in the cage of his chest and the rapid pulse roils through shame and guilt and hurt, like it’s still trying to pound out of Victor’s ice grip. There’s a roaring in his ears that maybe sounds like Viktor’s scream so he can’t be sure of what he says to the angel (if that’s what this even is). He just knows that it’s snatchy and prickly because he doesn’t know how to be anything else in this situation. Every time he blinks he sees the bodies of people he let die: hunters, civilians, people just doing their jobs, innocent bystanders. Witnesses.
He comes back to himself when the angel in front of him tosses his hands up in defeat. It’s something, to annoy a celestial being into petulance, but Dean figures that’s Castiel’s fault. He’s the one who groped him out of Hell after all. Dean is his problem, now.
Castiel moves in closer and Dean is reminded of big cats in the wild, stalking in on cornered prey. Fever rises in him, a contrast against the high-whine of desperation that has been flooding his system since Victor reached for his heart, since Meg put the beat-down on him, since he crawled out of his own grave.
“You should show me some respect,” Castiel rasps out and Dean’s breathing catches in his throat. The angel is close enough that Dean can smell the off-center scent coming off him, something like metal melting and the milk of dandelion. He’s close enough that Dean can tell he isn’t breathing, doesn’t need to breathe.
“I dragged you out of Hell,” the angel says, voice whip-tight and Dean hears himself in it, an echo of Dean’s regret and guilt borne in Castiel’s admittance that six of his brothers were killed. “I can throw you back in.”
It’s a threat but Dean’s wiring has always been more than a little crossed, so he’s not surprised that it makes heat surge through his chest and straight down to his dick.
Dean doesn’t always pay attention in his English class, but he has a good reason.
That reason’s name is Cas Milton, and Cas sits next to him in Intro to English Literature, taking thorough, color-coded notes with borderline terrifying precision and speed. Cas always lets Dean borrow his notes to copy and is often game for a study session at the campus coffee shop.
So maybe Dean’s not learning a lot about the core concepts of literature, but he’s gotten really good at flirting using Shakespeare.
(They don’t get a lot of studying done at the coffee shop.)
PB 100 Prompt Fill - Core
Dean has seen some really weird shit in his life, alright? But nothing is weirder than the way Cas eats apples.
Cas crunches into the bottom first. The bottom,with the hairy leftovers of the apple blossom. And he keeps going until there’s nothing left, not even a core. Only a few seeds spit politely into his hand and the little twiggy stem.
So, Dean thinks, no one can really blame him when he gets caught staring at Cas’ mouth, shiny with juice, and no one can really blame him when he finally caves and kisses Cas for a taste.
PB 100 Prompt Fill - Baby
Dean didn’t know where the time had gone. It his memory, clear as a bell, Jack is a chubby baby, toddling around in the grass, chasing after a robin, screaming with laughter every time the bird hops further away. Sunlight warms his sandy hair, makes the grass verdant and Jack’s blue t-shirt the vibrant blue of a robin’s egg.
He blinks, tears threatening, and returns to the present moment, heart aching with grief yet swollen with pride, watching their son walk across a stage and graduate high school. Dean glances at Cas just as Cas looks at him, too, and sees his own feelings reflected in his husband’s eyes. He slides his arm around Cas’ shoulders and Cas snuggles into him, hearts full of love, moving forward but still longing for the past.
Don’t wake the baby is an easy thing to say, but a hard thing to do.
Sleepless nights turn into sleepy mornings regularly these days. Instead of making a pot of coffee first thing, Dean warms a bottle of formula. The war room has been taken over by a playpen and they baby-proofed the goddamn firing range.
Maybe Dean’s not getting a lot of sleep and his life has been turned on its head, but all of that means nothing whenever Dean rounds a corner and sees Cas with Jack in his arms. It’s kind of the best thing he’s ever seen.
And then Jack starts crawling.
PB 100 Prompt Fill - Husk
In the small hours of the morning, Sam sneaks around the bunker tidying up after his brother.
No, that’s not quite right: He sneaks around tidying up after the husk of a person that used to be his brother.
Sam can’t remember ever seeing Dean like this, so completely beside himself with grief he can barely function. Dean’s fine if he’s got a weapon in his hand and something to hunt. He can run on autopilot like that for weeks at a time; Sam’s seen it. But in their downtime? Dean is three sheets to the wind by the time lunch rolls around, and who knows when was the last time he showered.
No, Dean without Castiel isn’t Sam’s big brother. He’s something else entirely.
Read on AO3
Dean takes his time, running his fingers over the banister of the porch. The white paint is chipping and worn down, but the wood, he can tell, is quality. No splinters, no cracking, no warping. It’s nice. He drags in a deep breath, his senses flooding with the scent of pine trees as the warm early-autumn air blows through them. The sky is clear, save for a couple little puffs of cloud here and there. And as his eyes scan the sky, he waits for it – that impending sense of doom and dread. Even when he’s trying to relax, it’s always there, bubbling beneath the surface. There’s a reason he’s slept with a gun under his pillow for three decades.
But he’s struck with the sudden realization: it’s not there. All he feels is calm and peace. Something he’s never really known.
Well, that’s not true, he silently amends.
He felt peace with Cas.
Frowning, Dean drops his head and closes his eyes. Cas… Fuck, he misses him. He misses everything about him. He misses telling Cas jokes that land like a fucking brick in front of him. He misses the tie that’s always askew. He misses that mess of hair. He misses those eyes Dean can, and often has, get lost in. He misses that trench coat. He misses Cas, plain and simple. And while he feels calm and peaceful here… it does feel like a piece of him is missing. It’s probably not supposed to. Not here. But it does.
It’s comforting to know he escaped the torment of the Empty… but, “Damn it, Cas,” he breathes, wrapping both hands around the banister.
“Hello, Dean.”
Standing suddenly, Dean opens his eyes and whips around. Cas is standing beside the battered screen door, smiling warmly at Dean. “Cas,” he breathes, his eyes wide as he looks him over, like he’s taking inventory of all his favorite things. Messy hair, check; crooked tie, check; trench coat, check; breathtaking eyes, check… Cas, check. “It’s–”
“Yes,” Cas nods. “It’s me.”
Dean surges forward, throwing his arms around him in a crushing hug. He buries his face against Cas’s neck and closes his eyes, breathing him in. It’s another thing he’d previously forgotten to add to his list of things he missed. That clean, earthy smell that was somehow distinctlyCastiel.
When he pulls away, his hand slips down Cas’s arm to his hand, his thumb brushing the inside of Cas’s wrist. He heaves a breath, the line between his brows deepening. “You’re a dick, you know that?” He says suddenly.
Cas blinks in surprise and tilts his head. “I– what?”
Dean purses his lips and shakes his head. “You drop somethin’ like that on me and then just fuck off to the netherworld?”
“I wasn’t in the Netherworld, I was–”
“In the Empty, whatever. You’re still a dick.”
Cas lifts his eyes to the ceiling of the porch, as if the answer to Dean’s outburst is written there. “I still don’t underst–”
“You drop that on me and then you die, and you didn’t give me a chance to say anything.”
“I didn’t think there was anything for you to say.”
Dean scoffs, incredulous. Didn’t think there was anything for him to say? “What show have you been watching, huh?”
“I haven’t been watching television.”
Though outwardly, Dean appears frustrated, he fucking missed this. But something suddenly occurs to him. “Wait.” He shakes his head, those lines between his brows growing deeper. “You really didn’t think I’d have somethin’ to say? You didn’t think I–”
“Reciprocated?” Cas says. He frowns, casting his glance downward. “No, Dean. I didn’t.”
“Well you’re dead wrong.”
One corner of Cas’s lips turn up in a smirk. “I believe we’re both deceased now.”
Scoffing, Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did you just make a joke?”
“Yes,” Cas’s smile widens, “I believe I did.”
“Alright, listen.” Dean grasps the back of Cas’s neck, his fingers brushing up into his hair. There’s no sense of fear or uncertainty welling up inside of him anymore. He’s in Heaven. He gets what he wants. There’s no fear of judgment or self-sacrifice anymore. He’s just gonna fucking go for it. “I love you, Cas. I shoulda said somethin’ a long time ago, but I-I-I was scared, okay? I’m sorry. But–” He cuts himself off and glances out over the farmhouse’s property; the sprawling lawn (that he can’t wait to mow) surrounded by lush trees; the path that leads to the garage that houses Baby. The house he’s always imagined for himself, but always knew wasn’t a possibility. “This is about havin’ peace, right?” His gaze turns back to Cas’s, and he swallows the emotion rising in his throat. “We get forever here.”
“That is the idea, yes.”
Dean licks his lips and takes a step closer. His shoes bump Cas’s, and his hands slips further into the back of Cas’s hair. “Then that means I get forever with you, right?”
Cas is smiling, and he pulls his free hand out of the coat pocket. He grabs a fistful of Dean’s jacket and Dean watches his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows, Cas’s eyes roaming Dean’s face. “Of course, Dean.”
Dean breathes out in relief. All at once, that feeling that a puzzle piece was askew; the feeling that something was missing dissipates. Forty-one years of sacrifice and loss earned him this: a life of peace with the love of his life – the love that had come completely out of left field and left him breathless. Forty-one years of sacrifice and loneliness and loss earned him the love of a millennia-old angel who thought he was worth something. Worth everything.
He kisses Cas then. It’s soft and slow and gentle. There’s no sense of urgency or fear or desperation behind it. It’s being lovingly handed what he’s always wanted; what he’d always been missing. And, well… he’s in Heaven, so that makes a whole lot of sense.
When they part, Dean keeps his forehead against Cas’s, and they’re both smiling. Finally, Dean rocks back enough to meet Cas’s eyes. He tips his head toward the house and raises a brow. “Wanna come in. Stay a while?” He presses his lips together and shrugs. “I’m thinkin’ maybe forever?”
“I’d like nothing more.” Cas smiles, and Dean feels warmth flooding his chest. In Cas’s smile, Dean feels content. He feels like he’s home. He’s waited his whole life to feel like this. He tried, with Lisa and Ben, but that piece of the puzzle just wasn’t there. He tried with the Bunker, and while he loved that place… there was always just something not quite right. But here, he has Cas. He feels calm. He has no feeling of cosmic obligation or the feeling that he’s running the clock. He has everything he’s ever wanted.
For the first time, and for the rest of time, Dean Winchester is at peace.
Hello, beautiful people, I just hit 700 followers!
To celebrate, because I’m back on my DeanCas bull shit and #cantstopwontstop, send me asks with your headcanons or mini prompts, and I’ll write you a drabble!
Hello, beautiful people, I just hit 700 followers!
To celebrate, because I’m back on my DeanCas bull shit and #cantstopwontstop, send me asks with your headcanons or mini prompts, and I’ll write you a drabble!
Reblogging if you want to send me fix-it headcanons, fix-it prompts, Heaven prompts, etc.
SEND ME THINGS WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER!
Two Sand Dunes
Wc 421, established relationship, fluff, beach trip, cheesy jokes
For@icefire149 here’s todays beach joke
Waves crashing, seagulls crying, and the hot June air are sending Dean into a comfortable doze. The bright afternoon sun is creating sparkling patterns through his eyelids. He had played in the water some with Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Claire before surrendering to the beach towel’s call. And Cas. Cas who was still frolicking in the water now- undoubtedly collecting a metric shit ton of shells- even after the others had gone inside for a break.
Dean is laying on his stomach, head resting on an actual small pillow because Cas is smart, arms bracketing his head. He can’t recall ever being this relaxed before.
He feels more than hears Cas return. Cool palms press against his shoulders and turn to fingers dancing down his spine. Dean can’t help but smile even as he squirms against the sensation.
Attempting to guess where Cas is he swats a hand above himself. “Babe your hands are freezing!"
"Oh?” Cas’ voice is much closer than he anticipated. “I didn’t realize.” Cas moves his hands to Dean’s sides and starts tickling, stealing his breath and ability to speak. An embarrassing giggle escapes his lips and tears begin to trail down his face. Cas’s hands still.
“It’s time to reapply sunscreen."
Dean blinks through the tears. "Cas, the hell? You literally could have asked like a normal person!"
Cas helps Dean up and pulls them close together. He leans forward and Dean grins in anticipation but its Cas’ freezing swim shorts that come into contact with Dean’s sun warmed body. He definitely does not shriek. Cas holds him there for a second, "I am not a normal person.”
Dean rolls his eyes and gently pushes Cas away. “You are now, babe. Hence the sunscreen break.” Cas scowls adorably.
They take turns reapplying sunscreen to each other, taking care to get those easily forgotten about spots. Then they sit on the beach towel side by side as they wait for the sunscreen to set. Dean stares out into the ocean and feels himself drifting off again.
After a few minutes, Cas gently picks up Dean’s hand.
“Dean, what did one sand dune say to the other?”
Dean smiles even as he huffs. “Another one? Uh ok um… I dunno, Cas, long time no sea?”
Cas brings his other, slightly sandy, hand up to Dean’s face. “No, it said I will never desert you.”
“And the other sand dune said me either.” Dean murmurs as he leans in to press a kiss to Cas’ sea salty lips.
When the makeout’s so good your angel boyfriend’s about to dematerialize
(Don’t repost)
Little ficlet below the cut ;)
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