avyssoseleison:

Castiel notices when he places his hand on a furious Dean, and it only takes one glance back at him for Dean’s rage to immediately abate and for him to lean into the touch.

The next time is when they are having a heated argument, have been for at least half an hour, and Castiel decides that enough is enough; he stands up as straight as he can, directs his seething gaze at Dean and speaks in a level, commanding voice, “We will not.” And Dean blinks, averts his gaze to the floor, swallows heavily and nods. His cheeks seem just that bit rosier. They do as Castiel says.

Then, they are caught in an utility closet during a hunt in a school house, and there is no other way but for them to step away from the door as much as possible to not let their scent disclose their location. So Castiel presses closer towards Dean, who is caught against the wall opposite the door, effectively trapping Dean’s body between himself and the wall, and Dean… just goes pliant. His limbs relax, his whole stance loses quite a bit of the strain of a hunt, his eyelashes flutter and his breathing evens out. It makes it easier for Castiel to draw even closer, become nothing but another wall for Dean, but he can’t help but enjoy the willing warmth of Dean, or Dean’s soft, embarrassed sound and his shining eyes when Castiel is so close that he can feel the growing bulge in Dean’s jeans. But before Castiel can react in any way that he wishes — kissing Dean, telling him how there is no shame in how beautifully he reacts, showing him how his own body takes pleasure from their position — the door flings open and a bloodthirsty werewolf rips them out of the closet.

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boykingdom:

Dean never expected that he’d crack first.

Neither did Cas, he thinks. Nor Sam. Everybody assumed that if somebody were going to make the first move, it would be Cas.

He was, of course, well aware of the fact that he and Cas had somewhere along the line over-stepped the boundaries of “just friends.” He doesn’t know if it was “I need you” or “I’m not leaving here without you,” if it was “cursed or not” or “a more profound bond.” Hell, it could have been “don’t ever change.” Or maybe even “I was getting too close to the humans in my charge.”

The point is, Dean doesn’t know.

Not that it matters. It feels like forever that he’s been living with a permanent ache in his chest, that he’s kept the other side of the bed cold and open, that his brother has been giving him these looks like he’s eggshell thin, like “fragile; handle with care” has been smacked right across his forehead.

Sometimes, though, the ache abides. Sometimes he’s consumed with a happiness he’s never known, sometimes he feels like he’s floating, sometimes Cas looks at him like he’s something beautiful and his heart squeezes in his chest and he thinks to himself, hey, maybe being in love isn’t actually a death sentence.

This isn’t one of those nights.

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boykingdom:

okay but au where dean goes deaf in one ear.

it was due to angels, probably. sons of bitches had too many things to say and not the right types of voices to say them, and they blew out dean’s right ear drum. it sucks (especially on hunts) and he’s pissed, but he can deal. at…

chevrolangels:

Imagine your OTP proposing repeatedly at different restaurants to get free food
completely the fault of this prompt

“You ready?”

“Wait, lemme—okay. Yeah. Go.”

“Don’t do that dewey eyes thing again. I nearly burst out laughing last time.”

“Just shut up and go—the waiter’s coming.”

Dean hastily leans back, fumbling with the cheap velvet box in his palm. Cas is barely suppressing his grin, pretending to be interested in the dessert menu.

The waitress is at the table opposite them, and Dean taps his fingers patiently against his leg. Just a little bit closer.

“You know, I was gonna wait ‘til we got back home, but I don’t think I can anymore.”

Cas looks up, expression of surprise just on the edge of believable.

“Dean?” He asks carefully.

“Dammit, Cas, I can’t stand it!”

Dean throws his napkin down, standing with a dramatic flourish. Heads are starting to turn towards their table, and their waitress is staring at them, her mouth open. Dean fights back his grin. Jackpot.

He drops to one knee, and all around them, surprised gasps and a couple stunned oh my gods echo through the restaurant.

Dean holds up the ring (something they dug out of the bottom of a 99 cent bin in Walmart), adding a hesitant edge to his voice.

“Castiel,” he says gravely. “Love of my life. Will you—will you marry me?”

Cas presses a hand to his heart, his lip trembling a little. (Damn him and those acting classes he took their senior year of college, the fucker.)

“Dean,” he breathes. “Of course. Of course!”

Dean is immediately yanked up in the arms of his pseudo-fiancé, as the restaurant dissolves into a cacophony of whoops and applause. Cas smiles against his lips.

“Nailed it,” he whispers.

“As always,” Dean whispers back. Then he kisses him again, because hey—that was the best part of the fake proposing, getting to make out with Cas in front of everyone.

Well, that, and the free food.

It happened kinda by accident.

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masturbatedean:

vanaiza-deactivated20201025:

for archangcl as a belated birthday gift - sorry it’s so late doll D: but here is dean turned into a kitty :3 (a little bit of a canon divergence - no MoC and Cas has wings again  but they still live in the bunker) 

Castiel appeared in a flutter of wings at Sam’s beck and call, hearing the younger Winchester’s distress. “Sam?”

Sam spun around, looking nervous for a moment, before sighing and simply stepping to the side. On the hotel bed, on top of one of Dean’s plaid shirts, rested a tan tabby cat with beautiful green eyes; not emerald or some other type of overly grass green. No, the cat’s eyes were like a grassy field in the late autumn day. 

“Dean?” Castiel asked, his head tilting to the side. He could have sworn the cat sighed. 

“Um, we sorta have a problem,” Sam said with a nervous smile. “We ran into a witch… and… um… Well, Dean’s now a cat.” Dean, the cat, sneezed. “I also think he’s allergic to himself." 

Castiel sighed and walked up to the furry animal, slowly picking Dean up, despite Dean’s disgruntled meow. He held Dean up to his face and squinted his eyes. “Do I want to know?” 

Dean looked away and drooped his body and ears. Sam came to stand beside them, holding up his hands in uncertainty. Eventually, Castiel tucked Dean in his arms and began to carry the cat out of the motel. Sam was hot on his heels, gathering up their belongings. 

"Can you fix him?” Sam asked as he went to put their bags in the Impala. They’d been on the case for four days and Sam was definitely ready to go home. 

“Maybe,” Castiel said as he disappeared with Dean in his arms. 

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deancasheadcanons:

heyooooooo i just posted chapter 16 of the chronicles of dean’s bisexuality

bookkbaby:

Dean’s not really sure how they ended up here.

There had been the cards, the the beer, and Cas’s lips looking so fucking pretty and perfect by candlelight in the abandoned house they planned to summon Raphael to tomorrow.

It wasn’t like Dean had never noticed before. He’d noticed Cas, even back when Cas was Castiel, Angel of the Lord and a complete dick. And then, what with the final seal and Cas rebelling-

Well, Dean had noticed.

And with tonight being possibly their last night on Earth (seriously, who summons an archangel? Even into a (pretty dinky, in Dean’s opinion) ring of holy fire?)-

It would be a fucking shame if Cas died without ever having had so much as a kiss. Or so Dean figured, and as the only person with the angel right now, it was his civic duty-

Ok, so he’d just really wanted to kiss Cas in case tonight was the last night he had the chance.

He’d taken another swallow of beer for courage, then licked his lips clean. Cas’s eyes had flicked to follow the movement for a second, and Dean had felt his confidence swell.

He’d nudged up closer to Cas on the couch (because somehow playing poker had turned to sitting side by side playing blackjack) and leaned in. A thousand questions were on his tongue, hovering in the air between them.

‘Is this ok?’

'Do you want this?’

’Please want this.’

Cas had breathed ‘Dean’ and shifted forward, mouth tentative and soft against Dean’s own.

One kiss had turned into two into three into fifteen into thirty. Sixty. Dean had lost count. All that mattered was the gentle pressure of Cas’s mouth on his, sweet and following Dean where he led. Tongues and lips and teeth, fuck, Dean could have done this for hours.

But it was late, they’d had a long day, and Dean was already more than a little sleepy. And Cas’s body was firm and warm beneath him, his arms heavy like blankets above, and though Dean tried valiantly to keep their kisses going, he found himself falling asleep.

His kisses grew slow and lazy. His eyes slid shut.

Cas gave a sound that was half-chuckle, half-sigh, and entirely fond. He pressed his lips to Dean’s hairline.

“Sleep, Dean,” Cas whispered. There was a beat of silence. “And thank you. This was… the best last night on Earth I could have hoped for.”

Dean wanted to snort, to leer and say he could think of one thing that would make it better.

But he was warm, and comfortable, and Cas had just sounded so sincere…

Dean just nuzzled closer and let himself drift off.

herowords:

I needed something happy. So I wrote myself something happy. — Domestic AU in which there is a 3 yo daughter, a black boa, and a very handsy Cas.

“Daddy, will you have a tea party with me?”

Dean casts his glance over the newspaper he’s been scouring and looks at his…

mishallaneously:

mishallaneously:

based on an actual coffee shop i witnessed (don’t worry it’s deancas just from another perspective)

“When you said you wanted to go out I didn’t think you meant to Starbucks,” Lisa groaned as Aaron stopped them outside the coffee shop. “You have a problem, seriously.”…

jealoussam:

imagine the first time Dean asks Cas to sleep with him. Not to mess around or anything but just to join him in bed. Because he knows Cas pops in randomly during the night and he’s sick of waking up with Cas standing over him like a creep and even though Sam’s in the next bed when Dean wakes up with Cas there he doesn’t care and just pats the bed next to him, scooting over to make space. And at first Cas doesn’t get it so Dean hisses at him to lay down and Cas quickly obliges. And the first few nights they repeat that awkwardly until one night Dean rolls over into Cas and throws an arm around him while he’s asleep and Cas doesn’t really know what to do so he lays there for a while until he just brings a hand up and rests it on Dean’s arm. Then that happens a few more nights and Dean always wakes up long before Sam so it’s not a problem but then one morning Sam wakes up first and Dean is still passed out, head resting on Cas’ chest and arm tightly around him. And Cas almost nudges Dean to wake up but Sam just smiles and goes into the bathroom without a comment because he’s honestly not surprised. 

(Source: natxromanova)