Don't Ask Stupid Questions (or, Destiel Being Idiots)
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Castiel and Dean have a profound bond. Which means that Castiel can hear not only the prayers Dean sends out, but also music and singing. A lot of singing.
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Or, the 4 times Castiel endures the constant singing and humming in his head, and the 1 time he has enough.
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These damn witches always fuck shit up. This time, it's Castiel who pays the price and what other way to undo it, then to call the Winchester's 'favorite' witch?
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Or, Castiel loses his memory, Rowena gets it back and sees something she most certainly wishes to unsee inside Castiel's head.
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“Dean,” the low voice makes Dean jump a little but he plays it off by standing up and looking back at the scolding angel standing next to the fridge. “Your prayer was inappropriate.”
“Got you here, didn’t it?” Dean is sporting a winning smile and Cas glares at him.
“Oh, hey, you came.” Sam says, coming to meet them in the kitchen.
“And now it’s a party,” Dean says sarcastically but he notes that the angel looks a little… uncomfortable.
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Or, Dean starts to slip inappropriate scenarios into his prayers to Cas and it gets him one frustrated angel.
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It’s easy, after that, to call Cas when he is like this.
When the numbing is back and when the pain won’t leave him.
It’s easier than breathing, calling Cas and waiting for him like he is the remedy to his sickness. To his problems. To his tortures.
Castiel doesn’t ask him anything he doesn’t want to be asked and at first, Dean is grateful.
And when Cas stays there, holding him throughout the night and not leaving until the morning, he doesn’t say that he appreciates it.
That he wishes Cas wouldn’t go at all.
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Or, Dean needs to feel something, anything, and Castiel is the only one that can help him.
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“What have we here?”
The guard he’d locked eyes with is standing next to his colleague. He has a smirk on his face that could make even a good Christian think of various sins to commit, right there.
Dean tries to think of something else. Like puppies. Yeah, Sam has a dog. What was his name again?
“I’ve got this, Ralph.” the guard says and when he steps over, Dean can read the tag on his shirt. ‘Castiel’.
God, even his name sounds hot as fuck.
Dean scolds himself. ‘Get it together, Jesus’ his brain supplies. Dean’s trying to avoid spontaneous combustion when the guard takes out a long, black stick and points it at him.
“I’m going to have to check you, Sir, if you don’t mind.” he smiles, perfect teeth of course, and Dean swallows so loud, he’s sure even the dead could hear him.
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” he says and the guard swings the stick, indicating for him to step aside just a little.
The guard, Castiel, comes closer until they’re almost chest to chest.
Dean has stopped breathing by now.
And then, Castiel kneels down and Dean almost groans.
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An AU based on that TSA skit.
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Cas’ leans in automatically and Dean doesn’t pull away, their foreheads touching from the sides, as Dean leads them in a small circle.
Dean laughs, when Cas does stumble, and Cas blushes and says “Stop laughing,” but Dean doesn’t, so Cas leans in to press a quick kiss on his lips to make him stop.
And Dean smiles at him, hand on Cas’ shoulder holding on tighter as they sway in an even slower rhythm.
It’s Cas’ turn to laugh when Dean bumps into the table and the hunter scowls at him and promises to step on his toes the next time.
They don’t hear anything else, don’t see anything else.
Not the way the clock on the table shows ‘12:08’ or the way the door is slightly ajar.
They don’t see Sam behind the door, leaning onto the doorframe and shaking his head at them, with a fond smile on his face.
And all the while, the song still plays and plays.
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It's not just movie nights in the Dean-Cave, people.Series
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Hey, you remember... remember when you asked if we could stop it? All the evil in the world?
Yeah.
If we could... really change things? Well, maybe with Jack, we can.
Maybe you're right. But then what will we do?
Mm. Yeah. This. (holds up a beer) A whole lot of this. But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls.
You talking about retiring? You?
If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.
I'll drink to that.
Yeah. Hell, yeah.
13x23 Let The Good Times Roll
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Castiel looks down at the human, Dean Winchester, speaking of starlight and beauty and he thinks that maybe heavenly doesn’t mean heaven-made or heaven-touched. Maybe heavenly is this.
A man, in Heaven’s bounds, looking up at an Angel not with piety or fear, but with devout determination to make him understand - beautiful, however flawed.
Dean Winchester is heavenly.
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Castiel always orders food when they are out eating. Not that the angel actually needs to eat, because, well. They don't. But Dean does. And Castiel is more than happy to give Dean his share of the portion.
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Basically, some Destiel fluff and feels inbetween a hunt.
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Cliche rain-kisses and the my-heart-beats-for-you-tropes.
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A while back (like a while-while) I posted these on instagram, because they were very short snippets and they've been in my notes ever since. Then I thought, hey, why not post them here? The timeline is weird, because it's just after the whole Empty thing and Cas being a newly-turned human, so there's that. But still, I wanted to put them here, somewhere. Those of you who haven't read these yet, I hope you like them.
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Castiel, the Angel of the Lord, gets shrunk into being 5-inches tall (ahem, short). That's a whole lot of short-jokes and Dean, along with Sam and Jack, spare no expense on making the best of the situation.
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Some things need to be broken first, in order to fix them.
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A fic inspired by the lyrics of Let's Hurt Tonight by OneRepublic.
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What happens in the bunker, when the hunters take a day off from hunting? Have you ever seen an angel use a vacuum cleaner or a nephilim mattress-surfing? Dean's pretty sure cleaning is over-rated, but between Jack's excitement about dusting and mattress-surfing, Sam's nagging 'your room is too messy, Dean' and Castiel's, well, everything, Dean's has his hands full. Quite literally.
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Habits turn into traditions. Traditions turn into blackmail material. And family, well, that is something that always stays. At least for Castiel.
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Castiel has the abilities of an angel, meaning he can make someone explode with the snap of his fingers or to heal someone's liver. So why shouldn't he be able to do other things, like make Dean spontaneously orgasm in his kitchen. 'Cause that's just how Cas rolls.
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