#Castiel is nesting

[indubioprocoffee]

“What the hell is all this, Cas?” Dean asked, when Cas came back from the grocery store. This certainly wasn’t just pizza and beer.

“I- Maybe I got a little carried away,” Castiel admitted. “But this is the first autumn in our home and …” He looked around in the still empty house. Moving boxes standing everywhere, bare walls, little furniture. “Remember when you gave me the white furry blanket for movie nights?”

“Sure, but-“

“I wanted our home to be more like that blanket; more homely. So I bought some cozy treats for us. I know all this stuff isn’t necessary and money is tight right now, but …”

“Alright, show me,” Dean interjected, coming closer to the counter to examine the bags Cas had placed there.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

Dean sighed. “This makes you happy right?”

Castiel nodded.

“So it makes me happy too. Show me, so we can be happy together.”

Hesitantly Castiel started to unpack the bags. “First of all, some candles. But not for rituals, we still don’t have lamps … And their light calms me.” He was looking at Dean for approval.

“Candlelight can be really cozy,” Dean admitted.

“Some fake leaves,” Castiel continued, “Because our walls depress me. Something called pumpkin spice latte.”

“Sam would love that.”

“Another furry blanket, because you are a blanket stealer.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Dean objected

“You are. That’s just fact. Let’s see, what else … A bath bomb, maybe we could inaugurate our bathtub tonight.”

“Good thinking.” Dean was wetting his lips, but Cas ignored him, fully captivated by his purchases.

“Some fairy lights and some apple pie. And no, they didn’t have cherry, I specifically asked,” ended Castiel his haul.

“I didn’t think you were the nesting type,” Dean mumbled.

“You don’t like it.”

“No, Cas. I love it. I love that you are trying to make this house a home. Our home. I never really had one; not like this. This is great.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Why don’t we lit some of these candles, let some hot water in the bathtub and test whatever this bath bomb does?”

“I’d very much like that.”

@wigglebox

[overrated-sheep]

no clever third option. can only save one. you can explain your reasoning UwU

[melle-otterwise]

Gift for @hectatess 💙💙

Here are mountain blue bird Cas and sparrow Dean 🐦🐦

[tummy-pain]

My girlfriend is trying to argue with me that Supernatural did not queer bait or bury their gays and that it wasn’t bad representation, but neither of us finished the show we just heard about the ending through social media. Could someone more versed on the topic fill her in?

[roachingurcoach]

urgg he loves that robe because he loves being held and snuggled. he loves his pajamas because he likes being warm and bundled up urggggg. Get him more blankets nowwwwwww.

[soothfog]

don't be nervous. whatever has to happen will happen. no one gets out of that. / from castiel

"I can do it. Give me a minute." The tie hangs from Lee's neck—impotently. Some things a man ought to be able to do no matter his state. But Lee's hands are shaking. The silk tie—the only one he owns (the one he will wear to his first wedding in a little under three years, he recalls now (perhaps, he thinks, because his hands are just as shaky on that day (his gaze briefly, inquisitively flicks to Castiel's face to see if he can somehow detect Lee's act of remembering)))—is uglily creased in several spots from his last two attempts at tying the damned thing. The future memory does nothing to soothe him. Castiel's words do nothing to soothe him.

Lee's tone was curt, lashing; the distance of a simple minute allows for him to acknowledge that. Only because it has passed. Occurred, committed. The event now only ever as active as a modifier not a verb. His hands pause. Castiel does not deserve Lee's nervousness (knotted, as clumsily as his tie, into frustration). It's not for Castiel; it's immaturely displaced on him like a lazy litterer who doesn't want to walk to the nearest trash receptacle, where it belongs. He breathes. He looks Castiel respectfully in the eye, voice softened with shame: "I'm sorry."

Future memories are active.

Malignant. In ways the past can't be.

Lee tries again, twisting the tie around itself, fingers carefully stuffing the front through the collection of fabric: a simple oriental knot. His chin tilts up, exposing his neck, providing more space for his hands to blindly dress the clump. Not distractedly, the distractor: "It's one thing to know the devil exists. It's another thing to meet him. To know I will meet him." Lee tightens the tie and his fingers grope at the knot to assess his handiwork. Touch alone tells him nothing. He doesn't know what to feel for. He doesn't know why he thought he would. His chin tucks in skin-folds into his neck as he peers down far enough to see. The knot is bigger than he'd like and there's an amateurish ridge near one of the corners which he does his best to fix and then, when unsuccessful, hide (he hopes, at first without knowing, he does better on his wedding day; then he remembers his mother redoes it for him (this recognition of his mother (a figure from his past in his future) spurs a thought:). Quick enough from thought to mouth that the question remains curious and casual and hasn't been compounded with heavier, prerequisite implications that occur after: "Will he recognize you?" Lee asks while straightening his tie and rolling his neck to test the comfort (constricting, but he isn't redoing it). Ignoring the dawning weight of that question, he fans his arms out, presenting his appearance for approval.

[cas-coding]

stop giving me sexual omegaverse and please start giving me domestic omegaverse. like dean wanting a kid so bad he carries around a weighted stuffed animal during his heats and has a little bjornbaby carrier for it that he only wears when hes alone because hes embarrassed but he wants a kid so bad. and cas sees dean nesting like this and longing for a kid and he asks why dean hasnt had a kid or found a mate and its because dean cant have kids anymore, he got hurt on a case and so the stuffed animal is the best he has. and he wakes up the next morning and cas is trying and failing to cook food while carrying the stuffed animal around in the bjorn and thats when dean falls in love with him

[justaz]

i am so goddamn desperate and down bad for spn/pjo crossover fics. i NEED dean and percy to bitch about incompetent, pain in the ass immortals desperately. i NEED sam and annabeth to give each other the bitch face when dean and percy are being dumbasses. i NEED them bonding over going to hell. i NEED dean and sam to try and adopt percy and annabeth and try to protect them from this cruel, harsh world and then watch as they completely annihilate their enemies without breaking a sweat. nico catholic guilt activated. castiel looking at the winchesters like "wtf why are they here, what did u do???"

[sastielsfandom]

But what if Castiel was a dragon? And two hunters didn't know until they were added to their collection. (And Castiel adopts Jack into their collection before Jack's born.)

[gonna-need-you-to-not]

I'm tired and hormonal and I honestly can't BEAR any more 'angels=birds' posts/fics/art

I mean sometimes it's cute dont get me wrong but like

They're not birds

Massive 🙄🙄 to supernatural for making Angel wings look like bird wings

[deancasforcutie]

dean is like. my heart is a nest. i gathered sticks and twigs and leaves and plucked my own feathers to to make it comfortable for you. why won't you come home. and cas says i would stay caged behind your ribs but i'd have to break them first.

[ultravi0lence14]

Don’t Delete The Kisses

dean winchester x fem!reader

1.2k | fluff

summary: dean couldn’t bare to leave you when him and sam went on hunts. but the thought of kissing you when he got back home kept him going.

the memory of dean’s kisses were all you had when he would leave for long hunts.

every time, you would wait by the bunker door as sam loaded up the impala, holding onto dean as he assured you that him and his brother were going to be okay.

you had faith in them, they had been doing this for a long time after all. but with all the times they’ve died, been brought back to life, and even sent to hell, you were bound to worry a little.

before he’d get in the impala, dean would always press a lingering kiss to your cheek, telling you that he would kiss your lips when he got home. you didn’t understand why at first, but dean finally admitted that if he were to kiss your lips before a hunt, he’d never want to leave.

the eldest winchester always was a protecter. being accustomed at such a young age when watching sam. so even though he knew you were more than capable to handle yourself, the feeling of leaving you alone in a massive underground bunker where he was too far to keep you safe always had him worried.

you never wanted to be on the battlefield, always wanting to stay at home with bobby, read lore books, and give tips and advice to other hunters when needed.

but bobby had passed away, leaving you in the hands of the infamous winchester brothers.

not wanting to leave the only home you knew at first, you were adamant on not leaving with sam and dean and living a life on the road. but after the bunker came into the picture, and dean crawled his way into your heart, the past two years had gone by in a blur.

sitting and waiting for the boys to call was all you did at first, but after realizing some alone time would benefit you, the copious amounts of books moving into the bunker became something sam and dean got used to.

before the phone would ring with sam and dean on the other line, you’d be found in your room, book in hand as you absorbed new worlds and forms of literature. when that got too much for you, you’d find yourself sat in front of a tv, a new show playing every other week as you went through them pretty quickly to sam’s concern.

but you would still have that nagging feeling of dean’s absence. it settled deep into your bones, having you miss him so dearly it almost hurt sometimes.

he was the first boy you ever truly loved, and you’d be damned if he was torn away from you.

so you waited. waited for the fateful moment when the roar of the impala could be heard. when dean would come down the stairs and instantly go and try to find you. for when he did, dean would not waste a second in crushing his lips to yours; finally getting the feeling of you close to him again.

today was no different. sam and dean had been on a case in missouri for the past week tracking a vampires nest, and you couldn’t wait until they came home.

castiel had stopped by a couple days ago, but he had to leave quickly when the angels in heaven needed his assistance. you were left alone, reading the lore books that you hadn’t picked up in the bunker while playing online sudoku with charlie.

you had ventured into the kitchen only a half hour ago, grabbing a small snack before finding comfort in your bed. a new book was opened on your lap while an episode of your favourite tv show quietly played in the background.

the calming atmosphere you had created was quickly broken as the door to the bunker opened, the sound of boots clambering down the stairs as sam and dean’s voices flooded through the air.

you smiled to yourself, sitting up in bed and patiently waiting for dean to find his way to your room. when the door creaked open, you couldn’t help a wider grin breaking out onto your face as dean’s tall frame stood in your doorway.

he didn’t waste a second. coming to you in two long strides as he pushed you back onto the bed and smashed his lips onto yours. his hands found a home on your face as yours quickly went to his hair, threading your fingers through the strands as his moved from your cheeks down to your shoulders.

breathing in heavily as you pulled away, dean moved off of you so he could lean against the head rest of your bed. moving to pull you forward until you were attached to his side.

dean’s lips instantly went to your forehead, placing a delicate kiss before resting his head on yours. “god baby, i missed you so fucking much.” he all but breathed out, allowing you to curl deeper into his side.

placing a kiss on the inside of his arm, which was wrapped around your shoulder, you lifted your head so you could properly look into his eyes. “i missed you too. far too much than i should’ve actually.”

all dean did was laugh, shaking his head as he moved his chin to rest on top of your head. “thought sam was going to punch me for how much i was talking about you.” all you could do was lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips, slightly leaning back so your faces were close. “that makes us even then.”

for the next couple of hours, you and dean just calmly rested in your bed, quietly talking to each other about the case and what you had been doing for the past week.

the two of you could’ve stayed there forever if it wasn’t for sam peaking his head in and asking what you two wanted for dinner. when you all agreed on something, sam offered to go pick it up, promptly leaving as you moved to get off of dean’s chest.

“thinking of making some cookies for dessert, wanna join me?” you sat on the edge of the bed, dean reaching over to wrap his arm around your waist. only moving to rest his chin on your shoulder after your proposal of a sweet treat. “i’d be stupid to say no. cmon sweetheart, sam will be back soon.”

that’s how you spent the rest of your evening. baking with dean as you waited for sam to come back with dinner. ending the night as you and dean watched a movie to help you fall asleep.

dean looked down at your sleeping frame, stroking his fingertips up and down your arm as he wondered how he got so lucky.

he had a place to stay, his brother helping him fight the supernatural, and his girl by his side. what more could dean possibly want in life?

dean sometimes found himself thinking back to all those years ago, when he broke into sam’s apartment at stanford to bring him back into the hunting life. he was a 26 year old who spent his time with meaningless one night stands, leaving them in the morning and spending his energy on finding his dad. back then, dean didn’t think his life would get this good.

brushing your hair back from your face, dean realized he wanted to cherish each moment he got to kiss your lips. he wanted to remember what it was like to kiss your forehead, or even the small section of your palm. for forgetting what it was like to feel your love seeping into his pores through your delicate kisses would possibly be the worst thing to ever happen to dean winchester

[embarrasingmf]

what an idiot

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you don’t listen to Dean after he gives you an order, and now he’s smug about it.

WORD COUNT: 668

WARNINGS: a little bit of swearing, not beta’d so there may be typos…

A/N: I had no idea what to make the title ugheklekwjfj. also would’ve loved to write more but I couldn’t think of anything 😭😭

prompt/idea requested by @0ffwiththeirh3ads !

“Y’need to listen to me next time.” Dean chastised you. He had been doing so for the last ten minutes.

All because he had told you not to waltz on into the vampire nest like you owned the place.

For context, you and Dean were hunting down a vampire nest.

Well, aspiring vampire nest considering there was really only four vampires. And you thought you could take them all on your own.

You remember Dean’s words so clearly: “Don’t go running in there without me.”

Of course you didn’t listen, you practically bolted in there while shouting “Who made you the leader?” after him.

Now that you think about it, you should’ve listened to him. Because now you were stuck with Dean patching up your injuries from trying to take on four vampires by yourself.

You could just feel the smug aura coming off of him in waves. He was fucking enjoying this. He was enjoying the fact that he was able to scold you for not listening to him.

In your defense, he wasn’t the actual leader of whatever Godforsaken team you, Sam, Castiel, and Dean had named Team Free Will.

Dean probably just gave the title to himself, because he was the oldest. Well, oldest physically considering Castiel was a literal angel.

“Will you listen to me next time?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked over at him.

He was currently knelt down by your side so he could get better access to the deep gash on your torso as you sat on an uncomfortable motel chair.

You cleared your throat, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Dean tsk’d, shaking his head. “‘m gonna need a more definitive answer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Dean called everyone that. But he used it more on you to get under your skin.

And it worked, it worked so well.

You felt your head fall back, finding the popcorn-textured ceiling much more interesting than Dean all of the sudden.

You could feel his green eyes on you as he waited for your reply. You groaned before muttering a weak “yes,” under your breath.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear ya.” You grit your teeth, you could hear Dean’s smirk. You didn’t even have to look at him!

“Yes.”

That reply was much better than before, at least according to Dean it was, as he let out a small hum of contentment.

“Good,” He grinned, suddenly tugging on the makeshift stitch he had created to sew your wound tight.

You jumped in your seat as the sudden pain that shit through you. “Jesus Christ-!”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Nope, just me.”

You wanted to slap him. You wanted to slap some sense into him so bad.

“Fuck you…” You grunted under your breath, Dean didn’t reply as he kept working on your wound. His touch much more gentle now.

You averted your gaze from the ceiling and looked over at Dean’s hands deftly stitching your gash closed.

It would definitely scar, but hey, at least it would make a cool story to tell in the future.

After about five minutes, Dean patted your leg before standing up.

He stretched, his back and knees popping from kneeling down and being hunched over.

“I think you should get me some pie as a reward for actually patching you up.” Dean teased, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Nah, you can get that yourself.”

Dean pursed his lips together. “Oh c’mon, just do it!” He insisted.

“Fine!” You relented, shoulders slumping a bit. “But you owe me then.”

Dean raised his hands in the air as you pointed a finger at him. “Okay, I owe you a favor then I guess.” He chuckled, patting your back as a sign for you to get going and get him his pie.

“Better be back before I fall asleep, wouldn’t want to eat a cold pie in the morning.” He commented before you walked out of the room.

—————————————————————————

reblogs and feedback r appreciated! they keep me motivated <3

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie.

Part II

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

You've just given birth to Dean's baby and are a enjoying a quiet family moment in the days afterwards.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

The bunker was quiet first thing in the morning except for the usual hum of the circulation fans. You’d been there so long that they barely registered anymore, and you were extremely thankful that the consistent noise wasn’t a problem for the baby. That would have been a horror show. Trying to navigate parenthood with a baby awoken by the simplest of sounds. 

You shuddered at the thought. 

Life was always loud when you lived with Dean Winchester and his posse of colour characters. Between unexpected visitors and the brothers coming and going at odd hours, there was something new every day and often that new wasn’t good. 

But in that moment things were perfect. The monsters outside didn’t exist and you were a regular mom with a new baby and a husband who loved you. His bother Sam and best friend Castiel were an added bonus, the former serving as an unexpected asset when both you and Dean needed some rest.  

You crept carefully out of bed, your body still feeling weak, and quietly crossed to the crib by the wall. A set of hazel eyes stared up at you and your heart melted. 

“Good morning Miss Winnie.” You cooed, “Let’s get you up and at ‘em before you wake daddy.” 

You heard a small scoff followed by the shuffling of blankets. 

“Winnie?” Dean asked with a sleep-laden voice, “We ain’t calling her Winnie, sweetheart. I’ll accept those new-agey-hippy-names like Kendell and Kloe with a K before I’ll take Winnie.” 

“I’m just calling her that until we choose a name.” You laughed, lifting the little girl up into your arms, her head coming to rest on your chest, “And Winnie is short for Winchester in case you hadn’t pieced that together.” 

“I don’t care if it’s short for ‘daddy’s-little-angel’, it ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll cross that off my list then shall I?” You sat back on the bed, Dean coming up to nest beside you and his eyes immediately going to the baby in your arms. 

He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not a Winnie, are ya’ princess?” In that voice he seemed to only have adapted five days ago after the birth of your daughter; that voice reserved for her. 

“Maybe not. What about Meghan?” You suggest. 

“Oh nope. No can do. Knew a Meg once. Demon.” 

You nodded knowingly. No one wanted to name their child after a monster. 

“Stevie?” Dean carried on, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

“Like Stevie Nicks?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not seeing it. Samatha?”

“Already got one Sam in this bunker and that’s more than enough. Alice?”

“Can’t do it. All I’ll keep hearing is ‘who the fuck is Alice’, and I don’t want my kid to be subjected to that for the rest of their life.” 

You both laughed, interrupted only by the whine building in the little one’s chest. You quickly jumped to action and proceeded to the morning routine you’d been adjusting to since getting back home. Dean followed you, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ve had hangovers that made me feel quite as bad as waking up five times at night.” He yawned. 

You handed him a dirty diaper and smiled as he grimaced. 

“You can go back to bed if you want. I can manage by myself.” 

“Sweetheart, you just damn near broke your pelvis giving birth to my kid a few days ago. I’m in this from start to finish, and if that means running on caffeine and a prayer, then I’m game. Even for the diapers.” 

Dean rummaged through the first drawer of their dresser and pulled out a small onesie covered in colourful dinosaurs. He held it up in front of him and smiled. 

“It’s hard to believe how small she is, huh?”

“She didn’t feel so small coming out of me.” You quipped, taking the clothing from him to finally cover the squirming child on the changer, “I’m pretty sure my vagina will never be the same.” 

“That’s blasphemy.” Dean gasped playfully, “But seriously, baby, the doctor said that it’ll take a few weeks before you start to feel normal.” 

“Normal is subjective when you’re postpartum.” 

Holding his baby tight to his chest, Dean lent down and kissed you softly on the lips. His green eyes fluttered up to meet yours. 

“Let’s face it, ain’t nothing normal about either of us in the first place.” 

[hetaczechia]

Castiel: I’m back.

Dean: Cool, I accidentally set a tree on fire, Jack and Claire were playing badminton with rocks, and Sam got his hand stuck in an ants nest.

Castiel:

Castiel: I was gone for thirty minutes...