#cas drabble

[captainswhore]

i am a firm believer that the cod men like a spouse with a bush.... but i'm specifically thinkin about gaz.

he looks really clean- like, really, really clean. he's the type that, when he's home, showers twice a day and likes to feel clean and smell good. brings disposable wipes or baby wipes on missions to feel some semblance of that.

so, of course, when you walk in on him in the bathroom one day and see how squeaky clean he is, trimming his pubes before he hops in the shower, you get self conscious. he asks what's takin you so long in the shower after him because he just wants to cuddle once he's clean and home from a mission. he hears you yell "just a sec!" but puts his ear on the door and hears a "mother fu- how do pornstars do this? is it a regular waxing?" he's pushing the door open to see what the hell you're doing.

he finds you, basically doing the splits in the shower, trying SOOO hard to figure out where to even start to get your bush taken care of.

scoops his arm over the leg you have propped up on the tub, grabs a hold of you wherever you can reach when you start flailing, hears your razor clatter on the floor in your haste to grip onto him, and very (not) carefully, throws you on the bed. before you can even ask him what he's doing, he's got his head shoved in between your legs, takes one of your hands to rest on his head, and goes to TOWN. nothing can pull this man off of you.

"it's a personal preference luv," he says, when he leans back to take a breather from literally drowning in your cum, "that means personal.... i'm all for whatever you're comfortable with... don't change just cause you caught me shavin" and before you can even respond his fingers dig into that special spot inside you, and you cum so hard you basically see stars.

he tries to explain why he doesn't care about body hair on other people again, but he has to say it twice because you can't hear anything over your heartbeat in your ears and the panting you're doing after cummin that hard.

[supernaturalfreewill]

Happy Flashback Friday!

Character/Pairing: Cas Mood: sleepy Random word: warm Requested by: anonymous :) “Hey,” a soft voice barely cut into your unconsciousness, but a sudden warm hand on your shoulder, gentle and still, pushed away the blackness.

You inhaled a sudden breath, as one does emerging from cold water, and pulled your head off your arms, turning to see that it was Cas standing beside you. You rubbed a hand over your eyes. “Cas. Hi.”

He straightened up, but his blue eyes traveled over your face still and the crumpled wrinkles folded into your sweater from sleeping on your arms at the table all night. “What are you doing? It’s still early morning. Were you here all night?” he asked you, concern evident.

You started to stack away books and straighten the papers in front of you, covered with your scribbles and doodles. You were reaching for a heavy book to close it up, when Cas’s hand gently caught yours and stopped you dead. A jolt of electricity shot up your arm at his touch and your fingertips tingles like they were asleep.

“Would you leave it? You’re exhausted. Go get some rest. This all can wait.”

“I don’t want to leave it all a mess–” you started to protest, but Cas gently squeezed your hand before relinquishing it and giving you a knowing look. He was right. You were exhausted.

“You’ve done more than enough for now. As usual,” he said, giving you a warm smile. 

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed and you decided that perhaps he was right. Without his intervention you would run yourself ragged.

“I’ll clear this up. You just get some rest,” he said. “Goodnight.”

You returned a fond smile, your cheeks coloring a little. “Goodnight, Cas…”

[annmariethrush]

When Cas gets back and finds out that Dean adopted a dog while he was dead he insists they get a cat too. Dean puts up a little fight cause he’s allergic, but Cas touches him on the forehead and says “not anymore” and looks so pleased when Dean relents.

Dean is beyond thrilled though because for the first time he thinks this will make sure Cas always comes back and treat the bunker like his home too.

Cas is also secretly pleased that Dean was willing to let him get a pet to live at the bunker cause he can use it as an excuse to be around more often.

Sam watches this interaction with his hand on his gun because he doesn’t know if he should kill both of them or himself. (He still goes with them to pick a cat from the local shelter. He gets a laser pointer to make the cat run in between Dean and Cas while they’re having eye sex in the library)

[angel-fruitcake]

can't stop thinking about the concept of post-canon Destiel reunion where Dean confesses his mutual romantic feelings and Cas is so happy, don't get him wrong! but even though he's grown fond of this vessel that he's had for years, for some reason Cas can't seem to get past his worry and insecurity that maybe Dean isn't 100% sold on the whole idea of being intimate with a man.

so without meeting Dean's gaze, Cas hesitantly offers with a touch of sadness, "if this vessel isn't satisfactory for you, i-i could perhaps try to procure a female v-"

and Dean grabs Cas by his heated cheeks, promptly shutting him up with a kiss.

once the initial shock subsides and Cas finally starts to relax, Dean pulls back just enough to whisper against the angel's lips, "i want you just like this. this," Dean squeezes Cas' face for emphasis, "is the Cas that i met in that barn all those years ago. this is the Cas that pulled me outta hell." Dean trails wet kisses along Cas' stubbled jawline, pausing when his lips reach the angel's ear. "this is the Cas i fell in love with."

Castiel melts against Dean with a whimper.

[strawlessandbraless]

Angels: Brother, you have been chosen for this mission to save the righteous man from hell. But Castiel, hear me well. Do not covet the Michael Sword, big plans for that sword

*2 minutes later*

Castiel: I will lay claim to this living soul, rebuild him, mark him as my own, and carve my name into his ribs, gonna stare at him a lot, so much, gonna kiss him

[babygirlwolverine]

cas is the one to lean in for a kiss; soft and tender and sweet against dean’s lips. but when he goes to pull away, something yanks at dean’s heartstrings. he grabs at cas, holding him steady so they’re breathing each others air. he’s not ready for the kiss to end. “one more,” dean murmurs against cas’ mouth, stealing another kiss. “one more,” he repeats a few seconds later, making cas smile against his lips. “one more, one more, one more.” and cas pulls dean closer, keeping his mouth against dean’s as he murmurs back, “you can have as many kisses as you want, dean. forever.” this time, cas kisses him deep and slow, as if there was no rush and nothing else in the world except them with their lips pressed together. “one more,” dean whispers, and cas kisses him again.

[museaway]

prompt: a well-meaning lie

Dean/Cas, 100 words

--

would you still love me if—

Castiel turned his eyes from the made-for-TV romcom and focused his squint on Dean.

“What does she mean?”

“Oh, that’s a test. Does he love her enough to stay with her no matter what?”

“So she isn’t a shapeshifter.”

“No, she was speaking figuratively.”

“Ah.” Castiel went back to watching the movie. After a minute, his head canted slightly toward his shoulder. “I have another form.”

“I remember. Wings, cosmic powers, real loud voice.”

Those blue eyes met his again and narrowed in unspoken question. Inwardly, Dean sighed.

“Yes, Cas. Even if you were a worm.”

[casdeans-pie]

I know it's been said a million times but

I really wish Cas had been human a while longer and been able to stay at the Bunker.

Dean teaching him how to be human would have been so SO good

And listen, I love Dean teaching Cas the romantic human stuff as much as anyone. but I think even better would be all the weird human stuff.

Because, c’mon those two are already so goddamn weird together anyway.

Like, explaining to Cas about 'all that crusty eye gunk' he'll get after a bad night's sleep. Or like, about blowing his nose (Cas's nose does that whistling thing one day and it nearly drives Dean crazy). Showing him how to clip his nails without catching his skin. How to cure the hiccups.

Cause like. Cas knows humans are weird. But he's never had to experience that weirdness firsthand before.

Also it doesn't occur to either of them that Sam could be teaching Cas any of these lessons.

If anyone is going to teach Cas about the weirdness of the human body of course it's gonna be Dean.

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education ( platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

summary : when castiel curious nature after watching adult movies leads to a strange string of questions and learning of their sex lives . 

warnings well there is really none just awkward sex talk . this is more a drabble   

What was supposed to be a normal ass day of research ended up more strange then any hunt well it definitely up there . She wanted to prove dean wrong but walked in on castiel doing his own research . eyes locked on the screen , while head tilted in confusion and a woman's moans filled the room making the two freeze to their spot. 

" is he watching..." her voice trailed off .

" porn yeah , we've got an angel watching porn " dean shook his  head .

" erm cas buddy that stuff is not for the communional area's more privacy of your own room " she winced as the sound of skin slapping got louder.

" if the pizza man truly loves the babysitter why does he keep  slapping her rear ?"  he turned to the red faced  hunters standing before him .  " perhap she has done something wrong" he added. 

" cas turn it off please" she asked quicker and louder ,making cas stand and her to gasp . " oh my ,dean does he have " she turned to the man .

" A boner yep " he snorted .

" Cas why are you watching this " she asked sitting across from him noticing his eyes trail to her chest.

" You can't watch porn in a room filled with dude's and Y/N " the older winchester chuckled wondering would sam believe him .

" I was bored and bobby told me to borrow a video out of his room" he looked even more confused what was wrong .

" Well good to know i can never look bobby in the eyes again " she felt her cheeks heating up giving the situation.

" Is sex like this in real life " he asked making her wishing she went on the supply run .

" no never , i mean the girls finish for one  and those moanS so fake " she snorted making dean shoot her alook .

" A Man never made you finish " he asked curiously.

" Cas you can't ask a chick that ... but yeah what "he said  turning to Y/N for some help .

" No they have not anyway's  cas sex is nothing like these movies their just fantasized version  that people mainly watch to well get off " she explained awkwardly again wanting to leave the room as soon as she could. 

" Alone so don't whip it out " dean added seeing the angel looking down at his crotch .

" Do you watch it " cas asked looking straight at her.

"  i mean yeah i do sometimes " she smiled weakly seeing deans face light up .

" That's hot sweet girl " he winked .

" that made it move " Cas looked down at his crotch .

" Oh kill me now " she cried as dean doubled over laughing .

" Do you like your rear slapped " Cas asked still filled with questions.

" ok ok why is this aimed at me " she stood.

" I mean trench coat baby has valid questions so sweetheart does spanking get you going " dean teased finding the whole thing amazing . 

" wouldn't you like to know " she winked before leaving the room before the angel curiosity killed her . 

" Hey i wanted to know " dean yelled just as sam walked in almost dropping the bag of groceries  when he had seen what was on the screen .

" Why are you and cas watching porn " he arched his brows .

" Cause he found it in bobbies room  and was curious and just to clarify he was watching it not me " dean snorted.

" Does Y/N like her rear smacked she wasn't clear on her answer " castiel asked standing and to full attention still .

" Ithink i'm going to go back to the store , maybe never come back " sam walked back out the door.

"damn it cas go fix that or have a cold shower" dean huffed leaving the angel standing confused to what was going on  and why everyone was so uncomfortable .

...........

To say dinner time in the bunker was filled with tension was an understatement . all eyes on their plates to bobby's confusion , hell Y/N hasn't looked at him once .

" Ok what the hell happened here  did you walk in on those too having sex or something " he gestured to dean and Y/N .

" No Y/N has never finished in sex " cas said easily .

" someone seriously just shoot me " she groaned.

" i'd let you finish princess " dean winked.

" Erm cas may have gotten his hands on a special movie from your room and it lead to some interesting question mainly aimed at our female hunter " sam explain.

" Pizza boy and babysitter really man " dean asked as bobby's eyes found his plate really interesting all of a sudden.

" I'm going to eat in my room and never talk to you guys again except sam " she ran out the room with her plate.

" Hey want me to join you for dessert" dean called .

"  Fuck off " she yelled back .

" Thank god we don't have a HR department " sam muttered. 

" She never gonna talk to any of us again " bobby face was beet red knowing his niece now knew what he had in his room .

" Who even has porn  dvds anymore " .

" I fixed my boner earlier alone like you said " cas said as the other  dropped their forks . 

" I'm joining Y/N , you guys deal with this " sam ran down the hall . 

" is he going to smack her rear ?  ".

" Ok no more porn questions ever watch it in your room in private and never tell us again and stop asking y/n sex questions before she  leaves us altogether" dean deadpanned.

" We're definitely going to hell for getting an angel hooked on porn " bobby mumbled. 

part two

[salsakiyoomi]

sakusa kiyoomi is a man of his routine.

wake up early, get out of bed, take a quick shower, have breakfast, go out on his morning jog, come back home, rest for a while and then go out to practice.

that's how his everyday went — boring, right? to set such a standard and actually commit to it thoroughly every day.

but that's how kiyoomi is, how he always was — a man of his routine.

that is, until you came along.

his alarm rang about fifteen minutes ago but he's still in bed, his arms wrapped around you, and your legs are wrapped around his torso, a tangle of limbs as your face is buried into the crook of his neck, whispering, "just five more minutes."

he doesn't know how he ended up like this, still in bed even after his alarm rang when he should be up and in the shower right now, but somehow, for some reason, he could never find himself being able to say no to you.

"you said that five minutes ago." he whispers back, his fingers running gently through your hair — this is how his mornings have been ever since you moved in with him, lazy and comforting with the both of you so close to eachother, and he would never admit it out loud, but he actually likes this — likes the warmth of your body against his as you mutter sleepy sweet nothings to him.

"i know." you mumble, placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, "this just feels so nice." you hum sleepily, continuing to place soft, butterfly kisses on his neck, your lips barely even touching his skin as you do so, "can't you just stay home today?"

he can't help but shiver at the touch of your lips, how soft it is and he grunts quietly, "you know i can't, baby." he answers back — you always ask him this question, every morning, the answer remains the same and you don't press it, he can't help but think that you maybe ask him this just to tease him a bit.

you hum in response, and he can almost imagine your pout, but nonetheless, you continue to place butterfly kisses on his neck, trailing slowly up to his jaw, "kiyo, you're off tomorrow right?" you whisper against his skin, your hands slowly and gently trailing up his bare chest, to his shoulders and you wrap your arms around him.

he hums in response, "yeah." his fingers are treading through your hair gently, and his hand is tracing circles on your back.

you smile sleepily, he can see the way your eyes are half lidded, and he guesses you're not exactly fully awake yet, "good." you murmur "we can have this all tomorrow morning then without a deadline chasing your ass." he can't help but let out a short laugh when you say that, but he's quickly cut off when you press your lips against his mouth.

it's a bit of a sloppy kiss, with your lips parted so his tongue slips in, it's sleepy and slow, lazy as you move sluggishly against him, and you taste so sweet, like that chocolate cake you had last night before you slept, and like that strawberry lip balm you wear all the time, and he can't help but get lost in your taste.

you pull away, a small smile on your face and you plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

he can't help but smile a bit too, humming to himself, "i have to go now." he tells you quietly, attempting to get your arms off of him.

you shake your head and press yourself closer to him, "just five more minutes." you murmur, burying your face in the crook of his neck again.

sakusa kiyoomi is a man of his routine, he sets a standard and commits to it, and more often than not, he doesn't like it when his routine is disturbed.

but there is always an exception to the rule, and for you, he'll let you break his routine, and mumble about 'five more minutes' even though he knows they won't be the last ones as you press more butterfly kisses to his neck.

he'll let you have your own routine disturb his.

[nyc-pizza-rat]

okay thinking about her

the tree bark at his back scratches him as he shifts. there are bruises on his skin that sting. he feels the slide of blood at his temple, unsettling and unfamiliar, even after all these years. castiel looks down at his hands, a little calloused, now, and wrinkling, and tries to center himself. there is dirt on his palms, under his fingernails. a small cut on his index finger that is loud and sharp. he curls his fists and tries to reach within himself. the well of his grace has been running low for a while, now, and castiel hasn't been sure of...well, anything.

it's harder to find his dimming grace within, here in purgatory. harder still to coax it to the surface. sweat beads at his brow but castiel keeps his fingers clenched, mumbles to himself in enochian — words to songs of praise and comfort and strength that mean so little now, and yet come to him easy.

there is a thin stream of silver light, and castiel heaves a breath, sinks further into the hollow of the tree. he unclenches his fist, and there are red half-moons carved into his palm. the cut is gone, but there is a scar, still, and castiel cannot stop looking at it. it looks like a thin tear in fabric, like the cracks in between the worlds that let them through. it looks like the beginning of the end.

he rubs his thumb over the scar, feels the slight raise of his skin. his thoughts begin to spin, and all he can focus on is the heat building at the back of his neck, the rushing of blood in his ears. suddenly, then, a ripple within. a breeze by his ear that pull at his core. that compels him to quiet, to listen.

someone, somewhere, is invoking him in prayer.

his grace surges now, easy as it hasn't been in a while, and while it doesn't heal him still, castiel feels more angel than he has in a long time.

Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late.

castiel sighs, something inside him relaxing. he hadn't even noticed the way his muscles had been pulled taut. hadn't noticed the tendrils of fear creeping into his heart. dean's alive. dean's alive.

I should've stopped you.

castiel swallows. digs his fingers into his thighs. his grace spins out, trying to find the source of the prayer. It's harder than it is on earth, and harder than it should be for an angel of his caliber, but castiel keeps trying.

You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

castiel wishes dean would stop saying these things. he bites his cheek, listening, following dean's voice. he's always following dean's voice, even when he doesn't want to.

I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how –

dean breaks, and castiel pauses, stares at the blinking doorway that will lead them back onto earth. back into a battle that they are bound to lose. he thinks about jack, lost forever. about chuck, who cannot be beaten. about the pointlessness of what they are doing, the desperation with which he has been clinging to hope.

— how bad I want to, I just can't stop it.

he wishes he could see dean. there is something solid pressing against the back of his throat, like he has swallowed a rock, like it is blocking the air. his eyes sting. he wishes dean would just — just talk to him.

And — And I — I forgive you. Of course I forgive you.

castiel shakes his head. his wings are more bone than anything else, skeletons he lugs around because he cannot bear to sever them from his trueform. now they twitch, twined with his grace as they are. castiel lets them curl inwards, pretends he can feel them whole, their warmth, the comfort of it.

I'm sorry it took me so long – I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm – I'm so sorry.

castiel forgives him, despite everything. thinks he'd forgiven him long before this, before dean ever thought to ask. he wonders if dean knows that castiel doesn't know how to loathe him, even if he wanted to.

longing surges out to him, the pull of the prayer strengthened by cords of need, of want.

dean thinks he's dead, and he's desperate for him to not be. castiel knows what dean can be like, when he loses those he considers kin, when he's even faced with the prospect of losing them.

Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me.

longing can feel a lot like love.

angels were never meant to decipher the nuances of human emotion, and despite all the time he's spent on earth, even castiel is not all that good at it. so when prayer is made with longing, it can feel a lot like love.

and maybe it is. castiel doesn't know.

it's almost unsettling, the way warmth bleeds into his trueform, as dean finishes praying, as he makes his way closer. castiel tries to reign in his weak grace, pulsing away under his skin. tries to not let himself get carried away.

he looks up at the grey sky, the sunless world he is trapped in. he thinks about the empty. he thinks about his son.

maybe it isn't. human love is so complicated, after all.

somewhere to his right, footsteps. castiel breathes, wills his lungs to loosen, his heart to slow. he pulls the leviathan blossom out of his coat pocket. all that fighting and the fidgeting has smushed it a little. he rubs a thumb over one of its strange petals, and puts it back in his coat.

dean is getting closer. castiel can hear him breathing now. can hear the way his heart races.

he gathers himself and pushes out of the hollow of the tree. straightens a little.

"dean," he calls. he sounds tired, even to his own ears. human. god. "you made it."

[supernaturalfreewill]

Cas was struggling to find the words to explain, to calm you down. You were recoiling from him, looking absolutely terrified, glancing between him and the three bodies smoking on the floor. You had backed up until your back hit the wall and now you were pressing yourself into it, as far away from him as you could get. Cas put his hands up, palms out, in a show of good will and spoke calmly. "I know this is a lot to take in right now—" he began.

"They're—they're dead—They—you killed them!" you stammered, not even able to truly comprehend what you were seeing.

"I did, but I killed them for you," Cas said without thinking, taking a cautious step toward you.

"Wh—Is that supposed to help?!" you yelled, your voice coming out unnaturally high.

"Uhh—oh... uhh..." Cas puzzled over what to say next. "They were demons," he said bluntly.

Now, you stared at him with your jaw dropped open.

"I—I am not good at this. Sam! Dean!" he suddenly yelled over his shoulder. His blue eyes returned to your face and he looked apologetic. "Everything it going to be okay. I promise. SAM!" Prompt: "I did, but I killed them for you." A/N: I can picture this in my head in multiple ways, comical and hilarious or completely intense and they're both so good <3 Poor Cas

[softhairedhotch]

a lil drabble i wrote that doesn't fit any of the comfortember prompts <3

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader

wc: 300ish words

content/warnings: first kiss, mentions of being drunk/alcohol, cute fluffy stuff :)

Aaron laughs and his whole face lights up.

"You seem... happier lately," you say, admiring him. He looks stunning in the low light of the kitchen, his eyes bright and face relaxed in a way you're not used to seeing. It makes your heart stutter in your chest. "It's good. Happiness looks... it looks good on you," you sigh wistfully, unable to stop yourself from speaking due to the alcohol in your system. "So good."

A light blush makes its way to his cheeks and he smiles wider. "Well, uh, thank you. It looks good on you, too."

You grin at him and he grins back, the two of you getting lost in each others eyes. Aaron inches forward ever so slightly and you follow suit until your noses bump together. He laughs, a sweet and innocent and wonderful sound, and it has you swaying, an intense joy coursing through your veins.

"Your laugh is beautiful," you whisper, before taking the risk and pressing your lips against his. He kisses back immediately, titling his head to press himself closer to you. "God, you're so beautiful."

He hums against your lips. "You're beautifuller."

"That's not a word," you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth and dotting a few kisses over his cheek. "How much did you drink?"

"Too much," he chuckles, placing his drink on the kitchen counter so his warm hands are free to hold your face gently and he can kiss you deeper. His lips move over yours in a way that has you feeling lightheaded and you have to hold onto his jacket to stabilise yourself. "How much did you drink?"

"Hopefully not enough to forget that this happened."

He presses a kiss against the tip of your nose with a laugh. "Trust me, I won't let you forget. I'm gonna be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Me too."

[hells-plaid-angel]

Dean had the lung capacity of a deep-sea diver. After years of holding his breath as he drove through tunnels, he'd honed the skill, only gasping for breath when the Impala's windshield broke through the darkness and into the light. The habit had formed as a child but lingered into adulthood as most childhood fantasies did.

As a boy, his father raised him on superstition. If you made a wish when the world was swallowed by blackness and you could hold your breath until the end of a tunnel, that wish would come true. Over the years he'd wished for a hundred stupid things. He'd wished his mother was still alive, that he lived a normal life or that a pretty girl would look his way. He'd wished his father had been the one who'd died in the fire. He wished he didn't feel that way.

Once Dean had blacked out in the backseat of the Impala when driving the I-90 through Boston. He'd come to with Sammy squealing like a stuck pig and John Winchester cursing like a sailor. For the next year, being in Massachusetts made him feel light-headed.

Kids and old men are similar in their love of rituals. Dean was no longer a child, but he wasn't ready to call himself an old man. The ritual had changed over the years, but at its heart, it was always the same.

Dean found his new ritual each night he woke from a nightmare. That night, he found himself in the bunker. The image of his hands covered in blood lingered in the darkness of the room. He held his breath wishing for the dream not to be true. He only breathed when he switched on the lights and found his hands clean. In his dreams, Cas was always dying.

The nightmares weren't helped by the fact that the angel had died, numerous times. His sleep-addled mind took time to sort fact from fiction. Had Cas come back this time?

Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that death didn't always stick. Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that the universe liked to make him suffer. Both statements were equally true.

In the nightmare, Cas had died in his arms. He'd awoken, held his breath, switched on the lights and choked out a breath, which sounded suspiciously like a sob. When the drowning feeling reseeded he found himself exiting his bedroom, searching for the object of his nightmares as a drowning man searches for land.

Dean would never admit to himself he was looking for Cas, but the knowledge was there. There were many things Dean knew but wasn't ready to admit.

Dean found the angel in the library of the bunker, absentmindedly flicking through ancient texts and Sam's collection of trashy fitness and lifestyle magazines indiscriminately. A heavy weight on his chest dissipated. Cas looked up at Dean's sharp inhale. He could breathe again.

"Hello, Dean," the angel greeted, as though he were late to some prearranged meeting.

"Morning, Cas," Dean spoke, for lack of a better topic of conversation. He collapsed into the seat beside Cas.

"It's currently 3:15 a.m. and the sun isn't scheduled to rise until 5:25."

"Thanks for the weather report, buddy," Dean griped. His tone lacked the usual exasperated edge he used when Cas said something that struck him as particularly alien, which was often.

"How are you, Dean? You seem... unmoored."

People in the twenty-first century didn't use words like 'unmoored'. Dean knew exactly what Cas wasn't saying. Dean seemed upset. If there was one thing Dean didn't cope well with, it was being anything less than 'fine'. They were experts in each other's pathology, which would always feel strange. Dean wasn't used to being known.

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean had been working on the concept of denial. However, avoidance was fair game.

"If I'm going to be staying here long term, I want to buy better magazines," Cas stated, tossing the magazine haphazardly. He'd been staying for longer than usual. Dean kept feeling like he was holding his breath, waiting for the angel to disappear.

"We can drive into town come morning. Need to clear my head anyway."

"You haven't been sleeping well," Cas observed, his eyes shifting their attention to Dean. The blue-grey eyes said more than his words. His eyes were an ocean to an inexperienced swimmer. Not everyone could read them. Dean could. There was something more to them. A strong rip beneath steady water. There was a storm raging beneath the surface.

"It's creepy that you've noticed that," Dean remarked.

"You haven't been very quiet."

Dean wondered how much Cas heard. Did he talk in his sleep? Did he call out Cas' name in the night? Had the angel heard the moments of weakness where Dean had let himself muffle sobs behind his hand?

"This isn't changing the subject."

"I've been changing the subject all week. Evidently, it's not working," Cas' voice was resolute.

He and Dean shared their stubbornness, which always led to unproductive stalemates. They were two bucks with their antlers interlocked, starving and trapped in their own idiocy.

"The thing about being human, Cas, is that things don't magically just get fixed because you want them to." Dean rebuked.

"I'm aware, but have you actually tried to fix it?"

They were fighting. Why were they fighting?

"Talking never really solved much in my line of work. You know that."

"Is this about work?" Cas questioned.

They hadn't had any difficult hunts in weeks. Cas knew it wasn't about the job. He wanted Dean to know he knew.

"It doesn't matter what it's about. That's not the point. You don't get it." Dean felt the truth pushing its way up to the surface.

"Then help me understand."

"The problem —." Dean began before he felt anger or frustration choke the words from him.

"The problem is you keep dying."

He'd expected Cas to baulk at the confession. Dean wasn't one for sharing fears or feelings. What he hadn't expected was the look of horror that settled on the angel's face.

Dean scowled and scrubbed at his cheek, quietly cursing himself when his palm pulled back wet. Over the years, he'd gotten good at crying quietly. He hated that he was able to hide it from himself. Men didn't cry. Dean didn't cry. It was a lie, not so much a superstition, but a fable. A story he told himself.

"Dean I — I didn't realise my death... affected you so much. I apologise for the oversight," Cas spoke slowly, as though deliberately choosing each word with care.

How the hell could Cas not know his death, every goddamn one, hurt Dean? Cas was family.

"Yeah, well, I pegged you for a lot of things, Cas. Stupid wasn't one of 'em. So just... Be careful. I'm going to bed," Dean mumbled, praying for a quick exit.

Cas grabbed Dean's arm as he passed, stilling him. Dean felt the restriction return to his throat. He held his breath. He wished Cas knew what he meant without having to say it out loud.

Neither man spoke. The silence stretched long and loud between them. Cas clung to Dean's arm like a dying man to a life raft. For his part, Dean was just trying to stay afloat. Slowly, almost imperceptibly so, Cas' palm slid down to hold Dean's hand. Dean let him, which was as good as a confession.

There would be no confessions. A confession implied guilt, something that Dean had in droves, but not about Cas. It wasn't a lie so much as it was a fable. If a story was told long enough it became history.

He and Cas were still in the dark, biding time between apocalypses. He wished that when they finally found themselves in brighter times, there would be no need for confessions.

[thebest-medicine]

#5 “No, I’m just- uh- sensitive.” with Dean and Cas?

Prompt 5 - "No, I'm just- uh- sensitive."

A/N: oh man it's a throwback... let's go!!!! to quote @nhasablogg: what in the 2014 is happening here

…

Dean twitched again as Castiel’s hand passed the middle of his back, just between the shoulder blades. Castiel watched him with a twinkle of concern.

He had come in and sat down on the couch at Dean’s invitation earlier, only for Dean to then lounge across the couch and his lap, laying face down on a pillow and popping some reruns on the TV. Cas had taken it upon himself to shower the hunter with a little affection and check to make sure he was uninjured after their last outing. This led to Cas rubbing his back and neck here and there, and some affectionate tracing along his skin (perhaps also a ploy to check for sore muscles or knots) to see if he could help Dean feel a bit better.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothin’.” Dean hummed against the pillow on the arm of the couch. “S’fine.”

Cas continued tracing along the muscles of Dean’s shoulders, pushing in when he sensed a knot and massaging here and there. He ran a few fingers along his spine up to his neck and Dean flinched again.

“Dean.” Cas stressed, stopping his ministrations.

“It’s fine, Cas. I’m… it’s just- uh- sensitive there.”

Castiel leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the human’s expression to better read him. He seemed content, happy even, he wasn’t getting up or moving away. He wasn’t hiding anything… any injury, right? Cas noticed a rosy coloring on the tip of his ear. He smiled gently.

“Sensitive.?” He inquired softly, starting to curl his fingers again along the back of Dean’s neck and over his shoulder, along his back. The thin t-shirt was soft under his fingertips, and it must have been on Dean’s skin as well. Dean squirmed again, digging himself deeper into the couch and Cas’s lap. Cas caught a strangled bit of a laugh almost made its way through the pillow. He smiled a little as he caught on.

“Sensitive… like you are here?” Cas continued, and suddenly his other hand was scratching at Dean’s ribcage.

Dean squawked at the new, more directly ticklish contact. He curled onto his side. “Hehheehe- wait! Nohohohohohooo!” He laughed, his blushing face now free. Cas caught sight of his delightful smile and felt warm.

“Can I get you to laugh like this if I try tickling back here?” Cas said curiously.

Dean protested through his laughs as he squirmed about, still tired, but didn’t do much to actually stop the ticklish attack. Cas drew both hands back and started to make the same spidering motions along the backs of Dean’s ribs and tracing up and down his spine. He scribbled at Dean’s neck, then at the small of his back. Dean laughed all the same, twitching and twisting until he finally squirmed his way onto his back, facing the angel. He caught Castiel’s hands in his and Cas stopped for a moment, taking in his wild eyes and fierce blush in contrast with his freckles.

“Heh- yeesh. You trying to kill me?” Dean laughed, closing his eyes under the scrutiny.

“You have a very sweet laugh.” Castiel said, smiling as Dean squirmed at the compliment too. “And a very ticklish back.” Another squirm.

“Shut up. You’re probably worse.” Dean scoffed.

“Well, maybe you’ll find out one day.”

Dean looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow with a little smirk. “Wanna find out?”

“Not now.” Cas smirked after he spoke, and Dean gave him a bewildered look before fingers fluttered along his stomach and began pinching his sides, and Dean lost his protests to laughter once again.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further SPN drabbles on ao3]

[strawlessandbraless]

Cas kissed every one of Dean’s freckles back into existence when he rebuilt his body after hell