Summary: Dean and Castiel have been best friends for as long as either of them can remember, so itâs only natural that Cas stay with Dean after the fire in his apartment building. Half of Casâs things are already at Deanâs place, and he spends all his time there anyway. He may as well sleep there too.It will be just like the sleepovers they had when they were kids⊠except for when itâs not.
This is pure tropey fun, and I adore every word of it. Sometimes, you want exactly what it says on the tin, and with a list of tags like this, the tin is mighty appealing. Even better, itâs also well-written, with dashes of humour throughout and just enough backstory to deepen the connection between Dean and Cas. Even in such few words, their friendship is well-drawn, with enough details to show both its depth and its meaning to both of them. And then, of course, thereâs the realization that itâs more than friendship, with an absolutely adorable love confession on Deanâs part. Also, Cas has a pet ferret, which is a detail I never expected to be so important to me.
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âWell, ya look happy to see me, eh little brother?â
âAnd you donât know how to fucking dress properly.â
I agree with Noet! That blue doesnât go well with that shade of lilac Noxlee. Go change! (btw, they donât like each other because they have some...separate opinions on some things.)
How does Noets brother react to smol Kiri? Is he Swiggity swootin for that bootin, or is it just meh?
HmmâŠgood question! I meanâŠI guess at first he thought it was a joke until he saw her at the dinner. He didnât say anything mean to her, thank god! Maybe he just stared at her little bit too much. He doesât think gnomes and goblins should hangin around or be together so he first tries to tell Noet some âsenseâ that this is pretty weird and maybe disgusting. But Noet didnât care, he actually got pretty mad hearing that and it was pretty close he didnât set anything on fire.So in short way, he think Kiri is fine like in personality but because she is a gnome he is more like: âwhat a weirdoâŠugh. My little brother is a black sheep in family.â
Title: Iâll Watch Over You
Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Rating: G
Wordcount: 957
Tags: Huddling for warmth, BAMF Castiel (at least i tried), snow, winter solstice, protective Cas, tired Dean, bickering, established destiel
Summary: Cas and Dean are trekking through a wintry forest, Dean is tired but too stubborn to rest, so Castiel makes him.
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This is my ProfoundBond Fic Exchange gift for @nox-leeâ! 2.5k (Ao3)
Dean was just finishing up making his sandwich when Cas walked into the kitchen. They were between hunts at the moment and Sam was busy in the library homeschooling Jack. Dean thought it was good for the two of them: Jack got the education he never had and Sam got to live out his nerdy fantasy of instilling his knowledge in the next generation.
It was all so domestic, it gave Dean this warm sort of feeling. Like he was exactly where he needed to be.
Seeing Cas come into the kitchen, in bare feet and one of Deanâs old henleys, just enforced that.
âHey!â Dean quirked a small smile, gesturing to his sandwich. âYou want one?â
Cas smiled back â more with a softening of his eyes than any movement of his lips. âThat would be nice, Dean. Thank you.â
Dean nodded, passing the plate with the completed sandwich to Cas before starting on a new one for himself.
He was only half paying attention to assembly, instead watching Cas as he ate.
Cas was freer with his emotions nowadays. Easier to read. More reactionary. It was good for Dean, who had never been sure where he stood with Cas, but also because when Cas enjoyed something, he really let you know.
Cas hummed a please little hum. âThis is... very good, Dean.â
Dean grinned wider. âRight? I found this small Italian deli over in Cawker City. Itâs a bit of a hike but for cheeses like these? Definitely worth it.â
Cas nodded, his cheeks full. He took another bite before speaking again. It was terrible table manners but Dean was delighted. âWhat is wet on it?â
âSun dried tomatoes!â Dean reached for the jar on the counter and held them up. âSoaked in olive oil!â
âExcellent.â
Dean nodded, bringing the jar to his face to kiss it. Cas laughed.
Dean finished making his sandwich.
By the time Dean was done with it, Cas was still only halfway throughhis own. Dean frowned, sucking the olive oil off his fingers. âToo much?â
Cas shook his head. âNo, Dean, itâs very good.â But he didnât reach for another bite.
Dean raised his eyebrow. âDonât force yourself, man. Iâll finish it if you canât.â
Casâs shoulders slumped and he reluctantly passed the last of his sandwich off to Dean. âI wish I could finish it. I would have been able to if I were in angel. Remember that time I ate 467 burgers?â
Dean made a face. That time with Famine was fucked up â he didnât like to think about it.
He swallowed before answering. âYeah, but you couldnât really taste them. Isnât tasting my sandwich better?â
Cas sighed, watching regretfully as his sandwich disappeared into Deanâs mouth. âYes, I suppose youâre right.â
Dean hummed around his food, smacking himself on the stomach. âIt took a lot of practice to be able to eat this much, Cas.â He patted the food baby forming in his gut. âAnd it comes at a cost.â
Cas rolled his eyes. âI see no cost.â
Dean snorted but said nothing. He saw how Sam looked at him when he ate. He saw Jackâs curious looks when Deanâs shirts rode up now. He knew he was grosser than he used to be.
But if Cas wanted to pretend Dean was still the hot 30-year-old he first pulled from the pit, Dean wasnât about to correct him.
 Dean had taken to driving with towels in the back seat of the Impala. Clean towels, if he could manage it, but mostly he just needed something to put down on the seat.
At first it was to protect his baby from any potential gross things he might be covered in after a hunt. Now he was the gross thing.
âIt is, like, sixty degrees outside!â Dean said, drying his hands on the thighs of his jeans. âWhy the fuck am I sweating? â
Sam laughed from the passenger seat. He was often sweaty, too, but heâd always been that way. This was a new experience for Dean.
He saw Cas tilt his head in the rearview mirror, cool as a cucumber even with his heavy overcoat. âThe sun did heat the car some.â
âThen why arenât you sweating?â
Cas shrugged. âResidual angel perks?â
Dean snorted. Sam laughed again.
âDean, youâre being dramatic,â Sam said, pushing his hair off of his damp forehead. âItâs not even that hot.â
âMaybe not to you ,â Dean grumbled.
Jack made a polite throat-clearing noise from behind Dean. He must have picked it up from Sam because Dean was sure Cas didnât teach him that. Cas never did learn how to gently insert his presence.
âI can help you, Dean,â Jack said in that sweet, pleasant way of his. âIâve been practicing healing. Iâm sure lowering your internal body temperature works basically the same way.â
Dean shook his head but he could feel his mouth form a smile. âThanks, Jack. But Iâll deal. I think Iâm just gettinâ old.â
Sam barked another laugh. â This is your tip-off? Being sweaty?â
Dean threw up his hands, letting them fall back to the steering wheel with a slap. âI didnât think Iâd get this far, alright? I never thought about what getting old might look like.â
They all got quiet for a moment. Jack, awkwardly. Cas, sadly. Sam, sympathetically.
Dean broke the silence. âIt feels like I sat in soup!â
Everyone in the car laughed. Dean included.
 âI think if we hrm we split these books by rg by year weâll find the thing faster.â
Sam had an eyebrow raised but he grabbed one of the stacks of books. âYeah⊠okay⊠You want 16th or 18th century?â
âWhichever. Itâs not like it ruh matters.â
Sam breathed a laugh. âRight.â
Dean shook his head, swallowing yet another burp before diving into their case.
It was so dumb. Dean used to belch with wild abandon. Heâd eat food intentionally that he knew would give him the gnarliest burps. He practiced. He could do the alphabet. He would time them. His record was a solid 25 seconds.
Dean didnât need to try to burp now. It was going to happen. It did always happen, and always at the most inopportune moments. If he took a pause every time he needed to burp now he would never have time to do anything else.
So heâd started talking through burps. He knew that was the âpoliteâ way of doing it. Or at least he assumed. He didnât actually know any polite people. But Sam hadnât called him on it yet.
It looked like he wanted to, though, from the twitch of his mouth and the knowing tilt of his eyebrow. Dean wasnât sure if Sam would tell him it was grosser to talk through his burps or if he would congratulate him on his newfound maturity. So skewed was his scale that he had no idea which direction heâd tipped.
Either way: this was what he was doing. Reading 16th century accounts of black dogs in modern day New Mexico and praying Sam wouldnât want him to talk because he couldnât guarantee he could get through a sentence without burping.
He knew he shouldnât have made burritos for dinner. But it made Cas happy. So Dean would suffer.
Speaking ofâŠ
âI looked in the Enochian scripture,â Cas said, coming into the archives. âThe only information about black dogs is how to differentiate it from a hellhound. Which we already knew. I take this to mean we canât kill it in the same way we would kill a hellhound.â
âSuper.â Dean sighed, dropping his tome heavily on the table, pushing it toward Cas. âWell, pal, youâre better at Ancient Mesopotamian than me so you could probably ch- hck this one.â
Casâs eyebrows furrowed. âAre you alright, Dean?â
Sam snorted into his hand. Dean ignored him. âYeah, Cas, Iâm f- gnk -fine.â
Sam threw his head back and laughed at that. Dean threw a bible at him.
Cas still looked confused. âIs it not easier to take a pause when you need to burp?â
Sam was almost crying. âHeâs got acid reflux.â
âI do not! â Dean protested. Acid reflux was for old people. He wasnât quite that old yet.
âYou do!â Sam said, still chuckling. âAnd itâs fine, I get it too, but youâre like,â Sam gestured at him, shaking his head. âYouâre pretending youâre not fully burping through words.â
âWha- brr -tever.â
Sam almost collapsed out of his chair laughing and Dean was mad. The small smile on Casâs face at Samâs obvious joy lessened his anger, some.
He resolved to stop trying to power through burps now, though.
 The sweating was already a problem. Sweating, Dean could deal with. He didnât want to. It was uncomfortable and unpleasant and Dean wasnât sure if he should start removing layers or put on even more but the sweat he could deal with.
The getting really hot in the middle of the afternoon for no reason was something he really wanted to fight about.
âI feel like Iâm gonna pass out,â he complained to Cas, spread out on one of the recliners in the Dean cave.
It was a rare day off and Dean had been looking forward to spending some quality time with Cas in this leisure room heâd worked so hard on. When heâd been decorating the room, heâd really been doing it with Cas in mind. Showing Cas all the movies heâd missed. Playing games with Cas, drinking complicated drinks with Cas heâd never be able to actually order in public. So this was a rare treat for him.
But a rare day off meant a day when there was nothing to distract him from how uncomfortably and upsettingly hot he suddenly was.
âThatâs strange. Itâs rather cool in here.â Dean could hear Cas shift as he got closer. âAre you becoming ill?â Cas grabbed his face. âStick out your tongue.â
Dean swatted him away, averting his eyes away and to the tv. âGet off me, man. Your body temperature is only makinâ it worse.â
Cas sunk slowly back into his own recliner. Dean didnât have to look at him to know his brow was still furrowed.
Dean sighed. âLook. Itâs fine. My body is a piece of shit. I can justââ Dean reached behind his head and pulled at the back of shirt, taking the comfortable henley heâs been wearing off completely. Heâd been wearing a white ribbed tank top as an undershirt but, naturally, it was almost completely saturated with sweat.
âIs that better?â Cas asked, his skepticism evident.
Dean sighed. âNot really, no.â
Cas sat quietly. Cheers played on the tv softly in the background. It wasnât as big or as nice of a tv as the one theyâd gotten from the pawn shop, but the kind of things Dean was showing Cas werenât things you needed to see in high def anyway.
âYou can take off the tank top, Dean. I donât mind.â
Dean hunched further into his chair. âI donât really wanna show off my gut, Cas, thanks.â
Cas hunched further back into his chair though with what Dean could only assume was an aggressive eye roll. âAre you still on that?â
âOn what?â
âOn this absurd insecurity.â
Dean huffed in his most dramatically offended way. ââScuse me?â
Cas sat forward, turning in his chair so Dean could see him. âYouâve been obsessing over your body recently. Itâs annoying.â
Dean crossed his arms, trying not to grimace about how sticky they were and how much hotter this made him. âMy body is annoying.â
âMaybe. But your body is human and itâs not its fault.â
Dean snorted, humorlessly.
âSeriously, Dean. Itâs natural. Itâs good . Think how many times youâve died in the last decade. If youâd stayed dead, you wouldnât be experiencing these things. These things mean youâre alive . Which is the most important thing to me.â
Dean uncrossed his arms. Then recrossed them. Then leaned forward and put both hands on his knees.
âIâm happy to be alive, Cas. I am. And Iâm happy youâre alive. If you had this shit to deal with, I would probably be snappy about you complaining all the time, too.â Dean sighed. âBut Iâm just so tired . All the time. And it sucks to know that Iâm going to be this tired, fat, sweaty, disgusting lump probably for the rest of my life.â
Cas leaned forward. The recliners werenât close enough for them to touch comfortably but Cas seemed determined to lay some kind of hand on Deanâs shoulder. âI much prefer this tired, fat, sweaty, disgusting lump to the alternative. I actually much prefer it to most things.â
Dean laughed, blushing and averting his eyes. That was such a weird thing to say. Weird and earnest and blunt and almost insulting... and totally Cas.
âI believe you misunderstood why I think your complaining is annoying, though,â Cas continued, casually.
Dean looked back at him, grinning. âYeah? Whyâs that?â
âWell itâs annoying when you think so little of yourself because that makes it a lot harder for me to convince you that I love you.â
Deanâs breath caught. Heâd heard Cas say it before. Of course he had. But on the brink of death. In the thick of a fight. Before some big sacrifice. Never in this casual, almost irritated way. Never when he was melting into cheap polyester after expounding on his body issues. Never in, Cas was right, a way that he might believe it.
But here â in the fortress of Deanitude, with Cheers on in the background, a Sea Breeze in his right hand, and wearing a tank top completely see through in spots â Dean thought he might.
âProve it.â
Cas raised an eyebrow. âWhat?â
âProve you love me. Kiss me, right now. In all my disgusting glory.â
Cas rolled his eyes but he put his hand on Deanâs other shoulder and brought him in for a kiss without a secondâs hesitation.
He didnât even flinch when Deanâs clammy hand ran up his back.
If that wasnât love, Dean didnât know what was.
 Dean continued to get fatter. He continued to be damp and randomly hot and burp inappropriately. But Cas helped.
He didnât reassure Dean that he wasnât gross because Dean knew he was. Instead, he made Dean feel better about being gross.
He held his hand even if Dean was sweaty. He said bless you every time Dean burped. He fed Dean more and more and more.
And one night in bed, when Dean was sitting up shirtless, Cas just started petting his shoulders. Theyâd started sprouting hair which was a weird development as Dean had been mostly hairless all his life. But Cas had just pet his newly hairy shoulders and absently hummed the Ewokâs theme from Return of the Jedi . It wasnât a huge leap to think how Casâs subconscious had arrived there.
When Dean had looked over at him, incredulous, Cas just shrugged and said, âEveryone loves ewoks.â
âCas, no one liked the Ewoks.â
Cas just frowned. âI love the Ewoks.â
Dean rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss him. âThe Ewoks love you too.â
Fic link:Â AO3Â
Relationships: destiel with a side of saileen
Word count:Â 26,863
Rating: explicit
Warnings and key tags:Â AU, accidental wedding, drunk in Vegas, light angst with a happy ending. No MCD. Brief mentions of homophobia, depression, anxiety, suicide.Â
Summary:Â
His first thought:Â "Who are you?â
Itâs the morning after his brotherâs spur of the moment bachelor party in Vegas and Dean Winchester wakes up with the mother of all hangovers. Even worse, heâs in a strangerâs penthouse having woken up with something else as well - a weird, dorky, oddly charming, dashingly handsome⊠husband!
Up until now, marriage had always been off the tableâ Dean wasnât relationship material, his life was in shambles, and heâd sworn off love for good. Then a night of terrible surprises, a few (okay, a lot) of martinis with Castle⊠no, Castiel Novak, and heâs gone from first meet to marriage in one night.
Dean wants a lawyer. But Castielâs shocking bombshell?
"I donât want a divorce.â
This is my fave because: This was for the destiel harlequin challenge. It was my first time participating in a challenge and remains the longest thing Iâve written to date. Itâs not the best so Iâm reluctant to share it, but it is the thing Iâm most proud of because I learned a lot about what not to do and how to improve next time. It got me far outside my comfort zone and was my first introduction to a community of other spn writers, for which Iâm very grateful.