#cas drabbles
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"I'm sorry. I—I wanted to tell you sooner. Sam and Dean didn't think it was a good idea." Cas took an exploratory step toward you, his expression apologetic and concerned. You seemed frozen. "You're—you're freaking out right now, aren't you?" he asked, his brow furrowing even lower over his bright blue eyes, the same eyes you'd just seen glow cobalt.
You gulped, your eyes still wide. "Only on the inside," you muttered. "You're—you have—your wings—" you stammered.
Now, Cas was the one surprised. "You could see them?" he asked.
You nodded urgently. "I can't believe this is happening. You're an angel. You're an actual angel. What the hell?"
"Y/N, you could see my wings?" he asked again.
You nodded. "Yes. Isn't that—normal? You just told me you're an angel. And then you just did something... with the glowing and the— Shouldn't I be able to see them?"
Cas shook his head. "No one has ever been able to see them before."
"What do you mean?"
"A human being able to see an angel's wings is—" he searched for the right word, "—significant," he said.
You nodded and tried to pull in a deep breath but you were feeling suddenly lightheaded. "I think I need to sit down."
Cas was there in an instant, immensely concerned, and helped you settle into the couch.
Prompt: "you're freaking out right now, aren't you?" / "only on the inside."
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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
#people try and tell me cas isn’t the jealous type#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#destiel#castiel#deancas#gay#misha collins#jensen ackles#spn crack#Michael sword#handprint#spn text post#spn drabble#spn headcanon#spn humor#casposting#cas posting
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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.
#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#spn#supernatural#deancas#dcsnapshots#hiiii here’s a drabble because I’ve been thinking about this thought for weeks#once dean realizes he can kiss cas… he’s never going to stop stealing kisses
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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.
#falling in love by cas#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagine#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa scenarios#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#sakusa drabble#sakusa headcanons#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader
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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.
#humans are messy and weird and Dean would be the BEST teacher for Cas once he got over the initial embarrassment#destiel#destiel headcanon#human!cas#destiel drabble
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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."
#i love him so much#cas writes#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner fanfiction#thomas gibson
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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.
#destiel#ficlet#spn#dean winchester#deancas#supernatural#castiel#cas#drabble#long post#destiel drabbles#fic#guess who's back#getting together#my supernatural hyperfixation has returned with a vengeance#extended metaphors aplenty#this was vaguely based on me rewatching#episode 4x16 On the Head of a Pin#and thinking if later season Dean cried in front of Cas#like early season Dean did it would both break and fix them#in my head I'd put it sometime post season 12#but I'm not picky
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Hello! How about kitty Aizawa humping your pillow >_<
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw | 𝐰/𝐜: 1.08k | 𝐜𝐰: pillow humping, hybrids, prev established relationship.
closing the door behind yourself, you toss your keys into the table in the foyer and stretch with a groan. god, you hated in-building workdays — and you’d had them every day this week and more than half of last week too. you could only grumpily be grateful that you’d been able to get off earlier today.
“shouta, i’m home!” you call quietly, receiving no response.
unbothered, you toe off your shoes and gently nudge them into a half-neat position along the wall before you step further into your home and shed your suit jacket as well, tossing it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table as you scrunch your toes up at the feeling of the cold tile beneath your feet. glancing at the counter, you sigh in relief upon realizing that shouta had forgotten to set out the frozen chicken like you’d asked before you’d left; normally you’d be a little upset, but you really didn’t feel like cooking tonight, so this was a blessing in disguise that meant you could just order in and throw your feet up.
pulling out your phone, you type in a quick order to shouta’s favorite fast food place and then throw it onto the couch with a sigh, turning on the tv after and lazily flicking through the channels before stopping on the nature channel with a sigh.
maybe netflix would have something more interesting?
a sharp cry from your bedroom has you muting the tv and freezing to listen, your heart racing nervously; was shouta hurt? was that why he’d not answered you? god, what if someone had broken in and hurt him?! there weren’t any signs of a break in, and shouta was very much able to defend himself, but god you’d been gone so long-!
a cry of your name has you rushing to the bedroom, reaching it in record time. you open the door with wide eyes and a worried heart, but your question to shouta dies on your lips as you see what your cat hybrid is actually up to.
“m-more, more, more~!” he gasps, what looks like tears sparkling in the corners of his good eye as he thrusts sharply against the soft cotton pillowcase with his mouth agape and a line of drool threatening to run down his chin; the fangs in his mouth glinted sharply in the soft light coming through the cloth of the curtains as the fluffy pillow you used every night was clenched tightly between his muscular thighs. “fuck — fu-uck, please!”
your jaw drops a little in surprise as you stand in the doorway and watch, unable to do anything else as a coil of heat begins building in your lower belly at the sight of shouta this way, his bare cock dragging across the cloth aggressively and leaving dark wet spots behind as he whines and moans from the feeling that, according to what he was groaning, wasn’t enough. “please, please — yes, more!” he moans lowly, the last word long and drawn out as his thrusts get more and more messy and his tail whipping and writhing behind him. shifting slightly on your feet and clenching your own thighs together, you keep watching without hesitation as your heart begins to beat faster for an entirely different reason. .
so this is why the sheets have been washed every afternoon before i get home, you think, watching the way the tip of his thick length runs along the seam of your pillow, clearly feeling good enough for him to throw his head back over before hastily folding the pillow without looking and shoving his cock into the place he’d made for himself in it and resuming the manic thrusts that only get messier and messier. a longer, low cry coupled with a swift stuttering of his hips is warning enough that he’s about to cum, and you watch with lust-darkened eyes as he keens loudly and curls around the pillow, humping it aggressively while letting out shaky moans and cries. “yes, yes, yes — fuck, please, so good-!” he whimpers, his body shaking, and as he slowly relaxes into the bed with his tail swishing pleasantly from side to side you finally decide to let your presence be known.
“what a show,” you say softly, and he jumps to look at where you were standing, his one dark eye wide and shocked. obviously he’d not heard you come in, too wrapped up in his previous activity, and considering you lived here he couldn’t exactly go by your scent entering the house — especially not in your own bedroom.
“i — how — when did-?!” he stutters, his cheeks pinkening as he stares at you from the bed, and you laugh softly as you slowly approach.
“a lot of it, shou’,” you murmur, voice fond and hot, and his ears flick back in embarrassment as he turns away from you. you just laugh again and sit next to him on the bed before cupping his head in your hands and drawing him close so his head rests on your chest; his skin is warm and his hair is messy, and you find yourself combing out the knots with your fingers as you tease him. “have i left you alone too long, baby? were you so bored and needy here without me?” you ask, playfully mocking him, and he groans and turns to bury his face in your chest. “aww, you just wanted my attention on you and not work, huh-?”
“stop making fun of me,” he mumbles into you, “you’re so fuckin’ mean t’me,” and you laugh softly and cradle him close.
“shhh, it’s all in good fun, baby,” you promise lowly before flipping the two of you so you’re straddling his bare body, his eyes wide beneath you as he looks up at where you were grinning playfully. your eyes twinkle as you say, “i ordered dinner. a few minutes ago and i’m off work until the twenty-seventh — how about you fuck me better than you’ve been fucking my pillow so you can actually be satisfied?”
he grins up at you and throws his arms around you, flipping you both again as he begins to tug at your clothes while growling into your mouth then against your skin as he begins nipping his way down your neck.
“i’m guessing that’s a yes,” you gasp softly, crying out as he bites at your now bared nipple.
“yes,” he growls, then starts nipping again. “now quiet; gotta fuck you better, don’t i?”
#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta x reader#shouta aizawa drabble#catboy!shouta aizawa#shouta.♡#shou_nya.♡#— my hero academia.♡#hic sniff anon u get me. i was hoping for a pillow humping ask and this being one if the first omes that came in had me so fuckin excited#cas has mail !!#caspian.anon
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Happy destiel/castiel day! Here, have a drabble of warm fluffy fluff to start your week off right! September 18th, baby! (I’m a dork, especially for that angel!) 🤗🤓😇
Just Cas
“You know, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Cas stops rinsing out his coffee cup and glances over at Dean, sure that the confusion is clear on his face.
“You walking into that barn. Changing my life. Making me doubt all the life choices that led to me being unable to tell you how smokin’ hot you were.”
Cas turns back and drops his head, smiling. He finishes the remaining few cups and turns around as he dries his hands. He takes a deep breath and leans back against the kitchen counter, making sure to keep his expression neutral. This is the same dance they do every year and Cas loves it.
“You didn’t think I was “hot”, Dean. You were scared, confused, and more than a little pissed off, as a matter of fact.”
Dean smirks as he stands up from the table, a knowing look on his face. “Okay, yeah. Fair. But later on, every time I replayed that scene in my head you only got hotter and hotter, babe.”
Dean moves forward and wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, smelling of sunshine and leather. Basically he smells like Baby after he’s given her a nice cleaning and long drive to ‘stretch her legs’. Unsurprisingly, it is also one of Cas’s favorite scents. Dean leans forward, heat and mischief in his eyes.
“We could do a reenactment today, in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. We could dig out the old trench from the back of the closet, light some sparklers and go to town.” As if to prove his point, Dean leans in even closer, bringing their bodies into contact.
Cas snorts before he can stop himself, his neutrality over the subject disappearing like the soap bubbles down the drain behind him. “Really? You want to be intimate while I’m wearing that coat and you’re…what? Holding cheap and dubious pyrotechnics behind me? Dean.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to re-capture the romantic moment we met, Cas. Nothing wrong about that. If you want, I could pretend to stab you again.”
“With a knife or with something else?” Cas deadpans, hearing his voice go deeper even as Dean’s eyes dilate in reaction.
“Hmm, we’ll leave that part open for discussion.” Dean moves in again and they’re suddenly kissing. Cas thinks how glad he is that he gets to have this. Gets to have Dean. Oh, if only his younger, angelic self could see him now…
Dean eventually breaks their kiss and waggles his eyebrows, making his handsome face look silly and playful. Yet he’s still beautiful. “Well, what do you say? Up for some hanky-panky in the middle of the day to celebrate the anniversary of your entrance into my life, O’ Angel of Mine?”
Cas bites his lip and doesn’t say anything, tilting his head for old time’s sake as though he’s debating his next move. He gently takes Dean’s hand and turns him around to lead him from the kitchen. Yes. He will take this time to be with Dean. As a present to himself. As a present to both of them.
And later, when they are both sated, naked, and still tangled in the sheets of their bed, he will tell Dean anew all the ways that he’s changed him - from that blunt, cold unfeeling angel into this, whatever he is - a flawed, no-longer-bound-with-celestial-intent being that somehow loves his simple life. Just as it is. Dean is still Dean and he is finally, just Cas. Loved and known, at last.
Tagging @fellshish and @canonblastedships @clarkenting for some reblogs, help a strange sad writer girl bestie out. 😇🥰
#fan fic#destiel#happy castiel day!#September 18th#spn#my writing#drabble#destiel-ficlet#dean and cas#fluffy#Castiel#Just Cas#Just Dean
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; Cas ; he/it/they ; transmasc
!! I ONLY WRITE FOR MALE / TRANS MASC / GENDER NEUTRAL READER DO NOT ASK ME FOR A FEMALE READER !!
| : INBOX : ! open !
| : REQUESTS : ! open !
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MASTER LISTS !!
Welcome to the Jungle [COD]
I want to play a game [Horror]
The Grid [F1]
Mr. Blue Sky [Marvel]
Everybody gets lost at [Saltburn]
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The box of despair [WIPS]
𖦹 Bull reader [req]
𖦹 Dom!Oliver Quick X M!reader [req]
𖦹 Graves X ps!Reader [req]
𖦹 Pt.2 Puppy Soap X Bunny Reader [req]
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Playlists !!
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#masterlist#x male reader#x male y/n#cod fanfic#tlb x reader#tlb fanfic#slashers fanfiction#slashers x reader#drabbles#oneshots#stories#writing#cas speaks
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Castiel Masterlist
A rebloggable Castiel Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure.
A mix between GN. Reader & F. Reader (Individual stories specified)
Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories
Angels Are Watching Over You (1.4k) | Waking up from a nightmare and Castiel comforts you
Change of Heart, Change of Mind (Apocalypse World) (4.2k) | Y/N Winchester finds out that Apocalypse World Cas is their soulmate
The First Butterfly (1.9k) | You and Cas bond over your current interest in butterflies
Trying to use pick-up lines on Cas
Cas trying to impress you
Cas telling you he loves you for the first time
Catching Cas watching porn
Cas always watching over you
#castiel x you#castiel x reader#spn#supernatural#spn imagine#spn drabble#spn drabbles#spn one shot#supernatural imagine#supernatural drabble#supernatural drabbles#supernatural one shot#cas x you#cas x reader#gn reader#female reader#reader insert#fluff#kaleldobrev castiel masterlist
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Pairing: Cas x Reader
Reader pronouns: she/her
Cas arrived just in time to catch a glimpse of you finishing up some business with Dean. Dean glanced over his shoulder at the sound of rustling wings and swore under his breath.
"Alright, I think we're done here," he said, perhaps a little abruptly.
You glanced at the blue-eyed angel over his shoulder, who was peering at you curiously. "I'll get right on it," you said to the elder Winchester, and with one more look at Castiel you disappeared down the hall toward the depths of the bunker.
Dean sighed heavily and wiped a hand over his brow before turning to face the newly-arrived angel. "Cas," he said. "Wasn't expecting you."
Cas turned away from the hall you'd turned down. He'd watched you until you disappeared. "You aren't going to introduce me?" he asked.
Dean frowned. "No. Never. Ideally, the two of you never saw each other," he said gruffly. He considered his friend's expression. "Cas. She's a demon. The hot chick get-up is just her vessel. Can't you see her true face? Isn't it supposed to be horrifying?"
"Yes. I can see it, but—there's something... different about her."
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, what is with you and demon chicks? This is why I told you to come later..."
Prompt: "You aren't going to introduce me?" / "No. Never. Ideally, the two of you never saw each other."
#castiel x reader#demon!reader#cas x reader#cas fluff#spn fluff#cas imagines#cas drabbles#supernatural#spn fanfics
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For your 500 followers celebration I'd love to request a ficlet with Hangman and the girl next door!! ❤❤
pairing- hangman x female!reader
warnings- none idt?? Jake baking? guys there's no smut, no allusion to smut, no angst this is literal fluff (nauseating fluff at that) i don't even know who i am anymore i'm having an identity crisis
length- 0.6k
an- @dempy & anon i hope it's okay i combined y'alls requests :) thank you both sm!!!
we have officially moved away from these fics resembling anything to do with top gun and basically just using jake seresin as a face for my own stupid rom com ish
i probably took the girl next door thing a little too literally but...whatever. also i grew up in suburban california (not lemoore) and we definitely had block parties but is that a thing anywhere else? (someone told me they'd never heard of them idk)
You’re pretty sure the boxes in Jake’s house are still packed since he’s been in Lemoore for all of three weeks, and yet the neighborhood already adores him. You want to find it in you to be irritated that they’ve taken to a single man living alone much faster than they did with you.
You bet Jake never gets any questions about why he’s bought a house before getting married.
Cue eye roll.
To further your annoyance, you’re just as taken with your next-door neighbor as everyone else. You just hope you’re better at hiding it than they are.
(You’re not. But in your defense, you're the only one that comes home to see him vying for neighbor of the year by raking the leaves in your front yard, still in his flight suit.)
As if the dads need to be any more on edge, as if the moms need to trip over their words more frequently around him, Jake brings a pie to the neighborhood block party.
An actual fucking peach pie, that he made from scratch and it’s his mother’s recipe isn’t that so darling?
You briefly wonder if there was any merit to your sixth grade teacher telling you your eyes might get stuck given the amount of time that you spend rolling them.
Jake, the ham that he is, takes it all in stride. Lets the moms, grandmas, and teenage girls fawn over him, lets them pull him all over the party. Spurs it on, really, leaning in so they can get the full effect of his charming smile.
It’d be nauseating if he wasn’t so damn charismatic.
It’s maybe a little embarrassing that you’re so observant of Jake that you can tell when he gets a little uncomfortable, when Mrs. Wilkins runs her hands a little too firmly up his arm, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt where it strains around his bicep.
You’d like to think that his grin is extra warm in your direction when you appear at his elbow, making excuses about how he’s wanted over by the grill.
You try not to laugh as you hand him a beer. “You looked like you needed a save.”
He nods, looking grateful. “Thanks, darlin’.”
“Nice of you to agree to this.” You gesture to the tables of food and endless games of cornhole set up along your street. “They were pretty excited to have a welcome to the neighborhood get-together for you.”
“Walter just wanted an excuse to use his Big Green Egg, I’m sure.”
You snort. “Yeah, probably.”
Jake looks over your shoulder, panic curling in his tone. “Quick, kiss me!”
It’s a testament to what good friends you already are that you don’t even question it, instead leaning into the hand he gently places on your cheek and allowing yourself to be pulled into his hard chest.
His lips are surprisingly soft and you bite back a moan as his hand tangles in your hair. You're a little breathless as you pull back, trying not to let your mind spiral at the gossip storm you're certain you've just started.
“Where is she?”
“Where’s who?” He asks, widening those green eyes in feigned innocence.
“Whoever was coming over here? Was it Mrs. Wilkins again? She isn’t very subtle.”
He grins, eyes sparkling with trouble. “Nowhere, darlin’, just wanted you to kiss me.”
Your lips part in surprise, slapping him on the chest to reprimand him for that sneaky little trick.
“Better stay close though. I think Mrs. Wilkins might have it out for you now,” he continues, snaking an arm around your waist and tilting his sunglasses down so you can see him wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
#queue queue ca choo#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#hangman x you#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#jake hangman x reader#hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin#hangman drabble#hangman fluff#500 followers celly
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It's almost an accident, how Castiel comes to this particular realization. He is using his hands on Dean's cheeks to check his face for any injuries that may need cleaning or even stitching lately, moving Dean's head gently from side to side, when, as he is about to let go, Dean wordlessly tilts his head down, letting the weight of his head be held by Castiel's open hands.
He does exactly that, their eyes meeting for a brief second, his thumbs caressing Dean's cheekbones.
Another thing, he tells himself, he wants but will never allow himself to ask for. No the first one he has found out about, and it won't certainly be the last one either.
He reverently cradles Dean's face for a moment and from then on, it feels like he never lets go. He does it before leaning in to kiss his forehead, right after Dean shaves too, his skin smooth to the touch, and he still does it when he decides he wants to grow a beard (he will claim later on Castiel's opinion on it isn't a valid one because he simply smiled at him and told him he always looks handsome to him, with or without facial hair). He does it to pull Dean closer for a kiss, right as his laughter is slowly fading because apparently Castiel keeps being, without even trying to, hilarious.
"What do you need?" He asks in the dark, as he usually does after Dean has a nightmare, because that's what Dean asked him the first around he had one, he is sure Dean won't say anything, he will shake his head and tell him to go to sleep.
He doesn't.
Instead trembling hands close around Castiel's wrists and gently tug at them until Castiel gets what he means and closes his hands over the sides of his face. Dean has his eyes closed, but Castiel watches them anyway, moving rapidly under his eyelids, his thumbs caressing his cheekbones. He feels proud, he doesn't know if it's at himself for becoming such a safe haven for the one that needed one the most, or if it's at Dean, for being brave enough to ask for what he wanted.
"Thank you," he mutters and Dean scoffs lightly at that, opening one eye to look at him.
"Should be the one saying that, you weirdo." Dean hasn't let go of his wrists yet, he gives them a light squeeze, he leans in, even closer, and the kiss he gives Cas is full of said gratitude and a love he can feel his own heart echoing back at Dean's.
#started 3 different drabbles had a meltdown wrote this instead que aproveche#destiel#vanessa writes#ficlet#weirdo is like dean's fav pet name for cas#is in retaliation because sometimes cas calls him chickpea garbansito
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June 12th, prompt: Adventure
Grey has overtaken Dean's hair.
His skin has gone soft and wrinkly, his knees crack every time he crouches down, his steps have become slower, his arms weaker.
But that's okay, that's just what old age is like. He's just lucky he gets to experience it at all, and with Cas by his side - equally grey, equally wrinkly. Getting old really isn't all that bad when you get to watch the love of your life doing it alongside you.
Today, Jack has told them. Dean had known it was coming, it's alright.
"You ready?", Dean asks that night, a wrinkly hand searching for Cas' under the blanket.
"Yes." Cas squeezes his fingers, smiling calmly. And despite the lump in his throat, Dean isn't afraid, and he knows neither is Cas. "I've been ready for some time."
"I know, sweetheart."
"Are you scared?"
Dean's heart is beating a little too fast, but he shakes his head.
"Not really", he says truthfully. "Bit nervous, maybe. But hey, that's what imminent death will do to ya."
"It'll be fine, Dean." Cas pulls Dean's hand to his lips, presses a kiss to skin marked by age spots. "We'll be together in the Heaven our son built for us. If you know it's not the end, death is nothing but the next great adventure."
Cas is right, of course.
"And I can't wait to go on that adventure with you."
"See you soon", Cas smiles right before they close their eyes. "I love you."
"Love you, too."
Dean falls asleep with a feeling of peacefulness filling his whole body, and when he opens his eyes again, their bedroom is gone. He stands on a bridge surrounded by forest, body young and strong. Baby is there, but he doesn’t get in. He waits.
There's a shift in the breeze, a presence in his back.
"Hello, Dean."
And Dean smiles.
Let the adventure begin.
For @starcrosseddeancas Dreamy Drabbles
#this is far too long I'm so sorry#but eeeeeh we can let it get a bit out of hand as a land hurray on the last challenge day yeah?#dreamy drabbles#last day of dreamy drabbles#this went by so fast whut#destiel drabble#inspired by the ending of my fix-it fic#spn drabble#destiel ficlet#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#dean winchester gets to get old#as he deserved#cas is the love of deans life yall#drabble prompt: adventure#soft destiel#destiel fluff#my writing
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Im newb, still watching s06, but I already know the ending of castiel and also saw the script “But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”,
I cant stop imagining whatIF-Cas and Dean’s alive and getting older with his angel….
Maybe there will be some day, Dean realise that how Cas thinks about him
After so long, when he’s being an old man, maybe one day, he‘ll asks his angel wryly, “Still beautiful?”
And ofc Castiel will answer with his voice, “Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”
Maybe it’s Dean’s last day on earth so with Castiel’s real voice, Dean close his eyes, and right after that moment, Dean’s soul and Cas have an eye contact, and they’ll laugh
No ripper’s required, he’ll go to the place wherever he can go with Cas.
Inspired by Lana’s “Young and beautiful” song
SBSD
#destiel#supernatural#castiel#dean and cas#spn#dean winchester#still dean winchester#still beautiful#headcanon?#SBSD#spn drabble#songfic#what if#lana del rey#young and beautiful
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