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soft--dragon · 7 months

Text

Witches Curse

Words: 4,494

Warnings: None

This can be seen either romantically or platonically, I don't mind ^^

This was inspired by this incredible art and this idea by @carrie-tate . Check out her blog!! He makes amazing stuff :D <3

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Witches sucked, Castiel decides, glaring over his shoulder and rolling the tense muscles out the best he can. The ache persists much to his annoyance. He sighs bitterly. Witches sucked so much.

Dean, Sam, and Cas had been hunting something that had been running rampant. Cures and curses had been popping up around Missouri for the last few weeks - all indicating a witch on a spell spree. It seemed pretty cut and dry, and Dean had proudly bolstered they'd be back in time for beers and a good slice of pie.

But because their luck could never be that good, the hunt went sideways fast.

They'd snuck into the house easily, and found the altar room where the witch was preparing a new enchantment. Slowly, the trio split up and crept around to circle him. Sam had the shot lined up perfectly, a finger easing on the trigger when Dean had accidentally knocked down a shaky stack of mismatched crockery from his hiding place - inadvertently causing Sam to misfire from the crash and strike the drywall.

Turns out, people don't take kindly to being shot at.

The witch lashed out instantly, a frightened yell wrenching from him as he blasted the first spell to mind at his intruders. The flashes of light and echoing shots of guns were overwhelming.

Cas, armed with only his angelic grace, slipped around the firefight to hopefully catch the witch in a blind spot and end this. Unfortunately, one of Sam's bullets ricocheted off the concrete wall and only just missed Cas's cheek. The close call made him gasp in alarm, giving away the element of surprise.

In a split second, the witch whirled around and rambled off a fast spell, causing pain to streak through Cas's shoulder blades. He yelled out, stumbling away from the witch and grabbing at his spine when the feeling spread and something shifted under his skin. It hurt.

A sharp bang burst through the room, something wet hitting the floor and quickly followed by the heavy thudding of dead weight. Dean's gun was still smoking from the fresh bullet, raised to where the witch had just been standing, but he practically threw it to the ground in his rush to get to his friend's side.

"Cas! Cas, you alright? Talk to me!" He demanded, hands splayed out towards Castiel as the angel writhed on the spot, still desperately clawing at his spine.

"H-Hurts-" Cas choked out, suddenly wrenching at the sleeves of his coat to shed it from his burning skin.

In an instant, Dean was helping him yank off the heavy material, startling at the sight of Cas's skin moving under his white dress shirt. "Cas, what the fu-"

"Guys, what's happening?" Sam demanded worriedly from where he was crouched by the witch, checking for a pulse.

"That son a bitch did something to Cas!" Dean growled, panic in his face as the angel suddenly gasped and twisted in place. "Cas-"

A sharp tearing sound burst through the room and all Dean saw was a mass of darkness before he was thrown back into Sam. The Winchester brothers fell in a heap on the cold floor, the older man slightly winded from the sudden impact.

"Augh, get off of me, Dean."

"Give me… a sec, man. Jesus."

Dean coughed for air only to yelp when his younger brother hefted himself up on his forearms - making the older hunter roll off of Sam's lower back and land facedown on the concrete with a grunt.

Sam looked from Dean, to Cas and froze. His lips parted in bewildered shock, eyebrows practically in his hairline as he registered what he was seeing. "...Dean."

Dean, hearing the awe in his little brother’s voice, lifted himself from the floor to look at the end of the altar room. He froze too.

"Cas?" He asked cautiously.

Castiel, angel of the lord, was standing at the edge of the room with a pair of hulking, black wings stretched out on either side of his body.

So yeah, witches sucked.

Cas was staring at the feathered appendages with round, blue eyes. Then, after a moment of silence, he muttered a gruff, "Fuck."

The trio of misfits had left Missouri quickly after the curse had been placed on Castiel. Unfortunately, due to how misplaced they felt on a human vessel, Cas didn't trust himself to fly back to the Bunker. Cas' wings protested the cramped space the entire time he was stuck in the backseat of the Impala, which only added to his agitated state. Sam and Dean tried to get him to open up and let them help, but he sent them a sharp look at every attempt and continued brooding.

As soon as the Impala parked, Cas shoved himself out of the car and stomped up to the woods, ignoring the humans' calls behind him. While he trusted Sam and Dean - hell they were his closest friends - having his wings exposed was a level of vulnerability he never knew existed. He couldn't handle their eyes on his angelic appendages for another minute.

Hours later, Cas is fully settled into bitterness. No matter what he does, he can't get comfortable with how weighty and awkward the wings feel in a human vessel. With his grace, the impressive appendages are cloaked safely, tucked away from any misgivings in the human world. The overexposure is downright uncomfortable now - the dirt scratching on his primaries and the wind upsetting the pristine layout of feathers. Cas hates this.

Soft footsteps make the angel turn sharply, his years as a soldier instinctively preparing to yank out his blade and stab whatever was going to make his life worse.

Dean quickly holds up his hands in alarm, taking a stumbling step backward and almost tripping over a tree root. "Woah there, buddy," he placates with a nervous smile, eyeing the sharp blade. "Let's not go all 'Michael Myres' here, okay?"

Cas glares, but he already feels his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. With a sigh, Cas re-sheathes the blade and sits back on the forest floor, wings hiking up around himself to hide from Dean.

"What do you want, Dean?" He asks in a choleric tone, not wanting to be disturbed from his self-resenting, but safe position.

Dean didn't shift from his spot, hands slowly lowering to sit in his jacket pockets as he worriedly stared at Cas. "Sam and I have been looking into the lore," he says, hoping to draw the angel's interest. "We're tracking down a way to reverse this."

Cas doesn't answer.

Dean, never one to enjoy the silence, clears his throat and tries again. "You've been up here for hours, Cas, I just wanted to come check on you. You haven't exactly been very talkative since you got hexed."

"I wonder why." Cas snips, hunching deeper into himself. "It's not like a witch cursed me to expose the essence of my angelic side."

Dean makes a small noise of regret. "Right- uh… sorry."

At the subdued tone, Cas closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. When he opens them again, he tries to sound more neutral. "It's not your fault, Dean. Thank you for looking for a cure."

The sound of crunching twigs lifts Castiel's head, turning to see Dean slowly approaching. His eyes are glued to the trees ahead, avoiding looking at the wings that are shifting uneasily. The lack of staring is honestly a relief to Castiel, and he appreciates the gesture.

When Dean is standing by Cas - far enough to give space but close enough to hear each other easily - he flicks his gaze to the bright blue eyes that are watching him carefully. "Any room on this hill for one more?"

Cas regards the hunter for a moment, then sighs and nods, waving a hand as Sam taught him to show he didn't mind. Dean sinks to the ground, grunting in mild discomfort as his knees protest the action. He really was getting too old for this hunting business, he wasn’t sure how many years left his knees had with this work.

Once seated comfortably, Dean clasps his hands over his bent knees and releases a breath, inhaling slowly to enjoy the crisp air. He doesn't get much of a chance to enjoy the Bunker’s surrounding woods.

“Can I ask something?” He inquires.

Cas nods in his peripheral vision, still tucked into himself glumly.

“What do they feel like? In this body, I mean.”

Cas lets out a deep sigh and rolls his shoulders, the ache persisting and prickling at his neck. “It sucks.”

Dean couldn’t stop the small laugh that left him at the bone-dry, deadpan answer. He quickly schooled his expression, turning to apologize, but there was a small smile on Cas’s face. The angel glanced at him.

“Humans weren’t meant to encompass the full weight and strength of angel wings,” he says. “It's why we keep them tucked away when we use a human vessel. It protects the human from extra strain and protects us too.”

Dean cocks his head to the side. “Protects you?” He repeats.

Cas gives a small, miserable wave to his angelic appendages. “Earth is beautiful,” he sighs. “But it is filled with things that can damage our wings. It’s safer for everyone if we keep them hidden.”

Dean glances at the glossy, ebony feathers standing tall over him. With a small hum, he smiles at Cas. “Well, despite the situation, I’m glad I finally get to see them. They’re really cool.”

Castiel glances at Dean in confusion. “You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, most angels are depicted to have white wings, but having black ones? So fucking badass, man. If I was an angel, I’d be envious of em.”

Cas stares with wide eyes and a tilted head. After a moment, he shakes his head with a fond smile. “You never cease to confound me, Dean.”

Dean scoffs in bemusement. “Thanks?”

“You're welcome.”

The pair settle into a comfortable silence. Cas’s wings had come to rest on the ground, the puffed-up feathers smoothing down for the first time in hours. Cas too, had slumped into a more relaxed posture, his half-lidded eyes taking in the countryside. Dean, who was leaning back on his hands, snuck glances at the impressive wings every so often, captivated by their beauty and obvious strength. Dean did not doubt that Cas could easily smack him like a baseball with one of those bad boys. Yet, he felt no fear near the strong appendages. Instead, he got a weird, intense urge to ask one thing.

“Can I…?”

Cas turns to watch as Dean struggles to put his request into words, his mouth ticking up slightly in amusement as the human looks almost constipated. “Dean.” He says.

The man meets his eyes instantly, his nerves written clearly in the pupils though his face doesn’t show it. It was how Cas learned to understand the Winchesters over the years, emotion was all in the eyes, not the face - it was a rather endearing trait for the boys.

Wordlessly, Cas stretches out the wing closest to Dean, noticing the slight flinch in Dean’s posture as the appendage shows off its impressive size and build. One flap and Cas could send him tumbling down the hill, but he does no such thing. He holds it perfectly still and lets Dean register everything. Dean’s hands fidget on top of his knees, drawing Cas’s gaze to the shifting fingers. He smiles, despite his racing heart of exposing such a vulnerable thing to anyone who was not an angel.

“You may touch them,” he reassures quietly.

Dean swings around almost comically to stare at him. “Really?” He flits his gaze to the wings again and then back to Castiel. “I thought you’d smite me if I tried to ask.”

Cas gives a one-shouldered shrug and lets his smile soften towards the man. “I trust you,” he offers, his voice just as gentle as his expression. “Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone do so.”

Dean noticeably swallows, lips parted in bewilderment. But whatever he is going to say, it doesn't leave his lips. Instead, he closes his mouth and shifts to turn to the wall of feathers. A hand leaves his knees and slowly raises to the wing, fingers just grazing the outer plumage. He huffs in surprise, the silky surface sliding over his skin pleasantly.

“Woah,” he mumbles, dragging his palm over the soft primaries. “Awesome.”

Cas has to fight back a shudder from the contact, though the slight tension in his brow catches Dean's attention. Immediately drawing back his hand in concern, he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers quickly, his wing already missing the warmth of Dean’s palm. “Like I said, it has been… a long time since anyone has touched my wings.”

“Oh. Do you want me to keep going?”

“That would be nice.”

Dean’s fingers return to the feathers, carefully raking through the thick primaries with a gentle and curious touch. With how Cas’s wing has stretched to practically wrap around and encompass Dean, he has easy access to the entire appendage. Cas hums appreciatively and rolls his shoulders, the ache in his back easing up finally.

“Feel alright?” Dean double-checks.

“It feels… quite relaxing, yes.” Cas folds his knees to his chest and drops his head onto his crossed arms. He watches lazily as Dean slowly explores the wing. He registers a slight pull on his coverts and chuckles a bit. “Just don’t tug any of the feathers out, Dean. It’s not molting season yet.”

“You guys molt?” Dean repeats in surprise, looking from the wing to Cas, eyebrows high as he searches the angel’s face for any sign of jest.

Cas nods. “Of course. It’s a yearly experience, we have to do it to have healthy wings.”

Dean scoffs, but it’s in disbelief, not malice. “Wow.” He mutters, returning his gaze to the feather-endowed appendages. “You guys really are like birds, huh?”

Cas rolls his eyes and lightly smacks Dean in the face with the wing, pushing down a grin when the man splutters and pushes away from the offending limb. He looks at Cas in annoyance.

“Sorry, sometimes I can’t control the movement,” Cas smiles innocently. “Instinctive flexing, it’s completely involuntary.”

Dean scowls at him, but a smirk curls at his lip. “Dick,” he jabs light-heartedly.

“Ass-butt,” Cas replies in kind, settling on his arms and grinning.

Dean returns his focus to the wings before him and shifts his hand to rake through the feathers, smirking when he hears Cas hum again - it isn’t unlike petting a cat. The thought made Dean snicker, but Cas was too far gone in enjoyment to care.

The steady combing through feathers settles Castiel’s tense spine and brow, letting himself enjoy the sensations wholeheartedly. The last time he’d had the joy of having his wings groomed was back when he was a servant of Heaven. The angels often help each other maintain their wings to perfection, making it a bonding activity of sorts. It was a pastime Cas didn’t think he’d ever have the honor of experiencing again. He smiles into his arms. Figures that he’d be able to relive it with the Winchesters. They always managed to find ways to make his life interesting in some way or another, whether it be a good surprise or not. This, however, was a surprise he liked. The prior, bitter resentment from the curse soothed into simple bliss.

Dean’s fingers shift from combing through his primaries to his secondaries. The change makes Cas shift in place, the wing flexing a bit as the sensations sparked through the wing and down his spine. Dean paused at the reaction and glanced at the angel in surprise.

He took in Castiel’s posture, once relaxed and easy, now weirdly tense. His eyes are still closed, but there’s a marginal scrunch that draws attention to them. His simple grin was replaced with a slightly wobbly smile.

“Cas?” Dean asks worriedly, his eyes raking over the angel’s form in concern. “Are you good?”

“Y-Yes.” Cas’s answer was nowhere near as firm as his previous confirmation. If anything, Dean swore his voice sounded a touch higher pitched than normal. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Dean pressed. “I can stop if this is uncomfortable at all-”

Cas opens his eyes and Dean is surprised at the slight plead in his pupils. “Please don’t,” he almost begs. “I’ve missed this.”

Lips parted in surprise, Dean digests those words. Cas looked… well shit, he looked like he was desperate for this. A weird pang cuts across Dean’s heart as a thought hits him. Is Cas touch starved?

Getting himself together, Dean nods and sends the angel a reassuring smile. “Alright.” He concedes. “Just lemme know if anything is wrong, okay?”

Cas gives an answering nod, tucking himself back into his arms and stretching his wing out again. ‘Instinctive flexing’, Cas had mentioned before. Dean thought that Cas was joking, but maybe he actually was telling the truth. That would explain the sudden twitchiness, and after all, the angel had said he hadn’t had this kind of touch in a while.

Questions satiated, Dean lifts his hand and combs one hand through secondary converts. Cas yelps, his wing ruffling and shoulders leaping to his ears as his whole body jolts.

Dean wrenches his hand away in alarm and snaps towards the angel. “Cas-?” He demands, but then he registers Castiel, and all thoughts die in his head.

Cas has his knuckles pressed to his lips as he snickers, light sounds that seem so unusual for the angel. The force of his grin is causing his eyes to squint. The sight leaves Dean speechless, feeling as if he’d been thrown into an ocean and left to tread the waters with no help. Then, once the shock subsides, the puzzle pieces click into place and it's as if a lightbulb gets turned on above his head.

“No.” He mutters, his anxiety replaced with a sudden building elation. His grin builds on his face, “No way.”

Cas, who finally managed to settle the small titters leaving his lips, glances over at Dean with an endearingly confused face. “Uh, I don’t… I’m sorry, I'm not sure what that-”

Dean’s hand sweeps out to bury into the secondary coverts again, and Cas yelps for a second time, tumbling backward in his haste to evade the sudden tingling invading his senses. “Gah- De-Dehehean!” He chokes out through a series of tumbling chuckles, a hand lifting to his mouth again to muffle the noise.

Dean laughs, loud and excited. “You have got to be kidding me!” He grins, his hands chasing the wings down to the ground and scratching into the fluffy feathers. “You’re ticklish?!”

Cas wriggles from his spot on the grass, hiccups peppering between his startled laughter. “Dehehehean! Whahahat ahahare yohohou- AHAHAHA!”

Cas’s own words are lost to his mirth, his body trying to curl into a ball while his wings stay splayed out - eager for attention while the host of said wings squirmed uncontrollably. Dean snickers from where he’s settled beside Cas’s wing, his other hand coming up to hold the top of the appendage while the other sneaks in to tickle the feathers.

“Who would’ve thought, huh?” He grins, “Castiel has ticklish wings. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh this much, man.”

Cas’s arms don’t know what to do with themselves - the rapid electric tingles shooting through his body render him useless and flailing. He grabs onto his forearms and kicks uselessly at the grass, throwing his head back as laughter escapes his mouth.

“Dehehehean!” He presses out, his eyes squeezed shut instinctively.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Whahahat ihihis thihihis?”

Dean snorts, mostly in surprise. “You’ve never been tickled before?”

Cas shakes his head rapidly, too caught up in his mirth to give a verbal reply. Dean, seeing that Cas is struggling for air, eases up on the sensitive coverts and settles back into tickling along the secondaries and primaries.

“Basically, you’ve got sensitive wings,” Dean explains. “Being ticklish is pretty common for humans, it’s our nervous system that makes it possible. Sammy can give you the whole scientific spiel of it if you want. My version, though? Touching the body in a certain way makes someone laugh, it’s a way to mess with people and a way to bond. God knows I tickled Sam so much growing up. He still gets these nervous giggles when people wiggle their fingers at him.”

Dean shakes his head fondly as he speaks and scratches along the bone of the wing. Cas suddenly bucks with a loud squeal, crashing back into the grass and giggling hysterically. Castiel was giggling. Dean’s grin widened at the sound though his eyes softened. It was rare when he got even a chuckle out of Cas, this was a whole dang gift basket in itself.

“THIHIhihihis feheheels sohoho strahahange!” Cas manages to get out, his cheeks growing pink from his ongoing laughter, and the subconscious embarrassment of letting out such an unnatural sound for an angel.

Dean wiggles two fingers into the bend of the wing with a look at his friend. “Good strange or bad strange?”

Cas squeaks in laughter, his hiccupping giggles coming back full force. “Ihihit feheheels nihihice? Buhuhut Ihihi cahahdn’t stohohop mohoving-” Dean’s fingers skim a particularly sensitive spot, causing Cas to roll onto his side, proving his own words.

Dean snickers. “Yeah, that’s normal. The usual reaction is to try and get away….” The rest of Castiel’s words clicked in Dean’s head. “Wait, are you saying you like this?”

Cas rolls back over and looks up at Dean through his eyelashes. ‘Ihihis thahat wrohong?” He asks through tumbling giggles.

Dean bites his tongue to stop his mouth from possibly making a fool of himself, but he can’t stop the endeared smile that spreads on his face. “Nah,” he reassures when he’s sure he’s got his emotions under lock again. He tweaks the sensitive spot on the bone just to hear Cas squeal again. “It’s not wrong, Cas.”

Questions answered, Cas lets his head fall back and simply laughs, his chest feeling lighter than it had in, well, ever. The tickling shifted from light skittering, to gentle scratching - Dean’s hand making its way across the sensitive areas. When he dropped to test the scapular of Cas’s wing, Castiel shrieked.

The sudden jump of octaves made Dean jolt in surprise, but he burst out laughing not a moment later as he watched Cas squirm and laugh twice as hard as before. “Christ on a stick, Cas!” He chuckles warmly. “Gonna scare off all the birds round here.”

Cas twists on the grass and holds his arms tightly, though one of them does let go to swipe in Dean’s direction, nowhere near close, however. “DEHEHEHEAN!”

Dean opens his mouth to answer when something soft brushes the exposed skin of his ankle from where his pant legs have risen. Turning to look down, Dean’s mouth slips open in shock. A little red flower, which was most definitely not there before, waves its petals in the light breeze. Dean glances around, and to his surprise, there’s a series of small flowers budding and growing around the pair of them, a mix of reds and pinks. Dean’s fingers have slowed to gentle tracing on Castiel’s scapulars, distracted by the small garden of flowers blooming. It’s a rather captivating sight, watching the flowers press through the grass to stand proudly in the sunlight, perfect and pristine to every petal.

Cas meanwhile, is being kept in a giggly form of purgatory of precise, tickling fingers. And as much as he’s enjoying the attention, he needs a break from that spot before he accidentally smites someone - namely Dean.

“D-Dehehean!” he gasps out again, “P-Plehehease!”

Snapped out of his stupor, Dean pauses in his wiggling motions, looking back to the angel who slumps into the flower-dotted grass with a giggly sigh of relief. The red flowers match his flushed face, leaning towards Cas from their angle of growth. Dean can’t help but stare.

After giving his friend a chance to recover, Dean clears his throat. “Cas?” He asks quietly.

A soft, warm hum leaves Castiel as he calms down, eyelashes fluttering open to look at Dean. “Mhm?”

Dean glances at the grass. “Did you… did you make these?”

The angel’s eyebrow lifts in confusion, turning his head to the side to where Dean is looking. “Oh.” He practically chirps in surprise. He sits up on his forearms, glancing around the field where flowers have sprouted. “Ah, yes, I think I did.” His wings rise carefully from the grass to reveal a series of little yellow flowers hidden underneath the feathers.

Dean’s eyebrows lift to his hair as he takes in the whole field of color. “What are they? I didn’t know you could miracle flowers out of thin air.”

Cas carefully plucks one of the yellow ones off the grass and holds it up to his face to inspect. “I have not made them since I was a fledgling,” he mused, turning the stalk in his fingers idly. “They are buttercups.”

Dean watches as Cas is captivated by the small plant in his fingers. He leans forward slightly to look at it closer, cocking his head to the side curiously. “Why’d you decide to pull out the green thumb again?”

Cas glances up and gives Dean a small, shy smile. “It was subconscious, I believe,” he murmured. “I haven’t felt this relaxed or happy in a long time. I suppose the flowers are a byproduct of my emotions, flowers do have meanings after all.”

Dean’s heart ached for the angel. He turned to look around again and admired the patches of petals. “Well, I think you made a fine batch of buttercups,” he commented. “Maybe you can grow a few different kinds of flowers around the Bunker. The lawn looks pretty sad, so some flowers would do it good.”

Cas’s face lit up like a damn Christmas tree. “Really?” he asked, “you would like that?”

Dean gives a one-shouldered shrug and lets his smile soften toward the angel. “I trust your florist talents,” he says. “Besides, I think Sam would like it too.”

Cas grins, wide and warm. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, of course, man. If it makes you happy then-”

“Not just for that,” Cas cuts him off, his smile slipping back into shyness. “About… before. While this whole 'tickling' thing is new to me, I haven’t laughed like that in a while, and the wing grooming was appreciated too. So, thank you for that. It meant a lot.”

Dean is left speechless for what feels like the sixth time that day. He takes in Castiel’s genuine smile and relaxed form, his blue eyes brighter than his angelic glow could hope to achieve. Dean finds himself grinning, soft and sincere.

“Anytime Cas.”

#spn tickle #supernatural #supernatural tickle #lee!castiel #ler!dean winchester #dean winchester #castiel #sam #(briefly)#my fanfic

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cringemesstickles · 4 months

Text

To Cheer Up An Angel

Summary: Castiel is in a bad headspace and Sam wants to help.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1,182

A/N: Anon requested platonic Sam and Cas! This was super fun to write and I definitely have a soft spot for Sam and Cas, both platonic and romantic. 🥹

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It was a well known fact that Castiel, the angel of the lord, wasn’t exactly the most relaxed person. Often times when he got stressed, he would turn away help, insisting that he could manage.

Dean would often tell him that he’s worse than Sam.

Today, the angel seemed particularly uneasy. It was as though the world rested upon his shoulders, leaving him worn and jaded.

When Sam walked by one of the bunker’s spare rooms, he spotted Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression one of solemnity and thoughtfulness, but mostly exhaustion.

“Cas?”

The angel looked up, trying to ease the worry from his features.

“Hello, Sam. I didn’t hear you come in.” He spoke in his usual low, gravelly voice, trying to give a somewhat convincing smile.

However, the youngest Winchester saw straight through the facade, having used the same one countless times.

“Cas, I know that you’re-”

“Sam, I assure you I’m quite alright. There is no need for you to worry.”

Sam’s expression softened, his eyes laced with the exact emotion that Castiel had dismissed. He tilted his head, his brows knitting together as he employed his most powerful weapon…the puppy dog eyes.

He looked deeply at the angel, his big, expressive eyes holding a slight desperation, conveying a silent plea.

“No, Cas, you’re not alright, but that’s okay. Just let me help… please..?”

Cas knows that the moment he looks into those eyes, it’s over, and he tries his hardest to keep his gaze away, but those pleading eyes just sucked him right in.

With a sigh of defeat, Cas properly meets the younger’s gaze, giving in to the puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, I’m not alright. It’s just so much to bear…” He began, Sam giving his full attention.

“The angels, the archangels, the never ending celestial wars… it’s just a lot, that’s all.”

Sam nodded with understanding, then he went silent, thinking of ways he could help relieve at least some of the stress.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

“Whenever I’m stressed out, Dean tickles me until I can’t think straight… it always makes me feel better.”

The dark haired angel rose an eyebrow, his face taking on a look of slight nervousness.

“That is very thoughtful, Sam, but I really don’t think it is necessahahary- Sahaham!”

The angel was interrupted by a fit of his own chuckles, Sam’s fingers having crept towards his ribcage while he was talking.

The Winchester’s eyes sparkled with glee at the sound of his friend’s laughter, his fingers making haste in their diligent dance, evoking more lighthearted noises from the angel.

“See? Doesn’t it feel nice to laugh?” Sam smiled, lightly spidering over the angel’s ribs.

“I-I suppose it is rather nihihice…” Admitted Cas, though he couldn’t help but squirm.

Sam’s touch was gentle, filled with love and care, keeping it hard enough to tickle but light enough to not overwhelm.

Castiel could feel the tension being released with each tickle, Sam’s nimble fingers picking apart his worries piece by piece, releasing them through laughter.

Sam went from spot to spot, giddily exploring and finding which spots are best.

“You’re pretty ticklish here… what about here?” He moved his fingers to drag up and down Cas’s sides, bringing forth a yelp and a torrent of titters from the angel, who was starting to squirm more incessantly.

Sam couldn’t help but giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

As Sam’s fingers fluttered and grazed all over the many tickle spots, he could feel the joy radiating from the angel, and he found himself imitating that same joy, giggling along with his friend.

They were almost bouncing off of each other; Sam’s laughter and dimpled smile would make Castiel even happier and laugh even more, Sam in turn replicating the contagious happiness with his own amplified giggles.

The taller man began to brush his fingertips gently over Cas’s neck, eliciting a burst of light titters and even a snort, making Sam’s eyes light up with mischief.

“I didn’t know angels could snort!” He exclaimed, continuing the careful ministrations, picking up the speed only slightly.

“Sahaham! That spot is q-quite tehehender!” The angel giggled, another snort slipping, making him blush with mild embarrassment. He raised his shoulders to try and protect himself, only to find that the defense was futile and simply served to trap Sam’s agile fingers.

“I see that! Your neck is almost as bad as mine, haha!” Teased Sam, his voice soft, carrying a tone of sincerity.

Though the tickling was fun, Castiel was beginning to feel a tad overwhelmed, so he finally called out. “Okay, Sam, enohohough!”

At those words, Sam immediately retracted his hands, allowing the angel some space to breathe.

“Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

The raven haired angel merely shook his head with a grin, catching his breath and releasing the rest of his titters.

“Not at ahahall… I’m quite alright, thanks to you, of course.” He assured, giving the youngest Winchester a grateful smile.

Sam returned the smile with one of his own, nodding warmly.

Once the angel caught his breath, he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, looking at him with utmost sincerity.

“You are a good friend, Sam. I know you question yourself at times… but don’t ever doubt that you have the purest of intentions. You have a heart of gold, Sam.”

The hunter’s face was a picture of gratitude, touched by the words of his celestial friend.

“Thanks, Cas… that means a lot.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a couple more moments, enjoying each other’s company.

“You wanna go hang out in the kitchen? Dean is making pie.” Sam piped up, watching Cas raise an eyebrow at the statement.

“Since when does Dean make pie?”

Sam chuckled at the angel’s (warranted in Sam’s opinion) confusion.

“Trust me, Cas… I asked the same question.”

Regardless of their skepticism towards Dean’s sudden baking escapade, they migrated to the kitchen to hang out and converse, sharing amused glances whenever Dean would boast about his pie, claiming it was going to be the best pie ever.

“Calm down, Betty Crocker… the last time you tried to make a pie, you nearly blew it up and made a mess in the kitchen.” Sam teased, rolling his eyes at his older brother’s cockiness.

Dean, apron and all, shot his little brother a deadpan expression.

“Watch it, Sammy… don’t make me come over there.”

The angel and the hunter chuckled, looking at each other with charmed expressions.

“Dean, I do not doubt your cooking capabilities… but baking is a diligent process if you want to do it correctly.” Cas critiqued, earning a scoff from the older Winchester.

“Pfft- cooking, baking, what’s the difference? Actually, I’ll tell you the difference… pie!”

Sam and Cas chuckled with pure amusement, endeared by Dean’s typical charm and humor.

Dean didn’t ask how Sam managed to get the angel out of his rut… he was simply content that everyone was happy and smiling, even if it was at the expense of him and his pie.

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naughtystiel · 11 months

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‘cause i’m broken when i’m open and i don’t feel like i’m strong enough

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found--family · 4 months

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sometimes i think about him: Lee Majdoub who played hannah's male vessel acknowledging the love and affection hannah had for castiel and how he wanted to do those feelings justice. the same actor who played a queer fantasy prince in a mlm couple in Dirk Gently and had a beautiful on-screen gay kiss (a show which also starred Dean's fave male wrestler proving we all live in the spn multiverse).

sometimes i think about society if we'd been given more scenes with male hannah and castiel and how tptb would not have been able to dispel the soft gay vibes (even if it was ultimately unrequited).

imagine dean seeing cas be all caring and endeared by this guy - try to tell me we wouldn't have gotten jealous dean i dare you.

#lee majdoub #castiel #mlm #gayngel #thoughts #queer characters #11x02 #spn posting

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homoangel · 10 months

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now cas is asking dean what the fuck was all this then

"while i was saving your brothers life?! the light is bisexual dont you think i know what that means dean!?"

#(maybe someone in lees bar didnt put their phone in the basket...)#spn crack #yes im packing for my trip of course i am dont worry about the supernatural memes #spn #angelrot #castiel #phonenatural

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xlr8nrg · 2 days

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Cass & Cat

#supernatural #spn #supernatural art #spn art #not my art #supernatural artwork #spn artwork #spn fanart #supernatural fanart #castiel #castiel art #castie fanart #vania lee fa #ArtStation

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deancasforcutie · 18 days

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Dean + holding hands with his lovers

bonus:

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never-forget-viva-la-pluto · 8 months

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It's not super important, but it's important to me that someone other than me know

Lee Majdoub, aka The guy that played Agent Stone in the Sonic movie (ya know the guy who is super gay for robotnic)

Also played the "guy" vessel for Hannah in Supernatural (ya know the one who was super gay for castiel)

It's not important

But it's important for me to say it here

I hope they give stone a good bf in movie 3. He deserves it

#sonic #sonic the movie #sonic the movie 2 #agent stone #supernatural #supernatural hannah #spn hannah #castiel #i know he played a different gay guy in another show #is gay in his contract #lee majdoub

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pickledpascal · 2 months

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Meat & Candy

Chapter Three

Warnings: innuendos, sibling teasing, dean being nervous, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

Meat & Candy Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Before Castiel left the restaurant, he and Dean exchanged numbers to work out a time for Dean’s “lesson.” Castiel couldn’t help but feel excited about it.

Not only because Dean was an attractive man but because he loved food and he loved seeing the process of a professional chef. The way they moved around in a busy kitchen, how they prepared for the upcoming day, the precise hand of how they plated a dish—it all interested him. And told Castiel a lot about a chef. Would Dean be one of those hot-headed chefs who screamed at his staff when a plate came to the pass raw and ultimately pushed his chefs to be better? Or was Dean more calm, collected, and gently pushed until he’d talk with one of his chefs about their performance?

Castiel hoped it was the latter.

As Dean’s eyes followed Castiel through the windows, Sam snickered behind him. Dean turned, rolling his eyes. “Spit it out, Sammy.”

“‘Would you like to come back tomorrow?’ So we can kiss on the mouth?” Sammy mocked in a deeper voice, imitating Dean. “You’re so obvious sometimes, Dean. I’m surprised Castiel didn’t just kiss you goodbye.”

Dean titled his head. “What?” He felt dizzy. Did Castiel like him? Well, Dean knew he could be charming and he knew his looks were enough to make anyone fall for him but he’s had…. Issues. Enough issues where he still got surprised that people found him attractive and liked him for who he was. Yeah, that still got him.

“You’re so fucking oblivious sometimes, I can’t believe you.” Sam let out a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Or maybe you’re just seeing things.” Dean pointed out, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in his chest.

The last time Dean had a relationship was nearly sixteen years ago when Emma was born. He had this on-and-off thing with Benny but Dean wouldn’t call that a relationship. More like friends with benefits. Plus, he cut that off a while ago. Now, they were just friends. Benny met a girl named Andrea and they were engaged. Dean was happy for him.

And Dean, for a while, was completely fine with being alone.

Lately, Emma hasn't been fine with it.

Did she want Dean to go home with just anyone? Absolutely not. But she wanted him to get out there. And Sam couldn't help but agree. Hell, everyone in Dean's life agreed.

And Dean…. Well, he didn't know what to do with that.

“What're you gonna do tomorrow anyway?” Sam asked, leaning up against the table he was working at.

Dean pursed his lips. “The classics? Maybe something else. I've been cooking up some stuff in my head.” He joked, snapping his finger and winking at Sam.

“You suck.” Sam wasn't impressed.

He had to deal with Dean's coping mechanisms for most of his life. Sam knew he was still affected by everything that happened to them when they were kids. Dean remembered most, if not all, of what happened to them. Sam, not so much, simply because he was younger and his early years were a little fuzzy.

“And you swallow.” Dean countered.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “Get the fuck outta here and get the shit for our tasting session.”

Dean laughed and nodded. “Gotcha. See in a few.” He went to the front door. “And by a few, I mean hours.” He waved as he exited.

One of Dean's favorite things to do as a chef is to walk around the alleyway markets, checking out the produce, talking to a few vendors, and simply taking the time to slow down. He knew a lot of chefs thrived on adrenaline and the heat of the kitchen. Not Dean. He thrived for these moments. Quiet ones. Calm ones. Don't get him wrong, he loved being in the kitchen and he loved the feeling of camaraderie among his cooks when they completed a service but he cherished his time off just as much.

“Hey, Donna!” Dean greeted her with a wide smile. He'd known Donna for a while.

She returned the smile. “Heya, Dean. What can I do ya for?”

“I’ll take five bunches of parsley, five pounds of tomatoes, two of apricots, and,” Dean grabbed one of the granny smith apples that sat in Donna's crates and tossed it into the air. “Three pounds of apples.”

Donna nodded and began to bag everything for Dean. She'd get one of her workers to deliver it to the restaurant. “You seen Jody yet today?”

“No, why?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. Jody was Dean's butcher of choice and she usually came in the afternoons to drop off whatever order he made in the morning.

“She has something special for ya.” Donna winked.

Dean chuckled softly and finished up, paying for all the things he got. He went to a few other vendors, talking and laughing as he paid for stuff. Some things he thought Emma would like. For instance, he got a citrus and herbal candle—Emma had a nice candle collection going and some of her favorite smells were citrus and floral.

When Dean came back from the markets, Emma sat at one of the tables doing her homework. He ruffled her hair when he got close. She shot him an annoyed, but affectionate, look.

“Math still suck ass?” He asked with an easy smile.

Emma let out a sigh as she looked down at her notebook that had scribbles she didn’t understand even though she was the one that wrote them down. “Yeah.”

“Want a distraction?” Dean leaned in closer to Emma, a hand on the back of her chair.

Emma glanced at her father from her work and thought it over. Dean was usually good at distractions but also good at reminding her to finish her work afterward. She stood and motioned for Dean to enter the kitchen.

Dean’s smile widened as he opened the kitchen door for her and watched as she interacted with Sam, Benny, and the other chefs—Lee, Garth, Jack, and Charlie.

To be fair, they were family to Emma before they were Dean’s employees.

“What should we have her on?” Lee rubbed his chin, looking at the youngest in their brigade, Jack. “Think she can handle searing off the meats?” He teased.

Jack laughed nervously, not sure if he should answer at all. “Well, uh….”

Benny rolled his eyes and punched Jack’s shoulder gently. “Don’t answer that. Lee’s just messin’ with ya.” He glanced at Emma who was glaring at them. “She could probably get every station done on time and still have time to do homework.” He winked.

Dean put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Must run in the family.”

“No. Uncle Sammy sucks in the kitchen.” Emma shuddered. Sam rolled his eyes.

The room burst into laughter. “Well, it runs in my blood.” Dean rephrased. “Anyway, c’mon,” His voice shifted to the one he usually used when he had to work, yelling orders over to pass to make sure his cooks heard him. “We’re gonna do a quick spread of each dish we will be serving, the correct portioning, so take small bites to make sure it tastes how it’s supposed to. Sam,” He looked at his behemoth of a brother, “Do not take bigger bites than you’re supposed to. You’ll be leaving scraps for Jack.”

———

After the interview, Castiel got some good work done on the article at the office. Sure, he could just write down the questions and Dean’s responses but where’s the fun in that? He wanted to make it more of a “character study” than an interview. He always felt normal interview articles lacked a certain soul. They never treated the person they were interviewing as a person.

“Hey, Cassie!” Castiel heard the familiar voice of his brother as he entered his house. And he could sense the scent of cooking wine.

“Hello, Gabriel.” Castiel greeted, seeing Claire sitting at the kitchen island as she watched Gabriel in the kitchen. Something in his heart squeezed.

Gabriel was no Masterchef—like Castiel would assume Dean would be—but he was less helpless in the kitchen than Castiel and helped him out a lot when he worked long days and wanted to make sure Claire ate something for dinner other than Wendy’s or some other fast food restaurant.

“How was that interview with Mr. Winchester?” Gabe asked with a suggestive tone.

Castiel tilted his head, turning to Claire. “Did you tell him?”

Claire shrugged and shook her head. “No. I mean I told him you were interviewing someone but I didn’t remember his name.”

Castiel looked from Claire to Gabriel with curious eyes.

His brother shifted slightly, his smug smirk never left his lips. “I sold that spot to Mr. Winchester. His house too. And occasionally we just talk for fun.” He shrugged.

Castiel's eyebrows raised. He had a connection to Dean? “How long have you known him?” He couldn't help but ask.

Gabriel's eyes squinted a little at him. “A while. We met while he was still in New York for culinary school.”

Castiel noted the fact that Dean went to culinary school in New York in the back of his head. He became more intrigued. Gabriel lived in New York over a decade ago. Castiel was mostly surprised he'd never heard of Dean before now. But then again, Gabriel could be the type to forget to let people know things.

He and Castiel were different that way. It was a wonder how they were related. They were very different but seemed to work well together.

“What…. Was he like?” Castiel asked, his heart pounding faster.

Gabriel shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hot. That hasn't changed much. And a little skinnier.” He laughed softly. “Now that changed. He put on some muscle. The man became a proper dilf.”

Claire tilted her head, suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation. Maybe that was part of the reason why the rumors of the restaurant were circulating around her school.

A hot head chef with a kid? It didn't even matter if he was single or not. Say hello to daddy issues.

———

Dean couldn't keep Castiel out of his head. He was buzzing around up there like a gnat—no, more like a bee. Gnats were far more annoying than bees. Bees were more important, too. They contributed to pollen dispersal and made honey. Honey was good. As far as Dean knew, gnats simply existed to annoy the hell out of people.

He leaned up against one of the counters in the kitchen and rubbed at his temples. He hadn't felt this kind of nervousness since he and Cassie were a thing. That thought made his heart sink.

Cassie was the last person Dean had been in a relationship with. The last person that meant something to him. In more than just a familial or friendly way.

And, shit, he was cooking for Cas. Cooking like this was intimate for Dean. It wasn't as meaningful when he was behind a wall, cooking for tables of people but Cas would actually be able to see the work and care he put into everything.

Wait, when did he become Cas?

Dean shook his head and took a deep breath. He tried to remember what his therapist told him. Those breathing exercises.

In. One, two, three. Hold. Out. One, two, three. Repeat three more times to make it an even four.

His heart slowed. Dean ran a hand through his hair before he noticed Benny standing near the back of the kitchen. He stood straighter.

“Did you, uh, watch all that?” Dean asked nervously.

Benny nodded as he approached slowly. “No worries, man. I get it. You like him. And….” He paused to try and find the right words. “It's been a while since you felt like that. Like something real might happen.”

Dean didn't want to look Benny in the eyes because he was exactly right. Why did Dean have to surround himself with people who could see right through him? Oh, right, because he wanted to hire people who he could trust and anticipate his needs before he asked for something.

“I'm proud of you.” Benny eventually said, eyes softening as he looked at Dean. “You deserve something nice. Someone nice.”

Dean closed his eyes at the praise. He felt like he didn't deserve it. He still wasn't used to it, even with as much praise Ellen and Bobby had given him over the years, the feeling didn't change much from his younger years. Dads sucked like that.

Benny pulled Dean into a hug, surprising him. Dean simply let it happen, holding onto him.

“You're such a good dad, y'know that?” Benny pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. He just wanted to be there for his friend. “I see the way Emma looks at you. Like you hung the damn moon, just for her. You're doing good, don't forget that.”

Dean took in another deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, man.” He leaned back against the counters. “I, um, I needed that.” He admitted.

“I knew you did.” Benny said softly. “Just… Do something for yourself for once, hm?”

With that, Benny was gone. He had retreated through the back door to give Dean some privacy.

Cooking could be intimate with the right person after all.

Or it could be hell.

Dean has felt his fair share of both in his forty or so years of being alive.

“Hello?” Castiel poked his head through the door to the kitchen, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on Dean. He had a notebook in his hands with a pen clipped on the cover.

He looked like a nerd. With his trench coat and tie combo. It made Dean smile.

“Um, Sam just let me in. I know I'm early. Is that okay? Or do you need more time to prepare?” Castiel asked shyly, playing with the edges of his notebook.

Dean's smile widened a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He quickly wiped the look off his face as he took a breath, “No, you're fine. Don't worry.”

He clapped his hands together before he motioned for Castiel to come closer. “Take a look around. Feel free to ask me any questions while I'm cooking, I can multitask pretty well.” Dean smirked and winked at the other man, not missing the way Sam looked at him through the window between the kitchen and the dining room.

Castiel hummed a little as he eagerly looked at the pre-portioned ingredients. It seemed like he was trying to figure out what Dean was going to do with them before he started.

He had no idea.

Less than a few minutes passed before the two dishes Dean made were finished. And Castiel's mouth was watering just looking at them.

Dean slid the first dish to Castiel. “This is my version of a classic breakfast. At least, what I assume is a classic breakfast.” He flushed a little as he looked down at the dish. “Egg's benedict with bacon on top and diced roasted potatoes.”

Castiel almost didn't want to take a fork and bite into it. The hollandaise was so fluffy and perfect looking with the way it dripped down the sides of the eggs and English muffin. And those potatoes? Seasoned to perfection and so golden.

“Is the… Is the English muffin homemade?” Castiel shook his head to try and focus.

Dean shook his head. “Charlie's a good baker but no. We get them locally though. A friend, Cassie, owns a bakery down the street.”

Castiel took a quick note. Dean sources his ingredients locally. And then he cut into the dish. And, shit, the egg was poached to perfection. The yolk ran out elegantly. He wasn't sure how else to describe it. He wanted to drink it like water. When he finally put a piece of it in his mouth, he let out a small sigh.

Castiel has had the pleasure of eating at some of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago and across the US because of his job but this… this felt like he got transported to Heaven and was cooked a meal by God himself.

He wished the meal could last forever. Alas, he ate the dish in a mere minute or two.

Dean let out a small laugh. “Hungry?”

“I barely ate today.” Castiel admitted. Maybe that was why it tasted better than anything he'd ever tasted before. But, at the same time, perhaps Dean was just that good of a chef.

Dean's eyes softened with a glint of sadness, sliding over dish number two. “Well, I'm glad you could fill up.” He scratched his eyebrow for a second. “This is, uh, homemade spaghetti with garlic, parsley, bacon bits—because I gotta put bacon in nearly everything—red pepper flakes for some spice. And I tossed it in some tomato sauce.”

Castiel looked at this dish carefully. It had some nice color with some red, green, and yellow and it didn't hurt that the bottom of the bowl wasn't dripping in sauce. Which was nice. However, he wasn't the biggest fan of bacon in pasta dishes.

“Why lightly toss the pasta?” He asked, curious. Surely it wasn't just for aesthetic reasons.

Dean chuckled a little at the question before he leaned against the countertop. “Gives the dish a nice color plus I want to save most of the sauce for other dishes. And I didn't want to overpower the dish. The red sauce I make can be….” He tried to find the right words. “Very flavorful in large amounts.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at that before he swirled his fork in the pasta and took a bite. Well, shit. Those bacon bits worked pretty well in this dish. And he could understand what Dean was saying about the sauce. It was wonderful in this small amount but he wondered what it'd taste like if he had a pitcher that he could drink from.

He scribbled down a few more notes in a frenzy. Mostly just flavors and the composition of the dish.

“And, uh, who do you staff here? Professional chefs like you? Or are you open to anyone?” Castiel asked after a few minutes of other questions.

Dean pursed his lips for a second before his lips broke out into a smile. “I hire friends, mostly. Formal education or not. If I know you're good enough to work for me, then you're good enough.” He explained softly. “Like my best friend Benny, he's my sous, he used to work in New Orleans making lobster rolls and shrimp at little hole-in-the-wall places. Or, uh, Charlie, my pastry chef. She'd always make cakes for my birthday and they were incredible.”

Castiel chuckled softly. That would be a dream, getting to hire all your friends to work for you… Half his coworkers sucked.

“I try to make a positive environment for my chefs. And my waiters. And my stage, Sam.” Dean smiled softly. “I know a lot of kitchens can get heated. I don't want that. My daughter comes into the kitchen a lot to help and I don't want her seeing me throwing a pan at someone.” He quickly added, “I mean, I wouldn't do that to begin with but… I've seen it happen.”

“Don't worry. I get it.” Castiel smiled at Dean, glancing up from the counters to his face. He tilted his head. “You mentioned you had a daughter twice. Once yesterday. Is that why you wanted to do this? Give her something… to have later on?”

Dean licked his lips and shook his head. “My daughter… she pushed me to do this. To have something I could call my own that I didn't have to share with anyone. Sam helped me a lot, sure, but this is my restaurant. I don't have a partner or co-owner. It's… it's mine.” He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand up his face for a second. “I haven't had something like that in a while.”

Castiel nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Dean. He made Castiel think of his own daughter. Maybe he was being too selfish and tried to focus too hard on advancing his career instead of Claire.

She deserved more.

“How… How do you think you did? As a parent?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean let out a soft laugh. “I don't know. Emma would say I'm the best dad ever but I'm not sure. There were times I struggled to pay bills but… but we always ate dinner together.” He loved those times, as much as they sucked.

Emma was such a wonderful child that Dean wasn't sure if that was his nurture or her nature. She always wanted to help in the kitchen. Perhaps it's because he liked it so much and she wanted to know why.

With grease stains on his shirts, oil scars on his hands, and a towel on his shoulder to pick up hot things. All Dean remembered was her smiling face biting into one of his burgers, with one of her front teeth missing. It's like he could see the memory shifting before his eyes. To Emma just a few days ago doing the exact same thing.

Fuck, Dean loved her with all his heart.

———

taglist: @nexus-my-beloved

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clairedelune-13 · 10 months

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“Dean isn’t gay”

True. He likes both coffee and tea.

#dean is bi #dean winchester #dean x lee #dean x cassie #dean x benny #dean x lisa #dean x crowley #dean x castiel

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cringemesstickles · 9 months

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Hi! Can I please request a fic with platonic or romantic lee! Castiel and ler! Dean? WE NEED MORE TICKLISH WINGS IN THE HOUSE!

EEE YESYES ABSOLUTELY! I fully agree- ticklish wings are incredibly underrated :’)

I got you covered tho 😌💅

Angelic Discoveries

Word Count: 591

Pairings: Dean/Castiel (but could also be read as platonic)

A/N: the beginning is so bad I’m sorry 😭

——————————————————————————

“My wings? What about them?” The angel raised a brow, eyeing the eldest Winchester with suspicion.

Dean shrugged casually and threw his hands up in defense.

“Hey, I was just curious! Can't blame a guy for being curious about a literal freakin angel!”

The angel in question thought about it for a moment before sighing.

“Very well then. I will show you my wings, but you must step back first.”

Dean’s face lit up and he did as instructed, taking a couple of steps back and giving the angel some room to spread his wings.

Dean watched with amazement as the angel unfurled his large fluffy wings, each one as majestic and graceful as the other.

The hunter stood in shock for a moment, taking in the breathtaking view in front of him, quickly shaking it off and rushing to curiously inspect the wings.

“Son of a bitch, these are the coolest things I’ve ever seen!”

Cas blushed and smiled bashfully, not entirely used to compliments.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Dean. But perhaps you should be a little more ca- eEK” The angel was cut off by an uncharacteristic squeak, caught off guard by the sudden contact.

Dean pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with concern.

“Woah, Cas, you okay? Did that hurt?”

The angel was quick to shake his head, clearing his throat before responding.

“No, no, I’m quite alright. It just tickled is all.” He spoke nonchalantly as if he wasn’t talking to one of the most mischievous people on the planet.

Dean’s expression switched from concern to disbelief, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No way… your wings are ticklish!? This is too good!”

With an impish grin, he pounced on his friend, carefully digging into the soft feathers, earning a yelp followed by bursts of laughter from the angel.

“Dehehean! Whahahat are you doing?”

The hunter laughed with amusement, taking in the sight of the stoic angel Castiel laughing and smiling like a little kid.

“C'mon, Cas... it doesn’t take an angel to know that I’m tickling you!” he teased, switching to scratching at the ticklish skin that lay beneath the feathers.

Castiel fell back onto the couch, a snort escaping his lips when Dean found an extra sensitive spot near the base of his wings.

“Sorry, Cas. I hope this doesn’t ruffle your feathers..”

Dean joked with a cheeky grin as he continued the playful attack, genuine curiosity mixing with mischief as he poked and prodded at the sensitive appendage, feeling around the curve, all the way to the wingtip, effectively driving the angel crazy as he kicked and squirmed.

“Thihis is incredibly humiliating! Haha!”

He softly fluttered his wings, though he was unsure whether it was to shake off the tickles or simply distract himself.

The eldest Winchester chuckled and grinned playfully.

“Aw, don’t pretend you don’t like it, Cas~”

The angel’s cheeks reddened more.

“I nehehever denied liking ihihit..”

Dean paused with mild disbelief

“Do you want me to keep going?” He asked genuinely, his cheeky demeanor momentarily switching to sincerity.

Castiel averted his eyes in favor of looking at the floor.

“Well... I suppose I wouldn’t mind… if you were to continue, that is.”

That was all Dean needed to hear before he scritched and scratched at the feathered skin, eliciting more bright laughter.

The tickling carried on for a while before finally calming down, leaving the two smiling and breathless.

In the end, Dean Winchester had managed to fluster an angel of the lord, and he was damn proud of it.

#mess writes #destiel #tword content #sfw tickling #ler!dean #lee!castiel #lee!cas #ticklish!castiel #ticklish!cas #tickle community #spn tickle fic #supernatural tickle fic #tickles #tickle fic #anon answered #answered asks

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thewxtchwhowrites · 8 months

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Hi 💖✨

I'm back after a long time of being a silent reader of one-shots and fics (I have some of them that I would love to recommend), and also thanks to those authors for making wonderful works.

Anyway.

That led me to the conclusion of making my own Masterlist of my one-shots and fics, mainly to have more order in my blog and because I really want to write again because I LOVE to write.

🔥 = smut

(ES) = español

(EN) = english

Dean Winchester

Don't Boss me around - 1 & 2

Hold On

Sam Winchester

Positions - Old and New version

Castiel

Lucid Dreaming - One Shot

Bucky Barnes

Bus Stop (EN)

The winner takes it all

Healed (requested)

Loki Laufeyson (soon)

Steven Grant (soon)

Marc Spector (soon)

Eddie Munson

Hit the Pedal, Heavy Metal - 1 & 2

Lee Bodecker (soon)

Charles Blackwood (soon)

Jefferson Hatter (soon)

Graham (soon)

Hook / Killian Jones (soon)

August Booth / Pinocchio (soon)

Nick Fowler

Dangerous Woman

PD: I'll probably re-write some one-shots (improve grammar and even plot, so stay tuned), but don't worry, I won't delete the original.

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lovelywriting666 · 7 months

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Flufftober Masterlist

Day 1: Petnames - Sam Winchester ♥️

Day 2: Headcanons - Castiel 🧡

Day 3: Cuddles - Dan Avidan 💛

Day 4: Date Night - Jared Padalecki 💚

Day 5: Falling Asleep Together-AnothonyPadilla 🩵

Day 6: Nightmare Comfort - Ethan Nestor

Day 7: Reading Together - Brennan Lee Mulligan

Day 8: Late Night - Ted Nevison

Day 9: Marriage Proposal - Sam Winchester

Day 10: Road trip - Platonic! Garrett Watts (Maybe ADHD reader???)

Day 11: Sharing Clothes - Hasan Piker

Day 12: Baking Together - Matpat

Day 13: Love Notes - Jshlatt

Day 14: Scary Movie Night - Kurtswurld96

Day 15: Drawing Each Other - Viktor (Arcane)

Day 16: Picnic Date - Castiel

Day 17: First Kiss Memories - Anthony Padilla

Day 18: Friends to Lovers - Shane Top

Day 19: Arts & Crafts - Damian Hass

Day 20: Shopping - Jerma985

Day 21: Music - Dan Avidan

Day 22: Adopting a pet - Sam Winchester

Day 23: Helping When Sick - Jacksepticeye

Day 24: Patching up wound - Jared Padalecki

Day 25: Hobbies Together - Jinx (Arcane)

Day 26: On a walk - Markiplier

Day 27: Watching a Meteor Shower - Dan Avidan

Day 28: Coffee Date - Misha Collins

Day 29: Self Care Night - Moist Cr1TiKaL

Day 30: Halloween Costumes - Sam Winchester

Day 31: Going Trick or Treating - Sam Winchester

Day 30,31 is like a two parter (:

Made this with my awesome friend @rats-write ♥️

Also theirs a lot of repeats because I don’t write for a lot of people srry! Tomorrow I’ll probably post about 3 to catch up so they’re probably gonna be short but I hope you love them!

(Same props dif peps)

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genekies · 6 months

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I think my favorite lil blorbos are:

Simon Petrikov (Adventure Time)

Prismo (Adventure Time)

Marshall Lee (Adventure Time)

Gabriel (Supernatural)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Castiel (Supernatural)

Garth (Supernatural)

Whizzer (Falsettos)

Stanley Pines (Gravity Falls)

#adventure time #fionna and cake #supernatural #adventure time fiona and cake #whizzer falsettos #falsettos #marshall lee #simon petrikov #whizzer #stan pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #prismo the wishmaster #prismo #gabriel #gabriel the archangel #castiel #dean #dean winchester

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august-anon · 2 years

Text

Pray for Mercy

Tickletober 2022, Day 18: Chase [LATE]

this was actually the first fic i wrote for this year's tickletober, months ago when i first finished the prompt list, before i ever officially posted it lol. i have not reread or edited this! i simply do not have the time or energy unfortunately lol, but hopefully its alright and not too messy!

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Fandom: Supernatural

Ship(s): Destiel

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Dean/Ler!Castiel

Word Count: 2736 words

Summary: Dean should've known there were consequences to tickling an angel. Even one with such a cute, innocent smile like Cas.

[ao3 link]

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Dean raced down the halls of the bunker, skidding around corners and almost slipping every other step thanks to only being in his socks. The bunker was supposed to be safe, after all. Why would he need to wear his big, heavy boots everywhere when he could finally live in comfort? Well, Dean certainly felt like a fool, now.

Had the bunker always been this complex? It felt like a labyrinth, unrecognizable and unending, trapping him no matter what turn he took. He thought he knew the place inside and now by now, explored all the nooks and crannies during the late nights where he couldn’t sleep knowing what horrors were awaiting him behind his eyelids. Apparently, he thought wrong. Or maybe that was just the scratch of fear slithering down his neck seeping into his mind, muddling things that he knew that he knew.

Footsteps echoed around him, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Truthfully, Dean couldn’t be sure if they were even real, or just a figment of his own mind, traitorously adding to his torment. In a blind moment of panic, he threw open a door on his left, whipping around to shut it as quietly as he could.

The room was dim, but it was quiet. In fact, his own heavy breathing sounded deafening against the concrete walls. He was tempted to hold his breath to hide it, not wanting to give away his position, but if he was found, Dean knew that he would need it. He backed slowly into the room, eyes trained on the door as he shuffled his feet, moving slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t bump into anything and alert anyone, or anything, to his current location. As long as he was quiet, he would be safe here. Please, let him be safe here.

There was a quiet ruffle of feathers behind him, and Dean barely had time to register the sound as danger before backing into a solid chest, not having caught himself in time to stop moving. He did, in fact, stop breathing for a moment, though.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Dammit, Cas, you–!”

Dean didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, not that he really knew where he was going with it in the first place. He was quickly silenced – well, not silenced, more hindered – by Cas’s arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace, using the hold to sneak fingers into all the weak points he could reach along Dean’s sides and ribs.

Dean doubled over in his laughter, trying to claw Cas’s hands off his torso with weak and trembling fingers. Even though he knew it wouldn’t work, Dean was still offended when Cas’s hands crept high onto his upper ribs, making his arms slam down in an involuntary defense. He jerked his torso back and forth, trying to loosen Cas’s grip or dislodge him somehow, but Cas followed easily with every twist and turn. Dean wasn’t gonna get out of this so easily.

“Cas– come on!”

“Sorry, Dean, I can’t quite understand you through your laughter. Would you mind repeating that for me?”

Dean did, in fact, mind. Even if he hadn’t said anything worth repeating. So instead, bicep still pressed tightly to his ribs, Dean raised up his hand showing Cas his middle finger as best as he could.

Cas tutted. “Really, Dean, you should know better to antagonize me at this point. Did you really think you could get away with this morning’s antics without recompense?”

Note to self: never play Scrabble with Cas.

“Now, do you regret it, yet?”

Dean shook his head. Hell, no. It had been hilarious. And maybe a little adorable. Not that Dean would admit that to Cas’s face. No, Dean would keep all his thoughts about Cas’s gummy smile and his bright, bubbly laughter all to himself, thank you very much. But he certainly didn’t regret it.

Cas sighed. “You will, eventually.”

And then, surprisingly, Castiel let him go. The torment stopped, his arms unwrapped from Dean’s torso, and he took a few steps back from where they had stood, pressed together from shoulders to hips. Dean wobbled and wavered for a moment, having to readjust to holding his weight up on his own again without Cas to steady him through his remaining giggles. He shot a confused look over his shoulder, but Cas stood there as impassively as ever, appraising Dean with a calculated look.

“You have a fifteen second head start,” Cas rumbled, raking his eyes over Dean’s body, “before round two begins.”

Dean’s eyes practically bugged out of his skull. “What?”

Castiel narrowed his own. “You heard me.”

Dean didn’t need to be prompted a third time. He turned tail and ran, damn his jellied legs and trembling knees to hell, sliding down the halls in his stupid patterned socks once more. He wondered if he had time to sneak into his room and change clothes, because he suddenly felt very bare in the t-shirt and boxers he’d been lounging around in all day with Sam being gone, or if Cas would corner him before he got the chance. Ultimately, Dean decided it wasn’t worth the risk, and he kept running, directionless. He could only hope it took Cas a little longer to find him, this time.

Dean was hardly even aware of the twists and turns he was taking, his only goal being “get as far away from Cas as possible,” so when he blindly whipped around a corner and slammed directly into Cas’s body, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just gone around in a circle at some point. Either way, Cas let out a low, growling chuckle into his ear, this time sliding his hands up under Dean’s shirt in the embrace.

“Goddammit!” Dean spat.

“Now, now,” Cas said, his voice infuriatingly calm for how much Dean was struggling in his arms. “Let’s not bring my Father into this.”

“Asshole!”

Cas sighed. “You Winchesters never learn, do you?”

Dean let out a mortifying little yip as Cas’s fingers started spidering all over his back, jerking forward and only further encasing himself in Cas’s arms. He buried his face in Cas’s neck, not wanting Cas to have the pleasure or reward of seeing his face flush from the embarrassment of his own giggling.

“Tell me, Dean, which tickles more. This?” Cas scribbled and spidered his fingers all along the backs of Dean’s ribs and sides. “Or this?” He scratched his fingers ever-so-lightly up and down Dean’s back, the feel-good tingles warring with the building ticklish feeling into a dangerous combination.

“Both, you fucking– Cas!”

Apparently, answering both meant that Cas would do both, which Dean found entirely unfair. He whined through his giggles, so far past embarrassment (at least, for this round), squirming forward and back in Castiel’s grip like either direction would get him anywhere. And then, just as quickly as he swooped in, Cas vanished from his personal space, leaving Dean wobbling once more. He leaned against the wall for a second, trying to catch his breath through his giggles.

“You have ten seconds,” Cas said.

Dean’s head shot up. “Ten?!”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I am being incredibly generous, giving you these head starts. Are you sure you wanted to waste your time arguing with me?”

A slew of expletives slipped out of Dean’s mouth. He pushed himself off the wall and bolted past Cas, nearly tripping over himself with how shaky his legs were. Dean had been a hunter his entire life, stalked by monster and man alike, but never before had he felt more like prey than this moment. How was Cas finding him so easily, every single time? All he needed was a moment to think.

He did not get that moment. Instead, he skidded to a stop on his stupid socks, almost falling on flat on his ass, as Castiel emerged from one of the doors ahead of him. He glanced over and walked in Dean’s direction, calm and cool and collected, and Dean felt himself get even more frazzled in return. He turned on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction, chanting lose me, lose me in his mind all the while.

Only for Cas to emerge from a different door up ahead in this direction, once again starting a calm walk in Dean’s direction.

Dean felt a wave of indignance go through him, remembering all the things he’d read about humans being endurance hunters. How they would tire out their prey, track them calmly, letting the prey spook and race off, only to be found and repeat the process again. Eventually, the prey would tire out, be too exhausted to keep it up, and that was when the human would strike. Then again, the post Dean had read was about pet owners trying to catch their escaped cats, so who knew what the truth was to that.

Cas may not have been a human, but that just gave him a sharper advantage. As an angel, he couldn’t exactly tire, but Dean, the so-called endurance hunter, could. Cas was one of the only things above humans on the food chain, and Dean was about to become lunch. The endurance hunter becoming the endurance hunted.

God, it was fun. Not that he’d ever admit it, even under pain of death.

Dean whipped around and jogged down another hallway, taking a multitude of twists and turns to try and throw Cas off his trail. Then, because it had worked so well the first time, Dean picked a door and ran inside. He almost locked it, before remembering that it would only be a detriment to himself when he would inevitably have to run away again.

Dean tried to steady his breathing, backing slowly away from the door, before he remembered where that got him last time. He whipped around, eyes scanning the dark room and ears straining for the sounds of ruffling feathers. Don’t find me here, Dean pleaded in his mind. Don’t find me here, don’t even look here.

A quiet, rolling noise caught Dean’s attention, and he whirled around to see the doorknob turning ever-so-slowly. He spat out a quiet curse, glancing around the room for a hiding place and finding none. Ultimately, he decided to back up until his back hit the wall. At least this time, there could be no surprises from behind. The door opened with a creak, and Dean tried to wipe all the giddiness and nerves from his expression. He didn’t need to give Cas the satisfaction.

“Hello again, Dean.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow, walking forward again at that maddeningly slow pace. Dean didn’t see the point in running – the room was too small for him to dart around Cas to escape, and he’d just make a fool of himself in the process – so instead, he pressed himself further into the wall, trying to brace for the coming attack.

But the attack didn’t come, this time. Instead, Cas leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet and languid. Dean tried to keep his composure, but it was only seconds before he melted into it, closing his eyes and humming in contentment. Cas guided Dean’s arms up around his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around Dean’s waist, pushing him even further into the wall as he pressed their bodies together. Just when Dean felt like he couldn’t stand it another moment, his lungs getting the better of him after all the running and the repeated tickle attacks, Cas pulled back and he gasped in a few breaths of air.

“Hi,” Dean murmured, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Cas brushed their noses together. “Hi.”

Cas slid his hands back around so that they were resting lightly on Dean’s stomach and hips. Dean kept his own arms around Cas’s neck for the time being, trying to count the hues of blue in Cas’s eyes.

“Are we done, then?”

Cas quirked both eyebrows this time. “No. I was just trying to lower your guard.”

Dean’s face dropped. “Wha–?”

He cut himself off with a gasp as a light, tingling sensation made itself known in his lower stomach and hips, radiating deep into the nerves. He grunted and shifted, trying to bring his hands down to defend himself, push Cas’s hands away, something, only to find that his arms were trapped around Cas’s neck, and he only succeeded in pulling Cas closer. Fucking angel mojo, tickling him with it and trapping him? That really wasn’t fair.

“You– asshole!”

“Just let go, Dean,” Cas mumbled, leaning forward to nuzzle his stubble into Dean’s neck. “You know you want to.”

Dean let out a choked sound with the added sensation on his neck, smushing his face down against Cas’s to try and push him out. All the while, the tingling beneath Cas’s hands only snuck deeper beneath his skin, growing and building on top of itself until it was almost unbearable, despite how light the feeling was. Against his will, strangled little snickers started bubbling up his throat and spilling from his lips.

“Damn you,” he bit out through it all. “How do you keep finding me so fast?”

Cas cocked his head to the side, the move far more innocent than Cas deserved to pretend to be, like a puppy who ate your lunch and was trying to make you forget all about it. Well Dean would not be forgetting, thank you very much, especially not while the puppy was still actively chewing on his damned sandwich right in front of him.

“Are you aware,” Cas said, “that you have been praying this entire time?”

If Dean could’ve frozen, he would have. Instead he was stuck squirming back and forth as his jaw dropped open, only widening the way for more laughter to escape as the light buzzing radiating out from his core threatened to consume him.

“What?!”

“Praying. Everytime you run, or try to hide, or think you hear me coming, you pray. For mercy, for guidance, for luck. And it seems I must be your default to pray to, because I heard every word, Dean. Every. Word.”

Fucking shit, how much did Dean push into those prayers? How much did Cas hear of his internal monologue? Just how screwed was he?

“You fucking cheat–”

“I don’t recall you establishing any rules. Do you?”

“There was no time–” Dean squealed, cutting himself off, as the tingling buzz swirled down and centered itself solely on his hips.

“Well, that’s your own fault, is it not?”

Oh fucking damn him. Cas played these games too well.

“Don’t worry, Dean. We both know you wouldn’t have wanted rules in the first place.”

“Fuck you.”

Cas retaliated with a raspberry directly in the crook of his neck. Dean’s knees went out, cackling and tearing up with the intensity of it all. Cas pushed into him, pinning him in place against the wall, not letting him have even that escape.

“Are you sorry yet?”

Sorry?? Sorry for what, crying all over his trench coat?

“For attacking me this morning?”

“Yes,” Dean cried out. “Yes! I’m sorry!”

Cas had mercy. He lifted his face out of the crook of Dean’s neck and pulled away his hands, sucking out the vibrations of his grace along with them. A moment later, the invisible bonds on Dean’s wrists and hands vanished and he was able to pull them back towards his body, rubbing away the ghostly feeling the grace tickles left behind.

“You have another ten seconds before round four begins.”

Dean blinked. “But– I said sorry!”

Cas stared at him, his gaze steady and calm. “I don’t believe you truly want this game to end.”

Dean didn’t know how to reply to that. He certainly would not be telling Cas that he was right.

“And since you seem so inclined to waste your headstarts, why don’t we make it five seconds, instead?” Cas smirked. “I suggest you run now, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t stupid enough to earn himself another penality, so he shoved Cas off him and he ran, a grin tugging at his sore cheeks all the while. He wondered what would be waiting for him at the end of the chase this round. He couldn’t wait to find out.

But that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy on Cas.

#augtickletober2022 #tickletober #tickletober 2022 #tickle fic #my writing #supernatural tickling #lee!dean #ler!castiel #ticklish!dean #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #destiel

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