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jayus-fandom-writer · 3 years

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Ocean Blue

A Destiel fanfic

Day 1 fanfic for @starrynightdeancas‘s 2k followers celebration :D

the link to that post can be found here

Day 1 prompt: Beach

Warnings: For this fluffy fluff written by an asexual romantic for romantic asexuals??? Absolutely none unless you’re smothered by this fluff :)

Dean breathed in deeply, the sharp smell of the gulf filling his entire body. He loves the ocean. Though I could do without the sand stuck everywhere he thought to himself, wiping the sand off the impala’s hood. He leaned against the beloved car and looked out over the coast again. He’d been to the ocean many a time of course, multiple times a year the brothers would get a small case near the shore and Dean would excitedly bring it up to Sam. Sam this time had wanted to finish up something for Bobby and decided to come up a day later. So so far the experience was just him, Jack, and Cas. Cas.... Dean looks over at the angel ordering burgers for all of them. He smiles as he remembers when they first met. And Dean had friggin STABBED HIM. Jack, who had been looking down at his phone moments ago, looks up at Dean and remarks,

“Dean what’re you so happy about?” Dean glances over.

“Nothing, just wondering what kind of trouble Sammy is getting into.” Jack looks Dean straight in the eyes, knowing he’s lying. But he decides not to confront him about it, and goes back to trying out Snapchat filters. Dean looks back out at the ocean. It’s just so beautiful. And blue. Like the blue eyes of someone else he knows. Dean’s mind turns back to Cas once again. He knows he wants Cas. He’s known for years. But is that what Cas wanted too? Dean shifts his feet around as his mind drifts further into its fantasy. He could just imagine their first kiss. He would hold Cas in his arms, looking into his beautiful sea eyes, and then he’s kiss him until his mouth was hurting, and then he’d continue and-

“Dean?” Dean suddenly has his thoughts broken. Cas is smiling at him, holding out a take-out bag from the burger stand. “I got you your burger, fries, and beer but from the way you were zoned out I don’t think you really need that beer...” He smiles and Dean feels his own face grin uncontrollably. He just laughs lightly. “No it’s fine I’m just-”

Jack cuts in, “He’s thinking about Sam again. I think he’s worried about how he’s doing since he’s not there.” Dean makes a face at Jack. “No, I’m not worried about him, Sam will be fine. Actually,” Dean pauses, looking at his watch, “He should be here in a few hours. You guys want to take a walk?” Jack nods eagerly and Cas voices his agreement. So after Dean finishes his burger which, in case you were wondering, was under 3 minutes later, the three set off on a walk down the beach. Jack tried walking next to Cas and Dean but then decided that was no fun and went running to the water’s edge, running as far as he could into it before Cas called him back. Dean looked at Cas, and his soft brown hair waving gently in the breeze. Cas turns to look at Dean, his eyes dancing with the reflection of the setting sun.

“Hello Dean.” Cas says in his rough and low voice. He’s trying to sound serious but his smile ruins the effect. “Whats on your mind? You’ve been so quiet? What’s wrong?” Dean shakes his head.

“No cas, nothings the matter. everything is perfect.” Well, almost perfect. The two walk along in silence again for a while, watching Jack playing in the waves. No one would guess that the kid yelling at waves hit his clothes and dashing after schools of fish was God. He just looked like any little kid. Dean realised that his hand was brushing against Cas’s as they were standing watching Jack. He looked over at Cas to find that he was looking back at Dean. Cas looks down at their hands and laughs, entangling his fingers with Deans. Dean smiles back, unsure on what he should do. Cas simply keeps his hand in Deans as he watches Jack again.

“Dean?”

Dean feels his pulse quicken. “Yeah Cas? Whats up?”

Cas looks at Dean again, trying to keep a straight face. Dean can tell he was holding in a grin however.

“Which is bluer? My eyes, the ocean, or the sky?”

Dean laughs slightly. “That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard. Well, almost.” But Cas keeps looking at him, obviously waiting for a reply. Dean looks up at the sky, the crashing waves, and then deep into Cas’s eyes. He pulls Cas around slightly, facing him. He takes a deep breath and steps slightly closer to Cas. “Cas...” He says slowly, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Cas looks up at Dean, not saying anything. Sill smiling lightly. “Know what? Fuck this.” Dean drops Cas’s hand and reaches up to his face, holding his neck gently. He presses his lips to Cas’s, tasting how sweet they are. He holds Cas for a second just like that, as he feels Cas’s hands settling on his back, Cas pushing against Dean slightly.

“Finally! I win my bet with Sam!” Dean and Cas break apart suddenly. Jack is jogging up to them, a big grin on his face. Dean feels his face turning pink. Did he just kiss Cas in front of Jack? He knows he’ll never live such a thing down. Jack goes on as Cas holds Dean’s hand lightly again, smiling at him. “You see, Sam bet that you too would kiss within an hour of being alone, I said it’d be less than that, and so see what we did was-” Dean looks at Cas’s smiling face as Cas listens to Jacks eager rambling.

Dean loves the blue ocean. He never thought anything would replace that love. But now when he looks into Cas’s eyes with their foreheads pressed together, there couldn’t be anything more beautiful.

(also just a sidenote completely unrelated to the fanfic, I finally fixed my writing fonts so now they look official and I’m way too proud of figuring that out and now i shall be overusing them :)

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expectingtofly · 3 years

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Sign Here

AU-Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Dean is a UPS Driver, Cas and Dean are idiots, Gabe is trying to help

4k (oops this fic got long)

also posted on ao3

written for Day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 2k Followers Celebration <3 <3

Castiel knelt on the grass to pull up some stubborn weeds in the garden lining the front of his newly-bought house. The previous inhabitants had left behind a tangled mess of rose bushes and weeds, and after a week of unpacking boxes, he was happy to finally have time to spend outside. One of the perks of moving from an apartment to a small bungalow—finally space for a garden. Although, he was sure the inside of his house would soon become just as packed with plants as his apartment had been.

Engrossed as he was in weeding and planning what flowers he would plant to expand the garden, he didn’t hear someone approach until a shadow fell over the dirt.

Startling, he looked up to see a man standing on the walkway next to him. “What—oh.” By the man’s clothes—brown collared shirt and shorts—and the package he was holding, Castiel realized he was a UPS delivery driver. “Hello.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the driver said, fighting back a smile.

Castiel stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “It’s alright.”

The man held out a package. “I was gonna deliver this to your front door, unless you want to take it now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking it, Castiel looked down at the label, trying to remember what he had ordered. Something for his kitchen, probably.

“Did you just move in?” the UPS driver asked. His eyes were very green, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Freckles everywhere, Castiel realized, seeing the way they lightly spotted his bare arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Realizing he was staring, Castiel reddened, glanced down at the package in his hands. “Uh, yes, I did. Last week.”

“Welcome to Bloomfield, then.” He nodded at the rose bushes. “Nice garden you got here.”

“You don’t have to lie, it’s a mess.” The driver laughed and Castiel smiled a little. “It’s not much now. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it up soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, see how things develop.” The man took a step back and gestured to the UPS truck on the street. “I’ve got other packages to deliver. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Castiel said, watching him leave. Kneeling down to continue yanking out the prickly weeds, he smiled. It was nice to meet someone friendly; he hadn’t gotten to meet many people yet with the chaos of moving in. Of course, he thought, glancing back at the UPS truck as it rumbled down the street, it didn’t hurt that the driver was extremely attractive as well.

***

The next week, Castiel was hanging up art prints in his living room when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was for a package he’d ordered, he took his time getting to the door, straightening the print on the wall before weaving through the cardboard boxes he still hadn’t unpacked.

When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to see the green-eyed UPS driver standing on his porch holding the package.

The man’s face brightened. “Hi. Got a delivery for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I thought you delivery drivers just dropped off the package and disappeared.”

The UPS driver laughed. Such a nice laugh, Castiel thought. “Right, yeah, that’s what we normally do. But, uh, we have a new policy. Have to get a signature for packages.” He handed over a clipboard and pen, pointing to the line at the bottom of the page. "Just sign here."

“Oh. Alright.” Castiel took the clipboard and signed his name. When he handed it back, he saw the man glance at the signature. “Castiel,” he supplied.

“Cool name. I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Having been occupied all week with moving in and subsequently starved for conversation, he added, “You’re one of the first people I’ve met so far. The other being a cashier at that grocery store down the street.”

“Still getting settled in?”

“Yes. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I hate unpacking. It never seems to end.”

“Yeah, moving’s a bitch. You liking the place so far, though?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. Much improved from the apartment where I was living before.”

“God, I bet. I share an apartment with my brother—don’t get me wrong, I like living with him, but our landlord’s an asshole.” He gestured to the right. “Garden’s looking great.”

“Thank you. I just bought petunias, but I haven’t had a chance to plant them.” He pointed at the small brown box Dean was still holding. “That should be new gardening gloves in there.”

“Oh, right, your package.” Dean’s face looked a little red as he handed the box over. “Um, well, I should be on my way. See ya.” He stepped off the porch with a wave and Castiel waved back before going inside.

As he unpacked his belongings, he realized filling a house was harder than he’d thought. There were so many household items he was missing. Perhaps a trip to the store would be faster, but ordering online was easier—or so he told himself as he opened his laptop.

I’m only trying to save myself time, he reasoned, though inwardly he might have been hoping Dean would deliver the package.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he found himself growing more impatient over the next few days. Then, one afternoon as he organized his silverware drawer, he heard the doorbell ring. He practically ran to the front door, then paused and steadied himself before opening it, waiting a few seconds so it wouldn’t seem like he’d rushed over.

It might not even be Dean, he chastised himself as he unlocked the door.

Dean smiled at him when he swung the door wide.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to sound casual and hide his smile.

“Hi.” He looked to be about Castiel’s age. What were the chances that someone this attractive was single? “Got another package. A heavy one this time.”

Pushing away those thoughts, Castiel took it from him and placed it inside on the floor. “Thank you. Don’t I have to sign something?”

“Uh, shit, yeah.” Dean handed over the clipboard and pen, and as Castiel signed, he nodded at the package. “Something else for the garden?”

Castiel shook his head, handing back the clipboard. “A mixer. I thought maybe I could try my hand at baking. My mom sent me a few of her recipes.”

Dean’s eyes brightened. “You ever want inspiration, there’s a diner, other side of town, a few blocks from where I live, that makes the best pie. Makes them fresh every morning.”

“I’ll have to go sometime.” He stopped short of saying that maybe he’d see Dean there, not wanting to sound too excited at the prospect.

Maybe I should order more things for the kitchen, he thought, shutting the door after saying goodbye to Dean. Or a new bath mat, and curtains, maybe. The boxes he had yet to unpack scolded him by their presence, but he ignored them. If receiving new items meant talking to a friendly face, who could blame him?

***

“You sure get a lot of packages,” Dean remarked the next week when Castiel opened the door.

Castiel reddened. “Turns out it’s hard to fill a whole house.”

“I’m not complaining, you’re the one giving me a job to do.” Dean handed over the package. “What’s it this week?”

“A watering can.”

“You really like to garden, don’t you?” Dean gestured to the flowers and plants lining the front of the house. “I mean, you’ve added a lot since moving in.”

“Yes, well, I find it’s a wonderful way to wind down after work.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. Any spare time I have, I work on my car.”

Castiel glanced at the UPS truck, because he hadn’t really considered Dean driving anything else. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of running into Dean somewhere else, at the diner, at the grocery store. He wondered how Dean dressed when he wasn’t in his uniform, what else he did in his free time.

Dean followed his gaze to the street and gestured to the UPS truck. “This thing, it’s crap. No AC, no radio. What do you drive?” He glanced at Castiel’s driveway. “That a Lincoln Continental? 78? 77?”

Castiel caught the derisive tone in his voice. “78. And I like it,” he added defensively.

Dean smiled, raising his hands. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. You ever need work done on it, let me know, I can help.” His eyes widened a little at his own words. “I mean, you don’t need to, I just meant, if you want. I’m good at that stuff.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the offer.” Inwardly, he cursed his car for being so reliable. Maybe the engine light would turn on and he could take him up on his offer. Or maybe Dean was only being friendly and didn’t really mean it.

When Dean headed back to his truck and Castiel shut the door, he realized Dean hadn’t asked him to sign anything. Maybe he’d only forgotten.

***

“Gotten acquainted with the locals?” Gabriel asked a few nights later when he called to see how Castiel was settling in.

“I talked with one of my neighbors yesterday. Arla. She’s eighty-two and owns three cats.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Castiel glanced at the mixer. “And, uh, I did meet someone else. Someone my age, not a neighbor. Dean.”

“Met someone? Like went on a date with—”

“No, he works for the UPS, he’s been delivering my packages.” He was interrupted by Gabriel laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“So instead of going out and meeting real people, you’re making friends with the delivery guy.”

“Dean is real,” Castiel protested. “He’s very kind and friendly. And helpful. He’s told me about places to check out in town and complimented my garden—”

“Damn, Cas, sounds like you really like this guy.”

“No, he’s just a nice person,” Castiel insisted. By Gabriel’s laughter, he knew he wasn’t being believable. “Alright, fine. I enjoy talking to him.” He wasn’t going to tell Gabriel that seeing Dean was becoming his favorite part of the week.

“He single?”

“Um. Yes.” He may or may not have asked Arla if she knew Dean, and may or may not have learned that she couldn’t believe “a charming young man like him is still single.” Oh, and that if she were a younger woman, she would be ordering packages left and right to flirt with him when he delivered. Castiel did not appreciate that last part, even if Arla had no idea how close to the truth she’d struck. I’m not flirting, he argued inwardly.

“Well, are you going to make a move or not?” When Castiel didn’t respond right away, Gabriel added, “Right, I forgot who I’m talking to.”

“I might,” Castiel protested. “But we only just met. And I don’t even know if he likes me. He’s only doing his job.”

“May as well ask him out, see what he says.”

Castiel sighed. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I only just moved here.”

“Well, you snooze, you lose, Cas. Don’t miss out on something just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

I’m not scared, he repeated to himself when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He was being reasonable. But maybe Gabriel was right. Dean had to be somewhat interested—delivery guys didn’t just stick around to talk after delivering a package. Maybe he’d test the waters, try to see if Dean was truly interested or just being friendly.

***

A few days later, he was watering his petunias when Dean got out of his truck with another package.

“Hey, Cas!” he called.

“Hello, Dean.” Setting down his water can, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thank you,” he said, taking the narrow box from Dean. Before he lost his courage, he spoke up, “I, um, made a pie this morning.” Whether he’d made it specifically to offer to Dean was something he’d never admit to anyone, much less himself. “I was wondering if you wanted a slice? You can tell me if it’s good or not.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Shit, Cas, really? Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab it.”

When he returned to the doorway with a paper plate covered in foil, he caught Dean looking inside his house.

“It’s still a mess in here,” Castiel said, handing the plate over. “I’ve been kinda busy with work.”

“No, yeah, totally, no judgement.” He peeled back the foil and inhaled. “Fuck, I’m starving. This looks amazing.” Picking up the slice, he took a bite. “Mmm,” he said, rolling his eyes back.

“Good?” Castiel asked, amused.

“So good,” Dean said, his voice muffled. He swallowed. “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you. I have more, if you’d like it.”

“Don’t tempt me. Yes.”

Grinning, Castiel went back inside and packaged up two more slices, brought them to Dean.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said. “Seriously.” He juggled the plates in his hands. “So, where do you work?”

Castiel leaned on the doorway. “I work here. I’m an editor. I do freelance work.”

“Dude, that’s cool. Nice that you get to work from home.” Looking down at his watch, he swore quietly. “Sorry, I need to keep moving. I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, disappointed, straightening. “Alright. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, this was a nice break.” He stepped off the walkway. “Thanks for the pie.”

“You’re welcome.” Ask him for his number. Ask him if he would like to go out. But he kept quiet and watched Dean cross the yard back to his truck.

***

That night, Castiel ordered a set of bookends shaped like trees. He checked his email the next few days, tracking the package. On the day it was to be delivered, he had to run errands and got stuck in traffic. When he pulled into his driveway, he saw a package sitting on the front porch. Shit. He’d missed Dean.

Grabbing his bag of groceries, he walked over and picked up the package with his free hand. Then he noticed a note taped to the top.

Sorry I missed you, it read. The pie was incredible.

Castiel smiled.

***

Sunlight streamed through his living room windows as Castiel organized his books on his bookshelves. He was just pushing his new bookends into place when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he went to the front door and looked out through the window. Dean?

“Hello, Dean,” he said, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting a package today.”

“Oh, really?” Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile as he turned around the cardboard box in his hands. Bold black letters were written across the front: SAY HI TO DEAN FOR ME.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snatched the box out of Dean’s hands. “What? I don’t know how—” He scanned the box for the label. Gabriel, he realized. “It’s my brother,” he explained. “I was telling him about you, he must’ve sent me this to embarrass me, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s smile won out. “No, it’s fine, that’s kinda hilarious.” He shifted his stance, the wooden porch boards creaking. “You, uh, you told him about me?”

Castiel’s head snapped up from glaring at Gabe’s name on the return label. “Um, yes,” he faltered. “Well, I was just telling him that I met someone, and it’s been nice to, uh, uh, have a friend.”

Friend? He hardly knew Dean, for fuck’s sake. For all he knew, he was just a random person Dean spoke to occasionally on his route, no more important than Arla or any of the other people he delivered to.

But Dean smiled. “Yeah, uh, me too. I mean, I like meeting people on my route, just makes the day a lot better when I get to stop and talk.” He reddened a little and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his boots.

“I hope I don’t keep you from your other deliveries,” Castiel said.

Dean waved his hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I get the other ones done fast so I can spend more time here.” He cut himself off and reddened even further, as if realizing what he was admitting.

So, Dean was deliberately trying to see him, talk to him. Castiel felt his face heat up as well. “I’m sure delivering packages all day can be very boring,” he offered.

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, ya know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure this neighborhood’s newest resident is doing okay.” He grinned. “Think of me as the welcome committee.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean nodded again, and they stood there awkwardly for a few long moments. Castiel glanced back down at the box, Gabe’s words ringing in his head. Ask him out, see what he says.

“I’ll get on my way,” Dean said, stepping back. He smiled a little. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“I will.” Maybe he should just blurt it out. Dean had said he enjoyed stopping by here. But maybe he only meant that in a friendly way. Castiel had called him a friend, after all. He chickened out. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Dean walked away and Castiel glared down at the box.

“Not helpful,” he told it.

***

“Gabe, I hate you.”

“What? I was just trying to spark conversation between you two—”

“I hate you. I can hold a conversation well enough myself, thank you very much. You only made things awkward.” He paused before adding, “Dean says hi, by the way.”

Gabriel cheered and Castiel pulled his phone away from his ear. “So it worked? You asked him out?”

“Um...” Castiel pulled at a rip on his gardening jeans. “No.”

“Cassie!” Gabriel whined. “I did all that work for nothing? What’s the holdup? Ask him out.”

Castiel groaned. “I will. Eventually. But, I mean, can he even say yes? He’s on the job—”

“Cas, he’s already taking time out of his workday to talk to you. Pretty sure he’ll say yes, even if he’s working. Stop making excuses.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” He only said it to get Gabriel off his back, but his palms grew sweaty even thinking about it.

“You better. Keep me updated.”

“Only if you never pull a prank like that again.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

***

Seated at his desk, Castiel frowned at an awkwardly worded sentence that refused to form itself into any coherency. Was the past tense of lie lay or laid? Why couldn’t he ever remember?

The doorbell ringing drew his attention and, grateful for the break, he saved the document he was editing and got up. Going to the front door, he wondered if he had any left-over pie to give Dean and drag out their time together in the doorway.

Opening the door, he began to say hello, then paused. A UPS delivery man was walking away to his truck, a package at Castiel’s feet on his front porch.

“Wait!” Castiel called, stepping outside. The man turned—not Dean. Someone he’d never seen before. “Who the hell are you?”

The man looked startled. “I, uh, I’m a delivery—”

“No, sorry.” Castiel flushed. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean?” The man frowned. “I don’t know who that is. We all got new routes a few days ago. He must be on another route now.”

Castiel’s heart sank. “Oh.” Another route? He looked down at the package. “Don’t I have to sign something?”

“No, you’re all good. We don’t require signatures.” The man continued to his truck and Castiel picked up the package. A lattice pastry roller to make more intricate pie crusts. He’d thought Dean might appreciate the effort.

Shutting the door, he stood in the foyer for a moment. So, Dean was gone. Why hadn’t he ever asked for Dean’s number? He’d had plenty of opportunities.

It’s a small town, he reasoned. I’ll see him again, I have to. He knew Dean lived on the other side of town, maybe if he drove around there, kept an eye out—

Alright, stop, he told himself. He was starting to sound crazy. He dropped the package off on the kitchen table. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

The next day, Castiel was seated at his desk, sending an email to a client, when the doorbell rang.

His pulse sped up, and instinctively he rose from his chair. Then he remembered that Dean didn’t deliver to his house anymore. Sighing, he sat back down.

He’d been trying not to think of it, but every other item in his house—the mixer, the bookends, the pastry roller—only reminded him of Dean and brought down his mood.

Why didn’t I take Gabe’s advice? he bemoaned inwardly. That was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it looked like Gabe had been right. He’d lost his chance.

Staring at his computer screen, he tried to focus on his work, but the distraction had ruined his focus. At least I’ll save money, he reasoned ruefully, now that he had no excuse for making random purchases.

The doorbell rang again and he lifted his head, frowning. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was Arla, coming over to say hello.

Rising, he went to the front door and tried to remember the name of that diner Dean had told him about. Maybe he’d stake out there on a weekend, see if Dean showed up. Or was that creepy?

Definitely creepy, he decided with a sigh, opening the door. Then he froze.

“Dean?”

Standing on his front porch—this time in jeans and a black t-shirt, holding a potted fern—was Dean. He smiled hesitantly, almost nervously. “Hi, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?” Castiel looked at the street, but of course the familiar UPS truck wasn’t there. In its place was a sleek, black car.

“My route changed and I, uh, never got to say bye. So I thought I’d just come over. Sorry if that’s weird—”

“No, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised. I thought I’d never…”

Dean grinned. “Scared you’d lost me forever?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted.

“I, um, I brought you this.” He held out the plant, laughed nervously. “I felt weird coming over without anything to deliver.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” Taking the plant, he stroked the leaves. “I know exactly where to put it.” His heart pounded as he realized now was his chance. He had to take it.

He started to ask for Dean’s number, but Dean started talking too, and they both stopped, laughing. “You first,” Castiel said.

“Um, well.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was thinking, would you maybe want to hang out somewhere other than your doorway? I can show you around town.” He gestured to his car. “Take you for a spin in Baby.”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I would love that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to ask you out, or ask for your number. I just never worked up the courage.”

Dean grinned. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Castiel laughed. “No. Not at all. You’re quite the opposite.” He gestured inside. “Would you, uh, would you like to come inside?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Castiel started to open the door wider, then paused. “I have a question. You never did need my signature, did you? For the packages?”

Dean frowned, then realization seemed to hit him and his face reddened. “Yeah, uh. No. But I figured it was a surefire way to get your name and talk to you.”

“Is that a trick you use often?”

“Nope, you were the first.” He grinned, eyes suddenly teasing. "Did you really need everything you were ordering, or were all the packages just an excuse to see me?"

Now was Castiel's time to blush. "I did need what I ordered!" he protested. "Well, some things. But mainly... I just wanted to talk to you."

“Well, it worked.”

“Yes.” He stepped back for Dean to come inside his home and smiled at him. “And I’m very glad it did."

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @darksongfire @lykanyouko

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#dailydestieldelights #congrats sophie on 2k!#thanks for organizing this lil challenge #ive had this wip for ages now #and im happy i finally got the push to finish it #AU #cas and dean need to use their words #meet cute #fluff #cas likes to garden #gabe is an annoying brother #expectingtofly writes

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

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“for day 1: beach of @starrynightdeancas 2k follower celebration! sophie, you are SO deserving and this was such a cute idea!

************ Dean thought that everything was going well.

Cas had adapted fairly well to being human in their post-Chuck world, although he had developed a handful of new human quirks. He slept like the dead, liked all of his food really spicy, and developed an unusual affinity for flat white coffees.

(He was also a great person to cuddle with, and it led Dean to wonder why he’d continued to sleep alone all these years.)

But, once again, everything was going well.

That is, until Dean walked into the bunker’s kitchen while Cas was doing dishes and discovered him dancing and lip-synching along to a goddamn Beach Boys song. That’s right, the sixties’ “rock” group (although Dean wouldn’t refer to them as rock, not even at gunpoint). The dulcet tones of the song Kokomo echoed through the kitchen.

Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take you to Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go Oh I want to take you down to Kokomo, we'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow That's where we want to go, way down in Kokomo

Dean shook his head and left the kitchen, unseen, and that was that.

Until the next week, when Cas was washing his truck outside and Dean went to bring him a beer and discovered Cas was listening to Jimmy freaking Buffet.

“You know this isn’t really music,” Dean said, using his bottle to pop the cap off of Cas’.

“Why not?” Cas dried his hands on his shorts (which were...distracting, to say the least) and took the proffered beer.

“I--it just isn’t. I mean, Jimmy Buffet? He’s some fish-loving guy that wrote a song named Margaritaville? And he’s from Florida.”

“Actually, he’s from Mississippi.” Cas took a swig of the beer. “And I like his music.”

Apparently this was a lost cause.

(Dean would never tell Cas, but after enough of hearing songs like Wouldn’t it Be Nice, Surfin’ USA, Good Vibrations, Mañana, and Cheeseburger in Paradise, he finally admitted that maybe Cas’ teeny-bopping beach-pop wasn’t so bad.)

(Although he would never play it in the Impala.)

#dailydestieldelights #destiel #this is probably NOT what you meant by 'beach' but I couldn't help myself lmao #also had to shout out my boy jimmy buffet seeing as we're both from the great state of mississippi #offbeatwrites

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cassiecasyl · 3 years

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don’t bother looking down (we’re not going that way)

My fic for Day 1 of @starrynightdeancas‘s 2k follower celebration! Congrats, Sophie!!!! <3

prompts: 2k follower celebration Day 1: Beach + Suptober 2020 Day 17 “Autumn Invading” ship: destiel read on ao3

Cold wind swirled through the trees’s crowns, ruffling their hair and taking some leaves. They rose in momentary cheer, dancing and spinning through the air, but eventually, they all fell down. Soon enough, grey feathers joined them on the dancefloor, adding a contrast to chaos of mostly red and orange.

Castiel rustled his wings to get more into the mix, hoping the wonder of their play would spark some emotion. A sad smile adorned his features, slowly dying. He didn’t feel it. Ever since he regained his grace, he missed those little things that made him him. It was numbed to humanity, trapped under the freezing power of his mojo.

A feather took a red leaf as its partner and they circled each other as they danced, always reaching out yet never quite touching. It would be heart-breaking to watch, if Castiel still needed his empty vessel’s heart. The plume was the first to fall, ashes from a fire, never to be the same again. The angel felt a tinge in his heart, still humanly beating. The leaf rose once more in an angry outcry before crumbling to the floor.

Castiel looked away, out onto the water that was nibbling at the little sliver of sand that’s barely a beach anymore. He had neglected to realize that this strange melancholy was a feeling in of itself, something to lead him home. His smile awoke a little.

Dean had taken the case in the nearby town because of its proximity to the coastline. They’d never been at the beach, he said in rare excitement. It was almost addicting to see Dean this happy. He deserved it. Cas looked up as the sun waved its goodbye in the background, painting the sky in blazing colors. He smiled as his eyes found a hunch of green in it. Dean.

The sun’s rays screamed wordlessly like the arms overblown by the most peculiar soul he’s ever encountered, and Castiel laced his fingers into theirs, pulling them away from hellfire, holding them tightly as they fled and flew, and he was filled with something new. The angel had screamed it out, the warmth too grand to be kept inside.

Dean Winchester is saved. The words still rang on his tongue after all these years. It was the one thing he would never regret. The warmth it had spawned within him melted the effects of his icy grace, burning him with something that was so inherently human. His eyes could’ve spilled warm sparks rather than light blue ones as the first stars greeted him.

Dean. The human to break through heavenly control and wreck his already cracked reputation. Dean. The righteous man filled with so much love, but it came out in anger, guilt, rejected sadness. Dean. Happiness crawled up Cas’s cheeks, an uncommon sight. Dean, he thought, unspoken words heavy on his tongue.

I love you.

Crash.

At the same time as the waves attacked a nearby bolder, a branch cracked behind him. Castiel turned around, muscles tense and blade ready to drop if needed. His eyes darkened as he checked the nearby trees. Only when he recognized a familiar silhouette did he relax.

“Cas?” Dean asked, stepping closer. “What are you doing here?”

Cas shrugged and gazed back at the sea. “Watching the sunset,” he replied. The sky’s last flames caught in Dean’s eyes, and the angel couldn’t help but stare and admire how much more beautiful the firmament would be if it were green instead of blue.

“You just up and disappeared, man.” A nervous chuckle failed at concealing his concern. “I was worried,” Dean admitted.

“I…,” Cas started, “I just needed some time to think.”

Dean measured him in a glare that only softened as their eyes met. “Are you alright?”

Cas returned his stare and considered his answer. The sun had risen again in front of him, and he bathed in his warmth, letting hesitant emotion be his guiding light. Wanting to take it all in, he stepped closer, almost reaching out to touch him - Cas, we’ve talked about this - and Dean remained still throughout all of it. Then, in a heartbeat, he looked down, the lively green suddenly hidden. The fire latched out at him, burning and scorching the angel with unbelievably human wounds.

“I’m okay,” he confirmed, ignoring the way Dean had left countless scars all over him. Here, standing next to the human who was his downfall, he felt complete. I love you.

“Good,” Dean answered with a lopsided grin and took off his shoes. Castiel questioned him by tilting his head. “Because now that we’re here, we’re not gonna leave without feeling the sand between our toes. Come on!” He ran the short distance to what was more of a sorry excuse for a beach and Cas followed, entranced.

They buried their feet in the sand, leaving Castiel to wonder. The tiny rocks scraped at his skin, carrying dead cells away to their graves. Maybe, they’d begin a journey through the wide sea now that they were done serving his vessel.

Next to him, Dean bowed down towards the water only to be surprised by an oncoming wave. He almost jumped away but was caught by the sand. Cas raised his eyebrows. “Cold?” he teased. Dean retaliated by splashing water his way.

“Icy.”

Cas slowly let his hand wander to Dean, who was shivering, hoping to provide some warmth. “We should go back,” he said. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Dean shook his head without looking at him. “I’ve got you. Let’s stay just a little longer.” He pleaded with a hopeful smile and Cas knew he was smitten.

They sat under the stars, looking up at heroes, beasts and lovers long gone, but none of them were quite as star-crossed as they were. Cas carefully wrapped his arm around Dean, followed by his wings. Grace sparked on his fingertips, swirling out into the air to keep his love warm. For a while, all was well.

Then, Dean shook Cas’s arm off his shoulder and it followed gravity, hanging down uselessly. Cold hurt washed off into numbness and Cas glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eyes. He was looking down, slightly shaking his head, forcefully leaning away from him. Castiel looked the opposite way as a flaming dagger twisted in his heart. He was back to being a star orbiting its sun, never quite sure whether it returned the favor, but doomed to one day collide. Whether it would leave them in dust or together as one, it was the way they were bound to take.

tag list (let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)

@aniridescentdreamer @gnbrules @nightmare-in-plaid @luciferstempest

#destiel #dailydestieldelights #it's not much beach but i tried #deancas #fanfiction #my fic #suptober20

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wheelsupin-five-inactive · 3 years

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Honey

This was written for @starrynightdeancas‘ 2k celebration (congrats!!), based off the prompt “wings”

Summary: When using a human vessel, Cas' moulting wings get uncomfortable, but Dean does what he can to ease the discomfort. Read on ao3

Dean sat propped up against the headboard, watching Cas’ back as he started to undress. It was one of the small routines that had bled into their daily lives. This definitely wasn’t the first time he’d seen Cas change, and he was confident in thinking it wouldn’t be the last either, but there was something in the way he shed the layers of the day that Dean would never tire of.

The trench coat came off first, hung on the back of the door, then the suit jacket, put neatly over the back of the chair behind the door. Cas met his eye as he took off his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. Dean broke contact, eyes lazily following Cas’ hands as they exposed more and more tan skin. He met Cas’ eyes again and winked.

“What’s that phrase again?” Cas asked, pausing his movements. “Oh. Take a picture, it will last longer.”

“What’s the point of that when I have the real thing right here, every night?” Dean asked, patting the space next to him. Cas folded his shirt and placed it over his jacket, his slacks soon following.

“You know you don’t have to, Dean.” His voice was soft and forgiving. It said ‘I know you don’t like doing this. I know you have better things to be doing’, but he didn't know. Dean found comfort in knowing that even without the ability to heal him with a single touch or click of the fingers, he was able to make Cas more comfortable.

“But have you considered I want to?” Dean grabbed the honey moisturiser from his bedside table. He had brought it especially for him. It was the good shit too, manuka honey.

Cas tilted his head when he saw it, eyebrows furrowed as he tugged on his bumblebee pajama pants. “I know it’s gross, you don’t have to pretend.”

“Stop actin’ like you can read my mind Cas, you’re doing a pretty shit job at it.”

Cas rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed anyway, giving Dean a clear view of his back as he moved in behind him. The skin around his shoulder blades definitely looked worse than it had that morning, red, raw, and peeling; it always got worse before it got better. It was still the early days.

He could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for Cas.

Turns out that’s how an angel’s moulting wings present themselves in a human vessel. Cas tried hard to hide it from him too, but like all secrets, it eventually came to light. The first time he’d seen it, his skin was cracked and bleeding. Sometimes it still got bad, but Cas assured him that doing this helped.

“Gimme your hand,” Dean said, popping the cap of the moisturiser. He put some on Cas’ hand, waiting for him to rub it in, smiling at the little happy hum he made. He was always beautiful but at times like this he was gorgeous.

He spread a generous amount of it between his palms before smoothing it over Cas’ back, his skin hot under his touch. Cas leaned into him, a small sigh escaping his lips. Dean carefully massaged it into his shoulders and back, paying special attention to the dry skin around the edges, the tension slowly leaving his body.

They fell into a steady rhythm, the inaudible mumble of enochian that left Cas’ lips keeping Dean out of his head and grounded. He lost track of time, relishing in Cas’ gentle voice and the way he felt beneath him, so relaxed and pliable. Eventually, Dean’s hands came to a stop, running down over Cas’ sides, one hand slowing to sit over his enochian tattoo, while the other stopped to rest at his hip. He leaned forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“There you go, buddy.”

Cas turned and placed a kiss over Dean’s anti possession tattoo in return. “Thank you, Dean.”

#dailydestieldelights #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #mine #my writing #my fic #fic #congrats on 2k!!#Ive had this idea kicking around my notes for a while so i thought this was the perfect excuse to write it :)

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big-wet-cas-eyes · 3 years

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beach: day 1 of @starrynightdeancas 's 2k followers celebration ✨(ao3)

It’s not exactly what Dean had in mind when he said he wanted to go to the beach. Kill God, then relax with his toes in the sand… This wasn't that. But he rarely gets the Impala out to one coast or the other, so really, he should’ve known that this was the beach that was waiting for him.

It’s barely thirty degrees. Whenever he comes to Chicago, he’s struck by how big Lake Michigan really is. It hardly looks like a lake at all. It stretches so far in every direction that it looks like the ocean. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he shoved his face in it and tasted salt.

A vampire nest had brought them to town, and it proved enough of a pain in the ass that Eileen had joined up too after Dean, Sam, and Cas realized how many vamps were really hanging around. The four of them handled it easily enough with minimal injuries. Dean had already tended to the slice above Cas’s eyebrow. Sam was going to be nursing a bruised rib cage for a while. Eileen, the badass that she is, came out completely unscathed. And Dean was dealing with a large gash skimming the side of his body, but counted himself lucky since the piece of rebar that got him could have easily caused significantly more damage.

Eileen had insisted they stick around town at least for the day, and one look at the sappy, doe-eyed way Sam was looking at her told Dean he wouldn’t be able to argue even if he wanted to.

So Sam and Eileen ran off somewhere to explore (he thought he heard something about a museum with tiny rooms or something), and Dean and Cas ended up wandering off on their own.

They were somewhere north of downtown in a quiet neighborhood with cute rows of houses lining the streets. They walked mostly in silence, hands brushing softly as they went.

They haven’t talked about it yet, but Dean is pretty sure Cas knows how he feels. It’s not like he would ever be able to form the words to describe those feelings anyway. Cas is the one who’s good with words, who poured out his soul (or the angel equivalent) before being taken away from Dean for what he thought was forever. Dean couldn’t compete with those words. So instead, he let his actions speak.

Dean knows that saving Cas from the Empty hadn’t been something he did on his own. There’s no way he could’ve done with without Sam, Jack, and Eileen, plus a handful of other hunters who did what they could. But Dean was the one who didn’t give up. Dean was the one who found a back door into the Empty. Dean was the one who snuck in and crept through the endless darkness. Dean was the one who could sense Cas’s presence and tracked it until he found him. Dean was the one who recognized Cas outside of his vessel, a mess of incomprehensible shapes and swirls and colors and eyes. Dean was the one who didn't let go, even as Cas's grace got ripped out when the Empty tried to hold onto him. Dean was the one who got him out.

Maybe Dean was bad with words, but he was good with showing how he felt.

Eventually, they'd stumbled upon a deserted beach. The deserted part wasn’t surprising, given the fact that it’s January in Chicago. But he was surprised when Cas had grabbed his hand and dragged him through the sand until they were standing at the edge of the water.

That’s where Dean finds himself now, looking out. Cas is still clasping his hand, but they aren't speaking. The water is a deep blue, only small ripples disturbing the surface, but it looks icy farther out. The day is gloomy, but the wind is surprisingly nonexistent, making the temperature more bearable. He turns slowly to let himself take in the rest of the scene. When he imagined his beach vacation he hadn’t pictured a rocky beach covered in snow. The edges of this beach are lined with large boulders and there’s a light dusting of snow that leads into a thicker layer toward the edges.

It’s more beautiful than Dean could’ve imagined. No, there’s no way he’s pulling off his shoes to put his toes in the freezing cold sand. No, there’s no way he’d want a cold cocktail with a tiny umbrella in it. No, there's no way he's going to take off his shirt and jump in the water. No, it's not what he imagined.

But he’s content to stand here, taking in the calm and quiet that exists at the edge of the city on a frozen beach, holding hands with the love of his life.

#dailydestieldelights #destiel ficlet #deancas ficlet #destiel fluff #deancas fluff #my writing

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castielsbeeslippers · 3 years

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If you’re seeing me posting this late no you didn’t 😌✨💕

Freedom is falling and trusting yourself to fly.

@starrynightdeancas 2k followers celebration event ✨✨✨✨

#cillabeepoetry #dailydestieldelights #destiel #destiel poem #Cas POV #destiel poetry

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ensignabby · 3 years

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Day 4: Firsts, 2k Followers Celebration Content Creator Event

The first time it happens, Dean confuses it for the same dreams of feverish longing that had gripped him before the… event. The ones that would twist his sheets and wake him with an ache in the spot in his heart that he reserved for a day that would never come.

In the following days, he hadn’t had the chance to dream; after crying himself hoarse on the floor of that armory, he went through his waking hours drenched in apathy, the only reprieve aided at night by his favorite black-label whiskey. His sleep is void and formless. It provides no relief.

So when he miscalculates and fails to drink enough to numb himself one night, the dreams start coming. And vividly.

At first, they seem to have no form. It is all blindness and feeling, a reaching out… The one he desires is there in the darkness.

A breath. A touch.

Hesitant at first, then a desperate grasping. The caresses are frantic, violent; surely there is no chance they will come again. The blackness sighs.

“You’re not real.” It says.

Dean can feel the form beside him, flourishing into full substance, grasping it tighter lest he lose it, senses overwhelmed with the familiar scent of cedar and ozone. Cleansing rain after a drought. “If I’m not real, then neither are you.”

But the intensity of the embrace remains. Dean feels it when he wakes.

The second time it happens, Dean is eager as he seeks out that warmth. He is folded into arms, expected, welcomed.

Dean feels the touch of a hand on his cheek, and he inclines his head, seeking the comfort in that void, wishing he could see a face. “I miss you so much, Cas,” he whispers.

A breath. A sob. “This is torture.”

Sadness emanates, penetrates Dean’s soul. He can feel Castiel’s sorrow, and he weeps as well. “I’m so sorry that you felt alone. You never should have felt alone.”

“I am alone… it’s more than I can bear.” There is hesitance, but then Castiel’s grip tightens, hands travelling up Dean’s back, holding him in place. “But if you are just a figment sent here to torment me, I’ll take what solace I can make of it. It’s all I have left.”

Dean seeks out familiar features, feels the stubbled cheekbones under his thumbs, says what he dared not to in the waking world. “You had me. You will always have me. Just please,” He begs, “Don’t leave me.”

He tastes lips ghosted with the salt of tears, and he shudders under the weight of how real it all feels. He wonders if anything can feel as real as that moment.

When he wakes up that morning, and the many mornings after, nothing does.

His eyes are open to the world, but he is dead to the sensation of it. He comes alive only when his eyes are closed once again, when he can feel claimed again, losing himself to Castiel’s touch in that endless obscurity.

And then, with just as much force as they invaded Dean’s existence, the dreams stop coming.

No matter how much he claws at the darkness, there is nothing to grasp, no one to hold him when his prayers are shouted to the nothingness.

Then Dean starts to panic. Nothing awaits for him but a life left colorless. He can see nothing unfolding before him but days uncounted. An unending march of a masquerade. He knows how to hide, to stifle; he’s been doing it his entire life. But this time, there would be no way to stem the cracks of his crumbling façade…

That is, until an unnatural peace settles over him, like a warm blanket has been set on his shoulders. A whisper, a golden blooming of love in his chest. A breath. A touch. He doesn’t know why, but something is telling him that it’s okay. He’ll be okay. That joy is coming.

It’s that promise that he hangs onto, even as he says goodbye to his brother and his vision fails him. He knows deep within his soul that the rest he seeks is on the other side.

And the first time he sees Castiel in heaven, when he is enveloped once again in the gentleness that he felt in that midnight, he understands.

* * *

Thank you @starrynightdeancas for posting this event! Congrats on your followers, and I’m so honored to be one of them!

#dailydestieldelights #destiel #deancas #destiel fan fic #destiel ficlets #fan fiction #dean winchester #castiel

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fortunesfavours · 3 years

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Here’s my contribution to @starrynightdeancas 2k follower celebration, part one! The prompt was beach, which sparked the idea of Dean and Cas retiring to a beach cottage together. I built it in the sims, and provided a list of headcanons to go along with it. Hope you enjoy!

Dean and Cas buy a broken down, overgrown old house on the coast of Maine

They immediately set about fixing it up

They leave some of the ivy on the house because Cas thinks it’s pretty (Dean agrees)

After restoring the plumbing and electricity, they finally spend a day assembling their bed in the bedroom, surrounded by the few suitcases that hold their entire lives

The master bedroom is bigger than they thought from the pictures on the internet

So they fill it with their bed, their books, their mementos, and all the things they never thought they’d have a home for

There’s a little fireplace in the bedroom. Cas and Dean sit on a sofa at the end of their bed and listen to the sounds of the fire.

They have a chess table, on Cas’ insistence. He teaches Dean how to play, and Dean proves to be quite good.

The space around the base of the stairs is converted into an office and library for Cas who gets a job at the nearby town’s community college where he teaches a class on folklore and history

(The students have an abundance of theories about who he and his partner? husband? actually are. They’ve come closer than they’d expect.)

The bookshelves easily fill themselves with books Sam finds and sends to them for safekeeping and what they took from the bunker

His desk is cluttered and always stacked with books and his laptop, as well as a few abandoned coffee mugs

A map hangs on the wall, pinned with places they want to visit and rugs are scattered across the floor

Cas also takes over the porch, lining the side of the house with a row of mismatched pots for plants, a bee hive, and a gardening table and storage

(Dean gets a woodworking table just off the front steps)

They convert a downstairs bedroom into a bar for Dean, which he decorates with mementos from their family all over America and a big sign converted into a light that bathes the room in warm light

There’s a Stanford flag Sam sent him from where he had gotten a job, the bar is covered in flags and stickers from other hunters that stopped by, and a pride flag Cas proudly presented him after they got home from their first pride parade. A pile of paintings Jack made at school in his art class sit on display in the corner, and behind them, the wall is covered in photos of all the hunters they could find.

The barstools are mismatched but lovingly curated, collected from yard sales and thrift stores

Dean loves spending time in there, stealing kisses from Cas and practicing making drinks in his free time off from his mechanic job

The kitchen has dingy white cabinets with blue countertops that clash perfectly with the yellow paint. Cas adores it. Dean insists on repainting everything, but Cas makes him keep the colour scheme. The stove and fridge are the same blue as the countertops, which Dean chooses while Cas is at work as a surprise. Cas adores them too.

Sam buys them a fancy coffee maker when he gets a promotion. They fight over how to work it (and end up kissing against the counter)

Jack paints them a five-piece painting to match the blues in the kitchen. They display it proudly and always show it off to their guests

They buy the comfiest sofas they can find, and Dean builds an end table to match. He finds an old trunk and turns it into a tv table. Jack helps them pick out a TV and video game system. He invites his friends over whenever he can and they all adore visiting.

They have a big brick fireplace that’s perfect to curl up in front of when their old injuries are acting up. They play board games on rainy days and roast s’mores with Jack.

The entryway has hooks for Cas’ trenchcoat and gardening hat, across from an old globe that Cas likes to spin around as he tells stories about the places he’s seen

They keep two old rocking chairs there, where Dean and Cas sit on the harder nights, holding hands and simply being

The downstairs bathroom, Dean and Cas agree, is the superior bathroom. With its big tub (large enough for two) and its cheerful yellow curtain, they are rather fond of spending time there together. They have a bath mat shaped like a flower.

The upstairs bathroom is a bit more cramped and less colorful, but works beautifully. They keep the bathrobes Eileen bought them up there. Cas’ is the same colour as his trenchcoat.

The upstairs hallway is a perfect reading nook, from its comfy armchairs to the pile of cushions Jack likes to do his homework curled up on. Dean finds the armchair Cas chose extraordinarily ugly, but he looked so happy at the sight of it that he doesn’t say anything.

Jack’s easel is next to the bookshelf in the hallway. He loves to paint at strange times of the day and night - strange, ethereal images inspired by his life

Jack’s bedroom is cheerful, full of haphazardly pinned posters of his interests and soft blankets for when he gets overwhelmed. He has a gigantic stuffed dragon he hugs and talks to, and when his friends playfully tease him, he only grins and says “sometimes you’ve got to be a kid, you know?”

He has a pink and black gaming chair and a fancy desk setup for gaming with his friends. His desk lamp has planets on it, and it sits opposite the microphone.

He keeps makeup and nail polish on his dresser. No one dares tease him.

They’re happy. They’re really, truly, happy.

#dailydestieldelights #destiel #deancas #deancas headcanon #destiel headcanon #my work

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