Castiel awakens to the wet drag of Dean’s lips on his neck and the sleep warm press of Dean’s body against his own. He reaches clumsily, half-heartedly to push Dean’s face away, a disgruntled complaint lost somewhere between his still mostly asleep brain and his lips. Dean chuckles, soft and throaty, and kisses at the line of his jaw instead, nuzzling his way to Castiel’s ear.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," he whispers, his voice still hoarse with sleep. Without waiting for an answer he kisses the curve of Castiel’s ear, nibbles delicately at his earlobe. Castiel shivers at the delicious warmth of Dean’s breath on his skin and the matching curl of the same in the pit of his stomach.
"No," he murmurs in answer, not willing to give up slumber quite so easily despite his body’s treachery.
"You sure about that?" Another sleepy chuckle rumbles in Dean’s chest as - undeterred - he kisses lazily down the side of Castiel’s neck. He pauses, lips pressed to the top of Castiel’s shoulder as the pad of his thumb brushes against Castiel’s nipple.
Faced with such a persuasive argument for consciousness, Castiel concedes the battle with fingers curled reflexively around the back of Dean’s neck and a breathy, “Oh.”dean x castiel warm fuzzies spndomesticfic spnsleepyfic
Two months and more false starts than he cares to think about after their first kiss, Misha has his fingers wrapped around Jensen’s thick cock. Sprawled half-naked as best as they can on the too-small couch in Jensen’s trailer, Misha whispers filthy encouragement against the curve of his ear as he strokes slowly from root to tip and back again.jensen x misha not work safe* spnruttingfic spnhandjob spnfirsttime
A lifetime of being the new guy has given Misha the ability to read people quickly and accurately - that’s why he knows almost immediately that Jensen is interested. He pretends not to notice when he catches Jensen’s eyes drifting to his lips while simultaneously licking his own. He pretends not to understand Jensen’s subtle teasing, taking umbrage so Jensen will feel the need to lay a hand his shoulder reassuringly and explain with a grin.
Most of all, Misha pretends not to know where the evening is headed the first time Jensen asks him into his trailer - alone - for a beer.jensen x misha semi-nsfw spnkissfic spnfirstkiss
"Cas, wait. Please,” Dean pleads helplessly.
He doesn’t try to stop Castiel from walking away, standing in stunned silence as he watches the angel retreat down the length of the bunker’s library in the wake of raised voices and cutting words. Tears sting Dean’s eyes. He knew - has always known - that the new of their relationship would wear off and this would happen.
He’s always known Castiel would leave in the end; everyone does. His miscalculation was only in when that end would come. Bitterness wells up from Dean’s chest, so thick it chokes as he reaches up to grind the heels of his palms savagely against his eyes. Everything has gone to shit, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to cry about it.
Fuck Cas and fuck this stupid fight and fuck his cursed life.
The weight of Castiel’s hand on Dean’s shoulder is as unexpected as it is gentle and he drags his fingertips slowly down his face; afraid to open his eyes in case it’s only wishful thinking. When he does finally look, Castiel is standing before him, eyes soft and shining as he studies Dean’s face.
"I thought.." Dean starts, but the lump in his throat is too thick for anything else to get past it, so he swallows instead. Hope flutters in the middle of his chest when Castiel doesn’t turn away.
"You thought I would leave?" Cas asks, one corner of his mouth lifting in a faintly sad smile. Dean nods as Castiel’s palm slides up to rest against the side of his neck. His thumb brushes Dean’s jaw in a familiar, soothing motion. "Because we argued?"
Dean nods again, embarrassment curling in the pit of his stomach. Thirty seconds and a clear-headed thought away from the heat of the moment, it seems absurd to think Castiel was doing anything more than taking a moment to compose himself. They’ve yelled louder; said worse.. and Castiel always comes back. Dean licks his lips and swallows the lump of fear and pride in his throat.
"I’m sorry," they say in unison and a beat of silence followed by surprised laughter breaks the tension that has gathered like storm clouds between them.dean x castiel warm fuzzies spndomesticfic (it ends in warm fuzzies anyway)
Though Dean knew that Castiel had wings, he never gave much thought to what that might mean. He certainly never thought about the fact that all wings - even those of an angel - need maintenance; perhaps that’s why, the first time he walks in on Castiel’s wing-grooming ritual, he can only stop and stare in disbelief.
Cas is shirtless with his wings spread wide, twisted at a ridiculous angle that reminds Dean of a puppy chasing his tail while his fingers comb through the dark feathers he can most easily reach. With a frustrated growl, he pulls his left wing in toward his body and reaches quickly to catch the ends of the longest feathers with one hand. Once he has them in hand he doesn’t seem to know what to do; much like a puppy that catches his tail.
He’s so focused on the feathers in his hand that he somehow misses Dean’s approach. Evidence of his inattention comes in the quick flare of his right wing and his sharply drawn breath when Dean’s fingers begin to gently pry his own away from the thick feathers that are more mussed than they were before he caught them. Dean strokes slowly down the twisted feathers, setting them straight in the process.
"Need some help, Cas?" He asks with a chuckle. He takes the high road, avoiding any mention how absurd Castiel looks chasing his feathers; though he can’t help wondering how Cas has managed this long without someone’s help.
"I thought you’d never ask," Castiel answers, his tone a familiar mix of annoyance and relief even as his tensed wing relaxes under Dean’s fingertips.dean x castiel warm fuzzies spndomesticfic spnwingfic
Dean has never been much for public displays of affection.
At first it was weird to reach for Castiel’s hand, to slot their fingers together in full view of whoever happened to be in their vicinity. At first, he did it to placate Cas, to answer the question, “Why don’t you like to hold my hand?” At first, it was a chore - something to remember - pick up milk, change Baby’s oil, hold Cas’ hand. At first, he noticed when people stared at the two stubble-faced men holding hands like teenagers at a house party; even in the grocery store. At first, he bristled when Sam would point out that he and Cas were holding hands, again.
Somehow, seemingly overnight, it stopped being a chore and started being a necessity. Gone were the forethought and the self-consciousness; gone was ticking it off his to do list. Dean’s sense of duty was replaced by a sense of wonder at how smooth Castiel’s skin was against his own more calloused palm; by an acute awareness of the living electricity that twists around Castiel’s bones, making his skin feel like the equivalent of chewing aluminum; by the warmth of Castiel’s fingers threaded between his perfectly every time as though they were made to be there.
Dean had never been much for public displays of affection; not until Cas.dean x castiel warm fuzzies spndomesticfic your belle deanvinity <3
Dean loves it when Cas gets rough with him. He loves the discomfort of having his face shoved against the bed with his ass still in the air. He loves the sharp burn of not-quite-ready and not-quite-enough-lube. He especially loves the way Castiel’s fingers dig into his hips hard enough to leave bruises that will last for days, the guttural grunts of pleasure that accompany every bone-rattling thrust, and the way Cas always seems to know when it’s exactly what he needs.
Lost in a haze of pleasure that borders on pain with his fists balled in the sheets while he moans nonsense and holds on for dear life, Dean can forget everything that’s wrong with his life. With everything stripped away except the slap of sweaty skin and the long tendrils of orgasm wrapping ever tighter around his insides, Dean can finally breathe. In these primal moments with the pillow leaving contact burns on his cheek and Castiel murmuring the kind of filth that should never touch an angel’s lips, Dean feels whole.dean x castiel not work safe* spntopcas spnbottomdean
It’s only been two weeks since Dean last saw Castiel but that doesn’t dampen his enthusiasm. Finally in the same town - the same motel room, no less - he pulls the surprised angel into his arms, pressing the full length of their bodies together and squeezing tightly.
"God, I’ve missed you," he says, grinning as he ducks his head to press a kiss to Castiel’s chin. Even Cas’ disgruntled little squeak at being squeezed makes Dean’s heartbeat flutter; and he drops another kiss, this one to the corner of Castiel’s mouth.
"I missed you, too, Dean," Cas replies, a little breathlessly. He turns his head, pressing a lingering kiss to Dean’s lips as his hands settle on Dean’s hips. When he tilts his head, lips parting in invitation, Dean doesn’t hesitate.
Every first kiss when they’ve been apart is like the very first kiss, filled with Dean’s tentative exploration and Castiel’s inelegant reciprocation. Cas tastes like coffee and crisp mountain air and Dean’s fingers curl in his scratchy overcoat as he teases the tip of Castiel’s tongue with his own. The soft sound of pleasure that accompanies Castiel’s surge forward makes Dean’s stomach flip excitedly.
He pushes Dean’s shirt up, cold hands sending a shiver down Dean’s spine as he relaxes into Castiel’s kiss. After a long moment of give and take, wet lips and swallowed mewls, Dean pulls away. Castiel’s eyes open slowly, dark lashes still obscuring blue as he takes a few shallow breaths.
Dean feels a smile spreading across his face again as he releases his hold on Castiel’s body and starts to push the overcoat off his shoulders. Cas closes his eyes again and smiles, too, and Dean’s heart beats a little faster at the prospect of making up for two lost weeks.dean x castiel warm fuzzies spnkissfic
It’s well past midnight on an early spring night, warm and humid, and Castiel can almost feel the dew forming on the short grass he’s lying in. With his hands folded across his chest, he’s listening to the crickets chirp and watching the slow movement of the stars across the sky when Dean approaches and clears his throat quietly.
"Do you ever miss being up there with the stars?" Dean’s question is halting, his voice uncertain.
"Yes," Castiel admits as he tears his gaze away from the sky and fixes it on the currently upside man standing arm’s length away. Silence falls; Dean tips his head back, tilting it to the side and staring at the stars for a long moment.
"Will you go back?" Dean doesn’t look down, his voice even more apprehensive than before. "I mean, do you want to go back?”
Castiel sees Dean’s adam’s apple bob, watches the way he crosses his arms over his chest and squares his shoulders, then he looks away. He traces the constellation Aquila - the eagle - with his eyes, carefully considering the question. Much to his surprise, the answer leaps easily to his lips.
Dean’s breath hisses out as though he’d been holding it and he finally looks down. Though Castiel can’t see his eyes, he imagines they’re shining, softened with relief when Dean asks a thick-voiced, “No?”
"No," Castiel repeats simply, a warm smile settling on his lips as he holds out a hand in invitation for Dean to join him in stargazing.dean x castiel warm fuzzies spndomesticfic
In Misha’s view, the best part of Jensen getting tipsy is that he forgets to care if people are watching. That’s why Misha would never dream of arguing when, at the tail end of a set birthday party, Jensen is pressed against his back with arms around his chest, squeezing a little too tight.
"It’s my birthday," Jensen informs him sincerely, as though he doesn’t already know.
"Is it?" Misha asks, trying to turn his head to look at his tipsy new outerwear.
"Didn’t you know?" Jensen asks in return; his body warm and soft against Misha’s when he laughs, his breath tickling Misha’s ear.
"I guess I forgot," Misha says, shrugging as best he can with a hundred-and-seventy pounds of Jensen draped over him. He tries to hide his smile, but doesn’t care when he fails.
"That’s a damn shame," Jensen says with an affected sigh, and Misha nearly falls over when his weight is suddenly gone. He barely has time to catch his balance before Jensen’s open palm lands on his ass, stinging even through his clothes. Raucous laughter comes from all corners of the room at the resounding smack, and Misha has to duck his head to hide the blush that’s creeping into his cheeks.
Jensen barely slurs when he leans close to Misha’s ear to whisper, “I was gonna let you spank me.”jensen x misha warm fuzzies alcohol cw