Au nom de l’amour

Jus, 31, they/them, France spn heavy on the deancas, seal team, green day and a whole lot of screaming in the tags • pro-shipper, recovering addict (XIV) #juswrites | AO3 | buy me a ko-fi

[deancaspinefest]

Leave a Light On  |  Explicit  |  95,996 words

Author: chaoticdean

Artist: entropic_saudade

Philadelphia, 2020.

Dean Winchester has been working as a detective for years, and he’s tired. Bone-tired, burnt out and carrying the weight of an alcohol issue he refuses to acknowledge. He’s also a husband and a father to 3 kids, even though lately he’s been forgetting that part.

Castiel Novak has been an attorney for the better part of the last decade, and Dean’s husband for 15 years. And he’s tired—tired of carrying the weight of his family on his own; tired of fighting so his marriage doesn’t crumble.

It all comes to a head when Marla Ashford’s case explodes: she’s a candidate for the next mayoral campaign, and when her deputy fundraiser is killed, she asks Cas to defend her. Unfortunately, Dean is the lead detective on the case… And neither of them plans on letting go.

Between arguments, kids being way too perceptive, and Dean’s issues with alcohol, what could go wrong?

This is a story about a family fighting to stay whole while the world explodes around them; a high-stakes domestic drama and legal thriller rolled into one. One where Dean’s fight with alcohol becomes the center of everything, and they could lose it all.

Can they make it to the end of the line together?

Link to fic  |  Link to art 

Pairings: Dean/Cas (background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, background Garth Fitzgerald IV/Benny Lafitte)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Alcohol abuse, Addiction

Tags: Alternate Universe - Political True Crime, somehow also Dean’s journey through alcoholism, detective!dean, attorney!Cas, married Dean/Cas

[chaoticdean]

I am so incredibly happy that this story is out. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed working on it.

This will mark the end of a 7-year-long era for me, as I will be stepping back from writing for a big ol' pause (likely the whole year). Thank you to everyone who's followed me and my writing since '19 and supported me with kudos, comments, reblogs, Ko-fi, and buying my fic as hardcopies. It means more to me than I can ever explain.

Speaking of hardcopies, this one is available to buy here! It ships globally at a flat rate (no tariffs for my US friends since it's printed locally).

All of my hardcopies will remain available on my Ko-fi, and I don't plan to orphan any of my fics either. My goal is to go back to writing because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. Somewhere along the way I lost that little spark... And I want it back!

Enjoy the story and the hardcopy, and if you get a book, please post a pic and tag me, there's nothing I love more than seeing my stuff in the wild!

With love, always (and to Dean and Cas, forever, in any universe I can create) 💙💚✨

— Jus aka chaoticdean

[chaoticdean]

Me: I'm taking a break from writing anything

The muse: Nuh-huh

Me: Well.

[perverted-asexual]

I'm sorry I keep posting my tiktok comments but please. What does this mean. What do people THINK shipping is for anymore???

[scientistservant]

[pro-prin-prinny]

AO3 authors in the lab creating ships purely for research purposes:

[sarapsys]

Creating ships for the tax write-off

[goodfish-bowl]

Creating ships to get that fucking whale.

[preludeinz]

creating ships to wedge into the Suez canal and disrupt global shipping

[deancaspinefest]

Leave a Light On  |  Explicit  |  95,996 words

Author: chaoticdean

Artist: entropic_saudade

Philadelphia, 2020.

Dean Winchester has been working as a detective for years, and he’s tired. Bone-tired, burnt out and carrying the weight of an alcohol issue he refuses to acknowledge. He’s also a husband and a father to 3 kids, even though lately he’s been forgetting that part.

Castiel Novak has been an attorney for the better part of the last decade, and Dean’s husband for 15 years. And he’s tired—tired of carrying the weight of his family on his own; tired of fighting so his marriage doesn’t crumble.

It all comes to a head when Marla Ashford’s case explodes: she’s a candidate for the next mayoral campaign, and when her deputy fundraiser is killed, she asks Cas to defend her. Unfortunately, Dean is the lead detective on the case… And neither of them plans on letting go.

Between arguments, kids being way too perceptive, and Dean’s issues with alcohol, what could go wrong?

This is a story about a family fighting to stay whole while the world explodes around them; a high-stakes domestic drama and legal thriller rolled into one. One where Dean’s fight with alcohol becomes the center of everything, and they could lose it all.

Can they make it to the end of the line together?

Link to fic  |  Link to art 

Pairings: Dean/Cas (background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, background Garth Fitzgerald IV/Benny Lafitte)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Alcohol abuse, Addiction

Tags: Alternate Universe - Political True Crime, somehow also Dean’s journey through alcoholism, detective!dean, attorney!Cas, married Dean/Cas

[chaoticdean]

I am so incredibly happy that this story is out. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed working on it.

This will mark the end of a 7-year-long era for me, as I will be stepping back from writing for a big ol’ pause (likely the whole year). Thank you to everyone who’s followed me and my writing since ‘19 and supported me with kudos, comments, reblogs, Ko-fi, and buying my fic as hardcopies. It means more to me than I can ever explain.

Speaking of hardcopies, this one is available to buy here! It ships globally at a flat rate (no tariffs for my US friends since it’s printed locally).

All of my hardcopies will remain available on my Ko-fi, and I don’t plan to orphan any of my fics either. My goal is to go back to writing because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. Somewhere along the way I lost that little spark… And I want it back!

Enjoy the story and the hardcopy, and if you get a book, please post a pic and tag me, there’s nothing I love more than seeing my stuff in the wild!

With love, always (and to Dean and Cas, forever, in any universe I can create) 💙💚✨

— Jus aka chaoticdean

[inacatastrophicmind]

[inacatastrophicmind]

Jensen Ackles as Soldier Boy in The Boys 5x07

[chaoticdean]

I was just sent this pic of the hardcopy of 91W (that I did the typeset and cover for) signed by Misha and Jensen and I haven’t stopped hiccuping between laughing and crying

(this was done with komodobits approval and help, as incentive for her PCRF charity drive and you can’t still get one if you donate 20$!)

[chaoticdean]

Dean was stretched out against the headboard in a pair of worn gray pajama pants, bare skin warm beneath the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp. Castiel was curled against him in nothing but dark boxers, one leg tangled lazily with Dean’s while the laptop balanced dangerously near Dean’s knee played an old movie neither of them had been paying attention to for at least twenty minutes.

Dean carded his fingers absentmindedly through Castiel’s hair.

“You know,” he murmured, “normal couples probably don’t spend date night researching fake FBI badges and eating cold takeout.”

Castiel hummed against his chest. “That is because normal couples are cowards.”

Dean barked out a laugh, the sound vibrating under Castiel’s cheek. “Wow. Okay. Hostile.”

“I’m merely observant.”

“Sure you are.”

The movie exploded into a loud car chase scene. Dean reached over to lower the volume before settling back again, his arm immediately returning around Castiel’s shoulders like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Cas traced lazy shapes over Dean’s stomach with two fingers. “Sam bought oat milk again.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. Man looked me dead in the eyes this morning and said it was ‘creamier.’”

“You were offended for several hours.”

“I’m still offended.”

Castiel tilted his head just enough to look up at him. “You are very sensitive.”

Dean narrowed his eyes fondly. “You say that while cuddling me like a teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cas.”

“I am simply existing near you.”

Dean snorted and squeezed his hip. “Uh huh.”

Castiel let his head settle back onto Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his ear while Dean’s fingers continued combing slowly through his hair. The room felt warm. Safe. Dean smelled like soap and sleep and the lingering traces of coffee.

The realization crept over him quietly.

He had become accustomed to this.

Not simply sharing space with Dean, not the occasional touches or kisses stolen in motel kitchens or against the Impala after hunts. This. The softness of it. The ease.

The domesticity.

Dean adjusting the blanket over both of them without even looking away from the movie.

Dean rubbing slow circles into his back because he knew Castiel liked it.

Dean letting him steal all the warmth without complaint.

Castiel frowned faintly.

Dean noticed immediately, because of course he did. “What’s going on in that giant angel brain?”

Castiel was quiet for a moment.

Then, softly, “I think I’ve become very comfortable with you.”

Dean’s expression melted into something unbearably tender.

“Well,” he said lightly, “yeah, sweetheart. That’s usually what happens when you’ve been dating somebody for years.”

Castiel ignored the teasing. “No, I mean…” He glanced down at where his hand rested over Dean’s heart. “This feels natural to me now. I did not expect that.”

Dean’s face softened further somehow.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

Castiel was already as close as physically possible, but Dean still tugged him higher against his chest until Cas was half sprawled over him. Dean pressed a kiss into his hairline.

“You know what’s natural to me now?” Dean said quietly.

“What?”

“You being here.”

Castiel looked up at him.

Dean smiled, sleepy and crooked and entirely fond. “Also you stealing all the blankets. Which is impressive considering you literally run colder than humanly possible.”

“I cannot regulate my temperature properly in this vessel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”

Castiel leaned up just enough to kiss him, slow and familiar.

Dean kissed him back with a soft hum, one hand sliding up along his spine.

When they pulled apart, Dean rested his forehead against his for a second before mumbling, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I was under the impression you found me devastatingly handsome.”

Dean grinned. “See? Comfortable. Couple years ago you would’ve stared at me like a confused tax accountant if I flirted with you.”

“That still occurs occasionally.”

“Yeah, but now you flirt back, so.” Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. “Character development.”

[chaoticdean]

Later, when it’s dark outside and Cas is almost entirely asleep, the movie is still playing quietly from Dean’s laptop, though neither of them has changed it in hours.

The bunker has gone silent around them.

Cas is sprawled half on top of Dean now, face tucked into the crook of his neck, one arm heavy across Dean’s stomach. His breathing has gone slow and deep in that way that means he’s right on the edge of sleep, vessel finally relaxed enough to fully rest.

Dean can’t sleep.

Not because he’s anxious. Not because of nightmares or unfinished hunts or the million ugly things usually clawing around in his head.

Just because Cas is here.

Warm and sleepy and safe in his arms.

Dean glances down at him again.

God, he loves this man.

Cas’ hair is a mess from Dean running his hands through it for the last hour, dark strands sticking out in every direction. There’s a faint crease on his cheek from where he’d been pressed against Dean’s chest, and his lips are still slightly swollen from kissing earlier.

Dean feels something painfully soft settle in his chest.

Years ago, he never would’ve imagined this for himself. Not the bunker feeling like home. Not quiet nights. Definitely not this: Cas curled against him in nothing but boxers, trusting Dean enough to fall asleep like he doesn’t have to stay alert for the end of the world.

Dean brushes his fingers carefully through Cas’s hair again.

Cas makes a tiny sound, barely conscious, and instinctively presses closer.

Dean’s heart practically folds in on itself.

“Yeah, okay,” he whispers fondly. “C’mere, angel.”

Not that Cas could physically get any closer, but Dean still shifts him gently higher against his chest and pulls the blanket tighter around both of them.

Cas’ eyelashes flutter.

“You are staring at me,” he mumbles sleepily.

Dean huffs a quiet laugh. “Thought you were asleep.”

“I nearly was.”

“Uh huh.”

Cas squints one eye open just enough to look at him. “Why are you staring?”

Dean should say something sarcastic. Usually he would.

Instead, his hand slides slowly along Cas’s bare back, and he says honestly, “Because I love you.”

Cas goes still for half a second. As he does every single time Dean says the words.

Even half asleep, those words still affect him every time.

Dean watches the sleepy confusion melt into something soft and luminous in Cas’s expression. Like he still doesn’t fully understand how Dean could possibly look at him this way after everything: with so much affection it almost aches.

“There is an 87% chance you are being sentimental because you are tired,” Cas murmurs.

Dean grins helplessly. “And there’s the little shit I fell in love with.”

“I love you too,” Cas says quietly.

Simple. Certain.

Dean looks at him for another long moment after that, unable to stop.

Cas’ eyes are already drifting shut again, completely relaxed against him, trusting Dean to hold him through the night.

The fondness in Dean’s chest feels almost overwhelming.

He presses a kiss against Cas’s forehead and whispers, so softly Cas probably doesn’t even hear it.

“Best thing that ever happened to me.”

[chaoticdean]

Now live on Ao3!

don't look at me i'm on hiatus this just came out unprompted

[purewasteland]

let me sit over here.

[chaoticdean]

Dean was stretched out against the headboard in a pair of worn gray pajama pants, bare skin warm beneath the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp. Castiel was curled against him in nothing but dark boxers, one leg tangled lazily with Dean’s while the laptop balanced dangerously near Dean’s knee played an old movie neither of them had been paying attention to for at least twenty minutes.

Dean carded his fingers absentmindedly through Castiel’s hair.

“You know,” he murmured, “normal couples probably don’t spend date night researching fake FBI badges and eating cold takeout.”

Castiel hummed against his chest. “That is because normal couples are cowards.”

Dean barked out a laugh, the sound vibrating under Castiel’s cheek. “Wow. Okay. Hostile.”

“I’m merely observant.”

“Sure you are.”

The movie exploded into a loud car chase scene. Dean reached over to lower the volume before settling back again, his arm immediately returning around Castiel’s shoulders like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Cas traced lazy shapes over Dean’s stomach with two fingers. “Sam bought oat milk again.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. Man looked me dead in the eyes this morning and said it was ‘creamier.’”

“You were offended for several hours.”

“I’m still offended.”

Castiel tilted his head just enough to look up at him. “You are very sensitive.”

Dean narrowed his eyes fondly. “You say that while cuddling me like a teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cas.”

“I am simply existing near you.”

Dean snorted and squeezed his hip. “Uh huh.”

Castiel let his head settle back onto Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his ear while Dean’s fingers continued combing slowly through his hair. The room felt warm. Safe. Dean smelled like soap and sleep and the lingering traces of coffee.

The realization crept over him quietly.

He had become accustomed to this.

Not simply sharing space with Dean, not the occasional touches or kisses stolen in motel kitchens or against the Impala after hunts. This. The softness of it. The ease.

The domesticity.

Dean adjusting the blanket over both of them without even looking away from the movie.

Dean rubbing slow circles into his back because he knew Castiel liked it.

Dean letting him steal all the warmth without complaint.

Castiel frowned faintly.

Dean noticed immediately, because of course he did. “What’s going on in that giant angel brain?”

Castiel was quiet for a moment.

Then, softly, “I think I’ve become very comfortable with you.”

Dean’s expression melted into something unbearably tender.

“Well,” he said lightly, “yeah, sweetheart. That’s usually what happens when you’ve been dating somebody for years.”

Castiel ignored the teasing. “No, I mean…” He glanced down at where his hand rested over Dean’s heart. “This feels natural to me now. I did not expect that.”

Dean’s face softened further somehow.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

Castiel was already as close as physically possible, but Dean still tugged him higher against his chest until Cas was half sprawled over him. Dean pressed a kiss into his hairline.

“You know what’s natural to me now?” Dean said quietly.

“What?”

“You being here.”

Castiel looked up at him.

Dean smiled, sleepy and crooked and entirely fond. “Also you stealing all the blankets. Which is impressive considering you literally run colder than humanly possible.”

“I cannot regulate my temperature properly in this vessel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”

Castiel leaned up just enough to kiss him, slow and familiar.

Dean kissed him back with a soft hum, one hand sliding up along his spine.

When they pulled apart, Dean rested his forehead against his for a second before mumbling, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I was under the impression you found me devastatingly handsome.”

Dean grinned. “See? Comfortable. Couple years ago you would’ve stared at me like a confused tax accountant if I flirted with you.”

“That still occurs occasionally.”

“Yeah, but now you flirt back, so.” Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. “Character development.”

[chaoticdean]

Later, when it’s dark outside and Cas is almost entirely asleep, the movie is still playing quietly from Dean’s laptop, though neither of them has changed it in hours.

The bunker has gone silent around them.

Cas is sprawled half on top of Dean now, face tucked into the crook of his neck, one arm heavy across Dean’s stomach. His breathing has gone slow and deep in that way that means he’s right on the edge of sleep, vessel finally relaxed enough to fully rest.

Dean can’t sleep.

Not because he’s anxious. Not because of nightmares or unfinished hunts or the million ugly things usually clawing around in his head.

Just because Cas is here.

Warm and sleepy and safe in his arms.

Dean glances down at him again.

God, he loves this man.

Cas’ hair is a mess from Dean running his hands through it for the last hour, dark strands sticking out in every direction. There’s a faint crease on his cheek from where he’d been pressed against Dean’s chest, and his lips are still slightly swollen from kissing earlier.

Dean feels something painfully soft settle in his chest.

Years ago, he never would’ve imagined this for himself. Not the bunker feeling like home. Not quiet nights. Definitely not this: Cas curled against him in nothing but boxers, trusting Dean enough to fall asleep like he doesn’t have to stay alert for the end of the world.

Dean brushes his fingers carefully through Cas’s hair again.

Cas makes a tiny sound, barely conscious, and instinctively presses closer.

Dean’s heart practically folds in on itself.

“Yeah, okay,” he whispers fondly. “C’mere, angel.”

Not that Cas could physically get any closer, but Dean still shifts him gently higher against his chest and pulls the blanket tighter around both of them.

Cas’ eyelashes flutter.

“You are staring at me,” he mumbles sleepily.

Dean huffs a quiet laugh. “Thought you were asleep.”

“I nearly was.”

“Uh huh.”

Cas squints one eye open just enough to look at him. “Why are you staring?”

Dean should say something sarcastic. Usually he would.

Instead, his hand slides slowly along Cas’s bare back, and he says honestly, “Because I love you.”

Cas goes still for half a second. As he does every single time Dean says the words.

Even half asleep, those words still affect him every time.

Dean watches the sleepy confusion melt into something soft and luminous in Cas’s expression. Like he still doesn’t fully understand how Dean could possibly look at him this way after everything: with so much affection it almost aches.

“There is an 87% chance you are being sentimental because you are tired,” Cas murmurs.

Dean grins helplessly. “And there’s the little shit I fell in love with.”

“I love you too,” Cas says quietly.

Simple. Certain.

Dean looks at him for another long moment after that, unable to stop.

Cas’ eyes are already drifting shut again, completely relaxed against him, trusting Dean to hold him through the night.

The fondness in Dean’s chest feels almost overwhelming.

He presses a kiss against Cas’s forehead and whispers, so softly Cas probably doesn’t even hear it.

“Best thing that ever happened to me.”

[chaoticdean]

Dean was stretched out against the headboard in a pair of worn gray pajama pants, bare skin warm beneath the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp. Castiel was curled against him in nothing but dark boxers, one leg tangled lazily with Dean’s while the laptop balanced dangerously near Dean’s knee played an old movie neither of them had been paying attention to for at least twenty minutes.

Dean carded his fingers absentmindedly through Castiel’s hair.

“You know,” he murmured, “normal couples probably don’t spend date night researching fake FBI badges and eating cold takeout.”

Castiel hummed against his chest. “That is because normal couples are cowards.”

Dean barked out a laugh, the sound vibrating under Castiel’s cheek. “Wow. Okay. Hostile.”

“I’m merely observant.”

“Sure you are.”

The movie exploded into a loud car chase scene. Dean reached over to lower the volume before settling back again, his arm immediately returning around Castiel’s shoulders like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Cas traced lazy shapes over Dean’s stomach with two fingers. “Sam bought oat milk again.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. Man looked me dead in the eyes this morning and said it was ‘creamier.’”

“You were offended for several hours.”

“I’m still offended.”

Castiel tilted his head just enough to look up at him. “You are very sensitive.”

Dean narrowed his eyes fondly. “You say that while cuddling me like a teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cas.”

“I am simply existing near you.”

Dean snorted and squeezed his hip. “Uh huh.”

Castiel let his head settle back onto Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his ear while Dean’s fingers continued combing slowly through his hair. The room felt warm. Safe. Dean smelled like soap and sleep and the lingering traces of coffee.

The realization crept over him quietly.

He had become accustomed to this.

Not simply sharing space with Dean, not the occasional touches or kisses stolen in motel kitchens or against the Impala after hunts. This. The softness of it. The ease.

The domesticity.

Dean adjusting the blanket over both of them without even looking away from the movie.

Dean rubbing slow circles into his back because he knew Castiel liked it.

Dean letting him steal all the warmth without complaint.

Castiel frowned faintly.

Dean noticed immediately, because of course he did. “What’s going on in that giant angel brain?”

Castiel was quiet for a moment.

Then, softly, “I think I’ve become very comfortable with you.”

Dean’s expression melted into something unbearably tender.

“Well,” he said lightly, “yeah, sweetheart. That’s usually what happens when you’ve been dating somebody for years.”

Castiel ignored the teasing. “No, I mean…” He glanced down at where his hand rested over Dean’s heart. “This feels natural to me now. I did not expect that.”

Dean’s face softened further somehow.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

Castiel was already as close as physically possible, but Dean still tugged him higher against his chest until Cas was half sprawled over him. Dean pressed a kiss into his hairline.

“You know what’s natural to me now?” Dean said quietly.

“What?”

“You being here.”

Castiel looked up at him.

Dean smiled, sleepy and crooked and entirely fond. “Also you stealing all the blankets. Which is impressive considering you literally run colder than humanly possible.”

“I cannot regulate my temperature properly in this vessel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”

Castiel leaned up just enough to kiss him, slow and familiar.

Dean kissed him back with a soft hum, one hand sliding up along his spine.

When they pulled apart, Dean rested his forehead against his for a second before mumbling, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I was under the impression you found me devastatingly handsome.”

Dean grinned. “See? Comfortable. Couple years ago you would’ve stared at me like a confused tax accountant if I flirted with you.”

“That still occurs occasionally.”

“Yeah, but now you flirt back, so.” Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. “Character development.”

[chaoticdean]

Later, when it’s dark outside and Cas is almost entirely asleep, the movie is still playing quietly from Dean’s laptop, though neither of them has changed it in hours.

The bunker has gone silent around them.

Cas is sprawled half on top of Dean now, face tucked into the crook of his neck, one arm heavy across Dean’s stomach. His breathing has gone slow and deep in that way that means he’s right on the edge of sleep, vessel finally relaxed enough to fully rest.

Dean can’t sleep.

Not because he’s anxious. Not because of nightmares or unfinished hunts or the million ugly things usually clawing around in his head.

Just because Cas is here.

Warm and sleepy and safe in his arms.

Dean glances down at him again.

God, he loves this man.

Cas’ hair is a mess from Dean running his hands through it for the last hour, dark strands sticking out in every direction. There’s a faint crease on his cheek from where he’d been pressed against Dean’s chest, and his lips are still slightly swollen from kissing earlier.

Dean feels something painfully soft settle in his chest.

Years ago, he never would’ve imagined this for himself. Not the bunker feeling like home. Not quiet nights. Definitely not this: Cas curled against him in nothing but boxers, trusting Dean enough to fall asleep like he doesn’t have to stay alert for the end of the world.

Dean brushes his fingers carefully through Cas’s hair again.

Cas makes a tiny sound, barely conscious, and instinctively presses closer.

Dean’s heart practically folds in on itself.

“Yeah, okay,” he whispers fondly. “C’mere, angel.”

Not that Cas could physically get any closer, but Dean still shifts him gently higher against his chest and pulls the blanket tighter around both of them.

Cas’ eyelashes flutter.

“You are staring at me,” he mumbles sleepily.

Dean huffs a quiet laugh. “Thought you were asleep.”

“I nearly was.”

“Uh huh.”

Cas squints one eye open just enough to look at him. “Why are you staring?”

Dean should say something sarcastic. Usually he would.

Instead, his hand slides slowly along Cas’s bare back, and he says honestly, “Because I love you.”

Cas goes still for half a second. As he does every single time Dean says the words.

Even half asleep, those words still affect him every time.

Dean watches the sleepy confusion melt into something soft and luminous in Cas’s expression. Like he still doesn’t fully understand how Dean could possibly look at him this way after everything: with so much affection it almost aches.

“There is an 87% chance you are being sentimental because you are tired,” Cas murmurs.

Dean grins helplessly. “And there’s the little shit I fell in love with.”

“I love you too,” Cas says quietly.

Simple. Certain.

Dean looks at him for another long moment after that, unable to stop.

Cas’ eyes are already drifting shut again, completely relaxed against him, trusting Dean to hold him through the night.

The fondness in Dean’s chest feels almost overwhelming.

He presses a kiss against Cas’s forehead and whispers, so softly Cas probably doesn’t even hear it.

“Best thing that ever happened to me.”

[chaoticdean]

Dean was stretched out against the headboard in a pair of worn gray pajama pants, bare skin warm beneath the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp. Castiel was curled against him in nothing but dark boxers, one leg tangled lazily with Dean’s while the laptop balanced dangerously near Dean’s knee played an old movie neither of them had been paying attention to for at least twenty minutes.

Dean carded his fingers absentmindedly through Castiel’s hair.

“You know,” he murmured, “normal couples probably don’t spend date night researching fake FBI badges and eating cold takeout.”

Castiel hummed against his chest. “That is because normal couples are cowards.”

Dean barked out a laugh, the sound vibrating under Castiel’s cheek. “Wow. Okay. Hostile.”

“I’m merely observant.”

“Sure you are.”

The movie exploded into a loud car chase scene. Dean reached over to lower the volume before settling back again, his arm immediately returning around Castiel’s shoulders like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Cas traced lazy shapes over Dean’s stomach with two fingers. “Sam bought oat milk again.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. Man looked me dead in the eyes this morning and said it was ‘creamier.’”

“You were offended for several hours.”

“I’m still offended.”

Castiel tilted his head just enough to look up at him. “You are very sensitive.”

Dean narrowed his eyes fondly. “You say that while cuddling me like a teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cas.”

“I am simply existing near you.”

Dean snorted and squeezed his hip. “Uh huh.”

Castiel let his head settle back onto Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his ear while Dean’s fingers continued combing slowly through his hair. The room felt warm. Safe. Dean smelled like soap and sleep and the lingering traces of coffee.

The realization crept over him quietly.

He had become accustomed to this.

Not simply sharing space with Dean, not the occasional touches or kisses stolen in motel kitchens or against the Impala after hunts. This. The softness of it. The ease.

The domesticity.

Dean adjusting the blanket over both of them without even looking away from the movie.

Dean rubbing slow circles into his back because he knew Castiel liked it.

Dean letting him steal all the warmth without complaint.

Castiel frowned faintly.

Dean noticed immediately, because of course he did. “What’s going on in that giant angel brain?”

Castiel was quiet for a moment.

Then, softly, “I think I’ve become very comfortable with you.”

Dean’s expression melted into something unbearably tender.

“Well,” he said lightly, “yeah, sweetheart. That’s usually what happens when you’ve been dating somebody for years.”

Castiel ignored the teasing. “No, I mean…” He glanced down at where his hand rested over Dean’s heart. “This feels natural to me now. I did not expect that.”

Dean’s face softened further somehow.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

Castiel was already as close as physically possible, but Dean still tugged him higher against his chest until Cas was half sprawled over him. Dean pressed a kiss into his hairline.

“You know what’s natural to me now?” Dean said quietly.

“What?”

“You being here.”

Castiel looked up at him.

Dean smiled, sleepy and crooked and entirely fond. “Also you stealing all the blankets. Which is impressive considering you literally run colder than humanly possible.”

“I cannot regulate my temperature properly in this vessel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”

Castiel leaned up just enough to kiss him, slow and familiar.

Dean kissed him back with a soft hum, one hand sliding up along his spine.

When they pulled apart, Dean rested his forehead against his for a second before mumbling, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I was under the impression you found me devastatingly handsome.”

Dean grinned. “See? Comfortable. Couple years ago you would’ve stared at me like a confused tax accountant if I flirted with you.”

“That still occurs occasionally.”

“Yeah, but now you flirt back, so.” Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. “Character development.”

[tumblr]

destiel would find each other in every universe

[profoundbondfanfic]

Leave a Light On

Leave a Light On by chaoticdean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 95k

Philadelphia, 2020. Dean Winchester has been working as a detective for years, and he’s tired. Bone-tired, burnt out and carrying the weight of an alcohol issue he refuses to acknowledge. He’s also a husband and a father to 3 kids, even though lately he’s been forgetting that part. Castiel Novak has been an attorney for the better part of the last decade, and Dean’s husband for 15 years. And he’s tired—tired of carrying the weight of his family on his own; tired of fighting so his marriage doesn’t crumble. It all comes to a head when Marla Ashford’s case explodes: she's a candidate for the next mayoral campaign, and when her deputy fundraiser is killed, she asks Cas to defend her. Unfortunately, Dean is the lead detective on the case… And neither of them plans on letting go. Between arguments, kids being way too perceptive, and Dean’s issues with alcohol, what could go wrong? This is a story about a family fighting to stay whole while the world explodes around them; a high-stakes domestic drama and legal thriller rolled into one. One where Dean’s fight with alcohol becomes the center of everything, and they could lose it all. Can they make it to the end of the line together?

If you're looking for a fic that is both fluffy and angsty that you can really sink your teeth into, look no further! This fic has all of the angst, emotion, and eventually happy ending that you could ever hope to find! I'm always a fan of fics that show how devoted our boys are to each other under any circumstances, and this fic definitely delivers.

The fic starts out with Dean and Cas in a terrible place. Dean is a detective struggling with alcoholism and barely clinging on while Cas is a lawyer trying to hold their family together. They're distant and when they find themselves on opposite sides of a murder case, it seems as though their whole domestic existence will fall apart.

There is heartbreak and angst on both sides, as Dean has to confront his mistakes and just how far he's driven Cas and his family away, and Cas has to try to hold their family together while still worrying about Dean. But at no time do Dean or Cas ever falter from how much they love and care about each other. There's a realistic look at Dean's rehabilitation and the difficulties that come with it--there is no magical healing, Dean has to put in the work and make a conscious choice to get better -- but seeing all the work that Dean and Cas both put into their relationship makes their eventually happy ending all the sweeter.

[chaoticdean]

cas, all snuggled up into dean’s entire side in bed, groaning because dean wont stop randomly drawing patterns across the skin of his side and he’s so tired but dean’s so good to him

“you’re giving me a boner”

“is that supposed to be a bad thing?” dean responds with cockiness all over his voice

cas just grumbles, readjusts himself even further into dean and burries his face into the crook of dean’s neck, where it smells like home

“i love you” he whispers after lining up kisses across dean’s neck

“mhm love you too honey” dean says back, turning his head to place a kiss against cas’ forehead

[cassierobinsons]

ngl the reason why i care less and less for repressed dean with every passing day is because sometimes people have more going on than being sad about being gay. like obviously no one is totally immune to the homophobic environment they grew up in but i think it gets to a point where people ignore the genuinely traumatising shit dean goes through specifically to write condescending posts about how stupid he is for not coming out and i just. what if snuck into your house and shredded your shoes.

[cassierobinsons]

like idk what to tell you. sometimes a guy gets tortured for 30 years then becomes a torturer for 10 more and the whole beating yourself up for liking men thing feels a little quaint.

[chaoticdean]

one day cas gets irrationally mad because his angel aura or whatever makes him win at all the games on his phone and dean has never laughed harder at anything cas said in his entire life