Castiel is talking, explaining what he is doing as his hands gently work to get one of his plants out of the pot it has outgrown to transfer it to a bigger one. The old one is chipped, it's color faded after months under the sunlight and the rain, Castiel will probably repaint it, buy another plant he will then complain about not having any space for. The new one is blue, it's a nice shade of it, but not Dean's favourite one.
Dean is watching him, but he is not registering a single word. He is usually way more invested in Castiel and whatever he has to say but the wind is distracting him.
It's ruffling the leaves of the plants in Castiel's garden, they call it that even if it's just a few potted plants in the ledge of the window they have in their kitchen.
Dean remembers it was windy too that day, the tall grass and the colorful flowers around him swinging in the wind as it took away with it what was left of Castiel, taking his ashes from one last flight, taking him away from Dean.
That very same wind is right now messing Castiel's hair, in the same way Dean's loving, playful, fingers usually do. It can't take him away now, though.
He notices Castiel isn't speaking anymore so he lowers his gaze from his hair to his face. His nose is scrunched up and he is looking down at his gloved hands, with all that dirt stuck to them from the pots. The smell coming from the soil is so familiar to Dean, earthy and damp, alive. He likes being able to connect it to other memories, away from the cold, from the blood and the rush of a hunt, to this instant of common domesticity.
He laughs when he finally realizes the issue Cas is clearly having, "oh man," he chuckles.
He refuses to let the darkness take away this moment from him, from them, it has taken enough from them as it is,
" I bet dealing with an itchy nose when your hands aren't free is going to the top of your human inconveniences list, right between frequent urination and burning your tongue because your coffee is still too hot."
Castiel does have that list, Dean found out he has another one too, the one that contains all the advantages to humanity. He had asked about it once, jokingly wondering if orgasms where the first thing on the list.
It turns out it was growing old with Dean.
He never asked about the rest of the list.
He reaches out for Castiel's nose, scratching it lightly, getting a thankful smile in return, one that rivals the light and the warmth of the Sun shining above them. He leans forward, kissing the tip of Cas' nose.
When he moves back, raising his hand to rest it in the small of Cas' back, Castiel goes back to what he was doing, still smiling, he is talking again, Dean listening closely, only losing focus for the moment it takes him to rub Cas' back before using his hand to comb his hair back, away from his eyes.
— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...
Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)
It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)
I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️🩹 — 👼 angel anon
Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader
Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.
Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 3.9k
A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333
Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.
It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food.
Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way.
“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it.
“Cas, honey. What happened?”
“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?
Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.
“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time.
“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.
Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.
“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected.
“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.”
“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”
“Well, a few days now.”
“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?”
“I had a candy bar.”
“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily.
Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported.
“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs.
As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.
“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.
You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel.
“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement.
With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you.
That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.
“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs.
“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.”
Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him.
Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.
“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug.
After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.
-
You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup.
As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.
“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.
“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today.
“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.
“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.
“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”
“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.”
“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”
“How will that help?” He inquired.
“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”
His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed.
“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”
You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself.
“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”
Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.
“How do I know if I like it?”
You thought for a moment.
“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”
He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.
As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn.
-
Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine.
As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice.
“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.
“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Hmm?”
“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”
There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him.
“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.”
“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.
“Want to know a secret?”
He nodded, silently, eagerly.
“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.”
“How do I know what to choose?”
You smiled in spite of yourself.
“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.”
Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.
-
Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it.
At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.
“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.
“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.
“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.
“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.
“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Take your time. I’m here.”
There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms.
“Maybe, distracted?”
“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum.
You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time.
“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.
“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea.
“How are you doing?”
“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly.
“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself.
“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face.
“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.
“What do you mean?”
“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.
He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.
“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.
He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.
-
There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself.
The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet.
There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.
Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.
Title of fic: Heart of the Home
Author: @illusionremember
Artist: @adromelke
Pairing: Destiel
Fic Summary:
Dean Winchester died over 200 years ago. He has watched over the family farm ever since. As a household deity, he’s more than a mere ghost, a guardian to his family and home. But after decades of neglect, Dean is on the verge of fading away. Real estate developers circle the property like vultures, leaving Dean on his last chance.
Castiel Novak has just been disowned by his religious family. He moves into a 1700s New England farmhouse; it’s in need of some work, but it’s nothing he can’t handle… even if, as he suspects, it is haunted by a former resident. As Castiel gets back in touch with his magic, and works on restoring the house, maybe it’s not too late for him to save someone after all.
Maybe together, they can take this crumbling old house and turn it back into a home.
Snippet:
He needs this fresh start. He needs his own space, even if that space is in poor shape, even if that means sleeping on an air mattress and breathing in old-carpet-stink and having no furniture for a bit.
It will be worth it in the end. He just needs to hold to that.
A small draft of fresh air hits his face. He had opened up some of the windows to try and air out the smell, but there hasn’t been much of a breeze today. Outside, the sun is starting to set, the air finally cooling. He can hear a chickadee making its evening call somewhere in the orchard. Castiel pauses, listening.
He thinks of the cold fireplace. The hand-worn banister on the stairs, the quiet empty rooms upstairs. The letters, carved into the header of the kitchen fireplace. The house creaks softly as it settles. The house is listening to him right back.
“Hello,” he says to the empty room. “My name is Castiel. I fix houses. I’m… hoping to call you home.”
There’s a beat, where all is quiet. And he feels a little silly, perhaps. And he wonders again if this is all a mistake.
He hopes, at least, that he can make some difference here. Castiel takes a deep breath, telling himself he can do this.
A warmth suffuses him, in spite of the cool, fresh air on his face. The house feels like it’s welcoming him home.
I really wish Cas had been human a while longer and been able to stay at the Bunker.
Dean teaching him how to be human would have been so SO good
And listen, I love Dean teaching Cas the romantic human stuff as much as anyone. but I think even better would be all the weird human stuff.
Because, c’mon those two are already so goddamn weird together anyway.
Like, explaining to Cas about 'all that crusty eye gunk' he'll get after a bad night's sleep. Or like, about blowing his nose (Cas's nose does that whistling thing one day and it nearly drives Dean crazy). Showing him how to clip his nails without catching his skin. How to cure the hiccups.
Cause like. Cas knows humans are weird. But he's never had to experience that weirdness firsthand before.
Also it doesn't occur to either of them that Sam could be teaching Cas any of these lessons.
If anyone is going to teach Cas about the weirdness of the human body of course it's gonna be Dean.
