It's not him; no one ever comes close to him. But for one night, maybe, maybe Dean can pretend. The man's voice is wrong, when he says hello, sitting down on the stool next to Dean. It's not deep enough, it's not gravelly enough, but he's friendly enough, his smile is sincere, and his interest is more than genuine.

Valentine's Day is a Class A joke. And no one is going to convince Dean Winchester otherwise. Destiel fluff.

Alone on his birthday, with a fresh new mark on his arm, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Besides, who really cares if he's another year older?

The place was huge and cavernous, shelves and racks as far as the eye could see. "What is this place, Dean?" "This, Cas," Dean said, that genuine smile lighting up his face again, "Is the answer to all of our problems." (end!verse)

Dean touches a small wooden horse statue in the bunker's storeroom and is de-aged to a newborn. Sam and Cas decide to raise him the best they can. (One-shot for the Destiel Ficlet Challenge on tumblr.)

Down down down, the Pacific sparkling sapphire below, and he was going to hit too fast, it was going to hurt, there was no way around it, and as he spiraled faster and faster towards the drink, Lt. Castiel Novak was sure these moments would be his last. (WWII Au, kinda Destiel-y)

Something awful brought Dean Winchester - er, Smith - to Baltimore, but no one knows what it is. He's seen through the eyes of the people who get to know him, especially the blue eye boy who'll capture his heart. (eventual Destiel, and the slowest of slow burns)

Cas and Dean have been through much together; they got married, expanded their businesses, dealt with health scares and the ups and downs of making a relationship work. Now expecting their first child, life is busy and happy for both of them. One drunk driver and tragedy hits the Winchesters hard. Dean's entire world is upended in one night, and he needs Cas more than ever. Destiel

Castiel was graceful and elegant in the way he moved around the wide open space, stretching and pirouetting, legs and arms extended. They'd failed to warn Dean of how beautiful he was.

Several months ago, after Sam had said yes and before Dean had almost died of the flu, Cas had been out there, on the edge of Camp Chitaqua, listening, listening, trying hear anything, and he'd felt a whisper, a brush of grace against his consciousness. It had terrified him, shook him to his very core, because that voice, that grace - he hadn't felt it in thousands of years.

Dean. Such an unassuming, everyman name. A name that referenced blue collars and grease under nails, a mechanic, or a handyman, a regular, ordinary man. But there was nothing ordinary about this man. He was beautiful, in ways Cas's brain couldn't even begin to comprehend. He'd met him in a coffee shop.

Word of the week Challenge, word is Mom. Two separate drabbles, one with Sam and Jody Mills, the other with Dean.

Three fine little goats wish to move on to greener pastures. But, there's an ugly red eyed troll standing between them and the grass. (Fairy Tale AU)

Best friends, they grew up together, and the people of their village blended their names into one word, Deanancas. But, when Dean is captured by the foul witch Abaddon, it's up to the young angel to save him. (Fairy Tale AU) (Destiel)

Dean spent most of his time cultivating a careful façade of stoic bravery. Castiel could tear that apart with a few simple words and touches. (Endverse series, one fic for each month of 2014)