#the way cas follows dean with his eyes and shoulder

[hollybell51]

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?” 

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful. 

“(Y/N)?” 

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine. 

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?” 

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?” 

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added. 

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.” 

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.” 

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression. 

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly. 

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once. 

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink. 

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily. 

You smiled. “Lemonade.” 

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently. 

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter. 

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly. 

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.” 

Despite yourself, you laughed. 

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.” 

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.” 

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left. 

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them? 

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.” 

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you. 

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?��� 

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing. 

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing. 

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him. 

“It is.” 

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.” 

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.” 

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright” 

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking. 

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you. 

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.” 

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?” 

“No, we’ve got two singles.” 

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.” 

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.” 

“I know, but–” 

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.” 

“What’s that supposed to–” 

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.” 

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed. 

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.” 

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant. 

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you. 

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.” 

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched. 

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault. 

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab. 

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly. 

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.” 

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.” 

“Should I keep going?” 

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad. 

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead. 

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.” 

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.” 

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you. 

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?” 

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer. 

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).” 

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. 

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his. 

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade. 

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound. 

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright. 

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it. 

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.” 

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses. 

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing. 

He looked up, frowning. “What?” 

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.” 

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside. 

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive. 

You nodded. “Are you?”  

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters. 

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused. 

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips. 

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering. 

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.” 

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” 

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed. 

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.” 

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.” 

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away. 

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?” 

He nodded. 

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he murmured. 

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him? 

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him. 

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. 

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.” 

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?” 

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked. 

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.” 

He stared. “Do you want to?” 

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath… 

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?” 

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.” 

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you. 

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life. 

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?” 

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?” 

“Mhm.”  

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that. 

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful. 

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake. 

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.” 

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning. 

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before. 

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to. 

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that. 

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out. 

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…” 

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled. 

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.” 

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes. 

“Mhm?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

“Alright?” 

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.” 

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip. 

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat. 

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?” 

You smiled. “Magic word?” 

“Please,” he practically growled. 

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute. 

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.  

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.” 

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair. 

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.” 

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless. 

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.” 

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright. 

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face. 

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting. 

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?” 

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?” 

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.” 

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.” 

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning. 

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Mhm.” 

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body. 

“Mhm.” 

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most. 

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.” 

“I want you to feel–” 

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?” 

“But I’m–” 

“Cas.” 

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch. 

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you. 

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.” 

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy. 

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit. 

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves. 

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked. 

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Yes, Cas, just like that.” 

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.” 

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly. 

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good? 

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully. 

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?” 

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing. 

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said. 

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you. 

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine. 

Cas froze immediately. 

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.” 

“Is this not–” 

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs. 

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small. 

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. 

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.” 

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.” 

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged. 

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable. 

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.” 

“I don’t want to squash you.” 

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.” 

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?” 

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out. 

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.” 

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed. 

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock. 

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours. 

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?” 

He swallowed, his eyes dark. 

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.” 

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide. 

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time. 

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?” 

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name. 

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.  

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that. 

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs. 

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!” 

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra. 

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer. 

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm. 

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment. 

“Hm?” 

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.” 

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be. 

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch. 

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat. 

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed. 

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?” 

After a moment, he nodded. 

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again. 

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.” 

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?” 

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty. 

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.” 

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.” 

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him. 

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much. 

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile. 

“Hello.” 

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.” 

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.” 

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully. 

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…” 

He waited, watching you stumble over your words. 

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.” 

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang. 

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen. 

“What do you want?” you growled. 

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?” 

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.” 

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?” 

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked. 

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden. 

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt. 

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.” 

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”  

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.” 

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question. 

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier. 

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point. 

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!” 

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. 

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing. 

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.” 

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam? 

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck. 

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.” 

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. 

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?” 

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything. 

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.” 

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.” 

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.” 

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared. 

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” 

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.” 

“No? Who else?” 

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now. 

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.  

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.” 

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all. 

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas. 

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.” 

“No, I mean–” 

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.” 

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?” 

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug. 

Cas frowned. “Told him what?” 

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!” 

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.” 

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?” 

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas. 

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.” 

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.” 

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?” 

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.” 

“Mhm, back at Stanford–” 

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.” 

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.” 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.” 

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly. 

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back. 

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.” 

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

#cas x reader #fem!reader #smut #supernatural #castiel #cas #castiel spn #castiel x reader #castiel x you #cas x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #spn #shameless smut #castiel smut #pwp fic #friends to lovers #only one bed #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Guardian Angel

Castiel x Winchester child!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Castiel gets to know the Winchester’s little sister

Sam and Dean had a tendency to be cautious around new people. A tendency, they were noticing, that was not passed on to their little sister.

At least not where a certain angel was concerned.

“Why is the sky blue?”

“Because blue light travels in shorter waves than other light, so it’s scattered more than other colors, and therefore blue is the color you see most often in the sky,” Dean looked up to see you, the edge of Cas’s trench coat gripped in your small fist as you followed him around.

“Ok. Why is grass green?”

“Because of the pigment chlorophyll in the leaves and stems.”

“Ok. Why is-“

“Baby, how about we leave Castiel alone,” Sam scooped you into his arms, carrying you to his bed in the dingy motel room.

“I wanted to ask him more questions!” You protested.

“Yeah well, you’ve asked him enough for now, it’s bed time.”

After Sam put you to bed, he stepped over to his angel friend.

“Thanks Cas,” he sighed. “You kept her occupied for quite a while.”

“It was my pleasure,” Sam was surprised at the sincerity in Cas’s voice. “She has some very good questions.”

“Cas?” Sam sighed at the sound of your voice, but Castiel stopped him as he stepped towards you.

“I’ve got her, you had some research to do, right?”

Sam glanced at you, before looking back at the angel. There weren’t many people he trusted with you, and just because you liked Cas didn’t mean that Cas was safe; the angel thing was all relatively new to Sam.

“Cas?” Your voice came again.

“Yeah, alright,” he finally decided. “But I’m right over here if you need anything.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Cas made his way over to your bedside. “Hello, little one. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“Can you sing?”

Cas glanced self consciously over at the Winchester brothers, but they were engrossed in research.

“I…have the ability, yes.”

“No, I meant like now. Can you sing me a song?”

“I…I suppose. If it would help you sleep.”

You grinned and settled back against your pillow as Cas began to sing softly.

You were asleep in minutes.

…

“Castiel? Cas, I have a question.”

“He’s probably busy, why don’t you-“

“What was your question?”

Dean jumped in surprise when Castiel appeared suddenly next to him.

“Why can’t we see your wings?”

“I don’t often show them, as it would be counterproductive to my attempts to appear human.”

“Oh.”

“Was that all?” Dean could tell Castiel was eager to return to wherever he’d come from, but he hid it well from you.

“Yeah,” Castiel stiffened in surprise when you ran up to him and hugged his leg. “Thanks, Cas.”

“I…you’re very welcome.”

And just like that, he was gone.

…

“Castiel?” You curled your legs into your chest. “Cas, I-“ your voice broke, struggling to escape past the lump in your throat. “Cas please come. Please.”

“I really don’t have time for questions now, I’m sorry, I-“ Castiel stopped when he got a good look at you. “Little one, what is it?”

“S-Sam and Dean were supposed to be back by now,” you couldn’t hold back your tears, but you were managing to hold back your sobs. “And-and they won’t answer their phones, and-“

“Hey, hey,” Castiel placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, worried when your tears increased and your breathing labored. “I’m sure they’re just in the middle of a hunt. They’ll call when they’re on their way home, I’m sure.”

“I’m scared,” the fragility in your voice broke Castiel’s heart.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Castiel knelt by your bed and looked you in the eye. “Your brothers are very strong, and they’ll do anything to make it back home to you.”

“W-will you stay until they come back?”

“Of course I will,” Castiel promised. He was surprised when you launched yourself forwards and into his arms, but it only took him a moment before he reciprocated, holding you as though you might break.

“Thank you, Cas.”

“Any time, little one.”

Sam and Dean returned home a few hours later to find you fast asleep in the arms of your favorite angel.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #castiel #Castiel Winchester #castiel x reader #castiel x child!reader #castiel x winchester!reader

[zepskies]

Hey, I’ve really enjoyed reading your imagines. Would you be up for writing one where either Dean / Solider Boy / Beau, I don’t mind, has done something to upset/piss off the reader and goes out his way to make it up to her and then it’s all fluffy? I’m definitely in the readers position right now and hoping that’s what’s happening! Thank you.

Hey lovely anon!

Ooh this is interesting. So you didn't exactly ask for this, but this is where my mind went. I really enjoyed doing an imagine called "How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars."

So I'm going to do this one in that style...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, fluff

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would make up for pissing you off.

Dean Winchester

Readers of Devour Me will recognize this scenario...

Dean can be an asshole sometimes. He knows it, but that side of him tends to come out along with his protective side.

He gave you...what you would consider a "firm suggestion" on a hunt. In his mind, it was a warning you were meant to follow: hang back.

The vampire nest was bigger than you guys expected.

You jumped in to save the woman they were keeping chained...but she was already drained dry. A vamp caught you, but before you could swing your knife, hot teeth sank into your neck.

Your scream rang through the air, tearing from your throat.

Dean's machete soon followed, killing the vampire and saving you in the process. He hid the depths of his worry. His fear, when he heard your scream, saw the monster bearing on you.

He buried the true depths of that turmoil and later holds you while Cas heals you. You thank him with a sigh and look up at Dean. Before you can apologize for ignoring his warning, his words simultaneously cut you to the bone and spark a blaze:

"I hope you learned your damn lesson," he says.

"Excuse me?" you hotly reply.

"You fucking heard me! When I say 'hang back,' I mean it. Hang the hell back."

"I've been hunting long before I met you, Dean."

"Yeah, well. Color me surprised that you've made it this long."

And that sparks the knock-down drag-out fight you and Dean have in the dirty, blood-splattered barn in the middle of nowhere. Even Sam and Cas are uncomfortable in the midst of you and Dean as they deal with the bodies of the vamps.

You don't let Dean touch you that night, even though you two still share the same bed. You sleep turned away from him, curled in on yourself.

He doesn't know how to make you understand. The sight of you with blood covering your neck and shoulder, running down over and under your shirt...

He hates it more than anything.

Even in the morning, the memory of your scream rings in his ears.

You've woken up before him, leaving your side of the bed empty. He wanders into the kitchen and finds you with your cup of coffee, stirring the creamer in for far too long. He watches you for a moment. He sees you're lost in thought. Maybe your eyes are a bit haunted.

He hates that too.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets. His voice is still a deep rumble, but his gentleness is an olive branch.

You recognize that, and your own features soften. The truth is, you're too upset and spent to be angry anymore. You really just need him back.

He guides you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and sighs.

"...Look, I'm sorry," he says. He's grateful, even for this moment. Because it means you're safe, with him.

"I'm sorry too," you reply. You squeeze him tighter and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."

Dean hesitates. His heart clenches, both with warmth and the fear of what could have been. He lets out another deep breath as his fingers soothe through your hair.

"Love you too."

Beau Arlen

Don't let that adorable scruff fool you. Beau has his moments, just like everyone else...

You don't want to feel like the jealous "other woman." Because that certainly isn't what you are.

You and Beau have been dating for a while now. You know this is something special. He is special. A big-hearted man who leads by example, and makes his daughter a priority in his life.

You admire that more than anything. You've come to love Emily as well...

However, he's been consistently cancelling on you. Dates you'd planned, dinners you'd made, "office picnics" at the precinct that got rain-checked more than the goddamn weather channel.

It seems like any time you and Beau try to carve out a moment for each other, it gets waylaid by something that "just can't wait."

Sometimes it's due to the demands of his job (which you understand).

But more often, it's because he seems to drop everything to heed his ex-wife's requests, large and small. From moving boxes in downsizing her house, to picking up her dry cleaning.

Carla always laces her requests (demands) with something understandable, like dropping off Emily at school. As a lawyer, she's smart like that.

But you're smart too, and you see her game.

She's slowly but surely wrapping Beau around her finger, and it's driving you insane.

"Can't you see she's manipulating you?!" you finally ask him. Your hands gesture widely, your brows are knitted together, and so are Beau's. His mouth is pressed in a line.

"The hell do you mean?" he asks.

"Exactly what I'm saying," you retort. "She asks you to jump, and you say, How high, darlin'?"

Part of him wants to smile at your exaggerated Texan approximation of him. But mostly, he's irritated.

"That's not true! I'm just trying to do right by her. She's the mother of my kid--"

Your hand presses against your forehead.

"I know that, Beau. Of course I do," you say. Against your will, your deepest fears take hold. They make you feel ugly inside for thinking them, let alone saying them.

"But...either she wants you back, or maybe you want her."

Beau's frown deepens. "What? What're you talkin' about."

He tries to grab your hand, but you evade him. You cross your arms to give you the excuse you need to hold yourself together.

He blows out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. "She left me, remember?"

"Things change. Feelings change," you say hotly. Your eyes run over his face, as if trying to search his heart.

Beau finally understands just what you're thinking. He softens.

And then his expression firms.

"Not for me," he says.

He reaches for you. You allow him to grasp your elbows. He steps closer into your line of vision until his broad frame is all you can see, but you refuse to look up at him. Not until his curled finger prods under your chin, raising your face up to his.

His face lacks the jovial nature he usually carries, with a side of teasing that usually drives you crazy and lightens your heart in equal measure.

No. Right now, he's serious. His thumb grazes your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Your eyes are lowered, with unshed tears swimming in them. Until Beau presses his lips to your cheek. Your eyes close, and you take in the tenderness of his touch. The smell of his cologne.

When you next open your eyes, he's smiling softly down at you. It leads you to smile a little.

"It'd be nice if you didn't cancel on me so much then," you can't help but mutter, a bit petulantly.

Beau's smile slips a bit. "I sure am sorry about that. And I'll talk to Carla. But uh..."

The rest of his good humor fades. "She mentioned something about taking Emily back to Houston."

Your eyes widen. Your hand moves to grip his wrist. "What?"

"I guess I was just...tryin' to butter her up a bit. If she settled in that new house, had everything she needed, maybe she'd stop thinking about leaving," he admits. "I want her to do what's best for Emily, but...I don't know if I can take it if she's in a whole other state."

You bite your lip. You try to soothe him with your fingers carding through his hair. You pull him into your embrace, and the roles of comfort reverse.

"You do need to talk to Carla," you say. "But I want to help, in whatever way I can. You just let me know."

You can't see it, but Beau smiles as he holds you a fraction tighter.

"You already are."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ugh, this (lovable) bastard...

There are a lot of opportunities to piss you off, and Ben has a habit of taking them.

He's protective, misogynistic (though you're surely trying with him), and doesn't give two shits about modern social protocols like tolerance and respect.

Nor does he give a fuck about being "nice" or "pleasant" if he doesn't want to. (And he never wants to.)

When he pisses you off, however, you have to pick your battles.

You're as patient as you can be with him, knowing all of his idiosyncrasies and foibles as well as you've come to learn them.

But when he nearly snaps a man's arm off for grabbing your ass in a musky club, you have to draw the line.

(Ben settled for jabbing the man in the face, hard enough to toss him back into an entire row of glasses. You'd winced at the man's scream of pain as glass shattered into his back.)

When you send your boyfriend a look, he's both unfazed and unapologetic.

"What, would you rather have that greasy fuck pawing all over you? No one's gonna have the balls to cop a feel right in front of me, unless they want 'em shoved up their ass."

You make a face of disgust, roll your eyes, and angrily storm out of the club. Ben follows you, now getting just as irritated. He grabs your arm and turns you around.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he demands. You raise a brow.

"Not everything is an affront to your manhood," you reply testily. "Are you really protecting me, or is it just your petty pride that another man would dare touch what's 'yours?'"

You turn to walk away from him, but he grabs you again. This time by the hand. He barely resists the urge to yank you back.

No, Ben waits for you to choose. To turn back to him. You're frowning in your anger, but even he can see the thread of hurt deep down. The fear that his motivations are only selfish.

His jaw ticks. But he sighs through his nose. "Come 'ere."

Reluctant though you seem, you take a chance in drawing back into him. His arms circle around you, with those heavy hands splaying across your lower back. He cages you securely against him and looks down you. His eyes are a fraction softer.

"You are mine," he says. "I'm not gonna let these cocksuckers forget it. Because I've got plenty of enemies who'd do more than just touch you."

It sucks to be reminded of that fact, but it's the cold reality. Still, you soften, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

He's trying to send the world a clear message: he won't tolerate bullshit, of any kind. Least of all with you.

That, you can appreciate.

And you lean up to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

Knowing Ben, it doesn't stay sweet for long.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Lots of angst diverted into hurt/comfort and fluff, there.

Do you guys like these Dean/Beau/Ben "reacts?" Let me know! 😉

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#ask me stuff #how they'd make up for pissing you off #How Dean Beau and Soldier Boy/Ben react #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #beau arlen x you #beau arlen imagine #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy #soldier boy imagine #supernatural #spn #big sky #the boys #zepskies answers

[girls-alias]

On His Lap P2

Title: On his Lap Part 2 Words: 2,576 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: SMUT, strong language. Unprotected sex.

Prompt:

Requested a part 2 💟 @spider-rach

SMUT! LAST WARNING:

"What room is it?" Sam asked, grabbing my attention. I saw Dean smirking out of the corner of my eye clearly happy he had distracted me.

"Ugh," I quickly looked at the key. "17," I explained as I threw him a key. He thanked me as he and Cas started making their way to the room. I smiled innocently at Dean as he made no attempt to move. I turned to follow them but Dean's hand grabbed my wrist lightly, stopping me from leaving. I looked at him confused as he smirked. Licking his lips before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. I watched mesmerising, paralysed by the sight.

His eyes moved to my chest, I scoffed about to playfully call him a pig but was silenced as his hand ventured down the neck of my shirt and the back of his hand lightly grazed my left breast. I gasped, hand in a fist as I prepared to punch him in the face. I don't know why it bothered me so much, I just didn't think he would do it so out in the open where anyone could see us, especially Sam and Cas. I realised instantly, wincing internally as he pulled his hand from my bra, one of the other motel room keys in his hand as he smirked at me widely. I groaned as he looked proud of himself.

"See you in ten minutes," He winked before walking away, going to the second room rather than the one Sam and Cas had entered. I gulped as I watched him. He strutted with confidence. I stood, dumbfounded the entire time he went to the room. I gawked at him as he stepped into the room, looking back at me with a smirk before pulling his shirt over his head, clearly giving me a show before closing the door. My jaw was definitely on the floor. We flirt, we joke, today he touched me and now he's waiting in the room for me. I should just go to the room, who cares about making excuses for Sam and Cas. That specimen of a man is waiting for me.

I bit my nail as I thought, I'm just going to go. I shrugged beginning to make my way to the room.

"Y/N?" Cas' innocent voice startled me. I turned around smiling at him. "Aren't you coming in?" He asked standing in the doorway of room 17. I chuckled softly.

"Dean went to get coffee so I was going to help him in case he couldn't carry them," I lied. Cas looked at me confused.

"Why wouldn't he be able to carry them?" He asked, I smiled to hide my annoyance with his interrogation.

"You know, he only has two hands there's 4 coffees," I tried.

"Why would he get 4? I don't drink coffee, I don't drink anything," I rolled my eyes, mentally begging for the strength to handle this right now.

"We thought it was mean to leave you out, just go inside," I explained faking a big smile.

"But-"

"Go inside, Cas. We'll be back with the coffees soon," I explained. He was confused but went inside. I pretended to walk in a different direction in case he was watching me but as soon as I was out of sight I ran to the room.

I opened the door slowly, peaking my head in slightly. I yelped when I noticed Dean had waited at the door, he pulled me in and forced the door shut. He pushed me against the wall, finding my wrists in the movement and held them above my head on the wall. I gulped as he admired me, his eyes hungry as his breath was quick. He clicked the door lock with a smirk, and he placed his free hand on my cheek, leaning in to connect our lips. He moved his hands from my wrist, sliding his hand down my arm, my side and landing on my waist to pull my hips to him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His warm skin comforted me.

His tongue entered my mouth as he deepened the kiss, I softly moaned into his mouth as he gripped my waist. He smiled against my lips before bending down slightly and grabbing the back of my legs. "Jump," He instructed, quickly breaking the kiss. I jumped into his arms as he caught my weight and held me to his hips. His lips eagerly reconnected to mine. My breath quickened as he pressed me against the wall, his hands on my ass as he held me up easily. God, he's strong.

His lips moved from mine to trail down my jaw and neck. I moaned, my head dropping back as he placed open-mouthed kisses on my neck. My legs automatically clenched, and he grinned against my skin. "I bet you're soaking wet already," His voice was deeper than normal. I bit my lip as I hummed in agreement. "I'd like to feel for myself," He moved a hand to my back as he backed up so I wasn't against the wall. He continued kissing my neck as he carried me to the bed. He held me close as he lay me down on the bed, still staying close so he was hovering above me, between my legs. He reconnected our lips, kissing me passionately as his hands roam my body. His hand collected the bottom of my shirt, slowly pulling it up. He disconnected our lips only momentarily as he pulled the shirt off of me.

I smiled watching his grin at my shirtless form. God, he's so hot. He came back to my lips, his hand finding my side before slowly moving his hand to behind my back. His skin on mine, his slow movements sent tingles along the skin he touched. He easily unclasped my bra with one hand, I gasped not expecting him to be able to do it but he sat up and smiled at me. He slowly pulled my bra from my body, remaining in eye contact as if he were studying me to check it was okay. As I smiled and moved out of the bra he grinned knowing I was happy. I suppose it's fair that we're both shirtless. I giggled as he threw my bra aside, smirking at me before leaning in. I lifted my chin to kiss him but he pulled his lips away and chuckled at my disappointed expression.

"Tell me to stop if you want," He explained, his hips grinding into mine slightly, I moaned feeling his jeans graze against me. He grinned as he sweetly kissed my shoulder.

"You will never hear me say it," I replied, he chuckled as he pulled away to admire me.

"Good girl," He added as he swooped in to kiss me. His tongue met mine as they danced between our mouths. I moaned at his words. He seemed to smile against my lips. "You like that?" He asked against my lips. I nodded softly not wanting to break the kiss. Dean's hand trailed down my side, his finger catching on the hem of my shorts. He smirked against my lips. My breath seemed to pool in my chest. Anticipation making my hair stand on edge. He pulled away from the kiss, and my body reacted by whimpering before I could even think. He chuckled before connecting open-mouthed kisses to my neck. I dropped my head back as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

Dean smirked against my neck before his hand slipped into my shorts. I gulped, begging him to touch where I craved him most. His fingers explored further, my breath erratic as I craved his touch. I moaned as he finally ran his fingers through my folds, the tip of his middle finger at my entrance. He moaned against my skin, and I moaned hearing him so pleased. "You really are wet," He commented before kissing my neck, biting it a little harshly as his finger slid inside me. I moaned, my back arching up from the bed. He moaned into my neck. He sucked my neck slightly and I breathed in through my teeth knowing he was leaving a hickey. I love hickeys, he's claiming me as his. He curled his fingers once they were deep inside me. I moaned, begging for him to replace them with his dick.

He grinned against my neck. "You're such a good, wet girl," I moaned as his words sent vibrations down my spine before meeting his fingers inside me, he curled and straightened to please me.

"Please, fuck me," I practically begged, my voice coming out in moans as he grinned.

"I didn't think you were the begging kind," He chuckled, his fingers unrelenting. He slowly pulled his fingers from inside me, and I eagerly pulled his lips to mine. Our tongues fought for dominance as I worked on the buckle of his jeans, he grinned against my lips as I undid his jeans and pulled on them to show I wanted them off him. He chuckled as he leaned back, standing up to take them off. I grinned at him as I pulled my shorts and underwear off.

"Eager," He commented but I chuckled as I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up to show I wanted him back to me. I bit my lip as I admired his penis. I could tell it was a great size when I was sat on his lap but my mouth dried seeing it in person. I've never craved someone so much. He leaned in, hovering over me again as his dick met us in the middle. He connected our lips, kissing me eagerly, hungrily. I whimpered as his dick grazed against my entrance. He bit my bottom lip, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head as he tugged on my lip slightly. He looked me deep in the eyes as he released my lip. "I want you screaming my name," I nodded softly as he lined himself up, his tip inside me. I whimpered as I begged him to push deep inside me. He seemed to hesitate to watch my reaction.

"Please," I begged as I wrapped my arms around him to hold his back. He smirked, connecting open-mouthed kisses to my neck as he slowly pushed inside me. I gasped as he pushed deep inside me, I moaned when his hips finally met mine. He bit down on my neck, groaning as he entered me.

"Fuck, you're so tight," He moaned, he slowly pulled out before keeping a slow rhythm as he pushed into me. I moaned, my head tipping back as my back arched. He breathed deeply as his hand found my waist pushing me down into the bed. He continued fucking me, our moans melding together. "Fuck," He commented. His voice alone could cause me to moan but his dick deep inside me and hitting my G-spot was driving me crazy. I never knew sex could feel this good.

Dean rested his forehead on my shoulder as he picked up his pace. I bit my lip to conceal my moans of pleasure. "Scream it, baby," I instantly dropped my lip and moaned a little louder than I expected.

"Fuck, Dean," I moaned, his hand still pushing me into the bed as my body tried to raise from the bed. He grinned against my skin before kissing my shoulder. He seemed to hold me a little higher before his pace quickened. I became a moaning mess, his groans melting with mine as he connected our lips. His tongue entered my mouth as moans vibrated in my throat.

"You're such a good girl, I want you to cum all over me," His lips moved to my ear to tease me. My spine was on edge as he breathed heavily above me. A scream escaped my lips as his tip slammed into my G-spot forcefully. "I want you screaming my name," He added. I screamed a moan as I felt myself building up. My orgasm is ready to tip over the edge.

"Fuck, Dean," I practically screamed as his thrusts never faltered or slowed.

"Just like that, baby," His breath was erratic as his nails dug deep into my side only increasing my pleasure. My eyes rolled back as screamed moans escaped my mouth.

"Dean," I screamed, his pace deepening as he ploughed into me. Fuck me! The months of flirting and not even touching only made this more exciting.

"I can feel you're getting close," He breathed deeply. "Be a good girl and cum on me," I screamed as my orgasm peaked. My body felt possessed as I raised my back, my nails digging into his back. Dean winced as he continued fucking me deeply. I squeezed my eyes shut as he fucked me through my orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I confessed. My orgasm peak not yet fading. I screamed with pleasure as his cum squirted inside me with force. His groans only made my orgasm continue. My vision went spotty, I've never had an orgasm last more than a few seconds.

His nails dripped my skin harshly before he pushed a final and very deep thrust into me. My orgasm subsided as I breathed heavily. Dean practically collapsed on top of me as his breath was quick. He leaned back to grin at me. I chuckled as I smiled, he leaned down kissing me sweetly. He pulled away still smiling before moving to lie down beside me. He opened his arms waiting for me. I giggled as I rolled to my side, hugging him happily. He rubbed random patterns onto my back as I smiled, my head on his chest.

"We should have done that months ago," He commented, I chuckled as I nodded. Why did it take us so long to finally do this? He kissed the top of my head and I could tell he was smiling. "You can say no but do you want to go on an actual date?" He asked, his voice a little nervous. I sat up to look at him, and he gulped, afraid of my answer. I smiled as I admired him.

"The Dean Winchester wants to date?" I asked, he chuckled as he shook his head.

"It's stupid, I shouldn't hav-," He tried but I interrupted him by kissing him.

"Shut up, of course I want to go on a date," I chuckled. He grinned at my words. He admired me, his smile never fading.

"Thank God. I would have cried," He joked. I laughed as I shook my head. "You want to stay here all day?" He asked temptingly. I sighed.

"God, I wish. I told Cas we were getting coffee." I winced wishing Cas had never opened the door and caught me. Dean groaned as he rolled his eyes. I smiled, admiring him. He's so fucking hot. Dean, the hot hunter wants to date me. I could scream with joy. I wish I had female friends to squeal with over this.

"Guess I'll have to sneak you back here later then," He shrugged before kissing me. I giggled into the kiss as his hand found my cheek keeping my lips on his. God, I could do this for hours and from Dean's hands I knew he didn't want to stop any time soon either. Fuck, he's perfect!

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine

[hannibalslillamb]

Suptober Day 9, Starlight

They're driving down a dirt path, hands and boots stained from a recent hunt. Dean's eyes are heavy and he hasn't spoken since they turned onto the highway. Cas sees the tension in Dean's shoulders, the way he slumps with exhaustion.

"Turn off, just here," Cas points to an exit.

Dean's eyebrows lift, but he doesn't question or argue, he turns off onto the winding road.

"There," Cas points to an open field.

They exit the car, Dean's knee cracks as he stretches. His back is stiff from sitting still for too long. Cas does the same, lifts an arm above his head to stretch his stiff shoulders. Dean follows the movement, looking up at the inky black sky.

A spark sizzles out into the air, with a soft wisp of air. Dean gasps and looks to Cas who wears a soft smile. He stretches a hand out to Dean, who takes it and follows him deeper into the field.

Cas waves his hands creating a few more lights that cause the once inky black sky to sparkle. Dean stands transfixed, he doesn't want to blink or breathe out of fear that he'll ruin this little miracle Cas is letting him witness.

"C'mere," Cas tugs his hand softly, settling into the grass with Dean beside him.

Hours pass, or possibly just minutes, Dean can never keep track when he's with Cas. He watches as the light fills the sky and takes in the heat that radiates from Cas, the weariness from another hunt forgotten for a night.

#destiel #destiel fanart #suptober23 #spn fanart #spn #spn art #supernatural #spn fic #my art

[deangirlsstuff67]

Good Girl

MOC! Dean x Reader

Warnings: Praise, sex toys, MOC! Dean, bondage, Unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, anal play, P in V, dirty talk

Summary: Dean and Sam are fighting yet again. You hear glass shatter against a wall, followed by a very angry Sam slamming his door. Feeling brave, you go in search of Dean.

Masterlist | Patreon

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They're at it again. Those two fight worse than a married couple these days. Makes sense given the current situation we all find ourselves living in. I just don't think angering Dean is the wisest choice, he's already on the edge most days. It would take a soft wind to blow him over.

Sadly, your new to hunting, meaning the guys don't listen to you on a good day. Couple years ago Dean and Sam saved your crazy ass when a nest of vampires came to town and killed your family. You are 22 years old and bought the boys enough whiskey at the local bar to make them agree you could come back to the bunker.

Dean tries to avoid you as much as possible. While you don't get the feeling he hates you, you do know you make him uncomfortable.

Sam has taken you under his wing as a little sister. Teachs you the basics of fighting and makes you read lore book after lore book. And in this place I think I'll be dead before I get through it all.

Even Cas has taken a liking to you. He teaches you about angels and you teach him how to be less awkward, it's sort of working.

Glass shattering brings you back to the present.

Well fuck, that can't be a good sign. Moments later heavy, angry foot steps deasend the hallway and a door slams. Sam's door, meaning Dean's still out there... pissed.

With a loud sigh you get out of bed. You're wearing one Dean's flannels and black lacy underwear. You've always had a crush on the older Winchester. Tonight you're hoping the outfit will work like armor. Dean's a ladies man after all, and your not bad looking if you say so yourself.

Slowly and quietly you make your way towards the command center in search of the ticking time bomb known as Dean. This is most definitely a bad idea but you can't stand the thought of him alone with all that rage running through his veins.

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The scene you walk in on saddens your soul. Dean has the bottle of amber liquor sitting beside him as he stares at the wall and broken glass. So lost in his own head he doesn't hear me coming until I'm standing in front of him.

Those bright green eyes rake up and down my body, the farther they travel the darker they become. When he drags his eyes back to mine they are damn near pitch black. Lust sparkling in them.

Oh fuck.

You try to sound strong and confident, but let's face it this man melts you into a puddle at his feet.

"Dean..." your voice is higher than normal, barely above a whisper, "are you o... okay?"

His breathing is labored, coming out in deep puffs that shake his shoulders. To look at him you'd think he was on the verge of murder. But it's his eyes, they tell a very different story.

"That’s my shirt y/n." The way your name rolls of his tongue is dangerous. Sending a warmth straight to your core, making you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together.

His eyes snap down to your soaking core. Shit, he noticed. Of course he did, wouldn't be a good hunter if he didn't have reflexes of a cat.

"I didnt think you'd mind. I need to do laundry. " You go to reach for his hand but he stands abruptly. Without a word he turns to leave the room, and you.

Why Dean.

Not this time. You rush him from behind but your plan back fires. Next thing you know Dean has you pinned against the wall and his hard body. Very hard... ALL of it.

After a couple moments of silence you have to ask, "why do you always run from me?"

A smile curls those perfectly soft lips before he lightly pumps his hips into yours, making his hard cock rub deliciously against your dripping core.

Well fuck, it's not that he hates me, it's that he likes me... a lot.

Now or never y/n.

Feeling brave you look him dead in the eye and ask, "why don't you use some of that pent up anger for some good big guy?" Finishing off by grabbing his cock through his jeans, hard.

Groaning, Dean rips you off the wall and down the hall.

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Bondage. Should have seen this coming in hindsight. The man thrives on control. Even more so now.

Here I am tied to Dean's bed via handcuffs. The beautiful specimen in his black boxers looking down at me as he pushes the small vibrator straight onto my bundle of nerves, again.

"Such a good girl for me. Think you have one more in that tight little pussy for me?" He moves a finger down to the plug he worked into my tight channel and softly taps.

My head is spinning from the previous orgasms he's pulled from my body already, the most I can do is let out a loud moan in answer.

This is a side of Dean I've never experienced before. He's enjoying making me cock drunk. Thriving on the power it supplies him. At least if the ever growing wet spot at the top of his boxers is any indication.

"Beg me sweetheart. Beg for my cock to fill you, stretch you." My eyes are closed but I know he's close. I can feel his hot breath on my cheek as he leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Dean... pl.. please can I.. I have your co.. cock"

"You're sound so pretty when you beg Princess." He lifts the vibrator off my clit just before another orgasm rips through my body. I whimper at the lose making him laugh.

Before I have time to protest my lose, Dean positions himself between my shaking thighs and feeds his rock hard dick into my soaking core.

Groans echo off the walls of his room as we adjust to the feel of each other. He's huge. That big dick cocky energy isn't a lie, the man's packing.

"Y/N you feel amazing wrapped around my cock." Slowly he pulls out until nothing but the tip is left then he slams back in. Handcuffs rattling from the movement.

He takes me hard and fast. Working both of us into a frenzy of moans and whimpers. Soon I'm clamping down on his cock making it harder for him to pull out as I scream his name and flood his member and thighs.

It's all it takes to send him over the edge as he joins me. Rope after rope of warm cum fills my quivering walls. He's Cummings so hard I can feel it begin to leak out of me and down my thighs.

Dean collapses onto my worn-out body. Only moving to undo the handcuffs and bring my arms down to massage as he catches his breath. Once we are back on planet Earth, he eases his soften dick from my abused core, the mixture of us leaking out.

Memorized for a moment, he takes his fingers and gently pushes it back inside me, causing my to whimper.

Dean smiles down at me, satisfied and moves to the bathroom to clean up and bring me a wet cloth. After he's done cleaning us up, he grabs my body and man handles it to a postion of his liking as we cuddle together.

Moments pass in silence before Dean speaks, "thank you. That was exactly what I needed to calm the mark. You're amazing sweetheart."

"Anything for you Dean."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

A soft giggle leaves my lips, "not in a bad way."

Dean sends me a naughty smirk and wink before taking my lips in a passionate kiss.

"Get some rest Princess, I have plans for us when we wake."

It's the last I hear before sleep takes my exhausted body into the land of slumber, dreaming of tomorrow and what awaits me.

#dean girl #dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fanfic #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader

[justroaminground]

heat of the moment (Sam Winchester x Reader)

summary: you have deep feelings for sam and there is this one point where everything just escalates. it ends in hot and rough sex.

warnings: NSFW, smut, 18+, rough language, getting physical, fluff, oral

Enjoy and if there are any requests feel free to leave them. Sorry for mistakes i am sure you get the point. ;) xx

+++++++++++++++

there are no words in the world to describe how you feel about sam. deep down you always felt so calm and safe around him. the feelings slowly but steady got stronger and without being aware he meant..too much? the topics you two had were always very casual and not very deep. just like the ones with dean. the three of you keep a close relationship and it can get emotional, but you tend to keep it light hearted. the hunting itself was serious enough. you've spent quite some time with the two of them now, but started to have very deep feelings for sam. there was no way for you to ever express them to him. love did and always will make things more complicated, so it seems only logical to simply keep them to yourself.

the three of you were sitting in the library of the bunker, reading one book after the other just to understand what lucifers next steps could be or what the heck the current occasions meant. your head pounded and you startet to squint your eyes from time to time, since it felt like your head was about to explode from getting too much information at once.

"ugh..guys i feel like my head is about to explode!" you grunted rushing your hands through your hair.

"literally have been doing this for ages, but I will never get used to it. so i get it pricess." dean sighed.

sam laughed and smirked like an idiot . "well not to be a know-it-all, but i for sure could do this for years! i guess, thank you to the almost started lawyer career!

"i would have loved to see you in a courtroom" you answered cheekily.

before sam was able to answer a cold breeze streaks your body and uncertain you spun around. Unfortunately too quick and knocked a glass from the table.

"Cas!" relieved seeing him a smiled formed on your lips.

castiel bit his lower lip and took a deep breath. "it confuses me how you guys don't get used to me" he stated in a monoton voice sighting.

you rolled your eyes laughing. trying to get up, without standing into the puddle, to clean the mess. you get pushed back down onto the chair and looked up at a warm smile from sam.

"let me get that for you" he pointed onto the mess on the floor and left the library.

insecure you nodded your head and got out of the space so he could clean it up.

"so?! do you have news or simply showed up to make us jump?!" dean pointed out and got up. he leaned at the side of the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

the two of them got into a heavy conversation about the latest news about lucifer pretty quick, but you couldn't really follow. your head still pounded like crazy. you made your way to the kitchen to get some painkillers.

before you got into the kitchen you walked past sam and gave him a little smile.

"everything alrighty?" he checked up on you and eyed you up and down.

you looked at him for a second and let the image of him standing there sink in. the hair falling down on his forehead and hung a bit onto his face. jaw clenched, eyes piercing through you. his broad shoulders and muscular body covered in a dark colored flannel. the strong arms and large hands holding the kitchen cloth. you swallowed hard, but played it cool of course.

"yeah course no worries, just can't see any books no more for today!" you turned your back to him, rubbed your forehead and made it into the kitchen. pressed your lips together and exhaled deeply as you heard him walking away slightly laughing.

"take your time this evening, we will stay at the bunker anyway!" he called back.

you took a pill against the evil pain and made your way out of the kitchen. hearing the three of them talking and you decided to head back to your room.

leaning the door shut, you let your clothes fall to the floor and made your way into your bathroom. since the bunker is so big, everyone of you has their own bathroom. thank god! you wouldn't want to share your bathroom with one of the guys.

dimming the lights in the bathroom you let the water fill up the tube and add your favorite scent. your eyes adjusted and relaxed to the relaxed mood. it has been ages since you took a bath, but need one so desperately. there just never seemed enough time to fully rest, so you always went with the showers. the past few months have been extra rough. not even sleep has gotten you out of the misery.

carefully you slipped into the warm water and let it hug your body. silently hissing and cursing over the pain it gave you when the water reached some wounds or sore spots. finally sitting in there you laid your hands around your body and just let the feeling of calmness sink in.

you may not be feeling the best, but enjoy every second around these guys. cas, dean and sam have been family to you every since. even though there were those feelings about sam you couldn't really get under control. staring at the ceiling your thoughts ran off. the silence was so loud in your head.

you just couldn't help, but think of sam again. how he was standing there. his tall and broad frame. his strong gaze, staring up and down at you with worry in his eyes. he was naturally such a warm hearted person and always made sure each and everyone is okey. taking a deep breath you allowed yourself to sink just a bit more into your thoughts about him.

in your head, you framed him one more time from head to toe. slowly your head falls to the side and you softly stroke along your arm. imagining how it would feel like to touch him. it wasn't like you never touched him, but just never in a deeper..sensual way.

you imagined the same situation from before in your hand. standing in front of him and laying your hand gently on his. softly stroking upwards to his forearm and stopping just above his elbow. feeling his warm skin through the flannel you moved even closer and rested your head on his chest. looking up at him, to make sure he is okey with what you were doing. feeling strong hands wrapping you up safely. you buried your face back into his chest and imagines it so strongly, it felt real.

a well known warmth flowed through you. feeling your body reacting very strong to these thoughts you tensed up, because it felt so wrong feeling all of these things and imagining those situations. getting completely lost in your daydream your body can no longer tell the difference between reality and thoughts.

with that you felt how you were getting aroused, pressing your legs against eachother, sitting up in the tube trying to knock logical thinking back into you mind. "get your shit together" mumbling to yourself you rubbed your eyes.

"AHA! chilling while we're doing the work?!" dean stormed into the bathroom without hesitation and looked at you with a bright smirk on his face.

"WHAT THE HELL DEAN?!" you cried out and some water splashed to the ground. you laughed a bit, but looked back up at him. "i need a break sorry, thought i'd take the night off"

"uh.. I'm sorry just wanted to scare you.." he admits while taking a few steps back. "yeah i get that no worries! sam just told me you weren't seeming okey. i wanted to check up on you."

considering the thoughts you just had, you feelt really uncomfortable. feeling caught in something very private. you were able to feel the heat burn in your checks and looked at dean hoping he would finally leave since scaring you already worked!

"everything is fine just..you know it has been rough" you assured him with a little nod and chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"may i?" he pointed to the bathtube edge.

"yeah sure" you confirmed to him.

settling down next to you he gave you a soft an warm look. you already knew what was about to come, but talks like this were needed here and there.

"sam and i grew up like this. it was always our destiny and it will always be. i told you this many times, but you do not have to do this. you have the choice of having a normal life.." his voice echoing calmly through the bathroom. looking straight in your eyes and making sure you really took in what he just told you.

"dean i choose to do this with both of you. i want to be here. you two are like family to me." trying to explain what is going on in your head you gave him a weak smile and shrugged your shoulders.

while smirking he looked down onto the floor and back at you. he placed a kiss on your forehead and nodded. "stubborn like a winchester."

letting out a laugh you slapped his shoulder and point to the door. "you need to go now! i need some rest from you two idiots! "

dean held up his hands in defense and made his way to the door. "never speak up against a woman" he left the bathroom and closed the door.

letting yourself fall back and sink down into the tube again. silence filled the room and you were able to hear sam and dean talking.

"did she say anything?" sam questioned dean.

"you listened why are you asking?!" dean stated laughing.

"that is not true!" sam defended himself and you laughed out silently. feeling flattered at the fact, sam is checking up on you through dean.

"well ask her yourself." dean insisted.

"dean you know damn well you're having a way better connection to here than i am. she would never open up to me like she does to you" sam explained to dean and you held your breath afraid of not being able to hear everything.

you never really thought about it, but he was right. you kind of kept yourself distanced from sam. being afraid you won't be able to control yourself. showing him too much how you feel about him. so keeping him at distance seemed like the right thing to do.

not wanting to think about all of that anymore you got up and finished the bath with a shower. stopping yourself from listening to the rest of the conversation. making yourself clear again why you are here, here were way more important things to do then to follow your stupid feelings. you pushed them aside like always and distracted yourself.

dressed in a fresh set of pj's you were getting ready for bed. before you left your room you were making sure the hallways are empty and sneaked into the kitchen. you went straight for the kettle to make yourself some goodnight tea. you got disturbed by the other winchester.

"gosh you're still up?" speaking into sam's direction you kept yourself bussy setting up the kettle.

"uh, yeah couldn't sleep yet" he confirmed without looking up from his laptop.

nodding your head, you got back to your kettle and waited until the water was boiling. while preparing your cup and tea you could feel his gaze on your back. you tried to shake it off, but the feeling just got very intense. looking over your shoulder to sam you were looking straight into his eyes.

"would you mind, making me one too?" he asked softly and pointed to the cups.

"course not!" you whispered softly back. kinda disappointed at the fact he was just staring, because he wanted something. you prepared his cup. noticing the teas are empty. you looked for them in the drawer not being able to find one more teabag.

"i think we need to get some. don't find any in here" you told him while searching in the other drawers.

"in the cupboard above the coffeemachine we still have some" sam explained and tipped on his laptop.

"oh right thanks" nodding your head you made your way to the coffeemachine. stretching up to the cupboard trying to reach the pack of teabags.

feeling a warm and strong body right behind yours you completely freez in shock. sam.

"let me get that for you." sam mumbled while reaching up to get them for you.

his body is pressed up against yours which made you grip onto the kitchencounter very aggressively. a wave of heat rolled over your body and you took deep breath. within seconds the body contact stopped and he stepped back handing them to you.

slightly dazed from what just happened you turn to him and took them.

"not everyone was granted to be that tall!" you laughed it off. trying to loosen up the tensed situation you turned to the kettle and took it off the heat.

with a laugh he settled back onto this chair and nods. "well it is curse and blessing" sam spoke up.

you're settling down on the chair in front of him and placed his cup next to his laptop.

"well I think being that tall is always a blessing"

"mhm..help me to understand that?"

"maybe i will find the right words after a good 8 hours of sleep" you laughed and leaned in your chair.

he kept his stupid smirk and looked back down to his laptop and licks his lower lip. you bite down hard onto your molars and followed with your gaze, how his tongue traced along his lower lip. getting to comfortable with watching him like that you nervously got up.

"so i see you're really bussy. don't wanna distract you. i will just head back to my room." bursting out a bit too insecure you pushed the chair back to the table and gave him a tired smile.

"you're not distracting me in any bad way.." he cleared his throat looking at you. "could need a smart head like yours, helping me with these cryptic texts." he pointed to his laptop and nods, pressing his lips together.

"love to solve a good mystery" you confidently talked back and took a seat right next to sam. taking a deep breath you pushed away all disturbing thoughts and settled into working mood.

hours passed by like minutes and you found yourself leaning against the wall sitting on the table and sam walked the kitchen up and down.

"Genesis 3:16 – To the woman he said, “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe;  with painful labor you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.” you repeat the text on the laptop and looked over to sam. "sounds pretty sadistic to me" you added while raising a eyebrow.

"I do not know by any means, why the devil quotes this from the bible and I hope we won't find out." sam let out a exhausted breath while walking towards the table.

"I think you need some rest now, well we do!" you told him while carefully sliding from the table.

"Yeah you're probably right.." sam nodded and smiled.

wanting to make your way to the door, sam grabbed your wrist and softly pulled you into a hug.

"sleep well" he whispers against your hair and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. you buried your face in his chest and inhaled his scent. your body takes in every second, feeling him this close.

"heard you're very tired. take your time and rest." he whispered against your hair and stroke your back. giving yourself completely to him, you can already feel your body craving so much more.

"thank you sam, i will" looking up to him smiling and you buried your face into his chest once again. you left the kitchen heading back to your room. As soon as you got into your room you closed the door desperately.

"holy fuck" you whisper to yourself, locking the door and crawled into bed. at the end of the day you were just human, made of flesh, emotions and consciousness. feeling the need to satisfy yourself you strip your cloths off to the floor and relaxed into bed.

the heat in your body and especially between your legs made you weak. you needed to touch yourself, you had to satisfy your craving. it suddenly felt so hard controlling yourself around sam and you were finally able to give yourself away to those feelings.

your warm hands found their way along your body. stroking it and caring for it. goosebumps crossed your body and a quiet whimper left your lips. imagining those strong hands all over your body you felt your body tens up.

fingers made their way between your legs and fingertips gently stroke your sensitive spot. another quiet whimper left your mouth and your abdomen pressed needy against your fingers.

getting hungry for your orgasm. your thoughts got filthier and your hands rougher. your body winded from one position to the other and literally screamed for more. it was not just your body craving for more, but your soul was begging for more. pressing your face into a pillow you, hunting down your long awaited release. your sweaty body pressed into the mattress, twitching and messed up. you can already feel your walls clench around your fingers.

convulsively you moved two fingers in and out of your wet and heated tightness finding yourself half sitting by now. your head rested on your shoulder and your mouth falls open as you can already feel the heat overcoming you.

"i know now why lucifer quotes the bibel!" fully excited you heard sam knocking on your bedroom door.

full on scared you let out a unexpected scream and your orgasm just vanished. breathing heavy you looked around embarrassed trying to find something to cover up.

"are you okey?!" worried sam knocked one more time on the door and panic arises in your chest.

"sam you scared me! i-i was already asleep what the fuck!" unable to find the right words you stumbled what seems to sound right in this situation and you put you pj's back on.

still breathing heavy you opened up your bedroom door. with flustered cheeks you look up at him. sam stood there only wearing his pj's trousers, shirtless looking at you full on concerned.

"uhm..sure" he raised an eyebrow and eyed you from head to toe. "i didn't mean to..disturb i guess" he added while tracing every detail on your face with his gaze.

"oh shut up, get your ass in here and explain the quote now!" you distracted him from further guessing what you just did and moved back to your bed. cheeks were still burning red from what you just did and to be fair your body still felt kinda weak and your head dizzy.

"i think this can wait until tomorrow. for now you really just need some time off!" sam pointed at you and puts his hand onto his hips.

not really thinking, but just going after your instincts you allow yourself to let your eyes wander along his body. maybe a one time thing won't harm anyone? maybe you will finally realize it's just sex you're in need for and not sam? eyes slowly found their way back up to sam's and you find a very amused grin on his face. your cheeks turned red from zero to ten real quick and you just turned away. it's all or nothing right now right?! whatever you were done with holding it back and decided to let the tiger out.

"no need to be ashamed love. at the end of the day we're all just human." sam filled the silence with this low and soft voice. breaking the carousel of thoughts in your head.

having the strong desire to take control you take a deep breath and moved your body on the bed to the edge. ready to play the game he just started. you bit your lower lip, slightly tilted your head to the side and parted your lips to speak.

"not just, that you're disturbing me while i am enjoying my me-time." you paused to slowly undressing your pj's bottom, to leave you in a oversized shirt, fuzzy socks and a thong. "you dare to come in here with only your bottoms not even wearing a shirt?" sam's face get's from pretty confident to shocked real quick, but that just but's more gas into the fire for you. "how outraged of you to behave like that in front of a woman" taking the soft seam between your fingers and undress your shirt next, which leaves you in only your thong and fuzzy socks in front of him. exposing your body to him. "i am disappointed sammy." the last words leave your mouth as dirty whisper while observing every single facial muscle.

sam is not able to hide his lust in any way. his eyes darkened halfway through your show and his jaw so clenched sonhard, it must be hurting. his dark grey bottoms gave you a very good sight of how hard he got. his clearly visible boner pressing against his sweatpants "never thought that this much of kinky whore sleeps in you, y/n." never in all those years you have heard his voice so deep and raspy, sending shivers through your body. pressing together your tights you couldn't hide a naughty smirk.

"maybe the angels heard my dirty prayers and made them come true." you whispered and gently moved your hips on the bed.

"i don't think the angels work for demons." sam eyed you up and down and bites his lower lip. stroking his boner through his sweatpants he took one step closer to you.

"you're calling me a demon? how can such offending words leave your mouth?" fucking turned on you can't help, but started to stroke your boob with one hand. "i mean i know you're having a sweet spot for demons..sammy"

sam pressed his lips together and it was glas clear you just hit a very sensitive spot. his eyes got darker and it seemed like a switch got flicked. "you sure you wanna play like that? not sure if you can handle that." he turned and checked the hallway to see if dean was somewhere near. he closed the door and locked it, turning back to you.

every step he made you watched him closely. your heart pounded heavy against your chest and you felt tingling in your stomach. "oh..i don't think dean would like the way you're talking to me sammy." with a huge smirk on your face, you bit your lower lip and played with you nipple. a soft moan escaped your lips and your body craved his touch.

"fucking tease, you little whore." he stepped right in front of you and but his hand into your hair at the back of your head. rough but hot he pulls your head back and makes you look up at him. your heart jumped and you couldn't hold the excitement.

"i like your determination. remembers me of the good old days your soul burned in hell." you whispered and placed one hand on his upper stomach slowly making your way down to his waistband. giving him a dirty look while smirking.

he took your hand into his and pushed it aside. he leaned down to you and looked straight into your eyes. you watches his almost black eyes from lust and gazed at him with your purest innocent look. "he's still in here and i will let him play with you tonight. he will fuck the innocence out of this pretty body. "his low raspy voice made you shiver even more and your breath started shaking. he observed your needy body and placed a kiss on your jawline. placing more kisses along your neck. he let go of your hair and pulled you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. crashing your lips hungrily against his. he bit softly onto your lower lip and deepened the kiss. heavy breathing filled the room and your craving got stronger.

"touch me and use me" you managed to plead against his lips and your pressed your chest against his.

"oh i will. i will fuck you like a whore. " he whispered harsh and placed you back onto the bed. he hovered above you and started kissing and softly biting your soft skin from your neck to your boobs. making your body arch up against his in need of his body. you pressed your thigh against his crotch feeling his hard member.

sam's hand roamed along your body and cared for every inch in need of his touch. he got up and took the back of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"sit for me like a nice angel." he growled and got down onto his knees.

you sat up feeling weak and dizzy from all the hormones rushing through your body. "as long as you fuck me like the devil.." you sweetly talked back and supported yourself with your hands in the mattress.

he literally ripped off your thong and just threw it to the side. his hands push your thighs apart and his head buried between your legs. his warm breath and soft tongue made you explode on the inside and you couldn't help but let out a moan full of relish while gripping his hair.

"oh fuck sammy!" you moaned under your breath and pushed his head a bit more against your wet center.

his fingers grab hard onto your thighs and you could feel his tongue slipping into you, just teasing you as he pulled away and made you look at him.

"call me sammy one more time and you will regret it." he stated and got up.

Needing a moment to process what he just told you, you nooded quickly and watched him getting up.

"please let me taste you." you whimpered quietly at the loss of his touch and your facial features showed pure innocence. very turned on by this sam. he lays one hand onto your cheek and strokes over your lips with his thumb.

"you want to suck me cock little angel? then ask for it. be a good girl and ask for it like a decently angel. " sam commands while holding the very intense eye contact.

"l-let me suck you off sammy" not being able to help yourself, but tease him to the very edge.

his hand let's go of your cheek and lands on your cheek with a very dominated slap. your head falls to the side and a filthy smirk crosses your face. it hurt but just in the right ways. a sparkle lights up in your eyes and you looked back at him. his hand stroke over the cheek and to your throat, squeezing it slightly but just enough.

"on your knees. now." he hissed, lascivious eyes staring into your soul. he let go of your neck and pulled his sweatpants down. revealing his rock hard cock ready for you to take every inch of it.

you wasted no second and dropped to your knees. you took his cock into your hand and spit on it. stroking it a few times before you took him into your mouth. swirling your tongue around his tip and full on taking him inch by inch.

"that dirty little mouth!" sam breathed out and grabbed your hair. not just sucking him of but giving him a full on show by playing with yourself and moaning against his cock.

As you felt him twitching in your mouth you took him in even deeper gagging at his length, waiting desperately for him to come in your mouth.

without any warning he pulls you back and shakes his head. "No. you won't get me just yet." he pulled you up onto your feed and pushed you back onto the bed.

"p-please sam just..." not able to finish your sentence you looked up at him helpless gripping the bedsheets.

laying on top of you, he pushed your legs apart from each other with his hands and you let your head fall back to bed. closing your eyes and giving yourself away to sam and trust him with every inch of your body.

"look at me" he demanded. "i wanna see the hurt on your face, when you have to take it all in at once."

your eyes swung open and you looked up at him. your hands rested on his biceps and you wiggled your hips slightly. "fuck me sam!" you begged desperately. he pushed his full length into you and stopped for a minute. your eyes widened and you moaned out.

"fucking -" you clawed into his biceps and felt yourself stretch around him. "use me for whatever you want me.." you breathed out against his neck and sucked on his soft skin.

he started to thrust in and out of you. going faster at times and slowing down thrusting harder into you. with every thrust you felt yourself coming closer. your sight got dizzy and you clawened onto sam. taking him full in, feeling your craving being fulfilled. you felt so many feelings at once it overwhelmed you.

sams grip on your thighs got rougher and his thrust sloppier. "you're so tight, you feel so good my little angel" he moand raspy and moved one hand from your tight to your abdomen. his hand pushed softly down and with his cock he reached that one spot which pushed you over the edge.

"h-holy fuck i'm gonna cum sam" you cried out and he placed one hand onto your mouth.

"cum for me!" he moaned out and gave you very deep and hard thrusts. you rolled your eyes back and your head dropped back onto the bed. with shaking legs you pushed your pelvis up against him and your hands fell weak onto the bed.

he took your pelvis into his big hands and pushed himself a few more times into you. suddenly the time seems to stand still and your body tensed up. your mouth fell open and wave of energy flows through your body. moaning out his name, while your walls tightened around his thick cock you came and it felt like complete ecstasy.

sam pushed himself deep into you and let out a heavy moan. he supported himself with one hand onto the bed right besides your body and the other hand still on your pelvis.

"you drove me crazy, y/n" sam breathed exhausted and his hair hung onto his face.

you looked up at him feeling high and drunk from all of the feelings you just went through. "come here, please" your voice breaks and you try to reach up for him.

he pulls himself gently out of you and laid down besides you. his strong arms wrapped you up safely and hugged you. you pressed yourself against his body closing your eyes.

you gently stroke his chest and placed a kiss on it. "it may make things more complicated, but you don't know how much i craved for this.." without really think about it you confessed to him.

"we do not have do make it complicated. let's see where it leads us." he placed a kiss on your head and let go of you just a bit so he could look into your eyes. "i never knew you felt this way not the slightest bit. to be honest i thought you're into dean."

you laughed embarrassed against his chest and looked back up at him. "i was afraid of losing you and dean. i guess it was self protection?"

"well stop protecting yourself!" he laughed, hugging you closer again and you took a deep breath taking his scent in. you closed your eyes and fell asleep in his arms.

#the cw supernatural #oneshot #sam #supernatural #thecw #winchester #dean #dean winchester #samwinchester #smut #spn #spnxreader #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #winchester smut #winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #spn smut #sam smut #thecwspn #supernatural fandom #fandom #samwinchesterxreader

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: Dean asks Y/N to help him find his Dad who mysteriously went missing. The two along with Deans brother, Sam, go to investigate John, the dad’s, last hunt the one in which he’d gone missing from.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions of su!cide, arguing,witch craft, arguing, curse words, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

word count: 6,103

The Woman In White

(Masterlist/ Next chapter)

Present day…

A knock at the door halted my movements, I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I placed the book I was reading on my coffee table, jumping up to see who was at my front door. Suspicion and anticipation flooded my veins as I peeked through the peephole seeing a familiar deep brown leather jacket, not needing anymore confirmation I opened the door swiftly.

“Y/N.” Dean spoke, a mix of relief and worry laced within his voice.

“Dean” I responded with a smile making its way on my face. I practically jump on him my arms around his neck, the last time I saw him was a month ago when he came up to Maine to hang out with me. We were sitting on the hood of the impala just taking in the view when he said he needed to tell me something, he had this look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place and just as he was about to ask his phone rang and he had to leave. Since then I hadn’t heard anything from him, no calls or texts.

I let those thoughts pass through me as his initial shock wears off, wrapping his arms around my waist squeezing tightly.

I end our hug, remembering the worry in his voice as he said my name, motioning for him to come in leading him to my living room.

“You cut your hair” He acknowledged, sitting down.

“Felt like it needed a change” I say shrugging.

I had so much I wanted to ask him, but even before that I wanted to hug him again. I didn’t move to do either not wanting to scare him off.

“You sound worried, Dean, is everything okay?” I can’t help but ask, my eyebrows scrunching with worry.

“I'm okay sweetheart, but I do need your help. Dads been missing for a couple of days.” He explained the worry in his voice returning.

“You really think he’s in danger? I mean this has happened before and he always comes back fine” I rationalize.

“Not for this long.” he answered simply.

“Okay” I breathed out already knowing my answer the moment he said he needed my help, “Okay, just give me a couple of minutes to pack.” I repeated as I stood up, that charming smile landed on his face as he stood up with me. I took this as my opportunity to wrap my arms around him, this time around his torso, giving him another hug, if missing someone was illegal then lock me up. His arms wrapped around my waist and I felt the tension I hadn't realized was there, washing off my body.

I broke away first, immediately regretting it, pointing upstairs as a sign for me to start packing.

After traveling many days from Maine to LA we had finally made it to Sam’s place, who Dean naturally also wanted on board to find their dad.

Dean had parked the Impala in a parking lot close by, the darkness of the night cloaking us as Dean found a way in.

I whispered, warning Dean, “He’s already gonna be grumpy about you showing up here let alone breaking in!!”

But he dismissed me with a wave of his hand as he carefully opened up a window, sneaking in before turning back around and offering me a hand. I give him a look that says ‘really we’re doing this’ as I accept his offer and enter the house.

I follow after Dean as he enters a hallway, when suddenly a tall man lunges forward and grabs Dean's shoulder.

I figure it’s most likely Sammy and decide that I can stay back as the brothers have their quarrel.

Dean knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at him, missing as Sam ducks. Their fight continues until Dean finally knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor.

“Easy tiger” Dean huffs.

“Dean?” Sam asks, getting a laugh in response.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Sam complains

“That's ‘cause you're out of practice” Dean responds before Sam manages to knock Dean to the floor.

“Or not” Dean mumbles, face full of floor.

They finally get off of each other, as Sam asks “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I was looking for a beer” Dean replies, getting a response from me this time

“Dude, really?”

“Y/N? You're here too?!”

“Hi Sam!” I respond, smiling brightly.

Dean pats Sam on the shoulder, in the weird way guys do to greet another guy, “We gotta talk” Dean explains.

“Uh, the phone?” Sam reasons

“If I'd called, would you have picked up?” Dean counters, getting a low stretched out “yikes” from me as I add in very helpful commentary earning two hard glares from both boys.

Then the light suddenly turns on revealing a curly haired blonde woman wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt, very fashionable. I already like her even though I don’t know who she is.

“Sam?” the woman asks, tiredness lacing her voice.

“Jess. Hey. Dean. Y/N, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam introduces

I smile wildly waving at her, excited to finally meet the woman i’ve heard lots about, while Dean checks her out earning a slap on the back of his head from me

“Wait, your brother Dean? And your friend Y/N?” Jessica asks as Dean turns his head to me annoyed.

Sam nods and Dean moves closer to her ignoring my warning via head smack.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league” Dean grins.

“Really, Dean” I deadpan, getting an appreciative half smile from Sam while Dean ignores me.

“Just let me put something on” Jessica says, turning to go before being stopped by another sly comment from Dean “No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.”

I move forward hitting Dean on the back of the head once more, this time harder, he turns around to me “Really?”

“Yes.” I repond simply.

Dean turns back to Jessica, “Uh anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business” He explains before turning to Sam throwing a “But, uh, nice meeting you.”

“No,” Sam replies, going over to Jessica and putting an arm around her.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her” he goes on.

Dean turns to look at them both head on, “Okay, Dad hasn't been home in a few days.”

“So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later” Sam reasons.

Dean huffs, clarifying, “Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.”

Sam's expression doesn't change as Jessica glances up at him.

“Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.”

Dean heads downstairs, Sam follows after him once he changed into jeans and a hoodie, knowing they would be having an argument. I walked behind Sam making sure I was going slow.

Sam states the obvious, “I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.”

I hold back my ‘I told you so’ comment.

“You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him” Dean counters.

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine” Sam reasons, pointing out the same thing I did only a couple days ago.

Dean stops and turns around, Sam stopping too.

“Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?” Dean asks

“I'm not” Sam replies simply prompting a “Why not?” from Dean.

“I swore I was done hunting. For good” Sam clarifies

“Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.” Dean try’s reason.

Even though he said it I know we were all thinking it is that bad, it’s always a dangerous game.

Dean starts walking again, Sam and, subsequently, me following.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45” Sam recalls

Dean stops at the door to the outside, “Well, what was he supposed to do?”

“I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.”

“I’m sorry Dean but Sam’s right about that” I chime in.

“Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there” Dean explains, looking at the both of us like we’re crazy.

“Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. Yet we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find” Sam rationalizes.

“We save a lot of people doing it, too.”

There was a pause where no one said anything before Sam asked, “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?”

I tense knowing that was a sensitive topic, as Dean throws open the door clearly pissed at the mere mention.

“The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors” Sam, sadly, points out as we cross and enter the parking lot to the Impala.

“So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean argues.

“No. Not normal. Safe” Sam clarifies before adding,

“And that's why you ran away.”

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.”

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.”

“A-And what about you Y/N? Last time we talked you were saying how you were really happy with your job. Did you just throw that all away to help Dean? No offense Y/N but you really don’t owe him, let alone our Dad, anything.”

I breathe in sharply not expecting him to throw me into this conversation. He was right though, I really did love my job, I was a journalist for a crime website/paper. It paid well and was a way for me to signal to any hunters around if there was something supernatural about the case.

But even so I countered, “I do love my job and just because I agreed to come with doesn't mean I stopped doing it, I was able to make a deal to do it on the road and I’ll do it as long as I’m able to. And trust me I know I don’t owe anyone anything, but you guys are my best friends so you say you need help and I will gladly come, no questions asked.”

Sam looks down, sighing, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

Dean pipes up, “I can't do this without you, Sammy.”

“Yes you can.”

“Yeah, well, I don't want to” Dean clarifies with a sadness in his voice that if you hadn’t known him well you probably wouldn’t have heard.

Sam sighs, “What was he hunting?”

Dean opens the trunk of the car, then the spare-tire compartment that he uses as an arsenal. He props the compartment open with a shotgun so that he can dig through the clutter.

“So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?”

“Well, first I was hangin with Y/N here for a while before I started working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans” Dean answers.

Even though it was hardly a sentiment, the mention of us hanging out those weeks brought a smile to my face.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Sam questioned.

“I'm twenty-six, dude” Dean spoke as he pulled out papers from a folder, the ones he showed me at the first motel we slept at on our long journey to LA.

“All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.”

Dean hands one of the paper articles to Sam, adding on “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

“So maybe he was kidnapped” Sam reasons.

I answer this time, reciting what I remembered reading as Dean handed Sammy more articles, “Well there was another in April, then in December of oh-four, oh-three, ninety-eight, ninety-two and some more for a grand total of ten over the last twenty years.”

Dean puts the papers away pulling out a bag and then a tape recorder as he continues the info dump,

“All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I got this voicemail yesterday on our drive to you.”

He presses play, the familiar voice of John, their dad, and static playing, having heard it multiple times, “Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

He stops the recording.

“You know there's EVP on that, right?” Sam mentions.

Dean smiles, “Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?

All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.”

He presses play again, “I can never go home…”

“Never go home” Sam repeats as Dean puts everything back where it belongs to shut the trunk.

“Fun, right?” I comment sarcastically.

Sam sighs, “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”

Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean says, “What's first thing Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview? Skip it.”

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.”

Dean smirks, “Law school?”

“So we got a deal or not?”

Dean says nothing so I do, “Yes, we do” I confirm.

We arrive at the highway where all the men have gone missing just as Sam hangs up the phone, “All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess.”

“That’s good!” I add.

Dean then slows the car as we near on a bridge, police cars and men all around, he pulls over fully leaning over to open the glove box, exposing the many fake ids he and his dad had, one’s like FBI and such.

Sam glares at while I say, “Love a good ol’ fraud”

We exit the car heading towards the deputy.

Dean starts, “You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?”

The deputy looks up at us asking, “And who are you?”

Dean flashes his badge, clarifying, “Federal marshals.”

“You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” The man asks.

But Dean just laughs, “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you.”

Truthfully he has absolutely no reason to be that smooth.

Dean goes over to the car, the one that belongs to the guy who went missing aka Troy, “You did have another one just like this, correct?”

Jaffe, the deputy who’s name tag I was finally able to read,responds “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam chimes in, asking

“Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

Then I ask, “Besides them being all men have you found any other correlation?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.” He responds truthfully.

“So what's the theory?” Sam asks

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

So nothing. Great.

Just before I could ask another question Dean comments, “Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.”

Sam stomps on Dean's foot, clearing up his comment by saying “Thank you for your time. Gentlemen”

We walk away, with nothing, no helpful information, no nothing.

We make it into town, luckily finding who we assume to be the girlfriend of Troy.

Somehow Dean managed to convince the girl, Amy, that we were Troy's Uncles and Aunt who were also looking for our missing nephew.

Even more surprising we were able to get her to come to a Diner with us to talk, her friend Rachel joining us.

Rachel and Amy sat across from us in a booth, me being squished in by the wall as Dean sat next to me with an arm on the back of my seat and Sam sitting next to him.

Amy begins to explains the last time she saw Troy, “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.”

Sam asks, “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

Amy shakes her head, “No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace, it’s really nice” I say, noticing the pentagram she was wearing.

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—with all that devil stuff.” Amy says, laughs at the memory.

“I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing but pentagrams are actually a good tool, it protects you against evil. Your boyfriend has good taste, even if his intentions were different” I smile, careful to not use past tense to not give her the wrong impression.

Dean takes his arm off the back of my seat to lean in “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…” going the complete opposite direction I was aiming for aka nice and sympathetic.

But it seems to work as the girls look at each other debating whether whatever they had was worth sharing.

Rachel speaks this time, “Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

Dean and Sam ask at the same time, “What do they talk about?”

Neither boy called jinx, missed opportunity.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered on Centennial, like decades ago.Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

After heading to the library we found out about our murderous spirit, a twenty-four year old Constance Welch who committed suicide in 1981 after her two kids died in the bathtub when she walked away for a moment.

She commited on the very bridge that Troy, and many others went missing.

So that very night, we walked along the bridge, stopping to lean on the railing. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean said, looking over the railing.

“What a respectful way to put it, Dean” I say to him sarcastically.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asks Dean.

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” Dean spoke, I knew this would turn into another argument between them so I walked in front of them to give them room.

Their conversation became murmurs as I kept ahead, minutes going by before I turned around to wait for them to catch up.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—“ Sam said frustrated before being cut off by Dean

“Monday. Right. The interview.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam answered back

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” Dean argues.

“No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam responds.

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam following, caught up to me at this point.

“And who's that?” Sam questions.

“You're one of us.” Dean motions to me and him.

Sam hurries to get in front of us, “No. I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life…no offense Y/N”

“It’s okay Sam no offense taken, this job isn’t so dreamy” I respond.

“You're on his side?!” Dean yells, turning towards me.

“I-I mean do you blame me? It’s his life! And if he wants to settle down and try to forget the things that go bump in the night then that’s his decision to make. Don’t you wish things could be different?” I argue back, dying down with my question.

“He has a responsibility to—“ Dean gets cut off by Sam now, “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

My heart aches for him, I understand what it’s like to lose a mother but at least I had time with her.

Then Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. “Don't talk about her like that.”

“Dean!” I shout out.

He releases Sam with a huff and walks away.

“Are you okay, Sam?” I ask

He nods but by the look on his face I can tell he’s frustrated.

“Y/N.Sam.” Dean alerted us, we moved to stand next to him seeing a pretty pale women in white with dark brown hair, Constance. She was on the edge of the bridge, and with one final look back at us she stepped off.

We run to the railing but see nothing.

“Where’d she go?” Dean asks no one in particular. “I don’t know” Sam responds while I add on “Freaky.”

The sudden roaring of an engine forces our attention behind us once more revealing it to be the Impala with its headlights also on. I whip my head towards Dean, double checking that he isn’t the one in the car.

“What the—“Dean starts

“Who's driving your car?”

Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances down at them. The car suddenly jerks into motion, heading straight for us.

With no other speaking necessary, we turn and run.

“Go! Go!” I yell, panic running through me. But the car was moving faster than we were and it was all too close far too quickly.

Dean grabs hold of my wrist forcing us both on and over the railing of the bridge into the ice cold river, knowing I would never do such a thing willingly (even with the circumstances). Sam jumped over, right after us.

The river was, truthfully, more mud than water or at least that’s how it felt. I choke as I breach the surface, Dean’s firm grip on my wrist remaining making it easier to locate him as he pulls us both out and onto the riverbend.

“Dean? Y/N” Sam calls out, his voice coming from above meaning he hadn’t fallen into the river and wasn’t suffering like us, lucky bastard.

It’s only when we’re both standing, out of the river, do I realize just how bad we are. Mud cakes to every inch of my skin, forcing the clothes I was wearing to stick to me, and I knew that my hair would be a catastrophe to deal with.

I want to start crying, seriously.

“What?” Dean calls back

“Hey! Are you all right?” Sam asks the both of us. I watch Dean through an ‘ok’ hand sign along with an “I’m super” just as I hang my head down.

Sam laughs and I suddenly feel very compelled to go up there and throw him in the river so that he could suffer too.

Dean still kept a hand on my wrist all the way up until we were back to the Impala, immediately he went to check if Baby was okay.

He shuts the hood of the car and leans on it.

“Your car all right?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” Dean complains.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?” Sam asked as he settled on the hood next to Dean while I prompted to stand knowing that if I sat I'd just feel the mud even more.

Dean throws up his arms in frustration, flicking mud off his hands.

Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean and I. “You guys smell like a toilet.”

“Alright I can't take this” I complained, moving to stand right in front of Dean. I slap a hand near his shoulder and begin a cleansing spell. The latin slips off my tongue as I catch my reflection on the car seeing my irises glowing purple, like they always do when I use my powers.

The mud, the icky-ness, and the smell vanish from the both of us as I finish the short spell. It’s definitely a weird feeling but far better than the feeling of mud being everywhere.

A sigh of relief comes from Dean as he covers my hand on his shoulder with his own, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks sweetheart”

“You’re welcome! Consider it a thanks for pulling me out of that mud-river.” I respond back cheerfully, eyes focused on Dean as I smile.

I feel Sam’s eyes going from me to Dean in an almost freaked out way.

“I didn’t know you could do that” He breathed

“If I sat here and listed everything I could do we’d be here for a hot minute” I smirked just a little pridefully.

“Two rooms, please.” Dean asks the motel clerk. By the time we got to a motel it was already morning so it was safe to say we all wanted a little break.

The Clerk picks up the card and looks at it. “Are you guys having a reunion or something?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks as I look between both boys, also confused.

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought a room for the whole month.” The Clerk explains, and the realization hits us all.

John.

The motel door swings open, Sam having just picked the lock to John's room. Sam and I enter, complementing his criminal skills while Dean is just outside, playing lookout until I grab hold of his upper arm and pull him inside. Sam closing the door behind us.

Every surface has papers pinned to it like maps, newspaper clippings, pictures and notes. There’s books on the desk and assorted mess on the floor and bed. There’s a line of salt on the floor and half eaten food on the desk.

“I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.” Dean informs sniffing a half eaten burger.

“Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” Sam noted.

Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

“What have you got here?” I ask, half looking at the junk on the bed.

“Centennial Highway victims.” He replies

The paper showed some of the victims including Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Judging by the photos Mark, Durrell, and Nifong were all white males.

“I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?” Dean asks to no one in particular

“Well it’s not always about the outward stuff could be something more personal in their life, maybe a sequence of events or just something as simple as an action” I inform.

“Dad figured it out” Sam detects, me and Dean turning to see him in front of papers on another wall. Something about Witches, demons, devils, and so on along with an article about the “Woman in White.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks him

Sam clarifies, “He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.”

“You sly dogs…All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.” Dean comments looking closer at the pictures of her victims while I get more distracted on the clippings about the witches, yes it hadn’t a thing to do with this hunt but I mean come on.

“She might have another weakness.” Sam suggests

“Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?” Dean counters.

“No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband.”

“If he’s even alive, and he’d be sixty-two by now” I murmur, chiming in.

“All right. Why don't you guys, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna go take a piss” Dean informs.

I scrunch my eyebrows as I say, “Have fun!”

Dean starts to walk away but he stops when Sam starts speaking, “Hey, Dean?…What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean holds up a hand, “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughs and nods, “All right. Jerk.” It’s then that I knew that everything between them would be okay.

“Bitch” Dean calls back as he disappears into the bathroom.

I keep looking at the articles on the wall, reading more on Constance victims, but in the corner of my eye I see Sam smiling sadly at a photo he picked up from a mirror frame in the room.

A minute or so later Sam begins to pace the room before opting for sitting on the bed, with his phone to his ear

Dean exits the bathroom half shrugging on his jacket as he says, “Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. Do either of you want anything?”

“No.” Sam answers plainly.

“Oooh! Can you get me some fries?” I ask, getting all excited for some food as I pull out my laptop from my messenger bag ready to find that address.

“Sure thing, baby.” He says throwing me that charming smile and a wink that causes my cheeks to flush. “You sure Sammy, Aframian's buying.”

But Sam shakes his head printing Dean to head out.

I’m just about to start searching on google when Sam stands up suddenly with panicked eyes.

“We have to go, now.”

Sam filled me in on the ride to Joseph Welch’s house, we had to keep going even with Dean arrested.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks the older man

“Yeah.”

Sam had given him a photo, the one he got from the hotel mirror, as we followed Joseph down his cluttered driveway.

“Yeah, he was older, but that's him.” Joseph says, referring to John, handing the photo back.

“He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right. We're working on a story together.” Sam explains.

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?”

“It’s an article about the understanding of young women committing suicide as a result of grief. We wanted to get all the details and even include a case that was more than 20 years old” I said cutting in, my experience as a journalist coming in handy.

“He asked me where she was buried” he deadpanned.

“I’m sorry Sir if our partner came off gruff and unsympathetic, and truly I hate to have to ask you again I mean I know this must still be difficult but where was she buried? It’d be helpful to know it again as a fact check because, as you can tell, our partner isn’t the best with people” I explain trying to come off the exact opposite way that John had.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” He answered simply, only seeming a little bothered.

“And why did you move?” I ask.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died,” he replied, I nodded at what he said.

Sam stops walking so I stop not knowing what he was getting at, Joseph then stops too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam pipes up.

“No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.” John reminisced.

“So you had a happy marriage?”

But Joseph hesitates for a beat then says, “Definitely”.

How convincing.

“Well, I think we got what we needed. Thank you, Mr.Welch, for your time and sorry again.” I concluded.

Sam and I turn to walk back to the Impala, but he pauses turning back towards Joseph who began to walk away.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?”

Joseph pauses, turning around “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” Sam clarifies.

But John doesn't respond.

“It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. Um, they're spirits—“

“Sam, What are-“ but my point goes on deaf ears as Sam stalks towards Joseph.

“They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women. But all share the same story.”

“Boy, I don't care much for nonsense.” Joseph says walking away but Sam remains insistent as he follows

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.” Sam goes on stopping Joseph in his tracks, getting his attention once more.

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!” He lectures Sam.

“You tell me.” Sam says, calmly.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!”Joseph yells one final time, shaking with anger or maybe grief.

Sam turns walking back towards me.

“That was good Sammy, seriously” I admire his blunt choice patting him on the back.

Sam’s driving when his phone rings, handing it to me to pick up. I put it on speaker phone as a familiar voice rings out.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.” Dean laughs proudly.

“It was actually Y/N’s idea” Sam clears up.

“Eh what’s one more crime to the endless list?” I say smiling pridefully.

Dean laughs and it bubbles something inside me, something that’s been there for a long time.

But his laugh dies down and he goes serious,

“Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop.” Sam informs Dean, catching him up.

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?” Dean warns.

But Sam continues on, “I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.” Dean spoke.

“What? How do you know?” I ask, beating Sam to the question I know he was about to ask.

“I've got his journal” Dean announces

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going” Dean informs.

“Coordinates. Where to?” Sam questions

“I'm not sure yet.”

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?” Sam slams the brake causing the phone to fall out of my hand, I whip my head to Sam and then back to the road seeing Constance standing ahead of us, the car doesn't slow quick enough as we halt right as we go through her.

All of a sudden Constance is in the back seat saying “Take me home”

I yelp, having not expected her to just be in the back seat. Next to me Sam is breathing hard, looking at the ghostly women in the rear view mirror.

“Sam? Y/N? Y/N!

#dean winchester #x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #witchcraft #fanfiction #sam winchester #adventure #fiction #first fanfic #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #romance #winchester x reader #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x f!reader #supernatural season 1 #supernatural x reader #the hunter and the witch

[hells-plaid-angel]

They’re on a hunt when it happens. It’s something so innocuous Cas doesn’t think about the action until they’re driving home. They’d pursued their monster-of-the-week and run into another hunter who claimed they were an old friend of John Winchester. 

It took too long for them to realise the hunter was the one behind the killings, acting as a go-between, doing some dirty work for Hell. They found themselves cornered in the man’s yard, trapped and backed into a corner with a not-so-friendly looking hunting dog standing between them, and the high fence, their only exit. Cas’ grace was failing, so he was unsure if he could get himself and the Winchester brothers out of the mess unscathed. 

Cas knew many things about Dean Winchester, he knew he wasn’t cruel for the sake of cruelty but he also knew any man with a gun in his hand, who found themselves backed into a corner would be tempted to fire. It wasn’t often Dean surprised Cas, but that day he did. He held his hands out in front of himself, open-palmed and moved slowly to greet the animal. Its pinned ears and raised haunches kept Dean several arms lengths away, but they stood facing each other until the animal calmed.  When it did, Dean touched the creature softly and ushered both Cas and Sam out. By the look on Sam’s face, Cas understood he’d also been surprised Dean’s plan had worked. 

It isn’t until they’ve caught the hunter and driven back to the bunker and Sam had retired to his room that Cas decided to broach the subject. 

“How did you know the dog wouldn’t attack you?” 

“Call it a hunch,” Dean replied trying to minimise whatever had occurred, letting Cas know he was touching on something important. 

Something Dean didn’t want to talk about, was usually the exact thing he needed to talk about. Cas isn’t sure how he manages it, but after a few prolonged glances and a long stretch of silence, Dean speaks. 

“It’s a hunting dog, Cas. Course it’s going to attack you if it’s been told to. I know they’re dangerous, I ain’t stupid. But you sit with the thing for a while, show it you can trust it,  and maybe it starts to get iffy. Thing doesn’t like to fight, it just does what it’s told. You pet it and confuse the hell out of it. Hunters want the things to be tough, so they never touch ‘em gently. Think it’ll make ‘em soft.” Cas understands.  Dean is the dog. 

Cas wonders if he’s ever been touched gently. He decides it’s his job to make sure Dean is. 

He spots a few scratches and bruises littering Dean’s body from the aftermath of the hunt and pulls him into the kitchen, trying to get a better look at him. He reaches out a hand to heal Dean but the man shrugs him off, making an excuse about not wanting Cas to waste his grace. That won’t do. Cas needs to show Dean that people can be gentle with him.

That’s how the two end up knee to knee at their unconventional version of a dining room table, with Cas helping to cradle a packet of frozen peas to Dean’s face. Cas tentatively strokes a thumb over the underside of Dean’s eyes, along his cheekbones. No one taught Cas how to be gentle, so he’s unsure if he’s doing it right, but from Dean’s stunned silence he thinks perhaps he is.

In the following days, Cas grabs every opportunity he can to touch Dean softly. He shocks Dean speechless as midway through a conversation Cas moves forward and gently brushes a strand of hair to the side, that had fallen into Dean’s eyes. When he needs to move past Dean he places a soft but firm hand in the middle of his back. He even throws a blanket over Dean’s shoulders on a partially cold morning. 

When he begins to run out of ways to be gentle he finds another, one that even Cas knows is toeing the line of things he can get away with. 

“Night, sunshine. I’m hitting the hay,” Dean grumbles, rising from his seat beside Cas in his ‘Dean Cave’ as the movie they were watching comes to a close. 

Cas stands with him before he can talk himself out of it and cautiously, places a kiss to Dean’s cheek. He lets it linger before pulling and mumbles, 

“Goodnight, Dean.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything. He raises a hand to his cheek, as though to capture the heat of Cas’ lips and stares at him with wide-eyed amazement. And once more Cas sees the same look of frozen and confused horror as the dog. So it was true. Dean wasn’t used to being treated with such fondness. Cas would have to change that. 

#I've had a brain worm the past few days #so I'm sharing it with you #destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #destiel ficlet #destiel drabble #dean winchester #bisexual dean winchester #dean studies #cas #castiel #dean meta #let 'em be soft damn it #spn meta #destiel fluff

[ichorai]

blue jeans ; bucky barnes.

based on blue jeans - lana del rey !!

pairing ; bucky barnes x shield agent!gn!reader

synopsis ; four instances you managed to chip away at bucky's icy heart before he realized he was in love with you.

words ; 3.6k

themes ; fluff, action, slight angst, s2l/f2l, shield agent au

warnings / includes ; sparring in the first scene, mild injuries, mentions of death, alludes to insomnia/difficulty sleeping, tony throws a party, hints at steve/natasha, one sexual innuendo, bucky experiences *gasp* emotions, bucky doesn't understand references bcs he's older than your grandparents

a/n ; for @fairydxll's 2k writing event :D

main masterlist. set in the same universe as: to noise making.

blue jeans, white shirt walked into the room, you know you made my eyes burn it was like james dean, for sure you're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer

The first time you met Bucky, you were drenched in your own sweat, grunts of exertion falling from your lips as you ducked and rolled away from Natasha’s quick strikes. You were doing pretty well today, managing to evade her offensive strategies in your effort to get her to tire herself out. She was starting to get worn down, you could see it in the soft blue of her irises. The plan was working considerably until…

Well, until Bucky Barnes strode into the training room. Steve was by his side, wearing his Captain uniform, and you absentmindedly wondered if there was a mission you somehow managed to forget about.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Natasha jolted forward, landing a solid blow to your jaw, which made your head snap sharply to the side. She tackled you with a derisive huff, your body slamming firmly against the cushioned grounds of the sparring ring. Her knee hovered over you throat, and she tilted her head at you, a smirk curling at her mouth.

“Dead,” she said flippantly, before rolling off of you, clasping your hand to haul you back up. 

The ceiling came into view as you rolled your eyes, despite the grin forming across your exerted features. Gingerly, you rubbed your sore jaw with a dark chuckle, shooting her a playful scowl. “I had that coming.”

“Nat,” Steve called out from across the room. The two of you turned to face the pair of super soldiers. The blonde sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry for interrupting, but could I borrow you for a second? It’s about what happened in Chicago.”

What happened in Chicago?

You sent Natasha a curious glance, but she only shook her head, as if to say I’ll tell you later. 

She clapped your shoulder in good nature, before ducking underneath the sparring barriers, following Steve out the same way he came in. 

That left just you and Bucky. You suddenly felt awkward, fiddling with the bandages over your knuckles. You’ve never come face to face with the Winter Soldier before. The most you’ve heard were stories and rumors that spread like wildfire through the compound. Some were quite outlandish, but you couldn’t help but listen. The man kept to himself, usually confined to his quarters or out on long, long classified missions with Steve or Sam. He was a mystery, and you prided yourself on being a rather good detective.

What you did know about him, was the fact that he was accredited to over a hundred kills during his time with Hydra. One of the most notorious killers of all time.

And he waved at you. 

You had to blink twice before you realized that you had to respond in some way. Two fingers raised to your forehead as you awkwardly saluted him.

Jesus, he might’ve been from the forties, but really? Did you just salute him? 

Despite your inner turmoil, a slight grin flitted over his lips. 

Desperate to break the silence, you asked without thinking twice about it, “Do you… do you wanna spar?” If your muscles weren’t frozen in trepidation, you would’ve face palmed. You might’ve been a good fighter, but against the Bucky Barnes? You didn’t stand a chance. Sending him another furtive glance, it finally dawned on you that he was wearing jeans. “Oh, I mean, you don’t have to if you’re not dressed for it. I was—”

“Sure,” Bucky said, shrugging. “I’ve fought in worse.”

Damn it. 

He strode closer, swinging onto the sparring platform. 

Your heart was beating irregularly quickly, and you had to suck in a few deep breaths to steady your pulse. 

Bucky raised his hands tentatively, and the two of you began circling each other. This close, you could see the deep blue of his eyes, the shadow of a stubble gracing his sharp jaw, the haunted bags beneath his eyes. There were small things you noticed about his stance. Bucky favored his right side, which was quite ironic, considering he had a vibranium left arm. Though he had a heavier build, he was expertly bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to strike forward at any given second. But he was slightly drawn back, and that was how you knew he had no plans of going on the offensive any time soon.

Narrowing your eyes, you darted forward, swinging a hit to his face. To your expectation, he easily blocked your blow, moving to the side swiftly. You were quick to follow the hit with a kick to the chest, which he let you land, and he staggered backwards a couple paces.

He was going easy on you.

With clenched teeth, you drew forward and struck his side, followed by a roundhouse punch to his shoulder. The impact made him falter, so you hooked your foot over the crook of his knee and yanked him back, which made him fall back with a grunt. 

There was a smile to his winded features. God damn it.

“You’re holding back on me,” you said, panting slightly, backing away from him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

That pretty smile of his warbled subtly. “I’m sorry. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. You wanna go again?”

“Nah,” you breathed out, clasping your hands together behind your head, stretching with a mild grimace. “I promised Tony I’d look over the mission debriefs. Think we could pick this up another time?”

Bucky pushed himself up from the ground, running his flesh hand through his close-cropped hair. Jesus Christ, could he just stop being attractive for one damned second? 

“Sure. I’ll look forward to it.”

You nodded once. “It’s a date,” you said stoutly, before ducking beneath the sparring ring’s barrier and striding out of the training room with a heart that slammed far too erratically against your ribcage—and you highly doubted it was because of physical exertion.

you were sorta punk rock, i grew up on hip hop but you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and i know that love is mean (oh oh) and love hurts (oh oh) but I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby

It was late, and you definitely should’ve been sleeping by now. 

But, alas, your eyes stayed open and your mind ran rampant with such horrid irrationalism that you tore the blankets away from you, clambered out of your bed in a rush, and strode out of your room as quietly as you possibly could. A quick glance to the clock hanging in the hallway told you that it was nearing three in the morning, and a heavy sigh fell from your lips. You shuffled towards the living room, curling into the corner of the plush sofa and turning on the television, placing it on the lowest volume so it wouldn’t awaken the others. 

The screen cast a dull blue glow onto you, playing some old Christmas movie you couldn’t recall the name of, and you placed your head against the armrest, eyes hooded with fatigue.

Much to your surprise, Bucky came out not too long after, rubbing his own eyes sleepily. His hair was disheveled, sleep shirt stretched taut over the muscles of his torso.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you winced, propping yourself up on one arm.

He was quick to shake his head. “No, no, it wasn’t you. Why’re you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied cautiously. 

The two of you stared at each other for a good minute before he shook his head with a hoarse chuckle, sitting himself down on the sofa, not too far away from you. Hesitance splayed over your features evidently, but you eased yourself back into the seat and turned your attention towards the television.

You fell asleep to the faint sound of Christmas music and the feeling of Bucky’s arms wrapping over you when your forehead accidentally landed onto his chest. Not that he minded much—he rather liked the way you fit perfectly into him.

The following morning, Tony was the first to stride out, pleasantly surprised to see the two of you sleeping on the couch peacefully, limbs entangled to no return. It was safe to say that he took enough pictures to blackmail the two of you for a lifetime. 

i will love you 'til the end of time i would wait a million years promise you'll remember that you're mine baby, can you see through the tears?

Tony’s parties were a grand spectacle you had the joy of being invited to every year. He claimed it was because he thought you were a fun drunk, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Tony was starting to see you more and more as a close friend—though you presumed he wouldn’t ever admit it.

This year, you appeared in a dark, red velvet suit, crisp white button-up visible just beneath the jacket. The party was already in full swing, music reverberating pleasantly through the room and people milling about with wide smiles and flutes of golden champagne.

You weaved your way through, stopping to greet Natasha and Steve with a flourish, clapping the burly super soldier on the shoulder and bumping your fist playfully against the ex-red room assassin. The both of them wore a deep hue of green today, unintentionally coordinating outfits—even though they were quite the oblivious pair to one another’s feelings, you thought they’d be quite the attractive couple, both in the physical and metaphorical sense.

As Natasha recounted some story of the time Tony messed up one of her missions, your gaze drifted over to the bar, where you saw Sam and Bucky bickering quietly—the former having a wide grin splayed over his lips and the latter wearing a glowering scowl, carding his vibranium arm through his close-cropped hair. The action led you to notice that he had a small red ribbon tied around the metal limb, and you could feel an amused grin tilt at the corner of your glossed lips.

The party drew on—you were whisked away by a handful of your colleagues to play catch up just around a dozen times. It would be quite the understatement to say you were enjoying yourself. Thor’s boisterous laughter seemed to rumble the very ground, Clint challenged you to a game of ‘I bet you can’t flick this olive into that guy’s drink’, and Maria mixed up your drinks for you with surprising ease, sending you a wink when you asked for your fifth sugary beverage in a row. Tony had joined you at one point, nearly black-out drunk, and you had to prop your arm beneath his forehead before he could face-plant against the counter.

A lot happened in such a short span of time, you found yourself bee-lining for the balcony when you gulped down your sixth glass, in need of some fresh air. Outside, the music dampened to a faint echo of its volume inside, and the quiet warped over you like a cold blanket. You sighed in mild relief, rubbing at your sore cheeks gingerly—you weren’t used to smiling this much in just one night.

When the balcony doors squeaked as they gave way for someone else, you looked over your shoulder, eyebrows quirking upwards upon seeing none other than James Buchanan Barnes.

“I’m surprised to see you,” you said quietly. “Didn’t think parties were your forte.”

The suit he wore was a rich shade of navy blue, bringing out the juxtaposing lightness of his irises. That stubble you liked far more than you’d admit brought out the sharpness of his features, giving him a rough edge you knew countered with his tentative and soft personality. You glanced down at the red ribbon tied around his metal bicep, grinning gently. 

“Sam forced me to come,” he replied dismissively, moving forward to stand next to you. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat—this close, you could see the subtle flush of rouge creep over his skin. “You look great. Really great.”

A warm sensation flooded your chest and your nose wrinkled as you looked towards him in muted delight. “You look good, too, Bucky. Blue really is your color.”

Bucky rather liked the way he could see the stars in your eyes. 

After a considerably lengthy period of ponderous silence, you quietly asked, “Why haven’t you been let out for any public missions? It's all hidden underground stuff you do. You’re an Avenger like the rest of us.”

The fond smile that once graced his mouth melted away at an instant, replaced by the harsh framing of an uncomfortable slant. You immediately regretted asking the question, about to tell him that it was alright if he didn’t want to answer before he cut you to the chase and said, “You know why.”

Disappointment unfurled within your ribcage, like a roll of paper stretched taut. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.” You weren’t quite sure what had come over you, so you wrapped your hand over the coldness of his vibranium wrist, clutching it tightly and watching him with keen eyes. “You don’t deserve any of this, for the record. I hope you know that, Bucky. You deserve the entire world and I hope people start to look past the actions of someone you were also a victim to.”

Bucky had so much he wanted to say, but the words were lodged in his throat. He found himself nodding to your words, allowing a meek smile to crack through his stony disposition. No more words needed to be said, and the two of you parted ways with the sort of comforting silence that could be shared with only people who’ve seen too much for a single lifetime.

love you more than those bitches before say you'll remember (oh baby) say you'll remember, oh baby ooh i will love you 'til the end of time

Rumors spread around the compound rather quickly. You had just come back from a rather rough mission, dropping your long-range firearms into the storage room when you heard two other agents gossiping feverishly in the corner. Knowing it was none of your business, you quickly put away your weapons and strode out, but you couldn’t help overhearing Bucky’s name being thrown out between the two. Curiosity getting the better of you, you pressed yourself against the wall and listened just enough for you to catch what they were discussing.

He went on a date. And not just any regular date. The first one in decades. 

Blinking in mild shock, you made your way to your quarters, yearning to wash off all the blood and dirt that rendered your skin sticky and uncomfortable.

It wasn’t until the late hours of the night you bumped into the super soldier in the kitchen. You were washing your dirty dishes from a couple hours ago when you made dinner for yourself, sighing in annoyance at the dried leftovers that clung to the ceramics. 

“What’s the point of living in a multimillion dollar compound if there’s no fancy tech to wash my dishes for me?” you hissed scathingly under your breath, using your shoulder to knock away a stray piece of hair that fell over your eyes. “Stupid broken dishwasher. Didn’t Tony say he’d get that looked at a week ago? Bet he completely forgot.”

Your grumbling was interrupted when you heard the fridge door open. Pivoting by the waist to see who it was, a string of colorful curses fell from your lips when soap suds dribbled from your arms and all over your shirt, iridescent bubbles now lining your pajamas. 

“Seems like you’re having a bad day,” Bucky said from the fridge, now moving towards the cupboards to grab a glass for the carton of orange juice in his hands. “Can’t say I’m better off, though.”

“Yeah?” you asked with an amused edge, quickly turning back around to rinse off your soapy hands and dishes. Ripping off a kitchen towel to dab at the soap on your shirt, you glanced back up at him. “Heard you had a date.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. It was only then that you realized that he was still wearing a crisp suit—no doubt he had just come back fresh from his night out. “It, uhm, didn’t go so well.”

“Sorry to hear that, Bucky.” Sensing that he’d rather be talking about literally anything else, you nodded once and swiftly changed the subject. “I was just about to start a new show. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”

The tired glint to his eyes seemed to wane away as he shot you a grateful beam. “That sounds amazing, honestly. I could use the distraction.”

It was certainly a strange sight—a SHIELD agent in a poorly-dried soapy shirt sitting beside one of the most famous ex-assassins in the world, who just so happened to be wearing a fancy date suit. You turned on the TV wordlessly, lips only faintly twitching upwards when he settled into his seat further, flesh arm coming round over the back of the couch to land over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

“You are ridiculously wet right now,” he commented with all but a straight face, eyes flickering down to your still-damp shirt and hands, which made you snort unattractively.

“Gee, Bucky. Didn’t know we were at that stage yet.”

The super soldier appeared affronted for a moment at what you were implying before he quickly began backtracking, “I didn’t—I wasn’t—!”

“I know,” you chuckled, patting his knee consolingly. Then, you turned your attention back to the screen. “I hope you don’t mind animated shows.”

“You kidding me? I was a huge fan in the forties. Snow White was all the rage back then,” Bucky hummed, fingers flexing experimentally on your bicep. It took all you had in you not to preen with delight at how comfortable he was with physical touch with you, so you settled on tucking your knees up to your chest and shuffling even closer to him.

A brilliant smile spread over your features. “I love it when you talk about the forties. It’s like I’m looking through a window of your life before… before everything,” you said quietly before shifting about one last time to make yourself more comfortable.

The episode was brightly colorful, exuberant in both visuals and dialogue. He often found himself in awe at the wonderful animation and spectacular voice acting, enthralled whenever you made small comments on the plot—something he knew you were just doing to subtly check if he was enjoying himself as well. 

One gripe he did have, however, was the fact that there were far too many jokes and references that Bucky couldn’t really understand. At first, he didn’t want to ask you because you seemed to be enjoying yourself—but after the first few, you seemed to realize that he wasn’t catching on and from then you’d pause the show to quickly explain some of the obscure pop culture references. 

“Scooby Doo is a famous mystery show that was super big around the 80s and 90s,” you whispered over to him. “Just in case you didn’t know.” 

Bucky could feel his heart lurch in its steady pace. He wasn’t entirely used to someone considering his own enjoyment in general—much less for something as mundane as watching a show. You were just so… nice. So nice that it left a yearning sort of ache within Bucky’s chest that he couldn’t exactly place. 

“Thanks,” he hoarsely muttered and you only responded with a half-minded hum, hand somehow finding its way back to his knee.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

Eventually, the episode ended and the credits rolled by, the wind-chime music tinkling in the background as you stretched your limbs with a weak groan, followed by an audible yawn you hid behind a fist. You blinked away the sleepy tears and shot him a reluctant watery smile.

“I better call it a night. Got some meetings tomorrow I have to lead.” After a tentative pause, you tacked on, “It was really nice being with you tonight. I, uhm, I hope this took your mind off of things, even if it was temporary.”

The corner of his lips slanted upwards. “It was great, really. Do you think we could… do it again sometime?”

Oh, it was like you could feel your heart melting through the bones of your ribcage. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d love that!” you breathily said a little too quickly, and you cleared your throat in embarrassment. “I, uh—g’night, Bucky.”

Bucky couldn’t understand just how easy it was for you to suddenly lean over and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed over his stubble, nose bumping softly against his cheekbone. He could smell you—lavender and dish soap infiltrating his senses. Nearly short circuiting, he remained as still as a statue, only forcing himself to lift a hand to stiffly wave goodbye when you promptly hauled yourself onto your feet, turned on the heel, and padded down the hall to your room. He watched you go with slightly parted lips accompanied by a longing stare. 

Hours later, now retired into the privacy of his room, moonlight spilling white through the windows and onto the cold floors, Bucky could still feel the burning imprint of your lips on his skin. He wasn’t able to sleep for the rest of the night, plagued by nightdreams of how your smile would feel molded against his.

#rue's 2k #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes drabbles #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes scenarios #bucky drabbles #bucky imagines #bucky scenarios #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot

[castieldelamancha]

"Marry me."

Dean huffs loudly, both at Castiel's occurrences and also at how difficult it is to navigate this forest in the middle of the night, carrying Castiel in his arms.

He feels the need to laugh, but it may come out as something bordering hysteria.

"Really, Cas, you are asking me that right now?" Both of them covered in dirt and blood, Dean silently praying whoever is listening they make it to the car in time, Sam following close behind, covering them in case the monster they just killed, and that almost kills Cas before that, didn't have a friend lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce and finish the job " you haven't lost that much blood yet."

That gets him an upset huff from Cas, who rolls his eyes, "I'm not asking because I'm delirious, I am completely in my right mind, I just -"

"You aren't going to die," he cuts him off, forcefully, "you don't get to make a big declaration and die on me." The again is loud and clear there, even if Dean doesn't say it out loud. He cradles Castiel even closer to his chest, praying even harder, walking even faster.

"I read somewhere," Castiel says, quietly, a calm sea that clashes with Dean's inner ragging storm, "that when the moment is right to ask you simply know it. I thought you and I, what we have, was above such simple human tags and conventions, but I was wrong." He sounds a bit out of breath now, and Dean is about to tell him to shut up and not waste his energy, but Castiel is quick to add, "It would be nice to celebrate our love, find another way," his voice shakes a little, is he cold? is the wound getting to him as the adrenaline wears off? Their eyes met and while Dean can see the faint ghost of pain there, he doesn't see any fear, like Castiel is sure Dean won't let anything else happen to him on his watch and that trust is the greatest gift he has ever received, in his entire life, "to express how much I appreciate you, your love, your care," he raises a hand, slowly, the movement sluggish, he presses his fingertips to Dean's lips, "I know you don't do any of it because you expect something back, not even a thank you."

"You don't even have a ring, man." Dean says, as soon as Castiel moves his hand back, letting out a watery laugh, feeling a mix of emotions rush through him, an immense love for the man in his arms, a great relief since he can see the impala, waiting for them.

Castiel manages a sheepish smile, a light shrug, "that's true, but I can offer you everything else that I have, everything I am."

"I will marry you, you weirdo." He dips his head down, pressing a kiss to Castiel's forehead, he gets a bright, albeit tired smile back, a muttered I love you than he answers with one of his own.

"Uh, guys, congratulations?" Sam says after a beat of silence.

"Thanks Sam." Castiel smiles over Dean's shoulder at him.

"Yeah, thanks, whatever." Dean grunts. "Couldn't wait not even five damn minutes to ask me." He mutters under his breath, shaking his head, smiling to himself.

"You have to agree I have given us a great story to tell people." Dean laughs lightly.

"You totally have, sweetheart."

#destiel #smh at myself #ficlet #vanessa writes #i have reached a whole new level of cheesiness gotta love this for myself #long post #tuserpris

[wormstacheangel]

Day 2: Pumpkin Patch

Run. Run. Run. 

Dean's lungs hurt with every step he took. He felt as if he was going to pass out, throw up, and then his heart was going to jump out of his chest like a cartoon. All in that order.

But he couldn’t slow down. He needed to save his own ass from getting sacrificed—he really needs to stop using himself as bait—as well as the poor son of a bitch they left in here with him. Dean barely saw the dude but he knew one of them was getting nailed in the cornfield—not in the cool sexy way—and the other in the pumpkin patch. 

He wished they had given him the pumpkin patch because running for his life through a fucking cornfield during the midnight hour sure wasn’t his idea of fun. 

He had a spell ready to kill these tiny Gods but they had to be together and where ever the sacrificial guy was, the Pumpkin King was sure to follow. Unless he was eaten already then Dean was screwed. 

 He wasn’t sure if he was even running in the right direction, the cornfield felt never-ending, but then he tripped into a clearing. Rolling behind some hay and bumping heads with somebody.

“Ow!” Dean hissed. Not because of the head bump but because someone just punched him hard on the shoulder. The dude looked like he was ready to do it again, winding up his arm and wide blue eyes looking extra crazy under the moonlight.

“Stop! Stop! Stop. Hey….buddy?” Dean grabbed the dude's fist and quickly pinned it behind him. “You got kidnapped and left for dead in this field for a monster to kill you?”

The man quickly nodded, knocking Dean backward and pinning him underneath his body. Dean looked up, surprised but in awe of this beautiful man. 

“I had a bad morning.” The handsome stranger said. A voice so smooth and deep it made Dean want to sigh dreamily at him, but he needed to not be killed first. 

“Tell me about it.” Dean tried to charm his way out of this one but a loud scream of something otherworldly brought his attention back to reality. “Sorry let me introduce myself,” The man raised a brow at him but Dean felt the body weight on top of him become lighter. “I’m Dean and I know how to kill these bitches.”

“Oh?” They heard footsteps come closer and Castiel looked around before they both quickly crawled toward the cornfield. They lay low and held their breath for what felt like forever. 

Eventually, the footsteps got further and further away and they crawled their way back to where they met. Backs against the stack of hay and eyes facing forward towards the cornfield. 

“Cas.” The man whispered to Dean after they both finally caught their breath. “And I don’t know how I got here. But I want to go home. Alive. Preferably.”

“Well, Cas,” Dean held his hand out for Cas to take for a shake but Cas kept their grip. Dean could feel their pulse race between their palms and didn’t pull back either. Instead, he gave Cas’s hand a little squeeze of reassurance, meeting those wide eyes filled with terror but determination—probably a bad combination. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Cas smiled, it was small but Dean wanted to see more of it. “Thank you, Dean.”

Oh. 

Oh no. The sacrifice is cute.

#suptober23 #destiel #destiel au #meet cute #fic #wormstachewrites

[shallowseeker]

The Lebanon timeline where John lives.

///

Dean watches John watching Claire.

They’d run into Jody, Alex, and Claire in Omaha on a werewolf case, and in the throes of Fontanelle forest’s darkness, hadn’t had time to properly introduce each other.

Cas is on his way, and Dean feels a sense of dread at the idea of his approach. Claire’s presence underlines Cas’s angel status and his past crimes.

So far, John and Cas have circled each other like wary wolves, and Dean knows that Claire’s history puts another tick in the Cas-as-threat box.

Mary and Sam follow Jody to the rear of their parameter, and John hunkers down with him and Claire.

“Who’s the cagey geezer, geezer?” she jokes, knocking her shoulder against Dean and nodding to John.

Dean chokes on the word dad, and says, strangled, “John.”

The universe is cruel to Claire, and here, Dean’s got both his parents back. Jody had at least told her about Mary, but he can’t tell her in the middle of a hunt that his dad’s back, too.

“Johnny-boy, hope you got some balls. These werewolves are tough bastards.”

Claire’s nervous, maybe afraid. Last time she’d faced a werewolf, she’d nearly bit the big one. John’s eyes snap to her, wild and intelligent in that John-Winchester-way, like he can clock her nerves.

It makes Dean uneasy.

His eyes stay on her face a long time. Then, he says, too-carefully, “Right. Sure could use that angel on a case like this.”

“Castiel?” Claire says, not able to hide her own eagerness, “Is he coming here?”

John looks somber, like he’s working on something in his head.

“Or that half-angel kid o’ yours,” he says to Dean.

It’s like the deep strike of a piano, and a shadow comes over her face.

In the rapid-fire of the last year and a half, Dean hasn’t spoken with Claire about Jack directly. He hopes to God that Jody has.

Claire cuts her eyes away, moody. John looks satisfied, like a shit-stirring auntie at a family reunion.

#lebanon au #john lives ficlets #claire novak

[luna-writes-stuff]

Angel, Castiel

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Hurt/comfort, s8 e22

Word count: 2935

Tw: Very s8 centric. Mentions and descriptions of injuries. Established relationship, but can be read as platonic! Swearing. I wrote this fic, what did you expect?

Summary: Yes, Castiel is an angel - in every definition of the word - but what if he needs help? What if you need to be his angel for once?

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Angel, put sad wings around me now. Protect me from this world of sin so that we can rise again.”

Metatron was…certainly something. Sitting in the backseat of Baby as Dean was driving back to the bunker made you think of everything you had seen that day. For someone with such a reputation, Metatron was just some guy. You had trouble deciphering him. With most angels it was easy to figure out their goals, but Metatron had been something different. You didn’t know whether to keep your eyes on him or get as far away from him as possible.

You were rudely jerked from your thoughts when the car suddenly swerved, causing you to cling to the chair in front of you for dear life. As the car turned to block the road, it came to a screeching halt, causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

“What the hell, Dean?!” You shouted, your heart pounding in your throat. You were ignored by both the brothers, who quickly got out of the car. You followed suit, shooting an accusing glance at Dean, but his eyes weren’t on you. They were on the figure laying on the road in front of you.

“Holy shit,” You gasped, immediately running towards the angel, kneeling down beside him. “Cas?” His bloodied hand was quick to grab yours, squeezing it tightly. “I think I might need some help,” he groaned out. “Yeah, no shit.” You commented, helping him rest his arm over your shoulder before clumsily pulling him up. His full body weight rested against you, and for once you were great full for keeping up on fitness while hunting with the Winchesters.

“Oh, Angel, we can find our way somehow. Escaping from the world we're in to a place where we began.”

After Sam helped you haul the beaten angel into the backseat, you heaved a sigh of relief, looking at him through the window in worry. “What could have happened to him?” You wondered aloud, a question which Dean just grunted to. “Who knows. Just gotta get him somewhere safe, then get him out.”

You raised your eyebrows at him as he spoke those words, leaning over the car to look at Dean: “Yeah, ignore the fact that he’s your friend.” “Last time I checked, he betrayed us. Again.” He protested, putting emphasis on the ‘again’. Before you could even try to justify anything, Dean had disappeared into the car, leaving you outside with Sam. You cast him a confused look, but he simply shrugged, his eyes set in slight sympathy. “Just leave it.”

The second the both of you had gotten into the car, Dean had begun driving again, the music now creating an almost uncomfortable ambiance in the car. Castiel stared ahead blankly, clutching his stomach tightly. Instinctively, your hand reached for his, trying to see the damage. “I’ll live.” He dismissed, lowering your hand. “I know,” you muttered. “I just want to see.” He didn’t answer you. Instead, he kept your hand in his, refusing to let it go. You opted to leave it at that. You’d help him when you reached the bunker.

Only a few minutes later, you were surprised to feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, Castiel’s heavy head laying there comfortable. With a spiked heartbeat, you went to look for his pulse. Before you could reach, though, you felt his hot breath on your neck, letting you know that he was still alive.

“Did he really just doze off back there?” Sam asked, turning his head when he heard your shifting. You turned your lips downwards in a hesitant manner, unable to see the angel’s face. Sam’s expressions were enough to tell you that he had indeed fallen asleep. You just left him there.

“And I know we'll find a better place and piece of mind. Just tell me that it's all you want, for you and me. Angel, won't you set me free?”

When you reached the bunker, you and Sam had placed him in his bedroom - although he rarely used it. You had spent the night trying to stitch up the remaining wounds, noting how slowly they were healing. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up and ask them about it. So, after two hours, you left the room. Castiel knew where to find you if he had the need to. And you knew he’d be fine for the night.

Sleep, however, was hard to come by that night. You managed to maybe sneak in three or four hours, but the rest was spent staring at the ceiling or getting lost in yet another lore book. Some things were simply handy to know.

You didn’t know the exact time he walked in, but you had already heard Sam in the hall: he was always awake earliest. Three short knocks came from your door, before it opened slightly. “‘Morning, Cas.” You mumbled, sitting up lazily. Even if you hadn’t been sleeping, it was exhausting to get out of bed. As you sat up, he walked in, leaving the door open. “I wanted to thank you for stitching me up,” He spoke, before lifting his shirt, showing you the wound on his stomach. It had healed significantly over night, but it wasn’t gone yet. “Something keeps it from healing fully.” He announced, noting your worried gaze.

“Something we need to worry about?” You asked groggily, swinging your feet over the side of your bed, before sauntering up to him, observing the wound from closer. “I don’t think so,” He guessed, hissing lightly as you traced your fingers next to the stitches gently. You took your hand back immediately. “Some food would do you good.” You tried, walking through the door before looking back, waiting for him to follow you.

“I am a celestial being. I do not require food.” The angel stated, as if this was new information entirely to you. “I know, Cas,” You chuckled. “It was just an invitation for you to join me.” “Oh,” Cas breathed. “Okay.”

“Angel, remember how we chased the sun. Then reaching for the stars at night as our lives had just begun.”

Before waltzing into the kitchen, you wanted to check up on the Winchesters. A whole lot of information got dumped on you yesterday, and you were wondering if they were making something similar to process. However, as you walked into the entry hall, Dean seemed to notice the pair of you, rounding off his conversation with Sam: “Well, I’ll go get you some grub. Keep your strength up.” Then, he walked past you and Cas, without as much as an acknowledgement. You rolled your eyes at him, but walked towards Sam all the same.

“‘Morning.” Cas announced as he followed you, unsure of what to do. When Sam spared him a polite nod, he took it as a signal to keep talking: “I like this bunker. It’s orderly.” “Well, give us a few months,” Sam sighed. “Dean wants to get a ping-pong table.” “Heard of that,” Cas nodded, looking at you for confirmation. “It’s a game, right?” You just smiled at him, affirming his question.

When he went to sit down, he groaned briefly, clutching his stomach. You winced at the sight, not sure if you had to help him or not. “You okay?” Sam asked, noting his discomfort. “My wound isn’t healing as quickly as I’d hoped. But I am getting better,” The angel reassured, finally sitting down. You stood behind him, a notion that went surprisingly natural. "And you’re getting worse.” Cas continued.

Sam formed his lips in a thin line at that, nodding uncomfortably. “Well, two trials down, one to go.” “And the final test, you know what it is?” You had to laugh slightly at that, still flabbergasted from the words spoken a day before. “I have to cure a demon.” Sam answered, the same humour in his tone as your face held. “Of what?” Castiel asked, seemingly not catching the lightened atmosphere. Sam’s face fell slightly, his eyes falling back on the book. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“When I close my eyes, I hear your velvet wings and cry. I'm waiting here with open arms. Oh, can't you see? Angel, shine your light on me.”

“Soup’s on,” Dean announced to his brother, walking back into the room with a tray of…random condiments. “Here we go. I think this is…” He halted briefly, sipping the beer on the tray. “It’s still good.” He concluded, placing the bottle back down. “A half-drunk beer, jerky and three peanut butter cups?” Sam named as he looked at his brother with a small smile. “Yeah, we’re running a little low,” Dean hummed, observing the tray with light disappointment. Again, he walked past you as if you weren’t in the room at all: “I’ll make a run.”

Cas rose from his seat, your arm shooting out to help him. Before Dean could even get on the stairs, the angel’s voice cut through the room: “Dean, I can go with you.”

The Winchester looked at him, his face surprisingly neutral, though he didn’t look pleased. At least he was acknowledging Castiel now. "Dean,” He began. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” The man asked, his expression now turning slightly sour. You did not like the change. “For everything.” “Everything?” Dean repeated, his voice almost mocking. “Like, uh, ignoring us?”

Castiel was silent for a moment, looking at you, lost for words. You didn’t quite know what to tell him, so you remained silent. “Yes.” The angel answered honestly. “Or like bolting off with the angel tablet, then losing it? Because you didn’t trust me?” Dean interrupted. “You didn’t trust me?” “Yes.”

“Yeah,” Dean almost laughed. “No, that’s not gonna cut it. Not this time. So you can take your little apology and you cram it up your ass.” “Seriously?” You countered, almost embarrassed at his words. “Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing.” Castiel tried to defend, but the hunter simply shrugged it off. “Yeah, you always do.”

An awkward cough came from the other side of the room, all eyes now falling on Sam: “Hey, do we have a room 7B?”

“Angel, we'll meet once more, I'll pray. When all my sins are washed away.”

As the two Winchesters left for a certain room 7B, you and Castiel remained stranded in the entry hall. “You know how he gets,” You tried to comfort. “I’m sure he’ll be fine later.” “He’s right to be upset.” Castiel confessed, something you didn’t wholly disagree with, but yet something you didn’t feel exactly similar to. “I betrayed you. Again. I don’t understand how it does not upset you.”

A long sigh came from you as you turned your head to the side: “It does.” You admitted. Noticing his face fall slightly, you forced a sympathetic smile. “Castiel, I know you’re trying to do what’s best.” You told him. “We’re not always on the right side of history either.” “Well, you haven’t betrayed legions of angels and toyed with mankind.” “No…” You trailed off hesitantly. “But making mistakes is a human thing to do.”

“I am not-“ “Yes, Castiel,” You interrupted, unable to resist the grin growing on your face as you noted his everlasting neutral expression. “I am aware that you are now human. I’m just saying that I understand.” He just nodded in understanding, his eyes wandering to the hallways Dean and Sam had just disappeared through. “Are you not angry?” He asked, his eyes not meeting yours.

Were you not angry at him? Perhaps. But betrayed most of all. You figured he’d trust you after everything you had been through, so to see him run off with that angel tablet had definitely upset you. Even when not telling Sam and Dean everything, he’d always talk with you. The whole ordeal had seemed to be some kind of stab in the back, even though you knew he never meant to cause anyone harm. But you wouldn’t lie to him now. Even if you did, he’d know. Thus, you settled on telling him the truth:

“Of course I am. But you were bleeding out on a road and fell asleep in the backseat of Dean’s car,” You voice shifted octave as you pointed to his stomach, still taken aback by the fact it hadn’t been healing completely.

“I am more concerned than angry now.”

“Hold me inside your wings and stay.”

Castiel exhaled audibly, now finally looking back at you. “I tried to help.” He spoke. “I know.” You comforted, knowing he didn’t have it in himself to hurt you or the Winchesters on purpose.

“If you had the angel tablet, they would have come after you.” He went on, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Cas,” You called, but the angel opened his mouth to speak again. “Cas, I understand,” You halted him. “You don’t have to convince me.” Closing his mouth, he gave a curt nod: “I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know,” You repeated, looking at him as you pondered on what to say next. “You know what your problem is? You are trying so hard to satisfy everyone; your siblings, humans, us. You can’t make everyone happy.” “I want to fix things.” Castiel agreed, responding almost immediately. “With heaven and with you…with everyone.” “You can’t fix everything. Sometimes you have to choose sides.”

With those words spoken, you realised how it had sounded. Shaking your head at the statement, you held your hands up, correcting yourself: “I’m not asking you to pick me or the Winchesters. I’d like it if you did, but I’d understand if you want to help your siblings.”

Castiel’s expression seemed to soften at your words. For a celestial being, it had certainly become easier to read him the longer you had been around him. “I’m not sure Sam and Dean would appreciate that.” He mumbled, though visibly thinking over what you had just said. Ripping him out of his thoughts, you grabbed his upper arm, rubbing it slightly until he was focused again.

“Well, they’re not here.”

“Oh, angel, take me far away. Put sad wings around me now.”

However you had tried to help him, it was still clear there was conflict in his eyes. Part of you wondered if he would have come back to you had he not been injured. If he hadn’t been attacked, would he still have sought you out? Or would he have run off on his own path? Would that always exclude you?

You noticed your own attention fading, and how Castiel had still been hanging onto your every word. Thus, you returned to your previous point, blinking twice to clear the situation: “I don’t think the angels would like it if you ran off with us.” “That is correct,” He hummed, then - once more - falling silent.

“It’s the lesser of two evils here, Cas.” You tried to sympathise. “You’re not evil.” He argued, and you resisted the urge to face-palm at his literal understanding. “It’s a-“ But you cut yourself off halfway. “Forget it. You don’t have to choose right now. Figure it out.”

Then, you turned around pointing at Sam’s barely touched tray of condiments. “I’m going to get these two idiots something to eat. Something that’s not liquid and has ‘beer’ written on the label.”

“Angel, take me far away. Put sad wings around me now, so that we can rise again.”

“I’ll join you.” Cas offered, already walking up to you. Then, he suddenly stopped, his voice now hesitant. “If that’s okay.” You just shrugged at him, grabbing your coat from one of the chairs. “Yeah, sure.”

Turning towards the stairs, you checked your pockets for the keys, continuing your steps when you found them. However, before you could reach the first step, Castiel’s voice halted you once more: “Wait.”

Your head turned to look over your shoulder, a concerned expression visible to him. “What’s wrong?” When you saw him nearing you, you turned your body fully around, scared something had happened, and your brain automatically raised to the worst possible situation. It tended to do that around him and the Winchesters.

You had expected a multitude of things, but not for him to suddenly wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Lately, he had been becoming more physically affectionate, a likely side-effect from hanging out around humans, but the motion still took you by surprise. Be that as it may, you returned the embrace happily.

“Put sad wings around me now. Angel, take me far away.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologised, his hands coming to a neutral rest on your back as he held you close. Your heart broke slightly at his words, but you didn’t show it. Instead, your hands gripped the back of his coat tightly, holding onto it in comfort.

“It’s okay, Cas,” You mumbled. “I forgive you.”

You had no way of knowing this, nor seeing this, but had any other celestial being been in the room, they would have been able to see Castiel’s wings wrap around your figure almost protectively, sheltered in a safe cocoon, something that he seemed to do a lot with you around. But with no one around to notice, it hadn’t mattered to him.

“Thank you.” He whispered, before parting from you, his wings giving you enough space to move - even though you wouldn’t know. You didn’t know you had a literal angel watching over you. Maybe that was for the best for now.

“Put sad wings around me now, so that we can rise again.”

#November writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #Castiel #castiel x reader

[dcwildwestfest]

Wild Blue Iris

By Sunkenfox | @Sunkenfox Art by thestarsmakemedream | @thestarsmakemedream-art

Coming to Ao3 on April 7th, 2023

Rated E | 32,400 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Five years after the notorious Winchester Gang went their separate ways, Dean Winchester returns home to Seneca with the hopes of seeking revenge for his father’s death. Setting off to bring his family back together, Dean is joined by a handsome saloon owner with a revenge mission of his own. On the trail, Dean is forced to confront his inner demons and thirst for vengeance and his own happiness when he finds himself falling in love.

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

“You can’t just barge in there, Dean! You didn’t think this through. You never do!”

Dean bit back the anger that formed a lump in his throat. He knew Cas understood the pain he was going through, knew why he needed to do this. “I can’t just sit by and let him get away. He’s in there, right now. This is my chance.”

”It’s your chance to get killed. Nothing more. We’re outnumbered. We got no plan on how to get out of here. Not to mention the rest of the gang is back at camp with no idea Dick’s here.”

Looking past Castiel, Dean could see Dick in the saloon surrounded by his men. It would be so easy to waltz in and shoot him down. But Cas was right. They were ill-prepared, and Dean had no backup besides Cas against what seemed to be the whole Leviathan gang.

Dean looked at Cas and saw the concern in his eyes and calmed enough to form rational thoughts. “If we don’t do this now, I don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”

“Don’t you think Sam deserves to be a part of this, too? He lost his father, just the same as you. We know where Dick is now. It’s going to be easy to follow him and take him down when we are all prepared.” Castiel’s eyes softened as he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “If you go in there, Dean, you’re going to get yourself killed. I can’t lose you.”

The thought of forcing Cas to lose yet another person he loved to the Leviathans made Dean’s stomach churn. Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss against Castiel’s lips. “I know. I couldn’t make you go through that.”

Nodding for Cas to follow him, Dean retreated back to where they hitched their horses. He gave Dick one last look through the window, and accepted that right now wasn’t the time to kill him. Allowing Dick to enjoy himself tonight, Dean found peace in knowing that it would be the last time Dick would ever know what happiness felt like.

#dwwf #deancas wild west fest #supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #fic promo #dwwf 2024

[jackles010378]

Never been kissed:

It had been a easy hunt, which was extremely rare. You Sam, Dean and Cas got back to the motel and you all decided you'd find a local bar and let loose for a few hours. You weren't that bothered about going out but you knew they wouldn't leave you alone, if you didn't go they would only leave Cas with you and well he's not very good at keeping up a conversation for long.

You had a separate room from the boys just for your own privacy. So you took a shower. You couldn't decide how to wear your hair so you just left fall loose on your shoulders. There was a natural curl to your hair so you thought it would look ok.

The boys had gotten ready, well Cas is Cas he never changes out of that trench coat. You can't remember the last time you saw him without it. You heard a knock on your door and told them you'd be there in a minute. You could have sworn you heard the eldest Winchester moan slightly. Ah, Dean Winchester. The man that has stalked your dreams for last 2 years.

Anyway, you grab your purse and head out to the guys "finally y/n, was thinking you weren't coming" Dean said as you notice him look you up and down. But you guessed you were imagining it, why would Dean even look at you like that. To say that you two didn't get on was an understatement. He was always off with you and barely ever spoke or looked at you. So you didn't pursue your feelings for him because you knew he didn't reciprocate them.

Dean drove you all to the nearest bar. You, Cas and Sam went and found a table whilst Dean said he'd get the drinks, yeah more like flirt with the barmaid you thought. Every time you would go out with Sam and Dean, Dean would always ditch the two of you for whatever hook up he landed that night. And every time you'd wished it was you going out that door with him.

Dean brought the drinks over and went straight back to the bar to finish his conversation with Brandie? or was it Mandy, you wasn't listening. You took a swig of your beer and that's when you looked up and saw him kissing her. You couldn't look away either. The way he kissed her had you mesmerized, you always wondered how those soft lips would feel on yours.

Cas had noticed you were staring at something so he followed your line of sight "ah, Dean seems to have caught another one" Sam swung round in his chair "yep, typical Dean". They both looked at you, you had tears in your eyes, "y/n you okay?" Cas asked you. Sam and Cas knew about your feelings for Dean and how it always hurt when you saw him with another women. You excused yourself saying you needed some air.

As you practically ran past the bar, Dean saw you and noticed you were upset "excuse me darlin, I'll be back in one second" he said to the barmaid he just had attached to his face.

Dean pushed the door open and looked around but he couldn't see you. He walked across the parking lot searching for where you went when he heard what sounded like crying. He followed the sounds of your sobs. When he rounded the side of Baby, he saw you sitting on the ground perched up against his car crying into your knees, face covered by your arms.

You didn't hear Dean sit down besides you, you didn't realise he was there at all until he put his arm around you and tried to pull you in for a hug. Your head shot up and you backed away slightly. "Dean, what are you doing out here?" You asked him, "well when I see my friend run out in tears I gotta see what's wrong don't I" you scoffed at that statement to which Dean quirked and eyebrow. "so Im your friend now huh" Dean looked at you confused, he always ignored you, you thought he tolerated you just for Sam and Cas's sake because they liked you. "Well yeah y/n, why would you think we're not friends" you couldn't look at him "you never talk to me, you always seem annoyed with me, if you want me to go I will, if I'm in your way just tell me and I ....................."

Your brain wasn't processing what was happening, but you felt the softest lips on yours. You slowly opened your eyes and saw that Dean was kissing you. The kiss was slow and sweet. Dean pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, you opened your eyes and were met with his hypnotic green orbs. "Wow, I never expected my first kiss to be with you of all people". Dean pulled his head back to look at you shocked "that was your first kiss y/n" you couldn't look at him. He pulled you both up off the ground, he placed a finger under your chin tilting your head up to look at him "I'm honoured to be your first kiss, and I don't want you to leave y/n, I have wanted to kiss you for a while, just didn't think you felt that way about me" again you scoffed at the statement laughing a little "are you kidding me, Im surprised you never noticed how I stare when you kiss other women, how jealous I get when you go home with them, wishing it was me. I have had the biggest crush on you since the moment I met you"

Dean cupped your face with both hands and lent in, "shall we try that kiss again or would you rather me go back to the barmaid" he said raising his eyebrow "I swear to god Dean Winchester you go back in that bar, there will be hell to pay" you propped yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him. The kiss was everything you imagined, not too rough, not too much tongue, the perfect amount of pressure.

You pulled back in need of air and looked at Dean with a smile "what do you say we finish this off back at the bunker, I'll shoot Sammy a quick text tell him and Cas to find their own way home" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss "that sounds like a great idea". Dean pulled out his phone and sent Sam a message, he dropped his phone back into his pocket "y/n, I'm gonna be your first and last kiss, come on sweetheart let's go home". You got into Baby and scooted over closer to Dean who placed his arm around you. You've never been happier than you are right now. To say that you didn't want to go out tonight, you're sure glad you did now ❤️

@kaleldobrev @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @deans-daydream @janineb86 @alternativeprincess94

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #jackles #jensen ross ackles #supernatural #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #dean x y/n