#cas and the light of his life and also dean

[crackdkettle]

omg ALSO in the Benny lives and Dean sends human!Cas to live with him in S9 AU Cas decides that even though stealing blood bags is obviously better than nabbing unsuspecting humans, it’s still not ideal since hospitals and blood banks really need that blood, and since he’s human now and living with Benny, it only makes sense for Benny to feed from him. So then Dean is visiting, and Benny is getting ready to go to work, and Cas is like, “Oh wait, Benny, before you go, it’s been a few days!” and pulls down his pants and sits on the edge of the couch with his legs spread and Benny kneels in front of him, and Dean gets his bluescreening brain online enough to stammer out, “What’s happening here?” and Cas is like, “Dean. 🙄 Obviously Benny can’t feed from my neck or arms because someone might see the puncture wounds, but no one ever sees my thighs when I’m out of the house because my pants are always on.” and Dean is like, “Uh-huh, right, yeah, that makes sense.... No wait, what is happening here???”

#*cut to benny clearly having the time of his life watching dean try to process* #*cut to cas rolling his eyes at dean's denseness before getting impatient and dragging benny's head toward his thigh* #*cut to dean openly staring while going through 864 stages of grief/jealousy/horniness in the space of 7 seconds* #god we could have had it all #benny lafitte #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #spn text post #also dean spends the rest of the visit trying to figure out if this means cas's pants stay on during his dates too then #or if he just only does it with the lights off or what #cas is oblivious to dean's 'subtle' prying and dean learns nothing #benny cracks a rib holding in his laughter

[castielmacleod]

Remember when Cas watched Dean rake leaves while invisible. Not to be dark but in my head he did that while Dean was on the nail. And just let himself watch it happen.

#In my head when Cas gets out of the Empty he one way or another recognises the abuse he suffered from Dean. And how it wasn’t love at all #And finally takes the opportunity to be free of Dean instead of going back #But I think he would go and watch Dean die. Not out of spite #Like he wouldn’t be “happy” about it #He’d probably have complex grief about it especially after everything he sacrificed to save this man over and over #But he would let himself watch just for a sense of closure. If nothing else #Idk it’s 4am #My posts #Dean critical #Safeantidestiel #And I say he’d LET himself watch because part of him would still want to swoop in and save Dean yet again #But he’d allow himself not to #And just.. finally let Dean go #He’d just watch the whole thing emotionlessly #He’d maybe feel bad for Sam. But also hopeful that Sam will be able to move on with his life without Dean controlling it #And he wouldn’t reveal himself he’d just leave and return to heaven and the remaining members of his family #And try to move on with his own life #Anyway no sympathy for abusers <3 love and light

[bedlund]

castiel trans zine. click for quality. bibliography under the cut

2street2car (2021). Romantic Theory. Archive of Our Own. Available at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31427978

@bedlund (2021). There is a crack, a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in. Tumblr. Available at: https://bedlund.tumblr.com/post/667421049623805952/there-is-a-crack-a-crack-in-everything-thats

@bedlund (2022). *lying on my stomach kicking my legs grinning and giggling* cas became something other than an angel because he has a body and the ability to consent to possession. he’s literally the first of his kind (also he’s trans). Tumblr. Available at: https://bedlund.tumblr.com/post/690873746717818880/lying-on-my-stomach-kicking-my-legs-grinning-and

@calamitysong (2020). cas is trans because he came into being without gender and then became a gay man. dean is trans too. Tumblr. Available at: https://calamitysong.tumblr.com/post/635674769551966208/cas-is-trans-because-he-came-into-being-without

Edlund, B. (2011). Supernatural 6x20 'The Man Who Would Be King' Promo. Youtube. Available at: https://youtu.be/TvJd7NCoKVw?si=cwUWr7UdHflZx2ko

Edlund, B. (2011). Supernatural Preview: 'Lies, Omissions and Secret Agendas' Play Into Castiel-Centric Hour by Gelman, V. TVLine. Available at: https://tvline.com/interviews/supernatural-preview-ben-edlund-castiel-213629/

Edlund, B. (2013). Angel Warrior - The Story of Castiel Featurette. Youtube. Available at: https://youtu.be/FqgJYoM_sc0?si=J7am-hrW6r92hTCD

Edlund, B. (2021). “O, Angel” #officeart, sharpie on paper, acetate, Supernatural, Season 8. Twitter. Available at: https://twitter.com/ben_edlund/status/1440730181237305350

Kraaijeveld, K., Gregurke, J., Hall, C., Komdeur, J., Mulder, R. A. (2004). Mutual ornamentation, sexual selection, and social dominance in the black swan, Behavioral Ecology, Volume 15, Issue 3. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1093/beheco/arh023

@marxandangels (2021). If we talk about Cas himself, as a character that’s a result of interpretation, he is a trans man. A trans man who is, importantly, gay and a father. All three of those things are essential parts of Cas as a character. Tumblr. Available at: https://marxandangels.tumblr.com/post/648648117339734017

seperis (2014). Down to Agincourt. Archive of Our Own. Available at: https://archiveofourown.org/series/110651

@steveyockey (2022). #easiest refutation of my life. cas developed into something other than an angel because he literally has a body and the ability to give  #other beings consent to possess it. Fin. Tumblr. Available at: https://steveyockey.tumblr.com/post/680206404343234560

Taleb, N. N. (2007). The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable. Random House Publishing Group. Available at: https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.5555/1324807

@themanwhowouldbefruit (2022). “knowing you has changed me” SHUT THE FUCK UP KNOWING ASS CHANGED ASS BITCH. Tumblr. Available at: https://themanwhowouldbefruit.tumblr.com/post/699695907897262080/knowing-you-has-changed-me-shut-the-fuck-up

Walton, R. (1997). Typographics 2: Cybertype : 'zines + Screens. Hearst Books International. Available at: https://books.google.com/books?id=QWpSKQAACAAJ

if anyone reads this far and is interested in a copy hit me up

#myedit #zine #castiel #fan zine #spn #supernatural #dta #rt #me.txt

[hollybell51]

Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

Navigation

Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth. 

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least. 

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion. 

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly. 

“Would you say that, Cas?” 

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat. 

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?” 

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.” 

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?” 

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward. 

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.” 

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?” 

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.” 

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–” 

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.” 

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid. 

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.  

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–” 

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?” 

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed. 

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.” 

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing. 

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.” 

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.” 

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed. 

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–” 

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.” 

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening. 

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent. 

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.” 

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.” 

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?” 

“Maybe.” 

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.” 

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet. 

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.” 

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.” 

“Because I scared away a prostitute?” 

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.” 

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?” 

“Feelings?” 

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie… 

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Someone who wants you.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Not just your money.” 

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.” 

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks. 

“Do you want me?” Cas asked. 

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own. 

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right. 

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect. 

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious. 

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties. 

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again. 

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you. 

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.” 

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought. 

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip. 

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.” 

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body. 

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human. 

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.” 

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face. 

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added. 

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.” 

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?” 

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.” 

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest. 

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push. 

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones. 

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?” 

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you. 

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired. 

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.” 

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.” 

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.” 

“Bone graffiti?” 

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts. 

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips. 

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment. 

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly. 

“Keep going?” 

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing. 

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection. 

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again. 

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm. 

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.” 

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.” 

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.” 

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.” 

“And did it?” 

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh. 

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly. 

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Yes, you did cum?” 

“Yes, yes I did.” 

“Was it good?” 

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.” 

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel. 

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways. 

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis. 

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw. 

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light. 

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?” 

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

You smiled. “Yeah.” 

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?” 

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“I want you to feel good too.” 

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs. 

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking. 

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe. 

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request. 

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one. 

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining. 

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then. 

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?” 

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor. 

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing. 

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door. 

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again. 

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving. 

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own. 

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.” 

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement. 

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.” 

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick. 

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.” 

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more. 

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips. 

You smiled. “Ready?” 

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you. 

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.” 

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long. 

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.” 

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts. 

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.” 

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.” 

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation. 

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–” 

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle. 

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest. 

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself. 

“Sorry, sorry I–” 

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–” 

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display. 

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval. 

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.” 

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?” 

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?” 

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.” 

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance. 

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him. 

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now. 

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?” 

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—” 

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin. 

“Alright?” you breathed. 

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that? 

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand. 

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–” 

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer. 

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind. 

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling. 

“Alright?” you asked. 

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently. 

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?” 

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.” 

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.” 

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.” 

“No?” 

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.” 

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about  the rest? What do you think?” 

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.” 

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?” 

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.” 

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction. 

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.” 

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.” 

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?” 

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.” 

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder. 

“G’night,” you whispered. 

“Good night, (Y/N).” 

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet. 

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.” 

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SCREAM (YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IT’S HALLOWEEN)

SUMMARY : it’s Halloween and it’s also your birthday, and Dean’s made a lot of promises about how it was gonna be the best night ever.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, fluff, tiny bit of choking, nipple orgasm

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

A/N : happy Halloween (if you celebrate) !!! title from avenged sevenfold and muse song. my sister convinced me to write this LOL. this is pretty much a Drabble, lol, leaving it open ended basically, you’ll see why… (also, when I write I pretty much assume everyone’s watch Supernatural at least once.. I never put any spoiler disclaimers bc I forget… lol but, yeah. pretty much everything I write will mention something from any and all seasons) XX

The Bunker was chilly this Halloween night, and for the first time in years, Y/n and the Winchesters weren’t tangled up in a hunt. The monsters, for once, didn’t take advantage of the holiday to get away with their usual tricks and modes of preying.

To be fair, their numbers had dwindled significantly since Jack became ‘God’ or whatever the hell happened. Hunting wasn’t nearly as hard as it was before, as if even monsters had free-will bestowed upon them. As if they’d chosen a better life rather than one in which they are hunted and killed.

Good for them. Everyone wins.

The only prey tonight is Y/n, but as far as she’s concerned the running is only part of the fun, and getting caught wasn’t something she’d hate.

As she breathed erratically and ran as fast as her platform heels could carry her across the concrete floor of the Bunker, her heart raced as if she were on any other hunt. But what made this hunt different was the spark of excitement that tingled up her spine and the flush of her bare skin.

She stopped at the kitchen and caught her breath momentarily, looking around the place as everything flashed red. To add to the thrill, mostly. She walked on shaky legs to the refrigerator and took out some water to drink it quickly. As she swallowed down a fair amount, she could feel the cold water travel down to her stomach and she sighed as her thirst and the dryness in her throat disappeared.

After about twenty minutes of hiding and running away, she was on high alert, her senses were heightened, and she could easily hear his footsteps—even over the alarm Dean had set off in the Bunker to scare her even more.

She quickly made her way out of the kitchen after setting the half-empty water bottle on the metal counter, checked both ways and began making her way into the dungeon, wondering if maybe Dean was there. If he could just catch her already, the dampness of her lace panties wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Especially since she could easily feel it with the cool air inside the concrete walls of her temporary home.

Much to her disappointment, Dean wasn’t anywhere to be found in the dungeon or anywhere around there. Even if he’s the one that’s supposed to be looking for her, she just wanted to know what would happen once she was caught by him.

Besides, her feet were starting to ache, her legs were practically turning to jelly at this point, and her sweat was starting to feel uncomfortable. It didn’t sound very sexy to her, but she knew Dean would still jump her bones despite that. It was a nice feeling, to be loved… by him specifically.

She had to wonder if he was even trying.

Just forty minutes ago, he had texted her to take her clothes off and to wear the lingerie set he’d placed in Sam’s room for safekeeping. It had been in Cas’ room before that, but once Sam left to be with Eileen, Dean placed the white box on Sam’s bed. A huge, royal blue bow glittered in the middle of the boring room, perfectly positioned on the box with her name and a sexy note from Dean promising to make it the best birthday ever.

She’d waited in Dean’s room excitedly in the light blue lingerie and when he’d made his way to her, she couldn’t believe what he had in mind, what his plan was. He had some heels in his hands and she gaped up at the Ghostface mask that covered her boyfriend’s handsome face. He was covered from head to toe in a thick black robe, laughed at the look on her face, and got down to put her heels on her.

“How’s that, sweetheart?” He asked, his deep and hot voice muffled behind the mask.

“Uh,” she tried, then just decided to stand up and moved her legs around a bit to test the comfort. She nodded and he tugged her towards him, the smooth and cool material of his robe brushing against her soft and warm skin. She could feel every inch of him, and wondered momentarily if he was completely naked underneath, but instead of asking him flirtatiously, she just gasped.

She stumbled backwards for a few steps when he began to walk forward with her still in his arms. She chewed on her bottom lip when he had her pressed against the wall. She could see his green eyes through the thick black cloth that covered his eyes, the way they were looking down at her with so much amusement. If she had to go by those crinkles by his eyes, she had to guess he had the hottest, smuggest look on his face.

And he’d be right to.

He lifted her leg up slowly, held her knee by his hip, and squeezed her closer to him by her waist. Her heart raced at the sight of him and she felt wetness grow between her legs when he slotted his hips between hers.

All the while, she just clung to his arms, staring up at him in surprise and completely aroused by his calculated movements. Even her breaths had gotten irregular and he hadn’t said or done much of anything, but that was the effect of Dean Winchester.

“Run,” he murmured deeply, releasing her before stepping away.

She blinked up at him, “uh, what?”

He looked away, laughed softly, and grabbed her wrist. She chewed on her lip and let him spin her around gracefully. With a nice slap on her ass, he repeated the word ‘run’ much more sternly than before. She looked at the hallway in front of her in surprise, then looked down at herself in lingerie, then back over her shoulder at him in his costume.

He jerked his head to the left, quietly telling her to go.

And that’s why she was running now. They were half-assed attempts most of the time, but when she spotted him behind her, she felt her stomach flutter, and started to break out in a thrilled sprint across whatever room she was in to get away from him. When he chased her, the small hairs on her body raised above her skin, a shudder of excitement ghosting up her spine. It was way too fun to end the game, but getting caught piqued her interest, too.

Dean wouldn’t just start this whole game only for it to end at the capture. No, he was far too creative and way too frisky for that. He had something in mind, something mind blowing, some big treat at the end regardless of the outcome of this chase. That much she knew.

She made her way out of the dungeon, speed walking through the halls, checking her surroundings. At this point, she was considering the removal of her heels. They were very sexy, but definitely not ideal for running. Also, they practically announced her location with each click on the concrete floor, despite her efforts to walk awkwardly in attempts to muffle the sounds.

She had already checked the infirmary, the library, kitchen, bathroom, shooting range. She basically paid a visit to every room in the Bunker and had no luck in bumping into Dean in any of those places.

She thought about what to do about the heels as she went to the one place she hadn’t checked—the garage, where Dean’s favourite sexy, old cars remained. They were perfect for hiding in. Of course, Dean could be waiting to pounce on her from within any one of them, if he was looking through each room. She hoped for the latter, it would give her feet some rest from the painful running. She simply couldn’t walk in heels this tall for very long.

She quietly made her way up the stairs to stand at the entrance of the garage when the alarms stopped and the lights flickered off. She cursed softly under her breath, but Dean already gave his location away by shutting off the loud noises and distracting lights.

Once she slowly set foot deeper into the garage, she quickly scanned around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She walked to the end of the garage where the black Bentley S2 was and looked around one last time with her hand on the door handle before sneaking inside the backseat of the vehicle.

The leather squeaked beneath her bare skin as she slid across and shut the door once she was inside. She wiggled around to lay down over the beige seat and relaxed at last. Bending her knee, she lifted her leg up to finally remove the heels. Mentally, she apologised to Dean when she took them off.

She lowered her legs and groaned when she looked at the tiny space between the backseat and the front seat. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Impala’s, really rather small, way too small for her to slip between comfortably on her back. If she were on her side… but no, that was out of the question.

She rolled her ankles, stretched her legs, bent them… She did everything until the aches in her legs mostly disappeared. And, wow, she could fall asleep right about now. Except there was a loud bang from something in the garage that made her jump, one of her hands immediately flying to her mouth to contain her hysterical laugh and a yelp.

“I know you’re in here,” Dean taunted nearby. She removed her hand to smile curiously and raised a brow. She wished she could sink into the car seat right about now, but also wanted to lift herself up to see him, but decided against it. Instead, she waited as he looked through every car, every second feeling like a lifetime and yet when he gently pushed against the car she was in with a loud bang, she shouted.

His chest was heaving, his gloved hands were placed on either side of the door where her feet were and she started to laugh instead.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted in a raspy tone, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask. He proceeded to open the door of the car and she sat up, her heart thumping excitedly when he peeked inside and saw her feet covered only in the white thigh highs. “Your feet okay?” He asked, then grasped her ankle, she barely nodded when he tugged her roughly towards him by her foot.

She quickly gripped the seat as the leather squeaked against her ass, heating up her sensitive skin. “Ow,” she chuckled, echoing his own apologetic laugh. He grabbed the seat and leaned inside, his other hand slid up her calf to grab behind her knee. She licked her lips and her face flushed as he parted her legs. Wetness pooled between her thighs, her clit pulsed at the ideas running through her head, instantly becoming aroused as he climbed inside the car, settling into the spot between her legs.

She reached out for his robe and tugged him forward. He reached up and brushed her soft strands of hair away from her shoulder, then let his hand slide to the nape of her neck to grip on it. She pushed out her chest, silently begging for his eyes to drop down and admire her. “You caught me…” she trailed off, feeling a tingle run down her spine when his gloved fingers brushed against her scalp.

“I did…” he teased, tugging her hair. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching to shut when she felt the pressure in her skull run dully to her clit.

The darkness made everything better. She could hear his breathing, her own just as quick as his.

“Are you ready for your first birthday gift?” He asked, disappointingly untangling his fingers from her hair to slide his gloved fingers teasingly down her neck, to the strap of her bra.

She shivered and bit her lip, felt her nipples tightening against the lace of her bra as her fingers slid down the front of her strap. “I thought this morning… with the crepes and with the way that you—”

“Well, this is gonna be your first gift of the night,” he interrupted her, sounding smug. Slowly, Dean slid his hand beneath the strap to drag it off her shoulder, and kept his hand there to push her down onto her back.

“How many gifts do you have for me?” She asked, watching him tilt his head thoughtfully.

“How old are you?” He asked rhetorically as he lifted her thighs above his.

She stared at the mask covering Dean’s face with confusion, then it twisted into incredulity. The soft material of his gloves slid up her sides teasingly, then right back down to playfully snap the garter she was wearing against her soft skin.

“You look so fucking hot, baby,” he groaned, hands sliding slowly over her belly, up her ribs, then coming together over her lace-covered breasts. He squeezed them playfully, felt her thighs become tense against his, and heard her breath hitch softly. “Was that fun?” He asked quietly, pulling the cup of her bra down, she inhaled shakily and whispered a ‘yes’.

Gently, he brushed his thumbs around her nipples, one uncovered and the other still safe inside the lace cup. Still, she felt a tingly sensation spark up on her breasts and between her legs. She murmured his name and arched her back slightly, reaching between her legs to grab his waist.

“I haven’t made you cum like this enough times, have I, sweetheart?” He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers and pinched them, slowly teasing, building up the arousal. She looked at him, face covered in a mask, but there was something so arousing about the darkness, the car, his hands on her chest, the material of his gloves creating a perfect sensation… about wearing the lingerie he bought for her, hearing his ragged breaths moggling with hers, occasional gasps and quiets moans filled up the backseat.

“We never have time…” she agreed, dazed with the yearning. She squirmed, wanting to feel more, but instead of removing his gloves he lowered the other cup and played with them both, used the same techniques to erect them and make her feel desperate, kindling her orgasm.

“Please,” she moaned, fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging up.

“What?” He asked softly, playfully exasperated by her grip. He knew what she wanted as she searched for the edge of the cuff and began tugging downwards.

“I want to feel you,” she murmured, thumbs gently brushing over his pulse point where she could feel his heartbeat thrumming swiftly against the pads of her fingers.

“I thought you liked the feeling like this…” he murmured, removing one hand from her chest and sliding the other upwards to teasingly squeeze her neck. He teased her clit over the lace of her underwear with gloved fingers, her breath catching and barely moving past his gentle grip on her neck.

The teasing didn’t last and neither did the fuzzy breathlessness of his grip on her neck. He removed his gloves quickly and ghosted his fingers sensually up her body again, showing her the feel of his warm, calloused hands on her flushed skin.

She hummed softly, almost a pur, and placed her smaller hands above his, squirming as she attempted to hurry his hands. He only laughed at her attempts, ignored her little whine, and slid his hand under the baby blue bra. He lifted the lacey bra up her chest slowly, so the lace would teasingly brush against her sensitive nipples, and then made an arch over her cleavage.

Her gently used his thumbs to rub the underside of her breasts first, building up the feeling of his warm palm before cupping her breasts. With a gentle squeeze of her breasts, he murmured little praises to her, and tapped around her nipples.

She wiggled impatiently, her excitement growing by the second, heat rising from head to toe like conduction from the warmth of his teasing fingers. The little taps slowly moved inwards, it was gentle, and felt so good, but she wanted more. No amount of squirming from her made Dean accelerate his touch, minute by minute, he kept with the same technique, and finally switched to rubbing her nipple, pinching, twisting..

“More, Dean…” she whined, feeling irritated at being on the edge of her orgasm, like a wave that never came.

“Like what?” He asked playfully, tweaking her nipples to shut her up half way through her ‘fuck you’. Her knees pressed into his sides needily, her back was arched again and he rolled his eyes in amusement when she reached up to his face to pull off the mask. “Tell me first,” he murmured, leaning backwards, getting away from her hands.

“I need…” she laughed softly, “your mouth.”

“Good girl,” he praised tenderly, moving one hand away from her breast.

He moved the mask out of the way with one hand and leaned down over her body to flick his tongue against her nipple a few times. Her knees pressed harder into his sides and she moaned loudly, hands sliding into the hood of his cloak to grip his hair tightly. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, teeth pressing roughly around her flesh, tongue lapping at the hardened bud, and made his cheeks hollow as he sucked harshly, pinching her other nipple roughly with his hand.

Finally, she orgasmed, groaning out a long fuck as she shivered and pulled his face closer to her chest. It wasn’t nearly as intense as if he’d stimulated her clit or any of the spots inside her vagina, but it felt amazing nonetheless.

He smirked against her chest and waited for her body to relax before he pulled away from her chest with an obscenely wet sound and lowered the mask again. He rubbed her hips comfortingly and squeezed her flesh.

“You’ve got some real talent with that tongue of yours and those fingers,” she told him breathlessly, sitting up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“That was more than clear to me this morning,” he agreed with a laugh, gently running his hand up and down her back. “Hold onto me, sweetheart,” he ordered suddenly and wrapped an arm around her waist. She clung to him a little tighter and wrapped her arms around his waist as he made his way out of the backseat of the car.

When he stood straight, rather than setting her down, he kicked the door close—abandoning her heels inside, and began to walk toward the exit of the garage. He turned after a few metres and set her down onto the cold hood of the pale green car. She hissed softly at the coldness of the metal against her skin and let go of him to stare so the confusions into the darkness where Dean was standing.

“Can’t carry me anymore?” She teased, biting her lip.

“You’re really gonna be mean to me?” He snorted, dropping his hands to her thighs to play with the little, light blue bow on her long socks.

“No…” she pouted, reaching out for his hips to bring him closer. “I need you..” she whispered needily, feeling uncomfortably wet. He quietly unclipped the garter from her socks, gently trailed his fingers above the soft hem of them to get to the other side and do the same. Excitement began creeping up in her again and she bit her lip.

Languidly, he slid his hands up her thighs, snapped the waistband of her underwear and trailed his fingers over her pelvis. He hooked his finger under her underwear, felt wetness as he brushed past her folds, with a little moan, he pulled her underwear to the side and thumbed between her folds to gently brush against her clit.

She gasped quietly, her arms shook the longer he teased her. Torturously, he lowered her underwear and let them stay around her parted knees. She slowly lowered herself onto her back with his hand on her ribs pushing her backwards gently.

He lifted her feet to lay fat on top of the car, staring down at her silhouette, clearly making out her lingerie. She parted her legs as far as she could with the underwear around her knees. His fingers ghosted along the inside of thighs, as he kneaded her thighs, he murmured, “one down…”

➥ standing next to you

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickless @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @laylaackles

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dean winchester masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you

[alexiswritingstuff]

Is that... lipstick?

Pairing: Castiel x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: While trying to have a morning like any other, the Winchester brothers notice a certain fact about the reader they apparently hadn’t themselves. Though once they did, it was something... very unexpected. 

Content/Warnings: implied intimacy. nothing explicit unless you want it to be. implied alcohol consumption.

Also this has not been proofread again so be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such.

A/N: okayokayokay I had this idea from that trend on tiktok where a person would show themselves fixing up their lipstick and then pan to the reason it was messed up in the first place (their partner) and immediately just came up with whatever this was.

Cas is like my go to when writing rn but If someone wants like a Dean x reader version of this... let me know...

Waking up always felt like the most difficult part of the day. A sort of sluggishness continuously pulling at every muscle within your body. A dull ache that pulsed across the temple as if in harmony with a heartbeat. 

There was a list of things that begged you to stay in the comfort of a bed, but you found yourself up and about anyway, ending up in the kitchen with squinting eyes as soon as the harsh lighting consumed your vision. 

You had a milk carton in one hand, while your other held onto a bowl of dry cereal, and you titled it to the side, watching the liquid pour over the bites of paradise until some began to float. 

Sam was sat at the table to your right. His eyes were practically glued to the screen, his fingers typing away like he was doing a test for how fast he could do it. A sound that didn’t exactly help your head, even though there was the hood of a hoodie covering your ears.

“Yo, Sam, you’re the smart one,” you started after returning the milk to its cold home. The frantic pressing of keys ceased all at once, after at least 3 more words had been spelled out. “... What?”

“I’m not... I’m not repeating that-- How do you cure a headache?” you questioned instead, grabbing the spoon you had set down earlier. Sam’s chair squeaked lightly as he leaned back. “Um...”

“I’m pretty sure you could just take an ibuprofen. Or, you know, put a wet towel on your head? Something like that.” 

The younger Winchester sort of looked at you for a minute, though he could only see your back. His eyes analysed your posture, the way that you moved, the way that you stood. And then they narrowed.

His chin slightly tilted up, “Did you drink a lot last night?”

A scoff passed through your lips immediately. “I honestly don’t have an answer to that.” The first mouthful of cereal had been brought to your lips and the second the food touched your tongue, your shoulders relaxed. A sigh seeped through your nose. “I wanna marry the person that made cereal.”

The bowl that really was utter paradise was now in your hands, your fingers gripping onto it for dear life as you finally turned yourself round so that you could lean against the metal island.

“You know that person is dead and has been for... many years, right?” Sam spoke with furrowed eyebrows, the laptop in front of him now long forgotten. “Never stopped me before.” was all you had said before another spoonful was shovelled into your mouth.

At this point a set of footsteps had started echoing through the hallway, and after Sam looked at you with either disgust or concern, or both, his eyes went to the doorway.

“Whoa.” Dean’s feet halted for a moment as he looked between his relieved looking brother and the gremlin thing that was practically hunched over a bowl. “What kind of meeting is this?”

You swallowed, “One where people stop asking questions first thing in the morning.” you responded lazily, gathering more of the contents into your spoon. Dean raised his eyebrows for a second, only to nod his head a second later when his brother sent him a shrug. 

“Well,” He continued his previous movements and was now officially in the kitchen, beginning to make his way through the space between the island and the table. “As long as I get breakfast out of it, I---”

Dean stopped almost as fast as he had started. And soon enough, by the time your mouth was yet again full, it seemed that the man was now stood to your side.

It wasn’t until you looked up that you had actually noticed those green eyes of his were aimed right at you, even though you hadn’t uttered a word. You could only blink for a moment.

“What?” you finally questioned, the word barely audible through the mush. 

But Dean still stared, mouth agape and eyes flickering over almost every inch of your face in a way that made you want to fold in on yourself. You swallowed again, “Wha-- What? What is it?”

The man before you took about a step backwards, allowing Sam to have you in his line of sight. And then he practically mirrored Dean’s expression, his eyebrows beginning to raise as if they were aiming for the ceiling. “... oh.” 

“Oh.” Dean said himself.

Then suddenly, as if the final cog had turned in his head, the face that was once frozen in shock had morphed into this shit eating grin that curled in a beyond terrifying way.

He started laughing. 

It wasn’t his usual huffed one, a giggle, or even those little ones he did when making fun of someone. This man was full on cackling in a way that had him bending at the knees.

Sam himself did a bit better at hiding his reaction to whatever it was they were seeing, though his lips sort of trembled as they tucked very tightly together.

You placed the bowl onto the island behind you, arms now crossed over your chest, as you looked between the boys like a disappointed teacher. “Am I going to have to wait a year for you to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Oh-- Oh, man, this-- this is-- Oh, my god, this is great!” Dean strained out through even more hard laughs while you looked back and forth between the brothers, desperately trying to gage what had happened. “What?”

Finally, after asking the same question over and over again for what felt like the millionth time at this point, and after Sam managed to clear his throat without cracking, he spoke up. “Have you, uh...”

“Have you looked in a mirror at all this morning?”

You shook your head slowly, your eyebrows now very much furrowed if they weren’t before, “No... Why?”

Dean couldn’t even properly speak at this point, as every attempt to contain that urge of laughter ended in yet another fit. “You-- Man, I want-- Ha! I want a picture of this.” he managed out after a few tries, and even began to pat at his pockets as best as he could in his condition.

Though, the laugh and the lack of understand of what the hell was happening made you feel very self-conscious in that moment... You had to admit that it was very nice to see Dean like that, let alone hear that sort of laughter that hasn’t been heard in a very long time.

After staring at the man who was still in absolute hysterics for a second longer, your eyes travelled back over to Sam when he cleared his throat again, and even scrunched his nose in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Yeah,” he started through a slight hushed voice as he nodded his head, “I think it’s best if you go look, just-- No reason.” 

It was literally first thing in the morning. Your energy levels didn’t even exist at this point, and all you really wanted to do was just eat your damn cereal in peace... but nevertheless.

You complied. 

Your gaze flicked back and forth between the brothers one more time before you pushed yourself off of the island and moved towards the doorway, your feet dragging with every step.

Another round of laughter erupted as soon as you had left the room. 

~

Various grumbles joined by the hum of electronic power were the only sounds that echoed through the annoyingly bright halls.

Though the air that circulated was cool, it never seemed to ease the warm rush of embarrassment that burned around your body, despite not even knowing the cause.

After walking through the maze like hallways within the bunker, that felt even longer when tired, you had found yourself in front of the large dark door that held the shower room behind it.

With all the strength you could muster in your state, you turned so that your shoulder could lean on the wood. Your hand grabbed at the handle that was so cold underneath your fingertips that you had almost immediately retracted. As if electrocuted.

The door swung open within the next second, but as soon as it had done so, instead of taking a step inside, your hands now jolted up to cover your eyes, “Jesus!” You blinked more times than anyone could count, your eyelids barely even making it halfway before they had to shut again.

The walls in the room were basically all white, meaning that the light emitted from the ceiling just purely bounced around every nook and cranny. “Might as well be looking at the damn sun.” you muttered to yourself, an irritated sigh following after.

Once you had at least mildly managed to get adjusted to the disgraceful lighting, you allowed yourself to shuffle into the equally cold room.

Soon enough, your heavy body ended up at the sink, your hands grasping along the rim of the bowl in an attempt to stabilise yourself when another ache had pulsed along your forehead.

You took in a deep breath through your nose and held it there for a few seconds. Your eyes landed on the mirror that sat before you, the blinking beginning all over again as the reflection being seen was only blurry.

But thus, after a good minute of being in that bathroom, your body allowed itself to adjust to everything that continuously attacked your senses. 

One last blink was all it took before you could see yourself in the glass as clear as day... And everything that came with it.

“Oh... my god.”

Your face was brought closer to the mirror within an instant, your previously tired and heavy eyes becoming fully open in alarm as they were now the ones to search across the skin of your face.

On almost every single feature, that you could see in front of you, was an imprint from a certain cosmetic.

Most entirely followed the outline that very clearly resembled the shape of lips, but others were smudged, some even dragging to where another had been placed.

Lipstick.

There was an odd texture that you had felt tighten the indents of your face this morning, but never in your life would you have imagined that this was the reason. You thought your skin was just being weird.

Your body was frozen. No matter how hard you thought in that moment, there was absolutely no recollection of the previous night. Or who even owned lipstick.

The eyes that stared back at you were almost wild now, a sort of panic surging through your veins at the lack of any memory... Though, it faded into something else as fast as it had started.

Your hood had slipped off the back of your head after your sudden movement. And now, upon gazing at the new areas exposed to you, your eyes ended up travelling even lower. Which now left you realising yet another thing.

The marks weren’t only on your face.

Your heart was purely hammering in your chest, all of the previous confusion and disorientation from earlier fuelling the fire that was panic, as you slowly pushed yourself backwards to stand up straight.

There was a print of lips halfway under the neckline of your hoodie.

Your hands raised, almost frightened, to grip at the fabric. And soon you had it between your fingers, realising now that the texture of that too had been altered from stains that you were guessing happened during everything else.

With a slight shake to your breath, and a squeeze of the material in your grasp, you gingerly began to pull it away so that the skin of your torso was properly revealed in the light--

It was slammed back to your chest within the next second. An audible gasp had even spilled from your lips as you found your gaze in the mirror yet again. Eyes still wide, almost unblinking.

“Holy...”

Your feet took a stumbled step away from the sink, your fingers still tightly clutched to your hoodie, as if it was a set of pearls. But even that couldn’t hide the set prints that apparently travelled a lot further than you thought. The more parts that you looked at, the more stains you found.

Your body had been a canvas to a painter you couldn’t remember.

At this point, you were stood in the centre of the room. Every emotion felt morphing into one thing that spread from your head to your toes.

And then you turned, twisting slow on your feet until your hazed eyes landed on at least one of those large showers that seemed more appealing than they had ever in the morning.

How the hell did you get lipstick off?

~

To rid the skin of countless stains took longer than you had originally thought.

Most of your body felt raw. As if you had scrubbed it with sandpaper for hours on end, though it was just your hands. All was worth it, however, as the previous marks were no more.

For the first time throughout the entire morning, the air that engulfed you within the hallway relieved the warmth that clung as you walked through it, your fresh set of clothes slightly sticking to your body more and more with every step.

You ruffled your towel through your damp hair, the ache in your temple now caused by your eyebrows that were furrowed due to the multitude of thoughts that filtered both in and out of your mind.

An act that almost had you walking right past your own bedroom.

Another grumble murmured through your lips as you turned to the side, opening the door like you had done with the one for the shower room. And then you walked in, the fuzz in your mind apparently stopping you from noticing the light that illuminated its contents.

One that previously wasn’t on at all.

Your head shook, as if all the action going on in your mind would just let go.

Instead of getting closer to figuring out last night's mystery, you were getting further away... Or nowhere at all.

You went round the edge of your bed, taking your towel in both hands before stretching the material out completely so that you could drape it across the radiator along the wall.

A breath was brought slowly in and out of your lungs after taking a step back from the warmth. Your spine uncurled from it’s miserable slouch, your arms practically going limp by your sides while your eyes fell closed.

You reached backwards after a moment, hands patting through the air until you managed to locate the mattress that was screaming your name. But instead, you just sat yourself down. Attempting a final try to get to the bottom of everything. “Come on, man.” 

At this point, your head was lowered onto your hands that had previously been clasped together moments before. 

You tried everything. Thinking back to what you had done before the timeframe of the... event, who it could’ve been. I mean, Sam and Dean would surely have asked questions if it was someone they didn’t know, right?

Still, even after all of that, and the extra seconds you took to wrack through your brain for even the slightest memory from last night. Something that could just spark your brain and give you the answer. There was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“Dammit.” you breathed out, your body now falling limp against your lap as your shoulders deflated with it.

There was almost this feeling of shame that pierced through every other one.

It wasn’t so much so about the fact that you couldn’t remember if you had gone out, or brought someone back into your own home, as much as it was about the fact that you had shared such an intimate experience with a person. And you couldn’t remember a single thing.

Who the hell--

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up within a second, your body following suit in a way that made it seem like you were about to go flying into the wall when you had managed to stand. “Jesus!”

The heel of your foot had twisted so quickly that it almost gave your skin carpet burn. Your arms were up and ready as you looked throughout the room to find the intruder...

And then your eyes landed on your bed. More importantly, those familiar set of blue eyes that stared right back at you.

Your shoulders eased back down as they had done earlier, your calloused hands raising before rubbing at the soft skin of your face, that felt even nicer after that shower.

“Okay, yeah-- I think Dean is right, man. You’ve gotta stop just appearing like that.” you practically groaned out as you pinched at the bridge of your nose.

“Well, I... I seem to have been here before you walked in.”

Your fingers dragged away from the warm skin beneath it so that you could allow your gaze to find the man, who was most definitely not helping your confusion. “Huh?”

Especially when you had actually located him.

Because of your previous glance, you had thought that Cas was just sat on your bed for whatever reason he desired.

Though now, as you properly stared back at him, finally registering that sort of grogginess that further emphasised the gravel to his voice when he had spoken, you had noticed that he was in fact under the covers.

Your covers.

His torso was practically twisted just so that he could meet your eyes while his own were narrowed, adjusting to the light, and almost looked puffy as if he had just woken up.

Your eyebrows were most definitely furrowed if they weren’t before. “I thought angels didn’t sleep.” You were about to say. Another mystery that you had to solve... but instead, just as the words were going to roll off of your tongue, your brain had fully taken in the appearance of the person before you.

Castiel’s hair was dishevelled, heavily contrasting the way it usually sat, which in itself was most unusual.

And then you saw it.

No words could even begin to pass through your lips in that moment. No matter how hard you tried. There wasn’t a sound, or even a vowel.

“Y/n?” Cas questioned before clearing his throat, slowly pushing himself upward until he could sit upright and even did his signature head tilt when he was properly facing you. “What’s wrong?” He fought with an urge to yawn.

You couldn’t move. Your eyes were just glued to his lips. A set that seemed to be layered with a sort of faded deep red which smudged severely over the skin surrounding his mouth, especially towards the corners. “Oh.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of fullness to your voice.

It appeared that your mystery was solved.

You had found your mystery painter.

“Oh.”

#castiel #castiel supernatural #castiel novak #Castiel SPN #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x gender neutral reader #supernatural castiel #supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x gender neutral reader #dean winchester #supernatural dean #Sam Winchester #supernatural sam

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

She Stays (Part 3)

Summary: Could you please write one where student!reader appears in Supernatural universe taken from normal life and becomes an angel? Pairing Sam/reader?

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Sam x student!/angel!reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: Wow this is only how many years late? I know it’s been asked for many times for more of She Stays and here it is! Please enjoy this final part!

________

“Ow,” you heard Dean shout from the kitchen. When you came in he was sucking on his finger. “Cut it,” he mumbled, moving to the sink to run it under some water. He hissed as the cold hurt and you yanked his hand away.

“That needs stitches,” you said, Dean letting you twist his hand around. He smiled as he nodded approvingly.

“Yes it does,” he said, your hand reaching out and pulling a fresh towel to wrap it in. “You’re coming up to speed on the medical side of things,” he said. “Sammy’s been a good teacher.”

“I like when Sam teaches me,” you said, pulling him along to grab a first aid kit. “You on the other hand...”

“I’m an asshole who doesn’t give you an inch of slack, right?” asked Dean, putting on his mentor face. “Sam would go too easy on you in fights and target practice. You know it too.”

“I know, Dean,” you said, fiddling through the bag to find a needle and thread. “I don’t feel like I make any progress with you though. Sam tells me I’m doing a good job at least.”

“Kid,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist before you grabbed the supplies you needed. “You’ve come a long way in two months. I might even let you go on a salt and burn by yourself.”

“Really?” you said, eyes lighting up. 

“No, but only because Sam would kill me,” said Dean, chuckling as he moved your hand to the towel. “I know you can stitch and blood doesn’t bother you. Go ahead and try.”

“No, Dean,” you said, jerking your hand back. He frowned and feigned sorrow.

“Guess I’ll just bleed out since, Fledgy wouldn’t help me,” said Dean, holding up his finger.

“I need Cas,” you said, Dean scowling hard as he hoped onto the counter. The hunting stuff, that wasn’t so bad compared to knowing you had these abilities. You were still too scared to use them without Cas close by, afraid of hurting someone. 

“I trust you,” said Dean, holding out his hand. “I’m in worlds of pain here, Kid. Help a guy out.”

“Dean, I don’t want to,” you said, reaching for the medical bag again. “Angel stuff is not your area, remember, it’s Cas’.”

“I’m also bad cop,” said Dean. “Now try or I’ll work you so hard today so you’ll be too tired to go on your first date with Sammy.”

“Thank dad you’re not my soulmate,” you said, Dean chuckling as you grabbed his wrist. “Just don’t move or anything.” Dean stopped playing as he moved the towel back and you saw it still gushing blood. You thought of how big a cut it was, how it was deep and throbbing. You pictured it in your mind and then how it was supposed to be. 

Dean shut his eyes as you let warmth trickle from your fingers and told your grace to heal him. Dean jerked a little but when you pulled back he was good as new.

“I didn’t tell you about the bruise on my knee,” said Dean, shoving his pants up and seeing the black and blue mark missing.

“I wanted it to heal whatever was wrong with you,” you said a little timid. It felt intimate to heal someone, like you were touching their pain for the briefest of moments.

“I won’t tell Cas if you won’t,” said Dean, hopping off the counter. “Now it’s time for your surprise.”

“Please no more push ups today,” you said, Dean chuckling as he pushed on your shoulders.

“You’re going on your first date with your soulmate tonight, kid,” said Dean. “I’m taking you to the mall to go pick out whatever you want to wear. Then I’ll tell you a bunch of horribly embarrassing stuff about Sam you can bring up at dinner if you feel so inclined.”

“You’re such a good big brother,” you said, Dean already moving the two of you towards the garage.

Dean had surprisingly been a good shopping buddy. You picked out a few simple black dresses but Dean had found one with an open back that you fell in love with. You weren’t sure at first how it would look on you but once you were in a pair of heels even you couldn’t help but think you looked hot.

Leaving your room wearing it that night, knowing it was just you and Sam in the bunker, you felt a little silly. You weren’t going out or anything, it was dinner at home. But Sam had asked if you could wear a dress so your first date wasn’t in flannels and ripped jeans and you wouldn’t deny him that request.

“Hi, Y/N,” said Sam, working over the stove. “Could you grab...” he trailed off when he spun around and saw you. You could feel him light up as he lost the ability to speak.

“Plates?” you asked, Sam nodding, his eyes glued to every part of you. “Sam, I’m not that pretty.”

“You’re gorgeous,” said Sam, a little breathy. “You’re always beautiful but...I’ve never seen you dressed up before.”

“Slight improvement over you sweats and tee from that first day,” you said, stepping beside him to reach plates from the cupboard.

“You’re comparing apples and oranges babe,” said Sam, reaching up and grabbing the too high plates for you, an excuse to get you close dawning on you. “I love both those outfits. Anything really. I can almost see your wings in your back like that.”

“Sam,” you said, looking down shyly. “I don’t have my wings yet.”

“Yes you do,” he said, ignoring the cooking and running a hand up to the back of your neck. “They’re just very small right now,” said Sam, his hand moving lower and lower until his long fingers scrapped over the ridge of your shoulder blade.

You giggled as it tickled, the motion pulling something from you that you hadn’t quite felt before. 

“Beautiful snow white,” said Sam. “They’re right there, just under the skin. I can’t wait to see them when you’re full grown.”

“How do you know what they look like if you can’t see them?” you asked, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder. You would stay like this forever, him touching this vulnerable spot you didn’t know you had, making you tingle and smile all over.

“I just know,” said Sam, tilting your head back so he could cup your cheek. “I’m glad we took it slow. Got to be best friends first before trying this.”

“There’s no trying, this is...” you said, letting your angel side take over for a minute. “Cas told me something, about fledglings.”

“You’re very pure creatures,” said Sam. “It’s okay, Y/N. He told me too.”

“Then you know we can’t get frisky or anything like that at all,” you said, backing away from him, seeing the hurt on his face. “Where I came from, it didn’t matter but here...you’ll be stuck with me forever.”

“Spending forever with my soulmate? Yes that does sound awful,” said Sam, taking a step closer wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m not scared, Fledgy. I will never pressure you one way or the other. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a preference for how things will turn out between us.”

“I’m not too young?” you asked, Sam unable to fight back a laugh.

“That’s...that’s what you’ve been worried about?” asked Sam with a smile. “I’m barely older. Fledgy, I love you. Nothing, absolutely nothing will ever stop that. Before you ask, I love you for you, not because of this soulmate thing. I’ve felt that perfect at home feeling with you every second I’m with you since the start, before we touched.”

“Can we eat dinner later?” you asked, the burnt smell of chicken filling your nose. “I’d like to do something with you first.”

“Make me yours, Y/N.”

Dean got home after midnight, only slightly buzzed as he found you and Sam eating pizza on the counter in pajamas.

“How’d the date go you two?” asked Dean, stealing a piece of your leftovers. “Going to be a second one?”

“Yup,” you said, Sam eyeing you up and down.

“Yup,” said Sam, a smirk on his face.

“Is this some couple thing or some angel thing?” asked Dean, watching the both of you. “Or did you two do it finally?”

“All of the above,” you said, Sam smacking your arm playfully. “Hey, someday I’m going to be stronger than you ya know.”

“That’ll be fun in bed,” said Sam, winking as Dean looked ready to gag. “Fledgy’s growing up,” said Sam, holding up a single perfect snow white feather. Just like he’d said it be.

“Angel’s getting her wings, huh? All you two had to do was go at it?” asked Dean, genuinely curious about the fledgling rules as they seemed to differ than a normal angel.

“Actually, it kind of...made me more human in certain areas,” you said, wondering if Dean would be angry. “Mating as a fledgling, with a human, it turns off that angel bit that let’s me...live forever. Normal life expectancy for me now.”

“Makes sense,” said Dean, both you and Sam raising an eyebrow. “Why would Chuck make soulmates that don’t get to be together when it’s all said and done? You two must really like each other to do that.”

“He’s okay,” you said, bumping into Sam’s ribs with a smile.

“It’s not so bad having an angel looking out for me,” said Sam, holding onto your feather like it was precious. 

“So you get anything else new while I was out beside some feathers?” Dean asked, silently reaching out to Sam asking to look at the one in his hand. Sam handed it over carefully as Dean inspected it. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s kind of cool.”

“Too bad you can’t see them like Sam,” you said, moving your left wing to tickle his arm, still so small it didn’t jut out past your back, Sam smirking and Dean looking on confused.

“Don’t stay up too late having angel sex, we’re going to work on werewolves tomorrow,” said Dean. “Night Sammy. Fledgy.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a full day a head of you,” said Sam. “Make sure to carve in some time for your boyfriend if you can.”

“I can always make time for him,” you said, brushing your wing up against his arm again, making Sam laugh. 

“Let’s go to bed,” said Sam, hopping off the counter and picking you up.

“I’m not tired though,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I said go to bed, not sleep, Fledgy,” said Sam with a wink. “I got too much energy I need to burn off before I even think about curling up with you all night long.”

__________

#sam #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #sam one shot #sam winchester one shot #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #sam x #winchester #sam fluff #sam supernatural #sam spn #sam winchester supernatural #sam winchester spn #sam supernatural one shot #sam spn one shot #sam winchester supernatural one shot #sam winchester spn one shot #sam winchester x #luci in trenchcoats

[doctorprofessorsong]

carving deep blue ripples by dothraki_shieldmaiden @dothwrites (Explicit, 85k)

I am a sucker for Stanford Era Dean and a creature Cas fic, so this one feels tailormade to my interests.

Dean finds himself hunting alone after his Dad sends him away with the Impala. It was bad enough when Sammy walked out the door, but now his own Dad has sent him away. But Dean’s a hunter, so that's what he's gonna do. A chance encounter with Cas, another hunter, evolves into a partnership and, perhaps, if Dean can just let go, something more. But Cas has a secret that threatens to tear them apart.

This one has great mythology, top tier monsters and so much delicious pining. Dothraki_shieldmaiden manages to incorporate so much delicious canon into this adjacent fic that you will be gnawing at the walls. Seriously buckle up. It's a great ride.

Heavyweight by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 206k)

Look, Mallory has the unique ability to write versions of Dean and Cas that crawl into your brain and set up residence, but these particular ones are just *chef's kiss* perfection. Deeply unwell over each other, off-putting and sometimes objectively terrible and yet I love them to my bones.

Set in the 1920s against the backdrop of the golden age of boxing, Dean is a light heavyweight champion looking to make his name in the heavyweights. But the reappearance of his secret ex, Cas, threatens everything. Cas left town under the cloud of a scandal. Left DEAN. And now he's back to try and restore his name.

The pining. The push and pull. There were times where I thought a happy ending was impossible but she did it. She really really did. There’s horny sparring. There are suits and fancy prohibition Era parties. There are VIBES. Seriously this one is just so freaking good.

When I Knew You by FriendofCarlotta and xfancyfranart @friendofcarlotta , @xfancyfranart (Explicit, 54k)

Time travel love stories are tricky and sometimes they hit for me (as you can probably guess from my name) while sometimes the don't. This one was an absolute homerun. Dean and Cas are both so deeply lonely and there is this sense of desperate intensity that is woven through the story that will male you feral.

Dean's working to try to put together the cracked pieces of his life after the one two punch of losing his dad and his business. But he's off to a rocky start when he learns that the prior owner of his new house died suddenly.

Even stranger, a shimmering light appears in his living room and suddenly he finds himself face to face with the guy, somehow having traveled to the past. In stolen moments, they discover that maybe happiness isn't as elusive as it felt. But the time is ticking. Can Dean save Cas from his fate, and if so, what will happen to them?

Dean Winchester and the Stolen Tupperware by MalMuses @malmuses (Explicit, 35k)

It's been a hot minute since this one came out and you may have already heard about it as a result, but this fic is just a fluffy, pure delight.

Cas is a single, nerdy professor whose idea of a wild Saturday night is watching dashing Dean Winchester, a real life Indiana Jones type adventurer archeologist, on YouTube. Dean is looking for some stability and just hoping to find a place to establish a career that doesn't involve constantly traveling. Sparks and awkward cuteness fly when they meet.

This one is perfect for a low angst love story. Also, Dean and Cas will make you deeply fond (and Meg in this fic can step on me).

Night at the Impala Theater by Speary @spearywritesstuff (Explicit, 52k)

It's difficult to explain what is so great about this fic without revealing more than I want to about the plot because there are some delightful and twisty bits. Suffice to say, it's a fun ride not just because of Dean and Cas, but the really fun side characters (Especially Rowena, my beloved, who is amazing and witchy).

The story revolves around Dean, a lonely guy running the family business - a historic movie theater he inherited from his Dad. But his life is changed when he finds a mysterious film series on his doorstep. The film noir flick follows a smoldering PI named Castiel. For some reason Dean can't get enough of the movies. And yet, all attempts to track down any information about the series is frustratingly bare. Where will his obsession lead? Not telling. Go read it. :)

torture is your name on my lips by theseancequeen @theseancequeen (Explicit, 4.6k)

This fun little one-shot smutty yet emotional fic explores a world where Demon Dean summons Cas after years of separation and they hook up while both lying about the depth of their feelings. It's a magnificent blend of angst, softness and need that ends on a deeply satisfying and surprisingly hopeful note.

Scorched Earth by AmberXBoone @amberxboone (Explicit, 155k)

Distraught over confirmation that his father intentionally started the fire that killed Mary Winchester (and nearly Dean and Sam), and then used his position as a police officer in a corrupt system to cover it up, Dean decides to give John a taste of justice by burning him in his home. He's a murderer and he fully expects to pay. But a chance meeting with burnt out DA Castiel Novak changes both of their loves forever and suddenly they have something to fight for. Can they take down the corrupt system or will Dean be locked away?

The plot of this fic alone is a ride. But what really brings this one home is the impeccable use of canon characters. I love these versions of them all so much. And it's truly a delight to see everyone join together to fight the corruption and save Dean (whether he deserves it or not cause he definitely doesn't think he deserves to be saved). The fic is also broken up into short chapters which makes it super readable if you are the type who picks things up for one scene and then puts it back down (could never be me I binged it like i was on fire myself but I admire it).

The premise is dark, but it's the light moments that make this fic really shine.

Check out my other fic recs at @riversrecs

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic rec #destiel fic recs #deancas fic rec #deancas fic recs #spn fic rec #supernatural #spn

[velvethopewrites]

Happy destiel/castiel day! Here, have a drabble of warm fluffy fluff to start your week off right! September 18th, baby! (I’m a dork, especially for that angel!) 🤗🤓😇

Just Cas

“You know, I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Cas stops rinsing out his coffee cup and glances over at Dean, sure that the confusion is clear on his face.

“You walking into that barn. Changing my life. Making me doubt all the life choices that led to me being unable to tell you how smokin’ hot you were.”

Cas turns back and drops his head, smiling. He finishes the remaining few cups and turns around as he dries his hands. He takes a deep breath and leans back against the kitchen counter, making sure to keep his expression neutral. This is the same dance they do every year and Cas loves it.

“You didn’t think I was “hot”, Dean. You were scared, confused, and more than a little pissed off, as a matter of fact.”

Dean smirks as he stands up from the table, a knowing look on his face. “Okay, yeah. Fair. But later on, every time I replayed that scene in my head you only got hotter and hotter, babe.”

Dean moves forward and wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, smelling of sunshine and leather. Basically he smells like Baby after he’s given her a nice cleaning and long drive to ‘stretch her legs’. Unsurprisingly, it is also one of Cas’s favorite scents. Dean leans forward, heat and mischief in his eyes.

“We could do a reenactment today, in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. We could dig out the old trench from the back of the closet, light some sparklers and go to town.” As if to prove his point, Dean leans in even closer, bringing their bodies into contact.

Cas snorts before he can stop himself, his neutrality over the subject disappearing like the soap bubbles down the drain behind him. “Really? You want to be intimate while I’m wearing that coat and you’re…what? Holding cheap and dubious pyrotechnics behind me? Dean.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to re-capture the romantic moment we met, Cas. Nothing wrong about that. If you want, I could pretend to stab you again.”

“With a knife or with something else?” Cas deadpans, hearing his voice go deeper even as Dean’s eyes dilate in reaction.

“Hmm, we’ll leave that part open for discussion.” Dean moves in again and they’re suddenly kissing. Cas thinks how glad he is that he gets to have this. Gets to have Dean. Oh, if only his younger, angelic self could see him now…

Dean eventually breaks their kiss and waggles his eyebrows, making his handsome face look silly and playful. Yet he’s still beautiful. “Well, what do you say? Up for some hanky-panky in the middle of the day to celebrate the anniversary of your entrance into my life, O’ Angel of Mine?”

Cas bites his lip and doesn’t say anything, tilting his head for old time’s sake as though he’s debating his next move. He gently takes Dean’s hand and turns him around to lead him from the kitchen. Yes. He will take this time to be with Dean. As a present to himself. As a present to both of them.

And later, when they are both sated, naked, and still tangled in the sheets of their bed, he will tell Dean anew all the ways that he’s changed him - from that blunt, cold unfeeling angel into this, whatever he is - a flawed, no-longer-bound-with-celestial-intent being that somehow loves his simple life. Just as it is. Dean is still Dean and he is finally, just Cas. Loved and known, at last.

Tagging @fellshish and @canonblastedships @clarkenting for some reblogs, help a strange sad writer girl bestie out. 😇🥰

#fan fic #destiel #happy castiel day! #September 18th #spn #my writing #drabble #destiel-ficlet #dean and cas #fluffy #Castiel #Just Cas #Just Dean

[deansandromeda]

rewatching lazarus rising and holy shit cas immediately out showed every other supernatural thing we'd seen in all the seasons so far... unassuming man in trench busts the lights and strolls right on through your open fire and then all of a sudden he's sent bobby to the floor with a tap of his fingers and then he's turning around to dean with his big blue sincere fucking eyes all "we need to talk dean... alone" and dean can do nothing but stare because cas was just something so other in such a overwhelming awe inducing way and dean had definitely almost never experienced something so earth shatteringly shocking in his life... cas pulls his holy grail find demon knife out of his chest without a trace of being affected and dean is left to just stare.. and then cut to cas reading dean like an open book and laying it out like "you don't think you deserve to be saved" cause he's held his soul in his damn hands he knows this man !! like the connection was immediately so strong for dean cause cas was terrifying but he was also enticing in a weird way just cause he was so unlike anyone dean had met before and he already knew dean more intimately than anything ever before !! my eyes

#anyway #and then they fell in love and saved the world with it #lazarus rising #spn #4.01 #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel

[backroadboy]

At The End Of All Things

"You know, Dean, I–" Cas pauses, his brows furrow. "I don't want you to feel like you have to carry this all on your own, because you don't. We're all stuck here. We are all hopeless and scared, and– I know it isn't much, but...I am glad it's us." "Yeah, I– me too, man. Me too." And who was Dean to want more than this? - or - The world is ending, and there is nothing Dean can do about it, but he isn't alone. He has Cas. They have each other. Dean just needs a little time. Because this story is, above all else, about hope.

Read more on Ao3

if you want to read a story about Dean and Cas at the end of the world tiptoeing around their feelings until they don't? well, this is the fic for you.

Snippet under the cut:

Dean tries to ignore the disappointment that leaks into his bones when he arrives and realizes that the lights in the cabin aren't on yet. He shakes his head and laughs at himself. This is ridiculous. Dean closes the door behind him and turns on the lights. It takes a few moments before the lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling turns on with a faint click. 

The place is decent. Most of the cabins have a similar layout, a big living room with a small kitchenette situation, a bathroom, and a bedroom or in Dean's case two bedrooms. They had managed to make themselves at home the best they could with what they had, and living with Cas turned out to be much easier than Dean had thought. In the shelter of these walls, it almost felt like they were living a normal life. Cas and Dean had spent hours on their shared sofa, planning and researching ways to stop the end of the world, but they'd also spent an equal amount of hours just talking, drinking, and simply... being. Dean justified their little roommate situation as something necessary for them to make progress in their big plan to get Sam back. So sharing a cabin with Cas had been, above all, a matter of convenience. 

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

Dean jumps slightly at the sound of the voice he'd recognize anywhere. "Jesus- fuck, Cas!" He puffs before turning around. Dean catches sight of his friend's silhouette – all broad shoulders and messy hair – in a corner of the room. 

"You look terrible." 

Dean can hear the amusement in Cas' voice as he pushes himself from where he is currently leaning against the doorframe of their bathroom. He walks a few steps in Dean's direction, and Dean moves without thinking, meeting Cas halfway, taking him in a tight embrace. Cas returns the hug without hesitation, and Dean feels his body relax against strong and comforting arms. On instinct, he buries his face in the crook of Cas' neck and takes a deep breath. Cas smells like cedar wood and smoke, he smells like soil and sweat.

Dean is finally home. 

"Good to see you too, man. You look–" Dean begins, but stops when he gets a better look at Cas under the artificial light of their kitchen. He glimpses at the dried blood on Cas' temple, then the black eye, and his busted bottom lip. 

He grabs Cas' shoulders, maybe a little too roughly, "Woah, what the fuck happened to you, man?" 

Cas just shrugs, eyes tired, but a soft smile adorning his lips. He loosens his grip around Dean's shoulders and takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides. The loss makes Dean frown, his hands move up on their own accord. It takes him a second to realize what he is doing, but when he does, Dean relaxes his face and crosses his hands over his chest. He leans against the kitchen counter behind him instead. 

Smooth, Winchester. Real smooth.

#I am so sorry i keep posting this #but the link I used stopped working #this story is veryyy much centered around dean coming to terms with a lot of feelings and wanting to do things right with cas #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #my writing #destiel fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[gilverrwrites]

Supernatural Taste and Smell Headcanons

I included a lot of characters (I think 24?), but if your fave didn't make the cut, just send me an ask!

Dean

Smell: Leather, cinnamon, and the kind of musk that only comes from an axe body spray, cause you know what man only buys whatever is quick and easy at the gas station. He’d also smell like gasoline.

Taste: Malty like beer, but sweet in the way bbq sauce is sweet.

Sam

Smell: I just feel like (when he’d not hunting) he smells clean, ya know? Citrusy and woody, kind of like D&G light blue, with undertones of like a ‘fresh’ scented fabric softener.

Taste: Kind of fruity but tart, like a berry smoothie.  Also just a little bit of like garlic, or mustard.

John

Smell: That man is a smoker, and you can’t tell me otherwise – at least later in life, way after the marines, and losing Mary. He always has a stale smoke smell on his clothes and lips. I recon he uses old spice or similar as an aftershave, so also like cloves/sage.

Taste: Again smoky, ashy, but also oaky and malty like bourbon.

Mary

Smell: Citrusy like Sam but darker, smokier (joke not intended) with hints of like jasmine, bergamot, and a little bit of vanilla. 100% the kind of smell that wraps you up if you come in for a hug.  

Taste: Chocolate, specifically the kinds with nuts and caramel, woman has a sweet tooth.

Castiel

Smell: I feel like all angels smell at least a little like parma violets, or some kind of sweet and subtle floral smell, be especially Cas. On top of that, he’d have like other earthy scentes, like honey,  patchouli, maybe a bit of amber.

Taste: Coffee, always coffee. When human/when he eats; grape jelly, and honey.

Jack

Smell: Like Cas he has the sort of clean, floral scent to him. I also think he would smell of peppermint and like a yankee candle version of warm vanilla. He just has a cosy, familiar smell to him.

Taste: Again I think minty, additionally like white chocolate and rose/flora flavours.

Bobby

Smell: Like old books, burnt candle wicks, motor oils, and nose hair singing whisky.

Taste: More than anyone else on this list (including Crowley) Bobby tastes like whisky. Not the good stiff though, that’s only for special occasions. He taste like Jim Beam and Jack Daniels.

Crowley

Smell: Like a bonfire!!! Smokey, warm, woody, with a hint of burnt sugar.

Taste: 100% Whisky, and dark chocolate.

Charlie

Smell: Charlie smells like she just stepped out of a fantasy book, like wildflowers, and peppercorn. Like strawberry and blackcurrant wine.

Taste: Like a vegan alternative to Nutella, creamy, chocolatey, nutty.

Meg

Smell: Surprisingly soft and clean. Milky, with almond and peach. Just a hint of leather and cedarwood underneath.

Taste: Salty and sweet, anise: like a strawberry liquorice.

Ruby

Smell: Like cedarwood, ginger, and pink pepper. Pleasant but sharp, and strong. Like it pulls you in from across the room.

Taste: Bold and sweet like cabernet sauvignon, starkly contrasted by pepperoni and cheesy pasta.

Lucifer

Smell: Similar to Jack, in that he smells clean and minty. However, his is sharper, harsher. There is lime, and moss, and mahogany.

Taste: Like pure Moroccan mint, with that like sweet sourness you get on things like a tangfastics or a sourpatch kid. Like if you’re not expecting it, or you taste it for to long it will make you squirm.

Gabriel

Smell: Like walking into the kitchen of a bakery just before opening and they’re prepping everything. Mocha, malted sugar, rich caramel, creamy vanilla.  

Taste: All of the above again! Just so sweet and creamy. Like a spoonful of sugar.

Raphael

Smell: Very similar to Cas, floral, but less earthy, and more sterile. Like aloe vera and antiseptic.

Taste: Again, very clean. He has a flavour the way cucumber has flavour? Refreshing, clean, but not notable.

Michael/Adam 😍

Smell: Kind of like the ocean, meets the forrest. Musk, white lilies, salt, collided with pine, sandalwood, and cedar. Cold, but familiar, ya know?

Taste: Hear me out: Fruit loops, and Dr Pepper. Like Michael has little say over what they eat, that’s all on Adam. And after the initial, ‘I haven’t eaten in 1200 years, I’m gonna eat everything I craved’ has worn off. He’s just like, a normal guy (who does not need to eat because he shares his body with an immortal angel). So, I can see him mostly reaching for snacks that make him feel good, that remind him of his mum, or his childhood, something comforting; like sugary cereals and fizzy drinks. I love them, I will take no criticism.

Rowena

Smell: Like an apothecary. Rich and indulgent. Very aromatic with lots of deep woody tones, sweet cherry, dark rose and other florally scents.

Taste: Like a bottle of mataro, or Nebbiolo wine. Spice, cherry, plum, smoke. She both smells and tastes intoxicatingly expensive.   

Chuck

Smell: Kind of musky, cottony, leafy. I don’t really imagine him smelling too strongly of anything.

Taste: Summary and tart, like a sea breeze cocktail. (Grapefruit, cranberry, lime – an acquired taste)  

Amara

Smell: Similar to Chuck, I sort of envision an absence of smell. Maybe just hints of amber, sandalwood, and a musky citrusy scent.

Taste: Like a white dessert whine, like Riesling. Dry but sweet. Honey, and pears.

Billie

Smell: Bergamot, rose, silk, and cocoa. Inviting and pleasant, but with an undertone of darkness.

Taste: Very similar to scent, sweet and warm but with an aftertaste of something bitter; blackcurrant and dark chocolate

Benny

Smell: Robust (Copper, ginger, tobacco,) but enticing (amber, cardamom, cinnamon).

Taste: I mean, I have tried really had to not add blood to any of the previous entries, but Benny undeniably tastes like blood.

Kevin

Smell: Not good. Pre-prophethood, not so much; I imagine like mint, green tea, jasmine, the kind of smell you would expects from a reasonably priced aftershave. During prophethood, the aftershave is long forgotten; its more fried chicken, old paper, and forgetting to shower for 9 days.

Taste: Like redbull, chexmix, and mouthwash.

Eileen

Smell: Like peaches, and roses, rich chocolate, and strong coffee.

Taste: Chocolate and coffee again, but hints of sparkly summer fruits.

Ketch

Smell: Like high end British aftershaves only the royal family know off, something with notes of fig, and oud, and other pretentious smells. The small of cigar smoke, and leather follow him around too.

Taste: Like earl grey tea, and dry gin.

Balthazar

Smell: Kind of like ketch, some high end and expensive (if he actually had to pay for it). But woodsier, and fresh. He would also have that hidden undertone of violet.

Taste: Creamy and hazelnutty, but there’s a constant aftertastes alcohol, and something metallic to him, no  matter what comes first.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural headcanon #supernatural headcanons #spn headcanon #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural angels #supernatural archangels #supernatural demons #gilverrwrites

[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

[hauntedpearl]

pyromaniac dean au always on my damn mind bc i saw this post by @autisticandroids and my brain went hmmm what if Lisa and Ben were in the pyromaniac au. and like yes okay technically i thought we were doing like a s1 thing but also this is an au so who cares no rules.

anyway. what if in between John dying and Jess murder there was like this small period of time when dean did kind of stop setting people and things on fire, but like it didn't stick and also Lisa and Ben were involved probably possibly. like v close to canon parallel. i am still thinking about why he would stop the arson, even temporarily. but I think he should. I think cas should also have started stalking him at this point!!! this is p much fully reassembling the fic events but also MMM IT'S GETTING MORE FUN I THINK!

thinking out loud again. and like with Ben it was a) dean going insane about protecting ben from hunting to the point that he is john-like with him for the opposite reasons — normal parental overcorrection in people I think tbh w you. and b) he did inadvertently cause whatever harm befell those two and then he had to, like, functionally murder them and then he just kept going like that.

w my arsonist dean, it really is just all about control and trying to ground yourself in some version of reality when you're coming unmoored. he has an obsession with fire from a young age and sets controlled fires bc he's fucked up about fire and what not having control over it can do. he becomes a firefighter bc in his head that is also a way to control it. he starts committing crimes when his father dies bc that is a trauma that kind of sends him reeling ala empty spaces dean and like doing this thing where he's orchestrating the lives of these people is doing sth to him I think. he's projecting on everyone and he's saving himself but it's like never enough.

so the only reason he would have to stop arson would be if he was able to, like, exercise that control over his life in some way. a stable relationship dynamic is good, a ritual is good, a kind of mindless droning on of life where everything is exactly as he expects it to be is good, it's grounding. I think ultimately it doesn't work bc it's not good for the other people in the situation. like!!! obviously!!! also it's just not sustainable. it's impossible to truly control every aspect of your life and dean cannot handle the slightest bit of deviation from his Plan™. like so I think the break can be slow bc he starts freaking out over small things like someone not turning off a light or not locking a door or something like that. but it's all a v mild reaction all things considered and within the realm of acceptable. but also I think Lisa is On Edge bc she's not an idiot.

thinking about what would push dean over the edge when he's in this domestic farce of a situation. like I thought about maybe ben getting into his office or something — places, things, he's designated as Personal and like Don't Fucking Touch It. and it's like bc he's in such a precarious state of mind, he's like twigs and duct tape yk? so perhaps he blows up at the kid. and it's like literally nothing. it could just be a really cool looking zeppo or whatever that's on his desk and Ben takes it bc he just wants to show off to his friends or sneak out and smoke a cigarette like a normal 12 y/o. anyway he blows up at the kid and maybe Lisa is like nope. get out. that's it. line crossed.

or maybe he does have a come to Jesus moment almost immediately and they Talk About It as a family and he's like trying to make amends or whatever. either way. glass is cracked now.

idk how but I think it would be fun if there was another fire now in this house (lolololol IM SORRY i just think everything dean touches should be on fire bc of him I think the universe can affirm that to him over and over let him hurt everyone he loves and then go crazy like!!!) and like smoke inhalation CAN cause a coma!! (well like it's cyanide and/or CO poisoning technically but yk.) so maybe ben does go into a coma. maybe dean and lisa look at each other and Lisa like lowkey knows he's doing fucked up shit but she's also like I am not killing myself and my son over this get out like i don't wanna see you I don't wanna hear from you go get your head on straight somewhere and if you think you can handle being normal then maybe we can talk but no get out.

and dean leaves bc he also senses that she senses that sth is v wrong with him and about him, and he realises that he's really just gotta find some way to fix his fucking life and he tries to change so he tries to go find sam and then he kills Jess (still not sure if the fire is on purpose or an accident!) and becomes full crazy i think.

ps: just like as a random possible addition to this already convoluted au, cas being the one to somehow laterally be involved in causing the fire and also the rescue w lisa ben (for canon parallels also bc i just think he's so funny in this fic like why isnhe doing this??? no reason he's just a freak and he's obsessed.)

pps: honestly in the state that he is!!! jess' fire can fully not be his fault, but he still is around and Fails To Save Her and sam could just end up putting the pieces together for other stuff and he connects the right dots but like his main dot is not connected to all that!! but bc he's also obsessive and crazy he's like IM GONNA KILL YOUUU

anyway. ANYWAYY.

#pyromaniac dean au #random additions #lisa & ben things #spn posting #b you are so smart you are always making my brain go brrr but like i don't know where it goes lmao so sorry if this is nonsense #ALSO GENERALLY. DON'T @ ME I KNOW THIS AU IS GETTING NUTS #but realistically im never gonna write it so it's just gonna get weird additions that spiral from now on!

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 16 | Two Person Love Triangle

Secret Admirer | NannaT (AO3)

Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,627 Main Tags/Warnings: Valentine's Day, Fluff and angst, Secret admirer Summary: Cas has a secret admirer and it's driving Dean nuts

An Angel's Tale | @seidenapfel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 30,175 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fanfic Writer Castiel, Fanartist Dean Winchester, Two Person Love Triangle, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, President Castiel (Supernatural), Custodian Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Fix-It, Angel Wings, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Alcohol, Dean Winchester Has Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mutual Pining, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: After being Dean’s roommate for over a decade, Castiel can’t go on like this anymore. He leaves their shared home and flees to Europe for a year, no longer able to deal with his feelings for his best friend in such close proximity. Left behind heartbroken and grieving, Dean distracts himself with Charlie’s favorite fantasy book series. Intrigued by the tale of an angel and a hunter, Dean stumbles into the realms of fandom and fanfic. For the first time since high school, he picks up his drawing utensils, and, not before long, signs up for a fandom big bang. Dean is thrilled to be paired with his favorite author. Chatting reveals that Dean isn’t the only one who is head over heels in love with his best friend. In jest, they make a deal: They confess their feelings to their friends, and if that doesn’t work out, they’ll try their luck with each other.

Go Down With This Ship | @porcupine-girl

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 31,354 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings, Epistolary, Online Friendship, Online Romance, Tumblr, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Two Person Love Triangle, Identity Reveal, Librarian Dean, Dom/sub, Dom Castiel, Light Bondage, Rimming, top cas/bottom dean (fun fact: This was the first fic on ao3 to use the two person love triangle tag! I found the term on TV Tropes.) Summary: Since he has to stay deep in the closet to protect his job as a children’s librarian in conservative Wichita, Kansas, Dean’s main outlet for sexual frustration is writing and reading slash fiction for his favorite show, Devil Boys. When he starts corresponding with AngelofThursday, another male slash writer in his ship, he really is just looking for friendship… but when it seems like more might be on the table, he’s not going to turn it down. If only he didn’t also have a crush on Cas, the hot volunteer at his library branch…

Salt & Iron | @abi-cosmos

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 36,221 Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Online relationship, Two person love triangle, Mutual pining, Depression, Drinking to cope, Love Confessions, Dom/sub undertones, Dean Winchester wears panties, Canon divergence, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Dean is lonely since Castiel became human. It’s been six months of throwing himself into cases, pining around the bunker, and radio silence ever since they parted ways. Charlie takes matters into her own hands, signing him up for a hunter’s networking website where he meets new hunter Steven. They start a friendship, Dean enjoys his online companionship and Steven seems to understand what he needs without ever having met him. When things heat up between the screens, Castiel is brought back into his life, and Dean soons finds himself face-to-face with secrets and sin.

Love, Dean | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 48,050 Main Tags/Warnings: Gay Dean Winchester, Closeted Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, Closeted Castiel, Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Kid Fic, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Threesome - M/M/M Summary: Dean has a job he’s good at, and people he loves. Really, he’s got most things a man in his thirties could wish for. He also has a huge secret: he’s gay. The only one who knows is his best friend Charlie. Dean is content to keep it that way, until he strikes up an anonymous email friendship with a colleague who’s also closeted and struggling to come out. As Dean’s feelings for his new friend grow, he begins to wonder if it might be time to let himself be seen.

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Mature Word Count: 63,433 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, forest ranger/author!Dean, librarian!Cas, idiots to lovers Summary: For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409.

American Rebels | @valandrawrites

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 78,973 Main Tags/Warnings: Professor Dean Winchester, Graduate Student Castiel, Goth Castiel, Tattooed Castiel, Pierced Castiel, 2 person love triangle, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Anonymous Sex, Bathroom Sex, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Eventual Happy Ending, Dean/Cas Switch Bang 2022 Summary: Graduate student Castiel Novak shows up excited for his American Lit course titled *American Rebels* taught by the Dean himself! But the man who arrives is none other than Cas’ anonymous bathroom hookup from the summer. Professor Winchester cannot figure out why the hot, weird, tattooed, and pierced guy who fucked him within an inch of his life in the Roadhouse bathroom is in his favorite class. And why does he insist on using his full name every time he addresses him? Maybe Charlie can help… **This is based on a real story involving me and a Professor named Dean Flowers. He was not, as I later learned, actually the Dean. For the record, I did not have sex with Dean Flowers.

kept on climbing til our stars collided | @whaddyameanno

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 84,801 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Two Person Love Triangle, Alcohol usage, Recreational Drug Usage, mentions of medical procedures, Anesthesia mention, Panic Attacks Summary: Dean is a Youtuber. Castiel is a college student who gets introduced to his channel. Both Dean and Castiel also have unknowingly been talking to each other on their secret stan accounts for Dr. Sexy.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #two person love triangle #day 16

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hey, I was wondering if you had any reverse fics, with Dean as an angel and Cas as the hunter ?

(also, you are doing God's work and I love your blog so so much ❤️❤️)

Hello there, thank you so much! And here are a few fics we've enjoyed:

Calming the Weather by seidenapfel [Explicit, 35k words]

Rescued from the Empty, Cas is fully human, and miserable. So, rather than acknowledge what happened in the dungeon, Dean searches for a way to change that. He finds it in a simple spell. The spell gives ordinary humans a limited dose of angelic powers. Too afraid it might harm Cas, Dean tests it on himself. But it backfires. Thanks to a piece of Grace bound to his soul, Dean wakes up fully powered, wings and all. With their roles reversed, it is up to Castiel to teach Dean how to wield angelic powers, and for Dean to share the peaks and lows of humanity with Castiel. Misconceptions come to light as they learn from each other. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing. In order to stop it, Dean not only has to get a hold on his emotions, but he must face a revelation about himself, one he had repressed all his life.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) [Explicit, 5k words]

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy. “Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

Grace the Gun by chevrolangels [Explicit, 169k words]

He’s got a shotgun in his hand and his mother’s broken rosary around his neck. His eye is cut open and dripping, and he’s got forty years of Hell fresh in his mind. Do not. Fuck with him. It's been four months since he died, when Castiel wakes up, six feet below the ground, alive. Alive without an explanation, with a mysterious itch under his skin and rumors of a whisper, a whisper of something so powerful, that demons themselves are running scared. Then he meets the thing that pulled him out—a spitfire angel named Dean, who turns out to be nothing to run from. With his sister Anna at his side, Gabriel at his back, and three angels in their corner, they're gonna take the fight to them. And they're gonna show God just exactly how they feel about his plan for fate and destiny.

Hunting for Faith by perunamuusa, riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 270k words]

It starts a few days earlier. Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

My Roots Take Flight by KismetJeska [Mature, 125k words]

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Obey His Word by K_K_TiBal [Teen and Up, 33k words]

When Castiel was ten years old, he was cursed to always be obedient. Now he’s a hunter—not the best one at his job, admittedly, since he’s always forced to comply with the monsters that beg for their life. Everything changes on one such hunt, when an angel named Dean saves his life, and tells Castiel that he’s searching for his missing brother, Sam. His naive callousness about humans and give-em-Hell attitude is off-putting, but Dean ends up being exactly what Castiel didn’t know he needed. As he grows closer to Dean, he tries to keep the secret of the curse close to his chest—but the past always has a way of exposing the truth. Curses are hard—but trust is harder.

the rapture of distress by ozonecologne [Mature, 16k words]

Castiel swung his legs around the edge of the bed and leaned forward, setting the eggs aside. He briefly entertained the notion of patting Dean’s knee, so close to his own now, before deciding against it. Holding hands in your sleep is weird enough. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't the end of the world," he consoled, wiping some grease from his mouth. Dean looked up then, and he remained guiltily silent. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up, up, up, along with his heart rate. His breakfast stuck like glue in his throat. "The end of the world?" Dean winced. "I'm working on it." A reverse!verse AU in which Castiel is a hunter and he’s visited by an angel.

To Hold In Your Hands by saltnhalo [Teen and Up, 6k words]

Castiel has never wanted an angel. He does just fine on his own, has for a long time—since he was old enough to hold a shotgun and make a salt circle. He’s proud of what he’s been able to achieve without angelic help, and the longer he can keep hunting solo, the better. But judging by the summons he’s just received to the Men of Letters’ bunker, his time is up. He can’t avoid his future angel partner any longer. (aka. five times that Dean saves Castiel's life, and five times that Castiel slowly learns angels aren't as bad as he'd thought)

#asks #reverse verse