#Author: FollowingButterflies/achillestiel

[deancaspinefest]

Stay In My Arms (If You Dare)  |  Explicit  |  66,490

Author: FollowingButterflies/achillestiel

Artist: comfycowboy

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Link to fic  |  Link to art 

Pairings: Dean/Cas, (Dean/Lee),(Cas/Balthazar),(Claire Novak/Krissy Chambers)

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Bodyguard AU, Famous Dean

[deancaspinefest]

stay in my arms (if you dare)

Author: FollowingButterflies | Artist: comfycowboy Posting on Thursday March 2

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean. Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other. 

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Dean wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he met his new bodyguard, probably some bald, suited hulking guy even taller than Sam with the body shape of a nacho chip and the personality of a mossy boulder. Whatever it was that Dean had been anticipating, Krushnic wasn't it. He was shorter than Dean, even if only by an inch or so. He was also more slender than Dean had been expecting, with a slim runner's body but still muscular. Instead of a suit, he wore what looked like a buttery soft leather jacket with the sleeves haphazardly pushed up to the elbows. Dean couldn't help but notice the strong-looking muscles in Krushnic's forearms, both of which were covered in tattoos. Tattoos that Dean was just itching to get a closer look at. Despite his face being half hidden behind aviator sunglasses, Dean had a hunch that Krushnic was one good-looking motherfucker. That hunch was confirmed when Krushinic lowered his sunglasses, finally looking Dean square in the eyes. Brilliant blue eyes, a jawline so sharp it should have been a crime and, holy fuck, lips that made Dean’s brain go into a tailspin of pretty pornographic images. Forget being someone’s bodyguard, this Krushnic guy should have been on the front cover of the artsy music magazines that Claire had piled up in her bedroom. Well shit. This was going to be interesting. Okay, sure. Dean had spent the best part of a decade surrounded by attractive people. He lived in fucking Los Angeles, after all. If he threw a rock down Melrose Avenue, it would probably hit at least three aspiring actors and two models. The whole damn city was filled with attractive people and he’d worked with a fair few of them. Still, he was momentarily struck silent when he met his new bodyguard.  He couldn’t have just had a bald, nacho-looking guy? "Dean, this is Castiel Krushnic,” Bobby said, shooting a rare smile at the walking wet dream currently standing in Dean’s house. Seeing Bobby smile was more of a rarity than seeing him without his trademark baseball cap and it threw Dean for a loop. Seriously, how the fuck did /Bobby/ know this guy? “Krushnic, this is Dean Winchester." "Nice to meet you," Krushnic said in an accent that was a blend of both Russian and American. Jesus fuck, his voice sounded like he gargled with bourbon each morning and smoked a pack a day. It was the kind of voice you'd hear narrating those steamy fantasy romance novels that Charlie claimed she read for the plot and the plot alone. Again, well shit.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Thursday March 2]