#BACK OFF DEAN LET ME HAVE A TURN WITH CAS

[arsythegreat]

why are trenchcoatz hot

[queerstudiesnatural]

kind of obsessed with the idea of dean and cas getting a house and sleeping in the same bed and building a normalcore life together, without ever officially getting together. cas comes back from the empty and dean hugs him, and after a few days he says they should get a house, so they do. they get a two bedroom and cas assumes it's so they each have their own room, but then dean picks one room as theirs, and says he thinks the other room will make a nice guest room for when sam and eileen/jack/claire come to visit. cas just goes with it. they always sleep in their pyjamas, and dean occasionally in his underwear when it's hot, so cas just figures they're friends who sleep in the same bed. dean has been so lonely his whole life, after all. dean sometimes puts on slow music and asks cas to dance, and cas is hesitant because he can't dance, but he figures dean needs casual touch and softness in his life, so he obliges. and then one day dean says "we should get married", and cas blue screens because he doesn't understand which need of dean's this is covering. his need for stability and family, perhaps, but he thought the house had been enough. so he just says "what?" and dean seems disappointed by that, and asks with a pout, "don't you want to?". cas is confused, but he answers honestly. "i do. i just don't understand why." dean seems confused too, but he presses on. "well, we've been together for almost a year now, and let's be honest we were basically together for twelve years before that, so i think it's time. plus i heard there are benefits, for like taxes and stuff. not that we pay that, but it could come in handy, i don't know." he searches cas' eyes, and cas' brain is going hold on a minute man. hold on a minute. dean asks again, "don't you want to?", and cas has to ask. "dean. when you say we've been together, what do you mean?" and dean is like, "i mean, like, dating? like a couple? right?" and when cas keeps looking at him with goldfish eyes he panics and goes, "oh god. haven't we? cas. we're together, right? i love you, you love me, all that? you haven't changed your mind on that, have you??" and cas about loses it like "what do you mean you love me??? when have you ever mentioned that?? dean, i thought we were just friends who lived together, i thought-" and now it's dean's turn to go "now hold on a minute man... you- what?? cas, we sleep in the same bed! we have breakfast together every morning! we've got a fucking garden!!" and cas just looks at dean stupidly and says, "but. we've never kissed? you sleep in your underwear! you've never said-" and he cuts himself off before he loses his damn mind because what??? so dean goes "oh. but you've been sleeping in pyjamas. and you've never tried to kiss me, or touch me. i tried it, with the dancing, but it was clear you were only doing it because i asked, so i didn't press it..." and cas does the goldfish bit a few more times before metaphorically shaking his head straight and saying "so, to clarify. we're a couple. and you think we should get married. and you want to kiss me?". dean laughs incredulously and says "yeah, pretty much. you okay with that?" and cas says yes. so dean kisses him. and wowza. cas would love to keep doing that forever. and well, apparently he can, because they're getting married.

[bunnysbrainrot]

A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Post-canon post-reunion post-reuinion-sex. Dean takes Cas out in the Impala for a drive for the first time since he got back a year after he was taken. Before Dean starts the engine he hesitates and gets a little shy and defensively says "don't laugh at me, okay? I need them." and he pulls a pair of plastic framed glasses out of his jacket front pocket and puts them on.

Cas does not stop staring at him, which Dean can only handle up to the first stop light. There's an heated blush on his face when he barks:

"Quit the surveillance Big Brother. Something wrong with my face?"

"You've aged."

"Jesus."

"It's a compliment. Your resourcefulness and resilience have allowed you to live past the time you were intended to by fate."

"You need to go back to charm school, Thermopolis. 'You've aged' is never a friggin compliment."

"It is. You've aged, and you're taking care of yourself."

There's a touch, light, to the side of Dean's face, tracing gently up under the gap of his glasses to caress his crows feet.

"Cas!" Dean complains, "I'm driving!" But he doesn't push his hand away.

"You're growing," Cas continues, sliding a long finger over Dean's eyebag, "You've lived." He taps the leg of Dean's glasses as he withdraws, adding, "You have defied God."

Dean tries very hard to follow the logic, feeling his face screw up as he does, but he's got nothing. "Huh?"

"Chuck's design for humans was faulty, amateur. There was much he did not account for. In creating the means to live, and live well, with the body you have been given, humanity has proven its superiority to God himself."

Dean scoffs, feeling a little shy again, "It's just glasses, Cas."

"The product of thousands of years of innovation. The work of thousands of people across millenia." Cas pauses for a moment, then asks, a touch breathless, "Can I tell you what I like to imagine?"

"Uh, sure?"

"I like to imagine, when I think of the work of other humans across all of time, that they were doing it all in service of you."

Considering this, Dean lets a Jeep turn onto the road in front of him. "Is it like a sex thing?"

"It's not a sex thing. It is the placement of my desire for you over the will of thousands. My love supercedes their true intentions, their ambitions, their circumstances. I am reappropriating their care to act as a vessel for the depth of my feelings for you."

"Hm. Sounds like a sex thing."

"It is not a sex thing."

"Okay, tell me this, then," Dean says, turning to face Cas at the next red light, "Do you or do you not want me to wear the glasses next time I suck you off?"

"...yes, I do want that."

"I rest my case. And hey - just a tip, from one flirt to another. Next time you want to bring up your hot librarian fantasy, or whatever, don't start by calling the other person old."

"It's not a librarian fantasy, it's a you fantasy."

"Yeah, yeah. Not like I haven't got you-fantasies of my own. How about this: I'll wear just the glasses if you wear just the trench coat."

"I think I could be persuaded," Cas says, and he's smiling, and Dean's smiling, and when he catches a glimpse of his own smile-lines in the rear-view mirror magnified through his glasses, he thinks maybe he gets it. They made it. They're alive. There's proof of it.

[wanderingcas]

[just a dumb little thing i wanted to write about Cas's bad moods being positively affected by dean's touch]

--

Dean scrubs a hand down his face and resists a loud sigh. Coffee. He needs coffee. Driving for eighteen hours straight isn’t good for anyone, but especially not for someone with a grumpy, newly ex-angel sitting shotgun. 

Cas, tucked in the crowded line by Dean’s side, is oscillating between his typical feelings of disgruntled and fascinated by his surroundings. Just by the look on his face, Dean knows what he wants to complain about: the stuffy, small cafe is too hot, the people are talking too loud, and the barista at the counter is more focused on chatting with her customers than actually ordering their food, and Dean, why do humans insist on small talk if they’ll never see each other again? Most of these people are traveling and are transient, what is the point of commenting on the weather if—

“Would you stop!” Dean snaps. Several heads turn toward them. Ducking his head, Dean mutters a curse. He’s been listening to Cas’s bitching on the road trip for so long that it’s starting to knock around his head. 

Cas frowns. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothing.” He pushes his shoulder into Cas’s. “Line’s movin’.” 

He’s exhausted. Which makes him feel all sorts of guilty, because whatever exhaustion he feels, Cas must feel it tenfold. Cas’s grace fully depleted only a few weeks ago and the transition has been… less than pleasant for all involved. For Cas, it means feeling human like he never has before. He described the sensations—touch, smell, emotion, temperature, you name it—like a thousand itches that he can’t quite scratch. It makes him a grumpier bastard than usual. 

Sam, as patient as he tried to be in the beginning, recently started losing his cool. Eileen had completely given up on the situation and wisely fucked off a few days into the whole process. When Claire called about the vamp nest she found in Nebraska, Dean couldn’t get in the car fast enough. 

Cas insisted on coming. Sam insisted on staying. And, well—that was that. 

Dean snags a glance at Cas next to him in the line. He’s squinting at the menu above the cashier. They found out he was near-sighted when he went full human, but he refuses to wear the prescription glasses Dean got him. 

“Want me to read it to you?” Dean asks.

“No,” Cas snaps. 

Grinding his back teeth, Dean huffs out a sigh. Which, of course, Cas hears. His frown deepens into a glare. 

Dean’s gonna hear about it later in the car. Something along the lines of I’m so sorry my weaknesses are an inconvenience to you, Dean. Would you be more lenient with me if I was still an angel and could fight your battles for you? And no I won’t wear the glasses because I’m a big angry baby in a trenchcoat that doesn’t have any fucking clue how to manage his own emotions and—

“What can I get you?” the barista asks sunnily. 

Dean slams his credit card on the counter. “Got any liquor?”

The barista’s smile goes a little crooked. “It’s eight in the morning.” 

“Just—a coffee. Big one,” Dean adds as she keys it into the computer. He turns to Cas. “What do you want?” 

Cas doesn’t answer; he’s looking off to the right, a frown on his face. But not his usual pissed-off frown. A curious one. 

Dean elbows him. “Dude.” 

Cas blinks, coming back to Earth, turning to the expectant barista. “Tea. Matcha, if you have it.” 

Dean regrets letting Sam introduce him to that one. Taking his credit card back from the barista, their bill paid, he and Cas step off to the side. Dean finally glances at whatever the hell was so interesting to capture Cas’s attention. 

Two women sit at a table, their eaten food just wrappers and crumby plates in front of them. Their hands are linked on the tabletop. Dean bristles; is Cas going to ask him why two women are holding hands? He can’t be that out of touch with humanity. But no; it’s something else. One woman is smiling, the other isn’t. Is that what caught Cas’s attention? 

Dean sighs through his nose, shaking his head at himself. Trying to figure out what’s going on in Cas’s head lately is like trying to solve a Rubik's cube. 

He feels a little tug at his jacket pocket. Dean paws Cas’s hand out of the way. “The hell are you doing?” 

“I need your phone,” Cas says.

“What for?”

“I want to see how much longer until our destination.” 

“You could just ask,” Dean shoots back. 

Cas frowns. He goes for Dean’s pocket again. 

“Jesus, fine,” Dean mutters, pulling the phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He shoves it into Cas’s hands. (Cas had a phone, but he left it at a gas station a few hundred miles back. Dean’s not sure if he can fully blame Cas’s inattention to detail on being a human.)

Dean folds his arms over his chest and looks at the women again. They’ve stood up from the table, and the more upset-looking of the two has leaned against the other, who has her arms around her. 

Cas is looking up at the women again, the Google maps app open on the screen forgotten. 

“Large dark roast and matcha latte!” someone calls from the counter. 

Dean turns away from the women and Cas, scooping up their drinks. “Wanna drink ‘em in the car or here?” he asks. He hopes that Cas will choose the latter, because the thought of hurtling down the highway in an enclosed space again is making Dean’s stomach turn. 

Cas’s blue eyes turn to Dean. “Can we drink them outside?”

There’s a small bench next to the entrance door. They park themselves there and sip at their drinks as people filter in and out of the door. The two women come out a few minutes later and go into a blue Prius a few spots away from the Impala. 

“Somethin’ suspicious about them?” Dean asks. When Cas gives him a curious look, Dean juts his chin toward the women. “You’re lookin’ at ‘em a lot.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Nothing suspicious. Just… curiosity.” 

Dean clears his throat. Nods. “Well, Cas, in our society there occasionally comes a time where people feel romantic feelings toward each other, and they decide to express that through—”

“Not that,” Cas snaps. He rolls his eyes at Dean’s cheeky grin. “I’m trying to understand human behavior more. Since I’m… unfortunately part of your species, now.” 

“All right, Jane Goodall, so what’d you observe?” 

Cas takes a sip of his grassy drink. “The blonde woman was upset. The brunette woman comforted her through touch. And it seemed to work.” 

“Okay,” Dean says slowly, “and why is that weird?”

Cas turns his gaze to Dean. “You’re not comforted through touch. In fact, it makes you angrier.” 

Dean snorts, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean. It’s not like I just want people—touchin’ me all the time.” 

“Especially not when you’re upset,” Cas adds.

“Well, yeah. That’s a pretty common thing.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Not necessarily. When Sam is upset, Eileen hugs him. And that’s received well.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re dating.” 

“So touch is only welcomed when one is upset when they’re romantically involved?” 

“Well.” Dean frowns at the steam rising from his coffee. “I mean, not always. Friends hug each other when one of them’s upset.” 

Cas cants his head to one side. “So the two women could have been friends?” 

“I’m betting not,” Dean snorts. “Friends don’t really hold hands. Not all the time.” 

“But sometimes?”

“Sure. Sometimes.” 

Cas nods, seeming to consider this. Dean takes a sip of coffee; then nearly spits it out again when a hand gently falls on top of his. He snatches his hand back and gapes at Cas’s innocent gaze. “What the hell, dude?”

“You said that friends sometimes hold hands.” 

“I mean—you don’t just—” Dean huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Hugging is more in the friendship zone.” 

A line appears between Cas’s eyebrows. “We only hug when one of us is about to die.” 

And—Jesus. Okay. Dean has to blink hard a few times to find his center again from that one. “Um, yeah, I guess we do.” 

“So if hugging is reserved only for mortal danger,” Cas continues, “and holding hands is too romantic—what else is there?”

Dean’s jaw works as he tries to figure out what to say. “I—you just—” He throws up a hand. “I don’t know, Cas! A pat on the shoulder? A friendly high five?” 

Cas’s expression drops a bit. He frowns down at his tea, crestfallen. 

Dean scrubs a hand down his face. Shit. The only thing worse than a grumpy ex-angel is a sad one. 

He glances around them. No one’s paying attention. The bench is by the door, but people are too focused on getting inside to eat, or making a beeline to their cars. Besides, he’s sitting so close to Cas on the bench, it won’t even be noticeable. 

Dean sighs. He holds out his hand, palm up. When Cas just stares at it, Dean moves it closer with a frustrated noise. That seems to make Cas get the picture; with a small smile, he takes Dean’s hand. He even laces their fingers together, which does not make Dean shiver and feel like his nerves are on fire. 

“Only for a minute,” Dean says gruffly. 

Cas nods. “Okay.” 

And they sit there, hands linked between them on the bench, as they finish their drinks.

--

[And no, dear reader, it does not last a minute. In fact, it becomes Dean's new superpower—hugging, holding, or letting Cas glomp onto him whenever Cas is even in a remotely bad mood. Sam and Eileen take notice, but don't comment, because Cas is finally a relaxed and happy human.]

[beanthesprout]

Sweet Angel

Sub!Castiel x soft dom!afab reader

Castiel is feeling things he's never felt before. Things he thought he shouldn't feel as an angel. And you're more than happy to help him explore

Warnings: marking, oral sex (m recieving), pentrative sex, p in v, unprotected sex

All the boys were supposed to be out today. That's what they'd told you. Sam and Dean had taken Jack out on a hunt, and Cas was off with Bobby doing research.

You loved having the bunker to yourself. It gave you the opportunity to be more...free with your clothing choices. You loved and trusted your boys but you weren't keen on the idea of them seeing you walk around the way you were right now.

Panties and a t-shirt. No bra. And by God was it comfortable. No one was supposed to be back until the next morning, so for now you were relishing having the place to yourself.

You were wandering out of the kitchen with a beer, wanting to go back to the library to continue reading that book on witches you'd found. You were not expecting to see Castiel standing in the middle of the library, jaw dropped and face bright red as he saw you walk in.

"Oh fuck."

Cas just stared, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but he just couldn't get the words out. Your embarrassment quickly turned to amusement.

Your eyes drifted down to see that he seemed to have a bit of a problem in his pants.

"You doin alright angel?"

He raised his hands to rub his face and turn away.

"I'm sorry. I-I wasn't expecting you to have so little clothes on."

"You're more flustered than I am." You snickered.

He stayed turned away from you and you could see he was trying to adjust his pants. You set your beer on top of a bookcase and walked up behind him to lean over his shoulder and whisper in his ear.

"You having some trouble there angel?"

You heard his breath hitch in his throat at your low sultry tone and he turns his head to look at you with wide eyes.

"I've never-I dont..." His gruff voice was full of confusion. You looked down to see him trying to cover himself with his trenchant.

"I can take care of it for you." You offered sweetly.

"How?"

You grinned and went around to face him and gently pushed him backwards so he stumbled into a chair.

He sat there, legs spread and wide eyed. His face covered in shock and nervousness. You kneeled in front of him and gently ran your fingers up and down the tops of his thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Will you let me show you just how pleasurable it is to have a human body?"

Cas hesitated, his eyes searching your own for a moment before nodding.

"I need words sweetheart."

"Yes. Yes please."

A satisfied smile spread over your face as you let your hands slide down to glide over his inner thighs. He shivered as your touch went higher and higher.

Slowly you reached up to undo his belt and slowly tugged his pants down, murmuring at him to lift his hips for you, which he did immediately.

He watched you closely as you kissed up his thighs, letting out a gasp when you bit down on the soft skin of his inner thigh. You ran your tongue over the bite mark soothingly. You turned your attention to his other thigh, leaving bites and hickies all the way up.

"So sensitive." You murmured before sucking another hickey onto his thigh. Cas groaned loudly, his hands gripping tightly at the arm rests of his chair.

You leaned forward to press a kiss to his tip straining against his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath at the action.

You gently eased him out of his underwear, enamored with the way his cock pulled free.

He whimpered when he felt your breath against it, watching intently as you licked a stripe from base to tip. He let out a strangled groan as you took the tip into his mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

You slowly took more of him into your mouth, watching his face contort with pleasure and his breath quicken.

You began bobbing your head as you took more and more of him in, eventually feeling him hit the back of your throat. He began messily thrusting into your mouth, the feelings overtaking him.

You reached up to guide his hand to your head and he immediately gripped your hair to start pushing you down on his cock. You choked a bit at first but quickly adjusted to his pace. His head lolled back as moans and groans loudly.

It didn't take long before his hips started to stutter and he tried to press you further onto his cock despite your face already being buried in his curly thick hair.

After a few more thrusts he finally emptied into your mouth, whimpering and moaning. You swallowed before gently pulling off.

Cas was panting heavily staring up at the ceiling, slowly he lowered his head to look down at you.

"You like that angel?" You grinned proudly.

"That was...unlike anything I've ever experienced."

You pressed a soft kiss to his thigh before reaching to pull his underwear back on, but he grabbed his wrists to stop you.

"What about you?"

"You don't need to worry about me sweetheart."

"I want you to feel it too." His voice was gruff, tone full of want. His eyes were intent and his cheeks were still flushed. You softened, it was sweet of him.

You stood up and leaned in to kiss him, which he happily accepted. It didn't take long until your tongue was in his mouth, he sighed at the feeling. His lips moved against yours, he was inexperienced but he was still trying. And you found it adorable.

He reached his hands up to hesitantly rest on your waist and you moved to sit on his lap, your thighs on either side of his waist. He made a small noise of surprise but continued kissing you hungrily.

You gently started to grind your hips against his, and the simple action had him moaning again and rolling his hips up into you. You grinding against him with your soaked panties was enough to make him feel that desperation and need all over again.

You'd started moaning yourself, the friction was immensely pleasurable, especially as you felt him grow hard again. God it was delicious.

You pulled back and started kissing his neck, sucking hickies onto his skin as you ran your fingers through his hair. You started to grind harder against him, enjoying the sweet breathy moans it pulled from him.

He knew he sounded pathetic, absolutely drunk on you despite being a warrior of heaven. But he really didn't care. The only thing he cared about was you and the things you were making him feel in that moment.

"More. Need more." He rasped out.

"Oh my sweet angel. I'll give you more." You whispered in his ear before nibbling his earlobe. He moaned in response, his hands tightening his grip on your waist.

You tugged your panties to the side and gently guided him to your entrance before sinking down onto him, gasping at the feeling. His fingers dug into your hips so hard you were certain there would be bruises.

You settled fully onto him, hands running through his hair.

"This what you were wanting Cas?" Your tone was teasing.

"God yes." He groaned.

Slowly you started to move on him, rolling your hips, finding the tempo that'd have both of you moaning and stuttering incoherently. His hands tugged your shirt off and he toyed with your breasts, pinching at your nipples and groping you.

And God was it good. He dragged against you in a way you'd never experienced before, and the way you fluttered and clenched around him had him crying out into your shoulder.

Over and over you murmured words of praise, encouraging him as he desperately fucked up into you.

It really didn't take long to reach your climax, clamping down on him as you cried out into his shoulder. He desperately kept going, trying his best not to release until you'd completely finished. And when you'd fallen limp against him he thrust into you a few more times before you felt heat fill you.

You both sat there for a few moments, panting as you held onto each other. Slowly you eased yourself off of him.

"Can you get me a wet washcloth please?"

He grunted and nodded, maneuvering you so you were sitting in the chair. He stood and pulled up his pants before walking off and coming back with a warm wet washcloth and kneeled down to clean you up. He froze though, enamored with the way his cum was dripling out of you.

"Cas?"

Your voice pulled him out of his stupor and he stuttered an apology before gently cleaning you up and helping you put your shirt on.

When he was done you stood up unsteady and he quickly moved to pick you up and carry you to your room.

"This isn't necessary." You chuckled.

"Of course it is." His tone made it clear there was no argument to be made.

"Well thank you." You pressed a kiss to his cheek and giggled when he blushed.

He set you down on your bed, bringing you a new pair of underwear.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"You don't have to thank me," you chuckled, "I enjoyed it too."

"I just mean, thank you for giving me such a pleasurable experience. It's one I will never forget. And...I glad it was with you."

You practically melted at his words and hugged him from behind, "Let me know if you ever want to do it again."

He nodded in response.

You had a feeling he'd be coming to your room a lot more frequently.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Dean Wanting You To Stay At The Bunker

Pairing: Dean x reader

____________

“Are you sure Sam is okay with this?” you asked, turning to Dean as he tossed your duffel on a bed. He nodded as he put your other bag in a chair at the small desk in the corner.

“Of course. My room is right next door if you need anything,” said Dean, smiling for a moment before looking almost nervous. “Need anything?”

“No, no. Just...thanks. I never expected you to actually let me crash for a few days,” you said. Dean shuffled on his feet but kept quiet. “I can help cook and clean-”

“No! No you don't have to,” said Dean, waving you off. “If you want to...hang out and relax for a few days, that'd make me the happiest thing really.”

“Well I do like when you're happy,” you said, giving him a kind smile back.

“No rush, stay as long as you want,” said Dean backing out of the room. “Stay a week or two or more. We, uh…”

“Want another hunting partner?” you asked skeptically but Dean’s face showed his eagerness. “You're serious?”

“Stay two weeks, see how you like it and let me know then,” said Dean, looking a bit more relaxed now. You simply nodded, even if you'd already made up your mind.

“Dean you got blood all over your good jeans!” you shouted from the laundry room a few weeks later.

“I'll get a new pair! Don't bother trying to get it out!” he shouted back from the library.

An hour later he was in his room and looked more than a little surprised to see you holding his jeans in the doorway, looking as new as ever.

“Are you a witch?” he asked as he took them from you.

“Yes, I used my super powers of detergent and stain remover,” you said plopping down on his bed, leaving him to get the rest of his clothes from the basket. You heard him hesitate and chuckled. “Finally found my lucky shirt.”

“I uh…”

“You hid it behind the dryer,” you said sitting up. “Now I wonder why that is?”

“You were going to leave,” he said. “I wanted you to stay and you don't go anywhere without that shirt.”

“Do you even know why it's my lucky shirt, Dean?” you asked smiling up at him as he sat on the bed beside you. “I was wearing it when I met the guy who has a massive crush on me. I like him too so it's worked out pretty great so far. Too bad I'm still waiting for him to make his move.”

“You don't hang out with anyone except for us really,” said Dean your head nodding that he was on the right track. “Is it Cas?”

“He's human,” you said, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Is it Sam?” he asked and you felt for the poor man.

“Is it the guy sitting right next to me?” you said with a tilt of your head and a smirk. “Yes, it is in fact that lovable guy that made up excuse after excuse to get me to stay when I never wanted to go anywhere at all,” you said.

“I left your shirt there this morning so you'd find it, ya know,” he said, you taking a turn to raise an eyebrow. “I wanted to see if you'd really take off running when I asked you out for lunch.”

“I'd love to, Dean,” you said.

“Run for it or go on a date with me?” he asked, some of his cocky charm coming through.

“I got my lucky shirt back. I can finally go on that date with you,” you said. “It hasn't let me down so far. I might even get a second one.”

“Maybe I'll just hold on to this in case it all goes horribly wrong so you stay with me anyways,” said Dean, lifting it out of the basket.

“I'm already with you,” you said, Dean’s hand brushing against yours before resting on it comfortably. “But you can keep it. It's been pretty lucky for you too.”

_______________

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Best Friends

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x child!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you don’t want to go to school, and the boys are having trouble making you

“NO!”

Dean was out of his bed in a second and bolting towards the library when he heard your scream.

“No, no, no!” You continued, and Dean heart pounded in his ears as he yanked out his gun.

He froze in surprise when he reached the library. Sam was making a desperate attempt to wrestle a sweater on you, and you were fighting him like it was made of acid.

“What…” Dean wasn’t even sure what to ask.

“Dean!” At the sight of the oldest Winchester you finally managed to slip out of Sam’s grasp and ran right to Dean.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked as you latched yourself to his leg, hugging him like your life depended on it.

“She doesn’t want to go to school,” Sam grunted as he followed you over to Dean, reaching down and trying to pry you away.

No!” You screeched, and Sam grimaced as he continued to pull at your hands, trying to unclamp you from Dean’s leg.

“Kid, cut it out,” Dean grunted, leaning down to help Sam. “Just go to school.”

“No!”

“Why not?” Sam sighed.

“I wanna stay with you!” You whined.

“I’m flattered,” Dean muttered sarcastically. “But you’ve gotta go, so just—“

“Got her,” Sam sighed in relief when he finally managed to pry your fingers off Dean’s leg. “Alright brat, let’s get you to school.”

“Brat” was Sam’s occasional nickname for you, and it was normally used ironically, like when he called Dean “jerk”. However, Dean could tell that Sam meant it a little more this morning.

“I don’t want to!” You whined as Sam carried you to the Impala, Dean trailing behind in case you tried anything. It turned out to be a good instinct, because before Sam could buckle you in, he turned for one second to look at Dean, and you took the opportunity to jump out of the car and make a run for the bunker.

“Hey!” Dean lunged for you, but missed.

“Cas!” You yelled suddenly, trying to summon the angel. “Cas I need you!”

“What’s the—“ Cas froze for a moment when he saw the scene; Sam, scooping you into his arms while you yelled and struggled, and Dean doing his best to keep you from kicking and/or biting Sam. “Matter,” he finished lamely, still unsure if he should interfere.

“We’re trying to get her to school,” Sam grunted when you kicked him in the ribs.

“She’s having a bit of a tantrum about it,” Dean added.

“Cas, help!” You cried.

“Can I talk to her?” Cas asked, and all three Winchesters seemed to freeze for a moment.

“Have at it,” Sam shrugged, setting you on the ground but keeping a hand on your shoulder to stop you from running.

“I won’t let her escape,” Cas assured Sam as he knelt in front of you, and Sam stepped back to give you two some space.

“N/N, I thought you liked school. Why don’t you want to go?”

Castiel’s gentle tone calmed you, and your response came out much quieter than your previous ones.

“I wanted to stay here with Sam and Dean,” you sniffled, shuffling on your feet.

“What about your friends at school? Don’t you want to be with them?”

“No.”

Cas was surprised when you started to cry at his question.

“Why not?”

Sam and Dean were both getting impatient, but Cas’s attention was fully on you.

“Be-because Lily’s been sick all week, and she’s my best friend! If she’s not there, then I don’t want to go!”

“And why didn’t you tell Sam and Dean this?” Cas asked.

You just shrugged, still sniffling. “They-they’d make me go anyway.”

“It’s true,” Dean called out.

Cas ignored him, still focusing on you.

“Don’t you have any other friends to play with?”

“No,” you whined, the tears once again streaming down your face. “Everyone else is a butthead.”

Castiel had to bite back a smile at that.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” He asked.

“Who?”

“Me.”

“You?” You sniffled. “How?”

“Well, every time I have to go to heaven, I don’t want to. Just like you don’t want to go to school.”

“Why?”

“Well, because all of my best friends are right here,” Cas smiled. “Sam, and Dean, and of course my favorite little Winchester.” You giggled as Cas poked at your stomach, your tears slowly stopping.

“But you don’t say anything,” you argued.

“Well that’s because I know that I have to go anyway. Even though all the other angels are buttheads.”

You giggled again at Cas’s words.

“I have to go,” Cas continued, still smiling. “Because I have a job to do. And you have a job to do right now; you’ve gotta learn, so you can grow up smart like your big brother Sam.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam elbowed him.

“Oh.” You seemed to ponder Cas’s words for a long moment. “But…will you be here when I come back?”

“Of course, little one,” Cas promised. “I’ll be ready and waiting to see my best friend.”

Your face lit up at this, and the boys relaxed. You wouldn’t fight school anymore, at least not today.

“Cas, can you take me to school today?”

“I don’t think Dean would like me to drive the Impala…” Cas began, but when your lip began to quiver Dean stepped in.

“Just this once, ok?”

“Yay!” You giggled as Cas lifted you into his arms and deposited you into your seat. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes little one?” Cas asked as he buckled you in.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

“Oh yes?” Cas smiled at you.

“Yeah, and Sam, and Dean! You’re all my best friends.”

Cas did something that he rarely did—he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your head.

“Then we’re all very lucky, little one.”

[casdeans-pie]

There's this really dumb season 5 era fic that I really want to write

I got this really vivid image of Dean going into Bobby's kitchen in the middle of the night because he heard a noise and he can hear the rustling of cutlery in the kitchen drawer and he's got his gun ready and he flips on the light and Cas is just standing there clutching one of those big salad forks to his chest.

And Dean is like ?? Cas????

And Cas is just staring at him like a deer in the headlights. and they just keep staring at each other cause thats what they do

And finally Dean is like Shall I leave you alone with your... fork???

But Cas is super cagey and Dean just gets more suspicious and playful about it. He manages to make it so that Cas says he 'needs a fork' and Dean is like Snort. Oh yeah. I'm sure. A good fork.

Cause yknow. fork sounds like

Anyway he manages to find out that Cas has an itch on his back that he just. can't. reach.

Which is what he needed the fork for.

Turns out that Cas is molting but the other angels are still actively hunting him so he can't go back to heaven to do it properly with real wings so he just has to suffer in his vessel with the phantom itch. Dean feels bad for him and does eventually agree to scratch his back.

Because of the intricate rituals. And that's what friends do. Friends help each other. They help their angel boy best friends during their angel wing molt thing.

So Cas is like Thank you Dean and takes off his coat and his jacket and his tie and his shirt and Dean is having a minor crisis.

He maneuvers Cas to brace his hands against the counter and Dean stands behind. He doesn't know what he's feeling but he's feeling a certain way about all of this. He starts to rake his fingers down Cas's shoulder blades and immediately Cas is like YES. THERE. HARDER. and Dean is like Jesus Cas! You'll wake the house shut up man! while trying not to show how unbelievably turned on he is

Just as the sexual tension between them really heats up Cas flies away.

And then there's a massive flash forward to present day where Dean has retired from hunting and Cas is still an angel and they're happy and alive and living together and so in love and Dean wakes up in the middle of the night because he can hear noises from the kitchen.

He goes down and flips on the light and Cas is there holding a spatula. And he's like Dean why do we not own any salad forks.

And Dean gently takes the spatula from him, kisses him, and is like Let me help you scratch that itch.

[samwinchesterswifu]

Million Dollar Baby (Castiel x Reader) Smut

Song Inspo: "Million Dollar Baby" by Tommy Richman

Warnings: grace!kink

MINORS DNI

A/N: I wanted to write more into it, but felt like i havent been able to write full blow p in v type smut, so i am sorrry for the cocktease. But let me know if you want the full version <3

Word Count: 1140

Summary: On a hunt with the boys and the angel she's infatuated with, what could possibly happen?

She shifts awkwardly on her heels while adjusting the length of the tight red dress she was wearing. Dean chose her and Cas as the primary subjects to try to lure in a Witch that was causing havoc with some love spell. The two of them where supposed to go to a club that the Witch frequented under suggestion of Crowley. She couldn’t imagine Castiel all dressed up. Having an infatuation of the angel was hard enough to keep a secret, just picturing him in a proper suit had her mind buzzing. But that thought was interrupted by a loud knock on the bathroom door of the crappy motel they were in for the week.

“Hurry up Y/N!” Dean yelled.

“Alright!” She yelled back in response.

Heat was already rising to her cheeks due to the nerves. She turns to the door and grabs the door knob. Taking a deep breath, she opens up the door to find Castiel entering the motel room with Sam on his trail and shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Both of them stopped in their tracks at the sight of each other. A low whistle is heard from Dean.

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you cleaned up like that.” She could feel Dean undress her with his eyes and she shoots him a glare before turning her attention back to Castiel.

Sam leaned up against the door of the motel, with arms crossed he seemed pleased by her reaction. When Sam had offered to help Castiel get “cleaned up” this wasn’t what she had imagined.

Castiel had black pleated dress pants on, accompanied by a midnight blue knitted polo short-sleeved shirt with some buttons undone. The shortened sleeves seemed to show off some muscle she didn’t even know he had. He was also wearing a simple chain necklace, and presumably a watch. All pulled together with a leather jacket.

The two of them eyed each other up and down before a cough came from Deans direction.

“Well, we should get going, we need to get there before dark to set up surveillance.” Dean says, grabbing the keys to the Impala and ushering the two to the car.

They each sit in the backseat while the boys sat up front. As they journeyed towards the venue, she would steal glances of the angel in the reared view mirror. Not realizing he was doing the same thing.

Finally, after what seemed forever in an awkward silenced car, they arrive at the scene.

“Okay, remember the plan, you two on the dance floor, we’ll try to catch the Witch before anything happens, got it?” Dean asks.

She nods in agreeance and anxiously exits the car. Going around to Castiel’s side of the Impala and forcefully grabs his hand and leads him into the place. Once inside, she makes a beeline towards the bar. Ordering a shot for both her and Castiel.

“Y/N you know I don’t get drunk,” the angel besides her comments.

“I know but if we want this to look believable then I need you to drink something for the time being.” She sighs, taking her shot and asking for another round for the two of them.

This was also mainly an excuse to try to help calm her nerves. It wasn’t the fear of the Witch planting some dangerous love spell on them, it was that she was already so hot and bothered by him and the way that he cleaned up.

After a 3rd round of shots, she felt a small buzz and felt ready to hit the dance floor while Castiel presumably looked unbothered. Grabbing his hand again, she leads him towards the center of the dance floor. As a few different songs came on, she tried to dance around Castiel. Not really knowing what to do, but more so moving along with the beat.

That was until a newer song came on. Castiel had twirled her out, and brought her back in at the beginning of the song. Placing her back flushed against his chest and the two of them moved comorbidly to the beat. Castiel’s head dipped to her shoulder and his breath was hot on her neck. Closing her eyes, she squirmed against him trying to create some form of friction. Both of Castiel’s hands where placed on her hips helping control her movement. But a third form of heat began to climb down her chest and a squeezing sensation was felt on her breasts. Her eyes shot open, looking down to find nothing there. She looks up to Castiel to see his eyes shining blue. This man was using his grace on her. She could feel the grace began to move down her body. Making her breath hitch, how ballsy could this man be?

Castiel appeared to have a new founded confidence because he seemed more cocky then ever. He didn’t need sex pollen, or a sex spell, the man was drunk off her alone. Getting loss in the moment, her breath hitched as the grace came over her core. As the anticipation built, Castiel stopped. He grabbed onto her hand, and twirled her back out. But as he was pulling in, he made sure that they were facing each other. His eyes still shimmered a bright blue tone different than his normal.

“Castiel?” She whispers his name in confusion.

“Motel, now.” Castiel responded through gritted teeth.  

Nodding in response, they were gone in a moment. Poofing back into the motel room instantly, she realized that Cas had teleported them there. Her phone began to ring off the hook assumingly it was Dean or Sam calling to see what happened. But she didn’t have a care in the world. She was ready to worship the man in front of her. Cas grabs tightly on her hips looking at her eyes and down to her lips.

“Do you have any idea how much you drove me crazy in there? I’ve never felt this way towards a human,” he says walking her back up against the bed. The back of her knees flushed against the bed frame.

Cas’s head drop to her neck and attaches his lips to the skin. Kissing up and down nibbling softly along the way. Breathy moans of pleasure leaves her lips as her head dips back. The warm feeling of grace making its return on her body made her feel even more drunk than she could be on a Saturday night. Cas takes a moment away from attacking her neck to look her dead in the eyes.

“I need permission love, I need you, so please, let me show you what a man can’t do that I can do, all for you,” he whispers sultrily.

“Please Castiel,” she breathes out.

Castiel eyes deepen as a smile forms across his face.

“Anything for you love.”

[arsythegreat]

Thingz i would like 2 do:

Drive one of theze jeepz

Become a firefighter

Watch the entirety of Yellowztone in one day

ENDVERZE CAZTIEL 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

(or he could do me idc 😍)

Meet Mizha Collinz

Own an entire manzion of kittiez

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: happy birthday to me! when this posts i'll officially be older, and celebrating by being cringe (writing this). i also love that picture of misha. it's him at my birthday party for real. he told me himself (lying)

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: rock your body—justin timberlake

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Special occasions like this are few and far between

• The Winchester family hadn't had a proper birthday in decades. While Dean clung to memories of gas station twinkies in replacement of a birthday cake, Sam remembered most of his birthdays with a sort of sad animosity. Up until walking out on his dad for Stanford and spending his birthday that year with Jessica, he hadn't had a single enjoyable birthday party. Maybe that was part of the reason he refused to let you feel the same way about your own birthday—even if none of you were kids anymore

• Worst case scenario, the world is ending again and you all have little time for delicacies. If that's the case, you'd get a quick pat on the shoulder from Dean, one excited bear hug from Sam, and very confused Cas wishing you the best of births before being told to continue packing the shotguns with salt rounds

• "With age comes responsibility, so keep loading those guns. Spider-Man said that."

• "For someone that watches so much trash tv, you know so little about media, Dean." You snorted at your friend, fingers nimmbly crushing salt into a line of rigid red shells before moving onto the next group

• "Shut up before I decide to give you your birthday noogies." He pointed a finger at you from across the room with a single raised eyebrow. Off to the side you saw Cas ask Dean what birthday noogies were not-so-quietly, and you struggled to hold back a laugh

• Even in the worst situations, they could always manage to make you smile

• Best case scenario, however, it's a free day. Nothing to do, no devils to fight, no ghouls to stop—nothing. Just you, the guys, and time on your hands that you all normally never have. So what better way to utilize it than with a little surprise party?

• Sam would be the most into the whole birthday party shtick. He'd insist that it was the least they could do for you after all the years on the hunt together, and even got Dean to budge after a few minutes of petty debating

• "It's stupid and cheesy, Sammy. We're grown adults. We've fought the devil beforr for christ's sake." Dean gave his brother the stink eye from his spot in the drivers seat. Groceries stores and Mom & Pop stores passed them by as they ventured into the nearest town, but neither of them paid attention to their blurred surroundings

• "Come on Dean." Sam twisted his torso and turned to face him fully. "Don't tell me you don't remember the look on their face last month when we brought them back a souvenir from our hunting trip in Alabama. You would have thought we brought them a new car. Besides, this is the one chance we've had in a while to actually celebrate something." Sam's eyebrows tilted up as he recalled the memory, shooting a knowing look at Dean's side-profile

• "So what? I say we just tell them happy birthday like a regular person and call it a day." Dean grumbled

• "Is that why you're driving in the nearest direction of the bakery here?"

• Dean didn't respond

• "That's what I thought."

• "Shut your pie-hole or I'm kicking you to the curb."

• Once the boys get back to whatever new place you all are holed up for that week, a couple of crinkled bags in hand, they call on Cas to help out with setting up whatever decorations Sam had forced Dean to throw in the cart

• Cas didn't take nearly as much convincing to partake in the setting up of festivities, but he certainly did need a lot of it explained

• "I thought angels were familiar with the concept of birthdays?" Dean asked at one point while watching Sam pull part of a cake out of the oven. His hand was slapped away when he went to grab at it, and he glared at his younger brother momentarily

• "We are." Castiel's gruff answer came shortly. "But we stopped keeping count after the first couple thousand years. And it was never done like—" He flicked the party hat atop his head curiously, "—this."

• "What did you guys do to celebrate?" Sam asked while popping the lid to a can of store bough frosting open

• "Pray."

• "Naturally." Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically. A blanket of silence fell over the room after that as Sam set out to frost the first part of the cake. Then—

• "Hey. How come none of you are wearing paper hats?"

• "Oh, trust me Cas. It'll mean a lot more to them if you were the one wearing it." Dean's grin was borderline evil as he looked at the angel

• It's safe to say that you laughed the hardest you had in a while once seeing Cas looking so hesitant in a mini cone hat

• Overall, it's the best birthday— the best day —that you've had in a long time

• You didn't need much, and as a hunter you'd come to expect almost nothing. But knowing that your friends— the short tempered, college dropout, otherworldly friends that they were —took it upon themselves to set all this up for you was the emotional equivalent to a punch in the gut. A lovely emotional punch in the gut

• "If you start crying, I'll leave." Dean snapped at you when you eventuallyvoiced how much this meant to you. But the threat was empty, and you all knew it

• Sometime during the party, you had managed to wrestle a paper hat of his own onto his head, and how it sat on the side of his head like a crooked unicorn horn. Occasionally he'd reach for it as if to take it off, then lower his hand with a small smile

• "Shut the fuck up and give me a group hug, Dean." You grinned with teeth, gesturing at him to stand up

• "Wait, no, I take it back that's worse."

• "I will kill you, Winchester. I swear I'll do it."

• You ended up getting your group hug that day, even if it took Castiel trapping Dean between you and him to get him to stand still

• "I hate it here." He griped with a groan. Sam could only laugh as be watched his brother struggle in Cas's iron grip, and said angel was smiling a bit to himself. You felt your heart swell; even if the look on Dean's face was downright murderous

• "Smile or I'm egging Baby on my birthday night." You said before setting the camera's timer and holding it up above you all

• "You wouldn't—"

• "Watch me."

• All four of you have your own copy of the photo from that night, kept in your seperate pockets and bedside table drawers. To this day you find yourself smiling when you look at it, and even if you'd never know it, so do they

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Experience (Cas)

Description: Y/N has feelings for Cas but after Dean tells him he wants to know if it’s true but Y/N keeps avoiding the question.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,796k

She eyed the angel as he talked to Sam and Dean about the latest case. He gave her a weird look as he noticed that she was staring at him. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact look in her eyes but he’s seen it before. She looked away once their eyes met. She couldn’t help herself as she eyed him. He was gorgeous. She’s had a crush on the angel and wanted him. He had no sexual experience which she loved. It was a wet dream of hers to ruin his innocence. “Why is she staring at me like that?” Cas asked Dean. Dean looked to where Cas’ eyes were and smirked. He was well aware of the crush Y/N had on the angel. “That my friend is the look of lust and want.” He turned back to Cas and winked. Cas looked confused. “What is lust and what does she want?” He asked the man. Dean shrugged and smiled. “Ask her yourself.” Cas took that literally and walked up to the woman. “Hey Cas.” She said. “Why do you stare at me with lust and what is it that you want?” He asked her. Her face was red in embarrassment and she opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t. Cas waited for her to say something but she walked away. He called her name but she ignored him.

“I asked her what you told me to ask her and she walked away.” Cas told Dean. Dean turned to him and looked at him like he was crazy. “You actually asked her that?” Cas nodded. Dean sighed and face palmed. Y/N was gonna kill him when she found out that he asked that because of him. “You told me to.” Dean nodded. “But I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” He exclaimed. Cas was confused, was he not supposed to actually ask her that? Dean closed the laptop and looked at him. “You can’t tell her I told you but Y/N has feelings for you.” “Like she wants to be with me romantically?” Cas asked. Dean nodded. “Yes and sexually but that’s besides the point.” He pointed out. Cas understood what that meant and he was shocked. Y/N never really showed interest in him besides staring at him like he was a piece of meat….oh! Now Cas got it. It all adds up in his head. The look of lust and want. 

Alexis was getting ready for bed when Cas randomly appeared in her room. “Cas.” She jumped. He forgot that he was supposed to knock before entering a room. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had feelings for me?” He asked her, ignoring her jumpscare moment. She looked at him confused. “What?” “Dean told me that you look at me the way you do because of lust and you wanting me.” Her jaw dropped. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you he told me. Cas says. She had no words. Like what was she supposed to say to him? “Cas I really have no words.” She tells him and gets into her bed. “But you can turn off the light on your way out.” She says and yawns. He looks at her confused but does so nonetheless. 

“Next time she tries to avoid it don’t let her.” Dean tells him. Cas told him that he entered her room and asked her why she didn’t tell him. Dean wanted to roll his eyes but decided against it. “So I won’t let her avoid the conversation next time.” Cas says and Dean nods. He was surprised that Y/N hadn’t said anything about this yet. 

“He asked me why I didn’t tell him that I had feelings for him? Like why did he ask me that?” Sam shrugged. “He’s not an idiot Y/N you do make it kinda obvious.” Sam said. Y/N sighed. “But I didn’t think it was that obvious.” Sam laughs. “It was Y/N.” 

Cas had learned that he needed to knock on doors before entering. Y/N was in her room looking up cases when she heard a knock at her door. She gets up with a sigh and opens the door revealing the angel. “Hey Cas!” She says. “Can I come in?” He asked her not saying hi back. She nods and steps aside letting him in the room. He steps in and faces her. “What’s up?” She asked. “Do you have feelings for me?” She wanted to roll her eyes, annoyed that this conversation was coming up again. She was trying to avoid it. “Cas.” She complained. “Y/N you can’t avoid it forever. Just tell me.” She sighed. He was right. She just wished he could have found out differently. “Yes I do.” She said. The look in his eyes changed and he pushed her up against the wall. Her eyes widened as he leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back but was surprised by his dominance. “Cas, where did you learn to do that?” She asked out of breath as they pulled away. “The Pizza man.” He said. She looked at him confused. “What?” She asked, confused. “I came across a movie and the pizza man did that.” She nodded as she got what he was talking about. “Well, is there anything else you learned from the pizza man?” She asked seductively. He shook his head. She pushed him to her bed. “Take off your clothes Cas.” She tells him. He snaps his fingers and he’s naked. She smirks at the sight. “I meant for you to take them off like a human but that works.” “Are you going to remove your clothes?” He asked her.

She shrugged and pushed him on the bed. “Maybe later.” She smirked. She got on top of him straddling him as she took his dick into her hands. He gasped at the feeling of her hand on him. She smirked at his reaction and started moving her hand. He was holding back moans as her hand dragged up and down his dick. “Don’t hide those pretty noises, angel.” She says and he almost came at her calling him that. He let himself make noises and she pleasured him. Each stroke getting a moan or groan out of him. She was getting wet at the sound of him. “What’s this feeling in my stomach? Why am I twitching?” He asked through heavy breathing. “Cas you’re about to have an orgasm. It’ll feel so good.” She told him speeding up her hand. “Better than this?” He asked. She nodded and said yes. She watched as his body shook and he twitched in her hand.

He was about to experience an orgasm for the very first time. Before he could experience that Y/N stopped her movements. Cas opened his eyes and looked at her. “Why’d you stop?” He asked her. She smirked at him and got off him. She began taking her clothes off slowly teasing him. He snapped his fingers and her clothes were off. She gasped and looked at him and he wore a smirk. “What was that for?” She asked getting back on him. “You were taking too long.” She laughed at his response and took his dick in her hand. She jerked him a few more times and placed him at her entrance. She slowly slid down on him causing them both to gasp at the feeling. Her pussy was drooling all over his dick as she sat on him fully taking him inside. Her walls gripped his dick tightly causing him to groan. “Are you good, Cas?” She asked. He nodded and closed his eyes, sighing as she began to move.

Her hips moved at a slow and hard pace not wanting either of them to cum too soon. She noticed Cas’ hands gripping her sheets and she grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. He opened his eyes to watch as she began moving faster. Her boobs started bouncing and his eyes drifted to them. Her head was thrown back as she let loose all the moans and whimpers she had building up. He swallowed a groan that threatened to escape as she looked back down at him. His hands gripped her hips tightly and she moaned at the feeling. He was going to leave a mark on both hips but she didn’t care. “How’s it feeling Cas?” She asked through moans. He sighed and let out a groan. “Good. So good.” He groaned out. She nodded and moaned. His hands that gripped her hips began moving her faster on him. “Where’d you learn that Cas?” She asked. “I-I don’t know, it felt right.” He groaned and shut his eyes. She tried to keep her eyes on him as she wanted to watch him fall apart but she was also in so much pleasure that she couldn’t help but close her eyes.

The bed was now shaking and moving with them and she felt him twitch again. “The- The feeling is back.” He tells her and opens his eyes to see her lost in pleasure. Her mouth was agape and drool was coming out some. “Fuck Cas I’m close too.” She whimpered. She placed her hands on his chest and looked him in the eyes. Both of them so close to falling over the edge. Noises fell from both of their lips. “Cum for me Cas, it’s okay.” She whispered. He did as he was told and his eyes turned bright blue as he orgasmed. Y/N held back her orgasm to watch what happens to his body as he does. He groaned and closed his eyes and she felt him fill her up. She gasped and let go moaning his name. She cried out and rode both of their highs until she collapsed next to him. Both were sweaty and out of breath. Y/N waited and watched as Cas opened his eyes. He turned to look at her and gave her a small smile. “Wow that was-” “Amazing. I know.” She finished his sentence.

She watched as he got up from the bed and snapped both of their clothes back on them. She set up and stretched some and he watched her. “So if you have feelings for me and we just had intercourse does that make us a couple?” He asked. She smiled and stood up. “I mean that is if you also have feelings for me.” She said. “Well yes I do feel a certain way about you that I don’t feel for others.” He stated. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “So Cas do you want to be my boyfriend?” She asked him. “Yes I would love to be your boyfriend, Y/N.” He says. She smiles and leans up to kiss him.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos. 

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email. 

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.) 

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else. 

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

Then you paced back and forth, trying to think of what to do. Should you leave your momentary shelter to go and find him, or would that just run the risk of him never finding you.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to do.

God, I’m so fucking screwed…

You slumped against the wall and tried to stifle your coughing, all while you also tried (and failed) to form some kind of a plan.

Until the bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?!

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.” 

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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A/N: Another Cas fic was highly voted for so here it is! My friend helped me with the ideas! Hope you enjoy <3 (Also PETITION FOR MORE CAS GIFS)

Characters: Castiel, Reader Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Castiel X Reader

Warnings: Fluff. That's all I have to say. Lots of fluff.

Summary: You and Castiel have been friends for a little while. You've grown so close and often do everything together. Of course, it doesn't take long for the Winchesters to notice, and after a nice day with Cas, true feelings arise.

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Y/N was in the kitchen making breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon for everyone. Slowly but surely, the boys began making there way to the table, sitting and chatting about a possible hunt.

When she turned around, she smiled at the sight. She walked over with the pan and scooped food into each of their plates. "Don't worry Sam, the fake bacon is on the stove." She teased him and he rolled his eyes, standing up to fix his plate.

"It's not fake bacon, it's healthier." He muttered and Dean laughed. Once they all sat down and began eating they started discussing a case.

Y/N glanced over and noticed Castiel had finished all of his food. "Damn, Angel. That was quick." She received a small smile and a nod in return, motioning towards the food. "It was good."

The brothers looked at each other for a moment, Dean raising a brow and Sam shaking his head. "Cas, I thought you-" He started, but the younger Winchester cleared his throat obnoxiously loud and gave Dean a tense smile. "We thought you could come with us on the case."

Y/N picked up her beer and rolled her eyes, not buying their bullshit. Castiel's face contorted, a puzzled expression creasing his features. "I almost always go with you, why wouldn't I now?"

"No reason, Cas. Just makin' sure." Dean finished before grabbing his plate and setting it in the sink. "I'm gonna go get ready, meet you guys out by the car in thirty."

She got up and grabbed everyone's plate, rinsing them off in the sink before washing her hands and retreating to her bedroom. Castiel was already there, handing her the bag he packed for her.

"Cas, I am fully capable of packing my own shit." She said as she searched through the luggage, making sure she had everything she needed.

"I know, but I like to make things easier for you." He stated and she smiled up at him. "Thanks. Now let's go, I want shotgun." The angel laughed and walked her outside, his hand on her back the whole way.

Unfortunately, Sam had beat her to the front seat and she groaned. "Seriously, Winchester! You always sit shotgun, let me have a turn!" She whined and Castiel frowned at her.

"You don't like sitting with me?" He asked and she quickly shook her head. "No, no, I just-... Fuck. Fine." She stammered, reluctantly getting into the back.

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When they arrived in Oklahoma, the brothers went to scout out a motel and insisted Cas and Y/N take a look around the area for anything suspicious.

The town was actually quite nice. Bright sun, markets on every block, pretty houses. While they were walking Castiel noticed a flower shop and motioned towards it. "Do you like flowers?" He questioned, and she nodded.

"Yeah, they're pretty. Do you?" She asked back, and he nodded as well. They crossed the street and went inside, the fresh scent of blooming plants flooding her senses.

"Do you want me to buy you flowers?" The angel offered and she smiled up at him. "No, Dean would be pissed if he found out we wasted our time here." She laughed a little at the thought and kept walking around, admiring the beautiful bouquets.

"But I don't think we're wasting time..." He murmured to himself with a small frown. After a moment he quickly followed her out of the store, earning a weird glance from the cashier.

"Y/N," He started and she glanced up at him. He pulled a bundle of purple flowers out from his trench-coat and handed them to her. "I wanted to get you flowers. Dean can't be mad if I didn't spend money."

She felt her cheeks warm as she studied the purple petals. "Castiel, you are aware you just stole from a shop, right?" She chuckled as he bit his lip to think. "Well, that's okay. I'm sure they can grow more."

The two of them laughed as they wandered through streets, the conversations flowing naturally. After a while she checked her phone and sighed. "We should probably get back to them."

"But they haven't called us. They said they would call us if they needed us." The angel bargained, glancing at her phone to see the time as well. "And it's not even that late." He added.

"Don't argue with me, Angel." She teased and he scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh. "Thank you for the flowers, by the way."

"Of course. They reminded me of you." He responded and she quirked a brow. "Why is that?"

"Because they're beautiful."

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After a few nights, they finally could call this a successful hunt. They went out to celebrate at a diner, Dean in the mood for nothing but pie and beer.

After the waitress came by and took everyone's order, Y/N nudged Cas. "You didn't order anything, do you want to share my plate." He shook his head and squeezed her leg. "No, I don't eat food."

"What do you mean? You eat food all the time." She questioned, a suspicious look on her face. "I don't need food. It all tastes like molecules, so I don't really care for it."

She raised a brow, confusion evident in her expression. "You eat my food." Her voice was raised at the end, as if it were a question. He nodded and smiled down at her, "I care about you."

The two Winchesters looked at each other, Dean obviously grossed out. "Get a room you two." Sam bickered and Dean widened his eyes in agreement. "For not liking food you sure do love the cheesy shit." He muttered.

"I love Y/N." Castiel said in an attempt to defend himself, but the table quickly went silent. Sam and Dean looked at each other with raised brows before glancing over at her.

"Was that inappropriate?" Castiel mumbled as he looked over at her, a slightly uncomfortable look in his eyes. She shook her head and let out an airy laugh. "No, it-... It's perfectly fine. I love you too, Cas."

The brothers broke out in an obnoxious celebration, laughing and nearly yelling at the two of them. "You lucky son of bitch!" Dean hooted, and Sam clapped his hands together in a laughing fit. "Oh that was adorable!"

Castiel looked over at her again, a bit concerned. "Why are they acting weird?" He questioned. "Because they're immature little boys." She retorted, not giving a care in the world. She moved forward and kissed the angel, a soft and quick kiss.

"I love you, Y/N."

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A/N: yippee. This took me a lot of motivation but I finally finished it. THANK YOU @m1zumon6 FOR THE HELP <3 I'm sorry I didn't let them eat grass 😔

I hope you all enjoyed!

Follow, like and leave feedback! Feel free to send requests <3