#sam winchester smuttish

[zepskies]

Big & Tall

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?

Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.

It was an honest mistake, really.

After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.

When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.

An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.

You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.

A smile unconsciously drew across your face.

You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.

The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.

The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.

Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.

Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.

Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.

Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.

“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.

You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”

Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”

Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.

“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.

And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.

Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.

…But never more than that, it seemed.

Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.

“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.

“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.

“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”

He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him. 

“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”

You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.

“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”

“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”

You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.

“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”

After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.

It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.

God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.

At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.

Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.

When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.

You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake. 

You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.

And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!

You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.

Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.

This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.

“Midnight snack?”

The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.

You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.

“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.

You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.

“No,” you replied.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.

He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.

“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.

Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”

Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.

“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.

Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.

He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.

The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.

Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.

You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.

“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.

That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.

“Too much?” he asked.

It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.

Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…

Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.

You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.

Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.

“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.

“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.

The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.

He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.

You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.

With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.

“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.

Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”

“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.

“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”

And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.

Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.

In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.

AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜

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[authoressskr]

This Secluded Glen

Written for: @d-s-winchester’s Fall in Love with Fall Challenge

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Characters: Reader (Hey, that’s you!), Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Donna Hanscum, mentions of Jody Mills and Claire Novak

Warnings: SMUT (it’s not very good smut, but I tried - maybe call it smuttish instead), Language, ugh, can’t think of anything else now...

Summary: Sleepy Hollow is your side passion - besides saving people and hunting things - and Dean calls one night with a lead. And to tease you about your crush on their resident angel.

Tagging: @lyndsay88 @nobodys-baby-now @lucis-unicorn @chelsea072498 @thewhiterabbit42

 “Hello?” You huffed, adrenaline still running high after the tussle with the ghost graveside.

“We got a case.”

“So nice to hear from you too Dean! No, I’m fine! Thank you for asking! How’s Sam? Cas? Good, good.” Donna chuckled at the rampant sarcasm, her face aglow with amusement and the fire from the grave.

“Can you meet us?”

“You know, I always cherish these moments with you.”

“Next time I’ll have Cas call you,” Dean answered with a knowing chuckle.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Tell Sam I said hi.”

“Alright, alright. That was a low blow. Can you meet us or not?” You shifted the shovel from its place tucked under your right armpit to your left hand, moving it back and forth absentmindedly. Donna moved away from the fire a few feet to take a call of her own, lifting her hand to point to the phone at her ear. You nodded at her, wishing the fire would burn faster but the little motel-sized bottle of vodka you’d had in your car and the dry autumn foliage was the only accelerant you’d had on hand...so this might take a bit. You sigh.

“Depends.”

“On?” You can hear Sam’s voice in the background, but can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Dude, I’m asking. ‘Kay. Well, Sam mentioned you were kind of an expert on whatever the hell this is supposed to be.”

“High praise.”

“Is that Y/N?” You hear Cas over the speakerphone which Dean must have just switched it to and fight the warmth that is rising in your cheeks.

“Hi, Cas. Hi, Sam.”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Hiya, Y/N. Did Dean tell you we found a case?”

“First thing he said to me actually, Sam.” As the fire began to die down, you dropped the shovel down into the grave to poke at the ashes, watching Donna approach you.

“Don’t act all pissy with me, princess.” You roll your eyes, letting Donna take the shovel as you turn your own phone to speaker.

“Your phone skills are lacking, Dean.” You mutter, following beside Donna as you make your way away from the grave, carefully picking your way through the headstones as the leaves crunch under your feet.

“Hi, Winchesters!” Donna calls out cheerfully, a bright smile on her face.

“Sherriff Hanscum!” Sam calls out. “How’s it going?”

“Better now that Y/N helped me with the ghost. Jody was busy, so she sent her on down. Didn’t even take a whole 24 hours!” You duck your head at Donna’s praise, making her elbow you lightly.

“Y/N is a very thorough hunter,” Cas adds and Donna lets out a little squeal.

“Are you Castiel - the angel?! Claire and Y/N told me ‘bout you!” Donna catches your glare and attempts to backtrack. “Oh, not that we talk about you a lot. Just in passin’, ya know?” You give up and just slap your free hand over your forehead and eyes, stopping at the tree line. “Not that I’m not curious!” She adds hurriedly and you can hear Sam and Dean snicker on the other end. Asshats.

“Alright, alright. Can you meet us or not?” Dean questions again as Donna loads the shovel into her cruiser’s trunk then leans against the side.

“You haven’t told me anything except you found a case. What is it that Team Free Will can’t handle?”

“It’s not that we can’t handle it -”

“Dean, Y/N gave you very detailed instructions to call her if a case came up in or near Sleepy Hollow, New York.” Cas interrupts and you can picture his handsome face so sternly lecturing -- wait.

“Sleepy Hollow? THE Sleepy Hollow?” You manage a deep breath before continuing. “You know what Dean? No. Have a good night Sam and Cas.” Your about to jam your thumb onto the red “End” button - which isn’t half as satisfying as slamming a phone on a receiver or the click of an old school flip phone - when Sam’s voice is calling your name.

“Y/N! Don’t hang up!”

“You gotta give him a chance, Y/N!” Donna yells in tandem, her hands outstretched and aloft in a “Stop” gesture.

“Send me the details, Sam. I’ll read it when I pulled over for my first break. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Just remember I got a hell of a right hook.”

“And I will not heal you from any injuries that Y/N delivers upon you.” You want to brush this off but you know your face has softened at his declaration. Dean’s laughter surprises you a little and when Donna sees your lips curl slightly, she scoffs before smiling herself.

“I love to annoy you, Y/N. You know that. And we’ll be seeing you in few hours.”

“Uh, no. I drive the speed limit, buddy.”

“We’ll see you soon, Y/N. Oh, and I’ve just emailed the news stories to you. And directions.” Dean snickers again and you’d bet your bottom dollar that Sam has a huge grin plastered on his face.

“I get lost once and you two will never let me live it down.”

“Nope. See you soon, kiddo.” Dean calls out and you hear the chair scrape.

“Wait - I have not gotten to say goodbye to Y/N.”

“Goodbye and goodnight Cas. I’ll see you all soon. Bye Sam. Bye asshat.” You disconnect the call, tucking the phone into your back pocket before meeting Donna’s knowing gaze.

”Come on, let’s get you back into town for some shut-eye. You can get a couple hours at least.” Arching an eyebrow, you make your way around to the passenger side and slide in. “Dream some sweet angel-filled dreams.” And there it was.

“Not you too Donna.”

”Oh, I’m all for it. I ship it hard. Isn’t that what that means? All aboard the SS Love Boat featuring Y/N and Cas!” She toots the horn as she pulls onto the road, her laughter filling the cab.

“See if I bring you any more of those caramels you like.”

“I betcha I’ll get lots of those caramels if you get laid.”

---

Even with three hours sleep, you arrive dead ass tired in the town that had fascinated you since childhood.

The seventeen-and-a-half-hour drive was made in about fifteen, which gave you a little time to nap before the Winchesters and Cas showed up. You asked for two rooms, texted Sam that you’d gotten them a room beside yours and you were laying down. Not waiting for a reply, you enter your room, and immediately pulled out your handy dandy notebook which held your handmade stencils. You pull a small can of glow in the dark spray paint out of the side pocket of your duffle before kneeling. You spray on the stencils right above the old baseboards, all except the angel warding, which you put by the light switch with a post-it note below it that read ”Scratch and Sniff: Angel Edition”. Chucking off your dirty skinny jeans and tossing on an overly large t-shirt, you crawl into the cheap motel’s bed, clutching your pillow as you drift off.

---

Three hours later, Dean and Cas kept a lookout while Sam picked the lock to Y/N’s room. A handful of seconds after that, Sam was easing into the room, smirking at the post-it note on the table next to their room keys. “˜Take the keys only if you aren’t going to have loud, obnoxious sex next door. Or sing “Jump” by Kris Kross in the shower at ridiculous-o’clock in the morning.” Y/N and her damn post-it notes. Dean taps the post-it note by the switch, a soft chuckle coming out before he watched Cas slip into the room, closing the door behind him softly, eyeing where he knew she had placed the wardings before his gaze traveled to her sleeping form on the bed farthest from the door. At least she had finally fixed it from the previous hunt they all worked together on.

Sam tossed Dean his room key before shooting Cas a knowing look and slipping through the connecting door. Dean jerked his head towards the open door, Cas following behind with one last look towards Y/N.

“Gonna grab some food, then wake her up and go over everything. Gonna stay here?”

“Yes. I will stay.”

“Thought so.” Cas heard the rumble of the Impala retreat and he wandered back into Y/N’s room, sitting on the edge of the empty bed, listening to her deep, even breaths.

The moment he had met her, it’s like the world had shifted. Each movement she’d made while fighting the vampire was a dance. To someone else, it would seem not as rough, not as trained as Sam and Dean’s kind of fighting - but to him, it was a dance to which only you’d known the music. Three vamps were dead by your hand before he snapped out of it, smiting a few before standing beside Dean, waiting for an introduction. “Oh, by the way, this is Cas. He’s an angel,” Cas had fought not to shoot a sharp look at Dean, extending his hand out. You had taken his hand, squeezing it and smiling at him warmly.

Each encounter, ten in total - not counting this current case - had only made his feelings grow and consume him. Every smile, joke, show of your intelligence and the kindness that radiated from your soul had him longing for you. Desperate for every look and touch you would bestow on him.

He heard your breathing pattern change, watched you shift under the covers then settle back down just minutes before he heard the Impala once more outside.

Dean and Sam entered through their room door, leaving their jackets and taking quiet footsteps into her room. You shifted again, the smell dragging you from unconsciousness.

“Are those tacos?” The rough sleepiness of your voice had Cas filled with want. A want to lie beside you and hear your voice like that every morning. He quickly pushed those thoughts away, moving to stand.

“You bet your sweet little ass they are.” Dean watches as you shift to a sitting position, pushing the covers down to your lap and rub your eyes with the heel of your hand. You give Cas a lopsided smile before making grabby hands at the bag Dean’s holding. Sam sets a cup on the nightstand before sitting down beside you then digging into his own bag.

“Hi, Cas.”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“I see I got the warding right this time. It didn’t cause you any problems?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Good. Now, Dean, hand over the tacos.”

“This bag is all yours, princess.” He drops the bag into your lap before taking a chair from the table and flipping it around to straddle.

“You read the articles?” Sam manages around a mouthful of burrito and you get out a nod, shoving most of a street taco into your mouth as Sam’s lips twitch. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh...Donna made me some waffles before I left her house. Then I went to the motel and slept for a couple hours before I started heading here. Ooh! And I had about half a bag of jerky when I stopped just before the Ohio state line.”

“Told ya,” Dean told Sam. “That’s why I got fifteen of those little tacos. Dude looked at me like I was crazy.”

“You kinda are, Dean.” You shifted a little, gesturing to the other bed. “Sit, Cas. Please.” He nods and resumes his seat. You swallow down the fourth - or fifth? Sixth? - taco and unwrap another from its tinfoil prison. “Yeah, I read the articles. Well, two. The last one wouldn’t load all the way. I just assumed I was in a dead spot and you’d fill in whatever was missing. But the basics, of all three articles, are that suddenly people are seeing a headless horseman. Who chases them through the glen and to the bridge. Then disappears.”

“Yep.”

“It’s not possible.” You tell Dean with a heavy sigh, taking a big bite before softly groaning. This would have to be your last taco. For now.

“Y/N, we deal with impossible things all the time. I’m pretty damn sure it’s possible.”

“No, it’s not possible, Dean. Ichabod got rid of the Hessian spirit.”

“That’s a story.”

“You’ll be a story one day. Look, the reason you called me was that every hunter I’ve met and worked with knows how I am about Sleepy Hollow. When I tell you it isn’t possible, it isn’t possible.” You carefully wrap up what’s left of your wonderful taco bounty and push the covers away, moving to the small motel fridge.

Dean smirks when he sees Cas’s eyes go wide at seeing you aren’t wearing pants. And that sleep shirt may be four sizes too wide for you, but it’s not that long. They can all see gray and purple striped bikini-style underwear perfectly. You move from the fridge to your duffle, with a pair of dark sapphire eyes glued to your ass, squatting down to rummage through until you found the college notebook you always kept with you. You return to the bed, shuffling the covers haphazardly over your bare legs.

“Washington did take a lot of things from real life. The names of his main characters, the locations, and the old European stories of headless riders – like the Wild Hunt, The Wild Huntsman, etc. Ichabod Crane was an army captain. Only he wasn’t.”

“I thought he was a schoolteacher.”

“In the story, he is. But apparently, we’ve been bullshitting since we came to this country because Ichabod wasn’t an army captain, he was a Hunter. It took me nearly fifteen years to track down just where his actual resting place was,” You flip the notebook open nearly halfway before handing it to Sam. “And when I did track down a headstone, that’s all it was. He was cremated.”

“Lots of people are cremated,” Dean argues.

“Lots of headstones have the Aquarian Star carved into the stone?” You smirk at the eldest Winchester. “Didn’t think so.” You rise and return to your duffle again, tugging on a pair of clean skinny jeans. “It makes sense. An American hunter who is involved not only in the war for independence but trying to follow any orders he might have gotten from the Men of Letters regarding monsters. Not that they’d be terribly helpful since we were trying to cut ties with them - But he meets a writer who likes his name - enough to use it for his most famous tale. Washington Irving made Ichabod superstitious...but what if that was something he noticed in the captain? What if he saw the Aquarian Star or a Devil’s Trap and decided that was a great basis for his story?” You sit at the end of your bed, face to face with Dean. “Dean - this, this place - I’ve been dreaming about it since I was little. Not like other girls dreamed of being Disney princesses, though I did that too. But I can hear it. The leaves shaking in the breeze, the even breaths of the old horse and the soft hoofbeats on the old trail.” Dean is searching your face, trying to find the lie. “I know Ichabod crossed that bridge. I know he had something of the horseman’s. And once he was safely across, he burned it, getting rid of the spirit.” You sigh, letting your head fall into your waiting hands, tugging softly at your hair trying to clear out all the thoughts and sounds.

“I’ve asked you before if you were psychic. And you said no.”

“It’s not that. It’s more like a memory. Like I was there or close by.”

“Could you recognize it?” Sam speaks up from behind you, leaning forward enough that a few pieces of hair swing towards his eyes.

“I’ve been all over the area, searching for the place I saw. I’ve never found it.” You shrug, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.”I’ve got a map in my notebook, I always start at the bridge and wander from there... but I don’t know anymore.”

“Time changes how things look. I could alter how you would see the woods, how it would have appeared around Ichabod’s time.” Cas offers, standing and shifting minutely as her gaze settled on him.

“Really? That would be amazing Castiel!” You toss yourself at Cas, wrapping your arms around him tightly. His hands hesitate before patting your back a few times, silently memorizing every detail of this encounter. You pull away with a giant grin. “Let me grab my shoes and socks and we can head out, okay?” Castiel nodded at her words, his eyes darting to Dean who was sporting a knowing, wide grin. Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean as Sam handed the notebook back, heading between Dean and Cas to their room for his jacket, his own small smile at Cas and your exchange tugging at his lips.

“Ready?” You ask breathlessly, eagerness flowing from you, hurriedly pulling on your cotton-lined, dark blue faux leather jacket and sliding the room key into the inner pocket before zipping it up.

“I am always ready,” Castiel answers with a small smile, moving to hold the door open as the Winchesters come back through her room and follow behind her, still sporting those stupid smiles.

---

In the dark, nothing looked familiar. Not even with Cas’s long fingers wrapped around your wrist, altering your view of the autumn trees and the black path ahead.

Dean made the decision about forty minutes in that it’d be better to come back in the morning, after a visit to the police in Fed gear to get more information and a few hours’ sleep.

Sam and Dean began heading back to the Impala, talking softly while you hung back, Cas’s hand still warm on your wrist. The contact had your face flushing, happy it was dark enough to cover the way your gaze couldn’t settle on just one thing.

“I am sorry we could not discern anything more. Hopefully, tomorrow will bring more luck.”

“It’s okay Cas. At this point, I’m pretty used to disappointment when it comes to this.” You wave your free hand for emphasis at the surrounding trees. “Why do you think I remem -” You froze, hearing a breeze whip up as the leaves shudder around the pair of you, hoofbeats sounding off in the distance. Sam could be seen at the head of the path.

“You guys coming?!” You can see the shiny black paint of the car just behind him as you turn back to Cas, his fingers digging into your wrist as he tugged you behind him, the hoofbeats getting louder. “Dean! Gun it!” You hear Sam shout before Cas turns slightly, keeping his gaze trained further up the trail.

“Get to the car.” His order is firm, his Angel blade slipping from his coat sleeve, the silver metal shining in the faint moonlight. Your hands grasp his biceps through his trench coat, pressing yourself against his back as dirt flies around your lower body - Dean whipping Baby into the tight space just behind you.

That’s when he appeared.

Astride a huge black horse, it’s rider seemingly looking down upon you - even with his lack of head - as the orange and red leaves of autumn settled around the hooves of his steed.

The chill that ran down your spine was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and the quick seeping cold of the fall night.

The rider let loose a deep chuckle, pulling up the dark red bag that hung loosely from his pommel as you feel big hands on your arms, tugging you from your place behind Cas. It just made you cling tighter to the angel, staring just past him.

And anger welled within you from so deep, you couldn’t even fathom where this burst came from. It was just suddenly there, as large and tangible as the rider.

Poor Cas didn’t even have time to react when you shoved him into Sam, running towards the horseman as rage flowed through your veins.

By the time Cas popped over to you, Dean and Sam hot on his feathery heels, you had yanked the rider from his horse and straddled his torso. The first cries from the man beneath you have Cas withdrawing his hands from your upper arms, peering curiously down at the being.

“Please! I just wanted to have some fun! Please ma’am! I’m only twenty-four!”

“You little motherfucker!!” You grunt, yanking the large black hood that blocked his head from view before dealing him a vicious right hook. “You little shit! Do you know what I’ve -- ma’am?!”

“Okay, that’s enough of that.” Dean snaps out as Cas hauls you off the guy. “Ya know, the lady that just handed your ass to you just drove nearly fifteen hours to get here. All because you were playing a prank.” Dean licks his lips, smirking down at the kid. “I should let her wail on you some more...”

“I swear I won’t do it again, sir! I’ll never pull another prank again! I swear! I swear!” The poor dumbass is nearly in tears by the end and you’re so zoned out by the sudden loss of your rage you can’t manage anything but feeling.

And Lord - what you’re currently feeling is the stuff of dreams.

Cas’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm still wound tightly around your middle as his heat warms you. All of him is lean, strong, warm and a particular part is hard. If you’d been in your right mind, you would have told yourself that it was just adrenaline or some other excuse, but in this mindset, where you were so beyond anger, you couldn’t give two shits. You lean against him, letting your head loll back to rest against his shoulder, taking in his ozone and rain scent as your eyes flutter closed. He tenses beneath you for a millisecond before his fingers tighten, holding you close.

---

The ride back to the motel is quiet. Dean tries to make a few lighthearted jokes, but you can’t stop thinking back to being in Cas’s embrace. Hell, he had to maneuver you into the Impala after the Winchesters had threatened the bastard who was running around scaring the locals and you’d followed them back to the car with the angel’s gentle grip on your elbow.

Lord, this was a mess. You were a mess. First falling for the angel and now loosing yourself in this feeling after the blunder that you’d been waiting your whole life for. For the thing you’d always been trying to track down.

Maybe you were crazy.

That seemed the most likely outcome.

You sigh heavily, looking at the orange, yellow and red-brown leaves that still clung resolutely to the trees in yellow streetlights of town, watching as they sway slightly in the light breeze of the night.

A warm, large hand covers your own, drawing your gaze to the man beside you - more importantly, it’s drawing you from your thoughts to just focus on him.

You’d known Cas for the last two years and had been almost immediately (and embarrassedly) smitten. Those navy eyes had drawn you in, but his naturally sweet and loving demeanor had sealed your fate. How life had screwed him over multiple times, how he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and how he longed for Heaven and for absolution. A year ago, was when you had finally admitted you were in love with the former garrison captain, the night he had shoved his hand into a werewolf’s chest with a snarl of “No!” stopping the wolf from shoving his claws any farther into your thigh.

Are you alright?

“Humm?” Oh. Yeah. I, uh, I’m alright. A little disappointed, but that’s nothing new regarding this.

You are thinking again.

I’m usually overthinking things, Cas. You drop your gaze to your lap, then glance back out the window, fingers tangling with Castiel’s.

It is a trait that makes you a very good hunter.

And a mess of a human.

A beautiful human. Your eyes go wide, snapping your head back to face Cas.

“You two lovebirds coming?” Dean teases as he put the car in park, throwing his arm over the back and winking at the two of you.

“In a minute,” Cas answers, allowing Dean and Sam ample time to exit before turning to you, his sapphire eyes locked at our entwined hands.

“Y/N.” You stare at his handsome face peering down, his hand clenching and loosening around your own. “So delicate.” You scoff, his eyes looking at you from under his lashes. “So beautiful.”

“Castiel.”

“I love how you say my name.” He confesses in a deep rumble, unable to keep the words from tumbling from his lips. “How soft you say it, like a breeze that flits softly through the leaves. Or how gently you pray it, even in your mind. Or how you’ll send images. Of a cup of hot chocolate when you want me beside you. Of the fall leaves basked in the bright moonlight when you switch to thinking about Sleepy Hollow. Sometimes you send them without thinking. Of the two of us sitting on a blanket by the bridge, where you remember throwing red leaves into the river below when you were five or six with your mom, sipping coffee in the early afternoon when there isn’t any traffic, just past any passerby’s line of sight.” His free hand comes up to cup your face. “I’d never pry into your mind. But I enjoy those moments when your mind wanders to me.” His face eases closer as your heart begins to race. “Gives me hope.” His breath fans over your face. “Am I right to have hope?”

“So right.” You mumble before you press your lips against his, sliding closer. Feeling his lips move against yours, pressing more eagerly before you pull away for air. The blue of his eyes is slowly being swallowed by black as his pupils dilate and your chest heaves. Your hands fist eagerly in his trench coat as you press your lips against his, your tongue teasing against the seam of his lips. Cas lets the hand by your jawline drop, wrapping it tightly around you, pressing you two chest to chest as his mouth moves eagerly against yours. The squeak you made when he hauled you upright turns into a sigh as his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist as you open to him.

Your pushing at his trench coat and suit coat, hungry for the angel.

“Dean.” His deep voice pants out.

“Uh, nope. That’s not my name.”

“I’m aware. I meant to say that Dean will certainly attempt bodily harm to us if we go any further in his car.”

“I think if Dean can have sex with an angel in his car, so can I.” You lean forward, capturing his lips again, cutting him off from any further arguments. He responded just as eagerly, finally releasing your joined hands and dragging your lower body closer to his own, shifting you until you were nearly lying on the bench seat.

“Off.” You mutter against his lips, pulling away for air as his lips kiss down your throat, the roughness of his stubble feeling soooo good against the sensitive skin. Cas shrugs out of his jackets before he settles atop you, his hand is pushing your shirt up, those warm, long fingers brushing over your hip then your stomach skimming higher as his lips return to yours briefly.

“So beautiful. My beautiful huntress.” You whine as he finally squeezes your left breast, his fingers brushing over your nipple. “I love you, Y/N. Your eyes, your soul,” He lets out a little grunt as he ruts his hips against yours, “all of you is wondrous and amazing.” You stop, your hands releasing the shirt you’d been unbuttoning to cup his face as those sapphire eyes stare down at you. The emotions swirling in those fathomless depths sent a thrill through you.

“I love you, Castiel.” As soon as you finish saying his name, his lips are pressed firmly against yours, his hands roaming everywhere suddenly - as if your confession had unleashed something within the angel. You chuckle slightly as you break apart, forgoing dealing with his shirt anymore and going straight for his belt buckle.

“WHOA!” A loud banging sounds on the roof, startling you, making you hide your face in Cas’s shoulder. “Not in Baby!!”

“You said I am a Winchester. All of you have had sex in this car.” You cough to cover up your laugh at what Cas snarked out to Dean.

“No. NO. NO!” Dean calls out loudly, bending down to peer into the car. “Sorry. Not gonna happen, Cas.”

“Fine.” He grits out before snapping his fingers. A soft mattress is at your back, and Cas’s weight comfortably pressing into you.

“Where were we?” You ask, nipping at his bottom lip while your hands undo his fly, fingertips sliding into the back of his pants, under his boxers, your hands digging firmly into his ass. You gasp as he rolls his hips just after.

“Need you now. Waited so long.”

“Fuck. Yes. Yes, Cas. Slow can wait until next time.” He gives a short nod, snapping to remove both your clothes. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed by your miles of stretch marks and the twenty extra pounds you were carrying. This tall, tan, beautiful and eternal being is looking down at you like you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Cas kisses you softly, using his thigh to push your legs wider before settling between them. You kiss at his neck, sucking on the pulse point hard before nipping at his Adam’s apple, loving the groan you pull from him. Cas braces his arms beside your shoulders as you reach down between your bodies, guiding him to your core. You tease yourself first, rubbing his tip through your damp folds and tossing your head back with a moan as his grace appears, vibrating against your breasts - pulling, sucking and buzzing over every inch of skin - before slipping down to your clit. Cas moves forward in your hand before reaching down to bat your hand away, notching himself at your entrance before slowly sinking in.

”Oh.” You gasp out, revealing in the feeling of him stretching you. “Oh, fuck. Cas, Cas, I need you to move. Please.” He starts with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust while his mouth maps out your neck with open-mouthed kisses and a few hard bites. “Yes, angel.” You whimper out, digging your nails into his back, causing him to thrust harder.

“Do that again. Please.” Thank God, he sounds as wrecked as you. You obliged, digging your nails more into his back, closer to his spine now, causing him to buck up into you as you whisper “Angel” over and over again.

You tense then, your eyes glued to the air just past Cas’s shoulder. He freezes, looking over his shoulder.

“What?” You reach forward, still clinging to your angel, your fingers meeting soft, semi-opaque black feathers. You can mostly see through his wings, turning to glance at Castiel who is staring at you with wide cobalt eyes. “You can see my wings?” His deep voice is just above a whisper. A nod is all you can manage. “Have you ever seen them before?” You shake your head, his head dropping to your shoulder as you run your hand firmer against his wings causing Cas to thrust into you again, burying himself deeper in you. “Mine,” Cas growled, resuming thrusting against you. “Knew you were special.” He’s panting the words against your neck as he picks up speed, nearly shoving you up the bed as he lets himself go. “My human.”

“Yes, Castiel. All yours.” It takes a handful of seconds for you to reply, that warmth blossoming in your belly as his grace keeps buzzing over every sensitive spot on your skin, making it hard to remember the English language. “Angel.” You reply, one hand tugging at his dark locks to bring his mouth to yours, hungry to feel those chapped lips so eager against yours. You dissolve into whimpers and pants as he brings you closer to the edge, the motel bed creaking and hitting the wall as he grabbed your thigh, lifting your leg around his waist. “Fuuuuuck,” tears itself from your throat, your hand tightening in his hair as the other dug your nails into the smooth, warm juncture where his wings joined against his back. He snarled against your throat, moving to claim your mouth once more.

“Jesus!” You hear through the wall as a few loud knocks sound against it before a door slams loudly. Cas ignores Dean’s outburst, digging his knees into the mattress to get more leverage as you tightened around him.

“So perfect. So tight. Squeezing around me so good, Y/N.” How he can even string together more than obscenities and your name is beyond you at this point, leaning up to return the favor of marking his neck as you cling harder to Cas, so close to the edge.

“Cas.” You whine, clenching hard around your angel as your vision whites out. “CASTIEL!” He manages a half-dozen sloppy thrusts before he’s coming, chanting your name like a prayer, and his thrusts slowing, riding out both your orgasms.

“I,” He swallows audibly by your ear, pressing a few errant kisses against your throat and jaw. “I love you. Thank you.” He pushes a few pieces of hair away from your sweaty forehead, peering down at you with such affection it makes your chest tight.

“I love you too, Castiel. And, uh, thank you too.” He chuckles at the awkwardness as he moves to kiss you properly, easing out of you before nuzzling against your throat.

“I know this is not in the usual order of things,” Cas begins, snapping to clean away the mess before lying on his back, letting you curl up against him and tightening his arm around you. “But could we, uh, perhaps, maybe -”

“Get coffee?”

“Yes. And perhaps dinner?” You chuckle, tracing random patterns on his chest.

“Cas, you don’t eat.” You prop yourself up on your elbow, smiling down at him. He opened his mouth to answer before your lips press firmly against his in a quick kiss. “Coffee is great. Cuddling and maybe another round or two later?”

“I am very much in agreement with that,” Cas mutters, pulling you down into a deeper kiss. “After you get some sleep, beloved.” You ease back down, head on his chest and curling against him you hum in agreement. You drift off to sleep as Cas strokes his fingers through your hair.

---

“Beloved.” A soft kiss is pressed against your shoulder before a light nip. “I have something planned for us this morning,” Cas mumbles against your skin, his fingers digging into your side lightly.

“Mmmm.” You reply, pressing your face harder into the pillow.

“I have started the shower for you.” His presses a few more kisses down your neck and shoulder. “But you must rise.” You shuffle and wiggle until you are facing Cas, trying to pry your unwilling eyes open some more.

“Are you a morning person? Cause if we’re gonna date, that’s gotta stop. I’m only bringing this up because, while rounds two and three were very, very amazing, I really wanna sleep in, Cas.”

“Thank you for commenting on my sexual prowess. And it is nearly ten thirty in the morning. I believe I have let you sleep in sufficiently.”

“Oh.” You pause, pursing your lips in thought. “Alright. Okay.” You push yourself into a sitting position, holding the sheet to your chest. “You win.” A yawn escapes as you ease away from your lover. You lean down, grabbing his trench coat off the floor for the quick jaunt to the bathroom.

A deep growl emanates from his chest as he presses you against the wall.

“You look very sexy in my coat.”

You chuckle, pressing a few kisses along his jawline, working your way to his lips.

“I think you’re insatiable.” You murmur as his hand runs through your hair, piercing you with those galaxy-riddled blue eyes.

“When it comes to you, yes.” Cas purrs before kissing you hard. “The shower will get cold. Go bathe.”

You do as he asks, exiting from the shower a handful of minutes later, teeth brushed and mostly awake.

Cas is dressed and waiting at the door, an eager smile tugging at his lips.

“Ready?” He asks as you approach, rolling your neck before smiling kindly at him.

“Yeah.” You lean up to brush your lips against his in a barely there kiss, letting him pull you tight against his body as you disappear from the motel room.

---

The sun is a lot brighter than you expect, yellow and orange leaves dancing around your feet as you take in your surroundings.

You’re by the covered bridge, on the “safe” side - the side that once you’re on, the Hessian ghost is through and his powers end - with a large plaid blanket spread out a few feet further down the embankment, just out of sight of any potential passerby.

“I wanted to make your vision, the one that always makes me happiest to see, a reality.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head then leads you forward, letting you drop down to the blanket and get situated before joining you. He elects to sit behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he hands you a large to go cup.

“Does this also count as our coffee date?”

“Yes. I would like to believe it does.” You turn your head to look up at Cas, your head right by his shoulder as he looks down at you with a bright, white smile. His eyes dart over to the cup and you wrinkle your nose slightly, raising your head to look at the white cup.

My Mate, Y/N   Is scrawled is Castiel’s handwriting, and you tear up.

“I, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You turn halfway, planting your hand on his chest and sniffling.

“Good tears, honey. Good tears.” He relaxes under your hand, reaching up to cup your face and bring you in for a deep kiss. “Also, I’ve read enough lore in the Batcave to know seeing your wings without my eyeballs frying is a pretty,” You peck his lips. “Big.” Another kiss. “Deal.” Another. “Feathers.”

“And you're - you are okay with this?”

“Yeah.” You settle against his chest again, sipping your rich hot chocolate with a sigh. “Are you okay with this?”

“Far more than okay. I am glad you’re my mate. I believe ecstatic is the word - it is the word Sam used this morning to describe my demeanor.” A small breeze ruffles your hair, his words soft right by your ear, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

“How’d, uh, how’d that meeting go this morning?”

“Dean mentioned considering silencing sigils. I told him we have all had to endure hearing his lovemaking through the walls of various establishments but that it would not happen again. Sam laughed and Dean shut up.”

“Nice.” You snicker out, turning your head to press a quick kiss to his jaw before you turn back, watching as handfuls of leaves flow down the little river below where you two sat. “This is beyond perfect. Thank you, Castiel.” You take a deep breath, loving the scent of earth, of the slight decay of leaves and the warm scent of the angel you were in love with surrounding you. “I should send that kid a gift basket.”

“For punching him?”

“For getting us together. Oh, and can you remind me to order some caramels from that place in Wyoming? I owe Donna.”

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Deal

Deal https://ift.tt/NHIVOsr by ReelNaturalFreak Sam is dead and Dean summons a crossroads demon to bring his brother back. Turns out it's the best deal Dean could have hoped for. Words: 99, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of HS Birthday drabbles and not so much drabbles Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Demon Deals, Demon Castiel (Supernatural), Drabble, Dean Winchester is into, Smuttish, kind of, Pre-smut? via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/RrZwDvV July 29, 2023 at 01:48AM