she/her | teen | brazilian | bot maker | maybe i'll try to write something | dean winchester's girl | fan of The Smiths, Taylor, Supernatural, DC and Lord of the Rings |
On a rainy night, Sam sneaks through your window like he always does, but this time, he finds your open notebook. One glance at the page reveals the truth you never meant for him to see.
⭑.ᐟ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: It takes place in the ninth season, when Dean kicks Castiel out of the bunker.
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: In a quiet café, you teach human!Castiel how to drink coffee without burning himself. Between shy smiles, soft laughter, and his honest curiosity, the moment turns into something more. His first sip not just of coffee, but of genuine, growing feelings for you.
The café was warm and welcoming, unlike the world outside, which to Castiel, newly human, was cold and confusing. You had brought him there because he seemed... tired. Or as close to tired as a once-angel could seem.
He soon sat down at the back table, settling into the various sensations coming at him all at once: the smell of coffee, the waiters walking back and forth, the wind coming in through the windows, you looking at him as you smiled.
“So this is where humans like to ingest high doses of caffeine?” he asked quietly.
“Actually, we drink more coffee when we stay up all night to finish college work, but that feeling isn't worth you trying.”
As he reflected on your words, you ordered two cups of coffee, which were soon brought by the waiter.
“Careful, it's hot,” you warned him, seeing the steam rising from the liquid.
Maybe he didn't understand what you said, or maybe he just didn't care, but he quickly brought the cup to his mouth and took too big a sip.
The impact was immediate.
With his eyes wide, he slammed the cup down on the table and put his hand to his mouth. “That's burning!”
You almost fell off your chair laughing. “Cas, I warned you!”
“I think my mouth is on fire,” he says, touching his tongue, now red from the temperature of the coffee.
You laughed even harder, leaning your hand on the table to keep your balance.
“You have to blow on it first.” To demonstrate, you picked up your own cup, brought it to your mouth, and blew on it, letting the steam escape until the coffee was at a drinkable temperature.
He watched your every move with exaggerated concentration, and you couldn't tell if he was really learning how to drink coffee or just watching the movement of your lips.
“Should I... imitate that movement?” he asked, almost in a whisper.
"Yes, Cas. Blow on it first. Slowly."
Castiel nodded very seriously and raised the cup once more, now blowing before drinking, and a small satisfied smile appeared on his lips as the smoke danced gently away. “Is that it?”
“Perfect.” You smiled, proud of your achievement. Even though it was something simple for you, for Castiel it was the beginning of a new world.
“I'm not sure I fully understand the experience...” He said as he took the last sip, now without burning himself. “But I think I liked it.”
“The coffee?” you teased, playing with the rim of the cup.
“Yes, it's good.” He hesitated a little, wondering if he should continue. “But mainly being here with you,” he replied at last, a shy smile appearing at the corner of his lips.
You laughed softly, warmth spreading across your cheeks, but you didn't answer him. It wasn't necessary. You just continued drinking your coffee, which had now become a symbol of the mess that was your relationship.
After a dangerous hunt, the tension between you and Dean finally ignites. What was supposed to be “just once” quickly spirals out of control when he touches you with a hunger he can’t hide
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: What starts as a slightly disappointing morning quickly turns into a heartwarming surprise when the angel shows up with a homemade cake and a trembling, earnest rendition of the birthday song
⭑.ᐟ My birthday was yesterday, so I spent the whole week (and even managed to delay it by a day) thinking about how each of them (Sam, Dean, and Cas) would celebrate the birthday of the person they love.
⭑.ᐟsam's version / dean's version
You woke up to a sunny day, the sun shining as if to confirm that everything would be perfect, since today is your birthday.
As you walked down to the kitchen, humming your song, you bumped into Castiel.
“Good morning. Happy... Friday,” he said with his usual calm.
You froze for a few seconds, trying to figure out if it was some kind of joke. “That's it? Nothing... better to celebrate today?” you asked, hoping he would remember.
“No, not that I can remember,” he looked away and left without saying anything else.
You took a deep breath, a little disappointed, but tried not to show it. To lift your spirits, you decided to go for a walk. What could be better than eating a pie alone?
The sun seemed to want to remind you that today should be happy and exciting, but now it just made you feel sick and hot.
When you returned, still lost in thought, you pushed open the bunker door and was immediately hit by a sweet, familiar, and irresistible aroma. Your heart raced.
Cas stood like a statue, a small cake in one hand and a crumpled piece of paper in the other.
Without letting you say anything, he began to literally speak the birthday song, reading it from the paper. You noticed that he was very nervous, his hands trembling and his voice faltering.
You could barely contain your laughter, and your eyes began to shine with emotion. It was the sweetest and most awkward thing anyone could ever do for you.
“Cas, that's enough,” you interrupted him before he exploded with anxiety, took the cake from his hand, and placed it on the table. “It's perfect, but you didn't have to.”
“I... I wanted to,” he said, without taking his eyes off you. “Happy birthday.”
“So now you remember my birthday?” You crossed your arms, but you were smiling like a child getting candy.
“It was on purpose, so I had more time to make the cake.” He tried to explain, not wanting to upset you.
You laughed softly and ran your hand over his shoulders, feeling his warmth close to your body. “I understand, and this is proof that you care, even if you pretend to forget.”
He remained silent for a moment, absorbing your words, his eyes softly lit by something that looked like emotion. “I care, a lot.” Slowly, he pulled you by the waist and rested his forehead against yours.
For a few moments, the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you and the cake.
“So... can I cut the cake now?” he asked, before kissing your cheek and pulling you away a little.
You laughed again, reaching for the knife near the cake. “You can, but the first piece is mine.”
He gave a shy smile, and at that moment, everything seemed perfect: the cake, the candles, the bright day, and above all, the angel who had become your most cherished possession.
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: On your first birthday as Sam Winchester’s girlfriend, you expect a quiet, simple day, but he turns an ordinary rainy morning into an unforgettable celebration.
⭑.ᐟ My birthday was yesterday, so I spent the whole week (and even managed to delay it by a day) thinking about how each of them (Sam, Dean, and Cas) would celebrate the birthday of the person they love.
⭑.ᐟ dean's version / cas's version
Today is a different day, perhaps even a special one.
It's your first anniversary since you started dating Sam, so you don't know exactly what to expect. Maybe a walk outdoors while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Yes, that would be perfect. But your plan fell through when you woke up to the sound of rain in the morning.
You stretched slowly, not wanting to get out from under the covers. Another year had passed, and you were happy and grateful after all the challenges of this life, but you weren't expecting anything from today.
Until you heard him come in.
“Good morning, birthday girl.” The smell of coffee filled the room when Sam walked in with two mugs in his hands.
You smiled, still lying in bed. “It's still too early...”
“No, it's not.” He placed the mugs on the bedside table next to the bed and sat down beside you. “You're just lazy.”
“But I can be, it's my birthday,” you replied, pulling the blanket up to your chin and giving him a provocative look.
“You're right,” he said, tilting his head and kissing your forehead. “But I thought we could go for a walk.”
Your interest was piqued and you sat up. “But it's raining,” you pointed to the window, where drops were slowly running down the glass.
Sam followed your gaze and smiled, that calm smile that always made you forget the rest of the world. “So what? It's a good rain, the kind that leaves the air cool and smells like wet earth.”
You didn't even have to think about it, you just drank all your coffee in seconds and kicked him out of the room to get ready. After getting dressed and fixing your hair, you left the room and found him waiting for you with a bag in his hand.
“What's that?” You approached him, already trying to take the bag from him, but he was faster and pulled it out of your reach.
“It's a surprise, you can't see it,” he said with that playful tone that left a sparkle of mystery in his eyes.
“Sam Winchester,” you said seriously and crossed your arms. “You know I'm anxious.”
“Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough.” With that, he took you by the hand and walked outside.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle. He opened the umbrella and you walked through the forest near the bunker. “It was supposed to be a picnic,” he explained, adjusting the umbrella to cover you both, “but since the weather decided to change, I improvised.”
“And the improvisation turned into...?” You tried to get him to reveal the surprise, but he didn't give in.
A few minutes later, you arrived at a clearing, the surrounding trees protecting it from the rain, keeping it partially dry. Closer to the trees was a bench. Sam sat down there and took one of your favorite books out of his bag.
You paused for a moment, blinking, unable to believe it. “You brought my book?”
Sam nodded, carefully opening the book. “Actually, this is our book now. I thought it would be worth reading the book that brought us together.”
You remember that day. It was in a library, you were sitting quietly reading when Sam arrived and sat down next to you. Before you knew it, you had been talking for hours, exchanging comments and reading recommendations.
“Do you remember?” You smiled shyly as you sat down next to him.
“Of course I remember,” he replied, looking at you with that sincere sparkle in his eyes. “It was the first little piece of you that I had.”
“You are officially the most romantic boyfriend in the world,” you couldn't help but laugh. “And hot chocolate would have made everything even better,” you joked.
With a smug smile, he took a thermos and two metal mugs out of the bag. Steam escaped into the cold air, and the sweet aroma made you smile even more.
“Okay, I take back what I said. You really thought of everything.”
Sam poured the drink, handing you the mug as he opened the book. He began to read aloud, his voice deep and calm, the sound mingling with the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves above you.
At some point, you practically lay down on him, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment.
Sam stopped reading for a moment, looked at you, and smiled. “Are you enjoying the surprise?”
“Enjoying? I'm loving it,” you replied, without opening your eyes. “I can't believe all this is for me.”
“You deserve so much more.” With one hand, he pulled you closer, while the other lifted your head. “You are the miracle of my life, you deserve everything I can give you.”
Your heart tightened a little, in the best possible way. You looked up at him and, before you could say anything, Sam leaned in slowly, his lips touching yours in a soft, warm kiss, so full of love that it seemed to make the rain stop.
“Happy birthday, love,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: You’ve never cared much about your birthdays, after years of hunting, they were just another day. But this year, everything changes with Dean. What starts as a playful, ridiculous surprise turns into a moment full of laughter and affection.
⭑.ᐟ My birthday was yesterday (oct 31), so I spent the whole week (and even managed to delay it by a day) thinking about how each of them (Sam, Dean, and Cas) would celebrate the birthday of the person they love.
⭑.ᐟsam's version / cas's version
You never cared much about your birthday.
After so many years as a hunter, living a hectic life full of surprises (mostly bad ones), this date became just like any other, a mere reminder of how things used to be.
But now that you have Dean, it's become difficult to ignore.
Earlier this week, you had a conversation that made things a little obvious.
He came up to you out of nowhere and asked, casually: “Hey, what would you like for your birthday?”
You realized it right away, how could you not? But you weren't going to make it easy for him. “I don't know, maybe you wrapped up in a red bow.”
“At your service, boss,” he replied with a crooked smile, but taking in every word, and the subject died there. Or at least that's what you thought.
The rest of the week passed normally, or as normally as the life of a hunter allows.
Dean didn't mention anything else about your birthday. No comments, no early congratulations. Not even a suspicious wink.
When the big day finally arrived, everything was... normal?
Everyone around you acting as if today was nothing special. Even Dean, whom you had placed so much hope in after the conversation you had a few days earlier.
And so it went until late afternoon.
When the bunker fell silent, you decided to go to your room. You planned to take a hot shower, watch some TV series, and maybe have a piece of pie that Sam had left in the kitchen.
But as soon as you opened the bedroom door, you got a surprise.
The lights were off, candles were everywhere, and the room smelled of cheap perfume and alcohol. Dean was on the bed wearing his usual clothes, but the difference was the red bow tied around his neck.
When he gave you a seductive smile as if he were doing the sexiest thing in the world, you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
He sat up in bed, resting his elbows behind him, with that smug smile. “Are you laughing at your present?”
You leaned against the door, laughing so hard you could barely speak. “That thing.” You pointed to the bow. “Is that my gift?”
“Of course it is, are you kidding? I went to the craft store just to buy the bow,” he replied, adjusting the red knot as if it were something worthy of the red carpet.
You staggered to the bed, weak from laughing so hard. “You're ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously perfect, you mean.” He winked, opening his arms. “So, are you going to stand there admiring me or are you going to open your present?”
You can't be hearing this. “Is this a joke?” You raised an eyebrow.
“If you pull it just right, I'll unwrap myself completely.” He smiled like a child proud of what he had done.
You laughed, covering your face with your hands. “That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”
“But you're smiling, so I think I'm doing okay.” He took your hand, pulling you closer.
“Yeah, I think you are.” Your laughter gave way to a sincere smile, like a thank you for the moment.
“Happy birthday, sweetie.” You rolled your eyes, laughing, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a light, almost playful kiss.
Dean Winchester, with his red bow tie and crooked smile, was the kind of memory that would make any birthday worthwhile.
After finding you hurt and terrified, the fear of losing you tears through him like a bullet. Back in the quiet of a motel room, anger and relief collide until Dean finally loses control of everything he’s tried to hide.
.ᐟ 𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Dean Winchester x reader | hurt / Angst
⭑.ᐟ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: takes place in the third season
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Loving Dean Winchester means fighting shadows you can’t even see
It was already night when you returned to the motel. Exhausted, you didn't even bother to take a proper shower; just standing under the hot water was enough to calm your body and mind after the difficult hunt you had finally managed to finish, or at least that's what you thought.
In the middle of the night, you woke up to the mattress moving. When you turned around, you realized it was Dean, still asleep, tossing and turning, his forehead glistening with sweat as he begged for something to stop. You immediately realized what was happening.
Dean was having a nightmare, a bad one.
He still hadn't had the courage to tell you what was going on, preferring to suffer in silence rather than be a “little girl.” You disagree, always saying that whenever he wanted to open up, you would be there for him, but you respected his decision not to talk about it.
Even though he didn't tell you, you suspect the reason for the frequent nightmares, probably because of his brother's almost death a few months ago. Everything had been resolved, you don't know exactly how, but everything is fine now, isn't it?
“Dean, wake up,” you murmured as you shook him gently.
When he woke up with wide eyes and rapid breathing, you barely gave him time to explain himself, or to try to make you forget that it happened, and you cradled him in your arms, laying his head on your chest, right on top of your heart, while stroking his hair.
Dean was still shaking, his muscles stiff as if he were ready to fight even after waking up. His breathing rasped heavily in his throat until you felt his body finally give in to your touch.
You tightened your embrace and whispered, “It's okay, I'm here with you.”
“It's not okay,” he said as he sat up in bed, further away from you, his gaze lost, as if he were still trapped in the nightmare. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up with this nonsense.”
“It's not nonsense, something's going on with you.” You moved closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, trying to make him understand. “You can tell me, Dean, anything.”
He smiled slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It was more of an automatic gesture, an attempt to shake off the weight that had escaped him for a second. “I know,” he replied simply, as if there was nothing more to say, and got up.
Before he could go any further, you grabbed him by the hand. “Where are you going?”
“I need some air,” he said curtly, not wanting to explain himself.
You know what he means by that, he's going to drink until he can't take it anymore.
That's his way, he'd rather drown himself in alcohol than open up to someone.
“Dean...” You called him again, your last attempt. “Please, just clarify something for me, it doesn't have to be everything, just... please, don't do this to yourself.”
“Just... leave me alone, okay?” His voice was hoarse, almost a plea, but the weight in it broke your heart.
You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Don't pretend nothing is going on, because I know it is. Since that incident with your brother, something has changed, and I'm worried, and I'm here. I want to be here with you, no matter what happened, but please, don't leave me in the dark." You pleaded, your eyes filling with tears, tired of always seeing your boyfriend drowning in grief all the time.
Dean took a deep breath and let go of your hand. "I can't, if I tell you... you'll look at me differently. I can't take that." Even from a distance, you can see him breaking down even more inside.
Without another word, he leaves, the sound of the door echoing through the room.
The sound of defeat.
You pulled your legs up onto the bed, hugging your knees, trying to hold back the tears. It was exhausting to love him like this, always with open arms, always trying to reach someone who refused to be reached.
You know he doesn't mean any harm. He would never hurt you. But he always hurts himself. And that's the worst sight there is, seeing someone you love prefer a bottle of beer to you.
You ran your hand over your face, wiping away the tears, and lay down on your side, hugging the pillow that still smelled like him.
In the dark room, the thought that hammered in your head was the same: I'm alone. In the dark. Lost and afraid of something I don't even know what it is. And he's comforting himself in some bar, with lots of drinks and the sight of several women.
Not sure if you’re writing for cas but i was wondering if you’d be willing to write from season 6 episode 10 i think when cas kisses meg. When it happens he does it in front of reader and it makes her jealous and she ignores him and he’s wondering why she’s ignoring him until dean or Sam (not literally) slaps some sense into him, then cas is somewhat amused by her being jealous because hes confused that she cant see how much he likes her. You can choose how it ends, i just watched this episode and now the idea is bugging me
₊˚⊹𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 ₊˚⊹
.ᐟ 𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Castiel Novak x Reader |
⭑.ᐟ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: angel!user, jealousy, fem!reader
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Drawn to Castiel, you struggle when he impulsively kisses a demon, igniting feelings angels shouldn’t have. Amid jealousy, confusion, and growing love, both must navigate emotions forbidden by Heaven and discover the courage to choose each other.
You don't remember when Heaven became so depressing.
God created everyone to be a family, everything would be fine if they obeyed the higher orders.
But God is gone, and everything is chaos.
Angels fighting for heavenly control, everything so rigid, full of “right” and “wrong” that you could hardly remember how things used to be, how the rules seemed simple and straightforward and you never questioned them.
When you ran away to Earth to try to save humans from the Apocalypse, you met Castiel, who had the same purpose. Unlike the others, he listened, he cared.
And wow, how that made things easier.
Two angels who understood nothing about humanity began to understand the world, and especially themselves.
What you didn't expect was this feeling that grew inside you like a fire that never goes out and warms your whole interior that had frozen with despair.
You tried to ignore it. Angels don't love. At least, they shouldn't.
Until you reached your limit.
He kissed a woman.
Meg.
A demon.
Right in front of you.
And he even made a reference to what you would later discover to be pornography.
What?! Are you serious? Like, I'm right here by your side, and you chose her?
A new feeling fills you, instead of the fire that illuminates you, came the flame that burns you completely and leaves you in ashes. You don't understand, what the hell is happening to you? You shouldn't feel this, none of this, so why can't you make it go away?
...
When he first saw her, he didn't understand how she was different from other angels, nor why she wanted to save humans from destruction.
But after spending some time with her, he realized everything. She talked about humans with a sparkle in her eyes, seeing not only their weaknesses, but all the qualities she could see.
He also noticed how she frowned when reading a book, how she tried to laugh whenever someone made a joke, even if she didn't understand what was being said. He didn't understand it either, but he would tell her all the jokes he could find to see her laugh again.
He doesn't understand this feeling, it's new and unique.
With that thought in mind, along with memories of Dean advising him to have carnal acts with women for fun, he thought, “Maybe that will make this thing inside me go away.”
So he seized the opportunity. Meg was flirting right in front of him, so why not?
The kiss was quick, and from Meg's expression, it must have been good, but when he looked back and saw her, the tension in her posture, her gaze fixed on the floor, not daring to look at him, something inside him trembled.
He hadn't planned to hurt her, but he didn't understand the depth of his feelings until that moment.
Days passed and she didn't approach me for anything at all, and I started to get worried because I didn't understand why all this was happening and decided to ask for help.
Cas walked through the banker looking for Sam, his footsteps heavy, the silence echoing inside his own mind.
He didn't understand. He had always known how to deal with orders, missions, battles, but not this. Not the emptiness she left behind. Not the tightness he felt when he realized that he might have broken something between them.
Finally, he found Sam in the library, leafing through some books on runes and protection.
“Sam, I need help,” Cas began, his voice low, almost hesitant. “She... doesn't interact with me, avoids being around me. Do you have any idea why?”
Sam looked up, hesitated for a moment, and then sighed.
“Cas... you really didn't notice?” he said calmly. “She's hurt. Jealous.”
“Jealous?” Castiel frowned, trying to process the idea. “Because of Meg?”
“Of course, you kissed another woman in front of her.”
“But I don't feel anything for Meg,” he tried to defend himself. Besides, it was the truth; he felt nothing for the demon.
“I know, but she doesn't know that.” Sam approached him, his expression serious but patient. “Cas, she likes you, and seeing you kiss Meg made her feel worthless. She doesn’t understand the reason behind the gesture, and what she feels now is intense because she truly cares.”
“She cares? You really think so?” he repeated slowly, as if the word could be digested slowly.
“Of course, and she doesn't know how to deal with it, and it seems like you don't either,” Sam replied firmly.
As if a light had entered the angel's head, his gaze softened, and a whole plan for how to ask for forgiveness formed in his mind. “Thank you, Sam, your guidance has been very helpful.” And with that, he went out to look for her with one certainty: he needed to find her. He needed to understand, he needed to explain. And more than that... he needed to feel with her, because this was the first time he was sure he felt love.
…
You were sitting on the bed in your room, trying to learn how to use an electronic device called a cell phone. You had recently discovered that you could listen to music whenever you wanted, and you loved human music.
Maybe that would distract you from him.
Just remembering that made you feel a lump in your throat, a feeling you were unfortunately getting used to.
When you finally managed to get the cell phone to play a sound, Castiel entered the room. “Can we talk?” he asked in a calm voice, but one laden with something that sounded like guilt and regret, or maybe it was just your expectations speaking louder.
You didn't answer right away, just waited, frowning, trying to size up your own emotions.
“I know you're hurt, and I give you every reason to be. I screwed up.” He continued, taking a few steps toward you. “But I want you to know that I felt nothing with that kiss. In fact, I did it trying to mask my own emotions that I can't control, but I've decided to stop holding back. So please, please forgive me.”
“You don't understand, Cas...” you began, your voice low, almost a whisper. “It's not just about the kiss, it's about everything. You did it without even hesitating, and left me feeling like a mere spectator. I have these feelings... I'm not sure what they are, but I know I shouldn't feel them, but still... they won't go away, and I don't know what to do.”
Your outburst is interrupted by Castiel's warm lips touching yours. The touch was soft, careful, almost reverent, as if he were afraid of breaking her, but at the same time, there was firmness, determination, a silent promise that he was there for her, for no one else.
You froze for a moment, surprised, unable to react immediately. Your heart was pounding, almost painfully, as if you were finally hearing something you had always wanted to hear: reciprocity.
And when your lips finally moved, it was an explosion of sensations you had never felt before. It wasn't just a kiss of desire or curiosity, it was affection mixed with regret and a silent understanding that you were both feeling something that even Heaven couldn't deny.
When you finally separated, you couldn't hold back a smile, which was soon reciprocated by Castiel.
“I don't know what I feel,” you mustered the courage to say, “but I don't want this to go away.”
Cas rested his forehead against yours, holding you tightly, not wanting to let you go. “I don't understand all of this yet either, but we'll figure it out together. In our own time.”
The fire that had once burned to ashes now illuminated, warmed, and could not be extinguished.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
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⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Thank you very much for the request!! I hope it is good enough and has met your expectations.
Researching lore in a quiet library is supposed to be serious work—at least, that’s what you keep telling Sam. But when he slips you a note with five little words that make your heart race, the case suddenly feels far less important.
I was thinking about writing some Dean x Reader/Sam x Reader one-shots, like, what it would be like for them to celebrate 20 years of hunting, but then I remembered, they're dead, both of them and everyone else, so how would they celebrate anything? 😭😭😭
But if you have any ideas for a one-shot/bot to celebrate this special date, or anything else, you can go here
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: When the supernatural world falls quiet, you find a new way to amuse yourself: by testing your gothic makeup skills on your sleppy boyfriend
Sometimes life was tedious, especially when nothing happened in the supernatural world, and sometimes you were lucky enough to have a boyfriend to annoy, and if you were really lucky, you would have makeup by your side and your boyfriend sleeping on the couch.
Today is one of those days.
You find yourself kneeling on the floor, trying your best not to laugh. Dean is sleeping peacefully, unaware of the extra layer on his skin. You decided to try some gothic makeup on him, including false eyelashes, eyeliner, eyeshadow, and purple lipstick. As soon as you finished, you got up to admire your masterpiece. “Perfect.” you whispered with a smile as you grabbed your phone and took a picture.
When you realized it, one of the false eyelashes fell near his nose, waking him up. Before he could see you, you ran to your room laughing and locked yourself inside.
Dean got up slowly, still sleepy, and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up, when he felt the remaining false eyelash. “Oh no...” He muttered and ran to the bathroom mirror. “I'm a painted whore...” He said as he ran his hand over his face, feeling all the makeup to see if it was real.
From the bedroom, you stifled your laughter with your hand, listening to Dean's heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.
He almost broke down the bedroom door and stopped in front of you. “Are you serious?”
You couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing. “But honey, it looks beautiful!”
“Beautiful? I'm a respected hunter, not a 15-year-old emo kid.” Dean snorted and crossed his arms.
“Not emo, goth.” you corrected him.
“Since when does that matter to you?” he retorted indignantly.
“Since forever. If we had a normal life, with time to take care of myself, I'd be goth.”
Dean let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Jesus Christ... I'm dating a secret goth.”
“Exactly” you said, crossing your arms to imitate him, but with a victorious smile.
He walked over to you, resting one hand on your waist and pulling you close. “Let me get this straight, you put makeup on me, run around like a crazy person, and still have the nerve to say it's because you're goth?”
“Yes, and I took pictures too.” You held your phone up in front of him. “It's all recorded, love.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Delete it.”
“No.” You laughed, putting your phone in your pants pocket.
“One...” He began to count. “Two...”
“I'm not giving you my phone.”
Without giving you a chance to think, he threw you on the bed, climbed on top of you, and started tickling you, making you laugh desperately as you tried to escape. “Dean! Stop it!”
“Only if you give me your phone.” He gave a crooked smile, loving to see you laugh.
“Never!” you replied breathlessly, squirming.
“All right. Then I'll have to... confiscate it another way.” Suddenly, he stopped tickling you and brought his face close to yours, so close that you could feel his hot breath against your mouth.
Before you could respond, his lips took yours by surprise. The kiss started intense, urgent, as if Dean was proving a point.
You gave in without thinking twice, and the kiss became desperate. You grabbed his shirt, and he grabbed your hair, tilting your head to the side to better fit his mouth to yours, and the taste of purple lipstick mixed with his flavor was as unusual as it was addictive.
When he finally pulled away, just enough to breathe, Dean kept his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes half-closed, staring at your mouth, now smudged with lipstick. “Now we match.”
You pulled him onto the bed, making him lie down beside you, and laughed. “You were born for this makeup.”
Dean snorted, but couldn't hide his smile. “If you show this picture to Sam, I swear I'll tie you to the Impala.”
“I'll think about it.” You leaned closer to him, giving him a quick kiss and then pulling away.
As if he couldn't control himself, he pulled you back to him, scattering kisses all over your face, leaving purple marks. “I think I'm dating a photo maniac.”
You lifted your face to look him straight in the eyes and replied with complete certainty: “And you love every second of it.”
“Hell yeah” he murmured before kissing you again, now more calmly and affectionately, taking advantage of every second to explore every corner of your mouth. Even though he already knows them all.
⭑.ᐟ I'll write the context of each photo, from left to right, from the top row to the bottom
✮⋆˙ you were in Bobby's junkyard, Sam was helping Dean to fix baby. Your job was to sit there and look pretty, so in a moment of distraction you took this picture. Sam, of course, complained, but Dean burst out laughing.
✮⋆˙ Whenever you're lucky enough to get a day off, Sam takes you for a walk in a park. On this particular day, he took you to a park known for its variety of birds. Knowing this, you brought a camera. While Sam took pictures of the birds, you took pictures of him. When he noticed, he approached you smiling, took the camera from your hand, and then gave you a peck on the lips.
"We're here to take pictures of the birds, not me. You need to improve your focus, love."
✮⋆˙ Sam and Dean were on a hunt while you stayed with Bobby to do research when the boys needed information. You were in the kitchen, cooking something healthy to eat (a miracle), when you received a text from Sam. You thought it was about the hunt, so you stopped everything you were doing to see what it was, but when you opened it, it was Sam with a dog you'd never seen in your life. In the caption, he wrote: "I found this lost guy, I'm going to take care of him until we find him a home." You found yourself smiling, trying not to ask to keep him. Life is too hard to have a dog.
✮⋆˙ You went on a hunt with the brothers. In the middle of the chase, you decided to take a picture of them as a souvenir, but you forgot the flash was on.
✮⋆˙ Sam was questioning a witness to a brutal murder, a case for both of you. He was inside a room with the person and you were outside, making sure no one went in and saw Sam asking strange questions, to say the least. When you looked through the gap in the window, you couldn't resist. You grabbed your camera and took the photo, this one will have a special place in the album.
✮⋆˙ While hunting, you and Sam had to look after a child who had lost his parents. Because you were disguised as federal agents, the police had the confidence to leave her with you. One late afternoon, you were distracting the child while Sam tried to find something decent to eat. As soon as he entered the room, he saw the little child with your camera in his hands who had taken a picture of him. You and the child burst out laughing. Sam looked at the two of you, as if he were looking at the future he could never have.
✮⋆˙ Sam was distressed, researching like crazy to find out how to kill a monster you'd never seen before. It was almost dawn and you were tired, so you put the books aside and took a picture of him. He looked at you slightly annoyed
“Keep your focus on the books.”
✮⋆˙ [Continued from previous photo]
This was the photo you took as soon as you asked him to cuddle you in bed and go to sleep for the hundredth time. Yes, he couldn't resist and went to bed with you
✮⋆˙ You found him smiling as he slept on top of his study books and took this photo. To this day you insist on him telling you, but he won't. You have your suspicions.
⭑.ᐟ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fem!reader, reader is Bobby's daughter
⭑.ᐟ 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: In the quiet corners of a junkyard, stolen moments between you and Dean ignite into something more than just a kiss. As passion flares beside the Impala, a sudden interruption from Bobby Singer reminds you both of the risks of secrecy.
⭑.ᐟ𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
You and Dean had been together for some time, but you hadn't made it official or told anyone. Only Sam knows because he ended up seeing a rather... awkward moment. (He still wants to kill you both to this day.)
Dean wasn't the dream boyfriend that parents had for their daughters, especially when the father in question was Bobby Singer, who considered him a son. But what could Dean do? You're irresistible.
On one of their rare days off, each of them enjoys themselves as they please. Sam reads or watches a movie on his laptop, Dean fixes his baby, Bobby gets drunk, and you try to make him forget his alcohol addiction by listening to music with him or watching a series. He won't admit it, but he loves watching reality shows and cursing at all of the participants.
Today was no different. Your father fell asleep watching TV, so you settled him on the couch and put a blanket over him.
It was the perfect moment.
You left quietly, without waking him, and went to the parking lot where you knew Dean was.
There he was, sweaty and covered in grease under the baby, a sight that would be enough to make anyone sigh, but you had something more, you're his girlfriend, even if it's a secret.
“Always working, aren't you, Winchester?” you said with a smile, approaching the Impala.
Dean came out from under the car and looked at you, still sitting on the ground. “She needs a lot of care, just like certain people.”
“Certain people? Are you comparing me to a car?” You crossed your arms, feigning disapproval.
He stood up, facing you. “No, you definitely need more attention than she does.” He lowered his voice, now almost whispering. “But between us, she gets jealous.”
You smiled and took a few steps back, just to tease him, and he immediately pulled you by the waist, smearing grease on your clothes without the slightest remorse.
“Dean! My dad is sleeping, what if he wakes up?” You said as you looked around.
“You know how the old man is when he sleeps, only a bomb dropping here would wake him up” he murmured close to your mouth, causing your self-control to vanish almost immediately.
He kissed you, slowly at first, but soon more intensely, in that way that made the world around you disappear. You almost forgot the danger of being there, in the middle of the junkyard, completely at risk of being caught.
That's when a voice rang out, laden with irony: “Seriously, don't you two have any shame?”
You quickly pulled apart, thinking it was Bobby, but it was just Sam judging you with his arms crossed, staring as if he were watching a natural disaster live.
Dean sighed, “Come on, Sam, give us a break.”
“Don't even go there. Are you guys doing this on purpose to unsettle me? Because you're succeeding. I still have nightmares about that time in the motel hallway.”
“You're the one who always shows up. Is that your kink or what?” You replied sarcastically, trying not to laugh.
Sam snorted and gave up talking about it. “No, I... look, I just came to tell you that I think I found a case.”
Dean didn't let him continue, cutting him off immediately. “No way, no cases today.”
Sam rolled his eyes and left without saying a word.
“I'll look into it with you” you shouted after him.
Sam just nodded and went inside the house.
A few seconds later, Dean pulled you close again, with a smile on his lips. “Well, where were we?”
You smiled broadly, holding him by the back of his neck. “I don't remember very well, can you remind me?”
“I can do that” he murmured before kissing you again, slowly and deeply, consuming you little by little, his hot breath mixing with yours, that taste of beer and mint contaminating your mouth. With one hand he squeezes your waist and with the other on the back of your neck he tilts your head to completely control the kiss.
“You have no idea what you do to me...” he whispered, before kissing you again, leaning you against the side of the car, pressing you against him.
The kiss grew more intense, reflecting the desperation they felt to have each other. You clung to Dean's shirt, feeling his body pressed against yours.
“Damn woman” he sighed against your mouth, unable to contain himself any longer. “You're going to kill me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, sliding his lips down your neck.
You laughed softly, pulling him by the nape of his neck and restarting the kiss, and soon Dean opened the back door of baby, guiding you inside as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You fell into the back seat, and he positioned himself right above you, resting one hand beside your head. The smell of leather from the car mixed with his made everything even more intoxicating. Dean kissed your mouth again, then your jaw, moving down to the exact spot that took your breath away.
“I don't think doing this here is a good idea” you protested, but you did nothing to stop him, though it wasn't your fault—his mouth didn't help.
“It's the best idea I've ever had,” Dean replied with that cheeky smile, while his hands ventured under your shirt, going straight for the bra, preparing to unhook it. Until a voice echoed from outside, deep and angry: “Are you guys shitting with me?!”
You both moved away at the same time, almost falling onto the bench. Dean closed his eyes with a sigh of pure despair, while you widened your eyes.
You pulled away at the same moment, almost falling onto the seat. Dean closed his eyes with a sigh of pure despair, while you widened your eyes.
Bobby was outside, arms crossed and looking very unhappy.
You hurried out of the car, adjusting your clothes. Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to cover it up with his classic half-smile. “Hey, Bobby, I can explain.”
“Explain?!” He lunged forward like thunder, but restrained himself from hitting Dean, for now just grabbing him by the shirt. “You were... I don't even want to imagine, on my property, practically in my house, and you want to explain?”
“Dad, please, I like him, and it's not just now.” You tried to explain, but your father looked at you as if you were crazy, and maybe you were. “Are we talking about the same person? This is Dean Winchester. You don't introduce him to your father expecting a blessing, but a grave.”
“Bobby…” Dean finally managed to speak, his voice steady despite the fear stamped on his face. “You have every right to want to kill me right now. But don't ask me to lie. I love her.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Neither you nor your father expected to hear that from him.
“Love?” Bobby repeated sarcastically. “Do you know what it means to love someone? Do you know what happens to everything you touch, kid? It turns to ashes!”
“I know, but I'd rather die than let anything happen to her. I promise.”
Bobby's eyes wavered for a second. His grip on Dean's collar loosened, but he didn't let go completely. He looked from Dean to you, and from you back to Dean. “I'll let it go for now, but if I see anything, anything at all, that I don't like, it's over, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Dean nodded, serious, not daring to joke.
You and Dean stood in the same spot for a few seconds after Bobby went back into the house, the silence heavy as lead.
Dean ran his hand over his face, trying to catch his breath, but his eyes immediately went straight to you. He didn't have that typical smile, nor the pose of someone who always knows what to do. He was serious, as if every word he had just uttered still echoed in his head.
“You... really said that?” Your voice came out almost in a whisper, afraid to break that fragile moment.
He gave a nervous half-smile, the one he used when he felt too vulnerable. “I did. And I didn't just say it.” He took a step toward you, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. “I love you. I didn't want it to be like this, with your father wanting to bury me alive... but I couldn't hide it anymore.”
You approached him, still not believing what you were hearing, the way he said it, simple, direct, without masks... he didn't seem like the Dean everyone knew, but he was exactly the Dean you loved. “You know there's no turning back now, right? My dad is going to watch you more closely than a security camera.”
Dean laughed softly, that hoarse laugh, and shook his head. "I don't care. It's worth it.“ He reached out his hand, and when you took it, he brought it to his lips, planting a slow kiss, nothing like the rush before. ”I just want you to know... I'm not letting you go for anything" he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss, now calm, sweet, completely different from what it had been minutes ago in the back seat of the Impala.
You felt the world stop. The junkyard, the smell of oil, Bobby's scolding, everything was gone. All that was left was you and Dean, finally with nothing to hide.