One Pulchra x Reader request please. It’s known that she enjoys her games. Did this elsewhere months ago but I think they went inactive. So the reader likes Pulchra but for one reason or another every attempt fail. Either it goes over her head or something happens. Burnice hatches an idea to help you by making her jealous by making Pulchra think she’s going after you.
You Only Notice What You Might Lose
Summary: You’ve been trying to win over Pulchra for weeks—but every attempt to get closer either falls flat or gets lost in translation. Cool, calculating, and frustratingly unreadable, she never seems to notice your feelings... or care. But when Burnice hatches a reckless scheme to make her jealous, the “Hidden Claw” starts showing signs of something deeper than disinterest. Maybe, just maybe, the winner isn't the only one keeping score.
Tags: Pulchra x Reader, Slow Burn, Jealousy Shenanigans, Emotional Walls, Burnice is the Best Wingwoman (Argue with the wall if you disagree), Hidden Feelings, Fake Flirting, Confession, Slight Angst, Mostly Fluff, Romance, Banter & Sarcasm.
"Hey Pulchra," you said, leaning against the edge of her desk at Leaps and Bounds. She didn’t look up from her handheld console, thumbs flying across the buttons with the precision of a killer drone strike.
"Mm?"
"I was thinking... maybe we could grab some drinks after your shift? Just the two of us. You know. Unwind."
She paused.
Hope flared in your chest—until she scoffed.
"Bold of you to assume I ever wind down," she replied coolly, eyes still locked on the game. "Besides, this boss is a nightmare. I’m not leaving until she’s pixel-dust."
You chuckled awkwardly, masking the twinge of disappointment with a nod. “Right. Yeah. Totally understand.”
Strike seven. Or was it eight? You were losing count. Every attempt you made to get closer to Pulchra either flew over her head or was casually deflected like a rocket pinging off armor plating. Part of you wondered if she was just ignoring the obvious. The other part figured she knew—and simply didn’t care.
That night, you vented your frustrations to Burnice over a suspiciously glowing soda. The eccentric woman lounged upside-down on her couch, head hanging off the edge like a gargoyle in pajamas.
"You’re tellin’ me," she said, her voice lilting with amusement, "you’ve tried jokes, compliments, even that sketchy imported chocolate, and she still hasn’t picked up on your crush?"
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Either she’s the densest Thiren alive or she’s just not interested."
Burnice flipped right-side-up, eyes glinting. “Or… she’s the kind of girl who only notices what she’s scared of losing.”
You looked up, wary. "...What are you planning?"
She gave a devilish grin. "Oh, nothing big. Just... a performance. Trust me."
The next day started like any other.
Pulchra was at her usual spot in the warehouse office, mask on, tail swaying lazily behind her as she hacked a drone manifest. You walked in, greeted her with a small wave—and then Burnice materialized beside you like she’d teleported.
She looped an arm around your shoulder. "There you are, sugarplum~"
Pulchra's ears twitched.
You blinked. "...Sugarplum?"
Burnice winked, then leaned in closer. “Hope I’m not interrupting. Just wanted to steal them for lunch. Alone. You don’t mind, do you, Pulchy?”
Pulchra didn’t look up.
But the pause in her typing was long.
“…Why would I mind?” she said, voice flat.
"Oh, I dunno." Burnice dragged the words out, toying with a lock of your hair. "Just thought maybe someone’d notice they’re worth noticing."
Pulchra’s hands clenched slightly. The keyboard cracked under her fingers.
Burnice grinned wider.
It went on for days. Burnice would dote on you in front of Pulchra—light touches, dramatic winks, fake little giggles that somehow sounded entirely sincere. You’d never heard Pulchra speak less.
You were starting to feel bad. You didn’t want to make her angry. You just… wanted her to see you. Really see you.
And then, one night, everything snapped.
You were on a delivery run, loading up crates with Pulchra. The air was unusually quiet. You could hear her breathing through her mask, the faint rasp of it unsettling in the stillness.
“You and Burnice,” she said suddenly. “How serious is it?”
You blinked. “What?”
She looked at you then. Full-on. No mask of sarcasm, no playful aloofness. Just narrowed green eyes, focused and sharp.
“She flirts with everyone, sure. But you’ve been… responding.”
You felt your heart race. "Wait, are you jealous?"
Her expression didn’t change, but her tail flicked sharply.
"I'm curious," she said carefully. "I make it a point to monitor things that affect team morale."
You laughed once—soft, incredulous. "I’ve been trying to ask you out for a month. Burnice just noticed I was failing and tried to help."
Pulchra stared. “...What?”
You took a step closer. “I like you. Always have. But every time I tried, you brushed me off.”
“I didn’t—” She hesitated. Looked away. “I didn’t think you meant it. People flirt. It's what they do.”
“Yeah,” you said. “But I don’t flirt with just anyone. Only the winner.”
Silence.
Then, slowly, she reached up—fingers ghosting to her mask.
You rarely saw her without it. But tonight, she pulled it down, just to her chin. Her face was softer than you'd imagined. Still guarded, but… human.
“...Drinks after this?” she asked, voice low.
You smiled. “Absolutely.”
Pulchra turned away before you could see it, but her tail curled at the end—just slightly.
From behind a stack of crates, Burnice gave a silent fist pump.
I've been trying to find an atyd version of a drarry ship on ao3 and I CANT FIND ONE I'm about 2 seconds away from rewriting the whole series but make it drarry and also better bc fuck jkr so can someone please give me fic recs I don't have time to rewrite a 7 serk series also sorry for the bad punctuation
Details: Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Jealous Ilya Rozanov, Angry Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike Is Pissing Ilya Rozanov Off, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Ilya Rozanov, Not Beta Read, Established Relationship, Established Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Fake Flirting.
Summary:
Hayden fake-flirts with Shane the way he always does: dramatically, shamelessly, and with zero actual intent other than to wholeheartedly piss off Ilya Rozanov
And Ilya, unfortunately, has never once in his life been chill.
My sixth entry for the DeanCas #SPNStayAtHome event hosted by @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen :)
Also posted on ao3 if anyone is interested in reading it there!
Tag List: @baby-in-a-trenchcoat7, @scamp-00, @pizzamanhedelivers, @deanscastiel79
PS- my tag list is starting to grow and I’m so excited. If you’re enjoying my writing and want to see more and you’d like to be tagged in any of my future destiel fics, please message me or comment and let me know! I’ll be happy to tag you in future fics!
Monday 6: Jealous
Push the Button (If You’re Ready for Me)
Maybe Cas was just a little bit sick of waiting for Dean to make a move. It had been years. Maybe at first, Cas had hid his attraction. He was an angel. It wasn’t acceptable for an angel to fall for a human. But Dean was… well. Dean was Dean. From the moment Cas had laid eyes on Dean in hell, there had been an indescribable feeling; a bond tethering them together in ways Cas couldn’t even begin to formulate.
And so he waited. He waited the first few months out. But it had only taken a few days for Castiel to become Cas in Dean’s eyes. And maybe Cas could barely keep his eyes off the hunter. He was alluring and snarky and tempting and attractive. So very attractive.
It wasn’t like Cas was being subtle throughout the months. Time after time of being in Dean’s personal space. Of glancing down at Dean’s lips and licking his own. Of touching Dean‘s arms or brushing their hands together. Of watching over Dean and being at his beck and call.
Months blurred into years. But the harder Cas tried to flirt and show an attraction, the harder Dean tampered down his own feelings. Even though Cas knew Dean wanted him back. All the signs were there.
The way Dean checked him out, eyes lingering on Cas’ lips before their gazes locked. The way Dean leaned into his space, always reaching out to touch the angel in reassurance. The way his first thought was to call out to Cas, no matter the situation they were in. How he offered to make Cas something to eat or to watch movies together when Sam had gone to bed and it was just the two of them awake in the bunker.
Years turned into a decade. Cas wasn’t sure how much clearer he had to make it. He was getting tired of waiting for Dean to make a move.
Really, it wasn’t Cas’ fault. He’d just been on the computer when his eyes caught the cover of a trashy magazine Dean had picked up on the way back to the bunker the other day. Something about the attractive female celebrity on the front cover had been Dean’s excuse to buy the tabloid magazine.
But it wasn’t the half-naked woman on the cover that had caught Cas’ eye. It was the bold print down the side. How to catch your crushes attention if they just aren’t getting the hint that you’re interested.
And, at 2:30am, Cas decided what the hell. He picked up the magazine and skimmed the article. One magazine article led to one Google search, which led to 17 pages of Googling, an article on wikiHow, 20 YouTube videos, 3 online pop culture websites, a Twitter debate, a mom blogger explaining how to make the best banana bread in the country, and one rather devious last ditch attempt plan to get Dean Winchester to man the hell up and make a move.
~
Two days later, they were back on the road again. After a night in the local motel where little progress was made on the case and a total of two hours of sleep had occurred between the three of them, Dean had threatened shaving cream on Sam’s toothbrush if they didn’t stop at the nearest diner for breakfast and a minimum of six cups of coffee.
They’d piled into a booth near the back of the diner; Dean and Sam sitting on one side and Cas sitting on the other. Cas’ eyes had been on the menu, the plan from a couple nights ago at the back of his mind as he determined if he wanted to try eggs sunny side up or over easy. Everything came rushing back though when the opportunity of a lifetime landed into Cas’ lap.
“Good morning. My name is Chaz and I’ll be your waiter this morning. What can I get started for you today?” a honey-smooth voice asked.
“Two coffees and whatever they’re having,” Dean grumbled, clearly not in the mood to deal with the waiter’s peppy attitude.
“Excuse him. Long night at work. I’ll have a coffee, too,” Sam said, throwing Dean a withering look.
“And what about you?” the waiter said, turning his attention to Cas. Cas finally lowered his menu, looking over at the waiter for the first time. The man looked about Sam’s age, with dark chocolate eyes and golden brown hair. He had full lips spread into an easy smile, and his bangs were brushed to the side, covering half of his forehead.
The waiter's eyes flew open, locking with Cas’ and a little surprised look crossed his face. “Anything I can get for you, handsome?”
Automatically, Cas opened his mouth to turn down the waiter’s initial flirtation, but then Cas remembered his plan and he smirked. Dean was already in a bad mood. If he wanted to make Dean jealous, now was the perfect time. Cas tilted his head slightly, throwing on the innocent look he knew usually caught Dean’s attention. “Coffee for me too, good looking,” Cas said, letting his already deep voice pitch down another octave. He darted his eyes over the waiter, flashing him a grin and leaning forwards slightly in the booth. “I wouldn’t mind you telling me what’s good in here. Well, besides you.”
Across the table, Dean choked, a deep growl bubbling up in his throat. A warning. A threatening noise Cas had never heard Dean direct his way before. It sent a thrill down the angel’s spine. Cas ignored him, keeping his eyes on Chaz.
“How about I surprise you?” Chaz replied smoothly. “I’ll be right back with those coffees.” Turning, Chaz flashed Cas a wink before disappearing off towards the swinging double doors into the kitchen.
The table lapsed into silence for a second before there was a loud clatter as Dean knocked his knife to the floor as he snatched his napkin from the table. He tore the thin material, swearing under his breath before snatching Sam’s napkin and knife before the younger Winchester could complain. “What was that about?” Dean asked, his tone tight and clipped.
Cas shrugged, playing it off. “What was what about?”
Sam snorted as he reached over and grabbed the spare napkin and silverware set next to Cas. “You're flirting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show an interest in someone.”
Cas shrugged again, playing coy. “Not sure what you’re talking about. You’re both tired and need to get some rest. Or at least several cups of caffeine.”
He glanced over at Dean, who was shooting daggers at him from across the table. His left eye was twitching, and a slight tremor was running through his right hand. Inwardly, Cas smirked. He cocked his head to the side slightly, throwing on the innocent look again. “What?” he asked Dean.
“Nothing,” Dean hissed, dropping his head into his hands and closing his eyes. He tugged at his hair, grumbling lowly under his breath and letting out harsh breaths through his nose.
Cas frowned. Dean giving up. That definitely wasn’t an option. He had to ramp it up if he wanted Dean to snap and make a move.
When the waiter came back with 4 steaming mugs of coffee, he placed the first one in front of Cas, leaning slightly into the angel’s space before placing a mug in front of Sam and the other two in front of Dean. “What can I get you fellas to eat?”
“Just eggs and toast for me, please,” Sam said, handing his menu to Chaz with a kind smile.
“Pancakes and a side of bacon,” Dean said, his tone curt as he shoved his menu across the table towards the waiter without moving his eyes away from the cup of coffee in front of him.
Sam rolled his eyes, apologizing again for Dean’s behavior.
“And something special for you, of course,” Chaz said, turning his attention back to Cas. “Unless there’s something else you want?”
Cas smirked, letting his eyes wander slowly up and down the man in front of him. “Actually, yes, there is. You can give me your number,” Cas said, licking his lips and letting his eyes settle on Chaz’s mouth for a few long seconds.
Chaz immediately grinned, tearing off the next ticket sheet in his notepad and scribbling something down. “I’m off at 6 tonight. Unless you have other plans?” he asked, offering the paper to Cas.
Cas reached out and took it, letting their fingers brush as he took the paper, which he noted really did have a number and a winking smiley face for good measure.
“He’s busy. Got a case we’re working on and all, you know, since we’re FBI,” Dean snarled, breaking the moment.
Cas darted his eyes over to Dean, raising an eyebrow. The hunter was almost vibrating with waves of jealousy, his eyes flashing bright green in the fluorescent light. There was a slight twitch, as if Dean was just itching to reach out for his gun for good measure. Cas shivered involuntarily. God, Dean really was hot when he was jealous.
Chaz cleared his throat. “Just call me when you get a night off.” He darted his eyes over Cas again, a smirk settling on his lips. “I’ll be back with your order real soon.” The last two words came out in a sultry tone as his eyes locked with Cas’.
Cas grinned, briefly biting as his lower lip and letting his eyes flutter slightly. Just as he expected, the waiter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Cas and walking away with a sway to his step.
As soon as the waiter was out of ear-shot, Dean kicked him harshly under the table. “What the hell, Cas?” he snarled, eyes alight with jealousy. The hunter looked poised and ready to attack, as if the waiter was a vampire and Dean was milliseconds away from lopping his head off.
“I told you, Dean, I have no sexual preference when it comes to a partner. And I happen to find him extremely attractive.”
“We’re a little busy for you to be shacking up with the waiter. Vampire case, remember? Or had that slipped your mind?”
“You manage to find time to go to strip clubs and hook up with women. What’s wrong with me showing an interest in someone?”
Dean snarled, the noise seeming to echo around the booth. The hunter’s back was ramrod straight, as if every single muscle in his body was taunt and ready for a fight. The tremors were now radiating from Dean’s right hand all the way up his arm, his shoulders tightly hunched. “That’s completely different.”
“Dude, Cas has a point. He has every right to do whatever he wants with whoever he wants,” Sam pointed out.
“Who’s side are you on?” Dean asked, rounding on his brother, throwing the full force of his angry glare at Sam.
Sam put his hands up in defeat, reaching out to grab his coffee in order to avoid answering Dean’s question.
“Your opinion is irrelevant,” Cas said with a shrug, leaning back into the booth. “He’s attractive, he flirted with me first, and I wouldn’t mind if he, as you so put it, banged me into next week.”
Sam, who had been quietly drinking his coffee, let out a startled noise and instantly choked on the hot drink, gasping as the liquid went down the wrong pipe. Dean leaned over, automatically thumping Sam on the back, but his eyes were firmly locked on Cas.
“Seriously? Fucking seriously?” he seethed, eyes narrowing as he glared at Cas. Sam shoved Dean’s arm away, and Dean balled his hands into fists. A dark red flush was creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks, and his breathing was fast and erratic. Dean was bouncing his leg so violently it caused the table to shake with his rage.
Cas shrugged, picking up his fork and twirling it around in his fingers. “You’ve always said getting laid helped you to focus on the case and to blow off the extra steam. I thought I might give it a go,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the silver fork in his hand.
“Oh, right, because some random waiter just calls you handsome and you’re ready to bend over for him?” Dean snapped, voice sharp and biting in the small space across the table.
“Dean,” Sam said, his tone strained from his choking fit.
“My preferences are not your concern, Dean. Last time I checked, you don’t get a say in who I decide to flirt with,” Cas said, looking up and locking eyes with Dean.
Dean slammed his hand down on the table. The silverware clinked and rattled, and the coffee from one of his untouched mugs sloshed onto the table. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it right in front of me.”
Sam leaned over, elbowing Dean in the side. Hard. Cas took the distraction to slowly pull his phone out of his trenchcoat; making a show of saving the number to his phone.
“Fuck this,” Dean hissed under his breath as he loudly grabbed one of the mugs of coffee, his grip so tight on the ceramic that his knuckles turned white.
Sam elbowed Dean again, this time hard enough in the ribs that Dean was forced to look at him. ‘Make a fucking move, Dean,’ Sam mouthed, nodding his head towards Cas, who was engrossed on his phone.
Dean scowled, shoving Sam away. “I’m not into Cas,” he muttered lowly so only Sam could hear.
Sam rolled his eyes, shooting Dean a sharp look. “Seriously, Dean? Even I know you are. Make a move before you lose him,” Sam hissed under his breath.
“I’m not going to-” Dean was interrupted as the waiter returned, 3 plates in his hands.
“Eggs and toast for you,” Chaz said, putting a plate down in front of Sam. “Pancakes and bacon and an extra mug of coffee for you,” he said, placing Dean’s plate and another cup in front of him. “And waffles with strawberries and cream for you. On the house, of course,” Chaz said, winking at Cas as he slid the plate of waffles in front of him.
Cas smiled brightly at the waiter, reaching out and brushing their hands together as Chaz put the plate in front of him. “Thank you. Although I was more hoping for a free date on the house,” he said, cocking his head to the side and going for his best sultry look.
“That can be arranged,” Chaz said, leaning back into Cas space.
“Right in front of my fucking pancakes,” Dean seethed under his breath loud enough for Cas to hear, his tone like sharp knives tipping end over end and hurtling towards Cas and Chaz.
Clearing his throat, Cas pulled back away from the waiter, biting at his lip instead. “I’m Cas, by the way.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cas.”
“Oh trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” Cas replied, letting his voice drop down even deeper as he once again let his eyes deliberately linger over the waiter’s body.
There was suddenly a loud bang as Dean slammed his hand down so hard onto his plate it shattered.
Chaz startled, tearing his eyes away from Cas. “Oh goodness, let me get you another plate,” he said, quickly scurrying off into the kitchen.
“Dean,” Cas admonished, feigning surprise. “What is your problem?”
“My problem? My problem? What the fuck is your problem? I’d like to eat my breakfast without watching you and Prince Charming fucking each other right in front of me,” Dean snapped, his hands clenching into fists as he bared his teeth. The whole table was rattling as Dean's body shook with pent up emotions. The maple syrup was knocked over, dripping sticky residue across their plates. Dean didn’t seem to notice the mess. His chest was heaving sharp breaths, his jaw clamped shut so tightly it ached. His vision was wavering, eyes blurring until the only thing he could see clearly was Cas.
Cas leaned back in his seat, shooting a hard look at Dean. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we had to sit back and watch you flirt with everyone that walked past us but so help me God when I decide to show an interest in someone. Or is it that you’re just pissed that I’m showing an interest in someone besides you?”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not like I’ve been hiding my attraction to you. Maybe I just got tired of waiting for you to make a move,” Cas shot back.
Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple times, the words seeming to get lodged in his throat as the jealousy, anger, and desire crashed and burned through his body. “Go out with me,” he finally rasped out.
Cas cocked his head to the side. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Go out with me. Go on a date with me, Castiel,” Dean said, raising an eyebrow at Cas as if challenging Cas to say no.
Cas hesitated for a moment, just to see Dean squirm. The asshole deserved it after making Cas wait ten years before growing a pair. “Fucking finally,” he said, breaking out into a smile.
Without hesitation, Dean reached across the table, grabbed Cas’ tie, and yanked him forward. “Gonna kiss you now,” Dean said, his mouth hovering just over Cas’.
“‘Bout damn time,” Cas replied, bumping his nose against Dean’s.
And then Dean closed the distance, his hand still wrapped around Cas’ tie as their lips met in a bruising kiss. Cas let out a relieved huff through his nose, the air cascading over Dean’s cheek, and Dean moaned lowly in his throat, nipping at Cas’ lower lip and running his tongue over it before diving in and kissing Cas again.
There was a loud thump on the table and Cas and Dean broke apart; Cas heaving in a deep breath and Dean’s hand looping around Cas’ tie to keep him close. They both looked over to see the waiter, who had dropped a new plate on the edge of the table.
“What about our date?” Chaz asked, raising an eyebrow at Cas questioningly.
Dean snarled, yanking Cas forward again to lock their lips together in another searing kiss. “Get your own damn angel. This one is mine,” he said possessively against Cas’ mouth.
“Dean,” Cas gasped. “You can’t go around telling everyone that I’m an-”
Dean cut him off though, wrapping the remainder of the material of Cas’ tie around his hand until there was no slack left and Cas was leaning more onto Dean’s side of the table. “Mine. My angel,” Dean said, closing the distance and kissing Cas noisily; groaning lowly just to make a point.
They broke apart, and Cas felt like his head was spinning. He was breathless and hungry for more, more, more. Dean tasted like maple syrup and the bitter after-taste of coffee, and Cas was addicted.
“Tonight. You, me, and dinner in some place that isn’t a diner or a take-out burger.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Cas babbled, because finally.
“You guys are disgusting,” Sam grumbled off to their side.
“Shut up,” Dean said good-naturedly, never taking his eyes off of Cas.
“Seriously. First I have to be witness to the flirting, and now I have to watch you two make out while I try and eat breakfast. Disgusting,” Sam complained, even though there was no actual heat to his words.
“What do you say we give him a show?” Dean murmured against Cas’ mouth.
“Yes,” Cas hissed. And then they were kissing again, sharp breaths and quiet moans; lips slotting together over and over, as one kiss morphed into two then into ten.
Cas was the one to break the kissing, pulling back slightly with a dazed look in his eyes.
“Is this what you wanted?” Dean asked breathlessly.
“Oh God yes,” Cas replied, leaning in and kissing Dean again.
“Guys, seriously, we’re in public. Go make out somewhere else. Some of us are just trying to eat our toast in peace,” Sam grumbled, but there was a smile on his face as he kept his eyes locked on his plate.
Dean rolled his eyes, leaning forward to place one last chaste kiss to Cas’ mouth before he finally pulled away; letting the silk of Cas’ tie slip through his fingers.
“Hey Cas?” Dean asked as he sat back down in his seat.
“Mmm?” Cas hummed, his eyes still glazed over as he sunk back down into the booth.
“Delete that number right now,” Dean said, another wave of jealousy radiating off of him as he looked at the discarded paper with disdain.
Cas chuckled, fishing out his phone and pushing it across the table to Dean. “I never saved it. See for yourself if you don’t believe me. I just wanted to make you jealous.”
Instead of reaching for the phone, Dean snagged the piece of paper, tearing it in half and dropping it into the last remains of his cold coffee.
“You’re mine,” he said, locking eyes with Cas and darting his tongue out over his lower lip.
Cas sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darting down to Dean’s swollen lips. He swallowed thickly. “I’m yours,” Cas replied, flickering his gaze back up and catching the predatory look in Dean’s eyes. It sucked all of the air out of Cas’ lungs, leaving him breathless and dizzy with desire.
For once, maybe some dumb magazine article had been right. Cas finally had what he wanted, and he had to admit, jealous Dean was sexy. The words slipped from his mouth before he even registered them: “You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”
Dean, who had been about to take a bite of his pancake, stopped and smirked, the predatory gleam sparking in his eyes again. And this time it was Cas knocking the fork out of the way as he leaned over and dragged Dean into another kiss.
Sam made a show of grabbing the car keys from the table, announcing loudly he was eating his last piece of toast in the peace of the Impala. Dean hummed vaguely, waving his hand at Sam as he licked his way into Cas’ mouth.
And maybe Dean purposely waited until the waiter had come back with the cheque to moan into the kisses, groaning out Cas’ name. Cas shuddered, Dean’s name on his lips as he pressed another kiss to Dean’s mouth.
And maybe, just maybe, Cas was plotting how he could tempt that jealous streak out of Dean again. Because hot damn, Dean really was new levels of attractive when he was jealous and Cas wanted, wanted, wanted.
My second entry for the DeanCas #SPNStayAtHome event hosted by @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen :)
Also posted to ao3 if anyone is interested in reading it there!
As per requested, tagging @baby-in-a-trenchcoat7 who wanted to be tagged when it was posted!
Monday 2: Gentleman
I Still Get Jealous
Dean plopped himself down onto the stale stained seat at the empty bar, tilting his head to the side slightly to cast his eyes over to Sam, who had just slid into a garish red booth with their potential target; an alluring witch in her mid-thirties hexing young men in the town to explode their girlfriends. Ensuring Sam was safe and hadn’t given the signal to make a move, he darted his eyes to the other side of the dimly lit bar where Cas was casually sitting on his own, watching over a young man in a K-State sweatshirt who was the next victim on the witch’s hit list.
Dean undoubtedly had the easiest job of the night; watch the scene from afar, and jump in if his brother or his boyfriend gave the signal. Unless Sam was right about the other part of the plan, then he’d have a little more work to do, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Either way, it didn’t stop him from being on high alert; his gun tucked conveniently in the back of his waistband and his eyes canvassing the place every few seconds.
They’d only been in the bar for a total of ten minutes and Dean was starting to get antsy, his knee bouncing as he looked over at Sam again. His brother seemed calm and collected, reaching out to touch the woman’s hand and smiling at her brightly. Good. At least that part of the plan was working. All Sam needed to do was get the details of where she was taking the victims to put them under her spell, as one of the young men was still missing, and if he took her out afterwards, Dean was more than happy with that result.
Just as Dean was about to glance over to Cas again, someone bumped his shoulder casually. “For someone sitting alone, you sure do look fidgety. Mind if I buy’ya a drink?”
Glancing up, Dean locked eyes with a gentleman about his age; dark black curly hair with bright green eyes and a lazy smirk.
Bingo. The witch’s apprentice.
God, Dean was never going to hear the end of it after betting Sam that there was no way this guy would show and take the bait so easily.
‘You’re just his type,’ Sam had cackled in their motel room earlier that evening, batting his eyes and smirking at Dean. Cas had growled at that, the pencil in his hands cracking at the implication, but neither Dean nor Sam had heard him, too busy making a bet over if the apprentice would show.
Time to turn on the charm. Dean cocked his head to the side, sliding his tongue over his lower lip and darting his eyes up and down the man in front of him, lingering over the man’s waist. “Depends. You got plans later?”
Dean chanced a brief look over to Cas, who’s shoulders had suddenly tensed up and was laser focused on him. From the way he was hunched forward, his fingers itching towards his sleeve, Dean knew things could go bad very quickly if he didn’t intervene.
He gave a quick shake of his head, trying to tell Cas to stand down. ‘It’s fine,’ he mouthed at Cas, trying everything in his power to ease Cas’ worry without being able to reach out and touch him. It ached in Dean’s chest. He wanted to grab Cas by the lapels and kiss him firmly, reassuring him that he only had eyes for Cas. But right now, he had a job to do, and several people’s lives, including Sam’s, could be on the line if he didn’t play his cards right. So he silently prayed to Cas, reminding him of who had his heart as he broke eye contact with his angel and looked back to the man in front of him.
The man grinned, nodding his head to the bartender and holding up two fingers. “I might do. Might change those plans if your offer is better. Whatcha got in mind, sweetheart?”
“I got a bottle of whiskey in my motel room that would look real nice dripping down your chest,” Dean said, flashing the man a dirty smirk, slipping into the role he needed to play.
The man chuckled darkly, reaching out to squeeze Dean’s thigh. “Well, ain’t that just a tempting offer. Far more entertaining than my previous commitments.”
“Is that so?” Dean asked, forcing himself to hold still and not shove the hand away despite every alarm bell in his head going off at a hand that wasn’t Cas’ touching him. Taking a deep breath, he leaned into the man’s space. At this angle, he couldn’t see Sam, but he was able to dart his eyes over to Cas in hopes that if he needed to make a move, Cas would let him know. But when his eyes locked with Cas’ again, he felt the air in his lungs leave in a sharp gasp.
Cas was almost radiating, a hazy pulsating glow hovering around the angel. His eyes were dark and piercing; his lips pulled back in a snarl. Spiderweb cracks crawled up the bottle in his left hand, and the wooden table seemed to be bending inwards on itself under the grip of Cas’ other hand. It was terrifying and slightly intoxicating, and Dean wasn’t sure whether to be on high alert or turned on by Cas’ display.
Dean tried to shoot Cas a stern look, raising his eyebrows and mouthing ‘calm down’. He could see Cas starting to bristle, the tip of his angel blade pressing into his wrist as if it knew how strongly Cas wanted to use it on the man in front of Dean. Before he could see Cas’ full reaction, the man cleared his throat, and Dean flickered his eyes back to the man in front of him, making sure to let his gaze linger on the man’s lips before making eye contact again.
“You got a name?” the man asked, pushing a glass of amber liquid into Dean’s hand.
“Ethan.” Swirling the liquid in the glass, Dean lifted it to his mouth and drained the shot, licking his lips slowly. He was going to need to be way more drunk than he currently was if he was ever going to be able to get past his revulsion to fake interest and arousal for the man in front of him.
The man smirked, signalling the bartender for another round. “Liam,” the man said, tipping his glass towards Dean in silent cheers before downing his own drink.
“Well then, Liam, what other offers you got on the table tonight?” Dean asked, reaching out to trail his own hand up Liam’s inner thigh, shoving down the bright flash of disgust that burned his stomach.
Flicking his gaze back to Cas had been a dangerous move. The angel was pure fury, the hazy fog turning into something dark and lethal. Maybe it was just his connection to Cas, but Dean could swear he could see the faint outline of black wings crawling out of Cas’ back, as if he was losing control of his hold on his angel powers. That sent a thrill down Dean’s spine, and a small part of his brain short circuited at the idea of Cas pouncing and claiming Dean right there against the bar. ‘Cas,’ he mouthed. A warning. A plea. A dark desire.
Liam laughed darkly- snapping Dean’s attention away from Cas- and shifted in his seat to splay his legs open further. “My boss is working on a case tonight. I’m supposed to be helping seal the deal, bring the young guy in and give him what he needs.”
Taking a deep breath to steady his fraying nerves, Dean casually glanced over to Sam, checking that he wasn’t in any immediate danger before skittering his eyes around the rest of the bar as if he was just checking out the scenery. “You gonna ditch that boss of yours then?”
“Depends on how much of a good time you’re offering, Ethan,” Liam said, reaching a hand out to rest on the nape of Dean’s neck.
Dean shuddered, not from the touch of the man sitting next to him, but from the way he could feel the waves of rage radiating off of Cas as he shot daggers their way. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Cas had ripped his angel blade from his sleeve and thrown it straight into the other man’s back. He didn’t have to turn around to feel the heavy weight of Cas’ eyes on them; could almost feel Cas’ jealousy burning through his own veins. He willed Cas to look away, praying internally for Cas to focus on the college kid and not on him.
“Aren’t you lucky then, because I’m willing to offer the best fuck of your life,” Dean said, gritting his teeth at the sudden wave of nausea snaking up his throat. This would have been so much easier back in the day; back when Dean didn’t give a fuck who he flirted with if it meant solving the case and saving people.
“Best fuck of my life, huh? What makes you think you’re that good?” Liam’s hand moved from his thigh, inching closer to his crotch.
Dean’s back stiffened. Things were about to go sideways really fucking fast if Sam didn’t make his move on the witch.
“I’m- uh… I’m-” Dean started to say, his mind racing as the situation started slipping through his fingers.
“Speechless, huh? Bet you’re gonna be struggling for words when I’m pounding into you, too,” Liam said, closing the distance between them to place his lips on Dean’s neck.
And that was the final straw. Almost the same second Dean felt the touch on his neck, there was a loud crack and pieces of wood from Cas’ table burst into the air. One second the man was plastered to his side, and the next he was gone, Castiel hurling the man over the bar and into the wall of bottles. The bottles exploded, liquor spraying everywhere and glass shattering across the floor.
Screams echoed through the bar as the patrons scattered, ducking under tables and running out of the door.
There was a distant shrill shriek, and Dean had his hand on his gun and was aiming towards the garish red booth before he could even process what he was doing. Sam had a blade stabbed through the witches hand, but the second it took him to grab his gun was too long and the witch threw him across the room with a flick of her other hand.
Dean lurched forward, casting his eyes to Sam for a brief moment to ensure he was still breathing before aiming at the witch and sending three shots off in quick succession.
There was another ear-splitting screech, and the witch tore off, tables flying towards Dean with another flick of the witches hand as she made her break for the door. Dropping to the floor, Dean ducked the flying furniture and fired another shot. It clipped the witch in the shoulder, and she stumbled for a half second before ripping the door open and darting out.
Sam was back up, pushing through the rubble and chasing after the witch as she fled the bar. “I got her! Help Cas,” Sam yelled over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
Dean stumbled, taking a half step to instinctively follow Sam before he looked over to the bar and saw Cas cornering Liam, his moves predatory as he finally pulled his angel blade from his sleeve. “You touched what belongs to me,” Cas hissed, slashing out with the blade and catching Liam across the forearm. Liam screamed out in pain, lashing out and attempting to punch Cas. The angel easily dodged, instead hurling his weight into Liam and sending him crashing into the wall with a loud thunk.
“Cas!” Dean shouted. “We need him alive until Sam’s got the witch.”
The growl that slipped from Cas’ throat was so loud Dean heard it halfway across the room. The feral sound sent a shudder down Dean’s spine, and the sudden urge to have Cas’ lips on his raced through his body. There was something so darkly seductive about Cas being that possessive, and it filled Dean with primal need to have Cas right then and there.
In a flash, Cas lashed out, stabbing the blade through Liam’s shoulder and into the wall behind him, effectively trapping him as the man screamed in agony. “Stay,” Cas hissed. “Be grateful. If it were up to me, you’d be dead right now.” He turned away with a flap of his trenchcoat, crunching over broken glass as he moved towards Dean.
“Sam took off after the witch. I should probably…” Dean trailed off, pointing with his thumb in the general direction of the door.
Cas nodded stiffly, and Dean took half a step backwards before Cas reached out, his hand snatching Dean’s waist and pulling him closer. “Mine,” Cas growled, tugging Dean down into a bruising kiss.
It only lasted a few seconds before Cas pulled away, leaving Dean dazed and swaying on his feet. He nodded weakly, the world spinning as he tried to catch his breath. “Yeah, Cas. I’m yours.”
Those words seemed to cause something to snap in Cas, because one second they were standing there, breathing in each other’s space, and the next Cas had Dean pinned to the wall, teeth clashing as they kissed. Dean reached up, fingers latching onto Cas’ hair as he yanked him even closer, shoving his tongue into Cas’ mouth and lapping up every deep throated growl Cas was making. Cas arched into Dean’s touch, fingernails digging into Dean’s waist as their tongues wrapped around each other and they kissed and kissed. Dean pulled away, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. Cas trailed his lips down, sucking a kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw.
“Cas,” Dean gasped out, his eyes fluttering shut as he struggled to control the swirling thoughts in his head.
Cas groaned, nipping Dean’s skin before pulling away. “Go help Sam,” he said, forcing himself to let Dean go as he took a step back.
With a sharp nod, Dean ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “This isn’t over,” he said, eyes lingering on Cas’ swollen lips as another pang of desire sparked in Dean’s stomach. Shaking his head to force his thoughts back to the case, Dean bottled the emotions and took off after Sam. They had a witch to kill.
It wasn’t until they were back in their motel room hours later- after they’d tracked down the witch and taken care of her and the apprentice, and the captured young man and the man in the college sweatshirt were both safe- that Dean cornered Cas, pressing the angel up against the wall with his hip.
“What the hell was that all about earlier?” Dean asked.
Cas’ expression immediately darkened, an almost feral look glinting in his eyes. “That man had his hands and mouth all over you, Dean.”
“Yes, I was well aware. And I hated every second of it. But the case came first. You knew that it was all fake flirting. It wasn’t like I was actually going to bring him back to the motel and let him fuck me. Nor would I have let him kiss me. I would have shoved him off.”
“But you didn’t!”
“Because you went full angel fury the millisecond it happened. Cas, look at me.” Dean paused, waiting for Cas’ eyes to lock with his. “I wouldn’t have let it happen. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone off with some gentleman in a bar for a good time in the sack. C’mon, Cas, you know me better than that. After all this time, have I ever once given you a reason to doubt me? Have I ever once flirted with anyone else in the last few years and actually meant it?”
Cas sagged back against the wall, the fight draining from him. “No, you haven’t.”
“Trust me, the ruse would have been over very quickly when he discovered I couldn’t even remotely get it up for him.” Dean leaned forward, nosing along Cas’ jaw and up behind his ear. “Although, I do gotta admit, you’re sexy as fuck when you’re jealous,” Dean murmured, rolling his hips slightly into Cas’.
Cas hissed, feeling the press of Dean’s bulge against his thigh.
“When you slammed me up against the wall and kissed me earlier… I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life,” Dean confessed, his lips ghosting over Cas’ jaw before he lurched forward and kissed Cas, long and deep and biting.
Cas quickly took control of the kiss, biting at Dean’s lower lip and causing both of them to moan. Cas pulled back, panting, his eyes blown wide. “Angel fury is a turn on now, is it?”
“Fuck yes,” Dean said, eyes darting back down to Cas’ mouth.
Cas took the hint, looping his fingers into Dean’s belt loops and drawing him even closer before they were kissing again, wet and hot and desperate. Dean slotted his thigh between Cas’ legs and they both gasped as Dean rolled their hips together, creating a delicious burn of friction.
“C’mon angel, take me to bed and show me who I really belong to.”
Cas groaned, arching up and catching Dean’s mouth in another frantic kiss. He was more than happy to take Dean up on that offer.
