#superanatural

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Dean x Various (mentioned)

Word count :   1,559

Written for : @spnfluffbingo​​

Square : Singing in the shower.

Warnings : AU - Any song your soulmate sings you hear in your head. Angst ahead, fluff. Dean is a dingus who doesn't believe he could have a soulmate. Alcohol consumption, nudity.

A/N : Biggest thank you to @iflostreturntosteverogers​ as her tiktok obssession  gave me this idea. Sadly the specific tiktok that inspired this is no longer available so I can’t link it as a source. 

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

You sighed, head hanging down and eyes closed, letting the heat of the water run down over you. The pain of everything was still fresh despite the weeks of separation. He’d denied you, ignored what you really were to him, what you knew to be true, he’d denied it all and shut you out. You felt like a part of you was missing but there was nothing more you could do, you couldn’t make him change his mind.

One night of fiery passion and you lost it all. Your best friend. Your soulmate.

He didn’t believe it, didn’t believe you were meant for him and him alone and everything changed. He barely looked at you, avoided you like you had the plague. He basically sidelined you despite being a competent hunter in your own right before ever even meeting him, then vanished for weeks with his brother. Ignored your calls the whole time he was gone, and when he returned and you pleaded with him, begged him to let you back in, he’d simply walked away.

So you opted to walk away too. Leaving the brothers and everything you’d found with them behind for one crappy motel after another like before. For cheesy old movies, breakup junk food and showers that lasted until you were done crying or the hot water ran out.

Thought Castiel deserved a 5 star meal too

Part twwwwwooooo!!! to this fic right here! With the help of @pissbabydean, we got through it somehow! Thanks babe. ily!

Also @wordstrings thank you for this prompt idea! I was going to tage you in the last one and then I was stupid.

~~~

Dean’s a whore. Cas provides. And is also an asshole. Sam hates them both.

~~~

“So, Dean? What’s it going to be?” Cas asked, silky smooth next to Dean’s ear.

“I-I...” Dean tried, but nothing came out. He was still stiff as a board, eyes trained on the door. It looked so appealing, but the burning on his back from where the fingers were laid kept him from moving towards it.

After a long thirty seconds that felt more like eons to Dean, he felt maybe actions were easier than words right now. He allowed his arms to relax, and he moved them away from his sides. Ever so slightly, and only a couple of inches. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Is that your answer?” Cas asked, teasingly. His voice ran deeper than normal, causing Dean to have to fight the urge to scrunch his neck up to his ears.

He gave a weak nod, eyes still trained on the door. His arms reeled back into place, glued to his sides, as soon as Cas’s whirred to life. They gently scratched at the hollows of his ribs, hitting every pocket of nerves they could in the soft flesh between bone.

Dean was already laughing. The vulnerability he became subject to in their previous conversation heightened his senses. He leaned back into Cas, trying to use him for stability. Cas stepped back, gently helping Dean to the floor, never stopping the onslaught to his sensitive sides.

Once Dean was laying flat on his back, Cas stopped in order to swivel himself around, landing on Dean’s lap. The door was no longer an option he thought, as he stared up into the angels eyes. They held the look of mischief, and sadism. Two looks Dean had never seen cross the other man's features before now. Both that would have terrified him in any other situation. But here, now, all he felt was a nervous excitement.

Cas placed his hands on Dean’s sides again, just holding them there. He felt the stomach under him tense and suck in, while the hunter squirmed lightly under his hold. He didn’t move, though - not yet. He wanted Dean to stew before he attacked.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he felt nimble fingers reach for his sides, already squirming. When the fingers didn’t move though, he felt himself involuntarily sucking in his stomach, a feeble attempt at averting the soon-coming onslaught. When the fingers still did not move, he screwed his eyes shut. The tension began to build to an almost intolerable level.

That’s all Cas needed to finally dig in. His fingers squeezed the sensitive flanks twice, before deliberately wiggling into the soft flesh. He revelled in the gasp and the loud, bright laughter it brought out of his hunter. He felt frantic hands grappling at his forearms. His angelic strength kept them from having much effect, though he could tell there was no real strength behind them. More instinct than anything else.

Dean’s eyes flew wide at the first pinch, his arms immediately squeezed to his sides at the second. His hands flew to grab at Cas’s hands, more to ground himself rather than push him away. Once Cas started kneading, he screamed from the built up anticipation and release. He writhed and bucked under the grinning angel, his laughter taking on different pitches and qualities as Cas migrated from spot to spot - these reactions were duly noted in the back of his mind. 

“Cas! Cahahahas! Wahahait!” Dean screeched, the first words he’d spoken since wanting to run for the door.

He was in the middle of an admittedly cruel assault of his underarms, though Cas noted Dean still wasn’t putting up much of a fight - certainly not what the hunter was capable of (in fact, he was almost sure Dean had loosened his arms so he could get to the protected skin)- when he realised how loud the hunter had started to become. He uncurled his fingers from where they were digging into the soft flesh and trailed them down his sides, feather-light, to rest at his waistband. Dean’s laughter had tapered off into almost-giggly breathing while he tried to catch his breath.

“Dean, if you continue screaming like that, Sam is bound to hear you.” Cas smirked down, meeting the hunter’s gaze.

Dean bristled and glowered up at the smug angel.

“I was not screaming,” He huffed, an insult sitting on the tip of his tongue. It never made its way out though, as Cas’s fingers decided that was the best time to dip into his waistband. He clamped his arms down and frantically batted at the intruding digits.

“Play nice, or I’ll give you a reason to scream,” He tutted, “I built you up from nothing, I know exactly how to tear you back down.”

A jolt of anxiety laced excitement ran down Dean’s spine and he sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss as he curled his toes. 

“I’ve been to hell and back. I can handle you,” He challenged, hiding his nerves behind an easy smirk.

“You are very confident for a man in your current position-” Castiel dipped down to right beside Dean’s ear, fingers wiggling to life, gently playing with the skin right above his waistband. “Maybe we should find out how long that confidence will last.”

Dean’s breath hitched, and shut his eyes. Before his brain could comprehend what his mouth was saying, he blurted, “Bring it.”

“Of course. But remember; keep it down. You scream, and I stop. You don’t want that, do you?”

Dean swallowed and didn’t reply, words failing him as he surveyed the predatory and calculating look on the other man. But, actions did speak louder than words, didn’t they? 

He stuck out his tongue. 

Castiel, the winged sadistic bastard, drilled right into his hips. 

His thumbs massaged, rubbed, vibrated along the hypersensitive ridges of bone while his fingers fluttered and scritched at his sides. Dean’s mouth fell open in what was going to be a scream until Cas leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck. The unprecedented and ticklish sensation ended up tangling his tortured scream with a choked snort and he just ended up coughing.

He was a little more prepared to fight against the urge to just screech until his vocal chords tapped out, but it didn’t stop choked laughter from spilling out between his lips. As hard as he tried to keep himself under control, there was only so much he could stop from bubbling to the surface. With his smile wide, he could only pull his lips back in a scowl for a few seconds. But it was long enough for Cas to notice the strangled surprise flash across his features.

“You look surprised, Dean. Did you think I was bluffing?” He teased, skating his hand over to spider at the center of his abdomen - the soft spot just under his ribs that made him toss his head back and tumble into full-belly laughter that he was having a hard time stifling. 

“You’re being very inconsiderate to Sam. All this laughing is surely going to disturb him, I thought I told you to keep quiet.” 

“Screhehehew off!” Dean rebutted and a few particularly bright giggles slipped out. Cas was almost sad he was making Dean hold them and their brethren in. 

Oh well - another time, then.

And, yeah, he had a feeling there was going to be a next time - if the reactions, no matter how held back and muted, were anything to go by. Dean was just covering his face with his hands, attempting to stuff his fist in his mouth while his eyes were pricked with tears of mirth. 

He looked beautiful, not particularly more so than usual, just...different. Lighter. It was the kind of beauty that left you feeling like some of it rubbed off on you. Castiel decided he liked Dean like this more than he thought he did. The hunter never failed to surprise him.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he started hearing wheezing. He lightened his fingers, drawing light circles around his sides, waiting for Dean’s laughter to taper off. Once his held-back cackles died out into heavy breaths mixed with light happy giggles, he allowed his sadist mask to fall for a moment.

“Are you doing okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked.

Dean shook his head, “I juhuhust need to cahatch my breath,” he scrubbed  a hand down his face, wiping the small line of sweat that accumulated above his brow.

The angel nodded, before pressing a hand to Dean’s chest, while he kept the other at his side, still tracing teasing circles. A wave of grace entered his lungs, filling them up with air and removing the residing ache. “Better?”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly. He forgot about angel mojo. But as he took a few breaths, he nodded, feeling rejuvenated.

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.” Cas’s sadistic smirk reappeared.

Deans nervous giggles returned before they jumped back to mirth filled laughter. There was skittering along his inner thighs, but he could feel Cas’s one hand on his chest and the other still teasing at his side.

“C-Cahahahas, what eheheheis thahahat?” He tried kicking his legs out, but the sensation never relented.

“Giving you your strength back made me realize, I have been neglecting to use the best way to torture you. My grace.” Cas said matter of factly.

“Th-that ihihis so unfahahahair Ah- Cas, nohoho!” Dean clapped a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter, as he felt the invisible force rise up, forcing its way into every groove of his hips. 

He felt it scrape along the edges of bone, and vibrate into the dips where his abdomen met leg. He could almost feel it under his skin and even in his bones.  In a feeble attempt to muffle the screaming cackles that were being forced from his throat, he grabbed whatever was closest to him- which just so happened to be Castiel’s trench coat covered arm, still lazily resting on his chest- and stuffed it into his mouth. He bit down, thankfully on just fabric, and screamed into his angels forearm.

Dean lasted a total of 37 seconds before succumbing to silent laughter. Cas continued the onslaught on his hips for a few more, before finally moving his grace up his sides, and rolled off the hunter. He curled around himself, giggling like a mad man.

As the grace slowly subsided from Deans waist, so did his laughter, until the only sound filling the room was his panting. Once his breathing calmed, Cas stood up, offering a hand to help the other onto wobbly legs and walking him to the library couch. 

Once close enough to the cushions, he let his body tumble, laying on his back, eyes closed. He threw an arm over his head, a small smile still noticeable. Cas took a moment to take in the sight. He was in awe. He didn’t recognise the Dean Winchester splayed out in front of him. The angry, pissed off, World on his shoulders hunter had been replaced with a soft, happy, free human being. They still had another apocalypse to derail, that they knew nothing about yet. But it would still be there tomorrow.

Cas grabbed the lore book he was reading before Dean had walked in, and lifted the tired man’s head, sneaking himself underneath. They stayed like that the rest of the day, Cas’s hands tethered in his hunters hair while Dean took a well deserved break from the fight.

~~~

Four years and three apocalypses later, when Chuck became the most recent bad guy in a long list of bad guys, and brought up Death’s previous pastimes, Dean and Cas shared a look. A knowing look. A shared inside joke between the two of them. Perhaps Chuck brought it up to let them know he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was just bantering about Billie.

Either way, if it weren’t for Death, Dean and Cas would have never gotten together. Maybe he really did know what the hell he was talking about all those years ago.

Of course I can write something like this! I would love something like this (the comforting of a partner (which I wish I have)) to happen to me as I’m a trans!male. Personally, I haven’t met someone who’s transphobic in my life yet (except for an ex-friend’s family as they are very Christian and would’ve used my birth name and birth-pronouns if I lived with them)

People Are Assholes

ALEX JONES ICONS

Me : Has drawn on black paper exactly once before in middle school, can’t draw cars

@daenw

Read it Here

Chapter 19 of “Some Sunny Day”

Tom's swiping around on one of his recipe apps when hears the door to the guest bedroom open and then close. Dean lurches out, smoothing down his hair as he crosses the living room. He's got deep red pillow lines across his face, and Tom can tell by the way his clothes are wrinkled that he slept in them again, which wouldn't have bothered him, but he's pretty sure Dean slept in those clothes all night too.

"Hey," Dean says quietly, and Tom feels another quick wave of relief. He's talking already. He hadn't been able to say a word all day yesterday, even when he had been awake, and he'd had to work up to it for almost two hours the day before. Tom's surprise must have registered on his face, because Dean looks guilty, then clears his throat. "You hungry?"

"I was thinking about getting something started," Tom replies. He points to the beer on the counter, Dean nods. Tom pops the cap off and slides it to the other side of the kitchen island.

Dean takes a grateful gulp. "I… I was thinking I could do dinner tonight. As a thank-you."

"I wouldn't mind watching you work your way around a kitchen," Tom says. He's forcing his tone too light, and he can hear it, but not stop it.

Dean hesitates. "I'm not really… great in the kitchen." He takes another drink from his beer. "Maybe I could take you out?"