You’re not wrong, Angel. He is special indeed.
And he is going to be very special to you. Also Jensen you are supposed to look suspicious and scared, why are you looking at him with those smiling eyes?
Request: How about a Dean fic where he gets hit with a truth spell and tries to avoid the reader so he doesnt admit his feelings, as a comeback into Supernatural fics?
AN: Alright loves, I haven’t written for Supernatural in a few years but here goes. Let’s see how much I remember about writing these lovely boys shall we? (Also I’m so sorry I didn’t get any fics up this weekend it was a mess but I won’t bore you with any details)
Most would call you crazy for hunting with the Winchesters. The boys had an angel on a leash and were raising the son of Lucifer. You however had a soft spot for the two Winchesters and their angels. Sam was a gentle giant, always sharing his flannels and making you coffee. Castiel was always there to listen to you and offer his strangely profound advice, Jack never too far behind with his innocent jokes to make you feel better.
You loved them all, especially Dean. Even if the eldest Winchester never said it to your face you could tell he cared. Dean would always silently bandage your wounds, always be right there if you woke up screaming from a nightmare. Dean would always pull you into his chest and rub your back silently as you gripped onto his shirt to ground yourself, pull yourself from the lasting tendrils of the darkness. Dean would always protect you from creeps at the bar, always make sure you got back to the bunker safe, never leaving you to fend for yourself.
Today was another one of those days. The three of you, had gone out on a hunt while Cas and Jack stayed behind at the bunker to do research. What was supposed to be a routine hunt for a witch had gone wrong. It turned out to be an entire coven, and a strong one at that. Sam had taken the brunt of the stunning spell, leaving you and Dean a little loopy while trying to guard Sam’s groaning form between the two of you.
Finally there was one witch left. She looked around frantically at the ingredients still in the bowl, and grabbed one last one. She threw it and a match into the bowl, throwing her hands towards Dean before you shot your gun, lodging a witch killing bullet between her eyes. Dean was doubled over as the spell slowly took effect over him. You hadn’t gotten a good enough look at what was in the bowl to know exactly what it was doing to hi but you knew it wasn’t lethal.
“Dean, are you alright?” You asked, kneeling next to him and placing one hand on either side of his face. He let out a huff, gritting his teeth and rolling onto his back in pain, gripping your forearm tightly.
“I feel like I just got hit by a freighter.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and stood up, sliding your gun into the holster on your thigh. You noticed Dean watching you carefully as you knelt and helped Sam into a sitting position, checking to see if the moose of a man would be alright. He shooed you away and you stood, volunteering to check the rest of the house as the boys got themselves back together.
“She’s hot.” Dean said when you left the room. Sam looked at him and gave him a surprised look. He’d suspected his older brother had a crush on you for awhile, but never expected him to say it so bluntly.
“Uh, what?” Sam asked. Dean stood and helped Sam up, looking out the door you had just disappeared through.
“Hot, y'know, smokin’, pretty, all that stuff.” Dean said. Sam looked at him then at the remnants of the spell in the bowl. He let his shoulders slump. A truth spell. Dean was at the complete mercy of anybody who asked him for the truth. At least all you had left was the drive back.
“Hi Cas.” You said as you pushed open the bunker door. Sam caught it and ushered Dean through. So far they had managed to avoid any serious issues with Dean letting it slip (to you) just how much he wanted to get you in his bed. Cas looked up and gave the three of you a smile.
“Hello. How was the hunt?” He asked. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam shoved him roughly and Dean was forced to shut his mouth as he caught himself from falling down the stairs. Dean quickly bolted to his room once his feet hit the floor of the bunker and you peered after him curiously.
You turned your attention back to Cas, who was sitting at a laptop next to Jack. Jack had fallen asleep with his arms folded in front of him and his nose pressed into the crook of his elbow as he snored softly. You took a step towards the two and ran your fingers through Jack’s soft hair. The young nephilim stirred slightly before his eyes fluttered open and he hugged you with a grin.
“Welcome home!” He said. Cas might have been his father figure but you were the mother he wished he had. You gave him a smile and rubbed his back for a moment until he let you go. You settled yourself on the table, graciously accepting the cup of coffee Sam offered you.
“Well once we figured out it was a coven it couldn’t have gone any smoother.” You said. Cas raised his eyebrows. Dean had called him before you had gone in to kill the witch, and he said there was only one. You nodded your head as you winced when you tasted the bitterness of the coffee. Jack looked at the cup and blinked. You looked down to see the coffee turning lighter and took another sip. It tasted of sweet cream and sugar. You gave Jack a smile before turning to Cas.
“Yeah there was a coven, pretty big one too. We left the specific body count to the authorities though. Dean and Sam were a little off so I just drove us home.” You explained. Cas nodded his head and turned back to the laptop. You stood off of the table after finishing your coffee, setting the empty cup down where you’d been sitting.
You walked down the hall to your room and pushed open the door to see a pile of clean laundry on the bed. There was a long black feather with a silver tip sitting on the clumsily folded clothes. You took it, recognizing it as one of Jack’s and set it on your nightstand. Jack didn’t have much else to give to thank you so he was constantly pulling out his own feathers to present. You didn’t know how he could make it so you could touch them, but you weren’t complaining that the little nephilim appreciated you.
You turned to the wall that stood between your room and Dean’s and considered going to check on him. However once you changed into your pajamas which consisted of a pair of Sam’s sweatpants with the strings pulled tight and one of Dean’s Metallica T-shirts you were exhausted. You collapsed onto your bed, nestling into the covers and taking a deep breath. You’d check on him in the morning.
When you walked out of your room you made B-line for the kitchen. You could already smell the food one of the brothers had cooked and you were starving. You walked into the kitchen with your sock-clad feet to see Dean standing in front of the stove with a spatula and an apron.
“Morning.” You said quietly, reaching over him to grab a piece of bacon from the plate. Dean nearly dropped the spatula into the bowl of pancake batter when he saw you wearing his shirt. He swallowed heavily and sat in silence, afraid to open his mouth. You slid onto the counter, swinging your legs over the edge as Sam walked into the room with a scowl on his face and his hair fluffed up to three times its usual size.
“Good morning to you too sleeping beauty.” You teased. Sam grumbled a response before grabbing the large plate of eggs and a fork. He sat next to you on the counter, stuffing fork fulls of eggs into his mouth. You grabbed a tiny piece of the eggs, quickly shoving it in your mouth as Sam shot you a death glare. You flashed him a smile before turning to see the stove empty. Where Dean once stood was now empty. You glanced toward the door to see him disappearing through it and frowned slightly. Was he avoiding you?
“(y/n) pass me the bacon.” Sam muttered. You stood from the counter and brought the rest of the food to the counter you and Sam sat on. the two of you ate your share, leaving the rest for Dean, Cas, and Jack if they wanted any. You and Sam retired to the library to look for another case.
“Sam any idea where Dean went?” You asked. Sam shook his head as he scrolled on the laptop in search of any new cases. You stood up and walked to Dean’s room, knocking on his door and waiting for him to answer.
“Who is it?” He called. You gently pushed the door open to see him sitting on his bed looking at his phone. You cleared your throat and he snapped his gaze up, jumping up from his bed and rushing past you out the door. It was completely unlike him. You felt slightly hurt at his sudden departure and followed him into the garage of the bunker, slamming the door of the Impala before he could climb in.
“Dean Winchester.” You snapped. Dean backed up at the fire in your eyes and swallowed again. You leaned back against the Impala and crossed your arms.
“What are you doing?” You asked. Dean looked at the ground and you cleared your throat.
“Winchester, I asked you a question.” You growled. Dean looked up at you in shame.
“Running.” He mumbled.
“Yes you,” He huffed. “who else?” You straightened your stance and took a step towards him.
“Why are you running from me?” You whispered. Dean looked down at you. He wanted to kiss you so badly, feel your lips moving against his, he wanted to feel your hands running over his back, cupping the back of his neck.
Dean shuffled his feet and looked down between his boots. You rested your knuckle under his chin, lifting his head so he would look at you. He felt himself melting into your touch. Dean tried to bite his tongue, keep his mouth shut so he wouldn’t have to face your rejection, but he could feel the words building in his chest as the spell forced them up his throat into his mouth and past his teeth.
“Because I love you. I’m afraid of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of saying something I’ll regret or that’ll scare you away (y/n) and I can’t scare you away because I can’t live without you. I never want to lose you but I’m so afraid I will if I say what I want to say but I can’t not say it because of this damn truth spell and I’m sorry if you hate me.” Dean finally managed to close his mouth, awaiting your slap. He screwed his eyes shut and flinched preemptively. He slowly opened his eyes when the impact didn’t come.
You were standing dumbfounded. You’d never thought Dean would love you the way you loved him, but he had just admitted to it all. You placed your hand on his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch as you ran your thumb over his soft skin. You looked up into his emerald green eyes before leaning in and kissing him deeply.
“In a way, I’m glad you got hit with that spell.” You muttered.
“Da, I said not to stand up. Don’t fucking do it.”
First pre-syncope alert from Castiel! He usually alerts DURING an event, so this is the first time he’s alerted before and moved to keep me down without prompting. He alerted to my heart rate rising at 103 (which shot up to 160), blood pressure dropped shortly after to 89/60. Room was spinning shortly after sitting down and the entire episode lasted maybe 20 minutes, during which Cas remained on my lap and did not allow me to move. He allowed a groomer to approach and bring me water as well as help prop me against my desk. Not quite as fast as Rogue yet but he’s making good progress. No PA in non-pet friendly places yet and likely none until he grows a bit more. Slow and steady.
“Does it feel like I’ve fixed it?” Dean grunted, wrench wedged in the unit. “I’m working as fast as I can.”
You sighed, holding back a snide comment (something along the lines of ‘work faster, asshat’) because you knew that wasn’t helpful. You also knew that Dean could handle heat better than you—one wrong comment and he would leave you to melt into a puddle of sweat.
You stepped back into the bunker, making your way to your room. You changed from your sweat-soaked t-shirt into a dry (for now) tank top. Then you wandered back through the halls, pulling an icepack from the freezer before plopping down on the couch, hoping you wouldn’t stick to the leather.
You managed to doze off slightly, the icepack on your forehead cooling you into slumber. You were woken a little while later by a voice.
You opened your eyes, finding Cas standing before you. “Hey, Cas. What’s up?”
“Why is it so hot in here?”
“A/C broke.” You sat up, icepack dropping into your lap—it had gone warm and soft.
“Are you doing all right?”
“Can I do anything for you?”
“Could you go get another icepack from the freezer?” You handed him the used one.
As the angel disappeared into the kitchen, you laid once more on the sofa, this time on your stomach. You heard the angel reappear. “Can you put that on my back?”
The angel stepped forward. “What’s this?”
“Your back. You have wings.”
You were confused but then you remembered the tattoo you’d gotten a few months ago. Two stark, black wings were outlined, reaching down almost the entire length of your back. The angel had yet to see them since normally your back was covered.
“Do you like them?” you asked.
“They’re very pretty.”
You bit your lip slightly. “I, uh… got them for you. Because of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just… wanted a piece of you with me all the time. I know your wings are black, so…”
Cas was quiet; you wondered if you’d embarrassed him.
“May I touch them?” he finally asked, his voice soft.
You felt the angel’s fingers gently touch your ink, tracing over the individual feathers. His fingers were cold—was that natural or a side effect from holding onto the icepack? Either way, it left delicious goosebumps.
Imagine Sam getting glasses while he was at Stanford. And when he starts hunting with Dean again, he wears contacts because he’s self conscious about how he looks in glasses. And then one day, he’s with Dean and Cas in the bunker, and he can’t find his contacts. He’s managed to keep it a secret, so they’ve never seen him in glasses before. So he just walks into the kitchen to get some food, and the others are in there. Dean just drops his cup/plate in shock, and Cas doesn’t respond because he’s just thinking “oh shit he’s hot”.