#GoldenGirls1.5k

[amanda-teaches]

Undercover

Summary: Dean and you are dancing around your feelings for each other when Sam finds a case that might just draw the two of you together.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2638

Warnings: A tinsy bit of swearing. Mostly fluff.

A/N: This one is for two challenges. The first is @kas-not-cas’s 2.5k dialogue challenge. My prompt was “I can’t marry her. She’d kill me within a week!”. And, the second is for @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps‘s Golden Girls 1.5k challenge. That prompt was Dorothy: “I have a date” Blanche: “With a man?” Dorothy: “No, Blanche. With a Venus Fly Trap.” Congrats to both of you wonderful ladies on your milestones! I hope you like what I put together. :)

You trudged into the motel room just behind Sam and Dean, all three of you looking visibly exhausted. You had just wrapped up a week-long hunt, and you and the boys were running on fumes.

Sam peeled off from the group and walked over to the chair by the window to sit down, stretching his feet out in front of him. Dean, on the other hand, moved straight to the bed and fell face down on his stomach, letting out a long and dramatic groan. “I’m so tired, I think I could sleep for a week.”

Sam chuckled wearily. “A week already? On the drive home, it was only a day.”

“What can I say? I think I’m growing more tired by the second.” Dean said. “Besides, I think I deserve a week after that fight.”

You sat down on the bed beside him and laughed. “Take it easy, grandpa. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, yeah?” he muttered. “That’s easy for you to say, Y/N. You didn’t have to be that vamp’s bait.”

“Oh, you big baby,” you said teasingly. “You loved being the center of attention.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean grumbled, turning to face you with a smile. “And, just for that ‘big baby’ crack, you get to make the beer run.”

You laughed again and stood up, stretching your arms up over your head, willing the fatigue away. “As tempting an offer as that is, I’m going to have to pass. I have a date.”

Dean sat up straight at that announcement, his fatigue suddenly gone. “With a man?”

You glared at him. “No, Dean. With a Venus Fly Trap. Yes, with a man!”

Sam laughed at that, drawing a glare from Dean. He immediately closed his mouth and looked down, a small smile still on his face. You looked at the two of them questioningly until Dean turned back to you.

“Who’s your date with?” Dean asked, his voice sounding uncharacteristically unsteady. You raised your eyebrow, but answered him anyway.

“That cute cop we met at the crime scene. Officer Pearson.”

“That moron?” Dean scoffed. “He couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone solve a crime. He’s not worth your time!”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I thought you liked Bryce? You said he was a good guy when we worked with him.”

Dean crossed his arms and frowned. “Well, I don’t like him now. You shouldn’t go out with him, Y/N. You can do better.”

You looked down. You knew you could do better. But, the only man that you were truly interested in only saw you as a friend: Dean. He was the only man for you, but he was more interested in the waitresses and barflies he met on the road than you. He always had been. You had long ago given up hoping that Dean would ever pick you.

So, when Bryce asked you out, you’d said yes. He was a nice enough guy, and he’d treat you to a good time. You knew it could never go anywhere, because he couldn’t make you forget about Dean, but it’d help for the night. “I appreciate your concern, Dean, but I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

You waved goodbye and left to go to your room to shower and change, leaving Dean dismayed and Sam concerned. “You ok, man?”

Dean blinked twice before looking over at Sam. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Y/N is going out on a date. With someone other than you.”

“Hey, Y/N and I are just friends. She can go out with whoever she wants.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dean. It’s me. You don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Dean frowned. “I hate when you go all psych on me, Sammy.”

Sam stared at him intently, until Dean finally gave in. “Fine! Yeah, it’s bugging me. I want to rip that guy’s throat out. But, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You can tell her how you feel.” He held up his hand before Dean could object. “Trust me, Dean, if the choice was between you and Bryce, she’d pick you.”

“I can’t,” he snapped back, before softening his tone. “What if something went wrong, Sammy? What if someone used her to get to me? It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. I can’t put her in jeopardy like that.”

Sam gave him a look filled with sympathy. “You can’t stop living life because you’re afraid.”

“I am not afraid!” Dean growled.

“Mmm hmm….” Sam muttered, unconvinced. “I’m just saying that if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you and Y/N. You could make each other happy. You shouldn’t pass that up.”

“Yeah, whatever you say Dr. Phil,” Dean said sarcastically. He jumped up and walked towards the bathroom. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore!” Dean yelled over his shoulder before he slammed the bathroom door shut.

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Geez. Those two really are clueless.” He shook his head resignedly before opening up his laptop and getting to work on finding their next case.

The next morning, you sauntered into Sam and Dean’s room bright and early with three cups of coffee in your hand. Your date with Bryce had been boring, which was disappointing because you’d been hoping for a fun escape from your feelings for Dean, but, you had gotten a good night’s sleep, leaving you energized and ready for the day. So, the night hadn’t been a total loss.

You put the coffee on the table by the window and moved to pull open the curtains. Bright sunlight filled the room, causing both Sam and Dean to sit up and shield their eyes.

“Good morning!” you announced happily, turning towards them with a smile. Sam muttered a quiet ‘good morning’ in response and got up slowly, moving towards the coffee like it was a magnet.

Dean, on the other hand, laid back down with a groan. “Turn off that light…”

You laughed. “That light would be the sun.”

“Then turn off the sun,” he muttered before rolling back over and covering his eyes with a pillow.

You narrowed her eyes and bit your lip in concentration. Then, you walked past Sam, a clear purpose in your mind, and kneeled down on Dean’s bed, bouncing gently. “Come on, sleepyhead! Rise and shine!”

“Ugh…” he groaned, more gruffly this time. You kept bouncing, going faster in an attempt to get Dean to give in and get up. He started to bat at you with one of his hands, pushing you away, but you dodged his blows and continued to bounce.

After a minute, Sam stepped closer to the two of you with his warm smile in full effect, the coffee already taking a noticeable effect on his energy level. “Y/N’s right, Dean. You’ve got to get up. We have to hit the road. I found us a case.”

Those four words had Dean moving immediately, years’ worth of hunter instincts kicking in. He sat up quickly, nearly knocking you over. He reached out and steadied you before you could fall and pulled you gently towards him, throwing an arm around your shoulders to anchor you. “What case?”

As Sam answered him, you ducked out from under Dean’s arm and scooted towards the other end of the bed. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up the second he touched you. Or the butterflies in your stomach when he pulled you against him. You were over Dean. It was just a little crush that you had under control. Going on that boring date last night proved that. Right?

Yup, this is healthy, you thought to yourself. Obsessing over Dean. Again. Time to snap out of it, Y/N.

You took a deep breath and tuned back into what Sam and Dean were saying.

“I can’t marry her!” you heard Dean exclaim. You turned to him, suddenly interested.

“Marry who?!”

Sam turned to you with a questioning look in his eyes. He was probably wondering why you hadn’t been listening. “You, Y/N. He needs to marry you. Well, pretend marry at least.”

“ME?! Why?”

“Like I said, we need someone to go undercover at the fundraiser to provide a distraction so I can get into the computer system. I can’t do it, because I need to get to the computer, so it has to be you and Dean.”

“Wait a second…” you said, holding up your hands. “Rewind and pause. What kind of a case is this?”

Sam sighed, but repeated himself calmly and patiently. “Last night, I was tracking some demon activity in Chicago. I traced it all back to one house, which seems to be the source.”

You shook your head, still confused. “Whose house is it?”

Dean responded very quietly and seriously, still looking straight at Sam. “Senator Geoffrey Cardin.”

“Whoa…” you whispered. Senator Cardin was one of the most powerful politicians in Washington. If he was a demon, that could only mean bad things.

“Yeah,” Dean said, echoing your shock.

Senator Cardin was currently running for reelection, which was probably why there was a fundraiser. A VIP only fundraiser. Sam had to have pulled a lot of strings to tickets to that. Probably pledging some money from a “big name donor” who would never end up paying up.

Suddenly, you had a thought. “Wait, why do we need to go undercover at the fundraiser? Can’t we just sneak in and gank him the old-fashioned way?”

Dean grinned and pointed at you. “I like that idea better.”

You nodded, but Sam sighed. “I already told you. I need to get into the records on his computer. He could have information on other demons, or even Crowley, that we could use to beat them. This is bigger than just one demon.”

“Fine,” Dean growled. “I understand that. But, why do Y/N and I need to pretend to be married?”

“The only tickets I could snag were for a couple, not two singles.”

“But, I can’t marry her. She’d kill me within a week!”

“Hey!” You yelled. You tried to ignore the hurt that tore through you at the realization that Dean couldn’t stand the thought of being married, even pretend married, to you, but it still stung.

Dean turned to you and gave you a small smile. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know what I mean. No one would ever buy us as a couple. They’d see right through it.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to make it work,” Sam said firmly. “Because it’s the only option we’ve got.”

You looked over at the man you were in love with. How could you possibly get through this without messing everything up?

The next night, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror in a motel on the outskirts of Chicago, IL, where Senator Cardin was throwing his campaign fundraiser at his massive estate. You smoothed out the fabric of the long, black, figure-hugging evening gown you had picked up that morning. You didn’t usually dress this extravagantly, so you felt incredibly self-conscious. It was bad enough that you had to pretend to be married to Dean all night without somehow slipping up and admitting that you loved him, but now you had to do it in a fancy dress and heels.

You sighed deeply, trying to will yourself to step outside the bathroom to meet Sam and Dean. “Let’s get this over with.”

You stepped through the doorway, your eyes instinctively seeking out Dean. He was standing by the door, with his back to you, talking to Sam. You couldn’t even see all of him, but you could already tell that he looked amazing in his tuxedo. Not that you were surprised.

You waited patiently until Sam looked up and saw you. He did a double take before grinning and gesturing for Dean to turn around.

When Dean turned, he had a frown on his face, probably from whatever Sam had been saying, but it instantly vanished the second he saw you. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as his gaze moved down your body, taking in your outfit.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, as if he was trying to decide something. Your self-consciousness flew back, and you assumed he was trying to figure out how to tell you how awful you looked. “Does it look alright?”

Dean grinned, like he was suddenly sure about something. “Sam, can you give us a minute?”

Sam smiled knowingly and nodded before stepping out into the hall. You really started to worry then.

“Dean, what is it? Do I look horrible? I knew it. This is never going to work.”

Dean drew in a breath and walked towards you slowly, not stopping until he was right in front of you. “Y/N, you look beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that I’m wondering why the hell I waited so long.”

You scrunched up your face. “Waited for what?”

“For this,” he whispered just before his lips crashed into yours. You stumbled in surprise, but he steadied you, pulling you into him. The second your body touched his, you melted, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck and your mouth opening to respond to his. He took control, the heat and passion radiating from him and into you, making your knees go weak. It was a good thing he was holding you up, because, if anything was going to make you pass it, it was going to be a kiss from Dean Winchester. And, boy, did that man know how to kiss.

When the kiss was over, he pulled away, leaving you bemused and dumb-struck. “What….Why did you….What?”

Dean laughed quietly. “What?”

“You know what! Why did you kiss me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Dean…” you said warningly.

Dean grinned broadly and tightened his hold on you. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you, Y/N.”

Now it was your turn to smile. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. Of course I do. How could I not? You’re beautiful, smart, funny. Kickass.” He added with a smile, drawing a laugh from you. “And seeing you standing there looking so drop-dead gorgeous in that dress, I couldn’t stand the thought of not kissing you.”

You leaned in to kiss him again but then thought better of it and pulled back, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. “But, wait a minute. If you liked me, then what was that, ‘I can’t marry her’ stuff about?”

He looked down, chagrined. “I was worried that if I had to pretend to be married to you, even for just a night, I wouldn’t be able to hide how I felt about you and I’d mess up our friendship. So, I said that to try to get Sam to drop the plan.”

You grinned and started laughing. “I was thinking the same thing about you!”

Dean started laughing along with you, before leaning in and silencing you both with a kiss. “I guess we really are alike.”

“I guess we are,” you whispered. You pulled back and grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. “Let’s go show everyone just how in sync we are, husband, and when we get back, I’ll show you all the fantasies I was trying to hide from you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Then he leaned in to devilishly whisper in your ear, his breath tickling you. “And, you’d better rest up now, because I’m have a feeling we’re going to be up allllll night.”

The way he said it didn’t sound like an idea, but like a promise. A promise you were more than happy to let him keep.

Tags (List is open! Let me know if you want on or off!):

@hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @jpadjackles @damnandriel-in-hell @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes

[pinknerdpanda]

Wing Man

Characters: Cas x Reader, Dean, Sam

Warnings: Cheesy Pick-up Lines, Fluff, Cas

Word Count: 3,388

A/N: I wrote this for two different challenges that I just felt like went way too well together. The first is @impalaimagining’s Cheesy Pickup Line 4K Follower Celebration. The other is for @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps 1.5K Golden Girls Challenge. I love the themes of both of these challenges and I truly hope that you both enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Congrats to you both on your amazing milestones! The prompts are bolded below.

A/N 2: Beta’d by two of my loves - @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie. Where would I be without you two? Thank you both - I love you!

Tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added to my tags list, just send me an ASK. And as always - Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

(Italics are internal thoughts - kind of. The gif is not mine.)

Wing Man

“OK, what about her?” Dean motions to a petite blonde bombshell, with, what appears to be, an expensively large rack.

Castiel turns in the direction Dean is pointing and frowns, shaking his head.

“No, thank you.” Cas returns his gaze to his drink before lifting the bottle to his lips.

“What do you mean, ‘No, thank you’?” Dean gapes at the angel, his eyebrows creased in disgust. “That girl is a knockout!”

“I mean, no thank you. I feel no sort of physical attraction to that woman, and I use that term loosely.” Castiel sighs, lifting one eyebrow before meeting Dean's eyes. “She appears to be more artificial enhancement than actual human being. And her brainwaves seem to be lacking a certain complexity necessary to carry out a stimulating conversation.”

You choke on your beer, sending the bubbling, cool liquid straight into your nasal passage and out your nose. Sputtering and grabbing for napkins to get yourself cleaned up, you hear Sam snort; an honest to God snort. You look up, giggling at the look of merriment on your tall friend’s face. Dean’s jaw is hanging slightly agape, and you can’t tell if the look on his face is one of shock or irritation, but you don’t care. The whole scene is priceless.

You sneak a glance at Cas, who is watching the events play out in front of him as one might watch a tennis match, his head tilted to one side.

“What?” His gruff voice is full of innocence, making you and Sam giggle harder.

Dean glares at the two of you before returning his attention back to Cas. He licks his lips and purses them, sucking in a quick breath through his nose before continuing.

“Nothing buddy.” 

“Dean, leave him alone. Maybe hooking up with some chick from the bar isn’t Cas’ idea of celebrating.” Sam hazards a quick sideways look in your direction, and your cheeks flame. Shut up, Sam. Just. Shut. Up.

“I feel like it is my duty...no...my privilege to show him the ropes; teach him some of my tricks.” Dean claps Cas on the shoulder before surveying the crowded room again.  “What about that girl over there? Green shirt, brown hair?”

You follow where he is pointing and the laughter in your lungs comes to a rolling stop as you find the target in question. She is beautiful. Maybe not in a traditional barfly kind of way, but you don’t even have to look at Cas to know he sees it too. Disappointment rains on your previously pleasant demeanor and you struggle to keep your face neutral.

“Oh.” Cas stares at the woman and says nothing else.

You grab your beer and chug the remaining contents, slamming it down and rising to grab another from the bar. Dean smacks a palm on the wooden table and points at Cas, winking at him and clicking his tongue.

“There he is! Alright, what you gotta do when you get there…” Dean’s voice fades away as you approach the bar.

You signal the bartender for another drink, before perching on a barstool. The bartender sets down a fresh bottle, smiling politely.

“Can I get a shot of...something? I don’t care what.”

He nods, turning to grab a bottle. He neatly fills a small shot glass with a clear liquid before sliding it in your direction. You thank him, tipping the drink back with a flick of your wrist, downing the bitterness with one gulp and grimacing. Whatever he gave you burns all the way down your throat and you slam the glass down, grabbing your beer to chase the taste away.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh with some considerable amount of force catches your attention. You whirl around, your senses heightened and your body on alert. Instead of some unimaginable horror, you find Cas, walking toward the table where you’d left him and the boys, rubbing his cheek and frowning. You glance in the direction Cas is walking from to see the woman in the green shirt stand, obviously flustered and rushing to leave. Shit.

You flag down the bartender again and knock back another of the mystery shots before heading back to the group.

“What the hell man? That is not what I said to do!”

“What? What did I miss?” You look rapidly between the three men. Dean’s face is contorted in a look of contempt, his eyes wide. Sam’s large hand is clamped tightly over what you can only assume is a deeply dimpled grin and Cas’s brow is furrowed, a red streak taking shape on the left side of his face.

“Tell her.” Dean crosses his arms over his chest and quirks an eyebrow. “Tell her what you just told us.”  You look at Cas expectantly.

“I told her that she was clearly suffering from various nutrient deficiencies. From her pale skin and swollen hands, she was likely in need of Iron and B12 supplements. I also explained that her current state of constipation could be due to a lack of potassium in her diet and suggested she eat bananas.”

“And was that what I’d told you to say?” Dean’s tone has taken on a very maternal quality. Cas shakes his head ‘no.’ “No. It isn’t even close. What did I tell you to say?”

“But Dean…” Cas begins. Dean cuts him off.

“Ba ba ba...no way. Uh uh.” Dean waves his hands in the air as though he can physically keep whatever excuse Cas is about to use inside of his angel brain. “Repeat back to me what I said. Word for word.”

“‘Have you been to the doctor lately? Because I think you’re missing some vitamin ME.’”

Thankfully, you are too mesmerized by the absurdity of what is happening to have taken a drink, or it would have likely ended up much the same as the last. Shooting beer through your nose twice in one evening is not a record you intend to set tonight.

“Right. Not. Even. Close.” Dean’s finger stabs the table, emphasizing every word.

“Dean. Don’t even tell me that line has worked for you before?” You look at him questioningly. The judgemental look on Dean’s face is replaced by a cheeky, self assured smile and a wink.

“Sure has, sweetheart. A few times.” He finger-gun shoots you, clicking his tongue again and taking a pull from his beer.

You groan, rolling your eyes. Leave it to Dean Winchester to be the one man, in the entirety of human existence, that can successfully use one of the worst pick-up lines you’ve ever heard to get a girl into bed.

Cas looks dejected. A tiny little voice inside your head is squealing with delight. He may be an awkward, dorky little guy in a trenchcoat, but he was your awkward, little dorky guy in a trenchcoat.

Well, he isn’t yours, persay. But you want him to be. You really aren’t sure if he sees you that way; or any woman really. Sure, he’d seemed a little too interested in the porno that he’d watched that one time, but part of you wondered if that was actually Cas or his vessel, Jimmy, that was...uh...stimulated by it.

One time, when you and the Winchesters had been on a hunt, Dean had gone home with some little waifish thing. You’d been drunk and spilling your guts to Sam at the hotel room and you may or may not have admitted your feelings for the blue-eyed angel. True to his word, your friend had not said a word about it since then, but he had given you looks.

Oh the looks that man can deliver! They can speak volumes without a single word ever having been uttered. You assume it has to do with his highly expressive eyebrows…

“Hey there.”

A sickly sweet southern drawl snaps you back to reality and you look up, frowning at the raven haired beauty with the doe eyes that has just approached your table. She, of course misses it, as she only seems to have eyes for Castiel.

“Hello.” Cas’ voice is normally low and gravelly, but in this setting, it sounds way more seductive than you care to hear.

“I need another beer.” You declare. Sam frowns at you.

“You still have like half of that one left.” What he really means is Just stop being a pussy and tell him how you feel. You can make this stop, you just have to talk to him. You know this because the words are practically etched into his hazel eyes.

“Well I am going to finish this one on my way up to the bar.” You glower at him, trying to return the silent eye conversation as best you can. However, instead of saying I swear to Chuck if you say anything I will put Nair in your fancy-ass conditioner, Samuel; you are fairly certain you just look constipated.

You rise, chugging your beer and making another trip to see the bartender. You should probably learn his name if you are going to be visiting him so frequently. Another girl, another shot. This is not going to be a night that ends well.

You return to the table to see Doe Eyes has a long thin arm draped across Castiel’s shoulder, her cleavage practically smacking him in the face.  Maybe she thinks he needs a matching mark on his other cheek. You slump in your chair miserably as the effect of the mystery shots begins to work it’s way through your body.

“I have been trying to show my devastatingly handsome friend here a few tricks about flirting.” Dean smiles broadly at Doe Eyes, whose already impossibly large eyes widen impossibly wider.

“Really?! Oh honey, I’m from the South. Flirting is part of my heritage.” She winks at Cas, who looks like a zebra at a watering hole whose just sensed that there is a lioness waiting for him in the reeds.

He swallows thickly before asking, “What does that mean?”

“Her mother was a slut, too.” The words escape your mouth before you can stop them from tumbling out.

Your first instinct is to mentally pat yourself on the back - you are never that quick with a comeback. But as four sets of eyes slowly turn to face you, your celebration is cut short and replaced quickly with that ‘fight or flight’ feeling.

No one says anything for a long time. You aren’t sure if it is shock or what, but they aren’t moving so you don’t move. Finally, Doe Eyes narrows her gaze at you.

“Excuse me?” Her tone is low and threatening.

Fuck. Flight it is!

You don’t say a word as you scoot your chair back. It’s heavy wooden legs drag roughly across the cement floor, inevitably getting stuck in some grossness on the floor behind you. You wiggle side to side and shove back hard on the chair to try to unstick it. It unsticks, alright. It unsticks itself a little too well and launches you ass-over-tea-cup into the floor with a loud thud.

You scramble to your feet, unsuccessfully ignoring the stares of your fellow bar-patrons as you walk as fast as you can without running toward the exit.

The cool night air is a relief against your fevered skin. You stumble blindly through the parking lot in what you are hoping is the direction of your hotel. The smooth pavement turns abruptly into rocky gravel and the heel of one shoe catches on a stray rock. You lurch forward, eyes clenched shut and arms flailing in a half-assed drunken attempt to break your fall.

You cry out in shock as arms wrap around your waist from behind just before your face smashes into the pavement. Despite the fact that the owner of said arms just saved your life, (at the very least your face) instinct takes over and you begin twisting and thrashing in an effort to get away.

You jerk your right arm backwards and you hear a sickening crunch as your elbow makes contact with, what you assume is, some part of your assailant’s face. The grip on your waist is released and you whirl, hands raised, ready to fight.

However, instead of some Dudley Do-right psycho killer hybrid like you’d expected, you find Cas, a trickle of blood dripping from one nostril. His eyes are wide with surprise and his hands are up, palms out.

“Oh my god, Cas! I’m so sorry!” You rush over to him, digging in your purse for a tissue. Dabbing at the blood on his face, you look up to see him studying you carefully. You swallow hard. “Did I...uh...did I hurt you?” You roll your eyes internally, knowing full well that Angels, even in a weakened state much like Cas is now, don’t feel pain.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, y/n. And no, you did not hurt me.” The bright flood lights overhead reflect in his eyes as he gazes down at you. “You have been acting strange all night and when you left so suddenly, I began to worry.”

You straighten, taking a step backward as the events of the evening roll through your mind. Despite the heat blooming on your cheeks you lift your chin defiantly.

“I’m fine, Cas.”

Nonchalant. That is what you’d been going for. But of course that is not how it comes out. Instead you sound wounded and slightly bitter.

“You called that woman a slut.” Cas’s head tips to one side. “And her mother.”

You sigh, glancing around for a place to sit, Because the ground under your feet has begun to spin slightly. The low retaining wall just behind Cas is perfect, and you nod in it’s direction. He follows you silently and sits next to you, his knee brushing against yours. An electric tingle shoots through you, and you swallow hard, trying to get your brain to focus on anything but his touch.

“Your heart is beating quite fast, y/n. It seems to do that a lot. Have you considered seeing a doctor?”

Mortified, you fix your gaze on your feet. You can't think of a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve admitting the truth, so you just nod.

The silence grows, though it's not a terribly uncomfortable silence. The light din from the bar filters through the trees as the wind rustles their leaves.

“It was Dean's idea.” Cas breaks the silence. You look at him. His arms are stretched backwards, palms resting on the dirt, propping himself up. His legs are extended, ankles crossed, as he squints his eyes into the darkness. Something about his relaxed posture makes him look incredibly human.

“What are you talking about?”

He turns his attention to you, his eyes flitting about your face. You successfully suppress the urge to lean forward and smooth the wrinkles in his brow.

“Trying to solicit attention and sexual advances from women at the bar. Dean seemed to think it was what I wanted.”

There is something about the way he is looking at you that makes your stomach do cartwheels, and your heart feel like it is going to beat out of your chest. He presses his lips together, his gaze sliding down the curve of your neck before settling on your chest.

“Was it?” you swallow thickly and resist the urge to cross your arms over your body.

He shakes his head as one corner of his mouth nudges upward, his eyes still locked on your chest.

“It’s beating very fast now.” He sits up and leans toward you, placing his right hand over your heart. His smile widens, a look of genuine fascination dancing across his face. “Is this because of my proximity to you?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, but at the moment you are trying your hardest to remember to breathe at regular intervals. Apparently you respond favorably to the question, because Cas’ blue eyes shift up to yours. He runs his fingertips up the line of your throat and around the curve of your jaw before cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes gently across your bottom lip.

“I think that I would like to kiss you now.” He lowers his head and closes his eyes, his dark lashes fanning out across the tops of his cheeks.

You expect for his lips to feel dry and cracked, possibly a little warm. That is most definitely not the case. They are supple and cool, and they slot together perfectly with your own as he presses them on yours gently, a tentative meeting of flesh. When you press yourself against his chest, molding yourself to him, he accepts that as his cue and deepens the kiss. His fingers tug lightly at the hair at the base of your neck and his tongue explores yours.

Your lungs beg for oxygen and you pull back.

“What was that for?” you manage to croak out between heaving gasps for air.

“That’s because you are the only girl I want to solicit attention and sexual advances from.”

Scrunching your nose, you gawk at him. Was that a compliment? What is happening right now?

“Um. Thanks?”

Cas chuckles lightly, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he looks away.

“You are welcome.” he turns his attention back to you, his eyes shining with mirth. “So, did it hurt?”

“What?” You pull back, tilting your head to one side. “Did it hurt?” He repeats, carefully pronouncing each word.

“Did what hurt? The kiss? No, it was perfect…” Castiel interrupts you.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” The corners of his lips twitch as realization strikes you, a smile breaking out across your face. He drops his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers with your own.

“Are you trying to hit on me with one of Dean’s pickup lines, Cas?”

“I learned that one from watching a television program.” His smile dims slightly. “Although, I am not particularly fond of it.”

Your brows knit together in question as you rub small, soothing circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Why not Cas?”

“As one who has actually fallen from heaven, it is a wholly unpleasant experience. I still have not fully recovered.”

You nip the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. This man...this angel, he is so beautiful. His innocent, almost naive nature is so pure, it makes your heart swell with joy, despite the painful sincerity of his words. You place your hand on his cheek, urging his eyes to meet yours.

“Well, I think you are perfect exactly the way you are, Castiel.”

“And I you, y/n.” He stands, extending his hand to you and grinning like a fool. You accept and rise to your feet. The world starts spinning, so you pause until it stops before stretching up and kissing him.

Your body surges with desire as one hand grips the back of your neck and the other finds your hip before cautiously gliding over the curve of your ass. You moan just before he pulls away, still close enough that the tips of your noses are touching.

“Would you like to go back inside?” His breath is warm against your face.

“Actually, I was thinking we could go find the Impala.” Smiling, you bite your bottom lip.

Cas’s face screws up, confusion creasing his brow as his eyes shift side to side.

“But our friends are inside and Dean has the keys to his vehicle…”

Reaching for the hand woven through your hair, you place it on your chest over your heart. His expression is the perfect mixture of shock and understanding. As you gaze up at him through your dark lashes, you see the way his pupils blow wide with lust. A light sheen coats his brow as his grip on your ass tightens.

“Oh. Yes. I would like that very much.” His already low voice has dropped and the raw sound makes your core twitch.

“Come on, feathers. Dean said he wanted you to pick up a girl. He just didn’t say which one.” You wink at him, before grabbing his hand and dragging him in the direction of the car. “And he didn’t say where you should end up!”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love you guys - stay weird!): @wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen

Pond Tags (Cas): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @for-the-love-of-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofhazel @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @melbelle45

[masksandtruths]

Mandaaaaa, I LOVE this, you hear me?! L-O-V-E...love it. Cas's dialogue was so spot on and the humor was top notch. The whole thing was just so darned cute and sweet and witty, and that ending was perfection. On a scale of 1 to 10 I give it an 11!!

Wing Man

Characters: Cas x Reader, Dean, Sam

Warnings: Cheesy Pick-up Lines, Fluff, Cas

Word Count: 3,388

A/N: I wrote this for two different challenges that I just felt like went way too well together. The first is @impalaimagining’s Cheesy Pickup Line 4K Follower Celebration. The other is for @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps 1.5K Golden Girls Challenge. I love the themes of both of these challenges and I truly hope that you both enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Congrats to you both on your amazing milestones! The prompts are bolded below.

A/N 2: Beta’d by two of my loves - @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie. Where would I be without you two? Thank you both - I love you!

Tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added to my tags list, just send me an ASK. And as always - Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

(Italics are internal thoughts - kind of. The gif is not mine.)

Wing Man

“OK, what about her?” Dean motions to a petite blonde bombshell, with, what appears to be, an expensively large rack.

Castiel turns in the direction Dean is pointing and frowns, shaking his head.

“No, thank you.” Cas returns his gaze to his drink before lifting the bottle to his lips.

“What do you mean, ‘No, thank you’?” Dean gapes at the angel, his eyebrows creased in disgust. “That girl is a knockout!”

“I mean, no thank you. I feel no sort of physical attraction to that woman, and I use that term loosely.” Castiel sighs, lifting one eyebrow before meeting Dean’s eyes. “She appears to be more artificial enhancement than actual human being. And her brainwaves seem to be lacking a certain complexity necessary to carry out a stimulating conversation.”

You choke on your beer, sending the bubbling, cool liquid straight into your nasal passage and out your nose. Sputtering and grabbing for napkins to get yourself cleaned up, you hear Sam snort; an honest to God snort. You look up, giggling at the look of merriment on your tall friend’s face. Dean’s jaw is hanging slightly agape, and you can’t tell if the look on his face is one of shock or irritation, but you don’t care. The whole scene is priceless.

Keep reading