#writer!dean

[profoundbondfanfic]

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 by MittenWraith (@mittensmorgul) Rating: Mature Word Count: 63k

For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409. Through a ridiculous series of coincidences, it could be the best thing that ever happened to either of them.

The fluffy pining in this one is enough to form its own forest. Park ranger and secret writer Dean and socially inept librarian Cas really shine in this two person love triangle.

They are both so earnest in person and in writing and it's clear early and often that they will be so good together if they just get out of their own way. It was miscommunication with a touch of longing in person combined with a sweet vulnerability when they corresponded that had me wanting to lock them in a room until they figured it out.

This is the perfect comfort fic for when you need some soft pining with a soft landing.

[virtu4l-archieve]

and this, your living kiss || opal_bullets

rating: explicit

audio length: 7 hr. 5 min.

ship: dean/cas

tags: poetry, writer!dean, professor!castiel, college au, john winchester's a+ parenting, mentions of past prostitution, mentions of cancer, angst with a happy ending

summary: after years of no longer writing poetry under the name jack allen, dean begand to crave a sense of being alive again. he suddenly decides to move in with sam and elienne, along with their son jack. searching for answers dean reaches out to his old mentor, missouri moseley, who recommended dean to audit an advanced college course in poetry taught by professor castiel novak. who happens to not only be devastatingly handsome and see something in dean, but happens to also be academic’s expert on jack allen.

um does anyone have any poetry recommendations? i’m searching for the similar highs i get from hearing jack allen’s poems. read this fic. read this fic. read this fic. actually- listen to it instead! atylk is known as a classic deancas fic- AND ITS FOR A REASON! i loved it found myself shrieking and talking to myself out of pure excitement as i listened. (god bless podfics!) i’ll definitely listen to it again in the future. xx

[dragonpyre]

Ever look at a character and think “man, I wish the writers didn’t hate you”

[writerstruggle]

me whenever something happens

[colmiillo]

I'm not just a bitch, I'm a bitch with a backstory

[anundyingfidelity]

(drawing too)

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[annmariethrush]

CAS IS GONE AND DEAN SUDDENLY WANTS TO KILL HIMSELF??? A THING WHICH THEY EXPLICITLY STATE IN THE EPISODE??? THAT DEAN WANTS TO DIE?? AND THEN HE FINDS OUT CAS IS BACK AND ITS LIKE THE WHOLE GODDAMN WORLD IS MADE OF SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS?? THEY ALMOST ROMEO AND JULIETED THESE BITCHES!!! CAS WAS ALREADY ALIVE AGAIN. DEAN FINDS OUT WITHIN AN HOUR OF GETTING REVIVED AGAINST HIS WILL????

THEY ALMOST ROMEO AND JULIETED DEAN AND CAS ARE YOU FUCKING ME???

[strngedve]

We know Castiel is based on Cassiel the archangel but my favorite little headcanon is that he was the archangel Cassiel.

He was created as the angel of Saturday, patron of the vulernable and the overlooked, the angel of tears, angel of temperance.

But that was it, wasn't it? Castiel lacked temperance -- He could never be like the other angels, God hadn't created him to be a warrior like his brothers; Cassiel was a gift to humans, the angel of strife and duality, something so fundamental to humanity. The only angel who could really understand them. The angel who sat and watched, waiting to be called upon to deliver peace. Cassiel was God's love for humanity. How could God not know Cassiel would get too close, too involved with humankind? Maybe he did, but he could never know his own love would ever defy him. Maybe he could never know that whatever he burned with his divine love was also scorched with his divine wrath, enough of it to break ranks when he finally tired of watching Heaven play with the Earth.

So God punished him, bent him into the shape of a solider and named him the shield of God as a reminder of what his role had always been. But Cassiel was special, he would always be special, so he disguised Cas, protecting him from the persecution of the other angels. Maybe he even wipes it all from Cas' mind, gets rid of the memory of rebellion before Cas can hurt himself with it again.

And Castiel does it right this time. He stays just as detached as he needs to be, he protects only who he needs to protect, he does only what he is told to do. So God gives him another chance, another opportunity to prove himself with something big, the perfect task for his angel of the vulnerable.

Go fetch Dean Winchester.

What could go wrong?

[strawlessandbraless]

Godstiel but he was crazy horny and obsessed with Dean. Going around preaching the good word of Dean and reading from the Winchester Gospel (supernatural books). He’d put Dean Winchester on all the stained glass windows and replace Jesus on the Crucifix with Dean on the Rack.

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

[adhd-as-my-personality]

So what you’re telling me is that John Winchesters move for Mary was to tell her he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, and Dean decided totally no homo to record a mixtape of his 13 favorite Zeppelin songs and give it to Cas. Peak besties behavior. Excuse me while I go cry in a corner.

[castiels-undercoat]

Supernatural really came into it's own when they totally gave up on Deans whole "one night stand with random women" thing and just started writing Cas and Dean as a couple.

[writerstruggle]

nothing is better than a well-written heavy angst fic

[supernaturalsidepiece]

NOO DONT BE DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE YOU'RE SO SEXY AHA.

[archiveofvirtue]

BETWEEN THE LINES ⸻ dean winchester

content / dean winchester x fem!reader, hunter!reader, enemies to friends-lovers, bickering, teasing, dean being a lil perv, comfort, fluff, dean being vulnerable, 2.3k words

summary / you and Dean hated eachother, but what if a single night in a shared bed suddenly changes everything? and sudden confessions making you question the dynamics between you two more than ever..

Dean’s Impala rolled to a stop, headlights cutting through the night as he pulled into the lot of a seriously sketchy-looking motel. You glanced at the flickering neon sign—“Motel Haven”—and sighed, trying not to roll your eyes too hard. Classic Dean move.

"Of all the motels, Dean," you muttered, climbing out of baby and slamming the door harder than you intended to.

He walked around the car, his face lighting up with that familiar smug grin. "You don't like my choice in accommodations, sweetheart?"

You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "You know I hate when you call me that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied with a grin that made you want to slap it right off his face.

You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to say something that would start an argument you didn't have time for. If it weren’t for Bobby literally demanding you two to work together, you’d be counting down the days until you could go back to your solo hunts. But here you were, chasing down reports of a rogue werewolf pack in a small town, stuck working together despite the mutual dislike.

To you Dean Winchester was infuriating, arrogant, and absolutely full of himself. And the worst part? He was damn good at what he did, which only made you dislike him more.

You quickly followed him into the motel office, where the bored-looking clerk barely acknowledged your presence. Dean asked for a room, and after a moment, the clerk handed him a single key.

"Only one room left," the man nagged, sounding as though he couldn't care less. "Double bed."

Dean suppressed a groan and glanced over at you, looking like you might actually punch someone.

Just then your patience snapped. "You've got to be kidding me," you said, voice laced with disbelief. "There's nothing else?"

"Nope," the clerk replied, his monotone voice sending a wave of irritation through you. "Take it or leave it."

Dean shrugged, as if this wasn't the worst news you’d heard all day. He grabbed the key from the counter and turned to you with that insufferable smirk. "Looks like we're bunking together, sweetheart."

You grabbed your bag and stormed out. Just when you thought this job couldn’t get worse. The idea of sharing a room with Dean Winchester was already bad enough, but a bed? This was some kind of sick joke.

When you two walked into the room, it was worse than you’d expected. The double bed took up most of the space, leaving little room for anything else. You could feel Dean's eyes on you as you both realized the inevitable.

He was the first to break the silence. "Guess we'll be getting cozy tonight," he said, trying to hide his amusement.

You shot him a sneering glare. "You lay one finger on me, and I'll break it."

Dean just chuckled, tossing his bag onto the bed and kicking off his boots. "Relax, princess. I'll stay on my side."

You wanted to punch him. Instead, you grabbed your bag and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door behind you, not realizing that it snapped back just a little, leaving it slightly ajar.

You needed to change into something comfortable and try to ignore the fact that you were about to spend the night in the same bed as the most irritating man you’d ever met.

Dean stretched on the mattress with his hands behind his head, and couldn't help but glance toward the door when he heard you moving around.

Through the slit in the door, he caught a glimpse of you slipping out of your tight jeans and into a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants. Your shirt came off next, replaced by a simple tank top that hugged you in ways that made his heart stop. Dean's eyes lingered longer than he intended, drawn to the way your body moved with unconscious grace.

You were still trying to push down the anxiety that was beginning to bubble up inside you. It was just one night. You could handle it. You could handle anything. But you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

That's when you noticed him. But it wasn't until you turned fully and caught his eye through the crack in the door that Dean realized he'd been staring. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly looked away. For a second, you froze, a mix of surprise and something you didn't want to name running through you. Then, annoyance took over.

"Really, Dean?" You said, voice cutting through the silence. You could see the way he flinched, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Didn't think you were that much of a pervert."

Dean's face turned red, and he stammered out some half-baked excuse. "I—uh, I wasn't—"

"Save it," you interrupted, stepping out of the bathroom with a satisfied grin. "You're not as sneaky as you think, Winchester."

He looked so flustered, so unlike his usual cocky self. Dean groaned, cursing himself for getting caught. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, something that rarely happened to him, and the fact that you were obviously enjoying this only made it worse.

The great Dean Winchester, brought down by a little harmless teasing.

"Oh, this is rich," you continued, unable to resist twisting the knife just a little. "Dean Winchester, the big bad hunter, getting all flustered over a little peek. Who knew you could get so shy?"

Dean's jaw tightened, and you could tell he was struggling to regain his composure. "I wasn't flustered," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "Just surprised, that's all."

"Uh-huh," you replied, letting the moment stretch out just a little longer before finally dropping it. "Sure you were."

You climbed into bed beside him, still grinning, and Dean felt the mattress dip under your weight. The closeness was suddenly overwhelming. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed you before—he had.

You were tough, smart, and definitely attractive. But you were also infuriating, always pushing his buttons, always getting under his skin. So the fact that he was attracted to you only made things more complicated.

Finally getting into bed, you stretched out as much as possible to keep your distance, but it didn’t help. The bed was just too small, and you could feel him lying next to you, close enough that it was hard to ignore his presence.

The room fell into silence, which only made the whole situation feel stranger. Trying to ignore him wasn’t working, and after a few long minutes, you couldn’t hold in the thoughts that had been building up in your head.

"Why do we do this?" You asked, your voice softer than he'd ever heard it.

Dean turned his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"This," you said, waving a hand around vaguely. "This life. Hunting. It's dangerous, it's lonely...it's hell, half the time. Why do we keep doing it?"

You haven’t meant to ask him that, hadn't even meant to bring it up, but now that the words were out, you couldn't take them back. And somehow, you found yourself genuinely wanting to know his answer.

Dean didn't answer right away. You could see the gears turning in his mind. It was a question he'd asked himself more times than he could count, but hearing it from you somehow made it feel heavier, like the answer actually mattered.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more thoughtful than you’d ever heard it. "Because it's all we know. Because we're good at it. And because if we don't, who will?"

You nodded, considering his words. "Yeah, I guess that's part of it. But sometimes I wonder...what if there's more to life than this? What if we're missing out on something better?"

He turned to face you, his eyes surprisingly gentle. "You think about getting out?"

"Sometimes. But it's not like I have anywhere else to go. This life...it's all I've got."

Dean sighed, and you could tell that he understood exactly what you meant. He definitely knew that feeling all too well. This life had taken over both of you in ways that were hard to explain. And yet, here you were, still in it together.

"It's not all bad," Dean said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, you've got me for company, right?"

You rolled your eyes, yet not being able to hold back the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Lucky me."

Both of you fell silent again, but this time it felt different, less tense. Dean could feel the connection between you, something deeper than the constant teasing and bickering that usually defined your relationship. It was like you were finally seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time.

Dean hesitated before he shifted. You felt the mattress dip as he moved closer, your body stiffening, not sure what to expect, but then you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. He expected you to pull away, but you didn't. Then, almost instinctively, you turned your hand over and laced your fingers through his.

The gesture was simple, but it felt like so much more.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah?" You whispered back, heart pounding in your chest.

"I know we drive each other crazy," he began, his words slow and genuine. "But...you're a hell of a hunter. And you're tough. And smart. And...I respect the hell out of you, even if it doesn't always seem like it."

His words took you by surprise, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. But then you looked at him, really looked at him, you realized that he meant every word.

"I respect you too, Dean," you said quietly. "Even when you're being a cocky bitch sometimes."

He chuckled softly, and you could feel some of the tension in the room fade. "Fair enough."

Both of you stayed like that, hands entwined, a strange but comforting closeness settling between you. In that moment, something shifted. There was still the banter and the usual irritation, but now you saw something deeper—a real connection you hadn’t expected.

Eventually, you moved even closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Dean stiffened at first, but then he relaxed, letting himself enjoy the closeness. It wasn't often that he allowed anyone to see this side of him.

And for a moment it was strange how natural it felt to be this close to Dean, the man who had driven you insane since the day you two met. Yet, here you were, enjoying being close to each other.

Your mind drifted back to the hunts you had been on together, the near misses, the arguments, the unspoken tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was easier to keep your walls up, to push each other's buttons instead of admitting that maybe, just maybe, there was something more beneath the surface.

Dean was really letting himself fall into the comfort of your touch, then turned his head slightly to look down at you. "You know," he began, his voice quivering lightly, "you're not alone, y/n. I know it feels like that sometimes. But you've got people who care about you. Bobby, me... Even if we don't always show it."

The sudden sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You weren’t used to this, to hearing someone say they cared about you. It wasn't something that you heard often. But here was Dean, saying the words you hadn’t realized you needed to hear.

"Thanks," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot."

Both of you lay in silence, the weight of the words hanging in the air between you. You felt a strange sense of peace settle over you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't just the comfort of being close to someone physically; it was the comfort of knowing that you weren’t as alone as you sometimes felt.

I’m always down for some soft dean !!

feedback and requests are greatly welcomed !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @alluvthegurlz @angelicjackles @lailawinchesterr @nuemanfilms @nxptvn @hischrrypie @sammyluvr