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boykingdom · 3 years

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Dean doesn’t have to drive far before he finds Cas. He’d had a hunch Cas might be waiting for him no matter the direction he went, but still he can’t help the sigh of relief he lets out when he sees the slump of Cas’ shoulders among the trees.

He doesn’t have to walk far, either, once he’s pulled the Impala into the grass beside the road and let the metal door shut behind him with a creak. He’s in the forest after a few paces—it’s a pretty forest, all green and overgrown, the tan of Cas’ coat standing out purely for its dullness. Cas’ back is to him and he’s looking down at something, hands in his pockets, but the rigidity with which he holds himself gives away his awareness of Dean’s presence. Cas won’t turn toward him but will angle his head so Dean can see the sharp line of his cheekbone, like he’s any sort of thing that would need ears to gauge how close Dean is.

Dean has half a mind to hesitate, to stop and take a deep breath and collect his thoughts or something, but he’s so fucking tired of not being near Cas and of schooling how much he gives away to Cas in every conversation that he walks up so their shoulders are inches apart and he doesn’t think twice about it. He looks down to take in what Cas is looking at and finds a small pond with a few muddy-gray fish scooting their bellies across the silt. Dean thinks Cas might be gearing up for a speech about the fish and creation and humanity, something nice and cinematic to bookend their journey, but instead Cas says, “Hello, Dean.”

That works, too. At least Dean knows how to respond to that one. “Heya, Cas.”

They’re silent for a second.

“Sam?” says Cas.

“Went off to the Roadhouse. Wanted to see Bobby and Ellen and Jo,” says Dean. “But you knew that already.”

“Mm. I did.”

They both watch the fish drift. One comes close enough to the surface to form gentle ripples in the water.

Then Dean is smiling, because he can see Cas out of the corner of his eye, see the way he shifts and fidgets and is so clearly also looking at Dean out of the corner of his own eye. It occurs to Dean that Cas is nervous—that after everything they’ve been through, after the end of the world, after Cas’ big sacrifice, this angel of the Lord is nervous to speak to his best friend of twelve years. Dean can’t help but take the opportunity to tease him.

“What, did you think we’d never talk about it?”

A pause. Cas half-grumbles, “I thought I’d have a few decades to prepare something to say.”

And then Dean is laughing and laughing and bent over double with it because this whole thing is so fucking absurd and he’s so happy to be standing here next to Cas, weird and awkward Cas who pulled him out of Hell and told Dean he was in love with him just months ago. Cas who he thought he had lost forever. Dean laughs so hard he cries and then he—he cries, and cries, and he’s not laughing anymore. It happens fast and hard. Cas finally turns to him, eyes wide and hands suspended in front of him like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch. Dean’s sniveling and holding his jacket sleeve under his nose so his face doesn’t get all snotty but he probably looks fucking gross anyway, the way the tears won’t stop coming. Cas says, “Dean?” all worried and concerned. Dean practically falls forward into him, wraps his arms around Cas’ waist to clutch at the back of his coat and shakes when Cas immediately holds him in return.

“I missed you so bad,” Dean sobs into Cas’ shoulder. “I missed you so bad. I thought I would never see you again. I missed you so bad.”

“Oh,” Cas breathes. “I’m here. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Cas hugs him tighter, leaving no spaces between their bodies. His voice breaks a little when he says, “I missed you, too.”

They stand like that for a moment. The forest buzzes around them, twiddling with birds and squirrels and insects. Dean breathes Cas in, feels him warm and safe and real in his arms. It’s a small piece of Earth here in Heaven. Unlike any other time before, Dean lets himself lean into it, touch Cas without Death looming over their shoulders. It feels good.

Dean does calm down after a few minutes, and as much as he would love to freeze time and stay suspended in that moment, he knows he can have even more if he gives it one last push. He pulls away, Cas’ hands sliding off his coat, lingering. “Sorry,” he says, a little embarrassed despite himself.

“Don’t be,” says Cas, in a way a that shows he really means it. Dean clears his throat and looks at him. Cas looks back. The whole thing is so achingly familiar, so akin to how they were when they first met. Even when Cas was alien and unknowable and potentially a threat, Dean always had to stifle the breathless thrill of having Cas’ attention. He doesn’t stifle it now.

He hasn’t quite internalized all the things Cas said to him, but he can see Cas was telling the truth about one thing—he is clearly so happy to be standing at the edge of this pond with Dean. Nothing in his gaze is asking for something more.

And as much as Cas would argue differently, Dean isn’t as good as him. He was never content just wanting. He had long ago accepted that he could never have Cas, sure, had recognized that he would spend the rest of his life with a horrible ache in his chest, that he would white-knuckle the wheel of the Impala to keep himself from touching. But he couldn’t find peace with it. Love rotted in him like a body at the bottom of a well. He spent a long time thinking it would kill him and kill Cas too, that it was a weapon to be used against them both, that the heat of his gaze would actually burn Cas if he looked long enough. He still has to choke down those half-formed thoughts when he looks at Cas now and can see in his eyes that he loves Dean without reservation, that despite everything he doesn’t think of Dean’s love as a death sentence. That he wants him.

Dean’s mind was made up the second Bobby had mentioned Cas’ name on the porch. It took him too long to untangle that part of himself that couldn’t separate loving men from danger, but he did untangle it, in the end.

“I know I can do it,” Dean says, both to Cas and to himself, “but I think it might be hard.”

Cas’ brow flickers in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he answers, gesturing lamely at the two of them, at the space between them. He swallows, steels himself, thinks of all the words he spent the nights since Cas died murmuring into his pillow, deliriously drunk. “I don’t know— I don’t know how to be this to someone— to you. I’ve never— and you’re—”

He’s getting frustrated, is upset that after thinking so long and hard about this moment for so many years he somehow still doesn’t know how to explain to Cas how much he means to him, how much he wants him, how hard it is to beat down his self-hatred and accept that he might just deserve Cas, too. But Christ, he wants to try.

“Dean?” Cas says. Dean can see in his expression the flowering bud of hope. He is so beautiful.

“I love you too,” Dean says, because it’s the best explanation he can give. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat. Cas blinks; his mouth drops open. “God, Cas, you have to know that. Of course I love you too.”

“You mean...?” Cas can’t finish the question. He’s looking at Dean like a man finding faith, finding Heaven. Dean feels so overwhelmed and so happy for the two of them and surely he’s still red from crying before, but again he feels himself burning.

“I’ve been yours,” he chokes out. “You can have me. Please.”

Cas kisses Dean. It happens so fast that Dean feels it coming rather than sees it, feels Cas’ hands on his face, feels himself be tugged forward. Cas’ hands are shaking and Dean’s are too when he grips the front of Cas’ shirt and the back of his neck, eyes closed tight, learning the shape of his mouth. It’s hard and a little desperate and not at all artful, and Dean’s whole self feels a bit like an open wound but Cas is healing him, like he always has, like he has since the beginning.

Dean pulls away for air but doesn’t pull far, keeping his forehead pressed to Cas’ and his eyes shut. Cas’ thumb strokes his cheekbone. “Dean,” Cas says, and Dean takes a deep, shuddering breath. The way Cas says his name doesn’t scare him anymore.

Dean opens his eyes. He smiles. “Hi,” he says.

Cas smiles back.

They’re sitting in the Impala, Dean’s hand on Cas’ thigh, when Cas asks, “What do you want to do now?”

Dean pauses, thinks. The answer to what do you want has been Cas for so long, but he never let himself think far enough to decide what he would do if he ever got him. He’s safe, Cas is safe, Sam is safe. Realistically, he shouldn’t want for anything.

He looks out the Impala’s windshield, smooths the hand not holding Cas over the steering wheel. He knows that he loves this car with everything he is—that for a long time it was the only home he had. He also knows that he’s tired of the road. Desire has always come too easily to Dean.

“I think I’ll build us a house,” he answers, and immediately he knows it’s the right thing to do. They can pick a spot wherever Cas wants—Dean’s not picky. It’ll be something solid, something with walls that he built with trees he cut himself. Something that reflects the home he already built for Cas, the one that lives between his ribs.

Cas’ eyes light up. “I like that plan,” he says. “I want that, too.”

Years ago, Cas had sat in Dean’s passenger seat and asked him if he would rather have peace or freedom. Dean never got the chance to answer him.

Dean leans across the seat and kisses Cas again, open-mouthed, slow. He does it for him now and for the version of himself who mourned the distance between them. It’s answer enough.

#spn #supernatural #deancas #destiel #15x20 coda #i know the finale happened so long ago and also isn't real but i had to try my hand #i'll reblog this when the europeans wake up 🏃‍♀️#my fanfiction

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mochii-derogatory · 3 years

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AU where after Dean dies, he goes on one last hunt to find the angel that saved him. AU where he travels through heaven, and he finds the people and friends he couldn’t save. He talks and reminisces with Jo, Ash and Eileen. He apologizes to Charlie, who just laughs and shakes her head, already having forgiven him years ago, He shares a few bottles with Bobby, cracking up at every failed hunting story, and after he’s done making peace with his own inability to save everyone, a piece of his conscience is put to rest knowing that at least now they are all happy; at least now they are all warm and safe and loved.

But AU where he keeps looking, because as much as he loves his friends, he hasn’t found him yet. In all the places in heaven that parts of his heart have scattered, he hasn’t found the one that holds Cas.

And AU where he starts losing hope. AU where he thinks, maybe he is really gone. Maybe there really is no chance for him to let the stupid self-sacrificing angel know how much he cares for him. How much Castiel had changed him as well.

How much he loves him.

And AU where he keeps looking until Sam shows up. He hasn’t yet let himself rest in this afterlife, and it takes all of Sam’s persuasion skills to get him to take a break. So he does, and he spends some time just... existing. He drives around in the Impala with Sam, allowing him to choose the music just this once. He takes his brother to see the others, watching as his face blurs with regret, sadness, guilt, but then clear into a soft contentedness that Dean hadn’t seen on him in years. They spend their days laughing and happy together- it’s everything Dean ever wanted for him and Sam.

But after a while, Dean starts to get antsy again. He loves not having any obligations to put himself into life-threatening situations. He loves just being able to live simply with family and friends close by. But there is still something- someone missing. There is still that one piece of his heart that if still out there, who knows where, and his heart won’t be full again until he finds it.

So he sets off again, and he drives and drives and drives and drives. And one day he stops at a meadow. He isn’t sure why, he had intended not to stop until he found Cas, but something about the way the light is shining on the grass, and the way the clouds are spreading themselves across the sky, the way the flowers peak through the heavy green in brilliant shades of blues and purples, all seems so... angelic. So he gets out of his car, letting it run so his music mixes with the sounds of this heavenly nature, and he walks through the field. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of the cool grass brushing against his hands and the warm sun on his face. Eventually he stops and sits, eyes still closed, hands running back and forth over the soft earth, and he begins to pray.

He hasn’t prayed since he got to heaven, and even before it was almost only used as a direct line to Castiel, so he didn’t have much hope that it would be heard. But still, he spoke.

He talks about how grateful he is that everyone that he hadn’t been able to save was happy here in heaven, how he is glad that Sam had gotten to live a long life but he feels much more at ease now that he was here in heaven with him. He talks about the little moments in his life, the drives with Sammy, the late night diner trips, the pranks, the laughs, anything that he can recall that has given him even a sliver of happiness.

And then he was talking about Cas, and there was that feeling in the back of his throat that he had felt the day the angel left him. The same day he... confessed to him. And, damn it all, he just can’t seem to stop those couple of tears that slipped from his still closed eyes.

AU where there his a soft brush of a hand on his cheek, snatching up those tears just as soon as they fall. AU where Dean opens his eyes and there he is, illuminated by the now setting sun and smiling sweetly, Castiel.

AU where Dean tackles the bastard with a hug, dragging him into the flowers with him, unsure of where to touch him so his hands slide all over his body, trying to make sure that this is real, that Cas is real and here with him, and Cas laughs. It’s a light and airy laugh, but it may be the best noise Dean has ever heard his entire life and after-life. Eventually, his hands slow, and he rests on top of the angel, knees on either side of his thighs, hands cupping his face gently.

AU where Dean looks into his blue eyes, brow furrowed and lips pinched, and then leans down, ever so slowly, and kisses him. Softly, quickly, lips barely touching, but then over a decade of shoved away feelings burst forth and they kiss again. Tears begin to form in Deans eyes once more and he pulls away.

AU where he holds the face of Castiel, angel of the lord, and smiles.

“I found you.”

#destiel #i just want them to be happy so bad is that too much to ask #fuck c*w #deancas #they are happy and together in heaven and no one can tell me otherwise #supernatural

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wordstrings · 3 years

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TickleTober Day 24: I’m not ticklish (Supernatural)

Reverse!verse (hunter!Cas, angel!Dean, angel!Sam)

Words: 1,100

—

“You are.”

“I’m definitely not.”

“But you’ve gotta be, I rebuilt–”

Cas shouldered past his guardian Nuisance of the Lord. “Yes, you rebuilt me, and now you want to try driving cars and eating ghost peppers and a dozen other equally useless things. Forget this one.”

Dean tipped his head back in despair. “Saaam,” he whined plaintively.

A ruffle of wings backfilled the space where Cas had been standing. Sam didn’t even get a word of greeting in before Dean dragged him, figuratively and literally, into the discussion that had moved from the hall into the bunker’s kitchen.

“Tell Cas he’s ticklish,” Dean demanded. “I put everything back right where it’s supposed to be, I double- and triple-checked. Not a hair or a nerve out of place, because I’m awesome and nobody could’ve put him back together better than I did, tell him.”

Sam seemed to fight back a laugh. “You’re trying to convince him he’s ticklish?”

“He doesn’t believe me!”

Cas sighed heavily as he pulled a carton from the refrigerator and let the door thump closed behind him. “Sam, please talk some reason into him and make him drop it. This is stupid.”

Sam turned to Dean with furrowed brows, and Cas was almost ready to thank him in advance, but then Sam said, “Why don’t you just show him?”

“What,” Cas said flatly, at the same time Dean said, “Oh!”

“Yeah, if it’s that important,” Sam continued, as if this was a legitimate course of action. “Just do a demo.”

“You’re not ‘showing me’ anything, because there’s nothing to show.” Cas moved around the opposite side of the kitchen island to grab a glass from the shelf.

Flap. Dean was suddenly standing in front of him.

Cas decided he could wait to get a drink until this nonsense passed. The carton would survive out of the fridge until the crazy had dissipated. He pivoted and headed towards his room for a little well-deserved peace.

Or, he tried, but another flap put Sam in the doorway, blocking the hall.

Cas rolled his eyes. It was the long way around, but there was another exit out the back of the kitchen.

Flap.

“Seriously?” Cas groaned. “Are you just going to keep me trapped in here until I agree with you?”

Dean laid a look on him like Cas was a particularly slow child who couldn’t pick up what one plus one equaled. Cas threw up his hands.

“I’m not ticklish! I don’t know how else to tell–”

He cut off with an exclamation of surprise. Sam apparently saw an opportunity and took it, flapping in behind him and grabbing his wrists up in the air.

“Nice assist, Sammy. Thanks.” Dean stepped forward with a smile on his face and a flex stretching his fingers.

Cas sighed resignedly and didn’t even bother struggling. Sam would be immovable anyhow, and the quicker this experiment failed, the sooner Cas could get back to normalcy. Watching Dean advance with clawed hands, though, made him want to shrink back. Probably because he’d been subject to the painful, bloody sort of clawing too many times to count. He pushed the instinct away and straightened instead.

“Just get it over with,” Cas groused, “and don’t sulk at me when it turns out it’s no fun to tickle someone who isn’t t–”

Cas caught the rest of the word in his mouth and clamped his teeth down on it.

He’d expected a rough grab around his middle, but the light, single-fingered scritching directly in his armpits threw him off. His back bumped against Sam before he realized he’d recoiled, shoulders curving forward and chin tucking toward his chest.

Dean was grinning right in front of his face. His curled index fingers stroked gently over the fabric of Cas’ shirt, catching just enough friction to tease maddeningly at the hair underneath.

Oh, fuck.

Cas steeled his jaw and his breath. “I’m not ticklish,” he said evenly. “Believe me now?”

Dean tilted his head and studied Cas’ face. He wrinkled his nose. “Mm… nah.”

The single fingers multiplied into full spidering tickles. Cas jerked back again and grunted. Sam’s grip held his wrists firmly above his head, no matter how Cas pulled on them.

He was, perhaps just a little bit, in trouble.

“I can see it, you know,” Dean said cheerfully. “That you’re fighting it. What’s so bad about being honest, huh?”

Cas gritted his teeth. “It just feels weird. Stop it.”

“Nope.”

Dean’s hands began scribbling in little circles around his armpits. Cas’ breath snorted up the back of his throat.

“Getting closer! Sam, do me a solid and lift his arms higher. Yeah, like that.”

Stretched up almost on his tiptoes, Cas silently cursed Sam for picking a stupidly tall vessel. The fresh sense of inescapability seemed to make the situation worse, while Dean’s incorrigible grin branded it all with playfulness. It was harder to fight back a smile of his own as he twitched back and forth.

Dean hummed. “Isn’t there a thing people say when they do this? Some traditional mantra… oh! ‘Coochie coo,’ I think. Is that it?”

The absurdity of it tipped Cas helplessly over the edge. He cracked into chuckles, then snorts, then full belly laughter as his resolve crumbled. He began yanking shamelessly on his arms and scrabbling for purchase with his feet.

“N-naha! Stoppit, s-ss-stahahahp!” He twisted like a wind chime from his suspended wrists but failed to dislodge Dean’s persistent tickle under his arms.

“Not until you admit I was right,” Dean said, smug. His fingers began exploring up and down, from Cas’ upper arms to his high ribs, but always coming back to the center of his armpits to make Cas laugh the loudest.

“Okay, okay! I– hehehe– I’m ticklish! I’m ticklish, stop!”

“See, was that so hard?” said Dean, while Cas panted and reclaimed possession of his arms.

“Yes,” Cas said pointedly. He tossed a dirty look over his shoulder at Sam. “Don’t think I’m going to forget this.”

Sam made a contemplative noise and frowned. “If it was hard,” he mused, “maybe you need more practice?”

“I do not need prac–”

Cas hit the floor with two angels piled on top of him before he could even finish the sentence. Just as quickly, he was laughing again, with lively voices and hands urging him to confess why.

Between snorts and protests, Cas vowed his revenge – after he won back his breath and dignity, at least.

#tickletober2020 #tickle fic #ticklish!Cas #ler!Dean #tickling #Supernatural #reverse!verse #human!Cas #angel!Dean #angel!Sam #Castiel #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #gen #stringswork

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canniballistix · 3 years

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consider: Over the hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin as a complete characterization for Dean and his Happy Ending (tm) with Cas

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

It was a phrase that had popped into Dean's head one day as his fingers fumbled along the frets of the acoustic he'd picked up cheap.

He didn't mean heaven-heaven. At least he didn't think so. No, this was more like when those old-time Hollywood crooners would sing about heaven.

Maybe heaven was a feeling. Maybe it was a woman. For Dean, it was the open road.

Not the road-road. The idea of a road. Like that poem: two roads diverged in a wood, and Dean Winchester could at last choose which to take. He would take the road less-traveled-- at least by a hunter's standards.

He sat on the hood of the Impala. In the sun. The full, hot, direct light of it, feeling it bake his forearms and his cheeks as he plucked away at those shuddering strings.

His fingertips were delicate. Perhaps the most delicate parts of him-- never the target of violence and scarring, never hardened to a callous. He may have had the muscle for steel string, but his fingers cracked and bled and stained the wood.

The most wonderful bit was that, when he did begin to bleed, he could quit. He could put the guitar down and heal patiently, only to pick it up again later.

He could play the notes, but not the rhythm. That was a common issue of his. Everything rolled along so easy when he played slowly, but became a great muddled mess when he tried to play at speed. This song especially had him over a barrel; most difficult right in the beginning. With quick notes, meant to sound casual and not at all technical.

If he could just get to the meat of it, it would be all strumming away.

But he could wait. He'd get this part right, and then he'd be home free.

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

He plucked it again. Just the first few notes, quick as he could. Some were quicker than others.

"Agh, shit," Dean muttered.

He scooted back a bit on the hood, feet swinging freely over the asphalt. He bent forward a bit, scrutinizing his fingers as they struggled to slide along the strings. They plowed through it again, hung up in the same place as always-- though it was beginning to feel more familiar.

"Dammit." Dean chuckled to himself, then tried again.

"You're getting better at that."

"Christ!" Dean jumped a bit. He'd never be used to that, as much as he tried to be.

Castiel smirked. "Good guess, but unfortunately no."

Dean returned the easygoing smile. "That's only 'cause you've never heard this song," he said, gaze rolling back down to the strings as he played it again.

Cas leaned against the car beside Dean. He, too, peered down at the neck as Dean's fingers stumbled through the notes. "I'm sorry?"

"The song," Dean said, strumming over the strings very gently. "It's sounds good 'cause you've never heard the real one."

"Of course I have," Cas said. "It was on that tape. The Zepp Tracks tape."

Dean paused the practice to sift through his memories. "God, you kept that?"

Cas smiled and looked down at his hands. "Ah, well. A boy I liked gave it to me," he said coyly. "I couldn't get rid of something like that."

"And exactly how many times did you listen to that tape?" Dean asked. He was grinning like an idiot, now, though he feigned a focus on his playing. "I'm guessing more than once or twice?"

"Enough times to recognize the opening notes of Over the Hills and Far Away," he said matter-of-factly. "Even a little slow and a little off the beat. Is that too many?"

Dean shook his head. "No, sir. Not for any of the tracks on that tape," he said. "No such thing as too many."

"Hm." He nodded. "That's what I thought, too."

Castiel listened patiently as Dean worked through it again. And again. Over and over, the notes falling all over each other like crabs in a bucket. Getting closer all the time.

It was a beautiful day. A beautiful day for playing guitar and smiling and maybe, just maybe, singing along.

In heaven, there is time to learn guitar.

"You know," Castiel said at last, shifting ever so slightly, "if you wanted to learn faster, I could heal your fingers."

"Not the point, Cas," Dean said, jolly as always.

Cas tilted his head. "Isn't the point to learn?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah. Well-- sure, I guess. But…" He ran his fingers down the neck before dropping his hand to his knee. "I mean, I think the real point is that I've got time, now."

"Hm." Cas nodded slowly.

"I'm not… God, I'm not rushing to get it all in before I die," Dean said, though his words were choked off by something between a laugh and a cry. "Waiting around for wounds to heal is a luxury, Cas. I'm gonna enjoy it."

Cas scoffed. "That sounds more than a little masochistic."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's not, it's not. It's-- God." He lifted the guitar strap up over his head and set the thing down on the hood beside him. "Y'know who had callouses on his fingers, Cas? Johnny fuckin' Cash."

"And…" Castiel squinted. "You want to be like Johnny Cash?"

"Johnny Cash lived," Dean continued, unphased. "He's been everywhere, man-- and I wanna go everywhere, too."

"Dean, you just bragged to me yesterday about having visited a Biggerson's in every state."

"And I stand by that accomplishment," Dean said, chuckling again. "But I've done all that. I've done that stuff so many goddamn times. I've driven back and forth across this country, and I've died more times than… I dunno. Batman, probably."

Cas shook his head, but couldn't hide his smile.

"Y'know what I've never done?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"I've never learned to play guitar," Dean replied. "I've never tried to bake a pie. I've never, in all the time I've lived in that stupid library, read the Lord of the Rings-- and I've never once spent a guilt-free day in pajamas."

Cas gave Dean a sideways look. "These are high are on your to-do list, Dean?"

"Man, shut up…" Dean gave Cas a playful shove, and Cas accepted it faithfully. "You know what I'm saying. All my life, I've been one thing. And I've been it really, really well."

"That you have," Cas agreed with a bit of a nod.

"And the best part about being done is that I… I can be someone else." Dean looked down at his hands, at the unfamiliar cracks on the pads of his fingers.

Cas nodded. "I know you're talking about being a hunter," he said. "But I think that would apply to other things, as well."

Dean swiveled around to face the angel-- or maybe not-so-angel-anymore. Castiel cast a glance over his shoulder at Dean, now cross-legged on the hood of his beloved car.

Cas very subtly uncrossed his arms and rested one hand on the hood. Dean unflinchingly reached out and took it in his own.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean's fingers danced along Cas' much in the way they had leapt between the frets on his guitar. "Such as?"

Cas clucked his tongue. "Womanizer, perhaps," he suggested wryly. "Soldier. Martyr."

"And thank God for that, huh?" Dean leaned forward slightly, and pressed his forehead into the space between Castiel's shoulder blades.

They sat like this a while. Dean's fingers wormed between Castiel's, and they interlaced with practiced ease. The sun was warm on them-- enough to burn the back of Dean's neck, but he hardly noticed. Castiel was warmer than the sun, he thought.

"I was so tired, Cas," Dean whispered.

"I know."

"There were times I thought I--" He choked on the words. "But I didn't. I'm still here."

Castiel squeezed his hand gently. "I'm glad."

"I didn't think I'd be able to do it, y'know?" Dean said.

"Me neither," Cas said. "I didn't think I'd be able to, that is."

Dean lifted his head. "It's like coming home from a war, isn't it?" he said. "I read a great book about that once. Long time ago."

"Did you?"

Dean nodded, though Cas couldn't see. "I mean, I don't remember what it was called," he said. He ran his thumb over the back of Cas' hand. "But I-- I remember the guy who came home just drove around. All day, all night. Ate at drive-through restaurants and chatted up girls and listened to the radio. He didn't know what else to do with himself, y'know?"

Castiel chuckled. "Sounds familiar."

"Maybe."

Cas pulled his hand away from Dean's.

Dean leaned back a bit as Castiel turned to face him, both hands on the car's hood-- one on either side of Dean's folded legs.

They stayed here, frozen, for a very long moment. Hardly a foot between them.

"I'm gonna be okay though," Dean said at last, softly. "You know how I know?"

"How?"

"I have you," Dean said simply. "And we can be veterans of war together. You ever think about learning guitar? Or maybe banjo?"

Castiel sighed lightly. "I don't think you should read Lord of the Rings," he said.

Dean snorted. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"I don't think you'd like the ending."

"You've read it?"

Cas shrugged. "I know more about pop culture than just what you've taught me."

Dean let out a long, low whistle. "Look at the big man, over here," he teased, tugging gently on Cas' tie. "This guy knows the end of Lord of the Rings."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

Cas looked into Dean's eyes for a moment. It was a strange sort of look, like a man sizing up a show horse. It drug on for far too long, Dean thought. Far too long for Castiel to be so close.

"Cas?" Dean repeated.

"I was thinking about kissing you," Cas said.

Dean's heart caught in his throat. "Uh. That your way of asking permission or something?"

"I just figured…" Cas cleared his throat. "Well--seeing as I hadn't before--I should say something."

Dean nodded slowly. "You don't have to get all hung up on thinking about it," he said.

But, even if he had, it would have been okay.

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

#sorry if the spacing is weird #and also just in general i guess #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #spn fic #spn fanfic

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wormstacheangel · 4 years

Text

Day 7: Domestic

Word Count: 1475

Summary: A few years after God d-worded and family dinners are still a bit weird.

——

Seeing demons now is strange as Rowena has a protection order over them. Dean will quote because he was there when she said it so quietly and scary that even he had chills running up his spine, “Don’t touch my boys. They’re under my protection and if anyone or anything dares touch any wee hair on their delicate heads,” She stopped to scoff as she crossed her legs clearly relaxed when she sat back on her throne. “I’ll just get creative.”

Their Auntie Rowena, well Sam doesn’t like calling her that but that’s what Jack refers to her as now, had demons walking out of rooms when they were near. Or they’ll just get up to introduce themselves and let them know they were just there to eat or enjoy the movie. Which was worse because now Dean can’t just gank the one’s that were being polite to them because it felt weird.

Of course, they had those rogue ones that still didn’t like that the royalty from hell seemed to have a thing for the Winchesters. Crowely and now Rowena, hell even Lucifer and Asmodeus were always talking about the Winchesters. Though he considered the Mom and Son duo more like family, well Crowley was a friend but dying for them kind of earned him the family title.

He liked the rogue ones though, they talked a lot. They are always so personally offended by the Winchester’s mere existence but Dean found it flattering how famous they are getting. Maybe they won’t be remembered by normal society but the underworld, heaven, purgatory, and some hunters from Earth will remember them. Maybe as hero’s, he did kill Hitler after all and not to mention his son killed God himself, so maybe legends will be more appropriate. It’s nice to know their legacy will live on.

“Dean, are you coming?” Cas laced their fingers together as they headed down to hell to visit Rowena. Jack had been asking to come, not wanting to go alone even though he was the second favorite to Sam. “You have been quiet lately. Are you okay?”

They followed Sam and Jack down to hell, something only they could really say. He could also say his kid is God and his husband was an angel of the lord. Of course, he’ll never say this out loud to a normal person but he wished he had a shirt or bumper sticker. Like one of those My Kid is an Honor Roll Student magnets.

“Our lives are weird, man.” Dean quietly said back to Cas as he squeezed his hand gently.

Cas only chuckled, pulling their hands up and kissing the back of Dean’s hand before letting them fall again. “Yes, well, I have never experienced normality in a human civilian way. So this is normal for me. Though, in my thousand years of life,

“Damn, you’re old.”

Cas ignored Dean and continued. “I never would have believed that the Queen of hell would insist on me calling her Aunt. Or that I would be having dinner in hell with said Aunt. Or that I would love her like family. So yes, our lives are weird.”

Dean pulled his husband in as he smiled and kissed his cheek cause he had this damn cute expression with a head tilt and all. He could hear some demons snicker at them and Cas was quick to show off his angel blade as they walked down the hall to the throne room. While they were protected Rowena didn’t say anything about the demons being off the hook and even though Cas was a human now doesn’t mean he’s any less intimidating. He was still the best damn fighter in Team Free Will 2.0. Jack doesn’t count cause he cheats with his powers.

“My wee boys! Look at you!” Rowena walked towards them with her arms stretched out to bring Jack, who already was making a beeline towards her, into a hug. “Oh, how I missed you! How’s my little God doing? Good things I hope?”

Jack nods with a big smile on his face that only grew when Rowena pinched his cheek. “I learned how to create Angels out of scratch. It’s a slow process but now I won’t need human souls like before.”

“That’s my boy!” Sam was next to get the biggest hug, the favorite of the bunch as he is her protégé after all. “Samuel, how’s the wife?”

“Rowena.” He kissed her cheek as a hello as he pulled back to look at her. “She’s good. Hunting something as we speak. She says she looks forward to her next lunch date with you.”

“Oh, glad to hear it! Eileen is a keeper.”

“I think so.” Sam chuckled as he gave her one more squeeze before letting Cas hug her hello.

Cas and Dean’s hugs were quicker than the other two not because they didn’t love the witch because obviously, they did, she’s one of the reasons they’re married now, but because Rowena always pulled away to comment on their marriage.

“Oh look at you two, old married couple!”

“Old?” Dean looks between Cas and Sam before he touched his own face. “I’m not that old. Cas maybe but-”

“Dean.” Cas said in a way that said, Dean for the love of God or Jack whatever just shut up.

The dinner passed by in a blur as they all caught up with each other. Since they are more separated than together nowadays and luckily they weren’t poisoned like the last time they had dinner there. Jack was quick to heal them and Rowena had no hesitation in punishing. Demons say you can still hear the screams of the poor bastard. A reminder apparently.

They promised to visit soon. Jack promised to take her upstairs to visit his throne room that he rarely visits himself because he’s 6 and would rather spend time in his room playing video games.

“Dad’s?” Jack calls for Dean and Cas as they walk over to the Impala, Sam heading over to his truck. “Can I stay over at your house tonight? I don’t wanna work tomorrow.”

“Sure but call Naomi to let her know.” Cas quickly answered before Dean can lecture the kid about responsibility.

Jack’s grin was enough for Dean to swallow back the lecture and instead say, “We can get some ice cream on the way back and maybe have a family day tomorrow? We don’t have a hunt to worry about right now.”

“Can we?” Jack asked and while his kid is God with the capital G he was still his kid. He looked his damn age when he smiled up at Dean like that. Like he just surprised him with a Disneyland trip or something. “Can we go visit Grandpa Bobby? I’ve been spending too much time with Mom that I forget to visit.”

“Sure kid.” Dean puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder and leads him to the Impala. The other world Bobby wasn’t keen on being apart of the family much but since Jack got a new promotion he has visited all their old friends and family. Bobby is the most excited for a grandkid. Barely pays attention to Dean and Sam when they go visit as it was all about Jack when he’s around. Saying something about how Grandparents need to spoil their grandkids while the parents do the hard work.

Yeah. Their lives are pretty far from normal but finally, fucking finally, Dean is in the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

“Can I drive?” Jack asked while looking at him with wide puppy eyes and a tilt of the head, a mix of Sam and Cas things that make it hard for Dean to say no to but Jack forgets one thing.

“Nope.” His Baby is number one priority.

Jack snaps his fingers, making them all flinch, but he just pouts as he says, “Damn, I was sure that would work. Dad Sam told me it would.”

“Maybe if you would have asked for something reasonable like the moon.” Cas jokes as he gets in the passenger seat and Jack slides into the back.

They wave at Sam as he honks at them and drives in the direction of his house, the opposite way from Cas and Dean’s home. The bunker, though it was hard to let go of, is now used as a hunter base. One Sam and Cas run while Dean just stays back to watch. He wasn’t much of a leader but his husband lead armies in heaven, still does for Jack, and his brother was the most trusted in the hunting community.

Dean drives them back to their home with the sound of his brother on speaker because they didn’t just talk for the last 3 hours, while Cas held the phone. The rambling of his family filling the car made him smile. He loved his normal family.

#suptober20 #spn #supernatural #My writing

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles?

Then:

*ahem* Lots of angel and Mark of Cain stuff happened... I guess

Now:

We pick up right where we left off in 9x22. Dean almost kills Gadreel, but Sam and Cas lock him up in the dungeon instead. Sam locks the First Blade away and discovers Gadreel is gone.

Dean’s busy vomiting up blood. Healthy.

Metatron is busy writing his Magnum Opus. It’s a story about “love and heartbreak...and love.” An angel helper is there to show Metatron his new angel radio station --it only allows his voice to play for all angels in heaven and earth. Metatron is delighted.

He gives them a rousing speech of how happy he is that they’ve all joined together under his rule. He tells them that he’s going away, but when he returns, it’ll be glorious.

Sam and Cas take a drive and find a very injured Gadreel on the side of the road. Cas, his powers weakened, heals Gadreel from Dean’s wound. They need his help.

Crowley, meanwhile, is enjoying a nice demon massage. But Dean calls him away.

Dean demands that Crowley tell him what’s been going on with him. Ever since killing Abaddon, he needs to kill, all the time. Crowley tells him the mark is making him kill, and if he doesn’t he will die. As a human, he can’t really survive this curse. Dean tells Crowley that he wants to get to Metatron, but he needs the blade first. He needs Crowley’s help.

Cas, Sam, and Gadreel come back to an empty bunker. Sam tries reaching his brother with no luck. Gadreel thinks that Dean and the blade are their best chance at stopping Metatron. Sam, ever the co-dependent, thinks it’s A HORRIBLE IDEA. They talk about how Metatron is tapping into the angel tablet to gain powers akin to God. They need to break that connection.

The one problem is that the tablet is in heaven in Metatron’s office. Gadreel can get them to the gate. Sam thinks this is also a stupid idea. Cas thinks they have to try.

Insert one unobservant woman getting hit by a car. Lucky for the world, Metatron is there to save her.

Dean and Crowley hit up a local watering hole for the wi-fi.

Crowley is really going through some existential crazies, and Dean’s not ready to embrace their summer of love yet. Dean does see through his angst in regards to Hell though, but is too focused on finding Metatron to dissect Crowley’s issues right now. A couple of Crowley’s demons arrive with a video of what Metatron’s been up to.

Marv’s been saving people’s lives!

Dean gets up to leave, and here’s where things get REALLY DARK. Dean doesn’t eat his cheeseburger.

Cas and Gadreel arrive at Heaven’s portal: a playground. Cas has a plan on getting them inside.

And just thinking about Cas getting the Wookie idea from watching movies with Dean and Sam, and learning from these humans that he’s come to accept as family, just, well, even though so much has been said about it, it all still messes me up a bit. Gadreel doesn’t understand that reference, and Cas has a sad.

Dean arrives at the recently resurrected woman’s home, only to find Sam. Dean refuses to engage his brother. Sam informs Dean that Cas and Gadreel are risking everything to help Dean win this fight. Dean hears “Cas” and records scratches. Sam powers through with their season’s worth of anger and resentment. They have a plan, and Dean’s just going to have to take it. Sam eventually concedes that Dean’s their best shot at Metatron. Crowley decides to bounce.

Gadreel and a handcuffed Cas enter Heaven. They’re taken right to Metatron’s office.

Oh wait, nope. It’s actually Heaven’s prison. (And UGH, Gadreel’s “no,no, not here!” stung a bit.)

Marv heads to a homeless camp to perform miracles. He moves among the people, healing them. Another angel calls him out as a fraud and not human, and then calls him Metatron. The other people rally around Metatron, attacking the accusing angel. HOW DARE! Marv is good and pure! Metatron kicks his angel blade into the fray and someone grabs it up and stabs the other angel. DUDES. There’s no need to go from zero to stabbin’! Light flashes as Metatron grins.

Dean struggles under the thrall of the blade, but tries to wrap himself up in the mantle of gruff normalcy when Sam fills him in on the latest Metatron intel. Dean attempts a half hearted apology for the past few months and Sam attempts a half hearted acceptance. My heart is so warmed? Oh wait, I’m feeling despair at their continued utter lack of emotional honesty. GAH. (This is the show I choose to love!) Dean coldcocks Sam, knocking out that poor boy and his delicate, delicate head. “Not your fight,” Dean tells him and then just...WALKS AWAY.

Up in Heaven, Cas tries to make Hannah see the truth about Metatron. Hannah is TIRED of all the angel deaths. Honestly, PREACH my friend! While Castiel pleads, Gadreel comes up with a very bad idea indeed.

Down on Earth, Dean enters the homeless encampment. He’s immediately greeted by two residents who tell Dean that “Marv” is expecting him. Dean’s directed into a warehouse to find Metatron.

Gadreel is EXTREMELY wound up in Heaven’s jail. “The only thing that matters is the mission,” he says. On this show, that kind of talk is a very bad sign. While Cas tries to calmly reassure him, Gadreel carves a sigil into his chest. Realizing what he’s doing too late, Castiel cowers as Gadreel blasts himself apart. Heaven’s jail crumbles.

Cas emerges from his broken cell and confronts Hannah.

In the old factory, Metatron calmly waits for Dean. He accuses Dean of harboring too much cynicism to be happy, but Dean puts forth his own share of belittling banter. Metatron’s a fake!

Metatron doesn’t care. He rails about God’s insecurity, spinning a story about humanity who will do nothing but bow and scrape for God’s favor even in the face of terrible adversity. He vows that he can save humans. He’s got a mission.

Dean doesn’t care. He’s out to get Metatron for killing Kevin, taking Cas’s grace, and whatever other ills befall humanity. He whips out the blade and does not...look...terribly stable.

Metatron sorts through Dean’s confrontation, concluding that Dean’s stalling to buy Cas and Gadreel time to enact their plan up in Heaven. Jokes on Dean, though! They’ve been imprisoned! The blade shakes in Dean’s hand. They fight.

Upstairs, Cas has made it to Metatron’s study. Hannah’s back on his side! Yeah!

Dean fights Metatron, but he’s no match for “the word of God.” Sam races through the encampment to help his brother. Meanwhile, Dean gets the stuffing kicked out of him.

Dean is looking really, really super not great. But he still summons the strength to reach out a hand to psychokinetically propel the blade to his hand. He sits up. It’s his hero moment!

And…

Metatron stabs him RIGHT through the CHEST. Just...RIGHT THERE THROUGH THE HEART.

Damn.

Everything slows down as Sam watches his brother get stabbed. Dean looks around, seeks his brother out one last time, and then falls to the ground JUST as, in Heaven, Cas dashes the angel tablet to pieces on the floor. UNFORTUNATE TIMING!

This is Our Hearts:

Sam hauls out a blade to stab the hell out of Metatron, but the angel flaps out.

Cas looks up from the desk to see Metatron. Metatron comments on the shattered tablet, destroyed to “save Dean Winchester.” He advances. “You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven but ultimately it was all about saving one human, right?”

Metatron drops the truth bomb: Dean is dead.

Sam is frantic as a not-dead-yet Dean slurs a request for Sam to leave him and get the hell out of there. Sam refuses. Surely there’s a spell or SOMETHING to save Dean? Too bad, Sammy. Dean’s already on board with embracing the sweet release of death if it means he can escape the ill effects of the Mark.

Cas folds his grief carefully into a box and then accuses Metatron of fooling the other angels with his savior routine. Metatron scoffs. “They are frightened little sheep,” Metatron says with dripping contempt, but he will lead them back to leading (and lording over) humanity.

Sam helps Dean walk out of the building and Dean asks him about his sudden change of heart. Sam’s not ready to let him go just yet! “Ain’t that a bitch.” It is indeed a bitch, Dean Winchester.

Metatron prepares to stab Cas, accusing him of lacking the imagination to spin a good story for himself. Cas throws it back at him: Metatron learned to spin a good story...and he narrated the hell out of his nefarious plot WHILE angel radio was on full broadcast mode. Angels storm the study and seize Metatron.

Back on Earth, things are going very badly. “I’m proud of us,” Dean chokes out to his brother right before he dies. Oh dear.

Upstairs, Cas and Hannah lock Metatron up behind bars. She tells him that not killing Metatron is what a leader would do. Cas denies her label. He just wants to be an angel. Hannah reminds him that he’ll die without replenishing his failing grace.

We cut to Sam laying Dean’s body in his room at the bunker and then drinking himself Winchester stupid in the dark library. He drunk-summons Crowley using the setup Dean left behind in the dungeon. TOO LATE, Sam! Crowley’s already in the bunker.

Crowley settles next to Dean’s body and tells him that Sam’s currently trying to summon him. Crowley swears that he didn’t know what would happen when Dean took on the Mark of Cain. But...he didn’t reveal the whole truth. There’s another story about Cain that factors in. Cain killed himself rather than become the killer the Mark was steering him towards becoming. The death didn’t stick. The Mark kept him tethered to the world. Crowley places the blade in Dean’s hand. “Maybe miracles do come true,” Crowley says. Dean is feeling LIFE right now, and not the cold embrace of death. “A new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. Let’s go take a howl at that moon.”

I’m Just a Broken-Quoted Angel:

What can I say? I wear my stress

Who else would he summon? I mean, he and Crowley have been bromancing over the Blade ever since Dean got the mark

Wookie!

You’re nothing but Bernie Madoff with wings

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 9x23 #do you believe in miracles #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel cas #crowley's bones #metatron #hannah #gadreel #supernatural season 9

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lightningbugqueen · 4 years

Text

The Sinner and the Saint

The hunt had gone nicely. Well, as nicely as taking down a nest of over 10 vamps could go. Sam and Jack had volunteered to do cleanup duty, and since there was no need for Dean and Cas to stick around, they had hopped in Baby and started the journey home. No matter how much Cas loved these drives with Dean in his beloved car, out of state cases were starting to get more and more tiresome for the brothers. Cas was even in need of a good four hours, which was a very rare occurrence for an angel like himself. They sat in that familiar, comfortable silence, human and angel, hunter and warrior, sinner and saint. At least, that was what people called them. Cas didn’t see it like that. Dean wasn’t just a human, he was so much more than a hunter, more sinner than a saint. Dean was the beacon of light that guided Cas through Hell. He was the dazzling smile that made this life worth it, the spark of life that thawed the cold, the magnificent being that Cas rebelled for, that Cas fought for, that Cas died for. And he didn’t regret any of it, because Dean, his Dean, made it all worth while. Of course, Dean would never really be his. His best friend, yes. His, no.

Cas really was tired, so he tried to situate himself in a way that was comfortable for him, but not uncomfortable for Dean. Cas was always conscious of how Dean was feeling, he couldn’t fathom even causing him discomfort. Cas would give anything to simply lay his head on Dean’s shoulder, or in his lap, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. That would be crossing the line drawn with “buddy”s, shoulder pats, and “brother”s. So, he just positioned his head against the window, and closed his eyes. He continued to twitch, shuffle, and situate himself until Dean finally had enough,

“Dude. Just put your head in my lap or something. All this moving is driving me nuts.” Cas could barely contain the smile that split his face, but as soon as his head stilled on Dean’s legs, the worries started back. It was going to be that much harder to hide his feelings for Dean if domestic things like this kept happening. Cas may not be the best at interpreting human social cues, but he knew what crossed the line of friendship. He was fairly certain that putting one’s head in the lap of another meant “more than friends”, as Sam had said once. Cas did his best to silence these thoughts, closing his eyes, and slowing his breathing. He focused on the things around him, Dean’s quiet breaths, the rumble of the Impala, and the leather of the seat beneath him. After an hour of Cas doing his best to remain completely still, but never quite falling asleep, he heard Dean start talking. It was very odd, for Cas was fairly certain Dean thought him asleep, and no one else was in the car. Dean started with little mutterings, about Sam, or Jack, or how he was going to wash Baby when they returned. It occurred to Cas that these sentences sounded very similar to the ones that Cas heard when Dean accidentally prayed to him. But soon, Dean’s words became more like he was actually talking to Cas, and at the same time one of his hands found it’s way into Cas’ hair.

“You know Cas, this past hunt scared me more than I told you guys. I never tell you when something scares me, even though I should. I hate using bait. Putting someone in danger so you can catch the bad guy? Dammit Cas, why do we do that? No, I know, it’s better than leaving the vamps to hurt more people, but still. I just hate it. I know it won’t do any good to tell you all this, you can’t hear me, but maybe that’s why. Wouldn’t everything be better with no consequences? No, then people could do bad things then get away with them. Anyway, I was saying that I hated this hunt. And bait. Just, seeing you walk in that barn, unarmed, terrified me. I know you’re an angel, you can smite them all, but still. I can’t lose you. Not again” At this point Cas understood what was happening, and had to stop himself from getting up to comfort Dean. But Cas knew that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to get everything off his chest, and if Cas showed Dean that he was awake, he would be upset. But that comment, that Dean thought about losing Cas, hurt.

“You matter too much to me, Cas. You, Sam, Jack. You’re my family” that word, family, had begun to hurt Cas. Yes, Dean loved him, but not the way Cas wanted him to. But Dean just continued, unaware of the very awake turmoil going on in Cas’ mind.

“ I’ve lost Sam before, Jack too. It hurt, but I kept living. But....those months when you were gone. Purgatory, the Leviathans, working with Crowely, when you were human, even when you were with Hannah, they were horrible. The idea that I couldn’t see you, couldn’t be near you, couldn’t talk to you.....It was so painful Cas. I drank more during those months than I normally do in a year. So please, never leave me again. I love you too much for that.” Cas’ heart stopped. Even though he knew that Dean meant it completely platonically, those words. But, Dean had stopped talking. Correction, Dean had stopped talking in sentences. All Cas could hear now was a constant stream of “Fuck!”s, “Hell”s, and one very articulate, “Son of a bitch!” It confused Cas. Dean had said that he loved him before, why was this different? Then he felt a prodding at his grace. A prayer, but a weak one. This generally meant someone was thinking about him, and accidentally praying, but why would that be happening now? Dean had just been talking to him, there was no need for a prayer. But he went ahead and listened anyway. Turned out it was Dean, but not in the way he thought.

Shit Fucking Hell! Do I? But.....no. No that’s not possible because I am the straightest man to ever heterosexual. But Cas isn’t a man or a woman. He’s a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent! What does that even mean? Can I love him like that? Does it matter? He doesn’t love me. But I love him. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I fucking love him. Shit.

Now, Dean was obviously have a major sexuality crisis, but Cas couldn’t focus on that. Dean loved him. Dean loved him. Dean loved him. So Cas just stayed there, and listened to Dean figure it out.

I love him. Of course I do. How could anyone not? He’s smart and kind and loyal and strong and a freaking angel of the Lord. Oh shit. He’s an angel of the lord. Doesn’t God like, not like gay people? But Cas isn’t human. So it doesn’t matter. Also, Chuck’s a dick. Can angel even feel attraction? I mean, I’m pretty sure Gabe and Balthazar weren’t exactly celibate, but Cas sure is. What if I tell him? Will he hate me?

Dean’s thoughts continued like this for a very long time, and Castiel’s reactions to them ranged from practical heart eyes, to righteous fury, to overwhelming pain at Dean’s self doubt. How could his beloved ever think he wasn't good enough? How could he think Cas wasn’t madly in love with him? Finally, Dean’s though calmed down, and a mantra began in Dean’s head.

I love him. He doesn’t love me. I can’t tell him. I don’t know what to do. I’ll figure it out.

On and on it went, and Cas could barely keep himself from shooting up and kissing Dean. Kissing him until those awful though disappeared, kissing him until he couldn't anymore, kissing him until, without a doubt, Dean knew just how far Cas had fallen for him.

They reached the bunker without Dean saying another word. When Dean got out, Cas remained still, continuing his false slumber. Until, of course, the passenger door opened. Strong arms enveloped Cas’ body, and Dean lifted the angel to his chest, carrying him bridal style. And finally, finally, Cas saw his chance. Right as Dean straightened he mumbled a quiet, calm, “I love you too.”

Dean froze. Cas slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the beautiful man holding him. Dean was staring at him, eyes wide with fear and....wonder?

“You heard?” he asked timidly. Cas just nodded and a small smile made its way on his face.

“All of it” Cas replied, “And uh, your thoughts were prayers.” Dean continued to stare at him.

“And?” he finally asked.

“And I love you. And you are the most amazing and kind and beautiful and strong and loving man I know. And I have wished for years that you felt the same way about me that I do you. And I have fallen for you more than once Dean Winchester.” Dean held his gaze, processing what he had said. He slowly let Cas’ feet fall to the floor, and soon Cas was standing directly in front of him. Dean reached out tentatively, and wrapped his hands around Cas’ neck. They continued to stare at each other, Cas still smiling quietly. Dean pulled Cas’ head forward, until their foreheads were touching. They stayed like this for what could have been seconds or years, until Dean moved his head that fraction of an inch that made all the difference. Their lips touched, and the tension that had been building for 11 years was finally released. This moment was more magical than any spell, any magic, any demon or archangel or witch or ghoul. In this moment two people meant for each other, two people so madly in love that one sacrificed their life for the other, one fell from heaven for the other, finally professed their love. Two people who found their home, their heaven in the each other. Two people, human and angel, hunter and warrior, sinner and saint, finally met in the middle for an instant that would change their lives forever. They found their light in the dark, they hand to hold, their love. And they never, never let it go.

Thanks so much @deano-cas for this amazing prompt. I loved writing this so much!

#Destiel #fic #driving #love confession #angst

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forever-trapped-in-my-dreams · 5 years

Text

No More Goodbyes - Part 5

Title: No More Goodbyes - Part 5

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Soulless!Sam x Reader (mentioned)

Summary: Five years ago, the reader had a one night fling with Sam Winchester. What she didn’t know was that at the time, he didn’t have a soul. Now, she has a new life and a five year old son. When, out of the blue, Sam walks back into her life, everything changes. For the better? To be determined.

Word Count: 2.4k (the longest chapter yet!)

Warnings: angst, some brief descriptions of a wound, SAM WINCHESTER IS SHIRTLESS, tooth rotting fluff

a/n: This is it dreamers!! The last chapter! So remember how I said I was going to post this tomorrow? i just got too excited, okay?? hehe... On a different note, I want to thank you all SO MUCH for the kind feedback and for sticking with me through this short, but fun, journey. You guys are just... so great. I can’t express how much I appreciate every single one of you. Ah, I should probably cut this short or I’ll get super emotional. On to the fic!

Links are being weird right now, but you can check out my full masterlist in my bio :)

The battle started when Dean clashed with a vampire close to the tree line.

Sam called you. “Here.” He pressed the car keys into your hand. “Get yourself and David out of here.” You nodded, turning to go, but something gripped you in your chest, stopping you in your tracks.

Without thinking, you spun back around and kissed him. It was short, and you had to stretch up to reach him, but you poured your heart into the words that followed. “Thank you.”

Before you could over-think, you raced to the driver’s seat and revved the engine. Backing out onto the county road that ran against the property.

“Mommy?” A groggy voice called from the back seat. “What are you doing here?”

“Everything’s alright. Just sit still baby.” You immediately knew you couldn’t just run away. You would find help.

For a few terrifying minutes, there were no signs of anyone on the road. Even David was picking up on enough that he fell quiet.

Your heartbeat quickened when you spotted another vehicle coming down the road towards you. You pulled over, stepping out to wave the driver down.

The man in the driver’s seat wore a tan trench coat that flapped in the wind as he stepped out of the car.

His eyes flickered to the car, and back up to you in confusion. “Who are you?” He asked in a gravelly voice.

“My name’s Y/N. Look, do you have a cell phone? You need to call 911. There are two men back there who are-- I don’t even know.” He looked at your frantic gestures, tilting his head.

“Sam and Dean.”

“H-how...? Do you know them?”

“Yes. Stay here. I’ll go on and assist them.” He turned, coat flying up, back to his car.

“Wait! You don’t know what you’re walking into!” You grabbed onto his shoulder.

With a gust of wind, you were pushed back. “Stay here. I’ll bring them once we’ve taken care of everything.” And he was gone.

-----

Time passed at an agonizing rate. You looked out at the stars, and watched the moon travel across the sky.

David was beginning to fall asleep again when the headlights of the strange man’s car came back up the road.

You jumped out. “Sam? Dean? Are you alright?”

Dean got out of the front passenger seat. His face was slightly bloody, but he looked great for having just fought a horde of vampires.

The strange man stood up. You cleared your throat. “Thank you…?”

“My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.”

You nodded, skeptically. Vampires? Okay. Heaven and angels? That was another deal. “Okay…”

“Oh, come on Cas, you don’t have to be so formal.” When Sam stepped out of the backseat, you embraced him. Then you pulled away from him.

“Why in the hell would you bring my five year old to a vampire nest?!”

“To be fair, we didn’t know for sure that you would be there.” He looked at you with such a sincere apology that you couldn’t stay mad at him.

You took a shuddering breath. “Y/N, are you alright?” You shrugged.

“I’ll feel much better once we are a million miles away and I’ve had about 7 showers.” Despite the situation, you laughed. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe you were just going insane from the craziness of the past couple of days. Whatever the case, you buried your head in Sam’s chest, your laughs turning to sobs.

“Hey…” Sam rubbed your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.” He led you back to the Impala.

When David hugged you, you couldn’t help but harder.

It was there, with David nestled close to your chest, the both of you settled safely in the back of the Impala, that you fell asleep.

---

“Mommy. Pssst!” David was not-whispering again. His breath tickled your face. “We’re home.”

You peeled your eyes open to find his nose two inches from your own. Sam was framed in the open door. “Hey,” you blinked up at him. Yawned.

“You slept through the whole drive. I didn’t want to wake you, but David said you wouldn’t mind.” All at once, the memories of the previous few hours flooded back. You were unsuccessful in trying to set them aside.

“You’re fine.” You took Sam’s hand and slipped out of the car, pulling David out behind you. “I’m sorry that I fell asleep, I --”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled sympathetically. “You’ve had a rough day.”

“God, has it only been one day?” You chuckled darkly. You led the Winchesters and Castiel into the house. The clock above the oven read 2:49 AM. “I think there’s some juice in the fridge if you’re thirsty. And feel free to get anything from the pantry.”

“I want some juice, mommy.” David tugged on your sleeve.

“Nuh-uh. You’re going to bed.” You laughed, shaking your head. David’s little antics were so familiar and you were reminded once again that you were home.

When you tucked David into bed, he reached up and hugged you. “I’m glad you’re home. I really missed you.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.” You kissed him on his forehead, and as usual, he scrubbed it off the moment you pulled away.

You were just closing the door when David said softly, “I really like Sam and Dean. They’re nice. They let me eat a hamburger for dinner!”

You smiled. “Yeah. They’re pretty great, huh?” You blew him one last kiss. “Goodnight.”

You returned to the kitchen to find Dean, his mouth full of mac and cheese. Cas was sniffing a glass of apple juice. Dean swallowed, and nodded to you. “You did good tonight. Most folks wouldn’t have been able to keep their head on if they knew that all this was real.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure that I have.” You laughed darkly. “Where’d Sam go?”

“He went to clean up in the bathroom.” Cas furrowed his eyebrows when he tasted the juice.

“Thanks.” At least you wouldn’t have to worry about running into him after… whatever had happened between the two of you.

You made your way down the hall towards your room. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it. Just as you were passing the bathroom, the door opened with a soft click.

Sam was shirtless. Holy hell, you had forgotten what it felt like to look at him like this. You blushed, as he looked at you with soft eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You smiled nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear. Your eyes caught on his back reflected in the mirror, and you gasped at the nasty cut on his shoulder. “Are you-- do you need help with that?”

“Yeah, I was just going to go grab the med kit from the car.” He gestured with his hand.

“Don’t bother. I have one under the sink. Here.” You carefully slipped around him into the tiny bathroom. After rummaging around for a moment, you stood, med kit in hand.

“Thank you.” He took the kit and pulled out a couple of bandages, glancing in the mirror to judge the size that he would need. “Could you… could you help me put it on? I can’t reach.”

“Oh, sure.” You gave him a warm smile, and gestured for him to sit on the edge of the tub.

Even sitting down he was almost as tall as you. You had him face the tub so you could better reach the gash on his shoulder. You also had a great view of his perfect shoulders.

You had to distract yourself from tangling your fingers in his long hair. “So… Do you enjoy doing this? Hunting, I mean.” You attempted some form of conversation.

He shrugged, then winced. You began cleaning the wound. “I don’t know. It all just blends together. One hunt after another. There’s nothing really to break up the routine.”

“Have you never had anyone special?” He was silent for a moment as you placed the gauze on his shoulder.

“Not really.” Your heart sank. What had you been expecting? For him to say that you were special?

“Can I ask you something personal?” Now you were pressing medical tape to hold the bandage down.

“Sure.”

“What changed?” He turned to look at you.

“What do you mean?” But his tone showed that he knew exactly what you meant.

“Why are you so… different? Last time I saw you, five years ago, I thought to myself, good riddance. But now, you know, I wouldn’t mind having you in my son’s life.” Our son.

“I- well… I didn’t have a soul.” You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

“Vampires, angels, people running around with no souls. What’s next, demons?” Sam awkwardly joined in your laugh.

“So you believe me?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” you said as if it was obvious.

When he smiled at you, you noticed how close the two of you were. The hall bathroom wasn’t very large, and add to that yourself and Sam, it was quite snug. He brought up a hand and cupped your cheek.

Then he kissed you. This time, though it wasn’t rushed. It was slow, passionate. Your hands tangled in his soft hair as he pulled you closer, enveloping you in his warm embrace.

You weren’t sure how long it was before Dean was knocking on the door. “Hey, can you guys hurry up in there? I need to take a piss.”

You pulled away from Sam, laughing. His lips were slightly kiss-swollen and his hair was all mussed up. You were fully aware, however, that you probably didn’t look much different.

“One sec!” Sam called. He kissed you gently on the forehead before settling you back on your own two feet. One hurried readjustment later the two of you exited the bathroom.

You were blushing quite profusely and Sam scratched his neck as Dean raised his eyebrow at you.

-----

The next morning you were awoken by David booping your nose. “What time is it?” You asked groggily.

“Food time!” He declared loudly. You quickly shushed him.

“Shh… Sam and Dean might be asleep.” You weren’t sure about Castiel. Did angels sleep?

You stumbled out of bed and padded down the hall. David trailed after you.

When you looked at the living room, you didn’t see any sign that the brothers had been there. Did they leave without telling you? You would have thought that Sam would let you know they were leaving.

You were just chiding yourself for letting yourself open up to this man, again, when you noticed a note from Sam sitting on the coffee table.

Y/N,

I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good morning. You smiled at the thought of saying good morning to him. We have to run down to the station to make sure everything is in order. We’ll stop at the diner for lunch, but then Dean says that we’ll have to leave. I was hoping you could meet me there? I want to see you before I hope you can make it.

Sam

You looked at the clock. It read 11:37. “David, I need you to go get dressed as quickly as you can. I’m going to take a shower and then we’re going to the diner.”

You were out the door within thirty minutes. Your heart raced. Were they still going to be there? You didn’t have Sam’s phone number. If you didn’t make it, would you even see him again?

To your relief you saw the black car in the parking lot as you pulled in. “Look mommy! That’s the Giant’s car!”

“Yes, baby. Let’s go inside.” You took his hand and led him in.

The Winchesters were sitting at a booth. You noticed that the angel was gone. Sam rose to greet you. “Hey.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling. “Hi.”

“We can’t stay long, but I’m glad you made it.” Sam grinned back at you.

“Hey little man.” Dean looked down at David. “Do you wanna go sit at the bar?”

“Yes!” David ran and picked out a stool. Dean followed, winking at you and Sam.

You chuckled. “Did your brother take my son over there so that we could have a private conversation and if so, did you put him up to it?” There it was again. Our son.

“Maybe?”

“So what’s so important that you had to get the children out of here?” You sat down, placing your bag next to you in the booth.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to talk.”

“You know… I keep calling him mine, but David is your son as well.” You had to get it out before you didn’t have a chance. “And I know that I told you the other night that I was ashamed that he would have a father like you, but now… I really think that he’d be proud to know you were his dad.” You smiled.

“Really?” Sam looked at you with hopefully eyes.

“Yes.” You laughed. “I mean, you hunt monsters on a daily basis. You’re practically a superhero. To him that’s the coolest you could be.” Sam caught your gaze.

“Thank you. Truly.”

“Nah. But I still can’t believe you took my five year old on a hunt.”

“I promise, it won’t happen next time.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“There’s a next time?”

“Well, yeah. If you want. You’d make a pretty good partner. I think Dean likes you.” He winked.

“Sam Winchester, are you asking me to go with you?”

“Yes. It would take a bit to get all the logistics together, but... Are you saying `yes?’” You smiled sure that your face was probably glowing.

You nodded. “Yes!”

“Great, because I was thinking… It would be nice to not have to say goodbye anymore.”

“I agree.”

And right there, when he kissed you across the table, you felt like you had no better place to be.

Once more: Thank you SO much. I love you all. If you would like me to do an epilogue or something, let me know. I had a great time writing this, and I’m so glad you’ve joined me on this ride. If you would like to be tagged in my upcoming fics, send me an ask and I’ll make sure everything gets in order! Thanks again. :)

Mara

Supernatural tags: @coffeebooksandfandom @calaofnoldor @kina666 @malfoysqueen14 @infj-slytherclaw @obsessingovertomanyfandoms

No more goodbyes: @sherlockedtash88 @mr-robot-x @fandom-princess-forevermore @crystallstaircase @becs-bunker @mattiej15 @swiftlymoniquesblog @thatgirlnamedjay410

Sam tags: @swiftlymoniquesblog

#supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader angst #sam x reader angst #sam winchester imagine #soulless!sam x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester

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crispychrissy · 6 years

Text

Thicker Than Water

Summary: You have an addiction that is slowly consuming your life. When the Winchesters pick up your trail, they make you come face to face with what is causing your problem. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, other minor characters Word Count: 2999 Warnings: Angst, language, SPN canon violence, minor sexuality, addiction, mentions of death A/N: This is for @impala-dreamer‘s Titles Are Hard Challenge. I was going to make a fluffy fic of the reader being accepted into the Winchester clan... but this time of year reminds me of a very dark time in my life full of addiction and heartbreak, and part of how I deal with that is through my writing. If anyone out there is struggling with an addiction, just know that it gets better and make sure you Always Keep Fighting, no matter how long the road to recovery may seem. If you enjoy it or want more, I will more than likely make a part 2 with a ship, but as it stands right now, there is no pairing in this. If you would like to be tagged in any of my stories, please send me an ask! Beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology!

It felt like liquid sex rolling across your tongue and down your throat. Each taste bud exploding with delight as you drank with shaky hands. You could feel the warmth spreading through your stomach and making your whole body tingle just under the surface like electricity was coursing through your nerves. Sure, you never meant for it to go this far, but the feeling it gave you, the rush of pleasure and the tingle of excitement… you couldn’t get enough.

You were a vessel, approached by a celestial being that whispered promises in your ear. The angel that possessed you, Delilah, convinced you that you would be helping her do God’s work, that you would be aiding in the will of Heaven.

They were all lies.

Delilah took control of your body and did horrendous things. She murdered innocent people and other angels, she conspired against Heavenly Host, and worst of all, she killed your family when they were researching ways to expel an angel from a vessel. She whispered to you that it was for the greater good and that she still had work to do, but you were broken. The strong barricade you put up between you and her shattered, leaving you trapped in your own mind like a lethargic pile of despair unable to control your body.

You were stuck in the darkness of your own mind. That was until you breathed, felt air rushing into your lungs followed by a throbbing pain in your head. You willed your body to move, and your eyes shot open when you were able to wiggle your fingers. You slowly rolled to your side and took in your surroundings. You were in a derelict building that looked to have been abandoned since the sixties, judging by the wallpaper. There was debris and broken furniture scattered around you, everything caked in a thick layer of dust.

You sat up and noticed quite a few footprints in the dust surrounding your body. A few of them were scuffed like there was a struggle, but that’s when your eyes froze on the charcoal black outline of wings scorched into the floor in front of you. You turned around and didn’t see any where you had been laying down, but it appears there had been an angel killed here.

You leaned forward and managed to get to your feet, wobbling slightly as you remembered how to walk. It had been fourteen years since you said that one word that ruined your life, and you weren’t about to stick around and let them get another chance at you. Your eyes landed on a shiny metallic object under one of the broken chairs and you bent down and picked it up. An angel blade would come in handy, just in case you needed to defend yourself.

You brushed some dust off the tacky light gray suit you were wearing and slowly creeped through the house and outside into the sunlight, taking a moment to stand outside and let your skin tingle with warmth as the sun’s rays caressed you. It had been a while since you’d felt anything and you knew it was going to be slow remembering how to function again; remembering how to live again.

That was three years ago. You hunted for a while, trying to distract yourself from the piece of you that was missing. It felt like you were missing a part of your soul and nothing would satiate the hunger you had to be complete. You tried drinking, sex, pure adrenaline, and even some recreational drugs, but nothing worked. It was like your body was a puzzle with a piece missing and no matter how many times you tried to jam another piece in the gap, it never fit and you were left even more frustrated than before.

Until you met Damien two weeks ago.

“Hey Sammy, we got a case,” Dean called out from the library of the bunker. He heard the heavy footsteps of his brother getting louder as Sam made his way from the kitchen to the library.

“Whatcha got?” Sam sat down across from Dean and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“A trail of bodies in Iowa,” Dean turned his laptop toward Sam, “four dead so far in two weeks, victims had no connection to one another except that they were wearing business clothing and-”

“And you think this is a case?” Sam raised an eyebrow after skimming the news report.

Dean raised a finger to silence his brother before leaning up and hitting the spacebar, scrolling the article down to show him pictures of the crime scene. Each crime scene had a pair of charcoal black wings scorched into the surface behind each body. Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he continued scrolling, studying each photo of the four crime scenes.

“Angels?” Sam asked and Dean nodded. Sam continued reading and let out a soft chuckle at one of the paragraphs. “They’re calling the perp a serial killer and named him The Crow. Clever.”

Dean cocked his head and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Huh?”

Sam sighed and turned the laptop back around to face Dean. “A group of crows is called a murder. They’re being punny.”

Dean made a grunt of approval before he slapped both hands on his thighs and stood up. “Sounds like our kinda thing, right? Right. Meet you at the car in ten.”

Sam slammed the laptop closed and grabbed it, sprinting after his brother to go pack for the trip.

“Thank you, officer. I will,” Sam forced out, rolling his eyes as the officer continued speaking. “No, I’m not sure if the FBI is hiring. You should check the website. I- I have to go. Goodbye!”

“Did you make a new friend, Sam?” Dean nagged, handing Sam a beer from the mini fridge in the motel they were staying in. Dean sat down on the end of one of the beds and popped open his own, taking a long pull.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam growled, “I was eventually able to get more info about the crime scenes. All the victims were completely drained of blood; that was the detail they were keeping from the press.”

“So, what? We have a vamp that likes the heavenly fresh taste of angel blood?”

Sam shook his head. “No bite marks. All the victims had their throats slit. Had to have been done with an angel blade or else they would have healed.”

“Rogue angel?” Dean speculated. “Maybe some kind of ritual that requires a lot of blood?”

“I have no idea,” Sam said, “but you should call Cas.”

Dean groaned, but shut his eyes. “Castiel, this is Dean. We got a crazy serial killer down here that’s popping angels like they’re bubble wrap. We could use some trench-coated assistance. Come in, Castiel, Angel of the Lord.”

Dean opened his eyes when there was a knock on the motel room door. The brothers exchanged looks of confusion, but Sam stood, his gun raised, and walked over to the door, peering through the peep hole. He slipped his gun into the back of his waistband and opened the door, revealing Castiel standing on the other side.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel grumbled, stepping into the room. “Sam.” He nodded at the younger Winchester.

“Why didn't you pop into the room? What’s with the knocking?” Sam asked, sitting back down in his chair at the table.

“The last time I came when Dean prayed to my father, I interrupted him when he was naked in bed with a blonde woman. She was in an intriguing position with her leg behind-”

“Whoa, okay,” Dean cut the Angel off, “Sammy doesn’t need to know the details about that little mishap. Can we move on please?”

Sam muffled a laugh and cleared his throat, pulling up the news article and giving Cas a full rundown of the case so far. He agreed that it was probably not a vampire, but someone specifically targeting Angels for their blood. He assumed it was a witch or some other type of monster that was using Angel blood for a ritual.

“Did you know the angels?” Sam asked as he hacked into the traffic cams for the surrounding counties. The most recent killing had a witness that said she saw a black SUV pulling away from the scene fifteen minutes before the body was discovered.

“I knew two of them, Damien, the first victim, and Melissa, the third. They were both very good soldiers.” Castiel hung his head. “Our numbers are already diminished enough, we need to stop whoever or whatever is doing this.”

“Found it,” Sam exclaimed, rapidly typing on his laptop. “I spotted the SUV parked outside an abandoned house at the edge of town. Thank goodness for crime prevention cameras and paranoid civilians.”

It started off as a high pitched ringing in your ears. The sound felt like someone scratching nails down a chalkboard inside your brain. It was driving you mad, you couldn’t sleep, you could barely eat, and it was slowly killing you as you tried as many ways to get it to stop as you could. It wasn’t until your first taste that the ringing began to shift into words. Once you understood, you could call out, bringing them to you… like ordering a pizza delivery.

You slumped down against one of the decayed walls inside the house’s kitchen and brought your knees up your chest, shivering and rocking back and forth. You only had two cups left, barely enough to last the rest of the week. You whimpered, reaching for one of the cups. It was a problem, you knew, but your addiction was controlling you.

You chugged the entire thing, letting the warmth of the liquid soothe your tremors and pacify your mind. You swallowed down the last sip and were now licking the cup clean, trying to savor every last drop. You jumped and slunk farther into the corner when the front door was forcefully kicked in.

Three men ran into the living room only meters from you, two had flashlights and guns and one was in a trenchcoat. You spotted him immediately and licked your lips. A soft glow of bright blue surrounded his body and you could feel the power radiating from him. He was an Angel.

You reached for the angel blade on the counter as the two men split off in opposite directions and the angel began to walk toward the kitchen where you were hiding. You just needed another taste. You needed fresh blood. You needed him. You slowly wrapped your fingers around the cool metal of the angel blade’s hilt and shifted to your feet.

You followed his line of sight and knew he had seen the empty cups of blood littering the floor in the kitchen. It was now or never.

“Dean! Sam! I fo-”

You lunged at him with the angel blade, making him jump backwards, unable to finish his thought. He looked up at you and narrowed his eyes, confused as to why you were attacking him. You licked your lips, the sweet coppery taste of blood still on your mouth and chin.

“Angel,” you whispered with a smirk.

You lunged at him again, knocking him backwards into the living room, landing with a loud crack as the coffee table you both landed on broke underneath the combined weight of the two of you. You were crazed, you could smell the power coming from him… it was more than any angel you’d ever seen. You needed him. Maybe this time you could be whole again.

You slashed your angel blade at him, but he was able to block every move while continuing to try and push you off him. You heard a loud bang and let out a feral shout as you felt a burning pain pierce through your right side. You rolled off to the left of the angel and took deep breaths, locking eyes with one of the two men. He was standing near the stairs, with light brown hair and deep green eyes, smoke still rising from his gun.

You felt a stinging sensation as the bullet was pushed from your body and the wound closed. You stood up and spun the angel blade in your palm, ready to kill this human that was getting in the way of your addiction. You saw his eyes shift to a spot over your left shoulder and the moment you turned around, you saw the butt of a gun coming at your face and everything went black.

You slowly came to, taking in your surroundings but keeping your eyes closed. You couldn’t move your arms or legs like you were tied down, and you heard hushed voices coming from a spot in front of you.

“She’s not an angel,” one voice whispered, “but she does have residual grace inside her. Almost triple what you had when Gadreel left you, Sam.”

You heard a scoff. “So she’s not an angel but is somehow able to access the power of the grace still in there?”

“I believe so. She’s been drinking angel blood to add fuel to the fire, so to speak,” he sighed. “Her soul was powering the grace for some time, but it’s been severely depleted. It’s almost been completely burned away, hence why she’s rabid. Her soul is almost gone.”

“That’s no way to talk about a lady,” you chuckled, lifting your head and opening your eyes, “especially one sitting in the same room. The name’s Y/N, by the way.”

All three men looked toward you and you looked around the room. You were chained to a chair in the middle of a devil’s trap in some kind of dungeon basement. There was a table and chair off to the side along with a cabinet filled with various blades and torture devices. You felt the first tremor tingle through your fingers and quickly balled your hand into a fist.

“So yah gonna tell me what the hell I’m doing here,” you nodded over to the cabinet, “or am I your freaky sex slave now?”

The tallest man stepped forward. “My name is Sam,” he pointed to green-eyes, “that’s my brother Dean,” he pointed to the Angel, “and you’ve already met Castiel.”

You let out a dreamy sigh and licked your lips. “You smell delicious, Castiel. Can I just have a small sip? I can practically taste the power coming from you. You’re not like the other angels, are you?”

“Hey,” Dean snapped, “you’re not drinking anyone. You’re not some Angel vampire.” A smile twitched at his lips and he chuckled. “Angelpire.”

“Dean, not now,” his brother scolded before he turned to you. “We’re going to help you. You need to detox from this angel blood. It’s not going to be fun, but we’re going to help you through it.”

You scoffed and laughed. “What if I don’t want to be helped? What if I’m perfectly fine with who I am now?”

Sam sighed and stepped forward, crouching down in front of you so he was eye level. “I know what it feels like. I was addicted to demon blood a few years ago. I loved the power it gave me, but that rush of pleasure and satisfaction made me do very, very bad things.”

“Cut the lecture, Dr. Phil,” you spat, “I don’t give a shit what you went through. I need angel blood to survive,” you nodded toward Castiel, “just ask Wings over there.”

Sam spun on his heel and looked back at the Angel. “Is that true?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’m unsure. Her soul is barely stable. The grace has attached to it like a parasite, siphoning power from it in order to keep her alive.”

“Can we do a grace extraction?” Sam asked Castiel as he stood up.

“I doubt she would survive. The angel blood has acted like a steroid, in a way. We need to weaken it before we can even begin to think about extraction. We need to get the angel blood out of her system, but that might kill her by itself.”

“So basically I’m screwed either way,” you shrugged. “Just kill me and get it over with. Angel blade should do the trick.”

“Nobody is killing anyone,” Dean interjected, stepping closer to you. “Sammy made it through his detox and we’re gonna get you through yours. I can tell you’re a fighter, it’s not time to give up now.”

You took a shaky breath as your hand began to shake again. You could feel the hunger gnawing at the back of your subconscious, clouding your thoughts. You had one goal and you would do anything to get what you needed. You began to struggle against the restraints, trying to loosen them and get your hands or feet free.

“I can’t,” you growled through gritted teeth. “Let me out of here!”

“You’re stronger than your addiction, Y/N. Just focus on getting better, we’ll be in to check on you a few times a day.” Sam let out a heavy sigh. “It’s going to suck, but we’ll be here to support you.”

Your whole body began to start shaking and you felt a trickle of sweat slide down your forehead. The hunger was becoming so intense, you couldn’t think anymore. You let out a loud scream of frustration as the three men turned around and walked toward the door on the opposite side of the room.

“No! You can’t leave me here! I’ll be fine, just let me out!” You pleaded, the restraints digging further into your skin as you struggled against them. They ignored you and shut the door behind them.

You were alone with the pain of your addiction, the horrible impulsive subconscious entity that consumed you. And that… that scared you more than the pain of detox did. You really didn’t know if you could survive… or if you even wanted to.

Forever Tags: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @ididntasktogetmadedidi @trashimaginezblog @jensen-gal @spnbaby-67 @feelmyroarrrr @donnaintx @potterhead1265 @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @atc74 @mereka18 @pilaxia @supernatural-jackles @squirrel-moose-winchester

#reader insert #dreamer’s title challenge #angst #additction #guppyfic #spnfanfic #drug addiction #addict reader #recovery #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #angel blood #angel blood addiction #violence #language

159 notes · View notes

winsister91 · 7 years

Text

The Angel and The Prophet

Summary: Reader is a prophet and has eyes for her trench coat wearing guardian angel

Characters: Castiel x Reader, Dean

Word Count: 2803

Warning: Language, Fluff, SMUT, bondage I guess, NSFW

A/N: @arcturuz requested Cas smut and here it is! Special thanks to @sofreddie for talking through the idea with me :) Quite nervous about this one, never written for Cas, so I hope I just do the angelic stud justice! Fingers crossed! Also! Absolutely mind blown by the reception on This Means War, thankyou so much for the love, it’s honestly made my weekend.

My Masterlist!

~ Cas and forever tags are open! ~

Castiel taglist from @spnfanficpond . Let me know if you want to be added/removed from future fics!

Dear Diary...or whatever

You're new so...Hi! Never written a diary before, but there are things going down in my life that has just GOT to be recorded.

Where do I start? This has been the craziest couple of months I'm not sure if I'm dreaming in all honesty. We'll go from the top I guess. I'm walking home from work one night, cutting through the park. This crazy storm just seems to start and it's like it's following me. I'm jogging along, very wary that I'm in a wide open space but I can see my apartment block so I just decide to make a break for it. Then I hear this loud crash and I black out. Somewhere in this black out I had a dream. Two guys, proper lumberjack lookalikes with all the plaid, driving along in this sweet ass car, talking some crazy shit. Demons and monsters and something about vessels for Michael and Lucifer? Stopping the apocalypse? Real bat shit stuff.

Fuck knows how much time had passed while I dreamt this, but next thing I know I'm in my bedroom at home, and there's this smoking hot guy in a trench coat just looking at me at the end of my bed! Naturally, I freaked out a little bit, for all I knew he could have been a crazed serial killer or something. Mid freak out he puts two fingers on my forehead and suddenly I'm as cool as cucumber. Not for long, however. He tells me his name is Castiel, and he's an “angel of the Lord, come to protect the new prophet”. I remember laughing, asking if he'd been on the old Mary J. God, angels and prophets? Me, a fucking prophet? I just work in a boring ass office then come home to my cats and play video games. Why on earth would I of all people be a prophet? Then he was able to tell me what I saw in my dream. That the two guys in it were called Sam and Dean Winchester, and they really were going to stop the apocalypse. I guess I must've looked pretty dumb founded because Cas then said something about me needing time to process and then VANISHED IN FRONT OF MY EYES. Dude. I started to wonder if I'd magically somehow ended up high on Mary J.

About a week or so passed, and I just assumed I must have had some...psychedelic episode or something. And we all know it's healthy to ignore stuff like that right? I'm playing on my PlayStation and this blistering headache attacks me. Vision goes all fuzzy and what do you know, I'm seeing Sam and Dean again. They've got this guy tied up to a chair and some real occult looking graffiti scrawled on the floor. They're asking him about a seal? But he's just laughing. Well, until they throw some water at him and his skin starts fizzing and burning. He struggles and screams and his eyes turn jet black. There's more talk and shouting and swearing but then the tall Winchester starts chanting some weird lingo. Black smoke starts pouring out of the tied up guys mouth and then he just slumps, completely lifeless.

A loud banging on my door snaps me back to reality. I'm shaking like crazy because I have no idea what the hell I just saw, but it starts to dawn on me that this shit might be legit.

I stupidly opened the door without looking through the peep hole first, and I'm thrown across my own living room. A woman stands in my doorway with the same jet black eyes. I'm hysterical, screaming and crying, but then Castiel appears in front of me. He's got this long silver looking blade in his hands and they start fighting. I scramble, grabbing my two cats and shut them in the bedroom, because they're my top priority of course. Somehow this demon gets hold of the dagger thing Cas is holding and it about to shove it straight into his beautiful face. I improvise and think of the Winchesters.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, the words just kind of came to me.

The scary lady turns and hisses at me, lunging for my throat and I squeal quite pathetically. Cas thankfully stepped in, placing his hand on her forehead and she screams while her entire face illuminates, then she slumps like the guy in the chair did.

So turns out that was a demon. I sat with Cas and had a long conversation this time. He told me that these dreams or visions I'm having are flickers of the future revealing themselves and I need to keep record of them for him, as they will prove useful for him and the Winchesters to succeed in stopping it. Again I'm flabbergasted, I'm playing a vital role in saving the world? That's pretty bad ass.

To trim the fat, Cas has been to see me a few times now over the last couple of months. He's really sweet once you get past the uh...lack of social skills? Once, he actually flew off to fetch me chocolate and ice cream when I was on my time of the month for crying out loud, how can you not love that?

Sometimes when he shows up he's so bloodied and battered, tells me he's too weak to heal himself (because angels can freaking do that too it seems). So I just let him crash on the couch and attempt to patch him up. I'm no nurse, but I'm a master with band aids. He makes me laugh too, one time he showed up whilst I was playing Resident Evil and he asked where the zombies were because he had to get there immediately and “stop the Croatoan virus from spreading”.

The guy just does things to me though, I could quite happily get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his for days. The way he tilts his head slightly in curiosity when I say something too human for him. And boy I can only dream of what body hides under that trench coat, I've seen glimpses when patching him up, but I yearn for that full picture.

Okay I'm fully rambling now. I'm crushing on an angel. Wonderful. Coming to cinemas soon The Angel and The Prophet. I'm such an idiot.

Peace out.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You sigh, getting up and stretching your arms as the diary lays open on the table in your front room. A draft blows through your hair and you hear that familiar flutter of wings.

“Cas!” you beam, as he appears at the door, “I knew you were coming tonight! Wait there!”

You run to the kitchen, grabbing a White Castle bag out of the fridge and warming up the burger inside in the microwave.

“So how are you doing?” You call back to him, getting no response. As soon as the microwave pings, you tentatively drop the burger on a plate and take it through to him.

“Cas,” you giggle seeing him still stood in the doorway, “You can sit down you know?”

“You said to wait here?” he questions with that trademark head tilt.

“Just sit,” you chuckle, “Got you your favourite! Had to warm it back up because I was little preemptive in buying it. Should still be good though?”

Cas takes the plate without a word and sinks his teeth into the piping hot burger. A smile spreads across his face.

“These make me very happy,” he states, turning to you with another smile in thanks.

“I know honey, enjoy,” you tap his knee playfully, “I'm afraid to say apart from seeing you were paying a visit tonight, I haven't had any further visions this time.”

Cas annihilates the burger in about three bites, he looks at you after a deep sigh of content and says, “That's unfortunate.”

“Sorry,” you shrug, “Gimme that plate.”

You drop the plate in the sink, you'll sort it later. It's quality Cas time right now. As you re-enter the room you see the angel's eyes glaring right at your open diary.

“CAS!?” you squeal, and you feel your cheeks turn rosy.

“Why do you say I am smoking hot?” he questions, his eyes not moving from the page, “I don't see any smoke? I actually find it a little cold down here on earth.”

“Cas just pass me the diary,” you avoid answering questions.

“Crushing on an angel?” he continues, “How can you be crushing me when you're not even touching me? Plus looking at your small frame, if you were to sit on top of me I don't think I would be crushed.”

“Don't talk about sitting on you,” you groan, pulling the diary away.

“Y/N,” he narrows his eyes puzzled, “Do you want me to take a photograph of what's under my coat? I can just take it off and show you instead if you like?”

“Cas you're fucking killing me,” you lean on the door frame for balance while your mind races. Castiel gets to his feet and walks over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks looking into your eyes, “Your face has turned pink.”

“No I'm not okay,” you whine, taking deep breaths to slow your heart rate, you decide to spit it out, “I like you Cas.”

“I find you pleasant company also,” he nods in response.

“N-no Cas,” you stutter, “I like you.”

His face remains blank and you feel a twang of irritation in your guts because he's not understanding you. Fuck it, you think, understand this. You throw your arms around his neck and pull his lips to yours. You feel the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He's kissing you back, and your heart feels like thumping bass pedal. You give a playful nip to his bottom lip and let him go, you lock eyes, lost in the moment. Then he vanishes.

“Oh god dammit!!” you cry out.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Dean is sprawled out on a motel bed, flicking through the free channels, bored at the lack of entertainment. He takes a sip of his beer and sighs, contemplating whether to just buy a sneaky porn channel on one of Sam's cards.

“Dean,” Cas appears.

“For crying out loud Cas!” he yells, near on jumping out of his skin, “...Is that lipstick on you?”

Cas wipes his face, a look of panic in his eyes, “I just went to see Y/N.”

“Oooooh,” Dean grins, “You been getting some human booty?” “S-she kissed me,” the angel stutters.

“And then?” Dean asks eagerly.

“I left,” Cas answers wide eyed.

“You left!? C'mon man!” Dean cries, “You don't just leave when a girl kisses you!”

“I panicked.”

“Cas, do you like her?”

“She is very beautiful, but...”

“You listen to me now,” Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small square foil packet, “You're gonna take this, and get your feathery ass back there.”

“Dean I-”

“I get it, you're not savvy on what you need to do. I'll tell you exactly what to do, let's get creative with that grace of yours.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You're pacing. You feel like an idiot. You just scared off your horrendously hot guardian angel. Perfect! You decide to just call it a night and try to forget this ever happened. You reach your bedroom and throw your shirt down onto your floordrobe. There's a flutter of wings.

“Y/N,” you hear that familiar deep voice.

You squeal, covering your naked breasts instinctively. You note a difference in his behavior however, eyes narrowed and full of hunger. It makes something deep down tremble in want. He strides over, taking you and lifting you up onto his hips.

“Hello,” he says, before resuming your previous kiss. His hands grip your ass tightly and he pushes you up against the wall. You can't help but gasp into his mouth in surprise.

“C-Cas,” you moan between kisses. He's being rough and passionate, holding on to a clump of your hair while he nips and bites down your neck. He turns around, now laying you onto the bed, placing your hands above your head before standing to remove his shirt. You motion to sit up to get a good view but you can't. Like an invisible force is holding your hands there, you struggle for a moment in confusion.

“Um...Cas?” you state to the ceiling. He comes into view, leaning over you. You see that torso of his and, like you suspected it was firm and nicely toned, you want to touch it but are still unable to move your hands. He leans down for another brief bite on your neck and you see a free hand of his do a quick swish in the air. Down go your pants. You jump in further surprise. The same hand hovers now just above the skin on your chest and he moves it slowly down your body, not touching your naked skin at all. As he moves you feel a surge of sensitivity shoot through you, causing you to arch your back and moan loudly in pleasure and shock. The hand moves back up you along with this pulse of energy and you gasp uncontrollably as your body gets hotter and wilder.

Is he....using his grace for foreplay? You think to yourself. His hand moves back down now, stopping to hover over your intimate zone, you fully cry out as the sensation their builds.

At last you feel physical contact as two of his finger slide into you. Scissoring and brushing at your sweet spot. Your body writhes and your hips buck completely out of your control. Every touch and movement is so intense it's like it has all been planned out in fine detail. His lips are on your neck once more, and his other hand has found your breast, gently teasing your nipples with small circles.

“F-fuck...” you moan, these actions sending tingles over you in all directions. Your eyes drift down. At some point, Cas has removed his pants. You're slightly disappointed you missed the strip show but you were otherwise occupied. You see his erect cock, condom in place and you swear your pussy tightens at the sight. Like he can read your mind, which he probably can, Cas hoists himself and lines up. Your hands are freed suddenly and you spring them into action, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you, right in sync with his entry into you. He fills you right up and you find yourself gasping into his mouth once more. He seizes the opportunity to allow your tongues to meet.

You hear his breathing get deeper as he slowly pulls out and back in again, gentle but effective. You grind your hips in rhythm with him to heighten the sensation. He grunts and the sound takes you to another level. He picks up the pace, sensing your elevation in sensitivity. One of your hands is clutched tightly onto his shoulder and the other pulling at the sheets. You feel your legs begin to tremble and you bite your lip as you feel your core tightening. You hold your breath, determined not to give in so soon, you want this to last as long as possible. His pace picks up again and you clench your eyes shut, causing every touch to intensify once again. His hand leaves your breast and you take the moment to try and catch your breath, but it is short lived. A finger finds your clit, circling, stroking, pressing. Your back arches so harshly you almost sit up. You hold on, refusing to let go just yet, and you get tighter and tighter. Building higher and higher you start to feel light headed.

Cas moans and thrusts in hard and deep, and you feel his cock twitch as he cums. You can't help but release, unable to edge any longer. The orgasm ravages through you and you have zero control over the primal cries of pleasure escaping your mouth.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You feel dazed, unsure if this is really your life anymore. Prophets, demons, the apocalypse...and you just fucked an angel. Cas holds you close to him while you snuggle into his shoulder. Ultimate contentment.

“I need to go,” Cas whispers softly as you start to drift off.

“Must you?” you whimper, trying to give him your best puppy eyes.

“Just briefly,” Cas smiles, brushing hair out of your eyes, “I need to thank Dean for his advice.”

“Okay....wait, WHAT!?”

Tags! @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whisperandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @for-the-love-of-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofhazel @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl177 @deantbh @sinceriousleyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @oldfashioncdvillain @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarinal1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturallyobsessed @mysaintsinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @4401Inc @sis-tafics

#supernatural #fanfiction #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel fluff

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turnoftherogue · 7 years

Text

The Rabbit sends a little Bill Part 1

Dean and Lacey were sat in a diner, both looking a little lost. The waitress brought over their order, "Bacon and eggs for you, and oatmeal for you." she said as she placed the dishes in front of them. Dean raised an eyebrow at Lacey. "Oatmeal? You don't have to go all healthy just cause Sam's not here to do it." Lacey laughed. "Don't worry it's probably a one off. It's been such a long time since I've had a lot of things I just want to try everything over." Dean nodded. He was missing Sam it was true. They had spent so long travelling together it was weird that Sam wasn't here. He also knew that Lacey knew he missed Sam and was doing anything she could to make up for his absence. He studied her from across the table as she dug into her oatmeal. She was wearing a white vest top with dark blue jeans and a black and white striped cardigan and she seemed to be permanently attached to her converse lately. Her long blonde hair hung freely over her shoulders. She was doing pretty well considering the circumstances. They had been driving around for a few days looking for a case to work on and they had finally lucked out. There had been some random killings in the next town over and they were heading there to hunt, Dean surmised from the reports in the local paper that it was a vampire they were dealing with. They finished their meal and Dean paid the bill. They headed outside and got into the Impala. Dean drove them a short way down the highway before pulling into the gas station and filling the car up. He leant in through the open window. "You want anything?" "I'll come see" Lacey replied and bounded out of the car. The bell above the door pinged as they entered the store. Lacey disappeared down an aisle and after grabbing a few snacks Dean followed after her. He found her standing in the middle of the aisle examining the magazine rack. "Found anything?" Dean asked. Lacey nodded wide eyed. "I can't decide which one. Any ideas?" Dean shrugged. "Just grab a couple, whatever takes your fancy." Lacey smiled and grabbed three magazines off the rack and followed Dean to the counter. The cashier rang it up and Dean paid for it on one of his credit cards. They headed back to the car and drove a few more miles down the road to a Palms Inn Motel. Dean checked them in and they headed up to their room. Dean unpacked his guns and sorted through them. He glanced up and saw Lacey curled up on the other bed reading an astrology magazine. Dean sighed. "We've got some time to kill, anything you wanna do?" Lacey glanced up from her magazine. "Anything?" Dean chuckled. "Well, within reason." "Would bowling be within reason?" She asked. "Sure I think we can run to that." Lacey smiled widely. Dean and Lacey went down to the front desk. Dean got directions from the clerk and they got into the Impala. Lacey was still flipping through her magazine, "Dean when's your birthday?" she asked. "January 24th" Dean replied. Lacey nodded thoughtfully. "You gonna read me my horoscope?" Dean asked smiling. "Sure. It says; It isn't a good idea to blame your troubles on others. The only one that you really have to blame is you. You will find that your mind is active today and that it might send you around in circles unless you make a conscious effort to slow it down and get it going on the right path. Deal with the facts of the situation instead of the emotions that may arise from it." She stopped and looked at Dean who just stared straight ahead and gripped the wheel tightly. They arrived at the bowling alley and Dean paid for them. Lacey stood behind him biting her lip. "What's up?" Dean asked raising an eyebrow. "Uh, um nothing, its just been such a long time since I've done this." Dean smiled. "It's OK I'll show you how to do it." They spent a few hours at the bowling alley, Dean teaching Lacey how to play again. He even let her win once. He was glad he did in a way, cause when she saw her name flash up on the screen she gave out a little squeal and jumped into his arms. As the afternoon came to a close they hurried back to the motel and Dean gathered his stuff together. They headed out to a bar that was in what appeared to be the vampires hunting grounds. "Why don't you stay in the car, this place isn't exactly the Ritz" Dean suggested as he opened the car door. Lacey blinked a moment. "OK" he could tell she didn't like the idea. "Don't worry if I need a hand I'll yell." He wandered off. Lacey sighed. It seemed like no matter how many times she proved herself Dean was still going to look at her as a little girl. Lacey dozed for a while, the next thing she knew Dean was climbing back into the car spattered in blood. "Oh my god are you OK?" She asked him worriedly. "Oh yeah, I'm fine, none of this is mine." Dean started the car and they drove off. They arrived back at the motel and Lacey got out of the car and followed Dean up to the room. "So" she said trying to lighten the mood. "What are we having tonight." "Pizza?" Dean suggested. "Sounds good to me." Lacey smiled. Dean offered her a small smile in return. He knew she was trying to make up for Sams absence and although she couldn't replace him there was something about her, he couldn't help but smile back, there was an innocence about her that he had been lacking for so long. He handed her some cash. "Why don't you go get us something while I get cleaned up?" "Sure." She replied. "And don't..." Dean started before she teleported out. "... scare anyone when you teleport in." He muttered to himself. Dean began to clean up, washing the vampire blood off his face and hands. As he glanced up into the mirror over the sink he saw Castiel standing directly behind him. "God!" Dean exclaimed thumping the sink. "Don't do that!" "Hello Dean." Cas replied calmly. Dean turned around and came face to face with Cas. "Cas we've talked about this, personal space." "My apologies." Cas said stepping back. At that moment Lacey teleported back in carrying pizza boxes. "Hey Cas" she said placing the boxes on the table. She walked forward and gave him a hug. Cas looked awkward and patted her on the back. Dean smirked. "Anyway, how'd you find us? I thought we were flying below the angel radar?" "You are." Cas replied. "Bobby told me where you were." Dean nodded. "Where's Sam?" Cas asked glancing around. Dean glanced down at the floor. "Sam and I are taking separate vacations for a while so... You find god yet?" Dean asked changing the subject. "More importantly can I have my damn necklace back please?" "No I haven't found him. That's why I'm here I need your help." "With what?" Dean asked walking over to the table and taking a slice of pizza out of the box "God hunt? Not interested." "It's not god it's someone else." "Who?" Dean asked. "Archangel. The one who killed me." "Scuse me?" Dean asked choking on his pizza. "His name's Raphael." "You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?" Lacey spluttered with laughter at this. "I've heard whispers that he's walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity." "For what, revenge?" Dean asked. "Information." "So what you think you can find this dude and he's just going to spill gods address?" "Yes because we are going to trap him and interrogate him." "You're serious about this." Dean studied Cas. "So what I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together." Cas looked confused. "Give me one good reason why I should do this?" "Because you're Michaels' vessel and no angel will dare harm you." Dean stared at Cas. "Oh so I'm you're bullet shield?" "I need your help because you are the only one who will help me, please." Dean sighed. "All right fine. Where is he?" "Maine. Lets go." Cas reached out to touch Deans' forehead but Dean backed away. "Whoa." "What?" Cas asked. "Last time you zapped me some place I didn't poop for a week! We're driving." Dean said as he began stuffing things in his bag. Lacey burst out laughing at the stunned look on Cas' face. "Too much info Dean." She told him as she got up and packed her stuff. Dean shrugged. They made their way out of the motel room and down to reception. While they were waiting for the clerk to check them out Lacey leant with her back against the desk. "So does that happen when I teleport you too?" "Surprisingly no." Dean replied. Lacey shrugged. "Weird." They walked back out to the car and the three of them got in. They sat in silence for a while as Dean drove them out of the motel and onto the highway. "So how long is it going to take to get to Maine?" Lacey asked from the back seat. "About seven hours." Dean answered. "OK. Goodnight." Lacey replied. Dean chuckled and glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Lacey curling up on the back seat. The next time Lacey woke up was to find Dean leaning over to wake her. "We're here." Lacey sighed and leant back against the cool leather seats. "It's morning already?" "Yep. Listen Cas and I are going to interview this cop who saw Raphael. You wanna come with us or stay here?" "I'll come with. It'll be nice to stretch my legs." Lacey replied as she grabbed her bag and got out of the car. "Give me two secs?" She asked Dean nodding over to the Diner across the road. Dean nodded and she headed off. "What's the plan?" Dean asked turning to Cas. "We'll tell the officer he witnessed an angel of the lord and the officer will tell us where the angel is." Dean stared at Cas. "Seriously? You're going to walk in there and tell him the truth?" "Why not?" "Because we're humans." Dean replied giving Cas a badge and straightening his tie. "And when humans want something really, really bad, we lie." "Why?" Cas asked looking confused. "Because that's how you become president." Dean replied. He caught sight of Lacey coming out of the diner, over Cas' shoulder, and couldn't help but stare a bit as she crossed the road towards them. She was wearing a band t-shirt with white cut off shorts and black boots showing off her long legs. "All ready? I haven't got a badge for you so lets just say you're my assistant or whatever for the time being." Dean said snapping himself out of it. "Okay lets go." Lacey smiled and fell in line with Cas as they headed into the station. As they walked through the door Dean spotted the officer he was looking for. "Deputy Framingham?" The guy turned and Dean held up his badge. "Hi Alonzo Mosley, FBI. This is my partner Eddie Moscone. Also FBI." Dean prompted as Cas stood there doing nothing. Cas eventually caught on and flipped his badge out upside down. Dean sighed and turned it the right way up for him. "He's uh, he's new." He explained. The deputy nodded and then his gaze fell on Lacey. "And this is my assistant…" Dean seemed lost." "Alice Liddell." Lacey provided shaking the deputys hand. Mind if we ask you a few questions?" Dean asked. "Yeah sure. Talk here though." The deputy said indicating his right ear as he lead them into his office. "Hearings all blown to hell in this one." "That happen recently?" Dean asked as they sat down. "Yeah. Gas station. Why you're here isn't it?" "Yes it is. You mind just uh, running us through what happened?" "A call came in. Disturbance out at the pump and go on route 4." "What kind of disturbance?" Lacey felt her mind drifting as they questioned the cop. She awoke from her daze as Cas turned to her and said; "Saint Pete's" "OK thank you for your time." Dean said as they got up to leave. They shook the deputys hand and made their way out of the police station. "So…"St Petes"" Lacey said in a deep voice, doing an impression of Cas. Dean chuckled. A few hours later Dean had found an empty cabin for them to stay in while they were working on the case. They unpacked their bags from the Impala and Dean broke the lock on the door. As the door swung open a smell of mould and rot invaded their senses. A few hours later they were sat around the ground floor of the cabin. "So basically what you're saying is, this could be our last night on earth?" Dean asked Cas incredulously. "Yes that's correct." Castiel replied, stoic as usual. Dean gave a sigh. "Any plans?" Castiel shook his head. "I was just going to sit here quietly." "Come on, anything? Booze, women?" Castiel looked away awkwardly and Lacey cleared her throat. Dean winked at her before turning back to Castiel. "You have been with women before right? Or an angel at least?" Cas rubbed the back of his neck. "You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud seeding?" Lacey snorted. "You what?" Dean ignored her. "I've never had occasion to." Cas replied looking everywhere but at Dean. "All right." Dean said grabbing his jacket. "Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain. One, Burt and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Lets go." He ushered the two of them out the door towards the Impala. Lacey stopped short. "What about me?" "What about you?" Dean asked turning towards her as he opened the door to the Impala. "You don't seem to be bothered if I die a virgin." Lacey said crossing her arms across her chest. Dean stared at her open mouthed for a moment before turning on his usual smirk. "I'm sure we can arrange something." Lacey sighed before climbing into the car. "It doesn't matter." Dean climbed in after her. "What do you mean?" Lacey rolled her eyes. "Dean I was ten the last time I was in this reality. I don't exactly know what you're talking about." Dean's eyes widened. Cas climbed into the front seat next to him. Dean looked from Cas to Lacey and back again. "Right." He pointed at Lacey. "You're next on my list. Lacey laughed and shook her head. A while later the Impala pulled up outside a dark building. They climbed out of the car. "Where are we?" Lacey asked Dean. "Uh… you'll see when we get inside." Lacey followed the boys inside and they took their seats in a booth. It wasn't until they were sat down that Lacey looked around. "What is this place?" She asked looking incredulously at Dean. "What do you think it is?" Dean smirked. "I think it's something I have no idea about again." Lacey glared at him. He laughed and put his arm over her shoulder. She blushed slightly and focused on the glass of coke the waitress had brought her. The waitress placed a glass of beer in front of Dean and eyed up Lacey. "Is she old enough to be here?" Dean nodded. "She's 23." The waitress nodded still looking suspicious before carrying on. "Hey relax." Dean said to Cas who was sitting on the other side of the booth looking terrified. "This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here." "Dude you full on rebelled against heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks." A woman wearing very few clothes approached the table. "Showtime." Dean nodded in her direction. "Hi, what's your name?" she asked Cas. He looked scared. "Cas. His name is Cas. What's your name?" "Chastity." The woman replied. "Chastity." Dean said trying not to laugh. "Wow. Is that a kismet or what buddy? Well he likes you, you like him. So Daye nu." Chastity tugged Cas to his feet. "Come on baby" As they walked off Dean got to his feet and took hold of Cas' arm. "Hey listen take this." He said handing Cas a wad of money. "If she asks for a credit card, no. Now just stick to the basics, okay? Don't order off the menu. Go get her tiger." Cas looked at her nervously. "Don't make me push you." Cas gulped and followed her out of the room. Dean sat back down in the booth. "I still can't believe you brought me here." Lacey said giving him a look. "Well how about I make it up to you then?" Dean said raising an eyebrow. "Oh and how are you going to do that?" Lacey smiled, playing along. "Whatever you'd like." Dean said putting his arm back around her shoulders. Lacey smiled up at him. "Dancing." "Well I'm sure we can…what?" Dean asked looking perplexed. "Take me dancing." Lacey smiled. "Uh well, I uh…" Lacey batted her eyelashes at him. "Oh, OK." Dean sighed. "Yay! Thank you!" She said throwing her arms around his neck. Moments later there came a scream from the other room. Dean got up to investigate and Lacey followed him. They found Chastity stalking away from Cas screaming. "Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Bastard! Screw you jerk! I'll kill you!" She stalked past Dean and Lacey rounding on them too. "Screw you too! God! Jerk!" Lacey stared after her stunned. "What the hell did you do?" Dean asked him. "I don't know." Cas said sheepishly. "I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office." Lacey raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Oh no man." Dean exclaimed. "What?" Castiel asked. "This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It's the natural order." Two burly guys came in through the door Chastity had exited through. "We should go. Come on." They piled out of the back door. Dean was laughing to himself. "What's so funny?" Cas asked. "Oh nothing. Whoo. It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time. Years." Deans face fell a little at this. "Come on I'm sure we can find some people to laugh at on the dance floor." Lacey said as she linked her arm through his. "You coming with us Cas?" Lacey asked but he was already gone. @18crazybutcutealsopsycho

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean x oc #down the rabbit hole

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