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lunaroserites · 6 months

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Rosemary Tea

Pairing: Established Castiel x Witch!Reader

Summery: Set just after Cas becomes Cas again after Lucifer rode him around like a fine suit. Canon divergent.

Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, borderline SA, groping, kissing. Nothing is described in heavy detail. Lucifer gets handsy with reader while in Castiel’s body. Angst, Fluff, sweetness and a happy ending. Unedited, we die like Winchesters.

Words: 1446

Disclaimer: I’m not a practicing Wicca/witch so do not take what I say as correct. It is fiction. I do not own the supernatural characters depicted here.

If you have a request, feel free to ask me!

Castiel felt many things when he got his body back in his own control. One was guilt, another was utter sadness and the final was anger. Not at her, at himself for not being able to stop the violation of her trust.

Lucifer (Castiel) had sought her out. Castiel’s little lover. His pretty little witch. He was in the mood to make Castiel hate himself.

She opened the door to her little cabin, a place Castiel found peace in after the hardest days, the worst hunts. A place he called home for a while after Dean kicked him out. She gave Dean an ear full after finding out what happened.

She greeted Castiel (Lucifer) with a warm smile and sweet kiss on the cheek. It made Cas writh in the back of his own mind, her lips felt like heaven and foreign at the same time. Like he was feeling them though a veil. Her little familiar glaring at Castiel, something she found a little off because usually he loved the Angel. Now he seemed wary of the Angel standing before her. It made her feel on edge. Keeping her guard up she allowed Castiel into her home. Cas screamed for her to stop and just slam the door in his face.

“How have you been, love?” Her accent was old, hard to place but he loved it. She pulled a few dried herbs down from their drying spot, rosemary, dried apples and a cinnamon stick, his favourite tea. Not that he could really taste it but he liked the warmth and smell. Her next hint was when he told her to stop because the smell of cinnamon was too much.

“Love, are you okay?” She asked with concern thick in her voice. Castiel screamed for her.

Lucifer (Castiel) put his hands on her hips, an almost bruising hold. “I’ve just missed you,” he practically purred into her ears. He turned her in his arms and made her face him and he kissed her, he shoved his tongue deep in her mouth, dominating her. He was much rougher than usual. More demanding, forceful. Her Angel was gentle, sweet and endearing. This was… odd.

She pulled back for a moment and looked into his eyes, searching for something. His hands growing impatient glided up her torso and pawed her breast roughly. It felt wrong. She grabbed his hand and moved it away from her. “I’ve missed you too Castiel,” she said warily.

“Let me make us tea, and we’ll catch up,” she went to move away from and his grip on her hip tightened again.

“Now, now pet, I’m not done with you,” her stomach dropped and she felt sick. There was only one person in the entire world who called her that. She felt violated. She pushed him away. He had referred to her as the Winchesters pet witch in the past. Her blood was boiling.

“What have you done to him, Devil?” She snarled at him, trying to get out of his grasp. His hand that had been at her breast, was now gripping her hair at the base of her skull.

“Clever little Witch,” he spat at her, his voice full of venom. Her eyes were watering at the force he was holding her hair.

“You’re going to do as I say and enjoy it.” Was what he spat at her next, her cat being the smart creature it was, snarled and clawed his leg. Lucifer growled and kicked the cat back across the cabin floor. It was just enough distraction for her to free herself and slap her now bloodied palm on the angel banishing sigil on her wall. A blinding light filled the cabin and he was gone.

She dropped to the floor and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bin. Her cat came over and placed a worried paw on her thigh. She cried.

That was a couple months ago. The Winchesters had tried everything to get Lucifer out of Castiel’s body that didn’t involve him taking over Sam’s body. Finally they freed the Thursday Angel from the clutches of the devil.

That’s why he was now standing in front of her cabin hesitant to knock. She refused to see Castiel when he first ‘woke up.’

“The devil's touch is still haunting me.” Was what she told Dean when he called her to let her know Cas was back in control of his body. She spent weeks cleansing her cabin, trying to get the aura right again.

“He left a scar in my space that I can’t seem to mend.” She said quietly on phone with Dean when he called her a week prior to this moment of Castiel standing outside her door. She didn’t blame Castiel for what happened. She blamed the petulant child that was Lucifer. But her soul was scarred by him, the touch of the devil planting a seed of doubt in her. She hated it. She tried everything to mend it, nothing worked.

She felt him before he knocked, the cooling calm of his grace seeping its way back into her bones, into the cracks and crevices of her old cabin. It was mending the scars left by the devil. It cleansed the damaged aura, his grace doing something not even her witchcraft could do.

She opened the door to his raised hand as he was deciding whether to knock or just leave her to her own peace. Her familiar standing between her legs, scrutinizing his form. The familiar always seems to know what was what. The familiars glare softened and he swished his tail before sitting between her feet.

His grace encircled her, tickling her cheeks and cleansing her soul from the scar left by Lucifer. Her body visibly relaxed at the cooling embrace of his grace. “Castiel,” her voice sounded like heaven, his name like a prayer coming from her lips.

She reached her hand out and took his raised hand into it, she traced her fingers over his hands. He felt a tingling rush through his body as if she was forcing her own aura through his system, scrubbing any remnants of the devil from his soul.

“Angels don’t have souls,” he told her when she said his soul felt like a summer breeze to her. It brought her peace and cleansed her own.

“Everything has a soul.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Giving him a caring smile, before preparing his preferred tea.

“Would you like some tea?” She asked softly. Already turning to gather the ingredients. Castiel followed her eagerly. With deft hands she prepared the ingredients, leaving them to steep on her stove top. Her familiar had rubbed itself against Castiel, sitting between the two.

The smell of his favourite concoction wafted into his nose, it filled him with a sense of hope, that despite everything he was going to be okay.

“My love, how I’ve missed you,” her fingers clutching his hand over the table, his grace whisped around the cabin, it moved over her body making sure she was alright.

“I’ve missed you as well,” his gravely baritone captivated her. Her beautiful lavender eyes staring into his eyes, searching his soul for anything.

“You soul feels far away, forgive yourself love. I do not blame you for the actions of a petulant child throwing a tantrum.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly before getting up and pouring a mug of the tea for him, she stirred some agave nectar into it and laid it down in front of him.

His fingers gripped the mug and brought it up to his lips, he relished in the warm scent and warmth of the tea. He took a cautious sip and everything felt right. He gave her a curious look and she winked at him. She must have stirred some calming magic into because his soul felt at ease.

She moved and placed herself delicately on his lap and his arm supported her and fingers gently pressed into her side, keeping her sturdy. She placed her arm over his shoulder and touched his cheek with her other hand. “You know I knew something was wrong. My angel holds me like a delicate flower. That menace handled me like a piece of meat.”

“You are my delicate flower, the precious thing to me. I could never harm you.” His fingers ghosted her side. “I’m sorry he left that mark on your soul love, I hope my grace soothed it.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, “your grace has cleansed my soul and cleaned my space. All is right now.” She nuzzled her nose into his cheek lovingly.

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #supernatural imagine #supernatural #Lucifer #witch!reader #castiel imagine #castiel fluff #Castiel x witch!reader #established relationship #misha collins

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thepagemistress · 3 months

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This post from @blanketforcas got the brainworms going but I didn't want to hijack the post so here's a little thing:

Castiel was woken by an overwhelming feeling of distress, of yearning.

For the briefest moment, he thought he was back in Purgatory. Listening to Dean's desperate prayers, wanting nothing more than to reunite with him but knowing it wasn't safe. He couldn't give in.

But no, this wasn't Purgatory. It was most definitely the bunker, and the warmth plastered along his bare back, the arms wrapped around his chest were most definitely Dean's.

Before Castiel could say anything, a mutter sounded from behind him.

"Sorry."

"Dean-"

The arms tightened their grip, Dean's forehead pressing in between Castiel's shoulder blades.

"'m sorry," he said again, louder this time and all the shakier for it.

Fully awake now, Castiel managed to shuffle his way onto his other side, never quite shaking Dean's grip, until they were facing each other. "What's wrong?"

Eye contact was in short supply as Dean sucked in a breath. "Happens sometimes. Kinda thought it would stop once I got my shit together-"

"We got our shit together," Castiel corrected, earning an amused huff.

"But guess that was too much to hope for, huh. I mean, I got everything I could possibly want, right? So why the hell do I feel like if I don't like crawl inside you, I'm gonna fucking combust?"

It's said in such a rush, it took a moment for Castiel to even parse the words. "I know what you mean."

Dean scoffed and it was wetter than Castiel liked. "Sure."

"No, Dean, you misunderstand," Castiel said, finally earning eye contact. "I know what you mean."

Dean stared at him, into him, waiting for him to find the right words.

"When I rescued you from hell, we were both in our purest forms. Your body was still in the ground and I had yet to procure a vessel. It was just your soul and my grace, completely entwined. Perhaps...perhaps part of your soul craves a return of that feeling. Just as my grace does."

The awe in Dean's eyes was like divine revelation. "Huh. You really do know what I mean." It was teasing, but his relief was palpable.

"I'm sorry I never made the connection before..." he started but Dean shook his head, sniffing as he curled in tighter, tucking his head under Castiel's chin.

"'s ok. I know now. It helps." They lay in silence for a few moments before Dean spoke up again. "Could we..." Castiel sucked in a surprised breath, realising what Dean was about to ask. Pulling back again, Dean's sharp eyes darted across Castiel's face before asking again. "Could we?"

With a not inconsiderable amount of effort, Castiel managed to swallow down the frantic desire to claw his way to Dean's soul there and then. "Not tonight," Castiel uttered, voice gruff and eyes wild. Things that clearly didn't escape Dean's attention since Castiel didn't pick up on any feelings of rejection from the other man.

"That's not a no," Dean said.

"Definitely not a no," Castiel confirmed, earning an amused smile. "I just...need to make sure I know I'm not going to do any damage. I need to have control. Certainly more than I would have right now."

Dean's amused smile turned into a smug smirk. "Yeah? Gets you all hot and bothered, huh?"

"Dean, holding your soul within my grace has been the single greatest privilege bestowed upon me and I have wanted nothing more than to feel it again."

"Oh," Dean breathed, sobering immediately.

"The fact that it's possible your soul might feel the same way is...overwhelming, to say the least. I need some time. Will you give me that?"

"Yeah, course. Course, Cas. However long you need." Castiel kissed Dean on the forehead, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he felt the man slip back into unconsciousness. "Worth the wait," he mumbled, just before sleep claimed him.

"I know what you mean," Castiel whispered.

#destiel #spn #fanfiction #i was feeling sappy apparently

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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Okay, now that I have finished 4.16 "On The Head of A Pin", it's time for a Uriel post, because Uriel makes a whole lot of sense and I don't think he gets enough credit for it.

Supernatural starts out introducing us to only three angels: Cas, Uriel, and Anna. And all of them are feeling or have felt the effects of heaven's iron fist—heaven's desire to control their lives, their thoughts, and all of their actions. Anna has already rebelled and fallen, and Cas AND Uriel are having serious doubts—doubts they are afraid to really speak to each other about candidly. We see this starting in 4.07.

In 4.07 "It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester", Uriel and Cas were given orders to tell Dean to leave so they could smite the town and keep the seal from being broken by Samhain's rise. However, their true orders were not to intervene or force Dean to leave. If Dean refused to leave town or wanted to follow another path, they had orders to stand by and watch it happen.

Cas is ultimately pretty okay with this, because he had severe reservations about smiting the town and was troubled to think that could truly be heaven's will. He prayed that Dean would choose to save the town, but he's also aware of the "ends justify the means" angle, and thinks maybe he can't see the full picture and god can, so he can kind of... see both sides and maybe how all those lives were worth the seal from another perspective. This whole thing leaves him troubled... but Uriel is far more troubled.

Uriel thinks they should have wiped the town off the map, and he makes his resentment very clear—calls humans "Savages, just plumbing on two legs". He is certain that Dean will fail, and they will lose this seal, because humans are weak and stupid. And Sam and Dean do end up failing to prevent Samhain's rise—so his perspective is reinforced. He's angry that he's at the mercy of a human—someone he doesn't respect—and heaven is just letting this happen. He's furious about these orders that simply make no sense... but he can't talk to anyone about it—not even really Cas. When Uriel starts bad-mouthing humans, Cas warns him that he's close to blasphemy... and then Uriel actually suggests that they defy their orders. We know from Anna that this is an offense punishable by DEATH. What Uriel's suggesting is a HUGE deal. It's dangerous to even say it out loud.

The thing is, I don't think that Uriel is actually working for Lucifer yet in 4.07. In fact, we know he isn't working for Lucifer yet in 4.07 because he's very clear that he wants to prevent the seal being broken at all costs—to the point he's considering disobedience! I think Uriel deciding to work to free Lucifer is something that happens between 4.10 "Heaven and Hell" and 4.16 "On The Head of A Pin", as Uriel wrestles with his doubt in god and heaven with no one he can truly confide in without risking literal death.

CASTIEL: And any rate, it’s out of our hands. URIEL: It doesn’t have to be. CASTIEL: And what would you suggest? URIEL: That we drag Dean Winchester out of here and then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map. CASTIEL: You know our true orders. Are you prepared to disobey?

Cas's words are as good as a threat—and Uriel recognizes them as such. He stares at Cas and goes silent, scared to say another word at the risk that Cas will report him or try to smite him.

I think Uriel is aware that Cas also has doubts and confusion about their orders, and that's why he hopes and tries to confide in Cas about his frustrations in 4.07—but the big difference between Uriel and Cas is that Uriel resents humanity like Lucifer did, while Cas loves humanity. Cas calls humanity "works of art" at the end of this episode, and their placement in the park in this scene, and later, Cas and Dean's placement in the park at the end of the episode—is a nod to the comfort that Cas—like Dean—receives from knowing these humans are alive because Dean refused to leave—whether they lost the seal or not! So Cas isn't going to be budged on this. Uriel is suggesting they disobey in a way that Cas wouldn't choose even if he was willing to consider disobedience to heaven at this point (which he isn't—he won't start considering disobeying until 4.16).

There's a fascinating deleted scene (deleted scene 2 here) in 4.10 where Uriel again vents his frustrations with heaven's bizarre orders to Cas. Once again, things haven't gone their way, and Uriel thinks Sam is responsible for part of it. But Cas says the order's come down from heaven that they aren't allowed to touch Sam—and then Uriel says he'll kill Ruby at least—only for Cas to say they aren't allowed to harm her either. Uriel is furious, and again Cas proves to be a very dangerous person to confide in:

URIEL You're joking! CASTIEL I don't joke. URIEL You mean we can't hunt a demon?! What's going on up there?! CASTIEL Clearly, they feel she has a part to play. URIEL It's crap. It's crap! And, you-- Forget about it! CASTIEL You are proposing disobedience. Like Anna. You know what I'll have to do.

Why is heaven defending demons? Why is heaven leaving the choice on how to handle breaking seals in the hand of a defiant human with no sense of the big picture? Uriel enjoyed getting a chance to wail on Dean in 4.10. He said he'd enjoy it—partly because of Dean's defiant attitude, but I also I think because Dean represents that first broken seal—he represents humanity's weakness (Uriel hates Dean for breaking—we know this from the end of 4.07 when he tells Sam he can knock Dean down a peg by asking him about Hell). He is no righteous man—Uriel doesn't believe in him for an instant. Heaven's orders are cryptic and confusing which already gives Uriel doubts in heaven's competence... but even worse, Dean's defiance reinforces that Heaven is the losing side here. They aren't going to stop the seals from breaking—not if this is their righteous man... someone who can't even follow orders—the one thing Heaven demands above all. If Uriel showed a fourth of the defiance Dean did, he'd be killed on the spot, but this human gets to mouth off to Uriel and there are no consequences.

So sometime between 4.10 and 4.16, Uriel begins disobeying. Uriel hates Dean—that's been made clear many times. But in 4.16, suddenly, Uriel responds to Dean's defiance toward heaven's orders with a laugh instead of threats and anger. He says,

Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.

Why the turn around on his feelings about Dean? Because between 4.10 and 4.16, Uriel started acting on his doubts and encouraging other angels to join him in disobedience. He started working to free Lucifer... so now, when he looks at Dean's defiance, he feels a kinship—he allows himself to feel recognition of his own resentment toward heaven—his own defiance of heaven's senseless orders. That certainly doesn't mean he likes Dean now (he's still plotting to kill him—now for the purposes of freeing Lucifer) but the defiance that infuriated him before is now... validating.

URIEL Not murders, Castiel. No. My work is conversion. How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense? CASTIEL It is our father's world, Uriel. URIEL Our father? He stopped being that, if he ever was, the moment he created them. Humanity, his favorites. This whining, puking larva.

Uriel hates humans, and he remembers Lucifer as someone who stood up to heaven.

URIEL You do remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him.

Uriel didn't really want to kill the other angels? He doesn't want to kill Cas in 4.16 either. He killed the angels who wouldn't join him because if he didn't, they'd reveal his disobedience and he'd be killed.

So through Anna, and Cas, and Uriel—we see the impact of heaven's senseless orders and brainwashing—the effects of the cult-like environment they're in and how each one doubts, and then eventually rebels. Anna rebels first, then Uriel... and next will be Cas. And what's interesting, is that in 4.16, Cas straight up tells Anna that he's considering disobedience, and then begs her to tell him what to do. I mentioned before that a part of Cas (in season 4) finds comfort in choices being out of his hands when he has doubts. Anna tells him to think for himself. But then right after that, Uriel asks Cas to join him... and Cas won't even consider it. So why? Cas is terrified to fall, but he's starting to think maybe he has to, and then Uriel gave him an opportunity and he said "no"—and he said no because, just like we saw in 4.07, Cas is in love with humanity. He could never align himself with Uriel and Lucifer, because they hate the humans Cas loves. In season 4, Cas's understanding of his love for humanity is primitive—he associates it with his love for god, as if he loves humanity only because they're his father's creations. He reiterates this sort of framing when Uriel is pummeling him in 4.16.

CASTIEL You can't win, Uriel. I still serve God. URIEL You haven't even met the man. There is no will. No wrath. No God.

Uriel is right about god—but then Anna steps up behind him and stabs him through the throat—and says:

ANNA Maybe. Or maybe not. But there's still me.

Anna, the angel who fell to earth and became human—tells us "there is still me". Anna—who, like Cas, is in love with humanity. There is no god, but there are still angels in love with humanity.

#what are thursdays for if not a barely coherent rambling post about uriel #in love with humanity #uriel #anna #heaven as a cult #4.07 #4.16 #4.10 #pk rewatches spn number ?#time to think for yourself #are you prepared to disobey #castiels motivations

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impala-dreamer · 8 months

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His Charge

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N is remanded to Castiel's care while the Winchesters go take care of a very angry deity who had taken her hostage. While they wait, she and Castiel get into an in depth conversation about the metaphysics of his being, and she gets him to show her his wings...~

2,562 Words.

Warnings: NSFW. Talk & Loving. Fluff

A/N: Been a hot minute since I've posted any Castiel. I think you'll enjoy this. It's super good... I just reread it. lol. If you enjoy it, please reblog :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

“What do they look like?”

Sapphire eyes looked up through thick, black lashes to see beautiful gems staring back.

Y/N smiled behind her whiskey glass and Castiel blushed. He was far from used to such adoration or attention.

“What do what look like?” he asked, countering her question with another.

She laughed softly and set the glass down on the table. The glowing map beneath illuminated the amber liquid and cast a strange array of orange prisms across the table.

“Your wings.”

Her voice was as soft as a song, but held a hint of mischief. Castiel felt something stir deep inside of his vessel as her eyes drifted down from his face to his chest and shoulders. She lingered on his right shoulder and he denied a shiver.

Castiel cleared his throat. “They are… quite large and impressive.”

Y/N bit her lip and laughed. “That’s what she said.”

His head tipped to the left, his nose bunched in confusion. “She?”

“Never mind.”

She looked away, dipping her chin to look down into the whiskey and then back up. Only her eyes moved back to him and Castiel’s face burned hot. He hid the blush, but beneath the surface, he was going wild. His body yearned for her, but he couldn’t make himself take a chance. He hadn’t exactly had the best experiences with human women, and besides, Y/N was barely a friend, almost a stranger. She was his charge. He was there to watch over her while Sam and Dean tracked down the Druid God that was after her; his job was to save her life, not get involved sexually.

If, he thought, that’s what she even wanted.

He often had trouble discerning flirtatious behavior from simple polite conversation. Dean once slapped him on the arm and told him to read their minds, shocked that Cas had such a power but never used it to get any, but that wasn’t something Castiel could bring himself to do. Not unless they asked.

Still, without even trying, he could tell that her heart rate increased slightly when he met her gaze, that her skin flushed nearly imperceptibly when he stared a bit too intensely. He knew that her nipples were hard because he could see with an Angel’s vision through the thin fabric of her t-shirt and cotton bra. He could even smell that faint wetness that dripped down into her panties.

But still, he couldn’t make himself move.

Castiel jolted when Y/N spoke again, her fingers running slowly over the rim of the crystal tumbler. Her tone was deeper, words spilled from her lips slowly, coating him in thick warmth from head to toe.

“I wish I could see them,” she said, lifting the glass to her lips. “I bet they’re beautiful.”

She took a deep drink and Castiel watched as her body took it in. He saw the whiskey splash onto her tongue, flood her taste buds, slither down her throat as her muscles contracted. He could smell the woody scent of it, feel the heat as it burned the back of her throat. His stomach tightened and a wave of heat washed over his manhood. His cock twitched but he took a breath and did his best to keep his vessel under control.

He swallowed hard. “Thank you, but-”

“But what,” she interrupted, licking a drop of liquid from her lip. “They’re too big to fit in this room? They’ll knock the walls down?”

Castiel laughed bashfully. “No-”

“They’re so amazing I’ll die from a peek at them?”

He looked directly into her eyes, unconsciously reaching down into the depths of her. “Most humans cannot handle the sight of them, no.”

“That’s… horrible. What, do they explode?” She laughed gently and took another drink, emptying the glass.

“No.” He sighed. “Most cannot handle the sight of the Divine purely because their minds cannot comprehend the truth of its existence. If I were to show you my true form, for instance, it might, as they say, blow your mind.”

Y/N bit her lip to hold in a drunken laugh. She inhaled deeply, drawing herself up in her seat as she took him in. “Well, I bet they’re magnificent.”

The way her tongue curled around her words, the brightness in her darkening eyes made his stomach tighten. She was definitely flirting, of that he was now sure.

He gave a subtle nod of thanks and tried to look anywhere but at the swell of her breasts. It became increasingly difficult as she leaned onto the table on her elbows, deliberately showing them off.

“So, what other magic powers do you have?” she asked slowly, her mouth a bit numb from the drink.

“I saw you shoot lightning out of your hand, so that’s one…”

Castiel smiled and turned to set his hands on the table casually. “Not lightning, no. Grace.”

“I thought that was just something you said before dinner.”

“No?”

Y/N laughed gently. “I’m teasing you, Castiel. So your Grace is like your superpowers.”

He puckered his lips in thought. “I suppose, technically, yes. If I were a superhero.”

She laughed again, this time easier, as if comfort had truly set in. She ran her eyes over his handsome face and Castiel swallowed hard.

“Oh, you’re a superhero.”

“I don’t have a cape,” he offered.

“Capes are for attention seekers. Trench coats, however…”

He looked down at his coat, suddenly a little self conscious.

Y/N licked her lips and slowly drew the bottom in snug between her front teeth. “Every badass character I’ve ever seen on t.v. wears a trench coat.”

He relaxed, smiling. “Well, then, I suppose- thank you.”

Y/N finished her drink. “I almost died today,” she said solemnly. “A few times. Like… more than once. I think I heard Gabriel blowin’ his horn for me.”

Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel was nowhere near-” She grinned and he laughed at himself.

“You’re not one for jokes, huh?”

“I enjoy them. Just takes me a moment sometimes.”

She was quiet for a bit, watching him, deciding. Then:

“So, you’re this giant ball of light, essentially, crammed into a human body.”

He shrugged but agreed. “Essentially.”

“And where’s the… uh… human that lived there first? Or is it like a snail situation?”

“His name was Jimmy Novack,” Castiel explained softly. “And he was a true believer. He offered me his vessel and we went through many trials together.”

“But he’s not here anymore?”

The Angel shook his head. “He is up in Heaven somewhere. Hopefully happy.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“I could go look for him, I suppose, but-” He paused and looked off, flashes of guilt-ridden scenes raging through his head. “Best not to disturb him.”

“I getcha.” She leaned back and crossed her arms under her chest, making her breasts pop up deliciously. Castiel held his breath. “So, you’re all alone in some human body. All the same feelings, needs… urges?”

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and this time, he let it linger. “I do not suffer human needs, no,” he said, almost instantly regretting it. Y/N nodded, a bit disappointed, and looked away. He cleared his throat and softened his tone. “I am in complete control of my vessel and I can do… those things…” Her eyes shot back to his. “If I choose to.”

A half smile turned her lips and Castiel let the warmth inside of him spread through every cell.

“If you choose to,” she echoed, biting her lip seductively. “And how often do you choose to?”

His mouth flooded with saliva and his blood began racing downwards. “Not… very often.”

Boldly, Y/N stood up and set her hand on the table. She dragged her fingers over the Pacific Ocean as she rounded the table to stand before him. Castiel could smell her arousal, feel the heat radiating off of her. She looked down at him and he met her gaze, wanting to grab her hips and pull her down, but afraid to move.

“And now?” she asked, sliding her fingertips up the California coast to steal the drink he’d never touched. Eyes still locked together, Y/N knocked back his whiskey and swallowed hard. She came back up with a slight cough and let the glass slip back over Oregon. “What do you choose now?”

He felt his testicals tighten and every part of his human body wanted to sink deep inside of her. His fingers twitched on his thighs and Castiel grabbed her hips just like he’d imagined, dragging her down into his lap.

“I choose this,” he groaned, leaning in to taste her lips while she rubbed down on his erection. She opened for him, parting her lips with a sweet slowness that nearly drove him mad. His tongue dove inside and she relented, letting him move and lick, suck and nip as he pleased.

Her hands pushed through his black hair, curled around the nape of his neck. She moaned into his mouth as he pawed at her left breast, sneaking his fingers into her shirt to pluck at her nipple. She arched into him and held on tight, dragging her hand down the center of his back.

His spine lit up with sensations and Castiel moaned loudly, pulling away from her mouth as she hit the base of his wings with her exploring hands.

Surprised, she blinked down at him. “Are you OK?”

Breathless, he nodded. “Yes.”

Y/N kissed the side of his mouth and then danced along his jaw, her hands scratching through his hair, tugging at his tie, working their way beneath the layers of suit and coat. Castiel massaged her ass, rolling his hips up into her jeans at a steady pace, loving the way she responded so easily to his motions.

She sat back suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes, irises fully blown and dark. “How- how long until the others get back?”

Unsure, Castiel closed his eyes and set out his spirit to find the Impala. They were still a state away. “A few hours, at least,” he replied, sneaking a hand up beneath her shirt.

Y/N smiled and yanked the shirt away, then her bra, coming back to him with renewed fervor. She sucked at his ear, nibbled on his non-existent pulse, kissed his stunned lips as he toyed with her breasts.

“Fuck, you feel good,” she whispered, nearly whimpering as he pinched her nipples in tandem.

“As do you…”

Y/N reached down between their legs and rubbed gently at the head of his cock. He was lost beneath too many pieces of fabric and she struggled to open his belt.

“Do you have any idea how much clothing you have on?” she teased.

Not catching the tone, Castiel’s brows furrowed. “Yes…” He gasped as she ripped the zipper down and shoved a hand into his slacks. The thin cotton boxers were no match for her probing fingers and Castiel let his head fall back as she stroked him to full hardness.

When she hopped off of him, blue eyes flew open wide, but all was understood as he watched Y/N peel her jeans away. She smiled as his gaze hovered over her plain blue panties and she held her breath while shaking those away as well.

Naked and dripping, she stood before him like a Renaissance statue. Curves and bumps, bruises and scrapes, the cream of her skin, the imperfect perfection of her; it was all there, on display, and Castiel reached for her, snaking his fingers between hers as their palms met.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, guiding her back into his lap.

She smiled against his lips and sank down onto his cock, drawing a deep moan from him. “So are you.”

She rode him slowly at first, rolling her hips gently as they kissed. When her hand slid behind his back again, he shuddered so deeply and jerked his hips upwards so quickly that she shivered and picked up her pace.

“Let me see them,” she whispered, running her hand over that sensitive spot on his back again.

Castiel groaned beneath her, his face smashed in the valley of her breasts. “I-I can’t.”

She took him in as deep as his thick cock would go, and kissed his panting lips. “Then let me feel. I want to feel the real you…”

Hands tight around her body, Castiel kissed her back, licking at her lips until she swooned in his arms.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, “keep them closed.”

She did as he said, screwing her eyes closed tight while his wings unfurled. She felt the rush of wind, heard the sound as they grew to full size. He could see her struggle to keep her eyes shut, so he kissed her again, distracting her with his hot tongue.

Castiel bent his wings around them, encasing their bodies in the invisible feathers. She felt the tips caress her flesh, smelled the sea and the sky all around her. They were cool yet created a comforting warmth as they touched her, every graze sending blissful sensations through her body.

“My God,” she moaned, “Castiel… they’re… beautiful.”

He smiled and licked at her collarbone, thrusting upwards, fucking into her as she regained her barings.

One hand on his shoulder, the other wandered through the forest of feathers, gently stroking his wings as if touching the very essence of God.

Every brush of her fingers over his wings made his cock twitch and Castiel moaned without care, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as he fucked up into her dripping cunt.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” she cried, reaching back to caress the root of his wings, the source of it all.

Gritting his teeth, Castiel’s nails dug into her shoulders and hips, forcing her to work with him. He sent out a wisp of his Grace to fill her clit and Y/N screamed with orgasmic pleasure as she came hard and wet on his throbbing cock. One more jab of his hips and he came, shooting his load up into the depths of her.

It leaked down onto his slacks as she lifted up and collapsed into his arms.

“That-” Her head lolled against his shoulder and he held her close. “Amazing-”

Castiel kissed her cheek as she drifted into unconscious bliss, her body giving up after the intensity of it all. The long two weeks held captive by an insane deity, the realization of the Horrific and Divine, the orgasm he’d just thrust upon her; it had all caught up at once, and Y/N went limp against him.

He kept his wings out and around them as he carried her to his room.

It wasn’t truly his room, not really his bed as he never slept, but it was where he felt comfortable when he was relaxing. The pillows were soft and the blanket was always tucked in perfectly.

He lay Y/N down and untucked the blanket for the first time ever, gently draping it around her as she rolled onto her side.

Hand on her forehead, Castiel sent another faint wave of Grace through her, sending her into a deeper sleep.

“Rest well, Y/N…”

She smiled in her sleep, somehow whispering his name. “N’ght, Castiel.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

#spn fanfic #castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x you

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slvtwh0re · 9 months

Text

At Your Mercy

smut; spn, dean winchester

After an incident at the bar with a flirty bartender, you wanted to take your husband home and remind him just how lucky he was to have a wife like you. And while giving up control wasn’t something Dean didn’t often, letting you take the lead proved to be better than he ever expected.

Warnings: begging, praise, dirty talk, oral sex (make and female receiving), p in v

It wasn't often that Dean gave up control to you. You didn't understand why, because he very obviously enjoyed it when you took charge. But then again, you loved being trapped beneath him, feeling him use you as he pleased. Dean was simply good at everything.

Today, though, you were getting your way. After an incident at the bar with an overly flirtatious bartender, you wanted to give Dean a sweet reminder just how lucky he was. It had started as a trip for drinks, just you, Dean, Sam, and Cas. You and Dean had left early; you had other plans.

Dean was already turned on, just from watching you tell the woman off and flash your fancy wedding ring. The way you led him into the bunker - holding his hand with care but enough strength to remind him that he was at your mercy - only added to his need for you. Once again, he practically melted every time he got to see you in this light.

Clothes started shedding the moment you two reached the bedroom. Your black dress hit the floor - you'd never been one for fancy dresses, but Dean had convinced you to dress up tonight. Dean's eyes danced over your partially naked body, admiring the red undergarment set you were wearing.

"It's not fair that you're the only one staring," you said, tugging his shirt over his head. Once he was shirtless, you took a moment to admire him before placing your hands on his chest and shoving him backwards.

He hit the bed, crawling up to lay against the pillows. He was waiting for you, anticipating your next move. There you stood, in all your glory, looking down at him with lust-filled eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. "Let me make you feel good... Please, Y/N."

Hearing him beg was a weakness for you, and he knew it. But not tonight - you were taking your time with him. Shaking your head, you said, "Not yet."

Your words left him with curiosity over your next move, but his questions were soon answered. Positioning yourself over his lap, you leaned forward to slowly unzip his jeans. You stared up at him through your eyelashes, flooding him with memories of all the times your mascara ended up smeared down your face after spending a night together. It was one of his favorite ways to see you, but tonight, he'd see that other side of you. The side that wanted to push him to tears.

Once his jeans and boxers were discarded, you were back to your previous activity. Dean exhaled deeply when you took him into your mouth. You were teasing him, swirling your tongue around in slow circles. He was half tempted to grab your hair and shove your head down, but he knew it would only be digging his grave deeper.

His hands gripped the bedsheets, his breathing got heavier, and his eyes could barely stay open as you continued on. You kept the same pace for a few minutes, really trying to get him worked up.

Finally, he looked at you with those eyes; the ones pleading for you to give him something more, anything. You gave in, taking all of him into your mouth. A satisfied moan escaped his lips as you bobbed your head up and down, using your tongue to pay special attention to the vein along the underside of his cock.

Just as he felt his release building up, you pulled away. It left him feeling empty, missing your lips wrapped around him. You sat up, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Then, you pulled off your panties and grinned at him.

"I wanna ride your face, Dean," you told him.

The next word that left his mouth would've been enough to make you melt if you weren't so determined on having tonight play out how you wanted it. "Please..." he whispered.

He laid back on the bed, waiting for you. If there was one thing Dean absolutely loved, it was tasting you. Any chance he got, he was between your thighs, pleasing you in incredible ways. He knew your body, he knew what you liked.

So, when you positioned yourself over his face, you weren't surprised to feel him immediately start working you towards your first orgasm. His tongue made its way inside of you, slowly coming back up to circle your clit. You could feel his hands gripping your thighs, holding you down over his face. You'd surely have bruises from his grip, and you weren't sure how he was still breathing, but it felt too good to care.

When he used his hands to begin circling your hips over his face, you couldn't help the moan that escaped you. His mouth continued pleasuring you while you rode his face.

"You're so good, Dean." Somehow, you managed to utter praises between the sinful noises coming from both of you. "So good for me..."

He hummed against you at the sound of your words, and it was just enough to send you over the edge. He held you still as you came undone, using his tongue to gently clean up the mess.

When you resumed your spot on his lap, you took a moment to analyze his face. He had a drunken look in his eyes - drunk on your love and beauty and the feeling you gave him. His chin glistened under the dim light of the bedroom, making him all the more tantalizing. You moved to kiss him, taking a moment to remind him just how much you loved him.

"Maybe I should handcuff you..." you suggested against his lips. "Or maybe... it'd be more fun if you're just not allowed to touch me."

"I wanna touch you," he said breathlessly. "I wanna feel you, please..."

But you wanted to watch him squirm under you, watching you ride him and knowing he couldn't do anything. You wanted to see him reach behind himself to grip the headboard, toss his head back as he tried to swallow his moans.

He knew it, too, so it wasn't a shock when you shook your head. You used your hand to guide him to your entrance. In one, quick move, you sat down, taking all of him at once. He inhaled sharply, waiting for you to move. But you didn't - you stayed still for a moment, enjoying how he resisted thrusting his hips into you.

"Please, Y/N," he all but whimpered. "Please...

I can't..."

"You can," you assured him. "You can wait."

"You feel so good... Please..."

It seemed like ages, but in reality, it only took you a few seconds to give in to him. You began moving, switching between bouncing and circling your hips. At this point, Dean was a moaning mess, suffering the pain of not being able to touch you. The way you made him feel was overwhelming, overpowering in the best sense.

"You like this, huh, Dean?" you asked teasingly as you moved your hips in slow circles. "When I take control, when there's absolutely nothing you can do except watch me use you how I please."

"Yes," he admitted. "Yes - fuck, I love it. Please, Y/N... I wanna touch you."

He figured his plea would fall on deaf ears again, but surprisingly, it didn't. You gave in, nodding your head. Immediately, his hands reached out to grip your waist. However, he still let you take the lead.

Both of you were quickly approaching your ends, but Dean was the first to let go. He'd been surviving your teasing since the two of you had been home, but he couldn't take it any longer. You were too good.

The feeling of him filling you up made you come undone. You arched your back, dropping your mouth open in a silent moan. Dean thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and he wished he could take a picture to remember it forever.

You collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily and inhaling his scent. Even through the smell of sex and sweat lingering in the room, you could still smell remnants of his cologne, and it made you smile.

"Well," he breathed. "Maybe we should do that more often."

You chuckled, picking your head up to kiss him softly. "Give me a time and place."

"Round two in thirty minutes?"

"Thirty minutes."

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x y/n #smut #spn #spn fanfic #spn smut #supernatural #supernatural smut

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casdeans-pie · 9 months

Text

Part 3 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4. Thanks to everyone for their enthusiasm for more parts of this silly lil thing I wrote, I really appreciate it sooo much and you all keep me writing!

This accidentally gained a part 4 I'm sorry ! So the next chapter will actually be the final

Tags for: @dreampencil (thanks again for the initial idea I can't believe how this keeps growing aaa), @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister as always let me know if you want a tag for the final part!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

It had happened twice already, and Dean felt confident he knew why: both times Cas had jumped in surprise. He looked like a weird little guy in a trench coat, who frowned too much and hadn’t slept properly in a week, but he had all that powerful Angel mojo stuffed inside, so it made sense that startling him could set it off.

Sometimes if you shook a bottle too hard the cork would fly out, that’s all.

Of course, now Dean absolutely had to shake the bottle on purpose to see what happened.

------

The piles of papers scattered across the long table looked random, but Dean knew from experience that they were organised by a system that only Cas understood. Books were opened onto pages with complicated diagrams and words in languages Dean didn’t know, while more books and papers were piled high in boxes by his feet.

Sam sat on the opposite side of the table with a similar setup – both reading in silence except for the rustle of pages.

Dean placed a bowl of steaming, freshly popped popcorn onto the table between them with a flourish and sat on the edge of the table. “You know what goes great with research?” He grabbed a handful and threw them into his mouth. “Snacks,” he said, slightly garbled from all the popcorn, as he grinned at them both.

“Do you know what goes even better with research?” Cas asked drily, without even looking up from his papers. “An extra pair of hands.”

Dean nearly choked with the force of his laughter, and in response Cas finally looked up at him from over the top of the paper he was currently reading. The corners of his lips curled up into a fond smile.

“Cas,” Dean managed, as he got his laughter under control and swallowed forcefully. “You wound me. Here I am, providing sustenance for you both-”

“I don’t eat.”

“-and you’re giving me the cold shoulder?”

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean jabbed a finger towards him before he could speak. “Do not tell me your shoulder is ‘perfectly room temperature’ or whatever. I can see it in your eyes.”

Cas’s smile grew a fraction wider before he hid it behind a pile of papers in his hands. “Okay,” he said, “I won’t tell you.”

Dean rolled his eyes affectionately and reached over for another helping of popcorn. He paused when he noticed Sam looking between them both with his eyebrows hiked up to his hairline.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam said with a soft smile, returning to his book.

So, Sam knew that he was flirting. So what. It wasn’t his best flirting, even he’d admit, but it’s not like it mattered when Cas didn’t even see it like that anyway. Did that make it worse? It’s not like he meant to flirt with him (badly) so much anyway, it always just kinda happened.

Dean ran a frustrated hand through his hair as his gaze flicked back to Cas before he could stop himself.

Cas had his eyes narrowed at the stack of papers in his hands, as if he could absorb the information through intensity alone, and Dean felt a wave of warmth in his chest. Okay, maybe the flirting was happening more than ever recently, and maybe he did mean to do it.

He turned away and picked at a loose thread on his jeans, trying to hide his small secret smile.

When they first met, he’d been on the receiving end of those kinds of stares, like Cas was trying to look inside of him, and see right to his core. Back then he probably could.

Thinking about Cas’s Angel powers reminded Dean of what he’d brought the popcorn in for in the first place. He shook himself out of his thoughts and cleared his throat quietly, making sure his back was to Cas.

Sam immediately looked back up.

Dean pointed over at Cas and then the lights. Sam frowned and shook his head. Dean wiggled his eyebrows and nodded. Sam's frown intensified.

The brothers’ silent argument continued while Cas researched obliviously, until Dean rolled his eyes, and in one fluid motion picked out some popcorn, turned around, and flicked it.

Cas jumped so hard that the current collection of papers in his hands slipped out of his grip and his elbow knocked over a whole stack beside him.

Even through the sound of the pages scattering across the table and the floor, Dean could hear Sam’s disappointed sigh as he made his way over to Cas to help, and plucked some popcorn out from where it had got caught on his spiky hair.

Cas apologised for the mess and thanked him, while Dean waited expectantly and with a growing sense of disappointment.

The lights stayed perfectly normal. Not even a flicker.

But that didn’t make any sense…

Cas had definitely been surprised – he’d jumped like he’d been hit with a taser – so Dean couldn’t think of what had gone wrong. The whole place should have been flashing like a nightclub.

Dean eventually jumped off the table and stooped down to pick up some pages that had slid across the floor, but when he placed them back on the table next to Cas, he turned to see two sets of glares directed at him. He pushed his tongue between his teeth and grinned. “I slipped,” he said with a shrug.

“You slipped?” Cas repeated, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, and then the popcorn just flew clear out my hands.” Dean’s grin widened. His experiment had failed, but at least he’d been able to see the Squint Of Disapproval. “Speaking of – Sam missed a bit.” Dean reached over to flick out a rogue piece, but Cas immediately ducked away out of his reach.

It was so unexpected that Dean froze mid-action.

“I’ve got it.” Cas’s voice had a strange, strained quality to it as he fluffed both hands through his hair, far away from Dean.

Something painful twisted in Dean’s chest at how quickly Cas had moved away from him. His hand was still suspended stupidly in the air, so he lowered it down to his side and tried to ignore the hurt – Cas could be weird about stuff, and he had just thrown popcorn at the guy. He shouldn’t read too much into it.

Dean forced out a little laugh at the bits of yellow popcorn still trapped in Cas’s hair. “It’s still there, just let me-” He took a step closer.

Cas flinched back. “No, I’m fine, I’ll use a mirror. Excuse me.”

He left the room so quickly it reminded Dean of when he used to be able to fly away and disappear.

“Maybe we should all take a break from research anyway?” Sam suggested, looking at Dean with a deep, concerned crease between his eyebrows.

Dean stared after Cas, a mixture of hurt and confusion and guilt swirling in his gut.

Sam sighed. “I told you messing around with his powers on purpose was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well. Give me stick and I’m gonna poke the hornets’ nest. ‘Cause apparently that’s just what I do.”

------

And then it kept happening.

For weeks.

They were never in a room alone together anymore because Cas would leave if Sam wasn’t there. He would stand up if Dean sat too close to him, muttering something about somewhere he needed to be, or that he suddenly had something to do that he’d forgotten about. He wouldn’t even take anything directly out of Dean’s hands if he handed something over, making some kind of excuse for Dean to put it down first before he took it. It got so bad that if Cas spotted him walking down the corridor in the bunker, he would turn around and walk the opposite way.

It was getting ridiculous. And it was driving Dean insane.

He’d only wanted to know what triggered Cas’s powers to go all screwy with the electrics like an Angel sneeze or something. It was supposed to be funny.

He wasn’t supposed to lose his best friend over it.

After the disaster of the first experiment, Sam told him that he wouldn’t help him with anything else, so Dean was on his own, and rapidly figuring out that maybe Sam was right, and it had all been a bad idea.

A couple of times Dean had even considered talking to Cas about it… but then he’d have to admit to trying to mess with his powers on purpose and acknowledge how badly their lack of interaction affected him. He also wasn’t sure how he could talk about how much he wanted them to go back to how they were, without also admitting that he’d kinda like them to be more than how they were.

So, he stewed in silence and hated the rift growing between them. Dean had never really been touchy-feely – the few times they’d hugged could probably fit on one hand – but God it was like… he missed Cas. And he was right there.

He had to get him back.

#I am having sooo much fun writing this even though I'm always nervous everyone is going to stop enjoying it after every update lmaooo #hope you enjoy the lead up to the final chapter!! sorry I had to split them but it was getting Large #please as always let me know what you think!!#destiel #destiel ficlet #destiel fanfiction #deancas #castiel's angel powers #castiel headcanon #pie's projects #my fanfiction #flustered!castiel

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urne-buriall · 28 days

Text

so I said there was one more spirit of the west alternate scene to go. this time we pose the question: "what if Cas wasn't away at the lawyers' after the final fight with John?"

John would look for him at Bobby’s or Ellen’s. He couldn’t bring them into his mess.

He had the option to pass through town or around it, but he didn’t want to attract attention. The Impala was a beautiful car, but everything that made it so distinct made it impossible to hide. He felt that just driving through with his broken window, even if all the others were rolled down, people would simply take one look and know. The evening deepened, but it wasn’t dark yet. They’d peer in the windows and they would see a battered boy, see the way Dean gripped the wheel to hold himself up when his whole back curved in a vain attempt to ease the horrible pain in his ribs.

It was tempting to go to the laundromat, to try finding Cas once more, but there was nowhere in town to conceal his car. Street parking only. He didn’t know if John would try to follow him now or later. Whatever happened, he couldn’t afford to be found out.

He didn’t even know if Cas was there. He hadn’t been this morning. He’d be so busy and he wouldn’t want Dean’s problems and...

No, that wasn’t it. That had never been it. Dean spent so long not wanting anyone to know, but he’d announced it for the first time to Kate, yesterday. That barrier had broken. The worst had happened. There was no point in trying to hide. This was the time it had to come out. What else could he do? What else could he lose? He’d lose Cas if he hid from him now.

Still, he had to get off the map before he figured any of this out.

He took himself out of town. He didn’t have much money, didn’t want to spend the last of it on a motel room that would only grant him one or two nights of shelter. As darkness fell he pulled the car in at a truck stop favoured by long-haul drivers. There was a row of payphones along one wall. The one nearest the kiosk door was in use, so he took the furthest possible to avoid being overheard. He put a quarter in and dialled Cas’ number from memory.

It rang three times and Dean despaired, but before it could ring the fourth Cas picked it up.

“Hello?” He sounded tired. He was likely sick of phone calls. He didn’t like phones at the best of times, and Doc’s death compounded the amount of time spent answering calls.

“Cas, hey,” said Dean. “It’s me.”

“Dean.” His voice relaxed over the line. “Cesar said you were looking for me.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Same here,” said Cas. “I was wondering if I should call.”

“No,” said Dean, too quick. He cleared his throat briefly. “No, it’s. You can’t call the ranch for a while.”

“Oh.”

So much could be said about that ‘Oh.’ Dean closed his eyes. He should talk more, but his words were too thick in his throat. He closed his eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded his head first, even though it couldn't be seen. A tear slipped down from his closed eyes. He turned his body to angle away from the parking lot, bent towards the phone and the separating glass. “I just—” he said. Tried to get control of himself. He couldn’t confess to it all over the phone. That didn’t feel right. “I just had to leave there.”

“Where are you now?” It was a fast question, splitting down straight to the important elements without first asking why.

“Truck stop,” said Dean. “Thirty minutes out of town. I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Can you come here?” asked Cas.

“No, Cas,” said Dean. “I can’t be in town. Because the car… I mean, the— the gossip. People would know where I am.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Cas,” said Dean. By which he meant, he was not in current danger. Likely. If he was spotted crying to his boyfriend over a payphone at the edge of a truck stop, that might not be the case for long. He straightened up, although it strained his sore ribs again to do so. He wasn't sure how bad he looked yet. Sometimes it took a while before bruises found their colour.

“You want to stay somewhere out of town,” Cas clarified, thinking out loud.

“I don’t have loads,” said Dean. “I thought maybe a motel, but that... that won’t work long.”

“Can you call me back in ten minutes?” Cas asked abruptly.

“What?”

“I have to ask someone something.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean didn’t want to hang up the phone. He didn't want to lose his connection to Cas. He was afraid he’d never get it back. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

“Ten,” Cas said again.

Dean checked his watch after he hung up so that he could be precise. He went back to his car, closing the door and looking over at the passenger seat covered in glass. The rock that John threw sat against the door. Part of Dean wanted to get rid of it, to pitch it into the pine forest that bordered the large parking lot, but part of him didn’t have the spirit. It reminded him of his father and of why he could never go back. A horrible talisman of what had just happened. It felt too powerful for him to mess with.

After ten minutes passed, he went back to his previous phone. He ignored a few looks from two truckers standing by the front end of an eighteen-wheeler. He was looked at sometimes. He knew his deficiencies. This time, he couldn’t tell if what they eyed were his injuries or his too-delicate features. He didn’t want to stay past this phone call, jumpy under the attention. He felt increasingly unwell. The sky was dark not just with encroaching night, but with rain clouds carried in by a cool wind.

“I have somewhere you can stay,” Cas said after he answered.

“You serious?”

“Missouri mentioned it to me at her barbeque. That she had a place a little quieter and out of town. She’d been renting it to a writer, but he left. I have a lease on the apartment, but I said I’d remember it. It’s still available. We can go there tonight.”

“We?”

“I— I won’t stay if you don’t want me to,” said Cas. “But I want to make sure you’re set up.”

“No, I want you to stay,” said Dean. “Just…” He didn’t want Cas to expect too much. He didn’t want to share the only thing he had to bring: the pain and the damage. “It’ll be good to see you. We’ll... We’ll talk when I get there.”

Cas gave him directions, said he’d be there before Dean. Dean pretended he didn’t see one of the truckers peel away from the cab to slowly make an approach. He got into the front seat and started up the car, feeling the eyes follow him as he drove away.

In the night, it was slow going to make out the roads, the varying turns. His muscles kept spasming as if they only now understood the pain. He felt ghastly and sick. He wanted to fall asleep. It took all his focus to keep his vision straight. He wanted to stop driving and rest instead.

Finally he reached the cottage with its open gate. He parked the car under a leanto, where he might avoid rain coming in the window. The motorbike rested there too.

Inviting light seeped around the curtains of the front windows. Dean opened the door to step in and Cas looked up from where he’d been unloading a paper bag of groceries.

The expression on his face changed. Dean knew what it meant. Knew how bad he must look. That distress as Cas swept forward from around the island to meet Dean at the door. When Cas hugged him it was fast but careful. An arm around behind his shoulder blades, one around his waist, close but not tight. Leaving it to Dean to lean his body in and grip Cas tightly in return. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, and his eyes felt hot again with unspent tears.

“I thought— You said you were okay,” said Cas.

That was all it took. Someone saying, definitively, that this was not okay. Dean shuddered with the first wave of tears, face bent into Cas' collar. And he was held, rocked, hair stroked until he’d collected himself enough for Cas to lead him to a couch and sit down with him. An arm still around him, encouraging him to stay close.

“What happened?” His voice was low as gravel, quietly encouraging.

“Sam left,” said Dean.

“Sam left,” Cas echoed.

“And I knew it was over. I told Adam’s mom what he’s like, and he found out.”

“He’s done this before,” said Cas.

“My whole life,” said Dean.

Cas let his hand stroke over Dean’s shoulder, a reassuring touch, thumb rubbing. He paused and looked over at where his hand rested, then down at Dean. “You never fell off Jagger.”

Dean shook his head. “Bad fight. Went down the stairs.”

Cas slid his hand back across Dean’s shoulders, then gently lifted it to Dean’s face. His thumb traced outside the edge of a bruise. “Where else are you hurt?” he asked.

Dean gestured at his ribs. Cas helped him out of his flannel shirt, lifted off his t-shirt to check on the bruises.

“Lie back,” Cas said as he stood. “I’ll get you some ice to help the swelling.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Dean, and Cas stopped. He looked at him steadily, and even though his expression hadn’t changed there was something about that look, that suspended moment. Dean wiggled his way to lie down against the couch.

“Please let me look after you,” said Cas. And Dean nodded his head.

No one had taken care of him before. He’d hidden every hurt. Even from the person who caused them, never letting on to John the consequences of the pain he caused because it would only inflame his anger all over again and make him despise Dean more than he already did. For being weak, for being useless, for accusing John of bad conduct by holding his own actions up to him. Dean had spared everyone but himself from witnessing the reality of his distress.

Cas came with painkillers and a glass of water. He had Dean hold an icepack wrapped in a tea towel to his cheek and Cas iced the worst parts on his ribs. The throbbing pain abated some under these two influences. Meanwhile, Cas returned to the kitchen to make up a can of vegetable soup and buttered toast. While he found the pots and plates in the kitchen, Dean’s eyes danced around the ceiling of the cottage, then took in the furniture.

“This place reminds me of somewhere,” he commented, the first words he’d spoken in some time.

“Where?” Cas asked.

Dean tried to place it, thinking of any guest house he might’ve stayed at while travelling for events, but his mind came up with nothing. John favoured cheap motels when they weren’t at the farm, and with so many horses to look after they didn’t leave it often.

“I can’t remember,” said Dean.

Outside, the rain picked up, sounding against the cottage roof and hushening the rest of the world. Cas looked up from scraping butter across toast and said, “I’m glad you’re not out in that.”

That night Cas stayed with him, sharing the bed in the cottage’s pale blue bedroom, a white afghan draped only up to their waists in the warm night. One side hurt less to sleep on than the other, so Dean slept facing Cas, their arms and knees intertwined. Cas’ soft, even breaths did more for Dean’s peace of mind than anything else could’ve.

Still, he had a dream that didn’t seem like a dream. Watching his mother move through this cottage, her blond hair loosely braided, setting Sam down in a white wicker bassinet while Dean, just four years old, leaned over with her to make sure that Sam was okay, and to be there if his mom needed anything, like the hug she then wrapped Dean up in, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead.

He woke from the dream with an aching mix of feelings. Confusion and tenderness and a wish that he could’ve known how to make things right. In the moonlight he took in Cas’ sleeping face. Those dark eyelashes against his cheeks, his lips faintly parted. It struck him in a way that he hadn’t quite understood before that this was right. This was where he was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be with. This was the beginning of the life he wanted to have. The love he wanted to have. This was the choice he got to make.

It wasn’t about that final fight. It wasn’t about the fear of John or the feeling that he couldn’t return home. Dean wasn’t accepting whatever fate handed him: he was choosing this. He would choose a life with Cas, whatever that future might look like. He would choose someone who could heal rather than hurt. Who didn’t need to offer anything other than a lifetime of love and regard. Who believed in Dean and saw him as the person Dean wished himself to be. The person he could be with Cas’ love.

He fell asleep again with more love swelling his heart than he had ever known. This night had set him free.

#spirit of the west #alternate realities #these alt scenes often concern really critical moments of the story #so that's why they are often emotionally turbulent and surround the more serious events #but again we see that there's more than one way to reach the same place #but with different ways events would've played out

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octoberclidan · 11 months

Text

We're Gonna Look After You

Request: Hello I absolutely in love with your fics especially the platonic ones. May I request another one for TFW? Y/n is a kid with powers like scarlet witch and after being possessed by Amara she develops some PTSD and starts to be more ruthless in hunts and with the main villains. TFW is there to make y/n see herself as the good and joyfull kid she was before.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (all platonic)

Note: I only write readers as adults so the reader here doesn't have a specified age but is 18+. Dean refers to her as 'kid' though since he's Dean.

Story

[Y/N] woke up to shouting. Was that her name she heard? Her head hurt, there was a sharp pain in her temple. Her whole body ached, she felt exhausted. It was dark, there was no light wherever she was. Or maybe there was, were her eyes closed? She couldn't tell, she could only feel pain. The shouting was getting louder, it definitely sounded like her name. It was too loud, her ears were hurting, she was shaking. Was she crying? She felt lost, empty, dark. Her hands cupped her ears, trying to block out the shouting. She felt herself rocking back and forth, her knees pressed to her forehead, and then she heard a second voice. This one was higher pitched, it sounded a bit more like a scream than a shout. It sounded a lot like her own voice. "Get out, get out, stop shouting, leave me alone". It screamed. It sounded too close, almost like it was inside her. Was it her voice? Was she the one screaming? She couldn't tell. She couldn't think properly, her mind was muddled.

Warm hands covered hers and gently pulled them away from her ears. The warm hands came with a warm voice, it wasn't shouting anymore. The voice was kind, soft, almost pleading. It was saying her name over and over again. She felt one of the hands drift down to her chin, and it pulled her face up and away from her knees. A thumb stroked her cheek and she leaned into it out of pure instinct. It felt familiar, like home. She stayed like that before taking a shaky breath and forcing her eyes open. Her vision was blurry from the tears, but she knew the face in front of her. She knew those green eyes, the freckles, the concern.

"Dean?" She whispered.

[Y/N] was taken in by Team Free Will a couple of years ago, when Dean was dealing with the Mark of Cain. They had found her on a hunt, being the lone survivor of a coven of witches who were into experimenting. She had been held captive for several years and had undergone countless experimental curses, spells, and potions by the coven, as a human test subject. Although they had kept others captive, [Y/N] was the only one still alive when Sam and Dean broke into the mansion she was being kept in. They found out very soon after that the experiments had left [Y/N] with certain powers and abilities; she could move objects with her mind, get inside people's heads, warp the reality around them.

She had no family, no friends, no money, and nowhere to go. Dean wasn't too happy with Sam's suggestion to take her in for awhile, since he said she was too dangerous, but he eventually gave in when he realised there wasn't anything else they could really do with her. They couldn't send her to Jody since her powers were too unpredictable, and they couldn't let her go off on her own without having her powers under control. Dean had suggested just killing her, complaining that they didn't have time to take her in, that dealing with the Mark was more important, but Sam had quickly talked him out of that, considering she hadn't actually hurt anyone with her powers.

Dean ended up warming up to her after several weeks. They were a lot alike and enjoyed the same music and movies. They became close friends, and she also became close with both Sam and Cas. She earned a permanent place in Team Free Will by helping Sam and Cas find a way to cure Dean after he became a demon, and also helped in removing the Mark, unknowingly setting Amara loose on the world. Although Amara had left with Chuck and everything seemed to be alright again, there were rumours that she was back. Several months back, Dean and [Y/N] were out following a lead when they found her. Her vessel had weakened, and it was struggling to hold her. After a brief altercation, Amara took [Y/N]'s body. [Y/N]'s strength and power only fuelled Amara, and Amara became more powerful than ever in her new vessel. She had disappeared only a few minutes after possessing [Y/N], leaving Dean alone. He was angry at himself for letting [Y/N] get taken, she had become extremely important to him ever since she'd helped him with the Mark. He knew they would get her back, he just didn't know how long it would take or what state she'd be in. He had seen people after they'd been possessed by demons and angels and archangels; a lot of them lost their minds or would die not long after. He couldn't bring himself to imagine what sort of damage the Darkness was doing to [Y/N]'s mind and body.

They all knew they needed to find her as soon as possible, it had already been too long. The issue was, they had no leads. Amara was silent. She hadn't done anything, or at least anything that would leave a trace. It was like she'd just disappeared again. When there were a sudden and quick series of disturbances in a nearby town, the boys raced over and burst into an abandoned wearhouse, where they finally found her.

"Yeah, it's me, I'm here". Dean studied her face, relief washing over him as he realised that it really was [Y/N], and Amara was nowhere to be seen. "Come here". He pulled her close to his chest and she closed her eyes. Everything was still too loud, too bright for her. She tried to focus on the sound of his heartbeat, which was steady beneath her ear. She grabbed a fistful of his flannel, scared that if she let go she would be lost again. "Sam, you drive". She heard him say before she was lifted up. She kept her grip on him and tucked her head into his shoulder as he carried her outside to the car. She was vaguely aware of a conversation happening between Dean and Sam, but she wasn't listening. She did note that Sam's voice sounded just as concerned as Dean's. The only word she understood was 'Cas', though she didn't hear his voice.

She started to become more aware of her surroundings once they were in the car. She could hear the rumble of the engine, and she was laying in the backseat with her head in Dean's lap. Their seemingly wordless conversation began to make sense. She kept her eyes closed, the brightness still too much, but she squeezed Dean's hand to tell him she was awake. He soothingly stroked her hair as she spoke to Sam.

"What did Cas say?" She heard Dean ask.

"He said he'll meet us back at the bunker. I don't know if there's much he can help with, it's not like she has a broken arm or a scratch, Dean. It's her mind. You know we might have to-"

"We're going to put her to bed. Cas can take a look at her and we'll go from there". Dean cut Sam off.

"Dean-"

"I don't want to hear it Sam, just drive".

"You know she's lost control of her powers before, and how bad it was, if she's not in the right headspace then she's dangerous Dean. We'll need to put her somewhere other than her bedroom".

"You want to tie her up? She's just spent the last few months trapped inside her body while God's sister possessed her. You've been possessed by a demon, an angel, even Lucifer, can you image how bad the fucking Darkness was? And you want to put her in a dungeon?"

"Of course I don't want to Dean". Sam snapped at him. "I care about her just as much as you do. I locked you up when you were a demon, you locked me up when I was high on demon blood, sometimes you have to do shit you don't want to do". [Y/N] felt the car come to a stop and heard a door slam before the door beside her and Dean opened.

"What the fuck are you doing? We need to get her back to the bunker!"

"We need to have this conversation".

"She needs rest".

"We don't know what she needs. She's been gone for months, possessed by possibly the most powerful thing there is all of existence".

"Sam-"

"Dean. Listen to me. You know what she can do, she could destroy an entire town easily, especially if her mind isn't right".

"Her mind is fine". Dean defended her and she heard Sam let out a sigh of frustration.

"What are you doing? You know she's dangerous". Sam scoffed. "You wanted to kill her when we first found her because of how dangerous she is. Now you won't take any precautions at all? I'm not saying we lock her up forever and throw away the key. I'm saying we keep her somewhere secure until we know that the damage is and how to fix it". [Y/N] heard Dean take a deep breath, about to continue the argument but she managed to speak up and interrupt them.

"It's okay, Sam's right". She whispered. She opened her eyes and looked up at Dean. His frustrated expression softened as he looked down at her, and he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"We're gonna look after you kid, okay?" He said.

"[Y/N], we're going to get you back to the bunker and Cas will take a look at you, get a better idea of what to do". She looked up to Sam as he spoke. She noticed that his eyes were red, clearly upset by the situation. She nodded at him before closing her eyes again and grabbing at Dean's flannel again. Sam closed the door and got back in to the driver's side and started the car up again. The boys didn't talk for the rest of the drive, and Dean gently tracing his thumb over [Y/N]'s cheek quickly sent her to sleep.

***

It was dark when she woke up; too dark. [Y/N] began to panic, it felt like she was suffocating in the darkness. She couldn't catch her breath, for a moment she thought she was still being possessed. She managed to gulp in a breath of air and when she let it out, it came out as a scream. Light flooded the room and she could just about make out a figure coming towards her. She quickly pushed herself backwards, her hand reaching behind her for support but finding none. He hand hit emptiness and she fell backwards, hitting her back on the cold concrete floor. Looking up she could see that she'd fallen off a bed. It wasn't her bed, this wasn't her bedroom, and as her vision adjusted she could see that this was a safe room in the bunker.

"Are you okay?" The figure crouched down next to her and Cas's face came into view. "Here, let me check". He reached his fingers out to her forehead but she quickly swatted them away. All of the sudden stimulation was agitating her, she wanted to quiet and darkness. She never thought she'd want to see the dark again after being trapped in it for so long, but she felt that she needed it.

"Don't touch me. I'm fine".

"Why won't you let me help you?" Cas looked confused, and hurt that she didn't want him to touch her. He had healed her on plenty of hunts before.

"I don't need your help".

"What's going on? I heard a scream". [Y/N] moved her gaze from Cas to see Dean standing in the doorway looking down at them. "Did you fall off the bed? Are you hurt?" He rushed over to them and knelt down beside Cas, about to reach his hand out to grab her shoulder.

"Get OFF". She shouted and pushed her hand out, using her abilities to force Dean back as he slid back against the floor until he hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. He stared at her in disbelief as her eyes glowed red, and Cas rushed towards him to check for injury. She curled up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on top of them. "Please get out". She muttered.

"[Y/N]-" Cas started.

"I said, get out. Please". She didn't look up at him. She didn't want to see his face, or Dean's. She knew she would see hurt and disappointment on them, probably fear too, and she didn't want to see any of that. She didn't want to see anything.

***

She was left alone for the rest of the day. She knew the door was locked, and they'd probably put up every bit of warding that they could think of to keep her in, but she didn't try to get out. She didn't want to face any of them. She didn't know whether it was night or day with the lack of a window, and she didn't know how long she spent curled up on the floor, when she heard a buzzing. Slowly lifting her head, she looked around the room but couldn't see anything. She took a deep breath before forcing herself to get up, using the bed as support. She felt the vibrations under her fingers as she leaned on the bed, and she looked down to see her phone, and two texts from Sam. She unlocked her phone to read them.

9:34pm: Sam: Hey, I just want you to know that Dean and Cas aren't upset with you or anything, they get it, you just need space.

9:35pm: Sam: Also, if you need anything, just text or call. At least one of us will be in the bunker at all times. We're here if you need us. Love you.

She sighed and put the phone back on the bed. She felt frustrated, angry, but also strangely calm. The room was quiet, it was dark, and she was alone. She lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Why was she still alive? Why had Amara left? All she could remember was dark emptiness, for months, and then suddenly everything was bright and loud and Dean was there. Her body had been used for months, she had no idea what for, but she knew she needed to find Amara. She needed answers, and she needed revenge. Her mind wandered to different scenarios where she faced the Darkness again, and how that might play out. The scenarios slowly turned to dreams as she fell asleep.

***

[Y/N] stayed in the room for three days without contacting anyone. Cas had brought down food and water at regular intervals, but she never acknowledged him as he came or went. The brothers hadn't come down, probably thinking Cas was safest if she used her powers again, but both Sam and Dean had texted her to see if she wanted to talk, wanted to get out, or if she needed anything. She'd ignored them. When she woke up on the fourth day, she decided that she needed to get out and find Amara. The only way to do that was convince the guys that she was okay. So, she texted Sam that morning asking for him to come down and talk to her.

"Hey, I brought you some breakfast". Sam said he walked into the room. [Y/N] was sitting on the edge of the bed and she noticed how unsure Sam looked.

"Can you sit with me?" She asked, and the worry on his face changed to confusion, which he quickly caught and changed it to a smile.

"Yeah, sure, of course". He brought the tray over and sat down beside [Y/N]. She took the tray from him and started to eat.

"How... how are you?" Sam asked.

"I feel better. I don't remember anything, just dark and quiet, that's why I was kinda overwhelmed when you guys found me. Too much light and noise".

"That's understandable. So you don't remember anything at all?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No, one minute I was with Dean, we were fighting Amara, then nothing. For months, nothing. Then you found me".

"We looked for you, every single day [Y/N], I promise".

"I know". She smiled and him and reached over to place her hand on his. "I know".

"Do you wanna come back out? Dean and Cas are both out at the moment so it's just us. I can turn the lights down low if that would make it easier?"

"I'd like to go to my own room if that's okay? I'm okay with the light now I think".

"Yeah of course, come on, I'll walk with you". Sam stood up and offered [Y/N] his hand to help her up off the bed. "I'll clear up the food, don't worry about it". He smiled and opened up the door for them and walked her to her room in the bunker. When she got to her room she sat on her bed and started to look through her phone at all of the texts she'd been ignoring. "Is it okay if Dean or Cas come check in on you later? I know they've missed you. If you'd rather they wait a bit longer that's fine, just let me know either way". Sam said as he stood in her doorway.

"I think I just want to rest today, but maybe later this evening they could say hello?"

"Sure, got it. You need anything you just let me know". He offered her another smile before leaving and closing her door. [Y/N] sat back against the headboard and pulled her laptop over and opened it up. She was going to see if she could find anything that could point to where Amara had gone. She was going to get answers to her questions.

***

It was 11pm when Dean and Cas came knocking on her bedroom door. When she opened it up to them they were both smiling down at her, though she could tell they looked a bit uncomfortable, unsure of what they were going to be greeted with. "Hey Sweetheart, how are you doing?" Dean asked as she stood back from the door, letting them in.

"Just tired, but feeling more like myself".

"Could I take a look at you now?" Cas asked and she nodded, letting him press his fingers to her forehead. "You don't seem to have any physical injuries". He smiled at her.

"I'm really sorry for shouting at you before. And Dean, I'm really, really sorry for pushing you back like that. I hope you weren't hurt".

"Nah I was fine, don't worry about it. Sam said you were just feeling overwhelmed, it's all good". Dean said as he took a seat in the chair in the corner of her room. Cas sat down on the edge of her bed and she sat down beside him. It was quiet at first, but then Cas brought up the fact that he'd been up in heaven the previous day, and [Y/N] listened intently for any mention of Amara or her whereabouts. He said that the angels suspected she was hiding away back in Hell, off earth and away from prying eyes. She was happy to get a lead, but she tried to keep it off her face to avoid the boys suspecting her intentions. It was nearing midnight when she yawned, genuinely tired, and realised that she had been leaning her head against Cas's shoulder for awhile now.

"Looks like you should be getting some sleep. Come on Cas, let's let her get some rest". Dean said as he stood up. He walked over to them and bent down, pressing his lips to the top of her hair. "Night [Y/N], we'll see you in the morning". Cas wrapped an arm around her and gave her a light squeeze before standing up and following Dean out of the room. Once they were gone, [Y/N] began getting dressed into clothes more suitable for hunting, and she packed her bag with summoning supplies. She knew she'd have to wait a bit longer before she could sneak out, but at least now she had a plan and knew how to get some more information; Crowley.

***

At 3am, [Y/N] snuck out of the bunker. She was met by a sleeping Dean who was passed out at the map table, a bunch of papers and a laptop spread out in front of him; he'd been looking for Amara too. She managed to make it out without disturbing him, and she walked away from the bunker. She needed to find a secluded area where she could summon Crowley without anyone seeing. She didn't go too far, maybe walking for 30 minutes or so into the forest area behind the bunker. She came to a small clearing and began to lay out the supplies she'd brought. She was finishing up the incantation when she heard him.

"Well, this is a surprise".

"Crowley".

"[Y/N], tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where is Amara?"

"Last I heard, hitching a ride in you".

"She left me days ago, you can't tell me you're not aware of that. I know you had to be keeping tabs on her".

"This is the first I'm hearing of it". He shrugged and smirked at her. "Where is the rest of your tragic team? You're out here in the middle of the night on your own, after spending months possessed? Can't image any of them would be happy with that". He clicked his tongue as he shook his head disapprovingly at her.

"I can handle being out on my own, you know I can knock you down with a flick of my wrist". She glowed her red eyes at him and he glowed his back in return.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" [Y/N] froze and Crowley smiled, glancing above her head.

"Hello Squirrel".

"Crowley? Seriously [Y/N]?"

"I need to get answers Dean". She folded her arms and turned her back to Crowley to face Dean.

"I get that, I do, trust me, but we work together. You can't go wandering off on your own in the middle of the night to summon demons in the middle of nowhere".

"We were just having a nice conversation, a catch up really". Crowley said and Dean glared at him and pointed a finger at him.

"You shut up. Go back to Hell, be useful for once and find Amara". He moved his finger then to point at [Y/N]. "You come back to the bunker with me now, we need to talk".

"What, am I in trouble? I can take care of myself".

"Yeah? And if you come across Amara what exactly are you going to do to stop her from possessing you again? You couldn't do shit last time".

[Y/N] didn't have an answer to this. She just rolled her eyes before turning back around to Crowley, but he was gone. She sighed and began to collect her stuff and put it back into her bag, avoiding Dean's gaze as she did so. They walked back to the bunker in silence, and were met with Cas and Sam once they got back.

"Where did you go?" Sam asked as they walked down the steps.

"She decided to meet with Crowley". Dean explained as [Y/N] attempted to walk straight past them and to her room. She was promptly stopped by Sam's hands on her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" He looked down at her and she was surprised to see no trace of anger, only concern.

"Yeah, I just want to go to bed, so please excuse me". She shrugged Sam's hands off her and left the three of them standing there while she went to her room. She was sure they were going to stay up for awhile talking about her, but she just shut her door and got into her bed, trying to push everything out of her head so she could sleep.

***

The next few weeks were tough. She was on lockdown, at least one of the boys were always either in the same room as her, or by the entrance of the bunker. There was no way she was getting out again on her own. She hadn't actually left the bunker at all since her meeting with Crowley. She had taken to sitting in her room a lot, sifting through online reports of unusual activity, or looking through the bunker's archives under the supervision of Sam, or occasionally being forced to watch a movie or Netflix with either Dean or Cas. She also tended to see at least one of them every night when she'd wake up screaming, usually from a nightmare where she felt like she was drowning or suffocating in darkness.

She wasn't actively avoiding them during the day, she'd had conversations with each of them, and as time went on she was talking to them more and more, but she needed to get out of the bunker. One morning when she was having breakfast with all of them in the kitchen, she was relieved to hear a 'so get this' from Sam as he scrolled through something on his laptop. He read out an article which sounded very much like a werewolf, only an hour or so from the bunker. Dean had asked Cas to stay behind with her while he and Sam went out on the case, but she immediately argued and said she needed to get out and hunt something. After a long conversation, they eventually all agreed to let her go with them on the condition that she always stay within eyesight of one of them.

***

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, his grip tight on the steering wheel. He was driving the Impala with Sam beside him, and [Y/N] and Cas in the back. They were all covered in blood and dirt from the hunt, which turned out to be three werewolves. "I'm talking to you [Y/N]". Dean glared at her in the rearview mirror when she didn't say anything.

"What was what?"

"Oh please, don't play dumb with me. You know what, you basically let that werewolf sink its claws into your shoulder".

"No I didn't, it caught me off guard".

"You literally have powers, you can sense everything around you, there's no way you would let a wolf get that close to you if you weren't distracted". Sam said as he turned around in his seat to face her. "We shouldn't have brought you out with us, it was too soon".

"I'm not a child". She glared at him.

"Could've fooled me". Dean said and she moved her glare from Sam to the back of Dean's head.

"I saw you freeze. You saw the werewolf coming for you and you didn't do anything". Cas said. [Y/N] swallowed nervously, afraid her tough exterior wasn't as convincing as she thought it was, and looked out of her window, avoiding eye contact with any of them. She couldn't argue with Cas after he'd just healed her.

"[Y/N], we're just worried about you. The nightmares, the obsessive researching, you're not yourself. We miss you, we just want you to be okay".

"I'll be okay when we find and kill Amara". She said, not taking her eyes off the window but she could tell they were exchanging looks behind her.

"Let us help you. Let us be there for you". Sam said, but she didn't reply. They didn't try to talk to her for the rest of the ride home.

***

The darkness was back. [Y/N] was drowning, there was no light, no way to know which way was up. She couldn't find a way out, she was stuck. She held her breath for as long as she could, her heart beating fast, tears streaming down her face. Her lungs were burning when she finally opened her mouth, a scream escaping. She struggled to catch her breath when she realised she was no longer in complete darkness, but she could see the desk in the corner of her room, the glow of her laptop on it. She was in her bed, she was safe for now. Her door opened and Sam rushed in, going straight to her bedside.

"Hey, hey, breathe. You're okay, you're in the bunker, you're safe". He pulled her towards him and she grabbed his shirt, still crying and struggling to breathe. "Match my breathing, take some nice deep breaths, come on, I've got you". He ran his hand up and down her back slowly. She slowly regained control over her breathing. Normally at this stage after a nightmare she would urge them to leave her alone, convincing them that she was okay. This time however, the tears didn't stop. She cried into Sam's shirt and he held her, just letting her get it out.

"I-I need y-your help". She sniffed and kept her grip on him tight.

"You have my help. And Dean's, and Cas'. We're here for you, okay? You're safe with us. We'll get you your answers, but we need to do it the right way". She nodded into his shoulder. They stayed like that for some time, Sam continuing to whisper comforting words in her ear and stroke her back while she gradually stopped crying. When she pulled back from him he wiped her eyes. "Come back to us. We need you too". She nodded at him. She missed the old version of herself too. She missed enjoying movie nights with Dean, enjoying documentaries with Cas, enjoying research and working out with Sam. She missed going on hunts and working together. It had all felt like a chore ever since she got back. She had been treating everything like an unnecessary distraction from looking for Amara. She missed who she was.

"Hey kiddo". She looked up to see Dean in her doorway, Cas standing behind him.

"Hey". Her voice was quiet. She stood up, Sam supporting her, and she walked over to Dean. She briefly made eye contact with him before leaning into him and burying her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. He hugged her back, one hand pressing onto her back and the other on her head. He kissed the top of her head.

"I've missed you". He murmured into her hair.

"I'm sorry".

"We'll help you, but you've got to work with us".

"I will".

"Good". Dean cleared his throat when she pulled away from him, looking up she could see his eyes were watery. Cas walked around him and he pulled her into a hug of his own.

"I'm sorry I've been distant Cas". She said.

"It's okay, maybe we can watch that new bee documentary tomorrow?" He asked, his eyes full of hope.

"Yeah, that would be nice". She looked from him to Dean, and from Dean to Sam. "I'm really lucky to have all of you".

"We're lucky to have you too". Cas said and he tightened his hug. It was going to be some time before she was back to being her old self again, but she was ready to try. She felt loved, and she decided that was enough for now, the revenge could wait. She knew they wanted Amara gone just as much as she did, and she knew they worked best when they all worked together. It would be a long journey, but tomorrow at least would be better, a step in the right direction.

The end

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corinthianism · 6 months

Text

last kiss | sam winchester (5)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst warning(s): implied/referenced non-con

masterlist | previous chapter | ao3

CHAPTER FIVE: TEN SECONDS

You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t even know how much time has passed since Lucifer took you away. He stashed you in some house. It looked like a normal suburban home, except it seemed he used his amped-up archangel abilities to essentially create a whole pocket dimension for you. On a surface level, every day felt like a normal day. Night and day passed just the same as it would in the real world. You had neighbors, and they were both familiar and unfamiliar. “Dean” lived right across the street whilst “Bobby” and “Cas” lived right next to you. The other houses were occupied by random people you didn’t know. It was like a bad djinn hallucination.

The routine was always the same: wake up, eat, try to kill time, sleep, repeat. In the beginning, you thought you were just having a bad dream; that Dean, Bobby, and Cas were really there with you. However, when you tried talking to them, they were way too out of character. Dean acted like a stereotypical macho man with absolutely no personality whatsoever, Bobby’s parental instincts towards you were taken to new heights in an almost cartoony way, and Cas was a helpless imbecile.

Then there was Sam. Sam was the only one who acted like himself. You’d wake up next to him, eat meals with him. You did everything you normally did with him, except in this weird world, you weren’t hunters. It felt eerily similar to the dreams you’ve had before.

He kissed you, touched you in ways the real him would never have the courage to do, but you refused to sleep with him. No matter how many times he tried to initiate it. He wasn’t real, and this was all wrong.

He would leave at exactly 9am everyday. Those first few days, you tried finding a way to escape. You tried talking to your “friends”. You tried hurting them. You tried pleading with Sam. When nothing else worked, you tried killing him.

And he was dead. For a while. The very next day, you woke up next to him again, as if nothing happened. After that, you resigned to just doing whatever you could to not be present in the moment. You played the role of housewife, because there was nothing else you could do.

Until now.

You woke up again, expecting to see the same cream-colored walls and smell the same ever-present smell of lavender. Instead, you were in an unfamiliar room.

The first thing that hit you was that it was rancid compared to what you were used to, as if somebody tried to hide the smell of a dead body with some berry-scented perfume. You turned around, and there was Sam. He donned a fully white suit, his hair uncharacteristically slicked back.

“You’ve been very impressive,” he winked at you, taking his hands out of his pockets to give you a mocking slow clap. This was Lucifer and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find a trace of Sam. “For someone so in love with him, you did a bang-up job of… well, not banging him.”

You didn’t answer.

“Aww, come on now. Giving me the silent treatment?” he stepped forward. “What if I told you… he could still hear you if you talked to him? Not that he would be able to answer. Not unless I wanted him to, of course.”

That got your attention, and it gave you a boost of courage that had otherwise been taken from you. You ran towards him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Sam? Sam! Listen to me, if you’re in there, you’ve gotta fight it! Take back control, Sam!” you pleaded desperately, your last attempt in getting your best friend back.

His expression changed, and suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders. His body language and the cadence of his voice changed as well, and for a moment, all hope was not lost. It was as if the clouds parted to reveal the sun. This was your Sam.

“You’ve got to get out of here,” he pushed you away, looking around frantically for an exit for you to use. “You have to stay away from me, you have to—”

You took several steps back, turning around to grab the doorknob, only to find that the door was just part of the wallpaper, “What—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” it echoed from behind you. You turned around slowly, and “Sam” was standing perfectly still and upright once again. “Naughty Sam. Naughty you.”

He approached you, stopping right in front of you before he looked you up and down like a predator assessing its prey.

“So, it’s just you and me now, princess,” he tilted your chin upward to have you look at him. “You know, I can see inside Sammy’s head, and my, my, my… the thoughts he has about you aren’t as innocent as you think they are.”

You scowled at him, even if it was unnatural for you to do such a thing to Sam. This wasn’t Sam anymore, you had to remember that.

“Remember… Jessica? Oh, I bet that one broke your heart. The love of your life going off to some fancy Ivy League and getting a pretty blonde… well, if it’s any consolation, he was always thinking of you. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason he could get off whenever he was inside her.”

He laughed, as if he said the funniest thing in the world. He traced hearts and random shapes on your cheek, his laughter dying down into a contented sigh.

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together,” he finally said, his hand sliding down to your neck, and then to the collar of your button-down plaid shirt. He unbuttoned it once, “Sammy’s screaming at me right now. It’s very annoying.”

He unbuttoned another one, “I don’t see why he’s not enjoying this more, honestly. After all, this is what he wanted. If anything, I’m doing him a favor.”

He leaned closer, and you desperately tried to slow down your breathing. Your heart was pounding, so much so that you were almost sure that Lucifer could hear it. You always wanted Sam, but not like this. Lucifer knew that, and so he would do exactly what he wanted.

Lucifer, in a mission to ruin you forever, took more and more of your dignity with each button he removed. Finally, when your skin was on display for only him to see, a wide grin appeared on his face. Sam’s face.

“You’re never going to be the same after this,” he promised, and all you could do was hide somewhere in your mind where even the devil couldn’t find you.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Lucifer took you to a cemetery, whispering in your ear about how once Michael showed up, you were gonna see the greatest battle in history. Of course, Lucifer would win.

Ever since that night, you felt like a prisoner of your mind. It was both your safe place and your punishment. You tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t Sam; that it was Lucifer who stole your dignity. Sam would never… Sam could never hurt you the way Lucifer had.

Even in the presence of two archangels, you stayed silent, and accepted your fate. Half of the world was gonna burn to the ground when this was all over, and you just hoped that your death would be quick. You felt sick when Michael looked at you, something akin to both disgust and pity written all over his face.

Then, the familiar rev of Baby’s engine reached your ears. Your head shot up, seeing the Dean riding the Impala into the graveyard, right in front of Michael and Lucifer.

Dean got out of the car, his eyes immediately flickering over to you in worry, but he pressed forward and marched right up to the two archangels.

“Hey, we need to talk.”

Lucifer scoffed, “Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Sam.”

“You’re no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.”

Dean turned to Michael, his voice filled with sincerity and regret, “Adam, if you’re in there somewhere, I’m so sorry.”

“Adam isn’t home right now.”

Castiel and Bobby arrived, with Cas throwing a can of holy fire at Michael to keep him at bay. This irked Lucifer, who then snapped his fingers. Cas exploded, leaving behind bits and pieces of blood and flesh.

“You know… I tried to be nice, for Sammy’s sake. But you are… such a pain in my ass,” he threw Dean against the windshield of the Impala.. Bobby shot at Lucifer’s back, prompting Lucifer to twist his hand. Bobby’s neck snapped.

Your eyes widened, two of the people you cared about was just murdered by Lucifer, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna do something about it. You ran towards Lucifer, trying to get him away from Dean. With a flick of his hand, you were thrown against a nearby tree. The impact was enough to knock you out for a few seconds, your vision falling in and out of darkness.

You laid motionless on top of the pile of dry, dead leaves, unable to do anything but watch. Lucifer got closer to Dean, grabbing him by the legs and then punching him.

“No!” was what you wanted to say, but nothing came out. You could feel a branch poking at the skin of your back.

Lucifer kept punching Dean, over and over until Dean’s face was barely recognizable.

Then something happened.

His fist was still raised in the air, and you could see the internal war raging inside him. His hands shook, and his grip on the collar of Dean’s shirt loosened. There was a glint in his eyes, one that told you whether or not the body you were talking to was Lucifer or Sam. You held your breath, eyes lasered in his face, not sure if the person in front of you was your Sam.

For him, it felt like time had stopped. There was no apocalypse. No Lucifer. No Michael, no nothing.

All he could see was the toy soldier stuck in the Impala’s ashtray. That was enough for him. The sight of the toy, the memories etched into the car, the image of his bloodied brother in front of him who, even then, was still unwilling to fight.

The memories didn’t hit him like an outside force, they came from him, blossomed from a place he forgot about. Locked in a treasure chest he kept in the deepest corners of his soul, where not even the devil could touch it. Clear as day, he relived every single one, and with each memory, the clearing grew wider. He could crawl out and push Lucifer back.

He saw it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. He remembered sticking that toy in the ash tray, and the stern, drunken scolding that he got from his dad soon after. He remembered him and Dean etching their initials on the car door. He remembered the fireworks. The countless nights of booze and fastfood takeout. Lying down on the hood of the car to watch the stars whenever they were in between cases. All the times Dean saved his ass, yelled at him, laughed with him, and everything in between.

His eyes met yours, and the sight of you broke his heart all over again.

Sam didn’t have much time. This much he knew. He could feel the mind-melting, soul-breaking pain of Lucifer scratching at his walls— no, he was tearing them down, howling to be in control once more. Sam could hear every single scream and whisper that Lucifer was filling his ears with and it was too much. In his gut swelled the familiar hatred that the fallen archangel harbored for humanity, and it wasn’t the boiling hot rage that most people would expect. It was the kind of hatred that flowed through each and every single blood vessel in your body; the kind that only a being as old as the devil could feel. It was quiet, deadly. It was the kind of hatred that consumed you, built up from eons of being locked in a cage like an animal. Lucifer blurred the lines between his anger and Sam’s, and that scared the younger Winchester.

But standing there with you, seeing you as if it was the first time, Sam thought he could bear it, if only a little while longer. Standing there with you made it clear that that hatred couldn’t possibly be his own, because how could he ever hate you? No, Sam Winchester loved you, and it came to him as easy as breathing.

More memories broke through, and this time, they’re of you. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. The sound of your laughter in the early morning. The time you helped him make a girl jealous in 8th grade when it was really just an excuse to be close to you. The time you kissed him when you were as high as a kite after getting your wisdom teeth removed.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of your lips on his and pretend that everything was alright. Lucifer would not take this away from him.

Finally, Sam lowered his fist and gasped as his senses were flooded with everything. You could almost sob in relief, if it wasn’t for the fact that it wouldn’t be long until Michael and Lucifer came back with a vengeance, but nothing could ever be worse than what would come next. Sam took several steps back, rummaging through his pocket to retrieve the Four Horsemen’s rings. Your muscles ached as you tried to get back up, but nothing could trump the pain in your chest as you watched Sam slowly back away from Dean.

It’s cruel, probably the cruelest thing that the universe threw at you. You had seconds of clarity, and they were the seconds counting down to the love of your life’s suicide. Sam looked at Dean, and then at you, and you almost wished he didn’t. For a moment, you thought that maybe this was all some one sick, twisted nightmare and that you were gonna wake up any minute now. You blinked, but Dean was still beaten and bloody and Sam still felt so far away. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Even now, he still tried to keep on a brave face for you. It almost made you smile. A tiny part of you hoped that maybe the apocalypse wouldn’t be so bad as long as you went down with him. Almost as if you wanted Lucifer to win just so you could keep Sam in the only way you could. The thought passed as quickly as it came, all while feeling like a knife had been twisted in your stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay, I got him,” he breathed heavily, stepping away from you and Dean even further. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He sounded as if he didn’t really believe himself either.

He pulled out the Horsemen’s rings from his pocket and threw them on the ground, chanting the incantation to open the cage. The ground shook, and before you knew it, a large pit had opened up in the soil. From where you stood, all you could see was a black void, but you knew what it was. It was hell. It was the deepest, darkest, most depraved part of hell and Sam was going in with a one-way ticket.

“Sammy,” your voice broke. He turns his head to look at you again. You didn’t know what to say. Did you want to stop him? Jump into the pit with him? Profess your undying love for him?

None of those options seemed right. The clock was ticking.

Ten.

You could see how scared he was, his hands trembled with the weight of what he was about to do. You wanted to go up to him, hold him, tell him that he was going to be okay, but you couldn’t. It was dangerous, yes, but you knew that if you took even just one step closer to him, you wouldn’t let him go.

Nine.

“I’m sorry,” he called you. “For everything.”

He took another step back. He knew what Lucifer did to you, and it crushed him. It took everything in him to not go to you and protect you the way he wanted to. To beg for your forgiveness.

Eight.

“Sam, please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. You looked over at Dean, trying to get him to back you up. World be damned, you won’t fucking lose Sam. Dean could only stare back at you, his head hung low in defeat. He was letting go, and he was telling you to do the same.

Seven.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and Sam yelled at you and Dean to stay back. Even though it broke your heart to do so, you did as he asked, scurrying over to Dean’s side to help him get away from Sam. Dean grunted in pain, clutching your hand that was on his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Six.

Sam called your name, and nothing was more important. You stood up, heart clenched in anticipation.

“I need,” he took a deep breath. “I need you to know.”

Five.

“Need to know what, Sam?” a cry escaped your lungs.

“That it’s always been you,” he smiled sadly, voice barely heard over the chaos. “It was always gonna be you.”

It was odd, the way the heat rushed to your cheeks. The way your own heart beat twice, thrice as fast than it already was. You could almost let the world around you fade away. There was only Sam.

He spoke again, a little louder, a little braver, “You know that, right?”

Four.

“I know,” you tried to stifle your sobs. His admission hung in the air, filling your lungs with everything that was him. He loved you, and you always knew.

“That’s my girl,” he kept smiling, determined to make sure that that was the last thing you saw. He didn’t want you to remember his death. He just wanted you to remember him.

Sam knew why you didn’t say it, and it was for the same reason he did. It was better this way. Saying those three words would set things in stone, and especially now that he was seconds away from his death, he didn’t see the point of hurting you that much more.

Three.

Michael returned, a wave of unseen energy washing over you and Dean at his arrival. His anger distorted Adam’s young face. Panic overtook the anger, however, when he noticed just how close Sam was from jumping off the edge.

Two.

Sam closed his eyes, letting gravity pull him in. Michael screamed, rushing over to stop Sam from falling in. For a split-second, you feared the worst would come to pass. That Michael would save Sam and just resume his world-ending battle with Lucifer.

Sam’s eyes shot open when Michael’s hands tried to get him away from the pit but immediately, his gaze flickered over to you.

You, with the pain of a thousand lifetimes weighing on you, and the cuts and bruises and tears to show for it.

You, with the laughter that pulled him out of every nightmare on the days when his own mind wouldn’t let him rest.

You, with the proud, contagious smile after every hilariously bad joke, all because you wanted to see him smile, too.

His heart was yours, perhaps it had been since the beginning, but Sam knew one thing: this world was better with you in it.

With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed Michael by the lapel of Adam’s jacket, and pulled him into the pit.

Sam was gone.

One.

When the pit closed up and left nothing but the Four Horsemen’s rings behind, you forced yourself to move away from Dean and approach the rings, kneeling by the spot where the pit just was. The world was safe again, though you didn’t know how long that would last. The grass was soft under the palm of your hand, as if there wasn’t a massive doorway to hell there just moments prior. You let yourself cry; to truly pour your heart out for someone who wouldn’t be able to hear it.

You would never have another morning coffee run with him or another all-nighter spent on researching monster lore. No more pop culture debates or stitching up each other’s wounds. You would never make him smile, ruffle his hair, or hold his hand again, nor would you feel him keeping an eye on you while you slept.

Since before you hunted your first monster, Sam had been by your side. Now that you didn’t have him, it felt as though you weren’t a whole person. Like your very soul had been torn apart and its pieces were lost in the wind, never to be complete again.

Castiel returned, seemingly resurrected by none other than God Himself, and immediately helped Dean and Bobby get back up on their feet, all shiny and new. When he walked over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and heal all your wounds, you moved away. Your face was littered with small cuts from being thrown to the side by Lucifer, and you were sure there would be a massive bruise on your back from the impact.

You still refused to be healed.

“Let it be,” you told Cas quietly. He frowned, hesitant to heed your request, but he obliged anyway.

Seconds. It only took seconds for you to lose everything. You didn’t know what you were feeling; if only there was a word, any word, for you to explain to Dean, Cas, maybe Bobby, the way you felt everything and nothing at the same time.

Truth be told, you were lucky to have only lost one person, but the lingering question in your mind was why did it have to be the person who meant everything to you? There was no answer, and the silence was the worst of it. Sam wasn’t there to tell you that he’s okay, and he won’t be able to ever again. Your injuries ached. You almost welcomed the discomfort, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

A large hand rested on your shoulder. It was Dean. You shared a look with him, a silent exchange of “I’m sorry” and “I’m here” to each other. In your grief, it was easy to forget that Dean had lost his baby brother, just as you had lost the love of your life. Moments later, Bobby stood beside the two of you. Three people brought together in grief that they weren’t sure they could ever recover from. You knew then and there, that you’d spend the rest of your life picking up the tiny little pieces of your heart, trying to be okay. Because that’s what Sam would’ve wanted.

You would never know so many things. The pain he’d go through. The fact that as he fell into the darkness, white-hot flames burning his flesh, he thought of you. Poked and prodded, stabbed and skinned, broken and put back together just to be broken again. What Sam knew, even if you didn’t, was that he’d make this same choice again and again because he knew you would be okay.

Sam Winchester died, and it came as easy to him as loving you.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester #jared padalecki #reader insert

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lazarus-rose · 10 months

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For @dreampencil

It was two days after Jack dropped Cas back on Earth that Dean told him.

Sam had left to spend the weekend with Eileen (later, Cas found out that he had done this at Dean’s request) so it was just the two of them, the man and the angel, left in the bunker. Dean made dinner for them (his homemade burgers, because he knew how much Cas loved them) and insisted they eat in the Deancave while watching a film. Cas had been unable to really take in much of the movie because, a few minutes in, Dean put an arm around his shoulders.

Cas can still remember the way his grace had sung at the contact while his body stiffened. He had turned to look at Dean only to find the man staring resolutely at the TV, his face looking unusually pink. Cas spent the whole movie watching Dean out of the corner of his eye.

Dean didn’t look at Cas until the credits began to roll. He glanced at him, blushing even more when he saw Cas was watching him. He cleared his throat before turning the TV off and turning to face him. He twisted his hands anxiously in his lap before reaching out and taking one of Cas’ hands in his.

Electricity danced under Cas’ skin, both figuratively and literally. He was out of practice with his full power and it was taking most of his remaining concentration to keep it from bursting out of him.

He could feel Dean’s soul, pulsing through his skin, Cas’ grace wrapping around it automatically and rejoicing at the feel of it. He could feel the callouses on Dean’s hands, rough against his palms. Both his physical body and his angelic one longed for Dean.

“Cas, I…” Dean looked away, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. He met Cas’ eyes again before continuing, “About what you said-”

“Dean, you don’t have-”

“Just, listen for a sec, okay?” Dean said, his hands tightening around Cas’. “I need to say this.” He took a deep breath. “Me too, Cas,” he said. “I love you too.”

Time seemed to slow. Cas felt like he was stuck between one breath and the next, suspended in this impossible moment.

His grace was the first thing to respond. Cas didn’t even notice the lights in the room growing brighter or the humming sound that accompanied the increased radiance. He only had eyes for Dean, just like back in the dungeon, when he had poured his heart out for the man he had fallen for.

Dean flinched suddenly, and then the room was plunged into darkness. It took Cas a second to realise that his grace had caused the lights to explode. He felt himself blushing in embarrassment as he pulled his grace back inside him, ashamed to have lost control.

He could feel Dean staring at him, could see the gleam of his eyes in the dark. And then the man chuckled.

“That was you, right?”

“Y-you love me?” Cas couldn’t focus on anything else.

Dean grew solemn again. “Yeah, I do.” When Cas didn’t respond, Dean tried to pull his hand back, but Cas latched onto his fingers, unwilling to let him go. Dean laughed again. “Dude, just…” He pulled his hands back gently and then reached out, blind in the darkness, until his searching fingers found Cas’ cheek.

Their first kiss was just as electric as the confession it followed. Cas was sure that, if the lightbulbs in the room weren’t already gone, they would have exploded again.

As time went on and their relationship progressed, Cas’ control of his powers got somewhat better around Dean, but it still wasn’t great. Dean loved seeing Cas unintentionally unleash his powers and sometimes deliberately went out of his way to make Cas lose control.

“Dean,” the angel warned him when he felt Dean’s fingers curling through his hair. The two of them were on their bed and Cas had his head resting in Dean’s lap.

“What?” Dean said innocently.

Cas opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, trying to appear stern. “You know what.”

Dean just smiled down at him before he began running his fingers through Cas’ hair. Cas could feel his grace responding, flowing out of his body and seeking out his beloved, radiating happiness and power. He didn’t protest again, even when he felt the power grow, spreading throughout the room and seeking out other sources of energy.

Cas sighed with both pleasure and resignation as the lights around them exploded. He looked up at Dean.

“Your eyes are glowing again,” the man told him, his hand moving to frame his face.

The grace shining through Cas’ eyes was enough to illuminate Dean’s cheeky grin.

“We’re going to have to replace the lightbulbs again,” Cas reminded him.

“Worth it,” Dean said. He leaned down and brushed their lips together briefly. “You know you’re awesome, right?”

Cas smiled. “So you’ve told me.”

#lazarus writes #destiel #fanfic #ficlet #fluff #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #destiel drabble

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valleydean · 7 months

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The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Link to fic Link to art

Brought to you by @deancashorrorfest

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

#destiel #deancas #endverse #deancas fic #destiel fic #deancas fanart #destiel art #dean winchester #castiel #cas #deancashorrorfest #sidewinder art #hawkland #my writing #horror au

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samlacy · 2 months

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Let me go, I’m starving

my first SPN as well as Ship fanfiction on here

I hope you like it :)) And Im sorry for the long ass hiatus…

Happy new years??

PLUS check out my ao3 Samlacy, I post on there!!

Summary:

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Sam gathers his words,

“Cas, please, just this once.”

————

The book slammed down on the floor by a strong force, hitting the wood, hard enough to make a noise that notified the whole apartment (if there was anyone), Sam was seriously pissed off.

Cas looked up from his palms to Sam sitting on the hotel chair, his laptop on the desk and some book on the floor.

His hands were gripping his hair, giving the impression he could pull out his long hair-strands right out of his head.

Which was not a pleasure to Cas, since he loved Sam’s silky, straight and long for a man hair.

Cas hopped off the Hotel bed and walked up to the book on the floor. He picks it up and puts it, gently, back on the desk, still keeping his hand on it while his eyes focused on the stressed individual.

Sam noticed the book with the hand on it and looked up to, expectedly, see Castiel.

Not that it was a bad thing that he was here the whole time he was tearing himself up about this case, but the fact that he had such a harsh expression on his face that it didn’t quite fit in either the angry or disappointed category.

“I’m sorry”, slipped out of Sam’s mouth, with no control. Why was he sorry? He didn’t hurt the Angel in any kind of way, did he?

“You’re good”, Castiel whisper-says as he took the hand off the book and instead pulled the other chair back to sit right across Sam.

The silence filled and Sam decided to just keep working and try to find at least something, anything on the Web. Although

Cas eyes were piercing through his head and he felt it.

The angel once again had a worry or suspicion on Sam, and he was oh-so-curious to know what it is now.

Its almost like Castiel always is suspicious of him!

But this time, Sam felt the mood shift a little as soon as Cas sighed and leaned back into his seat.

Sam’s heart was beating in his chest, just like it always did when him and Cas were somehow alone or he had an interaction with the angel.

He doesn’t know if it was a demon instinct or that he had a big fat “teenage” crush on the so called angel.

Sam will rather go with option one.

Or neither, if possible.

Its not like Sam wants to feel this way, especially when Cas is his brothers best friend (and maybe almost boyfriend). He honestly doesn’t know, but he does notice the tension between those two.

The way Dean gets soft to Cas, like he never was to Sam, it is quite the scene.

He can honestly just hope for those feelings to disappear completely one day, its not like Cas would love him anyway.

“How long are you gonna keep this up, Samuel?” Cas breathes out, hinting a bit of exhaustion in his voice, looking straight at Sam.

Sam’s eyes widen immediately as his shallow yet uncoordinated breathing followed up. He tried calming down, tried making it less obvious that he could go crazy any minute.

With as much calmness he can get to in the moment, he asks shakily, “What do you mean, keep up what?”

Slam.

Castiel slammed the laptop shut and was stood. Sams eyes were even more widened than before and had a hint of blush on his face, maybe also some reaction down there.

The Angel had a stern yet soft expression on his face as if he was genuinely sick, fed up of whatever Sam was doing.

The silence couldn’t be even more noisy after the slam, as it was exposing Sam’s shaky, caught off guard breathing.

Their eye contact was long and deep, as if Castiel could burn right through them any moment.

Ironically.

As it took long enough for Castiel to realize that this length of the pause was getting awkward and intense, he coughed and backed off, by standing straight in front of Sam.

He fixed his coat up a little before speaking, “You know. The avoiding of me, an angel, in your presence or maybe the lack of attention, even words, to me. Why is that?”

If Sam wasn’t nervous enough before, he might’ve hit the limit right now. His hands starting shaking as no words left his mouth, as if he froze in place.

What could he possibly reply to that?

Castiel got out of the way of the desk and walked to Sam’s side to cup the man by his cheek and turn his head to face him, the hand moving down to hold his chin up.

Sam’s lips turned dry and eyes were fixated on Castiel’s, blue like the Atlantic, eyes.

“I..”, Sam manages to get out, however didn’t help his case.

“Hm, tell me, Sam. What is up with the ignorance?”

Sam’s cheek heated up like crazy. His heart was basically already out of his chest beating like crazy. He managed to lick his lips and gulp down.

“Nothing, it’s nothing”, he breathed out trying to get out of Castiel’s grip, before he felt the tight squeeze and couldn’t move a bit.

Castiel sighed as he slightly loosen the grip, as to not hurt the man.

“You know that’s not true, Sammy”, the nickname made Sam’s head spin, do stuff to him.

‘Please, keep calling me that’ is what he wants to say, but how could he? It would only ruin everything that he tried so hard to build up between them.

Every single answer would ruin their friendship, relationship.

Why now, why exactly at the time he doesn’t know what to do?

“Do you like me, Samuel?”

Silence.

Dead silence.

No, no, no, no, no. Don’t call me that. Please, please, please! Please just everything, but not that.

How is he supposed to answer that? Was it even really a choice at the moment to answer or not.

Im your Sammy, so please call me that, please.

Cas let go of Sam’s face as he turned his head to the side and proceeds to walk out the room while mumbling a ‘whatever. It was a stupid question.’

“Yes”, was all he had to hear for Cas to turn back and freeze at where he stood before, in front of the (to the side turned) sitting boy.

“What?”

breathe.

“Yes, I do. I like you”, Sam felt a hole in his stomach, scared shitless of the possibilities of Cas’ reaction right after he finishes talking, “Hell, I like you so much that I always start shaking, gasping for air and stutter like a teenage girl saying ‘hi‘ to her hallway crush for the first time.”

Corny, but worth it.

Yet again a silence that got broken off by a calm soft voice.

Not the good kind, but maybe curiosity.

“Are you not ashamed of how dean might react to this intimacy of ours? Your feelings towards me might really damage the relationship between you and your brother”, Cas talks in his yet always wise voice.

“It’s damaged enough, what do you want me to do? I just love you, I can’t control it”, Sam gasps out, tears threatening to fall as shame fulfills that pit in his stomach.

But yet, for fucked up reasons, his cock was hard in his jeans, with no shame.

Which seems like Castiel noticed it and had zero shame as well to ask.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Sam gathers his words, looking up at him with teared up eyes and a shaking bottom lip,

“Cas, please, just this once.”

And he complied.

No other words exchanged as Cas took Sam by his wrist and dragged him to the bed, gently pushing him down so he lays flat down.

Sam was ashamed enough to move anyway. So he just watched Castiel unzip his jeans to reach to the hardened cock with underwear covering it.

Cas pulled Sam’s jeans off for him and let it drop onto the floor as he positioned himself on the bed, between his legs.

His hands rid up Sam’s shirt, slowly lifting it up until above his chest, which his fingers caressed over his nipples.

Sam never knew he would be this sensitive to Castiel’s touch as whimpers left his mouth with no control.

Cas was gentle with his expressions, yet his fingers were pinching and abusing his nipples.

He decides to lean down and wrap his lips around Sam‘s left nipple, his right hand on Sam‘s right nipple.

His tongue licked over the nipple, wetting it while looking up at Sam. The sight was immaculate enough to almost make Sam come in his underwear right there.

Fuck, Cas was a complete tease.

“Please, Cas, please, please, please—“,

Sam groans when Cas bites down and then let’s go to suck on them, as a way to sooth them.

Now tears of pleasure instead of shame were spilling from Sam’s eyes as he slowly put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders, gently gripping onto them for support.

The shirt was creasing under Sam‘s touch before Cas decided to let go of boy‘s body whole, only forcing the shirt off of him.

Now Sam was completely naked (apart from the boxers) in front of Cas while Cas just took of his upper body clothes, only unzipping his jeans and letting his lower part stay clothed.

Sam was desperate to see the Angel clothes free, as he slowly caressed his hands down to the cock of the man.

But before he could imagine anything further, Cas slid his hands in Sam‘s underwear, cupping his ass cheeks before he leans down to kiss the man.

Sam wraps his arms and legs around Cas as he melts into the oddly gentle kiss, mouth wet all over.

Cas gives the boy‘s ass a squeeze before one finger was teasing his hole. Sam gasped silently as it was sudden of Cas pushing in a whole finger, his walls hugging tightly on the dry finger.

It was burning, it did not feel good at all.

But Sam couldn’t get the words out as he really didn’t want to miss this chance.

His only chance of ever having this with Cas before he watches him run to his brother, Dean, and possibly even get together.

It’s not fair! He loved Cas first, he always loved Cas more, but why did the angel have to go and like Dean? Someone who denies his sexuality with all his strength just to go to some bar and drink his brains out.

Cas broke the kiss as he slowly went down Sam‘s neck leaving a peck before sitting straight, so he can pull Sam‘s underwear off and finger him normally. Quickly demanding Sam to suck a little on his fingers, taking them back immediately after.

The cold breeze hit Sam‘s cock and hole as he shivered. He sat his ass back down as he lifted it before to let Cas take his underwear down.

His legs were spread wide, his hands sneaking to his thighs, holding them open.

Cas had a small glitter in his eyes as he leaned down to nip at Sam‘s inner thigh, his index finger teasing his way into his hole.

Sam whimpered, his chest rising before dropping again when Cas‘ lips left his thigh alone and instead kissed his lower abdomen.

That one finger turned into two and then directly to three as he thrusted in and out. Sam‘s hands gripped for the sheets as he huffed fast.

Cas was still struggling with understanding some humans cant go as fast or have the stamina an angel does. But Sam is slowly trying to learn to last longer, so its a good challenge.

“Cas, please I need you in me. please—“, Sam gasped when he felt the fullness leave and get replaced with emptyness.

Cas still had the calm, straight face he always had around anyone, except dean of course. Always dean.

It broke Sam, he doesnt know why, but the angel just seeing him like any other person broke him. It really did.

Sometimes he might’ve caught himself wishing he was Dean.

Cas pulls his underwear under his balls, as he strokes his desperate hardening cock.

“Im going to enter now”, Cas warns as he slowly pushes in with a groan, stretching out Sam.

Sam’s vision went blurry, he felt the Angel already move before he could realize it any further.

Castiels hands were on his hips, holding tightly as he pounded into Sam with full force, showing no mercy, hitting the man’s prostate every time.

He begged for his release, by each thrust groans and whimpers slipping from each other as Sam’s cock slapped his own stomach.

It really didn’t take long before Sam was begging again, “Im gonna come, please Cas.”

And by that Cas wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock and started pumping to which Sam shot out, leaving out a scream.

He was shaking from the orgasm as Cas let go of his cock and pull out of the boy.

When Sam was feeling more conscious after the orgasm, he was confused as to why the Angel didn’t come yet.

He watched as Cas zipped his jeans up and threw his shirt on, neatly and not missing any buttons on his shirt.

“Why didn’t you come?” Sam took the courage to ask as he covered himself with the blanket.

Cas was done with the tie as he slowly turned to Sam, having an as confused expression as Sam.

“I did this purely for your pleasure, Sam. I was helping you out, and if we are done now, I’m going to have to leave and look for Dean”, Castiel calmly responded as he turned to the mirror, making sure his hair was in place, “Oh, and did you see my coat by any chance?”

Sam felt his world shudder into even more pieces than before. Anger and Sadness all in once taking over him.

Why couldn’t at least Castiel lie to him, tell him he loved him or just come for the shake of this!

“Just seriously go Castiel! I had it with you, just go and look for your Dean”, Sam spat as he threw the man’s coat at him. He stood up from the bed, his knees weak, but enough strength to pull his underwear on and try to fetch on some joggers and a shirt.

Cas was trying to keep up to the situation as he held Sam by his wrist, trying to get out some kind of information off the boy. Why was he throwing a tantrum?

Sam harshly waved the hand off of him as he turned to Cas with tears spilling down, a pained expression on the man’s face.

Did Cas do this to him?

“Just go, please. We are done for today”, Sam gasped as he watched the Angel take his arm back and disappear into thin air.

Sam broke into pieces as he just stood there and sobbed his eyes out to some feelingless Angel who would forget about this by the next minute.

Who didn’t even care if he had sex with Sam, he just did all those soft kisses and gentle touches to feed Sam’s pure delusions.

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wormstacheangel · 8 months

Text

Dean was new to the neighborhood. Actually, Dean was new to a lot of things that were happening at the moment.

“Oh,” Dean looked away from the captivating baby blues and into the direction of the barista who was closing the shop around them. “Guess they’re closing.”

“Guess so.”

He was finally getting his life together, becoming a civilian, and using his free will—and his magical Charlie card— to retire in style. He’s only been here for three months, fixing an old house to be home for a kid that wasn’t his but he proudly tells everyone otherwise. It’s supposed to be a fresh start for them both. No witches, ghosts, or ghouls. Just whatever normal is supposed to be.

But then he walked into this cafe and there he was.

Sitting there, reading a book as if it was a normal Tuesday night. Welcoming him with a smile while the whole place felt how a home was supposed to feel. Peaceful. Warm. Accepted. Loved.

Dean looks back at Cas, his fingers still holding tight to the other man’s hand. “Are you…do you want-?”

“Let’s go home, Dean.”

Cas has been gone for months—486 days—and he never gave up on him but all these failed attempts were taking a toll on them. So they agreed, while he searched for ways to get Cas back, he’ll use his free time to build a sense of normality for them. That meant school and work. Driving lessons and late-night study sessions. Making friends and having movie nights with pizza delivery.

It meant giving Jack a chance at a life that was never an option for them. To act like a teenager they wanted while they also learned to control their powers because that’s their normal. It’s a mix of busy mornings where Jack needs to fly to school instead of Dean dropping them off but then Dean needs to drop off the forgotten lunch Jack left behind.

And everything was fine and dandy but the hole in their life was still there.

That is until now.

The missing puzzle piece for their apple pie life was holding his hand as they walked home. Cas talked about how Eileen was the first person he saw when he made his way back to the bunker. He was so happy to see her and went for the hug but she splashed him with holy water.

Cas chuckled and Dean melted at the sound, laughing alongside him.

“You’ve barely said a word,” Cas whispered, Dean, can see his breath from the cold. “I’m sorry for surprising you. It was Sam’s idea and I went along with it because I…well I just wanted…I um, I wanted to see you.”

Dean sucked in the cold air that burned his chest, he couldn't imagine what his face was doing but he tightened his hold on the familiar hand.

“I’m just,” Dean stopped by his truck and looked for his keys while he thought of the words. But opening up about how fucking happy he was to have Cas back is too much to deal with in public. It took everything in him to stay together when he first walked in there but now they were alone. Nothing but a street light over their heads to keep them company. “On cloud nine over here.”

Dean held the key out to open the door but his hands were too shaky. He felt himself losing control of himself. The wall he built crumbled after all this time and while he expected anger to come out, it was tears. It was pure relief mixed with the grief he never faced.

He cried for the one he lost and now has back.

“Dean.” He felt strong arms wrap around him, holding him together and warm. Crying alongside him.

Dean had to deal with a lot of new things at the start of this chapter of his life and he wanted this for as long as he could have it. This routine and calm to be his always but he never let himself imagine enjoying this life with the one he wanted more than anything.

“Stay.” Dean hid his face into Cas’s shoulder, gripping him by the jacket and never wanting to let him go. “Just fucking stay with us, man.” He took a shaky breath and bumped their foreheads together, his hands reaching to hold Cas’s face in place. “Stay with me, Cas. Stay with me.”

“That’s all I ever wanted, Dean.” Cas held Dean’s coat, pulling him in close as he blinked away tears. “I love you.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat before he became putty in this man’s hands. Tipping his head back just enough to press a soft sad excuse for a kiss on his lips. It was hesitant and scary at first but then the second kiss Cas leaned into it.

When they finally arrived home, Sam was there with Jack and cold pizza.

“Castiel! I cleaned my room!” Jack bounced off the couch and started tugging at Cas’s arm. “You can see it now.”

“Guessing you came here first?” Dean asked Sam while Cas was whisked away by his kid.

“Yeah, Jack said you were probably getting your coffee fix and I didn’t want to lose this chance to surprise you.” Sam smiled up at him from the couch. “Surprise, old man.”

Dean hit him in the head with a pillow before sitting right beside him on the couch. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“I just drove him here but it was all him.” Sam’s hand patted Dean’s shoulder. “You guys gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Think we’re gonna be okay.”

“What about you? You okay?”

Dean turned to look at Cas who poked his head out of the kitchen. “Jack is asking if it’s too late for sundaes but I’m not sure about the rules now.”

Sam stood up to walk over, “Jack, you just ate half a box of pizza!”

“But I’m happy! When I’m happy, I eat.”

Dean follows the bickering, enjoying the familiar voices together again. He watched Sam give up and start making them all sundaes while Cas sat and listened to Jack give him the short version of everything he had missed.

In the middle of that, Cas smiled up at Dean. Looking at him with no sadness in his eyes because for the first time in their lives, they were going to be more than just okay. They’re all going to be happy.

#destiel #dadstiel #fic #wormstachewrites #idk if i posted this before #but fluffy fluff fluff soft old men in love

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happy74827 · 2 years

Text

Cold Little Heart

[Castiel x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Castiel returns, despite his hesitations

WC: 1,106

Category: Angst, Little bit of Fluff, Lime/Steamy

“And I know in my heart, in this cold heart. I can live, or I can die.”

『••✎••』

You felt his arm wrap around your torso, bringing you closer. The demons were surrounding you both, growling and snarling like rabid dogs. You watched in fear as he threw his angel blade at the wall, causing the sigils to crack and break.

You screamed his name in fear as they all rushed forward, but when you felt a firm press on your forehead, it relaxed your nerves immediately. As you stood there, you felt a gush of wind surround you at a lightning speed before stopping like it was never there in the first place.

You knew you were safe when it became silent. You were finally safe. You were home, or at least the hotel room you rented.

“Cassie…” Your voice stammers a bit, the sudden goosebumps that had formed now was fading away into your skin.

“Hold still.” His gruff voice spoke, just above a whisper. His hand gazed over your stomach with arms still attached around your lower back. You obliged to his words as you watched the soft blueish light illuminate from his hand to your stomach, the blood dissolving into nothing. Your wound healing in a matter of seconds.

When he finished, his vibrant eyes stared back at yours with a vigorous intensity. You had recently compared them to a husky — being that Cas had a personality similar to that of the puppy, but looking at his eyes now, they changed.

His eyes were now fire in water, passion in ice. The once mindless, dull eyes were now full of expression. Its shade was of an ideal raindrop on a blue aster. The shade of a waterway rushing to join the extraordinary sea.

He knew being here with you was wrong, but he could barely control himself at this point. He’s been fighting himself for nearly three months, avoiding your face to avoid everything else. Both Dean and Sam had noticed — he was sure of it — but neither commented. They allowed him to hurt your feelings, conflict your emotions. It was a shitty thing to do, but he had to do it. He couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t risk you being collateral damage.

His hands had moved up to your forearms, grasping them firmly. His eyes never left yours, admiration forming into his ardent eyes. It was like a gravitational force came upon you, pulling you closer into him. Your hands found its way to his chest, pulling your arms out of his grasp.

He leaned down, creating a small gap between the two of you. His lips were hovering over yours, just inches apart. His hands gripped your hips, preventing you from falling.

Of course, he never fully stayed away. With all that was happening around the world and the brothers constantly fighting greater evils, he found himself occasionally flying to see you. You couldn’t see him, but he was there. For everything.

If this had been a few years ago, he would be emotionless… thinking nothing of how you’d feel. But, you helped him see the world worth living for. You — and the brothers, but mostly you — gave him humanity. Gave him purpose other than the orders he was created to follow.

His heart broke every time you collapsed in despair. Your quiet sobs soaking into your pillows, trying to keep those emotions hidden from the brothers. He always wondered why you never cried in Dean’s arms… or Sam’s. They’d always make time for you.

Eventually, after every day of watching your endless suffering, it finally snapped him out of it. You had gone on a hunt, fighting demons despite being at a definite disadvantage. No boys… no Bobby… it was as if you were suicidal at this point, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

That’s when he stepped in, body slamming the two demons in front of you — smiting them quickly and efficiently. He would never forget the face you made as the two of you made contact… there was light. Hope.

The moment was shortly caught off as more demons poured in like a swarm of zombies. It was clear you had underestimated the swarm, and he was very thankful he was around otherwise you’d dead within a minute.

Before he could close the gap between the two of you, he pulled away. “I can’t.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Can’t?”

He sighed, looking down. “I’m an angel of the lord.”

“Yeah, Cassie, I kinda know that.” You retorted with a slight smile.

He gave you an annoyed expression, rolling his eyes. “I meant us, as in… us. It’s…it’s frowned upon.”

“Well, I’m already frowned upon by my parents, so it’s not much of a shocker—”

He rolled his eyes again, interrupting you. “Angels aren’t supposed to feel love. They’re not supposed to feel anything for that matter.”

“But you do so that doesn’t matter.” You stated, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, Cassie, we’re okay.”

“No, we’re- we’re not.” He sighed, “I thought I could fix this by leaving. I thought if I had left you alone, everything would slowly fix itself. But, I was wrong. It’s still there. Everything is still there.”

“Cas…”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been there.” His hands had cupped your face as he sighed into you. You saw the pain he held in his eyes, clearly he had been suffering just as you did. “I inflicted pain on you for selfish reasons. I was a coward, hiding away, instead of facing my fears.”

“Cas, you rebelled against everything you’ve ever believed in to help us. To help Dean save his brother. You practically broke every rule in the angel rule book. You faced Uriel… Anna… Zachariah… how could you be that scared after facing them? After everything we faced—?!”

You were cut off by Cassie’s sudden closeness. You hadn’t realized how much it escalated until your body had been pushed against the wall, his lips devouring yours, feeling hungry and ambiguous. Your lungs felt clenched, the air being sucked out of you, as your lips became numb with his touch.

Castiel was apprehensive at first, leaving feathery kisses that felt hesitant. His hands had wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into the heat of his body. Your hands slowly tangled and gripped his hair, guiding him along as you deepened the kiss.

When your back found its way against the wall, his hands pinned your head in place. A whine escaped your throat as he slithered his tongue down, dancing and intertwining with yours as your hands caressed down from his neck to his spine.

Eventually his hand found his tie, yanking it off with one tug, before discarding it onto the floor. His overcoat following in pursuit.

“I believe if I just try, you believe in you and I.”

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