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#castiel reader insert
gilverrwrites · 3 months
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Takeout Tuesday
Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)
Reader has AFAB body parts, hair long enough for pulling, & feminine pronouns’ are used.
A follow-up/sequel too If you will have me, I am yours. But can 100% be read as a stand alone.
Plot: The reader fulfills Castiel's fantasy of reenacting a porno he once watched. (AKA Clarence the pizza-man & the babysitter)
Rating: M/18+
Words: 3138 (all smut)
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Content: Porn without plot, roleplaying, Dominate Cas, cheesy porno dialogue, kitchen sex, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling, rough sex, hair pulling, spanking, clothed man/naked woman, teasing, doggy-style, denial/edging, oral (female receiving), bodily fluids, size difference (slightly), begging, choking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, swearing.
Excerpt: You force yourself not to cringe at the cheesy dialogue as you make your offer; “Maybe I could pay you with my body?” “That would be acceptable.” He responds curtly, taking a decisive step forward, into the doorframe of your shared apartment. 
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You checked the time on your phone; 19:45. It was Takeout Tuesday, and Cas should be home any minute. Normally he’d be home by 2, and it was your job to pick up dinner after your own shift finished at 6. But someone had no call, no showed, and ever the Samaritan; Cas had stayed late to help out. He’d called you on his break to let you know he would be home late, and that he would grab food on the way back.  
The sound of knocking on your front door made you jump. Careful to remain quiet, you made your way over, stopping to grab your gun on the way. Carefully you pressed the firearm to the door and leaned up to look through your peephole. Hunter instincts never really die.
Relieved and confused, you lower the gun and unlock the door, finding Cas on the other side. Your confusion only increased as you realised he was not dressed in his normal button-up and blue vest. Instead, he was dressed in a red and black polo and cap, and holding two large pizza boxes, all bearing the logo of your local pizza shop. 
“Cas, I… I don’t know what to ask first.” You wondered aloud. “Where are your keys? Why are you dressed like that?”
“I do not understand.” Cas stated, tilting his head, and narrowing his eyes. You would almost believe him, were it not for the quiver in the corner of his lip. He was holding back a smile. “My name is Clarence. I am here to deliver your pizzas.” 
“Ooooh, right!” You nod hesitantly, a smile sneaking onto your face. You recall a conversation about sexual fantasies, in which Cas had expressed wanting to reenact a porno he’d once seen in which a babysitter had paid for pizza with sexual favours. You stepped back into your hall, simultaneously returning your gun to its designated spot, and pretending to search for your purse. Purposefully arching your back and sticking your out your ass as you acted out searching through drawers and countertops. 
“I’m really sorry, Clarence.” You say, trying to make your voice sound airy and sexy; rejecting the urge to laugh at yourself. You return to the door where you begin to trail your hand up your body slowly, directing Cas’s eyes over your curves as you move upward until you loop a finger in your hair and begin twirling it. “I don’t have any money to pay you.” 
“That is unfortunate.” Cas responds. His tone is serious and deliberate, but the pink in his cheeks, the way he sucked in his lips, and the growing bulge in his pants told you he was enjoying himself.
“Maybe I could pay you another way?” You ask, batting your lashes at him as you continue to play with your hair. You internally pray no neighbours are passing through to overhear you. 
“What would that be?” He asks, unable to prevent himself from nodding, urging you to continue in your little roleplay. 
You grin at him, leaning forward and fiddling with the top of your shirt, pulling it down to try and expose some of your cleavage. You force yourself not to cringe at the cheesy dialogue as you make your offer; “Maybe I could pay you with my body?”
“That would be acceptable.” He responds curtly, taking a decisive step forward, into the doorframe of your shared apartment. 
You briefly contemplate teasing him, telling him to leave the pizza and come back later, once you’d put the imaginary children you were supposed to be babysitting to bed. But the thought passed quickly, he might actually play along, and you were horny, and hungry, but mostly horny. You did not want to wait.  
“Please, come in.” You tell him, stepping back to allow him full access. He quickly passes you. The apartment is small, the front door leads directly into a joined kitchen and living room. The only other rooms are your bedroom and the bathroom. In a few strides, Cas is already standing in the kitchen area where he deposits the pizza boxes on the counter and turns to watch you. You stare right back, taking him in. His shirt is just slightly too tight, drawing attention to the shape of his chest. His arms look thick and strong protruding out of the too-small sleeves. Heat tingles through your body as you watch him cup himself over his jeans, readjusting his growing erection. 
“Do you like what you see?” He asks you, his lips stretching into a mischievous smirk. 
You nod, locking the door and following him into the kitchen. As you approach, he reaches for you, his hands firmly wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. A hand snakes under your shirt, and you enjoy his warm, gentle touch as he slides it up your spine, guiding your upper body in close so he can plant his lips on yours. 
It starts slow and tentative. The brim of his cap rubs against your head as he delicately ghosts his mouth against yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, his lips pressing ever harder against yours. Knees growing weak, you grab onto his shoulders as you open your mouth up for him to explore, and in return his other hand cups the back of your head, locking you in place as he delves his tongue into you. 
You trail one hand down his chest until you reach his belt and begin to unbuckle him. He groans into your mouth, savouring the moments before clamping a hand around yours and pulling you away. Pouting, you break away from the kiss to look up at him. He returns your questioning gaze with a stern one. He places one last kiss on your lips before locking his fist in your hair and pulling you away from him. 
“If you behave, I might give you what you want, but right now you have a job to do.” He taunts, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but he beats you to the punch, releasing your hair as he instructs you. “Take off your clothes.” 
“Yes sir!” You respond before correcting yourself. “Yes Clarence.” 
Castiel hums appreciatively as he watches you undress. Unable to keep his hands off you, he begins assisting. Making quick work of your bra and kicking your jeans across the floor once you get them off. Your face grows hot as he holds you in place, his eyes unabashedly raking across your body, taking in every inch of you. 
“How would you like to use my body?” You question. 
“I want to kiss every inch of it.” He answers matter-of-factly before doing just that. Pushing your back against the kitchen counter he starts pressing passionate, open-mouthed kisses against your jawline, his tongue traces over your skin as he works his way down your neckline, over your collar, your chest. He holts momentarily over your breasts, giving them extra attention. He catches a nipple between his lips and rolls his tongue against it. Your body jerks at the sensation, and his muffled laugh serves to fuel the sensation. Strong fingers replace his lips, both hands roaming your body before attaching to your breasts as he lowers his head further. 
“Hmmm, you like that?" He asks as he drops to his knees and you let out a breathy pant in response. You’re rapidly losing composure as he peppers more kisses over your stomach, and hips. The rough texture of his hat brushes your thighs as he situates himself between your legs. His breath is warm against your core, and you thrust yourself closer to him. He places one last chase kiss on your folds before leaning back to look up at your flushed face. 
His hands release your chest and gesture to the small dining table in the centre of the kitchen area. “Bend over.” 
You’re barely able to open your mouth to complain before he interrupts. “Don’t whine. Do as you’re told.” 
You remain silent as you follow his order. Unable to refrain from frowning at him while you cross the small space and angle your body against the table. Cas is on you before you’re able to finish adjusting yourself. He slips his feet between yours to nudge your legs apart. Firm hands settle in on the curve of your back, directing you to arch your rear out. 
“You have been a very naughty babysitter.” He growls. 
You wiggle your ass at him as you respond. “Are you going to punish me?”
You hear the slap of his hand coming down on your ass cheek before you feel the sting.
“Yes.” His voice is solemn, and you barely have time to think of a response before his hand comes down on you again. You moan out in pain and unconsciously clench your hands around the edge of the table as you brace yourself for the next hit. Cas hesitates slightly, taking a moment to caress your reddening skin before reeling back to deliver another smack. You moan out again and again with each blow. Your head growing fuzzy, unable to think of anything but the heat pooling between your legs, and the stinging of your butt.
When Cas pokes two fingers between your folds you flinch, not expecting the sensation. He runs his fingers up and down, collecting the wetness before retreating. Lazily you stretch your neck back to watch as he brings them close to his face for inspection. You expect him to taste it, he’s never been shy about his affinity for your wetness or cum before, so you’re surprised when he looks over at you with a devious glint. 
“I think you’re enjoying this too much.” He says as he leans over your slumped frame and presses his fingers to your lips. Following his lead, you open up, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth, to rub your wetness against your tongue. It's sharp and bitter, but you close your mouth around him and suck until his fingers leave your mouth without wet pop. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
That felt like a trick question. Any semblance of an answer is immediately lost when you feel him grind his crotch against your backside. When you don’t respond, he continues. “Do you like this? Being bent over, and spanked like a filthy whore?”
The words sound so outlandish, coming out of Cas’s mouth. Castiel, (former) angel of the lord, calling you a whore. Outlandish, but so fucking hot. 
Unsure if he’s warning, or chastising you, he pulls his body back and lands another strike on your cheek. 
“Fuck. Yes!” You cry, jolting back, pushing your ass against his crotch again. 
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I like it!” You stare forward, unsure if you could look at him without breaking again. “I like being spanked like a filthy whore.” 
Castiel rewards you by placing a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. His voice is hoarse as he leans up and whispers. “Then we shall have to find another way to discipline you.” 
You might regret asking, but that doesn’t stop you. “What did you have in mind?”  
Strong arms lift you; Cas turns you to face him and paces you back onto the table in a seated position before dropping to his knees and maneuvering your legs over his shoulders. 
“Keep your hands behind your back.” He instructs, and the moment your arms are locked behind you he delves in, dislodging his cap along the way. He presses his tongue flat against your clit and licks at it mercilessly. A finger inches up your thigh, and circles your entrance before plunging in. 
You want nothing more than to grip his hair, to use it for purchase as you rub your cunt against him, but you can’t. The added challenge of remaining positioned only adds to your growing frustration. The synchronised feel of his finger fucking into you, and his tongue lapping at your sweet-spot has you panting. 
“Holy fuck. Don’t stop, please.” You muster, trying and failing to buck in rhythm with him. “That feels so good Cas, Cas, Ca- Clarence.”
He murmurs something incomprehensible between your lips and the vibration has you coming undone. Your muscles seize, your legs shoot out, and your head rolls back as you approach your climax. No sooner has it started when Cas pulls back, releasing you completely. 
Your mouth falls open, ready to ask him why he stopped, ready to beg him to come back, to finish you off but all that escapes your lips is a frustrated groan. 
“Don’t worry.” Cas assures you, re-adjusting his hat as he stands up. His arousal is evident from his blown-out pupils and the playful smile on his lips. He cups your face between his hands and pulls you in to rest a kiss on your hairline. You don’t miss the chuckle he tries to suppress. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” 
“Are you going to fuck me, Mr Pizza-man?” Your voice is barely a whisper. “Please?”
“You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” It’s not really a question. “You’d like me to bend you over again and stretch you out like a needy slut. You’d liked like me to fuck you right here, wouldn’t you?”
You shiver at his words and reach up for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer.
“Yes.” You speak between languid kisses to his jaw, and neck. “Please, please Clarence. I would do anything to feel your cock inside me.” 
“I thought you might. You naughty girl.” He states, grasping your wrists and pulling you away from him. “Turn around.”
It’s an order, but you needn’t act. Using your arms and hips for purchase Cas flips you back over. Fresh waves of excitement shoot through your body as you hear his belt and zipper opening. Your breath hitches when you feel the head of his cock at your entrance. He doesn’t make you wait for it, pushing through your lips and bottoming out in seconds. A low moan escapes him as he does so. 
“You don’t cum until I say so.” He commands as you both adjust. The feel of his dick stretching your walls out makes you feel lightheaded. You whimper your response and begin rocking your hips, urging him to start fucking you. Your motion is halted when you feel his hand in your hair. With little warning, your head is whipped back. “Your body is mine. I will decide when and how to use it. You’ll be fortunate if I let you cum at all. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” You answer hastily, you suspect you look like a deer in the headlights. 
“Since you seem to want this so badly, beg for it.” You’re not sure which is more telling to your enjoyment of his dominance. The way your pussy twitches around him, or the involuntary cry you let out. 
“Please… Please Mr Pizza-man, use my pussy.” You begin, through shaky breaths. The excruciatingly slow pump of his body pushing against yours encourages you to keep going. “Use me however you please, I want you, I want to make you cum.” 
“Since you asked so nicely.” Cas pulls back and slams back into you harshly, hand still firmly latched in your hair, keeping you in place as he begins pounding into you, riding you from behind. 
Still on edge from his previous assault, it isn’t long before you felt an orgasm approaching again.
Knowing you won’t be able to fend it off for long you speak up. The jolt of Castiel’s thrusts causes your words to be punctuated by involuntary moans. “Cas, I’m. so. close. Please, I’m. gonna- “ 
“Not yet.” He barks. A moment later he tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you further back until you're close enough for him to lock a hand around your neck. 
Fingers squeeze either side of your throat and you fear you’ll lose your resolve any second. 
For stability, and to try to distract yourself from the growing tension in your cunt, you hold onto his arm. As if determined to make you suffer, Cas slows his speed, focusing on deliberate, torturous thrusts that fill you up and hit all the right places. 
Gurgled cries fall from your lips, attempts to beg for your release, but nothing is intelligible. Unable to move, to breathe, or to think straight, all you can think of is the orgasm you’re barely holding at bay. The pressure of your fingers around the arm holding you by your neck is sure to leave bruises. And then it happens. 
“Now.” He releases his grip on your hair and slides his hand to your folds, erratically pawing until he finds your clit. 
You didn’t really need the extra assistance. You fall apart in an instant, your walls convulsing around his cock, as your body rides the high. Your already tingling, pulsing cunt tightens when you feel the warmth of Castiel’s cum spilling inside you. Low, lethargic hums leave his chest as his thrusts grow sluggish and strained. 
Spent and panting, Cas lets his hands relax, electing to rest them on your waist as he pulls you in, back to his chest for an embrace. His softening cock dislodges as you move together, and you feel his cum trickle out. You elect to ignore it for now, enjoying the hug, and the delicate kisses he places to the back of your head. 
“Do you understand why the pizza-man spanked the babysitter now?” You asked.
The rumble in Cas’s chest as he laughs tickles your skin. “Yes. That was exceedingly enjoyable. How was it for you?”
“That was, amazing.” You concede, turning in his arms until you’re able to rest your face against his chest. He’s smiling down at you, blue eyes filled with admiration. “I should order pizza from Clarence more often.” 
“If that is what you want.” Now that he has a clear view of it, you can see him examining your neck. You’ve no doubt it’s still red, but you doubt it’ll be bruised, at least, not half as much as your ass. “We should get you cleaned up.” 
“Good idea.” You reach up onto your toes and kiss him on the lips. On impulse, you also decide to steal the godforsaken cap from his head and place it on your own before backing towards the bathroom. “Put those pizzas in the oven to reheat, then meet me in the bedroom?”
Cas nods, seemingly unbothered by your thievery as he watches you go. You’ll have to ask him where he got the costume from later. You ask him one last question as you reach the bathroom door. “So, was there ever a sequel to this porno?” 
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corinthianism · 6 months
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corinthianism's fic recs
here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut
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last updated: march 26, 2024
MARVEL
loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)
thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor
peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)
steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)
marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)
wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)
SHERLOCK (BBC)
sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero
SUPERNATURAL
sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut
dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics
castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)
THE SANDMAN
the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics
dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare
CRIMINAL MINDS
aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)
THE BOYS
soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies
homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch
GAME OF THRONES
jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)
STAR WARS
obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)
din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika
DRACULA (BBC)
count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)
DOCTOR SLEEP
dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg
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octoberclidan · 5 months
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Her Boys
Request: hi:) can you do sam x reader x dean where reader lives with them and after hunts she usually falls asleep in the back of impala (sometimes with her head on castiel's lap) so sam and dean takes turns on carrying her to motel bed and giving forehead goodnight kiss (sam's turn in this fic ) and some nights after having nightmares she sneaks out to one of their bed (dean's in this fic)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader and Sam Winchester x Reader, a bit of Castiel x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
"Dean", Castiel's voice sounded from the back of the Impala. "I think you should turn your music down".
"What? Why?" Dean sounded almost offended by Cas' request. It was late, and they were driving to a motel after a successful hunt. It was dark out and raining, so Dean had turned his music up even louder than usually so it could be heard over the rain hitting the windshield and roof of his car. Sam turned around to look at Cas, and Cas looked down to his lap. Sam nodded and reached forward to turn the music down low, and swatted Dean's hand away when Dean tried to turn it back up.
"She's asleep", Sam whispered to him, and Dean glanced up into the rearview mirror, only finding Cas looking back at him. [Y/N] had a habit of falling asleep in the car after hunts. The boys could run on limited sleep, but she couldn't keep her energy up like them. She was sore from the hunt, having been pushed and thrown around a lot, and after running all over the place for hours, she was exhausted. She'd lasted about fifteen minutes in the car sitting up before she'd given in and leaned over to lie in Cas' lap. He had his hand resting on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it with his thumb, and she had one of her arms wrapped around herself, the other holding on to Cas' thigh.
The Impala was warm, and safe, and familiar. It smelled like a mixture of all three of her favourite people; the Winchesters and Cas. She hadn't even been with them all that long, just under a year, but they were her family, and they were her home. They'd all taken a likening to her from the moment they'd met, and they all had a soft spot for her. Dean thrived on taking care of people, and while Sam and Cas made that difficult for him sometimes, [Y/N] made it easy. She didn't complain when he was slightly overprotective of her on hunts, and she never refused his help when he offered it. She satisfied the nurturing need he had, though he'd never admit it. Sam had been looked out for and taken care of his whole life by Dean, and whenever he tried to return the favour, Dean wouldn't let him. [Y/N] was never embarrassed by Sam looking out for her, she always valued his advice, and the fact that she so openly looked up to him made him feel important. She'd definitely had a warm and positive impact on the team dynamics, and they'd do whatever they could to make her want to stay with them.
The rumble of the car's engine was muffled by having her ear pressed against Cas' lap, but she began to stir when the rain got heavier. Cas quickly pulled his hand off her shoulder and lay it gently on her other ear to block out the noise, and her breathing deepened again. All three of them remained silent for the rest of the drive, and Cas only removed his hand from her ear when the rain stopped.
***
It was awhile later when Dean pulled into a motel that had a vacancy sign lit up, and while he got out to go get a room, Cas and Sam stayed in the car with [Y/N]. He was back a few minutes later with a key card, knocking lightly on the passenger window to let Sam know before opening up the trunk and grabbing their bags. Sam got out of the car and opened up the back door, where Cas carefully helped maneuver [Y/N] into Sam's arms. Sam had one arm under her knees and his other around her back, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder as he straightened up and made sure he had a good grip on her. He looked down at her, she looked so peaceful and innocent, it was hard to think of the girl in his arms as the same person who he'd seen earlier shooting the monster they'd been hunting.
Cas held the door open for the boys as they walked into the motel room, before letting them know that he had a few things to check on in Heaven and would be back in the morning. Dean dropped the bags down onto one of the beds while Sam walked [Y/N] over to bed farthest from the door; the boys liked making sure that she was always in the safest place possible. He lay her down on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face as Dean dug through his bag to find one of his hoodies, one that he knew [Y/N] liked as it was thick and warm, and quite big on her. He walked over to Sam and nodded at him, letting him know he was ready to do something that the two of them had gotten used to doing on nights after hunts. Sam slowly lifted [Y/N] into a sitting position, holding her head against his chest to keep her comfortable. Dean unzipped her jacket and pulled it off her, leaving her t-shirt on. The two of them slid the hoodie onto her, pulling her arms through the sleeves and pulling it down over her. Sam then let her lie back down and smiled in thanks to Dean, letting him know that he could go get himself ready for bed.
While Dean was in the bathroom, Sam untied [Y/N]'s shoes and pulled them off. He then pulled the covers of the bed over her and tucked her in, making sure that none of the cool motel room air would disturb her. He watched as she snuggled into her pillow, smiling in her sleep. Sam wondered what she was dreaming about, and was looking forward to hearing about it in the morning over breakfast. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, a habit he'd picked up that he found soothed him. Being able to kiss her on the forehead and feel her warmth under his lips reminded him that she was alive, and she was safe, and protected.
***
Several hours passed when [Y/N] began to stir. Her good dream had slowly morphed into a nightmare, and she'd been experiencing a version of the hunt that had not gone as well as it had in reality. She breathed in sharply as her eyes shot open and she sat up, in darkness, momentarily not knowing where she was, until she smelled Dean's scent just under her chin. She grabbed the collar of the material and pulled it up to her nose, the smell instantly calming her. She smiled as she realised it was her favourite hoodie of his, and that the boys must have put her to bed. She turned her head to the side and let her eyes adjust, she could just about make out their silhouettes in the two beds beside hers. She pushed her covers back and let her legs hang over the side of the bed, the coolness of the air making her shiver slightly. She made sure to be quiet as she stood up, not wanting to interrupt their sleep, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after a nightmare on her own. She needed one of her boys.
Dean's bed was closest to hers, and he'd also left space beside him. She wasn't sure if that was intentional or not, but she took it as an invitation. She looked over to Sam to make sure he was okay, and smiled when he mumbled something in his sleep and then chuckled to himself. She owed a lot to the Winchesters, and to Cas too. They'd never told her that they loved her, and she'd never told them that she loved them either, but she didn't need verbal confirmation. She knew that she was loved, she could feel it in their actions every day. She carefully pulled back the covers on Dean's bed and slid in beside him, turning to face away from him and feel the heat of his body on her back. Only a minute later, she felt Dean's strong arm wrap around her waist and she was pulled against his chest. She felt his nose on the back of her neck as he breathed her in, and she felt his breath tickle her shoulder as he breathed out. There was no chance of her nightmare coming back that night as she drifted off in Dean's arms, knowing that even though she hunted monsters and demons, as long as she had her boys, she would be safe and sound.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx
Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx
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hollybell51 · 1 year
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Last night on Earth
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^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif
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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader
Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"
Word count: 6.4K
Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.
Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.
Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.
It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx
“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth. 
“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least. 
You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion. 
“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly. 
“Would you say that, Cas?” 
The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat. 
You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?” 
Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.” 
“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?” 
He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward. 
“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.” 
“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?” 
He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.” 
You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–” 
“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.” 
This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid. 
But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.  
Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone. 
“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 
“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–” 
You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?” 
He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed. 
“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.” 
“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing. 
You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.” 
“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.” 
It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed. 
“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–” 
“When. Tomorrow, when I die.” 
“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening. 
“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent. 
“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.” 
He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.” 
“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?” 
“Maybe.” 
“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.” 
He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.
“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet. 
That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.” 
You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.” 
“Because I scared away a prostitute?” 
“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.” 
He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”
“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?” 
“Feelings?” 
Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.
A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie… 
“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Someone who wants you.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Not just your money.” 
You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.” 
The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.” 
“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks. 
“Do you want me?” Cas asked. 
“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own. 
He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right. 
You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect. 
He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious. 
You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties. 
“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again. 
His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you. 
“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.” 
He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought. 
“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip. 
You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.” 
His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body. 
Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human. 
“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.” 
“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face. 
You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added. 
A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.” 
You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?” 
He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”
You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.” 
He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest. 
“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push. 
He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones. 
“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?” 
“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”
You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you. 
Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired. 
You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.” 
“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.” 
“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.” 
“Bone graffiti?” 
You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.” 
“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts. 
You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips. 
“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment. 
He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly. 
“Keep going?” 
Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing. 
“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection. 
“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again. 
You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm. 
Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.” 
“Yeah?” 
He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.” 
“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.” 
He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.” 
“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–
“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.” 
“And did it?” 
“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh. 
You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly. 
“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–” 
“Yes, you did cum?” 
“Yes, yes I did.” 
“Was it good?” 
Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.” 
Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel. 
You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways. 
“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis. 
“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw. 
“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light. 
He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?” 
“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.” 
“Does it feel good?” 
You smiled. “Yeah.” 
“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?” 
“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.” 
“I want you to feel good too.” 
You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs. 
“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking. 
He nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe. 
Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request. 
“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one. 
A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining. 
Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then. 
“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?” 
“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor. 
Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing. 
“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door. 
“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again. 
But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving. 
You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?” 
He frowned. “What do you mean?” 
Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own. 
“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.” 
“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement. 
“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?” 
“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.” 
You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it. 
“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick. 
“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.” 
“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”
“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more. 
“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips. 
You smiled. “Ready?” 
“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you. 
“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.” 
You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long. 
“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.” 
His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts. 
“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so. 
“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.” 
“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.
“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.” 
He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation. 
His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost. 
“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–” 
“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle. 
“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest. 
“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself. 
“Sorry, sorry I–” 
You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–” 
“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display. 
You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval. 
“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.” 
A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?” 
“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?” 
He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.” 
You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance. 
“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face. 
“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 
“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”
Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him. 
“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”
He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now. 
“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”
You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?” 
He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—” 
Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin. 
“Alright?” you breathed. 
Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that? 
You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand. 
“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–” 
You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer. 
The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind. 
After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling. 
“Alright?” you asked. 
His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently. 
“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?” 
“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body. 
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.” 
“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.” 
He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.” 
“No?” 
He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.” 
You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about  the rest? What do you think?” 
He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.” 
You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?” 
“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.” 
“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.” 
He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction. 
“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.” 
“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.” 
You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?” 
You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.” 
He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder. 
“G’night,” you whispered. 
“Good night, (Y/N).” 
It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet. 
“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.” 
1K notes · View notes
lunaroserites · 6 months
Text
Stunning
Pairing: Established Castiel x Winchester!Reader (Fem)
Summery: Based after Castiel became human, and loosely based off a post I seen about how after he became human he say Dean's face for the first time.
Words: 1365
Warning: Fluff, Kissing, a little sad with a happy ending, Canon Divergent (Canon is a suggestion). Not edited we die like Winchesters.
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She sat comfortably on one of the plush couches in the library. Her coffee mug clutched between her hands, she was trying to absorb the heat from the ceramic mug. The bunker was cold in the mornings, the fans above that pulled fresh air in were noticeable in the quiet of the morning. 
Her morning tea brought her the heat she needed to get ready for the day. Her brothers had left her in a hurry last night after getting a frantic call from Castiel telling them the angels fell and he lost his grace. She wanted to go but her brothers said it would be best if she stayed home and manned the phone, hunters would be calling for assistance and she was best to answer their calls. 
Her job as a hunter was picking up for Bobby, she would spend days on end researching with him, learning from him, she took over for him when he passed. Her heart clenched thinking back to the elder hunter she viewed as a father.
Her brothers had called an hour ago to tell her they would be home soon and they had her angel in tow. Well he wasn’t an angel anymore she figured. Losing his grace meant he was pretty much human now. 
The bunker door banged open, making her jump as the peaceful quiet was shattered by the sound of heavy boots and grunts as three of the most important men in her life made their way to where she was curled up. One of Dean's flannels covered most of her upper body, the sleeves rolled up. She never slept well alone so she would wear one of Dean’s flannels and she would use Sam's blanket and pillow that Castiel would use during the night as she slept next to him. She would surround herself in their safety. 
She looked at her brothers, Dean was the first down the stairs he gave her a grim look, she searched his face for something to indicate what she should be prepared for. He gave her very little. Sammy was right behind him and his face was less grim but not much more optimistic looking. The last was Castiel, and he looked awful. He looked exhausted, he looked cold. He looked completely lost. He hadn’t looked at her yet, his face downcast as he made his way down the stairs, he gripped the rail harder than she had ever seen him grip it before. 
She stood before Castiel made it to the bottom of the stairs, she walked forward and stood just behind Dean, her hands wrapped around his arm, he brought his free hand up and rubbed soothing circles on her hand. Sammy stood beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, he leaned down, “he’s a little overwhelmed,” he whispered to her. 
Castiel was at the bottom landing still looking down but focused on his hands in front of him. She nodded at her brother and took slow steps forward before she stopped a couple paces from the former Angel. He still hadn’t looked up from his hands. She reached out and put her hand on his, she wanted to sooth his fidgeting fingers, ease his worries. Make him feel better. 
“Cas,” she said quietly, his heart fluttered at how softly she spoke to him. Her voice brought him some peace, it didn’t sound much different from while he was an angel. The brothers had sounded different. Much more gruff, not as smooth. Her voice was still like little bells that chimed in perfect harmony. Her voice was music to his ears. 
She moved closer to him, her other hand touching his cheek gently, she was trying to coax his face upwards so she could look at him fully. He leaned his cheek into her touch, her touch was feather light, gentle and soothing. Her skin felt like a warm blanket to him, her fingers trembling against his cheek. He could feel her worry roll off her in waves. She always wore how she was feeling on her sleeve, he always knew how she was feeling. She was always one of the easiest to understand even while he was Angel. 
“Castiel, look at me” she cooed gently at him, he lifted his face and had his eyes closed. He was afraid of her looking into his eyes and not seeing the Angel he was and only seeing the shell that was left. She ran her thumb across his cheek, a few of his tears slipped past his closed eyes. That was a sensation he was not going to get used to anytime soon. “Please love.” 
He opened his eyes and looked at her face. He truly looked at her face, for the first time he saw her face. She was beautiful. Her skin was speckled with years of living, laugh lines, crows feet. She looked like she truly lived. While an angel he had never seen her face for what it truly was. But now he sees every pore, every wrinkle, every freckle. Her eyes were a beautiful green like Dean’s, her lips a soft pink and her hair was a lovely mahogany color. 
He took his clenched hands from her and placed them on her face, inspecting her, feeling her skin for the first time. He had touched her before but never had it felt this real. It was so overwhelming, his heart was beating loudly in his ears as he stared deeply into her eyes. Her lips parted as she took a sharp breath when he touched her. 
Then she smiled at him, “Castiel.” 
“You are stunning,” Castiel said breathlessly. He brought her face towards his and kissed her gently. The feeling of her lips on his was almost too much for his mortal heart to handle. He hadn’t imagined what it would be like, to feel life like a human, he hadn’t imagined she would feel this perfect. 
Someone cleared their throat behind the two, Castiel reluctantly pulled back from her and she gave him a sweet smile. 
“So this my Castiel now?” She said softly, her eyes searching his face. 
“This is your Castiel now,” his voice sounded the same, he looked the same, a little rugged and his lips felt the same. The only difference was the lack of soft thumb she would feel buzzing under his skin. The thumbing would get stronger under her touch. That was the only thing that was gone. 
“Well I’m okay with that,” she pulled him to her side and wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was just happy he was alive and he was here with her.
Dean looked between his baby sister and Castiel, when they first started dating he was against it. Hell he still didn’t like it. Castiel promised him he would protect her with his life. Something he truly meant as he had risked his life more than once to keep her safe. Now that Cas was human he didn’t know how protecting her would go, but he knew Castiel would do whatever it took to keep her safe. 
Sam had left the library and went to find some food for the four of them. He had noticed his blanket on the couch, knowing she stayed there the whole night, waiting for them to come home. Dean’s flannel hung loosely off her frame, and he figured the pillow that was next to his blanket was Castiel’s pillow. 
He hated leaving her here alone, she was never good with it, someone always stayed with her or she was with them. Ever since her Castiel got together he always made sure she wasn’t alone for long periods of time and he would constantly update her on his whereabouts. Something Sam appreciated greatly from the former Angel. He looked at the fridge, being held up with a piece of electrical tape, there was a picture of the four of them. They were all smiling, she insisted it be taped to the fridge, a reminder that no matter what they had each other and there was room for happiness in this fucked up world. 
421 notes · View notes
fanfictionalraven · 1 month
Text
Promises
Title: Promises
Summary: You and Dean had promised each other you'd always be there, no matter what. But when Sam falls into the pit, Dean runs to someone else.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, others mentioned
Word Count: 3,754
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of character death
Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published October, 2017. Italics are flashbacks.
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You run your hand over your face as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. This motel’s wi-fi sucked. You’d been waiting on this same page to load for five minutes now. Rising from the chair, you pull your jacket on. If it was going to be this slow, you were gonna go get a drink.
You make your way to the door, straightening out the collar of your jacket. You grab your keys and pull the door open, jumping back at what’s waiting on the other side. Your hand instinctively flinches for the gun tucked into the back of your jeans before you stop yourself.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, more venom in your words than you had really intended.
“Hello to you too,” Dean Winchester snaps, the hand he had raised to knock falling to his side. It had been well over a year since you had seen or even spoken to Dean.
The two of you had practically grown up together. Your fathers had left you both at Bobby’s often and you considered the Winchesters family. You, Dean, and Sam had been through so much together but there was no denying you had been closer to the older brother. You were there for him through everything. Sam going to college. John dying. Sam dying. You’d watched him get dragged to Hell and were there as soon as he came back. You had been fully prepared to pull him through Sam falling into the pit. But Dean didn’t pick you. He’d picked her.
Lucifer had just blown Castiel into chunks before throwing Dean into the windshield of the Impala. Bobby shoots at him and with the flick of his wrist, Lucifer snaps his neck.
“Bobby!!” You scream out, moving towards his body quickly. You sob as your hands ghost over his neck, knowing there’s nothing you can do. Lucifer begins to punch Dean repeatedly. You rise to your feet and take a step to run and help him. Lucifer holds up a hand, freezing you to the place.
“No,” Dean chokes out, spitting up blood. Lucifer lets out a laugh as you attempt to move.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill her yet. It’ll be more fun to make her watch me kill the man she loves with my bare hands,” he says.
You call out and sob, completely useless as Lucifer uses Sam’s hands to beat his brother within an inch of his life. Dean can barely see as he tells Sam it’ll be okay. Something snaps inside Sam. He regains control, grabs Michael, and the two tumble into the pit.
Once the pit closes up again, you’re released from the place you’d been standing. You rush to Dean’s side, quickly assessing his injuries. Cas appears next to you and reaches down, healing Dean instantly. He brings Bobby back as you help Dean to his feet.
The drive back to Bobby’s is quiet. Dean, yourself, and Bobby all ride together in the front seat of the Impala. Dean keeps both hands tight on the steering wheel as he drives. Once he stops the car in front of the house, Bobby gets out leaving the two of you alone. You peel one of Dean’s hands off the wheel and hold it in yours.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your voice soft and comforting. He shakes his head, staring at the dashboard in front of him. “We’ll get through this.”
“I’m getting out,” he says. Your eyes widen in surprise before you nod.
“Okay. Well – ummm,” you start. Out had never really been in your plans but if that’s what Dean wanted, what Dean needed, then so be it. He pulls his hand away from yours, returning it to the wheel.
“I’m gonna go back to Lisa and Ben,” he says, eyes still forward. You stare at him in disbelief before your cheeks heat up quickly in embarrassment. Lucifer had put your feelings for Dean out there, plain as day. You loved him. But clearly Dean didn’t feel the same way. This was his way of breaking the news to you.
“Oh. Well – that’s, that’s good,” you say, sliding across the seat to the passenger side door. “If you need me, you know how to reach me,” He nods once, his eyes never leaving the dashboard. You couldn’t help the rage that was starting to build. Years of friendship and support and he just seemed to be tossing you aside. “Have a good life,” you tell him as you quickly exit the car. You barely get the door closed again before Dean’s spinning tires, leaving you in his dust.
“How did you find me?” You ask him now, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes, squeezing into the room past you.
“Bobby always knows where you are,” he says. You frown and curse Bobby internally. Damn traitor.
“I thought you were out,” you say, closing the door as you turn to face him. He looks at your computer screen and raises an eyebrow.
“Was,” he says. “You’re hunting a rugaru by yourself?” He arches an eyebrow at you and you shrug, walking over quickly.
“So what if I am?” You ask, reaching past him to close the laptop.
“Never knew you to be stupid,” he says. Your eyes narrow, anger bubbling in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in over a year. Who did he think he was just barging in here, telling you how to run your own hunts?
“Why are you here, Dean?” You ask. He looks at you and something shifts in his face. It’s a look you know well. He’s worried.
“Sam’s back,” he says. You nod, biting your lip.
“I know,” you tell him. He frowns slightly and you sigh. “I’ve known this whole time. We even worked together – for a little while.”
“So everyone knew my brother wasn’t in Hell except for me,” he says, anger slipping into his words. You roll your eyes.
“You had what you wanted,” you tell him. He stares at you now, disbelieving.
“What I wanted?” He asks. You shrug your shoulders.
“Lisa and Ben, your perfect little normal family,” you sneer, walking past him. He grabs your arm and you look at him quickly.
“The hell is your problem, Y/N?” He asks. You jerk your arm away from him.
“Any time something happened, you ran to me and we faced it head on together. We promised we’d always be there for each other, whatever came. And I was there. Long before…” You stop, biting your lip. You didn’t want to do this. Every fiber of your being was fighting to keep the floodgates closed. Dean Winchester was sure as hell not about to see you crying over him.
“I needed a break, away from the life. I had to try for Sam, or so I thought,” he says. You squeeze your eyes closed, turning away from him. Taking a slow, steadying breath, you regain your composure.
“When Sam came back, I told him we had to tell you. I swear I did, Dean. But he said he’d seen you with Lisa and Ben and that you were happy. The happiest he’d ever seen you,” you tell him. Turning back to face him, you find he appears crestfallen. He looks like he’s struggling to say something before he shakes his head.
“You said you hunted with Sam,” he says. You frown and nod.
“For a little while – couple months maybe,” you tell him. The look on his face changes again, as though he already knows the answer to his next question.
“What happened?” He asks. You bite your lip and look away. “Y/N, I need to know.”
“He almost got me killed. We were on a hunt, a djinn. I can’t prove it but I – I think he let me get captured,” you confess. He nods slightly, watching you.
“I’m pretty sure he let me get turned into a vamp,” he tells you. Your eyes widen slightly before they jump to your bag of weapons open on the bed. Dean catches the movement and shakes his head. “Samuel cured me. Sounds crazy, I know, but you can check me yourself.” You shake your head slightly. “You met Samuel?”
“Your grandfather? Yea, he was a real charmer,” you say, rolling your eyes. Dean lets out a laugh and nods.
“Yea, he’s an ass,” he says. You smile a little then look down.
“Why’d you come?” You ask. He sighs and you look up at him again.
“Wanted a second opinion on Sam. And – ugh – I missed you,” he says. You can hear an added weight to his words. I missed you. His eyes are locked on yours, trying to pass those words’ deeper meaning telepathically. You shake your head, fighting tears once again.
“You picked her, Dean,” is all you can manage to say. He frowns and takes a tentative step towards you.
“I was trying to keep you safe. The people I care about most, they don’t do too good with me around. I couldn’t lose you like I lost Sam. So, I ran,” he admits.
He takes another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His hands capture yours and you look up at him. His eyes are soft as they search yours. He leans down slowly and your eyes flutter closed. You feel his nose bump yours gently and his breath, a mix of mint and whiskey, washes over you. At the last possible second, just before his lips touch yours, you find the strength to turn your head away.
“I don’t want to be your backup plan,” you tell him, your voice trembling. He frowns and raises your chin with one finger.
“That’s not what this is,” he says. You shake your head and pull your hands from his, taking a step away.
“That’s how it feels. Now, I’ll help you with Sam cause I’m worried about him too. But we’re just friends like we always were,” you say, picking up your computer.
“We were never just friends,” Dean says, staring at you. You look back at him, fresh tears threatening to spill over. You swallow hard and nod.
“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone,” you say, tossing your bag over your shoulder.
You meant it. You swore to yourself you’d meant it. The moment Sam was back to his normal self, you were going to be out the door. You weren’t going to slip back into your old routines with Dean. You would sleep on the floor before you’d share the motel bed with him like you used to. The stupid, flirty banter that used to make you think you meant more to him? That wasn’t going to happen either. That was your plan. It was a great plan. You just couldn’t stick to it.
You managed to keep your distance until you got hurt on a hunt. Dean was at your side in an instant, worried as usual. His hands made quick work of removing his flannel shirt. He tied it just above the gash in your leg then lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style back to the car as Sam finished clearing the nest.
He made Sam drive back to the motel, keeping constant pressure on your wound in the backseat. Sam parks the Impala outside the brothers’ room of the motel. You had your own room, your new normal, but Dean carries you into theirs and carefully deposits you on one of the beds. He reaches for the button on your jeans and you grab at his hands quickly.
“The hell do you think you’re doing?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and swats your hands away.
“Sammy, get me the –,” he stops short. Sam is already at his side, needle, thread, and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hands. Your eyes widen and you grab Dean’s hands again. He looks at you, exasperation fading into concern quickly. He knows how much you despise stitches. You were an ass-kicking hunter who had no problem facing a demon or a nest of vampires. But bring out a needle and you were running for the hills. “This isn’t a job for a bandage, Sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Dean reassures you. You groan and lay back on the bed, putting your hands over your face.
Dean unties the shirt he’d been using as a tourniquet and you feel the blood start to rush again. He quickly, but as carefully as he can, pulls your blood-soaked jeans off, handing them to Sam who throws them away. The next sensation causes you to sit upright and scream out. Dean had poured the whiskey onto your wound. He hands the bottle to you quickly and you turn it up before handing it to Sam. You look at Dean’s hands as he threads the needle effortlessly and your stomach churns. You follow his hands with your eyes as they move to your leg. One of his hands comes up, cupping your chin, and forces you to meet his eyes.
“You know the drill. Eyes on me,” he says, his voice calm and comforting. You nod and he presses his lips to your forehead quickly. His eyes drop to your leg momentarily before returning to yours. You feel the tug at your skin of your leg and grimace. “You remember the first time I did this?” He asks. You blink then nod, the memory returning. “Tell me about it.”
“We were just kids,” you start. Your voice is still trembling so you take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “We were playing in Bobby’s scrapyard, exactly what he’d told us not to do. I fell and cut my arm. We were worried about how mad he was going to be so you said your dad had taught you how to do stitches. You started and I passed out.”
“I thought I’d killed you. I carried you back to Bobby and he finished with your stitches before you woke up,” he continues. His eyes shoot down to your leg between every stitch before returning to your face. “That was when I learned about your needle thing.”
“It’s a phobia, Dean, not a needle thing,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. He chuckles.
“And then I learned to do this,” he says, smiling at you proudly. “Perfect stitches, barely even looking.” He winks at you now and you shake your head.
“Promised you’d always take care of care me that day too,” you say. His smile falls slightly as his eyes drop for a second.
“I remember when Sam brought up the idea of anti-possession tattoos. I’d never seen you so pale,” he says, changing the subject. You groan at that memory and shake your head. “I got you through that too though.”
“You held my hand and kept me distracted,” you say, smiling a little. He nods, his eyes staying on your leg just a second longer before he looks up at you and smiles wider.
“Just like now. All done,” he says. You look down at your leg, surprised. There was a perfect line of needlework across your thigh. You smile and shake your head, looking back at Dean.
“Thank you,” you tell him. He shrugs then rises to his feet.
“You can use our shower to get cleaned up,” he says. You nod and he helps you up from the bed. “You’re staying in our room tonight. I’ll sleep in the chair, I don’t care. But – I’d really like to be able to keep an eye on you. You lost a lot of blood.” He has an arm around your waist, helping you towards the bathroom.
You didn’t make Dean sleep in the chair that night. And you didn’t get a separate room any longer. After that, everything felt normal again. You and Dean would tease each other mercilessly just like you always had. You’d find yourself wrapped in his arms in the early morning hours just like you always had.
A few things had changed though. He didn’t hit on women in the bars like he used to. Instead, he’d stay close by your side, scaring off any man who dared get too close. Normally, you would have been pissed but suddenly you didn’t mind so much.
In the days that follow, Dean makes some backwards deal with Death in order to get Sam’s soul back. He does it behind your back, knowing you’d try to talk him out of it. The slap he receives when he returns tells him he was right not to tell you. The hug and kiss on the cheek tell him you forgive him immediately.
“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone.”
Those were your words. Your solemn vow to yourself. And that time was now. Sam’s soul had been restored and he seemed to be adjusting well. You’re in the spare room at Bobby’s, packing your bag. A knock at the door draws your attention.
“Come in,” you call out. The door opens and the younger Winchester walks in, smiling.
“Hey, ummm – I wanted to apologize. Cas told me what I did,” he says. You smile at him and shake your head.
“We’re good, Sam. The djinn was nothing,” you tell him. He frowns more.
“That’s not what I meant although I am definitely sorry for that too,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. “I made you believe that Dean didn’t want you.”
“Sam, that’s between me and Dean,” you say, looking back at your bag.
“Yea, but if I hadn’t have opened my big soulless mouth, would you have gone to him?” He asks. You sigh and hang your head.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know anything anymore honestly,” you say, looking back at him. He smiles a little.
“Well, let me tell you what I know,” he says as he walks over. You sigh and cross your arms causing him laugh. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I know that you’ve been crazy about Dean since you were 12. I know that he’s wanted you since you went to prom with that Sanchez guy. And I know that you’ve both been running from each other for years,” he says. You shake your head slightly.
“But…”
“Talk to him, Y/N. Please,” Sam says. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone. You frown and run your hands over your face. Shaking your head again, you turn back to your bag. You hear the door open and the sound of boots walking across the floor.
“Sam, I swear,” you turn and stop short. Dean’s standing just inside the room. He glances at the bag sitting on the bed.
“Sam said you were packing,” he says. You frown and nod slightly.
“He’s back to normal,” you say. His face falls and he shakes his head.
“Don’t go,” he says. “We’re good together, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You picked her, Dean,” you say, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes.
“It was never because I wanted her more, Y/N. You gotta believe that. I was never fully present there with her. And she knew it. She thought it was Sam or hunting, and part of it was. But it was mostly you,” he says, walking towards you. “By the time I’d realized I’d made a mistake, I couldn’t just leave them. And I didn’t think you’d have me after the way I left either.” You wipe at your cheek, furiously.
“You abandoned me. You weren’t the only one grieving, you know? I mean, I get that he isn’t really my brother but I was hurting too,” you tell him. He frowns and shakes his head quickly.
“No, I know. I know you were and there is no excuse for what I did,” he says, reaching for your hands. You step back, balling your hands into fists at your sides.
“Sam said he saw you. That you were happy. Happier than you’d ever been. Happier than you could have been with – with me,” you say, trying to control your emotions. This was the conversation you had wanted to avoid. You hated letting people see you cry, especially Dean. He drops his hands at his side.
“Sam told you what he knew was going to keep you away from me. Because he knew that if you had shown up on that doorstep, I’d have been back in. In a heartbeat,” he says. “I’ve been happier in the last couple weeks with you than I was the whole year with her, even with the crap that’s been going on.” He tentatively reaches for your hands again and this time you allow him to take them.
“What if she calls?” You ask, still avoiding his eyes. He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your face to meet his.
“She won’t. It’s over. And even if she does, it won’t matter,” he tells you. You bite your lip, searching his eyes. “I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You name it and it’s yours. You want a dozen roses and a diamond ring or you want me to – to jump off the roof or paint your name on Baby or – or – okay, maybe not anything to do with Baby.” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, looking away. He smiles, leaning in towards you slightly. Your eyes close as his lips brush against your cheek.
“Me and you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper. You look back up at him now and he’s smiling at you softly.
“Me and you. Till the end of the road. I promise,” he says. You smile then stand up, pressing your lips against his. Your lips move in perfect sync, like it wasn’t the first time they’d ever met. You feel him smile before he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re staying then?”
“Oh, you’re never getting rid of me now,” you tell him, smirking. He laughs then lifts you up with ease, tossing you back onto the bed behind you.
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kryptid-writes · 10 months
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A Battle of Fates
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Y/n is just a regular girl whose dreams are haunted by the devil each night. When these dreams become a reality and she is forced to face her intertwined fate with Lucifer, her world is turned upside down. She is forcefully given the gift of grace and must learn to live with her new found powers with the help of two hunters and their angel. Will she choose to give into her destiny of loving the devil, or will she choose her own fate with a certain Winchester brother?
This story is 18+
This is a slow burn fic that has two endings which allows the reader to choose Dean or Lucifer. The reader is written as female, but descriptions are kept ambiguous to look like anyone.
Characters/pairings: Lucfier x reader, Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley.
General warnings for this story: Graphic violence, smut, and swearing. Other warnings may apply to specific chapters.
(Thank you to my editor and bestie, Tommy)
Chapter 1 - Dream a Little Dream of Me
Chapter 2 - A Gift From the Devil
Chapter 3 - Intruders & Trenchcoats
Chapter 4 - A Winchester Welcome
Chapter 5 - The Bearer of Bad News
Chapter 6 - A Lesson in Enochian
Chapter 7 - Secrets Secrets Are No Fun
Chapter 8 - Clipped Wings
Chapter 9 - Cat’s Out
Chapter 10 - Alone Again
Chapter 11 - Desperate Times
Chapter 12 - A Deal With the Devil
Chapter 13 - Revelations 
Chapter 14 - A Battle of Fates
Chapter 15 - Defying Fate (Dean’s Ending)
Chapter 16 - To Eternity (Lucifer’s Ending)
Full Masterlist
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supercap2319 · 2 months
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Y/N came down the stairs of the bunker towards the library. He had a stupid grin on his face, and he was carrying various Valentine's Day items. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
He hands the brothers, Cas, and Jack each a gift to commemorate this special occasion. He hands Castiel a heart-shaped box of chocolates. "Slut." He affectional calls the angel of the Lord. Cas opens the box and picks up a chocolate, and takes a bite before scarfing down the rest.
Y/N hands Jack at Teddy Bear. "Sweet face." Jack enthusiastically hugs the toy and introduces himself to the bear.
He looks at Dean. "Bitch." He hands him a store bought pie shaped like a heart as Dean's green eyes lighten up with joy.
Finally, he looks at Sam and hands him flowers. "For the sexiest guy that I know." Sam blushed and took the flowers and smelled them with a smile on his face.
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supernaturalfreewill · 4 months
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Your eyes were wide, terrified, and your breathing was ragged. You couldn't believe what—who you were staring at. "You're—you're dead. I saw you die. You were dead," you stuttered. "What the hell is this?"
Cas took a step toward you, his cobalt eyes soft and concerned, his hands in front of him in a show of good will. "I was. But now—I'm not."
You stepped back as he stepped forward. Your heart was screaming for you to believe him, but your head was yelling that it was impossible. "No—no, you were dead!"
"Y/N—it's me. Somehow, I was resurrected. I don't know how myself. I was gone. But now I'm back..."
You felt as if your knees were about to buckle. Tears stung in your eyes. Your heart was starting to beat out your head... "Is it—it can't really be—"
He took another cautious step forward. More than anything, he wanted to feel you in his arms again, press you against him, but you were still stunned staring at him with wide eyes.
"If it's really you, tell me something—tell me something only you would know," you said suddenly.
Cas nearly smiled. This would be easy. He knew everything little thing about you. He never forgot a single thing you told him or that he noticed, consider it an angelic super power. "You never liked Sesame Street as a child. You thought it was too loud. Your favorite tea is Wild Sweet Orange. You always sleep in socks, even in hot weather. Your first pet was a floppy-eared black bunny named Midnight. And—" another step toward you, "—the first time I kissed you was on that case in Kentucky, underneath the wisteria, and when I pulled back completely terrified, you grabbed me and kissed me again. And ever since then, I've never wanted to be parted from you for a single moment."
A tear broke out and ran down over your cheek. Your lips parted and though your eyes were still wide, they were less fearful. "I thought I was never going to see you again."
"I know," Cas said, nodding. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But, somehow, I'm here now and—"
He didn't need to say anymore, couldn't in fact, because you were kissing him. And it was almost as if no time had passed. You fell into each other the way two kindred souls do.
Prompt: "You're dead. I saw you die. You were dead!"
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slut-for-evans-stan · 1 month
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Can anyone please tell me which episode this is from? Been losing my mind trying to find it.
Please please comment and let me know.. where's this from??
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Also, we all know where Cas is in this one right? Lol 😏
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gilverrwrites · 3 months
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“If you will have me, I am yours.” 
Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)
Reader has AFAB body parts & feminine pronouns' are used.
Plot: The reader is a retired hunter, who develops feeling for Cas after he moves in with her. After living in domestic bliss for a while, its only a matter of time feelings are confessed, and sex is had.
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Please remember: to keep going, and keep growing.
Content: Rough/Kissing, blowjob, rough blowjob/face-fucking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk (Cas doesnt really have a filter) rough sex, swearing, accidental cuddling, intentional cuddling.
Rating: M/18+
Words: 3,377
Notice: The follow up: Takeout Tuesday is now available here.
Excerpt: You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?”  When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?” You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”
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Having Castiel around was pleasant, if a little surreal. You’d always considered him a friend, but it wasn’t the same. Previously you’d only really been around each other on the hunt. Or if Cas was involved, more like stopping an apocalypse. Your relationship had been entirely based on proximity, and necessity. There was never really time to bond beyond that. Until now. 
You’d decided to attempt retirement a while ago. You’d found a job and started subletting a decent apartment from a friend of a friend, on the preface that they could still crash on the couch when travelling across country. The hunting trade was a small world after all. 
In fact, your new landlord was exactly who you’d expected to see when someone came knocking on your door in the middle of the night. Not a tired, bloodied, and bruised Angel. Confused, you’d let him in, patched his wounds, cleaned him up, and let him sleep it off in your bed. After almost 48 hours of continuous sleep, he’d explained everything to you, thanked you for your hospitality, and told you he’d be out of your hair soon. You’d assertively informed him that the only place he would be going is from your bed, to your couch. 
From there you easily fell into a routine together, effortlessly bonded over shared experiences, old and new. It was nice, seeing his toothbrush next to yours, bringing home his favourite takeout every Tuesday. When he worked the early shift, he’d always make you a coffee before he left, on the late shifts he’d bring home a bottle of your favourite. He did the dishes, and you did the laundry. You were a secure little domestic team.
The surrealness came when you realised just how much you enjoyed it. You welled up with pride whenever he complimented something you’d cooked him from scratch. Starting your morning in his presence calmed any nerves, and on stressful days, coming home to dinner and a film with Cas was your respite. 
You were confused by the bitterness you felt when he called you one night to say he would be home late, citing a date with his boss, Nora. You were truly sad, but relieved when he informed you he had misread the invitation. That he was actually there to babysit. That’s when it hit you. Somewhere along the way, in between all the household chores, and the late-night Hulu binging, you’d fallen for him. 
You’d always thought he was hot, ever since he’d introduced himself as ‘Castiel, an Angel of the Lord’ all those years ago. However, you no longer needed to accidentally catch him leaving the shower, or bending under a table to feel flushed. Ever since the figurative penny dropped, all it took was a smile, or the brush of your chests in a tight hall to make you blush. 
Thoughts of Castiel and your myriad of complex feelings now plagued you, particularly as you lay in bed at night, knowing he was only feet away from you, just on the other side of your paper-thin walls. Paper-thin walls that did nothing to protect you from the sudden and deafeningly loud sound of the TV at 2AM. 
Not bothering to throw on bottoms, you stumble to your bedroom door in just a camisole and panties. The sight of Cas sitting on the couch, clad in nothing but boxers, desperately fiddling with the remote in an attempt to turn down the volume greeted you upon entry to the living room. 
Upon noticing you, Cas drops the remote and hastily reaches for his discarded comforter to cover himself with. In turn you rotated your entire body, averting your gaze in favour of the wall, primarily to respect his privacy, secondarily to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. 
“I’m so sorry!” You blurt.
“It’s okay.” He responds quietly. “I’m sorry for the noise. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
“It’s okay.” You repeat back to him. “I was awake, I couldn’t sleep either. You just made me jump.” 
“You can look now.” He informs you. Hoping the dim light from the TV doesn’t reveal too much of the colour in your face, you spin back. He was now covered from the waist down, but you couldn’t help noticing his bare chest, particularly the definition between his pecs, and the sharpness of his collarbones.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” You say, trying to re-direct your eyes to any other part of the room. 
“Unless…” He gestures to the television. “Would you care to join me?” 
“Sure.” You answer hesitantly. You weren’t sleeping anyway, what was the worst that could happen?
Castiel smiles amiably at you before returning his attention to the remote. You linger in your spot as he begins flicking through the different apps. When he makes no effort to locate and put on trousers you slowly settle down next to him, careful to leave enough distance to prevent any accidental skin-on-skin contact. 
“So, what are we watching?” 
 ————-
You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?” 
When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?”
You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”
You can’t see his expression from your current position, but he exhales, and you think he sounds relieved. 
It could be the scarcity of sleep, a ‘mind after midnight’ mirage, but this is when it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, he could be interested in you too. Why else would be lying beneath you, half-naked and seemingly completely at ease? Doubtful that you’d ever have this courage again you tilt your head up to look at him and ask; “Do you ever think about us?”
“I do.” He responds, he looks perplexed, which admittedly was his default expression.
“Do you ever think about us, as more than this?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you resume. “You know, like romantically? Or even intimately?” 
“I frequently think of you amorously.” He speaks tentatively, each word spoken very deliberately. “When Metatron took my grace from me, I never imagined that this was how my life would go. Of course, I never thought that my grace would be taken, or that I would live among humans as one of them in the first place.”
He seems to take a moment to compile his thoughts, sucking his bottom lip in concentration. You remain silent. Hoping he can’t feel the rapid thrum of your heart.
“I thought at first that I was broken. The fall, losing my wings was bad enough, but now, without my angelic abilities, I can’t do anything. Well, nothing of merit, at least where the needs of humankind are concerned.”
“That’s not true.” You interject, you move to sit up, to be at eye level with him, but due to your already precarious position, the only way to do so is by shifting a leg over his lap, thus straddling him.
“I know that now.” He says as he grips your wrists and brings them to his shoulders, offering you extra support. “Without meaning to overstep, or make you uncomfortable, but living with- existing beside you has been a far more fulfilling experience than most of the things I have accomplished in the many billions of years I have existed.
I have very little practice in the ways of human sexuality, and even less so with courtship. However, I would be honoured, and extremely happy if you would allow me to explore such things, with you.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you will have me, I am yours.” 
There's a tense moment of silence between you both in which neither of you dare to break eye contact before you surge to him. You instigate the kiss, but Cas is fast to take control, his arms pull your body to him, driving your lips to press hard against his. When he rocks his hips up, kneading his semi-hard cock against your clothed core, you gasp. Cas immediately slips his tongue between your lips. You can’t hold back the groan that escapes you. His mouth tastes like coffee and artificial grape. You savour the feel and aroma of his lips before pulling back momentarily. 
“Only if I can be yours too.” You finally respond before he’s on you again. You freely open up for him, allowing him to explore your mouth once more. His tongue eagerly swirls against yours, exploring every crevice. His hands drop to clutch your waist, holding you in place as he ruts against you from below. 
It was you who broke the kiss again, locking your eyes with him as you climb off his lap. 
“Let me take care of you.” You chime as you drop to your knees on the floor below him. Cas quickly follows, sitting up straight, and planting his legs on either side of you. The comforter banished to the other end of the sofa.  
“You… You look so beautiful like that. On your knees.” He smiles down at you and reaches out to cup your face, strong fingers gently brush along your jaw before his thumb extends up to your lips. You press a kiss to its pad before parting your lips and taking him in. His skin tastes clean, with a hint of salt, and something florally. 
“Let me suck your cock.” You state, voice muffled by the pressure on your tongue.
His cheeks are tinted pink. You’re unsure if it's from arousal or nerves but he stands to pull off his boxers and settles back down. You can’t help but lick your lips when his cock is revealed, it's long and already hard. 
You don’t waste any time, immediately situating your tongue on the underside of his shaft and running it from tip to hilt. You stop momentarily to plant a kiss on his balls, before running back up his length. When you look back up Cas is watching you intensely, brow furrowed, lids heavy, lips between his teeth. You smile before wrapping your mouth around his cock. Pausing only slightly when you feel Cas cup the back of your head. 
You inch yourself down his length slowly, getting a feel for him, his thickness, and how much you can take at once. When you feel his tip hit the back of your throat, you pull back, before bobbing back down. The sound of Castiel’s’ hitched breathing drives you until you’re relaxed enough to take him completely. His thickness stretches your throat, making your eyes water, his pubic hair tickles your nose, and the look of bliss on his face makes your pussy drip. 
After a few seconds, you come back up for air, but the relief in your lungs only lasts a second before you feel Cas’ fists tighten against your scalp. 
“You look even better with my cock in your mouth.” He grunts as he pushes you back down. “You feel so good.”
Unable to respond, you hum your affirmation, drool escaping the corners of your mouth. Cas moans his approval, eyes and head lolling back for a moment before he plants his other hand firmly on the back of your head, holding you in place as he shifts to the edge of the couch and begins bucking his hips into your mouth. 
You plant your hands around his calves to steady yourself, and keep them out of the way as he continues to use your mouth. His thrusts grow heavier, his moans raspier, as you fight your need for air. Your cunt growing hotter, wetter every second, while your throat closes, and your head grows dizzy from the lack of air.
When he finally lets you go, your lungs are burning. You lean back, unable to control the wild rise and fall of your chest as you pant for air. Your lips feel sore, swollen, but your pussy aches. 
“I’m sorry.” Cas reaches over to cradle your face, tentatively brushing the tears from your eyes. “Was that too much?” 
“No! No not at all.” You whisper between breaths. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it. His head tilts to one side as he looks down at you sceptically. You smile back as you guide him between your legs. You brush his fingers against your panties, encouraging him to feel the wetness soaking through the fabric.
“I did that? I made you this wet?” He asks. When you nod his mouth cracks into a smile.
Within seconds he drops to his knees before you, pulling you in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongues meet in another fierce, uncontrolled kiss. You cry out into his mouth when you feel his fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.
Without warning Cas clutches onto your panties and pulls until the elastic snaps. He releases the offending article and quickly returns to your wetness. He strokes your clit repeatedly, swallowing your moans, holding you to his chest to prevent you from involuntarily withering away.
You break your lips away from his just long enough to plead; “Fuck me Cas, please fuck me with your fingers.”
He doesn’t hesitate to do as asked, immediately delving two fingers into your pussy. Once situated inside, he massages them against your walls, feeling you out and making you sputter. You grip his shoulders for support, digging your nails into his skin as he starts to thrust in and out of you.
“Like this?” He questions, you’re not sure if he’s being coy, if he’s teasing. Or if he truly is curious. Either way, you’re too gone to really answer. You open your mouth but all that comes out are a series of strangled whimpers. The feel of his thumb returning to your clit, gently brushing just the right spot, pushes you to breaking point. 
“I’m- I – ahhh.” You cry, trying to warn him. When you jerk your head back there is resistance. Cas releases his hold on your back, to grips your head forward. You peek up at him through half-lidded eyes, Cas stares, his blue eyes bare down on you, unblinking. If you weren’t already cumming, that would have been enough. 
You lean into Castiel’s body as you come back down, limp, and incoherent. A low hum escapes you as Cas languidly removes his fingers from inside you and brings them to his lips. You watch lazily as he gives them a tentative sniff before placing them in his mouth. His face seems to melt, and he closes his eyes, visibly savouring the taste. 
When he’s done, he grins at you and ponders aloud; “I’m not sure which is better.”
Still unable to string two words together you watch him, waiting for him to continue.
“The way you look when you reach orgasm, or the way you taste.” 
Instantly your cheeks begin to burn, and heat pools between your legs again. Without a second thought you reach down, grabbing your cami by the hem and lifting it over your head, your entire body now exposed to Castiel. 
He’s on you again in an instant. His mouth latches to one of your nipples, rapidly but lightly his tongue darts over the sensitive nip. Both hands come up to cup each breast. His fingers pinch and roll at your other exposed nipple. When you feel his teeth grazing the sensitive skin you flinch, fisting your hands into his hair. 
“Cas, please!” You gasp.
“Please what?” He responds, speech distorted by his refusal to remove his mouth from your body. 
“Please take me to bed.” You whine, needlessly pulling at his hair to garner his attention. “Please Castiel, take me to bed-”
You’re interrupted by the jolt of your body being lifted. Cas continues his oral assault, kissing, sucking, nipping at your neck as he carries you back to your bed. He sits himself on the edge of your bed and positions you to straddle him once again. You pull his attention back from your neck, sinking your lips onto his as you guide him down, until he’s lying face up.
You lean back and he sucks in a breath as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You line him up at your entrance and he begins gradually rocking into you. You steadily sink down, the feel of his cock stretching you out making you shudder. Cas’s head rolls back, he bites his lip and grips your hips, barely fighting not to slam you down onto him.
When his cock is fully inside, you pull back up until only the tip remains inside before you drop back onto him.
With a loud moan, Cas engulfs your body with his own and flips you over. He holds you beneath him with the weight of his own body as he gives a few shallow, testing thrusts. Satisfied he begins building pace and force, until the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard between ragged breaths and moans. You raise your lower body, trying to match his rhythm but his hands lock onto your hips and push them down, pinning you to the bed.
His lips are tight between his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his skin glows with a sheen of sweat. You can’t help but paw at his shoulders, bringing him down so you can plant kisses on his face and neck.
“Cas, fuck. Castiel that feels so good.” You praise.
In response, he catches your lips in a desperate kiss, all tongues and teeth and jumbled sounds that may once have been words. Your toes begin to curl, as your climax grows near. You lock your fingers in Castiel's hair, pulling his face away as you arch your back. Your eyes close tight as you chant his name.
“I love it when you moan my name.” He murmurs in your ear. He releases your hips, and grips your face, forcing it back up. Your eyes peek open as growls his next words. “Look at me, and don’t stop saying my name.”
At that, the tension in your cunt snaps. Your body jerks and your walls clench around him as you hit your climax. Castiel rides you through it, his strides slowing, but he continues fucking into you at a steady pace until he’s seemingly overcome by his own orgasm. His movements becoming laboured and erratic, he pants your name through gritted teeth as he spills his cum inside you.
You remain wrapped up in your position as you come down from your highs, the warmth of his breath tickles your neck, and your chests collide as you fight to catch your breath. Your mind races, trying to find the right thing to say next, not wanting to spoil your post-orgasm bliss. Eventually, you nudge his shoulder, and he moved away, allowing you to sit up. His cum seeps out of you as you do. Before you can make a move to clean it up Cas attains the tissues from your dresser and begins delicately wiping you down.
“Thank you.” You smile at him as he finishes and begins to clean himself up.
“I… ah.” He smiles back at you, still flushed from your activities. “I feel I should be the one thanking you.”
You laugh at the absurdity of his statement, especially after the performance he’d just given. Cas soon reciprocates your laughter. You stretch your arms out, inviting him back in for an embrace and he eagerly obliges, wrapping his arms around you and falling back against your mattress.
“Will you sleep in here, with me tonight?” Your eyes catch the clock on your bedside, and you note that it is almost sunrise. “Or, for the rest of the morning?”
He kisses your forehead and pulls you in close. “I would enjoy that very much.”
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kaleldobrev · 8 months
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The First Butterfly
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Pairing: Castiel/Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Cas bond over your current interest in butterflies
Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey, I just found your blog and it's so pretty! I really like your writing^^ Could I please request something for Castiel x female reader, where maybe they're not on hunts and they're just taking a break, and maybe he sees her reading something like a book about butterflies or something like this and he starts talking about them and it's just fluff? Thank you in advance ^^
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Cursing (1x), Lots of fluff, Dean bothering you (but lovingly like a brother cause he's bored)
Authors Note: I haven’t written Cas in such a long time, but I missed writing him | I hope this is as fluffy as you were hoping my sweet anon friend! | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It’s been a little over a week since you and the boys have been on a hunt, and you could tell that Dean was starting to get a little stir crazy despite your best efforts to keep him entertained with various ideas of things he could do besides bother you.
“Are you sure there’s nothing? Not even a vengeful spirit?” Dean asked you, taking a seat across from you in the War Room, propping his feet up on the table.
You looked up from your book - a book that you’d been trying to read for the past week. You gave Dean a look, a slightly annoyed look. “If there was a case Dean, don’t you think I would have told you guys?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed. You nodded, and then went back to trying to read your book, keeping your finger on the edge of the page. “It’s just, it’s never been this quiet.” He said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. You looked up at him with that same annoyed expression you had given him earlier.
“I call that a good thing.” You said, looking down at your book again. You turned the page, finally able to read something new.
“I just really need to kill something.” Dean said banging a fist onto the table, the action making you jump in your chair. “Shit.”
“Sorry.” You closed your book with a firm slap, quickly getting up from your chair. “Where ya goin’?” He asked, watching as you started walking away from him.
“To my room!” You stated, loudly. “And with my door shut!” You emphasized.
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For about the last hour you had finally found some peace in your room; actually being able to read more than one page - something you hadn’t been able to do due to the distractions Dean had caused you. As much as you loved the man, you wished he had taken some of your advice and did things to keep himself occupied during this weird break you and the boys have had. Despite loving hunting, having a break was something that was a rarity; and it was times like these in which you cherished it.
Lying in bed there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. You let out an annoyed groan, expecting it to be Dean on the other side. “Go away Dean!” You stated, only briefly looking away from your book.
“It’s…me.” A small amount of relief had entered your body at that moment, happy to know that it wasn’t Dean on the other side of the door but in fact Cas. “May I…May I come in?”
“Yeah you can come in.” You said, closing the book in front of you. As much as you had wanted and tried to read the book in front of you for the past week, Cas was someone that you hadn’t seen or spoken to in about two weeks - so for you, this took precedence.
“What’s up?” You asked as Cas walked into your room, closing the door behind him.
“Nothing. It’s been quiet.” He stated, standing awkwardly next to your door.
“Nothing on angel radio uh?” You asked, sitting up now.
He shook his head. “No.” He said simply.
You patted an empty spot on your bed. “Come sit.”
He smiled at your gesture, sitting down on the edge, very much away from the spot that you had touched. As he sat down he eyed the book that you had been reading and picked it up, the smile on his face grew a tad. “I remember when He made the first butterfly. It was truly a sight to behold.” He said opening the book.
For the past week you had been trying to read a book about butterflies, a subject that you had found yourself quite interested in as of late; not really knowing why. “I bet it was.” You said, watching Cas turning the pages of the book. “I haven’t read much, but, I’m really enjoying the book. What makes it interesting, at least to me, is that it tells you a bunch of different things about the various butterfly species around the world. Their habits, characteristics, what makes each of them special in their own unique way.”
“Do you have a favorite?” He asked, looking up from the book to look at you. He had stopped at a page talking about common species of butterflies found in Kansas - a page that you had bookmarked.
“The Red Admiral.” You smiled. “It’s the most common butterfly species to be found in Kansas. And one of the most unique things about them is their diet. Did you know that they love fermented fruit?”
Cas smiled. “That is quite interesting. I didn’t know that.” He said, lying. Of course he knew that fact, but that wasn’t something he was going to disclose to you. For the first time since he had known you, this genuinely seemed like a subject that you were truly interested in, and he wasn’t about to seem like a know-it-all, or seem dismissive when it came to this particular interest of yours.
“Do you have a favorite?” You asked. You knew that Cas had lied to you, but you didn’t care in that moment that he did because you were happy that he was humoring you in your interest.
“The Protocoeliades kristenseni. But, I have to say, I’m a little bias.” He chuckled to himself.
“How so?” It was a species that you hadn’t heard of before, despite your reading.
“They’re the oldest species of butterfly.” He stated, you nodded understanding. Sometimes you had forgotten how old Cas really was; until moments like these had taken place.
“I can see why you’re bias.” Your tone joking.
“I can probably say the same for you when it comes to the Red Admiral.” His tone now joking too.
You shrugged. “What can I say? Kansas as grown on me.”
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“It’s honestly so hard to believe that there is over twenty thousand butterfly species in the world.” You said, you and Cas were now lying in your bed now; yourself underneath the covers and him on top. Cas chuckled at your comment. “What?”
“It’s humorous to me that you find that unbelievable but yet you hunt monsters, things that people do not believe in.” When he had said it out loud, it did in fact sound funny.
“When you put it that way…” you trailed off. “Makes it funnier coming from you. An angel of all things.”
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“So, if you were around when the first butterfly was created, what did God originally call them?” You asked. “Did you and the rest of the angels get a vote? Or was it one of those things where he wasn’t taking any suggestions?” You turned on your side now, propping up your head with your hand and elbow.
“We, we didn’t get a vote no.” Cas said, smiling, trying to hold back a small laugh. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t up to us. But, I think Joshua did have some say. He was the gardener after all.”
“So it was always butterflies?” You asked.
“Essentially yes.” He said. “Buterfleoge, but it’s just Old English for butterfly today.”
“So, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it uh?” You said, Cas looked at you confused. “Meaning, why change the name if it makes sense.” You explained. “Butterfly doesn’t make sense though. I mean, I hate to say this but, was God…high when he named them? I mean, no butterfly looks like a stick of butter. And I know for a damn fact that butter wasn’t around yet either when he created them…or named them.”
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“Jesus.” You were amazed. “I didn’t think you would actually do it.” You said.
“It’s not that difficult.” He said, as he started playing with his fingers.
“You named every single species of butterfly like it was nothing. That’s…that’s pretty impressive.” And it was. There was over twenty thousand species and Cas was able to name them all in less than 15 minutes, a feat that you didn’t think he would be able to pull off.
“It’s just as impressive to me as when you name every single Queen song like it’s nothing.” He said.
“You can thank Dean for that weird talent I have.” You stated. “Being in the car with that man every day for years will do that to you. Because of him, I know every single band from the 70s and 80s along with all of their members past and present, along with the names of all of their songs. Including, all the lyrics to said songs. Helps when he listens to the same albums over and over and sings along.”
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“What got you interested in butterflies? I’ve never seen you read about them before?” Cas asked, he was now underneath the covers with you now, his trench coat hung neatly on the coat rack in your room in the corner.
“I don’t know. I just…for some reason I found myself really into them lately.” You said honestly. You had found butterflies interesting when you were younger, but it wasn’t a subject that you hadn’t delved deep into until recently. “I guess, I guess I really never had the time to look into anything that had interested me because of hunting.”
“Because it’s something that you were born into.” He stared, and you nodded.
“Yeah. While other kids were playing Barbie’s, talking about unicorns and butterflies and I was learning how to hustle pool and how to load a gun.” You were born into a family of hunters, kind of similar to the way Sam and Dean had been.
“I’m sorry.” His apology sincere.
“It’s not your fault. And, I know it seems like I’m complaining about my childhood but, my parents really were good people. Did the best they could.” For a while, you were mad at your parents, mad that they had raised you the way that they did - never letting you get the chance to be a normal kid. But in their own strange way, they raised you that way so you would always be able to protect yourself no matter what.
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You had fallen asleep, your head leaning on Cas’ shoulder. The two of you had been talking for hours, and between the actual time and the amount of talking the two of you had done it had started to wear you out. Cas knew that you had wanted to talk to him more, talk to him about everything that you had learned so far from your book, but for the life of you, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. And as you talked about the Monarch Butterfly, your eyes had started to grow heavy. You had tried to fight it, and Cas saw that. As much as he had wanted to try and keep you up, he knew that you needed the sleep. The life of a hunter was tough, and not getting a lot of sleep was a part of the job. That is why he let you drift off into dream land so you could get that sleep that you needed.
He decided to stay there in bed with you. He wanted to enjoy the peacefulness of watching you sleep, something that he had always found fascinating to watch when it came to humans. He had only hoped that you were dreaming of butterflies. With a kiss on the top of your head, he shut his eyes too; not to sleep of course, but to just let them rest as he waited for you to wake up.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be on a tag list, let me know!
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octoberclidan · 4 months
Text
You're Not Okay
Request: hiii can u do reader having a bad day and whenever sam and dean asks whats wrong shes just like "oh im fine" but cass notices everything and at the end of the day he just like comforts her and its just a lot of fluff? (reader x cass)
Pairing: Castiel x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
It was late at night, and [Y/N] was alone in the motel room. She'd just finished up a hunt with Sam and Dean, and while they'd gone out to a bar to celebrate, [Y/N] had hurt her foot and had hit her head, so she just wanted to rest in peace and try to ignore the pain. She also wanted to forget the image of Dean shouting at her to stop being so clumsy. He had a habit of snapping at her whenever she got injured on a hunt. She knew it was because he cared and was scared to lose her or see her hurt, but his words still stung anyway. She'd been watching TV when she'd fallen asleep on one of the beds that hadn't originally been hers, but after getting hurt, Dean had insisted she take it instead of her usual spot on the couch. Despite being annoyed at her, he still didn't want her to be in any more pain that she already was. She was tossing and turning, and her breathing was erratic.
[Y/N] was thrown against a wall, landing on her hands and knees on the cool concrete of the warehouse. Her ears were ringing and her head hurt, and her vision was blurry as she tried to look around the room for the witch. Someone was shouting at her - Sam? No, it sounded more like Dean. She couldn't make out what they were saying to her, but it sounded important. A dark figure was getting closer to her, and for a moment she thought one of the boys were going to help her up, but the figure was too short to be either of them. The figure mumbled something, and she suddenly felt a searing pain in her foot. She tried to grab it but she was once again thrown back against the wall. She looked up, and the figure was getting closer. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't move, she couldn't scream, she couldn't...
She woke up, sitting straight up in bed trying to catch her breath. There was a 'click' sound to her left and her head shot towards the door, only to find Dean walking into the room, Sam following behind him. "Morning", Dean smiled sheepishly at her as he shrugged off his coat. "How's your foot?"
"Hope we didn't wake you", Sam said as he flicked on the light to see where he was going. It was still dark out, so she figured it must still be very early. "Hey, are you okay?" He squinted at her as his eyes became accustomed to the light.
"Why are you sweating? It's not exactly warm in here", Dean walked over to her and felt her forehead, but she pushed his hand off.
"I'm fine, just tired. What time is it?"
"It's uh, 4:30am", Sam said as he walked over to her bed. "You sure you're okay? I can take a look at your foot, make sure it's not showing signs of infection", he said as he began to lift her covers up. She groaned and grabbed them back from him.
"I said I'm fine, I'm just tired, and it's still early so if it's okay with both of you, I'd like to get back to sleep. Okay?"
"Okay". Sam held up his hands in defence and stepped away from the bed, sharing a look of concern with his brother. "We're sorry for waking you". They decided not to push it and just get some sleep themselves. She felt a little bit bad for snapping at them, but the ache in her foot and head were getting to her. She decided she'd apologise in the morning, and closed her eyes to try and sleep as she heard Sam and Dean settle down.
Sam was already asleep in his bed and Dean was getting close to falling asleep on the couch when the door opened again. [Y/N] turned her head and felt a little rush of joy as Cas walked into the room. His eyes glanced over Sam and Dean briefly, but he focused on [Y/N]. She always felt her mood lift whenever Cas was around, there was just something about him that she found calming. He hadn't been around much lately, being busy with other things, but that just made it even more special when he was there.
"Dean told me you got hurt", he said as he walked over to the bed, concern filling his eyes.
"Apparently she's fine", Dean mumbled from the couch, not bothering to open his eyes while [Y/N] rolled hers.
"I am fine, just have a sore foot. Normal hunting injury", she shrugged but Cas' concern didn't lift. She didn't protest as he raised his hand to press his fingers to her forehead, and she relaxed as she felt warmth flow through her.
"You had a fracture in your foot, and you also had a slight concussion. That is not fine", he said as he sat down on the edge of her bed, his eyes boring into hers.
"Oh", she said, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. "Thank you".
"You're welcome. You should sleep, I'll wait for the three of you to wake up later".
"Are you going to stay here?" She asked, hopeful that he'd stay, since she always slept better when he was in the room, though she'd never admitted that to anyone. She could imagine the teasing if Dean found out, or even Sam.
"No, I have to..." He paused when he saw her face drop, recognising her disappointment, something that he didn't like seeing. He pretended to clear his throat, a time-filler he'd picked up from Sam over the years. "I mean, yes. I'll stay until you wake up, I can do what I need to from here".
"I'll see you in the morning then", she smiled at he gave her a small smile back.
"Sleep well, [Y/N]".
***
After a couple of hours of sleep, the morning sun started to break through the motel's thin and moth-eaten curtains, stirring her. [Y/N] blinked her eyes open to find Sam stretching in his bed, and Dean already sitting up on the couch with a mug of coffee in his hands. Cas was sitting at the table, an old book laid out in front of him, but he was watching [Y/N]. He quickly averted his gaze when she looked at him, so to her, it looked like he was engrossed in his book. "Morning", she said to the room.
"Hey", Sam said as he stood up from his bed, heading to the bathroom. "Guess we're heading out back to the bunker as soon as possible? Unless we need to stop anywhere on the way back".
"As soon as the two of you are up and ready", Dean nodded at him. Sam nodded back before closing the bathroom door behind him. [Y/N] stretched, glad that the pain in her foot and head was gone. She pushed her covers back and got out of the bed to walk over to the counter beside Dean and Cas, which had a small coffee machine on it. She poured herself a cup and was about to sit down beside Dean, but he readjusted his legs at just the wrong moment and she ended up tripping over them, spilling the coffee on him in the process and catching herself on the couch.
"That fucking burns!" Dean stood straight up off the couch and pulled his now wet t-shirt away from his body and shaking it up and down to fan himself. "
"I am so sorry, I tripped when you moved your legs", [Y/N] said as she stood up, grimacing at Dean's glare.
"Dean, I can heal that", Cas said as he stood up from his seat, walking over to Dean with his hand out and ready.
"Yeah? Can you clean my shirt too?" He asked sarcastically. "This was my last one, I'm gonna have to drive while soaked and smelling of coffee. I'm going to stink up Baby now", he sighed as Cas healed the very small burn on his chest, something that probably would've healed on its own within a day or two.
"Maybe you can borrow one of Sam's?" [Y/N] suggested, but she was only met with another of Dean's glares.
"Maybe you can watch where you're going?" Dean mimicked her voice, mocking her.
"Dean, it was just an accident", Cas spoke up for her, but Dean just waved him off and left the room. "Are you alright?" Cas asked, turning to [Y/N]. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, she hated when someone she cared about was mad at her, but she nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine".
"No, you're not, you-"
"Hey, Dean already out at the car?" Cas was cut off by Sam coming out of the bathroom. "What's wrong?" He frowned at Cas' concerned expression and [Y/N]'s attempt to sniff and clear her throat quietly.
"Nothing", [Y/N] spoke quickly before Cas did. "I uh, I spilled coffee on Dean's shirt, do you have any spare ones?" She asked and Sam went to his bag to rummage through it, pulling out a clean t-shirt and smiling at her, earning a relieved smile back from her. "Thanks", she breathed out, grabbing her bag and stepping into the bathroom to get ready quickly herself, not wanting the rest of them to be waiting too long for her. She took a deep breath and shook herself off, looking into the bathroom mirror. "Bad start doesn't mean you write it off as a bad day", she said to herself.
***
It was mid afternoon when they stopped at a gas station for Dean to fill up the car. "You want anything? I'm just gonna go in and find a snack or something", [Y/N] asked Sam and Cas while Dean was just about to turn off the engine. She was sitting in the back beside Cas, and the journey had been pretty quiet, all of them tired from the hunt and lack of sleep, well, except Cas. She didn't really want a snack, she just wanted a chance to be alone with Dean to apologise to him properly. When Sam and Cas both declined her offer, and Dean was closing his door behind him to head into the store, [Y/N] opened her door to follow behind him.
Dean pushed the door to the store open and stepped aside for her, ushering her in. She was in the middle of saying thank you, when she tripped over the small step in the doorway. She was about to brace herself for the fall when a strong arm hooked around her waist and pulled her back, steadying her. She turned around and looked up at Dean, finishing her 'thank you', but now meant for a different reason, and now with much more embarrassment. She mentally scolded herself for not watching where she was going, again, and especially in front of Dean. She expected another snarky comment from him, but looked up at him in confusion when he chuckled to himself as he let go of her. "You're okay. I'm uh, sorry for snapping at you during the hunt and also this morning. You know how I get when someone I care about gets hurt and I'm running on no sleep".
"It's fine, I deserved it. I do need to watch where I'm going. I wanted to say sorry for spilling my coffee on you earlier actually".
"Don't worry about it, forgiven and forgotton", he smiled down at her, and she smiled back, though it wasn't a smile that reached her eyes. "You okay?"
"Yeah... yeah I'm fine", she nodded. "I'll meet you back out at the car, I'm just gonna grab a snack". She parted ways with Dean and found a packet of her favourite snack, hoping that it would brighten up her day a little bit. She was feeling a bit useless, or more like a hindrance than a help to the team at the moment. It was really getting her down. She planned to spend a solid chunk of each day training until the next hunt. Maybe she could improve her balance, or her spatial awareness.
***
"Are you serious?" [Y/N] groaned, throwing head back in the car.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked from his place in the front, and Cas turned to look at her too.
"Look!" She showed both of them the packet she'd opened, the one she'd bought at the gas station. "These are supposed to be dry, not a... wet, soggy... whatever this is!"
"Is that mould?" Sam asked, crinkling his nose as he looked into the bag.
"I dont want to know what it is", she shook her head as she closed the bag.
"Don't even think about putting that down anywhere in Baby, put it in your bag", Dean warned her, catching her eyes in the rearview mirror. "We'll be back in an hour or so".
"I don't want this is my bag", she complained.
"Well it's not touching my car", Dean replied.
"I'll take it", Cas reached over and took the packet from her, holding it in his lap. "Are you hungry?" He asked.
"Not after smelling that... you don't have to hold it for me, Cas".
"It doesn't bother me".
"Well... thank you", she smiled at him, and he smiled back. He knew she wasn't having the best day, so anything he could do to make it better, he would do.
***
[Y/N] unpacked her bag when she got back to the bunker, and took a moment to sit on her bed. It was the evening at this stage, and although the day hadn't been the worst she'd ever had, it hadn't exactly been the best either. She was trying not to let the little things get to her, but she was finding it difficult. Cas was out in the library, researching something to do with a long-lost tablet that could be helpful with supplying energy to heaven. She had told him that she'd help once she'd unpacked, so once she had pushed her negative thoughts to the back of her mind, she stood up and made her way to the library.
She found him sitting at the desk, a pile of books in front of him, and pieces of paper scattered around the table. He looked focused, eyebrows furrowed as he read from a very old, very dusty looking piece of parchment. She stood in the doorway for just a minute, enjoying his calming presence, until he looked up at her, his concentration breaking. "Hello [Y/N], do you still have time to help?" He asked, and she nodded, stepping into the room.
"Of course, I'm free for the rest of the evening", she said as she walked over to him. Unfortunately, she brushed against a loose piece of paper that was hanging over the edge of the table as she went to pull out a chair. It caught against her hip and was pulled out, along with about thirty other pieces of loose paper that were lying on top of it. They all scattered across the library's floor, flying in all directions and spreading their dust as they settled. She stood there, looking at them, and sighed. No matter what she did, something had to go wrong. "I don't even know why I try. I don't know why you wanted my help, I'm the definition of unhelpfullness. No, it's more than that. I make everything worse", she said, gesturing to the fall paper. At her words, Cas stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her arms and looking down at her.
"That's not true", he said, and she chuckled, blinking back tears as she did. "You're not okay, you need to talk. You can talk to me, [Y/N]". He hated seeing her upset, especially at herself. "Will you sit with me?" He asked, letting go of one of her arms so he could tilt her chin up to look at him. He wiped away a stray tear that escaped. "Please".
"You're too busy for this", she shook her head, but he grabbed her hand and led her to a chair at the table. He took another chair and pulled it in front of her, sitting down so his knees touched hers.
"I'm never too busy for you. You will tell me what's wrong, I'll listen, and then if you want I can offer my advice. If you don't want advice, then we can just sit together". She looked up at him and took a shaky breath, but smiled at his offer.
"There isn't really much to advise on. I'm clumsy, I don't look where I'm going, and that just makes everything harder for the people I'm just trying to help", she shrugged, and looked down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers.
"Hey", Cas took her hands in his. His hands were warm and secure, and she instantly found comfort in them. "Everyone messes up sometimes. You, me, Sam, Dean... we all have our strengths and our weaknesses. You are a little bit clumsy, but you're also one of the most intelligent hunters I've ever met. Your plans succeed more than anyone else's. I also... uh", he looked away in embarrassment, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"You also what?"
"I like that you're a little bit clumsy. It... amuses me. Or maybe amuses isn't the right word", he shook his head. "I find it... endearing. It's you, and I like you".
"Endearing?" She asked, her confusion now falling away and a smile pulling at her lips.
"Yes. I don't like it when you get hurt, of course, but if you had absolutely no faults then you wouldn't be you". He looked a little bit bashful as he spoke to her, now avoiding eye contact.
"Thank you, Cas", she squeezed his hands. "I've had a bad day but I don't feel so bad now". She smiled and he smiled back at her, glad she didn't look sad anymore.
"Come here", he said as he stood up, pulling her up and into a hug. She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned her head against his chest. His arms held her close, and he stroked her back comfortingly. After a couple of minutes, he leaned back and she looked up at him. "Why don't we pick the papers off the floor, and then you can help me with my research?" He asked and she nodded. She was thankful for the nice end to her bad day, and to Cas for making her feel better about herself.
The end
Castiel Taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx
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Text
Prompt: okay but cas would show up with a handful of weeds, with the roots and dirt still on the bottom, and give them to dean because 'it's the human tradition to bring flowers, right?' and dean would 'yeah. yeah cas that's right' because that is how they say i love you @deanspunchingbag
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Title: Surprise me
Pairing: Castiel x Reader (they/them)
Characters: Castiel, Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,
Word Count: 1,254
Summary: What if you’re friends with Castiel and the Winchester brothers? Castiel, as an angel, obviously has issues with understanding body language and subtext, so you help him out now and then. One day after a case, you all go to a bar. For shits and giggles, you start teaching him about flirting. You’re not a great flirt, but you can read body language and explain it.
Thank Jack that Castiel doesn’t know you’ve been in love with him for a while. If only he would reciprocate your feelings, even a little.
Warnings: Alcohol, consensual licking of arms and neck (sort of)
A/N: This was the first idea I came up with for the prompt and it became self-indulgent. Hush. This is in second person POV.
What if you’re friends with Castiel and the Winchester brothers? Castiel, as an angel, obviously has issues with understanding body language and subtext, so you help him out now and then. One day after a case, you all go to a bar. For shits and giggles, you start teaching him about flirting. You’re not a great flirt, but you can read body language and explain it.
Dean, of course, interrupts you and explains to Castiel, for a couple hours, how to flirt with the ladies and men. You just giggle and chuckle at the stories he tells. It’s even funnier when Dean makes Castiel “practice” these “new moves” on him. Dean keeps at it, and finally the angel seems to be getting the hang of it.
Suddenly, Castiel gets up and goes to get everyone another round of beers, deciding to all get a shot of tequila, salt and lime. He sits back down next to you and distributes everything evenly. He tells you “The bartender said it could be a good tool to flirt with so I thought I’d try, but they didn’t explain how.”
Dean tells Cas to watch Sam and him. Sam and Dean eye each other in their silent communication, they salt and lemon their wrists and lick before shooting the tequila. You giggle when you see their faces.
The brothers aren’t big tequila people,they prefer whiskey or bourbon.
Castiel looks confused and says “That doesn’t seem very flirty.”
You giggle at them and tell Cas that “It isn’t. They’re chicken.”
Castiel then asks you to show him how to shoot the tequila flirtatiously. You know you’re a bit more than buzzed for this, and mumble “What the hell, why not?”
“Okay,” you begin. “I’ll show you. The idea is to make it as close to a body shot as you can, since putting your mouth on someone can be considered flirting if not a potential interest in sex.” You tell him step by step how to make a tequila shot flirty and sexy by taking the ladies wrist—you take Castiel’s wrist, in this case, and place a kiss on the sensitive area/spot inside before licking it.
You tell him how “Most people will laugh it off. That’s when you salt the wet area on their wrist so it sticks.” You salt his wrist and then grab the slice of lime, telling the blue-eyed man to open his mouth only a little. He looks confused, but does as instructed.
You notice Dean and Sam eyeing each other again and nod. They make some excuse to get up, and walk away as you continue teaching the angel.
You stick the lime in Castiel’s mouth to hold it. “The idea is to get a subtle kiss here. They’re going to come and bite the lime to get the juice, and you can either let them have the lime when they do, keep the lime so they only get the juice and you get the lip press, or if you wanna be a true sneak, spit out the lime and get the kiss you want instead.” You smirk at him, not telling him you’ve always been scared to do the latter.
Castiel quirks a brow at you and you have to stop the shiver that it causes, dominating you so easily.
He’d only have to do that brow at you and you’d probably do whatever he says. You can feel yourself beginning to get wet.
Ignoring it, you continue your lesson.
“So, you lick the salt, juice the lime and shoot the tequila, but this is the flirt…sexy way.”
He squints his eyes at you.
“You ready?”
He nods. “Yes.”
Still holding his wrist, you proceed to lick his wrist.
With his free hand, Castiel removes the lime and asks, “If this were you doing this to a man or woman, what would you do?”
“Me?” You ask. “For a guy I wanted to sleep with, I’d just ask him if he wants to go back to my place for sex. Men tend to like directness, from my experience. Women, though, I’d flirt with and tease. I’d probably do what I’m doing right now and make sure I was the one with the lime, so we could make out instead of shooting tequila.”
“You haven’t tried flirting with men?” Castiel inquires.
“I have, but I get nervous for some reason. I’ve taught many friends how to successfully flirt, but for some reason I end up acting like a fish or stuttering when I try to flirt with me.” You roll your eyes and shrug. “It’s easier to be friends with people I like than it is to actually…pursue,” you quietly confess to Castiel.
Castiel tilts his head, keeping his eyes on you for nearly a minute in silence. The silence isn’t awkward, but calming and companionable.
It is one of your favorite things about Castiel, you think to yourself. You can just sit together and do different things, but still feel like you’re engaged and doing something together…or maybe that is just you.
And then, he asks a really weird question: “How do you like to be flirted with?”
You furrow your brow at the question, initially confused, but then you think about it. You look down as you think, then say the first thing that comes to mind when you’ve gone on really good dates. “Be interested in me and actually listen to what I’m telling you. Tell me about you, your past, your history, experiences that I might be able to relate to, about your family and friends, your aspirations…”
Castiel’s head tilts the other way as his blue eyes continue to watch you.
“Be accepting of me and my truths, my authenticity. I may have been born female, but I am very good at taking care of myself. I’m choosing to be here with you when I could be elsewhere. Be satisfied I’m here with you.”
“You are,” agrees Castiel. “And others. You care very deeply about your found family, as you call us.” He uses air quotes and slightly smiles. He leans forward, getting your eye to look into his. He is mere centimeters from your face. “I’m very happy you came out here with me tonight. It makes me very happy to spend time with you.”
“Thanks, Cas,” you give him a small smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. Your brow furrows again. “Cas, are you flirting with me?”
He looks down at his wrist. You follow his gaze and see that you’re still holding it, but resting on the table now. He gives a sheepish smile and nods looking at your hand.
Your heart races as adrenaline pumps through you at this disclosure. You take a deep breath and exhale. Then, you rotate and slide your hand into his. “Okay.”
He looks at you, confused. “What do you do when they realize they’re flirting back?” Worried, Cas’ blue eyes search your face.
You grin at him. “How bout we get outta here, just the two of us?”
It takes him a few extra seconds to connect the dots and nod. “Yes, okay.”
He scoots out of the booth and you follow him, keeping his hand in yours. You look around for the brothers who are sitting at the bar, chatting.
You both walk outside, looking up through the light pollution to see the moon and brilliant Venus close by.
“Where to?” He queries.
“Surprise me, Angel.”
He bends down and plucks a daffodil that has broken through the asphalt parking lot. Castiel hands it to you. “For you.”
You smile and take it, putting it behind your right ear.
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Michael: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?
Gabriel, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?
Y/N, whispering: Because I have little hands.
Gabriel: Because they have little hands.
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fanfictionalraven · 1 month
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Piece by Piece Masterlist (Complete)
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Summary: Nearly 11 years after a chance encounter, Dean and the reader are reunited. Dean is faced with a big surprise and an even bigger decision.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester (briefly), Bobby Singer, Castiel, various other SPN characters, original characters
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, canon typical violence and peril
Slightly Inspired by the Kelly Clarkson song of the same name. This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.
Piece by Piece Pt. 1
Piece by Piece Pt. 2
Piece by Piece Pt. 3
Piece by Piece Pt. 4
Piece by Piece Pt. 5
Piece by Piece Pt. 6
Piece by Piece Pt. 7
Piece by Piece Pt. 8
Piece by Piece Pt. 9
Piece by Piece Pt. 10
Piece by Piece Pt. 11
Piece by Piece Pt. 12
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