#my heart hurts for castiel every day

[hollybell51]

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?” 

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful. 

“(Y/N)?” 

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine. 

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?” 

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?” 

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added. 

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.” 

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.” 

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression. 

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly. 

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once. 

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink. 

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily. 

You smiled. “Lemonade.” 

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently. 

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter. 

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly. 

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.” 

Despite yourself, you laughed. 

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.” 

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.” 

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left. 

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them? 

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.” 

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you. 

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing. 

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing. 

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him. 

“It is.” 

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.” 

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.” 

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright” 

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking. 

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you. 

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.” 

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?” 

“No, we’ve got two singles.” 

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.” 

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.” 

“I know, but–” 

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.” 

“What’s that supposed to–” 

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.” 

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed. 

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.” 

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant. 

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you. 

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.” 

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched. 

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault. 

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab. 

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly. 

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.” 

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.” 

“Should I keep going?” 

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad. 

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead. 

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.” 

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.” 

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you. 

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?” 

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer. 

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).” 

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. 

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his. 

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade. 

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound. 

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright. 

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it. 

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.” 

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses. 

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing. 

He looked up, frowning. “What?” 

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.” 

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside. 

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive. 

You nodded. “Are you?”  

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters. 

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused. 

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips. 

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering. 

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.” 

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” 

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed. 

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.” 

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.” 

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away. 

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?” 

He nodded. 

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he murmured. 

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him? 

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him. 

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. 

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.” 

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?” 

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked. 

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.” 

He stared. “Do you want to?” 

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath… 

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?” 

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.” 

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you. 

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life. 

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?” 

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?” 

“Mhm.”  

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that. 

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful. 

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake. 

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.” 

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning. 

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before. 

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to. 

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that. 

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out. 

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…” 

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled. 

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.” 

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes. 

“Mhm?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

“Alright?” 

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.” 

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip. 

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat. 

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?” 

You smiled. “Magic word?” 

“Please,” he practically growled. 

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute. 

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.  

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.” 

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair. 

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.” 

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless. 

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.” 

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright. 

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face. 

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting. 

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?” 

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?” 

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.” 

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.” 

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning. 

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Mhm.” 

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body. 

“Mhm.” 

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most. 

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.” 

“I want you to feel–” 

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?” 

“But I’m–” 

“Cas.” 

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch. 

“Don’t worry,��� you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you. 

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.” 

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy. 

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit. 

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves. 

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked. 

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Yes, Cas, just like that.” 

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.” 

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly. 

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good? 

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully. 

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?” 

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing. 

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said. 

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you. 

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine. 

Cas froze immediately. 

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.” 

“Is this not–” 

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs. 

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small. 

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. 

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.” 

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.” 

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged. 

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable. 

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.” 

“I don’t want to squash you.” 

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.” 

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?” 

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out. 

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.” 

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed. 

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock. 

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours. 

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?” 

He swallowed, his eyes dark. 

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.” 

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide. 

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time. 

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?” 

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name. 

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.  

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that. 

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs. 

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!” 

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra. 

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer. 

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm. 

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment. 

“Hm?” 

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.” 

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be. 

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch. 

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat. 

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed. 

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?” 

After a moment, he nodded. 

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again. 

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.” 

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?” 

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty. 

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.” 

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.” 

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him. 

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much. 

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile. 

“Hello.” 

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.” 

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.” 

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully. 

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…” 

He waited, watching you stumble over your words. 

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.” 

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang. 

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen. 

“What do you want?” you growled. 

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?” 

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.” 

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?” 

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked. 

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden. 

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt. 

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.” 

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”  

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.” 

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question. 

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier. 

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point. 

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!” 

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. 

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing. 

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.” 

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam? 

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck. 

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.” 

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. 

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?” 

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything. 

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.” 

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.” 

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.” 

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared. 

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” 

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.” 

“No? Who else?” 

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now. 

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.  

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.” 

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all. 

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas. 

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.” 

“No, I mean–” 

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.” 

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?” 

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug. 

Cas frowned. “Told him what?” 

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!” 

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.” 

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?” 

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas. 

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.” 

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.” 

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?” 

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.” 

“Mhm, back at Stanford–” 

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.” 

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.” 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.” 

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly. 

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back. 

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.” 

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

#cas x reader #fem!reader #smut #supernatural #castiel #cas #castiel spn #castiel x reader #castiel x you #cas x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #spn #shameless smut #castiel smut #pwp fic #friends to lovers #only one bed #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

-

Part 2

#jensen ackles #spn #smut #dean winchester #supernatural #demon dean #demon dean x Reader #hurtful #rapekink #misogny #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

best friends to lovers destiel au fic recs list for @thetiredstuff :D

A Tale of Two Tropes by Amelia_Clark (E, 7k)

 “Am I going to regret this?” Cas asked from the passenger seat.

 They’d just pulled up outside Dean’s grandmother’s house, a tidy Craftsman bungalow painted a cheerful yellow. It didn’t look threatening; there was a porch swing with crocheted cushions and a cement statue of a goose on the porch. The goose was wearing a rain slicker and hat the same color as the house.

In this fic: fake dating, bed-sharing, the doting grandmother Dean Winchester never had, a cement goose with a wardrobe, a contemptuous cat, and a lot of sexual tension that's unresolved until it isn't.

As You Walk On By by MercyBraavos (E, 23k)

Dean and Castiel grew up together. Fell in love together. Lost their virginity together. Made plans for the future, their future, together. There’s only one problem:

Castiel doesn’t remember any of it.

Are We Any Different? by LeviathanBlue, SerpentCountess (T, 41k)

Cas adopts (steals) a cow.  Dean helps.

“Cas… There’s a… There’s a cow.  In my room.” “Yes, Dean.” “Why?” “Because.” "Right."

More Than Kisses by  FriendofCarlotta  (E, 29k)

1996: Dean joins his high school’s pen pal program as a last-ditch effort to keep from repeating the eleventh grade. But soon, the letters he trades with Castiel, a fellow high schooler from Chicago, become the most important constant of his life.

2005: Castiel has been in love with his pen pal Dean for years now. But he’s reluctant to upset the balance of their relationship, so when a new work opportunity takes him to Dean’s city, he keeps it a secret. Will these two ever find their way to each other?

things i knew when i was young by stormwarnings  (T, 16k)

Ok, so Castiel's in love with his best friend.

Which is what puts them here, in Dean’s car, eight hours into a nine and a half hour drive up north to bury Castiel’s mother on the grounds that he grew up on. Because it’s been eight years since Castiel cut ties with his family and left, supposedly for college, and there hasn’t been a word of communication since. Because Dean is, at his core, a good person and a better friend, and when he heard that Castiel’s mother had died and that he would need to return to his childhood home over Thanksgiving break, he knew enough to say he’d go with him.

This is, for sure, not helping Castiel get over his inappropriately persistent feelings.

(more under the cut)

Alright  by  turningthepages  (T, 46k)

Dean is a good kid living in a good town surrounded by good friends and good family. Castiel is the new kid in town and has never truly had a friend before.

Dean comes along and starts to change things for him.

To Build a Home by intothesilentland  (M, 383k)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection.

Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone.

God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

On the day of Jimmy Novak's funeral, Dean sees Cas for the first time in nine years. He adored Castiel the moment he met him, at only four years old. But after fourteen years of friendship destroyed by one moment of heartbreak, and after nine years of silence, Dean is convinced Cas will want nothing to do with him. And it's killing him.

When In Vegas  by  Dmsilvis, TobytheWise (E, 16k)

Dean has figured out the most perfect prank. The prank to top every other prank. Ever. Getting his best friend drunk and then convincing him they’d gotten married in their drunken stupor was easy. Dealing with Castiel telling him he’s been in love with Dean for years? Well, that’s a different thing entirely.

Castiel wakes up married to the love of his life who he’s been secretly pining over for years. Now he just has to convince Dean that he’ll be the best husband ever, making sure Dean will never regret the decision he made that night.

Things take a terrible turn when Castiel finds out everything was a lie in the name of a prank just as Dean realizes how much he truly loves Castiel back. Will they be able to overcome this misunderstanding or was their relationship doomed before it even started?

The Ocean Between Us  by  noxsoulmate  (E, 27k)

Living a hermit life, Dean Winchester didn’t need much. The only things important to him were his position in the business that was once owned by his family, his boat, and his friendship with Castiel, Charlie, and Gabriel. If only there wasn’t a whole ocean between them, then maybe he could even give his feelings for Castiel a chance …

Room for Two (The Mattress AU) by  almaasi  (E, 14k)

✔ College roommates ✔ Buying a mattress together ✔ Faking a relationship to get a discount ✔ Sharing a bed ✔ Roleplaying as a couple to "test the bed" ✔ Fake kissing becomes real kissing ✔ Fake sex is Way Too Real ✔ Cuddling ✔ Wet dreams ✔ "Oh no I thought I was dreaming but it was real life" ✔ Matchmakers Sam & Charlie ✔ Cas seems kinda clueless but actually understands everything ✔ Mutual respect, support, and understanding ✔ Friends to lovers ✔ Mutual pining ✔ Go౦ԁ sHit        

Honey-Baked  by  mishaminion69, sydkn3e (E,  89k)

There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it...Cas is a weird, tactless, ornery guy. His idea of a job is selling weed out of their shared cabin, his idea of fun is occasional orgies, and he has more creepy dolls and crystals than anyone of their age ever should.

But he's also Dean's childhood best friend, and now he's the star of all Dean's wildest fantasies.

Then there's the whole "being in love with him" thing.

The Ones We Choose  by  lightmyway  (E, 82k)

After telling his family he’s gay, Castiel winds up homeless.   With the help of his best friend, Cas finds himself a home and a new family.  He also finds himself in love with his best friend.  A love that endures no matter the circumstances of their lives, even in the wake of Dean’s rejection.

Despite knowing how Cas feels, Dean clings to his best friend through the years.  In high school and college.  As roommates.  Through Cas becoming a firefighter and his own journey to become a business owner.  With shared time and space, Dean begins to see Cas in a new light.  His attraction grows, along with his feelings.

Letting those feelings spill out one night, Dean changes the trajectory of their lives.  As their relationship grows, they are confronted by Cas’s past and must relive a painful and damaging event in Dean’s life.  But it is the life-changing fire, which is their greatest challenge, making them face their deepest fears and test the strength of their love.

#spn #spn fanfic #destiel

[samsgff]

*Using the events of s5 with a little bit of alternations*

⚠️ tw for suicide nd alcoholism ⚠️

Once Sam jumped into the hole dean felt like he was stabbed right through the heart.

Days, weeks, months had gone by and Dean was still grieving. See everyone has their own way of grieving Dean's way was to rot at Bobby's house, he did not move an inch from his bed, he let himself drown completely in his sorrow. Bobby tried his best to convince him to go on hunting trips with him and constantly told him it'll help, but dean's only reply was "I'm done".

Day after day, the bottles of boose kept increasing, but drinking was his only escape. It was his way to numb the pain, it was his way to fill in the void inside of him that kept growing ever since the incident. It was his way to be at peace, it allowed him to sleep without rewatching his brother jump to his death. However some coping mechanisms lose their purpose at some point. The alcohol was not doing it for the now only child winchester, even so he tried to keep on going but what was left for him to hang on to if the only person he ever cared for was gone? And so one night, when Bobby was out, Dean went looking for some pills and since he knew Bobby more than his own father he knew exactly where he kept them so it didn't take much time for him to find those colorful tablets. He wrote a farewell letter to his adoptive father his one and only father, thanking him for taking him and his younger brother under his wing and apologized for being such a pain in the ass for the past few years. Dean knew the right dose, he always has. As he swallowed those pills down with whiskey he could feel the inside of his stomach already lightning up in flames, but he didn't care, he wanted it to end, he wanted to be where he belonged, in hell, next to his sammy.

Few minutes later, everything went silent, his body was completely numb, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The old man arrived at his house, he opened the door, it was quiet way too quiet. He placed his keys on the coffee table and called out: "Dean?" his eyes caught the letter, he opened it with shaky hands, that can't be, Dean wouldn't do that he tried gaslighting himself. He dropped the letter and ran as fast he could breaking down the door and holding Dean's unconscious body between his arms. "No Dean wake up" He yelled. "Wake up now boy" he yelled again as his eyes filled up with tears. "Dean don't do that to me" he mumbled while holding his body closer to him. "Castiel!!" he screamed. "Get down here cas now!" he screamed again hoping the angel would answer his prayers. And he did. "what happened?" he asked confused. "Fix him now or i swear" Bobby threatened. Cas placed his hand over Dean's forehead and it only took a few seconds before he opened his eyes again.

He adjusted himself, looked at his hands all confused.

"No no noo" he screamed in anger.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?" he looked at the angel and his adoptive father with eyes full of tears.

"i was ready to go i was ready to die" he yelled.

"Well too bad because i wasn't" Bobby snapped

"the only person who brought a purpose to my life is gone. The only person i ever loved and cared for and looked after is gone. And there's a hole inside of that just keeps on growing and growing everyday and it- it hurts it hurts so much i thought- i thought i could numb the pain but it's crushing me it's sucking the life out of me i can't i just can't" he cried out.

Bobby and Cas stood above him, with sadness and despair in their eyes.

"i think i could help" Cas mumbled

Dean looked up to him with the tiniest bit of hope.

"i could erase every memory you ever had with sam it would be like he was never your brother- like he never existed" he continued while avoiding eye contact.

"no i can't allow that" bobby added

"this is my decision bobby" dean replied firmly.

"do it cas" he said as he stood up and faced him.

"but this is going to hurt" castiel warned him before proceeding.

"i said do it" he repeated.

The angel placed the palm of his hand over the hunters forehead and channeled every power he had, it didn't take long before dean fell to his knees screaming as all of the memories with his younger brother flashed before his eyes. Bobby looked away since he couldn't handle seeing his son in that condition.

Once it was over dean fell to the ground unconscious.

"his body is going to need a little of time to readjust" cas told Bobby in a reassuring tone.

"i hope you realize the consequences of what you just did" the adoptive father added before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

#jensen ackles #spn #jared padalecki #sam winchester #sam and dean #dean winchester #castiel #spn season 5 #my fic #demons #lucifer spn #samifer #bobby singer #alternate universe

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 14 - A Battle of Fates

When Sam, Dean, and Cas track down Y/N and Lucifer, there is an all-out battle that results in Y/N having to make the ultimate decision. Will she accept her fate and choose Lucifer? Or will she create her own destiny and choose Dean?

(4.4k)

The days with Lucifer fly by. Counting the cycles from day to night, I believe I've been here for about 3 weeks, but it feels like I've spent my whole life with him. Each day holds another exciting adventure that’s designed to keep me happy and busy. He’s created amusement parks, animal sanctuaries, extravagant balls, and fancy dinners, even taking me to my favorite plays and movies, all created out of thin air with the snap of his fingers. 

It’s been incredible. Truly something out of a fairytale. But everywhere we go, it’s just him and me, Lucifer and I, the rest of the world be damned. I’m not dumb, I know he’s doing this to keep me isolated and safe from anyone that may want to steal me away. 

“I have a lot of enemies.” He grabs my shoulders and looks at me in full seriousness. “Many powerful people that will use you to get to me. But I promise you this, I will never let anyone hurt you. Not now. Not ever,” he explains, confirming my suspicions. 

I have no doubt that’s true. What better way to hurt the Devil than threatening the one thing in this world he loves, his Achilles heel, and God help anyone that dares come between us. But, I suspect he has ulterior motives as well, primarily keeping me from the Winchesters and their pocket angel. I can tell that he’s on edge, always glancing at the door, obsessively checking that each sigil is still intact, just waiting for them to burst in guns blazing.

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The house is secure, located in the middle of nowhere, and sigiled to high Hell. He’s careful. No one knows where we are, not even me. The odds of them ever finding this place are slim to nothing, that is if they’re even looking for me at all. The thought crushes me, feeling as if a little part of me has curled up and died.

I wonder where they are, what they’re doing, which monster they are hunting down this week, but most of all, if they miss me. I know it’s selfish of me to think that way. I put them through Hell, especially Cas, and they’re better off far, far, away from me. 

Nevertheless, I've been practicing the demon exorcism Sam had taught me. I’ve got it down to a T, memorized every word and perfected each pronunciation. I'm ready for any demons that may cross my path. I can just picture the cheery smile on Sam’s face and the way he would squeeze my shoulder to show how proud of me he is.

I’ve even picked up my lessons in Enochian. I doubt Castiel would approve of my methods, but Lucifer has continued where he left off. He was surprised when I asked him, but happy to teach me the basic alphabet and meaning of the simple symbols. I’m still a novice, barely even able to decipher the simplest of writing, but I’m getting better by the day. I dream of seeing Castiel again one day and greeting him in Enochian. The surprised look on his face would be priceless and his kind smile would warm my heart.

Despite the wonderful time I’ve spent with Lucifer, how close we’ve grown, how much I truly adore him now, I miss my family… I miss Dean. The ghost of him lives in my mind. I keep expecting to wake up in the Bunker and see him in the kitchen drinking a beer and going to town on a tower of bacon. I miss his musky cologne and comfy flannels that are way too big for me but feel so right. I miss the way he would hold me at night and whisper that everything will be okay. My heart yearns for him, more than I thought possible. After the way things ended, the big fight that resulted in him storming out, the rage that burned in his eyes, I doubt that he would ever want to see me again. 

“It’s for the best,” I keep reminding myself, trying to quell the feelings that seem to grow stronger with each moment that passes.

Lucifer knows. Despite how hard I try to hide my pain, he’s not oblivious, and the deep connection that we share sure doesn’t help.

“Y/N?” Lucifer asks, hugging me from behind, pulling me to his chest and resting his head on my shoulder like he often does.

“Yes, Luce?” I lean back into his chest.

“Somethings bothering you,” he states matter-of-factly, “talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” I attempt to ease his suspicion, but it comes out less than convincing.

Uneasy silence hangs in the air as he thinks of what to say.

“Dean could never love you like this, you know.” He gently brushes my hair away from my neck and places a series of soft kisses from my jaw to my shoulder.

I freeze, turning rigid as a board. Hearing those words come from his mouth, it feels like the wind is knocked out of me. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about Luce,” I laugh nervously, trying to brush off his suspicion. 

“Yes, you do.”

A sinking feeling drops in my stomach, and I close my eyes, preparing myself for where this dangerous conversation may lead. As much as I adore Lucifer, he is anything but predictable.

“A little birdy told me what you and Dean have been up to.” He grits his teeth, trying to control his temper.

“A little birdy being you spying on me?” I bite back defensively.

“Besides the point.” He pulls me in even tighter, perhaps scared that I'll flee at any moment. “I know that you have feelings for that insolent human… I know that you miss him,” he says bitterly, face scrunching up in disdain. “Do you really think he misses you?” He snaps, knowing that it will cut deep.

“Luce…” I whisper, my voice trembling. It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a million times before, a thought I can’t seem to shake.

“Y/N,” he spins me around to face him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes comb over my face like he’s admiring a work of art.

“I’m going to show what it truly means to feel love.” He takes a deep breath. “I promise you that in due time, these feelings you have for that�� Winchester,” he says in disgust, “will be a thing of the past. The only person you will crave is me.” He pulls me into a deep and passionate kiss. It’s not angry and possessive like I expected, but rather tender and loving.

I pull away, my lips puffy and cheeks flushed.

“He will never touch you again, do you understand?” He growls, his eyes flash a bright crimson red for a moment, before returning to their usual state. He wraps his magnificent wings around me in a protective manner, the silky feather brushing against my bare arms.

“Yes Luce.” I nod and rest my head against his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat brings me a sense of peace and safety. Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to forget the feelings I have for Dean Winchester and spend the rest of eternity with the angel fate has decided I’m meant to be with. But the other part of me wants to say, “Fuck fate,” and run into his arms, reuniting with the man I hold so dear. A storm of conflict brews ever stronger inside of me.

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“I want you to focus, I mean really focus,” Lucifer says, encouraging me.

I hold my hand out in front me, just a few feet away from the fireplace. I can feel the heat licking my palm. I screw my eyes shut and pour all my mental force into the flame that flickers weakly from the charred-up logs. My brows furrow and a bead of sweat runs down my face. I give it my all, but still, nothing comes.

“Ugh! This is useless!” I groan, dropping my hand down by my side in defeat. “Maybe I just don’t have grace abilities like you.” My mood fades from frustration into sadness, wings wilting pathetically.

“You think Rome was built in one day?” He replies sarcastically. “I’ve had millennia to perfect my grace, you just need some more practice.”

I shoot him a dirty look, but eventually nod my head in understanding.

“Now,” he clears his throat and steps closer until his chest is pressed against my back, the tingly feeling returning. “Spread your feet apart.” He kicks my shoes with his boot until they’re about a foot apart in distance, giving me better balance. “Hold your hand out. Stiffen your arm.” He lifts my arm into place, intertwining his fingers in mine and holding my palm forward.

The feeling is comforting, his large hands seem to fit perfectly with mine, the familiar electric feeling pulsing between us.

“Close your eyes,” he calmly instructs.

My eyes flutter closed, this time letting them relax instead of scrunching them up in frustration.

“Take a deep breath and imagine the fire growing clearly in your mind.” He rests his head on my shoulder, grounding me just enough to provide reassurance.

I take a deep breath in through my nose, and out through my mouth, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I picture the fire burning hot and growing several feet tall, the image in my mind so realistic that it feels like It’s really happening.

There’s a warm tingling sensation that builds in my stomach, growing ever so slightly. My hand shakes as a cold feeling wraps around my core. It’s Lucifer’s grace, a sensation I've grown quite accustomed to. My warm grace tangles with his, dancing in harmony. My grace is much smaller, more submissive to his. His grace is heavier and far more overpowering, like a cold ocean wave that makes my ears ring and blood hum.

“You feel that?” He whispers in my ear, the feeling of our graces merging together pleasantly surges through my body.

“...Yes.” I nod, holding back the groan that threatens to spill from my lips.

“Use it.” He kisses my neck, leaving a playful nip. “I know you can do it.”

His encouragement lights a fire in my stomach, and with renewed determination, I put my full focus into the task at hand.

 The fire roars to life, burning to the top of the fireplace. The flames dance up to the chimney, the smell of crackling wood and thick smoke fills the room. A feeling of power surges through my veins, the rush has me instantly hooked, surely an addiction in the making.

“I did it…” I mutter to myself in shock. “LUCE, I DID IT!” I turn around to face him and my wings flutter in excitement, a happy grin on my face.

“I knew you could, my beloved!” He picks me up with ease and spins me around like I weigh nothing to him. His wings twirl around us, magnificent feathers flowing in the breeze. “I never doubted you for a second.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and stares at me lovingly. “I’m so proud of you.” He places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Mm…” I hum in content, happy that Lucifer, of all people, is proud of me. I melt into the kiss, the rest of the world fading into oblivion. I could stay here forever.

The soft clicks of a lock being picked is covered by the fire that still roars strong behind us and the blood rushing in my ears.

The door bursts open with a loud bang, the splintered wood hanging off the hinges. Light from outside pours into the dimly lit room, illuminating the three figures, their shadows stretching across the floor.

Surprised, I whip my head around to see Dean standing his ground across the room, Sam and Castiel looming behind him, all of them armed with angel blades.

“LET HER GO YOU WINGED BASTARD!” the familiar sound of Dean’s voice booms.  Dean looks pissed, more than I ever could have imagined. This must be what monsters see in their final moments, truthfully, it scares me. His knuckles are white from gripping the blade so hard, ready to spring into action.

“Well, look who’s come to party,” Lucifer teases, holding me closer, surely leaving red marks where his fingers dig into the skin of my arms.

“Dean!” I call out. I never thought I'd see him again and my heart flutters at the sight. They came for me. They actually came for me…

Without giving it a second thought, I break free of Lucifer's grasp and make a beeline towards the Winchesters and their beloved angel, awaiting the feeling of being in their arms once again.

Before I even make it halfway across the room, Lucifer appears in front of me. I bump into his chest, stumbling back onto the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He shakes his head, giving me a disapproving look and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I'm just a child. 

“PUT!... ME!... DOWN!” I demand, pounding my fists against his back. When this has absolutely no effect on him, I run my hands into his feathers and twist, remembering the reactions it elicited from him before. He growls, but refuses to let me down, his grips only growing tighter on me.

“Put the girl down, brother,” Castiel warns, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Castiel, pleasure to see you again, come back for seconds?” He taunts him with a grin.

Dean takes a step forward, practically fuming.

“Stay!” Lucifer commands me, placing me on the ground behind him. He splays his wings out protectively in front of me, as if I'm the one at risk.

The tension in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife.

The sound of every window breaking around us, practically makes me jump out of my skin. Shards of glass fly in all directions, one piece just barely missing my face by half an inch. The sky that had been clear just moments ago, is now raining like we’re in the eye of a category five hurricane. Booming claps of thunder fill the room, followed by strikes of lightning that illuminate Lucifer’s wings in the most intimidating way. 

Snapping out of my shocked daze, I completely disregard his command and try to run forward but find that his grace is holding me in place, essentially super gluing my shoes to the floor.

For just a moment, the three boys give each other a knowing look before they all swing into action.

Dean lunges forward, swinging the blade with full force. He aims for Lucifer’s head, but he flawlessly dodges the attack, his eyes flashing red in anger. But this doesn’t deter him, Dean’s unrelenting, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.

Sam keeps himself fixed to the closest wall across the room. He drags the blade across his hand, creating a deep gash in his palm. Blood drips to the floor in abundance, creating a crimson puddle. He dips his finger in the liquid and quickly begins to draw a symbol on the wall with haste. I’ve studied enough to recognize that it’s an Enochian symbol, but I can’t decipher what it means.

Castiel stands a few feet behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concentration. He extends his arm towards Lucifer and his eyes glow a light blue. He chants quietly under his breath, his voice low and steady.

Dean continues his attack on Lucifer. With one precise swing, he slices Lucifer across the face. A cut on his cheekbone forms, blood dribbling from his cheek to his chin. Dean flashes him a cocky smile.

I struggle against his hold with all my strength, desperately trying to pry my shoes from the hardwood floor, but it's ultimately useless. I have no choice but to stand by in horror, watching the scene unfold in front of me with no way to stop it. The only thing worse than being in love with two men, is watching them kill each other right in front of your eyes.

Lucifer reaches up to his cheek, tenderly touching the wound that instantly heals shut with a white shine. He lowers his hand, looking at the blood that coats his fingers in anger.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he growls, lunging at Dean.

“I don't think so brother,” Castiel states, his eyes glowing a bright blue. With the power of his grace, he stops Lucifer in his tracks, forcing him on his knees and keeping him stuck in place.

Dean tilts his head, giving him a look that says, “I win.”

“Hurry Dean, I can’t hold him much longer,” Castiel groans, his body straining to fight off Lucifer’s powerful resistance.

Without a second of hesitation, Dean plunges the blade into Lucifer, his body visibly shaking with adrenaline.

“NO!” I scream out, my wings frilled in panic. With the attack, Lucifer's grip on me breaks and I rush to his side in an instant. I kneel next to him on the ground, lifting his limp head in my hands, his eyes closed and blood dripping from the wound where the angel blade remains buried deep in his flesh. I can feel the hot tears pricking my eyes.

Silence hangs in the air. Dean, Sam, and Cas anxiously waiting to see if they’re plan had really worked. After a few moments pass, they give each other a look of relief and collect themselves.

Their relief is short lived, as he opens his eyes and breaks out of Cas’s hold, more pissed than ever.

“You missed.” He smiles and pulls the blade out from the right side of his chest, dropping it to the ground with a clank, blood splattering the wood. Within seconds the wound is healed shut with a white glow. He stands from his knees and spreads his wings, towering far above the rest of us. “You should really aim for the heart next time.” He grins wide like a Cheshire cat.

All three boys exchange a look that practically screams, “Oh shit.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lucifer throws the three of them against the wall, pinning them in place. They struggle with all their might, but their efforts are essentially useless against his powerful grace. In a fight, archangel always wins.

“Sit, stay awhile.” he teases.

“Lucifer, no,” I beg, just wanting this nightmare to be over.

He wraps his arm around my waist but pays me no mind. He twists his hand into a fist and at once, both of the brothers’ writhe in pain, their body contorting in unnatural angles. 

Dean and Sam groan, their faces twisting up in agony. As if it couldn’t get worse, they start to spit up blood. And not just a little, but a disturbing amount of blood pouring through their lips, staining their skin and clothes a blooming red. The sound of groans and coughing makes me sick to my stomach.

“Lucifer, stop!” I yell in horror. I bunch my hands up in his shirt, desperately trying to snap him out of his fit of rage. I’ve never seen him like this before, but I start to question if those stories about him are actually as true as they say.

“No!” Castiel yells in his gravelly voice, staring at the beloved Winchester brothers squirming next to him.

“Wait your turn, brother.” Lucifer snaps his head in his direction and shifts his hand towards Castiel. A white glow slowly burns inside Cas. It starts low in his chest but builds until the white light shines through his throat and eyes with a deafening ring that continues to grow.

“You really think she loves you? I mean, you?” Lucifer mocks, staring Dean down intently.

Dean tries to speak, but his words are undecipherable through the spluttering blood and groans.

“STOP!!” I pound my fists against Lucifer’s chest so hard that it would surely leave painful bruises on any normal human. But he’s not human, no, he’s the farthest thing from it, an archangel in a savage rage.

He continues his assault, the boy’s looking as if they’re on the brink of death, perhaps they are.

“You promised…” my voice breaks.

This pulls him out of his trance. He stops his brutal attack and turns to me, looking guilty and the slightest bit pained.

“You’re right,” he admits, getting his temper under control. He takes my hand in his and brings them to rest on his cheek, evening out his breath.

The Winchesters gawk at him, as if they can’t believe what they’re seeing. They cough and choke, but the waterfall of blood stops and Castiel ceases the blinding glow.

“You’re scaring me, Luce.” I step closer, my eyes wet with tears.

“Forgive me, love.” he looks at me with loving eyes, the man I love coming back to me, even if it’s just for a moment. He pulls me into a kiss. It’s soft at first, caring and apologetic, but it soon turns deep and possessive. He wraps his wings around me and looks over to Dean, holding eye contact, needing to see his jealous reaction.

“Leave her alone,” he demands in a hoarse voice, his face burning with anger.

I break the kiss with a light shove and look at him, my cheeks burning in shame. I can practically hear his heart breaking into a thousand shards.

“Or what?” Lucifer snaps, “What did you think was going to happen, hm? You’d just storm in here, kill me, and she’d come running back to you like some lovesick puppy?”

Dean musters up the strength to shoot him a look that could kill, but I could see Lucifer’s words were gutting him inside.

“Newsflash kid, Y/N’s my soulmate. We’re meant to be together, it’s our destiny,” he says, pulling me so close that my wings are pressed flat against his chest, wrapping an arm around me to secure my body in place.

Dean’s face becomes somber as he processes the information. I can see the internal debate going on inside of his head, one that I’ve had many times before. 

“Is that true, Y/N?” Sam asks hesitantly.

Cas gives Sam a knowing look.

“Yeah, tell them Y/N.” Lucifer takes my chin between his fingers and forces me to look them in the eyes, unable to escape their awaiting glares, “Is it true?” He mocks.

“...Yes,” I admit, barely a whisper.

Dean’s eyes go wide, tears threatening to spill at any moment. His green irises flick back and forth, desperately scanning my face for any sign that I might be lying, that this is all some part of a masterplan to deceive Lucifer, but finds none.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracks and I close my eyes in shame, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can feel Lucifer smirking behind me, clearly amused with this turn of events.

The room is quiet for a moment before something in Dean changes. His eyes harden and he lifts his head with a wave of confidence. “Yeah? Well, I say screw destiny. You can shove it up your feathery ass!” He spits in defiance.

“Give it up Dean.” Lucifer rolls his eyes dramatically, “She’s my mate, you can't have her!” He growls, his wings spreading to their full wingspan.

“Lucifer… that’s enough!” I warn, grabbing him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention, but he keeps his eyes glued on Dean.

“No, she’s not! She’s one of us now, she’s a Winchester!” He snaps back.

Hearing those words makes my heart flutter but it sends Lucifer over the edge. His eyes glow a red so bright that I’m sure the color will be burned in the back of my retina for days to come. He balls his hand into a fist and twists it sharply. 

Dean screams as the unmistakable sound of his rib bones crunching and breaking under the angel's grace bounces off the walls, followed by a series of pained whimpers, drowned out by Sam and Cas’s protests. 

“I SAID, ENOUGH!” my voice echoes around the room. With a sudden surge of grace, Lucifer is shoved halfway across the room. Dean, Sam, and Cas are released from his hold, falling to the floor. The storm stops and all is quiet for just a moment.

Dean clutches at his ribs and attempts to stand, but collapses onto the ground in immense pain. Sam and Cas rush to his side and help him to his feet, throwing his arms around each of their shoulders to help him stand. The three of them look at me in shock, Dean seemingly more amazed than the others.

Lucifer, on the other hand, is beaming, clearly impressed with my sudden surge in power. “Look at y-” Lucifer starts with a cocky smile.

“Shut up!” I interrupt him, shooting him a warning look.

“I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m some prize to be won!” I yell, angrily looking between the two of them, disgusted with the little show they put on tonight. I try to catch my breath as I collect my thoughts.

“I’m my own person, and I decide my destiny! Not you,” I turn to look at Luce, images of our amazing dates together play like a movie in my mind, how he makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, the only thing that matters to him, and the powerful connection pulling us together like magnets. I can just imagine spending eternity with him, exploring where my powers could take me, seeing how deep our connection goes, and what the next millennia together has in store for us.

“Not you,” I look at Dean. Memories of my nights with him flood back, the way he was always there when I needed him, the way he makes my heart flutter every time I look at him, the way I crave him in every sense of the word. It’s no use denying the feelings I have for Dean, and what I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my days with him, watching him grow old and showing him what it really means to be loved.

“And definitely not fate.” I raise my head high and frill my wings out to their full extent, refusing to hold myself back any longer.

“It’s my choice, and I choose…”

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Tags: @roseblue373 @iprobablyshipit91

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #lucifer supernatural #lucifer x reader supernatural #lucifer #lucifer x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #reader inse #supernatural #slow burn #love triangle

[cheynovak]

Forest Green Eyes - PART 4 

Castiel & Y/N Winchester  

Warnings:  SMUT – 16+ …  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words:  1794

This story takes place after the SPN finally. Jack asked Castiel to go back to earth to be the guardian angel of Y/N. Cas accepts this task but only to discover that Y/N is the biological child of Dean.  

 

Part 5 Now online

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And like a magnet your face turned towards him. Looking in each other eyes once more grinning. 

All you could think of was kissing those angelic lips again. But that was the beers you had earlier talking right...  Right? 

--

The drive home was quiet. The windows were down, and the hot summer breeze landed on her skin. Y/N and Cas had just offered to drop Tom and Anna of at their home since they were clearly not able to drive anymore. The entire ride Anna kept looking at these pictures. “You guys are ok with me posting them on insta?” When they were home save, it was just the two of you.  

Castiel started to think about the kiss. He wanted to talk but didn’t know where to begin.  

"Music?” Y/N asked leading Castiel out of his thoughts?  

 

* Eric Clapton – Wonderful tonight started playing*  

Both Y/N and Castiel sat there listening to the words. Y/N didn’t want to make anything more awkward by changing the channel. Would be too obvious she thought. She looked over at Cas, he clearly had no problem with the music.  

Little did she know that the angel did his best not to look at her, afraid to give his feelings away and make her uncomfortable.  

Once home Y/N removed her jacket and walked towards the kitchen. “You want something?” 

He didn’t answer but followed her, trying to find to courage to talk about what happened.  “Y/N... We need to talk.”  

“Yeah, what’s up?” Trying to sound normal, not looking at him. Afraid of what he would say.  

“About tonight, you know, the eh ... kiss.” He asked with his heart beating out of his chest.  

A moment passed as she tried to find an answer. I can’t tell him what I felt tonight, it is so wrong! He probably still sees me as some little kid.  

“Oh that. Well, that was a means to an end. I thought you wouldn’t mind. The guy clearly got the message without breaking bottles or bones.” She said slowly turning to Castiel. 

 

Castiel’s heart dropped, it felt like the world came down on him. Y/N noticed the way he started to walk backwards looking at the ground. “Cas?”  

He cleared his voice “Yes, well, that was what I thought.” He said with a smile like he had a toothache. “I, eh, I,  I'm going to my room. It was a long day. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Y/N let out a sigh, oh god what did I do. If someone deserves an honest answer it is Castiel.  

And he looked so hurt by my answer. He even went to his room. The man didn’t need sleep, so it had been weeks maybe months that he stayed the night in there. He usually would read a book in the main rooms, watched a movie or prepared food for Y/N. He even reorganized the entire archives from the man of letters.  

Castiel is laying down on his bed. Listening to some music he borrowed from Y/N. Trying his best to reset his feelings. Back to normal Castiel, you are here for a purpose, a job. Even though he still had no idea why or what he was supposed to do.  

Looking after a kid was easy, a teen more challenging but he managed. Y/N is a woman now, who’ve read every book in this archive, who knows every story. A woman who is incredibly smart and kind, a little stubborn and grumpy, maybe even a little temperamental. Who acts first and thinks later.  

And oh, so beautiful, her full lips, high cheekbones, dark blond/light brown hair, and her big green eyes... And taller than the average women he met.  

But he was sure there were more people like that.  

There can only be one reason that Jack was so interested in this kid. She had to be family in his eyes.  

He heard a soft knock on the door. “Cas? Are you ok?” 

 The angel opened the door slightly, just enough so he could stand in the doorway.  

Y/N stood closer to the door than he expected. She was already in her sleeping shirt and underwear.  “Hi.” She said while her lip curled slightly, clearly not knowing how to react. “Hey” He answered while letting out a breath.  

- “Cas, I’m sorry.” 

“What?” 

- “I couldn’t sleep and kept thinking it isn’t fair to lie to you, to lie to myself.”  

Is she saying what I think she is? “What?” he repeated.  

Y/N looked at the floor. ”I think, I love you Castiel.”  

Castiel lifted a hand under her chin.” Look at me Y/N... Please.” So she did.  

 

The second Y/N’s eyes locked in those ocean blue eyes she felt her whole body move forward.  

Castiel placed his hands on her face accepting her, accepting her kiss, pulling her in. This kiss was long and passioned. Y/N’s hands caressing his shoulder and torso. Castiel walked back leading Y/N into the room. Y/N started to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt while her lips moved from his lips towards his neck without losing their touch.  

 

Castiel moved his hand from her face down, over her arms, stroking the side of her breast. Y/N felt a shiver down her spine that made her moan a little under her breath.  

As she pushes his shirt of his shoulders, he grabbed her wrists and pulls back so he can look at her.  “Y/N wait... Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to or regret when you’re sober.”  

“Castiel, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I want all of you.” She said while softly kissing his neck going over his chest moving down.  

“I want you.” Softly scratching his nipple with her teeth. 

“ The question is.” Kissing his hips. 

“Do you want me Cas?” Licking a stripe between his navel and pants. 

Castiel closed his eyes “Yes, you have no idea.” The second Y/N undid his belt, the angel felt a fire in his gut. He lifted Y/N up without a warning and pushing her against the wall. Y/N’s legs are around his waist. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him by the bump growing in his paints and the moans he let out while his lips were all over you.  

He dropped her for a second just to remove Y/N’s shirt and look at her bare breast. His eyes were darkened with lust.  

Y/N pushed Cas to the end of the bed, he gracefully sat down while she sat down on his lap facing him. Even though he seemed self-assured his eyes looked for permission every step of the way. 

He took her left breast in one hand while he takes her right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking.  

This movement made her moan his name while she desperately grinds her hips on him for more friction.  He loved how she moaned his name, this made the fire in him burn brighter. Made him want to satisfy her more and more.  

Castiel turned around, taking Y/N with him so that she is now laying on her back in bed. Slowly crawling up to the pillow. But Castiel didn’t follow, he had other plans. He licked and kissed her ankles than her legs, thighs, hips. Y/N’s head falls back when he took her panties of slowly started to caress her clit. “Please Cas, I need you.”  

“What do you need?” He asked with a husky voice. Y/N sat up “You, inside me.” She said while stroking his now very hard and visible dick. “I don’t want to wait Cas. Please”  

Castiel took off his pants and underwear. As he hovered over Y/N he asked, “Are you sure, I though humans wanted, more foreplay.”  

“Next time” She sight. “Castiel I’m burning up. I need to feel all of you.”  

He moved his dick against her, coating it with her juice before slowly entering her. “So wet, so tight.” He moaned.  

Y/N felt her hole stretched inch by inch. The angel watched Y/N’s expression and waited a little before he started to slowly move his hips. “More...” She moaned. Castiel frowned not entirely understanding what she needed. “I’m not going to break Cas, don’t hold back. Fuck me harder.” 

 Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper, while Castiel placed his arms next to her head and started to hard yet passionately thrust. He could feel her squeeze when he hit a specific spot inside her. “Oh, YES Castiel, right there!”  

Y/N felt every inch of Castiel, he was so big that every trust hit that one spot inside that made her scream and moan like a mad woman. She quickly noticed that Castiel loved the way she reacts, so she didn’t hold back. While he started to move faster and harder, she started to feel the heat boiling inside her. It wouldn’t take long before she would snap. “Don’t stop, please Cas, don’t stop, I'm so close!” Just a couple more thrusts and Castiel could feel Y/N wrapping tighter around him, it made him groan. “I can feel it Y/N, come for me.” His trust started to get sloppy, the way he felt you squeezing made him fight not to come before you. “Let me make you feel good.” Groaned out of breath.  

Those last words pushed Y/N over the edge. Castiel managed to hold back just enough to look at you. “Where do you want me...” He was so close he couldn't finish that question. “I said I want ALL off you Cas.” Not 5 seconds later Castiel came inside her. After he came down from his high, he kissed her lips. “Wait here.” Before she could say anything, he was gone and returned with a washcloth. “Hm, great sex and aftercare.” Y/N joked.  

“Well, I asked you to let me take care of you.” He grinned. 

Castiel pulled the cover over them while Y/N snuggled by his side. “This is going to change things, isn’t it?” He asked. “Well, I hope so, more of this. More of... Us” She answered drawing circles on his chest.  

“Us, sounds good.” He said. Minutes later Y/N felt asleep while Castiel kept listening to the music that was still playing in the background.   

---

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

#fanfic #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #dean winchester #fluff #supernatural #spn #spnedit #smut #spn smut #castiel smut

[luna-writes-stuff]

Day 21: The Lakes, Castiel

Song link

Fanfic, fem!reader

Comfort, slight fluff

Word count: 2383

Tw: “Cas comforts you” this, “Cas comforts you” that. No; you comfort Cas. Use of Y/N (I am so sorry, you taught me better), S12 Castiel, mentions of self-doubt, physical affection. Angeleyes has been stuck in a loop in my head for years now, it’s a bop, I won’t defend myself.

Summary: When on a hunt alone, Cas pays you a visit. But unlike most times, he seems unsure of himself. Even angels need reassurance and comfort from time to time.

“Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me? I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones These hunters with cell phones.”

“Call me when you drive into Kansas.”

“I will, Dean. Don’t worry.” You mused into the phone, shaking off his ever-present worried state. You had been working with the Winchesters for years now, and as the days grew longer, your relations only strengthened, and now neither of the boys was willing to let you go on an own hunt without checking in every single day.

You had just finished a week long hunt for a Wendigo nearby, and you were exhausted beyond words. But you knew you’d get Dean on your ass the second you refused to pick up the phone.

So, there you sat, on a creaky motel chair, a now cold cup of tea in front of you. The sun should be rising within the next few hours, but you had yet to fall asleep. Hell, you just returned to the motel.

Now lost in thought, that sleep did sound very good.

“Hey, Dean,” you remarked, hearing his silence over the phone.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“I’m ready to drop. I could use some good night rest.”

“You do that. Let me know when you leave tomorrow.”

Humming into the phone, you affirmed his request. “Will do, Winchester. I’ll see you soon.”

“‘Night, Y/N.”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

Placing your phone down on the table, you exhaled loudly, stretching your arms as you winced under the movement. You had gotten off the hunt relatively easy, but not without a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing time wouldn’t mend. But the burn wound on your biceps had begun to sting.

Standing up from the chair, you absentmindedly wandered to the bathroom, ready to grab the first aid kit you had left there. And perhaps get a shower.

Smelling your hair briefly, you scrunched your nose up. Yes; you could use a shower.

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

The cold air that hit your skin the second you turned the water off, was something you’d never get used to. Reaching for the towel on the toilet, you wrapped your body in it, opting to dry immediately so you could put in some warmer clothes.

You barely had any time to throw a shirt over your head, when something alerted you. After years of hunting and hiding, you knew when something was up.

Changing into some jeans quickly, you reached for the tiny dagger hidden within one of your boots discarded on the floor of the bathroom.

You stayed quiet, hoping to observe some noise from the rest of your room. But you heard nothing. And perhaps that should have been the terrifying part. But a wave of comfort washed over you. Almost instantly, you felt yourself lowering the knife.

“A call would have been nice,” you called out, reaching for the doorknob. “And most people knock before entering.”

As you opened the door, you smiled at the figure on your bed. “It is a way of announcing your presence.”

“What should be over burrowed under my skin In heart-stopping waves of hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” the angel apologised, standing up. “It was an impulsive decision.”

“Yes, that is usually what relationships are built upon.” You spoke with a tease, folding the towel double before hanging it over the heater.

“You know they are looking for you.”

At those words, Castiel seemed to halt his steps, looking at you in hesitation.

“Will you tell them?” He asked carefully, almost too careful, considering his nature. But instead of doubting his words, you shook your head gently.

“Trust is also a big part of a relationship. I trust you are doing the right thing.”

With that, he sat back down, folding his hands together as he stared at them, now avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know. That is why I am here.”

“I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze Tell me what are my words worth.”

Your expression fell upon his change in tone, and you felt yourself walk up to him, before taking the empty spot next to him.

“What’s wrong, Cas?”

Your hand fell upon his entwined ones gently, rubbing soothing circles on top of it as you continued to look at him, trying to decipher the thoughts in his mind.

An immediate wave of relaxation washed through you as you felt the sting and ache of your wounds fade. You didn’t mention it. You knew it was Castiel.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Your eyebrows raised at that, retreating your hand from his. He was not speaking about healing your wounds, you knew that much.

“What makes you wonder?”

“Everything.”

That is what took you back the most. Upon first meeting the angel, he seemed so sure of himself: Steadfast and resilient. Would you have known this years ago, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself. Even now, you had a difficult time processing his words.

“What happened?”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

“I planned on killing thousands of innocents for the sake of one man,” he began to list off. “I plotted against you - on multiple instances, I played God and unleashed Leviathans into the world-“

“Cas, that’s not fair.” You tried to intervene, but he kept on going.

“I allowed Lucifer to live and let him possess not only my vessel, but me as well, I conspired with the king of hell, withheld crucial information to you and Sam and Dean, and within a matter of weeks I killed a reaper bound by a promise, let Lucifer slip from my fingers on multiple occasions and then proceeded to lose his spawn when it was in my hands. Quite literally.”

“Cas,” you sighed, finally drawing his attention, his eyes staring straight into yours. “Making mistakes is a human thing. And my- our line of work makes it nearly impossible to make tiny mistakes. But we learn from them.”

“I am a celestial being,” he pointed out, a defeated look on his face. “My brothers and sisters hated me.”

“Your time with mortals made you vulnerable, but that is not a bad thing.” You tried to comfort. “No one likes perfect people.”

“Perhaps.”

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

Still, his posture faded, and you knew he had been wandering with these thoughts for a long time. Had he not been, this wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him. He might’ve not even shown up. Moments like this nearly made you curse yourself for not recognising his conflict earlier.

“They offered me a place,” he admitted, his eyebrows furrowing together in near desperation. “The angels.”

Though it momentarily tugged on your heartstrings - the idea of Castiel no longer being around as often as he was almost hurting you - but you were happy for him. Happy that he could earn his place back.

“I conversed with Joshua.”

“What did he say?” Intrigued, you grabbed his hand again. This time, he turned it around in your hold, intertwining your finger together; a gesture that he had grown rather fond of.

“He would help me track down Kelly Kline, and eliminate her and the Antichrist. Then, I will be allowed back in Heaven.”

You smiled at that, a silent encouragement.

“That sounds like a win-win.”

“Yes,” the angel muttered, almost lost in thought. His eyes flickered over your face briefly, quietly observing your look, mesmerising each feature delicately.

“Should sins be forgiven that easily?”

“I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet.”

“I’m sure you’ve stood your trial,” you offered, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “If not, they wouldn’t allow you back in.”

But he did not seem to believe you, for his eyes still seemed far-off. Even as they were focused solely on you, as Cas’ thoughts were. But you did not know. And so, you kept on talking.

“You cannot blame yourself for all the things you have done. Personal choices tend to harm others, but it doesn’t make them evil. Even if others perceive them so.”

“You’re beautiful,” he interrupted, catching you off guard. Heat flushed to your voice as you chocked on your words halfway, your eyes widening slightly.

“Beg your pardon?” You whispered

“Your facial structures,” he continued to explain, as if it was the most usual thing on the planet. “They’re captivating when you speak about something the manner you just did.”

Stumbling over your words, you opted to remain quiet, not having expected this turn of event. Instead, your eyes fell down to your entwined hands swiftly, feeling as if you’d spontaneously combust if you’d look into his eyes one more time. Especially after the words he had just uttered.

“'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here.”

But, unlike many other situations , he seemed oblivious to your sudden shyness, and simply kept on talking.

“I am glad I finally found you. I’ve always thought humans to be silly; killing and slaughtering for love throughout the ages. They did stupid things, still do, and I never quite understood why. Not until now.”

Remembering words Dean had spoken to him earlier, Cas tugged on your hand to draw your eyes back to his, staring into the with more intent than before.

“I would kill for you.”

Swallowing thickly, you meekly uttered: “Please, don’t.”

A smile tugged on the lips of the angel, and he found himself grinning slightly at your flustered state, fondly remembering the first time he’d manage to short-wire you, though that had not been done on purpose.

He did not seem to grasp the concept of personal space, and you were too flustered to mention it.

It was quite the situation.

“A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground With no one around to tweet it.”

A comfortable silence hung in the air as Castiel slowly let go of your hands, his figure still on the old mattress.

“I want you to know that when I do go back to Heaven, you can always call for me. I will answer.”

That seemed to snap you out of your dazed state, suddenly remembering why he had even shown up in your motel room to begin with. It certainly wasn’t to get you all worked up over some simple words.

“When you are not busy.” You remarked, simple truth running over your tongue.

“No,” he protested sincerely. “I will answer. Under any circumstances.”

“What will the angels say?” You tried to joke, but it flew over his head, his head cocking to the side in confusion.

“They do not agree, but they are not allowed to intervene.” He explained, hinting towards the idea that - yes, the angels did know about you and Castiel. “So long as we will not create a Nephilim, there would be no reason for them to do anything about it.”

And at that silent hint, you grew all flustered again.

“While I bathe in cliffside pools With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief.”

A short moment of processing flew through the air, before the angle adjusted in his sea, a look at gratitude on his face.

“Thank you, Y/N, for sitting here with me. It helped.”

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” You poked, despite the nervous wreck you currently were.

“Yes, and it was appreciated. But your presence is enough.”

An unasked question was apparent and heavy on his tongue. Your eyes widened for a short moment, silently urging him to continue. A hint he seemed to understand after a couple of moments.

“You will not tell Sam and Dean?” He asked once more.

“No. But they do deserve to know eventually,” you answered honestly. “Don’t let them figure it out on their own.”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

With those words heard, he stood up, dusting his coat quickly. Then, he leaned down briefly, placing a kiss on top of your head as his hand found your shoulder, clasping it in affection.

“You are leaving already?” You asked, standing up with him in confusion.

“I must. Joshua is waiting for me.”

Of course, he was in the middle of his own debacle. His chance of being accepted by his sibling again, to be graced a second place in Heaven. You knew he deserved it, but it did not make it easier for you.

“Need an extra pair of hands?” You offered, rolling your shoulders back to present yourself more clearly.

Castiel looked at you, observing your stature in an endearing way, a faint smile tugging on his face.

“I would never voluntarily bring you into the business of angels. They are already distrusting towards you.”

You formed your lips in a thin line at his speech, balancing on the balls of your feet.

“Reassuring.”

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

Looking at you again, the angel moved forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold.

You returned the embrace almost immediately, wrapping your own arms around his neck, inhaling his scent deeply before he would be off for who knows how long.

“I will return to you, Y/N,” he voiced, his chest rumbling as he spoke. “Remember that. You can always call out to me. I will find you.”

“I know.” You smiled, before parting from him. “Be careful, okay?”

Now, it was your turn to lean forwards, placing a swift, but heartfelt kiss on his lips, making one of his hands move back to the small of your back instantly.

“I love you, Angeleyes.” You murmured against his lips. Now finally parting from him, you showed him a tiny wave.

“I love you too, honeybee.”

He still had to work on his affectionate nicknames.

“No, not without you.”

#november writings 2022 #spn #supernatural #Castiel #jimmy novak #Mischa collins #castiel x reader

[meganlpie]

Are You...Jealous?

Based on this request:  Hi Meg! I was wondering if you would write a Crowley fic? Something along the lines of he doesn’t understand why he gets jealous of readers friendship with Castiel, as they’re friends too, until one hunt when Castiel wasn’t there to save the day and Crowley jumps in. Reader is upset he got hurt, and they have an argument about it, only to realise that they care about each other. The idea sounded better in my head from @ethekitchenator​ 

Here you are! Sorry for the wait! I’ve really been struggling to write lately. I don’t own ANY SPN characters! They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: Slight angst, jealous!Crowley, fluff-ish and it’s short

Pairings: Crowley x reader

Crowley didn't have many friends. In fact, he could count on one hand how many people he saw as true friends. The Winchesters, Castiel, and you. Of the four, Crowley was closest to you. He loved being around you, even when you were fighting off other demons. He understood that was your job as a hunter. What he didn't understand was the jealousy he felt in his chest every time he saw you interacting with Castiel.

         It wasn't as though you never spent time with Crowley. You seemed to enjoy his company just as much as you did Castiel's. But Crowley could not seem to fight the tightening in his gut every time he saw you with the angel. For some reason it bothered him to no end that Castiel was the one to work alongside you and that, when you somehow managed to get hurt on a hunt, Castiel was the one who helped you. At least until one hunt.

         Crowley's brows furrowed as the name "Moose" appeared on the screen of his phone. Sam hardly ever called him. "Moose," Crowley greeted smoothly when he answered the phone. Sam let out a sigh. "Crowley…we need you. We're outnumbered. We're losing steam and Cas isn't answering. Y/N can't go much longer." No sooner was your name out of Sam's mouth was Crowley snapping his fingers.

         When Crowley took in the sight before him, he instantly understood why Sam had called. You were panting and moving much more slowly than you should have. You were running out of energy. Just as the monster was bearing down on you, Crowley did something he never thought he would. He snapped himself right in front of you.

         "Crowley?!" you cried. Crowley hissed. Even though he was a demon, the blow still hurt a bit. "Crowley, what the hell?! Why would you do that?!" you snapped, pulling Crowley down to the floor next to you. "Now, pet, I know you aren't yelling at the demon who saved your life. A thank you would suffice." You glared at him. "I didn't need you to save me! I had it under control."

         The sounds of fighting continued for another moment before everything went still. You let out a sigh of relief then turned back to Crowley. "What were you thinking?" you asked through clenched teeth. "Perhaps that I could help?" he stated, earning a scoff.

         "And you got hurt because of it! Did you even stop to think how I would feel if this had been worse? What if it had been an angel blade? You could have died, Crowley! For good! I-I couldn't take that. Don't you know I can't…I can't not have you in my life." Your voice had lowered considerably since you'd started and now you refused to look Crowley in the eyes. "I'm certain you would have felt differently had your angel been here," he muttered in return, but you'd heard him anyway.

         "Cas? What's he got to do with this? I just poured my heart out to you and that's what you're thinking about?" you snapped before your eyes widened in understanding. "Crowley? Are you…jealous?" Crowley narrowed his hazel eyes at you. "Don't," he warned in what he hoped was a menacing voice. However, your smirk only grew. "You are!"

         "Pet, you really don't want to tease a demon." You chuckled lowly. "I don't know…Seems like fun to me. Besides, you like it when I tease you." Crowley rolled his eyes. "You have no reason to be jealous," you continued softly, "I don't like Castiel that way. I've always preferred the bad boy to the angel."

         Crowley's head snapped in your direction. He hadn't been expecting that and he was sure his eyes were as wide as saucers. True, he was usually fairly confident, but you were a hunter. He never had any hope or sign that you'd felt something for him. Before he could retort though, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Pick me up at 7, good sir. You owe me a date," you as you carefully rose to your feet to follow after the Winchesters now that the hunt was finished. When you glanced back at Crowley and smiled, the demon was sure his face was as red as a tomato.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I’m sorry it was so short, but writing has been a struggling for a bit, but I’m hoping to get back to it very soon!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @sirkekselord​ @aikibriarrose​ @lady-of-lies​ @esoltis280​ @stories-by-shanna-p​ @motleymoose​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @supernatural4life2022​ 

SPN Tags: @jotink78​

#supernatural #SPN #crowley #crowley x reader

[happy74827]

Cold Little Heart

[Castiel x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Castiel returns, despite his hesitations

WC: 1,106

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

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

『••✎••』

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t risk you being collateral damage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Can’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cas…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#castiel #cas #supernatural #spn #spn series #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x yn #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #x reader #reader #angel #angels #demon #demons #lucifer spn #castiel spn #sam #spn fic #spn family #spn fandom #spn fanfic #fanfiction #lime/steamy #angst #castiel angst #angel of the lord #castiel x female!reader

[1000roughdrafts]

Happy Valentine's Day!

Hi everyone :) I have missed you all so much! I have been kicking myself these last two years for being gone for so long. Not only did I feel like I was letting y'all down, I felt like I was letting myself down. Writing is my biggest passion, and I felt like I abandoned it, and you. For context, before I left, I had Covid pretty bad, and am now suffering from long-term effects with my health because of it (that are thankfully more under control now). After having Covid I left a toxic relationship to unwittingly enter another, even more toxic and controlling relationship (whew is that a story!) and I learned that I have ADHD! (How fun is that!)

Anyway, to everyone that's still following me,

No seriously, thank you for sticking around!!

I have been working on some stuff for the last few months that I am so excited to share with y'all!

A few hours after this post will be a little Valentine's Day fluff fic to come out. Then in the coming weeks, I have a song inspired DeanxReader fic to be coming out labeled If You're Gonna Lie, and the following requests (under the read more with snippets of the fic) ready right now, to be queued. The requests will be coming out first, and then my own idea fics.

If you're interested in updating the tag list (whether that is adding your url, removing it or checking for accuracy) click here :) Next fic to be posted February 28th so if you want to update the tag list, be sure to do so before then :)

"Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!" she growls, "first my dad, then John, now you!" She throws her hand onto her stomach to try to push away the pain. Sam is taken aback by this, and that's when he notices that her hand is held tightly on her stomach. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Sam is confident that this isn't Y/N, that Y/N is in there somewhere, fighting to be free from whatever demon is possessing her.

I hear my name in Dean's voice from a distance, but I'm surrounded by total darkness. I try so hard with all of my might to tell him I'm here, that it's okay, but the words don't come. Just as it takes all of my strength to open my eyes, but they burn. Everything burns. I don't even try to suppress the scream that bellows out of me. Taking as deep of a breath as I can, I'm scared for myself when it sounds and feels like I'm breathing a water and air mixture. "What's happening?" I manage to say, but Dean puts a finger to my lips. "No, no," he soothes, "no, just don't talk. It's okay," he says so gently, and as he maneuvers me into his lap I cry out in agonizing pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, then his voice switches into a shaky, fear filled yell for Castiel that hurts my heart almost as much as my wound hurts.

Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill, being third born after two boys. She never really formed a bond with John like the eldest Winchester had, despite her best efforts to impress the man. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever could be.  Up until her eleventh birthday Dean did her hair into pigtails, partly because he didn’t know how to do any other hair style, but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He’d pack her and Sam’s lunch with snacks he’d bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew how eager she was to be just like him.  When she wasn’t learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she was spending her time with Sam. He’d help her with her homework, or play board and card games. They had as much in common as Y/N and Dean, neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither really knew their mothers. 

Speaking of requests, I'll leave them open for now but I can't promise all will be fulfilled as I try to get my groove. My schedule as I get back into things, I think, will be one fic every other week.

I also updated my master lists and will be posting them later today, to then put them all in one master master list lol

Thank you all for still being here and I hope you like what will be coming out soon :)

Current PermaTags @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

Dean @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyygirl

Sam @fangirlxwritesx67 @tlovescoffee @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty

#supernatural fan fic #writer #spn fandom #spn #bug update

[delulu4dean]

Bring Me To Life

Pairing: Demon!Dean X Destiel

Warnings: none?

Inspo: Bring me to life, evanescence

Authors note: this isn’t the greatest. I wrote this after a Margarita and being cooped up in my place all day from the “tropical storm.”

Word Count: 1,130

Castiel thought he had lost Dean, that his best friend was dead and gone. It shocked both him and Sam, obviously, to find one day his body just upped and left. Castiel had so much to deal with, after everything that happened with heaven, but how is he supposed to continue with Dean gone? His heart ached for not just his best friend, but for the man that he loves. Dean Winchester, the man who taught Castiel, angel of the lord, a soldier of heaven, what it was like to have humanity.

Dean Winchester woke up, blacked out eyes replacing his green irises. The mark couldn’t let Dean die, so he was back as a demon, off with Crowley. It’s not like Dean was actually best friends with Crowley, as much as Crowley thought they were, Crowley was more like Dean’s… side bitch. That’s the best way to put it. They had an interesting dynamic for sure, but it was nothing like what he had with Castiel. Not like it mattered anymore, though, because this Dean wasn’t himself. May it be a dark version of him, or just the fact he doesn’t have his… well humanity, he had none of the traits that made his angel friend fall for him. And he couldn’t care less.

When Sam managed to get his brother back to the bunker after months of searching, Dean was not happy. And the human blood that his younger brother injected into his bloodstream burned as it pumped through his body. Dean was furious. Enough human blood to get out of the devils trap, but still enough demon in him, he went after his brother. And that’s when Castiel came, and saved Sam from his murderous demon brother. What Castiel didn’t know, is how he saved Dean too.

Dean was sitting down, handcuffed to the chair, while Castiel was sitting across from him. He knew he should cure Dean as soon as possible, he knew the process would hurt Dean, so calming Dean down was first on his list. They were sat across from each other, staring at each other. Castiel knew they could get the real Dean back, he was still there. Dean may be a demon now, he may be acting cold, or numb, but he can be saved, and Castiel was bribing his Dean home.

“Come on, you think these can hold me?” Dean taunted, glaring at Castiel.

“Just long enough, yes,” Castiel answered honestly, then let out a sigh.

“I’m fine the way I am, Cas. I’m better this way. The Dean that you want back, the Dean that you fantasize about, he’s gone, he’s not coming back.”

Of course, Castiel was taken by surprise. He wasn’t exactly subtle but he didn’t know he was being obvious too.

“I don’t want you like that, Cas. It’s never going to happen, give up.”

While the words stung, Castiel knew he couldn’t give up. He wasn’t being Dean back for himself, he’s doing it for Dean. His intent was absolutely selfless in every way possible.

“Dean, I’m going to save you,” is all Castiel said, before getting up from his chair.

They know from their time with Crowley locked up, that human blood is the cure. Unlike Crowley though, when Dean was injected by the cure, he felt pain, burning coursing through his veins. What his buddy Crowley felt as addictive, Dean thought was torture.

Dean looked up at Cas, with his devilish smirk on his face. Cas ignores it, and takes the syringe full of blood out and puts it in Dean’s arm. Dean let’s put a pained yell, and it hurt Castiel to see the man he loved in this much pain, but it’s for a good reason. He had to keep telling himself it was for good reason. Because if he didn’t believe it, he couldn’t put Dean through this pain.

“I’m not going to give up on you Dean,” Castiel stated. “You’ve always been selfless, brave, and you’ve pushed me to be my best. And you’re at your best when you’re not a demon.”

“I disagree,” Dean smirked. “I love the way I am now.”

“I loved the way you were before.” Castiel injected more of the human blood into Dean, causing Dean to scream.

Castiel places a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing it to soothe him, or at least to attempt to soothe him.

“Loved the way I was before? What is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked.

Castiel only ignored the question, focused on turning Dean back into a regular human being. Or as regular as one can be with the mark of Cain. Dean already had enough human blood in him to break out the first time, so it shouldn’t take too long. And during the entire process, Castiel comforted Dean, even if his comfort was rejected.

Meanwhile, a million thoughts were racing in Dean’s mind, the more human he was. Castiel loved him. Castiel viewed him on a pedestal. He looked up at his savior, who had a determined look on his face. And then Dean felt something different, as if the way he looked at Cas had changed. Maybe it did. Because his face became less angry and more pained as the human blood replaced his demon blood.

“Cas?” Dean asked, breathing heavily. “Is that why you can’t give up on me? You love me?” Deans voice had no hint of taunting or teasing, it was genuine, so Castiel looks down at the hunter and nods to answer his question.

Dean felt a flutter in his chest, one he hasn’t felt in a long while. All this time, Castiel has been here, sacrificing for Dean, ruining his angelic reputation for Dean. Castiel gave everything for Dean. He didn’t know how he couldn’t see it before, the connection he and the blue eyed angel have. Castiel was more than just his best friend.

Dean looked up at Castiel one last time with his blacked out orbs, before they reverted back to his green eyes. Castiel, thinking fast threw holy water at Dean, only to find nothing happened.

“Dean,” he breathed out.

“Cas.”

Castiel immediately let’s Dean go. Dean stood up and took a step towards Castiel, who assumed it was for a hug. But instead of embracing his savior, he thanks him with a kiss. Castiel was taken aback but after a moment of processing, he melted into the kiss.

“Cas,” Dean pulled away. “I don’t like who I am without you, without your help, without your love.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Dean,” Castiel smiles.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean smiles.

Castiel returned Dean’s humanity, but it was the least he could do, since Dean taught Castiel to get in touch with his own humanity.

#dean winchester angst #supernatural #castiel #castiel spn #destiel #deancas #destiel fic

[hoper-n-dreamer]

A damn hero

Characters: Dean Winchester × platonic!Reader , Sam Winchester × platonic!reader , Castiel × platonic!reader

The roar of Impala was enough for you to get excited and run towards the living room, shuffling in anticipation for the boys to return. It has been a month since you had set foot into the once cold floors of bunkers that had suddenly become a little less cold, thanks to your warmth.

You were not a hunter, but someone who had been forced into the supernatural mess thanks to a demon. The brothers and their adorable angel friend was the reason you were safe and sound.

Sam and Dean had returned , but instead of relief you could see the regret etched on Dean's face while Sam continued to keep glancing towards Dean with a sympathetic look. You knew the hunt must have gone wrong somewhere and Dean being Dean, blamed himself.

You decided not to ask about the hunt, instead you said " Hey Sam and Dean, you must be really hungry , c'mon get yourself cleaned up and I'll serve the dinner"

" Thanks Y/N, but I am not hungry" Dean said, as he left the living room.

You looked at Sam, concerned. He didn't say anything albeit he didn't need to.

That night , you woke up, your throat dry and in need of some water , you went to the kitchen.

The lights were on, and when you reached the door you could see Dean, drowning his sorrows in what looked like the second bottle of Whiskey.

"Hey Dean, couldn't sleep?"

"wanted to but... Anyways what's keeping you up sweetheart?"

"just wanted some water."

You went to fill up your glass of water and then sat beside Dean, drinking a sip and simultaneously thinking of what to say to him. What could you possibly tell a man who thinks every mistake is his fault. How can you make him believe that he is a good man. A damn hero.

So you hold his hand and look at him, with little wetness surrounding your eyes. He looks at you with curiosity and a bit of exhaustion.

" She was just a kid Y/N. And I couldn't save her. A kid. She was so scared and if I was just a second faster I could've you know.."

Your hold on his hand becomes tighter and finally you speak as tears threaten to fall.

" I know even if I say it's not your fault you wouldn't listen, but it's not your fault. There are some things you can control and some you cannot. You did what you did, it cannot be changed, all you can do is keep moving forward and continue saving people."

He looks at you with incredulity.

" you know Y/N, you are right. I don't believe you, you know why, because it is really not my fault, but that kid's, who trusted me to keep her safe. It should have been me , not her."

"No. You don't get to say that Dean. You don't get to decide if your life is not as equally important as someone else's .Please for once listen to me when I say, you are a human, a brave , strong , kind human with a heart so damn big it could fit like thousands of football grounds. And even if you hate yourself, Sam and Castiel will always love you, I will always love you because you Dean Winchester, you are a good man even if you think you are otherwise. You know why? Because day in and day out you continue to risk your life to save other people's, you don't get paid, you don't get praised, and you still risk it all for people like me. You saved me Dean! You saved me. If it weren't for you I- I wouldn't be here. Yes today the kid died, and yes it will hurt like hell but you still won't stop saving people because you are A GOOD MAN. And you matter to me, so you better stop all this self loathing or I'll kick your ass so hard you will regret it."

And as you complete your rant, tears starts streaming your face which is huffing in anger.

" I wish you could see yourself with my eyes Dean"

Dean wipes your tears and pulls you in his arms, his chin resting on your head , his eyes closing as his own stray tear falls. While your hands grasp the back of his shirt tightly as if scared to let go.

Dean still doesn't forgive himself, and it still hurts but a little less.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean Winchester×reader #sam Winchester×reader #spn fluff #spn fanfic #spn #castiel #angst #platonic!samwinchester #platonic!deanwinchester #platonic!reader

[pointyearedelvishprincling]

Strike Three For Dr. Sexy

For @emeraldcas 💚💚💚 happy birthday bestie!

Read below or on ao3

3.3k | Part 1/3

Twelve years of barely concealed pining, heartsickness and the terrifying ordeal of vulnerability aside, turns out falling in love with the angel was the easy part.

Happiness is in just being, my ass, Dean thought, as he tore out another page etched black with ink. He’d been sitting in the diner for hours now, scratching out every dumbass idea he’d had so far to approach The Cas Problem.

Cas was back. Cas was gay? And Cas loved Dean.

Even now, the weight of those words hit him fresh every time like a Looney Toones acme ton that left twittering birds circling the comically sized bump on his head. And when the shock dissipated, well, Dean had seen stranger things than anatomically incorrect hearts beating out of his chest, but that’s exactly how it felt. His best friend was back, and he loved Dean and it was far more than Dean could ever hope for.

He tried not to think about life before Cas had come back to him. How Dean had tried to barter his own life – his own brother’s life, for fuck’s sake – to get his angel back. To tell that adorable, stubborn ass dork that Dean loved him, too.

Always had.

Dean took a sip from his mug, hardly noticing that the coffee had long gone cold. Balls of paper littered the diner table, and his small notebook of big dumb ideas was wearing thin. Dean tapped the pen rhythmically against the blank page with no Sam around to tell him he was being obnoxious. He stared at the lines on the page, chewing on his bottom lip as if that would give him any other ideas.

How do you tell an angel- scratch that: How do you tell your best fucking friend you’ve ever had that you’re in love with him? That it’s been eating you alive for years and sometimes you swear that the only thing that kept you trucking all this time was every passing touch and stupid fight and those rare, precious moments where there was more hope than fear filling the space between them?

So many times, those words had been on the tip of Dean’s sharp tongue. So many times, he’d felt the burn of them forcefully swallowed back down his throat and tucked away in his weary heart for another time, another day that might never come. It was different before, when the end of the world outpaced the urgency to tell the truth. There’d always been a sick kind of comfort to it; the chance that he might die before anyone had to know that Dean had wanted something so selfishly.

Everything was different now.

Except nothing had changed. Not really.

Dean hadn’t spoken much in the weeks it took to get Cas back. It was an empty kind of silence, like the familiar beating of his heart was muted somewhere he couldn’t reach anymore and without the rhythm, nothing made sense. He’d dreamt every night through fitful sleep about the dungeon; how his words had failed him even then.

He’d been ready then to tell Cas the truth of him. With Death literally knocking on the door, it didn’t matter if Cas didn’t feel the same. Those claws squeezing the life from Dean’s heart had been a warning from Billie: she was going to hit him where it hurt the most before he met his own end. So, Cas had to know – had to understand what he meant to Dean. Why it destroyed Dean so completely to lose Cas every time. For years he’d been building a home, building a cathedral to love and worship Castiel. He’d never even got the chance to pray.

Dean sketched absently on the page, not really comprehending the shape the ink took on with his mind far away.

He’d almost said it in purgatory. There was something about that place that put everything into perspective for Dean. There was the terror of losing Cas again; that his truth would be no more than static noise in a sunless world. It mattered more that Cas knew how sorry Dean was. How stupid he’d been to let Cas think he meant nothing to him beyond his usefulness. Every last son of a bitch in that cruel place knew the truth. “Your angel,” they’d say when Dean hunted and tortured his way to find Cas.

His angel.

Dean looked down at the scribbled pair of familiar eyes now staring up at him from his notebook. From memory, he sketched the crease between Cas’ brows. Shaded the darkness beneath his eyes and the crook of his brow that held more judgement and absolution than heaven ever could.

This wasn’t helping.

A warm hand settled on Dean’s shoulder. The touch was all wrong; it felt too light, too small. Held none of that lightning that skittered along Dean’s skin, raising the hair on his arms and setting his heart on fire. The waitress’s hand ran along Dean’s bicep, coming to a stop at his elbow.

“Thought you might need another cup,” she smiled in that way Dean was all too familiar with.

Muscle memory had him painting on the smile he knew she wanted to see, but Dean knew it didn’t meet his eyes. “’preciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” she said, eyes dropping to the notebook as Dean handed her his dirty mug. She placed a hand on her hip, eyes sparkling through dark lashes. “You an artist or something?”

Dean leaned over the notebook, resting his forearm atop the drawing. He didn’t miss the way the waitress’s teeth grazed her lower lip; how she tucked her long dark hair behind one ear. Her body language was screaming at him to look at her, notice her, drink her in. She was pretty. Beautiful, really. But Dean was only dimly aware of it, in the way he knew flowers and sunsets and nice clothes were pretty. He acknowledged it and moved on.

Seeming oblivious that he wasn’t taking the bait, the waitress sat in the seat opposite. There was only one other family in the building and she didn’t seem all that concerned about them either way. “Dinner menu starts soon if you’re hungry.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder and the sweet smell of her perfume lingered in the air between them.

Another version of Dean might have bought into it. Might have laid on the charm and asked when she gets off. He didn’t miss the game at all. It was weird, right? He felt none of that old instinct to push all the right buttons to get what he wanted. To pretend to be someone he wasn’t and feel the thrill of knowing he’d convinced her he was worth a damn. There was no spark with strangers anymore. Hadn’t been for the longest time. Dean could look at this gorgeous woman, drink in the smell of her perfume, and imagine how soft her skin would feel beneath his starving touch. He could. But he didn’t want it.

His stomach flipped as the realisation hit.

He’d been coming at this problem all wrong; strategizing talking about his feelings the same way he’d plan out a hunt. Even then, you didn’t throw yourself into the ring with the monster of the week without back up and a solid escape plan.

He didn’t have to fling himself into the deep end and tell Cas all his sappiest secrets in one bold, dumbass move. Didn’t have to risk drowning in his own senseless words or getting flat out rejected. They could start at the beginning, he and Cas. They could shake up the board and start a new game like any other couple, right?

It could be Cas at this table instead, his hand pressed to Dean’s shoulder as it had in the very beginning. His soft stare and tentative smiles. The smell of Cas; that heady charge of rain-soaked earth beneath roiling clouds of thunder, and the faint scent of ground coffee that reminded Dean of home.

Dean could ask Cas out. He could do that much.

“Are you... are you doing okay, sir?” the waitress asked, waving a hand in front of Dean’s face.

“Hm? Oh,” Dean said, blinking rapidly as he brought himself back to the present. “Uh, menu, yeah. I, uh, I’ll take a look. Thanks.”

“Great,” the waitress said, her tone slightly clipped and her smile long faded. She stood to leave when Dean called out to her again.

“Actually, make it two menus,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Might have a… a friend coming.”

“Sure.”

Dean hardly noticed her sarcastic tone as he scrolled through his contacts list. His thumb hovered over Cas’ name for the span of two deep breaths before Dean hit 'call'.

Cas answered on the third ring.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said in that way that instantly soothed Dean’s nerves. The angel had plenty of ways of saying Dean’s name, and Dean had every last one of them bookmarked in his brain and filed under favourites. From those two words alone, Dean knew that Cas was smiling.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean cleared his throat. His ears were burning already. “So, uh, I was thinkin’. Are you, uh. Busy? Right now?”

                                 #

An hour passed since Cas had gotten the call to meet Dean at the diner that he’d been frequenting alone these past few weeks. It had been a while since it’d just been the two of them; Cas ordering Dean’s second favourite item on the menu so he could eat from Cas’ plate when he’d finished his own meal. Cas had missed the intimacy of it; the chance to sit close range with Dean and enjoy his company.

He’d hoped the fact that Dean had invited him indicated that Dean might feel the same.

Cas stared around at the empty building. The glass windows shattered, chairs scattered, and tables upended. Food littered the floor among the broken plates; the ceramic flashing beneath the swinging bulb overhead torn from the fixture on the ceiling. Cas looked down at the menu beneath his foot, frowning at a droplet of blood obscuring a cartoonish image of cherry pie.

Dean groaned as he lay back on the family sized table still somehow bolted to the wall.

“Are you hurt?”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. He cracked one eye open, his gaze falling on Cas’ blood-stained trench coat. Dean sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. Cas noticed the wince Dean tried to hide and hurried to his side.

“’m fine, Cas.” Annoyance laced Dean's tone, though Cas sensed it wasn’t directed at him. “How about you? You okay?” Dean tugged gently at Cas’ coat, checking for tears or evidence of injury before the angel could respond.

Cas placed a hand over Dean's own, healing his bloodied knuckles without a second thought. Dean froze at the touch, and the angel dropped his hand in an awful mix of disappointment and shame. To remove any further temptation he tucked both his hands in the safety of his pockets.

“It’s not my blood,” Cas answered quickly, recalling the spray from the creature’s pierced heart drenching his coat even from a distance.

As one, they both turned to the body on the floor. The body that could so easily have been Dean’s if Cas hadn’t shown up when he did.

“If you’d told me there was a succubus, I would have come right away,” Cas scolded. Dean had given no indication on the phone that he’d been on a hunt. If anything, his voice had wavered slightly with that new nervous energy he’d had around Cas since he’d come back from the Empty. Things had changed between them. And though Cas would never regret his moment of happiness and how it saved the man at his side, he often wondered if Dean still wanted him around.

Dean nudged a mangled slice of lasagne with his boot. “I didn’t know,” he sighed. Dean pursed his lips, staring vacantly at the body of the waitress. Something dark passed over his face before he let out a bitter laugh. “I should’a known. But I didn’t.”

Cas frowned. He fought the urge to reach out for Dean again, hating this newfound hesitation and unsureness between them. “Dean, it’s okay. No one was hurt.”

“I could’a got you killed.”

Cas smiled a little at that. “No, you could have gotten yourself killed. I was never in any danger.”

Dean glared half-heartedly. “Whatever, man. How’d you know what she was anyhow?”

“I could see the creature’s true face,” Cas said, not bothering to hide the disgust in his tone. It’d been years since they’d dealt with a succubus. It was strange – since god’s demise, there’d been a shift in the behaviour of supernatural beings. Hunts had been few and growing further between, and there’d been a running joke amongst the Winchesters that monsters were growing domesticated.

Cas studied the dead waitress. They’d have to interrogate the other staff members and perhaps a few patrons, but if nothing had raised suspicion for Dean – who was more keen than anyone for a hunt – it was likely they’d never know how long the succubus had been operating in the area. Especially since there’d been no reported victims.

Dean disappeared into the kitchen while Cas took another look at the body. The moment Cas had entered the building, the succubus had known what he was.

Since coming back, his powers had slowly been replenishing. Even his wings were gaining strength every day, feather by feather. Cas knew he was still invulnerable for the most part; it was an innate part of his being he could sense. Still, he was quietly grateful for the silence at the end of the story, more keen to write his own ending than fall prey on a mundane hunt after everything they’d been through.

He pulled his angel blade free from the creature’s chest, cleaning the blade on its skirt. The scene could have been infinitely quieter if the succubus hadn’t reacted the way it did, overturning tables and throwing chairs, fangs retracting as it dove for Dean before Cas could reach him. A simple exorcism would have made her Rowena’s problem to deal with, but Castiel didn’t take kindly to anyone who threatened the man he loved. He’d thrown the blade right when Dean jerked his body against the creature’s grip, piercing its heart before its jagged fangs could pierce Dean’s shoulder.

The smell of smoke and burning oil snapped Cas to attention. He looked up from the body to see Dean pocketing his lighter, a ringed donut caught between his teeth. Through the mouthful Dean murmured something about “insurance money” and hastily ushered them both from the building.

Sirens wailed in the distance as Cas slid into the passenger seat of the Impala. As soon as the engine roared to life, the radio blared with the melancholy tones of an artist Dean once claimed helps him think. Dean shut the music off entirely, cheeks full of the last bite of his strawberry frosted donut.

They sped off in the opposite direction of the sirens. Flames licking the roof of the diner, the streetlamps illuminating the littered glass and pieces of broken furniture on the sidewalk. Cas watched in the rear-view mirror as it disappeared behind them.

They’d been lucky to be alone. More fortunate still that no one had gotten hurt.

Cas turned his gaze to Dean as the silence strained between them. He noted the crease in Dean’s brows – the stubborn set to Dean’s jaw that could easily be read as anger. Cas knew him well enough to see there was something else lingering beneath the surface, too.

Dean’s knuckles were white on the wheel for the entire drive home. When they pulled into the Bunker's garage, the silence only swelled once the homely rumble of the Impala died out.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled to the steering wheel. “That’s not how I meant for tonight to go down.”

Cas shifted in the seat to face him fully, his head tilting in confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“I’m not-“ Dean scrubbed his hands over his eyes, and Cas noted the blood crusted to his knuckles. “God, why is this so hard?”

Something cold settled behind Cas’ ribs. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean dropped his hands. Blinking rapidly, he turned to Cas as he said, “why are you sorry?” He sounded exhausted and confused.

Cas couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t pretend that everything they once had wasn't changed.

“What I told you in the dungeon,” Cas said, forcing strength he didn’t feel into his voice. “I thought I was dead, Dean. I thought that was the end of us, the end of me.” He paused, smiling sympathetically at the ghost of devastation that passed over Dean’s face. “I meant every word,” Cas continued, and when he’d caught Dean’s eye, he found that same expression in them that had been there that night in November. “It’s my truth, and I’d do it all again to save your life. But I hate how things are different now. You don’t-“ Cas felt a tremor in his voice and paused to collect himself. Dean was frozen, hanging on to every word. He barely seemed to be breathing. “You don’t want me in that way, and it’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Cas-“

“I mean it, Dean.”

Dean dropped his chin to his chest, his shoulders shaking. Cas thought for an awful moment that he might be crying, before Dean looked up with the biggest smile on his face. Dean shook his head in disbelief. “I asked you out tonight, dumbass. What d’you think that means?”

Cas stared silently.

He replayed the night twice over in his head. Three times.

“No, you did not.”

“Yeah, man, I did. On the phone?”

Cas was no stranger to getting lost in translation, especially when it came to Dean and the pop cultural riddles his speech was made up of, but he was certain Dean had done no such thing.

“You asked me to meet you at the diner.”

“Exactly.”

Cas stared incredulously. “The diner run by a whore of hell.”

“Semantics,” Dean waved his hand flippantly.

“Dean,” Cas said, as if the word conveyed every unspoken thought running through his mind. “You didn’t say it was a date.”

Dean’s smile faded as a blush bloomed bright along his cheeks, flushing his freckled neck and ears. “Are you sure?”

The doubt in his voice told Cas that he was right. This time the misunderstanding wasn’t his fault. “I’m sure.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Cas said, feeling a bubble of laugher rise in his throat. The righteous feeling subsided as the meaning behind Dean’s words took root. Cas studied Dean; his blushing face hidden mostly in shadow in the darkened garage. The smile on Dean’s lips a vulnerable thing; more holy to the angel than all of heaven.

Dean scratched the back of his neck and Cas noted the slow, practised breaths Dean took before he next spoke. “A’right, um. Cas… buddy,” Dean paused, frowning at himself. “Would you wanna go on a date? A date-date. For real this time. No monsters, no killer waitresses – none of that crap. Just… just you and me?”

For years, Cas had been mystified by Dean’s smooth talking. He’d watched Dean flirt himself out of even the most ridiculous situations, and while Dean was beyond the modern standard of conventional attractiveness, it was maddening how easily it came to him. Cas had spent many years cloaked in shame, wondering how it felt to be at the other end of Dean’s pantomimed affections. Now, he’d never seen Dean so worked up with nerves.

Joy flooded through Cas’ veins, sweeter than any rush of grace. His wings stretched out; stronger than they’d been in years as he smiled bright and brilliant at the stubborn, pain in the ass, beautiful man he’d fallen for in every way he could.

They should have been a footnote in Chuck’s story, and instead they’d outlasted the creator of Heaven and Earth, surviving to write their own epilogue.

“Yes, dumbass,” Cas grinned. “I’d like that very much.”

#this got way out of control so i had to split it up lmao #anyways happy birthday (day 2) 😌 mel!! #it’s cas’ fault this is late but he’s just a lil guy!!! he cannot be blamed :’) #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic #fanfic #gardenforcas #angelscas #user4x01 #becauseofthebowties #chapeldean #spxcekya #offbeattraxx

[inacatastrophicmind]

Suptober, day 2: Pillow Talk

“Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’ve gotten together sooner?” Dean asked as he ran his fingers through Cas’ dark hair.

They were in bed, exhausted from spending the majority of their day working on their lake house. It was almost completed, but they still needed to go through some details that would fully transform the house into a home, like adding pictures, finding the perfect shelves for their books, Dean’s movies and Dean’s records, getting all the indoor plants Cas loved, buying stuff for hobbies they wanted to try… It was a hard work, but it was worth it, because they were building their home together and on their own terms.

Cas looked at him with a thoughtful face. He looked a bit more tired than Dean, probably because he still was learning about the limits of the human body, but just like Dean, he was happy and relaxed by just lying on their bed, face to face, hands on each other, sharing a few kisses every now and then, having some pillow talk. They always loved doing that. Even when they were sleepy, they always did some pillow talk because they could now, because they weren’t scared of anything anymore, because it was just the two of them in love, happy and safe.

“Sometimes,” Cas answered after a beat. His hand was cupping Dean’s face, his thumb moving soothingly over Dean’s freckles. “But I try not to dwell in the what ifs of the past.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah, I get it, the past’s the past, we can’t change anything about it. It’s just— I dunno.” With his other hand, he grabbed Cas’ free hand and caressed his knuckles. “Sometimes I keep thinking about all the times I could’ve just told you that I loved you. It would’ve saved us both from the heartache.”

“Perhaps,” Cas sighed, looking at their joined hands. “I also wish I could have been able to tell you that I loved you sooner, but…”

“Yeah, there was always something. A monster, an apocalypse, a life or death situation…” Dean finished, and their eyes met, speaking a language that they both no longer found foreign. “But in the end, you did tell me.”

“I did.”

“And you chose the worst time and place to do so.”

“At least I found the courage to confess my love for you first.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He also found Cas’ cocky stare amusing.

“Okay, fair point,” Dean admitted, bringing Cas’ knuckles to his lips and kissing them. “Anyway, aside from the shitty and near-death experience we were in—"

“I did die, Dean,” Cas interrupted, frowning.

“Please, don’t remind me that, sweetheart.”

Cas’ eyes softened and looked sad for a moment. He leaned and pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips, and then said, “I’m sorry, beloved.”

“Okay, so,” Dean cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the memories of that night. He had managed to save Cas from the Empty in the end, but remembering Cas’ last death was something that still hurt Dean. Just like Cas still suffered some trauma from his time in the Empty. That night had affected them in different ways. “Apart from the situation we were in that night, weren’t you fucking terrified about confessing your love? Coz I’m pretty sure you didn’t know how I truly felt. Even if I thought I was fucking obvious, I’ve never been the best at expression my feelings. I’m still working on that, though.”

Cas smiled softly at him. It was the kind of smile he only did for Dean, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat, like it always did.

“You do express your feelings, Dean,” Cas said, making Dean frown in confusion. “Perhaps you don’t do it often with words, but you do express your love in gestures. I just didn’t know that back then.” He maneuvered their hands until Dean’s palm was free and he pressed it to his lips. It wasn’t the first time Cas kissed Dean’s palm, but it still managed to make Dean blush, which Castiel found lovely. “But to answer your question, I wasn’t terrified.”

Dean arched his brows in surprise. “You weren’t?”

“I wasn’t. I wanted you to know how much I loved you, and how much love drove you despite of your beliefs. With every word that I was saying to you, I felt happier and freer, a feeling that culminated once I told you that I loved you.”

Dean just looked at him, processing the words.

“I thought it was going to be a goodbye and that I wasn’t going to have time to face the consequences of my love confession,” Cas explained. “I was fearless, because I was finally able to tell you how I felt, I was able to tell you how much you meant to me, how much you changed me, and how wonderful you were.” He smiled at that, and his eyes got slightly glassy, probably feeling the emotions he had felt that night. “And I think a part of me knew that you felt the same, because I could see love in your eyes, even if I wasn’t sure if it was the kind of love I felt for you. But once you saved me, I found out that you loved me in the same way I loved you.”

Unable to say any words, Dean kissed him, hoping that Cas would get the message. Dean still was trying to connect his heart to his mouth, but it was still a work in progress. Thankfully, Cas was getting better and better at understanding Dean’s many languages.

When they pulled away, they looked at each other with shaky smiles and eyes full of love.

“I was gonna confess that night too,” Dean admitted in a whisper.

“Were you?” Cas asked, almost shocked.

Dean nodded. “I wanted to do it. We were probably gonna die and I just— I just wanted you to know. I was trying to find the courage to do so, but then you said that maybe there was a way to defeat Billie, and well, you know how it all went down.” He sighed. “But I wanted to tell you so bad, Cas. I wanted to just tell you, but in the end, I just— there was so much going on that I couldn’t say it back.”

“But you did say it back when you saved me,” Cas assured him, pressing their foreheads together. “And you still say it to me every day. That’s what matters, Dean.” He pressed a brief but lovingly kiss on Dean’s lips. “Better late than never; isn’t that the saying?”

“Yeah, surprisingly you remembered the saying.”

Cas rolled his eyes, albeit fondly. Dean grinned.

“The past is done,” Cas said, ignoring Dean’s comment. “We both made good and bad choices along the way, but in the end, we ended up here. And I think that is a good thing.”

“It’s a fucking awesome thing,” Dean admitted with a soft and happy smile that Cas soon mirrored. Then, he removed the distance in between them and kissed Cas one more time. “I love you.”

Cas kissed him one more time and with as much love in his voice as Dean, he said, “I love you, too.”

#Destiel #suptober22 #tuserpris #otp: i need you #my writing

[nancylou444]

November 23, 2013

Anon, you sound young and confused. The young part, I can’t help you with, but I can try to clear up some of your confusion.

Dean is a straight guy

YES HE IS. Dean has said it numerous times. The PTB have said it numerous times. JENSEN has said it numerous times. You cannot change canon. DEAN IS STRAIGHT IN CANON. DEAN IS STRAIGHT IN CANON.

Maybe if it is said enough times, people will finally get the message that DEAN IS STRAIGHT IN CANON.

…disprove Destiel...

Castiel beat Dean twice and Cas threatened to throw him back into Hell.  WHY would he want to have a sexual relationship with someone who abuses him?

Castiel called Sam, the ‘boy with the demon blood’, and an ‘abomination’. WHY would Dean want to have a sexual relationship with someone who says nasty things about his brother?

Castiel was full of himself and got Sam out of the Cage, without a soul and then lied to Dean about not knowing HOW Sam got out of the Cage. THEN continued to lie and spy on Dean and co. that entire year. THEN bought down Sam’s protective Hell Wall, knowing THAT would be the perfect way to get Dean to stand down. Nothing there speaks of ‘love’ to me.

Dean and Castiel end up in Purgatory and instead of telling Dean that he was leaving to ‘protect’ Dean (his later ‘excuse’), Cas just disappeared, leaving Dean to fend for himself. If you ‘love’ someone, you don’t do this shit.

When Naomi told Dean and Cas the truth in regards to the demon’s trial and that Sam would die, Cas tried to convince Dean that she was lying. Dean then told Cas that he needed to get to Sam ‘NOW’. Dean picked Sam over Castiel.

When Ezekiel!Sam told Dean that if Cas stayed in the bunker than Ezekiel (and Sam) would have to leave, Dean told CAS to leave. Dean picked Sam over Castiel AGAIN.

...but you ship Wincest.

Don’t know why WE need to go over this ten times every fucking day?

BROTHERLY Wincest is CANON.

BROTHERLY Wincest is CANON.

BROTHERLY Wincest is CANON.

BROTHERLY Wincest is CANON.

BROTHERLY WINCEST IS CANON.

Nine seasons. 179 episodes of Sam loving Dean and Dean loving Sam.

CANON CANON CANON.

DEAN threatening anybody that hurts Sam with death. Dean selling his soul to get Sam bought back to life. Dean telling Sam:

"Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it — none of it — is true. Listen, man, I know we’ve had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I’ve said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy…come on. I killed Benny to save you. I’m willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I’m begging you."

CANON CANON CANON

SAM threatening anybody that hurts Dean. Sam wanting to trade his soul, just to get Dean out of Hell. Sam with tears in his eyes, begs Dean:

"I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. ‘Cause… just ‘cause."

CANON CANON CANON

They shared a Heaven because they are soulmates.

CANON CANON CANON

Most Wincest shippers, like myself, KNOW that Sam and Dean will never kiss and make love on a show that airs on the CW. THAT is why we have fanfic and art for the FANON ship of SEXUAL wincest. WE know the difference between CANON and FANON.

We can separate the BROTHERLY CANON wincest from the SEXUAL FANON wincest.  

Unlike SOME destiel shippers that want to see a sexual relationship between Dean, WHO IS STRAIGHT IN CANON, and Castiel, WHO IS IN THE BODY OF A STRAIGHT MAN AND WHO HAS KISSED AND SLEPT WITH ONLY WOMEN on the show.

SPN is not going to have a romance as the main story. Especially a ‘romance’ between two CANON STRAIGHT men.

…it breaks my heart to see posts like yours.

Why?

Because you feel entitled? Because you are a spoiled child that isn’t getting the toy (canon destiel) that you want, no matter how much you yell and stomp your foot?

Can you please stop?

You’re kidding right? WHY should I stop? Because my OPINION bothers YOU?

THEN GET OFF MY BLOG. Simple as that. You don’t like what I have to say, then go away. Unfollow me. Ignore me. Blacklist me.

Nobody is pointing a gun to your fool head and demanding that you look at Nancy’s Wincest World, OR ELSE.

Grow up.

If I had screenshot this, it would have been hard to read. 

There are very few of my 2013 posts archived, so this was a treasure that I needed to have here. 

Here is the archived post. 

#ten years of #nancy's wincest world #nancy444 #nancylou444 #idiots in my askbox #wincest #for the win #bibros #destiew #november 2013

[gococogo]

Coco's Masterlist

「 Navigation 」

Information: Warnings and other information will be listed when you click into the fic. this is just a list and a simple description about said one. Enjoy what I've written!

⋆ Fics will be added here that are coming soon or when they have a schedule. So don't be shy to check up on here every now and again ⋆

Last updated: 19th of March

♡ Kinktober Masterlists ♡

⋆

✾ 2023 Kinktober

: Total, 9 fics

♡ Supernatural Fics ♡

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Series

↳

✾ Playing Couple [Unfinished/Currently being updated]

[Dean and Cas are forced to play as a couple to undergo a job. But sooner than later, the job starts to go sideways and Dean's feeling towards the angel come forth]

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One Shots

↳

✾ Warming Up

[Dean is left alone in the snow and calls upon an angel to warm him up]

✾ Desperation

[Dean gets hit my a mysterious pollen on one of their jobs. Cas is the only one with him and he knows what the pollen does. And the effects hit Dean before they're able to finish and head home]

✾ Destiel Valentine's Day Special

[Castiel has only heard of Valentine's Day from other humans on earth and would like to participate in this celebration with Dean]

♡ Marvel Fics ♡

⋆

One shots

↳

✾Memories

[Steve is worried that Bucky doesn't remember anything but he quickly finds out that the former soldier remembers more than he lets on]

✾ Bucky oneshot

[Bucky decides to wear something different]

♡ Assassin's Creed Fics ♡

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Series

↳

✾ Having Earned More

[Haytham realizes that Shay hasn't been receiving the attention he needs and wants to make sure the former Assassin knows that he is wanted]

✾ Childlike Innocence [Unfinished]

[No older than sixteen, Haytham travels to America with Birch for business. It should be a new experience, something that Haytham should be able to explore out by himself and meet new people. But Birch wants him by his side and to learn of the things he does.

But all Haytham can think of is a boy around his age he met on the docks. A boy called Shay]

✾ Heart of the Sea {Shaytham Titanic Au}

Coming after Childlike Innocence

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Oneshots

↳

✾ In The White Roses

[When Shay doesn't come after a couple of days, Haytham becomes extremely worried. More so than he usually would. And when he finds Shay, hurt and injured, he realizes there may be more than he is letting on]

✾Night of Christmas - Shaytham Christmas Special

[Christmas has rolled around and while Shay is out celebrating, Haytham is brooding. And it's on this night that Shay finds a little understanding on why Haytham doesn't enjoy this time of year]

✾ A New Day for the New Year - Shaytham New Years Special {Kind of a sequel to Night of Christmas}

[Having invited Shay to a New Years party because there's no one else he'd rather be with, he quickly realized they should have stayed home. He can't touch Shay or hold Shay like other couple under the fireworks. Too many eyes, too many people. But Shay makes it work.]

✾ A Fool's Life (Shaytham Fic)

[Shay has come back into Haytham's life after so long, only to send him away to search another artifact. All to push away feelings that aren't permitted in an age of his time. When the time comes that Haytham can express these thoughts he's had, would such a man like Haytham be able to admit them?]

♡ Cyberpunk 2077 Fics - Male!V ♡

⋆

Oneshots

↳

✾ Share Your Toys - SilverV

[V buys something interesting and Johnny isn't all too interested in playing along. All until everything becomes unbearable and he has to show V just how to use it correctly]

✾ Feeling Tense - SilverV

[Johnny realizes that V isn't feeling so good and wants to release some tension in those joints of his. Which is very out of character for a prick like himself.]

⋆⋆⋆

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form

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