#The complicity of hunters and cas

[maipareshaan]

No fr s6 has such a slimey gross vibe like oo i love it

[shallowseeker]

To clarify, I think this is lovely for Cas. It's what makes him such a hard-hitting, wonderful character. He lives with his guilt, and he tries to do better anyway. He's, to quote a friend, "the knife emoji trying not to be a knife emoji."

I actually like season 6--it shows that the angels have lasting psychological wounds from living under Heaven's brutal regime. And yet, remarkably, they all *try* to exercise their free will and do what they think is right.

For better or for worse, Uriel decides to stand with Lucifer. "Something is wrong up there, Castiel."

Anna tries to go back in time to prevent the Apocalypse. "Sam Winchester has to die. I'm really sorry about this."

Lucifer: "Let's walk off the board, brother."

Rachel gets intel about Purgatory and confronts her superior--knows it's too dangerous to undertake, "(You can't win the war) this way, Castiel."

Ion despairs and turns to being a double-agent, "Do you even know what the mission was? They've been in all our heads!"

Samandriel: "Listen to me closely. I've been there. I know! They're controlling us, Castiel"

Even Metatron: "You ran me from my home! Did you really think you could do all of that to me and there'd be no payback?"

Muriel: "Each side is rounding up those who try and stay neutral. Angels are being tortured and killed if they don't pledge loyalty."

Malachi: "Virtue is its own punishment."

I'm sure there are more. Everyone who lived under Heaven was affected. I kinda like that Cas had lasting effects from Heaven's war machine. Season 6 was him spiraling hard from the psychological wounds of Heaven, and it kept going well into the entirety of the series, all the way to Dumah's insurrection and manipulation of Jack.

///

This history is part of why I think Cas is so patient with others in his family (with Sam, with Dean, with Mary, with Jack!)

CASTIEL: Jack, I've killed people who didn't deserve it… my friends– I've killed people I loved. I wish I could tell you that it– that it gets easier, that with time, it hurts less, but that would be a lie because it– it never gets easier. And those moments, they never stop hurting. But that doesn't mean that you should stop fighting. Doesn't mean that just because you made a mistake – and that's what this is, Jack. It's a mistake. That doesn't mean that you can't– can't be better, do better. I believe that. I have to believe that.

Cas forgives others because he struggles to forgive himself. Cas killed people he loved: Balthazar, Samandriel, and countless others. He wants to believe that Jack can be better, do better. Because, as I said above, he wants to see something Angelic being a Good force for the world.

///

And yet, Cas seems to come to terms with being brutal, with being the knife. We see that on display so well in season 13. He becomes very comfortable with wielding his his violence during times of war to protect those he's chosen to be with.

We see him integrating his angelic brutality->when he mind-melts Donatallo, when he fights his way to Jack & Mary, when he tortures AU informants for information.

(It's illustrated beautifully in Meredith's script. "You're more than a weapon, Cas." "In times of peace, I can be.") But if war is coming, Cas will get in front of everyone he loves; he'll do the ugly thing. He's a soldier. He's good with that. To him, it's worth the cost. His morality is comfortably flexible.

His alternate version tells him that they're the same. Cas replies that he knows. He's under no idealistic illusions anymore. He's chosen to fight for those he is loyal to, knowing full well that righteousness and morality are relative to the locus you center it around. In this timeline, he's choosing to fight for the ones he loves. Familial blue collar soldier.

Why did Cas kill Balthazar?

Sometimes I chat with folks and we're surprised to revisit the fact that Cas killed Balthazar in a fit of cruel paranoia before he ever gulped in the soul juice.

Cas is incredibly paranoid when he kills Balthazar, and it was quite possibly one of his worst moments. It seems irrational and mad at the time, but Cas's psyche is actually very understandable. Cas was betrayed by Heaven numerous times from seasons 4-6. That set him up to be backed into a corner.

In early season 4, Heaven drags him in for torture for daring to even consider warning Dean about their corrupt plans.

Uriel tries to kill him and join Lucifer.

At the end of season 4, Cas gets brutally murdered for standing up for what he feels is right. Bazillions of years of military service and loyalty mean nothing to his superiors, and he's vaporized in an instant. He seems particularly betrayed by Raphael.

When Cas returns to Heaven post-Apocalypse #1, he's ashamed that they want to start up Apocalypse #2. He even stands against Raphael at first! Interestingly, Raphael doesn't kill him again but "knocks him into next week." I think this hints that Raphael was at one time fond of Castiel, or else he'd have simply killed him again.

So, angelic civil war.

Cas doesn't go to Dean or Sam or Bobby because he's ashamed of Heaven, and above all, he wants to protect them. Not to mention, he didn't want to make them a target because to angels, they're a relatively soft target. While he's in battle, he can't be there to protect them.

So away, Cas and Crowley go for a SuperMario power-up by tapping Purgatory's battery. Meanwhile, Cas convinces a team of angels to stand with him against Raphael.

Even with his "show of power" via the souls Crowley loaned to him (and I'm guessing Cas can wield soul power in a way Crowley cannot?), that's still a big risk those rebel angels are taking.

And Cas doesn't tell them critical parts of his plan. Because he knows his plan is wrong. He doesn't even tell Balthazar everything. But more importantly, he doesn't trust Heaven. Thanks to what Heaven has wrought, Cas doesn't even trust his rebel angels--the ones brave enough to take on friggin' Raphael with him.

I mean, sure. He was always going to double-cross Crowley, but it didn't even cross his mind to divvy up the soul power with Balthazar or his rebel angels. That's because he's paranoid of them turning on him.

And with what Heaven has thus far shown itself to be...why wouldn't he be?

[soft-pine]

when i think about this scene from 15.15 it makes me want to chew glass and tear up the walls in rage.

AMARA: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person, that the myth you'd held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.

for the record i want to say i am a known amara-hater. don't like the non-con shit. don't like that she's doing what so many beings in spn do and narrativizing dean's life back at him while judging him because she drew the wrong conclusions. but i think fandom does have a tendency to take those claims at face value because that is easier than combing back through to check if it's correct or not. (see for example, rachel saying dean only calls cas when he needs him in 6.18. narrativizing, incorrectly. but i digress)

so let's talk about mary. because, through the seething rage, i think two main things about this claim. 1. dean does not have this mythos around mary and 2. mary has arguably more of that mythos around dean.

first off, we'll tackle the claim that it's a myth that if mary hadn't died, dean wouldn't have a better life. because that is absolute, utter, dogshit. OF COURSE HE'D HAVE A BETTER LIFE. while i will always maintain that clearly mary and john were far from stable before she died, her death was what speared john forward into hunting, into turning his kids into soldiers, into neglect and parentifying, and every other god forsaken thing he did. "a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth" - girl, i DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DIVINE, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

like please don't come here acting like dean grieving the future he could have had that didn't include him taking care of his younger brother alone in motel rooms for days while maybe actually being left as bait for the Kid-Eater is a character flaw on his part that he needs to learn better from.

next, amara claims dean needs to see the "real, complicated Mary."

but hasn't he? dean goes back in time and meets his mom in 4.03 and 5.13. and both times he treats her both as a competent hunter and a colleague. like to be clear, before that, i dont think he was wrong to be relying on a four-year-old's memory of what his mom was like because that's literally all he had access to. but dean actually did meet and interact with the whole, complex woman who was his mother long before amara decided to teach him a lesson with her as the homework. in both 4.03 and 5.13, dean tries to give mary advice to save her life but he doesn't belittle her experience hunting or her desire to leave and life a normal life. i don't know what more you want from him in terms of interacting with his mom as a whole, real, complex person?

this also applies wholly and completely to his interactions with her when she returns in s12. he apologizes for being nervous for her safety (AFTER SHE WAS JUST RESSURECTED) at first. mary says she wants to hunt, dean gets on board. mary says she needs space, dean asks clarifying questions to best support her request. he gets mad at her not for being who she is or needing what she needs but for lying to him for months and working with people who tortured him and sam.

in fact, s12 is what i would point to to indicate how well dean articulates and navigates the nuance of being hurt by someone's actions while still understanding and empathizing with why they did it and forgiving them. for example, he says this in 12.04

DEAN: This whole mom thing, it's... I mean, we get her back, and then she leaves. I hate it, but I get it. I do. I guess I'm just...still working through some of that crap. I'll try to be less of a dick about it.

[you're not a dick, dean, ilu]

in fact, dean's much maligned "how 'bout for once, you just try to be a mom?" isn't even about dean wanting anything particularly maternal from mary. it's about him not wanting her to ditch them to hunt alone and/or with the aforementioned torturers.

so circling back to amara's speech about expectations and myths. cause while her words do not apply to dean. amara's speech does remind me of something that happens upon mary's return in s12. these lines from 12.03:

DEAN: Mom, it's okay. All right? You're home now. MARY: No. I'm not. I miss John. I miss my boys. SAM: We're right here, mom. MARY: I know. In my head. But I'm still mourning them as I knew them. My baby Sam. My little boy Dean. Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven, and now...I'm her, and John is gone, and they're gone. And every moment I spend with you reminds me every moment I lost with them.

of course she has every right to grieve the time she lost with her kids. but someone in this room is having trouble really looking at the people in front of them because of their idealized memory of who they were compared to are and It Is Not Dean.

and i just think about dean's speech in 12.22. cause it wasn't dean that needed to see the real mary. it was mary, tucked away in her dream world where sam is a baby and dean is a little elementary schooler who likes pie and has never held a gun, who needed to see the real dean.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Thirteen: Stress Relief

Synopsis: Three and a half months of non-stop jobs back to back and Dean can feel the tension residing in his muscles. In every fiber of his being. Spa days don't work. A casual beer doesn't help to rid of this feeling. He needs someone to fuck the tension away. And he has his angel to do so.

Word Count: 3.3K

Pairing: Castiel / Dean Winchester

Warnings: Multiple orgasms. Oversensitive. Massages. Cum as lube. But also lube is used as well. Handcuffed. Anal sex. Masturbation. Hand job.

Note: Jesus christ we're already this far into october. where did the first two weeks go?

The angel blinks, brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. He stares at Dean for a tad too long that the man groans with a hand swiping down his face. Embarrassment sinks heavily into his gut, causing Dean to advert his gaze down to the floor.

“Dean,” Castiel speaks firmly, “I’m not protesting,” he admits.

The hunter sits on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the blanket. He’s asked for similar stuff in the past, but this. This concerns Castiel more than it does anything else.

“I just wished you had told me before how stressed you were,” the angel admits. “Have you tried a spa day?”

“You know those don’t work!” Dean snaps. “They work for a day, but I wake up still feeling tense as ever!”

Cas just wishes he had noticed sooner. Or that Dean had spoken out sooner. Him and his brother have had job after job after job for the past three month and a half with little to no breaks in between. Yes, Dean has been doing this his entire life, but he’s admitted to Cas that he doesn’t go out to bars at all these days. No time to or he just doesn’t see the need to.

Dean’s a complicated man hence why the angel doesn’t care when the hunter goes out late at night. Or hooks up with someone on the side. He would hate to put a claim on a human soul. He’s been owned in the past himself and it sends a shiver down his spine. Uriel’s touch still lingers in some spots if he thinks about it too much.

But with moments like these that Dean does come to him, allows himself to move past his father’s words that spin around his mind that linger like an early morning fogs, Cas takes what he’s given. And he’ll gladly, in Dean’s words, fuck all the tension from him.

A firm hand pushes Dean back onto the bed with a thump. The tension in Dean’s room quickly melts away as fast as it came. The angel looks down to Dean through hooded lids, his blue gaze like steel. The usual colour is so much darker in the shadows of the room that it sends a chill down the hunter’s spine. He doesn’t move from the bed, staring up at the angel as he breathes evenly.

“Take your clothes off.”

The angel’s gruff spoken words cause a physical reaction from Dean. A shiver and a slight flinch of his hands, as if he was anticipating the order. He eagerly takes his flannel and shirt off, all without sitting back up off the bed. While Dean shuffles his pants off, Cas wonders over to his bedside table where he knows lube is stashed.

When Cas turns, Dean is stark naked on the bed. The fresh and yellowing bruises across his torso are hard to miss. There’s a dark purple circle on his ribcage that looks painful. Cas will have to heal that later.

Dean lazily strokes at himself, his head lolled to the side so that he can watch the angel. Cas smiles softly before it disappears. It truly hurts him to see Dean so battered up and bruised.  

Cas asks a question as he comes back over to the bed. “How long as it been since someone else has touched you?”

Dean swallows thickly as his green eyes don’t dare drag away from the angel before him. He doesn’t answer, instead watching as Cas shuffles off his trench coat and taking off his tie. He doesn’t stop stroking himself and doesn’t quicken the pace. And the angel doesn’t seem phased at all. He even sits next to Dean on the edge of the bed, his clothes brushing up against his bare thigh.

“Hmm?” Cas hums.

“Around three months,” Dean finally answers.

A single dark brown is raised in Dean’s direction. “So, before you went on the first job?”

“Ye- nah!”

Dean pants out unexpectedly as a small dollop of lube is squeezed out onto the head of his dick. The cold contrast has him hissing but it’s quick to warm up on his hand.

“Don’t stop,” Cas says firmly, his voice blunt. “Keep going for me.”

In the past, Dean was a little taken a back by how pretty much the same the angel was in bed to his usual demeanour. Blunt, to the point and sort of a control freak. He doesn’t know what he expected despite his whole outlook on military men, big softies behind closed doors. Big on control outside of the bedroom but once with someone else, they just melt. They become as docile as a dog. Taking orders and obeying them without question. It’s just taken Dean a little too long to realize that that trope is best fit for him.

Not the angel that watches him idly with those blue eyes that are always so striking. Giving him a simple task so that he doesn’t think of the past couple of months.

“You should have let me come with you on your last job,” Cas admits.

“Too dangerous.”

Even hearing those words come form his own mouth, Dean knows they’re a lie. And by the furrowed brows that quickly turn his way tell him the angel didn’t buy it either. Not with his dick in hand.

“Too dangerous? Or didn’t want me in the way?”

Dean swallows thickly. This isn’t what he asked for. He didn’t want to think of the constant shit that he’s been through. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped stroking himself until Cas’s eyes venture down that way.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asks.

“Look,” Dean starts. “I didn’t want you with bec- ah- AH!”

For the second time tonight, Dean is cut off by Cas. The angel wraps a firm hand around his dick and begins a quick pace. He smears his lube covered palm on the head of Dean’s cock before sliding it down the underside, to grip it firmly as he jerks back up and he repeats the notion multiple times.

Both of Dean’s hands fist into the blankets as he slams his head into the bed. His hips jerk upwards and it’s very hard to contain himself when Cas knows how to work him. He squeezes his eyes shut as his soft pants become erratic. There’s so much tension in his body that it doesn’t take long at all for him to tip over the edge.

He comes unexpectedly and he shakes violently as Cas continues to stroke his cock, pumping everything out of him. He smears Dean’s cum onto his dick, making a mess out of the hunter. Dean looks through bleary eyes, swallowing thickly as he tries to collect some air in his lungs again.

“Cas I-“ He swallows again, trying to find his words, “I need more. Don’t stop.”

At that, a small smile creeps upon the angel’s face. As if ecstatic to keep going. That Dean is asking him.  

Cas’s filthy hand venture down past Dean’s balls to his ass. The hunter’s breath hitches as a single finger slides in with a little friction. It has been a while since he’s done this with anyone that each by pass of the angel’s touch is like electricity. He’s still coming down from his orgasm, but he shuffles his legs further apart as Cas strokes slowly, thrusting in and out and making sure that the pad of his finger curls into that delicate spot every time. The hunter shivers, his breath hitching at every prod at his prostate. He knows Dean. Inside and out.

After a while of teasing, a second is added and a third not too long after that. Dean digs his palms into his face as he arches his back off the bed. He tries to control the noises that unwantingly come from his throat, but he can’t stop himself. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t scratching that itch for him and it’s going to drive him nuts if Cas doesn’t fuck him right this instant.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean groans into his hands.

At that, a deep chuckle comes from the angel that had Dean’s heart beating all the faster. The fingers leave him but they venture up and give his balls a gentle squeeze. Dean grinds his teeth as he groans, exhaling shakily. The bed moves as Cas stands, his warm touch leaving the hunter. Bringing his hands away from his face, he gets a full view of the angel’s naked back.

His face heats up quickly. He feels like some school girl that hasn’t ever seen a boy naked before. But wouldn’t that be true? Dean ever rarely gets to see the tanned skin hiding under all those fancy layers the angel wears. He feels his mouth go dry as the belt and the pants are the next to be removed. Dean lets his eyes roam to every toned muscle the angel is letting him look upon. The almost, angelic moment doesn’t last long as Cas loops his belt once on itself and Dean is quick to realize what’s going to happen next.

“Hold out your hands.”

Dean complies silently to Cas’s gruff words. He holds his hands out together so that the angel can easily loop his belt around his wrists. He tightens it as tight as it can go, knowing damn well that Dean will twist out of them if he wants to. Once done, he pushes his wrists above his head so that Dean’s body lay outstretched before him. A beautiful sight.

Cas can’t resist to let his hands roam down Dean’s scarred chest. His thumbs dig into his pecs, feeling just how tense they are. He kneads and earns himself painful hisses from the hunter below him as he runs his knuckles into the muscle. But Dean doesn’t stop him. He becomes breathless as Cas moves down to his torso, doing the same that he did to his pecs. Massaging and driving his knuckles and fingers into tense muscle, easing out the knots that are bundled up. He avoids the dark bruise on his ribs, not wanting to harm Dean any more than he’s been put through. Cas would hate to feel his back.

The angel is well aware that he could heal Dean’s muscles. Heal everything so that the hunter feels brand new. Refreshed. But it’s the process that Dean needs. The hours out of his day to let someone touch him. Feel the warmth of someone else’s tender touch caressing away the tension that resides in his fibre. That seeps into his bones. He needs someone to grind it away until he’s nothing but dust.

The angel moves down to his thighs and does the same. Dean shakes and groans, throwing his head back into the bed. He clenches and unclenches his fists where they sit as Cas’s knuckles run down his inner thigh. He tries to shake the angel off by just how unbearable it is to dig a knot out, but Cas holds him with an iron grip. He trembles, but doesn’t dare kick the angel away. It hurts, it hurts so bad when Cas drags his thumb over a certain spot but it feels so good.

“I really should have come with you,” Cas comments.

“It’s fine.”

Only by sheer force is Dean able to grit words out through grinded teeth. He knows damn well he should’ve brought Cas along for the ride on the most recent one. It would have made things go a lot smoother and a damn lot less stressful when his little brother is being hanged upside down by his foot with five witches poking at him with sticks. It was a mess. The entire job was a mess, and it had left Dean drained. He just really hopes that Sam doesn’t come looking for him because he really needs this. By God, does he need this.

After Cas deems the second leg done, it’s only then that he touches Dean’s soft cock. The hunter hisses, jerking away at how sensitive he is but all in the same thought, he wants Cas to touch him harder, firmer. And the angel does just that. He jerks Dean’s messy cock to full attention again before he touches his own. He wipes Dean’s cum and the lube over his cock and by God, the hunter can’t look away. He’s never been one to let things get messy but right now it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Cas drizzles a little more lube on Dean’s puckered hole before resting the head of his cock against it. He isn’t gentle when he pushes in, not like he was with all that massaging crap before. He pushes almost half of his cock in before pulling out slowly to only sink further in the second time round. Dean shakes and whines as Cas is quick to bottom out inside of him. Balls flush to his ass and all six inches inside, Dean feels every bit.

He pants in time to Cas’s thrusts, quickly finding pleasure in the abuse that the angel is giving him. But it’s what he wanted. What he asked of the angel beforehand. It’s what caused the five-hundred-mile stare from said angel and nearly caused him to fall into cardiac arrest.

He pants loudly, keeping his hands above his head as Cas had silently requested. He really hopes that Sam isn’t on this side of the bunker because the noises that are coming from him are borderline whore-ish. Trembling with each thrust, Cas brings Dean’s hips back to his with a firm grip on his waist. The wet clap is overpowered by Dean’s breathless moans that have a shiver running down the angel’s back.

Deam brings his cuffed hands in front of him suddenly, to try and curl in on himself as he nears another orgasm. But a hand is quick to grab at the belt to pull Dean’s arms up over his head, startling him a bit. Cas doesn’t stop his brutal pace, pulling and pushing a thigh so that Dean’s knee is nearly touching his chest. The new angle has the hunter grunting and panting with each thrust, his eyes squeezed shut as he teeters at the edge of his second orgasm. He can already tell that this one is going to be painful.  

It’s Cas leaning down and engulfing his lips in a wet kiss that has him coming for the second time that night. He gasps into the kiss and the angel delves in deeper, his tongue venturing into Dean’s mouth. He shakes and trembles in Cas’s touch, every nerve feeling like it’s on fire. He wraps his legs around the angel’s waist to hold him closer to him. He continues to keep a slowly, shallow pace that drives Dean insane. His brain feels like mush but… it’s still not enough.

Dean kisses back breathlessly, trying to capture air back into his lungs. He hooks a foot into the front of Cas’s waist after two failed attempts, his limps feeling like jelly. He pushes Cas away and the angel is easy to do so with no protest. He looks down at Dean with furrowed brows. He expects the hunter to call it quits. Enough is enough for tonight. But Dean flips himself over, face in the bedding with his cuffed hands above his head and his ass in the air.

“Don’t stop,” Dean’s voice comes muffled from the blanket. “I just- Cas, I need you to keep-“ He exhales shakily, still coming down from his second high.

Cas reaches out and massages Dean’s right cheek. The hunter flinches, groaning into the bed.

“I’ll keep going until you ask me to stop,” Cas says as his hands venture up and down Dean’s back. He does the same as he did with the hunter’s front, massaging and digging his knuckles into the knotted muscle. He does this until Dean is breathing heavily into the bed, body shaking with every touch. The angel can’t see, but there’s tears dampening the sheets under the hunter’s face.

The angel re-enters Dean slowly as he continues massaging the hunter’s scarred body. He’s slow and gentle, keeping his pace even as he does so.

A while goes by before Dean orders him to pick up the pace, his voice muffled in the blankets. He drags his hands underneath him, the blood circulation being cut off with how he was angled. He shudders a breath as Cas does as he’s asked, holding onto Dean’s waist as he fucks into him harder. A groan is punched out of Dean with each thrust that’s muffled by the blankets. He becomes a limp mess, the only thing holding him up being Cas’s tight hold on him.

He shakes and moans, panting and whining with each sensitive and painful thrust from Cas. It hurts. Everything burns from being used for far too long. But he just needs a little more. He doesn’t need another orgasm. He doesn’t crave it. Just the act itself of the pain and pleasure, of being used, is enough to melt his brain. He needs all thoughts to be jumbled. He doesn’t want to think.

The angel suddenly tremors, his breath hitching in his throat as he thrusts in deeply. He comes silently, the only noise being the heavy panting and breathing coming from the angel. Dean groans as Cas fucks himself through his own orgasm, using his own cum to ease the burning friction. He doesn’t stop, despite feeling Dean shaking beneath him.

Dean turns his head so that he can peer at Cas from the corner of his eye. His head is bowed, hair falling over his forehead as he concentrates on Dean. And only Dean. The hunter grinds his teeth at the thought, burying his face into the bedding once more.

He lets Cas use him until Dean can’t take it anymore. Until everything burns and until a third, dry orgasm is ripped from Dean that shakes his body. Everything becomes too much. His cock hurts and each movement from Cas is like sand paper.

“St- nah, stop.”

Dean voice is all but a whisper, but Cas hears it all the same. The angel stops instantly, letting Dean fall onto the bed with a shaky exhale coming from the hunter.

Cas is quick to reach under Dean and unbuckle his belt from his wrists, throwing it aside without a second thought. He flips Dean onto his side gently, looking the hunter over with thin lips. Bleary, hazy green eyes stare back at him before a cocky grin comes across his face. It’s faint, but it’s there. One that has Cas returning.

“Would you like me to heal you?” Cas asks softly, his voice still gruff and deep.

Dean swallows thickly, licking his dry lips. “Lemme just lay here for a bit.”

Cas nods before wandering off. Dean closes his eyes shut, concentrating on his breathing. He can’t think of anything. His body shakes and everything is oh so sensitive, but it’s probably the best he’s felt in months. He doesn’t even think he can stand let alone sit up right now. Doesn’t even feel like he can raise an arm, nor does he even want to. He’s lost track of time and damn be if Sam has been looking for him. He just needs a good nap after this now. He feels like he could sleep for days.

The bed dips again and Dean hisses softly as a cold, damp face cloth begins to clean him up. He lets Cas do his thing, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at him. When he feels the angel leave the bed, a sudden strike of panic washes over him.

“Stay,” he all but mumbles out, or may as well whined by the way his own voice sounded in his ears.

The bed dips again and a calloused hand runs down over his side, ghosting over the purple bruise. “Are you sure?”

Dean’s features furrow deeply. He reaches out blindly and grabs onto Cas’s knee. “I said stay,” he grumbles out.

He hears the angel chuckle softly. “Okay.”

-

Like, comment and reblog. Hope you enjoyed :)

[ghoastixx]

hey, hi, um hello? I don't know what to do so I'm just guessing, if this is to vague, weird and or long I'm sorry please ignore it!!!

I wanted to try to request a supernatural Castiel x reader either fic or head cannons or anything really with a reader whose the Winchesters sister? This may be to specific but my favorite trope when I was a kid was the fake dating. So maybe the Winchesters are working with a different hunter who's kind of a creep and keeps flirting with reader and he won't back off despite the brothers warnings. So in the end Dean just calls Cas and is like congratulations you're dating my sister, now get him to back off! And so the two of them just start fake dating but after the hunt and the other hunter leaves Cas doesn't stop treating her all sweet and everything? I don't know, just something fluffy please, I think I made it way to complicated 😭😭 sorry for bugging you

Winchester Sister w/ Castiel

synopsis above

notes: YOU ARE NOT BOTHERING ME AT ALL!!!! I think this is so cute and just..so Cas? If that makes sense.. Thank you so so much for sending me this request, I love detailed requests!

Author's notes: Female reader, sort of sassy. Made up a hunter to be the creep, wanted to do Gordon but that would just make you a victim </3

Tried to keep the description of the reader vague so anyone can enjoy.

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The Winchesters' figured it would be so simple. The hunt was so simple, so why wouldn't drinks afterwards be? Mason, the hunter that was helping you all out and it went smooth, despite your brother's grudge against working with other hunters. Mason offered to take you all out for drinks. That's now where you were.

The first ick was when Mason sat next to you at the bar. You figured he was just trying to be friendly, you had just hunted together after all! But then he ordered you a drink which made you feel weird, but again, he was probably just trying to be nice. So you put on a smile and thank him.

"You really pulled your weight back there Y/N." He said, taking a drink of a beer.

"Oh- uh- thanks?"

"I like that in a woman."

"Excuse me-"

Dean, who was watching closely, was fuming. You tried to explain that you were not looking for a boyfriend currently, but he just wasn't listening. He wasn't leaving you alone. So, when Sam came back with drinks for both he and Dean, Dean looked at him and pointed this out. Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable with this, but suggested to let you handle yourself. You were more than capable and you all knew that.

When nothing had changed five minutes later and you started to look like you wanted to kill Mason, Dean decided to call out the big guns..

"Hello?" The solemn voice of the angel spoke a bit loudly through the phone.

"Yeah, Cas, listen. It's important, get here. We're at a small bar in Minnesota at exactly 777 boulevard Road."

With the sound of a flutter, Castiel was standing in front of Dean. "What's wrong?" Dean pointed behind him. Castiel turned around when Dean put his hands on Castiel's shoulders, getting close to his ear.

"Congratulations feathers, you're dating my sister. Now, see that guy right there? He's being a creep to your lady, go and kick his ass." Castiel, confused, nodded. He stood there a minute before walking in your direction. Sam looked at Dean, who had his arms crossed.

"Yeah, sick 'em boy!" Sam teased Dean, Dean looked at him with a pissy expression.

You were deep in your third beer, biting your tongue as you listened to Mason ramble on about his tastes. You were getting close to losing your temper before you heard a monotone voice behind you, you recognized it. It made you cock a brow,

"Y/N, I'm sorry that I'm late...dear." The nickname confused you, but nonetheless, you sat up straight and smiled at him.

"Cas," Once you acknowledged him, he put his hand around your waist. You looked at him with a more confused expression than you had before you seemingly got the hint. "Oh- that's alright honey. Don't worry about it. Cas, this is Mason. He just helped us with the hunt."

Mason looked at his competition with an annoyed expression. "And you are?"

"Castiel," The angel hummed, "her boyfriend." His eyes were stern, it made Mason squirm a bit. Seemingly a bit insecure because he stood up.

"I have to go. Bye Y/n." He mumbled before sulking out of the bar. You looked at Castiel, getting up.

"God- thank you Cas. You're a lifesaver." Cas's smile seemed a bit shy, which was unusual for the stern angel. He nodded. As you went to your brother's, he followed you, staying rather close.

As Dean and Sam talked to you about Mason, asking if you were okay, Castiel seemed more interested in you. Admiring you.

Whenever you guys decided to leave, Castiel actually got into the backseat with you, sitting directly next to you. He put his hand pretty close to yours, grazing against it. Dean noticed this in the rearview mirror, cocking an eyebrow.

Castiel was standing in front of the motel door, looking at you.

"So.. will I see you tomorrow?" A cheesy smile formed on your face, your cheeks a bit pink.

"Yeah Cas, I would love to.. Goodnight."

Dean groaned as he walked past.

"Cas, you know you're not actually dating Y/N, right?" he asked with a scoff.

"I'm not?" "He's not?"

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 1: Angst with a happy ending

,,Me too." | @tami-ryver

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1,748

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Hunt Gone Wrong, Werewolves, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Major Character Injury, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Angelic Grace (Supernatural), AngstAngst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blood, Fictober 2023

Summary: The silence is unbearable. Not even insects can be heard in the darkness, not even moon shines down on their path. The only source of light they have are the flashlights they took from the Impala. Armed with silver knives and the demon knife, they walk deep in the darkness of the forest, in search of the place where the massacre took place.

I Want You to Know That I'm Awake (I Hope That You're Asleep) | @starstiels

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2,192

Main Tags/Warnings: depressed!dean (heavily implied), post-canon, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, first kiss, selectively mute dean, mental health issues, panic attack

Summary: Dean Winchester wants to cry. He wants to scream and yell and sob until his lungs give out and his eyes sting like needles.

The Covert Identity (WIP) | @rowanspn

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,623 (22,561 updated)

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Florist Castiel (Supernatural), Crime Boss Lucifer (Supernatural), Kid Fic, Kid Jack Kline, Blood and Violence, Graphic depictions of violence

Summary: Dean Winchester loves his job; working as a secret agent has its perks. There is nothing quite like the thrill of saving people and hunting down criminals. And with his baby brother Sammy at his side, it’s a family business. However, when he and Sam are assigned to the case of Lucien Shurley, a suspected crime lord with a rap sheet a mile long, Dean’s semi-predictable life takes a turn for the unprecedented and over complicated. He and Sam must go undercover to investigate Lucien’s own family, his brothers Gabriel and Castiel, and his young son, Jack, to find out just how involved they truly are. As the stakes rise and the body count follows, it is up to Sam and Dean to solve the greatest mystery of their careers; who is Castiel Novak and what does he know?

he's gonna take my files | @autisticandroids

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,191

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Saves Cas from the Empty, Afterlife, Triangulation of Desire, Memories, Trauma, Hurt Cas, Canon Divergent, Canon Remix, Warnings in Author's Note

Summary: Dean goes to the Empty, where Cas is floating through his memories.

when doves cry | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6,821

Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Season/Series 09, Not Canon Compliant, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When Dean asks Cas to leave the bunker, all he can do is hope that the fallen angel is safe and doing okay. But when he reaches out to Cas to check in, he's surprised by the anger he's met with. Forced to consider whether or not he made the right call, Dean must reckon with how to fix things between him and the man he worries he may have lost forever.

Forest Fever | @amaranthhiding

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,586

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Post-Ep 12x10, Monster of the Week, Hallucinations, Injured Castiel, Protective Dean, (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Praying, Angel Grace, Humor (mostly in the epilogue)

Summary: After the crushing events of episode 12x10 "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets", Castiel is low on grace and morale. In an attempt to restore at least one of these two, Sam and Dean take him on a hunt. Things start going wrong when Sam gets injured and Cas seemingly disappears. They get worse when Dean turns from hunter to prey for something feeling far more at home in this dark, rainy forest than he does.

Send Me a Postcard | @blessyourhondahurley

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 10,387

Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel is Saved from the Empty, First Kiss, References to Depression, Bisexual Dean Winchester

Summary: Shortly after his rescue from the Empty, Cas hits the road late one night without telling anyone he's leaving. Two weeks later, a postcard arrives for Dean.

whisper your name without making a noise | @deancaskiss

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 12,577

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Muteness, Mute Dean Winchester, traumatic mutism, Mutism, Major Character Undeath, Dean Winchester to the Rescue, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel, Pining, POV Dean Winchester, Kissing, Boys Kissing, French Kissing, Rough Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Drinking to Cope, Drinking Alcohol, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Getting Together, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15, Fix-It, Character Death Fix, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, The Empty (Supernatural), the handprint, Dean Winchester's Jacket

Summary: Losing Cas to the Empty felt like Dean was losing a piece of himself. I love you, Cas had said; and then he was gone before Dean got the chance to tell Cas how he felt. But Cas might have taken more than just Dean’s heart when the Empty ripped him away. Cas is gone, and so is Dean’s voice. Traumatic mutism: according to Sam and Eileen, Dean had been through a traumatic experience losing Cas and now he was mute. So, Eileen taught Dean sign language, and Sam bought notebooks for Dean to write out his thoughts. But Dean never stopped aching for Cas; praying to him every day and searching for a way to bring Cas home. When Dean finds a way into Empty, it’s a fight like he’s never fought before. Scream, Dean, scream, the Empty taunts. But Dean can’t stop until he’s rescued Cas, kissed his angel breathless, and told Cas the truth about how he feels—voice or no voice.

Taking one for the team | @artichokegarden

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16,846

Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stanford Era, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, Voyeurism, Kink Negotiation, Kink Discovery, Praise Kink, BDSM, Spanking, Whipping, Bath Sex, Hair Washing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Abusive John Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, POV Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Porn with Feelings

Summary: Cas blinked slowly. “Your father sent you to his friend’s sex club as bait for a sex monster. And you want me to find your lost memories of this for you?”

“Don’t you start, Cas. We need to find out what happened, or those women are as good as dead. If I wanted to listen to a load of crap about dad’s parenting choices, I’d have told all this to Sam in the first place, instead of biting his head off for asking. Let’s just agree he wasn’t winning father of the year for this one and let it go, okay?”

When women start going missing from sex clubs, Cas investigates Dean's memories of a Stanford-Era case and finds some secrets there that could help their relationship in the present.

this bitter nightcall | @abi-cosmos

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 32,514

Main Tags/Warnings: Djinn curse, Jealous Dean Winchester, Hallucinations, Unreliable narrator, Heavy angst, Implied Castiel/Mick Davies, Inappropriate smut, Dean doesn't know what's real, Love confessions, Post-season 12, Very brief almost major character death, Hurt/Comfort, Case fic, True love's kiss

Summary: Dean gets touched by a djinn, but it's all cool. Or, is it?

Forced to confront his desires, Dean's grip on reality slips. Leaving Castiel, Sam, and Mick Davies trying to find a way to save him before it’s too late.

If only they knew that the cure is right in front of them.

Gracefully Yours, Always | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 39,815

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode: S09E10, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Temporary Blindness, Angelic Grace, Hurt Dean

Summary: As Dean hopelessly waits for Gadreel and Crowley to be expelled from Sam’s body, he and Castiel are unexpectedly ambushed by Malachi and the remainder of his soldiers, seeking retribution for what Castiel has done to his faction. Because Castiel gets gravely injured in the fight, Dean resists the urge to isolate himself, and instead returns to the bunker with his friend and Sam, determined to put an end to the fallen angel madness, and also, perhaps, try to understand why, after everything he’s done, Castiel still stands by his side.

Still Waters Run Deep | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 41,168

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent After s15e09 The Trap, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Castiel, Mark of Cain, Aquaphobia, Claustrophobia, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester

Summary: In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak.

It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood.

In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate.

Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

When I Knew You | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 54,272

Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Time Travel, Bartender Dean Winchester, Editor Castiel, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Incorrect Science, Social Anxiety, Sharing a Bed

Summary: Shortly after moving into his new house, Dean Winchester finds a strange, flickering light in the middle of his living room. When he touches it, he’s transported two years into the past, to the days when a man named Castiel Novak lived in the house.

Dean’s own time pulls him back eventually, but the gateway to the past keeps appearing, and Dean keeps visiting Cas — sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. They soon fall in love, but there is no possible future for them, for one simple reason: in a few weeks, Cas is supposed to die.

As the date of Cas’ death draws closer, will Dean be able to save his life? And if he does… will the two of them find a way to be together in the same time?

On the flip side | Joysprings (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 64,357

Main Tags/Warnings: Lgbtq, Polyamorous characters, Blood and Injury, Time Jumps, Neurodivergence, Autistic Castiel, Emotional Abuse, Pilot Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Grief and Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Domestic Destiel, Dean and Cas are dad's, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending I Promise,

Summary: A little over a year after airforce test pilot Dean Winchester's plane crashes and goes missing, its finally found. Castiel Winchester, Dean's widowed husband reflects on his grief and his memory re visits the most significant points of their relationship throughout their time together and how they shaped the present. The whole family is left to deal with the resurfaced trauma from the initial accident, and will finally learn about what truly happened, uncovering new and unexpected answers. This is their journey.

(Story will alternate chapters from the present to past time stamps)

the weight of your bones | Chi_Yagami (Ao3)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 66,780

Main Tags/Warnings: afterlife, soulmates (sort of), canon divergent, hunter Dean Winchester, human Castiel, kid Jack Kline, angst with a happy ending, touch-starved, flashbacks/discussions of death, panic attacks

Summary: After rescuing his brother's fiancée from a house fire he doesn't survive, Dean Winchester finds himself in Heaven. He's immediately suspicious—after all, with everything he's done during his time on Earth... there's no way he deserves to be here. He lives in a beautiful neighborhood right down the street from his parents, in an amazing house that he shares with his new soulmate, Cas—a man Dean's never even met. Despite Dean's best efforts to keep his distance, Cas seems determined to make their new relationship work in the afterlife.

However, Cas doesn't understand... he isn't aware of Dean's past. Cas doesn't know that all Dean's good for is destroying relationships and ganking monsters. Cas doesn't know that Dean once got an innocent civilian killed on a case, doesn't know of the cave that haunts Dean's dreams. People are made of memories they bury or live by, and Dean chose to bury his a long time ago.

But as Cas chips away at Dean's resistance... the once-forgotten bones begin to surface.

When Tomorow Comes | @teeparadigm67

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 78,994

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Lots of Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty (kind of), Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean Winchester is Saved, First Time, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, Dean Winchester in the Empty, First Kiss, The World is Saved, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester's Taste in Music, Sharing a Bed, Frottage, Men of Letters Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Happy Ending, Alternate Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15

Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they're already were too late.

Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark.

All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten.

The Unbroken | @casblackfeathers

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 126,551

Main Tags/Warnings: zombie apocalypse, bed sharing, hurt and comfort, angel castiel, protective dean, soft dean, endverse, bamf castiel, bottom dean

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

Fortunate Son (WIP) | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 128,610

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Vietnam War, Character Death (but no MCD), Blood and Injury, Counterculture, Recreational Drug Use, Mutual Pining, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Period-Typical Homophobia, Coming Out, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Getting Back Together, Suicidal Thoughts

Summary: The year is 1966, the place is Kansas, and Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are falling in love. But with Castiel under the thumb of his conservative parents and Dean set to ship out to Vietnam, there is no possible future for them.

As Castiel’s life turns upside down and the hell of Vietnam threatens to swallow Dean’s soul, it will take everything they have to find their way back to each other. But some things are worth waiting — and fighting — for.

[profoundbondfanfic]

of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world

of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world by wincechesters Rating: Mature Word Count: 11k

They meet in a coffee shop, though not exactly the way you’d expect. In fact, nothing about Dean Winchester is what Castiel expects, especially when he claims to hunt the supernatural. In spite of Dean’s outrageous claims and Castiel’s firm belief that he is either lying, insane, or in a constant state of intoxication, they wind up in a somewhat unorthodox relationship, and Castiel finds himself being forcefully thrown into a world of demons and vampires and all manner of things that go bump in the night.

This fic poses the question: what would YOU do if you were a down-on-your-luck writer whose only goal is to scrape together enough money working at a coffee shop to make rent, and all you wanted to do was close up the shop so that you could go home, and then you were borderline held hostage by an attractive man who insists on putting salt in front of the doors and windows? If you don't have an answer to that question, well, you're not alone at least. But if your answer was "make conversation with him and offer him some coffee", then you're thinking along the same lines as Castiel.

Dean is a hunter on the run when he meets Cas, and though Dean insists that the supernatural world is real, Cas doesn't believe him. That doesn't keep him from starting an unconventional relationship with Dean through texts and phone calls. Over the next few weeks, Dean and Cas become closer, and when Dean swings back near town again, he and Cas make plans to meet. And that's when things become complicated.

I'm always a sucker for a fic where hunter!Dean maintains a correspondence with civilian!Cas via texts and calls. There's something wonderful about two people falling in love over a distance, and I'm always excited to see it in a fic. 💖

[youchangedmedestiel]

Suptober 2024 - Prompt: Sigils

This ficlet is called "Except Cas" and you can also find it on AO3 here.

"Dean." Cas starts, sitting back up as he breaks their kiss. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure." Dean says, studying him while he is laid down on the bed with the angel straddling his upper thighs.

"I'd like to change the sigils on your ribs to be able to find you when I want to." Cas admits, without looking at Dean, he focuses on his fingers tracing soft, random patterns on Dean's chest instead.

"What? Like adding an 'except Cas' at the end?" Dean asks jokingly.

"I searched for it and it's more complicated than that. Plus it might hurt so if you don't want to I understand." Cas still can't look at him, while minutes ago he was kissing him hungrily.

"No, no, I'm fine with that. I mean I'm not against you finding me easily, especially in case of emergency." Dean accepts, taking Cas's hand in his, which makes the angel look at him a bit astonished.

"It's useful not only for emergency you know." Cas smiles and Dean thinks this is a slight smirk so he definitely wants to know more.

"For what then?" Dean wonders curiously.

"I - I could hear your longing better." Cas confesses.

"Oh - oooh." Dean realizes. "That can come in handy." Dean jokes.

"Exactly." Cas answers, definitely smirking this time, and his hand slide down along Dean's ribs, on his stomach, to end up on the bulge in his boxer briefs. Cas strokes his length through the fabric and gets a groan from the man under him. “Handy.” Cas whispers against Dean’s lips, while his hand snakes under the fabric and takes him, loosely working with his fist around Dean’s length.

He doesn’t kiss him though, and Dean groans from frustration this time, but not for so long.

Cas takes Dean’s cock out of his boxer briefs and pours some lube in his hands. They work beautifully around it while Cas can’t stop looking at the hunter this time, studying every single one of his reactions. And he smirks again when he feels Dean’s hips trying to chase his hands with difficulty under his weight. So, he wipes one of his hand on the sheets and places it on Dean’s sternum to hold him down.

“Cas.” Dean moans and the angel can feel it resonating under his hand, the other still bobbing Dean’s cock. “Do it now.” Dean suggests between moans.

“Are you sure?” Cas hesitates because he knows this might hurt.

“Do it, Cas!” Dean orders, he is already so close. “Now!” Dean insists. So, Cas does as told. He changes the sigils on Dean’s ribs while still trying to make him fall over the edge.

Dean feels like his whole chest is tingling. It hurts and it's longer than last time because it's more complicated but that hand on his chest filling him with grace mixed with the feeling of Cas's hand working around is cock is too good. With the pain and the pleasure he feels, he reaches his orgasm while Cas’s eyes shine bright above him.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas worries, his eyes back to normal, but still with his usual unnatural shade of blue. Dean’s breath is still jerky but it’s slowing down. Cas cleans them both before Dean even realizes he needed to be. Then Cas lies down on the hunter, kissing his forehead. “Answer me, please.” He talks softly.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine. So is it done?” Dean asks, closing his eyes at the angel’s soft touches on his still oversensitive body.

“It is. I can now find you easily when you need me to.” Cas explains, kissing Dean’s lips tenderly.

“Great.” Dean sighs, relaxed.  

“You should do the same for Sammy.” Dean suggests, his eyes still closed. Then he realizes what he just said, when Cas stops kissing and stroking him softly, and opens his eyes widely, “Not the same same. But you know, the sigils thing.”

“I will, Dean.” Cas answers, smiling against his neck, then kisses and bites him there.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks, definitely not against what’s happening.

“I can hear your longing now. I know that you want me to fuck you and I attend to give you what you want.” Cas confesses, against Dean’s chest, licking his nipple on his way down. And Dean bites his lower lip in anticipation. “I love you too.” Cas responds to Dean’s longing and Dean pulls him up to kiss him again.

Thank you @wigglebox for that list of prompts and especially this one, it was really inspiring for me, I do have another idea in my drafts for sigils.

[ladylilithprime]

Day 4: Birthday

SAM WINCHESTER WAS just about to turn twenty-four when he was abducted by a Prince of Hell and thrown into a death tournament which he did not survive because he refused to kill another psychic human kid like him. He was just turned twenty-five the day his brother's deal to bring him back from the dead came due and Dean was dragged to Hell by the hellhounds. His twenty-sixth birthday was the last thing on his mind the day he went to kill Lilith to stop the Apocalypse only to learn too late that her death was the Final Seal to break and ensure that Lucifer walked free. And he was only just twenty-seven when his love for Dean helped him wrench control of his body back from a Fallen Archangel and drop them both into the Cage to be sealed away again, Michael and Adam dragged along for the ride when the eldest Archangel tried to stop him.

Sam's reckoning of his birthday got a lot more fuzzy after that point, what with his soul trapped down in the Cage while his body wandered around for a year and a half without him. Dean had once confessed to a similar disorientation regarding his own age, particularly the question of whether or not to count the four months spent dead verses the forty years his soul spent in Hell. He hadn't felt much like celebrating what should have been his thirtieth birthday in the middle of the Apocalypse, and neither of them had paid much attention to birthdays in the years since then.

So it was a bit of a jolt when Dean came up to Sam and clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Well, Sammy, the big three-oh! What'cha wanna do for it?"

"I don't," Sam said after a moment of floundering as he scrambled to identify what his brother was even talking about. "We didn't celebrate your thirtieth, so why bother with mine?"

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean almost whines, looking supremely uncomfortable. "I wasn't in a good place that time, you know that."

"Well I haven't been in a good place on my birthday for over five years now," Sam pointed out, just barely restraining the urge to snap. He saw the moment Dean, thinking back, actually remembered what had been happening on or around Sam's birthdays for the last several years. "Yeah. There's a lot of anniversaries sharing the date that I don't feel like celebrating."

Dean had backed off after that, for which Sam was grateful. He didn't think he could have actually admitted to Dean's face that one of the reasons he didn't feel like celebrating was because he couldn't see a point in celebrating the birth of Lucifer's Vessel, Azazel's favorite, the demon-blooded abomination he had once tried to convince his young parents not to even conceive.

HE SHOULD HAVE known that wouldn't be the end of it.

"Okay, so the actual day has some bad memories attached that make it awkward for you to celebrate on, I get that," Dean said when he ambushed Sam in the library of the Bunker, startling Sam and causing Castiel to look up curiously. "So what if we pick a date, like, two weeks after that without any of those negative associations and make that your new birthday to celebrate?"

"Dean," Sam groaned in protest, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I really don't care enough to celebrate at all, regardless of the date!"

"Are birthdays something important in your culture to celebrate?" Castiel asked, frowning in confusion when Dean said "yes" at the same time that Sam said "no".

"It's complicated, Cas," Sam sighed, ever the more patient one with explaining human things to their angel friend. "Birthdays and birthday parties mostly tend to be focused on young children or the elderly, marking another year surviving to reach adulthood or into advanced age. Many people also use it as an excuse to solicit gifts from others, or even just an excuse to have cake and ice cream."

"Wow, cynical much?" Dean grumbled, holding up his hands when Sam glared at him. "But see, that's kinda my point. I know we didn't celebrate my thirtieth, but it's not like hunters tend to live very long once they start hunting!"

"Hunters also tend to be less inclined to celebrate their birthdays with more than a shot or six at a bar," Sam pointed out with a roll of his eyes. "Not my idea of a good time."

"Would you prefer cake and ice cream?" Castiel asked with a curious tilt of his head.

"I'd prefer not to even bother," Sam muttered. When Castiel continued to look at him expectantly, he sighed and said, "Look, whether by accident or design on the part of any number of beings, my birthday just... really isn't a good day, and the surrounding days aren't much better. Too many 'end of the world' situations cropping up on or around it, and even when we were kids about the only person who bothered marking it was Dean. I don't know why he's so eager to celebrate this year, especially after practically snapping at me to ignore his own, but I'd just as soon not."

"I see," Castiel said in a measured tone that immediately put Sam on edge. Before he could say anything or even pray for Castiel to stop, the angel said evenly, "You do not believe that your existence is worth celebrating."

Sam got up from the table, ignoring Castiel's penetrating gaze and Dean's stricken one, and left the library.

IT WAS CASTIEL who found him hiding in his room later. The angel who was most used to bypassing thresholds to fly directly into whichever room the person he sought might inhabit showed a marked restraint and consideration for personal privacy and boundaries by knocking lightly on the door and waiting for Sam's mumbled "come in" before nudging it open enough to enter. "Hey, Cas."

"Sam," Castiel returned, coming to a stop just inside the door, as if unsure of how far he should enter the room. "I apologize if I misspoke earlier."

"You didn't," Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I mean, I kinda wish you hadn't said it in front of Dean, but it is what it is and it's not like you were wrong."

"Much like Dean, you do not wish to burden your brother with the pain you carry inside yourself," Castiel murmured. "Sam... are you so resistent to celebrating your birth and continued existence because Dean has refused to celebrate his own?"

"That's... part of it," Sam acknowledged. He didn't really want to get into all the reasons he felt that celebrating his birthday was a worthless and frankly inappropriate endeavor, not with Castiel and not when he knew the number of birthdays he even had left to him once the Trials were complete would be numbered zero. That was definitely a conversation he wasn't ready to have, though, so he refocused. "I mean, celebrating my birthday while ignoring his? That's like some weird double standard of favoritism, and I don't want to encourage that crap."

"I see," Castiel hummed thoughtfully. "Sam? What is the significance to turning thirty years old?"

"Not much," Sam answered with a half-shrug. "It's a decade marker, a big round number that makes it slightly more significant to reach than just counting one year after another. Thirty, forty, fifty... it's more of a minor milestone than anything else, at least until around sixty-five or so."

"Then perhaps Dean would accept a compromise," Castiel suggested. "Dean will be turning forty in five years and eight months. If he will agree to allow you to celebrate that day, perhape you might agree to allow him to celebrate your fortieth birthday when it comes to pass?"

It was so like Castiel to try and find a compromise for them like this, and Sam didn't have the heart to admit to the angel why he knew it wouldn't happen.

"Sure, Cas," he said instead. "If Dean'll let me make a big fuss for him on his fortieth birthday, I'll let him celebrate however he wants for mine."

"May I inform Dean of the suggestion and your agreement?" Castiel asked, and left Sam's room when Sam nodded, presumably to go find Dean. Oh, well. Hopefully Castiel wouldn't be too disappointed when Sam didn't make it to summer.

THE GRANITE STONE bore the name "Dean Campbell" and the inscription "There'll be peace when you are done," along with Dean Winchester's birth year and only the most recent date of death. It had been very tempting to put down every single date that Dean had died in a column marching down the stone, but that would have raised too many eyebrows in the public cemetery. As it was, the plot was small and held a ceramic urn with the salted ashes left behind after the hunter's funeral Dean had been given. The other side of the stone remained blank, a stark testament to the fact that the space beside Dean remained unoccupied by a matching urn and with no sure plan of when it would be filled.

Sam slowly let out the breath in his lungs and crouched down before the headstone, absently clearing away a few weeds that were trying to grow up over the base. He didn't speak; there was nothing left to say that hadn't been said in a barn surrounded by beheaded bodies. No point, either, since he knew there was no one listening... no one he wanted to hear him.

With a hand that only shook a little, Sam set an empty shot glass in front of the engraved words and filled it with cheap whiskey from an old metal flask. A matching shot glass was lifted and filled, and then Sam set aside the flask and clinked his shot glass against the one waiting.

Happy birthday to me, he thought with a sad, wistful little smile. He picked up the other shot glass and poured it out over the grass where he knew the urn was buried as he downed his own shot, closing his eyes against the burn that was more from tears than alcohol.

"Sam," a soft voice called from behind him. Sam stiffened and twisted around, wondering who the hell would approach him in a cemetery and say his name like that--

His breath caught.

The vessel was different. Whether that was because the body of Jimmy Novak had been taken directly from Earth by the Empty or some other reason, it was not that familiar face and frame standing before him. Not even that stupid tan overcoat remained after that. The dark hair was similar, as were the blue eyes, but everything else was different. Softer and thinner and more like that one vessel he remebered being described from a trip back in time. And yet Sam couldn't help but recognize Castiel in the woman standing there, from the strong posture and curiously tilted head to the faint shadow of wings hovering behind her shoulders.

"Dean wishes for me to apologize for him that he cannot be here to celebrate with you," the angel said softly, reaching out a hand and helping Sam to his feet when he took it automatically. "He hopes that I will make an acceptable substitute and birthday gift." A pause, and then, awkwardly, Castiel added, "I was given a bow to put in my hair if you wish."

Sam snorted, helplessly, and then with the dam broken he dissolved into helpless laughter and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. Not the brother who had promised to celebrate with him, but the angel who had made that promise happen. Substitute, no, but gift? He'd take it.

And he swore he would keep this gift for as long as he could.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 24

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: mentions of child endangerment and abuse

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: next couple of chapters are gonna delve into Henry's past, so hopefully I can get them out on time since I don't really have to follow a timeline.

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“I guess this is as good a time as ever to tell you,” Henry sighed as he sat on their breakfast nook table. “I think it's best if you sit down, kid.”  

“Absolutely not,” Rebecca interjected. “We agreed, Henry. It is not the right time.”  

“Not the right time?” the man exclaimed. “She is begging us for answers. I won't keep lying to her anymore. I've done what you wanted for long enough. (Y/N) knows the truth, and she knows it today.”  

Henry and Rebecca shared a menacing stare. Each was testing to see what lines would be crossed and weighing who would be the one to break the pact they had made close to eighteen years before. The woman could see her husband's resolve strengthening as the seconds passed. He was going to tell their daughter everything, and he was going to do it now.    

Henry Argent had been raised to hate the supernatural. From a young age, he had been trained and conditioned to hunt the dangerous creatures that threatened the existence of humans. And he truly believed it was the right thing to do. Being brought up by a man like Gerard Argent did not give much space to believe it was us against them.  

Months after turning twenty-five, his father sent him on a solo mission to Maine on a covert hunting mission disguised as an arms deal. Gerard had wanted to send Chris, but his recent marriage to Victoria and subsequent hunter training had the younger man's entire focus. It was no secret that the man favored his two younger children, always had. The evidence was in the time he invested, in the trust he bestowed upon them, and in the cases he threw their way. But that didn't stop Henry from trying his hardest to get on his father's good graces, even if the old man did not care for it. Maybe he had known who his son was long before he'd had the chance to figure it out.  

That was the moment he crossed paths with Rebecca Maynard, the oldest daughter of a fellow hunter family. They had seen each other in passing, mostly in group training, but had never gotten close enough to share a word. And since every mission needed a matriarch, and since she was of close age, she had been chosen to lead the assignment.  

On the flight to Maine, his home state, Rebecca sat next to him. She was cordial enough but nothing to write home about. They mostly spoke about their mission. The werewolf pack they were hunting had allegedly been responsible for the deaths of five people so far in the town of Fort Kent, and it was rumored more were to follow. The hunters had been on high alert by the brutality of the murders—people found with their chests slashed deep enough that only one creature would be able to do it. At least, that's what they had been told.  

Henry didn't think much of Rebecca then. She was attractive, smart, and charismatic enough, but simply not for him. She was the kind of girl he could see himself spending the night with, maybe a couple of months of a relationship, but anything past that was a cruel joke. One cosmically cruel joke.  

Stepping foot in Maine felt like coming home. He had spent less than five years there, but something about the place called to him. It had started as a small rumbling in the pit of his stomach when he was across the country but quickly turned into an unrelenting tug that pulled him there, especially to the town of Allagash. Odd, given that he was born almost six hours away in Westbrook and had never stepped foot that far north in the state.  

Yet, he did not speak of this need to go north. Instead, he settled with his team of hunters in the Argent property in Westbrook—a well-equipped and opulent home that kept appearances, just like the Argents knew to do.  

“Alright,” Rebecca said as she laid out a map of Maine on the dinner table. “We are around five hours away from Fort Kent, give or take. As of now, there have been no more reports of attacks. It seems after our little werewolf friends raged six weeks back, they've been satiated. But there have been reports from our sources that a pack has been seen around the area.”  

“How can we be sure it's them?” a rookie hunter asked. “I mean, it's not like they'd be walking around claiming the murders, right?”  

“That's why we're here, Joseph,” she retorted as she rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow, we leave at 0600 hours for Fort Kent. I have a contact that's gotten us a hideout with all the necessary equipment to make them talk. If their information is good, we should find this pack hiding out in the Lonesome Pine Trails. Now, we know they may be violent, so if you see one that you cannot subdue, shoot to kill.”  

The words fell so easily out of her mouth, Henry thought then. She was speaking about another person's life, but she valued it no more than an animal for hunting. He had been raised the same way as her, yet it had always made him uneasy to take someone's life. Maybe that's why his father had never trusted him to be more than the face of Argent weaponry. He was a good businessman but a terrible hunter—morality didn't pair well with murder, it seemed.  

“Ready to go, Argent?” Rebecca asked, breaking him out of the trance he had fallen into since the night before. “I need you on top of your game today. I don't need to remind you that your father is paying real close attention to what happens here.”  

“Don't need the reminder,” he sighed as he gulped the last of what was left of his coffee. “If I didn't know any better, he's hoping everything goes to shit to finally bench me.” 

“Then don't give him a reason to,” she smiled. “Show him you're worth more than he gives you credit for. You're a great hunter, Henry. You just need to get out of your head.”  

“Right,” he said. “It's that easy. Just get out of my head.”  

But it was hard to do when he had a bit over five hours of driving to do by himself. Well, he was fine for the first three hours of the trip. He had popped an audiobook into his radio and had been able to tune out his thoughts for the first half of the book. It had been just what he had needed to clear his mind and focus on the fictitious narrative rather than the strange happenings his brain had concocted.  

Yet, the closer he got to the north, the less he could concentrate on the words being read to him. There was an invisible pull that wanted him to stray off the path. He followed the trail of black SUVs up the highway, but as the minutes passed, the need to veer off track was almost unbearable. They were already so close to Fort Kent, only a few more minutes, and the job could be done. Then, he was just a plane ride away from Washington and the admiration of his father. Just a few minutes and the distraction would stop.  

The cars took the exit to the town, a message appearing on Henry’s phone. They were only two minutes away from their destination. Just a right and a left after taking the exit, and they’d arrive. All he had to do was follow instructions and catch the pack that was causing a disturbance. That’s all. Follow instructions and win his father’s acceptance.  

Follow instructions. Just follow the instructions.  

But as the last SUV in front of him turned, he continued driving when it was his turn. He shouldn’t have; he knew that. But the pull was too strong. It made his muscles tighten, and his joints lock up. Taking the exit like he was supposed to would have been excruciatingly painful. He didn’t know how he knew that, but something deep inside him told him it would.  

His phone flashed with message after message, call after call, but he ignored them all. He pressed his foot on the gas and didn’t look back. That was the moment he noticed his GPS hadn't even been programmed to Fort Kent. Allagash Wilderness Waterway, the screen read. Henry didn't remember ever writing that, but he also didn't remember writing the correct coordinates, either. Hell, he didn't even recall touching the machine at all. Yet, he didn't question why he was driving three more hours to the forest. The man simply kept driving.  

The magnetism grew the less distance that stood between him and the woods. He'd only gone to the Allagash wilderness once when he was younger. His father had taken Chris and him there on a supposed camping trip. He had been fifteen and his brother just shy of twelve—Kate was only a couple of weeks old. The kids had been excited to spend time outdoors with their dad. With a baby at home, everything had come to a standstill with their training, all the focus set on crying Kate. They rarely had any bonding time, given their father's job either way, but it was one of the only moments they thought they could share with the Argent patriarch. But Gerard wasn't planning to spend a weekend with his kids by the campfire, singing and having fun. 

No, he had something else in store. 

The second they had arrived at the site, the man told his children to unpack the car. They each had a backpack they had packed, a tent, a cooler, and their father's own duffel. When they were done, they turned to search for their father, excited to know what he had in store. Instead, they were met with Gerard locking the car doors and lowering his window.  

“It's time you boys learn how to survive on your own,” he had said. “In my bag, you have what you need to survive. All you gotta do is make it these seven days by yourselves.”  

“Dad, you can't be serious,” Henry had chuckled dryly. But the stoic stare in his father's eyes told him all he needed to know. “At least take Chris with you. He's too young.”  

“That boy is old enough because I say he is,” the man spat. “Now, it's your job as the oldest to make sure your brother survives, too. Do you hear me, Henry? If anything happens to Christopher, it'll be on your hands.”  

The older Argent boy wasn’t able to be anything but proactive—not when his brother needed him. He had rummaged through their bags, quickly setting up the tent and making an inventory of the supplies they had. They would be well fed for the night, but it was clear he would have to hunt, fish, and scavenge for other foods. Even with precise rationing, the food they had come with would not keep their energy at a maximum.  

Henry then used what was left of the sunlight to search for branches and tinder to build a fire for the night. The spot they were in wasn’t exactly a designated camping spot, and he couldn’t be sure what surrounded them. He had to work fast, fighting against the rapid decline of natural light. They only had two flashlights and no batteries to replace them. His father had said seven days, but he’d also said they would all spend the weekend together.  

“Come here, Chris,” he called to his terrified brother. “I’m gonna show you how to make a fire, okay? Tomorrow morning, we’ll go in search of water. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I don’t want to,” the younger boy had pouted. “Dad needs to come back. This is useless! We have money, Henry. Why would we ever need this shit?” 

“Whether we ever use this or not after this week doesn’t matter, Chris. Right now, we only have food for tonight, maybe tomorrow if we ration it well,” he explained sternly. “Dad is not coming back, do you hear me? You need to learn this because, like it or not, we have to survive here.”  

“We can get help,” Chris muttered as he crossed his arms in resignation. “Find some campsite near us and ask them to get us out.” 

“You really don’t know dad, huh?” he chuckled. “He probably has made sure there won’t be a soul for miles, Chris. You don’t know him like I do. He told us to survive the week. We won’t go home unless we do.” 

That night, Chris had cried for hours about going home. But by morning, he knew just how serious his father had been. And after two weeks, he learned how evil his father could be. 

During that time, Henry taught his brother how to hunt and fish, his to skin an animal and drain it of its blood, how to conserve meat for longer, how to conceal his tracks, and how to read nature to keep himself safe. In those fourteen days, the older boy learned and taught as he went. His knowledge of survival had been good enough to keep him and his brother safe. But not without casualties.  

When their father had returned, instead of receiving them with open arms and a congratulatory speech, his eyes went to Chris’ wounded arm. “I asked you for one thing, boy,” he spat. “You couldn’t keep your brother safe?”  

“Dad, no. He…” 

“Don’t defend him, Chris.” His eyes were red with fiery anger. He didn’t care that Henry had been hurt as well, a nasty gash from his face down to his upper arm. All he cared was that he had failed. “At least you were useful enough to keep him alive. Next time, he better come back home unharmed. I don’t need your mother’s nagging about him getting hurt. Am I understood?”  

“Whatever,” Henry had muttered under his breath as he walked past his father to the car.  

But Gerard stopped him by taking hold of his arm and squeezing unrelentingly. “What was that, boy?” he seethed. “The words out of your mouth better be “yes, sir,” or you might find yourself alone in these woods for far longer. So, you wanna say that again, boy? Are you going to make sure your brother doesn’t get hurt like he did this time?”  

“Yes,” the boy said through gritted teeth, “sir.”  

Chris had healed in a month, with barely a scratch left over as proof he had ever gotten hurt. Meanwhile, Henry was left with a scar that traveled from his neck to his arm. Thankfully, the cut on his face had healed, but he was left with a reminder of just how unimportant he was to his father. And it wouldn't be the last time the man would confirm it.  

As he neared the wilderness, the memories of that moment flashed in his mind. The scar started to itch, and he began to think maybe it was time to turn around. Still, he remained on the road, no longer following the GPS, but rather the aching in his joints. There was nothing that could guide him better than that invisible thread that pulled him to the woods.  

Henry came to a point where he couldn't drive anymore. It came down to pushing on with his SUV and risking damaging his only method of transportation or canceling it where he would find it if need be. The man was a hunter, and those woods were already second nature to him. Plus, he had the unmistakable inner guidance of whatever was calling him deeper into the forest. Maybe he was walking into a trap, but it was a chance he was willing to make.  

The man strapped his backpack on his back and a rifle on his arms and set off to follow the invisible path that his body was setting. Every step he took was sure, and there was no hesitation in any of his decisions. If he thought right, he turned right. If he thought left, he turned left. He had never walked to somewhere he didn’t know with so much confidence.  

With every foot he put of distance between himself and his car, Henry felt the pull getting stronger. He was going the right way, but he didn’t know why. What was waiting for him at the end of that invisible rope? Maybe someone had cursed him, and he was walking toward his death. Maybe he had finally lost his mind. But the maybes didn’t stop his stride. Henry kept going deep into the forest, following whatever it was that had brought him there. Deeper and deeper he went, forgetting his mission and forgetting his family. Whatever waited for him was his fate, and he would stop at nothing to follow it.  

Suddenly, he entered a remarkably quiet patch of land, and quiet in the woods meant danger. He set his backpack on the ground along with his rifle, pulling out instead his handgun from his belt loop. A branch snapped behind him, and he turned toward the sound. It wasn’t an animal running in fear—it was far too precise and calculated. Whoever was out there had chosen to break that branch to get him turned around.  

Without thinking twice, Henry turned back around in time to feel claws dig into his arms. The force of the person’s jump was enough to throw him to the ground, but not before he raised his arms to protect himself. His gun had been smacked from his hand, and all he had was his own strength to fight against whatever was attacking him.  

The strength and the claws of his attacker could only mean one thing. He was fighting a werewolf with nothing other than his strength, and he wouldn’t survive with that alone. The man knew he needed to get his gun back, one way or another.  

They stumbled on the ground as they fought for dominance, punches, and jabs thrown around blindly. It would be a fight to the death, and Henry had to make sure his prize was his life.  

“Henry?” the attacker said as they pinned him to the ground as though he weighed nothing. “Henry Argent?”   

When he finally looked up, Henry was met with a face he hadn’t seen in over a decade. “Raina,” he breathed. “Is that really you?”   

Next ->

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[deancas-stabfest]

This Blade for Hire

Author: @friendofcarlotta Artist: @xfancyfranart Rating: E Word Count: 20,011 Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Alternate Canon, Dean Stabs Cas, Ava Stabs Meg, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Human Cas Endgame

Summary

Dean Winchester is a demon hunter. And even though he doesn’t have fancy demon-slaying powers like Sam and Ava, he’s really fucking good at his job. But then he gets himself all tangled up with an angel named Cas, who’s on the run from Heaven and also in cahoots with a demon. Let’s just say Dean’s job is about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

Stickers:

[wanderingcas]

as i finish up the draft of my lighthouse fic, i want to start on something new before i get a “fic hangover” from it. results from this poll won’t be necessarily what i choose but i like to see what’s interesting to people. also fire off in the tags/replies if anything in particular sounds interesting because the more it’s talked about the more i tend to latch onto an idea lol

[scuttling]

Frayed Ends

Fandom: Supernatural Pairings: Dean Winchester/Female Reader Word Count: 1,527 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected sex, Mentions of impending death Summary: It's the end of the world again; where better to find comfort than Dean Winchester's arms? A/N: Sometimes Dean's just too pretty to ignore.

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Staring out the window of the battered old motel, looking into the darkening sky, you try to count the number of life-or-death situations you’ve been in in the last year. You’ve been mortally wounded in battle, only to be healed by angelic figures that don’t quite live up to expectations; possessed by demons who are surprisingly more forthcoming than their winged counterparts; ripped to shreds by creatures with claws and fangs, things that are both as terrifying as the stories say and so much more complicated than most people know. 

A loud crack of thunder booms, lightning splits the sky, and a warm hand presses firmly against the middle of your back. None of those things make you jump, not anymore.

“So,” Dean begins, reaching out to hand you a tumbler of whiskey—the good stuff, a high-dollar, top-shelf single malt. “Last night on Earth.” 

You take the glass from him and peer into into it, through the rich brown liquid, before sipping the liquor, letting it burn smoothly, slowly; it seems like an oxymoron, but precisely what you need now, in the eleventh hour, when it feels like the world is about to fall to ashes at your feet. Again.

“That line work for you often?” you ask, half-teasing, and you down the rest of the alcohol. A shrug of his shoulders and a cocked half-smile tells you all you need to know. "Right, of course. Apocalyptic situation plus a rugged, handsome man who did his very best to prevent our impending doom... I imagine it isn't ever hard for you to get laid, but it's gotta be damn near impossible to be turned down under conditions like these." 

He empties his own glass with a smack of his lips, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you, and smiles gently. It’s different from his usual grin, because it changes the look of his eyes, touching only the corners and making it appear as though it would physically hurt him to keep it up much longer.

He’s not being a creep, hitting on you when you’re vulnerable—you know because you know him, have been traveling the road off and on with him and Sam and occasionally Cas for over a year now. This is about desperation, a vain attempt to cling to something as your doomsday clock ticks down to zero, to connect with another person one more time before you reach the proverbial end of the road.

"You tell me,” he finally says, voice as rough and broken as you’d expect. You look away from his face abruptly, this open, emotional version of the man you’ve been kicking ass and trading sarcastic quips with making your stomach turn. He’s a good guy, no doubt about that, and he doesn’t deserve the life he’s been saddled with, or all the pain and misery that comes with it. He lived for his family, Sam, and now they are apart—no more angel teleportation, no more gas stations, no more cell service—and the end is so near you can see it in the darkening swirl of his green eyes, the tightness of his jaw.  

Apparently the booze hasn’t slowed down your motor functions any, because you’re turning to press a hand to his chest before the thought has fully formed in your mind. 

"I'd be honored, Dean Winchester," you breathe, pushing a hand softly through his hair; he inhales, lips parted and eyes flicking curiously over your face, before leaning down for a careful, gentle kiss. 

Both of his arms wrap around you, embracing you warmly, and you slip your tongue into his mouth, giving yourself over to his strong arms and stubble without a second thought. It isn’t exactly a hardship, sleeping with the brave, honorable, beautiful hunter, and if it makes him feel even a fraction better about the whole dying bloody thing, how can you refuse? 

"Thank you." It’s a sandpaper whisper pressed lightly against your lips, and one of his hands moves to cradle your head as the kiss deepens. He tastes bittersweet, a blend of mint and whiskey, and is far more tender than you would have imagined, taking soft sips of your bottom lip between toe-curling, passionate kisses. You push the light-colored flannel off of his shoulders, pleased with the muted groan he expels against your neck, and wrap your arms around his back like you can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of him. 

He lifts you easily, of course, like you’re as weightless as you’re starting to feel, brings you to the bed and covers your body with his, hands ghosting over your throat and your face, down your arms, over your chest, your sides. The kisses grow rougher, needier, deeper on both your parts, and when you pull the soft, worn t-shirt over his head you press your fingertips into his skin, drag him closer, body begging for more. 

“Dean… yes,” you sigh as he nips at your neck, your earlobe, his teeth sharp but careful. You move your hands over his stomach, his chest, the back of his head, pulling him to your mouth for more slow, wet kisses like you’ll find the solution to all of your problems inside him—or maybe that you want him to find it inside you. It’s a heady, dizzy feeling, and he feels it too, moaning into the kiss when you shift up to your knees, pulling your own t-shirt over your head. 

“I need you,” he rasps, looking over your body, with all of its scars and bruises, like it’s a map of all the places you’ve been together. You unhook your bra, let it fall away, and then unbuckle his belt, help him strip down before removing the rest of your clothes too. 

You feel a flush of heat when you’re both bare, not nervousness or shyness, but something you don’t have a name for, not yet; you probably never will, now so close to the end, so you just bask in the feeling that he’s all yours, that in your last moments you will be as connected as two people can be. That even if you die in vain, you won’t be dying alone. 

You’d ask about protection right about now, but don’t see the point, considering the circumstances; instead, you climb into his lap and weave your fingers into his hair, kiss him so thoroughly he has to know you’re doing this because you want to and not just because he’d asked. Your nails graze over his shoulders, into his hair, murmur his name, and his soft lips become hard and unyielding as he kisses you breathless, like he wants it to mean something.

He lays you back against the bed, still made up from the day, and you let him, pulling your knees up so he can settle in close to you, so you can feel his body tense beneath your hands and he presses into you, fills you completely. “Fuck,” he grinds out, and his mouth finds yours again, his kisses softer, sweeter as he starts to move. 

For the first time, you’re glad it’s pretty much just the two of you left in this desolate town; neither of you are quiet as you fuck, gasping and moaning and whining puffs of breath into the air between you. The sounds of your sex echo in the room—the groan of the bed frame, the sticky wetness soaking your thighs, Dean’s mouth as it runs about your beauty and your pussy and how heavenly you feel. 

The room is so hot, your skin slick with sweat, his too, and he takes your hands in his and presses them up over your head, against the bed, holding you down with the force of his body as you both chase the feeling that you’re close to something big.

“Oh god, more, Dean, please,” you plead, hitching your legs up higher, tightening them around him as he thrusts quicker, deep and smooth. “You’re so good, so good, Dean.” 

“You have to come for me. You have–” He lifts one of his hands away from your pinned wrists and strokes your cheek with it, brushing his thumb over your lips. His eyes are lighter now, honeyed, but still flooded with emotion as he combines tenderness with roughness and brings you so close to climax you can feel it pulsing beneath your skin. “You’re glowing,” he chokes out before his orgasm rips through him, strong enough to make him shake above you, and he leans in for a kiss that turns into your own climax, something powerful that makes you ache down to your bones. 

You whimper against his shoulder as he slows, and he releases your arms, pulls them around him so you embrace as you pant through it together. You feel both completely spent and filled with buzzing energy, and when he looks down at you his expression is… awed. There’s no way to mistake that face for anything else. 

“Holy shit. I think that worked,” he says, almost astonished, and then his phone vibrates on the bedside table and you turn simultaneously to look over at the glowing screen.

Sam.

A/N: Didn't mean for this fic to mean anything or to lead to anything more, but it kind of did, so who knows?

[username3469]

This is killing me so I’m shouting into the void and praying someone will answer. I’m trying to find this Destiel fic on ao3 I read a while ago that I should’ve saved but didn’t, so any help is appreciated!!

Here is a summary of everything I remember: Cas gets killed by the Empty (15x19) but Dean doesn’t die via rebar. Then cut to 10 years later, Cas somehow got out of the Empty and is fully human now. I think Jack got him out but I’m not sure? He finds Dean and discovers he’s married to a man (not a hunter and doesn’t know anything about Dean’s past with hunting). So now they have to navigate all these complicated feelings about the situation. Dean’s happy he’s back of course, tells him that years ago he tried to get him out but everything they tried failed. Also Cas has a little reunion with other characters like Sam, Eileen and Claire (there’s definitely more characters, I just can’t remember any). And that’s most of it I think?

If anyone thinks they know it please let me know the title or drop the link. I’d be so grateful!! 🥺🥺

[ghoastixx]

saw you were looking for Supernatural requests and I was wondering if you could do Castiel with a child reader who’s so picky about what they eat? Like they refuse to eat something that isn’t their comfort food? Please and thank you!

Castiel w/ a picky child GN!reader

notes: As someone who really really likes reading castiel interacting with a child, this makes me really happy. I am going to write Cas in more of the "I'm an angel of the lord." tone instead of the "Good morning!!🥰🌺" tone. But, who knows how it will turn out.

Synopsis above

My inbox is alway open.

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You were a nightmare during meal times, John used to say. Y/n Winchester was the youngest of Sam and Dean. When John died in that hospital, Y/n had only been a child. Now Y/n was older. Almost eleven.

Sam and Dean has raised Y/n, for the most part, so they were more used to things that the kiddo liked and didn't like. Most of that was influenced by shitty gas stations and diners.

Bobby always had a hell of a time getting the kid to eat. Everyone tried their best, they really did.. but it was difficult, and you would often get teased for being "picky." Even if it did hurt your feelings sometimes, you loved these people so you would never say anything about it.

You really liked Castiel for some reason. Your older brothers thought it was a little weird, I mean.. you usually didn't warm up easily to new people. It took at least four days to get you to even talk to another hunter if they had been working with one. But with Castiel? You seemed to just instantly like him. Sam joked it was because he was an angel, and in stories and older media, angels and children go hand in hand. Dean was just glad that you liked someone that wasn't your family.

At this point, with all the moving around and everything the boys had done, it was too dangerous to send you to school, so Sam "homeschooled" you when you had the time, but ever since Cas had showed up, you could be found asking him question after question about everything you were curious about. Castiel answered them, but he was confused. The young Winchester didn't bother him, he was intrigued more than anything.

An important hunt came up, a dangerous hunt. Sam and Dean really did not want you out on this mission. Usually they would dump you on Bobby during a time like this, but they needed Bobby's help on this hunt. They were okay with letting you stay by yourself, but when it came to hunts like this one, they would rather have someone watch you. Blackmail wasn't good. So, being the reasonable men they are, they dumped you on Castiel, who knew nothing about humans.

"Alright Castiel, Y/n can take pretty good care of themselves, just keep an eye on them, alright?"

"I will do the best I can Sam." Castiel responded as you walked into the kitchen.

"Please try and get them to eat something." He added before he left, leaving his sibling and the angel alone.

Castiel walked into the kitchen, keeping good distance from the kid, but watching as they pulled some water out of the fridge.

"Sam told me that I should have you eat something."

"No, we're out of pasta." You murmured, twisting the lid off.

Castiel tilted his head a bit, "Human's are not limited to strictly one food?" He said it sternly, but you could tell it was a question.

"Yeah- I know, but like- it's complicated Cas."

"Well, is there something here that you will eat?" He was going to attempt to negotiate.

"well, my dinner is probably going to be day old chocolate milk and a bag of Funyuns."

"That doesn't sound very appetizing."

"You're an angel-"

"I watch the Winchester's eat all the time." He walked into the kitchen, "I'll attempt to make you something."

"Cas-"

"I'm an angel of the lord, I can make a child some food." He began rummaging through whatever food that the winchesters had in the motel kitchen. He came up with some bread and grape jelly.

"No- I'm not eating that."

"What?"

"I said I don't wanna eat that. I don't like grape. It's yucky."

"Alright, I'll find something else. What about..peanut..butter?"

"No. Dean only likes the thick one and it's too chunky for me. I don't want it."

"Well," castiel looked at the kid, "What do you like to eat?" There was few of what the kid said in the motel, but Castiel managed to find some left over pizza in the back of the fridge. A contender! So, he heated it up and put it on a plate. He gave it to you as you sat down and watched curiously as you picked the pepperoni off. "You don't like that part either?"

"No. But it doesn't ruin it. I can still eat it." Castiel sat down.

"Why do you not like many foods?" You shrugged,

"I just don't." You ate half of it before you stopped. He looked down at it, his brows knitted together.

"Are you not going to eat anymore? Is it not good?" You shook your head.

"I think your brothers would want you to eat it,"

"I know.."

"What would get you to eat it, child?"

"Will you tell me a story?" So castiel did. And eventually you ate your food.

Castiel didn't like the quiet after you went to bed. He was beginning to grow to enjoy your company. That's when the tired boys came back.

Sam immediately went to clean up, Dean approached Cas,

"So, how was booger? Did they eat."

"Yes. I heated up pizza for them. They showed me how to use the microwave."

"Woah, a whole meal? Booger never eats that much for Bobby. Good job Cas."

This confused Castiel, but he never had an issue getting the kid to eat after that.

[resident-idiot-simp]

How do you think 09 v Reboot MW would fair in the SPN verse?

Would be creatures or hunters?

how’d they react to the characters from SPN and in a fair fight who would win?

YOU HAVE UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME!

Okay this whole thing is very complicated let's break it down.

First of all I think either could be both depending on the vibe you are going for but here is my first thoughts on it.

22-

Soap: hunter

Ghost: creature (werewolf or vampire maybe)

Gaz: hunter

Price: hunter

09-

Tav: toss up maybe originally Hunter turned creature I want to say vampire..... For Obvious reasons

Riley: creature (I would like to say Wendigo I really would but that might not fit quite in the universe... I'm going to say it anyway)

Roach: creature (Hell maybe he could be a Phoenix that would be very interesting considering they're all dead)

Price: Hunter but like Gordon vibes

React is a good question... There are so many characters I could go on about... Honestly it might be easier to ask about a specific character but I'm just going to do a vague overall. So TFW + Gabriel (because he is the best character)

Sam- He likes all the 22 boys honestly (probably a particular liking in Soap) he probably is just curious about their lives. 09 probably extremely hesitant but even more interested. He hates Price because Price is far too much like John.

Dean- He finds a keen spirit in Ghost and finds Soap fascinating. Hates 09 Price and probably wants to kill Riley. Tav is off-putting and he is confused by Roach and asks him a metric shit ton of questions.

Cas- He really don't care about any of them except for Riley and Roach probably he just wants to understand how they function and why (09) Price isn't dead

Gabriel - He loves the 22 boys and will treat Ghost like a pet. Soap is displeased but can't do shit about it. He finds Soap fun to poke and prod at and likes to call Price a child.

09- He wants to put Riley in a jar and study him. And he is so found of Roach (kindred spirits those two both can't FUCKING DIE) . Tav gets the trickster special because he isn't found of where he is headed and Price is free game to hunt.

(there is more Gabriel because I understand how far better then any other character.)

And in a fight?? That's not really a fair question... Because it's the Winchester's..... They can beat any character in fiction let's be honest here.

Castiel alone bodies. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ BUT I don't think that's the answer you want. So instead let's break it down.

They both have military tactics they are both honed in their craft. Tactics wise I don't know who actually wins It might be a toss-up. Would I like to give it to the Captain? Yes! Would he actually come out on top? I'm not sure.

Fighting wise again toss up they really are evenly matched in my mind.

The thing is the Winchester's have the advantage they know more than any hunter in the world because of the bunker.

If we're not counting just how overpowered the Winchester's are for the numerous reasons they are not only because God made them that powerful. They are honestly two sides of the same coin so I'm the end It might just be a draw ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯