#castiel imagine
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Dean: Go big or go home!
Castiel, with tears in his eyes: I am begging you, Dean. For once in your life, go home. Please. Just this once. Go home.
Dean: I'm going big
#supernatural shitpost#cw supernatural#supernatural destiel#supernatural#incorrect supernatural quotes#dean winchester#castiel#jensen ackles#misha collins#dean winchester x castiel#dean winchester imagine#dean x castiel#destiel imagine#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x reader#castiel imagine#castiel x reader#destiel
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{Castiel X Reader} My Angel
A/N: this came to me in a dream and i had to write it. sorry for being kinda inactive :( writers block be a bitch. but i hope you guys enjoy this one shot i was finally able to write! :] (gender neutral reader)
Warnings: reader gets kidnapped but angels, castiel unalives them
Summary: You had fallen right into their trap. The angels were using you as bait to get Castiel. They made the mistake of underestimating him.
Words: 1009
(not my gif)
"Castiel!"
Your scream bounced around the skull of his vessel like a ricocheting bullet. He abruptly stood from the chair he had been sitting in. The sudden movement caused Sam and Dean to look over at their angel friend. They eyed him curiously.
"You alright, man?" Dean asked, but before he could receive an answer, Castiel disappeared with a woosh of his wings. Dean turned to his brother. "What the hell was his problem?" Sam shrugged in response before looking back at his computer screen.
'Angels... Why did it have to be angels?' you thought.
You had fallen right into their trap. They wanted you to get to Castiel. Unfortunately for them, they were going to get just what they wanted.
"Castiel!" you called out for him again, and the angel in front of you laughed before smacking you across the face.
"Shut up. You already did your job."
The single lightbulb above your head suddenly popped, sinking the room into darkness. You heard shuffling footsteps before the sounds of punches landing. A few more moments of fighting before you heard the squish of a blade stabbing into flesh. A few feet away, three lights slowly emitted from the darkness. You could see a brief glimpse of the rage in Castiel's eyes as the angel died. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away once it was too bright to bear.
Then it was silent. All you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. The smell of blood wafted through the air. You sucked in a breath and held it. You heard footsteps come over to you and around to stand behind you. You felt hands tugging at the ropes that were tied around your wrists. You were still terrified even though you knew who it was.
"Castiel?" you asked, your voice wavering.
"I'm here," he said as he finally got the ropes untied.
You brought your hands into your lap and rubbed your sore wrists. Castiel rounded the chair you were sitting in. You heard shuffling as he knelt down in front of you. Your eyes were slowly adjusting in the dark. He reached out and gently held your hands in his. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles in an attempt to calm you down.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I-I don't know."
"It's alright. I'm going to make it all better," he said softly.
You felt two fingers press against your forehead. "Castiel, wait!" you reached up to grab his wrist and try to pull his hand away, but it was already too late.
You could feel the ache in your muscles subsiding. The tingling on your cheek from where the other angel had slapped you was gone. You could breathe evenly again. You pulled Castiel's hand down, and he let you; you were already healed. You could see a faint smile on his face through the darkness.
"I'm sorry-" he cut you off quick.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault," he reassured you.
"I fell right into their trap. I should have seen it coming!" you insisted. "And your grace..." you added sadly.
"It doesn't matter. What matters now is that you're safe," he said as he cupped the side of your face.
You leaned into his touch. Your eyes fluttered close, but it wasn't much difference to the darkness that surrounded you.
"Let's get out of here," Castiel said.
His trench coat rustled as he stood. He held both your hands, and you knew what was coming next. Usually you'd protest him teleporting you, but you just wanted to be out of that room. You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for teleport and for the incessant questions you were sure to get from Sam and Dean. With a quiet whoosh of Castiel's wings, the two of you were out of that stuffy room.
You were surprised to smell fresh air. You shivered as the wind blew over you. You opened your eyes, and you're a bit disoriented when you realized you were standing. You stumbled on your shaky feet. Castiel was quick to place his hands around your waist to keep you upright. You put your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you tried to force your legs to work.
"I'm sorry. I thought you'd want to come back to the bunker instead of..." his voice trailed off.
"It's alright. I actually would rather be here. It's just, next time have me stand up beforehand," you said as you finally managed to regain your balance.
"My apologies. I'll remember that for next time."
"It's okay," you said with a chuckle, "Thank you for the rescue. I don't know what I'd do without my angel," you added.
You noticed the way his head cocked to the side at 'my angel.' You didn't even mean to say it, it just sort of came out. You hoping he doesn't acknowledge it.
"Your angel?" his pleased smile says he's not annoyed, but you can't help the embarrassment that burns your cheeks.
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean-" he cut you off before you could dig yourself into a hole with your rambling.
"I'd be your angel forever if you asked me to," he said smoothly.
Your jaw dropped open slightly at his words. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. You're sure he can feel the warmth against his lips. You closed your eyes when he kissed you, and you heard the flap of wings. Your hair was jostled by the gust of air. You opened your eyes to find him gone. You're left with your skin tingling with the rush of almost getting killed and then getting rescued by the angel you've had a crush on since you met him. You brought your hand up and gently touched the spot where his lips had kissed you. The next time the two of you were alone, you were definitely taking him up on his offer.
#castiel#castiel x reader#castiel x y/n#castiel x reader one shot#castiel x reader imagine#castiel x reader fanfic#castiel imagine#castiel one shot#castiel fanfic#supernatural#supernatural x reader#gender neutral reader#userbored-writer101
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Stunning
Pairing: Established Castiel x Winchester!Reader (Fem)
Summery: Based after Castiel became human, and loosely based off a post I seen about how after he became human he say Dean's face for the first time.
Words: 1365
Warning: Fluff, Kissing, a little sad with a happy ending, Canon Divergent (Canon is a suggestion). Not edited we die like Winchesters.
She sat comfortably on one of the plush couches in the library. Her coffee mug clutched between her hands, she was trying to absorb the heat from the ceramic mug. The bunker was cold in the mornings, the fans above that pulled fresh air in were noticeable in the quiet of the morning.
Her morning tea brought her the heat she needed to get ready for the day. Her brothers had left her in a hurry last night after getting a frantic call from Castiel telling them the angels fell and he lost his grace. She wanted to go but her brothers said it would be best if she stayed home and manned the phone, hunters would be calling for assistance and she was best to answer their calls.
Her job as a hunter was picking up for Bobby, she would spend days on end researching with him, learning from him, she took over for him when he passed. Her heart clenched thinking back to the elder hunter she viewed as a father.
Her brothers had called an hour ago to tell her they would be home soon and they had her angel in tow. Well he wasn’t an angel anymore she figured. Losing his grace meant he was pretty much human now.
The bunker door banged open, making her jump as the peaceful quiet was shattered by the sound of heavy boots and grunts as three of the most important men in her life made their way to where she was curled up. One of Dean's flannels covered most of her upper body, the sleeves rolled up. She never slept well alone so she would wear one of Dean’s flannels and she would use Sam's blanket and pillow that Castiel would use during the night as she slept next to him. She would surround herself in their safety.
She looked at her brothers, Dean was the first down the stairs he gave her a grim look, she searched his face for something to indicate what she should be prepared for. He gave her very little. Sammy was right behind him and his face was less grim but not much more optimistic looking. The last was Castiel, and he looked awful. He looked exhausted, he looked cold. He looked completely lost. He hadn’t looked at her yet, his face downcast as he made his way down the stairs, he gripped the rail harder than she had ever seen him grip it before.
She stood before Castiel made it to the bottom of the stairs, she walked forward and stood just behind Dean, her hands wrapped around his arm, he brought his free hand up and rubbed soothing circles on her hand. Sammy stood beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, he leaned down, “he’s a little overwhelmed,” he whispered to her.
Castiel was at the bottom landing still looking down but focused on his hands in front of him. She nodded at her brother and took slow steps forward before she stopped a couple paces from the former Angel. He still hadn’t looked up from his hands. She reached out and put her hand on his, she wanted to sooth his fidgeting fingers, ease his worries. Make him feel better.
“Cas,” she said quietly, his heart fluttered at how softly she spoke to him. Her voice brought him some peace, it didn’t sound much different from while he was an angel. The brothers had sounded different. Much more gruff, not as smooth. Her voice was still like little bells that chimed in perfect harmony. Her voice was music to his ears.
She moved closer to him, her other hand touching his cheek gently, she was trying to coax his face upwards so she could look at him fully. He leaned his cheek into her touch, her touch was feather light, gentle and soothing. Her skin felt like a warm blanket to him, her fingers trembling against his cheek. He could feel her worry roll off her in waves. She always wore how she was feeling on her sleeve, he always knew how she was feeling. She was always one of the easiest to understand even while he was Angel.
“Castiel, look at me” she cooed gently at him, he lifted his face and had his eyes closed. He was afraid of her looking into his eyes and not seeing the Angel he was and only seeing the shell that was left. She ran her thumb across his cheek, a few of his tears slipped past his closed eyes. That was a sensation he was not going to get used to anytime soon. “Please love.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her face. He truly looked at her face, for the first time he saw her face. She was beautiful. Her skin was speckled with years of living, laugh lines, crows feet. She looked like she truly lived. While an angel he had never seen her face for what it truly was. But now he sees every pore, every wrinkle, every freckle. Her eyes were a beautiful green like Dean’s, her lips a soft pink and her hair was a lovely mahogany color.
He took his clenched hands from her and placed them on her face, inspecting her, feeling her skin for the first time. He had touched her before but never had it felt this real. It was so overwhelming, his heart was beating loudly in his ears as he stared deeply into her eyes. Her lips parted as she took a sharp breath when he touched her.
Then she smiled at him, “Castiel.”
“You are stunning,” Castiel said breathlessly. He brought her face towards his and kissed her gently. The feeling of her lips on his was almost too much for his mortal heart to handle. He hadn’t imagined what it would be like, to feel life like a human, he hadn’t imagined she would feel this perfect.
Someone cleared their throat behind the two, Castiel reluctantly pulled back from her and she gave him a sweet smile.
“So this my Castiel now?” She said softly, her eyes searching his face.
“This is your Castiel now,” his voice sounded the same, he looked the same, a little rugged and his lips felt the same. The only difference was the lack of soft thumb she would feel buzzing under his skin. The thumbing would get stronger under her touch. That was the only thing that was gone.
“Well I’m okay with that,” she pulled him to her side and wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was just happy he was alive and he was here with her.
Dean looked between his baby sister and Castiel, when they first started dating he was against it. Hell he still didn’t like it. Castiel promised him he would protect her with his life. Something he truly meant as he had risked his life more than once to keep her safe. Now that Cas was human he didn’t know how protecting her would go, but he knew Castiel would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Sam had left the library and went to find some food for the four of them. He had noticed his blanket on the couch, knowing she stayed there the whole night, waiting for them to come home. Dean’s flannel hung loosely off her frame, and he figured the pillow that was next to his blanket was Castiel’s pillow.
He hated leaving her here alone, she was never good with it, someone always stayed with her or she was with them. Ever since her Castiel got together he always made sure she wasn’t alone for long periods of time and he would constantly update her on his whereabouts. Something Sam appreciated greatly from the former Angel. He looked at the fridge, being held up with a piece of electrical tape, there was a picture of the four of them. They were all smiling, she insisted it be taped to the fridge, a reminder that no matter what they had each other and there was room for happiness in this fucked up world.
#castiel#castiel x reader#castiel x you#supernatural#supernatural imagine#castiel fluff#castiel imagine#castielxwinchester!reader#not edited we die like winchesters#winchester sister#reader insert#female reader
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Castiel: You don't want Dean to die.
Castiel: And I don't want Dean to die.
Castiel: So, now we just have to make sure Dean doesn't want Dean to die.
Y/N: Fantastic plan, but have you met Dean?
#saviour complex#supernatural incorrect quotes#supernatural imagines#supernatural prompt#supernatural drabble#supernatural imagine#supernatural funny#supernatural#supernatural drabbles#dating dean winchester would include#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#castiel imagine#castiel
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#castiel imagine#castiel fluff#castiel x dean#castiel x reader#castiel#castiel imagines#supernatural x reader#supernatural imagine#dean winchester#sub Castiel#castiel smut
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the barn - c.n
Paring; Castiel x reader
Synopsis; The last creature you'd ever expected to meet was an angel...nevermind a cute one
Warnings; none
Notes;
Satisfied that Bobby was okay you looked back to the man who stood behind you. Dean glared daggers through the dark-haired man before pushing you slightly behind him.
What the hell was this thing? You, Dean, and Bobby had come to this barn in hopes of finding out what creature had managed to pull Dean out of hell, yet the thing that had walked through the doors hadn't been what you expected. This thing was human, or at least looked like it.
“Your friend’s alive.” His voice was deep, gravely almost as he spoke. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through you as he looked you over for a moment. Dean ignored him before talking. “Who are you?”
“Castiel.” He stated plainly.
“Wait so you're what Pamala saw?” You asked stepping beside Dean. Castiel nodded his attention yet again going back to you. You frowned slightly. If this was the Castiel that Pamala had seen how come neither you nor Dean were currently going blind?
Dean scoffed shaking his head. “Yeah, we figured that much, I mean what are you?”
“I’m an Angel of the Lord.” His words made your eyes widen in disbelief—an angel. Dean looked at you for a moment, his face expressionless but his eyes showing his shock. Dean turned back to the ' angel, ' letting out a low ‘humph’ sound. “Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.”
“Angels are just religious fairytales.” You shook your head. “They're not real.” Castiel frowned at the two of you before speaking. “This is your problem. You have no faith.”
A sudden lightning flash lit up the barn and you watched in awe as a pair of large wings appeared on the wall. A moment later they were gone.
You stood in awe for a moment longer, as the two spoke. After a moment Castiel walked over to the table covered in weapons leaving you and Dean alone for a moment. You both turned, still on guard and watched him pick up a knife.
“Would it be a sin if I told you he’s sorta cute?” You whispered to Dean. His head snapped to you and he sent you a look of disbelief before shaking his head. “He burned a woman's eyes out.”
You frowned turning your attention back to the angel. What the hell had your life become?
#supernatural#spn#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#dean winchester x you#dean winchester imagine#castiel x reader#castiel imagine#dean winchester x reader#castiel x you#castiel novak#dean winchester#sam winchester]#spn fanfic#supernatural x reader#jensen ackles#misha collins#.mine#.spn#.castiel
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Imagine refusing to pray to Castiel…
“Y/n can call him, right? I mean, he always answers you.” Dean gestured to you from his bed.
You were pacing the room, head buried in a lore book when you heard him. “We’re not talking.” You said without lifting your eyes from the page.
Dean pursed his lips and sent a very suspicious squint your way. You never turned down an opportunity to talk to the angel.
“What? Since when?”
“I thought that you liked each other.” Sam frowned. Curiosity had now reached him. “I mean, pre-apocalypse he’d never leave your side.”
You turned around and walked in the opposite direction, finally looking up at the hunter.
“Well, we’re post-apocalypse now. Things change.” You shook your head and gestured to his laptop. “If you want his help I won’t stop you. But I’m not praying to Castiel.”
~ More imagines here ~
#theladyofmanyfandoms#theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction#gif is not mine#castiel x reader#castiel imagine#dean imagine#dean x reader#sam imagine#sam x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester x reader#supernatural imagine#supernatural x reader#spn imagine#spn x reader
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Angelic Apologies
i finally wrote for Cas!!!! i love this man so much 🤣😭
Castiel Novak x Reader
No pronouns used
Summary: When a routine day in the bunker takes an unexpected turn, the reader accidentally punches Castiel in the face. Filled with guilt, apologies pour forth, only to be silenced by a surprising and passionate kiss from the celestial being. As the reader hesitates and pulls away, Castiel delivers a romantic yet slightly creepy declaration, showcasing his unique understanding of human interactions.
Angelic Apologies
In the dimly lit library of the bunker, you sat engrossed in a dusty tome, the weight of ancient knowledge pressing against your temples. The room was filled with a hushed quiet, the only sound being the faint rustle of pages and the occasional creak of the old floorboards. Little did you know, an unexpected visitor was about to disrupt your solitude.
Out of nowhere, a fluttering of wings announced Castiel's arrival. The air displaced, and with a soft whoosh, he stood behind you, his trench coat brushing against the floor. Unbeknownst to you, his piercing blue eyes studied the words on the pages before him. In the eerie silence, you sensed a presence and, acting purely on instinct, you whirled around and threw a punch.
Cas barely had time to register the surprise on his face before your fist connected with his nose. His head snapped back, and a low groan escaped his lips. "What the hell?" you exclaimed, only to realize that the celestial being you had just cold-cocked was none other than Castiel.
Panicking, you reached out to him, stammering an apology. "Cas, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to punch you. I thought you were… someone else?"
Cas straightened, holding his nose gingerly. "It's fine, [Y/N]. I understand that you were taken aback."
Your remorseful babbling continued, the words tumbling out like a waterfall of apologies. Cas, growing increasingly impatient, raised a hand to silence you. "Enough, [Y/N]. It's fine, really."
But you couldn't stop. "No, Cas, seriously, I feel awful. I can't believe I—"
In an unexpected turn of events, Cas cut you off, closing the distance between you and capturing your lips with his own. The suddenness of it left you breathless, and you could feel the warmth of his kiss melting away your worries. The apology lodged on your tongue was forgotten as the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively finding their way to Cas's coat.
When the kiss finally broke, you were left gasping for air, your eyes meeting Cas's intense gaze. His voice, calm but laced with a hint of something unfamiliar, spoke words that sent shivers down your spine. "You don't need to apologize, [Y/N]. In fact, I find your instincts rather endearing."
You blinked, the romantic sentiment juxtaposed with Cas's typical lack of understanding of human nuances. "Cas, that's… kind of creepy."
A small, bemused smile tugged at the corners of Cas's lips. "Is it? I've been observing human behavior, and I thought it might be an appropriate response."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Cas, you're a strange one."
His eyes softened as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "Perhaps, but I am learning. And I believe that in this moment, my actions speak louder than words."
You couldn't help but smile, realizing that even an angel could be surprisingly charming in his own peculiar way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AHHHHH i'm so happy i finally wrote fro Cas lmaooo i just love him so much
#castiel x reader#castiel novak x reader#cas x reader#cas novak x reader#castiel x you#castiel novak x you#cas x you#cas novak x you#castiel x y/n#castiel novak x y/n#cas x y/n#cas novak x y/n#castiel oneshot#castiel novak oneshot#cas oneshot#cas novak oneshot#castiel imagine#castiel novak imagine#cas imagine#cas novak imagine#castiel#castiel novak#cas#cas novak#supernatural
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Masterlist
Hannibal
Hannibal Lecter
I Fucked Your Wife (Smut) (Hannibal’s Version) Will's Wife and Hannibal do the unspeakable while he's in prison.
Just One Date Y/N hates Hannibal but he wants to go on a date with her.
Wife (Smut) Hannibal and Will have a wife that’s just as crazy and messed up as them.
Older Men Do It Better (Smut) Y/N can’t seem to find guys that satisfy her needs, so Hannibal offers to help her.
Busy (Smut) Y/N is horny but Hannibal is busy
Sex in the rain (Smut) Y/N loves the rain and when Hannibal comes home, they have sex in the rain.
Hannibal Obsessed with his Patient (Smut) bullet points of Hannibal being obsessed with his patient
Will Graham
I Fuck Your Wife (Smut) (Will’s Version) Hannibal is in prison and Will and his wife hook up.
Hannibal’s Innocent Friend (Smut) Will meets Hannibal's friend that doesn't have a lot of experience and Will would like to change that.
The Twist Hannibal meets Will's wife that he didn't know Will had. He figures out the dark reason why Will kept her a secret.
Submissive (Smut) Will overhears Y/N telling Hannibal that Will is too submissive in bed.
Choose (Smut) Hannibal and Y/N fight over Will.
Affair (Smut) Y/N cheats on Hannibal with Will but Hannibal doesn't give the reaction they thought he would.
Baltimore (Series) (Smut) Will and his wife plan to take Hannibal’s house. Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Teacher’s Pet (Smut) Will is doing one of his student’s but nobody knows.
Wife (Smut) Will and Hannibal have a wife that’s just as crazy and messed up as them.
The Pact Y/N and Will made a pact when they were 6 years old
Best Friend (Smut) Will catches Y/N masturbating to him
Virgin Will (Smut) (Bullet Points) Will is a virgin and Y/N wants to be the one that takes his virginity
Animal Kingdom
Barry "Baz" Blackwell
Fuck You (Smut) Baz and Y/N have a lot of tension between them but Baz is married. Spoilers for the ending of Season 2!
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
Older (Smut) Y/N has a crush on Dean but he’s 20 years older than her.
You’ve Never What? (Smut) Y/N has never rode anyone’s face and Dean is shocked about it.
Cas
Experience (Smut) Y/N has feelings for Cas but when he catches on she avoids it.
The Boys
Homelander
Assistant (Smut) Y/N is Homelander’s assistant and he has feelings for her but doesn’t know how to show it.
Bully Y/N bullies Homelander
Obsessed with Homelander (Smut) (bullet points) Bullet points of Y/N being obsessed with Homelander
Breastfeeding with Homelander (Smut) Homelander wanting to suck milk out of his wife’s breasts.
Forget Homelander loses his memory
The Bet (Smut) Homelander and Y/N make a bet that ends sexually
What if Y/N had powers and Homelander didn’t? (Bullet points)
Soldier Boy
His Dad (Smut) Homelander cheats on Y/N with Storm Front so she sleeps with a handsome stranger
The Getter (Smut) Soldier Boy wants Y/N but she’s already hooking up with another member of the boys
Better Soldier notices that Homelander is mean to his wife
Billy Butcher
Beard (Drabble) Y/N wants to see Billy without his beard
Innocent (Smut) Y/N is the youngest member of The Boys and has no experience. Billy would like to change that.
You’re A Supe Y/N is a supe so Billy hates her until she saves his life
#masterlist#hannibal#hannibal lecter#hannibal nbc#hugh dancy#mads mikkelsen#will graham#hannibal imagine#animal kingdom show#scott speedman#barry blackwell#smut#baz blackwell imagine#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#jensen ackles#supernatural#castiel imagine#castiel#the boys#homelander imagine#soldier boy imagine
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adventures in catsitting (castiel x reader)
a/n: basically i just had this thought of castiel catsitting my cat (her name is Butters, and yes, she's featured in this fic) and it made my brain go all mushy bc i just love him so much. anyway.
masterlist | let me ship you with your fav characters | join my taglist
Watching a cat shouldn’t be too hard, for all intents and purposes. Watching your cat, earning your favor, well that would just be a bonus. Unfortunately, Castiel doesn’t understand cats that much.
“Okay, that should be about it,” you said, hands on your hips as you looked at the angel next to you. He was carefully analyzing all the different things you laid out on the counter: toys, food, meds, etc. “Any questions?”
“She eats baby food? Not cat food?” Castiel clarified, pointing to the turkey Gerbers still in its twelve-pack on the counter.
“Well, she’s a baby, and it’s better for her stomach,” you chuckled.
“I thought she was a grown cat,” Castiel says, confused. He looks over at said cat, a stocky cream-colored Persian you referred to as Butters. To him, she seemed to be full-grown.
“Every cat is just a little baby, even when they’re grown,” you give Butters a scratch behind her ears, and she lets out a meep sound reminiscent of what you dub ‘a sad trumpet.’ Castiel still looks confused. “Never mind….will you be okay? It’s just for two days while I finish this case.”
“I will be sufficient,” Castiel almost puffs out his chest at this.
"Great! You're the best, Cas," you pat his arm, grabbing your duffel bag and leaving out the front door. Castiel stands still briefly before looking at the fluffy creature beside him. Wide yellow eyes peer up at him, blinking. He looks back at the detailed paper you wrote, ensuring he got everything. He wanted to make sure he did his best.
It was around night that Castiel started to worry. He had entertained Butters for a sufficient time, then sat with her on the couch while she watched a movie. (You said that she liked Finding Nemo, so Castiel put it on. He found the movie to be strangely sad). It was her dinner time, and Castiel had put out a scoop of baby food as required, except that it had been hours, and she wasn't eating it. She was sitting on the couch, letting out gentle purrs and seeming fine. Still, Castiel was concerned. He decided to call Dean for answers.
"I think something is wrong with the cat," Cas said into the phone. "It won't eat its dinner. It's just sleeping."
"I'm sure it's fine," Dean sighed, obviously not wanting to be a part of this conversation.
"If there's something wrong with the cat--"
"Cats are weird. They don't always follow set schedules," Dean groaned, feeling agitated. He took a second before responding. "Is it fine otherwise?"
"...Yes."
"Then the cat is fine," Dean replied. "Call me when something actually useful pops up."
Dean hung up, and Castiel looked back towards the cat. It had woken up, blinking its eyes at the angel. It let out another meep, tucking its paws underneath it. Castiel gave it a pat on the head.
"Your food is over there," Cas pointed towards the food bowl. Butters just meeped again. "I just told you where your food was." Another meep. "I don't understand."
Butters, eventually exasperated, got up and jumped off the couch, walking over to Cas. She rubbed against his pant legs, walking back and forth and making more noises. Castiel gave her a few pets, showing a small smile when she responded happily to his ministrations. She rolled over, showing her belly, and Castiel gave it a few hesitant strokes. Eventually, Butters grew tired and walked over to her food bowl. The angel let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
You came home after two days, finding your cat and your angel sitting on the couch watching Luca on the TV. Both of them looked equally enraptured.
“You survived,” you smiled, earning Castiel's attention. He turned towards you with soft blue eyes, and your heart skipped a beat.
“It meows a lot,” Castiel stated, looking toward the feline companion beside him. She let out a meep in response.
“She has lots of opinions,” you chuckle, walking over and giving a big squish to your cat. She purrs happily, even letting you boop her nose. Cas looks at you both fondly. Without really sparing a second thought, you leaned over, kissing Castiel’s cheek and enjoying when a red flush coated his face. “You’re the best, Castiel.”
Cas sat there for a minute, even after you’d gone to the kitchen for some water, even after he couldn’t feel your lips on his cheek anymore. All he could think was that if catsitting meant getting a kiss, he’d have to catsit for you more often.
#castiel#castiel x reader#castiel fic#castiel imagine#cat#catsitting#persian#fluff#castiel fluff#supernatural#spn#supernatural fluff#supernatural imagine#my writing
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Father of Mine
father of mine masterlist
summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,2k
a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!
flashbacks are written in italics
pt1 pt2 pt3
Cleveland, Ohio 2002
The bar was crowded with people.
Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.
In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.
♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪
On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.
Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.
And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.
But whatever.
His Dad could kiss his ass.
♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪
“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.
Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.
Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.
He moved his gaze up and down her body.
Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.
Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.
A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.
He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”
He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.
“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.
“What’s yours?”
Dean Winchester.
But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.
“Dean Hansley.”
Gloria smiled again.
What a nice smile she had.
"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."
And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.
And he talked back with her.
And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.
By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.
The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.
A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.
♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪
Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.
And damn, that girl had high tolerance.
Dean thought she was amazing.
“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.
Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?
It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.
Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.
“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.
Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.
He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.
Dean threw a look around.
“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.
Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.
“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”
♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪
Hell yeah.
A boyish grin started forming on his face.
“An offer like that - how could I say no?”
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Now
“Read it again for me.”
Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.
Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.
They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.
“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.
“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”
Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.
“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”
He shuddered.
“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.
“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”
He was quick to cut himself off.
Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.
“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.
“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”
Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.
And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.
“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”
Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.
Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.
“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.
Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.
“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Black Hawk, Colorado 2002
“To listen to this voicemail, call-”
A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.
“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.
“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.
“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”
“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”
A tone.
“Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to this voicema-”
The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.
“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”
She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”
“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to th-”
“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”
This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.
“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.
“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”
“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”
John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.
“You have no more voicemails.”
That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.
“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.
“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”
Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”
John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.
Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Now
The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.
Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.
Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.
They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.
Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.
Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.
In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.
Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.
“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.
“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”
Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.
The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.
With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.
It seemed cozy.
They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.
Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.
There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.
Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.
When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.
“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.
“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.
“I never thought I would see you two again.”
Dean felt a sting in his chest.
“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.
Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.
Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.
“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”
She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”
A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.
Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”
She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.
“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”
While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.
“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.
“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.
“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”
Sam swallowed hard.
“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”
Or for any person, really.
She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”
Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.
“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”
She sniffled.
Oh dear God.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.
“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”
She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”
She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.
“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”
“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.
And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”
She forced herself to a smile.
“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”
Dean forbid himself a snort.
“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.
He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.
Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.
“Dean.”
He turned to face her.
“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”
Dean straightened his shoulders.
“Yes, I know.”
“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”
“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”
She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.
“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”
“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”
She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Lewiston, Michigan 2004
The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.
The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.
The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.
In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:
24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind
No. God, no.
He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.
R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.
There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.
John slammed the newspaper on the round table.
“Damn it!” He yelled.
And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.
—
He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.
He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.
Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.
—
Central Nebraska
To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.
She was furious.
John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.
It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.
The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.
“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.
“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.
“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.
“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.
John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.
“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”
“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.
“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.
“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”
John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?
But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.
“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.
“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”
A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.
“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”
Agreeing and empathizing with her.
“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”
Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.
“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.
“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”
Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.
“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.
“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”
There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.
Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-
But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.
No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.
“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”
Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.
Hopefully.
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Now
After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.
In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.
Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.
Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.
When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.
Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.
“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.
The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.
Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.
They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.
Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.
The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.
“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”
The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”
Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’
“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”
Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.
“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.
“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”
“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.
“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”
Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.
“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.
“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”
“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.
“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.
Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.
The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.
“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.
She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.
Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.
“What do you mean?”
Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”
Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.
“So, where to now?” He asked instead.
Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”
They made their way out of the castle.
“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.
“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”
Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.
༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻
Central Nebraska 2006
Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.
When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.
“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.
Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.
The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.
The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.
Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.
Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.
Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.
Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.
Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”
“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.
In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.
Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.
And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.
Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.
“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.
The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.
He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.
The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”
There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.
“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.
The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.
—
A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.
The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.
Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.
“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.
Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.
“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“
There it was.
Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.
Dean looked away.
“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.
“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.
“It’s alright. We’re good.”
Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.
“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”
Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”
Is this lady for real-
“But he can.”
And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.
—
Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.
Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.
Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.
Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.
Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.
Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.
Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.
“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”
Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.
Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.
Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.
“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.
Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.
“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.
“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.
The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”
The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.
In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.
“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”
Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”
Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.
The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.
“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”
Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.
He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”
Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”
Y/N was beaming now.
She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.
“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.
The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.
“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.
“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”
Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.
“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.
“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.
Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.
Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.
“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”
Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.
Dean found himself slightly smiling.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.
“You love that kid.” It was a statement.
Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.
Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.
“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.
Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.
“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”
Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.
“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.
Y/N clutched her shirt.
“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.
He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”
Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.
Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.
“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.
Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?
“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”
Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.
“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.
Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.
“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”
The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.
“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.
“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.
“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.
He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”
Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”
Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?
His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.
“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.
He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.
“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.
“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”
She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.
“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”
Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.
Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”
Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.
“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.
She shook her head violently. “Never!”
Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.
“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.
“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”
“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.
“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.
He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.
“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.
And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.
#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester#dean winchester x daughter!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester#dean winchester x you#castiel#castiel imagine#castiel x reader#supernatural#supernatural imagine#dean winchester au#dean winchester fanfiction#winchester reader#jensen ackles x reader#jared padalecki x reader#winchester!daughter#winchester!reader#yourmomxx#father of mine
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strange human feelings ~ castiel;supernatural
word count: 2578
request?: yes!
@dont-mind-me-bruh1 “hey! i was wondering if you could make a story of cass getting jealous of dean because he knows dean as know y/n longer then him and cass and y/n finds out and shows cass that he is the only one for her by letting him do what ever he wants with her. if that’s ok it could be a smut or it could be a romantic gesture but if it was smut could you make it a little kinky i know it’s a lot to ask but take it into consideration please.”
description: in which the angel starts to feel human emotions, the main one being jealousy
pairing: castiel x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)
One would think that all of Castiel’s time spent with the Winchester brothers on Earth would’ve led to some form of learning about humans and their nature, but one thinking that would be very wrong. There was a lot of things about humans that still confused Castiel. Currently, his biggest confusion was human emotions. Namely, the fact that he was starting to feel human emotions for one of the Winchester’s friends, (Y/N).
He met her when Dean was wounded after a particularly hard battle. Sam had told Castiel that a friend of his and Dean’s lived in the area and he wanted to bring Dean there so she could help to treat the wounds from the supernatural being the three had been fighting. She was a hunter once, Sam had said, she knew how to deal with this type of stuff.
When she answered the door, Castiel felt a warming feeling inside of him. He didn’t understand what it was, but he was too concerned about Dean to really think about it. Once Dean had been healed and they were taking some time to rest after the fight, Castiel realized that the feeling was still there. Every time he was in (Y/N)’s presence the feeling would grow stronger. At first, he thought (Y/N) wasn’t who the guys thought she was. That maybe she was some mythical being pretending to be human to get close to the infamous hunters.
Sam, noticing that something was off with Castiel, asked, “What’s up?”
“I feel...off,” he responed.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Off? Off how?”
“I don’t know. I feel this warming sensation in my chest.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, of course not. I don’t feel pain, Sam. It’s just...it’s warm. Whenever (Y/N) is in the room I feel it.” He looked to make sure (Y/N) wasn’t within earshot before leaning forward to Sam and whispering, “I think there’s something about her making this happen.”
Sam had a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, buddy, you don’t know how right you are to think that.”
Castiel took this to mean something bad, until the next day when Sam told a recovered Dean, and Dean let out a whooping laugh at the poor angel’s expense.
“How sweet. Our angel is in love, Sammy,” Dean said.
Being in any sort of romantic relationship with humans was forbidden for angels. That was how archangels like Gabriel were created, and neither heaven nor the mortal world needed more Gabriels. So, despite the warm feeling being consistent in his chest whenever (Y/N) was even mentioned, Castiel could not pursue this feeling. He would not break one of the angel’s most absolute rules. No matter how beautiful (Y/N) was; no matter how much he yearned for her company when she wasn’t around; no matter how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her whenever she was near.
Which, she was always near, because after she helped patch Dean back up, the Winchester brothers managed to convince her to join them on their next hunt.
“I gave up that life, Dean. I’m not going back to it,” she had insisted when it was first brought up. “I have a normal life here now.”
“You never liked normal,” Dean pointed out. “One hunt, (Y/N), that’s all we’re asking. You were the best hunter I have ever known. Dad and Bobby included.”
A small smile had tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. “That’s high praise.”
When she agreed, she said it would only be the one hunt. Nothing more.
And then one hunt became two, and two became four, and four became ten. And, before any of them knew it, she was part of Team Free Will. With her joining the team, Castiel came to learn a new human emotion: jealousy.
It started when (Y/N) and Deana returned to the bunker one night. They were both clearly intoxicated, giggling and staggering down the stairs. Castiel was the only one there, so their appearance surprised him a bit.
“Where are you two coming from?” he asked.
“We decided to go out for a couple drinks,” (Y/N) responded. “Talked about the good old days before being hunters was the only thing we knew.”
She looked at Dean and smiled before leaving to go to her room. The exchanged look caused a new feeling to grow, except this time it was in his stomach. It was a heavy feeling, almost like he swallowed a sizeable stone. When he looked at Dean, a feeling of distain rose within him. He wanted to zap Dean to the other side of the planet and hope he would never return. Maybe even take his soul back to Hell and leave it there.
He was shocked by the nastiness of his thoughts. Dean must’ve noticed Castiel’s mood change because he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Castiel shook his head. “Nothing. Uh...nothing.”
Dean didn’t believe him, but he let it go for the time being.
It wasn’t until week later that Dean finally decided to confront Castiel about it. “Okay, Cas, what’s the matter with you?”
Castiel wouldn’t look at Dean. That’s how it had been for weeks. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as Dean most of the time. It wasn’t hard for Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) to notice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re acting like I don’t exist for weeks. I don’t know what I did, but I’m not going to apologize until you tell me.”
Castiel shook his head. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
Castiel finally turned to look at Dean. Since it was just him and not him and (Y/N), the feeling in his stomach wasn’t there and there were no nasty thoughts on his mind. It concerned him even more. He was still convinced that (Y/N) was something bad and that’s why she made him feel this way.
“When you and (Y/N) are together, I get this bad feeling,” he told Dean.
Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of bad feeling?”
“I get a heavy feeling in my stomach, and I think these bad thoughts about wanting to get rid of you.” He looked at Dean very seriously as he added, “I think she’s bad.”
Dean tried to bite back a laugh but ended up chortling anyways. “Cas, (Y/N) is not bad. What you feel is jealousy.”
“What is jealousy?”
“It’s the bad feeling you get when the person you love seems to be romantically interested in someone else. Most times, it makes you hate the other person, even if that person if your friend. But, Cas, you gotta know that (Y/N) and I are just friends.”
“You seem very friendly,” Castiel said. Even he was shocked by the venom in his tone.
Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas, I assure you there is nothing between me and (Y/N). I’ve known her since we were barley legal. We’re old hunting pals who haven’t seen each other in over a decade. We’re reconnecting, we are not dating.”
Castiel sighed and sat down at the table. “But what if she wants to date you? You’ve known her for longer than I have. You know her in general. I haven’t even been able to get to know her and she’s been travelling with us for months. What if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“What if you asked her yourself?”
Both men turned to see (Y/N) stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and a not so happy look on her face. Castiel jumped to his feet, although he wasn’t sure what to say to her.
She started approaching the two as she continued to talk, “What if you both stop putting words in my mouth and ask me what it is I want?”
“Well...what do you want?” Castiel asked her.
She turned to him and, once again, he felt breathless. He always thought the saying was arbitrary considering angels took the form of normal human beings, but (Y/N) truly had the face of an angel.
“I want you, Cas.”
He was almost convinced that he had imagined her saying that.
“But I want you to be the one to ask me. I want you to ask me, to take me out on a date. I want you to get to know me, and I want to get to know you. She turned to Dean to add, “Next time you find out someone has feelings for me, tell me so we can avoid this whole awkwardness. Idjits.”
And then she walked away, leaving both men shocked and speechless.
~~~~~~
A few days later, (Y/N) found a note saying for her to meet the sender in a nearby park. She followed the directions and found a picnic waiting for her. Castiel was stood next to it, fidgeting with nervousness.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hello,” he responded. “Um...sit?”
(Y/N) chuckled and sat on the blanket. Castiel sat across from her and passed her a paper plate to put her food on. As he started to unwrap what he had brought for their romantic picnic date, familiar smells rose into the air. (Y/N) breathed in deeply, a small smile forming on her face.
“How’d you know all my favorite foods?” she asked.
“I asked Sam and Dean,” he said. “I wanted to get as much of your favorite things as I could, so I got them to tell me all the food you like, what you like most to drink, your favorite alcohol.” He gestured to the bottle of wine he had placed in a bucket with ice to keep it cold. “Although they told me it’s illegal to drink in public.”
“Only if we get caught. And it’s pretty dead here. Although, I will say, I’m shocked that you were okay with Dean talking about me at all. You didn’t smite him with the power of God or whatever, did you?”
Castiel grimaced at her sarcasm. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry for that.”
She took a bite of some food and took a long while to chew it. In all honesty, she was kind of flattered that Castiel liked her so much he felt so jealous over her friendship with Dean. Of course, there never was and never would be anything romantic between (Y/N) and either of the Winchester brothers, but Castiel must’ve missed that memo.
“I’m less offended by the fact that you didn’t talk to me about my feelings and more so offended by the fact that you thought I could ever like Dean,” she said instead. “I mean, come on, I can do much better than that.”
Castiel shrugged. “Dean is a nice person. You’ve known him for a long time, you get along really well. I don’t know why you wouldn’t like him.”
“That’s not how romantic feelings happen, Cas. You could know someone your entire life and never once feel a single romantic feeling towards them, and then you could know someone for just a few months and feel like you’re on top of the world every time that person looks at you. Time means nothing in these situations.”
That’s how Castiel felt for (Y/N). He felt like he was flying high every time she was around; like they were the only two people in the world. Sometimes he wished they were so that it would be easier to be around her and not act like an idiot.
He decided to veer away from the topic and get to the actual point of the picnic. “Tell me about yourself.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
She chuckled. “Everything is a long story.”
“I have infinite amount of time.”
He makes me feel like a teenager again, (Y/N) thought to herself.
“Okay, well the basics are pretty simple: only child to a loving couple of high school sweethearts. When I was five they both died in a car accident, I was taken in by my Aunt Frances and my Uncle Harry who were both hunters. They kind of scarred me with horror stories before bedtime instead of fairytales, but I guess that’s what I needed since all of that shit is real. They didn’t want me to become a hunter, but when I was 10 years old we were attacked in our home by a spirit and they realized I needed to know how to defend myself. Ever since then, I was a hunter.”
“Not when I met you,” Castiel pointed out. “When Dean asked you to join us, you said you were trying to have a normal life. You said you were done with hunting.”
She was impressed that he remembered. “Trying is the keyword. The thing is, there’s no such thing as ‘normal’ once you’ve been introduced to the supernatural. Once you know those things exist, and, in turn, those things know you exist, there’s no getting away from them. I knew that, which was why I did take Dean up on his offer to join you guys. Because I know, no matter what, I will never have a normal life ever again. This is what I’ll always be.”
She smiled to herself. “There’ll definitely be no normal if I start dating an angel.”
Castiel didn’t seem to understand, which wasn’t abnormal at this point. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and threw a piece of food at Castiel. “It was a joke, Cas.”
“But it’s the truth,” he said. “It won’t be normal to be in a relationship with me. I mean...technically, it’s against angel code for us to be together at all.”
(Y/N) tilted her head. “Then why are we here, Cas?”
“Because...” He trailed off. He was looking down at his lap, trying to find the words, but when he looked up at (Y/N) again, everything he wanted to say came out so flawlessly. “Because sometimes, you meet someone who is worth breaking the rules for. And you’re definitely worth breaking the rules for.”
(Y/N) felt her heart racing and a warming sensation running through her body. Before she could think of what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed Castiel. It was a quick, almost hesitant kiss since she wasn’t sure what his reaction to it would be.
“Was that okay?” she asked. She almost felt embarrassed to ask. Now she really felt like a teenager again.
In response, Castiel leaned forward to kiss her again. This time, it was more certain. This was what both of them wanted. They wanted to be with one another, no matter what the so called “angel rules” were.
(Y/N) pulled away first, resting her forehead against Castiel’s. Her smile was so wide that her cheeks were hurting a little bit. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’d like to do that more often,” Castiel said.
(Y/N) giggled. “You can kiss me all you want back at the bunker. Wherever you want, too. And I’ll kiss you wherever you want me to kiss you.”
Now this was a proposition that Castiel understood.
Within a matter of seconds, they had packed up the picnic and were heading back towards the bunker, giddy with excitement for what was to come.
#castiel#castiel imagine#castiel x reader#misha collins#misha collins imagine#misha collins x reader#supernatural#supernatural imagine#imagine#one shot#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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Rosemary Tea
Pairing: Established Castiel x Witch!Reader
Summery: Set just after Cas becomes Cas again after Lucifer rode him around like a fine suit. Canon divergent.
Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, borderline SA, groping, kissing. Nothing is described in heavy detail. Lucifer gets handsy with reader while in Castiel’s body. Angst, Fluff, sweetness and a happy ending. Unedited, we die like Winchesters.
Words: 1446
Disclaimer: I’m not a practicing Wicca/witch so do not take what I say as correct. It is fiction. I do not own the supernatural characters depicted here.
If you have a request, feel free to ask me!
Castiel felt many things when he got his body back in his own control. One was guilt, another was utter sadness and the final was anger. Not at her, at himself for not being able to stop the violation of her trust.
Lucifer (Castiel) had sought her out. Castiel’s little lover. His pretty little witch. He was in the mood to make Castiel hate himself.
She opened the door to her little cabin, a place Castiel found peace in after the hardest days, the worst hunts. A place he called home for a while after Dean kicked him out. She gave Dean an ear full after finding out what happened.
She greeted Castiel (Lucifer) with a warm smile and sweet kiss on the cheek. It made Cas writh in the back of his own mind, her lips felt like heaven and foreign at the same time. Like he was feeling them though a veil. Her little familiar glaring at Castiel, something she found a little off because usually he loved the Angel. Now he seemed wary of the Angel standing before her. It made her feel on edge. Keeping her guard up she allowed Castiel into her home. Cas screamed for her to stop and just slam the door in his face.
“How have you been, love?” Her accent was old, hard to place but he loved it. She pulled a few dried herbs down from their drying spot, rosemary, dried apples and a cinnamon stick, his favourite tea. Not that he could really taste it but he liked the warmth and smell. Her next hint was when he told her to stop because the smell of cinnamon was too much.
“Love, are you okay?” She asked with concern thick in her voice. Castiel screamed for her.
Lucifer (Castiel) put his hands on her hips, an almost bruising hold. “I’ve just missed you,” he practically purred into her ears. He turned her in his arms and made her face him and he kissed her, he shoved his tongue deep in her mouth, dominating her. He was much rougher than usual. More demanding, forceful. Her Angel was gentle, sweet and endearing. This was… odd.
She pulled back for a moment and looked into his eyes, searching for something. His hands growing impatient glided up her torso and pawed her breast roughly. It felt wrong. She grabbed his hand and moved it away from her. “I’ve missed you too Castiel,” she said warily.
“Let me make us tea, and we’ll catch up,” she went to move away from and his grip on her hip tightened again.
“Now, now pet, I’m not done with you,” her stomach dropped and she felt sick. There was only one person in the entire world who called her that. She felt violated. She pushed him away. He had referred to her as the Winchesters pet witch in the past. Her blood was boiling.
“What have you done to him, Devil?” She snarled at him, trying to get out of his grasp. His hand that had been at her breast, was now gripping her hair at the base of her skull.
“Clever little Witch,” he spat at her, his voice full of venom. Her eyes were watering at the force he was holding her hair.
“You’re going to do as I say and enjoy it.” Was what he spat at her next, her cat being the smart creature it was, snarled and clawed his leg. Lucifer growled and kicked the cat back across the cabin floor. It was just enough distraction for her to free herself and slap her now bloodied palm on the angel banishing sigil on her wall. A blinding light filled the cabin and he was gone.
She dropped to the floor and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bin. Her cat came over and placed a worried paw on her thigh. She cried.
That was a couple months ago. The Winchesters had tried everything to get Lucifer out of Castiel’s body that didn’t involve him taking over Sam’s body. Finally they freed the Thursday Angel from the clutches of the devil.
That’s why he was now standing in front of her cabin hesitant to knock. She refused to see Castiel when he first ‘woke up.’
“The devil's touch is still haunting me.” Was what she told Dean when he called her to let her know Cas was back in control of his body. She spent weeks cleansing her cabin, trying to get the aura right again.
“He left a scar in my space that I can’t seem to mend.” She said quietly on phone with Dean when he called her a week prior to this moment of Castiel standing outside her door. She didn’t blame Castiel for what happened. She blamed the petulant child that was Lucifer. But her soul was scarred by him, the touch of the devil planting a seed of doubt in her. She hated it. She tried everything to mend it, nothing worked.
She felt him before he knocked, the cooling calm of his grace seeping its way back into her bones, into the cracks and crevices of her old cabin. It was mending the scars left by the devil. It cleansed the damaged aura, his grace doing something not even her witchcraft could do.
She opened the door to his raised hand as he was deciding whether to knock or just leave her to her own peace. Her familiar standing between her legs, scrutinizing his form. The familiar always seems to know what was what. The familiars glare softened and he swished his tail before sitting between her feet.
His grace encircled her, tickling her cheeks and cleansing her soul from the scar left by Lucifer. Her body visibly relaxed at the cooling embrace of his grace. “Castiel,” her voice sounded like heaven, his name like a prayer coming from her lips.
She reached her hand out and took his raised hand into it, she traced her fingers over his hands. He felt a tingling rush through his body as if she was forcing her own aura through his system, scrubbing any remnants of the devil from his soul.
“Angels don’t have souls,” he told her when she said his soul felt like a summer breeze to her. It brought her peace and cleansed her own.
“Everything has a soul.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Giving him a caring smile, before preparing his preferred tea.
“Would you like some tea?” She asked softly. Already turning to gather the ingredients. Castiel followed her eagerly. With deft hands she prepared the ingredients, leaving them to steep on her stove top. Her familiar had rubbed itself against Castiel, sitting between the two.
The smell of his favourite concoction wafted into his nose, it filled him with a sense of hope, that despite everything he was going to be okay.
“My love, how I’ve missed you,” her fingers clutching his hand over the table, his grace whisped around the cabin, it moved over her body making sure she was alright.
“I’ve missed you as well,” his gravely baritone captivated her. Her beautiful lavender eyes staring into his eyes, searching his soul for anything.
“You soul feels far away, forgive yourself love. I do not blame you for the actions of a petulant child throwing a tantrum.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly before getting up and pouring a mug of the tea for him, she stirred some agave nectar into it and laid it down in front of him.
His fingers gripped the mug and brought it up to his lips, he relished in the warm scent and warmth of the tea. He took a cautious sip and everything felt right. He gave her a curious look and she winked at him. She must have stirred some calming magic into because his soul felt at ease.
She moved and placed herself delicately on his lap and his arm supported her and fingers gently pressed into her side, keeping her sturdy. She placed her arm over his shoulder and touched his cheek with her other hand. “You know I knew something was wrong. My angel holds me like a delicate flower. That menace handled me like a piece of meat.”
“You are my delicate flower, the precious thing to me. I could never harm you.” His fingers ghosted her side. “I’m sorry he left that mark on your soul love, I hope my grace soothed it.”
She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, “your grace has cleansed my soul and cleaned my space. All is right now.” She nuzzled her nose into his cheek lovingly.
#castiel#castiel x reader#castiel x you#supernatural imagine#supernatural#Lucifer#witch!reader#castiel imagine#castiel fluff#Castiel x witch!reader#established relationship#misha collins
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(Castiel trips over himself in a rush to open the door for Y/N)
Dean: You dropped something.
Castiel: (looking at the floor) What?
Dean: Your dignity.
#supernatural#supernatural imagines#supernatural imagine#supernatural drabble#supernatural incorrect quotes#supernatural prompt#supernatural funny#supernatural drabbles#supernatural one shot#supernatural headcanon#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester#castiel imagine#castiel#castiel drabble#castiel x reader
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We stan Cas on this page!
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Imagine… the boys realizing your “girls night” was actually a case.
#supernatural requests#supernatural preferences#supernatural imagine#supernatural headcanon#supernatural#castiel imagine#castiel x reader#castiel preferences#castiel x plus size reader#sam winchester one shot#sam winchester headcanons#dating sam winchester would include#sam winchester preferences#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#dean winchester x plus size reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester preferences#dean winchester x reader
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