Angelic Thursdays: To Reign In Hell

This isn’t Castiel, not as you knew him. The man you loved, he would have never done this.

To Reign in Hell by whreflections

It has been three years since the Apocalypse and everything changed. Castiel has given up his angel-status and gone mortal, all for his beloved Dean with whom he now shares a 'loving' relationship. But this domesticated life they created for themselves isn't without troubles, because when Dean becomes sick, the whole world gets turned upside down again.

That's the prelude to the story and already several boxes of Kleenex are needed, just to get through this heart-breaking chapter.

The actual story is about Castiel, who has voluntarily given up Heaven to be with Dean. By making this decision out of free will, he's no longer welcome in the kingdom above and has gotten him a one-way ticket to Hell.

Centuries later, Castiel who has become a second Azazel, threatens to destroy everything they worked for in his quest to free his master, Lucifer. Of course, the armies of Heaven aren't all too pleased with their former brother and they send Dean back. He will be the final attempt to reach what's left of the old Castiel, and should he fail, smiting will be the only solution.

Can Dean reach his former lover? Can he bring him back from the darkness? Or is it too late?


 
A segment:

Fury swelled in him again and he roared out of the parking lot, thinking. It made no sense. Whatever Dean had done to him earlier, he should have been able to do it long distance. If he had powers that strong, certainly he would have been able to sense them. Which left the option that it wasn’t Dean, but something else entirely. He shoved it out of his mind, still frustrated and jumpy when he pulled up in front of the motel. He wrenched the door open, stepped in and scanned the room, ready to find Dean missing.

He wasn’t. He was there on the bed, sprawled out asleep in a boxers and a dirty white t-shirt. His cock gave an interested jerk, and for a second he was almost shocked. Still, it shouldn’t have been surprising. The explanation was obvious. Problem or not, there was no denying Dean Winchester was an attractive man. If there was one thing demons learned early on, it was to take whatever they wanted. He’d learned, first from Macchion he assumed though he honestly did remember little to nothing of the beginning. After that, though, he’d followed his example, taken the ones that interested him off the rack when he was curious. All hatred he wanted to direct at the man aside, in the absence of any other sexual outlet, this could be convenient.

He crossed the room quick, toeing off his shoes and unbuckling his belt on his way. He was on Dean before he was awake, one hand closing tight around both his bruised wrists, his body pressing Dean’s into the bed. Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he woke, his eyes snapping wide for a minute before settling, understanding reaching them far sooner than Castiel would have expected.

“Want something, Cas? Go ahead.” His voice was rough, sleepy, more sincere than it should’ve been. It was wrong, out of place, and it only made him angrier.

“I don’t need your permission.”

“No, I bet you don’t.” He saw his throat move as he swallowed, his bright green eyes flicking away to look intently at the wall. “But you have it anyway.”

His eyes narrowed and he pulled back enough to flip him over, shoving him into the bed hard with one hand to the center of his back. He had already worked his pants open and he shoved them down now, pulled himself out. He was already hard, more than he would’ve expected. Still, it didn’t matter. It certainly wasn’t a problem. He bunched Dean’s shirt up on his back to press a hand against flat skin, unsurprised to feel a wound reopening, bleeding against his palm. He yanked his boxers down quick, perfunctory, barely hesitated long enough to slide his blood slick hand over himself. It was more than he would’ve done in the Pit, enough that Dean wouldn’t be out of commission for as long as he would’ve been if he’d used nothing at all.

He shoved in hard, groaned at the heat, ignored the sound he heard from the man below him. It didn’t matter. He was hot and tight and even marked up his back was beautiful, lithe muscles contracting tantalizingly under Castiel’s hand. It was meant to be quick, and it was. He rutted against him hard, gasped and dug one hand into the mattress when he came. He panted, rested a moment on one arm before pulling out, jerking his pants back into place.

“Thank you, Dean. Just what I needed.”

He hadn’t looked at him much beyond his back and his ass, honestly, and when he did now he could see his eyes shut tight, his jaw clenched even tighter and almost shaking. “Course. Anytime, Cas.” His voice shook just a little, enough to be noticed.

He opened his mouth, had a reply on the tip of his tongue but his head was suddenly exploding, pain so intense he was almost doubled over with it.


This story is amazing. It made me cry, laugh and even pray for a happy ending. Whether they got it or not, I'm not telling. But it's been a while since a story affected me as much as this one. So go read it. I'm sure you won't regret it.

I just have to say one more thing before I go: I know a lot of you are thinking, "Demon!Cas? That's so not my thing.". Don't. This story will surprise you. It was nothing like I expected from the summary. It was a hundred times better. So, lovelies, just read it. It will blow your mind.

And that's it for me. Catch y'all later!

Shirley Out.

Angelic Thursdays: The Human Condition

"Angels are watching over you."

The Human Condition by SnowWhiteQueen21

After what took place during 'The Song That Remains The Same', Michael decides to keep an eye on Mary. She's the mother of his unborn vessel and therefore important. When she seems to be having trouble sleeping due to constant nightmares plaguing her, he decides to help her.

John has been neglecting his wife a little, because he's determined to provide for his growing family. So when Michael asks him for his consent in a dream, he accepts. Michael makes sure Mary sleeps, and eats. He never meant for the intercourse to happen, but when Mary made her intentions clear curiosity got the best of him. What if curiosity morphs into something else?

Micheal comes to John in a dream, and it isn't hard to convince him to give up control of his body when all his defenses are down and he believes Micheal is nothing more than a dream. Consent is dubious at best, but Micheal has never let that bother him. Consent is consent, whether it is forced or manipulated. If God wanted things to be different, he should have added stipulations to the rules.

His vessel's body wakes with a bolt and he sits up in bed, looking down at the not-quite-sleeping Mary. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice low.

"Yes." Micheal says automatically, but he can tell he sounds like himself, not John, because Mary is looking at him strangely. "A nightmare." he adds, and she sits up.

"Want to talk about it?" she asks.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Michael asks, ignoring her question. Mary blinks in surprise, and Michael continues "It isn't good for the baby."

Mary's eyes narrow and she glares at him, something Michael understands usually leads to a fight in the Winchester house. Usually one proceeded by slamming doors and John driving away, only to return later and apologize, which almost always led to fornication. (Michael does not understand humans strange desire to rut into each other at every given opportunity. Their focus is far too much on the physical rather than the spiritual. At his darkest times, he often wonders if Lucifer is not right about them.)

"Maybe I could sleep if you weren't always gone, or leaving me here all alone. And don't tell me what's good for the baby, you wouldn't know seeing as you haven't been to a single doctor's appointment with me-"

Mary's voice is rising in volume, and Michael finds these human emotions tedious to deal with, so he cuts in "You're right."

Mary is stunned. "What?"

"I will be there next time. Every time, if you would like." Michael replies. This is true for John, he can see it inside his mind, his willingness to do whatever it takes to make Mary happy. It makes it easier to understand what he becomes after Mary's unfortunate, but necessary death.

"I-I would like that, yeah." Mary says softly.

Michael reaches out and touches her as John would, stroking her hair and tracing a thumb along her cheek. "Go to sleep Mary."

Mary curls into him, shuts her eyes and sleeps.



The sexing was wonderful, curious and alien, just like it should be for an angel. The story line was well-planned and although it didn't end where I wanted to, it was still a satisfying ending. And most of all, this story is so unique and original that I'm getting close to gushing. So with a final command, I'm going to sign off before I can do that.

"Go read it, now!"

*hasty departure* Shirley Out.

 

Angelic Thursdays: Superman Tonight

“I used my Grace to heal the wounds on your soul, and accidently bonded us together.”

Superman Tonight by lonelyphoenix85

Gabriel's words in the warehouse broke Sam, and now he's determined to fix it. Only he goes a little too far and unwillingly creates a bond between them that can't be destroyed - not ever. Loyal to a human, he aids the Winchesters where he can, ranging from keeping dear ol' Lucy out of Sam's head to saving Castiel's life.

This story is truly amazing. I couldn't stop reading it, and when I reached chapter 18, I actually screamed 'nooooooooo' at the top of my lungs because there wasn't more for me to enjoy. There will be though, seeing as this is a WIP, and that thought keeps me going.

Really, you should all try it, you won't regret it!

Here's a short segment:


“Why are you here, Gabriel?” Sam spat the Archangel’s name out like a curse. The almost non-existent flinch he got was not as satisfying as he would’ve expected. He hated having to associate this mockery of what an Angel should be with what he’d always so firmly believed. ‘The Trickster’ or ‘Trickster’ just didn’t roll off the tongue properly though, not in a one-on-one conversation. Sam ignored the small voice in the back of his head that pointed out that Gabriel was a lot closer to his idea of Angel than some of the Angels they’d met (Uriel and Zachariah immediately sprung to mind).

“Maybe I was bored – you’re always such fun Sammy!” The grin Gabriel had pasted back on didn’t reach his eyes, in fact it looked almost painful. Sam had had enough bullshit to last ten lifetimes, and didn’t have the energy today to deal with anymore.

“No.” Cold, hard, a single-worded demand for the truth, just this once, for a change. He watched Gabriel’s face closely, saw indecision flicker, and then the serious almost-frown was back, Amber eyes almost sad-looking.

“Couldn’t be easy could it?!” The mutter was so quiet Sam almost didn’t catch it. Before he could figure it out, Gabriel continued. “You needed someone to talk to kid, and somehow I don’t see Dean-o having a very open ear at the moment, what with his burgeoning relationship with alcoholism – and as for my bro, well, he still hasn’t quite grasped the many subtleties of human emotion has he? So, by some freaky-assed process of elimination, that left me.”

Sam couldn’t help it. His jaw dropped, his eyebrows rose, and he spluttered incomprehensibly as he tried to make sense of that. Was he – was Gabriel offering to be his own personal shoulder to cry on?! Not that he had any intention of crying anywhere, let alone on this confusing being’s shoulder, but seriously?!

“Very articulate there Sammy!” Okay, so Gabriel was still snarking – the world wasn’t quite upside-down then, just slightly sideways perhaps?

“It’s Sam.” He didn’t even realise he’d said it, his brain still trying to process what was happening.

“Of course it is Sammy!” The grin – the real one, that made Gabriel’s eyes sparkle (and he was not just thinking about how sparkly his eyes were, goddammit!) – reappeared full-force for a quick second, before settling back into the still-disconcerting serious expression. “I know you don’t like me very much – Hell, you probably hate me – and I know that’s my own fault. Believe it or not I was trying to help at The Mystery Spot, I just didn’t have all the facts. Not that that’s the point right now – another story, another time. The point is, Sammy, I may not be your first choice when you go looking for a sympathetic ear, but right now you don’t have any better options, and you need something. Every little thing you keep locked up in that stubborn brain of yours is one more weapon you give my brother in his battle to get you to say yes.”

“What? What do you care?! Last week you were a whole cheering section for the ‘play your parts’ team, now all of a sudden you’ve switched sides?” Disbelief battled anger as Sam half-shouted at the Archangel in front of him. He didn’t understand what Gabriel’s game was, couldn’t see where the trick was this time. Perhaps he was just hoping he could find out something useful. Well screw that! Sam might have fallen for Ruby’s tricks, but he’d wised up since then. He’d had to.


Well, that's it for me. Catch ya later!

Shirley Out

 

Angelic Thursdays: Trouble on the Way

 

"Is it like an angelic STD? Get boned by one of the God Squad and suddenly understand everything they're saying, whether it makes sense or not?"

Trouble on the Way by meh_forget_it

So today I wanted to tell you all about a story that's just so original that it makes me speechless. I've read a lot of stories in my time, (not that I'm ancient or anything) but this one is unlike anything I've ever come across.



Usually, whenever we read cursed object, we instantly say, "Great, another Fuck-or-Die story." But Trouble on the Way isn't anything like that. Gabriel gets cursed, yes. But instead of becoming a horndog, he starts spouting limericks whenever he tries to talk. Not just any limericks though, dirty ones, and they get worse the longer the curse drags on.




No one seems to understand him, except for his lover, Sam. Will he ever get rid of this cursed, or is Gabriel doomed to talk about bending cocks and women opening their crack for all eternity?




A short segment:




Other than that, however, Gabriel embraced it. Everyone else, however, wanted the damned curse to end. Plus, Sam was fairly certain that Gabriel was running out of limericks, as they were getting more and more random.

"She wanted to grow up a saint
And her mother, she had no complaint
But men--quite a few--
Were more fun than a pew.
So she wanted to be but she ain't!" Gabriel said, making the poor waitress that was passing their table, trip and gape, before carrying on her way when she saw the put upon expressions on the other three's faces.

"Gabe, stop tormenting Castiel, you know it makes Dean twitch and just plain confuses Cas." Sam groused dully, no longer even bothering to try and put more emotion in his voice than a sense of vague annoyance.

"It actually disturbs me a little that you understand what he's saying. Is it like an angelic STD? Get boned by one of the God Squad and suddenly understand everything they're saying, whether it makes sense or not?" Dean asked, and then actually wilted a little at the venomous glare Sam sent him.

"Angelic STD?"

"There once was a young lady from Ealing
Who had a peculiar feeling
She lay on her back
And opened her crack.
And pissed all over the ceiling." Gabriel said, with a straight face that actually made the whole curse thing a little more amusing.

"Gabe wants to know if you can understand everything Cas is saying then?" Sam asked, and took a secret joy in the horrified expression on Dean's face, whilst Castiel looked at him with a small frown.




This story is hilarious, original, creative and simply the work of a genius, so go read it. Great job, meh_forget_it! I hope to read much more from you in the future.




Shirley Out!

Angelic Thursday: Cold Academic Hell verse

Cold Academic Hell' verse by moorishflower

College is hell. Am I right? That's what most people say anyway. For Dean it's not so very different. Sam on the other hand fits right in. It's for that reason that Dean always goes to his little brother for college-related questions. But some things even Sam can't take care off and when it becomes obvious that Dean needs to pay a visit to a counselor, he's not excited to say the least. 

The guy isn't a total douche as Dean expected and he even falls head over heels for the strange older man. Acting like a love struck teenager, ranging from visiting every available second to bringing Castiel gifts, Dean can't deny his feelings. 

In the meantime, Sam has some issues to deal with himself. His counselor is a big dick who's out to harm Sam in any possible way. When Gabriel finds out -and yes, he's also a guidance counselor- he does everything in his power to help and protect Sam. 

The Novak brothers, as well as the Winchester brothers have some important decisions to make. Decisions that could ruin lives, and possibly carreers. What will they do?

A segment: 

Dean’s advisor is named Castiel Novak. Jessica pulls through, and informs Sam (and, through Sam, Dean) that Mister Novak is soft-spoken and intense, but well-liked despite that. Jessica provides them with several examples of people he’s helped – all of them are female, and all of them, as far as Dean can tell, have some serious issues. Bela is a kleptomaniac, and proud of it. Ruby’s a backstabbing, Satan-worshipping bitch. Becky has some sort of social anxiety disorder that makes it hard for her to talk to strangers. Madison has mood swings that wax and wane in time with the moon, and Anna’s religious fervor goes beyond “having faith” and enters well into the territory of “creepy”. By the third girl, Dean doesn’t even want to listen anymore, let alone visit this guy.

“You have to,” Sam says. And then, “Go and see him or I’ll hide all your cassette tapes.”

So, because Sam is freakishly good at hiding things, Dean goes. He makes an appointment on Sam’s laptop, and, that Friday, he shoulders his bag after classes are over and he heads down to the administration building. The place is maze-like, and the advisor’s offices are located in the basement, where visitors to the campus are less likely to wander. The only thing that keeps Dean from getting lost is the small signs scotch-taped to the walls, with arrows pointing right or left, and the words “STUDENT ADVISING” written in rainbow marker. Someone down here, Dean thinks, has a bizarre sense of humor.

He follows the trail of rainbows and arrows until he comes to what can only really be described as a cubicle forest. Rows of the things crowd together, down here in the basement, and Dean stands at the start of them like he’s preparing to enter a labyrinth, except he doesn’t have a ball of string to help him find his way back.

He picks his way through the path that winds through the cubicles, passing disaffected looking men and women, some of them fiddling with their phones or their computers, some of them doing paperwork, and one of them happily munching his way through a bag of Halloween candy (it’s November) and a deck of playing cards laid out on his desk. Solitaire.

“You look lost, buddy,” the guy calls out, seeing Dean paused, unsure, in the middle of the narrow path. “Help ya?”

Asking for directions is almost as stupid as needing an advisor’s help to get him signed up for this class, but Dean swallows his pride and says, “Yeah, I’m looking for Mr. Novak’s, uh.” He’d expected an office. Zachariah got an office, if Sam was to be believed. “…cubicle.”

“You’re in luck,” Candy Guy says, pushing away from his tiny desk and springing to his feet. He shoves his hand into his bag of candy and comes back up with a handful, which he offers to Dean. “Castiel just came back from lunch. Follow me.”

Dean cautiously takes a Tootsie Roll, and then follows the guy back out into the mess of cubicles – now, whenever they pass one that’s occupied, they’re examined like rats winding their way through a maze, and at the end they’re going to have to push a button, except one will shock them and one will give them booze and hookers, and everyone in the advising center is excited to find out which button they choose. Dean hunches his shoulders without thinking about it, and then mentally scolds himself for doing so; he pulls himself up straight as they pass row after row of tiny, three-walled rooms, wondering if these people will remember him, that obvious adult learner who needed help finding his way through the labyrinth in the basement.

“We kept asking for actual, individual offices,” the guy says. He sounds annoyed, but in a way that suggests irony, rather than true anger. “We got the basement complex. Consequences of a small campus, I guess. All the money goes to the tech people. Computers are a priority.”

“Sam would agree with that,” Dean says vaguely, and then adds, “He’s my brother.” They come to a stop in front of a cubicle that’s bare of the ornamentation that all the other advisors seem to have surrounded themselves with – no cartoons cut out from newspapers, no quotes from prominent authors or scientists, no pictures hanging on the thin walls of the cubicle itself. The man sitting at the desk inside has his back turned towards them, busily writing something down.

“Your brother,” Dean’s guide repeats. “Well, if he ever wants to defend that position, have him swing by here, I’ll give him a run for his money. Tell him to look for Gabriel.” And then he leans forward, balls up his fist and bangs on the side of the cubicle. The walls shake. “Castiel! You got a visitor!”

The man straightens up, neatly setting down his pen, and then swings his swivel chair around to face them. Dean stares, and Gabriel gives him a thumbs up.

“I’ll let you two get down to business,” he says, and then, with one last crinkle of his bag of candy, he disappears back into the maze.

Castiel Novak is nothing like what Dean had expected. He’s seen Zachariah before, and he’d been thinking that pretty much all advisors would be like that – pushing fifty-five, balding, having a permanent mid-life crisis and taking it out on everyone around them. Angered by the lack of prestige in their job.

Mr. Novak isn’t like that at all. Well, at least physically. He’s long and lanky, and he’s wearing, not a suit, but a dark blue argyle sweater-vest over a black shirt. There’s a pair of glasses folded neatly on the desk behind him. He can’t be much older than Dean is, maybe in his early thirties, and his hair is dark, mussed like he’s just gotten out of bed.

His eyes are blue. A clear, bright shade of blue, like the sky in October, just after the leaves have started to turn, so that the sky looks that much brighter against the foreground of reds and oranges and browns. Dean’s never seen anyone with eyes like that, before.

“May I help you?”

I don’t want your help, he thinks. Just your number. Except that’s wildly inappropriate, so he tucks the thought away somewhere in the back of his mind, to be examined later. Dean’s not the kind of guy who usually swings that way, but there have been a few occasions…a few guys who’ve caught his interest. But it’s been so long – there hasn’t been anyone new since his father died.

You guys just have to read this story. It has everything ranging from humor, longing, passion to heartbreak. I'm sure you'll love it. It's not a very graphic story. The most they've done so far is kiss. But it's beautifully written and perfect for a lazy Sunday. 

See you all next time. 

Shirley Out!

 

Angelic Thursday: Hotter Than Hell

"This is the worst kind of sin." He murmured as he looked down at her body, the lust still there but just being overpowered by the guilt. 

 

Hotter Than Hell by Miss Gypsy Willow

 

This very, very short fic might not be as angelic as usual, but I truly liked it. It's a Meg/Castiel one shot and after Caged Heat, you got to admit, we've all thought about it at least once. That kiss was freaking hot!

It doesn't get overly graphic, but it's enjoyable nonetheless. I laughed my ass off with the most cliché line I'd ever read. "Ooh you taste like heaven Clarence; but hell, even God knows you're built for sin." 

 

But that could just be me. Anyway check out the short segment and if you want, which you probably will, go read it! 

 

It was the most beautiful thing Meg had ever seen. An 'angel of the lord' pinning her to a cheap motel room wall in the middle of the day, so lost, confused, broken and deliciously fallen.

"Ooh you taste like heaven Clarence; but hell, even God knows you're built for sin." She purred as he kissed a trail down her meat suit's neck. What a sight they were, pressed flush against one another, her hands tangled in his black hair, his lips hot on her neck. The angel and the demon, just thinking about it made her want to shiver with pleasure.

 

"Shut. Up. Stop you're taunting Meg." He growled against her neck before nipping the skin there with his teeth causing her to gasp slightly. She pulled on his hair, dragging his face up so she could look at him. He glared as she grinned at him. He was always like this at the start of their... well. But she'd soon loosen him up, she always did.

"For you Sugar? Anything." She whispered before closing the gap between them and laying a quick kiss on his frowning mouth. "Aw come on feathers, turn that frown upside down." She said, unable to resist taunting him. He kissed her then, hard, gripping her waist tightly. He drew back slightly and before he could do anything else she flipped them round so she had him pinned against the wall.

Go read it now! And I'll see you all soon.

Shirley Out.

  

Wincest meets Angelic: Layers

                       MEETS







Today's a very special post, because it combines two of our weekly features in one post. Now I must say, I don't really ship Wincest, so I'm way out of my comfort zone here, but I'll do my best.

Layers by Strangeness & Charm

What do the Winchesters do when they're both drunk? They watch porn, of course and discuss the many layers hidden underneath the all too simple story line. The depths of porn; what a topic it is, indeed. 

Sounds like fun, right? Well, it appears to be, until a certain angel appears and Dean manages to tick him off. 

But is he really pissed, or did the 'prude' remark spark something else to life inside of him?

Dean was drunk, but not so much that he was affected in any major way, and Sam was buzzing from too many drinks and all the laughter that had come after. Contrary to his usual reaction, he was even finding it amusing that Dean had whipped out his (well, the non-existent Anton Keppler’s) credit card and paid to watch the motel’s porn channel.

“See, there’s a deep layer of irony about this scenario,” Dean was saying, waving the remote in the air as he lay back on his bed. “That guy in the balaclava has just broken into that nice naked lady’s house to steal the family jewels, and yet, now he’s there, he’s decided to show her his own family jewels.”

“I’m sure the scriptwriter was keen on layering on the irony,” Sam pointed out with mock seriousness. “There’s bound to be a deeply hidden Brechtian subtext too.”

“Oh, there are deeply hidden things in this alright,” Dean said, frowning. He tilted his head to one side. “No wonder her eyes are crossing.”

Sam couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head to one side, too, and then winced as Dean turned the volume up. “Come on, man. There’s only so many times I can hear a woman say ‘Oh ja’ before it gets old.”

“You need to read between the lines, Sammy,” Dean returned gleefully. “I told you, there’s layers here. She may look like a hot German housewife and it may sound like she’s saying ‘Oh ja’, but really she’s an undercover cop pumping that guy for information about who his fence is. Once he leaves with his bag of swag, she’ll be all over his ass.”

Sam glanced at the screen. “Well, she’s certainly letting him get all over hers right now.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, ja. Oh, ja!”

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Both boys jumped to their feet, spinning to the door with reflexes only slightly compromised by what they’d imbibed that night. Castiel stood before them, his eyes fixed on the TV screen, a wry half-smile on his face.

“Dude,” Dean hissed. “If you’re gonna go bamf and pay us a visit, could you at least have the decency to call first?”

He lifted the remote and clicked off the sound. Sam knew that he could just have easily turned off the TV, but apparently it gave him a weird sense of amusement to leave pornographic images on display in front of an angel. Sam would’ve smacked him around the head if he’d been closer.

Shameless smut alert! And how we love it. 

Go read this excellent one shot by Strangeness&Charm. She did an excellent job, although like me, she doesn't ship Wincest. 

Much love and until next time. 

Shirley Out. 

 

Angelic Thursday: Angel-cuffed

Angel-cuffed by Luciel89

Awkwardness, adorable moments and a little bit of angel porn...You'll find it all in this story.

What if you are forced to acknowledge your most inner desires? What if an archangel forces you into such a situation that you can not keep it hidden anymore? What if, all those feelings you believed to hidden so well, are obvious to almost everyone around you? Would you give in?

In 'angel-cuffed', Gabriel decides to teach Dean and Castiel a lesson. And he thinks cuffing them together for an undetermined amount of time, is just the way to do it.

To say that Dean is surprised to wake up with an angel in his bed is one thing, but an angel that's also suddenly stuck to him, all day and night? Well, surprised would be the understatement of the century.

At first, they are both annoyed, and highly uncomfortable with this change in events, but as time progresses Castiel and Dean become more at ease around each other. A lot more at ease! To what will this lesson of Gabriel lead?

It was the most ridiculous thing that had ever happened to Dean in his life.

Dean woke up when he heard a familiar voice call his name. He groaned and tried to turn around to lay on his right side, away from the voice, but something was pulling at his left wrist. Dean groaned in annoyance and tried to pull his wrist towards himself, but something was keeping his wrist in place and he couldn’t move it towards himself.

“Dean.”

Dean recognized the voice right away, and it only made him even more annoyed. The angel just didn’t have any understanding of a human’s need to sleep.

“Damnit Cas, stop pulling at my wrist and let me sleep,” he groaned into the pillow. He felt Castiel shift on the bed behind him but the angel made no attempt to leave and let Dean sleep.

Dean muttered a curse under his breath and finally turned around to see Castiel’s bright blue eyes stare back into his. The angel looked… uncomfortable. And he was sitting right there on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably close to Dean. If he moved any closer he would be sitting on Dean’s lap.

Dean glared at the angel. “Cas? What the hell—“

That was when he noticed the reason why Cas was sitting so close.

There were handcuffs around his wrist, and Cas’ too, locking them together.

“What the hell?!” Dean exclaimed. He sat up and brought his hand up to examine the weird handcuffs, trying to get them open. Next to him, Cas’ hand was involuntarily dragged up from where it rested on the bed, to dangle just below Dean’s.

“Dean, I’ve tried that already. It’s no use,” the angel said.

Dean stared back at Castiel. “What the hell do you mean? Why the fuck am I handcuffed to you?” he demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How the fuck did this happen?” Dean snapped. He stood up from the bed, dragging Castiel with him, and tried desperately to undo the handcuffs somehow, but it was no use.

He was handcuffed to the angel. Shit.

“I believe someone has tied us together. For what purpose I don’t know. I was just suddenly pulled away from my location to find my hand locked to yours.” Despite always saying things without any emotions in his voice, Dean could tell that Castiel was pretty annoyed by the situation.

“Shit,” Dean cursed; hands still working on the handcuffs, trying to get them off. “Have you tried to get these things off with your angel mojo?”

“My powers are not what they used to be, Dean. And yes, I’ve tried, but failed,” Castiel said. Dean never heard the angel sound so defeated before. He was about to say something when the door opened and Sam stepped inside.

Shit, today was just not his day.

Sam entered the room and froze. He stared from Cas’ defeated face and Dean’s annoyed expression to the handcuffs on their wrists, which Dean obviously failed to hide from him.

“Oh dude. I do not want to know about your kink games,” Sam said with a disgusted face. Cas’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Dean’s face was red instantly.

“Dude! I don’t swing that way! And we’re not playing around, we’re locked together!” Dean said.

“Yeah I can see that,” Sam said, still staring at the weird scene in front of him with a frown. “Mind to explain why?”

“I don’t know why! I wake up and I’m handcuffed to the nerd angel here,” Dean snapped, pulling his hand forward and Cas’ with it to show Sam. “And neither of us can get them off.”

This story is amazing! You should all read it! So do it, now! And leave Luciel89 some love, because she sure as hell deserves it.

See you all on Sunday for the vid of the week.

Shirley Out.



Angelic Thursday : Just Rewards

There's nothing in all creation that'll scratch it. Not them, not anything. Just us.

Just Rewards by FunkyInFishnet

It's a very different story than most out there. Not only is it Gabriel/Castiel, but the love-making is divine to say the least. 

Both starving for a connection only provided by other angels, Gabriel and Castiel come together in a flurry of wings and Grace. Gabriel sought out Castiel especially, while Cas is weary at the start. 

He can't deny it for too long however, and gives into Gabriel. It's beautiful, it's erotic, it's teasing, and yet it's not graphic or cheap. 

Truly admirable writing skills, if you ask me. 

And there was one line that had me gasping for air; "You know, if you want that bond returned by Dean, there's a lot more moves I can teach you."

Naughty Gabriel, don't we all just love him?

Here's a short segment of the story: 

Castiel turned sharply, instant tension in every part of his body. Of course Gabriel hadn't expected a friendly welcome. He grinned anyway, his posture all casual and smirking.

"I come in peace." He held his hands up dramatically. "Your boys are safe from me. Cross my heart."

Castiel looked suspicious. Clearly his time as an honoree Winchester was having some benefits. If the breaks got put on this apocalypse, he might survive to see the next year. Castiel stepped closer. Gabriel raised his eyebrows as he felt Cas extend his faint limited Grace, probing past Gabriel's vessel and into the Grace beneath to corroborate what Gabriel had claimed. Gabriel let him. Maybe Cas'd make it to two years. The spark between their Graces jolted them both. If all went well today, that would be just an appetizer.

Castiel's Grace retracted, having found the truth. Gabriel had meant what he'd said; no fighting today, no messing with the Winchesters. No apocalypse-themed agenda.

Castiel frowned at him, confused and wary. "Then why are you here?"

Gabriel smiled, like a predator that had found his particularly tasty prey. Castiel rightly held himself tighter. There were no human words for how much Gabriel was looking forward to this.

"I'm armed only with goodwill, bro, concern for you, and a very mutually beneficial proposal. Call it an intervention. There's some things they don't teach you upstairs. Am I right?" Gabriel grinned at the look on Castiel's face that telegraphed loud and clear agreement. "Like, dealing with what you're feeling right now. How long has it been for you, brother? Since you joined? I bet I've got you beat."

Castiel jerked slightly. Clearly not used to anyone down here noticing a little thing like that. The Winchesters wouldn't have any clue about it, probably putting any of his odd behavior down to his sorry lack of social skills.

Gabriel grinned. Their loss. He moved closer, brushing shoulder to shoulder with Cas. His brother's Grace flickered in response, warming up hungrily. Gabriel pressed closer. Contact with any of the Host was a blessing for them both, a luxury. A drug. After so long, it was almost as powerful as being in their Father's presence again. Almost.

"You can feel it, right? That yearning under your skin? That heat, that itching? It's only going to get worse, brother. I know. Imagine centuries of it. There's nothing in all creation that'll scratch it. Not them, not anything. Just us."

Hot damn!! And believe me, it only gets better -much beter- from here on! So go read it now and leave FunkyInFishnet some love. 

See you all soon! 


Shirley Out! 

 

Angelic Thursday: Face to Face with the Skies

This is a nightmare, just a really fucked up nightmare.

Face to Face with the Skies by quiddative

Castiel was not killed by Raphael on the night of Lucifer’s release. Instead, he’s sent to the year 1996 and encounters the Winchesters. Unable to return to the present, Castiel resigns himself to traveling with them on their hunts across the states.

Meanwhile in the year 2008, Dean has barely gotten used to being back in the land of the living when he gets the biggest shock of his life; the man he fell in love with when he was eighteen has seemingly come back from the grave as well, claiming to be an angel of the Lord. The thing is, he doesn’t have a clue who Dean is. 

Seeing Castiel—or Caspar—the second time had the exact same effect on Dean as it had the first time. It felt as if his heart was frozen but speeding up at the same time. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Castiel had cut to the chase, congratulating Dean on taking care of the Witnesses, pointedly ignoring the fact that neither he nor any of his angel buddies had lifted a finger (or wing, whatever) to help.

“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians... fluffy wings, halos, you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks.” Dean took pleasure in seeing Castiel wince. Take that, body-snatcher, he thought vindictively.

“Read the Bible,” replied Castiel, his voice clipped. Whatever warmth was there earlier was gone now, snuffed out by the coldness Dean was more familiar with. “angels are warriors of God. I’m a soldier. I’m not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns.”

“Concerns?” Dean sneered. He knew full well that he was being a jackass but he couldn’t help it. Castiel triggered something inside of him, something he hadn’t felt since Hell. Since Alastair personally released him from the rack and put a knife in his hand. He hated feeling this way but it was like a drug and he couldn’t stop wanting to hurl every hateful word he could think of at the angel. He wanted to hurt Castiel, let him feel what Dean was feeling.

A small part of him wanted to hurt Caspar, too.

But Castiel proved that he wasn’t above doing the same to Dean despite being an angel. “Our numbers are not unlimited,” he said. “Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There’s a bigger picture here.” He stepped closer to Dean, their harsh breaths mingling together.

The memory of meeting Caspar at Kittery Point all came flooding back to Dean now and his heart clenched. Fuck, it was killing him—how much he missed Caspar.

“You should show me some respect,” continued Castiel, “I dragged you out of Hell, I can throw you back in.”

This story was truly amazing. It's very well-paced and well-written. Although it's only nine chapters long, the writer doesn't hurry through parts of the tale. Truly perfect!

This fic kept me on the edge of my seat, every step of the way. I cried, I laughed and I pleaded while reading it, which only shows how immerged I was in the story. And don't all the good ones make you feel it for yourself? This story will take your breath away, so read it now!!

Until next time, SPN'ers!

Shirley Out.

Angelic Thursday: If On a Winter's Night a Fangirl

“Chuck,” Becky said, slowly and carefully and very, very seriously. “I think someone is trying to communicate with us through the fanfic.”

If On a Winter's Night a Fangirl by trinityofone 

Although this isn't a regular angel story and centers mostly around Becky, I still found it perfect to share. 

The story starts out with a sleep-deprived Becky slipping out of bed to read some fanfiction. It has been ages, and with Chuck's snoring she won't be able to sleep a wink anyway. When she opens her account, she reads a request to beta from someone called renegadeangel. Thinking the message was incredibly nice, she starts to read it, although she doesn't like it. It's written in present time and in the second person, something Becky despises. But still she keeps reading, only to be surprised by the fact that this person is describing her current situation, down to Chuck's snoring. 

She closes the laptop and goes to bake, too shook up to continue. The next morning she tries to tell Chuck, who thinks she has lost her mind. She even tries to show him, but the story has been replaced by a Dean/Castiel fanfic. Chuck is traumatized and doesn't believe her, and Becky is downright pissed. 

As the day progresses the story keeps changing and after an unsuccesful call to Dean to discover whether or not he is doing his angel-buddy, Becky finally decides to go for the most direct approach; she texts Castiel. 

The angel appears and reluctantly takes a look at the pornographic tales on Becky's computer. Surprisingly, he isn't as traumatized as the Winchesters were upon discovery of Wincest and actually believes her. He calls in everyone's aid to look through the porno for the hidden messages of a source unknown. 

Will they find it?

Here's a short segment:

“Chuck,” she said suddenly, “I think Lucifer hacked my computer!”

Chuck spent several seconds nearly choking to death on a raisin. Fortunately, Becky proved to be a robust back-patter, and Raphael didn’t appear to intercede on behalf of Chuck’s life.

“What?” he finally managed to ask.

“Or maybe it was Zachariah,” Becky amended. She gave him a brief summation of what had happened.

“Wait, you still read fanfic?” Chuck stared at her with wide eyes and a curled lip. “Still?”

“So?” Even though she was defending her internet porn habit, Becky felt righteous in her indignation.

“You know they’re real people,” Chuck hissed, blushing. “You’ve met them.”

“You seriously want to launch a tired RPS debate right now? My laptop may be possessed!”

“Your laptop isn’t possessed,” Chuck said with a dismissive sigh.

“Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m saying,” Chuck said carefully, as if to a small child, “that it was the middle of the night and you may not have been thinking super clearly—”

Becky growled, turned on her heel, and stomped out of the room—a series of actions that might have been more effective if she hadn’t still been wearing her killer rabbit slippers. She snatched her laptop off the chair where she’d left it and stomped back. “There,” she said, thrusting the computer at Chuck. “See for yourself.”

Chuck gave her an annoyingly tolerant look and lifted the screen. His expression remained the same for a few seconds as the laptop woke up and he started to read. Then abruptly his eyes went wide and he sprang melodramatically backward. “Fuck, Becky! Are you possessed? Why would you make me read that?”

This was not the reaction Becky had been expecting. She had kind of been hoping that Chuck would read the story, suck in a long breath, announce that they needed to call Sam immediately, and then spend the time until the Winchesters arrived apologizing profusely to Becky for ever doubting her. Instead he was acting like she’d made him look at a picture of the goatse guy.

She turned the laptop toward herself and looked. 

 

I really loved this story. It gets downright hilarious, especially when Becky starts to see certain things happening between Castiel and Dean, that might indicate the writer of this angelporn is right about his assumptions. But there are just too many funny moments to name. So, go read it! You won't be sorry. 

That's it for today. Hope to see y'all really soon.

Shirley Out. 

Angelic Thursday; Vague Discomfort

Can you imagine it? Two angels and the Winchesters sitting down for dinner, while the more holy of the bunch are doing unseen, but exciting things...That's exactly the setting for this short story, written by sky_so_blu.

In 'Vague Discomfort', Gabriel decides to pop in uninvited for dinner. His intent isn't to annoy the brothers, although his presence does, but to play a little with his younger brother. He's amused by the brothers, but more so by Castiel, who is really sensitive to his 'attention'.

It's not a very graphic, or obscene story, but rather beautiful and perhaps endearing in its own way.
Their touches are invisible, and their Grace mostly does the talking for them. Castiel, although uncomfortable at first, is magnificent in his surrender. And I have to say, I swooned occasionally.  Especially when they added in the wings!! Damn, I'm such a sucker for wings. That part nearly brought me to my knees.
This very short story, is a real must-read!

A short segment;

On the levelling on his head, he turned to face Castiel again and his breath caught. The angel had turned halfway and was looking at him steadily, eyes glowing with desire and lips parted just enough to make Gabriel’s interest perk up almost unbearably. Please, he heard in his mind, echoing the hitch in Castiel’s voice he knew he’d have if they were alone. Please, Gabriel.

And damn it. He could never say no, especially when Castiel looked at him like that, all ruffled, grace sliding against his and wings quivering with restrained pleasure. Oh hell yeah.

He poured more grace out, enveloping the younger angel, caressing his face, pressing down on where he knew Castiel needed it most. He felt more than saw the beautiful wings arching upwards when the human body jerked.

Distantly, he noticed that the Winchesters had stopped bickering, their faces slowly flushing as burgeoning realization hit them. With equally horrified looks switching from Gabriel’s hungry, intent stare at the younger angel and Castiel’s soft, erratic pants – this was a diner for fuck’s sake! – they shifted awkwardly and tried to focus back onto their suddenly uninteresting dinners. No way were they going to look. Dean reminded himself to bleach his eyes out later.

Gabriel knew Castiel was beautiful, but unrestrained, in all his glory, Castiel was breathtaking. He heard his brother’s breath speeding up and Gabriel felt an impossibly strong urge to lean over and touch, but he wanted to watch. His cock throbbed dangerously when Castiel pressed a wing forward and slid it between the two of his. All six of them stretched out eagerly to touch the other’s grace, and the pulse of desire he felt was almost enough to unravel his control.


The wing! I need to go and watch Lucifer Rising now. For visualization's sake.
I would say more, but I'm dying a little bit and this angel h00r is in desperate need of a breather.
See you soon!

Shirley Out!

Angelic Thursday : The Littlest Hunter

The story I found is very different from what you are used from me. For starters, it isn't R-rated, but PG-13. And secondly, it's not slash, hell, there's not even mention of anything sexual. But it's the most adorable story I've read, and I just had to rec it to you guys.

The Littlest Hunter by _bluebells 

Castiel has disobeyed, chosing his friend Dean over his Heavenly brothers. As punishment Gabriel sends him back in time...as a child! That's right. Castiel, a once big, strong angel now finds himself trapped in a mini-version of himself with hardly any power. He is cornered by demons in a barn, and takes them out. Or so he thinks, because later we discover that he didn't have enough juice to actually kill them and they come back. 

It's right after the flash of angelic light, that John stumbles upon the boy. He's confused by this little boy, bleeding and standing over several demons. Not to mention, highly suspicious. Despite his doubt about the child, he takes him home. 

Little Sammy instantly takes a liking to the small angel, but not Dean. Dean doesn't trust him, at all. If his initial greeting by shoving a shotgun in Castiel's face is anything to go by, I think it's fair to say this isn't the relationship Castiel had hoped for. 

Poor Castiel is heartbroken about the fact that his best friend doesn't like him in this time. He's willing to do anything to get 'back' in his good graces. It's not an easy road, but slowly he does become part of the family. 

Even despite his curiosities, like not sleeping and his perpetual confusion over the most common affairs. 

 

Castiel believes he is send back for a reason, and tries his hardest to change the drastic events in 'his' brothers lives, so that they will not jumpstart the Apocalypse. When they come face to face with Azazel, the Winchesters can no longer deny that everything the little angel said was true. He's even willing to offer up his life, as long as the family will do things differently now. 

Whether or not it's necessary, you'll just have to find out. 

Here's a little taste of this amazing story;

The thing in the car park yelps in panic when Dean cocks the shotgun, there’s a crash of glass bottles against the gravel but then John is yanking the shotgun out of his hands.

Dean jumps in shock, glares between the car park and his Dad.

“What the hell, Dad? Something followed you, hurry up and –“

John’s firm hand settles heavily on his shoulder and Dean stops.

What happened to ‘shoot first, ask questions later’?

He shakes his head, not understanding and looks back into the car park seeing only the Impala and the other parked cars of the motel residents. He swears to himself, thinking whatever it was had escaped.

“Castiel,” John barks and Dean squints through the poor light of the overhead streetlamps. “It’s all right. Come on out.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he looks into his father’s face. “Dad?”

“Dean.”

John squeezes his shoulder, eyes serious and Dean forces the thudding in his chest to slow down. It’s a physical ache to calm the adrenalin, the muscles in his chest and arms straining as he pulls back, but he’s learned not to argue with that voice.

“Trust me,” John says, softer this time, “It’s all right.”

Dean stares as a small child, younger than Sammy, shuffles into the light. Brown messy hair, blue eyes and dirty, he looks like his parents had dressed him for church in a small but ill-fitted suit with a cream overcoat thrown on as an afterthought. That must have been a long time ago. His clothes are stained in mud and blood.

Dean feels an awful dread settle in the pit of his stomach that he can’t explain, but this kid… this kid….

He shakes his head, knowing that this is a bad idea. “Dad….?”

But John isn’t looking at his son anymore. John jerks his head towards the open motel doorway.

“Hurry up and get inside, boys.”

Castiel’s wary gaze flits between John and his son and he quickens his shuffle to an awkward run. Dean backs into the room before him. Glancing inside, he sees Sam hovering by the television where their Dad had swept him before stepping out to intervene and he quickly steps into Castiel’s path.

Castiel barely comes up to Dean’s shoulder and Dean’s prepared for when the boy slams into him head-on with a stunned ‘mmph!’. Dean catches him before he can fall backwards.

“Take your coat off,” Dean mutters, conscious of Sam who was probably peering around to see what’s going on.

Castiel pouts in confusion, brows furrowed and Dean glances at his Dad for permission.

John understands, nodding and Castiel whines in complaint when Dean shoves the coat off of his shoulders, rolls the bloody garment up under his arm and is thankful to see there’s only mud visible on the rest of him.

“All right, come on,” Dean says reluctantly and steps aside.

Looking severely put upon, Castiel trundles inside and John takes the bloody overcoat from Dean when he follows. Dean casts one last look into the car park and locks the door behind them.

He’s surprised when he reaches for his shotgun, but his Dad stows it under the pillow of the third unused bed instead. He slides Castiel’s soiled overcoat into his duffel bag out of sight. John’s eyes are stern and Dean snorts a breath of frustration, hands fisting at his sides, he glares at their visitor instead.

Inside the considerably warmer motel room, Castiel is standing in the middle of the carpet, arms in their overlong-sleeves softly bouncing against his sides. He keeps looking between all his company and Dean thinks he sees the beginnings of a small, tentative smile.

It pisses him off.

“Dad,” Sam pipes up and Dean puffs up with a smirk because he knows that tone, he knows that face on his brother that’s so carefully, pointedly blank as he looks expectantly from Castiel to their father. That’s the face before the tantrum, the face that would normally sweep Dean into damage control, but today he thinks he’s going to let Sammy introduce himself.

Sam points outright at Castiel. “Who’s this?”

John looks between the three boys in the motel room, but Dean notices with some chagrin that his Dad is focusing on him.

“Boys, this is Castiel.”

Castiel’s lips don’t quite make it into that smile Dean can see brimming, but he looks hopefully between the brothers. Dean’s eyes narrow when Castiel’s gaze lingers on him and those blue eyes are quickly averted.

“Castiel, this is Sam and Dean,” John’s voice is level and Dean just wants him to spit out the order he knows is coming.

“What’s he doing here, Dad?” Dean interrupts when Castiel opens his mouth and quickly shuts it.

John’s look is not approving. “Castiel needs our help, boys. We’re going to help him get back to his family.”

“You sure you’re not an orphan?” Dean quips, gleeful at the dark look his father turns on him out of the corner of his eye. He can already feel the hit that’ll eventually find the back of his head, but, whatever. He can pay for it later.

Dean’s taken aback when Castiel’s face falls and he looks at his feet. “I think I am.”

“Why?” John asks.

Castiel can’t quite hold John’s gaze. “It – my brother told me father was dead.”

“What?” Sam blurts and Dean thinks that this is probably one of those conversations where he should cover Sam’s ears.

“So… you’ve got a brother,” Dean says loudly, intent to muffle Sam’s quiet horror, “That means you’ve still got family.”

Castiel’s fumbling with his sleeves, twisting the cuffs over and over in his tiny hands held almost to his chin. “But -- m-my brothers are no longer my brothers.”

“Brothers?” Dean raises his eyebrows at the new plural, wondering why this kid speaks so weirdly, but his father gives him no cues and then there’s an uncomfortable, familiar hiccupping whimper and he realises that Castiel is sniffling against his sleeves.

“O-oh, come on,” Sam startles and quickly goes to Castiel’s side. Sam’s not much taller than Castiel and he hovers awkwardly as the smaller boy hides his face in his dirty suit sleeves. When the whimper becomes a keen, Sam holds Castiel’s shoulder and clumsily pats the patch between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Dean deflates: Sammy, you traitor.

This story is truly amazing. Even if you don't usually like Wee!Castiel - Wee!chester stories, you'll find that this one might surprise you. I was sceptical at first too, but it truly converted me. I LOVE this fic. 

To bluebells; Keep up the good work, sweetheart. This was some excellent piece of work. 

And that's it. See you soon!

Shirley Out!

Fanfiction in the Spotlight: Because you're mine

I wish to turn the first spotlight on 'Because You're Mine' by linseyloveandtea. Now, a fair warning to all the people who don't like slash, this is not the story for you. It's a delicious, fingerlicking Destiel story, and we all know what that means.

In this story that finds place after 'Caged Heat', Dean is troubled by the fact that Cas is attracted to Meg. He ponders about it all night, and no matter how much he wants to, he just can't stop thinking about it.
When Cas appears, having heard Dean call out to him in his sleep, things get clearer.

Unable to deny their attraction any longer, Dean and Castiel share a wonderful night of passion, followed by a loving revelation.

Here's a short segment from this wonderful story;

"Hello, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat out of embarrassment, trying to shake off the surprise that was probably all over his face. He started to approach the angel curiously.

"Cas… I thought… you were busy with your crazy angel war upstairs…?"

Cas broke eye contact with Dean, looking at the floor.

"Yes… the war is continuing on without me. I will have to return soon to establish order. I just… suppose I wanted to offer you company."

Dean felt a twinge of annoyance and confusion. "Company?" he asked. "I thought your problems were bigger than ours. You made that kind of clear the last few times you were around. Didn't think you had time for little pit stops."

Cas's mouth twitched, his eyes still lingering on the floor.

"Yes, but, I sensed distress down here."

Dean was confused. Distress? What the hell is he talking about?

"Cas, nothing has been happening since we saw Crowely. What distress are you even talking about? If there was some shit going down, I would have prayed to you. And I haven't."

"You have." Cas finally looked up with him, his eyes wide but sure, the cerulean blue staring deep into Dean.

He swallowed, still confused. A small, sarcastic grin. "I think I would remember if I had prayed to you, Cas." But Castiel was shaking his head before he even finished. Dean's brow furrowed.

"No. You…" Cas' eyes searched Dean's a little more thoroughly, his head tilting curiously. Dean's heart was pounding, now. "Forgive me. You were calling out to me in your sleep…"

And that's when Dean's stomach dropped. He what? "I what?" he blurted out without thought.

Castiel stood then, and Dean felt his face burn, and he cursed himself silently for it. Cas stepped towards him, his blue eyes never leaving the man's green. The intensity of his gaze and the new proximity made Dean look away now, fully embarrassed and speechless. There was absolute silence. Dean felt he should say something, cover up for it, make up some stupid fucking excuse but he couldn't. The part of him that wanted to tell Cas everything, to hold onto him, all the urges he ever felt were fighting to his surface- which Dean told himself he'd never allow. He never expected to be cornered like this. Never-

If you want to read more, and get down to the spicy stuff, you will have to go read it. Do it now!
Also, I want to compliment linseyloveandtea for writing a Castiel that is so alike the one we get to watch every week. His choice of words, his reserved manner, and his awkwardness at first, really reminds me of the real deal.

Wonderfully done!