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The ABC's of Supernatural (and its ships)

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At what is now being called the peak of one of the greatest secret organizations of all time, there was little they didn’t know. But one thing they were not expecting was to be almost completely wiped out by a knight of hell.

Abaddon was ruthless, relentless, and downright unstoppable, priding herself on single-handedly eradicating the whole Men of Letters. Thus leaving it in control of our favorite legacies Dean and Sam Winchester.

“So get this,” Sam came strolling into the map room of the bunker holding a book. “I think I found the last entry a Man of Letters wrote. But it just cuts off like something happened to him.”

“I happened to him.” Abaddon had broken through the bunker’s wardings and casually walked down the stairs to both hunters.

“And who the hell are you?” Dean slowly reached for his gun while standing.

“Have you not heard of me? Abaddon, knight of hell, at your service.” She smirked and with the flick of her wrist sent Sam soaring across the room and into the wall, knocking him out.

“SAM!” Dean yelled then glared at the demon. “No one hurts my brother and gets away with it,” he growled then cocked his gun. “I don’t know why you are here, but it’s a great place for you to die.”

Dean fired the gun but Abaddon just yawned and held up her hand, effectively stopping the bullet in mid-air. “Is that the best you got, kiddo?” She looked at him unimpressed. “I’ve seen better moves from dead guys.”

“Have you now?” Dean instantly put on a smolder and walked up to her. “Want to tell me more about that, sweetcheeks?”

“Oh, you wish, Winchester.” She reached and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close to her. “How about we talk… alone?” Her gaze fell on Sam who was still on the ground but trying to move.

“Whatever you want to say can be said with him here.” He moved in just a little closer, almost pressing his body into hers. “Besides, he can’t hear you anyway.”

“You’re right.” Her red painted lips curled up into a devious grin and she leaned in even more. She was mere inches from his face.

Dean’s hand quickly came out from behind him with a blade attached. With the one swift move, her head was off and rolling away. “That will have to do for now.” He rolled his eyes and then ran over to make sure that Sam was okay.

Abaddon’s now headless body started to crawl to her head, picking it up before standing upright. “This isn’t over. I’ll be back and I will win. This little set back isn’t going to stop me, so you two better watch out.”

Dean carefully watched as she left, glaring the whole time. “What a psycho. Come on, Sammy, let’s get you standing.”

"Thanks, Dean. Man, that bitch is crazy." Sam let out an airy chuckle. "How do you suspect we kill her?"

"No idea, Sammy. But let's work on that."

Chapter Text

What Dean Winchester does on his own time is no ones business, not even Sam’s. So what if he washed his car in just a tank top and cut off jean shorts. So what if while he did it he imagined Cas helping him getting all soapy and… okay, that’s enough of that.

One day Baby was extra dirty. “Sam, i’ll be in the garage. Don’t bother me unless someone we personally know is dying or dead.” He warned him then slipped off to go clean his most prized possession.

“Dean,” Cas appeared behind him while he reached to soap up the hood. “You called?”

“N-n-no?” He jumped and his eyes widened. “I w-wouldn’t… why would I… I’m just washing the car… I didn’t… oh crap…”

Cas tilted his head slightly and squinted. “Dean, I heard you clear as day that you wanted me to come.”

Dean froze and instantly traced back his thoughts over the last five minutes. “Cas… That’s not exactly what I meant. Also, you really need to stop reading my thoughts. It’s kinda creepy, man.” He tossed the sponge in the soapy water bucket then got back to work cleaning the car.

Castiel took off his trench coat and put it on a nearby car along with his suit jacket. “Dean, I may be an angel, and don’t normally know a lot of human things, but I know what you mean.” He stepped closer to him, head tilt remaining steady.

“Cas, we talked about this… personal space?” Dean could hear his heart beating in his head. This scenario was everything he had dreamed about and for Cas to actually be here at this moment was making it hard for him to breathe.

“Dean, just relax, you and I both know this isn’t the first time. So why are you acting like you don’t know what I am talking about?” Cas looked at him with large piercing blue eyes. Not even missing a beat, he grabbed Dean by the shirt and pulled him into a hard, bruising kiss.

Dean kissed him back, feverishly, wrapping his hand around Cas’ tie. He pulled him even closer. “We just need to be quiet. I don’t need Sam coming in here.”

Castiel reached behind him and opened the back door to the Impala. Taking the hint, Dean moved and practically shoved the angel into the back. With a quick snap, Cas had removed their clothes. “Ah yes, my favorite outfit of yours.” Dean crawled in and closed the door behind him. With a lustful smile on his lips, he started to trail kisses along Cas’ chest and abdomen. “My angel in my baby,” he hummed and licked a stripe along Cas’ shaft.

Licking his fingers he slowly pressed them into his angel’s hole. “Oh you’re tight, baby.” His lips wrapped around the hardened cock before him and he started to suck while working him open.

“Dean!” Cas called out. “Please don’t tease me.”

“So impatient, baby.” He licked a stripe up the length and removed his hand, replacing it slowly with his thickness. “Guhh…” he moaned out. “Oh shit.” He began at a slow pace but quickly increased his speed.

The whole Impala was shaking back and forth. Dean was very grateful for Sam’s love of books at this moment.

While he thrusted hard and deep, Dean’s lips attached to the side of Cas’ neck, sucking an impressive hickey to the side like a hoover. “That makes you all mine, my angel.” He growled into his ear.

“Always… yours…” Cas moaned out, his fingers digging into Dean’s shoulder blades.

“I want you to come for me, baby.” Dean snapped his hips a few times before bluntly reaching between them to match his pace with his hand on Cas’ cock.

“Dean… Dean… DEAN!” He almost screamed as he reached his climax and shot between the two of them.

“Oh yes… CAS!” Just feeling him come from his touch sent Dean over the edge himself, filling him up with his own hot load. He collapsed on top of him, panting hard. “God, I love you Cas.” He breathed out on his neck.

“I love you too, Dean. But can you keep my father out of this?”

Dean snorted and sat up. “I will if you give me my clothes back,” he said with a smile.

A single snap later, and Dean was returned to the clothes he was wearing. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Cas kissed Dean quickly one last time before vanishing.

“Friggin’ angels.” Dean shook his head and returned to cleaning his baby.

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The name Clarence is a boy's name of Latin origin meaning "bright".

Clarence Odbody (born May 1653) is a fictional angel in Frank Capra's 1946 film “It's a Wonderful Life” where he was portrayed by Henry Travers, and in the 1990 sequel, Clarence, where he was played by Robert Carradine.

Clarence is an American animated television series created by Skyler Page for Cartoon Network. The series revolves around a young boy named Clarence and his two best friends Jeff and Sumo. Page, a former storyboard artist for Adventure Time and revisionist for Secret Mountain Fort Awesome, developed the series at Cartoon Network Studios as part of their shorts development program in 2012.

But neither of those mattered to Meg. The only one that ended up mattering, in the end, was her own unicorn, Castiel. But to her, he was not Cas. He was not just some angel. He was Clarence. Just Clarence. Her own guardian angel, or so she would like to claim. Despite him going to save Dean from hell, she did in fact feel a special connection with him. In the end, she was kind of good, which sucked to her, and he was kind of bad, which she actually found very hot. Even the way he looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about, made her all dewey.

The pizza man was a good memory for Castiel. He also enjoyed recalling it with Meg. If he knew that that conversation about it would have been his last, he would have replicated it again. He would have done what she suggested and moved some furniture around. Just the thought of what could have happened with her lingered on his mind for weeks after.

‘Why couldn’t I save her?’ ‘Why couldn't it have been me?’ Thoughts like these ran in his mind a lot following that night. He would frequently disappear without Dean and Sam knowing and just go stand where she died, silently.

It’s been months since then, and he is sitting alone, nursing the last of Meg’s bottle of tequila. No one dared to bother him. The look he gave alone was fearful enough. The alcohol never got him drunk. It would take much more than that. Just remembering her lips once touched the bottle sent a wave of human emotion through the angel.

He wished there was a way to bring her back. Even though she was a demon, there was something selfless about her that made her not so bad.

Part of Castiel wished that he would still be called Clarence, even though he still didn’t know why she called him that in the first place.

It wasn’t until months after her death that Christmas rolled around and “It’s a Wonderful Life” came on the TV that he truly knew.

Have you ever seen an angel cry? Like really cry? Hearing the guardian angel being called Clarence made Castiel’s walls fall, and for the first time since her demise, he let himself cry.

Dean and Sam never fully understood why. Mainly because Castiel never talked about it. He always kept it to himself. That was until his emotions started to shift to someone else that he was able to forget about her and move on.

Chapter Text

Sam was growing tired of Dean and Cas’ shenanigans at night. It had been the same thing; eat, uncomfortable stares, Dean saying he is going to bed early, Cas just… disappearing and then obvious banging and crashing noises coming from Dean’s room. Sam had had enough and took the keys to a random car from the garage, leaving Dean’s precious baby, and took off to anywhere else not in the state of Kansas.

This was probably a good thing, considering Castiel was in a particularly good mood that night and boy did he want to reciprocate that to Dean.

Having ditched most of his clothes on the floor of Dean’s room, Castiel locked eyes with his hunter and climbed in his lap. “Sam just left,” he said, having felt his energy leave the bunker. “You can be as loud as you want.” Castiel’s lips practically sucked in Dean’s.

“Oh, Cas…” Dean mewled. “And just how are you going to make me be loud?” He looked into what were once ocean blue eyes, now darkened a few shades.

Cas didn’t say a single word. He just silently started to remove Dean’s clothes like he was peeling a delicate piece of fruit. Article after article of clothing flew across the room till they were both completely nude. Then and only then did Castiel answer him. “If you don’t know the answer by now, I’m not going to tell you, Dean.” Eyes sunk lower and a tongue flicked out of Cas’ mouth leaving over Dean’s chest.

Cas bypassed the twitching hardened cock right next to his nose and went lower. While his hand mindlessly stroked him, his tongue lapped and danced around the waiting hole. Having quickly and blatantly used his angel powers for purely selfish reasons and made sure that Dean was very clean, his wet muscle jammed right into his entrance with a pleased hum.

Dean gasped loudly. “Cas!” His hands slapped down on the bed and fists clenched the sheets tightly. Cas continued to lap him up, enjoying every little squirm he could get out of Dean. He finally pulled his face away and not so gently flipped his hunter over, pulling his hips up to meet him with a strong snap.

He pressed in and set a steady pace. Again using his grace, he made sure Dean felt no pain. Holding onto either side of Dean’s hips firmly, he used them as leverage to pound into him. Both men moaned loudly, causing Cas to move faster. Cas loved the noises Dean made. He loved watching him fall apart because of the pleasure Cas brought him. Dean clutched his shoulders firmly and started bucking his hips back to meet Cas’.

He knew Dean was close. He didn't want this to end so quickly, but he was close too. He slowed down and leaned in for a long, passionate kiss. Dean’s breathing was ragged. “Cas, baby, harder, please,” he mewled.

His plea stirred the hunger in Cas. He snapped his hips with a force that had Dean crying out his name. One more snap and Dean was screaming for more. Cas set a fast pace and watched his lover come undone.

“Cas!” Dean cried out, his voice broken and wrecked at the same time. His walls clenched tightly around Cas, causing him to call out Dean’s name and collapse on top of him. “I love you, Dean,” he whispered.

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The end of the world should have been violent, loud and bitter, filled with the sounds of death. Instead, it is a piercing silence that cuts through the air with an occasional gunshot or echoed shout. What's left behind of the world that once held a vibrant shine is now brought down to a smoldering pile of disintegrated foundations, a memory of a once vivacious, lively time. Everything that once was gone.

Shattered glass and debris litters the roads. The smell of death hung low in the air as Dean swings the half-empty duffel bag over his shoulder. Day 2 and he's barely managed to scrounge up enough to feed 2 people. He can't go back, not now, not until he has a sufficient amount of sustenance to feed the remaining 7 people at camp. Everyone else is either dead or —— well dead. His mind floats to Cas; the now dead stare behind those bright blue eyes sends a shiver through his weakened body. He's barely eaten in the last 2 days, but now isn't the time to focus on himself. Dean sighs to himself and pushes open a door barely hanging off its hinges and steps inside. The pungent smell of rot hits him with force. A hand shoots up to cover his mouth and nose. The ground of what looks like an old clothing store is covered in dirt and rusted shelves. Blood-soaked ripped clothing lay scattered. It's almost unbearable but he pushes through, mindlessly kicking at the covered ground. He glances around once more before settling on the notion to move on. There's nothing here.

The clouds hang low in the sky. It's barely evening and he's achieved next to nothing. But the lack of food and hydration is making him weaker. The thought of leaving the group waiting for another day has his empty stomach churning, but what choice does he have? He chose to go alone. No one else stuck out their heads, offering to help. Cas, being too high to even comprehend his words, lay in a puddled mess on the flattened mattress while Dean rambled about this and that. A weak head nod from the other indicating his barely registered understanding had Dean leaving in a huff.

A low growl pulls Dean out of his reverie, attention moving towards the sound. The night was creeping up fast and he’d have to find shelter, the night terrors beginning to stir. Green orbs dart frantically around him, settling on the nearest semi-stable building. He manages to scrape up enough energy to jog over to the entrance, stepping cautiously inside. A darkened corner catches his eye and he saunters over, setting the near empty bag down. The absence of the dull weight has a soft groan leaving his dried lips as he sinks to the floor.

The last haunting image that finds him is one of Cas; a slumped figure in a chair alone and subdued. He's the reason Dean is out here. Finding food to keep himself and the former angel alive is his motivation. Heavy eyelids slip closed as he whispers a prayer that won't be heard.

”I'm coming home, Cas. Just hang on.”

Chapter Text

“Can I be honest with you?” Sam sighed, sitting at the end of his bed next to Gabriel - or what he could only assume was the angel.
“What’s up, Sammy?” He murmured, leaning his head against Sam’s shoulder, batting his eyelashes up at him.
“I… I don’t know how to say this, so I’m going to word vomit and hope you understand. Does that sound reasonable?”
At a nod from the angel, Sam took a steadying breath before he began.
“I don’t think I can do this,” He murmured, holding up a hand to stop Gabriel from saying anything. “It’s just that… I never really can know if it’s you. After you so perfectly faked your death, angel blade and charred wings across the floor and all, I never really can know if I’m actually with you, or with a clone. You can make it seem like it’s you. Touches, words, magic, even pretending to get stuck in a trap or being injured by a blade. I don’t have a definitive way of knowing that you really are… you. And I can’t do that, you understand? Being with someone, I can’t constantly have it in the back of my head that you aren’t really you. That you’re off doing something or someone and I’m here with a clone thinking it’s you.
Sam paused, looking up from his hands in his lap, taking in the hurt look on Gabriel’s face.
“It’s not because I think you’d do it out of malicious intent, but out of pity? You’re an archangel, why would you honestly want to be stuck on someone like- why would you wanna be stuck with me? I’m human, I was Lucifer’s vessel. I tried to kill you multiple times, and Dean and I forced you to help us stop the apocalypse when you didn’t want to. It’s more of a disbelief that you genuinely would want to spend time with me.”
Sam finished and dropped his gaze back to his hands in his lap, pursing his lips. Gabriel was quiet. He’d sat up straight and actually gone to the length of standing up and moving to the other end of the room. He was currently staring at Sam’s dresser a bit absently, choosing instead to think before responding.
“I won’t be mad if it’s what you’re actually doing, you know? I just… want to know if I need to start moving on, rather than continue living this.”
“Have I ever magicked myself into the bunker?” Gabriel asked softly, looking up at Sam’s reflection in the mirror before him.
“I-No. No, not that I can remember. Why are you asking?”
“I always have to go somewhere else to show you any magic I can do, right?”
“Yeah, but-” “Dean is here, right?” Gabriel asked, running his fingers distractedly over the wood in front of him.
“Yeah. He and Cas were settling down to watch Ghostbusters earlier. Why?”
“Ask them for the book on the wards for the bunker.”
Sam furrowed his brow as he stood, curling his fingers into fists before flexing his hands. “Why? How do I know you didn’t just make it up? That even they aren’t clones?”
Gabriel closed his eyes and let his shoulders drop, sighing weakly. “I guess I should have seen this coming eventually.”
“Hey, what-?”
Gabriel was already walking out of the room, shaking his head. Sam followed him closely, reaching for his shoulder. “Hey, wait-”
“No, Sam. I won’t be able to convince you, so I’m not going to try. I know what you’re saying, so I’m just… leaving. I’ll keep the phone on me in case you guys need me for anything.”
Sam stayed in the hallway just outside of their room, watching Gabriel until he disappeared around the corner to the stairs. He wasn’t going to try and dwell on it for long, because Gabe was right - he’d never be able to really convince Sam it was really him. With all of the tricks he could pull, he’d never know for sure that the man he was kissing or holding or just… watching was actually Gabriel.
His phone went off and pulled him from his thoughts, a text from Castiel flashing across his screen.

You really are a dumbass

He rolled his eyes and set his phone on his bedside table. Instead of facing the wrath of the other angel, he decided on the simpler path - taking off his socks and pants and crawling under his sheets. Sleeping was better than trying to deal with a righteous Castiel.





When Sam finally woke up the next morning, there was a thick book on his bedside table with a note in Dean’s chicken scratch on top.
‘Cas suggested you read this. You apparently did something stupid. Fix it, I don’t wanna hunt with your mopey ass’
He couldn’t help a small smile as he opened the book, glancing over the first few pages.

“Hey, Kev. I know you’re supposed to be on break from us, but I have a question I have to ask you real quick.”
“I know I can’t ever really get a break from the Winchester’s. Shoot, Sam.”
“You wrote a book of everything you translated from the angel tablet?”
“You found it? I thought Castiel hid it in the bunker.”
“I’m guessing he did. Gabe and I had a small fight, but I just wanted to know… Do you remember everything you wrote about warding and sigils for angels? I just need to know this isn’t magicked…”
“Sam, I really don’t have time for this,” Kevin sighed. He yelled something to someone on his end of the call, his hand muffling it. “What do you need to know, specifically?”
“The section on banning angel magic with a ward, is it real? I remember you said that you added a curse that anyone reading it with malicious or misguided intent would see fake rituals.” He had reason to ask. Reading this to prove the one he loved was lying? It wasn’t a matter of life or death, it was him being a dumbass and trying to rectify his broken love life.
“It’s real, Sam. Castiel and I performed it a while ago and sealed it in so any meetings there would truly be on neutral ground. An angel blade can’t be used inside the bunker, neither can their wings. They can’t even perform healing magic within the walls.”
“And it works even with archangels?”
“You mean with Gabriel? Yes, Sam. Even Gabe can’t use his powers down there.”
“Say the code word, please.”
“Sam, why? What happened?”
“Just say it, please? The one I told you before we met Gabe. I need to know this is really you.”
Sam sat back against his headboard, sighing heavily. “Thank you.”
“Can I go, now?”
“Yeah, enjoy yourself. And thanks, again.”
“Yeah, yeah. Later.”

“Dean? I got your text. You needed help with Fenrir? Could’ve sworn I killed- oh.” Gabriel’s shoes stopped their descending clunking noises as he caught Sam and noticed the distinct lack of everyone but said man.
“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to right now, but… Give me a second? Please?”
“You’re not the last person I want to talk to. And you didn’t have to trick me to get me here. I probably would’ve gotten here quicker if I’d known it was you,” Gabriel shrugged, sitting at the chair at the head of the table and propping his feet up. “So, Fenrir? Miss the troublemaker, but he had to be taken down. Ah, he could level a city in minutes.”
“I’m not here to talk about a damn dog, Gabe,” Sam huffed, getting to his feet and walking to the far end of the room, focusing a little too hard on the sword in front of him. Which is why he jumped at Gabriel’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you’re asking forgiveness. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t ask you, or let you talk,” Sam huffed, closing his eyes and sagging his shoulders as Gabriel traced soft touches over his shoulder and the back of his neck.
“With good reason. You have no proof that anything I say is real.”
“I called Kevin.”
“I thought he was on vacation.”
“I classified it as an emergency. Cas and Dean were telling me to fix it.”
“So you disturbed the Scribe on his much-needed vacation to get proof I wasn’t lying? Because your brother and his wingman were giving you shit?” Gabriel snorted, leaning into Sam’s side. “You really are a drama queen.”
“Ignoring the opinion that definitely came from my brother, but yes. And because I kind of… I wanted some proof. That it really was you, is you. And… I think I’m satisfied. This was more to ask you what I could do to get your trust back, or whatever.”
“I really want to take the high road and tell you that I completely understand where you’re coming from and that you don’t have to do anything, but I honestly spent a little too much time crying in the last 48 hours.”
“You cried over me?” Sam smirked, bending down to kiss Gabriel’s forehead. “That’s gay.”
“You’re in a gay relationship, genius. Everything we do is and forever will be gay.”
“What gay thing do I have to do to get you to forgive me?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“I didn’t walk in here with some elaborate plan to get you to obtain my forgiveness, Sam! I didn’t think I’d make it this far.”
“Do you need time to think it over?”
“Maybe. But I also missed you a little too much,” Gabriel sighed, leaning heavily against Sam and closing his eyes. “If I could sleep I probably wouldn't have. I couldn't even relax,” He muttered, turning to settle his cheek against Sam’s chest.
“I'm sorry. But I just couldn't do this if I never had proof or a way to know it really was you. You've messed with us so many times, and we’ve done the same, I didn’t know if this was some form of elaborate payback where you literally rip my heart out of my chest.”
“I guess that’s what you sign up for when you decide to fall in love with your enemy,” Gabriel smiled, leaning up to kiss Sam softly. “But that also means you’re stuck with me, now.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter Text

Gabriel, or more like a clone of him, laid on the cold ground in the alternate universe.

He would never admit to how scared he actually was to go in there and fight. He stood back as one of his last clones walked through the portal and out of his sight. He stayed behind and kept a tentative, but also a secretive eye on his older brother and Rowena.

Hearing Lucifer taunt Rowena made him flinch and cringe, bringing back memories of his own taunting. It took everything inside him to not reveal that he was there.

Once they were distracted, he finally got the courage to go into the portal. As soon as he crossed he was met eye to eye with what looked to be a mirror image of himself. Gabriel snapped to try to get rid of his clone but it didn’t budge.

“I’m not a clone, you asshat.” The other rolled his eyes. “I also know who you are. You are me, and I am you.”

“Why do you have to talk like that?” He raised an eyebrow. “Where is my clone anyway?”

“Gone. I knew as soon as he walked in it wasn’t real. So I took his spot. The others are probably looking for me right now.” The alternate Gabriel looked around.

“Should I even be here then? I mean, they have the full archangel powers with you here. I’m just gonna go.” He turned around to go back to his world.

“You should know, Sam Winchester is dead.” Those last four words caused Gabriel to freeze in his tracks.

He shook his head. “No… Sam can’t be dead.” He could feel his chest tighten.

“Come with me, I’ll show you.” With a snap, they were standing next to Sam’s lifeless body.

“Sam?” Gabriel bent down next to him while the other kept the vampires away. “Come on you gotta wake up.” His voice cracked slightly. “I don’t have enough juice to fix you, come on.”

“Someone is coming, Gabriel. We need to go.” With another snap, the alternate Gabe was hidden, leaving the other to mourn with everyone else.

Sitting on the verge of tears, Gabe sensed a familiar energy. Looking over, he saw Sam walk into the camp. A small gasp came from him and he stood to go over to him but was stopped by the sight of his brother.

Later that night, he met up with the other Gabe once more. “I can’t do this,” he admitted. “I need to stay alive, not for me, for him. When he gets back, he’s gonna need me. I can feel it. I need to go back. Now.” He didn’t give his counterpart any time to think before he used what grace he had to go back to the portal and sneak through it once more.

One everyone was back, the word that the other Gabriel had fallen spread fast. “Gabriel sacrificed his life so we could all be here today.” Sam raised his drink. “I wish I could thank him for being so selfless,” he mumbled and downed his fifth beer.

Almost stumbling back to his room, Gabriel came up behind him and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, sobering him up. “Take it easy, kiddo,” he said before taking off once more, leaving a shocked and confused Winchester behind.

To this day, no one believes Sam when he tells them that he saw and heard Gabe once more. They just contribute it to grief.

Chapter Text

The room was silent as the angel, and the younger Winchester sat there looking over cases that might peak their interest. “Have you heard anything from angel radio?” Sam was the first one to break the silence between them, the term always intrigued the angel.

“No, nothing yet.” Castiel replied, “As Dean might put it, my halo might be busted. ” A smug smile came on the angel’s face.

“Wait, did you just say halo?” Amusement glinting within the hunter’s eyes, watching the angel growing slightly nervous by the way he shifted in the chair that he sat in. Halos were the direct line to every angels grace, and were secret, just as their wings were.

“Yeah,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, trying to distract himself with the books that were set before him. However, Sam seemed to not drop the conversation, he got up and leaned against the table next to Castiel.

“Cas, you can’t just drop information like that, and not expect the person to leave it alone.” Sam’s face soften a bit noticing Castiel’s discomfort.

“Halos aren't that simple, Sam.” He looked up at the hunter and sighed. “It takes a lot to manifest them and only certain people can even see them.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Sam’s shoulders seemed to sink. “Can we at least try? Maybe there is something I can do to help out.”

Cas shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his chair. “Once, we can try once.” He finally agreed. Closing his eyes, he put all his focus on his halo. It took a minute, but it started to glow above his head.

“Wow, Cas. It’s beautiful.” Sam gushed. “Stop me if it hurts,” he said softly then reached out. He slowly ran a circle around the glowing loop, causing Cas to shudder.

“S-Sam?” Cas stuttered.

“Yes, Cas?” Sam stopped moving his hand.

Cas turned around and sat backward in the chair, looking up at Sam. “Do that again.”

“Oh, what it working?” Sam smiled and ran a finger around it once more. Cas’ eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head in pleasure and a moan escaped his lips. Sam’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening. Cas moaned again and the low almost primal growl of it went right to Sam’s cock.

Cas moved and kicked away the chair, opting to just stay on his knees. His vessel was breathing hard, chest heaving with anticipation on where Sam would touch next. Seeing Cas in such a submissive pose, Sam full on grabbed Cas’ halo, holding it fully in his hand. Cas gasped hard and now blackened eyes looked up at the hunter. “What do you want me to do?”

Sam smirked and unzipped his pants, pulling them down just enough to set his erection free. “The noises you made were so hot,” he muttered. Pulling on the halo, he brought Cas’ head in close and his dry looking lips wrapped around and engulfed his entire cock in his mouth. Sam took hold of the halo in both hands and used it almost like handlebars to keep Cas moving. “Oh, yeah.” Sam’s head threw back and let out a sensual breath.

Cas hummed while he bobbed, literally transforming him into an angel sized vibrator. Sam mewls grew louder, and the sensations he sent thru the halo were enough to cause Cas to climax inside his pants without even touching himself. His tongue flicked up and started to run circles around the tip of Sam’s cock. “C-cas!” Sam yelled and without any more warning, shot his load into the back of the angel's throat. Cas swallowed it all and released him, smiling at his accomplishment.

“I lied,” Cas said, standing up. “My halo works just fine. I just really wanted you to touch it.” He wiggled his eyebrows ala Gabriel, then kissed the hunter unexpectedly. “Now we should probably get going, there is a werewolf torturing a middle school in North Carolina.

“S-sure.” Sam composed himself and then got ready, following Cas quickly. “Think we could do that again sometime?”

“I would love to, Sam.” He snapped his halo away before they left.

Chapter Text

“Eat shit,” Claire says, then slices the vampire’s head off with one quick swing of her blade.

His head falls to the ground with a wet splat , the rest of his body following soon after. Claire crouches down and wipes the side of her blade with the fabric of his jacket. There’s already a smile forming on her face from the satisfaction of a job well done. Saving people and hunting things is all it was made up to be. It’s even better with Kaia by her side.

Turning, Claire says, “Hey, what do you say after this we grab a bite at the diner across–” Claire quiets when her eyes fall on Kaia’s still form, slumped next to the body of the other vamp. There’s blood matting the side of Kaia’s neck, which Claire hopes against hope is the vamp’s and not hers.

“Kaia!” Claire shouts. Her panic increases tenfold when Kaia doesn’t move or say anything. Claire stares for a moment, mouth agape, then darts forward to kneel by Kaia’s side. Her blade slips out of her hand, clanging against the concrete floor of the warehouse.

Claire’s hands instinctively go to cup Kaia’s face, and she exhales in relief when she feels a faint heartbeat trembling underneath the tips of her fingers. Claire’s eyes rake over Kaia’s body, searching for signs of a wound, but she sees nothing.

Kaia’s heartbeat suddenly tapers off. Dreads curls down Claire’s spine. No, no, no . “Kaia, please wake up, I don't know what I would do if I lost you. I need you” Then she says, in a voice barely above a whisper, “I love you.”

Kaia still doesn't move. Of course she doesn’t. A sob chokes through Claire, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. She hangs her head, her eyes slipping closed. Kaia is probably dead and gone. After all,  why wouldn’t she be? Everyone Claire loves leaves her. She shouldn’t hope for more.

A quiet “Claire” has her eyes snapping open. The heartbeat under the hands is faint, but steady. Kaia is looking at her in shock.

“You’re– you’re alive,” Claire stutters out.

“Yes” is all Kaia says. Her voice is creaky. 

A smile spreads across Claire’s face. She’s more happy than she could ever put into words. “Well, no dental floss stitching for you. I’m taking you to the hospital Alex works out to get you checked out. And then we’re taking a break from hunting for a while.”

Kaia still looks wide-eyed, so Claire reassures her, “And I’ll make sure the nurses and doctors don't see your scars.”

“Thank you,” Kaia says. Claire puts a hand under her elbow to help pull Kaia to her feet. They’re at eye level now, and Claire gives her a shy smile that Kaia returns. “Hey, umm, did you mean it?” Kaia asks softly. “What you said when you thought I wasn’t awake?”

Claire doesn’t have to ask what she means. “Yes. Yes I did.” It feels like the start of something.

Chapter Text

Alex had just gotten home from a late shift at the hospital and was taking a shower when Jody’s phone rang.

She smiled. “Hey, Dean, what's the bad news this time?” Usually only Sam called her with good news. Dean had only called with good news once which was to tell her Cas was back from the dead and he told him how he felt. The angel had felt the same way.

She could hear him sigh heavily. “I'm sending Donna to you. Doug just dumped her. She's trying to be tough,” Dean sounded like he really cared.

“She's always got a place here. I have a spare room now that Claire is doing her own thing,” she replied.

“Jody, I'm not stupid. Don't be like me and not tell her. You never know how she feels,” his voice cracked. She could picture him wiping his face with his hand. “Tell her or I will.”

“Dean, she just got her heartbroken. I can't try to take advantage of that,” she said. She didn't hear the water of the shower stop.

Unbeknownst to Jody, Alex had heard the last part of the conversation between the sheriff and the hunter. She smiled and went to her room silently.

Jody finished talking to Dean and told him to call with good news next time. The next evening Donna showed up at her door, eyes red and puffy. She pulled the woman into a hug and into the house.

“Donna, you stay as long as you like,” Jody said. “Take Claire’s room. She hasn't been home in a few months now.”

Donna didn't miss how much Jody missed Claire. “I'm sure she’ll be home soon, Jody. I bet she misses you, but because she’s Claire, she’ll never say it.”

Jody smiled softly. “Yeah, you know my girls pretty well. I gotta go finish dinner.”

Alex slipped into the room right after Jody left. “Ice cream in the freezer has been restocked. Don't worry, I got the healthy kind. The non-dairy stuff so you're not breaking your weird salt ruins good food diet.”

Donna turned to look at the perceptive girl. “Who hasn't heard?”

Alex shrugged. “Claire.” Donna smiled. Alex gave her a comforting look. “Jody likes chick flicks, but you didn't hear it from me. You don't have to be alone.”

Donna hugged the girl. “I'm with family. How can I be alone?”

Alex made an excuse to leave the room a moment later. Donna joined Jody in the kitchen. “Can I help?”

Jody was almost done with the food. “Sure. Here, make sure this tastes okay.” She held out a spoon of the sauce she was making. She internally kicked herself as she realized how cheesy it was.

Donna slurped the sauce and got a little on her cheek. Jody resisted the urge to kiss it off her. Donna grinned. “It tastes great! I'll set the table.”

Jody sighed when Donna left her sight. Dean's advice had been bouncing around in her head. She was the only one Dean had confided in about his feelings for Castiel, and she knew how devastated he was at losing him without admitting his feelings. Then he got lucky and Cas was back. He had called Jody when he had admitted his feelings to the angel. If Dean Winchester could do it, Jody could.

“Hey, after dinner, would you wanna watch a movie with me?” Donna asked. “Just keep my mind off of Doug.”

“Sure, anything you want to watch?” Jody asked with a smile. She knew now wasn't the right time to admit to feelings for the woman. “I also have Netflix.”

“Just a comedy. Or something girly, if you don't mind,” Donna replied. “You like musicals?”

Jody grinned. “As long as you don't tell Sam or Dean. Those two would never let me live it down. Mamma Mia?”

Donna's face lit up and Jody's heart soared. “Perfect!” Donna leaned against the counter. “Why can't men be more like you? You've never once said anything mean to me that wasn't trying to protect me. You were a little mean before I knew about the hunting world, but you tried to keep me out of it. Sam and Dean did too.” She spoke fondly of the Winchesters.

Jody called them her boys. “They grew up like this. They try to protect everyone they can from the monsters, including me. They tried to keep me out of this world, but it forced its way into my life.”

“If you want, you can tell me about that really sad look on your face after dinner. But your good cooking shouldn't go to waste,” Donna said sweetly. The blonde grabbed some of the food to put on the table unaware of the longing stares Jody cast her way.

After dinner, the two women sat on the couch with Netflix queued up and ready to go. Jody cleared her throat halfway through the movie. Donna paused it. “You okay, Jody?” she asked softly.

“I should be asking you that. You just went through a breakup.” Jody knew it wasn't right that she was more emotional than Donna.

“Doug was great, and yeah, it hurts.” Donna met Jody's gaze. “But it wasn't so bad. I think we weren't meant to be together. I tried to protect him from the supernatural, and it bit me in the ass. But I'm okay.”

“Did you love him?” Jody found herself asking before really thinking about it. “I mean, if you want to talk about it.”

Donna smiled and ate some of the ice cream. “No. It was coming to an end anyway. My luck with Dougs is not good.”

“To be fair, the first Doug was a total douche.” This made both women laugh. “The second one is just missing out on an amazing woman.”

Donna’s gaze focused on the pint of ice cream in her hands. “Yeah, sure,” she murmured. “Jody, thank you for putting up with me.”

Jody gave her a confused look. “Donna, you know me and the girls and my boys consider you to be family.”

“And you?” Donna asked. “You don't open up to anyone, Jody.”

Josh opened her mouth to argue. “No, I don't, not really.” She tore her gaze away and told Donna about her husband and son and how she lost them. She told her friend about Bobby and losing him, then Asa and going on a date with the then demon king Crowley who tried to kill her. “Hunting is why my family is small and all part of this world.”

Donna wiped a tear away. “Why do you keep this to yourself? You've known me for years now.”

“I'm like Dean. I'm not good at talking about the things that really matter.” Jody smiled sadly.

“Is there anything else?” Donna kept her gaze on the Sioux Falls sheriff.

Jody nodded and her throat closed up. She swallowed hard. “Yeah, but now isn't a good time to tell you,” she tried to back out of it.

“You face monsters and death every day, Jodes.” Donna wasn't letting her get away with it. “Spill it.”

Jody bit her lip. “Okay, fine.” She took a steadying breath. “I have feelings for you.”

Donna put the ice cream aside on the end table. Jody’s heart beat fast as she waited for a response. A moment later she stood up, unable to keep her cool. “I'm going to bed.”

Donna grabbed her arm before she could go anywhere. They were both standing with little space between them. “Jody,” she whispered. “Things were coming to an end with Doug before he found out about this world. Do you remember when we went on that trip to Montana to clear out the vamp nest? You got hurt.”

Jody nodded. She had imagined a few moments between the two and convinced herself it was due to blood loss. She hoped Donna would let her down easy.

“I was worried for you, more than normal.” Donna touched Jody's face. “I had to come to terms with how I felt first before I could even think about admitting to you how I feel.” She leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Jody's lips.

Jody pressed back and tears slid down her face. “I thought you were going to reject me,” she whispered. They kissed again. “Want to finish the movie?”

They finished the movie while cuddled together and sharing the slightly melted ice cream.

Chapter Text

The deal was supposed to be like any other, negotiate terms, seal with a kiss, hold on to the soul. For Crowley, this was a normal Thursday that was until Robert Steven Singer came into the picture.

The terms were laid out, and the deal was set. Right as they kissed, Crowley took out his phone and snapped a picture of them. It was a moment he didn’t want to forget. Taking hold of Bobby’s soul, he didn’t chuck it into the bulk bin with the rest of them. Instead, he carefully and meticulously set it in an empty bourbon bottle and put it on his desk.

That soul was the envy of the others for the special treatment it got. Every day, Crowley would take time out of his busy schedule to stop and talk to it. Every chance he got, he would let it out for a little so it wouldn’t feel cramped. The demon actually would smile when sometimes it would seem to just rest on his shoulder like a parrot. Every once in a while, it would tickle at his beard like to say thank you for treating me well.

It was a quiet night. Crowley let the others go to do the crossroads deals. He just wanted to spend his time with the glowing soul in his possession. “I can understand why the moose and squirrel like you so much,” he leaned against the wood and poke at the bottle. Holding his finger still, he slid it around the glass and Bobby’s soul followed it.

“You want out again?” He sat up straight and opened the bottle. The soul poured out like someone had tipped him over. Instead of buzzing around as he would normally do, he just flattened out on the desk. Crowley looked at the splooting soul and a not so familiar emotion came to him, regret.

“You miss them don’t you?” The soul wiggled slightly. “I can’t just go back on my contract. That would make me look weak against the others. You must understand that.”

Bobby’s soul flattened out even more, almost encompassing the whole top of the desk. “Don’t do that to me. Do act like that.” The demon leaned back in the chair and poked at the glowing mass. The internal struggle he was having was also a brand new feeling to him. “I only do this because I have grown to care for the likes of you.” He knocked the bottle over and it shattered. “Oops,” he looked away as innocently as he could fake. Bobby’s soul gathered together again and started to buzz happily.

He zoomed off and ended up finding his host quickly. Once back inside Bobby, it settled into the warmth that was the hunter. What Bobby didn’t know was, when Crowley let his soul go, he gave him the ability to walk again.

That night when Bobby was trying to sleep, he felt odd, like something was missing and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Silently and secretly, Crowley came into his room and just watched for a bit before going over and giving him a chaste kiss. “Take care of that soul, Bobby Singer. It’s a special one,” he said to the snoring man before leaving again.

Chapter Text

Lucifer had been watching Gabriel potter around the house, cleaning and dancing along, the younger celestial knowing exactly what he was doing to his damaged brother. Wings aching slightly and his arm twinging, the devil managed to hold out another half hour before he broke, surging out of his chair to stomp towards the smaller angel.
Spinning Gabe with a hand on his shoulder, he crowded into the messenger, teeth-baring in frustration. “I see you haven’t changed a bit. Still, the ever so frustrating little shit that I can’t help but love... still.”
Injuries or not, he hefted the youngest archangel up by his thighs and slammed his back into the wall, one hand supporting the smaller body while the other helped him stay upright. “Good. Means you’re still that same firecracker.”

Gabriel smirked and reached around, digging his thumbs into one flight muscle after another. “Yeah, and what’s it to ya, starshine?”

Lu hissed and grinned savagely. “Just makes it all the more fun.” Leaning in, he kissed Gabe hard, his fingertips digging into the fleshy backside before pulling back.
Spotting a table in the nearby library, he pulled the messenger over and kissed him hard once more before turning Gabe’s back to him, leaning in to bite and suck at his soft neck, blinding white feathers restraining golden bronze. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

Gabriel writhed enough to put up a decent fight, unable to detangle from the stronger wings, “Dammit, you’re so much bigger than me!”

“And yet, you’ve always hated it when I /let/ you overpower me.” Lucifer chuckled softly, nibbling along those freckled shoulders before coming to tease the nearest hidden oil glands.

Gabriel huffed and stared at the tabletop, gathering his strength before wriggling hard. “Because I’m tired of being the littlest!” He whined at the sensitive touch, dick standing at attention as he tried to rut against the wooden surface.

“It won’t be long and you’ll have hit your last spurt of growth. I’ve always told you when you did, you’d be able to give me a run for my money, no problem.” Truth was, he already did. The youngest had grown a great deal since before the Cage. Nibbling at the gland, a cold hand slipped down to grip Gabe’s erection, stroking him slowly as he bent him over onto the waiting flat surface, chewing a bruise into a wing joint.

Gabe’s vessel’s breathing stuttered, grip on the now creaking wood shaking slightly as his hips bucked. “Lu, do /something/ or I’ll go find someone who can.”

Smirking, Luci ensured he was slicked up before driving home, biting down on Gabe’s shoulder at the same time, taking on a harsh quick pace.

Gabe squealed and angled his hips up, toes barely on the floor as he was shoved forward, panting slightly. “That all you got, Morningstar?”

“Oh Little Trickster, you know better.” The devil’s grace sparked to life, acting as an extra set of hands to stroke Gabe’s hardened cock, giving him use of both of his natural hands as white pinned gold to the table. Laying a sharp smack to Gabe’s ass, Lu grabbed a handful, angling his own hips to piston right into Gabe’s prostate, slamming him downward to meet every upward thrust.

The sounds that poured out of the youngest archangel were anything but holy, moans and yells intertwining as he got his brains and energy completely removed by his elder brother. Wings stretching out as far as they were allowed, his legs lifted to lock around Lucifer’s hips as stars appeared in his vision. “Dammit, more!”

Lu growled deep in his chest as he pulled out of Gabe abruptly and flipped him to his back, pinning him once more. Leaning down, he took Gabe’s cock into his mouth, sucking firmly like a lollipop, but it was while he was stroking it again that he slammed back inside, picking up a supernaturally impossible pace.
Driving directly into that bundle of nerves, he adjusted the clinging legs and buried his fingers into that mop of wavy golden brown hair. Grace never stopping its’ ministrations, Lu placed his teeth marks in the junction of Gabe’s neck and shoulder, chewing it in deep before he surfaced long enough to growl. “Mine!”

Incoherent noises flowed from the Messenger’s lips, hands shakily reaching up to lock onto those thick flight bones for any kind of stability as he felt even his grace soaring towards orgasm. After one thrust too many for his vessel’s tolerance, he screamed loud enough that it echoed through the halls of Hell as he exploded, both in sticky fluids and grace light, every feather illuminated brightly.

“That’s right, scream for me, Gabriel.” The growl turned into a moan as Lu’s own cock throbbed, meeting his release moments later, pumping through it all to leave the smaller angel full to the brim. His grace flared outward, igniting torches on the walls all the way to the throne room. Panting, he pressed tender kisses to Gabe’s neck and face as he held him close, both for stability and for the comfort of closeness.

Gabe shook hard as the repercussions hit, unable to move other than breathing and patting the blond head laying on him. “Damn, it’s been a while.”

A chilled puff of laughter was his only reply, prompting a little grin to lift the trickster’s lips as he relaxed.

Chapter Text

The oldest archangel settled into the office attached to his personal quarters, smirking at the obscenities being muttered at him from the other room as he pulled a report closer.
“Lu, you agreed to this, quit whining at me.”
Michael just laughed at the fresh wave of anatomically impossible demands his lover verbally flung at him, leaning over to grab a little notebook from a hidden compartment in his desk.

‘Day One. Lucifer and I were both demanded by the Rit Zien and Raphael that we take a retreat from our duties, the reason cited that we have both been overworked. Lu is anticipating being utterly bored, but he has no idea of what I have in store. He’s not the only one who’s taught Gabriel anything. We’ll see if he can get out of the warded arm cuffs and the cage I’ve wrapped around his erection. I’m recording this week for future reminiscing and plenty of blackmail.’
Finishing neatly, he snapped up a light and resumed the work he’d smuggled out when their Healer shoved them both out of the war rooms with an emphatic “Go!”

‘Day Two. This time I added a small cuff underneath the cage and a collar around his neck. He continues to list the various ways he wants to exact his revenge on me, yet is still contained. I need to produce padding as he keeps insisting on yanking and biting at the metal. I don’t want him to damage his teeth when he could be using them on other things.”
Michael set the quill down and closed the door, intent on distracting Lucifer from his plight.

Sitting in just a pair of sweat-dripping pants, the prince of heaven was panting slightly as he scrawled the day’s efforts down quickly in an effort to not stiffen up..
‘Day Three. Decided to practice my weaponscraft in front of Lu, knowing it usually inspires him to bend me over the nearest surface when he has free limbs. His mouth is getting increasingly filthy as he gets more flushed. I’m slightly concerned he will blow a vein, but I’m determined to test his limits.’

The next day, Michael had slid out of clothes entirely, stretching out the kinks in his vessel before grooming his wings, the light gleaming off his oiled skin and feathers as he twisted into obscene contortions.
Ignoring the whines and lewd suggestions, he eventually moved to kneel in front of the younger archangel, reaching out to stroke his own wing oil through those gleaming feathers.
“Three more days, Lucifer, you can last that long, can’t you?”
The being in question actually growled, trying to shift enough he could get some relief.
“You’re such a dick, Mikey, the humans would be appalled.”
Michael smirked and drug his fingernails up those abdominal muscles, backing off as they clenched.
“72 hours, then you can cum as many times as you want.”

The next day went along the same torturous lines, this time Heaven’s general licking along every single feather on Lucifer’s wings, restarting every time the younger angel so much as twitched.
The Morningstar could barely breathe, even pulled to the point of frustrated tears as the sensations refused to abate, making his vessel pant heavily.
Michael ended up kneeling in front of his brother, kissing him slowly to bring him back down… for a few minutes anyway.

On the 5th day though, the archangelic section of Heaven rattled hard, a true form’s screech audible before the younger two created a sound barrier around the forming chaos.
When it was safe to approach a week later, the skittish Rit Zien was confronted with the sight of an absolutely obliterated room, every stick of furniture demolished with actual handprints embedded in the wall.
A little notebook was discovered, a partial entry trailing off as if the writer was dragged away violently, ink splattered over the page.
‘It seems we’ve reached the end of Lucifer’s temper, I wonder how long it will take him to overcome the wards and come after m-----’
Jumping in fright as a pained yet satisfied groan sounded from the wreckage of the bed, the younger angel sprinted out of Michael’s quarters, watched by the heavy-lidded eyes of the smirking perpetrators.
“Best idea ever, don’t you think?”
Lucifer just grunted and rolled over on top of his scratched up lover, digging his fingers into a sensitive spot. “Just wait until Raphael makes us rest again. I won’t give you satisfaction for an entire month.”

Chapter Text

Sam Winchester was pretty content with his life, going on hunts with his Dean and his husband Castiel, researching until all hours of the night before crawling in bed next to his own spouse, the archangel Lucifer.

Yes, that Lucifer.

Their love life wasn’t boring in the slightest, the human being left a wobbly mess and rough voiced the next morning from the sheer pleasure his angel managed to extract from his body every time. But this time, he was determined to give Lu the same kind of mind blowing relaxation.

When Lucifer returned from Heaven that night, he stopped in the doorway, eyes widening at the barely dressed hunter draped across their bed, nose buried in a book yet still a quiet “welcome home” emerged before the obscuring tome was lowered.

Large pupils encased in Icy blue locked on sunflower eyes, the celestial being moving forward as if entranced. He didn’t know what made tonight any different, but there was just some kind of magnetism pulling him closer to Sam. “Have you been practicing spellwork today? You smell… extremely good.”

A large hand reached out to hook onto Luci’s waistband, yanking him between Sam’s legs as he sat up, the free palm warmly cupping the devil’s neck to lead him into a scorching kiss. “No, I just worked out and did laundry. I missed you.”

‘Sam’s lips should be illegal’ was the last coherent thought running through the Morningstar’s mind as he was undressed by his eager hunter, only able to focus when grace binding cuffs attached to the headboard were slapped onto his wrists, his body rolled over so his face pressed into the pillow. “Wait, what?”

Long legs bent in his line of sight, only a pair of boxers obliterating the perfection that was the younger Winchester. “I had a new idea while I was bored, if you’re up to play?” His eyes flared red briefly, but he nodded, trusting Sam to not kill him in while he was vulnerable. “Always am, Sammy.”

His vision went dark as he was blindfolded, the fabric soft on his skin and the loss of a sense making the tension ramp up fast.

The room went dead silent, making him use his vessel to try and locate his husband. That search was quickly called off as the large hands that made Lucifer shiver came smacking down onto both butt cheeks with twin resounding cracks, making him jump.

Lack of sound descended again, making him tense for a while before assuming Sam had left him to relax, only for the same actions to be repeated.

The process repeated several times until the archangel was thrumming with paranoia and an erection so stiff he could cut glass if he tried, finally giving in to let one word whine from his teeth as those long fingers gingerly massaged his red skin. “Sam!”

His only response was a chuckle before his legs were moved apart, Sam settling in between them to lightly stroke between the muscles, teasing his mate mercilessly. “That’s my name, lover, just relax.”

Pouting, Lucifer wiggled around to try and get out of the cuffs, only to get his legs pinned by Sam’s when the hunter walked back over, liberally dolloping lube down his crack before getting to work.

Working the cool body open, the mortal half of the relationship could barely stand it, sinking smoothly into his whimpering husband with a groan as he ran out of room to move.

The angel was grinding his hips into the bedding by now, impatiently trying to come, get the all encompassing nerves to finally explode and give him relief, but his human wouldn’t allow it, wrapping an arm under his body to hold him off the bed, starting a steady pace in and out that made the almighty Lightbringer keen.

The next few minutes were nothing but yelped threats and the sound of flesh slapping as the thrusts got faster, Lucifer’s vessel lowered to the bed again so Sam could lay flush against him.

Scarlet irises lit up full blast when the Devil came, shuddering and shaking as he painted the bed white, Sam following shortly and collapsing half off his husband.

Lu didn’t even bother to move off his mess when he was released from the bindings, only turning his head to look at Sam. “Definitely doing that to you next time.”

Chapter Text

They had been on a hunt, typical run of the mill hunt. It had been something to keep their minds off of why Michael had gone silent. It was supposed to have been easy, a milk run. That never happens for the Winchesters and Castiel.


Dean had been hit. A witch cast a spell, and now he was down. This spell, this hex, this...this curse was forcing the older Winchester to relive his worst memories. One would think this meant the things he saw while Michael used his meat suit or the time he'd been a demon galavanting around and killing with Crowley. But this was not the case. No, these memories were the bricks to the wall that hid away his darkest memories.


This mental wall protected Dean. He never had to think about the worst of the worst if he stacked newer, more recent bad things on top of it and pushed it all down. He never had to feel how much he hated himself for these things if he could hate himself for something not quite as bad.


Dean was on the rack. He felt the blood oozing slowly from the wounds on his face. A large leather cat of nine tails embedded with sharp shards of glass and metal nails whipped across his chest. He cried out in agony. He knew he couldn't die, not here. No one ever died here. They couldn't. They were already dead.


“Dean, I'm going to make you an offer. You know what this offer is. You say yes and your punishment ends. You say no and we repeat this until I make the offer again.” The demon Alastair stood in his line of sight. He flipped the rack over so Dean was now upside down. Hell had a strange thing about gravity working the same as it did on Earth. The pull of gravity on his chest made his wounds hurt more. Jostling the pain was just as bad or worse than inflicting more wounds. “Will you trade being here at my disposal or will you pick up my tools, step down from here, and torture another hellbound soul?”


Dean pulled his face away from the demon's infernal grip. “No.”


Dean closed his eyes, but he knew which tool the demon had picked up. A sharp jagged blade snagged and mutilated its way across his abdomen. He screamed in pain. Alastair smiled and slipped a large meat hook into the flesh of his shoulder.


“This should hold you better.” He untied Dean from the rack, letting his weight hang on one meat hook. He put another on through the other shoulder.


Dean could take the lashings. He could take the nasty words. He could handle being carved up like a Christmas ham. He could handle parts of him being shoved into boiling oil. It was never his head because Alastair’s favorite sound was Dean's screams. Dean could handle any torture that came his way. But that day, Alastair began to put them all together.


Dean's feet were stuck into boiling oil. A hot tar and sulfur smell berated his nose. The demon stretched the rack so it pulled his joints. He took a jagged-edged knife and carved into his torso and legs. He placed a bramble crown on his head and the spikes of it drove into his head.


“My offer still stands, Dean,” the demon stated. He shoved a corkscrew into his side, twisting it so the intestines would pull when he yanked it out seconds later.


Dean heaved trying to breathe after he screamed in the most agony he'd felt since he came to Hell. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Take me down.”


Alastair grinned so all of his filthy teeth were visible. “You'll torture other souls?”


“Yes,” Dean replied.


His wounds were healed as he was removed from the rack. Dean picked up the lash and struck into his first victim, drawing blood. Things he had no way of knowing were set into motion.


He enjoyed his time spectacularly with each new victim and each new weapon with which to torture. He attacked each victim with eagerness. He never offered the deal the demon had given to him. No, this was not his place. His victims were rotated out regularly. Alastair and another demon named Meg who he'd met as while alive gave him advice on how to torture and new methods to use. Dean enjoyed Hell now.


The nightmare of forced memories continued until a hand touched his shoulder and he was met with bright blue eyes in the darkest of places. A voice surrounded him in warmth and comfort speaking the words in a loud but calm voice. “Dean Winchester is saved!”


Dean woke with a start and sat bolt upright in the bed. He was breathing hard and sweating. He realized someone was in the room and turned to see the same bright blue eyes that had rescued him watching over him now. “Cas,” he breathed in relief.