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Dark Intentions

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Meg was sat on the bed when the door flew open, followed belatedly by Castiel walking through it. She reckoned he only did it to be dramatic, how much effort did it take to turn a doorknob? Saying that, she’d give her vessel for a black leather desk chair and a hairless cat.

“I’ve been expecting you, Clarence.” She says with an arched eyebrow and what could pass for a polite smile if one had never met her.

“I imagined you would.” He gently closed the door by hand, a gesture that made him go from being a lion to being a mouse. She doesn’t know which she should find more worrying.

“You might have them fooled but you must have known I wouldn’t believe that little magic trick of yours for a second.” She started to stand but Castiel waved a hand, stopping her. She didn’t know if she sat back down willingly or through force.

“I had thought of that, yes, but if you remember I wasn’t in favour of you coming with us.” He didn’t sit; instead he paced back and forth over the same few yards of carpet.

“And that was why?” She made it a question, not a statement, trying to taunt an insult out of him. By asking for them she took all of the power out of them, all the moral superiority was redundant because she took them like compliments.

“Yes.” He said simply, not even noticing the bait let alone rising to it. “I knew your presence would risk it all.”

“I’m guessing the good ol’ boys don’t know?” She paused while he raised his eyes to glare at her before shaking his head.

“How did you know?” He asked wearily.

“I didn’t but you just confirmed that there was something to know. Besides you look different.” Castiel looked confused so she lifted up her hand so that it was in her line of vision. “Oh yes, Clarence, just like you can see our true forms, I can see yours. You’re positively glowing these days. You’ve either been a very good boy or a very bad one and if this is something you’re trying to hide, my money’s on you being very bad. Am I right?” She didn’t expect a response but she did expect the hand that curled around her throat.

“You have no idea what I’ve had to do.” He tightened his hand until she moved her head in discomfort. He took a shuddering breath and let her go.

“I’m a bright spark, I can figure it out. You pretended to kill Crowley which means you must want him alive. You don’t want to disappoint Sam and Dean so you must have gotten your hands dirty at some point, maybe Crowley has secrets that he can spill, secrets that will put your good name, not to mention your halo, under question. You’re not fucking him, are you?” She looked him up and down, Angels were so uptight and repressed, they all break in funny ways eventually.


“No. Hold on.” Her eyes lit up, he could almost see the penny dropping in her mind. “He’s going after purgatory for you, isn’t he?”

“Not for me. With me.” He sighed.

“Oh Clarence, I didn’t think you had a soul to sell.”

“I don’t.”

“What’s Crowley getting out of this then?” She couldn’t claim to have ever liked the dick but she would willingly admit Crowley was smart.

“Half the souls in purgatory. That’s the price to keep my conscience clean.”

“Not clean enough though.” She muttered, provoking him again. He had her pinned to the bed almost before she’d finished speaking. She pitied the poor bastard, he was an emotional yo-yo. And that was saying something for an Angel.

“Shut up.” He growled. His heart wasn’t really in it.

He released some of the pressure he had on her and she made a split second decision. She preferred seeing fire in his eyes, no matter how dull. She didn’t like feeling bad for him. “Come on, if you can’t tell the humans, you must feel some shame.”

“Why should I? I’m doing this for them. It’s what Dean wants. He doesn’t want paradise or hell on Earth. He wants this. Sam went to Hell for this. It’s what they want.”

“What do you want?” She asks, staring at him until he had to meet her eyes.

“I don’t know anymore.”

“I think you want forgiveness. That’s why you came here, isn’t it? It’s either that or you came to kill me and I’m still breathing. Just about.” She rubbed her throat to be theatrical. “You don’t tell someone your deepest darkest without wanting them to tell you it’s ok, that you’re doing the right thing. Isn’t that what you want?”

He held her eyes and the intensity of his stare made her want to flee from her vessel. She felt her eyes turn black under the weight of it. But she refused to drop her gaze and eventually he looked away, nodding like it pained him to admit to wanting anything from a demon. She blinked and her eyes went back to normal.

“Well it’s your lucky day, sweetheart, because I know exactly how humans deal with guilt and all those other pesky emotions.” She raised her hand to his head, stroking his hair, testing the water.

“What are you doing?” He hesitated but he didn’t move away from her.

“I’m offering my body for you to use as a coping mechanism.” She rolled her eyes when he looked at her blankly. “I’m seducing you.”

“How will that help me?”

She was almost offended but deep down she knew he honestly didn’t know how fucking her could possibly help him.

“You poor little lamb.” She reached down between them and palmed his cock through his pants. He reeled back and she couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. “Just go with it. You’ll thank me later.”

She pulled him back down by his tie and twisted it around her hand. He couldn’t move more than a few inches away from her now. Well, he could, if he really wanted to but she doubted he would.

She forced her lips on his and just like earlier, he was unsure for a second and then he kissed her back with fervour. Unlike earlier there were no hell hounds to kill, there was no mission to distract them and after a minute or so of kissing her, he seemed unsure again.

“Let your meatsuit guide you. It knows what it wants.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.

It was easy to forget he’d never been human; he’d never had to muddle his way through teenage fumbles or awkward wedding nights to learn the basics. He’d never had urges he couldn’t control or desires that needed to be sated. He’d never been broken in.

When she was first made a demon she couldn’t bear to be touched, not after what had been done to her in Hell. But eventually the body won out and she gave in. She hadn’t denied herself anything since. Each kill was another bit of her soul surrendering and every fuck blotted out a piece of The Pit. That’s what Cas needed. He needed to take the weight of the world off of his shoulders and forget for a while.

Something primitive must have kicked in while she was over thinking what they were doing. His hands had pushed her top up and he was looking at her expectantly. She needed to let go of his tie in order for the top to come off. She untwisted the material and observed the white pressure marks left on her skin with something akin to pride. She pulled it open until it left his neck entirely. She wondered if she asked real nicely, maybe he’d let her keep it.

Her top was pulled over her head and dropped somewhere. There were a handful of seconds where he didn’t move, he just stared. He took in the black satin of her bra and the long tresses of dark hair that flowed over her shoulders and the contrast it created against her pale skin. She looked like light and darkness divided. She embodied the two of them, in that moment. He wondered if eventually he’d start turning shades of grey.

She used his hesitance to her advantage, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it slightly off his shoulders, it was too much effort to get it off entirely. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, nodding down to them, dragging Castiel’s attention back to her. She lifted her hips so they would come off quicker, cursing the tight denim. Her underwear followed them down and he looked at her again for guidance.

She took his hand and put it between her legs, rubbing against it until he got the idea. She led back and let him experiment with the newfound territory. He wasn’t skilled enough to make her come from his fingers alone but it warmed her up. She gasped in surprise when she felt two fingers pushed inside her. She was wet enough that they went in easily; she just hadn’t expected them without prompting him.

She propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, one hand on her thigh, keeping her legs spread and the other pressed between them. From the look of concentration on his face, she knew she was doing the right thing. The world could have ended and he’d still be staring down at his buried fingers, wondering why curling them just so made Meg fall back onto the bed, curses and blasphemes falling from her lips. He did it again and again, watching with fascination as cause and effect played out with only milliseconds between them.

After a while she sat up, wishing he still had his tie on because it made a handy lead. She settled for grabbing a handful of his loose shirt and pulling him back up onto the bed, onto her. She reached down between them and this time when she stroked over his cock, he didn’t jump back, he pushed into her hand. She was eternally grateful to find him already hard for her.

She unzipped his pants and took his cock in her hand, positioning it for him. She dug her heels into the mattress, spreading her legs and lifting her hips to encourage him. He pushed into her agonizingly slowly. She curled her toes and grabbed fistfuls of the sheet, pushing up and against him with everything she had until their bodies were flush against each other.

She gathered he’d taken her advice and was letting his vessel steer him because he nearly pulled out entirely before thrusting back in, harder. It was almost like he knew what he was doing. She reached between her chest and his, her hand brushing over her breast and down over her abdomen until she reached her clit. She began circling her fingers over it, not sure if he’d have the stamina of an Angel or a virgin.

When Castiel noticed what she was doing, he took her hand away and brought it up to his mouth, tasting her on her fingers. When he’d satisfied that curiosity, he pinned her arm above her head.

“You learn quickly, don’tcha?” She said, making a show of wriggling in his grasp so that he would tighten it.

He thrust harder and harder until she felt a ripple of the power that he was holding back. She wondered how badly her vessel would be broken if he lost that control. She wondered how amazing it’d be if he did. When his shouldered flexed, she imagined him flying and as the nails on her free hand scratched red lines down his back, under his shirt, she imagined she was carving out his wings.

When she came, it felt like something white hot had burned through her entire body, cleansing every cell until she felt almost normal, almost human. The light bulb above the bed smashed, showering them in sparks and tiny bits of glass. In the darkness, she felt him come inside her, still basking in her own afterglow.

When he’d finished she gave him a shove, making him roll over onto the bed next to her. She didn’t want him to get any silly ideas about post-climax cuddling.

“Do you feel better now, Clarence?” She said into the pitch blackness. Given time, she’d be able to see in here like it was bathed in brilliant sunshine but she’d spent all the energy she could spare. She wondered if he felt the same.

“Don’t talk. Please.” He replied and she smiled that even now, he couldn’t let go of his formalness.

She got up, while her body was still willing to, and retrieved her underwear. She slipped them back on and led back down on the bed.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” She said.

“I know.”

There was no flutter of wings so she presumed he hadn’t left.


After that night she didn’t see him for weeks, just like the Winchesters. She honestly didn’t expect to see him again. She was surprised she was even giving it any thought.

Then, in the middle of what couldn’t exactly be called a ‘meeting’ he was suddenly there. The two demons she had with her stood instantly, thinking it was an attack. She stayed where she was. The woman, the feistier of the two, tried to tackle him. She didn’t get within three feet before she was flung not so delicately into a wall. The man, thinking he was coming to her rescue, glowed and burnt to a cinder inside his meatsuit as soon as he was within touching distance. As much as it would pain her to admit it out loud, especially to him, watching him kill people, even her demons, was a turn on. The woman tried to flee her vessel and Castiel covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her trapped. She convulsed and glowed, just like they all did.

“On day, we’re going to have to try that.” She said, slightly breathless. “I mean the vessel thing not the smitey thing.”

He looked over to her and she noticed the blood on his shirt. It looked like his own. “What happened?” She asked more out of curiosity than concern. If he was still standing, he would keep on standing.

“Rachel.” He answered with an angry edge to his voice.

“Should I be jealous?” She joked, trying to lighten his exceedingly heavy mood.

“She’s dead. She betrayed me. She tried to kill me.” He said each of these facts like they were unrelated.

“She deserved it then.”

“What if she was right?”

“So what if she was? What matters is you won.”

“Am I doing the right thing?” He asked and Meg paused for a second, not knowing what he wanted to hear.

“You’re doing what you have to.” She stood and started walking over to him. She had barely taken a few steps before her back hit the wall. He hadn’t even moved. Her breath surged through her and she could feel herself getting wet. She felt him pressing against her from the other side of the room. This was a talent they shared but she’d never had it done to her before.

Within the blink of an eye he was close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin before his lips were on hers, crushingly hard. He released her from his metaphysical grip, letting her fall into his real one. When the kiss broke, he spun her round, lifting her arms so that they were pressed against the thin plasterboard. His hands then went down to her jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down to her knees, taking her underwear with them.

His fingers found her clit and rubbed hard and fast. Her knees almost gave out from surprise. She was so staggered she called him by his name. “Jesus, Cas, where’d you learn this?”

“I watched the humans.” He said, his mouth right by her ear. She couldn’t hold back a moan caused by the mental picture.

“Well, that’s...” She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pressure building inside her so that she could speak. “Good for you.”

“Actually, I’d say it’s better for you.”

“Oh God.” She couldn’t tell if he was just stating the truth in his own odd way or if that was his attempt at dirty talking her. She didn’t really care which it was, either worked.

He wrapped his free arm around her waist, dragging her away from the wall and into his body. She could feel his cock through his pants, pressing hard against her bare ass and she could feel dampness on them too. She pushed back further and rubbed against him until his fingers became as frantic as she was, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

The bulbs smashed again but she didn’t care because it was daylight. She felt a mild wetness on her skin from where he’d come, still fully clothed. She covered his hand with her own, helping him for those final few seconds until she came, her knees giving out, leaving her a pile on the floor at his feet. She wondered if this counted as praying, in its own obscene way. After a while, he sat down next to her.

“I hope they have discreet drycleaners in Heaven.” Meg said with a smile.

“They have yet to capitalise on that. Besides...” He waved a hand and his pants were clean again, as was his shirt.

“Or that works.” She looked him up and down. He looked tired. And not just fucked-out tired. “How long’s it been? Since Rachel...” She trailed off.

“Days. I came as soon as I was able.” He looked at her for a second before looking away.

“That’s...good to know.” She wasn’t sure what to think about that.


“They know.”

Meg jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t been sleeping exactly, she didn’t need to, but she’d been lying down with her eyes closed, letting her mind wonder. It was close enough to sleeping that she didn’t hear him approach and she was startled by his sudden presence. Not that she was thinking about him. Not that she as guilty.

“Jesus, Cas, can’t you knock?” She said opening her eyes. He was sat on the bed with his back to her. She stood and walked round the bed so that she could see his face, sitting down in a chair across from him.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He said, not meeting her eye.

“Blaspheme?” She asked incredulously.

“Call me Cas. That’s what they call me.”

“So, what do you want me to call you? Castiel?”

“No. Go back to your film reference.”


He nodded. “It seems appropriate. I no longer wish to be myself.”

“Alright.” Meg said, she knew what that was like, after all her name had never really been Meg. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Do you want to provide me with those few seconds of respite from everything that only sexual gratification seems to provide?” He looked her in the eyes for the first time and she noticed how much he’d changed recently. Maybe that was her fault.

“What do you want?”

“Anything. I don’t care.” He fell back onto the bed, completely passive.

Meg got up from her chair and dropped to her knees. She unzipped his pants and freed his cock, stroking it until he was hard. He propped himself up on his elbows, curious about what she was doing.

“Talk.” She instructed before lowering her mouth onto his cock.

There was a minute or two silence, which was to be expected, then he told his story all over again.

“Raphael wants to free Michael and Lucifer from the cage.”

Meg lifted her head, her attention caught.

“Don’t even think about it. If you were to go back to him, I’d have no choice but to destroy you.” Then after a pause and his voice took on a possessive tone. “You’re not his anymore.”

Meg nodded and went back to his cock. Usually she wouldn’t submit like that but the fact he was being possessive like that wasn’t a good sign. The last Angel that declared ownership over her, and every demon, went as dark as an Angel could go. The idea of Castiel becoming like him was one that scared her and thrilled her at the same time. He was already closer to him than any other Angel she’d heard of. He even had his own demon whore in her. She wondered if one day, she might end up the next Lilith.

“Raphael wants the Apocalypse to happen. I have to stop him. I defied him with nothing more than self-confidence and righteous fury on my side. Needless to say, I lost. Then Crowley came to me. He offered me a way to stop him. I took it.”

She made a sound of agreement and he paused again while the vibration of her voice hummed through him.

“I’m using him to find purgatory for me then I’m going to take all the souls, cut him out.”

Meg couldn’t help but laugh, she wished she’d be there to see Crowley’s face when that happened. Castiel sat up, one of his hands moving to hold her head steady. “Nobody must know. They’ll try to stop me.” Meg nodded and he lessened his grip, hand still resting on her head but now it was stroking her hair.

“I’ll be powerful enough to kill Raphael and I’ll save the world.”

Meg lifted her head again. “Why aren’t they throwing you a thank you party then?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel said honestly, he really couldn’t understand why they couldn’t see what he was trying to do. “I’m only doing it for them. I know certain aspects aren’t exactly ethical but if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t need to do these things. Do you think I care what happens to this world? The only thing I care about is...” He trailed off and Meg looked away, giving him a minute to calm down.

“Shhh, it’s ok.” She said finally, reaching up to kiss him. She didn’t know if he wanted her comfort but he didn’t move away, he kissed her back.

She settled back down on her knees and pushed him back gently, so they he was led back on the bed again. “Don’t think about it anymore.” She whispered.

She circled her tongue over the head of his cock, easing him back into it. She kept working until he came with her swallowing around him. She wiped her mouth and stood, climbing onto the bed beside him.

“Thank you.” He said looking sideways at her.

“You’re welcome?” She replied, never sure how to deal with these quiet moments they had.

“Would you like me to reciprocate?” He asked.

“It’s alright; I think your cause is greater than mine.” She said. This was a new experience for her; she’d never turned down sex before, especially not in favour of just sitting. “If it means anything to you, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Do you mean that?” He looked at her again and she could tell he was trying to look past the demon form he saw, trying to seek out the woman.

“Yes.” She leant in and kissed him, not really sure what she was doing anymore.

“If it means anything to you, that means a lot to me.” He said and to her surprise he took her hand.

“You know, Hell is probably freezing over and Heaven is probably falling because we’re doing this.”

“Heaven will fall anyway, sooner or later.”

“Nah, you’ll save the day, Clarence.”

They led like that for a while, hands joined, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about anything.


The next time she heard anything about him, it was that he died. She made her peace with that. She knew he’d killed Raphael and averted the apocalypse. He gone down the winner.

Then to ruin her closure, he resurfaced. It wasn’t him, not properly, not yet. But she planned to change that. She knew every demon would be out to get him while he was vulnerable so she’d get him first.

When he was whole again, she barely got a chance to meet his eyes let alone talk to him. Within the hour he was broken again. She could kill Dean and Sam for breaking him again.

She volunteered to do what she’d always done. She’d look after him.