#cas x reader

“Not on our watch,” Sam says, shutting the hatch. 

They rush off toward the large brick building in the middle of nowhere, hoping to find you still kicking. 

Inside, they find a body at the entrance. Dean has to shove the door open to push it aside. Both brothers note the stab wound to the chest, nod at each other, and draw their guns. As they check the building, cautiously clearing each corner together, Dean taking the lead and Sam protecting his brother's back, they find body after body, but no sign of you. Once they’ve cleared the building, Dean drops his arms at his sides irritatedly. 

“Well? Where would she be?” Dean asks. “She should’ve just stayed put, as I said. Then we wouldn’t be runnin’ around trying to play catch up. Who knows where the kid is now.” 

“Dean,” Sam says, watching him start to pace, “she’s an adult. And a trained one, at that. She can make her own choices.” 

“Yeah, well, not if they’re stupid. Come on.” Dean waves Sam forward as he heads back downstairs. “Maybe she’s in the back.” 

They make their way outside into the courtyard. It’s filled with old junk and scrap metal; nothing's been touched here for probably twenty years. Old street lights are standing at an angle or completely snapped off at the base, lying flat on the overgrown concrete below. You’re standing near the center of the large concrete pad between buildings, pulling the demon-blade out of a demon as it sizzles and falls to the ground. You catch movement from the corner of your eye and turn to see your two older brothers making their way to you with scowls on their faces you electively choose to ignore. 

“Hey, guys,” you say cheerfully. “The buildings clear.” 

“Yeah, we noticed,” Dean says. 

“And I’ve got the kid, too,” you say, nodding behind you.

A young blonde-haired boy walks out from behind a rusty car with weeds growing out of the windshield. 

“I just want to see my mom,” the boy cries. 

“Oh, hey,” Sam says gently, walking up to the kid and kneeling at his height. “We’ll get you to your mom, isn’t that right?” He looks up at you. 

“Absolutely,” you say, giving the young boy a smile. 

“What did they want with the kid?” Dean asks. 

Guiltily, you shuffle your feet and avert your eyes. 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asks, his frustration flaring. “What, you just thought you’d come in here guns a blazin’ and be the hero but forget to get the most important question answered?” 

“Dean,” Sam says, standing slowly. 

“No,” Dean says, briefly acknowledging Sam before turning back to you. “You put this kid’s life in danger, and you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” 

“Well, I didn’t,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “Besides, we knew this place was filled with Grade D demons–Grade C, at best. You guys were taking forever, and it’s nothing I can’t handle alone. And you literally just did this same move last week! You’re going to lecture me on ‘pulling a Dean’?” 

“She’s got a point there,” Sam notes, trying to hide a smile. He’s always found it amusing when the two of you get into it. Dean has always had this strong sense to protect his two younger siblings, but when it comes to you, he can’t help but turn it up a notch, and that always sets your attitude off. The two Divas is what he’s called you both in the past, and that always gains him a glare and an eyeroll from the two of you. Before he can get the taunt out, his ear perks up. There’s a faint rhythmic ticking sound. He furrows his brows. “Uh, hey guys?” Sam says, looking around the messy courtyard for a sign of the source. “Does anyone hear that noise?” 

The little boy tugs on the sleeve of Sam’s coat, and he kneels down, scooping him up in his arms. “Guys,” Sam tries again to break up you and Dean’s bickering, “I think we should get out of here.” He starts to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on the two of you while trying to make sure the young kid is out of danger. “Guys!” 

“What?!” You and Dean snap, whipping your heads towards Sam at the same time. 

“Let's go,” Sam says, nodding back toward the building. “There’s something off about this place, and I think we should–” 

Before Sam can finish his sentence, an explosion sets off just behind you and Dean. The blast is so strong, it sends the two of you into the air and pushes Sam back with incredible force. He shields the little boy with his body, and once he skids to a stop, his back thudding against the brick building they walked out of, he props himself up to check the kid. “Are you okay?” He asks quickly; the boy nods his head. Sam flicks his attention to the rubble in front of him, searching for you and Dean with frantic eyes. “Dean?! Lexy?!” Sam yells, getting to his feet. He gestures at the kid to stay put as he walks into the rubble. 

Chunks of concrete and sidewalk are crumbled and strewn around the courtyard. Pieces of brick, old bits of rubber tire, and rusty metal shrapnel mix in. Sam’s heart pumps adrenaline through his chest, worry sinking in as he doesn’t see either one of you. He shouts for you both again, stumbling over a pile of rubble. 

“Sammy!” Dean shouts back, groaning in pain. 

Sam turns to the right, following his brother’s voice, and finds him pushing off the ground to his feet. “Are you okay?” Sam asks quickly. 

“I’m fine. Where’s Lex?” Dean asks, shaking his head as he tries to gather himself. 

“I-I don’t know, you both went flying; I didn’t see where she went.” Sam stumbles out. “Lex!” Sam calls out. 

Dean curses under his breath, finally getting to his feet. “What the hell was that?” He asks, stumbling into the courtyard. “Lex!” He shouts for you, desperately searching around the explosion site. 

“Some sort of bomb,” Sam comments. 

“No, really?” Dean asks sarcastically, glancing back at him. 

Sam glances back to check on the young boy, and when he sees he’s fine and hasn’t moved from his spot, he continues searching for you. He and Dean shout your name again, walking around a large rusted-out semi-truck lying on its side. As they round the corner, they finally hear you. 

“I’m here, I-I’m here,” you wrestle out, your voice hardly loud enough to cross the yard. 

Sam freezes, and Dean runs into his back. 

“Geeze, what are you? A mountain?” Dean snaps, fixing his jacket as he walks around his tall brother. 

But all sense of humor saps from his body as his eyes meet the scene in front of him. You’re slumped against a brick wall, and your hands are clasped tightly around a snapped-off steel pole that’s impaled your abdomen. Blood slowly bubbles and seeps out around the object, soaking into your dark clothes. 

“H-Hey, guys,” you say, forcing a smile as the color drains away from your face. 

All at once, the boys lurch into motion, running to your side, eagerly trying to find a solution. 

“Don’t move,” Dean says sternly. 

“Don’t worry, we’re getting you out of this,” Sam says. 

“Is the kid okay?” You ask worriedly. 

“The kid’s fine, he’s fine,” Sam reassures. 

“Cas,” Dean calls out. 

“I-I tried that already,” you stutter out over the pain. 

You had. As you lay in the dirt, feeling the metallic heat of your own blood pooling beneath you, before your brothers found you, your frantic mind hadn't called for safety or a miracle–it had called for him. And in the terrifying clarity that only comes when death is staring you down, the fragile lie that you’ve been telling yourself crumbled to dust. You didn't just have a soft spot for the awkward angel. You didn't just flirt with him to keep things light. You were hopelessly, completely in love with Castiel, though you knew it would never go anywhere. If this was really the end, the cruelest part wasn't dying in a rusty old courtyard–it was dying with that truth still trapped in your throat, and never getting to hear what he might say to the truth. Now, you’re trying not to hyperventilate, but your damaged lungs seem to have a mind of their own. 

“No, no, no,” Sam says in rapid succession. “Just breathe, Lex, it’s gonna be just fine.” 

“Yeah, what Sam said,” Dean says, kneeling at your side. “You’re gettin’ out of this, there’s no two ways about it.” 

“Dean,” you say, tears forcing their way over your cheeks. “Sammy.” You tilt your head, looking at both of your brothers in turn. “I love you, guys.” 

“Stop that,” Dean snaps. “Don’t you say goodbye. You’re fine.” 

Your hand, wet with blood, slips off the pole in your side, and Sam reaches out, taking it in both of his with shaking hands. 

“We’re right here, Lex,” Sam says, his voice tight and hushed. 

“Stop that,” Dean says, looking at Sam briefly before turning his attention back to you. “You’re fine. Cas,” Dean tries again. “Cas, please, please, get here as fast as you can. It’s Lex. And she needs your help.” 

“W-When Cas gets here,” you stutter out, the pain sucking the air out of your lungs. “Can you tell him… tell him that I–” You wince, feeling hot and cold all at once. Sweat drips down your back, but your hands and feet are as cold as ice. Your teeth start to chatter, and you taste a pungent iron flavor in the back of your mouth. 

Sam rubs your cold hand in his, trying to warm your fingers and give you some sort of comfort. He knows what’s happening; he just can’t believe it. 

You take in the presence of both of your brothers. You know your death is going to wreck them, and you can’t help but feel guilty. “I’m sorry,” you cry, unable to stop the crack in your voice. 

Dean immediately softens, moving in closer to you and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says, though his eyes flick from yours to the seeping wound. “I’m not letting you die here.” He leans down and slides his arms under your back and legs, but just that small movement makes you scream in pain. He freezes, rethinking the plan in his head. 

“Dean, stop!” Sam says, squeezing your hand. “She’ll bleed out if you move her!” 

“She’s going to bleed out if we don’t do something!” Dean shouts back. 

Your head rocks forward as your body threatens to shut down, and Dean shifts his hold to cradle you in his arms, letting your head fall on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t happening,” Dean says, more to himself than anyone else. His heart sinks as he gives you a nudge, but no sound leaves your lips. “Don’t shut your eyes! Sammy, are her eyes closed?” 

Sam lifts his hands to his hair, pulling at the strands as he sits back, watching your eyes flutter shut, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell his brother. His stomach twists, once again feeling helpless. 

Castiel rushes around the corner, the back of his coat snapping against his legs as he runs as fast as he can to you. He heard your frantic prayers–he felt the desperation in Dean’s, too–but without his wings, the distance from you felt like an agonizing eternity. He skids to a stop beside Dean, his chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. For millennia, angels had existed as unfeeling soldiers of Heaven, incapable of the soft, terrifying vulnerabilities of mortal existence, but his time living as a human has changed him. It’s carved open a soul inside him, leaving Cas stranded in a strange middle ground; an angel burdened with the terrifying capacity to feel. And right now, looking down at your limp form cradled in Dean’s arms, your blood staining the dirt, pure, unadulterated terror claws at him. If he had a beating heart, it would be racing, thumping loudly against his ears; he’s sure of it. 

“Let her go,” Cas demands, dropping to his knees beside you.

Dean lays you down on the dirt-covered ground and scoots back just enough to give Cas room. “Well, come on!” Dean yells. “Heal her!” 

“It’s not that simple, Dean,” Cas states. He reaches his hand out, touching your forehead; there’s a glow, but your eyes stay shut. “Her injuries are immense. She is barely holding on. We have to remove the object from her abdomen before I can assess the extent of her wounds.” 

“Well, stop talking and just do what needs to be done,” Dean sasses. 

Cas reaches out to grab the post stuck in your body, but Sam stops him. 

“I got it,” he says. Sam grasps the pole with both hands and looks at Cas. “Ready?” 

“Yes, ready,” Cas says with a nod of his head. 

Sam shuts his eyes, and with a firm pull, he dislodges the scrap-made spear, tossing it aside. Blood pours from your side, the pole having gone clean through, and Sam and Dean hold onto the sliver of hope that you’ll be alright. 

“Come on, kid,” Dean whispers, his heart rate through the roof as he watches Cas try to heal you a second time, but to no avail. This can’t be happening, he thinks. 

“Why isn’t it working?” Sam asks, his breath catching in the back of his throat. 

Castiel doesn’t respond. Instead, he lifts both of his hands to the sides of your head, and a light blue glow emits from his hands. A pained groan escapes him, his eyes shutting tight as he tries to piece you back together, atom by atom. He can’t let you die. Not you. 

The brothers watch as the hole in your waist gradually starts closing up, fresh skin covering over the wound. Color returns to your cheeks, and they lean in, holding their breath. 

The glow from Cas’s hands stops, and he lets out a stressed exhale, opening his eyes. When he isn’t met with yours, his face pinches together with worry. “I don’t understand,” Cas says, his voice deep and confused. “That should have worked. I… I…” In a flip, he turns to Dean. “Give me the angel blade.” 

“Why, what do you need it for?” Dean asks, eyeing Cas. 

“Dean, give it to me now, or your sister dies,” Castiel says firmly. 

Without another word, Dean pulls the angel blade out of his coat and hands it over. 

“You may want to consider giving us room,” Cas says, taking the blade. 

Instantly, Sam and Dean rush to their feet, backing away a few steps. 

Cas takes a breath, steeling his nerves. He has suppressed his feelings for months, knowing an angel had no place loving a human. But knowing you has cracked every rule he’s ever set for himself. Cas looks at your beautiful face, and for a moment, he simply presses his left hand to your cheek, faintly feeling your pulse grow weaker as he realizes exactly what he is about to do. He has no idea the repercussions, but he’d do anything to keep you here. 

A line of crimson drips from the side of your mouth, darkening your lips, and it’s all he needs to see to do what he has to. He sets the angel blade down to lift you into his lap. “This has to work,” he whispers. He can’t imagine this world without you, so if there is something he can do to save you, he will take that risk again, and again. Castiel takes the angel blade in his hand and brings the sharp edge to his neck. 

“Whoa, Cas, wait,” Sam stumbles out quickly. 

“Cas!” Dean shouts as he watches his best friend slit his throat. 

Bright white light seeps from the incision, blinding in its intensity as Cas pulls you tight against his chest. He can feel his grace–raw, ancient, and burning–tearing itself from his essence and pouring past your lips, filling your lungs with divine fire. It burns with the excruciating heat of falling into the Sun, threatening to rip him apart, but he grits his teeth and endures the agony. He would give you every last drop of his divinity if it guaranteed your breath. He only hopes you can forgive him for the mark it will leave, tethering a piece of his grace to your soul. 

He lets you back down slowly and drops the blade behind him. Cas lifts his hand to his neck and heals the wound there, feeling an intense exhaustion pull at his limbs. 

“Geeze, Cas,” Dean says, his voice hushed. 

“We’ve never seen you do that before,” Sam says, equally as quiet.

“Yeah, well,” Cas says, his tired eyes still fixated on you, “it’s not really something I’m supposed to do.” 

“Did it work?” Dean asks, taking a step closer. 

“She should wake up,” Cas says. But when he doesn’t see your chest rise, he clenches his jaw. The tiny light of hope in his chest flickers. 

“Why isn’t she moving?” Sam asks, moving in. 

“I don’t know. It should have worked. I gave her my grace–” 

You take an alarming breath in, and as if suddenly being reborn, your eyes open wide. They glow with Castiel’s grace for a moment so brief, your brothers don’t notice… but Cas does, and he feels his chest tighten. 

“Holy–” Dean lets out a relieved breath, spinning around to take a few wide steps before walking back to you and Cas. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” 

Sam smiles wide, wiping the budding tears from his eyes. “Cas, thank you,” he says earnestly. 

“Of course,” Cas says, glancing up at Sam, still holding you firmly in his arms. “I–” His words stop short at feeling your hand on his chest. He turns his attention back to you, his face scrunching in concern. 

You rest in Cas’s arms so comfortably, you’ve forgotten the pain of it all, and you’ve forgotten why you’re lying here in the first place. Something you can’t quite place rushes through your veins. Something warm and electric hums just beneath your skin, and for a fleeting second, as Castiel’s blue eyes lock onto yours, you swear you feel an emotion so strong, it steals the air from your lungs. You gasp again, though this time quieter, near shock as the sensation courses through every cell in your body. Your hand rests firmly on his chest, grasping at the fabric of his white button-up, trying to form words in the midst of the world spinning. You swear his eyes glow for a second, but maybe you’re just hallucinating… 

“Are you still in pain?” Castiel asks, his eyebrows creasing together. “I can give you my grace again if that was not enough.” 

“Your grace?” You ask, confused. “You gave me your grace?” 

“Yes,” he says, “some of it. You were dying.” 

“I…” You can’t find the words. Your mind is surging with a pure energy, and the sensation is almost too much to bear. 

When you don’t immediately respond, Cas lifts his hand to your forehead, pressing his palm there worriedly. He closes his eyes, focusing on your form, but when he confirms you’ve been completely healed and his grace is indeed running through your veins and tangling with the threads of your soul, he feels a wash of nervousness and relief all at the same time. He pulls his hand back and meets your eyes again. “How are you feeling?” 

“I feel… strange…” You say in awe, your eyes locked on his. 

“Strange?” Dean says. 

“Strange how?” Sam adds. 

You hardly hear their voices. They’re drowned out by the loud thrumming in your ears–a remnant of what you assume is Cas’s grace. “Castiel,” you whisper his full name, your eyes wide, taking in the sensation the best you can. 

“It will be alright,” Cas says. “It may be a little overwhelming at first, but my grace cannot hurt you. Can you sit up?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” you say, your eyebrows creasing. Normally, you’d have a witty comment perfectly locked and loaded, ready to shoot, but Cas was right; the sensation is overwhelming. 

“Good,” Cas says. He presses a firm hand to your back and helps you sit up. A moment later, he’s standing on his feet and offering you his hand. 

You take it, and he lifts you. Your veins thrum with his energy, and you swear that even his touch feels different, as if you can sense the grace running through his veins as it now does yours. You open your mouth to say thank you, but your two brothers leap into action, grasping both you and Castiel in their wide embrace. It was brief, but a warm squeeze, and they break away, thanking Cas and half-scolding you for staying true to your name. 

“I’m serious,” Dean says, “next time, I’m shutting you in the trunk.” 

“What?” You ask, confused. 

Sam laughs, grasping your shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. Dean’s just joking.” 

“Am I?” Dean asks. “Cause I really don’t think I am.” 

As they continue their banter back and forth, you can’t help but watch Castiel. You’ve seen him heal your brothers more times than not, but he’s never used his grace before. You realize just how close to death you were, and when his eyes meet yours, the sound of your brothers’ chatter fades. Why is he looking at me like that? Is there something on my face? You touch the side of your face absentmindedly. But before you can ask the angel what’s wrong, he looks away. 

“I-I’ll be in the car,” he stutters out awkwardly. 

Your brothers don’t even notice his retreat; they’re too wrapped up in you to care, but you notice. And you wonder what’s changed between the two of you.

✨A/N: Since y'all seemed to really like the last one of these, I've put another little somethin' somethin' together for my fellow Castiel lovers. I already posted on my TMNT fanfic, so I do not feel guilty posting a different fanfic this time 🤣

Sam and Dean know Cas has feelings for you; you can tell in the way they give him those pitying looks. And Cas has even told you on a few occasions that they've warned him not to get too close to you. They know you're with someone, they know you've been sneaking men in and out of your room, but what they don't know is that it's one man, and that man--or, well, angel--is their honorary brother, Castiel. 

Once the awkward newness of your relationship with Cas developed into something stronger, neither of you has been able to stay apart for long. Even when he’s out and can't answer Sam or Dean's prayers, if you call for him, he's there within seconds. You know it's an incredible privilege to have him at your beck and call, and sometimes when he answers, the first words out of his mouth are, "I'm sorry, but I don't have long." And then it takes everything in your willpower not to pounce on him where he stands. Grab him by the top of his tan trench coat, smash your lips to his, throw him on your bed, and keep him from his duties for hours…

You haven't seen him in the last week, and you swear your heart physically hurts with how much you miss him. Sam and Dean have prayed, you've called for him, and he still hasn't shown. Instead, he calls using a phone, answering the not-so-urgent questions your brothers had and then disappearing again. You don't dare talk to him in front of your older brothers like that; you're sure they'd be able to sense something's off.

But Castiel called you last night, after everyone had gone to bed, just to let you know that he was alright, to apologize profusely for not answering your calls, and that he misses you terribly. He explained briefly that he was following up on ‘something important’ and would see you soon, but tonight, you didn't plan on taking ‘see you soon’ for an answer. You know it would only take him seconds to flap his wings and get his butt over to see you, even just for a few minutes, and you knew he wasn't on any life-critical mission because if he were, he would’ve told you. In all honesty, you feel like he’s been avoiding you this past week, and you’re not sure why. Your relationship is the best it’s ever been. You both openly communicate with one another; you spend hours together late at night cuddling, talking, and then there’s the intimacy.

At first, Cas was too nervous, worried he might hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, so everything was slow. He wanted to make sure everything was done right by you. He was so timid that he would never initiate physical affection. He’d let you come to him first and make sure it was absolutely what you wanted without any persuasion on his part, but now, especially in the last couple of months, it felt like he couldn’t keep his hands off you! Whenever your brothers weren’t paying attention, or they’d round a corner before the two of you did, Cas would still for a second or two, kissing your lips, the back of your neck, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He loves you, and he reminds you every day of how much, so you don’t understand where his standoffish behavior is coming from. You’re determined to find out. 

Sitting on a stool at the old-school dining table in the men of letters’ kitchen, you wonder about Castiel. You roll a glass of water, listening to the quiet roll of the rounded edge on the wood table, watching the glass sweat condensation. It isn’t like Castiel to go this long without seeing you, but it isn’t unlike him to avoid. He knows he’s sometimes too direct in conversations and how that can put some people off, but you’re not some people. You’re his girlfriend. And you miss him. Terribly. Your blood runs hot, and your body aches for him. Just the thought of hearing his deep, gravelly voice raises the hair on your neck and fills your stomach with a tingling sensation. You wet your lips and gulp. That angel practically has your knees weak just at the thought of him, and he has the audacity to be away from you? 

"Hey, there, Reckless," Dean says, using your childhood nickname. 

You startle, sitting up a little straighter in your chair as he passes you to the refrigerator. 

“Woah,” Dean says, gesturing at you. “What’s got you so jumpy?" 

 You shake your head, trying to clear your completely inappropriate thoughts. "Nothing, just… couldn't sleep." You pull your glass of water from the table and sip. The cold condensation drips down your neck and onto the warm skin at your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. You can’t shake the thought of Castiel running his tongue across to catch the cool drops of water… 

"Nightmares?" Dean asks, opening the fridge and grabbing a glass bottle. 

"I didn't sleep to find out," you say with a small shrug. You clear your throat quietly, begging your mind to focus on something other than that hot, hot angel. "You?"

Dean grunts, popping the cap off his beer using the edge of the countertop. "Smart," he says, taking a swig. 

You stare at him from under your brow, giving him a stern, I-know-you're-avoiding-answering-my-question look. He catches it, and a small acknowledging chuckle escapes him. 

"Yeah, okay, you got me," he says with a shrug, taking another drink. "I had a nightmare. It's not the end of the world." 

"Not right now, it isn't," you grumble, sipping your water. 

"Touche." He leans against the countertop, crossing his arms casually. "So, you gonna call on one of your secret men to help you sleep again tonight?" Dean asks teasingly. 

You scoff, grabbing the hand towel beside you and throwing it at his face. He laughs, swiping it off and throwing it back at you before pushing off the counter.

"Alright, geeze, take a joke," Dean says, still grinning. He walks toward the hall but stops just long enough to say, "Night, kiddo." 

"Night, De," you say, unable to help the smile on your face. No matter how old you get, you think he’ll always call you that. 

After a few more minutes, and finishing your glass of water, you only grow more restless. You consider calling for Cas, but you have to consider what you’d say to him. Right now, you don’t know whether it’s the lack of sleep, the stress from your latest hunt, or just the days without seeing him, but you aren’t thinking about talking… You tap your fingers on the old 50s-style dining table, mulling over your options. An idea pops into your head, and you bite your lip to keep your excited grin from taking over your face. You jump up from your seat and rush out of the kitchen, only to run face-first into your giant brother. 

Sam laughs, grabs you by the shoulders to steady you, then stretches you back to arm's length. "Geeze, Lex, where's the fire?" He laughs. 

You try to fight off the blush that rises in your face, embarrassed that he caught you rushing off, and thankful he can’t read your thoughts. "Nowhere, I just... have to pee..." you lie. 

He raises his eyebrows, knowing that you're lying, but releases you, raising his hands defensively as he slides to the side out of your way. 

You glance down the left side of the hall, where your room is, and then turn to the right, off towards the bathroom. You have to follow through with it now. 

"Night, Lexy," Sam says, using another variation of your nickname. 

You can hear the grin in his voice, and if you had something to throw, you'd toss it back at him, too. You stand in the bathroom for a couple of minutes, mess with your hair to pass the time, just long enough to be plausible before sneaking back off to your room. 

You try to calm your racing heart and end up reorganizing your room in the process. You make your bed, clean off the top of your dresser, and kick your dirty clothes into their corner, all the while grumbling irritably. “I mean, what is his problem?” You throw your hands up before picking up another article of clothing. “Does he not want to see me? He’s never too busy for me,” you mumble the last part, feeling a tad bit childish, but unable to help your frustration. “I mean… Cas couldn’t possibly be…” You plop down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the edge of the dirty sweatshirt in your hands. “Could he be getting bored with me?” You glance down at your casual pajamas and worry you might not be putting in enough effort to keep the attention of an angel. He’s literally seen other angels, in their purest of forms, and here you are, sitting in a baggy white T-shirt and sweatpants. 

Just as you finish your sentence, you hear a brief flutter of angel’s wings from behind you, and your stomach drops. 

“I could never be bored with you.” 

Castiel’s deep voice rings in your ears, and the hair on the back of your neck stands. You shiver. 

“Cas,” you say, breathless from arguing with yourself. You want to turn around, but with the blush creeping over your cheeks, you freeze, pulling at the fabric in your lap. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you this past week,” Cas says, his footsteps nearing your bed. “I didn’t realize you–” 

“Where have you been?” You scold, jumping up with new energy and facing him. His blue eyes peer into yours, and his eyebrows pinch together as he pouts. 

“I didn’t mean to–” 

“I’ve been calling for you, praying for you, and all you’ve given me is a few phone calls in over seven days?” You say, tossing your sweatshirt in the corner vigorously. Castiel starts to open his mouth, but closes it, and you look away. Your masking anger melts away, and you fidget with your wrists and fingers. 

Cas walks up to you with slow, sure steps and gently takes your hands in his. “I am sorry, my love,” he says just over a whisper. “I didn’t mean to cause you to worry.” 

You squeeze his hands, watching them intertwine for a moment before pulling one from his grasp and lightly punching his chest. “Why have you been avoiding me?” You look up then, right into those cerulean blue eyes of his, and hold his confused gaze sternly. 

“I– Why did you hit me?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Answer my question.” You say, landing your finger on his chest. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, and all you want to do is draw yourself closer, wrap yourself in his coat, and kiss him until the sun rises, but you’re too stubborn for that. 

“I haven’t been–” 

“Yes, you have,” you say quickly, not allowing him to finish his more-than-likely lame excuse. 

He takes a breath in and sighs, nervously shifting his weight and looking off to the side. 

You’ve caught him red-handed. 

“I was…” Cas starts, but hesitates. “Afraid.” 

“Afraid?” You repeat, shocked. You instantly soften, relaxing your hand against his chest. “Afraid of what, Cas?” 

“Afraid that I was taking things too quickly, and, well…” He stops again, but this time, a rosy pink rises in his cheeks as he continues. “Too much.” 

You cover your mouth as a smile takes over, and bite back a laugh to just a quiet chuckle. 

“Why are you laughing at me?” Cas asks in all seriousness. “I am telling you the truth.” 

“Did you feel like it was too much, or were you just worried that I thought it was too much?” You ask, smirking even as you remove your hand to place it back on his chest. His hand squeezes your other one, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of yours. 

“I thought that you might need some… space.” Cas explains timidly. 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because Dean–” 

“Stop right there,” you say abruptly, pumping the air with your free hand. 

Cas stares at you earnestly, and you swear you can see his whole heart on his sleeve. 

“I’m sorry,” you say unbelievingly, “but what is it that De said to you to make you think I wouldn’t want you around?” 

“He said that you particularly don’t like to be coddled. And that I needed to back off because you were…” His eyes flick away from yours a moment before realigning, a deep sigh pushing its way past his lips, which draws your attention to them. You watch his mouth as he says. “...seeing somebody.” 

“The only person I’m seeing is you,” you say quickly, catching yourself leaning in. You stop, trying your best to hold your ground. You look up at him through lashes, and your hand, against your better judgment, grabs hold of his jacket’s lapel, clinging to it tightly. “I only want you,” you say just above a whisper. 

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking as the realization hits him. “Oh, you mean to say that you want–” 

Before he can finish spelling your desires out, you pull him to you and press your lips to his. He instantly melts to your touch, his hot breath mingling with yours in a desperate kiss. He lets go of your hand to wrap his arms tightly around you, lifting your feet from the floor and spinning you around, which elicits a giggle from you, and he swears electricity strikes his heart. You pull away just enough to look in his eyes, and he says, “Why didn’t you just ask?” 

“I know you’re comfortable with the whole direct communication thing,” you say, keeping your voice hushed, “but I thought you were avoiding me. You didn’t answer my prayers, and I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“You could never bother me,” he says seriously, letting you go slowly so that your body runs down his on your way to the floor. 

“Would you do me a favor, Castiel?” You ask sweetly, using his full name. 

A shiver runs down his spine, and he hums. “Anything for you.”  

“Would you not listen to a word either one of my brothers says about me?” You lean up, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before trailing down his jaw. 

“Well, they say a lot of things,” Cas states, swallowing thickly as he feels your warm mouth meet the sensitive skin on his neck. His grip tightens unintentionally at your waist. 

“And?” You ask, sliding your hands into his coat and running them from his chest, down his strong abdomen, untucking his white button-down. Your fingers trace the top of his black dress pants, teasing to undo his belt while you trail kisses at his collarbone. 

“And I won’t listen to a word they say,” Cas melts, his mind filling with a distracting buzzing energy. He leans into you, lowering his hands to your thighs, his chin briefly resting on your chest before he hoists you up into his arms. He squeezes your legs tight, his grip sliding up to your rear end as he kicks his shoes off. His eyes are glossed over with desire and are locked onto yours as he carefully crawls onto your bed, laying you down beneath him. 

“That’s my angel,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his ear, then his jaw, making your way back to his lips. 

He hums, and the vibration in his chest rumbles against yours as he presses you into your mattress. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he murmurs, his voice low and quiet, only for you to hear. 

You smile widely at him, pulling his coat off, to which he quickly shrugs, and begins unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes on you. As his shirt slides off his shoulders, his hands immediately find the hem of your baggy shirt. He slides his warm palms firmly up your sides, grazing the edge of your bra as he draws the fabric over your head, leaving you shivering in the cool air of the bunker before he pulls you close again.

It doesn’t take long before his lips are meeting yours again, but this time with a much more confident, driving passion. His tongue mingles with yours, his hands squeeze your sides, lifting you just enough to slide under the covers with you. He kisses down your neck, and his right hand slides over your arm, taking your hand and drawing it over your head. 

“I missed you,” you whisper breathlessly, arching your back into his body. 

“And I,” he says in between kisses to your warm skin, “missed you.”

If they're walking beside him? He'd wrap his wings around them.

If they catch him off guard by randomly hugging him? He'd freeze for a second, but then he'd pull them closer and then he'd wrap his wings around them. He would definitely stay like that until reader decided to pull away, being too scared to move —even the tiniest bit—in case he somehow ruined the moment with his awkwardness when it comes to human behaviours.

If they're tucked against his side while watching a movie? He'd wrap an arm and wing around them without saying a word.

If they wake up from a bad dream? He'd pull them into his lap, kissing the top of their head, mumbling something along the lines of "it was only a dream, you're safe. I've got you. I've got you," until they fall asleep again. He would then wrap his wings around them for the rest of the night and make sure they slept well.

You've been avoiding cas for days. Not that he deserves it, he's everything you could ever hope for in a boyfriend.

He listens to every word that falls from your lips like it's gods word. He's present, careful, and highly protective.

Only one problem, it had recently dawned on you, after he casually mentioned an estimate of how old he was, that castiel (much like he had everything else) would more than likely outlive you.

You would grow old and pass, if you were lucky enough to live that long, and castiel would continue living, experiencing evolution and life.

you didn't mean to avoid him as bad as you have been, in all honestly you weren't sure how it spiraled that much.

You could feel his heavy and confused gaze on you, which didn't make it any easier.

 Later cas found you in your room, tidying what you could to ease your mind. "You've been avoiding me" he states. Your actions cease and you turn towards him. His mouth was down turned, his eyes were assessing you as if he was looking for below surface level damages

"Have I done something to offend you?" He asked. It saddened you even further because of the fact that it had been affecting him enough to blame himself.

Your eyebrows knitted, a frown settled on your face as you shook your head, guilt gnawing at your chest. Your hand moved to the stubble along his jaw, and you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips "No baby, I'm just not feeling too good." You said. It wasn't a lie per se, it just wasn't the full truth.

He blinked, his expression mimicking yours, somewhat satisfied by the kiss but still worried, "it makes you feel better to be away from me? Would you like me to lea-"

You cut him off "no cas, I love being around you I'm just- I was being selfish, I'm sorry." You assured him. Cas relaxed slightly, melting into your touch.

He knew you weren't telling him everything, but he had come to learn that humans need time to regulate with their emotions sometimes, and he respected it.

 A few days later, you and cas went out for a supply run. Just to restock on essentials; beer, eggs, Greek yogurt, vegan ice cream that Sam is currently obsessed with, and some extra things for yourself.

He followed you through the store, trying to be as much help as he could. You looked over the items in the cart before entering the checkout line "Wait, I forgot deans ribs." You muttered to yourself, "cas-" you turned to ask if he could get them for you but he was gone, in his place stood a woman with a conniving smile "sorry, castiel had to go" she spoke.

Before you could react she pressed her finger to your forehead and it went dark.

 When cas returned with the ribs, you were nowhere in sight and the cart was exactly how it was when he left worry immediately set in.

He searched began searching the whole store panic setting in fast as he dialed deans number.

"Hey don't forget my-"

"Dean I can't find her" he cuts off dean.

"Can't find who?" Dean asks, tone changing completely.

Cas answers with your name "I went to find ribs and when I came back she was gone" his rushes through every isle, hoping that you were just off looking for something.

It was times like that when Castile regretted having warded your ribs.

"Son of a bitch! Alright just- just come home let's figure this out"

"I have to find her" cas told him.

"And we will. Just get here."

Your eyes opened without much resistance, you looked around the brightly lit room, struggling against the chair that had you cuffed to it.

You knew where you were, it was the same place the angels had taken Adam before he was offered up to be Michael’s vessel.

Suddenly the angel from before appeared in front of you. She stood cockily as you glared at her "What the hell is this?" You asked through clenched teeth.

She smiled "this, is where you'll be spending your last moments" she wnswered. Your heart plummeted "what you're gonna kill me?" You asked.

She laughed "well not immediately, no. I'm gonna make you suffer a little bit, give poor castiel a taste of his own medicine"

You tensed in your chair "so angels are torturing now. Good to know you and demons-" you were cut off by a harsh slap across your face, your ear rang and your face stung.

"How dare you compare me to those mutts" she grabbed your jaw tightly making you wince. "I am gonna have so much fun with you. And don't bother praying to your angel friend. He can't hear you"

And then it began.

 Castiel hadn't stopped searching. Sam, Dean were doing interrogations. Castiel’s hope dwindled by the second. He went through angel groups, demon groups and still had nothing.

It worried him that you'd been gone for two days, you hadn’t reached out somehow. A call, text, even a prayer. Because you always found a way even in impossible circumstances.

He stood in the middle of what was a group of demons, now just corpses. When a small and tired voice infiltrated his ears.

 Your body ached in ways you'd never experienced. Your skin was tight and itching from layers of dried blood. You were positive half of the bones in your upper body were broken.

Your stomach leaked blood from a deep, aching, stab wound. Your hands were still bound so you couldn't slow the bleeding. Tears fell freely down your face as you struggled to breathe. Your body was ready to give but you were too stubborn to give up just yet.

'Cas I need you, I can't hold on much longer. I need you to hear me… please'

When he heard your broken voice he sprang into action. He teleported to the bunker to grab Sam and dean and teleported them to where you were being held.

The three of them handled the angels standing gaurd outside of the warehouse in a quick and messy fashion.

When he stepped inside his eyes immediately landed on you. Your body was limp in the chair and the smell of your blood was strong.

"Oh my god" Sam and dean froze when they saw the state of you. They had tortured and killed but never in their time on earth had they seen something as bad as this.

Castiel had never moved as fast as he had moved to get to you. He checked your pulse to find a weak heartbeat

"Is she alive?" Sam asked?

Cas grabbed your swollen and bruised face gently, "barley. I cannot heal her completely, her condition is bad." He broke the steel binds of the chair, then pressed his hand to your chest, letting his grace work as best as it could.

Your body healed enough to strengthen your heartbeat but you still needed to see a doctor.

"Find the angel who did this, and kill her" cas demanded lowly before taking her in his arms and disappearing.

 When you finally woke up at the hostpital, you let out a sound of relief. castiel was standing above you, holding your hand tight. You gave him a weak smile "you came for me" your voice barely audible.

Cas eyebrows knitted sadly, as if the sight of you brought him physical pain. "I will always save you." He promised.

As your condition bettered they released you from the hostpital. Every time you remembered how close to death you were your thoughts spiraled.

You spent more time crying and avoiding castiel than anything. It was eating you alive inside.

When your bedroom door opened you fully expected to see castiel standing there, but it wasn't. Instead it was Sam. He wore the same look he's been giving you since he walked in and seen you in the hospital.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, "do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

You avoided his face, curling into yourself "I'm fine Sammy" you said. Which again, wasn't a lie, but not the full truth either.

He gives you a look, "your eyes are red and you e been avoiding cas like he's the one who put you in that hospital bed" he said.

You closed your eyes at the reminder. Cas has been giving you your space. Not being too pushy and keeping a safe enough distance so hw eouldnt have to endure you running away from him.

You swollowd harshly "it's not his fault… it's me, I just- he shouldn't be with me." You admitted. Sam's eyebrows furrowed "wait what? Why not?"

"Because I'm human Sam! At first it was fine I realised that one day I I’m gonna die and he would keep living, but then I got kidnapped and- I was so close to dead Sam. So close and if it hadn't been for him I would be. He shouldn't have had to do that. I’m so fragile compared-"

"There's nothing wrong with being fragile" cas voice pulled you from your rant. You looked at him, wide eyed and shocked that he heard everything you said.

Sam quickly stood and left the room, closing the door behind him which you were silently grateful for.

Castiel moved towards you slowly as if trying not to scare you away. "You're fragile, not weak." He told you. He grabbed your hand "I may live for an eternity, or I may die tomorrow. But I would be okay with that because I got to experience you."

Tears filled your eyes, and for the first time in weeks you relaxed. "Angel or not I've been at the brink of death many times, and ever since meeting you all I can think of in those moments is how greatful I am that you chose me."

Cas scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you for the first time since he found you in that warehouse, except this time he wasn't praying that you would live, he was praying that you let him hold you. You did.

He held you tightly, but still mindful of your still healing wounds. You pressed a long kiss to his lips, finally allowing yourself to relax into him. You hated yourself for depraving yourself of him and him from you.

"If your love was all I had in this life, that would be enough until the end of time" he muttered against your lips. You smiled, pulling away slightly to look him in the face. "Did you just quote a Justin Timberlake song?" Your tone was light and amused and brought flutters to Castile stomach.

He smiled "yes, I guess I did" he said before kissing you again.