#and Cas is getting ready to pluck every single feather from his wings before Dean is like NO no Im KIDDING dont do that

[casdeans-pie]

Every Thursday Cas finds a way to sneak a special angel feather into one of Dean's pockets - so he gets a tiny bit of extra good luck

The feather fades away after 24 hours and it actually uses a lot of Cas's energy to pluck it and hide it on Dean every week, but he likes to feel useful. he likes to feel like he's able to watch over Dean and protect him and help him. even just a little bit. even in just the small way he can as the Angel Of Thursday

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 10: Creature AU

Operation Little Red Riding Cas | @dean-cas-in-the-impala Rating: Explicit Word Count: 17434 Main Tags and Warnings: Criminal, Action, Drama, Humor, Creature fic Summary: Castiel Novak is a bothersome reporter from a local newspaper, who has compromising evidence against a mob boss named Crowley, known as The King of Hell. Dean Winchester, who works for Crowley is commanded to get rid of Novak. His plan to charm and lure the victim into a trap fails, when the sneaky reporter vanishes from the bar where they meet. But the thing Castiel does not know is that Dean is a werewolf and he remembers his scent, enabling him to find the gorgeous but impudent reporter, no matter where he goes.

Walpurgis Moon | @jemariel Rating: Mature Word Count: 5486 Main Tags and Warnings: Dean/Cas, Fae Castiel, Fae & Fairies, Case fic, fairy wings Summary: Written for the SPN Holiday Reverse Mini-Bang! Art by Pimentogirl. Dean bends low and plucks a sprig of tiny blue flowers. They’re pretty, he supposes. If you like that sort of thing. He plucks a few more stems until he has a small bundle. Behind him he hears a tinkle, like chimes in the wind. But when he turns - nothing. Only dark tree trunks. A brush of wind, like a feather or a leaf brushing his cheek, and he whips around, ready with a cold iron crowbar in his fist, but again, nothing. Except - is that movement? Between the trees? No. Just a trick of the moonlight. Probably. Dean meets a stranger. Be he friend or foe?

sunflares | @reallyelegantsharkfish Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2684 Main Tags and Warnings: Incubus Castiel, Demons Are Known, Human Dean Winchester, Demon Castiel, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Character, Wings, Horns, Cuddling & Snuggling, Naked Cuddling, Kissing, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic Summary: Dean’s hand reaches to guide Cas’s chin into another kiss. This feels like the fore-warning to satiation, the promise of a rich meal to come, and Cas’s wings curve forward to hold Dean closer to him.

Interspecies | @destielshipper2017 + @callmemisshorizon Rating: Mature Word Count: 60551 Main Tags and Warnings: Creature Dean, Creature Sam, Shifters, Monsters, hurt Sam, Protective Sam, Protective Dean, Kaiju, Transgenics, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, antagonistic Ketch Summary: After being free for over 2 years, Sam and Dean were recaptured again by a secret government society that has been testing transgenic species for many years, in attempt to control them and use them for war purposes.

An Accidental Incubus | @jupiterjames Rating: Explicit Word Count: 40380 Main Tags and Warnings: incubus Dean, Angel Castiel, creature Dean, soul bonds, FOD Summary: On a hunt gone wrong, Dean finds himself cursed to be an incubus. While Sam and Charlie rush to find a cure before the change is permanent, Castiel decides to become Dean's "offering" when the hunter begins to deteriorate under the effects of the change.

The Quest for the Demon King's Heart | @cr-noble-writes Rating: Explicit Word Count: 12500 Main Tags and Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Major Injury, Angry Sex, Rough Sex, Fantasy AU, Major Character Injury, Demon King!Dean, Wood Elf!Castiel Summary: In a fantasy land, Dean, the Demon King, goes to a distant guild to take a break from evil, where he meets a young adventurer, Castiel, on a quest to slay the Demon King. For fun, Dean helps and protects the adventurer, and affection grows between them. Then, they arrive at the gates of his castle.

Rescue Mission for Two | @pherryt Rating: Mature Word Count: 48478 Main Tags and Warnings: Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Creature Fic, First Kiss, Dragon!Cas, stubborn!Cas, border skirmishes, Captured, brief non graphic torture scenes, Magic, self sacrificing characters, Secrets, bed sharing, Telepathy, nakedness (but no smut), Dragons, Fairies, sick!Cas, Comfort/Angst, Angst, hurt!Dean, drugged!cas, brief section of Cas being drugged against his will Summary: Castiel thinks he's the last of his kind and doomed to live a life alone. He's hiding in plain sight, as a human soldier in Angels Outfit, fighting alongside other companies - including Lord Winchesters renowned cavalry, the Silver Hooves - when his soul mark unbelievably flares to life. Either he's not the only Dragon to survive the war, or he's bonded with a human. Before he can figure out which of his fellow soldiers it could be, he's sent across into enemy territory on a rescue mission. Lord Winchester's eldest has been captured and last rumored to be in Alastair's hands. Castiel can't say no, but the clock is ticking and if he doesn't find his soul mate, he will die.

Little Blue Dragon | @saltnhalo Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23820 Main Tags and Warnings: Dragon Castiel, blacksmith Dean, magic, soulmates, pining Summary: Dean Winchester may have a reputation for being a skilled craftsman and blacksmith, but his life is just like anyone else’s. He’s over-worked and under-slept, and it’s all because of the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that tells him he’s�� forgetting something. Still, he can’t let his weird dreams or errant thoughts get in the way of his work and his love for his craft. The strange feeling goes ignored. That is, until he meets a man with jewel-blue eyes and an aura of intrigue. Castiel slots into his life in a way that Dean had never thought possible, and Dean grows accustomed to the mysterious man’s visits and brilliant smiles and tales of far-away places. He’d never known he was missing a piece of himself until he met Castiel, and he thinks that Cas might feel the same way. Until Castiel disappears from Dean’s life completely.

Ensnared | @saltnhalo

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10359 Main Tags and Warnings: Siren Cas, sailor Dean, shipwrecked, desert island Summary: As the current pulls him a little closer to the island, the singing grows stronger. It’s deep and lyrical and the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard and he’s suddenly overcome by the desperate, searing need to be closer, to hear it in all its intended glory. And as he passes a single spur of rock that juts out a little further into the ocean than the others, Dean sees him.

The Captain's Fishy Admirer | @sheinthatfandom Rating: General Word Count: 1958 Main Tags and Warnings: alternative universe-pirate, pirate dean, merman castiel, pirate ship impala, based on fan art, Summary: Dean Winchester is the Captain of the Pirate ship Impala, feared on the seas and is a wanted criminal. He's someone to be feared and respected, so why can't he get this cute merman to leave him alone?

The Crane In White | @drawlight Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9994 Main Tags and Warnings: Creature Castiel, Romance, Pining, Fairytale, AU - Modern Setting Summary: Once upon a time, there was a little crane who fell in love with a human. He prayed every night to be made human to be with his love. Once upon a time, Dean Winchester finds a white crane.

Forget Me Not | @thebloggerbloggerfun Rating: General Word Count: 3638 Main Tags and Warnings: Ghost!Castiel, MCD (because he's a ghost), flowershop owner!Dean Summary: Dean gets a little more than he bargains for when he accidentally buys a haunted flower shop.

In the company of greatness | @angelneedshunter Rating: General Word Count: 4815 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate universe, Dragon!Cas, Knight!Dean, High Fantasy, Established Relationship, Praise kink, bonding, Summary: All Dean wants is to spend the holiday in peace with Cas. He spots trouble though as a girl approaches the mountain where he and the dragon Castiel resides in. That is the problem when you are dating a dragon. All the sacrifices interrupting your snuggle time.

secret of the sea | @saltnhalo Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2465 Main Tags and Warnings: Creature Castiel (Supernatural), Selkie Castiel (Supernatural), Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Castiel (Supernatural), First Meetings Summary: It feels like neither of them are breathing as Dean wades another half-step closer, the waves tugging at his waist now, his clothes soaked. How am I going to explain this? he thinks, this surreal moment that is happening even as he should be making his way back to the safety, the normalcy, of home. But instead he’s standing in the ocean as the sun disappears beneath the horizon and the stars begin to come out above, ignoring the bitter cold of the water to free a seal that watches him warily but almost seems to know that Dean is its only chance at survival right now.

As the World Falls Down (WIP) | @thursdays-fallen-angel Rating: Mature Word Count: 28251 Main Tags and Warnings: Fae!Cas, Half-Fae!Dean, King!Cas Summary: After his mom died, Dean swore off anything and everything relating to her heritage, going so far as to ignore the Fae blood in his own veins. The only magic he uses is to keep his inhuman qualities hidden, and as far as he’s concerned, that’s all he needs. However, when a Fae assassin suddenly appears and tries to kill Sam, everything is forced to change. With nowhere else to turn for help saving his brother’s life, Dean makes a desperate move and takes them both to the Fae Realm. Once they’re there, though, Dean quickly realizes that the Fae Realm isn’t nearly as idyllic as his mother wanted him to believe. Someone there wants Dean and Sam dead, everyone keeps secrets, and the king— The king may just be the most confusing part of it all.

The Offering | @deans-jiggly-pudding Rating: Explicit Word Count: 167703 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, incubus Cas, high school AU, religious homophobia, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, trans female character, porn with plot, smut, comfortably bisexual Dean Winchester, minor character death, conversion therapy, angst with a happy ending Summary: As a pastor's son, Dean Winchester is expected to be all the things he's not: the church poster child, compliant with every plan his father has for him, and of course, straight. Fighting the confines of his father's faith and the control it has over his life, Dean is caught in the middle of a teen lock-in activity that will change his life. The boys accidentally summon an incubus named Cas, and his demands are clear. Dean discovers Cas to be everything he expected... Yet, even the darkest of creatures has secrets of his own. Can they be together, despite who they are, and despite everything designed to keep them apart?

No Man's Waters (WIP) | @envydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 16326  Main Tags and Warnings: merman!cas, merman!Dean, merfolk, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, War, Treason, Touch-Starved!Cas Summary: When Castiel is cast out of his territory for disobeying orders for war, he’s left to perish in No Man’s Waters, the treacherous depth between the Garrison Territory and the Huntsman’s Territory. Nothing survives there, and Castiel is barely holding on to life when one of the Huntsmen Merfolk comes to his aid.

Never Give All the Heart | @castielrisingabove Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 82096 Main Tags and Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fae Castiel, Hunter Dean, Slow Burn Summary: Dean knows that fae are dangerous, but he's never crossed paths with one until he stumbled into the realm of the mysterious Castiel. Meanwhile, Castiel has spent centuries having no interest in humans...until Dean appears in his life, strange and demanding and intriguing. They can't really be falling for each other, right?

Inked Feathers, Wounded Skin | @lunastories Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 59237 Main Tags and Warnings: Fantasy Au, hurt/comfort, Harpy!Cas, Angst with a happy ending Summary: Retired hunters Dean and Sam live in a cabin in the woods, only occasionally taking cases from nearby villagers and those who need their help. Castiel is the very protective harpy that has been awkwardly following (stalking) Dean for years. After Castiel injures a wing, he is taken in by the Winchesters. As Dean tends to him, they form a relationship, and Dean slowly falls for the harpy. But the unique peach cream color of Castiel’s wings hides a secret; one he isn’t sure Dean could accept.

Dean and Castiel's Lagoon of Love | @almaasi Rating: Explicit Word Count: 12519 Main Tags and Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tentacle Porn, Explicit Consent, Dean's Tentacle Fetish, Sexual Roleplay, Octopus Castiel, Human Castiel, Cursed Castiel, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Witch Curses Summary: Castiel is presently an octopus from the waist down. But the curse is only going to last a few more hours, and there's only so long Dean can delay before asking Cas to act out the erotic anime closest to his heart: "Sweet Princess Asuka Meets the Tentacles of Pleasure". Cas is the tentacle monster. And Dean is the heartbroken princess, seeking renewal in the monster's lagoon of love. The storyline may not be complicated, but when their half-innocent roleplay becomes more sensual than they planned, their feelings grow complex. Dean can leave the paddling pool in the bunker garage behind, but once Cas has his legs back, he can follow. There are still feelings to resolve. Their story isn't over yet.

Lucid Nightmare | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 10202 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe, Emotional Intimacy or Die, Spooky Fluff, Darkfic, Romance, Adventure, Siren Castiel, Winged Castiel, Prisoner Castiel, Supernatural Elements, Doubting Reality, Lucid Dreaming, Dreams and Nightmares, Running Away, Road Trips, Consent, Dreamwalking, Sharing a Bed, Unconventional Format, Rhyming, Poetry, Unsettling Summary: there's fire in this city // sirens, ghosts, and earthquakes // one night, you protect me // and we run until dawn breaks // Or: A spooky, fluffy, mind-warping existential-themed half-fic half-poem, in which Dean saves siren!Cas from a real-life waking nightmare and drives him to Bobby's house for safety. But as Cas reveals more about himself and his past, Dean comes to realise he has to let his new winged friend enter his mind and dreamwalk, or else Cas will die.

The Tailor of Fairy Ridge | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 17957 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Historical, Fantasy, Friendship, Pre-Slash, Fluff, Adventure, Tailor Castiel, Fairy Dean, Mute Dean, Dean Loves Pie, Dean Loves Clothes, Fairy Sam, Fairy Mary, Witch Charlie, Magic, Spring, Festivals, Kidnapping, Mind Control, Profound Bond Summary: A lonely, struggling tailor named Castiel discovers he has a fairy living in his shop, supplying him with clever new ideas for clothes every night. Dean is a glutton for all things sugary, and he doesn't speak a word. Of course, Castiel can't help but adore his company.

A Severe Case Of Fairy | @sternchencas Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38464 Main Tags and Warnings: fairy tale AU, fairy!Cas, angst and fluff and smut Summary: When Dean gets thrown into another world during a hunt, it seems like a fever dream that he wishes to escape, but it could also become the best thing that has ever happened to him.

[webcricket]

Looking Glass

Chapter 8 - Fly Me to the Moon

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 2450

Summary: Supportive Sam, pining angel wings (turns out it’s a thing), and a post-prayer reunion where Cas and the reader acquiesce to the undeniable goodness of the connection budding between them.

A/N: To those dedicated souls in the back still reading author’s notes, chapter 9 promises a payoff of pure fluff.

Miss a chapter? Have a Masterlist Link!

The furious bellow of a tractor trailer horn blares somewhere ahead in a highway scene shrouded in a morning mist of rain burning off the blacktop under the blazing kiss of the rising sun. Undisturbed by the distant noisy intrusion into the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the car, Sam’s fingers remain near motionless where they drape the steering wheel; the gracefully long digits occasionally flex and contract, making minute undulant adjustments to compensate for the winding curves of the road. Hazel eyes peacefully pensive, brow untroubled, the hunter stares ahead into the lifting fog, intent on the drive home.

Sat in the passenger seat, Cas contemplates the green and white mile markers sailing by in a blur along the roadside; according to his angelic reckoning – a feat of navigational honing very much akin to that of the regrettably extinct species of North American homing pigeon – the markers are off by a mere fraction of a thousandth of a mile probably owing to the result of a surveyor’s error, malfunctioning equipment, or the United States obstinate failure to adopt the metric system of measurement like the rest of the freaking developed world. The freaking, of course, is Dean’s invaluable contribution to the angel’s internal flow of meditative monologue.

It’s a fact of technicality the angel keeps to himself; although, within the limited circle of humans he calls friends – no, family – he considers Sam most likely to harbor the humor necessary to appreciate the trivial observation. Dean’s mode would be mockery. Then, of course, there’s the great unknown of you; you, who persistently dominates his thoughts now no matter where they bend. In gleaning fragmented knowledge of your past and present with each healing pass of his grace and the too brief spans of time spent in your company, he’s beginning to understand the battered but brave survivor better – well enough to guess that, if not the detail of the erroneous measurement itself, you might find his absurd notation of it nonetheless amusing. The possibility of arousing some small joy within you excites an ephemeral smile on his lips.

The anticipatory buzz of excitement is fleeting.

“Cas!” Your pained appeal slams into his celestial awareness with no loss of momentum in traversing the gulf of distance between you.

His wings jolt to the ready, an irrepressible instinct, outstretching and straining against the restrictions of their impairment upon perceiving the desperation of your plea. Reaching their broad black span upward in a single swift beat, ensnared inescapably in the confines of their hidden heavenly dimension, the appendages ripple and rustle in dissent to their damage; silken feathers tattered, plumes stripped to the bare barbs and deeply scarred in sections, they reflexively recollect but are rendered incapable of their once swift capacity for flight.

Lightning searing across and seizing his vessel’s shoulders, Cas pitches forward with a ragged groan and braces his palms against the dashboard as he struggles to subdue the rising winged revolt taking place in response to your summoning. He’s hopelessly immobilized from instantaneous arrival at your side, yet every atom of his celestial being tears at his vessel, beckoning to answer your prayer.

“What?!” Startled by the sudden commotion – the worst of which remains unseen by him – Sam swerves sharply, steering to the gravel edge of the road. “What is it?” He taps a tentative hand to Cas’ arm – every muscle of the limb beneath the layers of fabric tenses and trembles with all modicum of control the angel is able to rally. Although he doesn’t fully fathom the extent of it, Sam recognizes the symptoms of stress disturbing his friend. “Angels again?”

“No,” Cas forces the reply through a gritted jaw. “It’s Y/N. She’s hurting . . . praying for help . . . for me. Just keep-” Regaining his composure through sheer command of celestial will, fingers slipping on the vinyl dash as the initial sting of pain passes, he slumps into the scooped embrace of the seat. “Just keep driving.”

Sam’s eyes rove to the gauges of the car. He hasn’t expressed it aloud, but he worries about the effect you’re having on Cas here at the precipice of the latest looming apocalypse. He admits it’s good to see his friend backing down from do-or-die Terminator-esque soldier mode; but you, your coarseness toward him, abrasiveness in general, the angel surely feels a debt of responsibility learning there’s an evil version of himself traipsing around in the other universe who all but destroyed your mind. He thinks it’s a lot even for a stoical seraph to absorb.

Sam can’t imagine the conflict Cas feels, mainly because processing emotions verbally – or at all – isn’t exactly the angel’s strong suit. He knows well that Cas’ greatest fault and his best quality are one and the same – a habitual need to make things right no matter the personal cost. He wonders if the burden of caring for you circles back to making amends with Dean for Donatello – a chance to correct a mistake. “Is she okay? You know, if you want, we can talk about what’s going on.”

The angel knows you’re not okay; that, although he appreciates the open offer, talking will do nothing to correct this; and that, from his present distance-impaired location, he can do frustratingly little to help you. Grace uselessly surging, he may as well be human. Dismissing Sam’s concern, head sagging to his shoulder, blues squinting, he grumbles, “Sam, we’re not moving.”

“Right, got it.” Sam stows his concern, throws the clutch in gear, and swings the car back onto the highway.

A final spasm twitches the angel’s wings as they fold and refold fitfully together. He thinks – slanting his gaze at the console clock now and then, excruciating minutes of separation stretching into hours that should pass inconsequentiality for an ageless being existing since the dawn of time but instead drag – that perhaps, like the specious mile markers, time itself on this endless sun-drenched stretch of highway is faulty.

Inclined against the door jamb of the kitchen, fretting over her gleaming red manicure, Rowena pauses mid-chew of her pinky nail when she perceives a rush of footsteps resounding in the hall. She taps the chipped nail thoughtfully on her tooth – the redeemed witch didn’t sign up to babysit; she’s also wise enough to comprehend how it would bode for her if something terrible happened on her watch whether or not she was still present in the bunker to be blamed when the Winchesters and their angel arrived home to find you in a deeply disturbed state. Caring, she’s beginning to discover, comes with its own unique set of complications.

As Cas rounds the corner in purposeful, gloriously angelic, and full trench coat billowing stride toward the kitchen, Rowena bodily flings herself at him with an exaggerated squawk. “There’s our high and mighty hero! Took your time getting here, didn’t you? The poor girl’s been in there sufferin’ for hours. Hours! And where were you? Off gallivanting with a Winchester, of course!”

Cas ignores both the ridicule and the whip-tongued woman wielding it. He brushes past her explicatory flailing form as she animatedly complains about the circumstances of being left alone with you completely ignorant of your infirmity and alternately drones on about an episode with a screeching tea pot.

The angel finds you hunkered in a corner – wedged between the wall and a shelf – hugging your knees, face buried in your bent arms. Approaching cautiously, he crouches before you and, remembering your adverse reflex to his unexpected touch, resists the desire to lay a palm comfortingly to the roundness of your shoulders rising with a shallow inhalation. “Y/N?”

Hair sweeping in clumps across your red-rimmed eyes, you peer out at him through puffy lids from within the cocoon of crossed limbs. The reality is, your head stopped aching hours ago. You staged a kitchen coup because precisely when your headache peaked and subsided, your heart assumed hurting where your head left off under the barraged return of your memories. Remembering feels a whole lot like losing everything and everyone you ever loved all over again to an apocalypse. Sniffling against a long since dried well of tears, defaulting to your signature defensive defiance in affront to this new and improved onslaught of internal agony, you muster a bit of spirited pluck for the especially concerned looking seraph’s sake to prove to him you’re fine. “You’re late.”

Several lines fissuring his anxiously wrought features iron themselves out in a wash of relief. Spunk is good; it’s expected – it’s limitless spring in your soul is something he admires. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I can’t-” His blues – swiftly subduing into seas of sadness and shame – glaze and veer in avoidance to the assortment of dusty disused cooking utensils on the bottom shelf beside you. Husky tone sinking to a raw whisper, he addresses what seems to be a sensitive subject. “Well, you’d call it flying. I can’t do that, not anymore.” Regard bending back to you to gauge your reaction to his admission of angelic debilitation, he adds gravely, “In all likelihood, not ever again.”

“That’s funny.” You realize the unintended offence as soon as the words lob off your tongue.  You meant to say: ‘Hey, that’s an interesting coincidence, cause the other you can’t fly either.’

Cadence clipped, his expression hardens. “I fail to see the humor in the incapacitation of my wings-”

“No, I didn’t mean-” You grab at his sleeve, apologetic. “It’s not funny, ha ha. I meant that it’s strange. Strange, because the other Castiel – he can’t fly either. The angels, when we wouldn’t talk, they summoned him and he came in a truck – an armored truck – by himself. An angel travelling by land, it was . . . weird.” Grimacing, it occurs to you that you’ve managed to deride Cas’ feathery debility and imply he’s strange and weird in the same breath. Apparently, your ability to translate thoughts into lucid unoffending speech is short-circuiting. You try again, because the idea of band-aiding the situation with more syllables sounds super sound inside your noggin. “Not that you’re weird, you-”

“You remember all of that?” he interrupts what was likely to be another unintentional seraphim slight. There’s a suggestion of forgiveness in the subtlest of smiles skirting his mouth.

“I’m remembering a lot of things,” you reply, watching the smile shift upward to crease the corners of his eyes at the news. Self-conscious when your gaze catches his, your focus falls from the glimmer of gladness flooding his face to your fingers continuing to clutch at the fabric of his coat sleeve. You should let go. You don’t want to let go. It’s strange and weird to still be holding on, but he hasn’t made any motion of protest. Here, and there, Cas – the first person you saw in this world, or Castiel – the last face you saw in yours, the angel is a constant. It’s why you prayed to him, this him in a tea pot induced panic when your miserable memories came crashing back to your consciousness all at once; he’s your touchstone in the good.

If he notices the epic struggle of self-discovery taking place in the fluctuating pressure of your fingertips attached to his coat sleeve, he doesn’t mention it. “You’re remembering – that’s good.”

“Is it? Most all of it – it’s bad. Really bad.” You know he’s right – in theory it’s good. In practice it cinches your fist tighter and gives you greater reason to hold on to him.

“It’s good because it means you’re recovering,” he states – at least one of you has an accurate read on deciphering your thoughts. “How’s your head?”

Biting your lower lip, you tease, “Still attached.”

Chin tilting, gaze narrowing, he chides, “Y/N.”

You shrug. “Better . . . I guess. The noise sensitivity resolved the hundredth or so time witchy Nanny McPhee ingratiatingly asked me if she could do anything else – ‘Anythin’ at all, dear!’ – that didn’t involve boiling water in brass pots.”

A skeptical humph vibrates in his throat. He casts you a doubtful stare to punctuate his pessimism over your lack of certainty.

“Okay, better, definitely better,” you concede and posit his next thought before he can mutter it. “And before you ask if I’m tired, the only tired I am is of being stuck in this damn bunker.”

“Can you stand?” Reaching his free hand across the sleeve you have securely embedded in your grasp, he glides the rough pads of his fingers gently along the ticklish inner surface of your thumb and upturned wrist; when you don’t flinch away from him, he allows his light caress to linger there longer, heat sparking on your skin.

“I-I think so,” you stutter, attention torn between the simple question and the balminess of his flesh where it grazes yours.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” His tender touch trails to your elbow; encircling your arm, he helps you rise to your feet. He pivots and sidesteps to ensure you don’t feel cornered without escape upon standing.

You wobble on your disused legs, using the unsteadiness as an excuse to lean into him for support. “A walk? You mean, outside?”

He peers down at you, aspect and affect afflicted with an utter sense of soberness as square as his jawline at this proximity. “No, a walk on the moon,” he retorts.

Puffing an airy burst of laughter, a grin broadens your cheeks. “Did you just crack a joke?”

He nods, the shine of a smile again brightening his serious countenance. “Dean mentioned recently that I should try to lighten up. Was that a suitable occasion to do so?”

“Yes. And yes to the walk!” Skipping several steps backward, socked heels slipping on the tile floor, your palm reluctantly parts from the anchoring stability of his chest as you dash for the door to change out of pajamas and into the clothing you previously deemed stupid – considering you had nowhere to wear it – which was generously purloined for you by Sam and Dean from their mother’s closet. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back!” You pause at the threshold and flash him an enthusiastic parting grin before scampering down the hall.

Exhaling a contented sigh, Cas’ lashes shutter to envision the delight of your grin etched into his memory. He thinks, based on the warmth radiating from within his vessel’s chest, that your joy, too, is everlastingly emblazoned on his heart. The experience of bringing you that bit of happiness, it’s so much more meaningful than the bounds of angelic imagination permitted him to conceive; and, the angel who wants nothing for himself wants more of this exhilarating sensation.

Next: Ch. 9 - The Fable of the Fawns