My name is Marissa, and I'm a 29 year old underemployed law school grad from Canada. This is a place for me to deal with my Supernatural/Castiel/Destiel obsession. Other things that I am a fan of will occasionally be found here as well: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Harry Potter, The Avengers movie, Castle, Elementary, and Les Miserables. I also ship Megstiel a little.
If you disagree with me about something please feel free to comment on my posts or message me without feeling like you're picking a fight. I'd like to talk to people who disagree with me more.
I also have a feminist/social justice blog at hystericalmarissa.tumblr.com
I'm on fanfiction.net as dollsom. If you're curious about my old buffy-centric livejournal, my lj name was blueanddollsome.
schroedingerscas replied to your post: My current #1 scenario for Dean/Cas happening..
i think “does this change things?” would be Cas’ main concern and why he could possibly just freeze on the spot and not know what to do. or maybe he’d go Caged Heat and THEN wonder if this changes things ;)
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Dean kisses Castiel. And it’s going pretty well. At least, Cas doesn’t freeze up or zap away.
Next thing he knows, Dean’s pinned against the car, Cas’ hands in his hair, and his tongue down his throat. Dean’s knees feel wobbly and he’s 90% - okay, maybe 80% - sure that it’s not due to the alcohol.
Cas breaks off the kiss and fixes Dean with a searching gaze.
“What are your intentions?” he asks.
“Right now?” Dean replies, out of breath, “To do that again.”
thinking about writing my alternate season 7 again. I wrote some dialogue between Dean and Levia!Cas and that was fun. But ploting is hard. I decided that I’d have to have Hester show up at some point. Mostly to deliver exposition, not to do anything terribly exciting.
Dean collapses face-first onto his mattress, sinking into the memory foam as he sinks into sleep, fading seamlessly from consciousness into a dream-state.
The softness of the pillow feels real. The desk lamp that he hadn’t bothered to turn off, glowing gold behind his eyelids, feels real. And then, Castiel’s presence feels real.
Dean doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t even move, but he knows the angel is there. His sense is confirmed when he feels Castiel’s breath on his neck. Dean feels Cas lay his body over him, covering him, warm skin against skin (though Dean was clothed when he fell asleep). Castiel’s hands find his, and Dean draws them to his lips.
“I’m here,” Castiel says in his ear, voice low and reassuring.
“Don’t leave me,” Dean says.
“I won’t.”
Dean feels Castiel’s cock, hard against his ass. And then he feels as Cas pushes into him, acheingly slow. Dean is consumed by heat, from his core to the sweat beading on his skin. He’s consumed by Cas, in him and around him. His eyes shut tight, Dean presses his forehead against the mattress, and grips Castiel’s hands hard enough to bruise.
“Stay, stay, please stay,” Dean mutters, voice rough and strained, as Castiel moves inside him, lips hot and wet on Dean’s neck, whispering Dean’s name like it means, “I will.”
When Dean wakes, it’s to sweat-soaked sheets and a stain on the front of his boxer-briefs. He can’t remember how the dream ended. He tries to forget that it happened at all.
The next time he sees Cas, Dean shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot and doesn’t look his friend in the eye.
“Do any dreamwalking lately?” he blurts out awkwardly.
Cas looks bemused. “No.”
Dean ignores the question in his tone, and nods, “Good.”
They were on their way down to the crypt by the time Dean worked up the nerve to address the hulking elephant between him and Cas.
“So now you know we’re worried about you.”
“Dean-” Cas tried to interrupt with an exasperated sigh, but Dean was determined to talk about this.
“No, something weird is going on here.” Dean glanced away from the stone steps they were slowly making their way down to look at his friend. “You gotta know something, man.”
“All I know is that I’ve been doing my best-“
“To help. Make amends, and all that. Okay.” If Cas really didn’t know what was going on, Dean would have to accept it. That wasn’t all that was bothering him, though.
“But you know you don’t have to do it on your own, right?”
At that, Cas stopped and turned to Dean, a mix of saddness and affection on his face. Dean looked him in the eye.
“I’m here for you if you need me. You know that, don’t you?”
The hint of a melancholy smile played across Cas’ lips.
“I know.”
Dean held his gaze a moment longer, and then started back down the steps.
“Dean, I wanted to come to you when I heard your prayers. But I… I couldn’t.”
“You were busy, I get it.”
“No,” There was a note of realization in Cas’ voice, and of fear. “I just couldn’t.”
Cas had come to a halt several steps above Dean, and Dean stopped to look back at him. As he watched, Cas’ expression became stony, his eyes glazed over. His voice was cold and mechanical when he spoke again.
“We should focus on the misson.”
Cas continued down the stairs, Dean staring after him.
