A few hours of restless sleep granted you with a pounding migraine. Pulling yourself out of bed you fumbled through your pockets for the prescription the doctor gave you. You made a mental note to pick up the Rizatriptan later then headed out to find the others. Castiel and Dean were in the library watching a movie on Dean's laptop, something Western based on the gunshots and cowboy lingo. Cas' eyes were vacant with disinterest but continued to watch loyally until he noticed you enter the room at which point his expression lit up with delight and he waved you over. He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your torso, nuzzling his face into your back. Dean groaned, pausing the film as it lost Castiel's attention. Cas asked how you were feeling and you replied with 'better,' then mentioned the prescription you had to go pick up.
'I'll take you,' Dean offered, 'we need to get groceries too'.
'How's Sam?' you asked, leaning back into Cas who answered you.
'Sleeping in. I healed him so don't worry'. You realised you needed him to fix you up too, but he must've seen the look of remembering on your face because he said, 'I healed your head injury after you fell asleep, you don't have to worry about it anymore either,' and you settled back into his embrace. Saying his name must've summoned him to the room because Sammy groggily stumbled into the library, his hair wildly disheveled and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He gave the three of you a gruff 'good morning' as he shuffled through the room. You watched as he left to the kitchen at which point Dean jumped up and chased you out of the bunker, speaking too loudly and aggravating your headache. When he noticed you massaging your temples with closed eyes he lowered his voice and even the music that he had put on. He was unusually chatty on the drive, while he walked you to the pharmacist and as you strolled around the supermarket.
'Remember that casserole you made for Thanksgiving?' he casually asked, picking up a packet of grated cheese. You nodded, approaching him with the shopping trolley so he could chuck it in, 'from like 2 years ago?' you replied. 'Yeah. Can you make it again? I'll help,' he flashed you his sweetest puppy eyes, a ploy you had become immune to over the years, though you agreed complacently and together you hunted down the ingredients you needed. When you asked why he suddenly wanted your cooking he said, 'you used to cook loads. I miss your food,' with a wide grin.
Dean dumped the grocery bags into the back of the Impala, leaving the door open for you to drop your bags too. You leaned in, shoving the bags up the seats, when you noticed the toy car from the arcade on the floor. The box was crushed, probably by Sam when Dean threw him into the car, and there were a few smears of blood on it too. You picked it up and took it with you to the front seat. Grieving the unfortunate turn of events of an otherwise fun family night out you fell silent again, the car's symbolic nature solidifying your intent to leave. Dean picked up on your depressed mood and took the toy from you. 'That's where it was!' he said joyously, rotating it as he inspected the dents, 'I was gonna take it out of the box anyway,' he tucked it into his jacket pocket and smiled at you, thanking you again for getting it for him then starting the drive back home.
Cas called out to you when he heard the heavy slam of the door and you joined him and Sam in the kitchen. With a kiss on the lips he started doting on you, taking the shopping bags from you, pouring you a cup of coffee, asking what you wanted for breakfast and leaving a kiss on your cheek every time he passed you. It was an embarrassing form of affection but you lavished in it. He was your inclination to stay and because of this you were conflicted. Ideally you would distance yourself from him, the brothers too, but you wanted to enjoy the time you had together, not abandon them with bitterness and resentment after you ran away.
'You guys up for Family Game Night?' Sam said, peering into the fridge and assessing what you bought, confused by the assortment of fresh ingredients rather than instant meals.
'We're down right Y/n?' Dean elbowed you and you agreed on cue. 'After we finish cooking,' he added, to Sam's surprise.
'You're cooking, Dean?' the younger brother sneered, 'was the store out of dogfood?'
Dean delivered a sharp kick to Sam's shin, 'Y/n's making casserole and I'm helping asshole,' he spat back and you had to pull them apart as they squared up against each other. Dean proposed to start cooking now with the intention of finishing in time for dinner and when Castiel offered to help, Sam also felt inclined to offer his aid. You set up stations for each of them and distributed knives and vegetables among them, instructing them to start chopping. Despite having to diffuse the outbreak of a mild flour-throwing dispute between the Winchesters, the dish was in the oven within the hour. Dean beamed proudly, drying the dishes as his brother washed them. He refused to leave the casserole unattended, wandering over to the oven and peering through the glass every 15 minutes or so until the timer went off and he practically dove into the oven to get it out. You fetched the plates from under the kitchen island, all cheap ceramic and mismatched designs, and Dean served portions to you all, even Cas. He was especially generous with his own serving then shepherded everyone out of the kitchen and to the war room, stopping in the library to get some board games out of a cupboard.
The casserole was delicious and the two bulky brothers ravaged their plates, with compliments to the chef. Cas insisted your cooking was so good even he could taste it and also finished his helping. After a game of Monopoly, Dean decided it was time to crack into some beers, though to his dismay there were none and he dragged Sam out on a quick supply run, leaving you and Cas in the stagnant heart of the bunker.
You started to collect the dishes, Cas' dark eyes stalking your movements hungrily. He followed you to the kitchen quietly, as if he was hunting you. As you cleaned the dishes you could feel the heat of his body as he crept up behind you. He brushed the hair away from your neck, gripping the locks of hair gently in his fist he pulled your head to the side slightly to expose the skin of your neck, the delicate easy-to-brandish skin. With taunting deliberateness he nipped at the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking until you felt the defiling sting of a bruise surfacing, at which point he'd tenderly soothe the spot with his tongue, leaving wet purple marks up towards your jaw.
'And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love,' the Angel mumbled into your ear, his hot tickling breath sending electricity to your spine and goosebumps erupted along your arms.
Knees ready to give in, you reached over your head to weave your fingers into his hair to hold yourself steady as his hand came to rest on your inner thigh, squeezing and massaging the plumpness there but not drawing any closer to the radiating heat inches away. His lips now on your mouth, you spun around to be chest to chest with him, running your hands down him towards his crotch. Cas smiled into the kiss as you palmed his hardness through the fabric. Starting to lead you out of the kitchen with his tongue still entangled with yours, you stumbled down the hall towards your room. You fell onto the bed as two bodies lustfully tangled together, wrestling on the mattress for a brief moment as you fought Castiel down to submission. He conceded but his hands and lips continued their divine work, pulling off your shirt and kissing you obsessively and you straddled him, grinding against his growing bulge and watched his composure slip away. You lifted yourself off him briefly to shed the rest of his and your clothes but he seized the moment to flip you onto the mattress. You struggled against him, trying to get back on top but he pinned you down adamantly, lowering his face back into the crook of your neck, his favourite spot. He nestled his throbbing cock against your folds. Eyes eclipsed with desire, the firm grasp on your wrists contradicted the patient gentle rock of his hips as he slicked himself with your wetness, adoration syruping his gravely voice.
'Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good,' he preached breathlessly, his speech punctuated by messy stolen kisses. 'Y/n, you are good. You are so good and I want to be good to you. Let me be good to you,' he crooned.
'I'm not good Castiel. I'm just a person. I'm just me,' you whispered back and he shook his head.
'You're mine and I am yours,' his fingers trailed up your wrist and into your palm, holding your hand as he pushed himself into you, his head falling back into your neck as he let you adjust to the stretch before easing into a rhythmic pace. He picked up speed with each thrust becoming more purposeful than the last, whimpers escaping your lips as the pressure in your abdomen became insuppressible until you were loudly and uncontrollably moaning his name. He panted against your mouth, slamming into you mercilessly, the room filling with the sound of bare skin against bare skin and deviant cries of sin. His thick shaft pushed into you completely to the base, the feeling of fulness so fleeting as he fucked you harder than anyone ever had until you were teetering on the edge,
'Castiel...' you barely managed to sound out, 'You're gonna make me...'
'I know,' he hushed you with his lips on yours, a hand leaving yours and sliding down between your bodies where it teased your clit. You wrapped your legs around him and with the final thrust that sent you spiraling you locked him into you, clenching around him with muscular spasms. Your body writhed as he worked you down from your orgasm, teasing you with his fingers as they briefly overstimulated you, making you convulse until he relinquished the torment. When you were ready he started thrusting again, lubricated by your cum and gliding in and out of you faster than before, hitting deeper inside you, grunting like an animal into your ear. When his rhythm started to falter you tugged at his hair, pulling his mouth to yours.
'Come in me Cas,' you commanded, and he whimpered your name as his hot semen splurted into you, filling you beautifully. With his last few sloppy pumps you could feel him coating your walls and a little cum oozed out of you, running down between your ass cheeks and pooling on your bedsheets. He collapsed next to you, seizing you in his arms and holding you tightly to his chest, his thigh slipping in between yours and his hands running through your hair. You snaked your arms around his torso and up his back, drawing patterns on the sweat-dewed skin between his shoulder blades and he hummed appreciatively.
'I thought you didn't sweat under any circumstances,' you remarked.
'You're the exception'.
You shut your eyes and lay together until the distant slam of a heavy metal door woke you up, though Cas did not let you go.
'I need to clean up,' you blushed, still feeling the wetness of his defilement between your legs, and you sat up.
'I'll help,' he purred, kissing your shoulders then followed you into the shower, his arms around your waist and matching each of your steps onto the tiled flooring. The hot water rained on you and your angel, who dragged a soapy sponge across your body. He kneeled in front of you, dragging the sponge up your leg and inner thigh, water splashing down onto him. He looked so good in front of you, peppering kisses along your supple skin, dark wet hair fallen onto his face. You lifted his chin up and brushed your palm down his face so he'd close his eyes. You squirted a little shampoo onto your hands, massaging it into his hair, working up a sweet-smelling lather as he wound his arms around your pelvis pulling you into him. He kissed your stomach, and you had to tilt his head back up a few times as he kept lowering his face to kiss you further down. You rinsed the shampoo from his hair and swept the water from his face just as a knock came to your door.
'Y/n we're back!' came Dean's voice but your voice was caught in your throat as you stared down at the bewitching man kneeling before you, gazing up at you in worship and devotion, and you thought to yourself I can never be strong enough to leave him.
'We'll be right out Dean!' Cas called back as he stood to his full height, looming over you, entranced in a daze with you, which another sequence of booming knocks on the door snapped him out of.
'Alright you crazy kids. Be quick, Sammy wants to finish the Twilight Saga!' he yelled back, obviously loud enough to taunt his brother too.
'I am millions of years old,' Cas grumbled, pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around you, then took another one and used it to squeeze the water out of your hair, escorting you back to your room where you put on some comfortable clothes while he dried off. You tossed him a t-shirt and sweatpants stolen from Dean a long time ago so he could get changed into something fresh too.
'Sleep in my bed tonight,' he uttered into your ear and you giggled with a nod. He extended an arm over your shoulders and you made your way out to the hall where the brothers were waiting, leaning against the wall and sipping from glass bottles.
'They can't keep their hands off each other!' Sam cheered and Dean chuckled, pulled a beer from the carboard carrier and passed it to you, offering one to Cas who politely refused. You followed Dean's lead to his room and sat on the bed with Cas, making yourself at home instantly though neither brother was having it, with the younger one shoving himself in between you two. He grinned sheepishly at you, a bit of gum between his incisors then turned to Cas and chewed obnoxiously as if challenging Cas to complain, who yielded and slumped into the backboard. Dean put the movie on, with no issue from Sam, making you think they both equally wanted to watch Twilight though you made no comment.
You remembered the drinking games you played in college while watching this film, like whenever Bella bit her lip or someone takes their shirt off, and you accidentally laughed out loud when you recalled how shitfaced you and your friends got. Everyone looked at you and you quickly explained. Dean loved it and almost demanded to play, so you scribbled down every rule you could remember on a piece of paper while Dean retrieved every bottle of alcohol from the kitchen, and because of that inconspicuous decision the rest of the night was a drunken blur.