sam-winchester-cries-during-sex:

deanlorean:

assbuttsunited:

#can someone write an au #where cas is a guardian angel#and he gets assigned to dean #after being assigned to children for hundreds of years #and he follows dean around with a box of hello kitty bandaids

“Well, these here have Buzz Lightyear on them. And these, these ones have Hello Kitty. You can pick whichever one you want.”

Dean stared, clutching at his side and breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his neck. “Cas, dude. I don’t need Band-Aids. I need some angel mojo, pronto.”

The angel furrowed his brow. “This is common procedure. You have an injury, you get your pick of Band-Aids. It’s protocol.”

He held out the two boxes, voice deep and menacing as his eyes stared into Deans. “Now you pick: Buzz Lightyear or Hello Kitty. I won’t ask again.”

Dean ground his teeth, removing his hand from his side to see it dripping in blood. He shuddered and reapplied the pressure, exhaling loudly and wiping his forehead, leaving four long lines of red across his face.

“Look, Cas,” he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible through clenched teeth, “I know you’re a bit new at this, but have you ever been a guardian angel before?”

Cas frowned and stared back through tightened eyebrows. “I was previously assigned to children between the ages of three and six. My superiors relocated me on the basis of… aptitude.”

His frown deepened. Dean chose not to press the subject, as he was beginning to see dark stars dance in front of his eyes.

“Okay Cas. In the adult world, injuries are generally a little bit more pressing than what a Band-Aid would warrant.” He spoke as gently as he could, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. “I’m going to need you to angel me up some healing power for this gash wound right here in my side. Do you see it?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, I see it, Dean.”

“Do you think you can fix it?”

Cas stared intently at Dean’s side, then gently grasped his hand, now soaked with blood, and removed it, replacing it with his own. In a flash of white light, the slash was gone and Dean let out a sigh of relief. Picking himself up, he grabbed Cas’s hand and hauled him up off the floor.

“Great, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He snapped, turning away and gingerly feeling his stomach for residual effects.

“Dean, you’ve forgotten something.”

Dean turned warily.

“Would you like a strawberry or lemon lollipop?”

I AM CRYING RIGHT NOW, OMFG.

Dean’s eyes clouded over a little, and he turned back to meet the Angel’s wary gaze. He pursed his lips, agonising the movement, before opening his mouth to speak. His gravelly tone filled the empty warehouse, deep and quiet, echoing around the cold cement and tin.

“Lemon.”