IT'S FUCKING 3:11AM IDEFK
Title: WHY BENNY REALLY NEEDS A SET BETIME
Author: earth_heart
Rating: G/PG/PG-13 IDEFK
Pairing: Dean/Castiel (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
Warning: CRACK AND SHIT BEING WRITTEN AT 2:32AM AND OBVIOUS ABUSE OF CAPSLOCK
Spoilers: NOT A DAMN THING. I DON’T THINK. I’M PRETTY SURE. UNLESS YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF CAS. IF YOU HAVEN’T, I MAY JUST HAVE TO SMACK YOU WITH A MACKERAL. I’M GETTING OFF TRACK HERE.
Disclaimer: I DON’T OWN THESE GUYS. KRIPKE DOES, THE BASTARD. *angreh fayce*
Summary: YOU WILL FUCKING OBEY THE OSTRICH.
------
It starts with a nudge. Dean, who is half asleep, assumes that it is Sam. Whatever is shoving against his arm feels soft, and Sam uses all kinds of girly shit on his hands to keep them from getting callused because “GASP, DEAN, YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY AND SHIT.”
Or, y’know, whatever.
So, assuming that it is Sam, Dean grunts out an irritated, sleepy, “Fuck off, Sasquatch-Monster-Doucheface” (Dean is not at his best at ass-o’clock on a fucking Tuesda- Wednes- WHATEVER THE FUCK DAY IT IS), and slaps the thing that is supposed to be his brother’s giant, soft, wow-that-does-not-feel-like-a-hand hand.
His brother’s hand-but-totally-not-a-hand hand jerks back, and there is a soft... motherfucker, was that a whicker?
Dean has to stop and remind you all that he fucking travels all over the country, bitches. He know what a horse sounds like when it whickers, and that was totally a whicker.
Cracking one eye open, he stares at the far wall and goes very still. No sudden movements, Winchester. There is some kind of beast-that-whickers in your motel room. What do you do?
The beast-that-whickers whickered again, and Dean slowly slid a hand under his pillow. He doesn’t give a damn what he or anyone else said. Not even Sam in all of his girlish, sleepy, squirrel-on-crack-or-at-least-a-mocha ever whickered.
Dean whirled around and brought up the knife; raised it to sta-
A pair of large blue eyes blinked back at him from a large face that was definitely not Sam. Sam was not a horse. Sam was not a white horse with a silvery-golden mane and large blue eyes and Jesus Fuck was that a horn?
When confronted with this, Dean did the only (totally fucking manly, go to hell if you think otherwise) thing he could do.
He screamed like a girl.
Sam woke up in a monumental flailing of limbs and shrieking his giant lungs out as he tumbled off of the wrong side of bed and dragged all of his blankets with him. If he wasn’t too busy crossed knife-to-horn with a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING at ass-o’clock on a whatever-the-fuck-day-it-was morning, Dean would have found it hilarious.
Instead he was crossed knife-to-horn with a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING, and so you will forgive him if he is a bit distracted.
The sound of Sam wrestling out of his blankets filled the room as Dean stared the horse-beast-thing eye-to-eye and didn’t move an inch. No sudden movements, Winchester. Remember this. We mustn’t make any sudden movements.
Then Sam’s head popped up, wide-eyed and hair a wild mess of fucked-up-shit that no amount of combing could hope to untangle and tame, and he saw the horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING.
And promptly squealed like a girl, which startled Dean so badly he shouted and went flailing off of his own bed. He landed on his back between the two beds and stared up at the ceiling. Then, after a few muffled clops, there was a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING standing over him staring down at him.
Dean stared up at it.
Neither one of them blinked.
Then Sam squealed again. “OH MY GOD IT’S A UNICORN. I TOLD YOU, DEAN. I TOLD YOU THEY WERE REAL!”
Oh my God, his brother was such a fucking chick.
Then the unicorn spoke.
“Hello, Dean.”
Oh my God, that was Castiel’s voice. Coming out of a unicorn’s mouth.
Immediately Dean turned to Sam. “You spiked my fucking pie!” he shouted.
“I did not!” Sam screeched back at him, jumping up and down on his bed and completely ignoring the way it squealed and cried out feebly in protest to two-hundred-some pounds of pure muscle and six-foot-four man jumping on badly-abused springs that had seen one-too-many rough nights.
Naturally, the bed broke and crashed to the ground, and Sam slammed into Dean when he pitched forward.
They both tumbled into the unicorn, who braced himself. Sam rolled left and Dean...
Dean rolled right under the unicorn and found out that yep, that was totally a stallion right there, and holy hell he was hung. Dean was actually kind of jealous.
Then he realized he was jealous of a unicorn and immediately twisted up his face.
The unicorn swung its head around to look down at him. Blue eyes watched him intently.
“Dean, why are you under my belly?”
The best Dean could come up with was, “I know you are, but what am I?”
Castiel-the-unicorn blinked. “That does not make sense.”
“Neither does your FACE.”
Ooooooh. Burn. One point to Dean.
While he was gloating, Sam was jumping up and down again, his wild bangs flopping over his face and somehow totally not taking away from his excited rambling because of the fact that he couldn’t see half of the time.
Oh my God.
“You’re a unicorn! OH MY GOD YOU’RE A UNICORN. I THOUGHT THEY WERE EXTINCT.”
“They are.”
Sam deflated. Dean laughed. Castiel nickered softly and nudged his velvet-soft nose against Sam’s arm. He made as if to step forward, and Dean totally got the hell out of Dodge before that dinner-plate-sized hoof stepped down on his head. Also, he was still staring at a unicorn dick, which was just awkward because this unicorn was Castiel.
Standing up, he looked at the destroyed bed and mourned the loss of the money it would cost to pay for it. If Castiel left any heaping piles behind, his now-unicorn boyfriend was totally cleaning them up with his fucking trench coat.
Dean just realized that he had a unicorn for a boyfriend.
Oh my fucking God what the hell.
“Why are you a unicorn?!” he shouted, pointing at Castiel when the unicorn turned to face him. The angel-turned-oh-my-God-this-was-getting-tiring rubbed his muzzle against Dean’s finger, and he couldn’t help but stroke the soft face and listen to Castiel’s sigh of pleasure.
He suddenly wanted to stroke the horn, but that would kind of be like jacking off Castiel’s face, and holy God Dean was erasing that thought under so much porn and repressed shit RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
“My Father requested I take this form so that we may bring back the population. They died out so long ago, and they were so pure and beautiful that the world needs them. They will help heal the damage done to nature.”
“So you’re going to mate with a shit-ton of horses or something?” Castiel was going to cheat on him with horses? Kind of makes a guy feel worthless, y’know?
“Why would I mate with horses? I came here because Father has chosen you as my mate.”
“OH HELL NO YOU ARE NOT STICKING THAT THING INSIDE OF ME.”
Sam wailed in horror and fled from the room screaming about his ears or his eyes or his innocent mind. Dean hadn’t been paying attention.
“Not while you are a human, no. The size difference would cause you great harm and pain, and would possibly render you incapable of walkin-”
“Cas.”
“Yes, Dean?”
“That’s disgusting. Do not finish that sentence. Just tell me how the fuck you expect me to mate with you when you are horse and I am a man and-”
Dean suddenly knew how this was going to happen.
“Hell no!”
“Dean, please.”
“No fucking way!”
“It’s for the good of an entire species!”
“YOU ARE NOT TURNING ME INTO A FEMALE HORSE. NO FUCKING WAY, CAS. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Before Dean could retort that he so totally did have a fucking choice, there was a pop and a snap and suddenly he was staring at Castiel and the whole world was different and when he looked down he saw light-cream colored hair and hooves and-
Castiel whickered and he whinnied back angrily.
“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FUCKING MARE.”
“Actually, my Father did.”
“TURN ME BACK.”
“I cannot, Dean. We must reproduce to carry on the bloodline of the unicorns. You look so pretty...”
“I am not fucking pretty, Cas. TURN ME BACK NOW.”
“I told you, I can’t. We will mate, and you will carry the foal, and when it is born Father will make it into an adult and create a mate for it.”
Castiel was nuzzling down Dean’s side, his nose soft and warm on his flank, and it kinda felt good except for the whole part where they were HORSES.
Apparently, though, his angel-turned-here-we-go-again-unicorn didn’t care what kind of form they were in, and from the looks of it he wanted him some sex like right the fuck now.
“I will kill your Father.”
“Do not blasphemy.”
“I will blasphemy whenever the fuck I wa-ANT.”
Sam walked in.
Sam was horrified.
Sam screamed.
Security didn’t believe him.
Dean had to bail his brother out of jail, but couldn’t ‘cause he was a fucking unicorn mare.
Castiel mojo’d the phone so Dean could call Bobby, who demanded to be named Godfather before bailing Sam out of jail.
Eleven months later Dean birthed a colt with copper-brown fur and golden-silver hooves; he had Dean’s eyes. He was gorgeous.
Dean named him Lucas Jonathan Winchester, and Bobby may have cried.
Sam totally did cry big fat tears of girlish joy as he stroked the colt’s nose and cooed to him.
Chuck showed up, said he was God, and made Lucas into a big boy right in front of their eyes before turning Dean and Castiel back into their normal forms.
Dean refused to have sex with Castiel for a month, and spent that month riding around on Lucas’ back while his son galloped through the wilds of the earth and healed damage done by humans.
Castiel bought him a tiny stuffed ostrich as an apology. Dean had no clue why, but it was cute and his boyfriend had given it green eyes.
They had sex on Bobby’s couch that night.
Dean made Castiel swear there would be no more unicorn babies.
He slept with the ostrich on his nightstand every night after that.
Author: earth_heart
Rating: G/PG/PG-13 IDEFK
Pairing: Dean/Castiel (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
Warning: CRACK AND SHIT BEING WRITTEN AT 2:32AM AND OBVIOUS ABUSE OF CAPSLOCK
Spoilers: NOT A DAMN THING. I DON’T THINK. I’M PRETTY SURE. UNLESS YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF CAS. IF YOU HAVEN’T, I MAY JUST HAVE TO SMACK YOU WITH A MACKERAL. I’M GETTING OFF TRACK HERE.
Disclaimer: I DON’T OWN THESE GUYS. KRIPKE DOES, THE BASTARD. *angreh fayce*
Summary: YOU WILL FUCKING OBEY THE OSTRICH.
------
It starts with a nudge. Dean, who is half asleep, assumes that it is Sam. Whatever is shoving against his arm feels soft, and Sam uses all kinds of girly shit on his hands to keep them from getting callused because “GASP, DEAN, YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY AND SHIT.”
Or, y’know, whatever.
So, assuming that it is Sam, Dean grunts out an irritated, sleepy, “Fuck off, Sasquatch-Monster-Doucheface” (Dean is not at his best at ass-o’clock on a fucking Tuesda- Wednes- WHATEVER THE FUCK DAY IT IS), and slaps the thing that is supposed to be his brother’s giant, soft, wow-that-does-not-feel-like-a-hand hand.
His brother’s hand-but-totally-not-a-hand hand jerks back, and there is a soft... motherfucker, was that a whicker?
Dean has to stop and remind you all that he fucking travels all over the country, bitches. He know what a horse sounds like when it whickers, and that was totally a whicker.
Cracking one eye open, he stares at the far wall and goes very still. No sudden movements, Winchester. There is some kind of beast-that-whickers in your motel room. What do you do?
The beast-that-whickers whickered again, and Dean slowly slid a hand under his pillow. He doesn’t give a damn what he or anyone else said. Not even Sam in all of his girlish, sleepy, squirrel-on-crack-or-at-least-a-mocha ever whickered.
Dean whirled around and brought up the knife; raised it to sta-
A pair of large blue eyes blinked back at him from a large face that was definitely not Sam. Sam was not a horse. Sam was not a white horse with a silvery-golden mane and large blue eyes and Jesus Fuck was that a horn?
When confronted with this, Dean did the only (totally fucking manly, go to hell if you think otherwise) thing he could do.
He screamed like a girl.
Sam woke up in a monumental flailing of limbs and shrieking his giant lungs out as he tumbled off of the wrong side of bed and dragged all of his blankets with him. If he wasn’t too busy crossed knife-to-horn with a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING at ass-o’clock on a whatever-the-fuck-day-it-was morning, Dean would have found it hilarious.
Instead he was crossed knife-to-horn with a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING, and so you will forgive him if he is a bit distracted.
The sound of Sam wrestling out of his blankets filled the room as Dean stared the horse-beast-thing eye-to-eye and didn’t move an inch. No sudden movements, Winchester. Remember this. We mustn’t make any sudden movements.
Then Sam’s head popped up, wide-eyed and hair a wild mess of fucked-up-shit that no amount of combing could hope to untangle and tame, and he saw the horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING.
And promptly squealed like a girl, which startled Dean so badly he shouted and went flailing off of his own bed. He landed on his back between the two beds and stared up at the ceiling. Then, after a few muffled clops, there was a horse-whickering-beast-fucking-THING standing over him staring down at him.
Dean stared up at it.
Neither one of them blinked.
Then Sam squealed again. “OH MY GOD IT’S A UNICORN. I TOLD YOU, DEAN. I TOLD YOU THEY WERE REAL!”
Oh my God, his brother was such a fucking chick.
Then the unicorn spoke.
“Hello, Dean.”
Oh my God, that was Castiel’s voice. Coming out of a unicorn’s mouth.
Immediately Dean turned to Sam. “You spiked my fucking pie!” he shouted.
“I did not!” Sam screeched back at him, jumping up and down on his bed and completely ignoring the way it squealed and cried out feebly in protest to two-hundred-some pounds of pure muscle and six-foot-four man jumping on badly-abused springs that had seen one-too-many rough nights.
Naturally, the bed broke and crashed to the ground, and Sam slammed into Dean when he pitched forward.
They both tumbled into the unicorn, who braced himself. Sam rolled left and Dean...
Dean rolled right under the unicorn and found out that yep, that was totally a stallion right there, and holy hell he was hung. Dean was actually kind of jealous.
Then he realized he was jealous of a unicorn and immediately twisted up his face.
The unicorn swung its head around to look down at him. Blue eyes watched him intently.
“Dean, why are you under my belly?”
The best Dean could come up with was, “I know you are, but what am I?”
Castiel-the-unicorn blinked. “That does not make sense.”
“Neither does your FACE.”
Ooooooh. Burn. One point to Dean.
While he was gloating, Sam was jumping up and down again, his wild bangs flopping over his face and somehow totally not taking away from his excited rambling because of the fact that he couldn’t see half of the time.
Oh my God.
“You’re a unicorn! OH MY GOD YOU’RE A UNICORN. I THOUGHT THEY WERE EXTINCT.”
“They are.”
Sam deflated. Dean laughed. Castiel nickered softly and nudged his velvet-soft nose against Sam’s arm. He made as if to step forward, and Dean totally got the hell out of Dodge before that dinner-plate-sized hoof stepped down on his head. Also, he was still staring at a unicorn dick, which was just awkward because this unicorn was Castiel.
Standing up, he looked at the destroyed bed and mourned the loss of the money it would cost to pay for it. If Castiel left any heaping piles behind, his now-unicorn boyfriend was totally cleaning them up with his fucking trench coat.
Dean just realized that he had a unicorn for a boyfriend.
Oh my fucking God what the hell.
“Why are you a unicorn?!” he shouted, pointing at Castiel when the unicorn turned to face him. The angel-turned-oh-my-God-this-was-getting-tiring rubbed his muzzle against Dean’s finger, and he couldn’t help but stroke the soft face and listen to Castiel’s sigh of pleasure.
He suddenly wanted to stroke the horn, but that would kind of be like jacking off Castiel’s face, and holy God Dean was erasing that thought under so much porn and repressed shit RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
“My Father requested I take this form so that we may bring back the population. They died out so long ago, and they were so pure and beautiful that the world needs them. They will help heal the damage done to nature.”
“So you’re going to mate with a shit-ton of horses or something?” Castiel was going to cheat on him with horses? Kind of makes a guy feel worthless, y’know?
“Why would I mate with horses? I came here because Father has chosen you as my mate.”
“OH HELL NO YOU ARE NOT STICKING THAT THING INSIDE OF ME.”
Sam wailed in horror and fled from the room screaming about his ears or his eyes or his innocent mind. Dean hadn’t been paying attention.
“Not while you are a human, no. The size difference would cause you great harm and pain, and would possibly render you incapable of walkin-”
“Cas.”
“Yes, Dean?”
“That’s disgusting. Do not finish that sentence. Just tell me how the fuck you expect me to mate with you when you are horse and I am a man and-”
Dean suddenly knew how this was going to happen.
“Hell no!”
“Dean, please.”
“No fucking way!”
“It’s for the good of an entire species!”
“YOU ARE NOT TURNING ME INTO A FEMALE HORSE. NO FUCKING WAY, CAS. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Before Dean could retort that he so totally did have a fucking choice, there was a pop and a snap and suddenly he was staring at Castiel and the whole world was different and when he looked down he saw light-cream colored hair and hooves and-
Castiel whickered and he whinnied back angrily.
“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FUCKING MARE.”
“Actually, my Father did.”
“TURN ME BACK.”
“I cannot, Dean. We must reproduce to carry on the bloodline of the unicorns. You look so pretty...”
“I am not fucking pretty, Cas. TURN ME BACK NOW.”
“I told you, I can’t. We will mate, and you will carry the foal, and when it is born Father will make it into an adult and create a mate for it.”
Castiel was nuzzling down Dean’s side, his nose soft and warm on his flank, and it kinda felt good except for the whole part where they were HORSES.
Apparently, though, his angel-turned-here-we-go-again-unicorn didn’t care what kind of form they were in, and from the looks of it he wanted him some sex like right the fuck now.
“I will kill your Father.”
“Do not blasphemy.”
“I will blasphemy whenever the fuck I wa-ANT.”
Sam walked in.
Sam was horrified.
Sam screamed.
Security didn’t believe him.
Dean had to bail his brother out of jail, but couldn’t ‘cause he was a fucking unicorn mare.
Castiel mojo’d the phone so Dean could call Bobby, who demanded to be named Godfather before bailing Sam out of jail.
Eleven months later Dean birthed a colt with copper-brown fur and golden-silver hooves; he had Dean’s eyes. He was gorgeous.
Dean named him Lucas Jonathan Winchester, and Bobby may have cried.
Sam totally did cry big fat tears of girlish joy as he stroked the colt’s nose and cooed to him.
Chuck showed up, said he was God, and made Lucas into a big boy right in front of their eyes before turning Dean and Castiel back into their normal forms.
Dean refused to have sex with Castiel for a month, and spent that month riding around on Lucas’ back while his son galloped through the wilds of the earth and healed damage done by humans.
Castiel bought him a tiny stuffed ostrich as an apology. Dean had no clue why, but it was cute and his boyfriend had given it green eyes.
They had sex on Bobby’s couch that night.
Dean made Castiel swear there would be no more unicorn babies.
He slept with the ostrich on his nightstand every night after that.