Archangel!Jensen- Chapter 8 {Epilogue}
Title: The One That Leads Us Forth
Author: earth_heart
Chapter: 8
Rating: R
Pairing: Castiel/Jensen
Warnings: Jensen in the Supernatural world; collared!Jensen, dominant!aggressive!Castiel, submissive!Jensen
Spoilers: Goes AU after 5.22
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
Summary: For namikazekamui
Jensen gets thrown into the Supernatural world. That’s not even the craziest part of this whole thing.
------
Epilogue:
In the year since coming to this world, Misha had fit in incredibly well. Then again, that wasn’t anything surprising, considering the kind of personality and open mind he had. Besides, in this world there were plenty of people willing to be his minions, and he even had God’s go-ahead to plan his little heart out.
Crowley was dead, the Alphas were safe, and Jared, who had decided to go back home to be with his wife, visited all the time. Jensen was happy and flying the skies with his mate, and his friend had even borne a child thanks to the fact that both he and Castiel were mates.
Not to mention the fact that now Jensen and Misha went on hunts with the Winchester brothers. Who knew Misha would have ended up being such a good hunter? He even managed to tweet a witch to death.
(Okay, so he hadn’t actually done that, but she’d been one of his minions and he’d just stood outside and tweeted non-stop. It distracted her enough that Dean had shot her. So yeah. Tweeted her into her death; same thing.)
Then there was Dean. The arrogant, headstrong hunter was far too appealing for his own good, and his reputation was solid in every way. Women practically threw themselves at him wherever their little band went, though Misha and Castiel got their own fair share of admirers because of their own looks and how handsome they were. Jensen wasn’t left alone either, but there’s only so many ways one could take a grown man wearing a collar, and none of them were ‘Hey, look at me, I’m available!’
Of course, Castiel was always more than willing to help teach any who didn’t get the message that Jensen was not up for grabs. They’d been thrown out of quite a few bars, much to Misha’s amusement and Dean’s mortification.
Bartenders don’t like angels having sex on their bar tables. What spoil-sports.
They’d all become incredibly close, though, and Misha had charmed Dean easily. He’d started out just annoying the hunter, but soon enough they’d become very good friends. Misha, of course, made it more, and Dean was more than willing after enough persuasion.
Here they were now, Dean sprawled across the bed and sleeping soundly while Misha, who had always been an early riser, watched him. It was early morning, and the sun was up, so it was easy to see how the light made the older Winchester’s skin glow. There were so many similarities between Dean and Jensen, but in the end they were completely separate, and there were tiny differences between their features. Misha liked that, because if they’d just been carbon copies it never would have been as much fun.
Leaning over, Misha rubbed his nose against the brand on Dean’s shoulder. He loved to touch it, and it was a perfect fit to his hand; that was awesome, and he never let an opportunity pass to touch it.
“That tickles.”
Misha chuckled and bit down on the tiny burn that was the thumb, listening to Dean’s sharp hiss before he pulled back. The man rolled over to stare up at him with forest-green eyes still foggy with sleep. When they light struck them, Misha took some time to count the shale-colored flecks because it was fun to do, and they were never in the same place twice.
Dean was obviously waiting for a good morning kiss, and Misha knew that. It was why he was deliberately not giving one, because he liked to see how long his fiery lover could last before getting impatient. Sure enough, only a few moments later Dean growled in frustration and slid his fingers into Misha’s hair; fisting a clump and jerking him down into a sloppy, deep kiss.
Taking control of it easily, Misha flicked his tongue across the top of Dean’s before tracing random patterns across the roof of his lover’s mouth. He drank down Dean’s moan and let out a pleased hum. One of the things he loved most was how responsive Dean was. It was always a battle of wills between them, but that made it half the fun. Misha never knew who was going to top at night, because they always fought over it.
He usually won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love the thrill of losing to Dean just as much. Misha was flexible like that. Right now, though, he was awake and Dean was still struggling to wake up, so he straddled the hunter’s thighs and ground their hips together. Dean was wearing his boxers and an old, ratty Metallica t-shirt; it felt fantastic against Misha’s bare skin, because he really didn’t like to sleep in clothing.
The man groaned into his mouth, long and low. In reward, Misha pulled down Dean’s boxers enough so that he could curl his hand around the head of their dicks and jack them off together. Lazy morning sex was all well and good, but they were currently at Bobby’s house, and there was a strong possibility of anyone walking in at any second.
Pleasure sparked through him with every pump of his hand, and he let out a soft sigh; felt Dean’s cock pulse, hot and throbbing, in his hand as their pre-cum mixed and slicked the way so they could thrust against one another. Dean came first with a soft, bitten-back growl, and after one last buck of his hips Misha came as well.
They had just enough time to roll apart before the door slammed open with all of the force that any fledgling angel excited to see his uncles possessed; which, of course, meant that it slammed open so hard that the doorknob punched a hole in the wall and proceeded to get stuck there.
“Uncle Misha! Uncle Dean! ‘S time t’ get uuuup!”
Misha slid discreetly beneath the blankets to hide his naked state while he groped around under the covers for the pajama bottoms he always hid at the foot just in case. Daniel Jared Ackles had not yet learned the art of knocking before opening a door, so Misha had gotten very good with the whole ‘just in case’ thing.
“We are uuuup, squirt,” Dean replied, boxers already fixed and his expression much more forgiving since the morning quickie. He rolled out of bed and left Misha to wiggle into his pants while the hunter walked out of the room and down the hall, Danny fluttering along after him. The tiny angel had three tiny pairs of wings, all of them too small to carry him in flight yet but developed enough to flutter and flap in the most adorable of ways.
The fact that they could see Danny’s wings was surprising enough, but apparently fledglings couldn’t hide them very well. At least that’s what Castiel had said. That, and God had a sense of humor. It explained why Danny was only technically three months old and already looked five, too.
Misha crawled out of bed just as Jensen walked in. His friend was grinning, so Misha made a face at the Archangel and flipped him off. Against his will, his finger curled back down.
“Watch it,” Jensen warned playfully, “there’s a kid in the house.”
“Yeah, your brat,” Misha shot back playfully, ducking under the angel’s arm and following the squeals of a happy child down the hallway. Dean had already washed his face by the time Misha elbowed him away from the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth. They were both going to need a shower, too, since drying cum really wasn’t the greatest feeling to have on one’s skin, but it was hard to do that with a child bouncing up and down in the doorway.
Jensen swooped into the rescue, though; scooped up the boy and nuzzled against his little freckled nose. Danny shrieked in glee and promptly broke the mirror. Dean and Misha jumped back to avoid the shards, but Jensen just blinked and suddenly it was like it never happened.
“That is clearly an abuse of your God-given powers!” Misha declared dramatically, pointing at his friend. The angel laughed and Dean snorted. His lover grabbed him and hauled him bodily into the shower, giving Jensen a pointed look. The Archangel made himself scarce and took Danny with him.
After a very nice, very hot, very long shower shared with Dean in which things may or may not have happened, both of them got dressed and Dean let Misha lead the way downstairs. Castiel was staring at them reproachfully from the breakfast table. Oh, right. Just because Danny didn’t have control of his powers didn’t mean that the other two angels didn’t.
Misha just smiled sweetly and arched an eyebrow at the angel. When Danny wasn’t looking he mouthed at least we’re not as loud as you and Castiel looked down. It was true, too. When Jensen and Castiel were going at it (which they did like rabbits, let Misha just point out), half the time it sounded like the house was going to blow apart. Bobby had finally made a rule that there would be no angel-loving going on under his roof after the fourth time the windows blew out, only to magically fix themselves.
Danny threw himself at Misha, and he caught the child easily and swung him up to sit the boy on his hip. He tickled the fledgling’s ear and smiled at his excited giggle before sitting down at the table and letting Danny settle himself on his lap. Dean sat down in the nearest chair and looked expectantly towards the stove, where Sam was busy making food.
“Any day now, Sasquatch!” he called playfully, and laughed when his brother huffed at him. Misha shook his head and shared a grin with Danny, who wiggled his wings against Misha’s chest in a way that made the hunter squirm and bite back laughter.
“So, anything of interest in the papers?” he asked, settling Danny with a hand in the boy’s light brown hair. Wide blue eyes looked up at him, and Misha was again drawn to the green that circled Danny’s pupils. It was hard to come by eyes that looked like that, and little Danny had his angel parents to thank for it.
“Just your regular salt ‘n’ burn jobs,” Sam replied distractedly, trying not to burn the bacon on Bobby’s temperamental stove. “There was something that sounded like it could be a werewolf; give it a look and see what you think.”
Misha snatched up the paper before Dean could grab it, and when his lover glared at him both he and Danny stuck their tongues out. Dean glared back at them, but when Misha waggled his eyebrows he couldn’t help but grin.
Victory to Misha, then, and he settled down to read the paper with Danny.
Author: earth_heart
Chapter: 8
Rating: R
Pairing: Castiel/Jensen
Warnings: Jensen in the Supernatural world; collared!Jensen, dominant!aggressive!Castiel, submissive!Jensen
Spoilers: Goes AU after 5.22
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
Summary: For namikazekamui
Jensen gets thrown into the Supernatural world. That’s not even the craziest part of this whole thing.
------
Epilogue:
In the year since coming to this world, Misha had fit in incredibly well. Then again, that wasn’t anything surprising, considering the kind of personality and open mind he had. Besides, in this world there were plenty of people willing to be his minions, and he even had God’s go-ahead to plan his little heart out.
Crowley was dead, the Alphas were safe, and Jared, who had decided to go back home to be with his wife, visited all the time. Jensen was happy and flying the skies with his mate, and his friend had even borne a child thanks to the fact that both he and Castiel were mates.
Not to mention the fact that now Jensen and Misha went on hunts with the Winchester brothers. Who knew Misha would have ended up being such a good hunter? He even managed to tweet a witch to death.
(Okay, so he hadn’t actually done that, but she’d been one of his minions and he’d just stood outside and tweeted non-stop. It distracted her enough that Dean had shot her. So yeah. Tweeted her into her death; same thing.)
Then there was Dean. The arrogant, headstrong hunter was far too appealing for his own good, and his reputation was solid in every way. Women practically threw themselves at him wherever their little band went, though Misha and Castiel got their own fair share of admirers because of their own looks and how handsome they were. Jensen wasn’t left alone either, but there’s only so many ways one could take a grown man wearing a collar, and none of them were ‘Hey, look at me, I’m available!’
Of course, Castiel was always more than willing to help teach any who didn’t get the message that Jensen was not up for grabs. They’d been thrown out of quite a few bars, much to Misha’s amusement and Dean’s mortification.
Bartenders don’t like angels having sex on their bar tables. What spoil-sports.
They’d all become incredibly close, though, and Misha had charmed Dean easily. He’d started out just annoying the hunter, but soon enough they’d become very good friends. Misha, of course, made it more, and Dean was more than willing after enough persuasion.
Here they were now, Dean sprawled across the bed and sleeping soundly while Misha, who had always been an early riser, watched him. It was early morning, and the sun was up, so it was easy to see how the light made the older Winchester’s skin glow. There were so many similarities between Dean and Jensen, but in the end they were completely separate, and there were tiny differences between their features. Misha liked that, because if they’d just been carbon copies it never would have been as much fun.
Leaning over, Misha rubbed his nose against the brand on Dean’s shoulder. He loved to touch it, and it was a perfect fit to his hand; that was awesome, and he never let an opportunity pass to touch it.
“That tickles.”
Misha chuckled and bit down on the tiny burn that was the thumb, listening to Dean’s sharp hiss before he pulled back. The man rolled over to stare up at him with forest-green eyes still foggy with sleep. When they light struck them, Misha took some time to count the shale-colored flecks because it was fun to do, and they were never in the same place twice.
Dean was obviously waiting for a good morning kiss, and Misha knew that. It was why he was deliberately not giving one, because he liked to see how long his fiery lover could last before getting impatient. Sure enough, only a few moments later Dean growled in frustration and slid his fingers into Misha’s hair; fisting a clump and jerking him down into a sloppy, deep kiss.
Taking control of it easily, Misha flicked his tongue across the top of Dean’s before tracing random patterns across the roof of his lover’s mouth. He drank down Dean’s moan and let out a pleased hum. One of the things he loved most was how responsive Dean was. It was always a battle of wills between them, but that made it half the fun. Misha never knew who was going to top at night, because they always fought over it.
He usually won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love the thrill of losing to Dean just as much. Misha was flexible like that. Right now, though, he was awake and Dean was still struggling to wake up, so he straddled the hunter’s thighs and ground their hips together. Dean was wearing his boxers and an old, ratty Metallica t-shirt; it felt fantastic against Misha’s bare skin, because he really didn’t like to sleep in clothing.
The man groaned into his mouth, long and low. In reward, Misha pulled down Dean’s boxers enough so that he could curl his hand around the head of their dicks and jack them off together. Lazy morning sex was all well and good, but they were currently at Bobby’s house, and there was a strong possibility of anyone walking in at any second.
Pleasure sparked through him with every pump of his hand, and he let out a soft sigh; felt Dean’s cock pulse, hot and throbbing, in his hand as their pre-cum mixed and slicked the way so they could thrust against one another. Dean came first with a soft, bitten-back growl, and after one last buck of his hips Misha came as well.
They had just enough time to roll apart before the door slammed open with all of the force that any fledgling angel excited to see his uncles possessed; which, of course, meant that it slammed open so hard that the doorknob punched a hole in the wall and proceeded to get stuck there.
“Uncle Misha! Uncle Dean! ‘S time t’ get uuuup!”
Misha slid discreetly beneath the blankets to hide his naked state while he groped around under the covers for the pajama bottoms he always hid at the foot just in case. Daniel Jared Ackles had not yet learned the art of knocking before opening a door, so Misha had gotten very good with the whole ‘just in case’ thing.
“We are uuuup, squirt,” Dean replied, boxers already fixed and his expression much more forgiving since the morning quickie. He rolled out of bed and left Misha to wiggle into his pants while the hunter walked out of the room and down the hall, Danny fluttering along after him. The tiny angel had three tiny pairs of wings, all of them too small to carry him in flight yet but developed enough to flutter and flap in the most adorable of ways.
The fact that they could see Danny’s wings was surprising enough, but apparently fledglings couldn’t hide them very well. At least that’s what Castiel had said. That, and God had a sense of humor. It explained why Danny was only technically three months old and already looked five, too.
Misha crawled out of bed just as Jensen walked in. His friend was grinning, so Misha made a face at the Archangel and flipped him off. Against his will, his finger curled back down.
“Watch it,” Jensen warned playfully, “there’s a kid in the house.”
“Yeah, your brat,” Misha shot back playfully, ducking under the angel’s arm and following the squeals of a happy child down the hallway. Dean had already washed his face by the time Misha elbowed him away from the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth. They were both going to need a shower, too, since drying cum really wasn’t the greatest feeling to have on one’s skin, but it was hard to do that with a child bouncing up and down in the doorway.
Jensen swooped into the rescue, though; scooped up the boy and nuzzled against his little freckled nose. Danny shrieked in glee and promptly broke the mirror. Dean and Misha jumped back to avoid the shards, but Jensen just blinked and suddenly it was like it never happened.
“That is clearly an abuse of your God-given powers!” Misha declared dramatically, pointing at his friend. The angel laughed and Dean snorted. His lover grabbed him and hauled him bodily into the shower, giving Jensen a pointed look. The Archangel made himself scarce and took Danny with him.
After a very nice, very hot, very long shower shared with Dean in which things may or may not have happened, both of them got dressed and Dean let Misha lead the way downstairs. Castiel was staring at them reproachfully from the breakfast table. Oh, right. Just because Danny didn’t have control of his powers didn’t mean that the other two angels didn’t.
Misha just smiled sweetly and arched an eyebrow at the angel. When Danny wasn’t looking he mouthed at least we’re not as loud as you and Castiel looked down. It was true, too. When Jensen and Castiel were going at it (which they did like rabbits, let Misha just point out), half the time it sounded like the house was going to blow apart. Bobby had finally made a rule that there would be no angel-loving going on under his roof after the fourth time the windows blew out, only to magically fix themselves.
Danny threw himself at Misha, and he caught the child easily and swung him up to sit the boy on his hip. He tickled the fledgling’s ear and smiled at his excited giggle before sitting down at the table and letting Danny settle himself on his lap. Dean sat down in the nearest chair and looked expectantly towards the stove, where Sam was busy making food.
“Any day now, Sasquatch!” he called playfully, and laughed when his brother huffed at him. Misha shook his head and shared a grin with Danny, who wiggled his wings against Misha’s chest in a way that made the hunter squirm and bite back laughter.
“So, anything of interest in the papers?” he asked, settling Danny with a hand in the boy’s light brown hair. Wide blue eyes looked up at him, and Misha was again drawn to the green that circled Danny’s pupils. It was hard to come by eyes that looked like that, and little Danny had his angel parents to thank for it.
“Just your regular salt ‘n’ burn jobs,” Sam replied distractedly, trying not to burn the bacon on Bobby’s temperamental stove. “There was something that sounded like it could be a werewolf; give it a look and see what you think.”
Misha snatched up the paper before Dean could grab it, and when his lover glared at him both he and Danny stuck their tongues out. Dean glared back at them, but when Misha waggled his eyebrows he couldn’t help but grin.
Victory to Misha, then, and he settled down to read the paper with Danny.