[FIC] Bless Me Father... for vixengeraldine
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: Bless Me Father…
Author: kateyes085
Recipient: vixengeraldine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, blaspheme and perversity.
Spoilers: None.
Wordcount: 1948
Summary: Castiel as a priest by day, demon hunter by night; Dean is a powerful demon looking for redemption.
Author notes: Sam said Yes to Lucifer and the world fell. Some, like Father Castiel, still believe, but demons roam the earth doing Lucifer’s biding. It is years in the future (50+). Dean did not say yes to Michael but followed his brother to his throne in Hell.
~*~
Castiel listened into the darkness. He had just salted and burned the pesky poltergeist that was plaguing Mrs. Wilson’s root cellar. He heard a twig snap in the distance. He was instantly alert; silver knife in his hand, flask of holy water attached to his hip and his sawed off shotgun full of rock salt shells was fastened to a sheath across his back. He made his way cautiously to his old beat up pickup truck at the edge of the old cemetary.
He could hear giggling in the distance followed by a whiny lisp. “But Dean, I wanna play. Can’t I play with him for just a little bit? Me and Meg would have so much fun with him. He’s got the prettiest blue eyes. Just makes you wanna pluck ‘em out and put them on the shelf so he can see all the fun we’re gonna have,” the girl clapped giddily.
Castiel had reached his truck and quickly got in only to see them walk out of the woods into the clearing. He tried repeatedly to get the engine to turn over. Damn he was gonna have to get this thing fixed, but the congregation just did not have the extra funds. Please Lord, one I could take, but not three.
The three of them had coal black eyes wearing black leather jackets and jeans. One of them was a tall man with blonde hair with a short brunette on one side and flanked by a short blonde on the other side. “Nah, I think I’m gonna have some fun with this one instead,” he purred.
The petite blonde girl stomped her foot and glared up at him, “I’m tellin’ Sammy.”
“Go right ahead Meg, you and Ruby both know that blue-eyed angel’s gonna be mine,” the man replied.
Castiel did not stick around to hear any more when the engine turned over with a thud and he peeled out into the night.
~*~
Midnight mass had been exhausting. Hardly any turn out with a rerun of the eight o’clock mass earlier in the evening. Father Castiel was righting the hymnals and clearing out the pews before he turned in for the night.
He had not heard anyone come in but he did hear the door discretely close to the confessional. He blessed himself and went to hear confession.
Father Castiel entered the middle compartment of the confessional, slid back the screen and offered a quiet blessing to the penitent, “What sins do you have to confess my child?”
“Bless me father for I have sinned … a lot. It’s been … well hell, I don’t think I’ve ever been to confession, guess you get to pop my confessional cherry there padre,” Father Castiel heard a male purr huskily.
He knew this voice … he sighed heavily, “Your sins my son.”
“I’ve lusted father. I’ve seen an angel from heaven and I have lusted for him. I want him to kneel before me and suck my cock back into his throat, so tight, so perfect that I die from the pleasure of it Father,” he groaned quietly. Father Castiel cleared his throat and readjusted himself as his black linen trousers were suddenly becoming very tight. He knew he desired the flesh of a man versus that of a woman, which is why he ran to seminary and hid behind his religion.
“He has the most beautiful blue eyes. I want to pluck them out and put them in my pocket. Pull them out and put them on the stand next to my bed while I jerk off so he can see me come from my impure thoughts of him,” he continued to purr. Father Castiel could hear a zipper being opened and the rustling of fabric in the other compartment.
He finally recognized the voice. He grabbed the hip flask from his pocket and threw holy water threw the screen. He could hear the demon hissing and swearing in reaction as he banged against the walls of the confessional. Castiel busted through his door and wrenched open the other closed door. The demon sat there debauched with his jeans half fastened, panting in excitement and pain.
Father Castiel reached in and grabbed the demon by the edges of his leather jacket, wrenched him through the door and slammed him up against the side of the structure. He wedged his knee and thigh between the demon’s legs causing him to whimper softly, eyes glazing in ecstasy. “You defile this house of God with your filth, demon.”
Clear jade green eyes leered at Father Castiel as he smirked, “Knew you’d be worth it angel,” he replied and disappeared before Father Castiel’s eyes.
~*~
Father Castiel had had a long day and night, sermons, and prayers for the sick and dying, consoling grieving families, then he patrolled looking for the demons he had seen the week earlier. Each night he patrolled but saw nothing of them, other than when the man came to taunt him in his confessional.
He had settled in with a cup of tea topped off with a shot of whiskey. There was a knock on his door. He rose to answer it. The blonde-haired demon with luminous green eyes was standing nervously at his doorstep.
“I have not the strength to deal with you demon,” Castiel informed him.
The demon replied as he held up his hands in supplication, “I only want to talk to you. No tricks. I swear.”
“Demons lie,” Castiel replied.
“Yeah we do, but I’m not lying. My name’s Dean,” he replied.
“Dean - Dean Winchester? The hunter who fell after Samuel Winchester submitted to Lucifer?” Castiel asked in surprise.
Dean winced in response. “Are you gonna let me in or not?”
“Why do you wish to speak to me Dean Winchester?” Castiel asked standing his ground.
“There - there was an angel. His name was Castiel. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He died by Lucifer’s, Sammy’s, hand. There was nothing else for me after that, so I followed Sammy. I was supposed to say yes to Michael, but there was no reason after I had lost both Sammy and Cas. You - you remind me of him. I just want to talk. There’s nothing - this isn’t me. I remember what I did in Hell before. I’m never gonna forget that. I just, I remember the good stuff too, there wasn’t much of it for me, but I tried, I really tried to make a difference when I was human,” he explained. “I wanna help you. I wanna do the right thing again. It won’t make any difference in the end, but I have to try.”
Begrudgingly Castiel let him in, “Don’t make me regret this,” he snarled as he pushed open the door allowing the demon into his home.
~*~
Dean lived in the rectory with Father Castiel. They had cleared out an area in the cellar for him to sleep and had constructed the extra room, per Dean’s request.
“Are you sure Dean?” Father Castiel asked one last time before he tightened the last strap to the old wooden cross.
“Yes Father,” Dean hissed through the pain. The leather straps were soaked in salted holy water. “Please, I need this.”
Dean sought salvation and redemption through his work with Father Castiel and the church, but he required penitence in the form submission to the Father through pain in his mind to make it right.
Castiel had whipped Dean’s back repeatedly with a handheld mechanism constructed of rosary beads and crosses. Then, Castiel had coated his back with coarse rock salt. They had fortified the walls so no one would hear his screams. These sessions were particularly draining for Castiel due to their brutal nature, but Dean was still a demon. He had been most helpful in assisting Father Castiel with his hunts, so as squeamish as he became, Father Castiel persevered, because this seemed to center and calm the vicious demon residing in the body of Dean Winchester.
Father Castiel tended to Dean’s wounds and released him from the cross. He tried to hold Dean up when he nearly collapsed upon release from the cross but he ended up sprawled on the floor with Dean laying on him.
“Come on Dean, we need to get you to the bed,” he said ineffectually pushing against the demon to get him up.
“mmm, Cas,” Dean murmured as he nuzzled Castiel’s neck. He rubbed himself against Castiel’s thigh seeking release. “Please Cas, Please, I need …” he whined, pushing his knee up slightly feeling Castiel’s responding hardness. They both gasped at the contact.
Dean clawed at Cas’ hips pulling him up against his thigh. Dean pressed and pulled them together riding Cas’ thigh hard seeking release.
“Dean, no, we can’t,” Castiel pleaded weakly turning his head to the side as Dean nipped and sucked at his neck.
“Let me Cas, you do so much for me,” he whispered in against Castiel’s lips before he kissed him.
“Oh dear Lord forgive me, I can’t stop,” Castiel cried out overcome with lust and want for the demon he was trying to redeem. His hand clamped onto Dean’s shoulder fitting perfectly into the scar Dean received from his Angel years before.
“Oh fuck! Shit, Christ, Cas….” Dean yelled as white-hot light shot through his body from the scar causing him to come. Castiel screamed and stiffened in release in response.
They shook and held each other as they came down from their high. “What have I done?” Castiel whispered.
~*~
After Sunday service, Dean discretely knocked at Father Castiel’s office door.
“Yes?” he heard Father Castiel reply.
Dean quietly let himself in, walked to the Father Castiel’s chair, and knelt awaiting instructions. Father Castiel finished what he was working on, pushed his chair back and turned to face his demon. “Let me see your hands.”
Dean removed his hands that were fisted in the pockets of his leather jacket. He turned them palm side up revealing a silver rosary bead in each hand. The crucifix had burned into his skin. Father Castiel carefully removed the crucifix and returned them to the jar of holy water in the drawer beside his desk. He turned and dabbed and cleaned the wounds until they were healed.
Castiel pulled the plate that was covered with a white cloth from the side of his desk to sit in front of him and began the ritual of Holy Communion for Dean.
Dean’s forehead sizzled and burned as Father Castiel’s thumb dipped in holy water blessed him.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
The Eucharist burned and singed Dean’s throat as it went down. He sighed and murmured contently in his journey towards redemption as he nuzzled Father Castiel’s thigh from his seat at his feet while the father returned to preparing his sermons for the next mass.
Dean loved Father Castiel almost as much as his Angel. He was no replacement, but helped to fill the hole burned through with empty years of loneliness and misery.
~*~
Title: Bless Me Father…
Author: kateyes085
Recipient: vixengeraldine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, blaspheme and perversity.
Spoilers: None.
Wordcount: 1948
Summary: Castiel as a priest by day, demon hunter by night; Dean is a powerful demon looking for redemption.
Author notes: Sam said Yes to Lucifer and the world fell. Some, like Father Castiel, still believe, but demons roam the earth doing Lucifer’s biding. It is years in the future (50+). Dean did not say yes to Michael but followed his brother to his throne in Hell.
~*~
Castiel listened into the darkness. He had just salted and burned the pesky poltergeist that was plaguing Mrs. Wilson’s root cellar. He heard a twig snap in the distance. He was instantly alert; silver knife in his hand, flask of holy water attached to his hip and his sawed off shotgun full of rock salt shells was fastened to a sheath across his back. He made his way cautiously to his old beat up pickup truck at the edge of the old cemetary.
He could hear giggling in the distance followed by a whiny lisp. “But Dean, I wanna play. Can’t I play with him for just a little bit? Me and Meg would have so much fun with him. He’s got the prettiest blue eyes. Just makes you wanna pluck ‘em out and put them on the shelf so he can see all the fun we’re gonna have,” the girl clapped giddily.
Castiel had reached his truck and quickly got in only to see them walk out of the woods into the clearing. He tried repeatedly to get the engine to turn over. Damn he was gonna have to get this thing fixed, but the congregation just did not have the extra funds. Please Lord, one I could take, but not three.
The three of them had coal black eyes wearing black leather jackets and jeans. One of them was a tall man with blonde hair with a short brunette on one side and flanked by a short blonde on the other side. “Nah, I think I’m gonna have some fun with this one instead,” he purred.
The petite blonde girl stomped her foot and glared up at him, “I’m tellin’ Sammy.”
“Go right ahead Meg, you and Ruby both know that blue-eyed angel’s gonna be mine,” the man replied.
Castiel did not stick around to hear any more when the engine turned over with a thud and he peeled out into the night.
~*~
Midnight mass had been exhausting. Hardly any turn out with a rerun of the eight o’clock mass earlier in the evening. Father Castiel was righting the hymnals and clearing out the pews before he turned in for the night.
He had not heard anyone come in but he did hear the door discretely close to the confessional. He blessed himself and went to hear confession.
Father Castiel entered the middle compartment of the confessional, slid back the screen and offered a quiet blessing to the penitent, “What sins do you have to confess my child?”
“Bless me father for I have sinned … a lot. It’s been … well hell, I don’t think I’ve ever been to confession, guess you get to pop my confessional cherry there padre,” Father Castiel heard a male purr huskily.
He knew this voice … he sighed heavily, “Your sins my son.”
“I’ve lusted father. I’ve seen an angel from heaven and I have lusted for him. I want him to kneel before me and suck my cock back into his throat, so tight, so perfect that I die from the pleasure of it Father,” he groaned quietly. Father Castiel cleared his throat and readjusted himself as his black linen trousers were suddenly becoming very tight. He knew he desired the flesh of a man versus that of a woman, which is why he ran to seminary and hid behind his religion.
“He has the most beautiful blue eyes. I want to pluck them out and put them in my pocket. Pull them out and put them on the stand next to my bed while I jerk off so he can see me come from my impure thoughts of him,” he continued to purr. Father Castiel could hear a zipper being opened and the rustling of fabric in the other compartment.
He finally recognized the voice. He grabbed the hip flask from his pocket and threw holy water threw the screen. He could hear the demon hissing and swearing in reaction as he banged against the walls of the confessional. Castiel busted through his door and wrenched open the other closed door. The demon sat there debauched with his jeans half fastened, panting in excitement and pain.
Father Castiel reached in and grabbed the demon by the edges of his leather jacket, wrenched him through the door and slammed him up against the side of the structure. He wedged his knee and thigh between the demon’s legs causing him to whimper softly, eyes glazing in ecstasy. “You defile this house of God with your filth, demon.”
Clear jade green eyes leered at Father Castiel as he smirked, “Knew you’d be worth it angel,” he replied and disappeared before Father Castiel’s eyes.
~*~
Father Castiel had had a long day and night, sermons, and prayers for the sick and dying, consoling grieving families, then he patrolled looking for the demons he had seen the week earlier. Each night he patrolled but saw nothing of them, other than when the man came to taunt him in his confessional.
He had settled in with a cup of tea topped off with a shot of whiskey. There was a knock on his door. He rose to answer it. The blonde-haired demon with luminous green eyes was standing nervously at his doorstep.
“I have not the strength to deal with you demon,” Castiel informed him.
The demon replied as he held up his hands in supplication, “I only want to talk to you. No tricks. I swear.”
“Demons lie,” Castiel replied.
“Yeah we do, but I’m not lying. My name’s Dean,” he replied.
“Dean - Dean Winchester? The hunter who fell after Samuel Winchester submitted to Lucifer?” Castiel asked in surprise.
Dean winced in response. “Are you gonna let me in or not?”
“Why do you wish to speak to me Dean Winchester?” Castiel asked standing his ground.
“There - there was an angel. His name was Castiel. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He died by Lucifer’s, Sammy’s, hand. There was nothing else for me after that, so I followed Sammy. I was supposed to say yes to Michael, but there was no reason after I had lost both Sammy and Cas. You - you remind me of him. I just want to talk. There’s nothing - this isn’t me. I remember what I did in Hell before. I’m never gonna forget that. I just, I remember the good stuff too, there wasn’t much of it for me, but I tried, I really tried to make a difference when I was human,” he explained. “I wanna help you. I wanna do the right thing again. It won’t make any difference in the end, but I have to try.”
Begrudgingly Castiel let him in, “Don’t make me regret this,” he snarled as he pushed open the door allowing the demon into his home.
~*~
Dean lived in the rectory with Father Castiel. They had cleared out an area in the cellar for him to sleep and had constructed the extra room, per Dean’s request.
“Are you sure Dean?” Father Castiel asked one last time before he tightened the last strap to the old wooden cross.
“Yes Father,” Dean hissed through the pain. The leather straps were soaked in salted holy water. “Please, I need this.”
Dean sought salvation and redemption through his work with Father Castiel and the church, but he required penitence in the form submission to the Father through pain in his mind to make it right.
Castiel had whipped Dean’s back repeatedly with a handheld mechanism constructed of rosary beads and crosses. Then, Castiel had coated his back with coarse rock salt. They had fortified the walls so no one would hear his screams. These sessions were particularly draining for Castiel due to their brutal nature, but Dean was still a demon. He had been most helpful in assisting Father Castiel with his hunts, so as squeamish as he became, Father Castiel persevered, because this seemed to center and calm the vicious demon residing in the body of Dean Winchester.
Father Castiel tended to Dean’s wounds and released him from the cross. He tried to hold Dean up when he nearly collapsed upon release from the cross but he ended up sprawled on the floor with Dean laying on him.
“Come on Dean, we need to get you to the bed,” he said ineffectually pushing against the demon to get him up.
“mmm, Cas,” Dean murmured as he nuzzled Castiel’s neck. He rubbed himself against Castiel’s thigh seeking release. “Please Cas, Please, I need …” he whined, pushing his knee up slightly feeling Castiel’s responding hardness. They both gasped at the contact.
Dean clawed at Cas’ hips pulling him up against his thigh. Dean pressed and pulled them together riding Cas’ thigh hard seeking release.
“Dean, no, we can’t,” Castiel pleaded weakly turning his head to the side as Dean nipped and sucked at his neck.
“Let me Cas, you do so much for me,” he whispered in against Castiel’s lips before he kissed him.
“Oh dear Lord forgive me, I can’t stop,” Castiel cried out overcome with lust and want for the demon he was trying to redeem. His hand clamped onto Dean’s shoulder fitting perfectly into the scar Dean received from his Angel years before.
“Oh fuck! Shit, Christ, Cas….” Dean yelled as white-hot light shot through his body from the scar causing him to come. Castiel screamed and stiffened in release in response.
They shook and held each other as they came down from their high. “What have I done?” Castiel whispered.
~*~
After Sunday service, Dean discretely knocked at Father Castiel’s office door.
“Yes?” he heard Father Castiel reply.
Dean quietly let himself in, walked to the Father Castiel’s chair, and knelt awaiting instructions. Father Castiel finished what he was working on, pushed his chair back and turned to face his demon. “Let me see your hands.”
Dean removed his hands that were fisted in the pockets of his leather jacket. He turned them palm side up revealing a silver rosary bead in each hand. The crucifix had burned into his skin. Father Castiel carefully removed the crucifix and returned them to the jar of holy water in the drawer beside his desk. He turned and dabbed and cleaned the wounds until they were healed.
Castiel pulled the plate that was covered with a white cloth from the side of his desk to sit in front of him and began the ritual of Holy Communion for Dean.
Dean’s forehead sizzled and burned as Father Castiel’s thumb dipped in holy water blessed him.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
The Eucharist burned and singed Dean’s throat as it went down. He sighed and murmured contently in his journey towards redemption as he nuzzled Father Castiel’s thigh from his seat at his feet while the father returned to preparing his sermons for the next mass.
Dean loved Father Castiel almost as much as his Angel. He was no replacement, but helped to fill the hole burned through with empty years of loneliness and misery.
~*~