your clock is unlike

5 Years

From this request: can I request Castiel or Lucifer x reader where the reader is helping the guys with a case and somehow they end up in the future 5 years from now.The reader is married with Cas/Luci and the guys from the future help them with the case ?

*Cas-centric

______________________________________________________________

“I’m not sure we should be here,” Castiel said, looking around at the witch’s seemingly empty house.

“We’ll be fine, Cas,” you said. “We’re just going to do a quick look, see if we can find anything out of the ordinary. If anything points to her having been the one placing the hex bags in those women’s purses, we know who to go after.”

Cas still looked uneasy. “Just… don’t touch anything,” he said. “We don’t know what sort of curses she’s placed on… any of this stuff.”

You nodded your agreement before heading upstairs, searching each and every room. Nothing stood out to you as suspicious. In fact, if you didn’t know that the woman who lived here was actually a centuries-old witch, you’d think that the occupant was a completely normal woman.

You were about to head back downstairs when something on the table in the hall caught your attention. You stepped over and examined the clock. It was unlike any clock you’d ever seen, not only in the ornate carvings that decorated the timepiece but the fact that there were four hands, all spinning randomly around the face.

Your fingers reached for the clock, drawn by some invisible force.

‘No,’ you told yourself, pulling your hand back. ‘No touching.’

At that moment, a strong force behind you shoved you forward. Your hands darted out to catch yourself before crashing headfirst into the wall, the fingers of your right hand landing on the clock.

______________________________________________________________

You slowly blinked, finding yourself sitting in a booth at some restaurant. How had you gotten there?

“You okay?” a voice beside you asked.

You looked over and saw Castiel sitting next to you. He looked the same– big blue eyes, messy black hair. But he was no longer dressed in his typical suit-and-trench coat outfit. Instead, he was dressed like a typical hunter– plaid flannel over a t-shirt and worn jeans.

“Did you raid Dean’s closet?” you asked.

Cas chuckled, an arm snaking over your shoulders. “Yes, I know. I was stupid to have not worn this before. You can stop reminding me.”

“What?”

At that moment, the Winchesters walked over to your table, sliding in across from you. They were dressed in their black suits.

‘Interrogation day,’ you thought to yourself.

“Hey, you two,” Sam, smiling. “Long time, no see.”

“What are you talking about? We just saw you this morning.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Dean asked with a laugh. “We haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“Almost three,” Sam noted.

“What?!”

“Y/N, are you all right?” Cas asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Did she hit her head on your last hunt?” Dean asked.

“Not that I know of. Sweetheart, are you feeling all right?” Cas’ hand landed on your forehead.

Sweetheart? That was too much.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, pulling away from the angel. “I just…”

“Y’all ready to order?” the waitress asked, arriving at the perfect moment. You silently thanked every entity for sending her your way at that moment.

The four of you ordered and the waitress wandered off. You could still sense that the men around you were concerned and confused, but the subject was dropped.

“So,” Dean said. “What can you tell us about the hunt?”

Cas shook his head. “Not much. We know that it’s a witch– we’ve found hex bags at every scene. But we can’t seem to find the witch.”

‘Witch?’ you thought to yourself. ‘Surely not the same witch…’

“We’ve been asking around at some of the victims’ neighbors’ houses. No one seems to have a lot of information.”

“I know,” Cas said with a sigh. “And the victims are now at fifteen.”

“How many cases were unsolved?” Sam asked. “Weren’t there some similar deaths about five years ago?”

Five years? That was odd but you still couldn’t push away the idea that whatever witch they were talking about now was the same one you’d been looking for before ending up at the restaurant. “429 Oak.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“429 Oak. The witch lives there.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas asked. “You’ve never mentioned that before.”

“I just… trust me on this. Please?”

Cas studied you for a moment before turning to the Winchesters. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I trust her.”

Dean nodded once. “Married life has turned you into her bitch, eh?”

MARRIED?!

You looked down and saw that there was a golden band on your finger.

‘Holy shit.’

“We’ll go there after lunch,” Sam said, noting the approaching waitress.

______________________________________________________________

429 Oak was exactly as you remembered it. The aura coming from it definitely suggested a witch lived here. You were following Sam and Dean up the steps to the porch when you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned and saw Cas standing beneath you, gently holding you back.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you?” he asked quietly. “You’ve been strange since lunch.”

“I… I don’t know, Cas. I just… this place feels right to me. I think this is where the witch lives.”

“How do you know?”

“I can’t explain it, Cas.” You bit your lip. “Please, Cas. Just trust me.”

Cas was quiet for a moment. “I do trust you, Y/N. But I’m also worried about you.”

You felt bad– you’d always liked the angel and if he was truly married to you, he must be extremely worried. “I’ll be fine. Especially if I have you with me.”

Cas gave you a small smile just as Sam popped the lock on the front door.

“We’re in,” he said.

The four of you walked in and you had a weird moment of deja vu. Like you’d been there before.

‘But I have,’ you thought. ‘I was just here earlier… although apparently ‘earlier’ was five years ago.’

You hadn’t wanted to believe that you’d somehow time traveled, but when you and Cas were leaving the restaurant your eyes landed on a newspaper stand. The date showed the year was 2021.

“Well?” Dean asked. “Are you getting any sort of psychic vision now that we’re here?”

“It wasn’t a vision,” you muttered. You brushed past the Winchesters and headed upstairs.

There in the hall was that same clock. You remembered touching it just before ending up in the restaurant.

‘Is this… is this what caused me to time travel?’ you asked yourself.

“Y/N?” Cas called, heading up the stairs. “What did you find?”

You took a deep breath. You loved Cas and you realized that being married to him was one of the happiest things that had ever happened to you (despite how weird it had been at the beginning). But you knew you needed to go back. You needed to get your head straight. (Plus, you hated the idea of having a five-year gap in your memory.)

Cas’ foot had just landed on the top step as you reached for the clock.

______________________________________________________________

“Y/N?”

You looked over, finding Cas standing next to you. His brow was creased with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What year is it?”

“What?”

“The year! What year is it?!”

“Two thousand and sixteen. Just like always.” Cas cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

“Oh, thank God.” You let out a sigh of relief, feeling a huge weight lift from your shoulders.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You stepped over and wrapped your arms around Cas, burying your face in his chest.

“Y/N?”

“I missed you, Cas.” It was weird to say, especially considering the life you’d left with him in the future.

“We were separated for only a few minutes.”

“It felt like five years.”