#BUT OH WHEN WHEN WHEN SHE WAS HOLDING HUNTER WHEN HE WAS MOMENTARILY DEAD YO BRO YO

[kiatheinsomniac]

Huntress IV

[ I ]  [ II ]  [ III ]  [ IV ]

Every single one of her hairs stood on end as she sat in the corner of the room on the floor, stressing. She had given into the vampire, yes, but that didn't mean that she had any intention of staying true to her word. She had been on this journey far too long to just cut it short now. She needed vengeance.

But she was in a corner both physically and mentally. Her hands raked through her loose (h/c) tresses as she kept her knees close up to her chest. It was something she did to calm her stress: get somewhere where she knew she could be safe and just think.

Ezio had told her to meet him later that night at a particular church on the west side of the city. She didn't know what to do. He had played to some of her deepest desires perfectly and knew exactly what she had been yearning to hear for years. But that didn't mean she trusted him. Why would he promise her, specifically, a safe life if his goals were freedom for all unless he had a hidden agenda? Once more, she lacked every piece to this elaborate puzzle. The light of the fireplace quickly began to take over the golden light of the setting sun that was slipping down over the horizon - making the sky seem like one of the paintings that (Y/n) had seen in Leonardo's workshop earlier that day.

Her heart and mind were torn. Hell, she didn't know what her heart wanted anymore. She previously thought that it wanted vengeance for her coven but now, it seemed to sing a different song: one of an easier life where she would be safe and cared for, free to be who she was without being killed the way her sisters were; free to love and be loved and to not have to think of all the innocent blood that was being spilt each and every day.

Yet, her mind was in disagreement. It wanted to finish this long quest, saying she would never truly be at peace until it was done. It said that humans and witches alike would be so much safer with the vampires gone. It told her that no one would care for her because of the path she had chosen to go down and that her best possible future was to finish this journey and be at peace in solitude after.

Ezio most certainly had not been wrong when he told her that she was in over her head. She had since snooped around the Doge's study again and had uncovered letters and pages about his plans - even the Pope was involved! She was merely a witch hunter, not an assassin, not a Templar, not a monumental leader. Should she just continue to play her part then? To kill the vampire and return home, leaving the Templars to rule over Italy then surely the rest of the world soon after? Or should she finally allow change? To help Ezio and secure freedom? Wasn't that the whole stigma of her revenge? Lack of freedom? Injustice?

Her head swam with a million questions. She could not distinguish between truth and lies at this point, this damn puzzle seeming impossible and as though it was made only to be swiped off a desk in the frustration of its impossibility.

She shot up to her feet and began pacing up and down the room rapidly. No! Her heart was foolish, her heart desired to love another and to be loved, to lead a happy and unbothered life. She knew that being a witch forbade this, it isolated her from society but she refused to give up who she was so she would simply have to continue playing her part. She knew where Ezio would be tonight. She had to end this.

♰♰♰

(Y/n) had since explained to the Doge that she had encountered the vampire while out in the city, being very careful in the way she narrated her story by leaving out any incriminating details. He had given her command over a league of guards who would be able to assist her in attacking the church, trapping the vampire inside then killing him.

The witch hunter had supplied the guards with smoke bombs and cherry bombs. Vampires had heightened senses so taking sight away could throw them off and bright flashes of light or sudden loud sounds could stun them momentarily. There were very few advantages when fighting a creature that was biologically superior in strength and sensitivity to humans, but (Y/n) had learned throughout her career to take what she could get and to make the very most out of those few precious moments which they provided.

She stood alone, the tall abandoned church dwarfing her figure. Shadows whispered and clung to the buildings like an audience anticipating the spectacle that was soon to unfold before their eyes.

The Doge’s men were hidden in nearby alleys, prepared to attack at the first suspicious noise. (Y/n) lifted her hand and beat her fist down on the large doors, causing one of them to creak open on rusted hinges, the sound echoing through the hall inside and the deathly silent streets outside, running along the cobbles and dissolving into alleys.

“Ezio? I’m here as you asked!” She called inside. She had to lure him out because she knew all too well that she could be easily taken by surprise if she entered.

“Come in, dolcezza!” His voice drawled from inside. But she could hear in his voice that he knew, she could feel it in the air.

Something powerful urged her to look up, to slowly raise her head to a statue of an angel that was perched on a ledge high up on the entrance. Beside the angel sat a woman.

Her hair was not styled, therefore, freely fell around her shoulders to her midriff. It was a toned-out brown and her skin was pale as the patched autumn moonlight. Her eyes were a vibrant green that glowed, letting off their own light and applying the only colour that she could bear. Her neck was tilted to the side at an angle and upon closer inspection, (Y/n) could see two punctures over her artery. 

Her first thought was that this naked woman was a vampire — Ezio’s accomplice and possible lover. But then the familiarity of her caused the witch hunter to freeze momentarily.

Elizabetta.

‘Leave’ she mouthed, her voice reduced to silence for the ears of a witch.

“Are you not coming in?” She was snapped back to reality by Ezio’s voice. She could see his figure in the shadows just past the threshold of the door, he reached out to offer her a hand.

“No, I want to discuss this matter with you outside.” (Y/n)’s (e/c) orbs flickered back up to Elizabetta, only to find that she was gone.

“Do not pay her any attention, she likes to play tricks.” Ezio smiled, knowing that the ghost of his victim would try to foil his plans by warning the hunter of how out of her depth she was yet again. 

“Could you step outside?” She asked again. Ezio sighed.

“No, I feel safer here and I am the one being hunted, after all.”

“So you invite the hunter into your home?” She contrasted. 

He wasn’t the one being hunted here. 

It took a mere second for her own words to sink in before he lunged forward and grabbed her arm, tugging her inside and throwing her to the floor. He knew exactly what she would do and had been anticipating an attack.

(Y/n) jumped to her feet a drew her sword.

“There are men coming now!” She exclaimed, hoping to alert the armed guards. The sound of running steps outside made her relieved.

“Wonderful.” The vampire spread his arms as he backed up to the end of the church, the doors flying open.

They were there but not. None of them wanted to be seen so (Y/n) was unable to notice them as she had with Elizabetta but they were all there: ghosts. Ragged spirits with the crooked necks of all ages and appearances. Yet they all looked the same to her: a blur of invisibility with little sparks of amber. Her mouth fell open. The guards would be utterly unaware of them.

The witch hunter tried to keep her eyes on the door without turning her back to Ezio.

“Stop!” She yelled, “They're ghosts every—“ but the guards had already come pouring in. They were violently dragged inside, toes barely scraping the floor before they were smashed into walls and the floor, two even being flung to the ceiling and cracking the plaster before falling to their deaths.

The sight of a soldier’s ghost smashing a guard’s helmet in on the floor until it broke his skull made her feel sick. She turned back to Ezio who looked disappointed.

“I truly wanted to help you, mia bella.” He sighed, drawing his own sword from his hip, “We could have made the world a much better place together but instead, you stand by those who would end you. Why?”

She didn’t want him questioning her personal choices, to know what made her who she was, so she chose to lunge at him instead, swords clashing.

The blades locked for a moment and they were pushed closer to one another, her eyes scorching with murder and lust of vengeance as they met his.

“You smell of cinnamon. Have you called the goddess of war to aid you?” He smirked, withdrawing and they circled the other while the guards struggled to face their unseen enemies. “Your gods are dead.” He taunted, trying to get her angry enough to slip up. But her swordsmanship skills were impeccable.

“The new god is false. Fake gods are paid for with wine and song, the true gods take blood and fire.” Her teeth gritted as she swung her blade. She didn’t plan on speaking again, it would only allow him under her skin which is exactly what he wanted. 

“Oh, I hear your gods take many things. How I’d love to watch you worship Venus or Eros.” Her eyes flared and cheeks flushed at this, flustered and angered all at once. “Just give up and come to me, you know you want to. You want me to hold you while you tremble and tell you that everything’s alright, that it’s all over.”

Those last three words made her heart ache. Even out of context, that was all she needed to hear. But she couldn’t relent, not when she was this close.

He went to slash at her while she had no time to use her sword as a defence.

“Athena!” She cried out. Instead of losing her arm, Ezio’s blade came down on an arm guard that gleamed goldenly and let off a faint light. An owl’s eye was carved into it alongside other intricate Greek patterns. She kept her eyes on him.

“You cannot see the gift you’ve been given, can you?” He spoke as he withdrew the blade and the bracers vanished.

“I feel them!” She growled as she stepped forwards, sword poised. Calling on such divine favour drained her of almost all the energy at once and she knew that she had to end this fight fast.

(Y/n) made a risk in prying his sword from his hand and tossing her own one behind her shoulder but it paid off. He no longer had a sword and would have to rely on weapons that weren’t as long-range.

Before he could pull out a dagger, she rammed her shoulder into him and sent him stumbling to the floor. As she fell, she threw his sword out of reach and flung herself at him. She landed, straddling his waist, and pulled out a stake from a pouch on her belt.

The hunter gripped it tightly in her hands and raised it over her head, poised to strike. Quick as a viper, she brought it down, only to freeze just as it was about to come into contact with his clothing.

She couldn’t move.

Her eyes widened in panic as she tried to bring it down into his heart, only to remain frozen. She tried getting off his lap but couldn’t move anything other than her eyes.

“Oh, carissima, did you really think I’d let you kill me?” He laughed deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest. “No, no.” She slowly stood up against her will and stripped herself of all her weapons. “You have so much to learn still. You have to find out for yourself that it is best we work together.” He reached forward to caress her cheek with his knuckles, ever so lightly stroking her skin. "You'll see that you're on the wrong side. I'll come back for you, I promise." With that said, he took her jaw in his hand and pressed his palm to her skin.

A terrible pain bloomed in her head and she let out a cry before darkness took over. Clever, he had caused her body to shut itself down.

Robes swirling in the night's breeze, Ezio gathered up all of his papers and fled into the night under the obscurity of darkness.

♰♰♰

The last three days had been hell.

When (Y/n) awoke, she was chained in a prison cell under the accusation of witchcraft that the few remaining guards had witnessed. The number of witnesses confirmed that there would be no trial before her execution.

She just prayed that they wouldn't burn her.

The hunter had demanded to speak to the Doge over and over, only to be told that he dismissed each and every one of her requests; 'too busy' the guards had told her.

She was beginning to feel filthy in that small cell with no bath and its dirty floors. The poor excuse for a bed had left her with aching limbs - it was merely a sack of straw on a wooden board.

The brick walls were covered in grime and the small barred window only allowed light in once afternoon had passed. Currently, she sat in near darkness, the candle burning low on the bare desk. (Y/n)'s ears picked up the jingling of keys contrasting the silence, echoing off her cell's walls. She jumped to her feet, hoping for her request for a meeting to have been fulfilled or, even better, to be given a drink.

She hastily got up, facing the door and readying herself for whatever could be waiting on the other side of that damaged, thick wood. Her legs felt weak and her stomach ached for something other than the measly slice of bread which she was given each evening.

Her hair had become greasy and her skin was dirty from the unclean environment which she was being held in. She regretted ever taking baths for granted. On the other side of the door was the guard captain whom she had only ever spoken to when she had to arrange the attack on the church that had got her into this mess.

Her arm was roughly grabbed and her hands were bound behind her back as she was forced out of the cell.

"The date's been moved." Was all he said.

"To when?" She replied in a weak voice. She already knew the answer and the last thing she wanted was to hear him say it but she needed confirmation of her worst fears.

"Now." The guard replied harshly as he dragged her through the dirty corridors of cells. (Y/n)'s eyes burned with tears, the grime-coated stone blurring to a murky grey around her. She had thought that she would be strong enough to not cry, but now that death was looking her in the eye, she realised that she had been foolish to think she would keep her chin up.

'Don't burn me, don't burn me, don't burn me'

The words were a mantra in her mind as she prayed to each and every deity she could name, hoping that one of them would hear her and rescue her from her fate. But she could feel nothing over the fear which swallowed her whole, making her fall to her knees as a sob escaped her and the captain had to pull her to her feet again as they began to descend a flight of stairs.

She was taken out into the courtyard where a line of guards stood to attention on the right. To the left, the Doge stood alongside a priest. He had a nonchalant expression on his face, knowing he was killing both a witch and a loose end to the Templar Order. (Y/n) fell to her feet again when she saw what had been set up in the middle of them all: a wooden beam, standing upright with kindling around its base.

They were going to burn her.

She was dragged back to her feet as the light of the sun began to slip down over the horizon, painting the world fiery reds and oranges; much like the fire that would soon consume the young woman. That was it, she couldn't bear it.

She had been weakened in the last three days but that didn't stop her from trying to fight back. She tried to run back inside, to escape the guard's grip. But he grabbed her by the hair and pushed her to the ground, kicking her in the side before grabbing her bound wrists and pulling her up once more now that she was too sore to fight back, pain blooming over her ribs and making her cry as she was dragged over to what would be her deathbed. She refused to take a step, her feet scraping against the ground. Eventually, she was being bound to the wood and blessed with holy water as the last of the sun's light died behind the horizon, letting way to a dark sky of stars.

"Hurry up!" The Doge snapped, looking around the area. (Y/n)'s brows furrowed as her head began to ache from her crying, chest shuddering with each breath, lungs beginning to feel like lead. Why was he so paranoid? Why had he sped up the execution date? So many similar questions filled her mind before she realised what the answer was. The words echoed through her mind - his words:

"I'll come back for you, I promise."

Was he coming to save her? Is that why the Doge was so hastily trying to get rid of her? She could only hope that he would be here soon if he was, in fact, going to try and rescue her.

Her questions were answered when three guards fell to their knees, eyes bulging and blood dribbling from their lips in thick tendrils. The last rays of sunlight were gone. A torch was thrown to her feet and fear gutted her insides as she felt the heat sear at her ankles and lick up her calves.

The arguments of metal rang in the evening air but grew lost to her screams of agony as her skin blistered with the ever-growing heat and invading flames. She struggled and fought with all her might but the past few days had weakened her significantly.

The smoke assaulted her eyes, forcing her to close them against the pain as her cries were broken by the coughs provoked by her lungs filling with that very smoke.

She hadn’t noticed that the noise had stopped, only that she had fallen forwards into the kindling which danced with flames and heat, further burning her body. Though, she was quickly pulled from those hot tendrils, her pain intensifying when she felt hands on her severely burned legs, patting out the fire and suffocating it but prodding the burns painfully nonetheless.

She continued to sob and cry out in protest against the agony until she could open her (e/c) eyes, meeting the familiar dark brown ones that belonged to Ezio. He held her close to him with one arm while the other cupped her face, making sure she kept her eyes open.

“You’ll be ok. I’ll get you to a doctor. You’re safe.” He soothed her as he picked her up bridal style, a yelp escaping her throat when her burned flesh knocked against the fabric of his clothes, feeling like salt being rubbed into her wounds.

“Where’s the Doge?” She asked weakly.

“He got away but I’ll get him another time. You need a doctor.” She now regretted betraying him. When they first met, he told her that he would kill her if she remained in his way. She had planned a direct attack on him no less than three days ago and now he was the one saving her life when the people she had betrayed him for were the ones who had planned her execution.

“We’ll get him.” She corrected, taking a deep, shuddering breath and closing her eyes, “You were right. I should have—“

“Now’s not the time for that. We need to get your wounds treated.”

♰♰♰

Ezio sat beside her as she rested on the bed at the infirmary. He had cleaned her face with a damp cloth, carefully brushed her hair for her and made sure there was something prepared for her to eat and drink for when she woke.

He softly squeezed her hand and could feel the pulse thrumming in her fingers. It was dark in the room, minus the dim moonlight that filtered in through the window, summoning obscurity around the edges of the room. The light reflected from the water below into the window, causing silver-blue ripples to dance on the walls like an organised dance at midsummer.

He watched her gently stir, the breath of air that she took in as she awoke and how her lashes fluttered momentarily. She opened her eyes only to be greeted by more darkness, eyes yet to adjust to take in the dim light in the room. But (Y/n) could feel his cold hand holding hers and she brought it up to her chest, tucking it under her chin and closing her eyes again in thought. “Ezio. . .” She sighed, knowing it was him.

However, he withdrew his hand to light a candle and pass her a glass of water which she accepted gratefully.

He took it from her when she was finished and she pushed herself up to sit. She noticed that he reached forwards, hands ready to catch her or ease her back down if necessary. His eyes held worry for her and she didn’t fail to notice.

“Are you alright, mia bella?” He asked, having been reminded first-hand of how fragile mortality was.

She nodded her head, “It still hurts but it’s not as bad as when it happened.”

“Do you want something to eat?” She looked up eagerly to the orange that he offered her and she took it, uttering a ‘thank you’. She began to think as she peeled it.

“Why did you come back for me?” She asked as she reached over to drop the peel piece into the empty glass.

“Because you deserved a second chance. You were so out of your depth that the water was blinding you to what was truly at play.”

“Poetic.” She teased with a little smile as she pulled out the first segment. He chuckled.

“Really though, I knew that you had no idea what was going on. All you knew was that the Doge had something to hide and you had a vampire to kill, no?” She went silent for a moment before nodding her head, taking a bite of the fruit in her hand, “It was risky but I wanted you out of harm’s way. The Doge willingly put you in the crossfire to buy himself some time in this war and you had no clue. But you needed to see it for yourself to believe it and I’m sorry that it ended up like this.” He glanced down to where her legs were under the blanket, wrapped in bandages. He knew that she would have the scars for the rest of her life.

She glanced to the side, sighing. “I should have listened, you—“

“You don’t need to apologise. None of this was your fault.” He replied.

“But if I had met you at the church instead of planning that attack, all of this could have been avoided.” There was a pause, “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have trusted the Doge after everything I found out, I should have made up my mind for myself instead of allowing myself to be manipulated. I should’ve met you at that damn church.”

“(Y/n),” Somehow, the use of her name caught her attention far more than any of the various petnames she was used to hearinf spill from his scarred lips, “you’ve spent the majority of your life hating and hunting my kind, did you truly expect me to believe you when you agreed to meet me? You tried to kill me before that conversation and you thought I didn’t anticipate you gathering numbers against me?” She thought over his words, feeling rather silly when she thought about it.

“If you knew that I’ve spent so many years hating vampires, why are you still helping me?” She shrugged, “Wouldn’t it make more sense to kill me now and make sure I can’t turn on you again?”

He leaned back in his chair, tossing his head around a bit in thought as he crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs a little, clearly relaxing. “It would make more sense, yes-“ He agreed, “-but I don’t want you dead. I told you that I serve a higher cause as an Assassin and I stand by that. Besides, you hunting vampires doesn’t really come from hatred, it comes from guilt, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk about that, please.” She dropped the subject, not wishing to dwell on her lost sisters during a time in which she was supposed to be recovering.  She ate another piece of orange during the silence that fell over them.

When she finished the orange, he advised her to rest some more and she complied, settling down into the pillows and quickly drifting off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Ezio left through the window to where his new hideout was. He had work to do and things to prepare still, after all. (Y/n)’s recovery was important to him but the Doge had now escaped and time was of the essence.

[emptywithout]

The Way You Breathe (part 22)

Welcome Back

Word count:1036

Warnings: None

Wincest warnings: hugging, loving touches

There was a knock on the door. It startled Dean so much he nearly lost his balance. He was on his toes, kneeling down beside his brother. Sam was calm and still, his eyes closed. When he collapsed, Dean had placed him on the couch, kneeling beside him. It was mere seconds later that the knocking came.

Dean glanced at the door, then down the hallway. He put his hand on his waistband, ready to draw his weapon. Strangely, no one had woken up. Hunters have good ears, you see. Any slight noise would have woken them up. Did he imagine it?  Dean frowned, shaking his head, turning back to Sam.

The knocking became a pounding. Dean instantly stood up, grabbing for his gun. He unmistakably had heard this one. When still no one came from the hallway, Dean swallowed. This was clearly just for him.

Shaking slightly, gun pointed straight ahead, he yanked open the door. Standing there was the same demon that he had earlier pinned to the wall. He wore a simple suit and sunglasses, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

“What the fuck do you want,” Dean’s voice was gruff.

But the demon did not speak. He merely held out a white envelope and smirked, spitting his toothpick on the porch. Dean’s lips grew tight and his heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He closed his eyes very briefly, trying to steady himself. His palms now damp with nervous perspiration, he cautiously reached out and took the envelope. The demon immediately vanished.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, slamming the front door. He shoved his gun in his waistband and strode toward the living room.

Seconds later, all three hunters were running down the hallway, guns drawn, their expressions panicked.

“Guess what,” Dean growled, waving the white envelope in front of him.

**

Dean and the others had moved to where Sam was still unconscious on the couch. Bobby had brought each of them a tumbler of whiskey.

“Steadies the nerves,” he said, encouraging everyone to drink. They all did.

It took a while to describe the events of the morning, but Dean shared what he had seen on the hill, how powerful Sam looked. How deliberate his movements were. “He was simply – beautiful,” Dean said, looking down at his brother. Then he blushed when he realized his words.

“It’s ok Dean. Go on. It’s ok.” Jo offered. Dean nodded, grateful for his amazing family.

“I’ve never seen him like that before.” He sighed, playing with Sam’s soft hair.

Dean continued, explaining how he had turned and left him alone, only to hear him calling out moments later – and how he found him collapsed, bleeding, and how he had passed out in his arms. He sat by Sam’s head, stroking his hair the whole time he spoke.

“Wow,” breathed Jo, plopping back into the recliner. “That’s really intense, Dean.”

Bobby was looking at Sam, his eyes filled with sadness. He rested his hand on Sam’s head and patted it gently.

But Ellen just looked pissed. “If she’s dead, then what the hell is this?” she asked, holding tightly to the still sealed letter. Dean swallowed. He didn’t want to open it, but Ellen thrust it into his hands.

“Dunno. But let’s just get this over with.” Dean slowly tore open the envelope, and with trembling fingers unfolded the letter.

Dean,

Well kudos to you, kiddo. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. I’ll bet Sam is unconscious somewhere, too. Have you found him? You should keep an eye on him, because the next thing that’s gonna happen is Sam’s gonna unleash that spell I stored inside him. Oh, and if he was the one to kill me? Even better.

You see, I put a little resurrection spell inside your little brother. I won’t be gone for long, I promise. Sam’s a good vessel, he should be able to hold me for a long time.

You won’t be able to stop me now, Dean. Sam and I will be one. And then I will be powerful enough to rule Hell. Finally.

Just thought you should know, so you could have a chance to say goodbye. I’m not totally cruel. Which should be happening momentarily, if I did everything right.

And Dean? I’m fair, so I will tell you this. Only one thing could save your precious Sam. Only one.

The truth. You have to tell him the truth. About what you did. Back oh so many years ago. I know you’ve never told him. Because it would have weakened him. Killed his soul just enough that I wouldn’t be able to ride him. But I know you never will. You could never tell him what you did. It would kill you. Sam would hate you.

So ha! I win again, Dean-o.

You don’t have the balls.

See you soon…

Ruby.

 All eyes moved to Sam. Dean began to tremble. Ellen came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She gave a quick, reassuring kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be alright Dean.”

“How…can she really…I don’t –“Dean began, but stopped as Sam started to squirm on the couch. He sat up slowly, grabbing his side as he winced in pain.

“Dean? What happened? What did – “ Dean leapt forward, pulling out of Ellen’s grip.

“Oh Sammy. Thank god. Thank god. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you again. I love you, I can’t –“

Sam wrapped his arms tighter around his brother. He seemed confused and scared. The boys just held each other, while Jo and Ellen hugged, relieved that Sam was back. Bobby stood, still wary of the whole situation. It seemed too good to be true. “Dean.” He warned, his voice gentle.

Dean pulled back, looking into Sammy’s eyes. They were terrified. Sam’s lips trembled. Dean turned back to Bobby, reassuring him. “Bobby, it’s ok. It’s Sam. It’s fine, we –“ Dean flinched as the grip on his shoulder turned painful.

“Dean?” Bobby asked as grabbed for his knife. Dean looked back into his brother’s eyes. His beautiful kaleidoscope eyes. Sam blinked slowly. They flashed silver.

“Too late,” Sam said with a grin.

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[queen-of-deans-booty]

What’s The Worse That Could Happen?

Characters: Reader, Castiel, Sam, and Dean

Word Count: 1,345

Warnings: smoking marijuana, other than that, just fluff/crack

Request: Hey!! Can you write an imagine where the reader is kind of a stoner and makes Cas smoking weed for the first time? I know it's kind of a weird request but i think it could be funny to read!! If you don't feel like doing it it's totally okay:)

Author’s Note: I tried my best with this one. I don’t smoke so I hope I portrayed this well enough. As always, please, send in requests because I love reading them and I love writing them! If you would like to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know and I’ll add you!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Being a Hunter meant having a shit ton of stress. Having a shit ton of stress meant you needed some way to relax or vent that pent-up energy. Luckily for you, you had a way to relax.

It wasn't like how most people relaxed (and by most, you meant Hunters). You were kind of a stoner before you met Sam and Deana be you weren't going to give that up. Smoking was your way of relaxing and forgetting about the world. Sam and Dean never smoked even though Dean says Sam did once in college.

No, Sam and Dean weren't the type of men to smoke. They didn't care if you did but you couldn't be in the Bunker while doing it. That is why you were outside, sitting on a tree stump, letting your mind free.

"What are you doing?" You looked up and saw a confused Angel standing next to you.

"Relaxing." You simply stated, taking a puff.

"How is that relaxing? I can see what that is doing to your lungs. It's not healthy." Cas said, taking a step closer.

"I know but this is my way of relaxing. Sam and Dean would never try this but you could, if you want. I promise, one puff and you'll love it." You grinned, holding out your hand with the joint.

"Y/N, did you not hear me? That is bad for you." Cas said, taking a seat next to you.

"Come on, what's this going to do to an Angel?" You asked, raising your eyebrow at him. Cas looked at your eyes and to the joint, biting his lip. He didn't answer for a while and you shrugged.

"It's just a question, Cas. You can say no." You took a long puff, held it in, and let go when you were ready. You could already start to feel your muscles unwind.

"What does it taste like?" He asked, studying you.

"Weed doesn't really have a taste to it. I don't prefer joints but this is all I had with me. This is more like burnt weed and paper. My favorite is vaping since I think it's the more freshest out of all your options." You explained.

"What are the options?" He asked. He was so concentrated and serious. You almost laughed at this but remembered that Cas was just trying to learn.

"There is a joint, which I have now, a pipe, a bong or vape. Everything gets you to be relaxed and shit but they all "taste" different." You looked at him.

"Well, I am an Angel and I suppose doing it once won't hurt..." Cas said, wanting to try it and learn new information. You grinned and handed him the joint, watching his delicious lips close around the end of it. He breathed in too quickly and coughed, the smoke coming out of his mouth in a messy cloud.

"Cas, be more gentle. Take slow breaths." You giggled, watching the Angel try to take a hit. He nodded and tried it one more time, doing as you instructed. He gave you the joint back and let out the smoke after a few seconds of holding it in. This time, he didn't cough.

"There you go." You giggled. You took another long hit and slid down to the ground, leaning against the tree stump. Cas grabbed the joint out of your hand and took another hit. He must have liked it if he was wanting to keep trying it. This is what you and him did for the next hour. When you were all out of marijuana, you stepped on what was left of the joint into the ground.

"Cas, is the S or C silent in the word scent?" You asked him, giggling loudly. Your eyes were so red because you were so high but you were happy and felt relaxed.

"I'll ask my father when I see him." Cas said, smiling like an idiot.

"Do you think sand is called sand because it's between the sea and the land?" You asked, your mind jumbling with thoughts you normally wouldn't think of.

"You are asking all the right questions right now. I have one now." Cas said, his normally beautiful blue eyes were now outlined with red.

"Okay, okay, you go. Go." You giggled.

"How come your nose runs but your feet smell?" He asked, looking momentarily serious before giggling.

"Wait, that is really strange. We should ask Sam that. He's always running." You laughed loudly, trying to get up. Your muscles were relaxed but you managed to pull yourself onto your feet. Cas got up a bit easier since the effect was wearing off faster since he was an Angel and you were a human.

"We should go inside. Sam and Dean are probably worried about us." You knew that for sure even if you were high. You giggled and walked to the Bunker, Cas was the one to open the door. You stumbled inside, laughing as you hit the railing.

"Have you been smoking that shit all night?" You looked down and saw Dean and Sam scowling at you.

"Hell yeah! Cas got some too!" You grinned and looked behind you at Cas. The door slammed shut and he turned to it, shushing it. You gripped the railing as you walked down, careful not to trip. When you got to Sam and Dean, you flung yourself at Dean.

"Shit, sweetheart, you reek of it." Dean caught you easily.

"Yo, if you think about it... there are more nipples in the world than there are people. See?" You lifted your shirt and flashed the three men. "I have nipples!"

"Whoa." Dean said, looking at your chest.

"Dean!" Sam scolded his brother, pulling your shirt down. You giggled, leaning against the tall giant.

"Damn, you're so tall. We're you this tall when you were born? Damn, Mary would have had a hard time getting you out of..."

"Stop. Hey, let's get you to bed." Sam said, effectively cutting you off. You looked over at Cas and saw his eyes shine a bright blue and all the effects of the weed left his body and he was now sober again.

"I'm sorry, Sam and Dean, she asked me to try." Cas said, apologizing for his actions.

"It's okay, Cas, you do what you want." Dean said, shrugging.

"I'm hungry..." you got out of Sam's grasp and you walked to the kitchen, frowning when you saw the refrigerator. "Why is there a D in fridge but not in refrigerator?" You shrugged and walked to the fridge, taking out some cold pizza.

"Y/N, that isn't healthy." You looked at Sam and shrugged.

"You're not healthy." You said. You ate the pizza and gasped when you saw marshmallows. You set the unfinished pizza on the table and opened the bag of marshmallows, stuffing a lot into your face.

"Y/N, sweetheart, we should get you to bed." Dean said, entering the room.

"But I don't want to go to bed." You whined, trying to get away from the three men. Dean easily caught you and you whined some more. He lifted you up bridal style and you were so dead weight, lying limp in his arms.

"Sweetheart, come on, you have to help me out here." You whined and struggled, trying to get out of his arms. He struggled to hold you up and you struggled to get out. You didn't care if you dropped on the ground.

You screamed when you were suddenly dropped, hitting the bed. It was only a few feet of a drop but it felt like 50. Maybe you did need sleep.

"Oh, Dean, I didn't think you liked me that way." You grinned when Dean started undressing you.

"You can't sleep in these clothes." Dean said, peeling off your pants. He took your shirt off and decided to leave your bra and panties on.

"But I'm not tired." You complained, snuggling into the bed.

"Goodnight, Sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head and left the room, already hearing your snores.

Masterlist

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