#HOW AWKWARD. TO BE HUNTED BY A VAMPIRE AND HAVE NO INJURIES BUT YOUR DAMN PERIOD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

therewasatale · 3 years ago

Text

for I have sinned

On Ao3.

Summary: Alucard likes to mess with other priests, not just with Anderson.

Note: Maybe I'll write a second part. It's on your choice. Does anyone want a chapter two for this?

The morning sun's dazzling light shone through the window, the light was only amplified by the clean white wall. The shadows were forced to retreat into the corners of the room waiting for their time to come.

And yet it wasn’t the strength of the light that wake Father Anderson up, it was the warmth of the rays. He awoke with a pleasant sensation, or at least a much more pleasant one, than the one he had gone to sleep with.

He allowed himself to stretch lazily. His shoulders cracked with a satisfying sound, and they were soon followed by the joints of his legs. Finally, there was no burning sensation, aches, or throbbing inside him. He turned around carefully on the shaky bed. Every wound he got from last night's hunt were already healed thanks to his regeneration.

Reaching down carefully, he ran his fingers along the ragged edges of his cassocks. He found more than a couple bullet holes. On his trousers there was a dark, yet still distinctly red stain from dried blood. He had to get new clothes. Unfortunately, he was sure that he would not be able to change into anything else. His temporary accommodation, a smaller Catholic church housed a priest who was at least three heads smaller than him.

Luckily, the car will arrive soon, which will take him to the nearest plane. And there was always a change of clothes waiting for him on those. He just had to leave unobtrusively, as Maxwell used to say a long time ago, trying to be witty.

As he got out from the bed, he glanced out the window. There was a tidy little garden outside, it contained two chestnut trees. Thanks to being around late spring, they were full of white flowers. The priest remembered his home, where similar trees grew in the much larger garden of the orphanage. Those must be blooming by now too.

He missed his home, sooner or later he became homesick on every one of his missions. But there were things only he could do, and he always made sure he could return home again.

Closing his eyes, he slowly rubbed his face. It was time to leave.

Before heading out he took one last look outside. Beyond the ornately decorated fence, people walked the streets, focusing on their own thoughts, most of them looked at their phone. None of them suspected that there was a priest watching them, a priest who was officially declared dead 50 years ago. That was the same day he reborn, in a way.

Anderson was about to leave, but along the fence he saw a figure making his way towards the church, he was wearing a long red coat.

The priest froze in his movements.

The figure's footsteps slowed down a bit. His crimson eyes were clearly visible, as he looked not just at the church, but directly at him. Anderson felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck, but before he could do anything, the vampire walked away.

He knew full well that that damned vampire should have left the town long ago. He himself got back at the church at around three o'clock in the morning, after they finished off the vampire and almost finished off each other. Unfortunately, local police put an end to their deadly dance.

Anderson's hands trembled. That bloodsucker should have been with his master a long time ago.

It took a few moments for him to calmed down a bit. Whenever he was near the vampire, there was always a kind of tension in his blood. He didn’t know where it came from, but it helped him focus on the bloodsucker with each of his senses, so he relied on it more and more. And the mysterious tension rewarded him for it because he felt the movements of his nemesis grew more predictable with each time. Despite him thinking only a couple of months ago that he was just a monster fighting on instinct, he turned out to be so much more.

Adjusting his coat, he opened the door of his room. He got around the building, heading for the main entrance, taking bigger steps than necessary. The rays of the sun made the white paint shine as it towered over the ground. As he passed the wall, nearby laughter of children reached his ear. If he remembered correctly, the school belonging to the church was just a few blocks away. The spring sun continued to warm his dark coat, in other occasions he might have enjoyed this quiet morning.

The giant doors of the church were wide open. Approaching them was enough to feel the cool air flowing out from inside of the building. A chill ran down on his arm and he instinctively pulled his torn coat closer to himself. His footsteps echoed as he passed between the rows of benches.

"Morning." His throat felt dry, and he needed to swallow.

"Hm? Oh, good morning, Father Anderson...It's indeed a good morning. I mean the weather is lovely." Father Saw sat on the very first bench, his eyes fixed on the altar even as Anderson stepped beside him. "How did you sleep?" The man could not be more than 40. His thin, lean figure was clothed in priestly reverend. The black formal somehow made him look even thinner than he actually was. In his auburn hair one could already see a couple of graying hair.

"Good." The iscariot carried ran gaze throughout the building. Tidy, clean, welcoming, these words came to his mind. He found the place more than adequate. Father Saw kept the house of God and the flock of God in order. Anderson felt some satisfaction. He opened his mouth to speak again but the other man was faster.

"Tell me, Father Anderson. I don’t want to be indiscreet, but do you happen to know a tall man in a red coat? He looks to be around his mid-30s. Quiet a striking looking man with long black hair."

Anderson's body tensed up for the second time in the day. For a few moments, he could see the shape of the vampire and its glowing eyes clearly in front of him.

"Why are you asking?"

There was a brief silence in the church. The only thing that can be heard was the faint o laughter of children filtering through the walls. Then a bell rang in the distance, signaling the beginning of their class.

"Father Saw?"

The man cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered off a little." He turned his dark brown eyes towards Anderson for the first time, those eyes were hiding something. When he spoke again, his gaze turned towards the altar again. "Just out of curiosity. You could say that at least... The young man was here this morning, after the morning mass." Father Saw nodded, mostly to himself.

"What did he want?"

"Well, your friend-"

"He's not my friend."

"Oh, then, you partner, perhaps?"

"Not my partner either. Why did he come here? What did he want?"

"He came to the church to make a confession."

Anderson expected all sorts of answers, just not that. "Make a confession?"

"Oh yes."

"That bloodth-" He bit the sentence before it could be continued. "That bloody…man...came here? To confess?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

Father Saw looked up at him tellingly. "It remains between us and the Lord. It's after all His business."

Anderson's mouth twitched a little, but he knew it wouldn’t be any use to insist. He forced himself to nod slowly.

"I see. The point is, I know that person. At least since last year. Sometimes we meet, I think the Lord sets him in my way as a test of sorts."

"Now-now, Father Anderson, remember that everything is going according to His plans." Father Saw smiled faintly.

Anderson raised his eyes towards the sky. This was undeniably so.

"He seemed like an interesting, person." Father Saw could clearly recall the image of the figure. He could see him passing between the last row of benches after stepping out of the booth. He smiled back at the priest, eyes that glistening crimson. It must have only been the trick of the light, that the priest assured himself again.

"So he confessed his sins. I would assume not all of them."

Fater Saw sighed slowly, not really knowing what to say. So, he did what he usually does when the situation becomes too awkward. He skirted around the topic and started on another.

"Well, he did a confession but first he asked about you. I think he was worried about you, Father Anderson."

He had to swallow a snort back and just nodded.

"He was worried about me, well, he didn't need to, the important thing is that he left and he won't return." Anderson muttered. The thought itself that a vampire dared to step into the house of God, was infuriating. And between two growls, he tried to ignore the tiny yet existing part of his self that was curious about what the vampire exactly confessed. "Anyway, thank you for allowing me to stay in the church. Now it's time for me to leave, if I'm not mistaken my car has already arrived."

Father Saw's let his shoulders sag a little. He hasn’t even noticed how tense they became during the morning.

"You're welcome, Father Anderson. Thank you for visiting to help us." Even if I don’t really know what was that you actually helped with. But the bloodstained trouser leg and the bullet-torned clothes were pretty convincing for me to not ask too many questions. Thought the younger priest. "Have a nice trip home, Father Anderson."

"Yes, thank you." The Iscariot glanced around the building once more. His eyes settled in the confessional booth for a moment. Then sinking deep into his thoughts and headed towards the main entrance.

After Father Saw was left alone, he slowly rubbed his face and sighed deeply. He had eventful days behind him. First the child disappearances, then Father Anderson, whose arrival was announced only a day before by the bishop. Blood and injuries, and that man returned at dawn. And to top it off, that strange man and his confession.

He couldn't say anything because of his oath. Though it wasn't as if he had been able to say anything to Anderson anyway.

For years he had already listened to many kinds of secrets and sins and absolved many kinds of people. But there were still things that were able to shake and confuse him completely.

'Every time I see him my blood feels like fire, and I can't focus on anything else. He makes me feel things I forgot about a long time ago. '

Father Saw squeezed the bridge of his nose. It will be a long time before he could get rid of those memories. He could still hear the man's voice, which sounded so deep one could hardly believe it belonged to a mortal.

'I know it's bad, father. But I want to make him mine. I want to taste every part of his body and make him cry out from pleasure. And I want to make him beg for more and the best part is that I would give it to him. '

He didn't even know the man's name, nor did he know where he had come from and why and how a Catholic priest would associate with someone like him. What kind of people were those two? And how did they appear here as if out of nowhere. Even more importantly, did he want to know the answer?

He needed to get outside for a breath of fresh air. Decided Father Saw as he rose from the bench. He needed a change pf pace.

'Maybe one day, he will be mine, but until then I can only just watch and dream, father. Maybe it's a bad thing, but I can't change it. I just want him. '

He stood up a bit shakily and slowly crossed himself.

The next day

Anderson opened the door into the ornate office, inside everything seemed garish to him. He took a short glance towards the huge painting, taking up the entirety of one of the walls. Nothing has changed since he left. Part of him was a bit disappointed, he always hoped that Maxwell would one day realize that this opulence was tasteless and did nothing to help his work. He once tried to point this out, but his former disciple said the room was decorated like this for a long time. He also stated that the painting that Anderson despised the most, was a gift.

Now, sitting at his desk, the bishop ran his eyes down a sheet of paper and rubbed his forehead.

"Is everything all right, Father Anderson?"

"Yes, everything is all right." He replied succinctly as he walked closer to him. "Why did you call me, Maxwell?"

The bishop's mouth twitched a little. Almost every time he needed to remind Anderson to call him according to his rank. But for once he decided to overlook this.

"If everything went well, what is the reason for Father Saw submitting the request to the local bishop to be reassigned to another region?"

Anderson shrugged honestly, so Maxwell continued.

"This is the fourth time, Anderson. The fourth time you and that vampire will show up and within a few days the local priest request to be transferred." A sheet of paper was put into a smaller pile. Maxwell folded his hands into his lap and looked straight into his teacher's eyes, the priest stood his gaze.

"What do you mean, it's the fourth time?"

"For the fourth time. In two months. Even a Protestant would notice the fact that there is a pattern to this thing. I just want to know why the pattern exist so we can pay attention to it in the future."

"What did they say?"

Maxwell didn't even have to glance at the page. "Overall, they feel like they can't serve God enough in their current place. Their flock became too big, and they want to be in a quieter place." The bishop shook his head. "So? What can you tell me about these four cases? I know you finished the vampire, and I also know you ran into Hellsing's dog. But maybe something else happened too?" He slowly looked the man in front of him up and down.

Anderson glanced towards painting. The angels circled the saint in the middle, who reached towards the sky with an almost cathartic smile. In the bottom of the picture people were bathing in blood, their faces reflecting pure pain. The father could not stand this painting. The features of the figure in the middle, resembled Maxwell too much.

"Father Anderson?"

He answered after a moment's silence. "I don't know. I think they were just shaken by the deaths. They would not be the first or the last to ask for reassignment after a tragedy. Very few have to deal with literal monsters in their lives."

"Well, if I have to stand before the pope with that as an answer, so be it." Seeing Anderson's gaze, he lowered the self-sacrificing edge in his voice. "Thank you for visiting me. That would be it."

The priest glanced at the picture once again.

"You can go, Anderson."

"All right." He walked slowly towards the door, then turned back with his hand on the handle. "Sometimes get out of there, Maxwell. This place is," he continued after some thought. "You spend too much time indoors. And try to eat properly."

Maxwell couldn't hide his embarrassment, which made him feel warm at first and then anger mixed with some pride, but when he spoke, he tried to completely suppress the latter in his voice. "I'll think about it, Father. But I'm very busy these days, but I'll see what can I do."

The young man nodded slowly.

Anderson's mouth trembled, then he walked out of the office, leaving Maxwell behind. The bishop glanced at the painting and did not even notice the satisfied smile that appeared on his lips.

For once, the basement was not in complete darkness. And this was also one of those rare occasions when the vampire didn’t spend all his time shut in there.

"If you had seen the face of that priest, Walter!" Alucard laughed sincerely, holding his glass towards the butler. "And his voice. It became just as high pitch as the others when they realized what we were going to talk about. Or what kind of sins they needed to absolve me from."

"I can only guess what kind of horror he had to go through thanks to you." He filled the glass of wine and then sipped a little from his own cup, with a small smile playing on his lips. "How many priests was blessed with the chance to gain insight into your worries?"

"This was the fourth." The vampire grinned contentedly. "I have almost forgotten how refreshing it can be when a man is freed from the burdens of his soul." He drank slowly from the wine. "A fraction of them at least."

"Refreshing? You mean fun." Walter glanced at him and crossed his legs. He was sitting across Alucard in a comfortable armchair that had been recently brought down into the basement.

"Combining the pleasant with the useful?"

The butler snorted and then chuckled under his nose. "I don't even want to know what exactly you said to that poor soul."

Alucard's grin widened, his eyes gleamed brightly as he remembered back to yesterday morning. Even now he could clearly recall the stuttering voice of the priest. He was just as shocked as the three others when he entered the confession booth. But he had to admit, so far all four had endured and none of them fled from him.

"I wonder where you got this idea from?" Walter shook his head with a smile.

"Actually, we owe it all to Anderson. He was the one who told me a few months ago, during one of our hunts, that a monster of my own kind would never be able to cleanse itself of its sins. Even if I apologized all my life."

"And of course, you took that as a challenge."

Alucard chuckled deeply. "I took it as a good advice, Walter, good a good advice from a good friend."

"A good friend, I see." He put his cup back on the tray.

"In the beginning, I just wanted to upset a priest. But since then, more and more new things have appeared in mind, and whenever I confess, I think it will be the last one. But it never is."

"Oh, I wonder why that is."

Alucard raised an eyebrow at the butler but received only a small chuckle in response.

"Either way, I'm glad you managed to get yourself something to occupy your time. Of course, in addition to constantly upsetting Anderson and provoking every meeting of you two into a battle."

"Not every meeting." Corrected it, a little maybe arbitrary, Alucard.

"Oh?" Walter chuckled as the vampire just snorted. "Still, try teaching Seras something more useful over time if possible."

"As soon as she starts consuming blood properly." Alucard waved it off. "What?" He raised an eyebrow as he caught the look in Walter's eye.

"Nothing." The butler shook his head and stood up picking up his tray. "But it's time for me to go, the dinner won't serve itself."

Alucard finished his glass, murmuring slightly. "Always on duty."

"Well, not everyone is lucky enough to have fun at work." Walter left the basement with a telling smile. "Have another nice night, Alucard."

"Hm," the vampire refilled his glass, then began to swirl it around slowly, watching the red liquid splash around the edge of it.

The passage of time was hard to tell inside the cellar, at least for an average person. Alucard could feel it without mistake when the day turned to night, or the breaking of dawn. However, he hasn’t really bothered with the passage of time since long ago. He could afford his thoughts to roam freely.

'Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.'

Alucard still had to laugh. He doesn't need forgiveness, hell, he would never ask for it. But what would he say if Anderson would offer him forgiveness? How would he react? How soon would he stab the bayonet through the wall of the confessional? Or what if he would just listen? And if he could sit through it all? After all, he is still a priest, a bloodthirsty, fiery, and fighting priest.

The vampire's eyes flared up with an even more vivid red. His excitement was similar to when he fought with Anderson, be it side by side or against each other.

He drank slowly from his glass.

Maybe...there could be a way.

He placed his empty glass on his desk. Then, he got up from his chair and walked through the walls into the garden. Outside, he looked up at the clear sky and smiled at the silvery light of the moon. It was really beautiful today, - The thought ran through his mind. -, almost as much as Anderson’s eyes when he is fighting.

He paused for a moment.

"Well," he chuckled deeply. It seemed that even his own thoughts could surprise him from time to time. Well, he had a lot to think about.

#hellsing #hellsing fanfiction #alucard x anderson #alucard #alucard hellsing #alucard fanfiction #alexander anderson #father anderson #andercard #copper

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samwinchestersgf · 4 years ago

Text

guardian angel

requested by: anonymous

request: Could you write something with Gabriel being the guardian angel of Sam and Dean's little sister?

summary: sam and dean’s younger sister is a klutz. after cracking under the pressure of living up to her brothers’ reputation, gabriel, her guardian archangel, makes her feel better.

warnings: mild language. angst. gabriel being a turd bucket, and then being a sweetheart. fluff.

i sit around the big map table in the bunker with sam and dean. with my arms crossed, i lean back in my chair. damn, they’re insufferable at times, but, this time is worse than ever before.

“what do you mean i can’t come on the hunt with you?” i ask, outraged.

“i mean exactly what i said, y/n.” dean’s voice raises, daring me to top it.

i match his volume. “why can’t i come?!”

“because i said so, okay?” he gets up to his feet. he’s louder than me, and bigger than me. he always has been.

“this is some misogynistic bullshit.” i bring my tone up the slightest.

this really pisses him off. “i am not a misogynist for wanting to keep my little sister safe. sorry, that’s not how it works.”

“i’d be safe on the hunt!” i look over at sam for back up. he’s always been the more reasonable one.

he shrugs his shoulders and mouths the word, ‘sorry.’

“when have i ever not been safe on a hunt?!” i retry my approach.

“just about every damn time!” his voice booms through the bunker, ricocheting off the walls.

“i’ve never gotten hurt!” i look back over to sam, my eyes begging him to stand up for me.

“maybe you’ve never gotten that hurt... but you are super clumsy.” his voice is low and quiet compared to mine and dean’s.

“see, i’ve never gotten that hurt, just like, scratches and stuff.” i give him a smug look.

“you fall around so much, there’s a chance that this time could be the time that you get seriously hurt.” sam’s sympathetic with me, trying to get me to calm down.

sam has always been the level-headed sibling. he’s always the mediator. even when we were younger, the only person he’d argue with was dad, and he didn’t get the balls to do that until he was older. still, he’s 6 years older than me and has made it his personal duty to protect me. he enjoys playing the role that dean always got to play when we were little.

dean and i, though, are always at each other’s throats. it not that we don’t get along, because we do, but we both inherited our father’s stubbornness, whereas sam was blessed with mary’s mediating abilities. dean’s a whole decade older than me, so he thinks he’s all tough.

“i can take care of myself,” i reroute the conversation. i find myself saying that line a lot.

“when dad died, he made it my responsibility to take care of you and i’m not gonna let you go out and get hurt.” dean spits.

when dean brings up dad, out of respect, he knows that i’ll do what he says. that’s why he doesn’t bring him up very often. i lean backwards in my chair quickly, but too harshly. the chair goes flying down to the ground.

i close my eyes and prepare for impact, but it never comes. i feel myself being pushed up and back to the chair’s neutral position. my brothers look confused, and so do i.

“did you...?” my voice trails off, looking at dean.

“my reflexes are quick, but not that quick.” he shakes his head. “but, see? you’re clumsy.”

“dean, can i at least pr-“

“you’re not coming. i’m serious.” he says sternly.

“sam?” i turn to him, pleading with my eyes.

“sorry, y/n.”

i huff and push my hair away from the table, standing up. “fine. i’ll go to my room and be useless.”

as i whip around, my elbow bumps into the chair, which goes tumbling to the ground, charting course to land right on my feet. but, i’m yanked backwards, away from the chair.

“ow!” i yelp at the grip on my waist. “dean!”

“that’s wasn’t me.” he throws his hands up.

“seriously? i’m not stupid.” i gripe.

“it really wasn’t him.” sam confirms.

irked, i shrug it off. “whatever.”

i walk to my room and flop on the bed. what a lousy day. apparently i’m too clumsy for anything. frustration bubbles up in me. when are they gonna stop treating me like a little kid? i’m 25 years old.

i grip my pillow in my hands. stupid brothers. stupid hunting monsters. stupid clumsy feet. stupid everything. it’s not fun being the weakest link.

i groan and chuck my pillow across the room, but it stops midair. i blink, “what the fuck.”

i grab the gun from my bed side table, and when i turn back around, the pillow is gone. i stand up at the foot of my bed, holding the gun ready. something weird is going on.

something that feels a lot like my pillow smacks me in the back of the head. i turn around and point the gun at the wall. there’s nothing there. i let out a deep, shaky breath.

suddenly, my pillow is being held to my face from someone behind me. i let out a scream, and the pillow immediately falls to the ground. i turn around and with a sweep of my feet, knock the intruder to the ground. i stomp on their leg and cock my gun, pointing it at their head.

“who the hell- gabriel?”

footsteps pound down the hallway. it’s no doubt sam and dean, alerted by my scream. i look at him, absolutely confused.

“call off your attack dogs and then we’ll talk.” he says before disappearing again.

sam and dean burst through the door. dean is the first to speak, “what happened?!”

“there was a snake!” i lie. “he slithered back into the wall.”

“you scared us, y/n.” sam relaxed.

“well, the snake scared me.” i half-apologize.

they roll their eyes and leave. i shut the door behind them and cross my arms at gabriel, who has reappeared, but this time on his feet.

“why did you try to suffocate me with my pillow?” i whisper.

“just having some fun, darlin.” he smiles.

i’m not amused. “why are you here?”

“well, if you haven’t noticed, you’re a little clumsy.” he teases.

“if you’re just gonna bash me for it, you can leave.” i warn, aggravated.

“that’s not why i’m here. although, it is super funny.” he smirks.

“i will scream.”

“fine, fine. i’m your guardian angel, or whatever.” gabriel admits.

“my what?” i raise an eyebrow.

“all those times you should’ve gotten hurt out there, but didn’t? that was me.” he comes clean.

“so, you’re the prick that bruised my waist from grabbing me so hard.” i roll my eyes.

“i’m the prick that stopped you from breaking your toe.” he sasses. “let see the bruises.”

“gabriel, no-“

“seriously, let me see. i’m not supposed to let you get hurt.” he demands.

“it’s just some bruises.” i counter.

“that’s still an injury.” he points out.

i reluctantly lift my shirt up to my ribcage and hold it there, allowing him to look at the purple bruises he left. it’s an awkward moment, for sure. his eyes linger there for what seems like forever. i clear my throat, and he snaps out of it and walks toward me.

i let my shirt drop to it’s neutral position and back up, “what are you doing?”

“healing you.” he states.

“gabriel, it’s literally just a few bruises.” i screw up my face.

“it’s bruised down to the bone.” he informs me.

“what the hell?!” i lift my shirt up slightly and look at the bruises again. “all you did was grab me!”

“i’m an archangel, sweetie. we’re rough.” he winks.

“ew.” i throw my pillow at him.

“seriously, c’mere.” he beckons me toward him.

i roll my eyes and walk toward him, holding my shirt up. his large hands grip my waist, sending jolts of butterflies through my stomach. light radiates from his fingertips, and when he pulls away, the bruises are gone.

i gingerly press on my side, and there’s no pain at all. i look back up at gabriel, who is inches away from me. my face flushes red and i clear my throat, taking a step back.

“thank you.” i swallow.

“you’re welcome.” he nods.

dean’s shouts echo through the bunker. “we’re leaving now! remember to stay inside and call jody is you need anything.”

“gabriel?” i smirk.

“what?”

“you might have to protect me from my brother’s fists.” i grin.

“what? kid, don’t make my job harder. y/n-“

i take off towards the garage, taking a short cut, and hop in one of our spare cars. it’s a pickup truck. i sink low into the seat so the boys won’t see me. i hear them as they walk into the garage.

“i kind of feel bad, dean.” i hear sam say as they approach their car. “she really wanted to come.”

“so? she’ll be fine.” he shrugs.

“she’s upset.” sam reasons.

“and she’ll get over it. should we take the truck?” he asks. my body tenses up. oh god, please don’t take the truck.

“it’s too cramped in there.” sam shakes his head.

“you’re right.”

the door to the impala closes and i watch as they drive off. gabriel pops into the passenger’s seat beside me.

“this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. they’re gonna kill you.” he tells me.

“good thing i have a guardian angel.” i smile cheesily.

i speed off after them and follow them through the twisting roads. i wonder if they’re suspicious of me. they probably are. they’ve probably already recognized the car.

my phone rings, making me jump. i pick up. “hello?”

“is everything okay at home?” sam’s voice asks through the phone.

“yep. hey, where you guys even going?” i ask.

he sighs, “a vampire hunt. it’s not too far, but stay home. we should be back soon.”

“fine. bye, sam.” i hang up the phone. “ready to watch me kill some bloodsuckers, gabe?”

“y/n, you should go home.” he leans back in the seat.

“if you say that again i’ll make your job even harder by crashing the car.” i joke.

he scoffs. “seriously, go home.”

“listen, i don’t even need a guardian angel in the first place, much less another person bossing me around.” my tone becomes serious.

“you do need a guardian angel.” he rolls his eyes. “you’d be dead by now without me.”

“bullshit. i don’t need- or want a guardian angel. so, go away.” i huff.

“y/n, c’mon-“

“go away and stop guarding me, gabriel.” i demand.

he sighs. “fine.”

he disappears and i slam on my steering wheel. i watch as sam and dean pull into a warehouse. i wait until they walk into the building to park and get out. i walk up behind them and tap them on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin on my face.

“y/n, what the hell?” dean whisper shouts. “get out!”

“i’m here to help, there’s no reason in sending me home now.” i smile.

“i’m killing you when we get home.” he groans as vampires come running towards us.

i take my machete and start slinging, one by one demolishing the nest by cutting their heads off. i get carried away. i’m doing really good!

a pair of fangs plunge into my neck and start sucking. a sharp pain coarses through my body. i scream and writhe under their touch. i feel the blood flowing out of my neck and into their mouth, but i’m utterly helpless.

i’m pushed to the ground, away from the vampire. i look up and watch as gabriel decapitates him. he looks down at me, his face saying all i need to know. if he were to speak right now, he would say- “i told you so.”

he quickly leans down and presses two fingers to my neck, healing my injury, and then vanishes into thin air. sam and dean come running over to my side.

“are you okay?” sam asks.

“did it hurt you?” his voice is threatening.

“no, i killed him.” i lie. “i just fell.”

dean is furious with me, so he drives home alone, while sam accompanies me in the truck. after a few minutes of driving, he turns to me with a smile on his face.

“you faired pretty well.” he’s full of pride.

i know i really didn’t, and i’d probably be dead if it weren’t for gabriel. “i know.”

back at the bunker, i sit on my bed, hugging mh pillow. i was raised by one of the best hunters ever, and i suck at hunting. i’ve had every resource i could imagine to get better, and all the experience i could have, and i still suck.

i cry. the hot tears stream down my face. i’m really not good at anything, am i? i’m the worst winchester. i can’t do anything. i need a guardian angel to save my life because i can’t even handle myself with a dumb vampires nest. sam and dean were right; gabriel was right; everyone was right about me.

the bed dips a little in the corner. i look up and see gabriel sitting there, watching me. i sniff and wipe the tears away, trying (and failing) to cover up the fact that i’m upset.

“you’ve gotten stop surprising me like that.” i force a laugh.

“i’m always watching, y/n. i know you’re crying.” he’s sympathetic, but i don’t want him to be.

i deflect. “always watching? that’s creepy.”

“a little, but enjoy the show.” he laughs.

“ew, gabe.” i crinkle up my nose.

“why are you crying?” he asks, getting back on topic.

“do we really have to talk about this?” i groan.

“well, i am your guardian angel.” he shrugs.

“i’m not hurt.”

he adds, “physically.”

“it’s a story for another time,” i sniff.

“no, no. now.” he corrects.

i roll my eyes and hesitate. “i’m the worst winchester.”

“you’re all pretty insufferable, and stubborn.” he waves a dismissive hand.

“gee, thanks, but, thats not what i mean.” i press my lips into a grimace. “i can’t hunt. i need a stupid guardian angel to watch over me so i don’t die. i’m not good at anything.”

“i bet you’re good at something.” he reasons.

“nope.” i shake my head.

“hm...” his eyes flicker down to my mouth. my breath hitches.

he leans in, before i could even protest (if i wanted to), and kisses me. gabriel, the archangel, kisses me. my hands work through his hair momentarily before he pulls away.

he breaths, “you’re good at that.”

my face flushes red. maybe i do need a guardian angel.

#supernatural #supernatural imagines #supernatural fanfiction #gabriel #gabriel x reader #gabriel imagine #sam winchester #dean winchester #gabriel x you #gabriel archangel

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

I loved writing this idea, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Thanks for requesting @jawline-of-steel !💛💛

You Wanted To Talk To Me?

Edgar Frog x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: this is heavily referenced to my other series, Only Traitors Consort With The Damned, which you can find on the masterlist.

Masterlist

"Man, just talk to her." Alan rolls his eyes as they stumble through the training course together, wet mud slicking their trousers and shirt fronts, hair and clothes soaked through from the pelting rain, bodies trembling from how hard they've been working.

"Talk to who?" Edgar responds, playing dumb as they throw themselves at a climbing wall, chests smashing painfully into the solid surface.

Neither if them speak for a minute as they haul themselves upwards, cresting the wall with some difficulty as their leaden arms struggle to hold their weight, their muscles screaming in protest, though they both manage it. From the top, the rest of the course is visible, a few other cadets just ahead of them, each of the pairs released from the starting point in "waves" so that they can be timed. Both of the boys sigh out audibly as they take in the view, not taking too much time as they swiftly climb to their feet and leap from the top, reaching for the heavy ropes hanging from a structure across from them, the rough material grazing their hands painfully as they slip down it a little. Ignoring the discomfort, they swing their legs in time with the momentum of the rope and kick off it, landing on a far platform, rolling as they land, ending up face first in yet more dirt, signifying the beginning of a net crawl.

"You know who I mean, Edgar. (Y/n)! You should talk to her." Alan manages to explain, voice strained from the exertion required to pull his body through thick mud.

"Why should I talk to her?" Edgar grits out, hands scrabbling frantically in the filth as he struggles to pull himself through this particular obstacle, glad to see the end if it not far out of sight.

"Because it's very obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." The response is almost automatic, a reflex designed to protect his real feelings about their fellow trainee.

In truth, Edgar had had a crush on the girl for a good few months, having been interested in her as soon as he first laid eyes on her, nearly six months ago, when he and his brother signed up for the SRS. Neither of them had ever really thought about taking their vampire hunting that seriously, but this all changed when the dark-clad Soldiers converged on Santa Carla, their hometown, a couple of years ago, hunting down one of their own, who was seen as a traitor. The hooded men had come into the comic shop searching for some help, only to be confused by the Frog's zealous attitude and rough introduction to the supernatural side of the town, swiftly recognising potential in them. When their Hunt was over, the result of which they never found out, the men returned to the shop, offering to enlist them in the training program as soon as they turned the correct age, stating that the minimum age for joining the SRS is sixteen. Now at that age, the Frog brothers were quick to travel to New Orleans, where they found the headquarters and signed up, completing the theory section with flying colours before they moved onto the physically demanding practical side: hunting.

When they first started this stage, the two of them were easily overshadowed by some of the others in the group, despite already having four kills under their belts (so to speak), their smaller stature allowing some of the larger, physically stronger cadets to overtake them in the rankings, though it was much to their surprise when they found out one of the best was a girl named (Y/n). With a pretty much unknown backstory, the sixteen year old girl had shown up many of the other cadets, holding her own in many of the harder exercises, showing off her aptitude for shooting and fighting, flooring some of the most muscular rookies training with them with ease. It was no wonder Edgar developed a crush on her.

"Frog! I do hope you intend on moving soon, or you'll be stuck on clearing duty for a week!" A senior officer snaps at him from somewhere to his left, drawing him from his brief lapse into his head.

"Yes, ma'am!" He shouts back, knowing how they hate to be ignored.

"Get a move on!"

Gritting his teeth, Edgar follows his brother out onto the next stage - a variety of elevated logs providing bridges across a swampy areas of ground. In the pouring rain the logs have already become waterlogged, making them slippery and dangerous.

Approaching one, he leaps up and grabs the end of it, quickly heaving himself onto the narrow stretch of wood, catching his balance before he steadily steps along it, going with the incline as much as possible, biting his lip as his feet slip a little on the wood. Nearing the end of the log, he locates the closest one to it and jumps to it, landing shakily on the lifted end, repeating the process until he has safely crossed it, catching up to his brother as they run the last few kilometres across the marshy land, breathing heavily in the pouring rain. The finish line comes into view, the posts signifying its presence only just visible through the rain, the flags topping them slapping wetly against the poles they are attached to, concealing the familiar insignia of the SRS from view.

With one last push, Edgar and Alan throw themselves over the finish line, trying not to collapse in exhaustion as they quickly stretch out their stiffening muscles, neither of them saying a word until they've caught their breath back, going to stand with the other cadets who have already finished it.

"One hour, fourteen minutes and forty-three seconds. Not bad, Frogs, not bad." The drillmaster informs them as they get close, the two of them brightening up slightly at the sound of that; it's a new personal best.

"Nice one, you two." A familiar voice congratulates them, the two of them turning to find (Y/n) standing there, a genuine smile on her features, mud striping her cheeks like war paint, most likely the result of her team mate getting a little over-zealous on one of the obstacles.

"Thanks." Alan smiles back, looking to Edgar as he struggles to reply.

"Err, yeah, thanks, you did really well, too." He finally manages, blushing as he looks away, suddenly feeling very hot.

"Thank you." She acknowledges, making eye contact briefly before turning away, going back to her team mate.

"You're smitten." Alan rolls his eyes, looking over at his brother in exasperation.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Stop trying to hide it, Edgar, I'm your brother, I see all these things."

The drillmaster's words ring clearly in Edgar's head as he steps through the darkened corridors, making his way in and around broken furniture and piles of ceiling debris, his helmet limiting his vision greatly.

"Don't get caught off guard, or they'll have your ass for breakfast."

Of course, you'd hope that he was being metaphorical, but the cadets are all aware of one fact: he isn't. Not when they've all been tasked with clearing an abandoned hospital of the supernatural beings squatting there, particularly the wraithes and their carnivorous tendencies, most of which are to blame for the hospital's fall in the first place.

A piece of glass shattering behind him snaps him from his thoughts, the sound instilling a sense of fear into him as he slowly turns, freezing in place when he sees a shape in the hallway behind him. From where he is, he can't tell what it is, but he knows it won't hesitate to kill him, so he lifts the gun in his hands to shoulder level, cocking it gingerly, body shaking in fear. Aiming steadily, he let's the flashlight roam across the shape, only to let out a breath when he sees what, or rather who, it is.

"(Y/n)?!" He hisses out to her, surprised that she is in this part of the building.

"Edgar? Is that you?" Her voice floats back over to him, the cadet holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the bright light.

"Yeah, it's me. You found anything yet?" He responds, secretly pleased that she actually remembers his name.

"No. Have you?" She clarifies, coming over to him, her gun held comfortably over her abdomen as she stays prepared, ready to shoot anything dangerous.

"Not yet."

"That's good." She looks him in the eye, "I kinda wanted to talk to you, though this probably isn't the best time."

Edgar gazes at her, surprised at what she is saying, an eyebrow lifting under the visor of his protective helmet.

"You wanted to talk to me?" He asks, incredulous.

"Yeah, I do." She nods, looking away again, her fingers tapping nervously on the stock of the gun.

"What about?"

She is silent for a minute, before she takes a deep breath and responds, relaxing her shoulders as she tries to stay calm.

"I just wanted to tell you about how I feel about you. Edgar, I know this is weird because we don't really know each other, and you probably don't feel the same way, but I, well, I like you. A lot."

There is an awkward moment of quiet between us as he tries to figure out how to respond correctly.

"You...you like me?" He finally manages to ask, not quite believing what he heard before.

"Yeah, I do. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just thought you should know." (Y/n) explains, going to move past him, before he stops her with a hand on her arm.

"(Y/n), I've had a crush on you for the longest time, I just didn't know how to tell you." He informs her, waiting for a reaction.

"...really?"

"Yeah. Just ask my brother, he figured it out pretty quickly."

She smiles beneath her visor, clearly much happier now that the initial worry is over.

"I'm glad. Maybe when we get some free time, we could go on a date?" She suggests, adjusting her grip on the weapon.

Edgar smiles back at her.

"I'd like that."

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #Edgar frog #Alan frog #Edgar frog x reader #request #Edgar frog imagine

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avocadogirl216 · 4 years ago

Text

Sparkling Blue

AN: This was requested by lizzz47 on Wattpad. I’m so sorry that this took forever to come out and I am sorry if it is crap.

Summary: While your brothers and yourself are looking for Jack, you run into Clark Barker, who you can’t help but feel attracted to.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister!reader, Sam Winchester x sister!reader, Jack Kline x reader, Clark Barker x reader

Warnings: Flirting (Is that a warning?), Violence, Fluff, Underage Smoking, Language, Depressed Reader, Kissing

Word Count: 3,263

(I do not own this GIF)

You groan as you wake up on the floor of the nursery. You sit up and immediately try to find your brothers. Sam and Dean were a couple of feet away from you, also starting to gain consciousness.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked as he started to stand on his freakishly sized legs.

“The kid. That’s what.” Dean said as he followed suit of his younger brother.

“Are you guys okay?” You asked as you started to look over yourself for any injuries.

“Other than the skull splitting headache, I’m freaking fantastic.” Dean replied in a sarcastic tone as he made is way over to you and extended his hand. You put your small hand into his large one and he hoisted you up onto your feet. “We need to find that kid.” Dean stated as he found his gun on the floor and holstered it into the back of his jeans.

“Yeah, but how?” Sam asked.

“He couldn’t have gone far.” You stated.

“Unless he can teleport.” Dean replied back while running his hand down his face in a frustrated matter.

“Well let’s think of the smaller picture right now. Okay?”

“Fine.” Dean grumbled.

“Let’s say that Jack can’t teleport, the next best thing for him is to walk. So we can look around town and ask of they have seen him.”

“Yeah, lets just go around town asking if anyone has seen a naked newborn nephilim. Good plan.” Dean said as he started to make his way out of the house.

You and Sam shared a look. You just lost Mary and Cas all in the same hour and now Jack, who possibly has the power to end all of humanity with the snap of his fingers, is roaming Chuck’s green earth. You understand why Dean is pissed, hell you were just as pissed as him, if not more. Every time you seem to catch a break, something happens, proving to you that you can’t be happy. As you and Sam made your way out of the house, Dean has already started the car and was waiting on you.

After 20 minutes of driving towards town, you spot a burger place on the side of the road. As Dean pulls in, you and Sam both volunteer to ask the people inside if they have in fact, seen a naked newborn nephilim.

When you walk in, Sam immediately goes to the counter, which is occupied by a clearly drunk woman who was moaning for fries. You start to look around the small burger place with way too much pirate themed decor. You look at the menu screen to see that all of the menu items were changed to where their names had butt in them.

Immature

“I want fries.” The woman demanded yet again while setting her high heels on the counter.

“Lady, I’ve already told you, I can’t give you any fries before lunch. Rules are rules.” The kid said in a annoyed tone. He couldn’t have been older than you, 16.

“Screw the rules. I’m outta here.” The woman moaned as she stumbled out of the burger joint.

You and Sam approached the counter.

“Welcome to Pirate Pete’s Jolly Treats! What would you like today?” The kid asked, his mood already improving since the drunk woman left.

“Umm we won’t be ordering anything. We’re actually looking for someone. A kid, around 17, not exactly clothed.” You said.

The boys eyes widened. “Yeah I know who you’re talking about. He stopped here asking about his father or something and Clark called his mom, who is the sheriff and she came and picked him up.” He explained.

“Oh okay. Could you point us in the direction of the police station please?” You asked kindly.

“Uh yeah, sure. If you take the main road through town and turn on Greenly Avenue, its just on your right.” The boy explained.

“Thank you.” Sam said as you two made your way out the door.

Once you got on the car with Dean, Sam repeated the directions to the police station and you made your way there. It took about 10 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of the small station. As everyone made their way out of the car, you all started to walk towards the front door with caution. When Dean opened the door for you and Sam you could immediately tell that something was wrong. The lights were flickering like crazy and the floor was vibrating. You pulled out your gun along with your brothers and you started to make your way towards the voices in the office portion of the station.

When you entered the room you could see three people, a woman who was obviously the sheriff, a teen boy with a red jacket and Jack whose eyes were glowing a vibrant gold, clearly angry. You needed to take Jack down before he hurts anyone, so you made a quick decision. You ran to the sheriff and stole her taser out of her belt, which got you a confused look, and you shot it at Jack.

Jack hit the floor with a thud, clearly unconscious. You handed the sheriff the taser back and holstered your gun in the waistband of your jeans. The teen boy gave you an impressed and shocked look.

“Dude!” He exclaimed while raising his eyebrows.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman asked, confusion written on her face.

“We’re the ones who just saved your ass.” Dean replied.

The sheriff looked between you, your brothers and Jack on the floor. “Umm, what just happened?” She asked.

“Look, we can explain everything but right now we need to get him to a jail cell for your safety and ours.” Sam explained.

“Fine, but after we are going to have ourselves a nice, long chat about what the hell is going on.” The sheriff said.

After Sam and Dean both carried Jack into a cell, they were lead into a large office. “Don’t go anywhere.” Dean said to you before walking in.

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” You said as you leaned against a desk.

Once the door to the office was closed, the teen boy looked at you again, awe still in his eyes. He was attractive. He had slick, black hair that was almost as long as Sam’s but was curly at the ends, blinding white teeth and sparkling blue eyes.

“Who are you? Like some superhero or something?” He asked.

“My name’s Y/N and I am a hunter, which is almost like a superhero if you think about it.” You said as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Cool. I’m Clark.” Clark said while a smile growing onto his face.

You returned the smile as best as you could, which turned out to be a depressing grin. Clark noticed this.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked while tilting his head.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just...” You sighed while looking at the floor. “Things haven’t exactly gone great for me lately.” You said sadly.

There was a moment of silence before Clark spoke. “I know something that might help.” He said with a mischievous smirk playing onto his lips.

You shot him a questioning look. Clark grabbed your hand and started to lead you to the back door of the building. When you made it outside, Clark put a fruit basket in the doorway, preventing you two from getting locked outside. He then reached into his bright red jacket and brought out a pack of cigarettes. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You ever smoked before?” He asked as he started to pull a cigarette out of the box.

“No, not really.” You said in a shy tone.

“Wanna try?” Clark asked as he held one out to you. “It’ll calm your nerves.”

You hesitated.

“Hey, I’m not pressuring you or anything. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I just thought that it would help you calm down a little.” Clark explained.

You bit your lip before taking it out of his hand. Clark gave you a wide smile as he pulled one out for him and took out a lighter.

“Ladies first.” Clark said while winking at you and lighting your cigarette at the same time. You blushed a little while feeling fluttery in your stomach. When he lit his stick, he started to talk again. “All you do is bring it to your lips and inhale and after a little bit you exhale, like this.” He said as he took a drag from his cigarette. After a few seconds he blew the smoke out of his lungs and into the air. “You think you got it?” He asked while raising his eyebrows.

“I think so.” You said. You copied his movements and followed his instructions carefully and inhaled from a cigarette for the first time. There was a burning sensation in your throat and in your lungs. You immediately started to cough and choke on the smoke. Clark quickly made his way over to you and put a hand on your back, rubbing reassuring circles.

“Yeah, I forgot to warn you, the first drag is a bitch. But it will get better, trust me.” Clark said once you started to breath normally, his hand never leaving your back.

“It’s okay.” You said as you started to wipe your eyes of tears that were starting to form involuntarily.

After a minute you stand up straight again and catch your breath. You notice that Clark's hand still hasn't left the small of your back and you give him a questioning look. Once he gets the message, he retracts his hand and puts it to his side as he clears his throat.

"So.... You good?" He asked, clearly trying to clear the awkwardness from the air.

"Yeah, I'm good." You said as you took another drag from your cigarette, noting that it went down easier than the last time.

Clark gave you an impressed look while copying your actions. After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, he decided to speak. "So, your job is to what? Control people with super powers?"

"Kinda. I hunt the things that lurk in the dark."

"Like ghosts and vampires and stuff?" Clark asked with a chuckle. You have him a serious look, confirming his question. His eyes widened in realization. "Wait, you're serious? Those things are real?"

"Yep". You said as you looked away from his face and took another lung full of smoke.

"Damn. That makes you like ten times more attractive." Clarke said. Your eyes widened as blush made its way to your face and neck. Clark noticed this and smirked, which made your stomach fluttery.

You cleared your throat, trying to think of something to say. As you were looking around, you noticed that Clark was wearing a Pirate Pete uniform under his red jacket. “So, you work at Pirate Pete's?” You asked.

Clark looked down at himself, seeming to notice the stupid costume that he was still wearing. “Yeah, my mom made me get a job there since I kept getting into trouble.” He stated. “Like that would work, I make my own trouble.” Clark said as he stomped out his cigarette.

“Were you the one who changed the menu earlier today?”

“Yeah.” He said. “Not my finest work, I’m better at other things.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You asked as you threw your cigarette down and stomped it out with the heel of your boot.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He said while wiggling his eyebrows at you.

A small smile made its way to your face.

Clark’s smile widened while stepping closer to you. “Maybe I can show you some of my talents later, huh?” He asked.

“I would but people who get close to me seem to get hurt or worse. I think that you’re a nice guy and all but I just don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” You said, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Hey I get it. I just thought that I would shoot my shot, its not everyday that I meet a superhero.” Clark said as he leaned against the wall behind him.

Before you could say anything else, you heard a foot steps approaching. You whipped your head up as you saw three people, the woman from the burger joint who apparently wasn’t drunk anymore, a man and a woman, both of whom you didn’t recognize.

“Well well, if it isn’t the youngest Winchester.” The not-so-drunk woman said as she started to pull out her angel blade.

You took out your own blade as you stood in front of Clark, swearing to yourself that you would protect him as much as you could against these dicks that called themselves angels.

“Aww, young love, adorable.” The woman sneered as she started to step closer to the two of you.

“Clark, run.” You said as you met his wide, fear filled eyes.

Clark made a break for it to the back door of the station but the angels were faster. The man grabbed him and held his blade to Clark’s throat, nearly breaking his skin.

“You seriously didn’t think that would work, did you?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” You said but before you could make another move, the other female angel came up behind you, knocked the angel blade out of your hand and held her own blade against your throat. You held up your hands in surrender, seeing that there was no way to get the upper hand without getting your throat slit.

The angels seemed to share a silent conversation with each other and after a couple of seconds, the lead angel opened the back door and lead the way into the building. You were lead into the office sector of the police station along with Clark.

“Anybody home?” The lead angel called out. Shortly after Dean and the sheriff came out of the small office. You noticed that Sam did not exit the office along with his brother and the cop which meant that he was more than likely in the jail cell. When Dean took in the scene before him his eyes widened double their size. Sheriff Barker drew her gun on the angel holding her son hostage, not knowing that it would do nothing to him.

“Hey Deano. Care for a chat?” The woman asked.

Dean pulled out an angel blade that he had hidden in his jacket, anger showing in his forest green eyes. “Let them go.” He commanded.

“What’s the fun in that?” The lead woman asked.

“I won’t ask again.” Dean said in a deadly tone.

“You won’t have to, all that I want is the nephilim. Give him to us and these two will walk out of here without a scratch. I promise.”

“Why should I trust you?” Dean asked.

“I never asked you to. Just give us what we want and everyone walks away happily.”

You watched as Dean considered taking the offer.

“Dean I know what you are thinking. Don’t do it.” You said.

“Shut up.” The angel who was holding you captive said as she pressed the blade deeper into your neck, drawing blood.

“Maybe we can work something out. Just let them go and we can talk.” Sheriff Barker said, putting her gun back into its holster and putting her hands up in surrender.

The lead angel scoffed. “You humans don’t get it do you? If that abomination walks the earth, that can be the end of all life. We are trying to help.”

“Then that’s a risk that I am willing to take.” Dean said, giving you a signal to get ready. You quickly gave one back saying that you already were. Before the angels could register what was happening, Dean aimed and threw his blade at the head of the angel who was holding you. As the blade went through her skull and killed her, you quickly grabbed the blade that was being held at your throat. You make your way over to Clark and attacked the angel who was holding him. You stopped the angel just before he could stab Clark in the neck. You took the blade out of his hand, throw it towards Dean and you stab the angel square in the chest. Dean gets the upper hand and kills the lead angel in one quick movement, catching her off guard.

You make your way over to Clark.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked as you stashed the blade into your jacket.

“Not really.” Clark responded with fear in his voice. “I almost died.”

“But you didn’t.” You assured him while putting a hand on his shoulder. “That’s what matters.”

“Yeah.” He said while putting his shaking hands into his jacket pockets.

Sheriff Barker made her way over to the two of you, looking over Clark to make sure that he was okay. As they started to talk to each other, you walked towards Dean, preparing yourself for the lecture that he was going to give you.

When you eventually got to him, you crossed your arms and looked at the floor, avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“Y/N, look at me.” Dean commanded. You sighed, lifting your head to look at your oldest brothers face. “Are you okay?” Dean asked, anger melting from his eyes.

You were taken back by his question but you quickly get yourself together. “Yeah.” You answered.

“Good.” Was all that Dean said before he started to walk towards the jail sector of the station. You quickly followed. When the two of you got there, you saw that Sam and Jack were in the same cell. You shot a look to Sam, silently asking if he was okay. He gave you a single nod before standing up with Jack and walking to the cell door.

“What happened?” Sam asked Dean.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Was all that Dean said before opening the cell door and letting your brother and Jack out. “We need to get out of here. The sheriff called for backup and they can be here any minute.” Dean explained.

Dean started to lead the way out of the station but you were quickly stopped by your name being called.

“Y/N.” Clark said, beckoning you to come over to him.

“I’ll catch up.” You told Sam, making your way over to Clark.

“So, this is it huh?” Clark asked with a sad smile.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You said while sharing his expression.

“Well, there is one thing that I want to do before you leave.”

“And what would that be?”

“This.” He said before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach as you kissed him back with as much passion as you could muster up at that moment. You two kissed each other for what felt like eternity before you broke the kiss.

Your eyes met his with love and wonder. “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said that you were an expert in other areas.”

He threw his head back, chuckling. After a moment, he calmed down and met your eyes again. “Guess not.” He said.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before you spoke. “Goodbye Clark.”

“Bye Y/N.” He said back with a smile.

You returned the smile before turning around and walking out of the station and towards the impala. As you climbed into the backseat beside Jack, you couldn’t help but hope that you would run into Clark Barker again.

#spn #supernatural #fanfic #reader insert #dean winchester x siser!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #clark barker x reader #request #kissing #flirting #fluff

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shauds-archived · 6 years ago

Note

Can we get more Jay Eddie please???

Okay, so there was no word with this one, so I didn't know if it was a table request, or just a general " Will there be more of Jason and Eddie" thing. Just waited till I had something to post with it anyway.

Another add on to " Do Not Engage" Just Jay and Eddie hanging around and catching up, :).

They went for pancakes - smothered in syrup and cream - caught up a little - incredibly awkward with how little either of them were really willing to talk about - and there was no more physical violence involved which was more than could be said of most social interactions Jason tried to engage in. Not that he'd really expected much more violence on Eddie's end, Jason had been more concerned about himself with that, maybe with Spoiler, maybe any of the other costume run-around about Gotham wondering where she and Kid Devil had gone.

"Be back soon," Eddie said when it was over, with a grin that's cheeriness wasn't offset by either fangs it revealed, or the way it literally lit up his face in the alley behind the diner.

"Just go make sure they don't think I mugged you." Jason kept his tone casual was he waved them off.

"Technically, couldn't we kinda say we mugged you?" Spoiler said, pulling her face mask down now she'd finally finished clearing away the copious amounts of syrup she'd gotten on the fabric. "Attacked you in the Bowery and took your money?" She cocked her head at them.

"Don't you dare."Jason warned, but couldn't find the heat to put behind it.

She chuckled and patted his cheek. "See you 'round McHostage."

That was exactly the story she was going to tell, he knew it, and Eddie wasn't going to refute it.

"I'm not buying you pancakes again." Jason yelled at the fiery... portal? Eddie had opened.

She waved again, her hand slipping away the last of them he saw, and then they were gone. The alley was quiet, cold as Gotham always was on the cusp of another storm. Soon the background noise - cars, sirens, chatter and shouts - rushed in to fill the silence they'd left. It'd been nice while it lasted. Jason tugged up the collar of his jacket against the wind, tucked his hands into his pockets, and started on his way to his nearest heated safehouse.

He got to the end of the alleyway when the ring of fire appeared in front of him again and Eddie came stumbling out. Literally stumbling, he took one step and fell over.

"Gopher!" Jason caught him before he could hit the wet, grimy asphalt. "What the hell?"

"No one calls me tha' 'nymore." He slurred and looked up at Jason with half-lidded eyes, then turned away with and let Jason pull him back to his feet.

"What happened?" Jason asked, circling Eddie, looking him over for injuries.

"Said I'd be back soon." Eddie said, running his forearm over his eyes. "Stop that." He batted Jason's prodding hands away from his head. No obvious signs of concussion, but... "Just been teleporting all day." He planted a hand on his hip and gave Jason a thumbs up. "All good now."

"You sure?" Jason didn't move to far from Eddie, kept his arms out, ready to catch him again juts in case.

"They're my powers, Jayce, I know how to handle them." Eddie jabbed the thumb at his own chest. "So what're we..." He took a step out of the alley and tipped over.

Jason sighed deeply and thanked his paranoia that he hadn't been able to keep from wearing the heat resistant padding under his t-shirt.

000

"I swear you used to be smarter." Jason shook his head and kicked the fridge closed, then slid the glass of orange juice across the island to Eddie.

"Wasn't sure I'd find you again." Eddie took a big gulp of juice, and then a bite of toast

Jason ignored the sting he felt a at that, folded his arms and leaned against the counter where he would keep a close eye on Eddie. "I meant that recruitment drive bullshit." He'd seen some pretty messed up side effects of exhaustion over the years, some particularly nasty one from metas, it didn't hurt to be cautious. "You know what that sounds like, right?"

Eddie sank down a little on the on the chair Jason'd pulled over from the the living room. "It's not like that, a lot of kids need the Titans, and we're really short on members right now, so..."

If it were kids that needed the Titans, the Titans wouldn't need recruitment drives. It wouldn't have a higher turnover rate then the damn Justice League. Jason pressed a hand over the bridge of his nose and held back a sigh. This was an argument he'd had many times, one he'd never won, getting into a screaming match wasn't going to help anything. Eddie had survived getting his torn open, h could teleport, he'd be fine. Jason scooped up the empty glass and brought it back to the fridge for a refill.

"Not like anyone was was interested." Eddie shrugged and accepted the glass, brought it to his lips along with the toast, then stopped halfway through the motion. "Or... Hey, your technically still a Teen, right?"

Jason couldn't stop the laughter that broke out from his chest at that, at the very idea that he would ever so much as consider that, so much as be considered, ever. "Not a chance in this or any universe, K.D."

"Was worth a shot."

Eddie said, turning his nose up at Jason. He he popped the last piece of toast into his mouth. "And it's actually Red Devil now."

"Well, no one's ever accused you of being a coward." Jason took the plate to rinse the crumbs off it and heard the scraping of Eddie pushing his chair back from the ground. "And is R.D gonna pass out on me again?"

Eddie's chuckle was nervous. "Nah, R.D's good, just needed a boost. Man this is weird."

"Nah, I get attacked by demons every other night."

"I can't even tell of you're joking." Eddie said and hopped up to sit on the counter. "Guess it's not that weird anymore, but still, I just never thought, you were, you know."

"Yeah." Jason dried the plate and stacked it with the others. "I know." Jason wouldn't have believed it himself if someone had told him at fifteen that this was what he'd be. "I woulda told you, if I'd thought..." Jason pressed a hand against his eyes and huffed.

"M'not mad about that anymore." Eddie was swinging his legs, looking out the window at the stormy city. He was like something out of a B grade horror movie, just like he'd wanted when he'd been a kid, and he was still the most like what Jason remembered out of all of them. "Well I am, I guess, but not really at you."

"Thanks." Jason ducked his head and stepped around the island for the doorway. "So, we haven't tried to beat the crap out of each other yet, and I have no idea what we do now"

There was a thump of Eddie's feet hitting the floor and he was following after Jason. "I wanted to watch Ballistic: Ecks vs. Server the other night, and Amy kind of looked like she wanted to beat the crap out of me for it."

"You hate that movie."

"How do you remember that?"

"Hard to forget when you practically wrote me an essay on it."

000

Four odd years would be a long time for anyone. For people who lived like Jason and Eddie, who'd changed as much as they had in that time, it was pretty much an eternity. So much had happened, more than either could have guessed at and a lot that neither of them easily understood. So they talked.

They talked about Dan and Aunt Marla and the multiverse and the Titans. More about Eddie than about Jason, because whenever conversation turned to the older of the two, he'd find a way to steer it back around.

The movie played in the background, both of them paying more attention to each other and the bowl of popcorn between them than the screen. Eddie joked about how between the pancakes, the toast and now the popcorn, it seemed Jason was incapable of conversation that wasn't over food. Jason flipped him off and shoved a hand of popcorn in his mouth in lieu of a reply. Eddie brought up the swear jar he and Rose had made use of at the tower, when she'd still been there.

When the movie was over, they swapped it out for something equally bad and put it just loud enough to block out the sounds of the storm that made Gotham at daytime dark as twilight. And then they talked about Twilight and Eddie felt terrible about subjecting Jason to the horror.

"Can't believe you found the vampire hunter world and it's the old-timey one you wanted to stay in." By that point, Eddie was only half on the couch, having slid down lower and lower to the ground over the course of the night h had to look past his shoulder to see Jason. Or maybe not, it actually did sound a lot like 'Extra Credit History Assignments For Fun Jason.'

"Yeah." Jason had chuckled, only half awake himself and curled up in two thirds of the couch, Eddie suspected it had been a while since he'd slept at all. "Kyle got infected there." He linked his fingers and stretched his hands up and over his head. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged the bowl of cold, and now too salty popcorn off the couch and onto his lap. " But can hunt vampire's here."

Eddie hummed in agreement and massaged his tired eyes, turned them lazily to the screen where a bunch off teenagers were shrieking very unconvincingly about a witch. "You wanna hunt a vampire?" Eddie slid still further off the couch, and this time Jason's legs uncurled a little to claim the space Eddie had vacated.

"No m'sleeping." Jason yawned and buried his face in the armrest, he looked a lot more comfortable than Eddie, who gave in and let himself fall the rest of the way to the ground. The carpet was soft too, well soft enough, Eddie didn't have the energy to get up and reclaim couch space. "Do it with the Titans."

"Titans don't hunt things." Eddie yawned too, great, he'd caught it from Jason and now he was going to fall asleep too. "We just kind of..." He flopped a hand in circles as the yawn winded down, "Get attacked by supervillains 'n stuff."

"So heroic." Jason scoffed, then he shifted so he was laying on his back, eyes on the ceiling, abruptly tense and nowhere near as comfortable as he'd been a moment ago. "Speaking of, you gonna be heading back soon?"

"No, I don't..." Eddie turned around, so he was kneeling, facing the couch and Jason. "I can hang a little longer."

"Ah." Jason nodded once, scrubbed a hand over his face before folding both arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

"Unless." Eddie bit down on his bottom lip, shifted his gaze quickly to the door and back, something heavy and cold settling on his shoulders. Jason hadn't expected Eddie to be back right after dropping Spoiler back at the tower, he knew that, and then, Eddie had been here for hours already, he knew he could be a little inept at telling when he'd worn out his welcome. "Did you want me to leave you alone?"

"No." Jason said, a deep line having appeared between his eyes and his lips set in a frown. "I wouldn't want you to go." He rolled his shoulders, a nervous gesture that didn't fit him "Just figured, you had thing's to do, n you'd wanna get back 'fore they knew you were..." He motioned at himself and then around at the apartment. "Y'know."

"I don't." Eddie tucked some strands of hair behind his ear and shifted away from the couch to keep the sudden spike in his body temperature from burning it up. "And I know you don't really thing I'd ditch you for such a dumb reason." He fixed his eyes on Jason and tried to smile, he was good at that. "I swear you used to be smarter."

Jason finally looked at Eddie, blinked owlishly at him with eyes so wide, Eddie might have thought it was funny if it hadn't made him turn every bit of the carpet he was touching to charcoal. Then Jason snorted and shook his head as he rolled off the couch. "I gotta fire-proof this apartment sometime."

"Yeah, that's a really, really good idea." Eddie winced and shifted away from the carpet he'd destroyed.

"Ima grab the fire-extinguisher, you get another movie going." Jason was gone from the room minutes after the sounds of him rifling through the kitchen came to an end.

The room was too dark to be sure, but when he came back in, Jason's eyes were suspiciously red. When he didn't bring it up, Eddie let himself pretend it was because his friend was short a couple hours too many of sleep.

They didn't do much more talking that night, but that was fine, there'd be plenty more time for catching up on others.

#Jason Todd #Eddie Bloomberg #fanfiction #asks #anon #mine

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supernatural-book · 6 years ago

Text

Beyond the Sky

Title: Beyond the Sky

Castiel x Reader

Warning: a very old story of mine, one I'll probably go back and change eventually. So many flaws I want to fix. Ugh.

You stared up at the ceiling of the bunker, playing with the necklace around your neck. Just recently, you had befriended Sam and Dean, after you saved their asses while hunting. There were three demons and two hunters, so you decided to even it out, exorcising the demons quickly, before they noticed you were even there. They knew they could trust you almost instantly, let alone a few tests and you having to tell them your backstory. Having to tell them those things had brought back memories that you’d rather not think of. No one in your family died a tragic, bloody death, but your grandmother had a heart attack in front of you, and you could do nothing but call the ambulance.

As a child, your grandparents were extremely religious- church every Sunday, praying before meals and such- but your parents weren’t. Your parents were hunters, and your grandparents didn’t want you to be one, so they raised you into a religious girl. Or, they tried. You tried your hardest to believe in what they said, you tried so hard, but your young mind just couldn’t. You refused to believe what you didn’t see. You grew up to become a hunter, despite what your grandparents wanted, and you tried to find out the truth. If demons and vamps exist, angels and god must too, right? The only difference was that you’ve seen those monsters, but not angels. You’re grandmother’s words echoed fresh in your mind.

“You’ll always have your guardian angel on your shoulder, so you don’t have any reason to be scared.” She had whispered to you one night when you were 10, after you had awoken from a nightmare, crying in the dark. You had been friends with Sam and Dean for a few months now, and apparently there were still people you needed to meet. One being Castiel. Castiel is a strange name, you had thought at first. Strange, but cute. Who would name their child Castiel?

Today, you were going out on another hunt with Sam and Dean, but you were sort of nervous. It might just be a salt and burn, maybe something bigger. Who knows? You felt like you were going to mess up. One of your weaknesses is how you mess up under pressure. It doesn’t matter how amazing you are at something. If all eyes are on you, you had a good chance of messing up. This is why you were better working alone. No one to save.

You lay on your bed and continued staring at the ceiling of the bunker, until you heard Dean’s alarm go off, and annoyed grumbling coming from the other room. Soon enough, a fully dressed Dean came to your door.

“Wakey, wakey.” he called groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m up. Be out in a few.” You answered, a smile on your lips. You pulled yourself out of the bed and dressed yourself, pulling on jeans and a flannel. Then, you looked at the necklace lying on your nightstand. The tiny angel wings given to you by your grandmother. Your good luck charm. Damn, you could use it today. You put in on and tucked it into your shirt so that it didn’t get in the way. You opened the door and walked out of your room, finding the boys at the table with coffee and computers, researching the case. “Any idea what it is yet?” You asked softly while getting coffee.

“Yep.” Dean answered, closing the laptop. “Vamp.” You nodded.

“So we just find it, behead it, and move on with our lives?” You stated simply. Well, it turned out not being that simple. You and the boys ended up finding a while nest of vamps, and being outnumbered. You remember both Sam and Dean taking on two seperatly, while the others focused on you. The boys tried to help you, but apparently the vamps idea was to hold back Sam and Dean and feed on and kill you first. You killed one, and you were proud of that, but as you were catching your breath, you were jumped by another, falling to the ground. You remembered hearing: “(Y/N)!” Shouted across the room, and feeling a piercing pain in your neck. Piercing, seems fitting to say, it was a vampire bite after all. You felt the sticky blood run down your neck and smeled the metallic scent of it. Then darkness. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but when you came to, you first instinct after you remembered the events was to touch your neck. You found no trace of blood, no scar, nothing. Your next instinct was to notice your surroundings. You were in the bunker, lying on your bed. Where were Sam and Dean? You stood up and exited the room, calling their names.

“Sam! Dean!” Quickly you were greeted by the two.

“Out here!” You made your way to the room the voices came from, and saw three figures. THREE figures. Sam was there, Dean was there, and an unknown man was also there. He had dark hair and was wearing a trench coat, dress shirt and pants, and a blue tie. He looked at you confused, and tilted his head.

“(Y/N).” He said your name softly, like a greeting, but also like a question. You looked at Sam and Dean for help, which they immediately interpreted.

“Ya’ know how we told you about some people you haven’t met yet?” Sam asked. You nodded and Dean slung an arm around the man’s shoulders.

“This is Cas.”

“Castiel.” The man corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, he’s a-”

“-friend” Cas interrupted. “I’m a friend.” You just silently stared at Cas. He was cute, just like you imagined. You took a few steps closer to him and stared into his gorgeous eyes. Not exaggerating. If there was a heaven, his eyes would make up about 90% of it’s beauty. They were bluer than blue, and you never thought you could find anyone with such beautiful eyes. For a while, you two just stared at each other, Cas growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, looking to Sam and Dean for help. Suddenly, you let out a small laugh and stuck out your hand.

“(Y/N).” He smiled, another beautiful sight, and shook your hand. A question arose from your throat and came out before you could stop it. “What happened to my injuries?”

“What do you mean? We cleaned them up of course.” Sam stated, seeming somewhat nervous.

“What I mean is… there’s no scar or any bruises. And I remember being pretty messed up.” You looked between each of the boys and could feel a tension in the air. They exchanged glances with each other as if quietly arguing over who should talk. “Guys?”

“I’ll explain.” A gruff voice spoke up. Cas looked at the other two, who were sighing in relief as they turned.

“Okay, we’re gonna go get some pie for a celebration… Or something.” Dean pulled Sam out of the bunker before they could say anything else. You turned to Cas as soon as they were gone, still a bit wary. You did just meet him after all.

“What is it? What were they to nervous to explain?”

“Tell me about yourself.” Cas asked gently, ignoring your questions and still looking at you with that confused and somewhat sorrowful face.

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to become friends aren’t we?” When you didn’t answer, he stated deep into your eyes and asked, “Do you believe in Angels?” You stayed silent for a moment, eyes falling to the floor under his sharp gaze, and when you still didn’t answer, he asked again, more softly, “Do you?”

“No.” You could almost see Castiel’s eyes grow more sorrowful. “Why should I believe? There’s no proof and no miracles ever happened to me. Why do I have such a crappy life if God does exist?” You felt tears bubbling in your eyes, and looked down, wiping them away.

“Your alive aren’t you?” You sniffed softly and back at him. “(Y/N).” He stared at you softer than before. “I’m an angel of the lord.” You stared at him a moment and then turned away from him, walking back to your room.

“Yeah right… very funny.”

“Your necklace.” Castiel’s called from behind you, causing you to stop and look down. You necklace was still under your shirt, he couldn’t have seen it. You turned back, and Castiel continued. “Your grandmother gave it to you. She wanted it to make you believe in angles, and that you had a guardian angel watching over you.” You looked down and pulled the necklace out, holding the tiny wings between your fingers. Tears pooled in your eyes, and you let them fall. When you looked up, Cas was right in front of you. “Do you believe me now?”

“Sam and Dean… They could’ve told you that.” You murmered, fighting off tears. Cass watched you for a few seconds, before wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand moving up to run through your hair. It was a bit awkward at first, but Cas was on earth long enough to know how people should respond to things, so it ended up the most calming experience of your life. “But… but I want to know if angels exist. Can you show me something that only angels could?” Hearing you willing to figure it out, Cass smiled. He debated on showing you his wings, but at the moment they weren’t the nicest thing to look at.

“I can show you… Heaven.” At this, you perked up. Your eyes glowed despite the tears, and you smiled despite the sad memories.

“Can you? Really?” Castiel nodded and pulled away.

“Only for 60 seconds. Do you want to see?” He asked you softly, eyes shining with comfort and joy. You nodded enthusiatically. “Okay. Hold on to me. This may make you a bit nauseous.” You obeyed him an wrapped both your arms around his waist, waiting for the feeling. He wrapped one arm around you and grazed two fingers gently across your temple. With that touch, you felt extremely light and you opened you eyes only to see two blue orbs shining down at you. Then, in less than a second, it was over. When it stopped, your legs gave out, crumbling beneath you, but Castiel caught you, holding you still until you were well enough to stand. “Do you know where we are?” You looked at your surroundings and knew right away.

“This is… my grandparents.” You turned to look at Cas and saw he had a small, sad smile. He placed a hand on your shoulder as you watched your life before you. Your grandmother was sitting on the couch, reading bible stories to you, and you say next to her, only 10 years old, with a confused look.

“You know (Y/N), there is a place beyond the sky called Heaven. Everyone who is good goes there after their life is over and become angels.“ You stared up at your grandmother with awe in your eyes. “And all of us have guardian angels who watch over us and keep us safe, protecting us from the bad things."

“Really?” The young you looked up with wonder in her eyes. “Grandma, will you be my guardian angel?” You felt Castiel gently squeeze your arm for comfort, and only now did you realise that you were almost shaking.

“Of course, darling. But I don’t think I’ll be in Heaven any time soon.” The young you and your grandmother both smiled, but you began crying, knowing that the very next day she would, in fact, be an angel.

You felt the touch to your temple again and in a flash, you were back in the bunker, in your room, hugging Cas as if he was the only thing keeping you alive.

“Do you believe me yet?” He asked in that soothing voice of his.

Yes! Yes! Castiel, you’re an angel! I… can’t believe…” You clutched his trench coat even tighter, sobbing into the soft tan fabric. He wrapped his arms around you once again, lying down on your bed and positioning himself and you into a cuddle. He used his grace to dim the lights and a soft blue light glowed around him. You felt warmth all around you, and only one theory came to mimd. “Cas, i feel really warm. Do you have your… wings… around me?” You felt him hum and nod against your neck, and you soon found yourself lost in his angelic comfort.

“In case you wanted to know…” He whispered, “Your grandmother IS watching over you.” Your soft whimpers stopped for a moment and you wiped your face with your sleeve, smiling at him.

“Castiel… Will you watch over me too?” His face lit up with pride and he held you closer to his body.

“Of course.”

End~

#castiel x reader #cas #castiel #reader insert #my story

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leo--chimaira-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Possess Me Daddy||Owen&Leo

The fact that this wasn't the weirdest bet Owen had ever accepted spoke volumes about his betting tendencies. It was however, the vaguest one so far. There had to be some reason he was being 'summoned' to this stuffy looking mansion in the middle of nowhere, which he'd reluctantly used his newly acquired, shitty little Toyota to get to. This Leo hadn't seemed like the type to be looking for a fight or to secretly be a serial killer but you never knew. What a kick he would get out of this guy turning out to be a Hannibal Lecter type. Either way, Owen was driven on by his curiosity and inability to turn down a bet, shady or not. He didn't care about the prize (whatever was in the guy's pockets? Most likely just lint), the bet itself was the real fun. And so was winning. Knuckles rapped on the big front doors, wondering if he'd been sent to some random address. That could very well have been the catch to this bet, honestly, and Owen chuckled to himself at the thought. A nice practical joke; but one he'd have to get back at Leo for if that was the case.

Who in their right mind came to someone's house so late at night? Leo glanced at the clock, running a hand through his hair and muting the silly game show he'd been watching on TV, finding his way to the front door carefully. The brand on his back was still angry, pulsing even when he laid still, but he no longer wanted to curl up and die when walking, so there was definitely improvement. Hand on his hip, shuffling like he had the sore body of an elderly contortionist who'd been stuck in a small box for ten hours, Leo swung it open. A man stood on the porch looking slightly lost, but at the same time, devious and hungry, as if waiting for Leo to step outside and be eaten alive. He was also incredibly handsome, he realized, struggling to stare at something other than his lips, which were about at eye level thanks to his slouched posture. Leo cleared his throat and stood up straight, ignoring the fire up his spine. Crap, had they met before and now he was going to look like an ass for not remembering his name? But no, the man wasn't initiated, with no link to speak of. He also didn't seem to be there to drag Leo out of his house and demand he give back someone who'd... well, he couldn't quite recall exactly why the vampire and werewolves had come to his property, but he knew they were trouble. Why was this new person here after dark? If he could calm down and remember his manners, maybe the answer would come. Sticking out his hand to shake, he grinned, this time able to make eye contact without shying away. "Hello, I'm Leo. I don't think we've met. How can I help you?"

The door finally swung open and Owen wasted no time in sizing up up his betting companion for the evening. Taller than he'd expected, obvious despite his awkward posture, and a bit ruffled. Oh dear, was it late? He'd just shown up straight after work, not really taking notice of the time. Leo finally straightened out, a crying shame since Owen had been pretty damn amused by the other man's awkwardly wandering gaze, but at least he could now see the panic behind the dark orbs. Worry that Owen had actually taken the bet and driven up or just plain confusion? The latter, it seemed, as Owen was offered a casual handshake and a cheery greeting. Oh, man... "I take it back, you're definitely just as adorable as I first pinned you to be." His hand clasped the other's, grin matching Leo's and beating it by a landslide, green eyes lit up with amusement. "I'm Owen. Here to claim..." His gaze trailed down, a second once over that was much slower and more visibly deliberate than the first, ending around Leo's waist, "whatever's in your pockets, I believe?" He shifted his stare back up to meet Leo's, finally letting go of the man's hand.

Oh. This was the guy who wanted his... betting virginity (he still shuddered to call it that). Thank god. But also, what the heck was he doing here so soon after making the deal? Would he just show up anywhere with no warning if it was staged like a bet? And why'd he feel the need to keep calling Leo adorable? "Shut up!" He shot back, because how could be possibly accept the nickname from this handsome fiend? Again, he scrubbed a hand through his hair, mouth twisting into a wide grin despite himself. As soon as Owen's heated, deliberate gaze flew up and down his body, he took the hint and joined him on the porch, shutting the door behind them so the Family or, god forbid, Dharm woke up and came to see who was here. "Owen," he said, less than enthusiastic. The bet... Well, in that moment, Leo thought he was clever, as his off hand had been resting in his pocket during the exchange, so he offered it back, palm facing up, trembling slightly, and probably sweatier than it had any right to be. "Here's your prize. My hand was in my pocket when I made that bet with you, so for now, it's yours. There's also a piece of hard candy if you feel like something sweet." Crap, as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt awkward, cheeks mantling with color, but it was too late to take them back (not that he really wanted to). Leo shuffled, glancing into the darkness and again at the door to make sure they were truly alone. They were. He wasn't sure if he should feel grateful or hunted. "Did you find the place okay?"

It was definitely amusing, seeing the guy get all flustered when Owen had just barely scratched the surface. He already liked where this bet could be taking him; if the guy was getting all squirmy and sweaty from this two minutes exchange... well, Owen was eager to see what he could do given more time. The door into the mansion closed, a clue that there was someone inside other than Leo. Not that Owen particularly cared since his current object of interest stood out on the porch with him. Owen huffed out a laugh as the shaking hand was offered, one eyebrow quirked at the guy. Very interesting indeed. "Pretty racy thing to wager on your first bet. And I never say no to something sweet." His fingers flexed it a 'give it here' motion, eyes still reading Leo even as the promise hard candy was passed over. He carried himself in a way that indicated an injury and he looked strong, no doubt about it, but much too flustered and reserved to be part of Owen's line of work (the first idea that had popped into his head, finding an equal was always nice). "Giant house in the middle of nowhere? Kinda hard to miss." Popping the bright red thing into his mouth with absolutely no regard for the fact that it was literally candy from a stranger, Owen rolled it around his tongue for a moment; a moment that was just a little too long for comfort considering that he was just letting his eyes roam. "So, what's it do? My prize?" he finally asked, head nodding towards Leo's previously offered hand, lips raised in a smirk.

"Racy? How so?" Leo asked, coy, but the guise was easy enough to see through. He'd known exactly what he was doing bringing Owen here, and while he sometimes got a little distracted over the words and lead-up to situations like this, he was more than willing to play the game. Cat and mouse. Except this little mouse was going bring the poor cat into the ranks of his hoard. "I'm glad. It's easy to get lost out here." Thank god it'd been Leo to open the door and not some other member of the family, or things would've gotten a lot more complicated fast. In fact, Owen was either incredibly lucky or smart to have made it to his porch without spotting another initiate or ending up in a leghold trap. Probably the former, since he didn't exactly look like the type to do anything but chase prey and follow his own whim. He tilted his head to the side, taking the initiative to play with the buttons of the man's shirt. "It does whatever you want." The whole thing would've gone over smoothly if his voice hadn't cracked with embarrassment over even saying those words, much less meaning them, not to mention the fact that Owen was watching him, unblinking, ever amused as he worked the candy in his mouth, and if that wasn't intimidating enough to throw him off, Leo was a pacifist. He dropped the limb back to his side, twining his fingers together nervously and clearing his throat, gaze finding the ground.

This was a slightly unexpected turn of events, Owen had to admit, but definitely a pleasant one. Most people were so stuck up about 'getting to know each other' and what not, that finding someone who was willing to play his game at the drop of a hat was always a surprise. One that you wouldn't catch him complaining about, messy emotions always just got in the way. Leo might not have been as... polished as Owen, awkwardness constricting at the man's throat, but it would be easy work with. "Sounds perfect." The hand previously working at his shirt retreated and Leo pulled back into his shell. Alright, mostly easy. "Since I've won the bet, we can take this somewhere else than your weird mansion? I know I said I'd make you pay but I might just be persuaded to buy you a drink."

Go somewhere else? No, that wouldn't do at all. Leo wanted to stay within the Family's reach, both because he planned on calling one of them as soon as Owen was... more at ease, and in case something went wrong. Not that he thought it would, but he was injured, and Dharm liked to keep a close eye on him these days. "Another time. I threw my back out a few days ago, and as good as a drink sounds, I probably shouldn't. Sexy, right?" He laughed to drive the lie home. "But if you drove here, we can take this to your car." Despite everything, excitement was bubbling up in his tummy, Owen's masculine scent of cigarettes, cologne, and something vaguely rusty mixing pleasantly with the melting hard candy, wafting off him with every exhale. They should definitely take this somewhere, Leo decided. Was he staring?

Owen's head cocked as Leo spoke, contemplating where this nicely unexpected night was going. 'Another time' definitely didn't fit into Owen's MO of 'do now, wonder about the consequences later (or never)'. "Pity, throwing out your back was literally what I had in mind." Maybe flirting was useless if this whole thing was being postponed, or maybe it wasn't; Leo was still looking like a candidate for a late night call some days from now. Alternatively, they could just go with Leo's giddy little idea and take this to the car. A bit unusual seeing as they were standing on the doorstep of a place that looked like it hid more than dozens of rooms but whatever. Might as well but that stupid car to use. "Look at you, taking a bet and then agreeing to immorally use a car I got in a very immoral way." He didn't waver from Leo's stare, the last of the hard candy that had made this situation that much more hilarious melting in his mouth. "I'm almost impressed, betting virgin." Long legs carried him back down the first of the steps, towards the driveway and car in question. And yes, fitting the two of them inside would definitely be a hassle but Owen had worked - and succeeded - in worse conditions.

God, why did this guy have to point out everything he was dutifully trying to ignore in order to keep some semblance of his reputation intact? "Owen! Shut up! That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days." Leo huffed, folding his arms, but turned to follow him to the parking lot. Of course, he had no plans of doing anything about the things coming from his mouth even as the dirty talk continued, much less arguing since it all sounded like fun to him, even as his nose was still scrunching up and his face was hot. Everything was going smoothly. Owen became more and more handsome the more he spoke. But, all wrong (but good) things must come to an end, and the moment expired before it'd really begun. The link behind his ears, fresh and bloated like a leech after the earlier reminder to stay in his place, vibrated unhappily, and he twitched. Dharm was awake, probably pulled out of slumber by Leo's loud, anxious excitement over Owen, and instead of following the taller man off the porch, he froze in place, staring in the direction of his dad like if he tried hard enough, he'd see him through the walls. Fuck. And here he'd been hoping to see where this bet led before the serious stuff could happen. "Actually, you go ahead. I need to brush my teeth." Leo made his excuse and retreated back into the house, barely shutting the door behind him when he nearly ran into his dad, slightly rumpled, with the lantern in one ruined, burned hand and a pistol in the other. "Leo. Don't tell me I have to put the fear of God into that boy and chase him off my property," Dharm gritted out. Exhalation burned into shame, and while he hadn't necessarily been caught doing something wrong, the intention had been there, and Dharm knew it all too well from their connection. Leo avoided eye contact like the plague, taking the gun, flicking the safety back on; better it was in his hands than Dharm's, not wanting him to shoot on sight over something as trivial as attraction. "Let's go get him. He's strong. He'd make a great addition to our numbers," Leo said, almost pleading. He didn't realize how precarious the situation would become once Owen arrived, but it'd be worth it in the end, for all of them. Dharm nodded begrudgingly, and together, the two of them set off for the parking lot, one leisurely strolling and one wincing as the movement pulled at the brand on his back. There was Owen, looking like a picture of sin seated in the vehicle, waiting for him, and here he came with his dad, a weapon, and a Gift which would change his life forever. Dharm grew cold with anger, gaze shifting between the two like he was putting pieces of a puzzle together. Leo ignored the elder, grinning apologetically at Owen as he knocked on the car window with the handle of the pistol. "Owen, sweetie, I think this is a great time to introduce you to my dad. This is Dharm. Why don't you come out and meet him?" Leo tried to mimic the easy tone the two had earlier, but it was gone, instead replaced with something slightly frantic. He wanted so badly for this to go down without bloodshed. Dharm was silent, punctuating with an intense glower of disapproval aimed straight at Owen.

What a weirdo. Luckily, weirdness wasn’t enough to put Owen off, Leo was good looking and the slayer had nothing better to do. So he waited for Leo to return with dwindling amusement and considered driving away after being kept idle for a moment too long (patience was not one of Owen’s very few virtues) until Leo finally returned. With a gun and some company. Alright. Never a man to run from any sort of conflict, especially conflict that now had him mildly aggravated as he’d been promised something very different from a fight, Owen got out of the car with his hands raised and palms showing. “Shotgun wedding?” he asked as soon as he got out, looking the angry stranger up and down. No family resemblance there. Leo’s exact plans and motives were currently very unclear to Owen, who looked from this Dharm character to the gun to Leo’s panicked gaze. “Or is this some sort of cult thing? Letting a virgin kill an innocent?” Not that he was exactly innocent.

Leo's mouth twisted as Owen continued to mouth off, Dharm laughing short and bitter over the wedding comment. Then, quick, almost past what he could keep track of, with a single impulse echoing between them, Leo clicked the safety off and aimed the weapon at Owen's expensive, shiny shoe, firing, and striking true. It was a warning. He wanted to cry. His hands were shaking, but it refused to fall from them. This was bad, this was so much worse than anything he could've imagined, but at least the bullet went into his limb instead of his head. There was still hope that they could make it out of this. "We're not a cult, and you're not innocent," Dharm said in the way he did when he was growing very short on patience, needing everyone to listen close and cut the bullcrap. Grip tightening on the Relic, the elder wordlessly called on the spirit within. Leo's head swiveled to follow its invisible motion, from the lantern straight to Owen's head, curling around his mouth first, then his nose, and finally the rest of him, oozing, dripping with the dark intention of possession. Fleetingly, Leo wished he had a Gift of his own, so he could've just done the same thing minus the pistol, but as always, Dharm knew best, and it was far from his place to question that, even if it meant shooting his crush through the foot. "Fear makes believers of us all. You'd best embrace it," said his dad, now slightly smug.

Owen had always been warned that his big and ever-flapping mouth would get him in trouble, which it had, but it had never gotten him shot. He’d been shot, of course, but usually just through pure muscle and under circumstances of extreme stress where the adrenaline had made the bullet feel like a scratch. The shot hadn't been aimed at his chest or head, which was pretty important, but with the gun in Leo's hand the slayer hadn't been expecting it to go off, for some reason now completely unclear to him. Because the gun had gone off and it hadn't been raised high enough for his instincts to kick in and make sure a lead slug didn't travel through his fucking limbs. Owen's body tilted until it hit the car, pain surging up his leg for the briefest of seconds before the adrenaline kicked in to numb it. Not for long but long enough for his brain to come to the conclusion that mouthing off further was the best course of action here. "Noticed there was no correction on the 'virgin' part," he gritted out. A bad decision, obviously, but the searing ache in his foot and the fact that someone had made him dependant on a shitty fucking Corolla to stand was making him pretty pissed off. Bullet through his foot or not, he could definitely take down Leo and the old bag of dicks holding a lantern for some fucking reason, and Owen's arm braced against the car with offence in mind when something... else happened? Neither man had moved but it felt like acid (it? What was it?) as it attempted and then easily succeeded in shoving its way in through Owen's orifices. A hand to his face assured him that there was nothing present to cause the sensation but he was still choking on the nothing until he just wasn't. Without realizing it, the situation had brought him down on his ass, back leaning against the car as he panted and yeah; that bullet wound was really making its presence known now, wasn't it? Dharm spoke and the curse Owen had meant to spit back felt like it had been tugged away on an invisible string. Blood loss? Or just... sense? Believers... believing in whom? The faint and brand new echo in his head provided the answer; it was towering over him with a smug expression on his face. And for the first time since he could remember, Owen nodded - nodded meekly, even. Something deeper down, deeper even than the tugs and pulls and what felt like phantom emotions, the slayer could tell something was a bit off. He just couldn't quite grasp at the what.

Really? Owen was on the receiving end of a bullet and he still found the willpower to talk back? Leo sighed, free hand running over his temple as Dharm, somehow, grew angrier, twisting his hand cruelly to twist the spirit further into Owen, then called it back. Luckily though, as their newest initiate slid to the ground, seemingly cowed at last, Dharm was satisfied, straightening up and letting go of his anger. Leo was finally allowed to drop the gun, pity and concern surging up as the chokehold over his free will was finally ended, but still, he didn't move a muscle, didn't dare while his dad was still speaking. "Welcome to the Family, son. You should thank me. Without me, you'd be full of chaos." The words were accompanied with a proud grin and a swift kick to Owen's injured foot. "Watch how you talk to my son. Leo, bring him home and patch him up. I'd hate for him to suffer too long under our care." Dharm's expression, however, stated that he'd enjoy exactly that fate, and he turned on his heel, heading back to the house, apparently satisfied enough to seek sleep once again, leaving Leo to pick up the pieces. Only when the man completely fade from sight did Leo dare to move, stepping guiltily closer. Poor Owen. The Gift was a hard one to receive, and on top of being shot... but at least now he understood.

Welcome to the Family. The Family. A family Owen was sure he wasn't supposed to recognize but... he did. In a way. Or at the very least he felt them (somehow) and consequently knew his place within these ranks. A place he wasn't used to being in but there was no fighting back now; Owen was reminded of his worst encounter with the incubus and honestly, he felt similar as to when his soul had been pulled halfway out through his mouth. Just tired. And hurting. Apparently not enough, it seemed, as Dharm's foot made contact with Owen's. They slayer clenched his jaw, stifling a low growl that threatened to crawl up as a response. Whether he choked it down because of his regular stubbornness to not show he was in pain or just to not be insubordinate, he couldn't be sure. Everything was getting a little bit hazy. Had the bullet gone all the way through his foot? Was it blocking the bleeding just a bit or... probably not, he realized, as his attempt to drag himself to his feet via the hood of the car ended in his body failing him - the fucking traitor- and slumping into Leo's. The guy who had just shot him. But who had also given him a higher purpose, it seemed, so maybe it was okay. Thank fuck he was tall. "Gonna need... a raincheck on that bet," he wheezed out, throat feeling awful despite nothing corporeal having actually entered it. It was the angry little buzz inside his brain that made him finally shut up more so than his sore throat, so he reluctantly let his weight be hoisted by Leo. His bruised ego would be tended to when he wasn't literally bleeding out from his foot.

Leo bit back a groan as he caught Owen before he could fall again, back protesting loudly. If he were at full strength, he could've just hoisted him over his shoulder and walked him home, but for now, slinging his arm around his shoulder and holding him up by the waist would have to do. It could've gone worse, he reasoned, yet seeing the spitfire man silent, pale, and boneless was disconcerting. He shifted him, trying to find an angle that didn't pull so direly at the brand, only to be rewarded with something sharp and stiff to to the ribs. Right, it was probably a knife or something for defense, and Leo, not wanting to be prodded further, made the decision to pull it out and keep it in his pocket for safekeeping, only to find ... stakes? And a tiny skull-printed flask which seemed to be full of holy water? Was Owen a vampire slayer? If so, the whole situation just lightened up considerably. Along with hunters and wardens, slayers were treated exceedingly well within the Family, given purpose beyond what the average unskilled human received, allowed to rise through the ranks and become more equal, know more secrets, and have more power. "Don't worry about it. I'll be here." There was so much to talk about, but with Owen fading fast, it looked like their conversation would have to wait for another day. How on earth the attempted tryst lead to someone so perfect for their cause to join ranks was a mystery, but Leo was just glad Dharm didn't kill him. Patching up his poor bloody foot was an easy task, but to do it, the two of them needed to be somewhere safe and clean. Pocketing Owen's gear, he pulled him towards home.

#touchofchatzy #apaininyourneck #gun tw #blood tw #violence tw #chatzy: possess me daddy #// i don't know what to say #here it is yall

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sterekloveaffairs · 7 years ago

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Torn - Castiel (Part 1)

Author: sterekloveaffairs

Ship: Castiel x reader

Warnings: blood, angst, injury, swearing

Word Count: 2.161

My hair was sticky from the blood -don’t worry, not mine- and I tried not to limp too much on my sprained ankle. This time it had only been one vampire, miles and miles away from his nest, but I had to admit he was very… persistent. I was looking forward to a long, hot shower and then I’d go to bed, even if it was only three in the afternoon. I had been awake for nearly 48 hours, so I could use a little nap. And then tomorrow, I’d see what the universe would throw my way.

My body jerked up, and it took me a few seconds to realise that it was my phone that had rudely interrupted my sleep. I let out a sigh and put the knife back under my pillow. Hey, what can I say, it’s a reflex. What idiot would call me at… Oh, 7pm. My head was pounding, and for once that was not caused by a reasonable amount of alcohol, but simply by a serious lack of sleep. I groaned and answered my phone, without even looking at the number.

“What?”

“Y/N?” I immediately sat up straight in the bed, kicking the sheets off.

“Dean?” This was the last voice I ever expected to hear. I hadn’t heard of him in a year, and I firmly believed that I never would get another call of him.

“Hi, sweetheart. I need to ask you a favour.” He sounded serious, and within seconds I had jumped out of bed, put the phone on speaker and started getting dressed.

“Sure, anything.” I knew he would never call me without a good reason, and I got chills when I remembered that he had tried to live a normal life. The fact that he gave me a call now, could only mean that there was serious trouble.

“How soon can you be at Bobby’s?” I stuffed all my belongings in my bag and put on my shoes.

“By midnight, just finished up a hunt. Dean, what’s going on?” I grabbed my car keys from the table and slammed the door behind me to hurry to my truck, my phone clenched between my shoulder and cheek.

“It’s Sam. He’s back.”

Despite the seething pain in my ankle and the not even nearly sufficing amount of sleep I had, I was wide awake during the drive. The engine was roaring and I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins. Sam was back. That was all Dean had told me, and all he wanted to say on the phone. My mind was racing, I could not wrap my head around it. Sam had been locked inside Lucifer’s cage, how could he be back? Were they even sure that it was really Sam? And if it was him, how the hell did he get out? For a moment, I suspected Dean to have made another deal with whatever obscure creature he could find, but then again, Dean had promised he wouldn’t do that. He went to Lisa’s, and he had turned his back to his past. But really, was it realistic for me to expect Dean to just leave his brother to burn in hell, locked up with Lucifer and Michael? That wasn’t like Dean at all.

The last few miles started to weigh down on me, and I had already kicked off my boot to relieve the pain in my ankle. That bloodsucker had given me a hard time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I broke a few bones. When I finally saw the dark shadows of Bobby’s scrapyard appear, I nearly cried tears of happiness. It felt like home, and it was only then that I realised how much I had missed Bobby. I didn’t even try to put my shoe back on, if the dark purple swelling was telling me anything, it was that I should either ice it first and wait for it to go down, or find a bigger boot. My truck creaked loudly when I swung the door open, and even louder when I shoved it shut behind me. No time to take anything but the weapons I had on me. I hobbled up the steps to Bobby’s porch, and I swung the door open without even thinking. The guns swinging in my direction, feel as good as coming home. I smile and raise up my hands.

“Relax boys, I thought I was invited,” I say with a smirk. Bobby walks towards me, faster than his age could have you thinking and the next thing I felt was the expected splash of holy water in my face. I wiped my eyes and threw my arms around Bobby, and we both forgot about the silver check.

“It’s good to see you again, Bobby,” I said, “It’s been too long.”

“You too, kid.” I let go of him, and I saw Dean raising his eyebrows and staring at my foot.

“I know I asked you to hurry, but you could have stopped to pick up your other boot, you know.” I rolled my eyes and hugged him too. His grip was tight, as if he was afraid I would disappear.

“Are you okay?” Bobby asked. Once Dean had mentioned it, it was hard for the older man to ignore my obvious injury.

“Yeah, nasty vamp, that’s all,” I could tell that Bobby was about to argue, but then I noticed the man who it was all about. He was standing in the corner, and I couldn’t really identify the look in his eyes.

“Sam?” I asked, “Is it really you?” He smiled at me, and it didn’t take me two seconds to cross the small distance between us and wrap my arms around his neck. The hug felt uncomfortable, but maybe that’s what I should’ve expected after not seeing him for a year. He did hug me back, and it felt good to have him so close to me again. Whenever I was feeling down, Sam was always the one to comfort me. Dean was more the pat-on-the-back-and-awkward-there-there-mumbling kind of guy.

“How did you get out of that mess?” I mumbled into his flannel while his big hands rubbed my back.

“I don’t know,” he said. I pushed my hands against his chest and frowned while I looked up at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I just don’t know. I don’t know who did it, or why.” I squinted my eyes, I couldn’t quite say what it was, but there was something about the way he was talking, that was different. But maybe that’s what hell did to someone. I know what it had done to Dean. And Sam had been locked up with two pissed off angels, so I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like. But there was something else. Bobby was way too relaxed with all this. Dean just seemed to be happy his brother was back, but Bobby? The Bobby Singer I knew would have locked Sam up for days, trying to be a billion percent sure that it wasn’t some sick doppelganger. And yet, Sam was standing there, and Bobby had his back turned towards him.

“How long have you been back?” I asked sharply. Dean opened the freezer and took out a bag of ice, but when he wanted to give it to me, I pushed him away.

“How long, Sam? Answer me!” Sam swallowed and looked at his brother.

“A year,” he finally said. A year. A whole god damn year. Sam Winchester had been walking around this whole time I was grieving for him, every day I woke up and felt this pain in my chest.

“And what, you lost my number?” I snapped, “what the hell is wrong with you?” I wanted to punch him, kick him, hurt him, but as soon as I took a step forward, Dean pulled me back and pushed me down into a chair.

“Sit down, damn it!” He yelled before sitting down next to me and holding up my leg, making me wince when he forcefully pressed down the ice on my ankle. The cold sensation was almost painful, but I knew I’d be grateful when my foot had gone numb, because honestly, it hurt like a mother fucker.

“But Dean, he never told me that- Wait a second, you never told me either!” I slapped his arm, he glared at me.

“Because I didn’t know,” he grunted. My jaw dropped and I knew my eyes were about the size of the wheels under my truck.

“When did he tell-“

“Yesterday, okay.” Dean was obviously not pleased, and let’s be honest, who would be? I just couldn’t believe that Sam never told his own brother that he was back. How could he have done that? I haven’t seen Dean in a year, but the last time I saw him, he was a broken man. He was in agony, and Sam just let him suffer. I glanced at Bobby, and he definitely knew for longer than a day.

“What about you, old man?” I snarled.

“I went to Bobby when I got back,” Sam said softly. Bobby was squinting his eyes at me, and I knew I was challenging him with the way I spoke to him. I didn’t give a rat’s ass. He should have told me.

“And none of you even thought of picking up a god damn phone and call me?”

“You were going to tell Dean,” Bobby said.

“Of course I would tell Dean! I am absolutely stunned that you guys didn’t, how could you? Dean is your brother, Sam, he was devastated when you were gone, and-“

“And he had finally gotten away!” Sam barked. Sam had never, ever, yelled at me. And it hurt me a lot more than I thought it would. Dean had yelled at me plenty of times, so had Bobby, and hell, I yelled at the three of them more than I remembered. But Sam? Sam never yelled at me. I hated myself when I felt my throat clench, and I turned myself away from the youngest brother.

“Dude,” Dean mumbled. I ignored the look he gave me, because I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, and I most definitely didn’t want Dean to see the hurt in mine.

“Sorry. It’s just… Dean was out. He was living a normal life.”

“We wanted to keep it that way,” Bobby added.

“And I get that. But that didn’t really work out, now did it? Considering the fact that Dean called me and now we’re all just sitting here again, except for Cas.” By the time I realised what I had said, none of them were paying attention anymore. Cas. Was he still gone too? I was wondering about him. I didn’t even know if he was still alive…

“Dean? What’s with all the yelling?” A woman was coming down the stairs, and by the way she glanced at the hands that were softly stroking my leg, I could tell that this was probably Lisa.

“Lisa, this is Y/N,” he said, not even realising that sitting this close to me might be a reason for many women to get upset. Lisa’s face softened, and she smiled at me.

“Dean told me a lot about you,” she said, before looking at the ice pack and walking to the counter to make a cup of tea, “are you hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle, nothing that will kill me,” I said. I was feeling kind of proud that Dean had told her about me. After all, we had been hunting together for years, even before Sam joined his brother again. We had saved each other’s asses more than we could count, and I trusted Dean with my life.

“Yeah, if I had known you were hurt, I wouldn’t have called you,” Dean mumbled. I glared at him, slapped his arm again.

“Just because I haven’t bust your brains out yet doesn’t mean I won’t still do it,” I hissed.

“Dean is right, you have to get better first,” Bobby said. I rolled my eyes.

“Guys, I didn’t even feel it until I was halfway down here,” I said (obvious lie, but hey, lying is part of the job), but when Dean quickly removed the ice pack and poked my skin, I flinched.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/L/N,” he muttered before putting the ice back in place.

“Why did you call me anyways? Why are you not in your white picket fence house living a normal life?” Dean frowned.

“There’s stuff going on, weird stuff. And with Sammy coming back, well, I figured I could use your help.”

“Good thinking, Winchester,” I smirked. Lisa chuckled, before giving a cup to Dean and going back upstairs with her own. I bit my lip not to laugh, and Dean frowned.

“What?”

“Really, Dean? Tea?”

“Shut up.”

#castiel #supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #bobby singer #fanfiction #castiel x reader #castiel x you #angst #fluff #season 6 #Soulless!Sam #castiel fanfic #misha collins #jensen ackles #jared padalecki

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justachorusgirl96 · 8 years ago

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Shower Surprise (part3)

Author’s notes: Ok, so I finally got around to watching season 12 and realized that this is not cannon at all and that I have inadvertently stolen the setup for this from @sdavid09 because I was inspired by one of her fics. I am so sorry. The cannon storyline is kind of a disappointment actually, but this is why I should stay caught up because then I actually know whats going on. Anyways, sorry this took so long; I know where I'm going with the story, it's just taking me forever to write it out. Also, I wrote it and then just forgot to post it... Please don't hate me! I'll try to be better. Love you guys, I really do!

Summary: You’re taking a shower after a bad hunt and fantasizing about a certain archangel, when it accidentally turns into a prayer, one that he answers.

Warnings: Language, slight confrontation, talk of injuries and physical violence, stuff

Word count: 1823 (I’ll try to work on making them longer)

Pairing: Reader x Lucifer

A/n: As always, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Need to get caught up? Master list

You emerged from your room a couple of hours later, hair still damp and un brushed, wearing your usual old hoodie and some pajama shorts. Your bare feet made almost no sound as you made your way down the long hall to the library. You could hear the gang before you reached them.

“You can’t be serious?”

“I’m tellin you man, new body, new virginity!”

You rounded the corner to find Dean and Gabriel engaging in a playful argument while Sam and Cas looked on. They all turned to look when you entered.

“Oh good, you’re out! Took you long enough.” Dean said with a mischievous grin. “I was just telling Gabe here that his new body comes with a new virginity. Now you’re not the only one in the bunker. The two of you could start a club!” He added with a chuckle.

Well that’s ironic... You felt a little heat rise in your cheeks and hoped no one would notice. “Yeah, not sure I’m really the ‘club’ type. I’m more the ‘suffer in silence’ kind of girl.” You offered with a nervous chuckle and an awkward glance at the elder Winchester. You felt the hair at the base of your neck prickle and shifted your gave to the source of the discomfort. Gabriel. He was staring a hole right through you. Shit, he can’t possibly know. The exchange seemed to be lost of everyone else in the room.

“Hey umm, Y/N, what happened to your injuries? You got beat up worse than the rest of us and now you seem just fine.” Sam cut in with that confused puppy dog look of his. You just had to ask didn’t you? “Gabriel’s been waiting to heal you since we got back.”

Dammit, I should have just stayed in my room. “Oh, that was nice of you Gabe, but Lucifer stopped by and took care of that already. Thanks tho-”

“What do you mean ‘Lucifer stopped by’?” Dean demanded.

“Exactly what it sounds like asshole,” you shot back.

“Oh so he just happened to stop by and decided to be nice and fix you up did he? What was he even doing here?”

“Yes, that’s pretty much exactly what happened!” You lied. “And he’s here a lot actually, you just ignore his existence unless he’s useful to you for something. He stopped by my room to inquire about a particular book from the library since I’m the only one who ever willingly talks to him. He saw that I was injured and healed me, plain and simple.” Please stop asking questions!

“Yeah, well I don’t like it. You should have waited for Gabriel to heal you.”

“We’re just worried that you might be messing with fire here. It is Lucifer after all.” Sam added.

You were indignant at that statement. “What difference does it make who healed me? It was a kind gesture and I was in serious pain. And no one bothered to let me know that Gabe was here to heal me so your argument is pretty invalid. I don’t have to justify this to you anyways; it’s already done.” You declared with a defiant glare. Damn were your brothers hard to get along with sometimes.

No one seemed to have anything to add and you fidgeted uncomfortably for a few moments before an escape plan came to mind. “I’m pretty hungry so I’m gonna head down to the kitchen. You guys want anything?” You asked as a peace offering.

Dean’s tone softened and he relaxed a bit. “Nah, we got tired of waiting for you to get out of the shower so we ate already. I left you a couple of burgers in the fridge.”

“Awesome sauce! I”m gonna go eat that and then probably go to bed. This has been a pretty exhausting day.” As you turned to leave your eyes locked with Gabriel’s and you knew he wasn’t about to let this go. You noticed that Cas looked incredibly uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet your gaze and wondered what exactly was bothering him as well.

A few minutes later you were standing at the counter in the kitchen finishing off your cold burger when you heard footsteps coming down the hall, not just one pair, but two. Turning around you saw Castiel, uncomfortable and sullen as ever, followed closely by a very serious looking Gabriel. “Hey guys, whats up?” you asked trying to keep your voice casual and failing for the most part. Something in Gabriel’s expression was making you extremely nervous.

“Lets drop the pretenses and just be honest sweetcheeks? I know- that is, we know- that you just popped your cherry, and we know who popped it.” Gabe’s voice was flat and serious, lacking all of its usual humor. “Do you have any idea what kind of a dangerous game you’re playing?” There was no mistaking the worry in his tone.

You felt a little defensive at suddenly being called out on something so personal. “I’m not playing any kind of ‘game’. And its none of your business if I’m being intimate with anyone or who that anyone is.”

Gabe put his hands up submissively, “Hey, I’m not trying to tell you who you should and should not be intimate with; its your body, your rules. But I don’t have to like it or pretend that it doesn’t worry me.” His tone was softer and it was clear he wasn’t looking to pick a fight. “You’re my friend, my best friend in fact, and I care about you a great deal. Now I know my brother, and I know how much of a massive bag of dicks he is. I also know his feelings for you are very real and I think you’re good for him. But you need to be extremely careful; I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

This was really feeling like some sort of strange intervention. “Guys, I appreciate that you care so much about me, but really I’m fine. I can take care of myself and I really don’t think that Lucifer would hurt me.” You allowed your own tone to soften and ease some of the tension in the air.

“I agree, you can definitely take care of yourself. And I don’t think Luci would hurt you either. That’s not what I was talking about. What I meant was-”

“Nephilim are forbidden.” Castiel cut in, breaking his silence at last. “If you were to conceive accidentally, the armies of heaven would hunt you and the abomination mercilessly, and there would be nothing any of us could do to protect you.”

Castiel’s blunt explanation left an awkward cloud over the conversation. You were the first to speak. “I see. Thank you for that.. brutal analysis Castiel, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. I couldn’t conceive if I wanted to.” The two angles looked worried and confused so you continued. “When Dean and Sam found me, I had been taken by a vampire who was using me as a living blood bag and was planning on starting a nest with me as his first convert.” You closed your eyes and the memories flooded back to you. “He was incredibly violent and would often beat me when there was nothing else to do; which was often. Somehow during one of the beatings he damaged my uh... my womb, and now I am incapable of conceiving a child.”

Upon opening your eyes you saw that Gabriel looked completely taken aback, a look of most profound sadness in his eyes. Castiel already knew this story, but still wore a similar expression.

“Y/N, I- uh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… But still, you should be cautious. Lucifer is an Archangel and anything could happen. The nephilim offspring of a lesser angel is incredible dangerous, but might stay hidden and go unnoticed for a while, but the offspring of an Archangel would have astronomical powers and and you would have no hope of avoiding detection. I don’t want to see my best friend get hunted down by my siblings.”

You stepped forward and pulled first Castiel, then Gabriel into a warm embrace. “Thank you for looking out for me. I promise I’ll be careful. That doesn’t sound like much fun to me either.” You forced a lighthearted tone into your voice, even though you were now incredibly worried. “Just don’t tell my brothers ok?”

“Pshh,” Gabe huffed, “I may be a jerk, but I’m not that much of a jerk! And you should get some rest now. He may have healed you but you still need to recover your strength. And I’m sure your ‘extracurricular activities’ didn’t help.” He added with a wink.

“Oh whatever!” You shoved him playfully on the arm. “Actually, that’s not bad advice ‘cause I’m exhausted. I think I will just go ahead and go to bed. I’ll see y'all in the morning.” And with that you padded off down the hall to your room, leaning against the door and releasing a long sigh once you were inside. Well technically that could have been worse.

Wasting no time, you rushed through your evening routine and soon found yourself comfortably nestled under the covers, sleep already tugging at your eyelids. A sudden rustle of wings brought you back to alertness. There he was again, Lucifer, stretched out next to you like he had been there the whole time. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my guardian angel again. Two visits in one day. What did I do to deserve that?”

“Well thats definitely the first time anyone has ever called me that.” He said with a chuckle. Lucifer paused for a while before reaching out and grasping your shoulder. “I was actually thinking that it might be better if I stayed with you more often; I’d get to see you, and it would be easier for me to keep you safe.”

“Oh, ok yeah, that sounds… umm…” What am I even supposed to say to that?

“You don’t want me around more often?” There was no mistaking the pain in his voice.

“No, no I do! I want you around as often as you like. I just also don’t want my brothers to figure out that we’re together yet. I need time to tell them properly. If you’re suddenly by my side all the time, well… I mean they’re not complete idiots; they will figure it out eventually. We just have to be smart about it; take it slow so you not just suddenly there. But,“ you paused, reaching out and grasping his face, "You can spend all the time you want in here.”

With that you pushed the angel flat on his back and rolled over on top of him. Leaning in close enough for your lips to barely brush the side of his ear you whispered, "And we can do whatever we want in here."

@sdavid09, @ravengirl94, @lucifer-in-leather

#supernatural #fanfic #lucifer #reader insert #lucifer x reader #shower surprise #first time #First Fic

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impala-dreamer · 8 years ago

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Fix You - Chapter Four

SPN FanFic

~ After being gone for months, Y/N has returned home to the boys with no memory of their life together.~

Reader, Dean, Sam, Castiel

2,266 Words Warnings: Ouchies, Angst, Crying, the same

SERIES MASTERLIST ~ MY MASTERLIST

Chapter Four- Coming Around:

Deciding to remember was one thing. Actually doing it was another.

You spent your days running through the Bunker, touching everything, picking up random objects, turning doorknobs, doing anything you could think of to trigger another memory. Sure, a few things came back, but it was stupid stuff that you didn’t think you needed. Trips to the grocery store, every cold you’d suffered for the last three years, nights lying awake staring at various ceilings, gallons of beer and whiskey complete with their accompanying hangovers.

One morning while brushing your teeth, you sparked back to every motel bathroom you’d ever stayed in. The thought grossed you out so much you spent an extra half hour in the shower trying to scrub away the memory of filthy sheets and stained towels.

While helping Dean check the oil on the Impala, you got hit with every turn you’d ever had at the wheel, which amazingly was quite a few, and you opened your eyes to find yourself crouched on the floor of the garage, cradled in Dean’s strong arms. It seemed the more memory got crammed into your head, the harder it got; the pain grew worse with each remembrance and you found yourself almost scared after a while to touch or do anything. But you had to press on, you had to figure things out; you had to get Dean back.

He had been great through it all, always by your side when you needed him; all though you could still see how much it pained him when you pulled away, how much he needed you. You’d asked him a few times in the beginning to tell you stories of your time together, but he declined; whether it hurt him to talk about it, or he was trying to give you an easy out, you weren’t sure. After a while you stopped asking and just went with the flow, spending as much time with him as you could. He was fun to be around, cracking stupid jokes and being generally attentive.

While laughing over lunch on Friday, Sam came running into the kitchen with an excited smile. “Found us a case!” he explained, dropping a print out of his findings on the table in front of you.

“Oh, yes!” you said, glancing over the articles. “Four dead bodies, exsanguinated… sounds like a fun field trip.” You grinned and looked up at Dean who did not share your enthusiasm. He wiped the sandwich crumbs from his hands and sat back, beer in hand.

“You think you’re ready to go out on a case Y/N?”

You shrugged, “I guess so, why not?” You looked between the brothers, Sam’s excitement falling as he considered your condition. “Hey, it’s clearly vamps, right? I know how what to do, you swing the blade, knock their heads off. Easy peasy.”

Sam sighed, “Y/N, Dean might be right. Knowing what to do and doing it are two different things. You still don’t remember any hunts, so technically, you have zero fighting skills right now. It might be too dangerous.”

You stood up, offended. “Don’t ‘technically’ me Sam! I can do it!”

Dean crossed his arms and frowned, “Fine, you think you’re ready; prove it.”

Proving it wasn’t as easy as you thought. You followed Dean down into the bowels of the Bunker as he lead you to the gun range. He stopped in the center booth and took out his pistol, checking the chamber and clicking the safety off. He took aim and shot twice, hitting the far off bullseye perfectly. You jumped, startled by the sound; it was so much louder than you’d ever imagined. Dean smiled and handed you the gun.

Your heart was racing; you’d never touched a gun before. Well, as far as you could remember. In fact you’d spent your life avoiding them. “Is this completely necessary? You don’t shoot vampires, Dean.”

“It is if you want to get back out there. Now take the gun and shoot the damn thing.” He shook his hand, and by default the gun, holding the handle out for you to take.

You took a deep breath and reached for the gun; wrapping your hand around it. It was heavy and felt awkward. Dean moved aside and let you get in position. You had no idea what you were doing, so you did what you’d seen in movies. You held the gun aloft in both hands, closing one eye as you aimed at the blank form at the other end of the room.

You sucked in another breath and froze, your fingers refusing to pull the trigger. “Yeah, I can’t do this.” You lowered the weapon and looked at Dean. He was leaning against the partition staring at you.

“You can. You’re a really good shot Y/N/N. Just relax and do it.”

“And if I do this, you’ll let me go hunting?”

He nodded and waved his hand towards the target.

“OK. I got this.” You squared your shoulders and rolled your neck, loosening up a bit. Again you raised the gun and took aim, this time squeezing the trigger as your exhaled.

You did not hear the deafening shot; didn’t feel the slight recoil of the pistol, did not see your bullet pierce the bullseye dead center. As soon as your fingers closed over the cold metal trigger, your head exploded with pain. It ripped through you, blinding you with flashes of every hunt, every monster, every fight you’d ever been in. The gun fell to the ground as you clutched your head, fighting through the searing pain to remain upright. As the headache subsided, the real pain began. Your body shook, your skin on fire as you felt every kick, punch, stab, and gunshot. Every slam against a wall, every knock over the head, every fall, every injury you’d ever sustained hit you at once. The scars you’d seen on your body and their causes flooded over you, crippling you with pain. You screamed, falling to your hands and knees on the cold floor. Dean sank with you, his hands flying to your shoulders trying to comfort you, but the simple touch was torturous. Every inch of you was screaming; it felt as though your flesh was being torn apart. You fell to the floor, the cold cement stinging your hot cheek. Dean’s face weaved in and out of your vision as you faded; the throbbing agony of your memories forcing you into unconsciousness.

You woke up in Dean’s arms, your head slumped against his neck, bouncing as he ran you through the Bunker. The jostling hurt, but the dull ache was tolerable compared to the stabbing visions that had wrecked you moments before.

“Put me down,” you whispered hoarsely, your throat burning as you spoke.

Dean ignored you, tightening his grip around your shoulders and legs. Sam stood up from his place at the glowing table as Dean brought you into the War Room.

“Dean! Put me down!” you said louder, pushing against his chest with your free hand.

He stopped set you down, keeping his hand on your arm as you swayed a little and stood up straight. “I’m sorry, you passed out.”

“Obviously,” your voice was hard and mean, but you were still in pain. Every scar burned with phantom fire.

The sound of invisible wings filled the room and you looked up to see the blue eyed man from the motel room standing next to Sam. He looked as you remembered, rumpled suit and trenchcoat, a concerned look wrinkling his forehead as he looked at you.

“Dean, what happened?” his voice was low and flat; the sound scared you a bit.

“She had another flashback and collapsed,” Dean explained, running his hand through his short hair. He looked tired, exhausted by everything.

“Hey!” you spoke up, “She is right here and she can speak for herself.” You groaned as another bout of pain pulled at your sides. You teetered and grabbed Dean’s shoulder for stability. Immediately he took your arm and helped you into a chair; you fell down into it, your head rolling back as you tried to stay calm and breathe through the pain.

“Cas, man, you gotta do something. Just do your whammy thing. This has to stop.” Dean stood over you, pleading with the man to help you. Though how, you couldn’t fathom.

“Dean, we still don’t know what the demon did to her, if I push her memory back…”

“Whoa, hold on there cowboy!” You threw your hands up, stopping their conversation. You were panting, out of breath, but not having any of their talking around you. “Talk to me. What the hell is going on? How can you help me?”

“He’s an angel,” Sam told you.

“An angel, OK. Great. Whammy me. I’m ready.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s wise.”

You tried to stand up, aggravated by his unwillingness to help you, but you were pushed back down by the soreness, cringing as your skin pulled and twisted against the scars. Dean fell to his knees next to you, looking up at you with just as much pain on his face as you were feeling. “Damn it Cas! Just do something!” he yelled.

The angel sighed and came towards you, lifting his hand to your forehead. You pulled away, unsure of what was happening. Dean’s hand closed reassuringly around yours and you smiled, thankful to have him there. Cas pressed two fingers to your head and you closed your eyes as a wave of cool light washed through you. The brightness pulsed behind your eyes and down through your body, soothing every ache and eliminating every pain. It was as if the slate was wiped clean. As the pain eased, your mind raced with fresh memories. The visions returned, for the first time with no pain. You smiled as he pulled away and you opened your eyes to see your friend looking down upon you.

You jumped to your feet and embraced him, pulling him into a firm hug. “Castiel!”

He closed his arms around you and patted your back gently. “Hello, Y/N.”

“I can’t believe I forgot you. I’m so sorry.”

Dean stood, his face filled with hope. “You remember Cas?” He was smiling, giddy with anticipation. “Is it back? Is everything…?”

You let the angel go and turned to the green eyed Winchester. You bit your lip and looked down at your feet, not wanting to disappoint him with your confession. Cas was back, Sam was back, everything was back; everything but Dean.

He saw it in your face, the hurt filling him anew, and he stormed off, leaving you with Cas and Sam, his boots echoing down the long hallway.

“What the hell?” You asked, looking at your friends. “Why can’t I remember him? What am I doing wrong?”

“It’s not your fault Y/N,” Sam assured you. “Whatever happened, whatever the demon did to you, it’s…” He rubbed at the back on his neck, not sure how to finish.

“You don’t understand Sam. I remember everything now. Every second, every moment of the last three years, including when that bastard had me. But… there’s blank spots. It’s like there’s a cut out in my mind, a Dean shaped hole that’s just blank. I have to get him back.”

“Whatever he did to you, we can try to fix it.” Cas spoke up, his head tilted down as he looked into your eyes.

“No, you’re not listening to me. I know what he did!” You shook your head, running your hands down your face, exasperated and tired of the whole ordeal. “He didn’t do anything to me. It was the usual stuff, tied me up, tried to make me talk, threatened me. A few stabs here and there, a whole lot of punching. But he didn’t do anything. There was no spell or magic forgetting potion. There’s no good reason that I should have forgotten you all. There’s no good reason that he should be gone like this.” You choked on the last few words, losing your battle against your tears. They slid down your cheeks, hot and wet, falling onto the floor.

Sam came to you and scooped you into his arms. You let yourself cry against him; knowing it was OK to do, knowing he never minded your tears on his shirt. He smoothed your hair back with one big hand and held you tight. “If that’s true, then it’s just traumatic shock Y/N; and that’s actually good. You’ll get it back.”

You pushed away, annoyed at his calmness. “You keep saying ‘that’s good’, ‘it’ll be fine’. It’s not good Sam!”

“Y/N…”

“No! This sucks! This is the worst thing! Don’t you see what I’m doing to him? He won’t talk to me! He won’t tell me anything. He’s drowning in there and he won’t tell me why. And the worst part is, I don’t even care that much! I don’t know him. He’s a stranger to me; sure it’s sad that he’s sad, but it’s not nearly as upsetting to me as I think it should be. How can someone look at me like he does and I don’t know the reasons why?”

Sam had no words; Castiel was silent. They both looked at you with pained faces, unable to answer your questions. You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath. There was only one person who had answers, and you were going to make him talk to you whether he liked it or not.

Forevers: @1-800-misha @amanda-teaches @arryn-nyx @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @bea789 @because-imma-lady-assface @babypieandwhiskey @blanketmadeofstar @brewsthespirit-blog @britt-spn @bulletscrossbowpie @charliebradbury1104 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498 @cici0507 @clairese1980 @collectivekiera @cosmicpeanuthologram @createdbybadappreciation @cyrilconnelly @dannnyphantomm @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @demonangelimpala @docharleythegeekqueen @dustycelt @evyiione @faithfulpanicmoon @feelmyroarrrr @flowermisha @freaksforthewin @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @gemini75eeyore @ghostkitty1103 @hamartiamacguffin @im-super-potter-locked @inmysparetime0 @jpadjackles @jotink78 @kristaparadowski @katrodriguez99 @lavendellove @love-kittykat21 @luciisthebest @mamaredd123 @mogaruke @megafrontliner311 @megansescape @mija-novella @milkymilky-cocopuff @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-life-is-here-soo @myfand0msandm0re @mysteriouslyme81 @naadestiel @notesfromalabprincess @notnaturalanahi @obi-wan-my-only-ho @pain-of-artifice @percussiongirl2017 @percywinchester27 @petrovadixon @pinknerdpanda @poukothenerd @riddikulus-obsessions @riversong-sam @sam-winchesters-long-locks @scxrchy @smoothdogsgirl @spectaculicious @spontaneousam @summer-binging-spn @superbasementflower @supernaturallymarvellous @supernaturalyobessed @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @thecynicalnerd @the-latina-trickster @therewillbeblood @tom-is-in-my-tardis @typicalweirdbookworm @thegreatficmaster @vine-colored-assbutt @whatareyousearchingfordean @wi-deangirl77 @wvnchxstxr @xxthevampirediariesexpertxx @yearoftheweasley @youtubehelpsmesurvive @yvngkinggchristyy

FIX YOU Tags: @maraisabellegrey @raylin19 @dean-the-smol-bean @luckynumbrnelly @attractiverandomness @maddieburcham1 @fernwinchester326

#spn fanfic #angst #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #series #reader insert

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greenappleeyes · 8 years ago

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Secret Lives (Part 1)

Words: 1.4k

Summary: You, a hunter, meet Castiel as Steve and quickly become friends.

A/N:This part is more of a prologue. The rest of the series will focus on what happens in relationships with too many secrets. Part 2 will be posted in a day or so. The tag list is at the end, let me know if you want to be added.

—————

“Shit shit shit!” you panted as you ran through the dark alleyway. You had taken on too much with this hunt. It should have been a simple hack-n-slash vamp kill, but they caught you off guard. You were lucky to escape, but you were now unarmed, bleeding, and they were bound to find you again if you didn’t figure something out, quickly.

You found door, propped open with a brick. “Jackpot!” You slipped in and closed the door behind you as quietly as possible.

Looking around for possible weapons, you found yourself in the back room of a convenience store. It wasn’t likely that you’d find a decent weapon here, but it was a place to hide until the store opened in the morning.

You shuffled around in the dark, looking for a flashlight, when you tripped over something on the floor. Something that grunted loudly as you kicked it. “Shit!” you whispered loudly.

Suddenly, there was a tall figure standing in front of you. “Wha… who are you? What are you doing here?” He sounded more guilty than angry.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not robbing the store. I just needed a place to hide out for a moment.” You figured the truth, well as much truth as you could give to a regular person, would be better than a lie.

“You’re in trouble.” It was more of a statement of recognition than a question. He turned on a small camping lamp to bring a dim glow to the room. You could now see the, very attractive, man standing before you. He looked you over and noticed the blood covering your shirt. “Are you hurt?”

Most of the blood on your shirt was not your own, but you had been wounded during the fight. “It’s not that bad. You don’t have a first aid kit do you?”

He nodded and showed you to the bathroom to help clean and dress your wounds. “Can I ask what happened?”

You winced at the sting of the alcohol he dabbed on your wrist while trying to figure a good way to explain what happened. “It’s a complicated story. Um… thanks for helping me. Most people would have been freaked out and probably called the cops. So thanks for that. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He understood how you felt, not wanting to share too much of his own complicated story to a stranger. “Steve. My name is Steve. I’m happy to help.” He really was happy to be useful. After losing his grace, he found it was hard to feel like he could help anyone anymore. He thought about how he could have just placed his hand on you to heal your wounds and could have easily taken out whatever was chasing you. He sighed at the thought that he could at least show some kindness and make you feel more comfortable.

“Nice to meet you Steve. So, is it cool if I hide out here until morning? I don’t want to get you in trouble here, but I’m really in a bind.” You hated asking for help, it felt like it was almost against hunter code. But somehow Steve seemed different, more understanding to your situation.

You both made your way back into the storage room. “I have to open the store in 4 hours. My boss won’t be here until 11am, so you can stay here until then. You look like you could use some rest; you should try and sleep. I only have the one sleeping bag, but you are welcome to use it.” He smiled as he gestured to his little makeshift bed.

You immediately felt pity for him. He was living in the back room of the convenience store he worked at. All he owned probably fit into a backpack and here he was offering his only place to sleep, to you. “I can’t, Steve. I’m ok. I’ve slept on concrete before. You keep your bed. I really owe you one, here. I promise I will return the favor.” You laid on the cool floor next to him as he crawled back into his sleeping bag. You both fell asleep rather quickly now that the adrenaline from earlier had worn off.

————

You woke up suddenly when you felt a hand lightly shake your shoulder. “Y/N, you should wake up and eat something. Would you like some coffee?” You looked up to see Steve crouched next to you and his sleeping bag was covering you like a blanket.

Standing up and stretching, you yawned out “You must be an angel! I’d love some coffee, thank you.”

His eyes went wide with panic for a moment before he smiled and laughed awkwardly. “I… I’m just Steve.”

In the light of the day, you could see his features much more clearly and damn, if you weren’t impressed. “Ok, Steve. Thanks for the coffee. I should be getting out of your hair before your boss gets here. I’m going to be sticking around in town at the long-stay motel by the highway for a week or so. We should grab a drink or something after your shift.”

He smiled and nodded, “Yes. That sounds pleasant.”

————

You managed to take out the menacing vampires, now that you knew exactly who and where they were. Normally you would have moved on to the next case, but you thought that a little down time would do you well; especially if you could spend it with the sweet, hot, sales associate from the Gas-n-sip. You had exchanged numbers and hoped he might call you, but he seemed shy. You decided to take a little trip back to the store, going in the front door this time.

Approaching the store, you could see him through the window. He smiled and greeted you warmly when you pushed the door open. “Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling? Are you healing well?”

You blushed, you actually blushed. In your line of work, no one would have questioned your injuries unless you were practically dying. Cuts that didn’t even require stitching would have been easily forgotten. “Uh… yeah. Thanks, they’re healing just fine. How.. um… how are you?” You internally cringed at how you sounded like a awkward teenager.

He either didn’t notice your awkwardness or didn’t care. “I am well, thank you. I am finished with my shift in 10 minutes if you’d still like to grab that drink?”

You nodded, “Yeah. There’s a little café across the street, I’ll grab us a table and you can meet me over there.”

————

Talking with Steve felt so much easier than it was with others. You both had your odd quirks the neither one of you judged. You couldn’t tell why, but he put you at ease and you seemed to have a similar effect on him. He was very intelligent, well spoken, and funny in an odd way that you adored.

As the sun began to set, you both shifted at the realization that you should probably call it a night. You figured he would end up hanging out somewhere until he could sneak back into his workplace to sleep on the floor. You couldn’t stand the thought of it, now that you knew how sweet of a person he was. “Hey, this might sound odd; but my motel room has a second bed that you’re welcome to use. Sleeping in the floor every night can’t be good for you.”

He looked shocked and a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you. The floor, with a sleeping bag, is at least better than being stuck outside.”

You weren’t going to take no for an answer on this. “It’s the least I can do, Steve. I can’t really get into it right now, but I really do owe you for helping me out the other night. Let me at least give you a warm bed to sleep in while I’m in town.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Y/N, it means a great deal to me.” He had a sad appreciation in his tone. It appeared that he had not felt too much kindness in his life and you were going to change that.

————

Tag list: @splendidcas @grunge-crybabies @love-charmer-sketch @hamartiamacguffin @heavenlyrainyparis @crowleysminion @mysteriouslyme81 @bitchasaurus @smoothdogsgirl

#castiel x reader #castielxreader #cas x reader #Steve!Cas #Steve!Castiel #Steve!Castiel x reader #Steve!Cas x reader #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #castiel fluff #castiel series #GreenAppleEyes writes

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