#bonus: this all happens on my phone because I am unhinged

[we-re-always-alright]

I’m at the part in my fic writing where I now have to put in my placeholders as a checklist for the sections (parts) that I need to write to connect the parts that I wrote immediately because I could see how they should go down. is it the most weird way to write??? maybe so but it does get done.

[thran-duils]

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 4)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 4) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 2,139 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence 

Author’s Note: I have reset my tag list. If you want to be added back, please DM or send me an ask!

Chap 3 || Chap 5 || Masterpost  || Fanfic masterpost

“What the actual fuck?” Dean demanded, gripping the steering wheel furiously.

The three of you had been quiet after getting the people safely home. You were all trying to process what had happened. As soon as you had gotten back to the car and sat inside without the car on, no one moving, the floodgate opened.

In a fluid motion, he turned, throwing his arm over the back of the seat in order to see Sam in the passenger side and you in the back. Mostly to see you. Sam looked at you as well.

Defensively, you threw your hands up in defeat at their piercing stares. “I don’t know!”

“He sure as hell seems to have taken a liking to you,” Dean retorted.

“What are you accusing me of?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Y/N.”

Sam cut in, “I think the question is, what is his deal? What does he want?”

“Apparently a fan of Y/N,” Dean responded. “And killing innocent people for entertainment!”

“How did he even know we would come? This is far from Vermont,” Sam asked.

Closing your eyes in frustration, you leaned your head back on the seat with a sigh. Of course it was too good to be true that a normal, well spoken man would have interest in you. Why had you not been more concerned when you met him at the café? There were red lights all over the place, the biggest one being that he happened to be in Lawrence of all the cities he could choose in the country and happened to be at that café at that exact moment.

“What?” Dean asked after a pause. “What are you thinking about?”

Seems you would need to divulge that you had had contact.

Opening your eyes again, you leveled them with a stare. “We are pretty close to home. Only a few hours away.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, Sam venturing, “And? And how would he know that?”

Adjusting uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gaze, you cleared your throat. “He, uh…” you paused, the words getting stuck in your throat as the guilt crept in. How could you have been so relaxed about that meeting? “I ran into him at the coffee shop on the corner of Crescent and Fifth.”

“What? When?” Sam asked, genuine concern lacing his tone.

You shrugged, “A couple weeks ago at most. It was when I brought home lunch from Sopranos. We just bumped into each other – almost collided, really. He recognized me, apologized for almost running me over, and bought me something to eat.

The words were rolling out of you now.

“We ate, had some small talk, where he told me he was a journey salesman which is why he was in Lawrence –”

“And you believed that?” Dean interjected. “Y/N… Jesus. He followed you from freaking Vermont back to Kansas!”

“I’m quite aware. It is painfully obvious now. But he admitted to me that he procures and sells supernatural artifacts. Which is why he hadn’t been as surprised about the banshee as a normal person should or would be. And he is not looking for something in Lawrence. My first thought when he mentioned artifacts was the bunker; if he was trying to use us to find it. But he didn’t seem to know. He was talking about Topeka, Ottawa… and somewhere else.”

“Anyway, Lawrence is central to all three of the places. And when eh explained it like that, it made enough sense. Then, Sam called shortly after. I excused myself, we exchanged numbers –”

“He has your phone number?” Sam interrupted.

You admitted, blushing, “Yes.”

“Jesus,” Dean swore again.

“Well, at that moment, I didn’t know he was off his rocker!”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Dean quipped.

“Alright,” Sam cut in or tried to because Dean pressed on.

“No, not alright. You know what?” He reached his arm toward you. “Give me your phone if you have his number.” You shook your head immediately and he rose his brows. “You don’t have his number?”

“I do.”

“Then why can’t I call it?”

“Do we really want to be antagonizing this guy, Dean?” Sam asked, staring Dean down. Dean tried to argue but Sam held his ground. “It’s not smart. Now, if he doesn’t seem to know about the bunker – and even if he did, he can’t get in – that seems to be all the more reason to not reach out to him. If you do, that could give him the wrong idea.”

“The asshole already has the wrong idea!”

“How do we not now he won’t follow us home?” you asked. “I mean, it’s dark. We won’t be able to identify what a car looks like behind us if one starts trailing us.”

Dean exhaled annoyed at the thought of that.

Sam suggested, “Let’s get a hotel then. Not towards Lawrence, let’s go further out. And we can take turns keeping watch. If Dean drives, I’ll sleep until we get there and then he can rest while I stay up. And then Y/N can get up to relieve me.”

Shaking his head, Dean muttered, “I don’t like this.”

“We don’t really have a choice given our situation.”

Silence filled the space, Sam’s words sinking in. What he suggested was smart and would ensure the group of you would feel more safe than potentially leading Castiel back to the bunker.

Suddenly Dean turned back around to face the steering wheel and threw the key in the ignition. “Fine. But anymore contact and I’m calling the bastard. Antagonistic or not.”

<> <> <>

Groggy, it was almost impossible to open your eyes. The room was a blur; bright but blurry. You did not believe you were at home, it did not feel like home. Your eyelids were so heavy, your body felt like cement. Why were you so tired?

There were voices, hovering around you. You could not make out the majority of what was being said, only catching words like ‘blood’, ‘damage’.

Darkness crept in again, flooding from the outside in. You did not hear anything anymore.

<> <> <>

When you came to next, your vision was still unfocused. Your body felt heavy still, weighted down by…

You focused on the IV drip as it came into focus, hooked up into your right arm. Weighted down by medicine.

A voice drew your attention to your left. Mustering much more effort than it should require, you turned your head to the source.

Through your haze of sleep and medication, you still startled at seeing Castiel sitting there by your bed. He was staring at you with concern, leaning forward towards you, his large hand resting on yours.

You tried to jerk away from him but your moment was sluggish, although you were becoming alert much more quickly at this turn of events. Where were you? Why was he here? Where were Sam and Dean?

This had to be a dream. Why else would he be here? Next to your bed? But this was not your bed. Where were you? You thought again frantically. It looked like a hospital room. You racked your brain, trying to remember.

“Y/N,” Castiel tried again, drawing you from your frightened thoughts. “How are you feeling? It looks like the doctors got you stitched up alright and have your pain controlled.”

Stitched?

It came back.

You were in West Virginia or at least you had been. The Wendigo. It had gotten you cornered and slashed your thigh. You did not remember much after that besides Sam and Dean carrying you to the Impala.

“Y/N?”

“What… what are you doing here?”

“I do not know if that –”

“What,” you repeated with more force, trying to scoot away. “Are you doing here?”

You quickly took note that the door was closed. You had to have a call button to ring for help.

Castiel tsked you, ‘Now, now. Do not go getting yourself worked up. You have been through enough and you need to rest with minimal – preferably no – stress. I am not here to hurt you.”

“I don’t know that!”

“You are just going to have to trust me.”

“How can I? You killed innocent people to lure me in for a ‘game’.”

Holding up a finger, Castiel corrected, “To be fair, I did not kill the people that lured you in. That was my friend.” He paused and added, “I did kill two people as a safety net, yes. I new you were not going to fail and I did not want my friend losing his temper if he was not given the two more hearts as promised. I killed those two people for your safety. I will kill for you. But, then again, I do like killing.”

“You are not helping your case,” you told him coolly.

You had found the call button remote underneath the blanket. Your fingers closed in around it.

Lips tight, Castiel leaned away from you in order to reach your bed side table. He picked up a cup and held it out to you. You saw it was ice chips but refrained from accepting the offer.

Shoulders slumping ever so, Castiel sighed. Lowering his arm, he placed the cup back on the beside table, ‘I suppose I am just going to have to earn your trust.” The call button was not responding, your anxiety beginning to rise. “Y/N, as I have expressed, I am enamored with you. The light in your eyes, your quick wit. You also have a very lovely smile which is an extra bonus in the package for me.”

“I would love for you to join me. I think my experience and yours as well, we would make a formidable team. Now, I understand we do not want to be making any rash decisions. I am open to giving you time to consider, I really would like it to be a sound decision. It is always so much more practical when we come to the table together, both willing.”

“I would be disappointed if you turned me down. But I think if you take the time to really consider it, you will see how magnificent this agreement would be for both of us. Freedom to travel and discover riches and have adventure. Together.”

Leaning forward again, he told you, “So, really, kitten, hurting you is the furthest thing from my mind.”

He went quiet, gauging your reaction.

You had to say something.

“Thank you for considering that time is needed.”

He smiled, pleased at your appreciation. “Of course, of course. I do not want to rush a good thing. You deserve time.”

Looking to the door, he sighed, “Now, I suspect those two brutes you have around will be coming back. That blonde one, Dean, can put food away but even his stomach must have its limits. I should make myself scarce.” Standing from the chair, his hand brushed yours. “I am glad I stopped by to check in on you, kitten. I am relieved you are doing alright.”

He made it halfway to the door before turning back to you. His gaze fell to your concealed hand holding the call remote. “by the way, I would ask them to plug that back in for you. I do apologize but I needed some uninterrupted time with you to share my admiration. Please forgive me. I will be in touch.”

With that, he swung the door open and strolled out.

Your eyes were glued to the doorway, afraid he would return. He swore he did not want to hurt you but… unease still crept. If anything, it sounded like he was developing an unhealthy attraction.

Sam and Dean’s voices reached you before you saw them. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position in anticipation.

As soon as they walked in, they saw the fear in your expression.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked alarmed.

“Castiel,” you said hoarsely.

“What?” Sam demanded. “Here?”

You nodded and Dean’s face set in stone before he made a beeline for the hall, searching.

“Dean, he’s gone. It’s been a few since he left,” you called after him, leaning forward in the bed. You winced at the tug on your stitches.

He came back into the room and you recalled the last ten minutes, stumbling through what he had said. When you got done, Sam meant to sit in the chairs next to your bed but stopped suddenly. He picked up a small box that was adorned with a lace bow. His jaw set when he read the tab.

“It’s for you.”

You opened it warily. Inside was a diamond bracelet. Balking at it, you held it up and whispered, “Is… is this real? This must be worth a fortune.”

Dean snapped, “Are we all still against calling this asshole and setting things straight?”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass