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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Feels Like Home: The Truth (pt.5/final part) (Hvitserk x Reader)

Alright, so this is the final part to the Feels Like Home series. I know this was promised like 2 months ago but as I explained in a previous post - a break from Tumblr was essential for me. I hope you like the finale. :) Also, I inserted a ‘Keep Reading’ line, hopefully it’ll be visible to all of you.

Summary for pt.5: The raid was a roaring success and finally it’s time for you to explain everything to Hvitserk. The question is - will he be able to forgive you?

Warnings: description of homicide, cursing

Word count: 2.030-ish

Read PART1, PART2, PART3 and PART4.

* Moodboard is mine, images used are not. *

In the end, the raid turned out to be a roaring success. You made it out alive and as far as Ivar was concerned, the treasury’s content lived up to the stories he had heard, and he drained the place to the last coin.

Now, on your way back to Kattegat, you have some newly acquired thralls heat up two kegs of drinking water and fill the wooden tub in your cabin with it. Usually you can wait with the post-battle bath until you get home but this time you wish to cleanse yourself as soon as possible. The hot water makes your muscles relax and you catch yourself falling asleep when a soft knock on your door brings you back to consciousness.

“Come on in!” you signal your visitor to enter after stepping out of the tub and wrapping a cloth around your body.

Hvitserk’s face lights up at your sight.

“You are the only person I know who can conquer a land and still look breathtaking afterwards.” he says, earning a shy smile from you.

“Haven’t your father taught you that it is not decent to lie?”

“He has and I am not lying! Are you questioning my honesty yet again?”

“I would never dare do such a thing!”

You both chuckle and he pulls you into a tight hug. A familiar scent fills his nostrils – could he be imagining it, or your hair does smell like the wildflowers from the meadow?

“Ready to tell me everything?” he whispers sometime later, and you lean away to look into his eyes.

“No. But I made a promise and I always keep my word. Are you ready?”

He nods, then sits down on a chair next to the table and draws you into his laps. Looking into his eyes and knowing what you are about to say makes your chest ache, but you clear your throat and begin anyway.

“Do you remember the feast you had thrown for Ubbe’s birthday, just one full moon’s time before I left?”

“I do.”

“And do you remember how sick I felt during the feast?”

“Yes, I do. You had too much cherry wine so consequently I escorted you home to rest.”

You place a hand on the side of his face and caress his cheek with your thumb affectionately.

“It was not the cherry wine that made me feel sick, my love.” Your voice is laced with emotion, barely above whisper.

He knits his eyebrows in confusion, but it is only a matter of seconds and the wrinkles start relenting as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“Were you… were you with child?”

You nod and an excited, breathy laughter escapes his mouth. You try to memorize the sound of it as you are uncertain you will ever hear it again once you tell him the rest of the story.

Seeing you don’t share his joy, his happiness vanishes just as fast as it came.

“What is it, Y/N? What happened to my child?”

You get up from his lap, fill your cup and empty its content within seconds. Then repeat the whole procedure all over again, not minding the peculiar look you get from Hvitserk. There is no way you can get through this sober. Once you are done with your second round, you wipe your mouth and continue.

“My father found out I was carrying your child and I have never seen him more furious than that. He respected Ragnar, but he also believed that by making so many enemies, Ragnar created an environment not fit for a child, especially not fit for his grandchild. So he pulled some strings - granted a wish here, asked for a favor there – and ended up shipping me to England in order to marry an ambitious Saxon king.”

“King Willelmus?”

“Yes, him. At first, he was the perfect gentlemen a young girl in trouble such as myself could wish for. But then time passed and he began to reveal his true colors… Remember the strikes in the cell? I carved those with my nails after he’d imprisoned me there. He visited me every day and laughed in my face for believing he would welcome the bastard son of a pagan whore.”

Hvitserk’s face grows more somber with every word that leaves your lips and you can barely resist the urge to throw back another drink.

“Not very long after the imprisonment I delivered the baby, our son, and King Wil-“ your voice cracks and that’s when you realize you’ve been crying. After a few deep breaths you continue “… and King Willelmus strangled him in front of my eyes. A nun witnessed this and when I recovered, she gave me some gold and some silver, and she helped me escape. I travelled all around the world, came to know different cultures and different fighting styles – all in order to seek vengeance one day. And that’s what I did today.”

The silence that ensues screams louder than anyone you have ever heard dying in battle.

“Why?” Hvitserk finally speaks up, not looking at you.

“Why what?”

He elevates his gaze slowly and you can see he’s like a volcano, seconds away from erupting.

“Why did you not come back to Kattegat and tell me whAT HAPPENED?!” he roars the last word, making you flinch. “Was I unworthy of the truth, huh?! Did I do something to deserve being left out of avenging mY OWN SON?! We could have done it years ago and we could have brought many more sons into this world ever since!”

“Hvitserk, calm down and let me expl-“

Before you can finish, he jumps to his feet, knocking back the chair he’s been sitting on and grabs you by the throat.

“Hvitserk… I-I can’t… breathe…” you try to plead with him to no avail. His grip is firm and strong.

“You know, here I thought I was favored by the Gods since they gave me a second chance with you… but it turns out they are just taunting me…” he whispers, his mind still visibly clouded by rage. “Tell me, why did you come back to Kattegat now, really? Was it honestly your father’s death or did you know about the raid?”

Though you don’t say – you can’t say – anything, your eyes give away the answer.

“Just what I assumed.”

Suddenly he lets go of you and you fall to the ground. He is about to storm out the door when you call after him with a hoarse voice.

“Hvitserk! You promised you would take good care of my heart, but now you are breaking it…”

He takes a quick, pitiful glance at you.

“I don’t believe there is anything I am breaking right now. In fact, I doubt there ever was anything I could have taken good care of!”

He slams the door shut so hard it almost falls off.

You just lie there on the ground at the exact spot you fell on and stare into the void, trying to comprehend what just happened. Then a scream makes its way out of your lungs and you begin banging one of your palms against the wooden floor until you feel no pain, just see the blood.

A huge hand covers yours to stop you from doing any more harm.

Bjorn.

You just look at him for a while, not knowing what to say.

“Have you been eavesdropping, Bjorn?” you finally decide on something and a sad, lopsided smile forms on his face.

“No. You and Hvitserk were so loud I believe the whole crew heard it – except maybe for the warriors that were deafened in the fight.”

“I’m not in the mood for jesting, Bjorn.” You try to sound menacing but the tears streaming down your face undermine your plan.

“I know. I’m not here for the jokes, I’m here for the tears.”

He pulls you into his chest, muffling your cries and sobs.

Hvitserk is sitting in the Great Hall, looking at the plate in front of him with no appetite. What is wrong with him? The music is too loud, the cheerful people annoy him and not even the food or the mead interest him at the slightest.

“What is wrong, big brother? Why aren’t you enjoying the celebration? We came back richer than ever. You could at least drink to that!” Ivar’s words shake him back from his own thoughts.

He pulls a face at his little brother, raises his horn and starts drinking from it.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it? The more you do that the less you’ll feel upset about Y/N leaving Kattegat.”

Hvitserk almost chokes on the ale.

“What did you just say?” he questions Ivar while wiping his mouth.

“I said Y/N is leaving. She said she had no business here anymore, so she intends to sail away.”

“It’s true.” Bjorn chips in. “But I think that if you hurry, you might be able to stop her from doing so.”

Hvitserk’s heart has never beaten faster than now, not even when he went on his first raid ever.

What should he do? Should he go after you? Or let you go? What do the Gods want?

Suddenly, Ubbe’s words start echoing in his ears ‘Let me tell you what I see! I see a miserable man drenching in his own self-pity and insecurities and only the Gods know how tired I am of it! Gods, Hvit, do you even understand what is going on here? She was taken away from you, but fate is offering a second chance! Do you know how rare that is?’.

He stands up abruptly and runs out of the Great Hall.

Hvitserk considers himself fit but by the time he gets to the docks there is almost no air in his lungs. And even that little what remained gets knocked out by an invisible force once he discovers that your ship is gone.

“No... no, no, no!” he whispers frantically to himself as his eyes start watering.

This must be a deception. You cannot be gone. Not again.

He feels like the rug has been pulled out from under his feet and he almost tumbles.

What is he to do now? He can’t go back to the feast.

His legs start working before his brain does. After a considerable amount of walking they stop and Hvitserk finds himself in the meadow of wildflowers.

In the middle there’s you, illuminated by the moonlight, resembling a goddess now more than ever.

“Y/N? Is that you? I-I thought you sailed away.”

You turn around at the sound of your name and your eyes go wide.

“Hvitserk? I-I intended to but I just simply could not. I felt like I needed to be here. But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

He rushes to you wordlessly, cups your face and presses his lips to yours forcefully.

“I am so sorry for not hearing you out, min elskede!” he says, gasping for air once you break the kiss. “And for all the things I said! I did not mean any of it!”

“No, no, no! Do not apologize! I should be the one begging for your forgiveness because of all the things I have done and all the things I haven’t… I believed for the longest time that a feeble woman like me who couldn’t even protect her own son would never be a worthy wife to you in the eyes of the Gods, and-”

He places his index finger on your lips to prevent you from completing your sentence.

“You were always worthy of me and I was always worthy of you. We were fated to be together. Do you know why I’m certain?” he pulls you closer so that your figure melts into his. “Because this feels like home. It always has and always will.”

You stand there like that, embracing each other in the moonlight for only the Gods know how long.

But time does not really matter, now does it?

You have a lifetime ahead of you and even after that, you will spend an eternity together in Valhalla.

#Hvitserk Ragnarsson #Hvitserk Whiteshirt #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk imagine #Hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #feels like home #Final Chapter #hvitserk fanfic #hvitserk fanfiction

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Truth or Cut (Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester)

Hello there! This my * very VERY * late submission to @dontshootmespence ‘s Alphabet Angst for 8k Challenge. I am incredibly sorry for this delay but I had to take a break away from Tumblr and social media in general in order to focus on my mental/physical health & other issues in my private life. Now I think I’m ready to return and create content again. As for the story, I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at a love triangle. Important: does not include Wincest so it’s safe to read for anyone who’s not into that. Also, I inserted a ‘Keep reading’ line, I hope it’s visible.

Summary: The British Men of Letters try a new approach to acquire the Winchesters’ cooperation, which leads to heartbreaking revelations.

Warnings: cursing, bloodshed, mentions of sex, character death

Word count: 2.750-ish

* Moodboard is mine, pictures used are not.

You gain consciousness to two male voices calling your name frantically.

“She’s opening her eyes, Sam! She’s alright… Look!” the hoarse baritone belonging to the elder Winchester reassures his brother a second after your eyelashes have started fluttering.

“Well, that’s the overstatement of the year, Dean… Let’s just say I’ll live.” you grumble once you fully come around. “What the hell?!”

Usually you’re more eloquent than that but at the moment it’s the best you can muster, considering that you’ve awakened in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse and all three of you are handcuffed to uncomfortable metal chairs organized in a neat triangle, facing each other. The only source of light are a few flickering candles placed on a table nearby.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, babe.” your long-term boyfriend Sam replies in a soothing tone.

His handsome face seems intact – minus a couple of scars he obtained in previous fights – so being ambushed is crossed off the list of possible explanations on what happened and how you got here. Maybe you were drugged? If yes… by whom? The things that go bump in the night prey upon their enemies and slash their throats open, not abduct them.

A heavy silence falls on the place, only the crackle of the candle flames can be heard.

You have no idea how much time has passed – it could’ve been an eternity as well as ten minutes – when suddenly a consecutive knocking sound fills your auditory canals.

“Are those… are those high heels?” you ask aloud incredulously.

“Louboutin’s to be exact, my dear.”

Every head snaps to the accent’s direction just in time to see an elegantly dressed slender woman step into the candle-lit area.

“But excuse my manners… talking about fashion before introducing myself? How rude of me. I’m Lady Toni Bevell on behalf of the British Men of Letters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean growls “You know, here in America no means no, Lady! We’ve already told your stupid little boyband to fuck off. We’re not here to do their bidding, we’re here to save lives.”

“So I’ve heard.” She nods in understanding. “But yet, we’d still like to gather some information, one way or another.”

She walks over to the table and unfolds a neatly wrapped package, revealing a knife. Suddenly, Sam’s sarcastic chuckle fills the place.

“And you think you can get us to spill by torturing? Seriously?”

A predatory smile spreads across Toni’s face as she casually picks up the weapon of her choice.

“I was thinking about playing a game that may involve torture. It’s up to you whether it does or does not.”

“What game?” you ask suspiciously.

“I’d like to call it Truth or Cut. Maybe Truth or Stab, depending on the importance of the information you intend to withhold. The rules are the following… I ask something and if you reply, that equals truth, and nothing will happen. If you do not wish to answer, just say cut and I’ll sink my knife into your flesh.”

“You’re crazy!” Sam exhales in disbelief.

“Thank you, Sam! I’m going to take that as a compliment. And since we are already engaged in a conversation, let’s start with you.” She walks to the center of the triangle to face the younger Winchester. “I’d like you to give me the names of American hunters you consider the best.”

Sam leans a bit forward, his face is unreadable.

“Bite me!” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna participate in your psychotic game. You can’t make me.”

Toni flashes a dangerous smile once more.

“Are you sure about that?”

She slowly walks behind your chair and places the blade under your right collar bone.

“If you refuse to pick either truth or cut, your loved ones will pay the price for it, big guy.”

Sam’s eyes search yours for confirmation of the next step and you nod.

“You’re bluffing.” He counters Toni.

The next second you feel the metal pressed against you slash into soft skin and you can’t suppress a loud grunt of pain. Blood starts oozing from the wound and your white tank top soon begins to acquire a shade of crimson.

The brothers yell ‘No!’ in unison, then Dean delivers an impressive selection of curse words – sneaking in some that were new even to you.

Toni strolls over to Sam.

“Now I ask again. Name the best American hunters you know.”

“Cut.” Sam responds in a tone just above whisper. He soundlessly flinches when the woman draws blood by sliding the blade across his left forearm.

“Alright… Who wants to be next? Perhaps Dean? List all the places where we can find extensive knowledge on the supernatural, not counting the Man of Letters safe houses of course.”

Dean’s gaze meets Toni’s and for a second you think you can see her confidence falter because of the deadly rage and utter disdain that radiates from the hunter, but she soon regains composure.

“So? Is it truth or cut, Dean? You know what will happen if you refuse to choose.”

“Cut!” he emphasizes the t at the end.

You’re next and you pick cut as well. Then the cycle starts all over again...

You’ve made three rounds without anyone breaking and giving Toni what she wants, which visibly annoys her.

“Let’s shake things up a bit by changing the topics, shall we?” she announces out of the blue, making all of you knit your brows.

Spinning around on her heels, she turns to Sam.

“Sam! Did you manage to decide where you want to propose to Y/N? In my personal opinion the place where you said your first I love you-s is more romantic than the place where you first met, but that’s just plain old me.”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock, reflecting your own facial expression.

“Sam? What is she talking about?” you question in a thin voice, perplexed.

A shy, boyish smile appears on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, reminding you of the very first time you’ve seen him.

“Uh, yeah. She’s right. Although I have no idea how she knows this, but I did indeed plan on proposing to you at one of those places, probably where we met… up until now. Now I have to come up with something else I guess.”

A mixture of emotions floods your heart, making you undecisive what to say first. You finally open your mouth to speak but before a sound can escape, Toni directs the next question to Dean.

“Alright, that was a truth, so no cuts. Now, Dean! I am certain she will not get offended so you can tell me honestly… Is Y/N a good kisser?”

“How would I know?” he asks back, lacking any hesitation. “I think you’re mistaking me with Sam, her boyfriend. You know, the tall guy whose proposal you’ve just ruined? Next time you play this game with someone, have your facts checked first, Suit pants.”

The confusion on Sam’s face slowly starts to fade away, but Toni presses on relentlessly.

“Oh, Dean... That was a very convincing performance! But, unfortunately for you, I did have my facts checked. And according to these facts, you and Y/N locked lips passionately just two years ago, in 2015. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everybody’s eyes are on you waiting for your reaction, and you can’t help but reminisce about the event in question.

You were having a hard time finding the key for the motel room you were renting - courtesy of the bottle of bourbon you’d consumed earlier. All those keys on the chain looked the same and neither of them seemed to fit into the lock, let alone open the damn door… In addition to that, the world slowly started spinning and you had to prop yourself against the doorframe to prevent an ugly fall.

“Need a hand there, Sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped a beat from the scare but soon calmness washed over you as you identified the person. You could recognize that husky voice anywhere, intoxicated or not.

“Dean Winchester!” you exclaimed, turning around to find him leaning against your car you’d parked near the doorway. “The world’s deadliest hunter and mightiest panty dropper turned hell’s cruelest demon! To what do I owe this pleasure? Considering that you’ve gone out of your way to ignore both me and Sam in the past couple of months.”

He leisurely pushed himself from the car and started walking towards you.

“I needed a breath of fresh air, that’s all. But speaking of whom… where’s Sam?”

He almost left no distance between your bodies when he finally stopped. What was he doing? If he wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it already…

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give him a call, huh? Ask him how he’s doing? You could make him the happiest man alive…” you replied with a bitter undertone.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dean’s handsome face.

“Uh-oh. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Shut it, Dean! It’s really none of your business.” You said, crossing your arms and averting your gaze.

His comment hit a nerve – you both knew that – but the last thing on Earth you wanted to do was discussing your relationship crisis with him. If you still had a relationship, that is.

To much of your surprise, the next second he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him and pressed his lips against yours. It felt terribly wrong but incredibly right at the same time… It took you half a minute to gather all your willpower and push him away.

“Y/N? Is it true?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality.

Tears start dwelling up in your eyes, providing a wordless answer. He swallows hard.

“Why?”

“It’s all my fault, okay?” Dean speaks up as you’re clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. “I kissed her, man. It happened when I was a demon… I figured if I kissed her, I’d piss you off enough to leave me alone. Besides, she was totally hammered and still pushed me away.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Dean?!”

“I don’t know… a little, maybe?”

Sam scoffs then all of a sudden realization hits him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What?”

“Is my girlfriend a good kisser?”

Both you and Dean stare at him in shock.

“C’mon man, you can’t seriously want me to answer that…” Dean attempts to change the subject but doesn’t succeed. Sam’s stare makes it obvious he won’t let this one slide. He won’t let go until he hears the truth no matter how unpleasant it may be.

“Yes.” Dean blurts out. “She’s a good kisser. In fact, she’s one of the best kissers I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. Happy now?”

The only response is a nod.

“Oh wow…” Toni lets out an excited sigh. “Changing the topic was the best idea ever, don’t you agree? Now, let’s move on to Y/N. She’ll get the most interesting question in my repertoire.”

She slowly walks over to you, her Louboutin’s menacingly tap against the concrete every step of the way. She crouches down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and asks the most ruthless question in the sweetest voice.

“Which one of the Winchester brothers is better in bed?”

The tears you’ve been holding back for quite some time now break free and roll down your cheeks swiftly.

“I mean, it’s not entirely true what Dean said, now is it? You did push him away but then you pulled him back...”

Complete silence ensues and you swear you can hear three hearts break if you listen closely.

You were standing there more confused than ever. What the hell was Dean doing?! Was this a long time coming or was he playing some sort of a game? Either way… If you were sober, you most certainly would’ve punched him in the mouth. But due to your condition – or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself ever since – you pulled him back and kissed him there instead. The part of how you got inside the room was a blur, but soon enough you found yourself tangled up with him in the sheets. Torn clothes peppered the floor, a smell of bourbon lingered in the air and Dean treated you as if you were the single, most important person in the entire universe. You truly thought you’d never been happier – then came the morning and shattered everything to a thousand pieces.

“You know, to encourage picking truth regarding this question, I am going to tell you something you yourself may not even be aware of, Y/N.” Toni breaks the silence. “There is something else that’s not true in what Dean said. He did not spend that night with you just to piss Sam off… He’s been attracted to you ever since you’ve met and being a demon allowed him to shamelessly do something about it.”

You whisper ‘Cut’ as a reply and Toni’s face hardens.

“Oh, honey… withholding this information is worth a stab.”

Before you can comprehend her words, she swings the knife and it ends up in your right thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood come from a stab wound… Both Winchester men yell in protest, but their voices become distant as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Mary and Castiel tracked down your location and arrived just in time. You almost bled to death, but the angel managed to heal the wound. For a while you wished he didn’t.

Three weeks later you’re sitting in your car at an abandoned gas station. About fifteen minutes after your arrival, a black SUV parks near you. You limp to the vehicle and tear its door open, barely containing your fury.

“What the fuck was that, Toni?!” you question while getting in and pointing a gun at her.

She glances at the weapon then looks you in the eye.

“Is that necessary?”

You cock the gun in response.

“Alright. So, as you know, the management decided that you delivering information to us about the Winchesters is not enough anymore.”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve contacted them directly, I know.”

“Correct. But since they refused to cooperate, the management came up with a plan of disrupting their unity. This way it’s just a matter of time and one of them will be knocking on our door. I suspect it will be Sam.”

A bitter laugh escapes you lips.

“So that’s what this was? A disruption of unity? Really?! And why didn’t I know of this, huh?”

“We needed your reactions to be genuine.”

“God, you’re a bunch of psychopaths… You know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore. I quit.”

She lets out a loud scoff.

“Please… what are you going to tell them? Furthermore, how do you think they will react when they learn that the love of their lives is a snitch?”

You let your gun down.

“I’ll make sure they know why I became a snitch... I’ll make sure they know how I made a crossroad’s deal years ago to save them both. I’ll make sure they know how you offered to delay the hellhounds in exchange for some information every now and then. I have no idea how they’ll react, but maybe someday they’ll understand and find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Toni stares daggers at you.

“I suggest you think this through carefully, Y/N, as we still hold your deal. One bad move and the hellhounds will come and get you. No more delaying.”

You flash her the biggest smile you can summon.

“Well, it’s been a while since the last time I played with puppies from the pit… I think I’m ready.”

Not waiting for her reaction, you get out of the car and start limping back to yours. By the time you get in, Toni is gone.

You’re all alone.

Well, not entirely alone to be fair.

The grumbling hellhounds in your backseat keep you company.

You take your phone out of your pocket avoiding any sudden movements and type a quick message to the Winchesters:

‘My nightstand, second drawer.’

Toni thought she could prevent you from exposing the truth by taking action quickly, but she wasn’t paying attention. You never said you were gonna tell them everything. You said you would make sure they know. And the detailed farewell letters you left for them in your drawer will serve the purpose well.

#nicolesalphabetangstfor8k #dontshootmespence #dean winchster x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural #SPN #spn fanfiction #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader x dean

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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if you think almost relationships aren't heartbreaking, you're wrong. it's painful to love someone for a short period of time and lose him forever. it's like letting go of something you never really had—it's the feeling of longing for that person for a lifetime. it doesn't matter if it only lasted for a week or a month, but the feelings will always be there, the happiness and love you shared will always haunt you everyday.

#this felt like a punch tbh #don't mind me #just crying in the corner

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Feels Like Home: Vengeance (pt.4) (Hvitserk x Reader)

Final part comes next week (probably sometime during the weekend). I am having difficulties writing it, but hopefully it won’t suck. Anyways, please enjoy this chapter! :)

Summary for pt.4: After the knockout you wake up in a seemingly foreign place but as your memories start flooding back, fury takes over you and you can’t resist the urge to seek vengeance any longer.

Warnings: cursing, graphic description of multiple homicides

Word count: 1.512-ish

Read PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3.

You wake up to the scent of wildflowers and when you open your eyes, you realize you are in a meadow and Hvitserk is laying on top of you. His smile is beaming brighter than a thousand suns and you feel yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Is this a dream? Or a memory? You think it’s both.

“You have never looked more beautiful than now, min elskede!” he whispers, completely enthralled by you.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Haven’t your father taught you that it is not decent to lie, my Prince?”

“He has and it is not a lie! You truly look mesmerizing! Are you questioning my honesty?”

Not waiting for the reply, he leans in and starts biting down your neck playfully, making you giggle in the process.

“Stop, please! Stop! I cannot breathe!” you muster in-between giggles and a couple of bites later he leans away.

“You have my heart, Hvitserk Ragnarsson! Promise you will take good care of it?”

He places a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I promise!”

“Good!” you reply and slowly start unbuttoning the top of your dress.

His eyes follow your movement hungrily.

You feel a hand shaking you.

“Nat? Nat! Wake up!” somebody whisper-shouts.

Hvitserk’s beautiful orbs stare into yours when your eyes finally flutter open. Concern distorts his handsome face.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, this pounding in my head is killing me, but other than that, yes, I am fine!” you answer, wanting to ease the new-come pain by pressing your palm against your temple, but the shackles on your wrists prevent you from doing so. “Where are we?”

“Besides the obvious answer that in a cell? I wish I knew.”

“Great!” you let out a frustrated sigh and begin taking a better look at your surroundings.

“Gods!” you utter unconsciously a minute later as you recognize the numerous small streaks carved into one corner of the cell.

“What is it?”

Ignoring the inquiry, you crawl there on all fours and trace the lines with your fingertips. You remember engraving them many-many years ago. Even some of your blood is still there... The king put you here to make you relive the memories that often haunted your dreams even nowadays…

“That fucking bastard!” you scream and smack your palm against the wall.

“Nat! I adore you but I will not ask again kindly – what is it?” Hvitserk warns with a hint of impatience in his tone.

You slowly rotate your head to his direction, trying your best to hold back tears.

“I know where we are. We’re in the castle’s prison tower.”

“How do you know this?”

“I told you I would answer every question once this is over, love.”

“Well, I am not so sure we will live long enough to see the end of it. The king is probably trying to set up a deal with Ivar and I know my brother… if the trade is our life in exchange for peace, he will not choose peace.”

You crawl to him and take his hands into yours.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life!”

“Then believe when I say we will make it out alive, okay?”

He looks at you dead-serious but nods eventually. You squeeze his hands in reassurance.

“Now… do you know how may guards there are?”

“Two, I think.”

“Perfect!” you exclaim, then continue to map the plan “We will lure them into the cell then disarm them and take our leave!”

“And how exactly do you wish to do that?”

Instead of a verbal reply, you throw yourself to the ground and start shaking uncontrollably. A second later Hvitserk catches on and begins to yell in their language at the top of his lungs.

“Guards! Guards, come! The lady is ill, she may be dying! Guaaaaards!”

It’s not long before two men appear in front of the cell’s door.

“Oh, Lord! What is wrong with her?!” one questions with a heavy accent.

“Does it matter? King Willelmus commanded us to keep her alive regardless of anything and I do not wish to find out what happens if we fail to do so…” his partner answers him.

“Then come in and help her!” Hvitserk bellows at them and they flinch.

You hear keys turning and the cell door slowly opens up with a creaking sound. You sneak a glance at what’s happening and see a tall, helmetless man approach you. Alright. Here goes everything.

You stop shaking when he crouches down next to you, and in a blink of an eye, you hook your legs around his neck, cutting off his airways by pressing your thighs together as much as you can. Hvitserk almost simultaneously jumps up from his sitting position and headbutts the other guard unconscious.

The man in your stranglehold is gasping for air desperately and though you feel him getting weaker, you do not have the time to wait it out. You turn your hip in a swift motion and a loud crack echoes through the cell. In the meantime, he stops wiggling.

Hvitserk takes the keys from the guard he knocked out and frees both of you.

“Alright! Now take the other weapon and follow me!” you order as you pick up a sword, but he is not moving. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“No, nothing. It’s just that man is one lucky bastard.” he replies, staring at the corpse entranced.

You shoot him a puzzled expression, making him continue his train of thought.

“He died with a woman’s thighs around his neck. When my day comes, I wish to go the very same way.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“That day will be here sooner than you think if you don’t move, Hvit! Now, come! I know where the king is. All of this will be over if we kill him! Nobody will continue fighting for a dead leader whereas on the other hand, everybody will start fighting to take his place on the throne.”

You enter the castle’s tiny chapel silently and struggle to suppress a smile – King Willelmus is here alone, just as you anticipated. You press your index finger to your lips signing Hvitserk to stay still and quiet in the shadows. Every fiber in his body wants to protest, but the mad fire in your eyes convinces him and he nods in agreement. You approach the praying king soundlessly.

“Greetings Will!” you shout jovially in his language, making the man jump to his feet and turn around.

He was not a young man when you met him, and based on the wrinkles and grey hair, time did not serve him well since then.

“Nat… How did you find me? What is happening?” he stutters incredulously, dismay growing in his eyes.

“Well, you always were a coward, Will. You would hide here whenever your army fought your battles. I figured this time is not any different and I was right.”

You take a couple of steps closer to him, dragging the tip of your sword along the chapel benches, and he takes just as many away from you.

“And as for what’s happening… I don’t understand why you appear so surprised. I promised you I would be back and that I would personally drag your soul to the place you call ‘hell’, didn’t I?”

He starts receding but the space soon disappears, and his back is pressed flat against a statue.

“Whatever you plan to do, Nat, don’t! I am sure we can sit down like civilized people and discuss our differences…”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Will. At least not anymore… Besides, if my assessment skills are not failing me, I think I have the upper hand over here.“ you take a meaningful look at your weapon then at his empty hands. “So please keep your ridiculous suggestions to yourself.”

There’s a second of silence and you know he’s evaluating the situation, trying to find the best tactic to boost his chances at survival.

“I am sorry for everything I have ever done to you! Alright? I have realized the error of my ways and I truly apologize! This is what you wanted, is it not?”

Your lips curl into a cruel smile.

“Not quite. It’s a little too late for apologies, old man. Now kneel!” you scream the last part and he obeys reluctantly.

You push the sword’s blade against his throat and descend in front of him to be face to face.

“Do you remember what I told you I would do to you upon my return? Answer!”

“You said you would perform a blood eagle!” he whispers with a trembling voice.

“Yes, exactly. But there is no time for that now, unfortunately, so I’m settling on a quicker solution.” you caress his face with your free hand. “Helheim or hell… it doesn’t matter how you call it, in the end, it is all the same… Pass my kisses to father when you meet him there, would you?”

With a rapid movement you slash his throat open.

Read PART 5 (final part) HERE.

#Hvitserk #hvitserk lothbrok #Hvitserk Whiteshirt #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x reader #vikings #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk fanfic #feels like home #pt4 #reader insert #fanfic

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Feels Like Home: The Ambush (pt.3) (Hvitserk x Reader)

My apologies for the delay and for the length. It kiiind of exceeded 2k words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! :)

Summary for pt.3: You are on your way to raid King Willelmus’ lands when Hvitserk surprises you with a sudden outburst. Also, things take an unexpected turn regarding the attack.

Warnings: violence, angst

Word count: 2.500-ish

Read PART 1 and PART 2.

Hvitserk pours himself another drink in his wooden cup, sits down on a chair and places his legs on the table. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of waives crushing against the side of your ship.

Ivar decided it would be best if you and the Ragnarssons used your ship for the raid. His reasoning included the fact that it looks like a merchant’s ship, half not as menacing as a Viking one, but in reality, everybody knew he just wished to enjoy the comfort that the multiple separated cabins had to offer in it.

A loud knock on the door forces Hvitserk to open his eyes.

“Come in!”

As the door opens, Ubbe’s features appear in the faint candlelight. He enters the small cabin and realizing what’s happening, he sits down next to his brother and joins him in drowning his sorrow. Neither of them says anything for a while.

“You know, the first couple swallows taste like piss, but after an entire cup I think I understand why Y/N loves cherry wine so much!” Ubbe breaks the silence.

“Yes, well I am not certain she loves it as much as she used to… I spent a fortune to get her a keg of the best wine I could find, and she only took a few sips from my horn…”

“Gods, little brother…the last time I saw you this broke and lost was when-“

“Do not dare to complete that sentence!” Hvitserk warns him with a threatening undertone.

However, it does not stop Ubbe from finishing what he intends to say.

“-was when she left.”

Hvitserk stands up swiftly and crashes his cup against the table, spilling most of his drink, almost knocking over the candles.

“I told you not to complete it!” he screams at his own brother like a madman.

In a blink of an eye Ubbe stands up as well, grabs the back of Hvitserk’s neck and pushes his head down, stopping just inches away from the wet table.

“Tell me, brother, what do you see in the reflection?!” when he doesn’t receive a reply, he continues “Let me tell you what I see! I see a miserable man drenching in his own self-pity and insecurities and only the Gods know how tired I am of it!”

“What is your point, Ubbe?” Hvitserk questions through gritted teeth while trying to escape his brother’s grip and failing at it.

“My point is that you are still in love with her, there is no denying that. And yet you are here drinking alone instead of confessing this to her. Gods, Hvit, do you even understand what is going on here? She was taken away from you, but Fate is offering a second chance! Do you know how rare that is?”

He lets go of his younger brother who straightens up abruptly.

“She is on the quarterdeck in case you wish to talk to her.”

“How do you know that?”

“I ran into her on my way here. She’s had a nightmare and needed fresh air.”

Hvitserk stares into his brother’s eyes angrily, but his anger does not come from the violence Ubbe has used on him. It comes from the fact just how true Ubbe’s words are. He is, in fact, still in love with you. And he is, in fact, too scared to admit it. But what if Ubbe is right? What if this is a second chance granted by Fate? He would never forgive himself if it is and he missed it.

A minute later he hugs his brother and leaves the cabin to find you.

You stand on the quarterdeck and pull your cloak tighter across your chest. It is a particularly cold, foggy night. The moonlight breaks through for a couple of minutes then disappears once again, only things in the immediate distance can be seen. Supposedly, you will arrive by morning and begin the raid right away.

You are pulled back from your thoughts by the heavy steps approaching you.

“Good evening!” Hvitserk greets you when you turn your head to check who the steps belong to. ”Why are you not asleep yet?”

“I told you Hvit, Nótt and I are not friends. But what about you? Why aren’t you sleeping?” you ask, turning your head back to the front to continue staring into the mist.

“That it an interesting inquiry, my dear. Do you really wish to know the answer?”

He leaves no time for reacting as in just a fraction of a second he appears behind you and snakes his arms around your waist.

“You know what? I am going to tell you anyway.” he whispers in your ear. “I am not asleep right now because I am trying to figure out the reason why you have been ignoring me ever since the training, Y/N.”

His lips brush against your neck as he speaks, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“I don’t know what you are talking about! And now… would you be so kind as to let me go?” you can barely control the shakiness in your voice.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine.

“You are very well aware of what I am talking about. But if not, let me refresh your memory… I am talking about the time when you were listening to Sigurd’s music and when I joined, you suddenly had to go. Or when you were at Bjorn’s estate and as soon as I set foot in there, you left. Or maybe the time when we shared a dance at the feast but immediately after you disappeared without as much as a word.”

He hugs you even tighter than before.

“And I believe you and I both know that if you really longed to be free, you would have escaped my hold a long time ago, min elskede.”

Where does he get the nerve to call you out like this? Even if he is completely and utterly right…

You elbow him in the chest, but before you can do anything else, he flips you to face him and pushes you against the quarterdeck banister.

“What is it that you want from me, Hvitserk?” you ask, your face is only a few inches away from his.

“I have never stopped caring for you, Y/N, and I think that you are still affectionate about me as well. Tell me I am wrong, and I will never speak of it again!”

The desperate longing in his eyes confirms his words and you cannot hold his gaze anymore.

A second later he gently grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

“So? Am I wrong?”

You lick your upper lip and take a deep breath.

“No, you are not. I still harbor feelings for you, min kære…“ You put a palm on the side of his face and he eases into your touch. “But can we not do this right now? You must have dozens of questions… which I will answer happily once the raid is over.”

His lips curl into a boyish smile and it reminds you of the very first time he rewarded you with one.

“Alright.”

You both lean in at the same time and kiss each other gently. Then all gentleness disappears, giving room to passion. In all honesty, you have kissed many men these past years, but none of them compares to Hvitserk in any aspect. You don’t know how to explain it but the closest to the truth would probably be that he feels like home.

You break the kiss, gasping for air and you are about to go back in when an arrow lands in the banister right beside you.

Just as Hvitserk yanks you away from it, another arrow lands next to the first one.

You are being ambushed by the nation you wished to do the same to.

“Everybody, up! We are under attack!” he bellows, pushing you behind his back.

A couple of minutes later every single warrior is on the deck and judged by the sounds, the other ships and boats in your armada are alert, too. Ubbe wordlessly hands you and his brother your weapons then turns to face the fog.

And that’s when the first Saxon soldier jumps on the deck out of nowhere.

Ubbe cuts him down swiftly, but then comes another one. Then another two. And then three more. Between killing two men you take a glance to the front and the blood runs cold in your veins. To much of your horror, the bowsprits of your ship and theirs almost touch, creating a bridge for the enemy to cross through and that is exactly what they are doing. Gods, it’s like there is no ending to their numbers, they just keep coming.

Oh, well. If you must go to Valhalla tonight, you will do it knowing that Hvitserk Ragnarsson is in love with you.

Hvitserk is immensely fascinated with how you slay people. There is just something about your determination, your gracefully executed motions, and the way you laugh when blood sprinkles in your face. He is certain he could watch you fight all day. Your voice brings him back to the present.

“My love, behind you!” you shout, but it is too late.

A Saxon delivers a hit to his left shoulder and pushes him off the ship into the ice cold water.

Hvitserk knows how to swim, but his shoulder hurts so bad he cannot move it for the love of the Gods. The cold and the darkness intensify with every inch he gets farther away from the surface. There is not much air left in his lungs but if this is his time to go, he will die happy. He will die knowing that you are in love with him.

He is on the verge of losing consciousness when a hand grabs his shirt and starts pulling him upward. Realizing what’s happening, he tries to assist with his good arm and soon both him and his savior emerge.

“You jumped after me?” he asks, looking at you bewildered.

“Of course I did! Are you alright, my love?” you ask back, swiping a wet strand of hair away from his forehead.

He kisses you in response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes! Now come on, we need to get back on the ship!”

He nods his head in agreement but then a shield comes flying down from the deck and knocks both of you out in an instant.

You open your eyes and automatically lean to the side to cough back the generous amount of salt water you swallowed after you had been knocked unconscious. Which reminds you…

“Sss, Gods…” you hiss in pain as you touch the back of your head and discover a sizable lump. “I do pray this is not permanent… but if it is, I can only hope it is not bigger than Hvitserk’s.“

Your eyes widen and a knot forms in your stomach.

Hvitserk.

He is not with you.

Where is he then?

You jump to your feet and begin walking along the shoreline while screaming his name. He made it to the shore, right? He could not have drowned, that would be an unworthy death for a Viking. Right?

Your voice is starting to get hoarse when you spot something peeking from behind a huge rock. Are those… are those leather boots?

You run up there and collapse to your knees when you lay your eyes upon their owner.

“Hvitserk?!” you scream, but there is no reaction from his side.

Your whole body is shaking as you lean in to check if he is breathing. Tears start streaming down your face when you discover he is not.

“No, no, no…” you whisper. “You will not die! At least not on my watch!”

You straddle him and start compressing his chest, then after a while, you breathe some air into his lungs through his mouth. You do two rounds of this, but nothing happens.

“Come on, my love, you cannot just leave me here! I need you!”

You perform the sequence one more time, but the result isn’t any different from the previous one. A whirlwind of emotions takes over you and you slap him across the face hard.

For a reason that is beyond you, this seems to work, and he starts coughing up water.

“Y/N? Am I in Valhalla?” he questions once he is done.

You chuckle while wiping at your eyes.

“No, you are not.”

“Are you certain? I woke up to a beautiful woman in a wet and rather transparent nightgown on top of me… this situation reminds me quite a bit of the stories I read about Valhalla and its pleasures.”

You smack him on the shoulder.

“I have brought you back from the brink of death just seconds ago and all you can think about it pleasure? Shame on you, Hvitserk Ragnarsson!”

“Ow! Easy my love… I recall being cut on the shoulder before that damn shield knocked us out.”

The cut. You have absolutely forgotten about it.

“It is not that deep, you will live.” you say upon inspecting it. “But I shall bandage it to prevent infections.”

You tear down a strip from your nightgown and tie it around the wound tightly, ignoring Hvitserk’s hiss.

“Are you a grown Viking man or a baby? Stop whin-” but you cannot finish your sentence as he plasters his hand over your mouth.

It takes a good minute to understand the drive of his action... If you concentrate hard enough, you can hear foreign shouting in the distance.

The water washed you ashore at the island you wished to raid, but now they are the hunters and you are the prey, not the other way around as it should be.

You help Hvitserk up and run into the nearby woods, hand in hand.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” you say after hiding behind a bush. “Help me undo my braids so I would not look like I am on of you. Then when they are near, I will run out screaming for help, claiming I have been abducted by you and I will express my wish to be saved. Once they let their swords down, I will disable them and take possession of the weapons.”

“Nonsense, you don’t even know their numbers!” he protests, drawing his eyebrows together.

“Relax, I can easily disable four men all by myself! If there is more, I will allow you to help me.”

He scoffs but then remembers how you smashed him into the ground by using your body exclusively, so he nods.

“Agreed. “

“Great. Then now we wait.”

“That will not be necessary!” a voice speaks up behind your back in a Saxon dialect you happen to understand and when you turn around, a sword’s shaft lands in your face.

The world goes black in an instant once again.

Read PART 4 and PART 5 (final part).

#hvitserk whiteshirt #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk fanfic #vikings #vikings fanfiction #series part 3 #part3 #feels like home

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Alphabet Angst for 8K Challenge

For 8,000 followers, I wanted to do something special, so I decided to do a challenge. I read a ton of smut and fluff and that’s mainly what I write as well, so with this challenge, I want you to RIP MY HEART OUT!

Here are the rules:

Reblog to signal boost.

Write for any Supernatural or Criminal Minds character you wish.

If smut is involved in your fic, that’s cool, but no underage or incest please.

Crossovers and Alternate Universes are welcome! Go crazy!

Send me an ask with your choice of prompt, as well as a backup just in case. Up to two people can have the same prompt.

No word limit at all, just please use the ‘keep reading’ feature for anything over 500 words.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE tag at the bottom or write warnings at the top of your fics so that people don’t have to read things that upset them. If you don’t tag in some way, I won’t reblog until you do.

I realize that life can get in the way sometimes, so the due date will be June 30, 2020. If you need an extension, let me know.

If you take a prompt and finish it, you are of course allowed to ask for another!

When you’re ready to post, tag your fics with #nicolesalphabetangstfor8k.

Most importantly, have fun writing and MAKE ME CRY!

Prompts are below the cut. They are one word/concept only! Take the prompt and run with it! I will make a masterlist with all works after I have at least half submitted.

Keep reading

#nicolesalphabetangstfor8k #writing challenge #dontshootmespence #the more the merrier #join the challenge

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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No Idea (Castiel x Reader)

Okay, so I had a very interesting dream last night involving Castiel (nothing NSFW, unfortunately :D ) and I just had to commemorate the rare occasion of me having a dream about one of the boys with a fic. I hope you like it!

Summary: In hopes of finding Chuck, you and Castiel visit a Supernatural Fan Convention. At the event you bump into a couple of enthusiasts who uncover some very interesting facts about the real nature of the relationship you and the angel share.

Warnings: sexual implications

Word count: 1.885-ish

Gif not mine.

The engine of Castiel’s pimp car dies out with a chug and your face automatically turns wry as you read the banner displayed by the small congress center’s entrance: XV. Supernatural Fan Convention.

“Remind me again, Cas, why are we here exactly?” you ask the angel as you open the car door to get out, suppressing the gut-feeling that screams for you to stay put.

“Well, we’d like to gather some information on Chuck’s whereabouts and considering that he’s quite the narcissist, Sam and Dean think he may show up here.” he replies while bypassing the car to stand by your side.

“Wonderful…”

“Is there something wrong, Y/N? You seem a little… off.” genuine concern in his voice hits your ears.

You sigh deeply before responding.

“No, nothing’s wrong per se… I’m just – I’m just really not up for this right now, you know?”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it has something to do with the idea that if I go in there, I might run into strangers posing as me and that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”

A mischievous smirk spreads across Castiel’s handsome face.

“Allow me to clarify things… you fearlessly hunt beings more gruesome than an average person could ever fathom and a few literary enthusiasts are what frighten you?”

You roll your eyes at him.

“You know what - I haven’t had my fix of morning caffeine yet so I am totally not ready to engage in this argument right now...” you take a quick glance at the banner once again. “Instead, let’s go in there and get this over with as fast as we can, okay?”

He nods in agreement and you both start off in the building’s direction.

The knot in your stomach grows two sizes upon entering the place – a multitude of Sams and Deans flood your field of vision, along with a few Castiels, Bobbys and Rowenas. You are unable to decide which will haunt your dreams for the next few the days – the bad wigs and makeup, or the even worse imitations and accents. Perhaps a combination of all.

“Hey, it’s a little crowded in here, I think we should go backstage to talk to the organizers. After all, they would be the ones with any insight, right?”

You look behind your shoulder just to discover that the person you came with is nowhere to be found.

“Splendid!” you mutter under your breath annoyed, but when you turn your head back to the front, Cas is standing there only inches away from you.

“Jesus, Cas, I almost punched you! For future reference – don’t scare me like this. Sometimes I hit instead of screaming.” you scold him in a low voice, trying to avoid any unsolicited attention.

He looks at you apologetically, holding up a paper cup.

“Noted and I’m sorry. It’s just you said you would like some coffee so I went and got you this. I highly doubt that it’s premium quality like the sticker on the machine claimed but I figured it’s better than nothing, right?”

“Oh, wow… I’m sure you’ve known it already but if not… I love you!” you say, taking the steamy drink from him.

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want to know the answers to, pretty boy!”

You wink at him and his lips curl into a small smile.

“That. Was. Brilliant.”

Each syllabification is followed by a clap and both of you snap your heads to where the sounds are coming from.

“Beg your pardon?” you question, raising an eyebrow at a short man dressed in all black.

The taller guy standing next to him speaks up instead.

“He meant the bit you just did.” the perplexed look on your face urges him to wallow in further explanation. “You know, you’re obviously dressed as Y/N and your friend is obviously dressed as Castiel, and the dialogue you just did was spot on. The way you managed to capture their dynamic is remarkable. I mean we’ve seen a few Y/Ns and Cases here today, but you two have delivered the best portrayal by far.”

You swallow hard, not knowing how to react to this, but fortunately Cas does.

“Thank you! That’s really nice of you to say! And your portrayal of… uhm… of-”

“Lucifer and Crowley.” the guy points at himself first, then at the short man, helping Cas out before the situation could get any more embarrassing.

“Ah, yes, Lucifer and Crowley. You guys did an outstanding job with their portrayal, too.”

“Thanks!”

You silently pray for the interaction to be over, but the tall guy who labeled himself as Lucifer keeps pushing things to much of your chagrin.

“You know, we used to think Castiel had a thing for Dean.” he exclaims, and you have to try your best not to burst out laughing at the perplexed face the angel in question makes.

“But now we’re a hundred percent sure he’s into Y/N and the feeling is very much so mutual.” fake Crowley adds, making you choke on the sip of coffee you’ve just taken.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks but you ignore his inquiry. Your focus is entirely fixated on the wannabes.

“What- what makes you think that?”

They exchange a proud glance, ready to elaborate on the topic.

“Well, for one, Castiel helped Y/N quit smoking. You don’t meddle with someone else’s addiction unless you care for them.” fake Lucifer points out.

“I think that’s something one would do for a really close friend, too.” you counter his argument in a heartbeat.

“Sure, maybe. But would a close friend take an angel blade almost to the heart for the other, like Y/N did for Cas? That’s something that on most occasions not even family would do, let alone a friend…”

You open your mouth to protest but it’s fake Crowley’s turn to contribute to the debate.

“Yeah, you watch Netflix with friends or have a meaningful conversation with them over a nice cup of coffee, but you don’t get stabbed for them, nah. Plus, I specifically remember that one part in the latest book where Y/N was doing yoga and Cas accidentally saw her through the cracked open door. Now, the thoughts he had were anything but friendly, to say the least...”

“Alright, I think that’s enough!” Cas interjects and you can see a slight blush tint his cheeks.

“Attention, everyone! May I please have your attention?!” a lady with a headset starts shouting few feet away from you, putting an end to your inconvenient discussion with Hell’s fake representatives. “Okay... so, I’ve just got the news that Mr.Shurley is unable to make it today.”

A wave of displeased grunts washes over the crowd and the lady starts lifting the spirit up, but you don’t hear any of her consoling promises. Your legs are taking you out of there at a quick pace. You got the info you wanted – he’s not gonna be there – so there really isn’t a reason for you to stick around.

Just as you shut the car door, Cas appears in the driver’s seat next to you.

There’s a moment of silence as neither of you can word the gazillion thoughts running through your minds.

“Look, can we just not talk about what those nerds said? Like ever?” you eventually speak up in the hopes that he would agree, but to much of your surprise, he replies with a firm ‘No.’

“What do you mean, ‘No’, Cas?”

He turns to face you and you swear you’ve never seen those baby blue eyes more vibrant than now.

“I mean I’m not gonna let this one go. So, start talking.”

You’re usually better at standing your ground but this time there’s just something in his gaze that makes you surrender before it could all begin, so you just mumble a “fine” through gritted teeth.

“I..uh.. I didn’t wanna come to this convention today because I was afraid that what happened would happen… and ta-da, it did.”

He furrows his brows.

“I’m not certain I’m following.”

“Jesus, Cas, you’re hellbent on making me say this, aren’t you? Alright then, here it goes…” you take a deep breath to prepare for the big reveal, then continue “I’ve been kind of harboring these feelings for you for a while now and I was afraid if I came here, someone who read the books would point it out. And that’s exactly what happened.”

“Oh. So, this is the real reason you were anxious this morning, not the literary enthusiasts and their imitation.”

“Yup. I’m not saying that I entirely get the dressing up thing, but that was just an excuse.”

“I see. The only thing I don’t understand now is the reason why you didn’t want me to know about your feelings.”

You hang your head in shame.

“I – I just didn’t want to ruin what we have now, I guess.”

Out of the blue, he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“What makes you think confessing would’ve ruined it? In my opinion, a little upgrade is long overdue.” he whispers in an even hoarser tone than usual, making your eyes go wide.

“What are you talking about, Cas?”

“I’m talking about the fact that those feelings of yours are reciprocated. They have been for a long time now, I just did not have the slightest of idea how to present them to you.“

Your heart skips a beat at his words. Is this really happening right now? It’s too good to be true, and things like that have a tendency of biting you in the ass. Perhaps you’re dreaming? Or is this a cruel prank? Would he do that to you?

You squint your eyes, examining every feature of Castiel’s face suspiciously, looking for any sign that might give away the truth behind his words.

“Did those nerds drug you after I’d stormed out and now you’re just saying this ‘cause you’re high? Or did an undercover witch put a spell on you? Or did-”

He rolls his eyes, fed up with your ridiculous ideas, and shuts you up the best possible way he could come up with – by kissing you with a profound passion that has been buried for so long and is finally set free.

“Do you still think I’m high?” he questions after breaking apart.

“Nope, your counter argument has been quite convincing.” you say while trying to stabilize your breath. “But you know what would destroy even the last shred of doubt I have?”

“Go on…”

You put a hand on his thigh.

“If you told me about those thoughts you had while watching me do yoga…”

He looks at your hand, then his gaze slowly travels up to your face. Is that lust in his eyes?

“Or better yet, why don’t I show you? I saw a motel a few miles down the road.”

The proposition renders you speechless – something that you rarely are. It takes a good few seconds to regain your composure.

“Wow, pretty boy… that’s… that’s kinky.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea!” he replies, starting the engine.

Usually you detest rest stops once you get on the road but this time, you simply cannot wait.

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