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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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Hi there, I wanted to make a request from your masterlist. It's about a Miles Morales x Reader. The Reader is flirty and sexy with him but he gets so nervous when she talks to him. The rest is up to you

Yaayyyy my first Miles Morales request!!! I couldn’t find a way to add your second ask on here, but I did read it and added in the info per your request. Love him, he deserves nothing but the best (this is a Miles Morales SIMP ACCOUNT). I just chose headcanons for this, hope it’s okay! Also, reader and Miles are 18 in this. Reader is female in this, and it gets a little cheesy (I am so sorry 😭). Hope you enjoy!

TW: a little spicy line is written, but nothing graphic is stated or mentioned (honestly it’s a blink and you miss it, but still wanted to put a TW

Translation: Te amo mi girasol radiante = I love you my radiant sunflower

Te amo= I love you

Miles with Flirty! Reader

Graduation was right around the corner, and Miles was still struggling to even form a complete sentence with you

He couldn’t help it! Everytime he thought he finally had his nerves under control, you would make him come undone. Your words would just leave your mouth smooth, sounding like sweet honey on his ears. Especially when you called him dear

Especially when you called him dear

WHEW, that was the one thing that you just make him melt on the spot

Miles liked you-no, he loves you. He’s in love with you. Under your flirty persona, you’re so sweet. Sure, you loved to tease him at any given chance, but you never went too far and always made sure that he was having a good day and smiling a genuine smile. As much as you made the butterflies in his stomach flutter nonstop, you’re the best part of his day, every day, even outside of school!

Just thinking about you made his heart want to beat out of his chest, but with graduation coming up, it made him feel down too. You guys didn’t have time (or maybe you just purposely didn’t bring it up) to talk about future plans in detail, but what if you were leaving New York to go somewhere across the country? Or what if you were going somewhere outside the country? He wouldn’t be able to see you, and a phone can only make up so much for physical contact and distance. He wouldn’t be able to swing by (literally) to check on you if that was the case, and everytime he thought about that scenario, it would just crush him

Which brought him to his current dilemma: finding a way to confess to you. Time was ticking, and he wasn’t going to risk losing you forever. Plus, you had to like him right? You wouldn’t flirt and try to embarrass him if you didn’t...right? He knew you wouldn’t, and he may or may not had spied on you to double check this

He wasn’t stalking you he swears! But he did beg ask Ganke to report back if you did the same with anyone else and may had swung around town whenever you were out. He was happy to report back that you didn’t so all is well

You did say that you loved his art, and he’ll never forget that since after you complimented you, you soon said, “One day you need to paint me like one of your French girls...although I hope I’m the only girl you get to see like that.”, then proceeded to wink at him.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so close to passing out and being on cloud nine at the same time lmao

But that was besides the point. He’s beyond nervous to present this to you, but he was going to go through with it. No backing out now! He’s a hero damn it! He’s faced worse, stared death in the eyes, he could handle this! He’s going to win you over, and if he didn’t (which would seriously put a damper on the rest of his life), then at least he gave it a chance and wasn’t spending forever thinking about “what if?”

Miles finally landed on your window sill, giving his signature knock to notify you (which was a special thing that only you two had, no one else). You must have just gotten out of the shower, already getting ready for bed. When you looked up end saw his mask, you slowly made his way towards him, already getting that look in your eyes

WHEW do you not know the things that you do to this man?!?!

“What brings the friendly neighborhood hero swinging by my window this late? Missed me that much, spidey? And you brought me a present? Dear, you shouldn’t have!”

“Well- um, actually-

There it goes; his nerves getting the best of him again. Out of all the times it would be when he’s trying to confess to you. What could he do? What should he do??

What would Uncle Aaron do?

“Actually, yeah I did. I couldn’t end the night without seeing my favorite girl.”

OOP

W-where is this Miles coming from? Is this the same Miles??

Okay, he caught you lacking a little bit. He caught you off guard but you can recover! “Oh? That makes me sad. I thought I was your only girl.”, then you put on your best pout, but you were only teasing (kinda)

“Well you are my only girl! At least...I want you to be.”

Okay, now it was your turn to be flustered. You could feel yourself becoming speechless, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Was he being for real?? Did he finally connect the dots and realize your strong feelings for him? Your love for him???!

It was beyond obvious that you’re in love with the dork. He was so bright, always having an aura around him that just made feel so..at ease and comfortable. It felt like being kissed by the Sun’s warmth. He just made you feel so fuzzy inside, and it was a welcoming feeling. But you were so on edge that you were either being too pushy or he just took it like a joke. Yes, you lived for his reactions to you flirting, but it bothered you that he wasn’t receiving your feelings at all (or so you thought)

You knew that you can come on slightly strong, but you couldn’t help it! You’re head over heels in love with this man, and that was the only way that made you feel like you had some sort of control over the situation. But oh, how the tables have turned!

And you’re certainly not complaining

“(Y/N)...I really, really like you. You’re just...amazing. No, beyond amazing! The way that I feel about you, I know I can’t describe it in words. You’re on my mind from the minute I wake up to the minute I close my eyes. Whenever I’m out saving the city, I make sure that I come back alive. I do it for my parents, my friends, the people, and I do it because I have to make sure that I keep you happy...I gotta make sure that your sweet smile stays on your face. That no one can have the chance to take your shine away.”

You were shocked. Did he really mean that? Was Miles Morales, the boy you could make sweat in 2.5 seconds...confessing to you?

“It’s so much more that I just don’t know how to describe, but I do remember how much you liked my art. Even if you were cracking jokes nonstop. So...here it goes.”

And then he revealed his gift. It was a book? Then you opened it and oh my goodness-

It was a scrapbook, with the cover being done in Miles’ style with your name front and center. He put his own handmade stickers that he created personally for you and other small things were scattered on it. Flipping it open, you realized that it was not only a scrapbook, but your own personal art journal/sketchbook. Some pages had pictures of you two together, other pages had hand drawn portraits of you. Whether it was with one of your daring smirks that you would flash to Miles, others would be showing you in such an enchanting light with a soft smile on your face.

Continuing going through the pages, you saw that he remembered the moments you spent together, no matter how small it seemed. The taped arcade coin from when you guys went to the boardwalk (and came back empty handed), the movie ticket when you both went to see your favorite movie, the one mini sketch he almost threw away at lunch and you begged him not to. Any memory that you guys made together, he put it in the book

The final page, however, was something else

“If you- if you don’t like me back, it’s fine. I won’t hold it against you or anything, and I do wanna stay friends, but if you don’t,” he looked crestfallen, “that’s okay too. I’ll still care for you, always. I just wanted to tell you how I feel before it’s too late.”

The page held the main photo that you held close to your heart; you were both in the photo booth, just making goofy expressions and doing stupid stuff. But the very last photo, you both genuinely smiled at each other, both getting a tender look in your eyes. It was such a delicate memory, and you nonstop begged to keep it (Miles was fighting hard to try and keep it, and the only way that you could settle it was rock, paper, scissors, and you lost), but you weren’t able to. It warmed you to know that he only held on to it for your very own present

Surrounding the photo with more of his distinctive artwork (that was very romantic mind you; hearts, mini portraits of you beaming, flowers, the works), you spotted a handeritten note at the very end of the book.

“Mi Amor, never forget that I love you. You’ll always be my sunflower, always. Te amo mi girasol radiante.”

You saw the tear hit the page before you realized that you were crying

Miles saw it and he felt his heart pretty much shattered. You didn’t return his feelings, which sucked but that wasn’t the main problem. He made you cry, and that was the last thing on his list to do!

“You did all of this for me?”

Huh? “Well...yeah? I overdid it, I knew it. I blew it and now our friendship is gonna be-“

“Miles you dumbass!”

With that being said, you ran towards him, crushing him into a hug. He stumbled back a bit, but caught his footing and slowly hugged you back. Was he in the clear? Did this mean-

You stared up at him, tears in your eyes but with such a glowing smile on your face.

“Of course I love you, Miles!”

Oh my God

OH MY GOD

You LOVE HIM?? Not like but LOVE??!

He couldn’t help it, and spun you around in circles while yelling in excitement. You accepted his feelings, you loved him, he made you cry tears of joy!!!

Uncle Aaron would be proud

“Dear sshhhh! It’s late and my parents are sleeping! You don’t wanna wake them up, you’re still in your costume!”

“(Y/N) you can’t tell me that you love me and then expect me to not scream and shout.”

“Well dear, we can definitely go out and celebrate tomorrow. I want every to see just how amazing and handsome my boyfriend is.”

“W-well, I want everyone to see how amazing and gorgeous my girlfriend is!”

“Are you saying that they can’t see that now? Dear, you’re already hurting my feelings!”

“WAIT! I didn’t mean- you’re already gorgeous! I just meant-"

You were already giggling at him, gently smiling at him He always fell for that trick in the book. Never fails

“Dear, I can find a way to celebrate a little early.”

“How is that? I mean, I still have to patrol, and don’t you want to take things a li-little slow?!”

Curse his voice cracking!

“Dear, don’t you have such a wild imagination? But no, not that yet. But come closer and you’ll find out that it’s not too bad of a surprise.”

He brought his face down, inching toward yours, when you smoothly leaned in and kissed him. His lips were a little chapped (probably because of the mask), but you didn’t care not one bit. He froze for a second, then melted into it quickly. He dreamed of this moment for so long, and for it to finally happen was a dream come true. He didn’t want it to end, but he did have to breath, and finish patrol

“I love you (Y/N). Te amo.”

“Te amo, dear. I’m excited about tomorrow! Now that we can finally do things together as a couple and not two awkward “best-friends-who-obviously-have-feelings-but-are-too-dumb-and-scared-to-notice.”

“Hey! At least I confessed first and not make a living out of teasing my crush!”

“Hey, technically, I was the one that confessed first dear. You were just too nervous to confront your feelings. And don’t lie, your palms were always sweaty and sticking everytime I barely touched them!”

“I can’t help it that you make me nervous! You’re too pretty!”

“Sounds like a personal problem, dear. And now it’s your problem.”

“...I’m fine with that.”

“Now go, Spiderman, before it gets too late. I need you full of energy tomorrow, since were spending the whole day together! So hurry up with patrol and get some sleep, I’m keeping you to myself all day.”

“Okay, okay!”, he chuckled with you. “I do think I need an extra boost though, I’m feeling so drained, and I don’t know how to fix! I heard that a kiss from your girlfriend can help though.”

“Oh dear, you’ll get more than a kiss if you don’t leave now. But, I guess I can help my superhero boyfriend just once.”

Obviously more kisses were exchanged, but who cares? You both finally found each other, it was like you finally completed a puzzle after finding a missing piece. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were you. Even after graduation, you’ll be by his side, no matter what

You’re his sunflower, and he’s your happiness. And you both couldn’t be any happier with that outcome

#miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #Spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman x reader #spiderman miles morales

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

Text

In the Bond-Chapter 2

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning Next Chapter Read on AO3 Masterlist

Lilah slid into a chair and regarded the lovers. Kate was sitting in Richie’s lap, rolling her eyes as he pressed intermittent kisses on her cheeks and neck. She’d grown used to their easy affection since the brothers had saved Kate from Amaru. For the first few days, Richie had hardly let go of Kate’s hand, would go where she went, snarling at anyone who came a little too close. Even now, he didn’t go very long without touching her, no matter the situation—a hand on her thigh, a the small of her back, toying with her hair. Kate seemed to take it all in stride, a soft smile that somehow made her look impossibly young.

It was Kate’s eyes that Lilah noticed first when she’d stepped through the doors of Jackknife Jed’s. They flashed with gloom, aging her in a way that in no way reflected in her actual face. Looking at her made Lilah feel so disjointed that she still struggled to hold the younger woman’s gaze. Still, despite the unease, Lilah liked Kate. She certainly made dealing with the ever-arguing brothers just a little bit easier. Lilah couldn’t so easily be out-voted any more, and that was worth the disquiet she sometimes felt in Kate’s presence.

The door to the office flung open, Seth barreling through with no regard for how it hit the shelf behind it, a few of Richie’s knickknacks shaking in their stands. He was wiping sweat from his brow, his ever present frown just a little deeper than normal. Lilah’s eyes narrowed as she watched him come closer.

“Hey, watch the merchandise,” Richie called out, one hand lifting from around Kate’s middle to gesture broadly at the memorabilia.

Fandom was the one thing that Lilah and Richie really agreed on. They’d spent a lot of time on stake outs talking Star Trek, and then Firefly, followed by a whole host of niche geeky topics. He was surprisingly insightful about the little details that made each show unique. And, Lilah had spent a lot of time in hotels watching old B horror movies to be able to hold her own when he went down a rabbit hole. It made the fact that she disagreed with him about the tenants of Jedi life acceptable, in his mind.

“We’ve got bigger problems than Obi Wan’s lightsaber, Richie.”

Seth was definitely in a mood. He might not understand Richie’s interests, and he might roll his eyes when his brother went on a tangent about canon timelines, but he at least respected Richie’s belongings enough that he didn’t intentionally screw around with them. This, whatever it was, was serious. Lilah eyed him narrowly, waiting.

Eyes vaguely betrayed, Richie muttered, “Its Mace Windu.”

Kate patted Richie’s arm lightly, saying, “What’s the problem?”

Rounding his desk, Seth sat heavily. After a deep sigh, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it on the desk in front of him. It bounced, making a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it slid across the pressed wood of the tabletop.

“We got a message today,” he explained, “And I don’t know what to make of it.”

Lilah leaned forward and plucked it up with two fingers. The paper was a heavy vellum, thick woven. She unfolded it, curious. The ink was a deep red, the lettering thick. As she brought it closer to read, Lilah caught a fragrance that had followed her in the weeks since their last failed mission.

Oh, no.

The letter was meticulously worded. The writing thick and bold, swirling softly around the crosses. Formal. Elegant. Commanding. Brasa.

Lilah read and re-read it, “He’s asking for peace.”

She looked at Seth, brows lifted in surprise. Then, she stood, stepped to Richie’s desk, and handed it to the younger brother. All the while, she tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. Lilah was grateful that Seth never bothered with the overhead lights, that only the lamps on either desk illuminated the room. Her face was hot, her hands shaking. She didn’t know how to stand so as to draw no attention to herself while she internally panicked.

“He’s playing a game,” Seth said as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a bottle, yanking out the stopper, and drinking straight from it. “Its a trap.”

Richie took a few moments to read the letter before Kate took it from him. She stood and read it, as well. Lilah watched her face, trying to discern her reaction. Kate chewed her thumbnail as her eyes flicked over the page, her brows together. A shadow passed over her expression.

“No,” Kate uttered so low that Lilah almost didn’t hear it, “He’s really asking for peace.”

Lilah didn’t have the time to think about how she might know that, or the implications. Or, how she might feel about those implications.

Seth scoffed, “How the fuck do you know that?”

Setting the letter down on Richie’s desk, Kate shrugged, “I spent a lot of time with him when I was...when she was inside me.” She sniffed, “Even though Amaru thought they were bullshit, he obeys the old laws. This is a formal call for peace talks. He’s written it in his own blood.”

Lilah felt her eyes widen, shocked that Kate could tell whose blood was on the paper. Shocked even further that someone would write a letter in their literal blood. Shocked still further that she cared how he might have procured his own blood in enough supply to write such a letter.

There were a few side effects from Kate’s possession, little quirks that Kate would sometimes display without really thinking. She’d stand up way too fast, know who might walk through the door next, hear conversations from the next room. Lilah did her best to just roll with it, but this was a little bit too freaky for Lilah’s normal ‘roll with it’ sensibilities. She deliberately set it aside, hoping that she wouldn’t need to examine the thought later.

Richie lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke through his nose, “Why now? We’ve spent the last six months fighting and killing each other, and now he wants to talk peace.”

Lilah sat down, folding her hands in her lap as she tried very hard not to think this was about her. She could not be so self-centered as to think that Brasa would give up a war just because she happened to be on the other side. A war he was, by all accounts, winning as the Gecko’s ceded more and more territory to the culebras he seemed to govern. There had to be another explanation. A trap, maybe, a false sense of security.

“Alright,” Seth drawled, “We get him in a room and gank him.”

Kate gasped, looking horrified, “We have a chance to get real progress, here. Do you want to fight forever?”

Lilah definitely knew the answer to that question. Seth’s entire life was a fight—physical or otherwise. He wasn’t comfortable if there wasn’t some sort of conflict to battle through, his brother at his side. Even if they achieved peace, he’d be at someone’s throat within twenty four hours. It was both endearing and utterly frustrating to watch him cycle through the same motions over and over.

Seth rose, leaning his hands on the desk, “You, more than anyone, have a reason to want every one of those snakes dead.”

Sneering, Kate crossed her arms, “I, more than anyone, have a reason to want all of this to stop. I don’t want to see any more death.”

Behind her, Richie shifted uneasily in his chair. Lilah took each of them in, knowing there was far more history than she was privy to playing out right in front of her. It left her feeling like she couldn’t make a good decision, didn’t have enough data to create a strategy. This was not her preferred method of moving through life. She remained still, waiting.

“We should meet with him,” Kate asserted, hip cocking to the side.

It was not a rare occasion that Kate would insist that they act in a certain way. She had a strong moral compass that clashed with the brothers’ more criminal predilections. More often than not, Kate centered them, kept them from going too far. Lilah was grateful. She had never been successful in stemming off their momentum, once they got started.

“Absolutely not,” Seth shot back, his mouth a firm line.

Lilah surprised herself by adding, “I agree with Seth.”

Richie stubbed out his cigarette, “I’m with Kate.”

This was not surprising. Richie tended to side with Kate on most things. Lilah caught the look he sent Kate, though Kate was still looking at Seth. His eyes were following the line of her petite body, admiring in a way that made Lilah look away, embarrassed.

Seth circled his desk, leaning his hip against it, “Two against two. How’re we going to break the tie?”

There was a beat of silence, then Richie stood and offered up his fist, “Best out of three?”

When Richie beat Seth two to one, Seth gave him a hardy ‘fuck you’ and strode from the room. Richie heaved a beleaguered sigh and followed him. Lilah dropped her head in her hands, boggled by the decision making skills of her partners. Rock, paper scissors...honestly.

“Why don’t you want to meet with them?”

Lilah lifted her eyes at the question, feeling her chest constrict, “I won’t have to do the actual meeting, Kate.” Lie, lie, lie, Lilah, “I just don’t think we’ll be successful.”

Kate tilted her head to the side, “You think its a trap?”

Lilah grabbed onto that line of thinking. It was logical, far more logical than ‘No, Kate. I just don’t want to meet up with someone who claims I am his bondmate and with whom I have exchanged blood’. Even in her head, it sounded so incredibly stupid. Not to mention the fact that she’d been hiding it long enough that admitting it would only lead to suspicion.

“I think Seth is too hot headed,” Lilah clarified quickly, “I think that it’ll fall apart before it even gets started.”

There, that was a convincing lie that was pretty grounded in enough truth that even Lilah half believed it. She very carefully did not study Kate’s face to see if the lie had landed.

Kate moved closer, her ancient gaze peering at Lilah carefully, “You’re right.”

Oh. Okay.

“Thank you.”

“You need to go with them.”

Ah, fuck.

“What?”

Kate nodded, her expression hardening, “You go with them, keep things level, make this work.”

“Me?” Lilah didn’t like how high her voice came out. She cleared her throat, “No, you know them better than I do. You go. Bring me whatever contract they draw up, I’ll red line it, make sure its fair.”

That was her role. Look over the game plan, find the flaws, work out the kinks. In that, Lilah was comfortable and safe. No need to put herself back in a room with Brasa. No need to let this get even more out of hand. No need for the messiness that would come from that.

Shaking her head, Kate took a step back, “I can’t. I can’t face him. What I did to him was,” she searched for words, “terrible.”

The sudden turn of Kate’s tone, the way her face screwed up in real disgust, made Lilah sit up and stake notice. Where had this come from?

She inhaled, trying to parse the words, “What does that mean?”

Kate’s eyes were focused on the middle distance, her mouth quivering, “Amaru loved torture, all kinds of torture. She didn’t care who it was that she hurt. I—she liked,” Another breath, “Brasa was blood bound to her, she could make him do things, do anything. She never got her hands dirty, but him…”

Lilah waited for more, but Kate simply stopped speaking. She looked shell shocked, tears welling up. God, but Lilah had been completely fooled by Kate’s frequent smiles and clear headedness. She hadn’t known how much trauma the hell queen had put Kate through, hadn’t even thought that Kate was conscious of the things that she’d done while trapped inside her own body. Moved to action, she stood and embraced Kate, saying to her the only comfort she could think to give.

“Its the past. And, it wasn’t you.” Then, “Are you still blood bound?”

She felt like real shit for asking, but she needed to know what Brasa’s relationship was with Kate, and if it would make their own relationship (did they even have a relationship?) more complicated. Kate made a soft sound in the negative and Lilah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. That was one complication she had, thankfully, avoided.

Kate’s body was taut, “When she first brought me back, when I met him, I felt the power I had over him. And, she abused it. I drained him dry that first night, to regain her strength. After three days, when he managed to stand up off the ground, she did it again. Because she could.” Kate pulled back and looked at Lilah, “That wasn’t even the worst of it. How can I look him in the eye after all that?”

Lilah shook her head, “Like I said, it wasn’t you. And, if he really wants to talk peace, he’ll set it aside. If not, fuck ‘im.”

That, at least, was the truth. Lilah had been fighting his kind of less than a year and she was tired of it. She wanted peace. She wanted to go on nice, normal jobs—jewel theft, a bank heist, possibly even some fine art that they could sell on the black market. Stuff that was in her wheelhouse, in her comfort zone. If he was going to hold Kate responsible for the actions of Amaru, then he wasn’t worth negotiating with. Full stop.

Kate loosed a soundless laugh, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

#from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #In the Bond

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kurlyfrasier · 3 years

Text

Spaghetti Girl (Part 2/3)

Dean x Reader

Synopsis: Ok so I had a really good description but lost it so.....yeah. Can’t think of words right now. Will add synopsis later...This is one of my favorite SPN fanfics I’ve written, so please read!

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: none

You had no idea Dean had a tender smile playing on his lips as he watched you dance. If one could really call it dancing. But it was good exercise and ten times more fun than your everyday workout routine your doctor had you on in an attempt to keep your symptoms down.

Speaking of which, you would have to tell the boys you needed to split for a couple of weeks to go for your check-up, refill your meds, and probably get your yearly MRI done. The thought had you unknowingly stop dancing mid-song, a frown marred your features. How would you go about telling Dean you suddenly had to leave? You had no family, none who were blood related, anyway. They were the only hunters you really knew, so you couldn’t claim you were visiting another hunter. Maybe you could tell him you found a simple case. No need for them to come along. Maybe you could slip away. It’s not like Dean would really notice. He had made it clear he doesn’t like you anyway.

Snapping your fingers, you strode out of the room, deciding that you’d tell Sam you would be gone for a couple of weeks and slip away that night with Dean none the wiser. Perfect! Then Sam could tell Dean you had to leave for whatever reason. That was, if he even noticed you were gone. For now, you would pack and find Sam.

Packing took less than ten minutes. You had decided to only take the essentials, a couple of books, and your trusty weapons duffell that barely left your side, just in case. You decided not to worry about your missing Nicholas Sparks book. You could always buy another one anyway. Sam, on the other hand, took a few minutes to find. When you did find him, you were surprised to see him in the kitchen. Alone.

“I thought Dean was making dinner?” You asked, slowly stepping into the room, eyes roaming for Dean, worried he would pop out any second and ask questions you didn’t want to answer. There was no way you could lie through one of his interrogations. The mouthwatering aroma of beef and red sauce didn’t even penetrate your senses, you were so nervous.

“Uh, he was,” Sam looked over his shoulder and continued when he didn’t see Dean with you. “He is, really. He had to step out for a sec. Looks like he made our famous Winchester Pasta Sauce too,” he smiled. Maybe he could help his brother out a little. He did seem a bit desperate earlier.

“Oh good. About him stepping out, I mean. And the sauce. Sounds delicious,” you babbled. Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Anyway, Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta leave tonight. I, uh, have someplace I have to be. Is it okay if I leave most of my stuff here?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Y/n, you know you’re welcome anytime and that room will always be yours, right? You’ve been here for a few months now. I was hoping you were thinking of this place as your home.”

“Yeah, yeah. It is. I just wanted to make sure, thanks.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions as you awkwardly stood there, rubbing your hands up and down your hips. A sad attempt at wiping the sweat off your clammy palms. That happened when you were nervous… or lying. Or anytime you felt distressed, really.

“So, where are you going?”

“Denver,” you lied. You were actually going to St. Louis, but you didn’t want Sam to have to lie to Dean. This way if he asks or goes looking for you -which would happen with your luck- Dean won’t find out what’s really going on. Then he’ll never know about your neuromuscular problem and you’ll be able to continue hunting with them. You knew it was stupid, really. You knew hunting wasn’t the smartest thing to be doing with your disease. Not smart at all actually, but you felt like you were really helping people and that felt good. Nothing was going to keep you from ganking creeps and killers if you had any say in the matter. Not even the Winchesters. Luckily you caught the disease early on, so for now, your symptoms haven’t completely disabled you. Make things difficult? Yes. But you haven’t gotten to the point where your limbs don’t listen at all.

“So, why Denver?”

“Change of scenery,” you shrugged. “I like the Rockies. It’ll be a nice vacation and Dean won’t have to be on his toes around me all the time.”

“I don’t think Dean minds having you around, y/n.”

“It’s okay, Sam, really. Some people just don’t click, ya know?” Even though you had wished that Dean would notice you. Or at least talk to you. Or that you would grow on him over time, like asparagus. Nobody really likes asparagus the first few times they try them.

“You gonna leave after dinner?”

“Yeah, tonight. After you guys go to bed.”

“No goodbye, huh?” Sam chuckled.

“This is my goodbye, Tallboy,” you smacked him playfully on the arm. “I just figured Dean isn’t going to care one way or the other. So instead of making him wish me luck and say goodbye, I’ll just slip out.” You smiled sadly. You think Dean and yourself would get along well if he gave you the chance. You both love classic rock and you’re both great hunters. He always makes you laugh when he deigns to tell jokes in front of you. Not that he ever tells you the jokes. “Besides,” you continued, “I’ll only be gone a couple of weeks.”

Around the corner in the hallway, Dean’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. You were leaving. You were leaving that night and you weren’t going to tell him goodbye. Had he really made you think that little of him?

He had followed you to your room earlier, watched you pack and wondered what for. Now he knew.

Without warning he walked into the kitchen as if he had no clue about the conversation. “Hey.”

“You’re back,” Sam stated the obvious, noticing immediately something was wrong, but kept silent about it as he moved away from the stove. “Uh, I went ahead and added the sauce.”

“Yeah, thanks man.” Dean was furious with you. Not that he had any right to be and he knew it. Which only made it worse. He wanted a nickname. He wanted you to tell him goodbye, for you tell him about your medical stuff. He wanted you to talk to him about books and movies and music and- well, everything. Yet all he had done was make everything worse and now, when he finally decides to show you he wants you- needs you, really- you’re leaving. For two whole weeks. He was going to lose his mind without you around. It was hard enough making you partner with Sam on hunts. At least in those situations he would be within hearing distance. But Denver?

“Spaghetti will be done soon, y/n, if you wanted some,” Dean said, unable to face you.

If you wanted some? Of course you wanted some. There was no way even Dean didn’t know spaghetti was your favorite food of all time. Actually, maybe there was a chance he didn’t know. Considering he always seemed to go out of his way to ignore you.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll go clean up real quick,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen. Sometimes Dean could seriously be frustrating. Maybe it was time you started thinking about leaving the Winchester’s bunker permanently. Obviously only one brother wanted you there, as much as you wished it wasn’t so, and it wasn’t the one in charge.

“That was-”

“A disaster, Sam. A complete and total disaster.”

“Well, as long as you-”

“Know? Yeah, I know. I heard every freakin’ word, Sam. Every. Word.”

“Oh. It’s only for a couple of weeks, Dean.”

“Only!? I’ve already wasted three months! Possibly ruined any chance I have.”

“I doubt that. Y/n’s naturally forgiving. We can come up with a plan while she’s gone. A whole new Dean.” Sam moved his hand in front of him as if he was reading the words in the air.

“Or we could follow her and make up a plan on the way.” Dean poured the sauce in with the noodles and started mixing aggressively.

“Follow her?”

“Yeah. To Denver.”

“You mean St. Louis.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “I mean Denver. That’s what she said.”

“Yeah, but she was lying. You’d know that if you were in the room with us earlier. There’s no way she’s going to Denver.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Dean whisper-hissed as he heard you walking their direction from down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Both Winchesters were sleeping as you tiptoed through the halls. You had put your bags in your old Wrangler while Dean finished up the spaghetti. And by bags, you meant all of them. You were leaving the Winchesters for good. Never to return. You were sad about not telling Sam to his face, but a letter would have to suffice. There was no way you were going to go one more day in Dean’s presence. You have no idea what you ever did to him, but that man really didn’t like you. He only tolerated you because you and Sam got along so well and you knew it. But now you had to get to your check-up with Doc.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, shaking his brother awake. They had decided after dinner to head out after you in the morning. Sam had put a tracking device in your phone the first week you stayed at the bunker. So following you would be easy. “Dean! Wake up! She’s gone. Like gone gone.”

“Gone?” He shot up, clothes still on from yesterday. He didn’t want to waste even a second when they were to head after you.

“Yeah, she left a letter. Dude, she really thinks you hate her.”

“Give me that,” he snatched the paper out of Sam’s hand and sat up to read.

Sam,

I’m sorry, but this is a permanent goodbye. I know we get along splendidly and you make me feel very welcome, but Dean can’t stand me. I’m done making him feel uncomfortable in his own home. For that’s exactly what the bunker is for you guys.

I’ll miss you Tallboy. I hope you both live long lives like you’re meant to because the world would be nothing without you guys. Be careful out there. Maybe someday we’ll meet up again.

Thanks for everything,

Y/n

P.S. Let me know if you find my book

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

#fanfic #spn fanfic #dean x reader #my writing #dean #sam #winchester #i hate tags #hopefully you gave part one a chance lol

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jenneferofjengaberg · 3 years

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Supernatural 4x11 “Family Remains” Rewatch

A standard cold open. A dude is murdered by a scary looking girl in a locked room. MOTW episode then.

Dean is working instead of endlessly discussing a soul-shattering trauma that can never be forgotten or fixed. This always seemed like a healthy coping method to me, but wth do I know.

Oh yes, finally the Supernatural/Toy Story crossover we’ve all been waiting for, where Sam and Dean finally gank Sid and stop his reign of plastic terror:

A quarrelsome American family shows up to look at their new house. The uncle is a stock level douchebag without even opening his mouth.

The boys warn them off with some very sketch “county code enforcement” nonsense. Oh, you’ll give them a fine, Dean? Terrifying.

This episode is another one with Stephen King vibes, especially the cleaning lady that they interview. She’s got a real Dolores Claiborne thing going on.

There’s something wrong with this family. They all seem to referencing some recent bad times and hoping, but not really believing, that moving will somehow fix all their problems. Yikes.

I knew it! This is a Supernatural/Toy Story crossover! Andy is dead?!

The daughter gets her hand licked by…NOT a dog, and all hell breaks loose. There are accusations of molestation, a middle of the night county code enforcement visit, and the lights suddenly go out.

It’s been like ten minutes and Dean and Sam still have not explained that they are not “county code enforcement”. All while doing shit like screaming about their stolen guns, saying terrifying nonsense like “this ghost is hunting us”, and pouring rock salt all over the house. This family must be so confused lmao.

This is why that “we have to burn ALL the remains” thing was always a huge plot hole. Your average person leaves a whole lot of “remains” around, if remains are classified as “genetic material belonging to that person”. If so, it should technically be nearly impossible to destroy any ghost. I guess when my hairbrush ends up in a landfill somewhere it’ll be keeping my ass on this earth until kingdom come.

Of course, it’s not a ghost. It’s just a regular fucked up human being, which on Supernatural means it’s going to be about 40 times as traumatic as any regular monster episode. This checks out, tbh.

This scene with Dean and Unfun Uncle Buck crawling around inside the walls is so dark, I can’t see shit. I get atmosphere, but if you can’t actually see anything at all, it takes away the suspense and just feels confusing and annoying.

Dean rarely looks afraid of actual ghosts or monsters, but when on cases involving humans (eg. The Benders), he sometimes does, which is really interesting from a character standpoint.

While he delivers the bad news to the rest of the family that Uncle Ted is dead, you can just tell that Dean is adding this to the long list of horrible shit he’s personally responsible for. He uses a lot of “I” statements. “I had to carry him out”, “I couldn’t get to him in time”, and “I shouldn’t have left him alone”. There’s literally no need to say that stuff, it’s not even entirely accurate, he’s just torturing himself out loud.

This is obviously a Dean centered episode, but Sam is like, barely in this episode. He just sort of stands in the background of every scene looking very serious.

We finally find out that Andy was brutally murdered by his Buzz Lightyear action figure after it was possessed by the ghost of Sid’s little sister, Sid’s first human victim. Ha ha, just kidding, Andy died in a car accident.

Sam and Dean finally confront the very unpleasant elephant in the room. The girl who’s been trying to kill them is the result of some kind of horrifying father daughter incest/rape situation, and she’s been locked up in the walls of the house for her entire life. I have feelings about turning a trauma victim into a literal monster for a Supernatural episode, but it’s kind of par for the course with this show.

Dean says he can’t blame her for killing her captor, which like, yeah, obviously, but Sam is like “I’m sure her life was hell but that doesn’t mean she gets a free pass for a murder spree”. Uh? What? That’s not even what this is. From her point of view, she’s defending herself and the only home she’s ever known from people who must feel like very real threats to her. She needs intensive psychiatric care, not judgement.

It’s too dark to see anything again. The Winchesters really need to invest in some night-vision goggles.

Plot twist: turns out there’s two of these poor children. Dean kills the brother. It’s clearly self-defense, he was moments away from being stabbed, but it still feels kind of icky. Why did they write this episode?

The dad kills the girl. *sigh*

Dean talking about how he relates to these dead, tortured children is just...How he’s “worse” than they are because Hell dealt him so much pain and torture that when he got a chance to deal it out himself, he liked it. There’s actually some good stuff in here about how trauma changes you as a person (it literally rewires your brain) and about “good victims” and “bad victims”, but I’m not sure it would come through enough to your average uninformed viewer to justify the framing of two trauma survivors as monsters that had to be hunted. I feel like a better version of this story could make the same points while “saving” at least one of the lost children.

#text #kate rewatches spn #4x11 #long post #incest tw #rape tw

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years

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Slash Fiction - Ch 4

Title: Slash Fiction

Fandom: Supernatural

Series: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel (there will be more)

Rating: Lemon (for the series as a whole)

Tags: fluff, angst, pining, canon typical violence and gore

MASTERLIST

AO3

SERIES LIST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four

“Dean,” Sam whispered as Sera walked around the body hanging from the roof, same as the last.

Dean heard Sam, but couldn't register anything. He felt his heart rate increasing as he looked at the poor man in front of him. Familiar trench coat hanging around him, blue tie, dark messy hair… blue eyes.

“I know those guys said he was dressed like Cas, but Dean, he… he looks exactly like-”

“Yeah, I know, Sam!” Dean snapped, then quickly turned away from the body, not able to look anymore, and walked down the hall.

Sam and Sera shared a quick, knowing look between themselves as they watched Dean stop a few feet away and pull out his phone.

He couldn't help it. Normally this sort of thing didn't bother him too much anymore, it came with the job, but the fact that he was practically looking at Cas hanging from the ceiling made his stomach turn. He had to be sure, he had to ease his mind even though he knew he was being ridiculous, but he had to dial the number anyways.

The phone rang for what felt like a lifetime before someone picked up, and Dean sighed as the familiar voice hit his ears, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hiya, Cas,” he smiled, relieved.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah , I just…” He ran a hand down his face, “Just a rough night I guess, wanted to hear your voice.”

“Do you want me to come to you? I can fly in, just tell me where you are.”

“Naw, it's alright, I know you're busy helping Bobby with that vamp nest,” Dean risked a glance over his shoulder, seeing Sera and Sam still investigating the scene then turned back, “just hearing your voice is enough.”

There was a pause for a moment before Cas said, “As long as you're sure you're alright…”

“I'm fine, Cas, promise, just…” He closed his eyes tight, focusing for the moment on Cas’s voice in his ear, “Just distract me for a few, tell me about your job with Bobby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I would love to know what the hell’s going on,” Sam said as he circled the body once, “I was two feet away from what was clearly a spirit and there was no EMF at all. Maybe you're right, it must be broken.”

“It's not broken,” Sera replied, deep in thought when Sam looked at her in question.

“Do you know something?”

She hummed in response then said, “I’ll get Dean then we need to head back to the motel, I'll tell you everything when we get there.”

Sam nodded to her as she made her way down the hall towards Dean. He was still talking on the phone with his back to her and his head down, she didn't have to ask to know who he had called, who he would need right now.

“Yeah, Cas, I’ll call you if anything else comes up, maybe…” Dean scratched his head, “Maybe you can stop by the motel once we figure some things out?”

“Of course, Dean,” she heard Cas say through the phone.

“Great, I’ll shoot you a text when we’ve got some time.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them as she stood back and watched as Dean shuffled nervously from foot to foot, “Hey, Cas, I…”

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and huffed, “I gotta go, I’ll text you later.”

“Right…” She could hear the disappointment in Cas’s voice through the phone, “Text you later.”

“Bye, Cas.” And before Cas even had a chance to respond Dean hung up the phone. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Dean had already planned on not calling Cas when they got back to the motel. That as soon as those feelings started bubbling their way up, Dean would do anything to tamp them back down again, despite the fact that right now he clearly needed to see Cas.

She shook her head, then Dean turned to be face to face with her. He quickly stuffed the phone back in his pocket and completely ignored the fact that she more than likely just heard everything he had said, and instead asked, “Anything?”

She nodded, “I might have something, I'll explain back at the hotel.”

“Good,” he grumbled as they started making their way back towards Sam.

“So,” she began cautiously, “is Cas coming by?”

“I don't know, maybe.”

She nodded, pursing her lips before adding, “He should. It might be good for you to see him for a while.”

He stopped walking and looked at her for a second as she kept going, then he shook it off and changed the topic again, “We need to call the cops and report this, get a coroner here.”

The change in topic definitely did not go unnoticed by her, but she allowed it, for now. “Sam’s calling them, and I’ll get Vincent to gather everyone in the lobby.”

They made it back to Sam who was just finishing up with the police on the phone as she asked, “Do we know his name, any ID on him?”

“It's Erik.” She turned to Dean who still refused to look at the body. “His boyfriend’s downstairs looking for him.”

No words were said between them as they all knew this was a huge hit for Dean. He wouldn't admit it but there were a lot of factors to this particular piece of the puzzle that were too close to home for him.

Still not looking, he shook his head angrily and exclaimed, “We need to gank this bitch, now!” Then turned and walked away from them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

About ten minutes later the cops arrived, along with the coroner soon after that. Vincent had since gathered the rest of the players in the front lobby and informed them that due to unforeseen circumstances, the game was unfortunately ending. And with the promise of a red lobster gift card for every player, courtesy of Chuck, the small group left the building, except for two other boys who had been asked to stay behind.

The three stood back and watched as the police informed Erik’s boyfriend of his death, and as his heart shattered, Sera and Sam watched as Dean’s did too. They all thought back to the boy hanging from the roof, to how much he truly did look like Cas. This one was a little close to home, and they were all so exhausted from it already but clearly had more work to do.

“Hey, Sera.” She laid her head back against the wall and rolled it to the side to look at Sam. “How did you know to go to the third floor?”

She turned away from him for a moment and then pushed off from where she was leaning against the wall. Without a word she made her way back up to the second floor with the boys on her heels, both curious but neither voicing it, and followed her up.

When they stepped out of the elevator she turned down the small hidden hallway and knocked on the office door. “Amanda, it's Sera.”

The door opened a crack and Amanda peeked out. Upon seeing it was Sera and the boys, she opened the door and let them in. “Agents, what's going on? Who was that woman?”

Sera eyed Natasha who was off to the side doing homework again, then leaned in towards Amanda. “Another man was killed.” Amanda covered her mouth with a gasp as Sera continued, “That woman has something to do with it, we just aren't sure what yet. But she vanished before we could get to her.”

“Oh my god,” Amanda moved to sit in the chair behind her desk.

“I also need to take Natasha’s laptop.”

“Why?”

“While I was reading her story earlier some information popped up on her laptop that could be pertinent to the case,” she shifted her eyes to Natasha then said, “so I need to take it in for evidence.”

“Is… is Natasha in trouble?!”

“No, not at all,” Sera assured her, “in fact, Natasha more than likely had no idea that this information was on her laptop. But myself and these agents are going to do our best to find out how it got there and why, so we can stop this from ever happening here again.”

Amanda couldn't even say anything, she just nodded as she tried to hold the tears back.

Sera sighed, then turned away and headed towards Natasha, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Natasha, but I have to take your laptop for a few days.”

“Why?” She turned back to Sera, “I have to finish homework.”

“Myself and these two guys are federal agents, and we are currently investigating some pretty strange things,” she thought how best to say it without scaring the poor girl too much, “so we're just checking everyone's computers in the area. I promise I’ll bring it back. And if you don't get your homework finished on time I promise I'll talk to your teachers about it, alright?.”

“Alright,” she handed the laptop to Sera, “but you have to bring it back, I have school work on there, and my book!”

“I promise,” Sera held a hand up and Natasha nodded.

The three then said a quick thanks to Amanda and quietly left the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

A/N: I know its been a long time but here is the next chapter and more to come soon I promise, its already all finished! And I am so sorry this took so long! I mostly just write this series for myself but if there is someone else out there who likes it too, then I am always happy to share and hear your thoughts! XD <3

And if you or anyone else you know would wanna be tagged, just let me know!

Tags: @kitsunecastiel

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bluepluto03 · 4 years

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mcu spiderman rewrite/au i may or may not do

ok so first quick disclaimer! i do not hate the mcu spider man movies in any way!! i actually enjoy them quite a bit and have seen homecoming like 4 times! and i absolutely adore all the actors in the movies, especially tom, zendaya, and jacob

but the problem w/ the mcu spiderman movies is,,, they’re just not spiderman. at least from a writing/thematic perspective, which sucks bc so much other stuff about them is great! like tom holland is the perfect peter parker, which is why it seems so close to being right, but with the way the script is actually written... it’s just. not spider-man.

i feel the need to explain all this/my problems w/ the movies b4 i get into the actuall au idea/plot, so please bear with me for a sec

for context, I’ve loved spiderman my whole life. i’d watch the cartoons when i was younger, and then went back and watched them all again when i was a bit older and figured out how to pirate stuff lol. i didn’t really know how to get into the comics, so i just kinda read wikis and got second-hand info from fanfics and the other movies

to me, spiderman, (at least, peter parker spiderman,) was always about like... a kid, who saw the world was broken and fixed it because he could. he had the power to fix stuff, so he did.

as a kid w/ mental illness and a not so great home life... that was something really really important to me. to see another kid out there, who’s been through some shit, but finally has the power to make stuff better, so he is! and it would make me think, maybe i can change stuff for the better, someday, if i just get my chance

but,,,,, the problem is mcu peter parker isn’t that.

instead of becoming spiderman bc he knows there’s bad in the world and wants to fix it, suddenly his motivation is impressing tony stark?? and don’t get me wrong i don’t hate tony, but the way they wrote his and peter’s relationship basically trapped peter. he could no longer be his own hero, bc he was tony’s successor. and that's never who peter parker’s spiderman was?? he was never a follower, he was a trendsetter. he didn’t become spiderman for approval, hell he had dozens of newspapers constantly slandering him.

honestly the following in someone else’s footsteps thing was always a miles morales thing. he had to step up to the plate and fill the shoes of a spiderman who had already existed for years and was beloved by the whole city. obviously thats not all he is and simplifying his character to that is incredibly obtuse, but i bring it up bc tbh alot of stuff w/ mcu peter parker is just straight-up ripped off from miles morales. like how peter now goes to a fancy private school, is no longer poor (which is a huge thing w/ peter parker’s character in like every other incarnation), has a living father figure, and is bffs w/ ned, who is a straight-up rip off of miles’s best friend ganke. (for the record tho i adore ned and jacob i’m def keeping him in my rewrite,,,, also i’m glad he’s in the movie bc having a plus sized poc protagonist thats not constantly mocked is incredible)

so, i’m complaining about all this stuff lol but ur probably wondering how exactly how i wanna fix it lol,,,,

first, give peter an arc thats more than just..... i want tony to believe in me. my idea for that is basically a type of thing where he learns to rely on others! bc like... peter isn’t good at working w/ others lol, he’d much rather do it all himself so no one else gets hurt. (like in the andrew garfield movies where he just,,,, webs his gf to a car so she can’t run into danger lmao)

the plot would start at a similar ish position to homecoming, though tony never recruits peter for civil war. tbh not sure if it even happened but we’ll disscuss that later

peter’s been spiderman for a few months, after a trip to oscorp left him w/ a radioactive spider bite. currently no one knows about it, and he’s doing a pretty ok job of dealing w/ everything on his own. until he takes down a big bad, lets say rhino for now, and gains a ton of publicity. after stooping a hudge disaster he’s suddenly in the limelight, and catches the attention of one norman osborn, aka the green goblin

now, quick sidenote. green goblin is genreally seen as pretty goofy, but there are comic versions of him that are legit terrifying. if im being honest i didn’t even know about that version until i read aloneintherains fic birds eating other birds so ig thats kinda ish how i’m imagining this version of norman? though alot more composed, like the man who could someday turn into that

so norman becomes intrested in my boy peter, and starts sending ppl after him. possibly the sinister 6, but uhh maybe not bc tbh i think this “rewrite” needs to be split into 2 “movies”/works and i might wanna save that for the hypothetical pt2 (btw if i write this it won’t b for a while cause i got other stuff going on but ig if ppl are intrested i might write some snippits/make more content for it)

so basically the main plot is peter dealing w/ all these big bads on his own, doing ok at first but later getting really fucked up, and eventually revealing himself to ned and mj which ends up being the only way he can save the day in the end. by relying on others! yay!!

thats it for the main plot, but don’t worry y’all we got other stuff going on too lmao

so, for one. my boy peter is realizing he has a crush and just,,,, freaking tf out. (i have yet to decide if it’s on ned or mj. or both. sue me) the crush isn’t definitely resolved in p1, but i imagine there’d be some cute thing of him suddenly realizing and freaking out and almost revealing his powers.

thing 2! tony stark! he is still in here, and still a mentor to peter, but in a pretty drastically different way. one, he doesn't know about peter being spiderman. he doesn't even suspect it lmao. he just gets involved bc of.... some sort of reason bc peter is so smart. do i know why just yet? no. does it matter? probably but i’m writing this pretty late after i had school all day so i’m too tired to care

bc tony basically gives peter a real internship/mentorship type thing, peter now has access to all this tech!! and all these funds!! fucking lit!! so he changes from his pajama suit to the fancy one, tho he actually built it!! which i feel like him making his suit is a really big really important part of his character. so it doesn't really have all those random things tony added, tho peter might add stuff himself. he gets Karan as a like assistant ai as part of his internship but she never gets put into the suit

for the fist part tony plays a super minor role but like,,,, the first part is about osborn taking an intrest in him, and him confiding in ned and mj. the second part norman is become progressively more dangorus and peter has to fight him and stuff, kinda proving he is strong enough to be spiderman/be trusted to the whole world, beyond just ned and mj. also him actually getting together w/ either one or both of them bc...... bc i want that.

oh btw idk if tony finds out or not in p2? if he does it’s either at the end or in a scene like the one w/ may bc like. please imagine the shenanigans of peter and ned (who both have high intellegence but low wisdom) in tony’s lab, obviously trying to hide the fact that peter’s spiderman. like he walks in on them and peter looks all frumpy bc he’s been trying to change real fast, and ned’s shirt is messed up bc he just stuffed the mask down the front of it, and mj is just. chilling behing them. so tony just like assumes stuff and is like....aight.... have fun....

oh btw the last big change that i didn’t really have anyway to insert natrually into this,,,, so remember how i said ned was kinda a ripoff of ganke? well, the writers claim he’s a “composite character” so i figured, why not give him traits from other famous spiderman side character so he actually is a composite character!

so like,,,, throughout p1 it’s referenced that ned has a kinda dickish estranged ish dad that he hates and his mom doesn't really like but kinda forces him too... theres some mentions of his dad wanting him to transfer to a private school and being kinda rich, bur he dosen’t want to bc he knows his dad is a total dickead,,,, anyway end of the movie we find out norman osborn is ned’s dad, and ned hates him even fucking more bc it’s like bitch?? u tried to get my (maybe) bf murdered?? tf?? and its lowkey bc he can’t reveal peter’s id, but then in p2 after norman takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill peter on his own ned just fucking yells at him while the man is in jail and is like fuck u lmao

soooo thats my really messy au idea!! i’m really tired sorry if this is hard to understand or rude! for the record i have nothing against the ppl who adore these movie’s, i just think they could be better!

#spiderman #spider man homecoming #spiderman homecoming #peter parker #tony stark #michelle jones #ned leeds #parkerleeds #spideychelle #peter x mj x ned #marvel #pls rb i worked p hard on this #my post #my writing #norman osborn #green goblin #mcu spiderman

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team-free-will-oneshots · 5 years

Text

Sleepover (Friends Forever)

Title: Sleepover (Friends Forever) Summary: Jo Harvelle considers you one of her closest friends. Little does she know, your feelings for her go a lot deeper than just friendship. Based on ‘Sleepover’ by Hayley Kiyoko. Pairing: Jo Harvelle x Fem!Reader Warnings: light angst/pining, some swearing, ends with fluff Word Count: 2.7k

note; pride month may be over but i’m still gay. also this does not fit into the canon timeline at all, i realise that, just go with it pls lmao

Masterlist

“Hey, can you help me with my zip?” Jo asked, holding up her dress as she ducked her head into the room. Your head shot up, and you swallowed hard before nodding.

“Y-yeah, of course,” you said, forcing a smile to your face as you stepped into the bathroom where Jo was getting ready. Your brothers, Sam and Dean, were working a case against a particularly powerful warlock and needed someone to seduce him. As their little sister, they insisted that you were out of the question (despite your protests), but Jo was all too happy to volunteer - it gave her a chance to get out of the bar and finally get in some hunting, much to Ellen’s ire.

Such thoughts fled your mind as Jo turned around, sweeping her long hair away from her neck as she ducked her head. You rested a hand on her shoulder, your touch featherlight over her warm skin as you dragged up the zip with shaking fingertips. After clasping it, you stepped away like her touch burned you. And in a way, it did - Jo was like the sun. Bright, beautiful, and sure to cause you pain if you let yourself get too close. Of course, it might have been too late for that.

“Thanks,” she said, casting you a grin as she turned to the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. “Do y’reckon you could work some miracles with my hair, as well?” she asked. “I might know my way around a gun, but a curling iron? A little out of my league,” she remarked, and you laughed.

“Mine too,” you admitted. Not the only thing out of my league, your mind added wistfully, watching as Jo tossed her hair back over her shoulder, so carelessly beautiful you couldn’t help but stare. You lowered your gaze. “But I’ll try. Here, sit down,” you said, dragging a chair into the room that Jo promptly plopped herself onto. The curling wand was already heated, so you ran your fingers lightly through her long tresses, the gold strands spilling like silk through your fingertips. You ignored the warmth of her body as she leaned back against your waist, closing her eyes as your fingertips gently parted her hair.

“Feels nice,” she murmured, eyes falling closed and a contented smile gracing her features.

“It’s easier when the other party’s not struggling,” you said with a laugh, and her eyebrows creased in puzzled amusement.

“Sounds like there’s a story there,” she prompted, and you couldn’t bite back your grin as you curled a lock of her hair around the wand, holding it there for a moment before letting it fall down in a neat coil.

“Back when we were kids… Dean was off on a hunt with Dad, and I needed someone to play princesses with. Sam stepped up - but he didn’t realise that entailed a makeover, as well,” you said, smiling fondly at the memories as you picked up another section of hair. “I think he still has the scars.”

Jo laughed, a sound that made your heart leap along with the sparkle of delight in her eyes.

“I’d pay good money to see that,” she said.

“Wish I could help you out, but Sam burned all the pictures I took with my shitty little disposable camera,” you informed her, and she pouted playfully.

“Too bad,” she lamented. You nodded, letting the last piece of hair fall as you grabbed a hairbrush from the sink. Jo hummed as you ran it through her hair, and you ignored the way her smile made your heart race. Wasn’t it just your luck to have a crush on a straight girl?

Well, it wasn’t like the Winchesters, in general, had particularly good luck with women - you supposed you could’ve drawn a shorter straw than this.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Jo asked, raising an inquisitive brow and jolting you from your thoughts. You shook your head.

“N-nothing. There, all done,” you said, putting down the brush as you stepped back and squirted a fine mist of hair spray over your work. Jo half frowned, not convinced, but let it go as she got to her feet and ruffled her hair. Her frown was erased with a pleased grin.

“It looks great! Thanks!” she exclaimed, shooting you a cheeky smile that lit up her whole face and ignited a wave of swirling butterflies in your stomach. You cleared your throat, smiling back tamely as you tried to stop yourself from imagining those soft, smiling lips meeting yours.

Not gonna happen, you reminded yourself. She’s not interested. Stop it.

Her face fell, and she sent a stern look your way, folding her arms and leaning against the wall.

“Okay, come on. Something’s wrong. What is it?” she demanded, her voice taking on a hard edge. You laughed dryly.

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re being weird. Spill.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “It’s nothing - really. Just… feeling a bit alone, I guess,” you said vaguely, and Jo’s mouth curved into a sympathetic frown. She reached forward, her hand finding yours, warm and soft and firm as her fingers twined with your own.

“Well, you’re not. You’ve got me. Friends forever, right? Us girls gotta stick together,” she said, winking at you. An empty smile stretched over your face, contrary to the aching in your chest.

“Right. Friends forever,” you murmured. How were you supposed to explain that even when she held your hand, there was no erasing the blue feeling that had overtaken you? Every one of her smiles, her carefree laughs and affectionate touches had you wishing, longing for something she could never give you - how were you supposed to explain that to her without making her feel uncomfortable? You cared about her - god, you cared about her so much, and you couldn’t risk losing that - couldn’t risk ‘making it weird.’

“You ready?”

Dean’s voice rang from the bedroom, and Jo looped her arm with yours and dragged you in with her. Your brother whistled when he saw Jo, his eyes raking her up and down, and you fought back the urge to roll your eyes. She smirked, pulling away from you to twirl once for him. He raised his eyebrows, licking his lips once before shaking his head.

“Damn, Jo. You clean up nice,” he remarked stiffly, and she threw him a flirty wink that made your heart sink. Of course she was interested in your brother - that seemed to be just your luck. The cherry on top of the cake, as it were.

“I know,” she replied confidently, before spinning back to you with bright eyes. “C’mon, let’s go gank this son of a bitch,” she said, and you gulped, nodding nervously and snatching your gun from where you’d left it on the bed.

“Right. Let’s go.”

---

“Well, that was easy!” Jo exclaimed as the two of you stumbled back to her bedroom, exhausted and sticky with sweat and splatters of blood. You chuckled, kicking off your boots and peeling off your socks as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“I’ll say - did you see his face when you pulled that knife on him? I’ve never seen a guy so torn between panic and arousal,” you snickered, and she beamed.

“Damn right,” she said brightly. “But did you see yourself in there? I think I had some competition,” she teased, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yeah, right. Too bad for him, I don’t play for his team,” you said with a laugh, before freezing as you realised exactly what words had fled your adrenaline-fuelled mouth. She paused, and you could see her mind racing behind her eyes as she quirked an interested eyebrow.

“R-really?” she asked, voice soft, teeth tugging on her lower lip as she appraised you thoughtfully. You kicked yourself.

Fuck, your brain hissed. Fuck fuck fuck - you made it weird, right on, Y/N. Look at how she’s looking at you! You done fucked up!

You smiled nervously. “I- um- I mean-” You sighed - there was no use trying to cover it up, now. “Well, yeah. That’s… is that okay?” Your voice was timid, and it seemed to snap her from her thoughts.

“Yeah, of course!” she was quick to assure you. “You’re still Y/N - friends forever and all that, right?” she said, tone a little too bright to be genuine. You felt a pit in your stomach, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Friends forever,” you mumbled. “Look, um… can you not mention it to Sam and Dean just yet? I haven’t really told them, and…”

Jo’s all-too-bright smile fell into one of empathy, and she stepped forward to touch your shoulder, fingertips lingering a little too long on your arm as she ran her hand soothingly down its side. Her touch sent shivers down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin, and you were grateful for the long-sleeved flannel that hid your reaction to her caress.

“I get it,” she said quietly, and there was a raw, turbulent sincerity in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place. She cleared her throat, ducking her head and shaking it once before her eyes met yours again, composed and steady. “I won’t mention it.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, and the two of you held eye contact, caught in a lingering moment of peace and familiarity that seemed to belong only to the both of you. You were lost in her eyes, wide and warm, only accentuated by the smudge of black eyeliner beneath them. She’d sweat off most of the makeup she’d been wearing for the case, leaving only a hint of smeared red lipstick fading from her lips and the faint, glittery sheen of highlight on her cheekbones, blending into the sweat that had her hair clinging to her temples.

She was beautiful.

You were startled out of your reverie when you heard a rapping at Jo’s bedroom door, and the two of you quickly drew away. Jo crossed her arms defensively, sighing, before responding;

“Come in!” she called, voice laced with irritation. The door swung open to reveal Sam, whose eyes sought yours.

“Sorry. Y/N, Dean and I are ready to head off when you are,” he declared, and you sighed.

“Just let me shower first,” you muttered, but Jo was quick to interject.

“Why don’t you stay here the night? There’s plenty of room, no need to rush off right away,” Jo protested, before shooting you a sly smile. “Besides, Y/N and I have plenty of catching up to do.”

Sam shrugged. “Sounds good to me - I’ll let Dean know,” he said, smiling once before turning away and letting the door fall shut behind him. As you heard his footsteps fade, Jo looked to you.

“Well, I dunno about you, but I’m ready for a shower,” she declared.

“Dibs next,” you replied, a smile stretching over your face. “Should I go find an air mattress or something while you’re busy?”

She scoffed. “Why would you need that? My bed’s plenty big for both of us. Watch out, though - I hog the covers,” she said, winking before walking into the bathroom, the door swinging shut in time with the sway of her hips. You blinked. She wasn’t… she wasn’t flirting with you, was she?

You quickly shook the thought away. No - impossible. You were reading too deeply into things. There was no way she… not after she’d looked at Dean like that… no. She wasn’t flirting - just being friendly, you thought decisively, settling back onto the bed and scrolling through your phone as you waited.

---

By the time you’d both cleaned up, you were all but dead on your feet - as easy as it might have been, a hunt was a hunt - exhausting. You stumbled to the bed with leaden feet, running your fingers through your damp hair as you collapsed next to Jo, sliding under the covers and swallowing back the butterflies as Jo curled in close to you, her body heat quickly warming you up far more effectively than the steam of the shower. You felt nervous sweat prickle on the back of your neck as her legs wound with yours, bare skin on bare skin.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a sleepover,” she mused, and you laughed.

“Me neither,” you whispered, voices soft in the darkness cloaking the room. “What do people even talk about?”

She shrugged, chewing her lower lip as she considered. A mischievous grin crossed her face, and she nudged you playfully. “I know. Who do you have a crush on?” she asked in a teasing, sing-song voice. You rolled your eyes, hoping to cover up the panic that had flared in your chest at the question.

“Me? I think I should be asking you,” you countered, giving her a knowing smile and fighting to keep your voice even. Her brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

You raised an inquiring eyebrow. “I saw the looks between you and Dean. What’s going on there?” you asked, forcing yourself to keep your tone casual. Jo stared at you for a moment, before the comfortable silence was broken by the loud peals of her laughter.

“You- you think I like Dean?” she demanded. “No no no no no, I mean, we flirt sometimes, but- it’s nothing like that,” she chuckled. “There is a certain Winchester I happen to like a great deal, though,” she said, a shy smile spreading over her lips. Your brows shot your hairline.

“Sam? Really?” you asked in surprise, and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. You made a face. “My dad?”

She slapped you playfully. “No, you idiot!” she said in exasperation. You looked at her expectantly.

“What? Then… who?” you asked, overwhelmed in your cluelessness. She rolled her eyes, but her playful demeanour turned tentative and nervous as she prolonged her silence. You saw her swallow, pressing her lips together as her fingers nervously fiddled with the bedsheet. The springs creaked as she shifted closer, the two of you almost chest to chest when she finally raised her gaze.

“Take a guess,” she whispered, before leaning forward to seal her lips to yours.

You froze against her mouth, and she drew back anxiously, but as soon as her lips left your own you were leaning forward to catch them again. She smiled into the kiss, her mouth soft on yours, tasting of mint toothpaste as your hand found her waist over the thin cotton fabric of her sleep shirt. Jo hummed pleasantly, her hand moving to rest on your cheek and her thumb smoothing over your skin as her tongue found yours, playing a teasing game of touch-and-go that had your heart racing and your hands shaking as you lost yourself in the taste of her, in the soft press of her body against yours. You could smell the apple scent of her shampoo, the freshly laundered smell of her clothes as she ran her hand down from your cheek to find a home at your neck, sneaking around to thread through your hair as she tilted your chin back so she could move her lips to your jaw, kissing down your throat…

Pulling back breathlessly, you exchanged astonished smiles as your chest quickly rose and fell, desperate for the air it had been deprived of during your sweet kiss.

“I-I thought you were straight,” you managed to gasp, and Jo’s face twisted in amusement.

“Did that seem straight to you?” she teased, raising your hand to her lips and grazing a kiss over your knuckles. “‘Sides, I thought you were straight.”

You snorted, and she grinned, her hand moving down to rest on your hip as she leaned in and rested her forehead against yours. Although the two of you were blanketed in the night, the room felt the furthest thing from dark - Jo still shone like the sun, her touch burning and her eyes gleaming bright with passion as they found yours.

“What happened to friends forever?” you breathed, and Jo smirked.

“I can think of something better,” she whispered, before surging forward to kiss you.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @kina666 @liviaolivia @simplyxparker @helpmeluci @demonsofhunting @bee-happy-buzz-on @lilulo-12

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phantomwarrior12 · 5 years

Text

Save It For The Living

Prompt: Save It For the Living by Smash Into Pieces

Words: 1,542

Warnings: Swearing, reader death, a shit ton of angst

Summary: The ones we love the most are the hardest to let go.

A/N: Hey folks!

Two fics inside of two weeks, that’s gotta be some kind of a record for me. xD Anyway, here, have some straight angst.

Please leave a like/comment to let me know your thoughts!

Enjoy!

~ Phantom

-------------------

Wish I could see you happy

Get on with your life without me

Think of me as something beautiful

Not the bitter end

I'm the reason why you're feeling life is broken

So hear me

I don’t want your love

Save it for the living

--------------------

"Damn it, Y/N, hold on!" Gabriel scrambles for the archangel blade, fear gripping hold and he can see the blood seeping from your wound.

"Aw, you still have a soft spot for that particular mistake?"

"Shut up, Lucifer!" He blasts his older brother back a few feet and it grants him enough space to retrieve the blade.

"Whatcha gonna do, baby bro? Fight me or save the girlfriend? Man, that gaping hole in her side really doesn't look good." The Devil taunts, peering at you with something akin to amusement.

"Go to hell." You choke out, applying pressure to your stab wound.

"I run hell, sweetheart. I've been there more than enough times."

Gabriel steals a glance over his shoulder at you, concern etched into every inch of his features.

"I'm okay. Kill the bastard." You assure him with more confidence than you have.

"Hang in there, Y/N." He gives you a short nod, focusing his attention on his older brother.

"Oh, come on, Gabriel. This is pointless. You know I'm going to win, baby bro. Might as well throw in the towel and try and save your whore."

"My whore can take care of herself. You, on the other hand, are going to wish you had someone watching out for your soon to be very dead ass." Gabriel twirls his blade, circling with Lucifer.

"Call me a whore again and I'm going to gank you both." You bite back, managing to prop yourself up on one elbow.

"Sorry, sugar." Gabriel apologizes, a playful lilt in his voice, his gaze never leaving his big brother.

"You should be," your eyes skim the surrounding room, no doubt hoping for cover if too much grace is thrown around.

"You know, with Sam and Dean both upstairs, you won't have the Winchesters swooping in to save the day. Little Cassie is trapped in the Empty, and Jack, well, without his grace, he ended up just like those sorry excuses for surrogate fathers, in the ground. When I kill you, you'll stay that way."

"You overestimate your abilities, Lucifer. You may have taught me everything I know, but you've never been the better trickster."

Lucifer's eyes widen for a moment, spinning just in time for the real Gabriel to bury the blade in his chest.

"That is for trying to kill me, you dick." He twists the hilt of the archangel blade and the light behind Lucifer's eyes flares in a show of brilliant white and blue and fades. Gabriel lets him drop to the floor, the shadows of his wings painting the floor beneath him as Gabriel steps over and rushes to your side.

"Y/N--"

"I'm still breathing, feathers, calm down." You assure him, wincing as you try to sit up.

"Don't try to move," he kneels beside you, concern bleeding through whiskey as he assesses the extensive damage, "Hold still," he reaches for you, surprised when you stop him.

"Don't."

"Sugar, you're dying. I need to heal you," he argues, confusion replacing concern.

"I'm done."

"What?" He stares down at you in disbelief, "What do you mean done?"

"I don't want you to heal me, Gabriel."

"You're not making any sense--"

Your features soften, "It's time to let me go, feathers."

"No, you're disoriented, let me help--"

"Gabriel," you interrupt sharply, taking his hand in yours, trembling fingers entwining with his, "Please, just hold me."

The archangel starts to protest, cutting himself short only after his eyes find yours. He isn't sure he knows how to breathe beneath the weight of your request, the silent plea in your eyes that he prays you don't mean suffocating any glimmer of hope. It feels as though an eternity has passed before he relents, shoulders sagging in defeat before he gathers you into his arms, agony lacing his voice as he speaks, "All right, sugar. You win."

Golden hues flare when his hands smooth over your skin, a firm, yet delicate hold as he cradles his favorite soul. Once, it was calming--borderline reassuring--to watch the burning embers ignite beneath his touch, almost as if the flames are fed by his proximity. He was never sure you were aware of it, if the racing of your heart and the crimson in your cheeks told you exactly how you felt, just as it told him. The archangel almost wishes he could've shown you how brightly your soul glowed when he touched you, when his grace merely whispered across your skin from the other side of a room, when his wings wound affectionately around your frame when you dozed off on the couch with a lore book draped haphazardly against your torso.

He wishes you could've seen the world as he does, seen the electric sparks in all living things, the glimmering lights beneath flesh as ordinary people do ordinary things. It's a beauty to behold, but, most of all, he wishes you could've seen his true form in all its glory. He wishes he could'vs shown you the golden feathers that line his wings, the celestial behind the vessel, the being that has fallen, irreversibly, in love with you.

Yet, now, with your soul flickering, wavering, fighting to stay alive, or to let go, he aches for a time before the joy left your eyes. A time when you were surrounded by friends--Sam, Dean, Castiel, Jack, Bobby--your family. When they finally passed, when the archangel was all you had left, he was forced to watch, in agony, as you slowly lost interest in the life the two of you had fought so hard for.

You missed them, more than anything in the world, you missed the people who had made life worth the fight. Lucifer may have dealt the final blow, but you had died, with them, years ago. He can see that now. His ability to keep you young, to keep you at his side--it was a curse more so than a blessing.

"Sugar--Y/N," his voice cracks, his hand pressing against the gaping wound in your side as he fights back tears.

"It's okay. I'm ready, Gabe," you offer a weak smile, the pad of your thumb brushing over his cheek and he inclines his head into your touch.

"I'm not. I know it's selfish--please, let me heal you."

There's a tenderness in your gaze, the shattered shards of your heart aching for him, "No. I've surpassed my lifetime, I've--" a cough tears through your frame and Gabriel tightens his hold around you, grace seeping beneath skin to ease the discomfort.

"Please, don't ask me to let you go." He leans his forehead against yours after you regain your breath.

"That's exactly what I have to ask of you, Gabriel. It's been a good life, one that most can only dream of. Not many can say they spent the better part of fifty years with an archangel that was willing to smite hoards of demons to rescue his wife from hell."

A small smile spreads tugs at the corner of his lips and he swears he can feel the relief rolling off you like waves, "I told you, the title was only technical. Angels don't have wives, we have soulmates."

A coarse laugh, more of a hollow wheeze, fills the quiet room, "You really wanna argue 'bout that now?"

"Hey, it's my last chance to prove you wrong." The smile flourishes across his features and he can read the telltale signs of amusement in your eyes.

"Always have to have the last word, don't you, feathers?"

His heart soars at the nickname, pounding in his chest as he swallows the lump building in his throat, voice faltering as he speaks, "You know me, there's a reason they call me Mr. Right."

His gaze darts down towards your chest, the spark of your soul fading, the thrum of your heart failing and he sets his jaw. He can feel your eyes on him, staring up at him with concern and he summons all the strength he has left to force the agony from his gaze.

"You'll be okay without me," you promise, "I'm just upstairs. You can visit, Gabe."

"I know, I'll just miss you, sugar." He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, tears slipping silently down his cheeks.

"I'll miss you, too." Your eyes lock with his, "Always remember, Gabriel, I love you."

"I love you, too, Y/N."

There's a shadow of a smile in your lips before your chest falls for the last time, y/e/c falling shut as your head sags against his shoulder.

It takes a moment and Gabriel crumbles, his frame curling around yours, wings encircling his trembling form as the tears fall freely. He isn't sure how long he holds you, but, at last, he picks you up, carrying you from the abandoned church.

He gives you a hunter's funeral. He knows what it means and he knows he'll never be able to bring you back, but it's what you wanted. So, he stands just beyond the pyre, flames dancing before whiskey orbs as the hole in his chest crumbles into a chasm.

He's on his own, once again and he hates it, but, he'll carry on. For you.

"Goodbye, sugar."

---------------------

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roadsofar2020 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10: The Road Continues. . .

Jared and Jensen rhythmically raced back to the crossroads and, much to their mutual surprise, declared in harmonic unison, "We're ready." They turned their heads toward each other exchanging knowing glances. Returning to the task before them, Jared stated, "According to the script, we summon the thing and then get it to walk into a devil's trap." Jensen instinctively shook his head, "if this thing knows anything about the show, it will know that that is the basic plot to 'Crossroad Blues.' We don't stand a chance if we do that." His brown eyes gleaming with determination, Jared mused, "why don't we catch the demon off guard and send it back to Hell." Jensen put his hand momentarily on Jared's chest to prevent him from hastily implementing his quickly thought out plan. With a wrinkled nose and a raised eyebrow, Jensen stated in a bemused tone, "Hold on there, Walker Texas Ranger! What do you plan to do, karate chop it? Shouldn't you, I dunno, do some research first?”

Raising his eyebrow back at Jensen and cocking his head to the side causing a piece of hair to fall in front of his eye, Jared quipped, "You got a better idea?" Jensen nodded his head as he decisively described his plan, "We sneak over there in the shadows and then gank the mother!" Jared shook his head–"Aaaaaah–" he sighed, unamused, "how is that not exactly what I just said?" Jensen squinted his eyes and clumsily, but with hearty dose of charm, began to explain, "Yeah, but my plan has more of a–a" Jensen scratched the back of his head as the decrescendo in his voice made clear he knew he had backed himself into a corner, "has more of a hunter vibe to it." He added hand gestures and a wink for good measure, trying to rest the reliability of the tail end of his sentence solely on his charisma. Growing inpatient, Jared forcefully brushed his chestnut locks from his eye with an open palm as he pointed out the obvious with a twist of humor, "You know there are no cameras around, Dean ! You don't have to act like that!" In an irritated tone that sounded forced as if he were trying to hide a laugh, Jensen pointed his finger at Jared and raised his voice, "Well at least I'm not all–" with an exaggerated motion pushed back his short hair and continued, "with my hair while there is an apocalypse, or whatever, going on!"

Castiel positioned himself in the middle of the two, stretching his arms out to create an illusion of physical distance while he calmly interjected, "Do not take out your fear on each other. You can have your brotherly spats later after this is all done." As he spoke, Castiel glanced at the fully risen moon with earnest concern. They mutually felt the weighty truth of Castiel's statement and exchanged apologetic glances coupled with a smirk, which demonstrated to observant onlookers that they not only were mutually amused by their momentary distraction, but they knew that, whatever plan they chose to implement, they would prevail because they had each other's back. As the clock inched closer to the fateful hour, the two brothers began the familiar dance of working together to summon the crossroads demon. After completing the ritual, something clicked. Their fear subsided and they felt an intense feeling of belonging, as if they were destined to be in this place on this night. They firmly planted their feet on the ground and stood back to back, keeping a watchful eye.

From the nearby shadows echoed a tauntingly sultry voice, "What, you boys forgot to wear plaid for me?" Jared tugged on his shirt, hoping to buy time to think of a makeshift plan with a loveable awkward pause, and staring down at his shirt he muttered, "Hey, I like what I'm wearing!" Jared's purposeful distraction gave Jensen time to realize that he had recognized the voice, "Meg, is that you, or should I call you–" The voice responded, "Meg is fine. Yes, Kripke I had to rescue you and your sad puppy dog eyes." Kripke inched backward with an audible scraping noise, and his shoe dragged against the ground. Castiel held Kripke's shoulders and whispered, "I've got you."

"And you brought Castiel, I will get to you later," Meg laughed with a hint of innuendo. Castiel stood next to Kripke, the sweat on Kripke's brow and trembling hands made clear that this was the demon with whom he had made his deal. Jared and Jensen slid into the shadows, taking a quick route to Meg now that she was distracted by Castiel's disarming disposition. "As much fun as this whole thing is, everyone just . . . stop. I can see yoouu , nice try!" Meg cooed. Jared demanded, "You have to let him out of the deal!" Meg retorted, "Or, what?" Jensen chimed in and pointed at his temples, "Or we will send you back to Hell. I've got the incantation up here." Meg, still hidden by the shadows, replied, "Oh, boys, I thought you were smarter than that. Sending me to Hell won't stop the hellhounds from having your friend for dinner."

Out of options, Jared and Jensen stood around Kripke trying to protect him. They were willing to risk their safety by attempting to kill the hellhounds one at a time, if necessary. Meg was moved by the intensity of their love and stated in a noticeably sweeter voice, "Kripke was willing to sacrifice himself for you, and now you two are willing to do the same in return. It's so Sam and Dean of you both.” Jared and Jensen stood, poised and ready to fight, as Meg further explained, "Kripke, I saw how much you care about the show and these boys, and I knew you wouldn't give up until you thought you made a deal. But, I couldn't let you make a crossroads deal, so I intervened." At this point, Meg revealed herself from the shadows. Jared, Jensen, Kripke, and Castiel were all mutually taken aback as a noticeable silence fell over the crossroads. The wind ceased and the yellow-hued flowers that lined the outer edges of the crossroads bowed in her presence as she, with ballerina like grace, sat regally on her unicorn Clarence as she glided to the center of the crossroads. Everyone was speechless as Meg, with a genuine smile on her face, revealed her true identity, "I am an angel and I believe that inner weirdness is something we all should embrace. I'm sorry I had to instill such worry in everyone, but I had to keep my true nature secret so that you two could realize for yourselves that you are heroes, just like each and every one of us is in our own unique way."

Kripke breathed a sigh of relief, "You could have told me sooner!" Meg retorted, "And where would be the fun in that be? But now Jared and Jensen know what they are capable of, there is something I must tell you all. The dream demons have made alliances with other supernatural beings and collectively they are determined to come after the two hunters at the center of it all. But their plan does not stop there. And this is what I needed you to be ready to hear tonight. They are planning to seek vengeance on the fans of the show." Jensen exchanged a fearful glace with Jared before suggesting, "Can't we just enjoy this win for a moment?" Jared turned to Jensen and, weary from the magnitude of the day's events, they instinctively headed back to the Impala.

As the boys rested their backs against Baby, their faces maintained stoic expressions, but their blood raced with a storm of adrenaline. They desired a contemplative conversation of what had just happened and how everything has changed, but those words remained unspoken as they found more comfort in the silent simplicity of their shared reality. Jensen reached into the trunk of the Impala and pulled out two dark brown glass bottles. "Beer?” he asked holding a bottle to Jared's chest.

"Good thing you hid some real ones in there," Jared responded while grabbing a bottle by the neck and effortlessly twisting off the cap. As they stood side by side staring ahead at the grassy field that swayed with each breath of the crisp night air, every wordless sip bonded them closer to each other and to the road ahead.

"Do you think Crowley is really the King of Hell?" Jensen questioned breaking the silence. Trying to disguise the apparent fear in his voice, while his eyes involuntarily rolled in a reactionary moose-like fashion, Jared laughed "God, I hope not!" With a devil-may-care grin on his face, Jensen mused, "All of this for a song, a freakin' awesome song, but a song. Seriously?" In a heartfelt tone, Jared clarified, "Not for a song, for a fandom, for a family . We are part of the best fandom in the world, and they need us ." After a few moments, Jared's fear dissipated and a smile took up residence on his face. The expression might have seemed somewhat out of character for Sam, but Jared was not about to cast aside the beauty of his innate childlike sense of wonder no matter how far this road would take him and Jensen from their former reality. With full knowledge of both the irony and the weight of his decision, Jared grabbed hold of the trunk of the Impala and closed it with a definitive slam. With complete acceptance that the road so far has no end, he boldly looked Jensen in the eyes while declaring with passion and without a hint of regret, "We've got work to do."

To Be Continued (Forever). . .

#spnfamily #spn cast #SPN Supernatural SamAndDean TVshows Fantasy

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huntertales · 5 years

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Part Three: Burn, Witch, Burn. (Man’s Best Friend With Benefits S08E15)

Episode Summary: A police offer, who turned to witchcraft after working a case with Sam and Dean, is plagued with nightmares in which he murders innocent people. It’s up to the Winchesters and the reader to find out of if someone is controlling him, or he’s the one doing the killings himself. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader. Word Count: 5,602.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It wasn't ideal what you were about to do, and while you would rather end this with the sight of James on the prowl for another human life—at least to have some kind of evidence to know he was the one responsible. You knew it was too much of a risk for him to see another day. The blood on his shirt that matched the latest victim was enough to convince anyone he was a guilty man. What you needed to do in order to take someone down like James was a Molotov cocktail of all sorts of different ingredients the boys went around town looking for. All you had to do was lit the cloth you stuck in the neck of the bottle and throw it at your target, who was unable to fight back. People who hunted witches back in the seventeenth century had something going with burning those accused of witchcraft at the stake. Burn, witch, burn.

Even though you knew James was good as guilty, you still felt a little morbid for what you and the boys were about to do. James genuinely seemed like the type of person who wanted to help people, and got into this sort of lifestyle because it made his job as a cop easier. And there was nothing worse than an unsolved problem. But there was always consequences to his actions. He was getting himself involved with something that was dangerous. His motives might have started out as helping people, than it was getting job promotions he would never be qualified for years. Greed breeds contempt. And James was on his way there.

You needed to stop him before whatever was making him kill innocent people took control and hunted for more victims. The three of you went to his house in the middle of the night, where you were sure he'd be asleep. Having to look someone in the eye from what you were about to do was going to give you nightmares for a while. Even though you knew he was to blame for the deaths of four people, you were still human with a conscious a little too big for your own good.

Getting into the house was the easy part, all you needed to do was pick the lock and sneak yourself in without making a noise. You would think James being a cop he'd invest some money in a decent alarm system. His downfall. You knew a layout of the place from when you were here earlier today. You followed behind the boys and to the bedroom where you left James hours ago. Dean was the one who holding the bottle and quietly took out the lighter from his pocket. Right when he flicked it, causing a small flame to ignite, he was ready to get started on this plan—until an unlikely person came to his rescue. The sliding doors to the bathroom opened by Portia, and she stopped you before you could kill an innocent man.

You were set on the idea that James was the only one responsible for the killings from the bloody shirt you found on his shirt and the lack of proof a witch could manipulate someone else to do their bidding. Portia, however, still kept to her beliefs that the man she loved wasn't responsible for his actions. And her reasons for believe so wasn't what you expected to hear. But you were willing to give her a lending ear to see what she had to say.

"James and I were close, without psychological walls," Portia explained her relationship with the man, in terms that made you confused as to how it worked. And a little uncomfortable from the thought that crossed your mind. You didn’t see this one coming. "Intimate."

Dean, always being the one with a dirty mind, was the one who fell short from what she was trying to say without saying it straight out. "I don't—”

"Really?" You asked the man. He seemed in the dark from the confused expression on his face. You let out a sigh and told him the truth Portia was sugar coating. "They had sex."

"Wow." Dean managed to speak a word after spending a few seconds making his attempt at hiding his surprised reaction you could read all over his face. He chuckled to himself while trying to process what was going on here to the best of his ability. "I, uh—I didn't expect that."

“We have an unusual relationship.” Portia admitted. “Familiars aren’t supposed to be sexually involved with their witches.”

"Understandable, you know, considering that you're a....well, and that he's...That's," Dean's lips stretched into an awkward smile when he let out another chuckle, trying to come up with why all of this felt weird. Your face scrunched up from how his brain was trying to figure out what their private life was like, considering Portia was a woman of many forms. He looked over at his brother for him to throw the man a bone and get him out of this one before things could get weird, Sam shook his head, wanting to be away from this far as possible. Dean nervously swallowed and turned his gaze onto you. "A little help here?"

"Yeah. Here's some advice: Shut up." You told the man, placing a hand on his arm to pretend like you were shushing him, instead your fingers wrapped around it, squeezing him hard enough to see the man physically flich at the pressure. You looked back over to Portia and gave her a smile, trying your hardest to get this conversation back on track. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"James and I—we hadn't made love in weeks. His agony ate him up, and he shut me out." Portia said. It sounded like what someone with a guilty conscious would do, and someone who was seeing all sorts of crazy things that was making them scared. You listened to more of what she had to say, curious as to where this was going. "But tonight, I saw his thoughts—-memories of the murders."

“I’m sorry, is this you trying to talk us out of ganking James or—” Dean said, not sure where the woman was trying to say in order to defend the man she loved. It only added more to the guilty plea he had come to the conclusion to. Portia cut him off, knowing it wasn’t that easy.

"Dean, that's all I saw—just the kills." Portia said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the new information that was starting to shed some light on things, and making you think twice at what you were about to do a few minutes ago. "No preparation, no thought process, no anticipation, no motive. Just the kills without context."

“No other awareness of the crimes?” Sam asked.

“No.” Portia answered. “Doesn’t that at least suggest he’s under another’s control?”

“Spencer said that wasn’t possible.” Dean reminded the woman.

"Actually," You were the one who came to James' defense by correcting the older Winchester about what you heard the other man say. "He said he'd never heard of it. Doesn't mean there's not something out there suggesting otherwise."

Portia looked defeated and worried out of her mind from the evidence that was making the man she loved look guilty. Much as it seemed like James was responsible for all of this, there was something that was making her think otherwise. And she was doing everything she could to get the three of you to change your mind about killing the man tonight, and letting him live a little longer to check out this one last lead she had to go with to clear his name. "James is chained. He's confined. At least take a shot."

You always liked to give people the benefit of the doubt and leave no stone unturned before making your final decision. There was something in your gut telling you that not everything was what it seemed. And maybe you felt yourself being convinced from Portia’s pleading, almost puppy dog-like eyes. You looked over at the boys, wondering what their decision was going to be. Sam seemed on board with giving it one last chance, and Dean's quiet sigh was enough for you to know that he was on board as well.

+ + +

Later into the day, when the sun had risen and you gotten a few hours of sleep to ready yourself for the events you had ahead, you and Dean met up with Portia to talk to someone who might help you figure out what was going on. Meanwhile, Sam tracked down was back on his way to the police department, hopeful he might be able to find something the cops overlooked that could pinpoint another person to blame for this. So far you hadn't heard a single peep or joke from Dean about learning of Portia and James' intimate relationship, not that he didn't try. You learned a few tricks to get him to keep his lips sealed shut. Subtle threats and angry glares worked like a charm every time.

The three of you were supposed to meet James' contact in a disclosed place that ended up being an empty warehouse, a little sketchy for your personal liking. You stepped out from the passenger side of the Impala and looked around the place, noticing that you were the first ones here. You crossed your arms over your chest after slamming the door shut and approaching Portia after she got herself out from the back.

“So, this Warlock we’re meeting,” You said. “I’m guessing you’d call him a snitch?”

"Cops have snitches all over town.” Portia said. “James uses Drexyl when he suspects some in the community."

And he was coming in handy for you to figure out if Spencer was lying straight through his teeth about this supposed spell, or if there was something brewing in the group. You leaned yourself against the trunk of the Impala and waited for whoever was supposed to show up, a silence falling over the three of you. Dean had been pretty quiet all through out the ride, making you believe he was going to be on his best behavior. However...a curious mind like his needed answers. You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back your head when you heard him speak, about something you warned him about bringing up.

“I gotta ask.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes and looked over at the man, knowing exactly what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. “I can’t help but wonder—”

“Which came first, dog or girl?” Portia guessed the man’s question.

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean,” Dean said, pretending he was trying to approach this with more kind of a sincere touch to make it seem like he wanted to know more about her personally. “I'm just curious as to which one you consider yourself, mostly.”

Portia narrowed your eyes on the man after having a strange feeling what his true motives were really all about. "This have anything to do with what I told you about James and me last night? How you're imagining it?"

"What? No, that's..." Dean nervously chuckled as he tried his hardest to come up with some excuse on the top of his head to explain why he was so interested in such personal details. You looked over at Portia and nodded your head to answer her question, making the both of you exchange smiles of amusement, and causing the man to feel awkward. "What? I'm curious."

And so much more. It was your turn to chuckle at his reaction and let the conversation drift off for another time when you saw a two-door car looking like it belonged it the seventies driving up to where the three of you were. You pushed yourself back up to your feet and watched as whom you were presuming was Drexyl step out of his car, heading forward to meet all of you. Portia attempted to introduce the both of you to the man, but it seemed word spread around fast about you. You didn't like this community, they were awfully rude to newcomers. Even if you were pretending to be one of them to kill their own kind, hospitality went a long way.

“So, here’s the deal,” Drexyl said. He got straight to the reason why all of you were here in the first place, it seemed he didn’t like to waste time on small talk. “absolutely no word on the street about any witch hexing another one.”

“You sure there’s not any kind of spell?’ Dean asked.

"Look, Detroit, I pride myself on reliable sourcing. There is, however, a lot of chatter about our James. He's gone ripper." Drexyl might not be the nicest person you met, but he didn't disappoint about gossip. You spoke up, wondering if they were talking about the infamous serial killer dubbed as Jack the Ripper, he answered you by nodding his head. "Someone's circulating the rumor that he's set at full kill.”

“‘Someone’?” Portia repeated the man. “One of us?”

"If the cops get wind of it, arrest James, find out what he really is, that exposes the rest of us. You know that can't happen." Drexyl said. You gave him a curious look, wondering exactly what he meant by that. "They're gonna give James two choices—leave or the full hara-kiri."

"Exile or suicide?" You asked. "Don't you think one a little more extreme than the other?"

"Witches appreciate a grand gesture." Drexyl said. You scoffed underneath your breath from the gross understatement about his kind.

“I won’t let him do that.” Portia said in a sharp tone.

“Well,” Drexyl warned her. “the community might do it for him.”

You watched as the man who was always helpful to James turn his back on Portia and made his way back to his car, seeming pretty convinced himself that the cop wasn't an innocent bystander if it meant his ass was covered. One way to get away with murder was to blame someone else for it. All though you couldn't find any connection to the victims that tied them together and to James, you had a feeling their deaths might have been for a greater reason other than to make it seem like he was going dark side. If you weren't convinced there was something going on here, you were now. Drexyl wasn’t the only one who prided themselves on their research.

+ + +

You didn't waste any time jumping straight into research to see if you could find anything that might clear James' name and pin this on who the responsible one here. You thought it was going to be a one man job while Sam was still at the station. Dean surprised you by pitching in, helping you sort through Bobby's endless notes to see if the old man knew anything about the ability to control another person. While you worked through the journal and Dean looked over some scattered notes, he nursed himself a glass of whiskey after taking up the offer by Portia while the both of you worked. You settled on a glass of water.

You worked for a little while in silence, every so often discussing what you were supposed to be looking for, before you found the closest thing you were searching. It wasn't what you were set out on finding, but it made hell of a lot more sense from what you were originally thinking. Sam arrived back at James' place a little while later dressed in his usual clothing after heading back to the motel to change and see if you were there. You greeted the man with a quick exchange of words before going back to your research, gathering the good news.

"So, Dean and I have been going over Bobby's data." You said. Sam took a seat on the empty armchair that was across from the couch you and his brother were occupying. "Portia might not be wrong. Turns out there is a spell for implanting images into another person's brain."

"Really?" Sam asked with curiosity.

"Yeah. Uh," You leaned over and grabbed the piece of paper from the coffee table and read off the information you found. "'Creating false memories in a witch's brain.'"

"Wow. So James could be convinced he killed those people without even touching them." Sam chuckled to himself about how terrible, and brilliant the plan was for someone to go through a lot of effort to get away with murder. "So, then, maybe it is someone else."

"Yeah. Who's going through a hell of a lot of trouble to make it look like James." Dean said. The only reason you could think of for someone to do such a thing was simply because they had a grudge against the man. Something so bad to the point they were willing to murder people and put the blame on him to take him down. And make the community exile him with no remorse. Or, put an end to his madness once and for all. "What'd the cops say?"

"Here's the thing. According to Ed Stoltz, they got zip, but they got something." Sam said. You raised your brow in curiosity, wondering what kind of information that were withholding from an FBI agent that was poking his nose where it didn’t belong. "I saw the tech guy who's working the case, and he had a huge filer folder marked 'James Frampton.'"

"You're kidding." You mumbled in disbelief. "Ed didn't mention that."

"No, he did no." Sam agreed with you. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how things were turning out for all of you. It was never just one thing. Sam pushed himself up to his feet, thinking the next logical step was to talk to James and catch him up with everything. He made it all of three steps before turning himself around, needing to mention how well behaved his brother was. "Oh, by the way, got to hand it to you. It's been fifteen hours since Portia mentioned her night with James, and not one bestiality joke out of you."

Dean couldn't help himself when he broke out into a toothy smile and the most adorable chuckle slipped out from his mouth. You rolled your eyes from how proud of himself he was. Not that he didn't have complete control of himself about his thoughts, you’d take curious questions any day over jokes that would end up making you say something you regretted.

You got back up to your feet and joined the boys when they headed to the bedroom where you had left James, chained to his bed, looking bored out of his mind from what he’d been having to do for the past day and a half. But it’d the price he had to pay instead of what his future might be if you didn’t figure this situation out. Portia kept him company while all of you worked on his case to make him an innocent man. You had more news to tell him, some good. Some bad.

“Portia tells me my friends in the community want me burned at the stake.” James said.

"We're not gonna lie." Dean admitted to him, both of you exchanged a look from the things you heard circulating about him that weren’t exactly pleasant. "It's getting ugly."

“Yea, the cops may have more on the case than they’re saying, including a thick dossier on you.” Sam added more on to this crappy situation. James seemed taken back at as to why his fellow work colleagues were trying to dig dirt up on him. “I get the feeling whatever they have is under lock and key at the precinct, room C-110.”

“Then we need to break in.” James said, as if that was even possible.

"Sure, yeah." Dean sarcastically pretended to agree with the plan. "A locked room in a joint crawling with cops twenty four-seven—why didn't I think of that?"

"Dean," James spoke the hunter's name in a serious tone, he didn’t get the plan he was trying to suggest. He was thinking too literally. "A witch can go to a place without having to go to a place."

“What, like phone sex?” Dean guessed.

“Astral projection. I can project my awareness anywhere…from the comfort of right here.” James explained in more detail what he was thinking, Dean's brain clicked with what he was trying to get from the look that crossed his face. You had to admit, it witchcraft did have it's works when you wanted it to work in your favor. However, there was something holding him back from getting started on the plan. He lifted his arms were still chained. "But these have to go."

“Not gonna happen.” Dean said, shooting the man’s idea down when he heard the conditions.

“Irons on, no magic.” James said. “No magic, no break-in.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed with the plan. “But only if we can go.”

And by the "we" Sam mentioned, it was himself and his brother. You were more than happy to stick this one out and be a bystander to what you were about to witness. Dean was a little bit hesitant about participating in this. But he didn't have much of a choice. Soon enough the three men were sitting on the edge of the bed, James free from the irons and ready for what needed to be done in order for all of you to figure out what the cops had on him. Portia had her own set of concerns, considering she knew what James was capable of, along with his weaknesses

“James, are you sure you’re still even able to do this?” She asked the man in a concerned voice.

"Oh, well, that's a confidence builder." Dean said. "Anything else I should know before I become a disembodied thing, completely at his mercy?"

"Just close your eyes." James instructed. He placed his hands on both of the boys' shoulders, getting himself ready for what he was about to do. "Whatever I see, I'll pass on to you, too."

You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as all of this unfolded; James closed his eyes and began chanting something in what sounded like Latin, the spell in which would get himself a private eye to the station. While you and Portia overlooked the men, what they were seeing was a perfect view of the police station, as if they were walking around themselves, naked to the human eye. Getting into the locked room was the easy part, it was what James was about to discover was going to be the hardest.

Inside room C-110 was the ongoing and private investigation of the serial murders of the victims, in which Ed Scholtz and the tech guy James knew as Josh, were working diligently on the case, connecting the dots together. All of the victims and their crime scene photos, evidence—all of it was being connected together. And to make matters worse, they were trying to pin it all on James. They had solid evidence that could put him away, no jury would be stupid enough to think twice. The cherry on top of this was the witness statement, done by someone that tied both sides together. Someone James would have never suspect would turn his back on him like this.

James jumped back into his own skin, having seen enough to know that he needed to solve this problem before it got worse. Your arms fell to your side when a rush of panic fell over when you saw the man leap up from the bed without warning, making the boys feel as if they were roughly shoved back into reality themselves. All though they were trying to get their heads to stop spinning, the brothers seemed unharmed from the unexpected crash landing to reality.

“James, why don’t you give us a little warning you’re gonna snap us back like that?” Dean asked the man, his tone of voice clear enough to show his frustration.

“Sholtz—he’s building a case against me.” Josh said. Your face dropped in surprise at this twist of events you would have never seen coming, Portia seemed shocked herself at what she was hearing. He inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to get his back on straight and try to make sense of what he just discovered. “Ed—he’s always wanted a breakthrough case. Nailing a renegade cop—that would qualify.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “especially one he holds a grudge against.”

“My first case—they dropped him as lead detective.” James said, remembering about how the man had reacted. A rookie taking center stage and pushing someone who had been doing this a lot longer out into the shadows. It made people like Ed pissed off. “They went with me.”

"So what is this, you think—payback?" You asked, trying to make sense of all of this yourself.

"He can't just arrest you." Portia said, knowing things like this weren't that simple. She tried to be the voice of reason and calm James down before he could get himself worked up from what he saw. "He needs evidence. He needs proof."

“He’s got it!” James told the woman. “He’s got everything.”

"From who?" She asked.

“Phil.” Dean answered her question. You gave him a confused look as to who that was. It wasn't who he was that needed to worry about, but what he was that mattered the most—and what tied all of this together. “The cat.”

James felt the rage starting to boil in his chest from everything that he was discovering, too quick for his brain to comprehend about what this meant. His entire life was crumbling right in front of him--by someone he trusted and confided in from the very beginning all of this started. His breathing began to turn heavier while his anger began to spread across his expression, giving away his reaction. The boys were starting to suspect of what was about to happen, and much as they tried to talk him off the ledge from doing something stupid, James didn’t want to calm down. He wanted the truth to come out, he wanted to set this whole thing straight--and most of all, he wanted revenge.

Before you knew it, James used his powers against them, making the boys be thrown across the room, both of them landing roughly against the wall, hitting their heads hard enough to make them not a problem for a few minutes. You thought quickly on your feet before he could do something stupid. You knew it wasn’t going to kill him, but you had a feeling a bullet to the head might slow him down a bit. You pointed the loaded gun at him, your finger resting on the trigger, hoping you might be the one to talk some sense into him before he tried to fling you against the wall like had to the brothers.

“Hey—don’t you dare even think about it. I’m not exactly in the right state of being tossed around like a rag doll.” You warned the man, seeing the anger in his eyes from what you had done against him. “We want the same thing here, James. We want to find the person who is trying to frame you. And we can do that. But you need to think logically about this.”

“She’s right.” Portia agreed with you. She stepped forward to the man, hoping she could the one to get the man to calm down before he did something that made him bad as the person who was trying to frame him. “We’ll do this together.”

“No, we won’t. It’s not safe for you.” James said. He thought this might end with either him getting a chance to clear his name, or die trying. Either way, he didn’t want the woman he loved in any part of this. “Our time together is over.”

“Standing by you is my duty,” She said, standing her ground. “My duty!”

"Portia, he's right. You have a life. Getting involved with this is only gonna end up bloody for you." You lowered the gun to your side, giving her a sympathetic look from what you saw unfolding in front of your eyes. You looked over at James, deciding what would be best for all of you. "You saved the boys lives. And this situation is yours to handle. I owe you that much. Just...go. Take care of this."

James didn’t waste anymore time chatting away about what the right thing to do was, he pushed past Portia and stormed out of the room, and soon out of your sight. You let out a sigh from how you saw her handle this. She gave you a look of disbelief from what you had done. Not only did you help take away the man she loved and cared for, you pushed him into a fight that might end up deadly. You waited until you heard the slamming of the door for you as a sign to get started on your real plan.

“Okay. Now that's over," Your solemn expression changed in the blink of an eye, meanwhile Portia was trying her hardest not to let her emotions get the best of her. She gave you a look, wondering what the hell you were doing. "Let's get started on stopping this, shall we?"

"What?" Portia asked, finding your change in behavior not helpful at all. She felt left in the dark from the trick you pulled, and how it was going to benefit all of you. "You practically pushed him out the door. And now you want to stop him?”

"All part of the plan. I've been down this road so many times, I practically wrote the part about 'breaking up with someone I love' to keep them safe. It never works. But you know what does? Kicking ass and killing the bad guys. Which I really could go for right about now." You said, tucking your gun back into the waistband of your jeans for safekeeping. You saw the dread and heartbreak in Portia’s eyes begin to change, giving her some hope that her lover might not end up dead. “Let’s get the boys. We need to catch James before he gets himself into real trouble.”

[Next Part]

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ardhynata · 5 years

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Where is he now?

God loved him, he was blessed with the friendliness of time. He had many watches. One with small compass, when the hands were stopped, his mom brought it to the horologist. Time was never broken. It was always on his hand.

One with small calculator and a bit of Power Rangers in Space imagination. He thought with the watch he could be someone stronger, someone unstoppable, someone who always win. He could cheat with mathematics exams, but never used it because he was already smart. That calculator was never for math, it was meant only to live his imagination. His mom got the knowledge flowing to his head. She's a mathematic teacher.

In the elementary school National Exam, he's the source of answers. Through class door he threw small papers to other class. Everyone was passed the exam. Everyone sang, he was standing there and reading his poem. Thanks to teachers? No, thanks to Mom. His mom threw him a book when he was crying there on the building-material sand. In his heart he said, "I don't need this, tomorrow I will be fine. I will answer all the questions correctly".

When he got second rank in the class, because the boy who got the first rank was the homeroom teacher's son, his friend raged. They said "That's just because Oong is Mrs. Sumini's son. Of course you are the rank one."

Titania was a beautiful little girl and probably still is, she liked him. He was so shy. They decided to meet once outside school hour. They never meet again, except when he rode his bicycle passing her house and she sat there on the chair at her terrace, he said hi and smiled.

Moving to new district, he woke up in the morning, and went to junior highschool. Years later he could ride a motorcycle and morning wouldn't an hectic hour for his mom and dad.

He wanted to be school council member, but never had a chance to register himself. His friends are mostly the sons or daughters of military father. He befriended them and be the most noisy gank in the class. Their homeroom teacher hated them, but she should give up when she knew she couldn't punish them with difficult questions. They are smartest gank in the class yet so rebel and freaking noisy.

The end of first year, then the election of new head of council. He never had a chance to register his membership for the second time. But, Dimas, on of his gank member was a friend of the new head of council, Mega. Mega was a cool boy and friendly. It's an easy task to befriend him. He might not be a council member, but he befriended the head of the council.

One day, his Nokia 3220 rang and made a cool colored-light on its side. Message from Mega. "One of our member in religion affairs department decided to resign before first-day duty. Do you mind to take his place?" Starting from that day, he became the member of council without any further fit-and-proper test.

Second year was full of duty to prepare Friday prayer and also Tarawih when it was Ramadan. From preparing the carpets for girl attendees to becoming a muadhin for the prayers. All was monitored and controlled by his head of department, Thoriq.

Second year, he met with girl, Restu. He liked her, he texted her every night, but he never confessed his feeling. She ended up with other boy.

Third year, he was punished by his mathematics teacher, Mr. Mardi, because he didn't do his homework. The teacher just said a 'password' : "Go!" which means he should run around basketball field twice as a punishment.

Third year, he and Mega had become a classmate. Two classic friends sit behind one desk; debate always happened between them. Mr. Mardi was annoyed with their loud conversation. Mr. Mardi wanted him to sit on the other desk every time he taught the class. So Mr. Mardi ordered him to sit with a girl named Yossy everytime he taught the class. He and Yossy always had an awkward conversation. He could only be fluent in conversation if Yossy asked him about mathematics problems.

One day, he didn't do his homework again. "Go!". Once he had run for half a round, someone went out from class. It was Yossy, who turned out not doing her homework too. Two humans from class IX-D running around basketball field. He only said, "You too?" and laughed

Yes he liked her, the most beautiful girl in the class. He never confessed.

Yossy had a friend named Tri Kurnia. He called her Trikurkurkur. (Kur kur kur is the way of Javanese calling a farm chicken in order to feed them). She became his bestfriend. He, Trikurkurkur and Mega were often representing their school in various Science Olympic. They are from the same class. One member of the Science Olympic team was from other class named Nur Halimah. She was the smartest student in the school. Nur Halimah was a simple girl. He, Trikurkurkur, and Mega were a bunch of freaking smartass pricks. Only fate that could brought them into one class. Look how competitive that class was.

The end of junior high school year. He was appointed as a head of annual farewell events; Art Exhibition. That was a new thing and a new challenge for him. He got many supports from new people around him. From Mega, Mega's girlfriend at that time, Thoriq, Indra the masters of pencil sketching, Ade Riza the one who's very keen in photography, and many more. He, Thoriq, Indra, and Trikurkurkur formed a band to perform in farewell party.

Junior Highschool National Exams results announcement, and also days when they waited for Senior Highschool enrollment. He tried to enroll himself to three schools. Two if them are the best schools in the neighboring city, Madiun. First enrollment to acceleration program highschool (from 3 normal years of education into only 2 years) failed. He was frustrated. Second enrollment to International-Standard School he succeed. But strange feeling happened to him and his mother after they paid for enrollment money.

"My son, I feel like you would not be actually going to this school. I have a strong feeling that you will get that scholarship-offering school, and that's the best school you ever study at."

Those day was hectic days of looking for the best school. God loved him, he was blessed with the opportunity. He passed the first elimination step. He went to Malang, very far away city from his home. He took the second elimination tests that will look for the best 150 students in East Java to get the three-year full scholarship and boarding school.

Friday in the morning, before Friday prayers. He and his mother went to newspaper seller and buy a newspaper. Yes, it was the day of final announcement. He was so nervous that he said to his mother, "Mother, can we look at the announcement later after I do Friday prayer?" She looked at him and nodded. They went to Nasi Pecel seller to buy a food because his mother didn't cook for lunch.

While they were waiting for the seller to make the Nasi Pecel his mother said, "My son, I have no patience anymore to see the announcement. Can we just open the newspaper and look for your name?"

He nodded and gently open the newspaper.

Yes, his name was there. A mother and her son cried in the public while hugging. They don't care other people looking at them. They're showered with happiness and joy.

Three years after that is a story that can only be expressed with thankfulness to God.

After those three years passed. . . he started to fade away.

* * *

God loved him, he was blessed with the friendliness of time. The day this story is written that boy has never been found anywhere for years. Someone is looking for him now, crying in the night, thinking that he has lost someone precious in his life. Someone has been losing the boy. Someone is wanting to meet him, reminiscing and rejoicing past events. He wouldn't mind losing anything, but the boy.

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warlockwriter · 6 years

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To Lose Thee Were To Lose Myself: Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6/10

Pairing: Gabriel/Sam

Chapter Word Count: 2696 (Story so far: 8422)

Summary: Sam didn’t believe the “new man” speech from Gabriel, but he understood recovery and knew sometimes you just had to put on a brave face. He still struggled with his own recovery journey. Perhaps the two of them could help each other? And gank a few monsters along the way?

A/N: Begins right after 13x20 and goes canon divergent from there. Title from Paradise Lost by John Milton. Many thanks to @archangelgabriellives for the beta read and a couple of awesome suggestions/additions! Story is complete. I’m just trying the serial approach because I’ve never done it with a fanfic before.

Ao3 Link

Back at the car, Sam said, "You're going to do what?"

Gabriel had the expression you get when explaining things to particularly slow children. "Angel senses, Sam. Every creature has a distinct presence, which I can sense. If I was at full power, I could find the werewolf from miles away. With my current power level, it'll be more like 500 feet or so. Which means we drive around until I get a blip on my angel radar."

Sam shook his head. "So you're basically going to track him like a bloodhound?"

Gabriel sighed. "That's not exactly how I would have put it, but if that's the easiest way for you to conceptualize it, then fine."

Sam gave him a grin. "Let's get a motel room so we can change out of these suits, and we'll start driving around."

"Change out of your suit?" Gabriel asked with a smirk. "Why? You look so good in yours."

Sam rolled his eyes at the angel and decided not to mention that he was developing a thing for Gabriel's new leather jacket.

There was a Motel 6 not too far away, and they were able to get a room--Sam didn't even propose two rooms--and change back into more appropriate hunting gear. A text came in from Dean while Sam was double checking to see if he had any anti-werewolf ammo. He read the text and chuckled.

Gabriel looked up from tying his shoes. "What's so funny?"

"Dean says he just got to the Bunker but that he and Cas won't be leaving right away."

Gabriel developed a wicked half-smile. "Did he say why?"

Sam gave him a wide grin in return. "Something about research."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Apparently."

He handed four shotgun shells to Gabriel. "Werewolf load. One part silver shot to three parts regular."

Gabriel took the shells and reloaded his shotgun with the new ammunition. "Good thinking. You must have been a Boy Scout."

Sam huffed out a bark of laughter. "Hardly."

One last check of their gear, and they left the room. Once in the car, Sam pulled up a map of the town on his tablet. Scrolling around, he stopped, and handed the tablet to Gabriel, who took it and asked, "What am I looking at?"

"I'm thinking the outskirts are the place to start. I don't see a nest being in the middle of town."

Gabriel scrolled around on the map. For an angel, he was oddly comfortable with technology. "Makes sense." He pointed to a small development. "Something about that's making my senses tingle."

"I thought that was a Spiderman thing," Sam said, taking and stowing the tablet.

"Hey, angels had it first."

They drove off, Sam navigating to the location he'd found on the map. As soon as they arrived in the neighborhood, he slowed down to a crawl, glad he'd boosted an automatic. Keeping this speed in a manual would have been impossible.

"Because this isn't creepy? Two guys slow driving through a residential neighborhood?" Gabriel commented. Sam noticed the nerves in his voice.

"I want to give you a chance to get a good...err...look?"

Gabriel closed his eyes and leaned back in the passenger seat. "Not my eyes I'm using here, Sam."

They made two passes through the neighborhood before Gabriel shook his head. "Not getting even a twinge. Guess my angel senses were wrong." Sam could hear the defeated frustration in his tone.

Sam drove to a nearby strip mall and got out his tablet again. After a moment, he said, "Okay. We'll try this one."

When he handed the tablet over this time, their hands brushed, and Sam felt a surge of grace.

"Sorry about that," Gabriel said absently as he looked at what Sam had found this time.

Sam knew they were going to have to deal with this at some point. It seemed like Gabriel's grace was getting more determined as time went on.

Gabriel handed back the tablet, obviously being careful not to touch Sam. "Yeah, that looks promising. We'll try that."

Sam drove to the new neighborhood and repeated his slow drive. One older lady gave them a suspicious look as they went by, but no one else seemed to notice.

As they reached the end of a street, Gabriel straightened in his seat. "That one," he said.

Sam drove a few yards further and parked by the curb. "Which one?"

Gabriel turned in his seat, and pointed. "That one. With the junk in the yard."

Sam turned to look where Gabriel had pointed. It was a dilapidated ranch-style house that looked as if it had once been painted a light blue. Now it just looked a tired gray. There was a ragged chain-link fence surrounding it, and the yard was hazardous with cast-off toys, old appliances and rusty auto parts.

"They are definitely bringing down the property values," Gabriel commented.

"Any idea how many are in there?" Sam asked, ignoring the real estate commentary.

Gabriel shook his head. "The werewolf I detected on the body is there, but I can't determine any more than that." He frowned down at himself. "If I only had more grace."

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've got plenty for what we need to do." He pulled his hand back abruptly as Gabriel's grace surged toward him.

"Yeah, better not do that again," the angel said, tone matter of fact.

"Right. How do we want to do this?"

Gabriel shrugged. "You're the hunter."

Sam didn't like the defeated note in his voice. "And you're an Archangel of the Lord. Don't tell me you've never planned strategy."

Sam was glad to see the angel straighten a bit at that. "Well, maybe."

"Okay, then. We've got the shotguns for the werewolves. And the machete for the vampires. I think you should take the machete. I've seen your blade work."

Gabriel gave him a small smile. "All right. You want to go in the front, shotgun blazing? I'll go in through the back?"

"Are we sure there is a back door?"

"Only one way to find out. Give me a minute," Gabriel said as he opened the car door.

Sam wanted to call him back, but he knew he had to let the archangel do this. Didn't mean he liked him going off alone.

Gabriel vanished around the corner of the house two doors down from their target. Sam waited, body tense in anticipation of all the things that could go wrong.

Long minutes passed. Sam was seriously considering heading after Gabriel, and his hand was on the door handle when someone knocked on the passenger side door. Sam whirled, gun in hand but breathed in relief when he saw it was Gabriel. He frowned and said, "You open your own damn door."

Gabriel was grinning as he climbed in the car. "Okay, there is a back door, as I'd thought. Kind of tricky to get there around all the trash, so I think you going in the front is still the best plan."

"Were you able to get any feel for how many there were inside?"

Gabriel half-nodded. "I heard at least four distinct voices and as many presences, but there may be more. Monsters generally make less noise than you humans."

Sam shot him an inquiring look. "What about that angel radar?" He deliberately kept his tone light and teasing.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at him. "It's not exactly like radar. For monsters especially, I need some hint to start with. Like a voice or a scent."

Sam nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. Oddly enough, he liked it when he learned angels had a few limitations. "So at least four. Any idea where they are?"

"It sounded like three were close to the front. I heard the fourth as I was approaching the back door."

"All right. How long do you need to get into position?"

Gabriel considered for a moment. "The yard is a mess. Better give me five minutes, to be safe."

"I can do that. Let's move a few more doors down and gear up." Sam started the engine and drove just out of sight of the house. They both got out, and Sam opened the trunk and got out his bag. He handed Gabriel his shotgun and machete. The angel glanced back and forth down the street and took the weapons. Sam grabbed his shotgun, extra shells and Ruby's knife, because it was familiar. He lifted up his jacket to conceal his pistol in the waistband of his jeans.

"Let's go."

Gabriel nodded and moved off, stride smoothing into that of a predator. Sam was again reminded of how much the archangel sometimes resembled a bird of prey.

Within a minute, Gabriel had moved out of his site, and Sam kept an eye on his watch. When Gabriel had been out of sight for two minutes, the tall hunter started to move. He walked casually down the street, attempting to look as if he belonged.

Right at the five minute mark, he arrived. Taking a deep breath, he kicked in the door and moved into the room.

Motion caught his eye, and he turned left, firing his shotgun. It was loaded with anti-werewolf shells. The man dropped immediately and didn't move.

Sam heard a crash and shotgun blast from the back of the house and knew Gabriel had started his part of the assault. Assuming the archangel had taken down his target, he mentally added one to the count of downed monsters.

He scanned the room and saw something charging him from the right. Another blast from his shotgun stopped the man for a moment but didn't take him down. Vampire, Sam's mind helpfully provided.

He lowered the shotgun and pulled out his knife. It wouldn't kill a vampire, but it might slow him down long enough for Gabriel to get in here with the machete.

One more shotgun blast, a few feet closer this time.

The vampire charged Sam, who dropped into a crouch to meet it. He moved close, inside the monster's reach, and thrust upward. The vampire grunted and tried to rip out his throat. With his other hand, Sam managed to get the shotgun between his own neck and the vampire's fangs, the gun acting as a shield. He slashed again at the vampire, hoping to wound him enough to slow him for a moment.

Just then a machete blade sliced through the vampire's neck, and the head fell, rolling several feet away on the filthy floor.

Sam straightened, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw Gabriel.

The archangel was standing at his full height, head darting back and forth, alert for threats. His shoulders rolled back, as if he were mantling invisible wings. He held the angel blade in one hand and the machete in the other and looked as if he could use either with equal proficiency.

Gabriel was gorgeous.

Unfortunately, Sam didn't have time to admire him. Something came through the front door at the same time as another threat came charging down the stairs to Sam's left.

They didn't need to signal or communicate in any way. As if they had been hunting together for decades, Gabriel darted to the side to deal with the vampire coming down the stairs, while Sam whirled to meet the werewolf behind him.

He swore to himself, wishing he'd had time to reload the shotgun.

The werewolf came in low, claws extended. Shit! This one was a pureblood and could transform in the middle of the day. Not good.

Sam danced back a few steps, surprisingly graceful for such a large man. He managed to get behind a table and used the few seconds the cover bought him to try to remember what he'd loaded his pistol with. Had he put in silver bullets?

The werewolf darted around the table, trying to claw Sam, moving to keep the furniture between them. He tossed the shotgun at the monster, who wasted a second dodging the projectile. Then the wolf wasted another few precious seconds, grinning at how his prey had disarmed himself.

Sam was vaguely aware of Gabriel and the vampire circling each other. This vampire must be the Sire to be giving an angel so much trouble.

He couldn't spend any time worrying about Gabriel, however. He reached behind himself, pulling out his pistol.

The werewolf grinned, obviously not worried about a gun.

That overconfidence is going to get you killed, Sam thought to himself as he took aim and fired.

Direct hit.

Too bad he had loaded the gun with the wrong ammunition.

The werewolf shook himself as if he'd been bitten by a mosquito and slammed the table to one side, tossing it into the far wall.

Damn! No cover and the wrong damned ammo. Fortunately, the shotgun slid in his direction. Sam dropped his useless pistol and grabbed the shotgun, hoping to find a moment to reload.

The werewolf charged, and Sam again used the shotgun as a shield for his vulnerable throat. He slashed out with his knife and scored a long, deep slash along the monster's ribs. Unfortunately, it barely slowed him.

Sam backpedaled desperately. And tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet.

As he fell, he managed to get the shotgun positioned across his throat.

The werewolf dove on him, fangs extended, reaching for the hunter's jugular.

Sam slashed desperately with his knife, but missed.

Just then Gabriel slammed into the werewolf, knocking the monster off of Sam.

"Reload, Sam!" Gabriel shouted as he fought the werewolf with both machete and angel blade. Sam was briefly distracted by the dance-like qualities of his movements, but he quickly refocused and rummaged in his pocket for two more shells. Of course, he dropped one, but he still had another, and he slammed it home in the shotgun. Closing it with a quick motion of his left arm, he tracked Gabriel and the werewolf.

The werewolf was trying to get away from the archangel, obviously wanting to get back to the more vulnerable human, but Gabriel foiled each of its efforts, one blade or the other appearing as if by magic to block whichever direction the monster tried to move.

Sam lifted the shotgun and yelled, "Gabriel. Down!"

The archangel dropped to his knees, and Sam fired, exploding the werewolf's head all over the filthy living room.

"About time," Gabriel said.

Sam stood for a moment, panting. It wasn't fair that angels didn't get winded in fights. "You try reloading a shotgun while in the middle of not getting killed by a werewolf."

"Point taken," Gabriel said with a small smile. "Nice shooting."

"Thanks. Now will you go get your shotgun so we can get out of here before the neighbors all show up?"

Gabriel nodded and started for the back of the house. Sam decided going out the back way was sensible and followed him.

They made it back to the car without incident, and, once again, Sam thanked the Winchester luck. It didn't keep them from needing to deal with monsters, but it did usually keep them out of trouble with the law.

As they drove off, Gabriel commented, "Well now I know why my angel senses were tickled by the last neighborhood."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that pureblood that showed up last. He must have been there when we looked on my tablet."

"Would have been nice to know about him earlier. I wasn't sure I'd be able to take care of the vampire in time to help you out."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Thanks for that. And nice sword fighting. You looked good back there."

"Aww, Sam. You noticed."

Once again, Gabriel was making light of the good things he had done. Sam wished he would stop that but figured, like any recovery, it would take time.

"Of course I noticed. I make a point of noticing anyone who saves my ass in a fight."

He was expecting some sort of quip about his ass, but Gabriel remained silent for the rest of the drive back to the motel.

TBC

@snips-snails-skittles @idabbleincrazy @sageclover61 @ihaveallthesefeelsokay @calamitychaos @gryffindorofcabin21 @kydrogen-monoxide @everyoneforgetsadam @team-gabriel @shiny-crystaline @samuelwinschester

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#warlockwriter fanfic #sabriel #post 13x20 #case!fic #grace bonds

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team-free-winchester · 6 years

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Am I Dreaming? Chapter 8

Summary: The boys learn what Castiel said about a Nephilim is true, except it isn’t y/n who carries the child. While trying to help the girl the book y/n left goes unnoticed until the extreme happens.

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Warnings: none

A week after y/n was sent back Castiel felt the surge of energy that could only be caused by a nephilim, but it was too strong to be just any nephilim so it had to be Lucifer. They already had their hands tied with Lucifer, now that had to add a woman pregnant with his baby to the list. They had no chance to sit down and relax, which the boys were thankful for since that meant they didn’t have to stop to think about the girl they sent back. All of the boys cared for y/n and when she left they were more than happy to throw themselves into their work, the bunker didn’t even feel the same anymore so whenever the boys could leave they did. Castiel wasn’t like them though, no matter how much he threw himself into his work like the boys he could still think of her, he could still hear her laugh echo in his brain.

Some days he even found himself forgetting she was no longer with them, there would be days he’d appear in her room only to be reminded it was just another empty room now. He longed for her to be here again, for her to yell at him for scaring her since no matter how many times he just showed up over the few months she never got used to it. Most nights he found himself in her bed, just laying there even though he can’t sleep. He found peace in all things that reminded him of her but he also found heartache in it, that was why he was grateful for the fact that Lucifer was having a child. Though the situation wasn’t the best it was a welcomed distraction that would keep him from thinking of her and what they could have been.

Castiel spent most of his time with the girl who held Lucifer's spawn while the boys stayed back at the bunker researching what they could about the whole ordeal. That was when Sam found the book sticky note still intact and all, he had never seen it so he was more than confused when he seen it but he cracked it open nonetheless. Reading the first sentence he realized who's book it was, but instead of stopping he was interested and decided to do as the note asked and kept going until he read the whole journal.

Entry 1: Castiel gave me this as a way to write when I feel the urge to since I let him in on my little secret about fanfiction. I don't plan to tell either of the boys though, I don't need them thinking I'm another becky. I'm shocked I even told Castiel, but I feel like I'm close to him already. Living in this world is weird and takes getting used to but I feel more welcomed here in this week than I ever had at home.

Entry 2: The boys took me on my first hunt and it went nothing like I thought it would. Seeing them gank monsters on tv is nothing like trying to do it, but it seems like since the hunt I've gotten nightmares. I'm not going to tell the boys though, or even Castiel since I love the experience the nightmares are just a slight issue that I'll work past.

Entry 3: They all know about my issue since the hunt, now I have to stay in the bunker. It should be more of a relief than it really is, eventually the boys will get annoyed. And even if they don't Cas is still going to, be is an angel of the lord he shouldn't have to babysit me because I can't handle monsters when I watch them do it all the time.

Entry 4: Spending time alone with Gas is anything but boring, we always find a new first for him to complete or just watching something on tv that he hasn't seen before. Sure we help the boys when they need it with research but that was rare since Sam takes most of the lore he'll need with him. The more time I spend with him the more I fall for him, my crush on the angel is growing though I still get the feeling this means more to me than to him. The moment the boys return home he is gone, he never stays to just hang out so what else do I have to believe than that he's just my celestial babysitter.

Entry 5: Cas ended up confronting me over avoiding him the other day and requesting that we watch tv together like we always did after I spilled my guts, I ended up falling asleep on him without even realizing it. But he was still there when I woke up even though the boys were home. We spent the day cuddled up on to watch the season finale of our most recent show, as well as half of the next season.

Entry 6: Most of my days lately have been spent wandering the bunker alone, Cas was here when he could be but he has other things to handle. I’m starting to get tired of not having anything to do when I’m not with Castiel. I had to find a way to bring up to the boys that I want to try hunting again. I know more than last time, I’m way more prepared than I was a while ago I’ve even been training with each of them when I get the chance to.

Entry 7: After mentioning my extensive training I’ve had from the three of them the boys agreed. Their only conditions were that I had to keep my word sticking to small hunts and I couldn't tell Cas at all. Both boys swear that he would be mad if he found out but I can’t seem to understand why and I’m not going to stress over it either, instead I’m going to focus on pack for the hunt before they can change their minds.

Entry 8: The witch hunt backfired and now I am stuck as the one version of myself that I hate more than my actual self. The teenage me barely talked, or ate and when she did do either of those things she always did too much. It’s only been a day and I can feel everything already creeping in, but i'm not going to say anything about it just to show how weak I really am.

Entry 9: Two days, that’s all it’s been since this damn curse was put on me and it was a fight for me to even get out of bed each day. Most days I didn’t either, the boys have been bringing me food to my room but I don’t eat much of it either. It’s been a struggle from the start on and I knew the boys could tell but I don’t have the energy to even care anymore.

Entry 10: I have barely slept more than two hours or so since everything has happened and sleep exhaustion was taking as much of a toll on me as the depression was. Earlier today I seen Cas for the first time since it all happened as well, I feel like missing him was adding to every other feeling I had going on. He was trying to talk to me and I didn’t even hear him standing there behind me asking if I was okay as I was battling with myself to reach out for help. The moment he asked I instantly started crying, I couldn’t even find my voice to speak up what my issues were. That day I had the best much need rest thanks to Cas’ grace.

Entry 11: Cas ended up telling the boys about our encounter the day before so when I woke up they were both waiting for me looking less than happy. They revealed that not only did he tell them how I was feeling but I slept the whole fifth day of the curse away without even realizing it. After we had a talk the boys decided we would spend our day together since I only had two left they swore I’d be able to get through it with them by my side. At first I was reluctant because I don’t want them thinking I’m weak but eventually things were going great, well as great as it could go with a depressed girl, Cas even showed up and spent the rest of the day with us.

Entry 12: Cas spent the day after that with me just the two of us, it was a very welcome distraction full of cuddling and Stranger Things. And the day after that was spent with the boys as they prepared for whatever case the found next. But when my spell officially wore off and the boys had a hunt to head out to Cas never answered our calls which worried me like no tomorrow.

Entry 13: He finally showed up once I cleaned the bunker and decided to watch a movie though he was tense and shifting the whole time. When I longed for him to kiss me in my mind he visibly stiffened even more. Things have been tense since the day Cas spent with me cuddled in my bed before the curse wore off, he sensed how I feel about him but I brushed it off as an effects of the curse but that couldn’t be my excuse this time since I was fine now. And when I brought it up to him the only response I received was “Things changed after the other day,” it hurt when he said it, I ended up in a ball against my door sobbing because I lost someone else I grew attached to.

My Final Entry: Castiel left after telling me that I was right about one of the things going through my head on repeat and I keep sitting here trying to figure out which of the options his answer is. I don’t really want to know at the same time because two out of three will just hurt me even more, but when the boys came in informing me that I was leaving when he came back I knew that I would rather imagine than know the answer and be hurt. As scary as it is to say or write I know I love Castiel and no answer or dimension can change that.

Sam and Dean are almost like brothers to me but they want me to leave as well, after the last week and everything they still just want me to jump through some sort of a portal without thinking twice. I plan on doing it to make them happy since they have made me happy this whole time, but it is going to hurt like hell since I’ve grown attached. This place was more like a house to me than my actual house is, there has never been a place I’ve felt more needed and loved, all good things must come to an end though so I’m not surprised.

I forgot about the fact that I wasn’t from here for a while, and when I remembered again my heart shattered a little. I didn’t even know a way to properly say goodbye to the three of you which it why I am writing this now as all three of you wait for me to be ready, I love all of you more than I love my blood family I hope you remember that. I may be leaving now but the moment one of you needs me me in any way come and get me I will always be there.

Sam knew he had to show Cas as well as Dean so he headed towards his brother first passing the book to his brother with the same hurt look he held when y/n walked through the kitchen cupboard home. Dean excepted the book but he shot Sam a questioning glance in the process to which Sam replies, “It’s y/n’s just read it and give it to Cas when you’re done,” before he turned to walk away and actually do his research.

Dean was hesitant to read it at first, but then he seen the handrwiting he came to know as y/n’s and he couldn’t seem to stop just like his brother. The moment that he finished he called to Cas who appeared faster than he expected him to.

“You called?” Castiel asked grufly from behind Dean causing the hunter to turn and look at him book in hand. Castiel’s eyes landed on the book he reconized in an instant because it was y/n’s and he bought it for her himself, “Where did you find that?” he asks reaching out for it as his heart clenches.

“Sam gave it to me to read, I don’t know where he found it all I know is there was a note on top saying ‘read me’ in her handwriting and I was told to pass it on to you once I read it,” Dean replies truthfully as he hands it over, “She wrote some stuff in there that none of us would know if she didn’t tell us.”

Cas nods stiffly holding the book in his hands as though it will turn to ash if he’s not gentle before he goes to turn away, “Oh and Cas, you keep it you were closer to her than any of us,” Dean adds in before Cas vanishes to read the book alone in the room that will always be yours.

#castiel #Supernatural Castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #supernatural dean #supernatural sam #supernatural cas #spn #team free will #cas imagines #castiel x y/n #cas x y/n

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