and thank you very much sister for lending me some of your clothes!

Through space and Time (Part one)

There has always been four of you, however when Sam left for Stanford you went with him, leaving Dean and Katie to continue hunting. “Where will you go?” Sam asks you once the two of you are far enough away from the motel.

“London… I want to stay out of this life for as long as possible.” You reply. “I already have my passport and everything.” Sam looks a little surprised but doesn’t say anything about it.

Instead he says: “Promise me that you will look after yourself and please text me when you get there.”

“Of course Sammy.” Before the two of you go your separate ways, your older brother pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead. As you’re walking you look over your shoulder once watching Sam’s receding form. The song Separate Ways by Journey gets stuck in your head as you head to the airport.
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When you arrive in London and text Sam, you grab a newspaper looking for some place to stay. You find somewhere that is relatively cheap- but there is a slight issue. You don’t have the money to hail a cab and you don’t know London very well so you’re hesitant to go on the tube. For you the best option is walking, despite the fact that it is starting to rain. All you have to protect you from the elements is your second-hand leather jacket. It repels water fine but it isn’t the warmest thing in the world.

By the time you get to 221b Baker street you are drenched head to toe with freezing rain water. You knock on the door, to keep your mind off the cold for a little bit you open up your locket and look at the picture within. The picture is of you and your siblings just goofing around. You look up from your family’s smiling faces when you hear someone ask if they could help you. After a quick explanation, you’re allowed inside.

The landlady introduces herself as Mrs. Hudson. “Nice to meet you Mrs. Hudson, I’m Y/N Winchester.” You answer with a kind smile. Mrs. Hudson then leads you upstairs where two men are lounging around in the front room. The shorter of the two look up from what he is doing and notices how wet your clothes are and how you’re still shivering.

“Here, take this.” He says as he hands you a blanket. “I’m John and that’s Sherlock.” John gestures to the other man sitting across from him.

“Thanks.” You answer as you drape the blanket over your shoulders. “I’m Y/N.”

“How do you feel about the violin?” Sherlock asks, not even bothering to look away from what he is doing.

“I don’t really have a preference. Why do you ask?” You answer. Sherlock gets out of his chair and stalks over to the fireplace before replying.

“I play the violin when I think.”

“Oh…” Your phone starts to ring, you fish it out of your pocket and look at the caller ID- it’s your older sister, Katie. “Hello?” You ask when you pick up.

“Hey. What in the world happened? I’m gone for three weeks and when I come back you and Sam are gone… and neither dad nor Dean will tell me what happened.” Katie says from the other line. You sigh.

“A huge fight broke out between the four of us, which resulted in Sam and I leaving. Sammy went to California…”  You trail off.

“Where did you go?”

“The other side of the world.”

“Do I even want to know how that worked out?” You rub the nape of your neck.

“It’s all sorts of complicated.” Katie lets out an exasperated sigh. She then says that Dean just came back from a supply run and that she’ll call you back. “Talk to you later then sis.”

“Later (Nickname.)” With that your sister hangs up. You sigh and set your phone down on the coffee table. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders trying to retain warmth without a lot of luck.

“Aren’t you going to get out of those clothes?” John asks concerned.

“I would if everything else wasn’t wet.” You reply. John grabs a cane, and gets out of the chair. He limps away leaving you in confusion. When he comes back he tosses a change of clothes at you.

“Put those on for now, the toilet is down the hall to left.”

24 hours after you move in with John and Sherlock, John warns you about Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, and how he would offer you money to spy on Sherlock. “I suggest you say no, no matter how much he offers.” John tells you.

“Who would actually spy on someone for money?” You ask in response. “No matter how tempting it is.”

“Believe it or not, a lot of people do.”

A few hours after talking to John sure enough Mycroft takes you to a remote location and offers you a decent sum of money- enough to get you through a full year of school and then some. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that I would be a very good informant. I’ve never been able to keep a secret… knowing my luck I might let something slip and then I wouldn’t have any place to stay. I can’t afford anywhere else.” You explain, stretching the truth a bit.
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“Where’d you go?” Sherlock asks when you get back to Baker Street.

“Some out of the way warehouse to talk to your brother.” You answer.

“Did he offer you money to spy on me?”

“Yes. I didn’t take it though.”

“Pity we could’ve split the fee.” You don’t respond. Instead you head to your room and grab your laptop and walk back out and sit down at the table. You open the computer and turn it on, it’s going to take a while to boot. Like everything else you own; your laptop had another owner- and that previous owner (aka Sam) forgot to mention that he used up almost all of the memory.

You groan in annoyance when you get an error message. “Computer problems?” John asks.

“Unfortunately. I don’t know what my brother did to it, nor do I know how to fix it.”

“If you really need to use a computer, I can lend you mine… all I ask is that you don’t go snooping through my files and personal documents.”

“Thank you John. Why would I go through your information?”

“I’m not sure but I was just letting you know.” You lightly laugh. The two of you chat for a little bit, getting to know each other a little better. You find out that he used to be an army doctor.

“Well that explains why you threw a dry change of clothes at me yesterday.” John chuckles in response as a man walks up the stairs. John notices him first however Sherlock is the first one to speak.

“Where?” He asks.

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.” The new arrival replies.

“What’s new about this one? You wouldn’t have come to get me if there wasn’t something different.”

“You know how they never leave notes?”


“This one did. Will you come?”

“Who’s on forensics?”

“It’s Anderson.” Sherlock grimaces. Apparently your new room mate has a very strong dislike for this Anderson person.

“Anderson won’t work with me.” Sherlock comments.

“Well, he won’t be your assistant.” The other man (whom you’re pretty sure is a cop) counters.

“I need an assistant.” Sherlock puts a heavy emphasis on the word need. A part of you wonders what Sherlock does for a living. On the other hand the other part of you wonders when your computer will finally decide to cooperate with you.

“Will you come?” The cop impatiently asks.

“Not in a police car. I’ll be right behind.” A look of relief speeds across the cop’s face as he mutters his thanks as he takes his leave. Sherlock then jumps with excitement. “Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it’s Christmas!” You arch an eyebrow not saying a word. Sherlock grabs his coat and his scarf. “Mrs. Hudson, I’ll be late. Might need some food.”

“I’m your landlady dear, not your house keeper.” Mrs. Hudson answers, Sherlock doesn’t seem to hear her because he’s already out the door.

“What was that about?” You inquire slightly puzzled.

“I have no idea.” John answers as he sits down in the arm chair that he has claimed as his. He leans his cane against the chair and picks up a newspaper. Mrs. Hudson tells John that she would make a cup of tea for him, she also tells him to rest his leg. “Damn my leg!” He shouts, startling you and Mrs. Hudson. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s just sometimes this bloody thing…” he then hits his leg with his cane.

“I understand, dear; I’ve got a hip.” John says something about tea and Mrs. Hudson replies with: “Just this once, dear. I’m not your housekeeper.” When the ex-military doctor asks about biscuits Mrs. Hudson almost yells “Not your house keeper!”
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While Sherlock and John are gone you borrow John’s laptop and sign into your Skype account. You notice that both Sam and Katie are online. You then set up a conference video call with them. Katie answers first and a few seconds later Sam joins in. “Hey, it’s my two favorite girls.” Sam jokes. Katie giggles while you just roll your eyes.

“Whatever weirdo.” You reply.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Sammy!” Both you and Katie exclaim at the same time. Sam then throws his head back laughing and clapping his hands. A small smile creeps onto your face.

“How’s the other side of the world sis?” Katie asks.

“So far I like it.” You answer. “I found a place to stay that the rent isn’t too bad.”

“That’s good.” Sam comments.

“Yeah… got some interesting roommates though.” As the words leave your mouth you notice Sherlock coming up the stairs with a pink suitcase in hand, you look at him with a confused look on your face. “Uh, Sherlock why does it look like you went dumpster diving?”

“I was looking for this.” Your roommate answers gesturing to the suitcase in his hand.

“You went dumpster diving for a suitcase?” Sam sounds like he is choking on something. You return your attention to the screen. “You okay there Sam?”

“Water went down the wrong tube.” Your brother answers. Sherlock dramatically flops down on the couch while you’re talking to your brother and sister.

“You know that could break the couch right?” You ask Sherlock not looking away from your screen. Sherlock scoffs.

“Hey Y/N, I have to log off, Dean just got back.” Katie says.

“And I should start heading to class.” Sam adds in. Your heart drops slightly but you put on a fake smile.

“Okay, I guess I’ll talk to you later then.” You, and your siblings close out the chat. You then log out of your Skype then close the window and put John’s laptop back where you found it.
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John seems a little panicked after he finds out he just texted a murderer. Two seconds later John receive a call from a withheld number. “A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they’d ignore a text like that, but the murderer…” Sherlock says dramatically shutting the case. “Would panic.”

“Have you talked to the police?” John asks.

“Four people are dead. There isn’t time to talk to the police.”

“So why are you talking to us?” Sherlock looks a child who lost their favorite toy.

“Mrs. Hudson took my skull.”

“So we’re basically filling in for your skull?” Sherlock just shrugs as he puts on his coat he then says that you and John can watch TV or tag along with him.

“You want us to come with you?” You ask mildly surprised.

“I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so…” Sherlock trails off.

“What the hell I have nothing better to do.” You answer getting out of your chair. John seems hesitant, but he curses when you and Sherlock basically race each other down the stairs. He catches up with the two of you outside. “So where are we going exactly Sherlock?” You ask.

“Northumberland Street’s a five-minute walk from here.” Sherlock explains.

“You think that he is stupid enough to go there?” John asks.

“No – I think he’s brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They’re always so desperate to get caught.” Sherlock counters.

“Do you think he messed up on purpose then?” You ask. Sherlock throws you a slightly impressed look.

“It is a possibility, but then again he might’ve made an amateur mistake.”

“You’ve lost me.” John says. “Why are the brilliant killers so eager to get caught?”

“Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That’s the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience.”

“The the more newspapers about these murders the more audience the killer receives. The more audience the more murders… right Sherlock?” Sherlock once again looks slightly impressed, not many people can keep up with his train of thought.

“Exactly right Y/N.” Sherlock pauses for a second. “This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go.” He throws his hands up thinking. “Think! Who do we trust, even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?”

“Don’t know.” John states. “Who?”

“Haven’t the faintest. Hungry?”

“More like starving.” You say throwing your two cents in. Sherlock airily chuckles as he leads you and John to a small Italian place. The waiter clearly knows the consulting detective.

“Thank you Billy.” Sherlock says as he takes off his coat and sits down at a table just as the waiter removes the reserved sign. “Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it.” He advises.

“Think the killer is just going to waltz up to the door and ring the doorbell?” You ask. “I don’t think anyone besides my brother, Dean, would be that cocky.” Sherlock only shrugs as the owner walks over to the table with three menus.

“Sherlock.” He says with a smile, Sherlock shakes the owner’s hand. “Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your friends.”

“Thank you…” you meekly say. “Can I ask why it’s on the house?”

“This man got me off a murder charge.”
“This is Angelo.” Sherlock says, as you and John shake Angelo’s hand. “Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking.”

“He cleared my name.”

“I cleared it a bit.” Sherlock huffs. Angelo says a few other things before taking his leave. “You may as well eat. We might have a long wait.”

You don’t order a lot, figuring that Sherlock might want to leave at any second. Sherlock stares out the window, watching. “Sherlock how come your brother calls himself your arch-enemy?” You ask breaking the silence between the three of you.

“Yours don’t?” Sherlock asks mildly surprised.


“Sounds a bit dull.”

“For you maybe. For me; well let’s just say that over the years my family has made a lot of enemies, because of that I could only trust my family.” You bitterly answer.

“What about friends?” John asks. You stand up and throw him a harsh look.

“Never. Had. One.” You coldly retort as you then leave the restaurant and head back to Baker Street.
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When the cops show up, you meet Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan. You’re not the biggest fan of Anderson nor Donovan, you like Lestrade to a point.

Sherlock storms up the stares and glares at Lestrade. “What are you doing?” He demands.

“Well, I knew you’d find the case. I’m not stupid.” Lestrade retorts.

“You can’t just break into my flat.”

“And you can’t withhold evidence. And I didn’t break into your flat.”

“Well, what do you call this then?” Lestrade puts on an innocent face before answering.

“It’s a drugs bust.” When John sarcastically asks if Sherlock was a junkie, you see the hurt in Sherlock’s face telling you that he was a junkie at some point in his life. Sherlock then tells John to shut up. He then returns his attention to Lestrade.

“I’m not your sniffer dog.” He states.

“No, Anderson‘s my sniffer dog.” Sherlock looks ready to kill someone. He actually singles out Anderson.

“Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?”

“Oh, I volunteered.” Anderson answers, venom dripping from his voice.

“They all did. They’re not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they’re very keen.” Lestrade points out. Donovan then walks out of the kitchen holding a container of eyeballs.

“Are these human eyes?” She asks.

“Put those back!” Sherlock exclaims.

“They were in the microwave!”

“It’s an experiment.” Lestrade tells everyone to keep looking or Sherlock could actually help them. The conversation that is going on between them isn’t really friendly. “I AM CLEAN!” Sherlock practically yellls. He actually shows Lestrade his nicotine patch.

“So let’s work together. We’ve found Rachel.” Lestrade says pulling down his sleeve.

“Who is she?”

“Jennifer Wilson’s only daughter.” That seems to throw Sherlock through a loop. He starts muttering about why would the victim write her daughter’s name.

“Never mind that. We found the case.” Anderson harshly points out. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath.“

“I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.” Sherlock deadpans. “You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her.”

“She’s dead.”

“Excellent!!” You and John share a worried look. “How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be.”

“Well, I doubt it, since she’s been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson’s stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago.” Sherlock looks all confused and slightly disappointed. He then starts muttering again.

“Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I’m seeing it now.” Anderson states. You ball your hand up into a fist he just hit a nerve.

When you were three and a half when your mom just got off the phone with your dad asking him to come and get you; your dad and your siblings were a little slow- you watched in horror as your mom got mauled to death by a hellhound. Her last words to you were- I love you and I’ll think about you always.

“She didn’t think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt.” Sherlock points out.

“You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he … I don’t know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow.” John mentions.

“Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?”

“Sherlock…” You say, your voice shaking slightly. You were still shaken from Anderson’s comment. “When someone loses a person they love, it’s hard. I mean when my mom was killed it took me almost two years for me to cope, I’m still not over it.”

“Yeah… now if you were dying if you’d been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?”

“Please, God, let me live.” John answers.

“I would say the same thing.” You add in.

“Oh, use your imagination!” Sherlock scolds.

“We don’t have to.” Sherlock looks at you and John and sees the pain behind your eyes… he then realises that both of you have been on death’s door step before.

“Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever… Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever.” Sherlock says continuing his train of thought. He also starts to pace. “She’s trying to tell us something.” Mrs. Hudson walks up the stairs.

“Isn’t the doorbell working? Your taxi’s here, Sherlock.” She says.

“I didn’t order a taxi. Go away.”

“Oh, dear. They’re making such a mess. What are they looking for?”

“It’s a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson.” John answers. Poor Mrs. Hudson looks panicked.

“But they’re just for my hip. They’re herbal soothers.”

Sherlock suddenly shouts: “Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t breathe. I’m trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You’re putting me off.”

“What? My face is?!” Anderson asks in surprise. You hide a smile.

“Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back.” Lestrade pipes up.

“Oh for God’s sake!”

“Your back, now, please!” Anderson reluctantly turns his back and Sherlock starts talking to himself. Then there was Mrs. Hudson talking causing the consulting detective to yell at her.
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Sherlock disappears somewhere. You roll your eyes. He was worse then your dad when it comes to these things. John convinces you to come with him to find Sherlock. What John doesn’t know is that you have your gun on you (apparently you hid it incredibly well that the airport x-ray machine didn’t find it.) Now unbeknownst to you John also has a gun on him. That is a little awkward when the two of you pull out your guns and shoot at the same time. Each bullet gets dangerously close to the cabbie/killer’s heart.

“When and where did you learn how to shoot?!” John asks as the two of you get out of the building, so the police wouldn’t be too suspicious.

“I’ve been using firearms for a very long time. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Ah.” You have to laugh at Sherlock and his strange relationship with a blanket.

“Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me.” You overhear Sherlock tell Lestrade.

“Yeah, it’s for shock.” Lestrade answers.

“I’m not in shock.”

“Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs.”

“So, the shooter or shooters. No sign?”

“Cleared off before we got here.” Lestrade starts going on a little bit before he shrugs while saying: “Got nothing to go on.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Okay, give me.” Sherlock lowers his voice so you can’t hear what is being said.

“Actually you know what ignore me.” Sherlock says loud enough you can hear the conversation again.

“Sorry?” Lestrade replies.

“Ignore all of that. It’s just the, er, the shock talking.” Sherlock then starts to walk over to you and John.

“Where’re you going?”

“I just need to talk about the-the rent.”

“But I’ve still got questions!”

“Oh, what now? I’m in shock! Look, I’ve got a blanket!” You start laughing at that comment.


“And I just caught you a serial killer… more or less.” When Sherlock walks over to you and John he says in a very soft voice “Nice shot.”

The three of you start talking and walking away from the crime scene, John notices Mycroft and points him out to Sherlock. That was an interesting conversation to say in the least. When you get back to 221b Baker Street you create a group chat with Sam and Katie.

‘You wouldn’t believe the day I just had.’ You send.

‘What happened (nickname)?’ Sam asks in response.

‘Please tell me that you didn’t get hurt.’ Katie adds in. You lightly chuckle to yourself.

‘I’m not hurt. However I did help Sherlock (one of my roommates) catch a serial killer… might’ve shot said serial killer though.’

‘Okay start at the beginning- I want to know the whole story.’

'As do I.’ With that you then start telling your brother and sister about your day.
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Thanks Katie for letting me basically turn you into a character.



Before I start, I will just like to tell you that this story is somewhat inspired from the classic show Friends. It will revolve around the life of 8 friends with different personalities and how their lives intervene around each other. I will try to make it a rom-com only with a bit of drama of course.

And so here are the main character’s:

Natsu Dragoneel: Age-23

Lucy Heartfila: Age-23

Gray Fullbuster: Age- 24

Juvia Lockser: Age-22

Jellal Fernandes: Age-25

Erza Scarlet: Age- 23

Sting Eucliffe : Age-23

Yukino Agria: Age-23

Parings included: Nalu, Gruvia, Jerza, Stingyu


“I will like Irish coffee with some extra whipped vanilla cream on top.”

The light blue haired girl ordered politely as the waiter nodded and went off to fetch her coffee. She sighed and wiped off her head as she slumped on the dusky red couch.

“Hey Yukino! I knew I will find you here.”

Her sweet slumber was shattered by the loud masculine voice as she slightly rose from the couch and rolled her eyes on seeing her friend Natsu. Well duh, no surprise that he was free at 11:34 am in the morning.

Too bad, that she too have joined his club of unemployment now.

“Natsu! How did you know I was fired?”

She asked him once he was settled besides her on the couch as he grinned cheekily and said.

“Well..ahem, I have a date tonight and I needed your opinion as which restaurant have best Spanish food. As you know, she is a Spanish model. So..I called at your workplace, since your cellphone was switched off and that guy told me. So I figured you will be here.”

He shrugged casually as he got comfortable on his seat. Yukino chuckled weakly as it never failed to surprise her how her friend can speak that much without a break.

“So what happened exactly?”

Natsu asked while taking a bite from the chocolate chip cookies lying on the table. Apparently he didn’t care enough that is was a leftover. Yukino rolled her eyes as she was all too familiar with his habit. When it came to food, he would eat just about anything.

She cleared her throat as she turned to face him and said.

“Well You remember how I told you me and this other cook Stacy never got along.”

“Oh ya, that hot brunette with boob job.”

Yukino gave him a dirty look as Natsu prompted her to continue.

“Well so guess what, she have been sleeping with the restaurant manager as I walked into them doing it right on the kitchen rack. So..well as it is the policy that You Can’t have Sex with your co-worker or your hired chefs of course, He fired me, lest I told anyone.”

She finished with a scowl as Natsu gave her a sympathic look.

“Aww come here, you cute little bunny!”

He engulfed her in a hug as he patted her head comfortingly.

“Natsu, What did I tell you about calling me by that name?”

Yukino muttered as Natsu let her go and pouted.

“Well you don’t say anything when your sister calls you that.”

She huffed in disbelief at her friend’s immaturity.


Gray Fullbuster flashed his charming lady-killer smile at the blonde while she narrowed her eyes at him and looked away.

He was currently sitting in the local train from Magnolia to Crocus and he have been trying to catch attention of the particularly attractive lady sitting besides him but all in vain. This was the first time a girl rejected his advances and he was starting to feel low.

He was already regretting not taking his Porsche. Gray was the son of well known scientist Silver Fullbuster and he was a researcher himself. He was quite popular in city so it was really strange that she didn’t recognise him.

He cleared his throat to get the attention of the girl as she knitted her eyebrows in irritation and turned towards him.


She shot out bitterly as he smirked.

“Well, I am Gray Fullbuster. I hope you might recognise me…from..”

“Those fashion magazines, Cosmos, A Playboy, Womanizer, Self-centered cocky bastard. Yes, I do.”

She replied smartly and turned her attention back to her book while Gary was clearly taken aback by her attitude.

So..she wants to play it that way. Fine.

“Do you talk to all attractive men this rudely or Are you a lesbian?”

She gritted her teeth as she once again faced him while the train halted, indicating it has reached its destination.

“I don’t find you clearly that attractive and secondly, I would prefer being a lesbian than hit on by an arrogant jerk like you.”

She sweetly replied before getting up and off the train as Gary remained glued to his seat.

‘Fiery girl huh…he liked the challenge..’

He was in the city for next two days for a conference. It won’t be that hard to find that girl as he have his resources. Atleast he learned her name when he peeked into her ticket.

Lucy Heartfilia.



Juvia Lockser was not used to simply sleeping with the people she barely knew. But she sure made an exception this time. She leaned on her elbows and looked at her companion who was snoring and she had a sudden urge to pinch his cheeks as he appeared really innocent that time.

She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and got up as she picked her scattered clothes from the ground.

She heard a rustling sound just in time as she was dressed fully.

“Leaving huh..?”

She turned around just to find him sitting lazily and rubbing his eyes as he yawned. Juvia almost drooled at his muscular abs and strong shoulders but gained her composure once she find out he was staring right back at her.

She cleared her throat as she avoided his eyes and spoke.

“We had a great time last night. But I broke up with my boyfriend last month So I am not looking for a relation right now. It was just a heat of moment thing. I hope you understand Mr…uhh..”


He finished for her as she laughed nervously.

“Ohh…Yes that’s right. I mean I didn’t forget your name or anything…”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to give an explanation for everything.”

He assured her as he flipped his hairs and pulled over his pants and shirt.

She smiled and nodded as he walked towards her and extended his hand.

“It was nice meeting you Ms. Juvia.”

She politely shook it as she grinned.

“You too Sting, and I am very thankful that you were so understanding. Its just…when I broke up with Bora, I..”

Juiva started to sob as Sting scratched his neck and offered her his hand.

“Well why don’t we head out and have some hamburger and coke huh..As friends?”

Juvia meekly agreed as she wiped off her eyes and followed him outside.


"Yes Natsu I will. Why don’t you give the phone back to Yukino?”

Erza groaned as she pleaded her cousin . There was some shuffling and some cursing and shouting before she finally heard her best friend.

“Yukino! I was hoping you could lend me your red halter top for tonight… You see I have a date with this hot Physics teacher I told you about…you will…Thank you sweetie.”

She pumped her hands victoriously as she hung up the phone.

Erza Scarlet was English teacher in the high school. She was quite intelligent and was also doing her PHD for getting a lecturer job in University.

She have known Yukino through her cousin Natsu as they went to high school together. She first met her when she came to his house for vacation. Both the girls hit it off really well and since then she, Yukino, Natsu and Gray were best friends.

Gray was Natsu’s neighbour and his best friend. Although they both used to fight day and night, but they clearly cared about each other.



Jellal Fernandes was not usually seen outside the kindergarten, but it have become his habit since last three months. Ever since his…


He smiled as he saw his four year old daughter Wendy running towards him on her tiny foot. Her bag swayed on her shoulders as she ran with a toothy grin.

Wendy was his world. His everything. He have just enrolled her in the school as she turned four a while back. People were always surprised to find that he was a Dad at such a young age. He haven’t planned her. But he can’t complain either. She was his and Ultear’s daughter. His girlfriend in college. Ultear have passed away after she gave birth to Wendy. He was in depression for a long time but he realised that he needed to be there for their daughter. Ur, Ultear’s mom was quite helpful and took good care of her granddaughter when he wasn’t around.

Jellal was a well known doctor in the city. Both he and Ultear were doing their medical when she died.

Jellal picked his little girl up as she placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and he trotted back towards his car.


I made Gray womaniser here..I always liked the idea of him being one. I put the Sting and Yukino pairing as I really like their pairing. I also made Yukino and Natsu good friends since I liked the way he cared about her during GMG arc..Erza and Natsu both have similar kind of hairs so I made them

And with Sting and Juvia, don’t worry they won’t be a pairing. They all are adults here and are certainly not virgins so sex won’t be a big deal here.


Bullet Proof- Chapter 8

Hey guys, here is chapter 8. I have now planned out how this fic is gonna end. I have thought about having other multi-chapter fics in this universe and some dabbles. I might do that if people are interested. As always thanks to @jordan202​ for the support and taking time out of her busy life every week to proof read this!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“So Detective Hunt, what are your plans today?”

Owen smiled at Amelia’s suggestive question. Her arms were still around his neck and they were inches apart. “Well Dr. Shepherd, I was planning on making the beautiful woman standing in my bedroom breakfast, and then spend the day getting to know all about her. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds perfect,” she replied inching her head towards his.

He closed the gap between them and captured her lips in a kiss. She opened her mouth allowing him entrance and their tongues battled for control. His hands found their way towards her waist and he pulled her closer, leaving no space between them. Her hands threaded through his hair and he let out a low moan when she rocked her hips against him. One of his hands on her waist roamed upwards and under her top. They both felt a shiver when his hand touched her skin. Amelia’s hands grabbed the collar of his shirt using it to pull him closer. Owen’s hands grabbed the hem of her shirt and he was in the process of pulling it off when a sound broke them out of their trance. It was her cell phone, they both groaned, their moment being ruined.

“Ignore it,” he whispered into her hair. Thankfully she listened to him and resumed their kiss. Unfortunately they were interrupted again by a vibration coming from Owen’s pocket.

“Is that a phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Amelia joked.

Keep reading

Bad Reputation (Part Eight) - Oliver Wood Imagine

A/N: hello everyooooone! I’m baaaack! hahahaha honestly guys the response this story is getting is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! you guys are more than awesome for liking it so much! :D and here’s part eight! idk why my chapters keep getting longer and longer so if it becomes annoying tell me and I’ll make them shorter ;) alright, here we go! :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter! :D

Your name: submit What is this?

Bad Reputation

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 9] [Part 10[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13[Part 14]

(Y/N) snapped her head up from her book when she noticed someone sitting in front of her. Well, not someone; some ones.

“Did I do or say anything last time I saw you to make you think this was okay?” she asked glaring at none other than the famous Weasley twins smirking back at her.

“Why dear, (Y/N), we expected a bit more gratitude on your side” Fred said offended.

“We did take you to Hogsmeade, after all, or have you forgotten that?” George continued equally hurt.

“I said thank you and gave you guys Honeydukes candy” she defended herself. “That doesn’t mean you can seat with me.”

“You don’t mind when Oliver does it” George stated.

“I don’t mind Oliver’s company” she said smirking at them.

“Noticed that, George?” Fred asked.

“Mhm, Oliver, not Wood” George pointed out. “Interesting” they finished together wiping the smirk off (Y/N)’s face.

“Is there a point of this whole scene or can I go back to my book?”

“Glad you asked” they said at the same time. “We have noticed you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with our friend Oliver” George said with a sly smirk.

“Of course I am, he’s my mentor” she said rolling her eyes.

“And is that all he is?” Fred said as both twins raised their eyebrows at the witch in front of them.

“Well… yeah” she said trying to sound sure but failing.

“Do you believe that, Georgie?”

“Not for a minute, Freddie” George replied both smirks back on.

“See, we believe that you actually fancy our dear Oliver Wood” Fred said making (Y/N) choke a little on her pumpkin juice.

“W-what? That is the stupidest thing I have ever h-heard” she said with a nervous laugh. Shit.

Keep reading


AN: Because I’ve been needing to write some Ava’s Demon fanfiction, and Flaming Arrow is cute.


“You’re about our size,” Raven smiled, “so I’ll lend you a pair of my pajamas—”

“—And you can have one of my old outfits,” Crow finished.

Ava accepted both sets of clothes gratefully.  Her own dress was falling apart, she only managed to stay decent with the help of Odin’s jacket.

“The bathroom’s through here.”  Crow hit a button on the wall, opening the door to a comfortably small shower and toilet.  “The water processors work, everyone is allowed one shower a day.  We usually soak in the hot springs, but you’re probably pretty tired.”

Hot springs?  Real hot springs sounded fascinating, but Ava agreed that she was exhausted.  Peeking into the bathroom, she managed a soft, “Thank you both…”

“Oh!”  Raven suddenly piped up in realization.  “We still need to get you a toothbrush, razors and soap!”

Ava blinked at this, having noticed the very things Raven had mentioned were already in the shower with some gratitude and curiosity.  “Um…”

“We’ll bring a toothbrush later,” Crow sighed, “but you’ll have to use Odin’s shampoo and razor for now.”

“Odin?”  Ava blinked at the older Arrow’s name.  “Was this his room before?”

The twins stopped, their purple eyes glancing from Ava, to each other, and back again.  Together, they answered, “This is Odin’s room right now.”

That sent the redhead’s heart—wherever it was now—racing like a rabbit’s.  Her face glowed warm with confusion and embarrassment.  “Wait, why-why am I staying in Odin’s room?”

“Because he brought you here,” Crow answered.

Raven nodded, “You’re his responsibility.”

Ava felt her face grow hotter, and not just from embarrassment.  The suggestion of being anybody’s responsibility, as if she were a child—or worse, a pet—was infuriating.  It must have shown, because the twins started to look nervous.

“Didn’t Odin explain it to you?”  Raven asked meekly.

“No, he didn’t,” Ava sighed, trying to cool down.  “Why don’t you explain it to me now?”

“It’s how we do things with newcomers,” Crow told her, trying not to sound hasty with the explanation.  “Though, really, everyone rooms together.  There’s only so much space between everyone here, and we use every inch of it to conserve what can before we before we decide to set up a new hovel.”

The sudden understanding that there was only a small table in one corner, a desk in the other, and a queen-sized bed against the middle of one wall suddenly served to flare Ava up more. 

“Right!  So!  Just holler if you need anything, Ava!”  The sisters hurried out before the fiery teen could stop them.

Alone, Ava stared at the only bed in the room.  Curious.  Accusing.  Terrified.


After he was given a stern lecture by Olai and the others, Odin was looking forward to a well-deserved sleep.  He was ready to forgo dinner with the siren song of his pillows and blankets beckoning him back to the sanctuary that was his room.

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting to find a particular redhead sitting at his desk at the far end of the room, clutching one of his pillows to her front, glaring at him like an angry lava rabbit.

“Um…hi?”  Odin blinked.  “What-what are y-you do-doing here?”

“You tell me,” Ava growled.  She looked refreshed from a recent shower—her hair still damp, dressed in Raven’s old night clothes—and less than pleased.  “Apparently, I’m your responsibility.”

Odin was confused at first.  Then he remembered and hid his face in one hand with a loud groan.  He had expected Ava to stay with Gil and Maggie in one of the older units, but he could guess that Raven and Crow had intercepted and brought the redhead to his room instead.

“Dammit, I d-didn’t…!”  Sighing, his violet eyes reluctantly met Ava’s red.  “S-sorry, the girls j-just…misunderstood.”

“What, exactly?”  Ava pried darkly.

Odin rubbed the back of his neck nervously, glancing back out his open door in the hopes that someone else might come and explain things for him.  Neither of them were going to enjoy this particular conversation.

“O-okay, s-so.  There are o-only a few families h-here, m-mostly all re-related by now,” he told her, moving to stand near his small dining table.  “Usually, when s-s-singles bring someone b-back, it’s to…” Odin trailed off with a nervous cough.  “N-newcomers are…u-usually the…n-new husbands o-or wives of-of the s-singles who brought th-them here.  S-so the rules ha-have them room t-together…”

Ava had no spoken or moved throughout Odin’s explanation.  But her grip was slowly burning the pillow, showing his words had done the opposite of soothe the girl’s feelings.

“I’m not your wife,” Ava finally said through clenched teeth.  Sharp, clenched teeth.

“No, you’re not,” Odin sighed.

“Which is stupid,” Crow piped up from the doorway.  “You’re way better than his first pic—”

“Crow!  D-Don’t eavesdrop!”  Odin jumped up.

Crow shoved a small tray of food into his stomach.  “First, I was bringing Ava some dinner.  Second, close the damn door if you don’t want people to hear your conversations.  Third—”

Odin took the tray, shutting and locking the door in his sister’s face before she could carry it any further.  Setting the food down on his table, he once again looked back at the redhead with some amount of reluctance, unsure of just how he could go about easing her discomfort.  He was surprised to find her fiery complexion had dimmed somewhat, her grip relaxing and leaving the lightly singed pillow in her lap.

“So…” She finally spoke, soft and oddly sad.  “So, originally, Maggie was supposed to room with you…”

It wasn’t a question.  Odin flinched only slightly, but his insides made a horribly unpleasant lurch at the observation he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Accepting his silence, Ava stood up and dropped her pillow to the floor before kneeling down.  She settled herself with her back to Odin and the bed.

Blinking, he asked, “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Going to sleep, I’m tired,” she answered flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Y-you can take the bed,” he told her as he moved the food tray more securely on the table.  It was fine the way it was, he just wanted some sort of diversion, no matter how brief or weak.  “I’ll s-sleep on th-the floor.”

“This is fine,” the redhead sighed.

Seeing she was set on this, Odin took the remaining pillow before pulling off the top blanket.  Once it was freed from the mattress, he tossed it away to land on Ava.  She sat up immediately, flailing somewhat to escape the blanket’s clutches.  She got her head free just in time to see the lights go out and Odin drop down to the floor on the other side of the bed.

“Why aren’t you sleeping on the bed?”  Ava asked, peering over the mattress, just barely catching sight of the older boy’s shoulder in the dark.

“Wh-what kind of l-loser sleeps in a b-bed, when th-there’s a girl sl-sleeping on the fl-floor?”  Odin waved.  “Good night.”


Ava stared through the shadows at him while longer.  Odin’s breathing slowed as he relaxed, though she doubted he was asleep that fast.  But after a while, she laid back down on the pillow and bundled up in the blanket, deciding to try and sleep.

The blanket, like his jacket, smelled like smoke, pine trees and whatever it was he smoked.  It was a nice, soothing smell, but she found she couldn’t relax.  It was impossible, knowing there was someone else in the room.  What’s more, a boy, whom she was supposed to share this room with until further notice.  She could just imagine what Maggie would say, how Gil would look at her.  Neither would be very nice.

But as uncomfortable as the situation was, she was just too tired to fight sleep the whole night.  Eventually, though it was a long time, Ava drifted off.


Small-shiny-dark space.


Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t scream.

Couldn’t feel anything.  Not even the cold.

There were pieces of the girl at her feet.

She didn’t want to look up.  Didn’t want to see.

But she knew, she knew her own face was falling right off her bones.

She saw what little of herself existed fall to the floor.


Ava pulled her voice from that faraway place it had been stolen to and screamed.  She screamed until her ears hurt.  Suddenly, it wasn’t dark anymore.  Her eyes hurt at the abrupt change, and her voice gradually died as she woke up a second time.  She heard someone calling her name.  She felt someone’s hands on her shoulders.


She was shaken once more as her vision started to clear.  The dark blur in front of her took shape of the dark boy and his bedroom.  Unfamiliar, but very much alive.  TITAN HQ had been cold and sterile.  The container-machine she had been trapped inside was even more so.  But this place was alive, safe.

Ava hastily felt her face for the incisions that rendered flesh and bone from nerve, and was relieved when she could feel her skin, smooth and whole.  But the sudden realization of hot tears trailing down her cheeks woke her up the rest of the way.

Odin still held her arms in an almost painful grip, concern and something like terror written across his sharp features.  Ava then noted the orangey-red glow to his otherwise pale skin, and looked at her hands to find she was glowing again.  But more than just glowing, she realized that the blanket she held in a near-death grip was actually burning ferociously.

“Ah!”  She hastily let go of the heavy fabric, shaking her hands out of instinctive panic upon releasing the small blaze.  No wonder Odin woke up.  Her screaming aside, she was surprised she hadn’t set off a fire alarm.

Seeing that she was herself again, Odin hurried to the table to grab the glass of whatever Crow had brought with Ava’s dinner earlier and threw it on the fire.  An oddly wretched hiss marked the death of the flames and the room was filled with smoke.  Coughing, he then opened his windows to allow the vapors to escape and pleasant night breeze to enter.

“Wh-what was that?”  Odin turned to look back her, his panic still fresh as he tried to catch his breath.

Ava had always had the occasional night terror, thanks to Wrathia.  Back at school, she had been given her own room at the dormitory because, after a while, no one could stand rooming with her and her inconstant fits.  Because of her Pact with Wrathia, Ava had assumed she couldn’t have nightmares anymore, since the two could meet while she was asleep.  But there was brand new fuel to throw on the fire of her screwed up psyche now.  And she was certain Odin wouldn’t want anything more to do with her after this lovely mess.

Swallowing, choking, hiccupping, Ava used the sleeve of her borrowed pajamas to try and dry her face.  But her tears wouldn’t stop.  Hot, salty water just kept flowing.  Certain she was annoying Odin with her antics, as well as her failure to answer, she took a hard breath.

“S-s-sor-s-sorry!”  She finally managed to throw out amidst her trembling and choking.  “I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to!  I’ll be quiet now!  I’m sorry!”

Ava started to roll over to hide under her soaked, burnt blanket, hoping that they could just turn the lights off and go back to sleep.  But Odin caught her hand as she grabbed the covers and pulled her back.  She braced herself for the blow or shouting that usually followed one of her normal nightmares, knowing that this was going to be worse.

So there was only incredible astonishment when Odin sat her down on the bed beside him and set a bottle of water from his personal stash in her hands.  While the plastic container wasn’t ice-cold, the cooler feel of it in her trembling fingers was enough to shock her into relative stillness.  With tearful eyes, she just stared at it for a long while, before slowly turning to look up at Odin.

The older, dark-haired boy looked less frantic than before.  Sitting beside her, while still somewhat uncertain, he was the picture of patience.  He didn’t poke or prod.  He just sat there.  Waiting.

Before, all of her previous dorm-mates had gotten mad at her for waking them up, thrown things or yelled at her.  This was the first time anyone had allowed her the space and consideration to collect herself.  That was enough to send her crying again.  While not as hysterically as before, she felt some ball of messed up feelings unwind at his silence and concern.

“It-it was…supposed to be me!”  She sobbed.  “It was going to be me!  But because she was in there, I was saved! I can’t die but-but she—There were pieces of her everywhere!  There was nothing left!  And then—then—”

Odin didn’t ask what she meant.  He didn’t really have to.  He didn’t really want to. 

“I didn’t even know her name…!” She hid her face against the bottle in her hands as she struggled to stop her crying.  “I’m sorry…!  I’m sorry…!  I just…!”  She sobbed harder than she thought possible.  “My head is a mess!  I feel like I’m still inside that thing!  I’m pieces on the floor!  I don’t—”

Ava was stunned when she felt Odin put his arm around her shoulder and lightly pull her closer.  Her tear-soaked face met his shirt, and she knew it must have hurt him just a little to touch her at all, but her held her gently.  The touch of another person was so alien to her, she wanted to pull away.  But she couldn’t help leaning closer, seeking comfort in his arms.  But not even Odin’s warmth combined with the fire in her own veins could chase away the chill that kept her trembling.

Odin didn’t have any answers than she did.  All he could do was sit beside her as she let loose her fear and utter despair.

And that’s what he did.  Until her choking sobs died down to whimpers and hiccups.  Until her grip on his shirt loosed slightly as she gathered herself.  Until they both drifted off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.


The next morning, the twins went to wake Odin and Ava.  The door was locked, but Raven had brought her copy of Odin’s key card.  Opening the door just a little, they peeked their heads inside and peered around the room.

They shouldn’t have been surprised to find their brother and his fiery companion in the same place.  After all, there was only one bed in the room. 

@rebeccacourt30 requested: an au where the angels fall and Castiel is sick so Dean brings him home, then Cas starts bringing cats home?

Dean Smith walked out of the Sandover building, staring down at his phone. He was half thinking about stopping to pick something up for dinner when he heard a string of harsh coughs coming from the ally beside the parking lot.

Normally, he would have picked up the pace to his car, but something told him to follow the sound. In the farthest corner a man was curled in on himself, shivering horribly. Dean cleared his throat and he looked up, showing the dark bruises on his face, but more importantly his brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked. The man started to nodded, then another coughing fit started up. Dean flinched at the sound.

“Can I take you to a hospital?”

“There’s nothing a doctor can do for me,” The man said, softly. Dean was about to ask why when he saw the wings protruding from the mans back.

“You’re one of the angels,” He whispered in amazement. He remembered hearing about the fall on several radio stations a few months before, but he assumed it was all a hoax. When images of the creatures started appearing on news sites he figured he’d never meet one.

“Yes,” The man said. “Thank you for your kindness, but I–”

“Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

They stared at each other, both shocked by the question.

“I couldn’t,” The angel said.

“I insist,” Dean argued. “It’s going to snow tonight and you already look half way to death. I won’t be able to rest if I don’t help you.” The angel studied him for a moment before nodding slowly.

“If it will ease your mind. Thank you.”

Dean helped him up and let him lean against his shoulder as the walked to the car. Dean cranked the heat up and the angel put his hands against the vents.

“Can I ask your name?” Dean asked after a few minutes.

“I am Castiel.”


“Thank you for your kindness, Dean. There are not many that would offer their home to one of my kind.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean paused. Half an hour ago he was one of those people. “You’re welcome.”

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. After he asked in his usual place at his apartment building, Dean got out of the car and went to help Castiel. His clothes and wings had left dirty marks all over Dean’s passenger seat, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Are you hungry? I don’t have a lot here, but I could order you something if you’d like.”

“No, thank you Dean,” Castiel said. Dean looked at him saw that he was looking apprehensivly at the white carpet and furniture, tugging at his own dirty clothes.

“Would you like to take a shower? I can lend you some clothes and wash those for you.” Castiel looked like he was going to turn him down again so Dean nudged him towards the bathroom.

“Seriously man, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

Dean dug a lightly used t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his drawer, then pulled a pair of boxers for the new pack he’d bought the week before. He gave those to Castiel and showed him how to work the shower before leaving him alone.

Despite his saying that he didn’t want anything, Dean decided to order a few things from his favorite places in town. He wasn’t sure what Castiel ate so he wanted to make sure that there were plenty of options. By the time Castiel came back into the kitchen there was a whole spread sitting out on the table and the island.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I–” Dean stopped talking when Castiel dove for a cheeseburger that was sitting in the table. He unwrapped it and scarffed it down in a few bites.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, delicately. “I think I was a bit more hungry than I realized.”

“That’s okay. Help yourself.”

Castiel tried to eat more slowly, but it was obvious that he was starving. Dean ate some, too, so that he wouldn’t feel awkward, promising himself an extra hour at the gym later this week.

When Castiel had his fill they put the left overs in the refrigerator and went into the living room. Dean pulled some papers out of his bag and started going over them. Castiel sat quietly beside him, looking out the window at the city lights. Dean looked up when he shifted and saw that Castiel was running his fingers through the feathers that he could reach, a few came loose and he held them awkwardly.

“Do you need some help?” Dean asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Castiel said, blushing a bit.

“It’s no trouble. I can reach them better than you can.” He reached out and Castiel leaned away.

“The grooming of wings creates a bond that cannot be broken. I cannot force myself upon you like that.”

“I want to help you,” Dean said, without stopping to consider the consequences. What was about this man–this creature–that changed him so drastically?

Slowly, Castiel turned his wings to Dean. The man reached out and delicately ran his fingers through the feathers, amazed by their softness. Something akin to an electric shock ran through Dean’s body. Castiel shivered, feeling the same thing.

Dean straighted the feathers, removing the loose ones and passing them Castiel. Castiel would have an occasional coughing fit and Dean would stop to keep from yanking the feathers. When be was done, Castiel turned to him, smiling shyly.

“Thank you, Dean.” Dean smiled back, then nodded to the feathers in his hands.

“What are you going to do with those?” He asked.

“I typically sell them, if they are clean and straight. There are many shops that promote natural healing and witch craft that are willing to pay a hefty sum for them. Especially the one that have different colors.”

Castiel held one up to the light and Dean saw the different shades of blacks, blues, and purples, occasionally sprinkled with a hint of silver. It reminded Dean of the night sky back in South Dakota, when he and Jo would lay out and look for constellations.

“They’re beautiful,” He finally said. “I’ll go find something for you to keep them in.”

He heard Castiel coughing again while he was in the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of medicine from the cabinet out of habit to give him. He found a basket that Ellen had sent a college care package of homemade cookies and mini desserts in and took it as well.

“That will not help me,” Castiel said, nodding to the medicine and taking the basket. “Angels are not like humans. Sickness is caused by isolation. We’re meant to live in groups. Thank you for your kindness, though.”

Dean watched as he sorted his feathers carefully, the longest on the bottom, the bent and broken sent aside. Dean gave him the wastebin beside the couch to put those in.

“Let me show your bedroom,” He suggested when Castiel was finished. The angel followed him down the hall tonthe room next to his own. There was a bed and dresser with a mirror. The were a few things piled against the far wall that Dean had meant to put into storage. “I know its not much–”

“It is perfect, Dean,” Castiel said, softly. He wandered into the room, picking things up and putting them down. He picked up a picture that Jo had left there on her last visit, one of her and Dean laughing at something out of frame.

“That’s my sister, Jo,” Dean felt the need to explain! Castiel put the photo down.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“Careful there. I may have to go all big brother on you,” Dean warned, teasingly. Castiel looked shocked then nervous.

“I didn’t mean–I don’t find her–I am not interested in women.”

“Relax, Cas. I was just kidding.”


The silence after was awkward. They studied each other for a moment, then Dean cleared his throat.

“Okay, then. I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, again. Dean nodded and stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.


“I’m not sure how long I’ll be at the office,” Dean said the next morning, fixing his suit in the mirror by the door. “I left my number in case you need something and there are plenty of left over in the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

“Are you sure that you want me to stay?”

Dean turned to look at him and saw that he was staring at his feet. He could still see the worst of the bruises on his face and arms. Castiel coughed again, even though Dean could tell he was trying to suppress the sound.

“Yeah, Cas. I want you to stay.”

“Most would not be this kind for nothing,” Castiel said, looking up a little. “Is there something you wish in return?” It took a moment for the meaning of his words to register in Dean’s brain.

“No, Cas. I would never…You need help. I want to help you. You’re welcome here for as long as you want to be here.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel whispered, visibley relaxing. Dean nodded.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

It was raining hard as Dean drove to his office building. As he was navigating through the mess on the roads, he found himself relieved that Castiel was safe at home.


As the weeks passed, Castiel became more and more comfortable with the apartment and Dean. He no longer seemed afraid to sit on the couch or to ask for help when he needed it.

A few days after he moved into the apartment, Dean offered to take him shopping for some clothes that weren’t covered in holes and street grime. Castiel insisted on going to thift shops and local businesses rather that the department stores that Dean preferred. He paid for what he got with the money he made selling his feathers and he looked so happy that Dean couldn’t deny him that.

A few days later he asked Dean to teach him basic human tasks, such as doing laundry and cooking. They became a team in the kitchen and Dean had to admit that he slept much better with a homemade meal in his belly.

Dean started leaving work earlier and earlier, surprising everyone in the office. He was kinder to everyone and even joined a few coworkers for lunch several times rather than sitting alone in his office. One day his boss knocked on his door.

“So,” Mr. Adler said. “Are you going to bring her to the office party next week?”

“Who’s that, sir?” Dean asked, packing his things.

“The woman that has you coming in late and leaving early. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“There is no woman,” Dean said. Adler frowned.

“I see. Well, as you know, Sandover is very accepting of…your kind.” Dean paused and gave Zachariah a hard look. The older man took a step back, just from the fiercness of it.

“I’ll have you know that I am not in a relationship with anyone, and even if I was, it would be none of your concern what ‘kind’ of person I am.”

He tossed his back over shoulder and walked out of his office, taking the stairs because if he had to wait for the elevator, he might have something regrettable.


“I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Dean was half dosing on the couch when Castiel. Even though his words were soft, they hit Dean like he had screamed them.

“What? Why?” Castiel looked at his hands and was quiet for a long time.

“I have had feeling lately that could not properly explain. I used your computer to look up my symptoms.” Dean started to tell him that he couldn’t the internet, and 'I thought you said angels didn’t get sick, any way,’ but Castiel spoke first. “It appears that I am in love with you.”

Dean froze, just staring at the angel. Castiel didn’t look up from his hands.

“I know that you do not return those feelings and I do not wish to force myself or my feelings on you. I am well enough now. I could possibly find a job or–”

Dean cut him off by pressing their lips together. Castiel gasped softly, then relaxed against him. Dean pulled away after a moment and rested his forehead against Castiel’s.

“I love you, too.”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

“You told me that you would never have those feeling for me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dean said, trying to remember saying anything like that.

“You did. The morning after you brought me here. You said you would never–”

“Oh, Cas. That’s not what I meant at all. I meant that I would never make you do something that you didn’t want to do just because I was helping you.” He sat back and took Castiel’s hands into his. “Do you really want this?”

“More than I could ever say.”

“Me, too.” He moved one hand to Castiel’s cheek and kissed him again. “Will you stay?”

“For as long as you want me.” Dean laughed a little and brushed his nose against Castiel’s.

“Just forever, then?”

Dean called in sick the next day. And the next.

The look on Zachariah’s face when they walked into the office party hand in hand was priceless.


“Cas, I’m home!” Dean called, walking into the apartment. Castiel didn’t reply and Dean frowned. “Cas?”

He walked further into the apartment but so no trace on the angel anywhere. He started to panic a bit until he heard shuffling in the guest bedroom.

“You have to be quiet,” He heard Castiel whisper. “We’ll be in big trouble if he finds us. Ow. I told you not to do that.”

Dean pushed the door open and Castiel spun around, closing the door too quickly and catching his wing inside. He whined but didn’t move.

“Hello, Dean. How was your day?” He asked innocently.

“What’s in the closet, Cas?”

“What closet?”

“The closet right behind you.”

“Nothing. A few coat hangers, some of your old things.”

“Castiel.” The angel lowered his head and Dean moved to open the door. Castiel moved his wing away and two kittens chased after it. He stooped to pick one up and rubbed his cheek against its head. The other pounced at his wings causing him to flinch and give it a look.


“I couldn’t leave them on the street,” The angel said. “They were crying and hungry.”

“Cas, we can’t have pets in the building.”

“We can move.”

“I’m allergic to cats.”

“I bought you some allergy medication.”

Dean opened his mouth, looking for another excuse. Normally he’d have a million ready to go, but they died on his tongue when Castiel looked at him with big, sad eyes.

“You took me off the street and saved my life. I couldn’t leave them to die any more than you could have left me. Please, Dean? Don’t make me give them up.”

“Cas–” The angel’s face fell and Dean looked between him and the kittens. His eyes were already starting to water and he could feel the sneezes building up in his nose.

“I guess we’d better give them names?” He asked.

Castiel smiled and placed the kitten on the floor so that he could fling his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Thank you, Dean,” He said, moving to kiss him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean smiled. “Just don’t make a habit of of it.”

“I won’t,” Castiel promised, kissing him again and letting him go. “I have to go get supplies and call a vet…” Castiel talked on as he hurried out of the room. The kittens chased after him, jumping for his feathers. Dean watched them go, shaking his head.

All the sneezing and swollen eyes would be worth it just to see Castiel smile like that every day.

Grumpy Neighbor

Originally posted by martawinchester

Request: hi, could you please do a Derek fluff with 5, 23 and 24, that would be awesome i love your blog 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 

#5: “If you throw that snowball, that means war” + #23: “Thanks for lending me your jacket. It’s…really warm” + #24: “What the hell is in the eggnog? Whiskey?”

Author’s Note: Love this combination! Unfortunately, I feel like this is crap. I’m sorry. I hope it’s better than I think it is. Enjoy

Warnings: Language; fluff; shameless flirting and awkwardness

Tagging @vivirunmillondevidas since you requested this!


“If you throw that snowball, that means war.” Derek warned, finger pointing in a very adult-like manner. Flashing a mischievous grin, I launched my weapon, catching his arm as he tried to move out of the way. “Oh, it is so on!” I squealed, taking off to find cover as he bent down to gather some snow in his hands. 

Having a snowball fight with my grumpy neighbor was definitely the last way I had expected to spend my Christmas Eve.

Derek and I laughed as we launched snow at one another, my clothes soaking through relatively quickly. I finally had to call a truce, the cold too much for my shivering body to handle. 

“You’re freezing,” Derek said, jogging up to me. “Here, take my jacket.” Before I could even think to protest, he was already shrugging it off and placing it on my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I told him, offering a kind a smile, one that he actually returned. I pulled the leather tighter around me, burrowing into the warmth that it offered as we walked into our apartment building, slowly trudging up the stairs to our floor. Derek and I stayed relatively quiet as we went, the silence not quite comfortable and yet not horribly awkward either. Once we reached our neighboring doors, I turned to face him.

“Thanks for lending me your jacket,” I said. “It’s…really warm.” I cringed at myself internally, wishing I had said anything but the obvious. Derek just chuckled, accepting it with a nod.

“No problem.” With a final awkward wave, I moved to head my separate way, but Derek paused in opening his door, brow furrowed as he looked at me. “Would you…maybe like to come in?” I blinked at him a few times, words failing me. Was Derek Hale actually inviting me into his apartment?

“Uh- yeah, sure! Just let me go change first and I’ll be right over,” I told him kindly, nodding my head. He grinned again, those jaw-dropping perfect teeth flashing at me, before opening his door and heading into his place.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, coughing a bit as I eyed the glass in my hand. “What the hell is in the eggnog? Whiskey?” Derek chuckled before taking a drink of his own, cringing at the taste.

“I guess I did make it a little too strong,” he said, setting our glasses down on his coffee table before settling back into the couch. “My mom used to make really great eggnog and I’ve been trying to perfect her recipe for years. Looks like this batch is a bust.”

“Speaking of, why are spending your Christmas Eve sitting on your couch with me instead of with your family? If you don’t mind me asking,” I added, not wanting to put my nose where it didn’t belong. I didn’t know much about him, but if he would share with me I would be more than willing to listen. Derek smiled a bit, but it didn’t reach his eyes, gaze focused on the table in front of us.

“I don’t really have any family to celebrate with,” he finally answered. “They’ve all passed away. And my one remaining sister…well, she lives in South America and we don’t really talk.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Derek,” I told him softly, reaching to place my hand on his arm. He looked up at me then with a small shake of his head.

“No, it’s alright,” he assured. “I’ve made my peace.” Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “What about you? Why are you here sitting on your grumpy neighbor’s couch on Christmas Eve?” I chuckled at his question, bringing my arm back to myself to tuck into my lap.

“Well, my family lives out of state and I just couldn’t afford to fly out this year. So, here I am.” 

Derek and I continued to talk, getting to know each other and just genuinely enjoying the company. I never expected that he could be so sweet and open until now, finding myself pleasantly surprised. Once it started to get late and I decided that I should probably head home, Derek walked me to the door, wishing me a Merry Christmas.

“You know,” I started, catching his attention before he closed his door. “I was still planning on cooking a Christmas dinner tomorrow, but it’s a lot of food for just one person. And it’d be a shame to spend the holiday all by myself. Would you, maybe, want to join me?” I bit my lip nervously, hoping that I hadn’t overstepped any lines, especially after tonight. Thankfully, a smile spread across Derek’s lips and he nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot, Y/N.”

Snow Day (Ichigo/Orihime)

Christmas Prompt: Snow Day
Pairings: Ichigo/Orihime
Word Count:
 T in general

Ichigo had taken another glimpse outside. He had to admit, it was very pretty to look at. And yet, the weatherman on TV wasn’t being shy in pronouncing it was probably the worse in a decade.

For @saintorihime

Warning: Post!Canon, set during the few years in between the timeskip

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Somewhere In Neverland | 05

✒  Didn’t really have the best day, but this was my outlet. Hope y’all like itt :)

“I wanna be your lost boy, your last chance, a better reality.” 

           The other boys, aside from Hanbin, left the apartment when the time on the clock read 11:00 o’clock. Donghyuk had to wake up early the next morning to go look at universities, Junhoe wanted his “beauty sleep”, Chanwoo was seeing his family, and every else was just getting really tired.

           With a hug and a smile, you said goodbye to all of them, and emitted a yawn right after Hanbin shut the door. Bobby turned his head in your direction and furrowed his eyebrows. “Going to bed now?” he asked.

           You nodded. “That’s enough for me.” You thanked Hanbin again for letting you guys crash there, and then you disappeared into a room he directed you to.

           That left Hanbin and Bobby outside, and Hanbin still had a whole lot to say to the other boy, but he figured he’d call it a night and just head to his room too.

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