Author’s Note: I know it has been a very long time since I have written anything. The year has been long and difficult, and my inspiration severely lacked. I took advantage of it when it suddenly sprang forth and wrote this Benny fic for ya’ll. I have a lot of goodies coming up, so keep an eye out!
Summary: After a long hunt, the reader returns home to find her favorite vampire in bad shape.
Word Count: 3252. I’m not even sorry.
Warnings: Fluff. So much FLUFF. It’s so fluffy you are gonna die. (I hope not. Please don’t.)
Sliding sluggishly in the driver’s seat, you dropped your head back against the headrest. You let out a quiet sigh and wiped the sweat from your forehead, staring lazily at the small farmhouse in front of you where you had just spent the entire afternoon in a stake out. When you had heard of suspicious monster activity two states away with the victims being left with their throats ripped open and their blood completely drained from their bodies, you immediately snagged the job. With monster activity being strangely scarce as of late, you didn’t expect the hunt to take more than a couple of days, and had your stuff packed and were on the road within an hour.
((Hey guys, we’re back! More Hellos! This time from Benny. I read it in a Cajun accent, though some words don’t translate well when you type them. So imagine it in Benny’s accent! That said, tagging the usual suspects. Remember to reblog tagging those who need love and words of encouragement! Enjoy :)
“Hey, gorgeous. I hope you don’ mind me takin’ a minute to come talk to you. I know you’re a busy woman, probably got men beatin’ down your door tryin’a talk to you. You don’ think so? Ah, hell, then we see things pretty different. Don’ mean that to be rude, chere, I’m just bein’ honest. I see a woman like you an’ I know without a doubt you got folks beggin’ for your time whether you wanna see it or not.
I am trying to get back in the swing of writing, and decided to open requests. Please don’t be shy to request a SPN fic! The only thing I ask that you do not request smut, because I do not write those. Just send it through the ‘ask’!
AN: @doctordeanscompanion requested some fluff with either Crowley or Lucifer. Since I love her so much, I’m gonna do both for her. Crowley first, which means I also gotta tag @devsfan55 ‘cause she’s in love with him too. Enjoy, my lovelies!
You pace between two dingy motel beds, muttering to yourself and clenching your fists. “I can’t believe it,” you say to what you believe is an empty room.
“Can’t believe what, darling?” a silky voice asks from the corner. You jump slightly, looking over to see the King of Hell standing there. “Moose and Squirrel leave you on your own again?”
“Yes, they did! And without even so much as a goodbye! Just up and left while I was sleeping, with only ‘gone on a hunt’ scrawled on a piece of paper for a note.”
Crowley shakes his head. “Morons. Their loss, though.” He moves closer to you and holds out his hand. “Would you like to see what the King can do for those left behind?”
You consider for a moment, then shrug and take his hand. “Sure, why not?” With a snap, the two of you are in an Italian opera house just as the show is about to start. Your eyes are wide as you look at the demon, and he smirks as if to say that this is only the beginning.
And truly it is. You spend the rest of the day whisked around from place to place, from the opera to a French bakery to the beaches of Hawaii to the markets of Mumbai. But you had to say that your favorite place came in the evening. The pair of you appear in front of a log cabin on the edge of a fjord in Norway, suddenly wrapped in warm winter clothing. Snow softly drifts down around you, the setting sun tinging the edges of the snowflakes with pink and orange. It’s so quiet you can almost hear the flakes as they hit the ground, and your soft gasp at the beauty of it all sounds loud and harsh in your ears.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Crowley whispers. You can only nod as you take in the sunset over the ocean and the slowly accumulating snow. “Come, darling,” he says after a while when he notices you shivering in the fading light. “Let’s go inside.” He takes you into the cabin and redresses you both in warm pajamas and dressing gowns before leading you to sit by a roaring fire in the fireplace.
As he hands you a mug of hot chocolate, you ask, “Why’d you do this for me, Crowley?”
“I thought my favorite huntress deserved to be spoiled,” he answers with a small smile. “Especially after being neglected in such a way by the other men in her life.”
“Favorite huntress, hmm?” You hide a smile by taking a sip of your cocoa.
“The only one I take on dates that span the globe.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Dates?”
He smirks. “Of course, love. You didn’t think I’d do all this and not intend to ask you to be mine, now did you?” Your eyes go wide and as he leans in to kiss you, you wonder if it would really be all that bad to date the King of Hell. Especially when he was so willing to pamper you like this.
(Our favorite King of Hell has a few words. A thank you to @deerlululucy for helping me pick Crowley. I know a few of you have been asking for the King, so here he is. Remember to share the words with those who need a reminder of how glorious they are.
“Hello, darling. Spoke with Squirrel recently, told me some rather upsetting news. Word on the street is you’re not so confident with yourself these days. Now, normally I don’t like to admit faults, but this surprises me.
Author’s Note: Requested by @kazchester-fanfiction. Normally I don’t write reader fics; they aren’t my style and its something I tend to struggle with, but I am always willing to write a fic for a friend! My apologies if this is not-so-good; I do not have practice with reader fics and often feel conflicted, and I’ve been out of touch with Gadreel for a while, I am ashamed to say. Hopefully I have captured him appropriately though!
Here you are, Mandy! You wanted angst, and I gave you angst. You can thank @rowdyhooliganism for the idea. ;)
Word Count: 1906
Warnings: Blood; description of death, adorable fluff at the end!
You were always told
that you would be the death of yourself. It was a saying you didn’t mind too
much. After all, it was only a joke and honestly, you never paid too much
attention to it. The very minor
injuries you have sustained in your lifetime was not even remotely related, nor
did it count. You were a hunter, and have been one ever since a demon snuck in
your home one night when you were young and murdered your family. Injuries had
long become an expectation, and it did not come to as a surprise whenever you
discovered a new cut or bruise on your arm after a hunt. Caution was never an
expertise of yours; alone and making do, coming across friends and making
plenty of enemies, to be careful wasn’t something you did. It wasn’t
intentional; danger simply found you first. However, it was a life you were
content with. It was your life, and you were perfectly fine where you were; and
although it meant finding love and settling down like you once desired, and at
one time, desperately longed for, was never going to be a dream come true, but
as the years grew you came to accept it and live a mostly happy life.
Here's a he for you. Imagine Harry giving Eggsy a massage, whether during a relationship or not, and Eggsy just turning into a giant puddle. Then Eggsy reads/watches videos and studies as much as he can so he can return the favor.
Asdjfhjksdhf absolutely yes oh man!!
Eggsy genuinely does want to return the favor, but it’s also an excuse to get his hands on Harry, to touch him in some way - Eggsy’s halfway into falling in love and he’s touch-starved and always craves Harry’s attention. Between Eggsy’s continued training and the missions they’re both sent on, there aren’t as many opportunities as he wishes there would be - so an excuse, any excuse is a welcome opportunity.
He fantasizes, as he rubs Harry’s clothed shoulders, about unbuckling his shoulder holsters and peeling him out of his French shirts and pressing him into the wall, anchoring Harry with his hands - or maybe Harry’s got him against the wall, using his broad shoulders to pin Eggsy in place - or maybe Eggsy’s got his hands on Harry’s shoulders as Harry fucks into him, clinging as best he can under the rugged force of it.
And he’s snapped out of his fantasies by Harry making a low, dark sound in his throat, something perilously close to a groan as Eggsy keeps rubbing his shoulders, digs his fingers into the meat of them and smooths out the knots - and it’s really not appropriate to pop a stiffy while giving a massage, though it’s apparently somewhat normal to get hard while receiving, and there’s no way Eggsy can surreptitiously glance at Harry’s lap from over his shoulder without being quite obvious about it.
But that’s only the first time - the second time Harry’s breath hitches just as Eggsy’s warm hands make contact with his shoulders, and the third time he does make a bitten-off groan, and the time after that he stills Eggsy’s hands on his shoulders just as he starts to work the corded muscle at the nape of Harry’s neck, and for the first time since his first time, Harry offers to rub Eggsy’s shoulders again instead of the other way around.
Eggsy, unlike Harry, really can’t keep any semblance of control when Harry’s hands are on him, is hard and practically moaning only minutes in - and, well. Harry’s shoulders turn out to be great for holding on to, for snogging and quite a bit more, when Eggsy licks his lips and dips his head and tells Harry don’t stop there.
Your healing Cas' heart op is absolutely gorgeous. Wonderful idea and beautiful execution!
Oh thank you *blushes* It’s Misha’s expression that really pulls it off, though. :3 I feel like I didn’t even really give him that much to go on because you have to rush through it so quickly but the whole pose pretty much turned out exactly how I had pictured it in my head. It was definitely my favorite photo op of the weekend. :D Especially since I got to touch his trench coat! (´▽`ʃƪ)