khaki trench

Of Use to You

“What the hell were you thinking, man!?”  Dean bellows, fist knotted firmly in the lapel of his trench.  “Disappearin’ off for three weeks, no phone calls, no texts, no nothing?  Again!?  Dammit, Cas, we already covered why you can’t do that!” 

Cas swallows, looking sheepishly down at his dress shoes.  He wishes he could make Dean understand the existential guilt he feels for not being good enough, for failing so often and causing so much trouble.  He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“I only wanted to help, Dean,” he argues softly.  “I wish to be of service to you, to the greater good, and the best way I know how is sometimes in Heaven.”

“Oh, so you want to help?”  Dean inquires, nodding sarcastically.  “Is that it, Cas?  Really?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas whispers.  He feels childish for feeling so close to tears.

Dean lets out an exasperate huff, releasing the lapel of his coat.  “Well, that’s just peachy, Cas.  ‘Cause from where I stand, you’re so desperate to get away from us that you’re willing to run back into your dick family’s open arms just to get there.” 

Cas stares at him incredulously, eyes wide.  “No, Dean!  That isn’t true.  I swear with every fiber of my being, on the name of my Heavenly Father, that I only want to be here with you.”

“So who the hell’s stoppin’ ya?”  Dean scoffs, arms folded dubiously.

I am!”  Cas cries, feeling frustrated to the point of tears that he can’t make Dean understand.  “I…I fail so much, Dean, at everything I do!  So often, you and Sam are forced to come to my aid.  I can’t be a burden to you, Dean!

Cas feels tears prick the corner of his eyes as he concludes his little tirade. Now it’s Dean’s turn to stare at him incredulously.

“The hell you talkin’ about, man?” he huffs, the hostility dropping slightly from his tone.  “Nobody’s a burden here.  You’re family.  Haven’t I told you that already?”

“So you say,” Cas sighs, fiddling with his cufflink.  “But you and Sam are so…useful.  You’ve saved the world on numerous occasions, and are of service to it with each passing day.  I…I can’t allow myself to be in the presence of two such heroic individuals without being useful to them.”

Cas expects Dean to make some other argument, to shout or contradict him.  Instead, he feels a gentle arm on his shoulder, guiding him to sit down next to him on the bed. 

“Look, buddy,” Dean sighs.  All hostility is gone now, and Cas hopes that means he understands.  “I know what you’re feelin’ right now, I swear I do.  But you gotta understand, Cas, you’re not a burden.  Not to me, or Sam, or anybody.”

“But-” Cas starts to protest, but Dean’s index finger pressed to his lips silences him.  

You pulled me out of Hell, Cas,” Dean says emphatically.  “And I don’t care if you only did it ‘cause God told you to:  you saved me, and I owe you everything.  Everyone I’ve saved since then would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for you.”  There’s a pause.  “You tried to do the same for Sammy, too, if memory serves.” 

“Well, I did a pretty piss poor job of it,” Cas points out.

“Yeah, but you tried:  he was in the Cage, man.  With Lucifer.  All the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t of touched that thing with a ten foot pole, but you still went down there and you tried to get my little brother out for me.  That means something, even if I couldn’t see it back then.”

Cas says nothing this time, so Dean continues, “And you’ve saved the world too, you know.”

“I helped,” Cas corrects.  “Yelled profanities at an archangel before setting him on fire.  It’s hardly comparable to what you and Sam did.”

“You sacrificed your life, like, three times over, but that ain’t the point:  Raphael was gonna re-open the Cage if he ran the show.  I didn’t take it too seriously then, but I should of.  Point is, you stopped him, Cas.  All on your own.”  A million arguments about Sam’s wall and the Leviathan jump to Cas’s mind, but Dean interrupts preemptively, “And yeah, I don’t feel all too good about the stuff you did to get there, but…at the end of the day, Cas, it needed to be done.  You…”  He shrugs his shoulders.  “…You saved the world.”

Cas stares down at his lap, expression unreadable.  Dean pivots his legs to face him fully. 

“Point is, Cas, you’ve already done more for us and the world than anyone could ask for.  Yeah, a lot of the time it blows up in your face, but that’s just the consequences of playin’ big:  hell, Babe Ruth struck out more than any player in major league baseball.” 

Cas looks up, brow pursed in confusion.  “Why was an infant playing major league baseball, Dean?”

Dean ignores the question, not wanting to get sidetracked from the matter at hand.  “And even if you weren’t, do you really think I’d care?  I don’t want you to be useful, Cas.  I don’t want your accomplishments.  I’m not your dickhead family.  I just want you, here, with me.  That’s all.” 

Dean’s sure this will get through to him, and feels hopeful when Cas appears to pontificate on it.

“You didn’t want me when I was human.” 

Dean blinks, taken aback by the statement, and Cas continues, “And moreover, in your own words, without my powers I am a ‘baby in a trench coat.’”  He encapsulates the phrase with air-quotes, but even that doesn’t detract from the sting of what he’s saying.  “I mean no offense, Dean, but all signs point to the fact that you don’t want me here unless I can be of use to you.” 

Dean gapes for a moment or two, jaw flapping silently open and closed like a fish.  “Cas, that’s not true,” he manages finally.  “I was a dick when you were a human, okay?  I made a lot of mistakes and I wasn’t all that considerate of your feelings, but I never didn’t want you.  I wanted you when I told you to go, I wanted you when I found you at the Gas-n-Sip, and I especially wanted you when I had to watch you leave again.  I just blew my chance, is all.”

Cas looks only moderately convinced, but Dean goes on, “And the same goes for the things I said to you about you not having powers.  If I was dick to you about being out of juice, it was because I was being just that:  a dick.  And I’ve always wanted you, Cas, as long as I can remember.  I swear I did.”  

Cas still says nothing, but his posture softens slightly.  Dean breaths a quiet sigh of relief when Cas’s hand finds his, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says softly.

“Don’t mention it.”  There’s a brief pause before Dean clears his throat, and adds somewhat awkwardly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There’s a long moment of quiet before Dean recollects himself, remembering why he was “angry” to begin with. 

In a sudden burst of passion, he reaches up and grabs Cas by the tie, pulling him in for a rough, aggressive kiss that makes him blink in (not unpleasant) surprise.  

“I’m still pissed with you, you know,”  he growls, breath hot against his angel’s lips as he aggressively undoes his tie.  “You left -”  He yanks his khaki trench coat off of his shoulders.  “-for three full weeks, without so much as a peep.  And by morning, your ass is gonna regret it.”  

Cas has no idea what to make of this as Dean goes for his buttons, pausing briefly to look him in the eye.  “Safeword?” 

“G-garrison,” Cas manages, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Good.  Mine’s Impala.  Tonight, for a change, I’m gonna be the one on top.”  

My Guardian (Part 6)

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1465

Warnings: swearing, mention of blood, kissing, angst, mild violence.

My Guardian Master List

(Not my GIF)

Cas’s cobalt gaze darkened at your words. “No!” he shouted as he struggled against the charmed ropes. His arms were bruised and bloody. “Y/N, please,” the angel begged.

You fell to your knees. “If Cas and the Winchesters go free, and you vow to never touch them again, you may have my soul. Not in 10 years… now.” Tears streamed down your face. There was no way you were going to let the son of a bitch take your family away.

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Soundtrack of Us (Part Three) - You Get What You Give/The Flashback

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Word Count: 2600+ words

Pairing: AU!Dean x musician!reader 

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Ellen & Jo Harvelle, Castiel Russell (OC), Dan (OC)

Warnings: Character Death (not main), marijuana and alcohol abuse, angst, little snarky reader and Dean, kinda fluff, more angst

Summary: Y/N is a local artist with standing gigs at a coffee shop and a bar in a small town in North Carolina. She’s run from some things at home, but life has finally fallen into place in Asheville. Music is her life and her only worry in life, until she meets a pair of hypnotizing green eyes.

Author’s Note: Bare with me, y’all. This one is kind of a rollercoaster. What happened with Russell? Do Dean and reader get a chance??? You’re about to find out guys. 

Flashback italicized, song lyrics bold and italicized.
Song used: You Get What You Give - New Radicals (I like the cover by the Maine as well!)

“Thanks for hanging out, guys,” you spoke into the microphone at the end of your set, “have a good night and drink safe.”

You scurried off your stage and hid yourself in the thick of the crowd. You didn’t want to talk to Dean. Not here, not now. You made a lot of tip, you loved the drunk money-blowers who would accidentally drop twenties instead of ones. You deserved some shots, you thought.

You spotted Jo and made your way to her with lemon drop shots in hand and balancing a beer between your chest and your forearm. When you spotted her, she was listening intently to the voice of a clean cut brunette. He had beautiful blue pools in his eyes and scruff that could have only been a few days old. He wore a khaki trench coat which made you cock an eyebrow, but his looks were more than enough to let it slide. Jo was mesmerized by the man. You knew this because this conversation was different; she was always the one who did the talking, never the listening. She glanced past the man and looked at you, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. That was your sign to keep distance, she was working him up to take her home. Go, Jo. Two shots for you. Go, you.

You aimlessly walked around the bar with the stout that Sam served you. It was getting warm and unbearable to drink, but you needed a buzz through all the small talk and compliments on your singing that the bar goers threw your way. You especially needed the buzz when you saw a pair of bow legged jeans make their way towards you.

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stillebesat  asked:

I'm excited to see what you come up with with all these prompts! :) If you don't mind doing rare pairs, for the "I found you" prompt I would enjoy seeing your take on number 8 with Hakuba and Shiho.

I love rare pairs! A ship I had never considered, but I do believe they work surprisingly well together. Thanks for prompting!

8 Moonlight reflected in your eyes, balcony overlooking the sky

The white marble terrace gleams in the full moonlight, broken only by the figure in black as they cross the small gap between balconies with a jump, landing in front of the glass window. Vertical blinds are open, baring the room to the world.

A broad-shouldered blond with brown half-moon eyes in a khaki trench coat and black tie and slacks stands abruptly from his position on the bed. Foolish. Even Shiho could have made that shot with a pistol from across the street. “I found you,” Shiho says. “And quite easily, too.”

“Are you my contact?” The blond asks Shiho.

“I would hardly announce my presence to you if I weren’t,” Shiho says, but she doesn’t take off her hood, not just yet. She is not one to play the spy, but she knows the value of caution. This fool trusts too easily.

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12x22 and 23 thoughts

Okay from the new teaser (shaving people punting things “Two in One”) I feel like we’ve learned a few things, this got really long so more under the cut (speculation in italics): 

1.  They use a spell to try to get out of the bunker. After trying and failing to brute force their way out of the bunker’s concrete garage with a shovel. And some form of alcohol. Also, some right handed person (based on their watch) cuts their hand, which we all know is code for spell or sigil. Maybe for the get-out-of-the-bunker spell?

2. Toni is handcuffed and monitoring Dean’s brain for some reason.

3. There’s a house in a very desaturated color graded environment where a bunch of stuff goes down. We see an inside shot of the stairs (presumably of the same house), where there’s an old picture of a married couple on the wall. I think it’s the same house where we the first crib, based on the colors and the old tech in the room. Kelly is in full pre-baby mode, presumably staying in this old off the grid house, and Cas watches her (based on a vague silhouette) painting the baby’s (seemingly named “Jack” by what the wall says, did we already know that and I forgot?) room. Cas raises a finger to someone while outside the house too. Of course there’s the “Cas’s hand touching Dean’s head and glowing” snipit people are screaming about. This looks like it is in Kelly’s place at night, Sam is also there. There’s a bunch of other Kelly shots at night while she’s in a nightgown, but they don’t tell us much other than she’s very pregnant.

4. Cas standing at the edge of a lake in a mountainous region (looks like the same area-ish Lucifer is at at the end of 12x21). Probably near where the house is. (Reminds me vaguely of 6x20 when Cas talks about the ocean and his earliest memories).

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This Old Town

Word Count: 880

Warnings: kind of angsty?, smut (in flashbacks)

A/N: This was an Anon Request from a while back (I’m sooo sorry this took so long). Hope it’s okay. I didn’t quite know which angle to take on this, so I just went for it. Oh, and sorry this is kind of on the short side.

Request: “Could you write a Cas x reader based off of the song Heat Of The Moment by Asia”

Your hands gripped the wheel as a thousand different emotions rushed through you. The memories, both good and bad, flashed before your eyes as you struggled to focus on the road in front of you.

Welcome to Lebanon, Kansas

The sign flashed by you as you entered the city limits, the city you swore you’d never return to. But, there you were, running to the Winchester’s aid again. It wasn’t that the boys had done anything wrong. They weren’t the reason you left. You still kept in touch occasionally, comparing notes and hunts. But, you were usually calling from the other side of the country, alone.

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Words: 9,542
Dean x Reader
Warnings: some mildly graphic descriptions, some violence, language, suspense and intense situations
A/N: THANKS FOR ALL BEING SO PATIENT WAITING FOR THIS! I hope you like it. This is the final part of the Into the Woods series. Read Part 1 and Part 2 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

That was unexpected. Sam hung up and simply sat in strained silence for a moment. He rubbed his hands over his face and heaved a heavy sigh. It didn’t make him feel better. Seeing Dean’s number pop up on his phone had jolted him enough, but the news that some innocent bystanders had gotten sucked into the situation had him worried.

Dean would be alright; he was sure of that. But Sam was really hoping you would heed his advice and stay put until he arrived. Otherwise, you could be walking into something far more dangerous than you knew.

Sam slammed the book in front of him shut. It had been another dead end, but he refused to give up. Scouring the lore for solutions would have to wait, however, until he had sorted out this mess with the Wendigo.

He grabbed the bag he had packed as soon as Dean had gone off; it was always sitting ready by the door. A few minutes later and he was on the road, repeating a silent prayer over and over as the tires ground down the gravel and then leapt over the asphalt as he reached the major highway.

It was half a day, long after Sam had given up on the silent mantra, before there was a fluttering sound and suddenly the empty passenger seat was occupied.

Sam jumped and then let out a sigh that was halfway between relief and annoyance. “Cas,” he said in surprise. “I gave up on you about 700 miles ago.”

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Christmas Fashion 1964
George Segal and Maggie London walk down a city street, their arms wrapped around each other, he carries a small Christmas tree; she wears a white wool coat by Dani Jrs., black and white muffler by Einier Accessories, black bubble hat by Veaumont, black gloves by Hansen, and grey stockings by Berkshire; he wears a khaki trench coat with slacks. (Photo by Louis Faure) Mademoiselle magazine December 1964

Coming Up For Air - Part 1

Request: Can you make a story where the reader is a person that got pulled out of hell by Castiel and Cas has to “purify ” the reader. And they get a thing for each other and all that fuzzy stuffz

Words: 1533

Author’s Note:  It took me a bit to wrap my head around the story line on this one but I think I’ve got it now :) You’ll have to excuse me since this is my fist Cas fic and I haven’t written him very much.  Let me know if you think it should be different or if I have the characterization wrong!

  Thick black chains wrapped around my arms, heating up slowly as they pulled me in opposite directions.  They began to glow. First a subtle red hue, then a bright and molten crimson that seemed to sear itself into my eyes just as it did my skin.  I screamed out in pain, but no sounds came out.  There were large hooks embedded in my ribs, gnawing deeper into my flesh with each movement and each breath.  

  The chains around my arms wound the way down until they met my shoulders.  Then, snaking their way down my back, they wove together, scorching my skin as they did.  I felt myself melting.  The heat. The anguish. The torment.  And yet, no sounds escaped my lips.  The tears I was desperate to unleash never fell from my eyes.  The sweat that I knew should be beading at my brow was absent.

  Suddenly, my eyes jolted open.  A warm hand gently grasped my shoulder, and I shrieked. The contact didn’t seem to burn as I expected it to.  My skin wasn’t melting.  But my breath was ragged and I could feel my chest heaving as I brought my hands to my sides.  I found no hooks. No chains, no burning hell fire.  Just skin.  And sweat. And a crumpled up blanket at my feet.

  “Y/N,” a deep voice said.  Another hand grasped my shoulder and the two brought me to face him.  The owner of the dulcet tones.  “Y/N, you’re having a nightmare again,” he said with an air of disappointment.  Or was it concern?  I slowly began to nod my head as my eyes focused and his steely blue eyes rekindled my memory.

  “Castiel,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse. The angel’s short black hair was tousled and his khaki trench coat was laying crumpled on the floor.   The stiff but recognizable bed beneath me gave just a little as I set my hands down on it and pushed myself to the edge.  Swinging my legs over and facing the angel, I buried my head in my hands.  I felt the sweat dripping from my forehead and wiped it away with the back of my hands.

  “It was so real, Cas,” I confessed. “When are they going to stop?” I pleaded with him, wrapping my fingers around my arms, still convinced I’d find the chains there. I looked up at Castiel’s face, his eyes were squinted and his lips were tightly closed.  

  The tears that I’d been so desperate to shed just moments ago now fell down my cheeks unhindered.  I watched Castiel’s face drop from his normal stoic expression to a soft and endearing one.  His hand came up to my cheek as he pressed his thumb gently against it, wiping away my tear as he did.  

  “If I could heal you, I would.”  His face seemed sincere, almost desperate.  I smiled at him, as much as I could.  

  “I know,” I murmured.  “I’m just so tired.”  I hung my head, closing my eyes and wishing I could get a decent night’s sleep.  

  “Rest,” he whispered.  “I’ll stay with you.”

  I looked back up at him, meeting his gaze and knowing that he would.  I dropped my hands back down to the bed and shook my head, pushing myself up to standing.  “We both know that they’ll just be worse, Cas.  But thank you,” I reached out, grabbing his hand and entwining our fingers.  “For everything.”  He nodded, and within a moment, he was gone.  

  Walking out into the library, I saw Sam sitting at the table with his laptop and Dean hovering over him, looking at the screen intently.  I hadn’t gotten to know the brothers very well since being back among the living. Most of my time had been spent in the bathroom at first, hunkered in the corner, under one of the sinks, in the fetal position as I rocked back and forth.  Once Castiel convinced me that I was back, that I was no longer in that place, a room was made available to me.  Or at least, that’s what I had assumed in the last few weeks.  

  Each night, I would lay in bed and attempt to sleep.  Every now and again, I would drift off and find myself dozing.  Only to be interrupted by torturous nightmares.  Flashbacks really. And each always ended the same way.  Cast would gently rouse me, and after a few moments, I would remember him.  Castiel.  The angel who saved me. The one who had removed the hooks from my ribs and the chains from my arms.  The one who had saved me from the fire and the blood and the endless beatings I had been enduring for decades.

  I had died so long ago, I couldn’t even remember how it had happened.  Time had passed that had felt like eons.  Castiel had explained that I had been a hunter.  That my name was Y/N.  And that, to the best of his knowledge, a deal had been made for my soul.  He wasn’t sure what the terms were or why I had agreed to them; only that I had been bound to go to hell since the day I said yes.  And that I had only really been dead for eight years.  

  Walking into the kitchen, I opened the fridge and grabbed a soda.  Cracking the top, I quickly set my lips against the cold can, drawing the refreshing liquid to my lips.  My throat was scratchy and painful.   As though I had actually been screaming in my sleep when I hadn’t been able to do so in my nightmares.  

  “You doing alright?” Dean asked me as he peered up at me over the computer screen.  I nodded slowly, walking over to them and taking a seat at the table.  I ran a hand through my hair, which was evidently badly in need of washing.  

  “Hungry?” Sam asked, eager to help me in any way he could.  I shook my head. My stomach lurched at the thought of eating.  Of chewing.  I had heard the sounds of teeth gnashing at my skin for so many years.  I couldn’t imagine listening to my own mastication.  

  “It’s been over a week since you ate,” Dean observed.  “You’re wasting away here. You need to eat something.”  

  I looked up at the brothers, unsure what to say.  “Cas,” Dean called out. He looked around the room as if he would see him any moment.  “He left,” I informed him.

  “Cas, it’s about Y/N,” Sam spoke up.  There was a rustle of wind and Castiel stood beside me.  He knelt down quickly, bringing himself to eye level as his eyes squinted and he seemed to examine me as if he were a doctor.

  “I’m fine,” I told him.  

  “Yeah, you’re fine,” Dean quipped sarcastically.  “Cas, she hasn’t eaten in days.”  

  Castiel looked down at me as if to confirm Deans accusation.  I held his gaze, knowing that he had seen the tortures I had been through.  Hoping he had at least an idea of it all.  His eyes gave nothing away, but he stood quickly, disappearing yet again.

  “Somebody’s in trouble,” Dean sang out as he took his place again by his brother at the computer.  Sam smiled, shaking his head as he went back to furiously typing on the keyboard.  Less than fifteen seconds passed and I sat sipping my Sprite happily as it soothed my throat.  Without warning, a bowl of creamy chicken noodle soup was placed in front of me.  

  “Eat,” Castiel’s commanding voice rang out, catching me off guard.

  “What is this?” I asked him skeptically.  

  “Soup,” he answered pointedly.  “From China.  The woman said it cures all ails.  Eat.”  He thrust the spoon that he had held in his hand towards me.  

  I looked down at the creamy substance and, grabbing the spoon from Castiel, stirred it.  A chunk of chicken rose to the surface.  I sneered at it, as the meat swiftly changed in my site.  All I saw were dozens of floating bodies where there were previously vegetables and chicken.  The cream had converted to a lake of boiling blood and I could feel the heat from the flames surrounding it licking my cheeks.  The bodies floating in the lake were writhing, screaming in pain as the monsters just below the surface devoured their flesh.  I watched as each bite, each attack ended, and the bodies regrew their lost limbs and appendages.  Just in time for the vile creatures living below them resurfaced and clenched their jaws into them once more.  Over, and over again.  

  Shouts, screams and cries permeated my ears and I felt myself fall backwards, pushing the chair that I had been sitting on out from under me as I crab crawled away from the table.  The screams echoed through the room as they poured out of my mouth.  My eyes were clenched shut as I tried in vain to remove the visions from my mind.  

  “Shhhh, Y/N.” Castiel’s calm voice enveloped me as his arms pulled my in towards his chest.  My shrieks turned to sobs as my eyes opened and focused on the unassuming and perfectly innocent bowl of soup.  

Somewhere Before

Title: Somewhere Before

Pairing: Reader x Cas

Author’s Note: Ever felt you know someone you’ve never seen in your life before? Could it be that said stranger is your soulmate? Or perhaps someone you knew from a past life? There’s only one way to find out… (how’s that for an intro, huh?)

As always, your comments are welcome :)

Originally posted by supernaturaldaily

Your name: submit What is this?

You were being watched.

The familiar prickling sensation of someone’s eyes on you had settled on your neck and stomach for the past thirty minutes or so. If it weren’t for the ethics essay you had due for the following day, you would have left the library the moment you saw the blue-eyed man gazing at you.

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Title: Believer

Pairing: None really

Word Count: 2,029

Theme Songs: Be Here Now by Ray LaMontagne

**Imagine the reader, a believer in angels, still being shocked when she meets Cas face-to-face**

Your name: submit What is this?


Checking your reflection in your rear view mirror you gave a sigh at your tired eyes. It had been another long shift at work, having started with the early shift and made longer when you’d volunteered to stay a few hours over to cover a co-worker who had to go pick up their sick kid from school. But the day was over; you had the next two days off and you had some big plans for your forty-eight hour reverie. 

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smartashes  asked:

Felicity is kidnapped by people who want to use her hacking skills and she keeps finding ways to send clues out to Oliver, Dig, and Roy.

Hello my beautiful angel face 0:) This turned out longer than I expected, and I had a lot of fun writing it so thanks for the prompt! Hopefully you like it, although I did focus mainly on the Felicity/Oliver dynamic (Olicity shipper and all). Anyways, here goes…


She looked around the room. There were no windows and only one door and a staircase that leads somewhere unknown. She must be somewhere under ground, in a basement maybe. She wriggled her wrists, but the ropes were too tight. There was no way she was getting out of them.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

A man appeared from behind. He was tall, thin, and wore a long, khaki trench coat. The dim lighting prevented her from getting a good look at his face, but she couldn’t help the feeling that she had seen him before. The man crouched down so that he was at eye level with her, and that’s when she realized where she had seen him.

He had come to Tech Alliance on multiple occasions and asked a fair amount of ridiculous questions, but she had chalked them up to a one-sided crush. He had asked her to dinner, but she refused. There was only one man she wouldn’t refuse.  

“I like your glasses,” he said. His hand reached back and his fingers ran through her ponytail. “And the way your hair flips. Does it do that naturally?” She suddenly felt like dozens of worms were crawling on her skin.

“Now.” He pulled out a switchblade from his coat pocket and began cutting away at the ropes, first the ones around her wrists, then the ones around her ankles. He grabbed on to her arm and pulled her over to a desk with a desktop and keyboard. He pushed her down onto a chair with wheels and then held down the button at the bottom right corner of the screen. It came to life, and he was prompted with a login window. On the top left corner was a logo for Starling City National Bank. “Why don’t you put those pretty little fingers to good use and get hacking?”

She looked at the man and then back at the screen in front of her. “I can’t,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She could, but she wouldn’t. She refused.

He turned the chair around and rested his hands on the armrest. His face was uncomfortably too close to hers. She could smell the nicotine from his last cigarette and it made her want to gag. “Is it the word you have a problem with? Truthfully, hacking is such an ugly word.” He turned her back around and tapped at the screen. “We’d be doing Mr. Steele a big disservice.”

She tried not to react at the sound of the name, but she couldn’t help it. “Mr. Steele, as in former CEO of Queen Consolidated, Walter Steele?”

“He has so much money and no one to share it with. We would just be helping him spread the wealth.”

“Right,” she said under her breath.

She needed to let Oliver know where she was, but how could she do that when she didn’t even know where she was? Come on, Felicity, she thought to herself. There had to be a way.

Then she got it. If she could hack the foundry’s security safeguards, safeguards she put up herself, and send out a signal, Oliver would be able to find her location. Of course, this was dependent on Oliver being in the foundry the moment she sent out the signal.

Of course Oliver’s in the foundry. Where else would he be? But if he wasn’t, John or Roy was her best shot.

 If her plan were going to work, she would have to buy some time.

The man was over by the staircase. She assumed it was to guard the exit in case she decided to make a run for it. Good. He wouldn’t be able to see her open up another window.

“So all those times you asked me to have dinner with you, you were only planning to use me.” Firewall down.

“The thought never even crossed my mind, well, not until I saw how good you were with computers. Beauty and brains, my kind of woman.”

Password engaged.

“Usually, I wouldn’t be up for something like this, but personally, these people deserve it.” Loading. “I’m assuming dinner is out of the question?”

 “I’m open to leaving that question open-ended.”

Signal engaged. “Yes!” She called out, raising a fist in the air.

“You got in?” the man asked. She quickly minimized the window and brought up the other. She couldn’t risk him seeing it and closing it out, or doing much worse. As long as it remained open, Oliver would be able to track her.

“No, not yet, sorry.”  When she looked back, he was already making his way over.

“Well when you’re done with him, I’m going to need you to get into these accounts. These people are also in need of our help.” She looked at the names on the spreadsheet he laid in front of her. Ray Palmer was among the list of names.

“You know, it would help if I were somewhere higher up. Better signals are preferable for optimal results, especially if I’m to get through all of these accounts before morning.”

“You are just going to have to work faster,” he said in her ear.

In an hour, she had gotten through a third of the list, transferring all funds to different off shore accounts, but she made sure to leave them so that she could trace them back and return all the money.

She’d glance over, waiting for Oliver to come crashing through that door at the top of the staircase. She wouldn’t give up hope.

“You keep looking over,” the man said, making his way over again. “Now, I’d like to think it’s because of my good looks.” He pulled out a gun and set the barrel on her forehead. “What did you do?” he asked in a menacing tone, unlike the polite one he had used to get her to do this, well, as polite as any kidnapper can be. She gripped the chair tightly and swallowed back some bile.

She heard the floorboard above her creak, and she knew he was here. She didn’t have to feel afraid anymore. “Who are you waiting for?”

“My partner,” she said, “and he really doesn’t like guns.”

Before she could even blink, Oliver was standing at the top of the staircase, bow loaded, arrow begging to be released, but the man was quick too. He had her neck in a tight grip, his gun pointed at the side of her head.

 “Drop the arrow, or you’ll have to clean up her brain once I shoot it out of her head.” Oliver reluctantly dropped his arrow. She squeezed her eyes shut at the sharp sound it made when it hit the concrete floor.

Even from where she was standing, she could hear the click of the voice modulator.

“Let her go,” he commanded.

“Has anyone ever told you there’s a more efficient way of shooting people than with an arrow?” The man shoved her onto the ground with such force, she scrapped her hands and elbows. He moved for the only way out, the staircase, firing shot after shot after shot.

Oliver managed to roll out of the way, then instinctively reached back and pulled another arrow from his quiver. He shot at the man’s hand. The arrow pierced his skin, forcing him to drop his gun, a loud cry escaping his mouth. Oliver ran toward him, and with his bow, knocked him unconscious.

Oliver rushed to her, helping her to sit.

“Oliver, are you okay? You’re not shot, are you?” She touched his face, his arms and his chest, searching for a bullet wound. He set his bow on the ground and held her face between his hands.

 “Felicity, I’m fine,” he said softly, almost in a whisper.

“What took you so long?” she asked as she blinked away her tears of joy.

“My partner was gone,” he said, “and you know me, I’m useless without her.”

Two Smoking Guns 3

Summary: AU: First Day of your new Job, first day of class, should be all peaches and cream, except for the fact that your new Boss and your Professor are the most attractive men you’d ever met, and they won’t stop staring at you.

Author: @i4z-0892-imagines

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,695

Warnings: You guys know me, if it was anything serious it’d be in the tags!

A/N: I CAN’T STOP!!! I’m sorry! I’m sure you’re already sick of seeing this, but damnit if it isn’t fun! WHAT IS PACING?! Fuck it! Dean-centric part, don’t worry, Sam’s going to get plenty of attention next part.

Part 1 - Part 2 -

“Mr. Smith?” You questioned, his brilliant green eyes flashed at you and you smiled. “Dean, your appointment with Mr. Godson is in half an hour, if you want to make your reservation at Guiardi’s you should be heading out here in the next 10 minutes or so.” You said as you flipped your wrist over to check the time on your watch. Dean stood up and grabbed his blazer from the back of his chair, and slipped it over his broad shoulders, never tearing his eyes from you.

Keep reading

Out of My Hands - Part 11

Summary: The reader, having grown up in foster care after her hunter father left, has found a home with the boys and starts to hunt alongside them. Whether they’re willing to or not.  Sam X Reader

Warnings: Smut, abandonment issues, self-esteem issues, language, drinking, etc.

Words: 2292

A/N: Okay, so it’s technically Sunday morning since it’s after midnight for me.  Enjoy!

Part One   Part Two   Part Three  Part Four   Part Five  Part Six

Part Seven    Part Eight   Part Nine   Part Ten

  Hannah was gone only a few seconds when she reappeared, my father standing beside her.  His eyes seemed to roll around his head, his face growing pale as he bent at the knees and began breathing deeply.

  I stood there, silent.  My tears had dried up and I looked at Hannah.  Her eyes held such empathy and she walked toward me, not paying my father any attention.

  “Are you positive that this is what you want, Y/N?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Y/N?” My father stood bolt upright, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Now, Hannah,” I ordered, my eyes never leaving his as my vision went white. 

* * *

10 Months Later

  I walked around to the front of the bar, grabbing the disinfectant and a rag as I went.  We had just opened up for the day an hour ago and already there were tables in need of a good scrubbing. Making my way around the room, I sprayed and scrubbed each unoccupied table and seat.

  “I thought you were taking the day off,” my father’s deep voice called from behind the bar, a hint of a smile in his words.

  “I am, Dad.  I only just came down,” I lied.

  “Uh huh. Just came down to do what?  Clean the tabletops?”

  I laughed.  “Yeah well, you know me!”

  “Where’s Jim?” Dad asked me, concerned.

  “Hannah’s with him upstairs.  He’s been asleep the last few hours.”

  My father crossed his arms and sighed at me, disapproval emanating off of him in waves.  Jimmy, or Jim as my father calls him, was my two month old son.  It had been just my dad and I for as long as I could remember.  Traveling, hunting and taking care of each other.  When we found out that Jimmy was on the way, my father went full tilt into protective grandpa mode.  

 We opened up our bar not too long after that.  Dad said it would give us all some stability. And truth be told, I loved it.  Jo’s Place was named after a childhood friend of mine.  The bar was downstairs, above which were two apartments.  My father lived in one and Hannah, Jimmy and I in the other.

 Hannah had been living with us for quite a while and was my closest friend.  She helped me with the baby and always seemed to know when something was wrong.  When I had gone into labor, she was there before I had even called her.

  I finished cleaning up just as a man walked in the front door.  I hadn’t seen him here before but he looked familiar. His khaki trench coat with a suit underneath seemed so commonplace to me despite his obvious strangeness.  He looked at me, his eyes serious as I walked behind the bar.

  “Dad,” I called. “Can you help this man? I’m going to go check on Jimmy.” I walked upstairs.

  I walked in the door to my apartment and gave Hannah a smile.  Her typically stoic demeanor seemed off and she looked distracted.

  “Everything okay?” I asked her, stepping into the kitchen where she stood.  She didn’t answer. “Hannah?” Her eyes broke contact with whatever she had been focused on and looked at me. “You okay, Hannah?”

  She smiled at me.  “Yes.  Jimmy’s still asleep.  My mind just….wandered.”  I nodded at her. “Weirdo.”

  I made my way into the nursery and looked down at Jimmy in his crib.  His eyes were beginning to open as he rubbed them with his hands and opened his mouth, whimpering.

  “Hey there, little man,” I cooed at him, reaching down and picking him up, kissing his head as I laid him on my shoulder.  I laid him back down on his changing table as I began changing his diaper, his absolute least favorite activity.  I tossed his pajamas in the hamper and dressed him in his “Jo’s Place” onesie. As I picked him back up, the front door opened.

  “Y/N?” My dad almost whispered.

  “Coming.  Jimmy’s awake, you can talk like a grown up.”

  “You’re so witty.  Ha ha,” my dad said facetiously.  “That guy in the trench coat downstairs?  He says he’s a friend.  Wants to talk to you.”

  “Okay.  We’ll be right down.” Jimmy was cooing against my shoulder as he began bouncing his head against me.

  “Maybe you should leave him with me,” Hanna said, a touch of panic in her voice.

  “That’s okay,” I reassured her.  “He needs to eat anyway and I have some freshly pumped bottles downstairs.”

  I opened the door and followed my father back downstairs, grabbing a bottle from Jimmy’s diaper bag on the way.  

  The man from earlier sat in the back corner booth, his eyes on me and a stern expression on his face.  “That’s the one,” my father affirmed.

  I took a seat beside him, laying Jimmy in my arms and giving him his bottle.  He wasn’t quite strong enough to hold it on his own yet, so I held it up for him, smiling down at his deep green eyes and contented face.

  “Y/N?”  the man said.

  “Yep, that’s me.  But I believe you have me at a disadvantage.  What’s your name?”

  “You call me Cas.”

  “I think you might be mistaken.  I don’t know you.”

  The man looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes misty.  “I’m sorry to disturb you.  I thought you might remember. I’m a friend of Hannah’s.”

  “Oh, Hannah!  Yeah, she’s just upstairs, I’ll call her down.” I stood up and made my way to the bar, grabbed the phone and dialed Hannah’s number.  No answer.  I turned to walk back to the booth, surprised to see Hannah already there.  Her and the man, Cas, looked to be in a rather heated discussion, one I wasn’t sure I should be involved in.  

  Cas kept looking over at me and down to Jimmy, that same sad look on his face.  I decided that I was allowed to hear whatever they were arguing about.

  “Sam has been searching for her, non-stop.  Do you know what havoc you have wrought?” he chastised her.

  “Castiel, she asked for this.  I did no different than you would have.  And she made this decision for him.  Not to spite him.”  Hannah stood her ground.

  I walked over to them, Jimmy nestled on my shoulder, burping away.

  “Y/N!” Hannah startled.  Cas sighed deeply as he raised his hand towards me, slowly, his middle and index fingers outstretched.  I felt Hannah wrap her hands around Jimmy as Cas pressed his fingers against my forehead.

  “What the hell?” I screamed out as my vision went white.  

* * *

  10 months prior

  “Y/N?” Sam called, his voice echoing in the empty hotel room.  He was panicked.  Dean was hot on his heals, coming in the door just seconds after Sam had.

  “Is she here?” Dean asked, looking around the room.

  “No,” Sam breathed, sorrow stabbing him through the chest.  “Where would she have gone?”

  “I don’t know, man.” Dean replied.

   Sam held up a small box that he’d found in the car. The box that had caused him to begin to worry in the first place and to begin imagining that his worst fears were about to come true.  

 “Dean.  If you know where she is, you’ve got to tell me.  If you know anything about this,” he held the box up, waving it in Dean’s face, accusatory, “you need to tell me.”

  “Sammy, I swear.  I told you what I know.  I came back up to get the keys.  She was in the bathroom with the test in her hands, damn near tears, talking about how this isn’t want you wanted.   I told her to tell you.  That’s all!”

  “Why would she leave?  And without her car.  We have the mustang, her bike’s back at the bunker.  Where would she go?”

  Sam tore back out of the hotel room and ran down the stairs to the lobby, pushing his way out the back door.  He began walking around town, looking for any sign of her, any hint that she had been nearby.  But there was nothing.  

  Dean sat in the hotel room, yelling for Castiel until he finally showed up.

  “Cas, I know you were here with Y/N.  You need to tell me where she went.  Sam’s losing it.”

  Castiel stared at Dean, confused.  “I left when you came in.  I have not been back.  She was still here.”

  “Find her.  Anything you can do, do it. Call in favors, just….Find her.”

  And with that, Castiel was gone and Dean left to go chase his brother down.

* * *

The Day Before Castiel’s Arrival at Jo’s Place

  “Dean?” Castiel’s voice rang out in the bunker.  

  “In here,” Dean answered from the table in the library.

  “Are you doing research?”  Castiel asked, taken aback by the site of Dean at the laptop, his eyes transfixed on the screen.  

  “Sort of.  I’m trying to check traffic cameras. Anything that might get a glimpse of Y/N.  Sam hasn’t left his room in weeks, hasn’t eaten anything in days.  I don’t know what’s going to happen if we can’t find her soon.”

  Castiel walked up to the table and pulled the chair next to Dean out.  “I found her.”

  “What?” Dean asked, incredulously.  

  “She’s at a bar just outside of Springfield, Missouri.  She runs it.  With her father.”

  “How did you find this all out?  You’re sure it’s her?”

  “I called in a few favors from Heaven.  Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”


  “No, Cas.  Whatever you’re about to say or suggest, the answer’s no.  The plan now is to go grab my brother, throw him in the car, and get him to wherever she is.  I don’t care about anything else.”

  “Dean, Hannah’s with her.  There might be more to this than we know.”

  Dean stared at Castiel, his face determined and hard. “I’m going to go get Sam.  I’ll give him some bullshit about a case and I’ll get him in the car.  And then we’re going.  And you’re coming with us.  Are you in?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Dean walked towards Sam’s room feeling uneasy.  No way finding Y/N was this simple.  Something was bound to jump up and bite them in the ass.

Grocery Shopping with Castiel

Words: 308
Warnings: Fluff??

It’s on a rare occasion that you’ll take the angel to shop with you, normally you’ll get Sam or Dean to visit the grocers, but on days like today that wasn’t an option. Cas likes getting out of the bunker, he likes to see other people besides you and the boys everyday, he likes making conversations with any adults that come in his path, so when you ask “Would you like to go grocery shopping with me?” he was ecstatic.

He always wanders, one moment he’s at your side and the next he’s nowhere to be found. With a sigh you decide that it would take less time to finish piling food into the cart then go find Cas. Once you place the final item down you’re on a mission to find your angel, “If I were Castiel, where would I go?” you thought as you search down aisles for what seems to be an invisible man. You check the book area, the clothing, even the toy aisle for him, but everywhere you search you come empty-handed.

As you push the cart back towards the food you catch a glimpse of a familiar khaki trench coat, you stare at the angel who’s observing many colorful fish swimming freely in their glass homes. “I found some fish.” he notes when you stand beside him.

“I can see that.” You smile grabbing onto his hand.

“I thought you’d like this one.” his finger extends, pointing at a goldfish, you smile at his thoughtfulness refusing to bring up the fact that it was a generic fish.

“I love him.” you laugh leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“May we get him?” he looks down at you a slight smile beginning to appear.

“Yes, Castiel. We can get him.” You kiss his cheek swiftly before looking back to the new family member.

Thrift Shop Treasure

Words: 825
Warnings: None whatsoever!
Author’s note: One cute little Cas drabble! I put in exactly what you said, but also a cute little twist on it, which I’m 92% sure you’ll like ;)

Request: @404supernatural Could you do a little one shot/drabble where the reader finds an old trench coat (maybe at a thrift shop or in her mom’s closet) so she takes it and puts it on and Cas thinks it’s the most adorable thing? This popped into my head today and I thought you would write it perfectly. 😊💖

You didn’t know why you’d picked it up. It wasn’t exactly your normal style, and truthfully it wasn’t going to have much practical use, but the material, the texture - it felt like home. 10 dollars in a thrift store is a small price for home. It had a small rip in the lining of the left sleeve but that didn’t matter, it just gave the trench coat character, as if it had already lived a long life before you set eyes on it. That was half the reason you’d bought it anyway, of course.

The man, Castiel, who always spoke as though he was older than he looked, yet at the same time had a compelling innocence about him. He rarely talked in depth about himself, but something about how he spoke about life told you he’d experienced more than his fair share. But he always wore that khaki trench coat. In fact, for all the times he’d wandered into your shop, looking lost but somehow finding even the tiniest thing to buy, you’d only seen him take off his beloved coat once.

It was after the assailant had confronted you in the alley behind the store, you’d only gone out there to take out the trash but soon enough you’d heard the shout. The attacker had sneered, impossibly dark eyes locked onto your own, but he’d barely even touched your arm before Castiel had seemingly come from no where. He threw the new man back with a strength that didn’t really match his stature, and soon was ushering you back inside. He’d taken off his trench coat that day and draped it around your shoulders, still warm as he crouched down to check you were okay.

Maybe that’s why the trench coat felt like home. A reminder of the day that he’d helped you without flinching. It made you smile, and really, how many coats could do that?

So you wore it to and from work, you went out and met a friend in it, and you even used it a few evenings as a blanket. It was hard to put a finger on the feeling it gave you, but there was a security there from it. It almost felt as if it was a link to your ‘Guardian Angel’, you knew they weren’t real but sometimes you can find comfort in the strangest of ways. Regardless, you enjoyed your coat and kept it as a reminder of Castiel.

He didn’t come in for a few weeks though and you wondered if the whole event had scared him off. He was a quiet soul from what you could tell and it was quite  In fact you’d gotten so complacent with wearing your jacket, when you saw him next, you forgot you even had it on.

“Y/N?” The low voice said behind you as you locked up shop.

“Oh! Castiel!” You said, nearly jumping out of your skin but grinning widely when you realised who it was. You put a hand on your chest and caught your breath back through a laugh.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” He said hurriedly, a hand hovering awkwardly, unsure whether to steady you or not. His fingers just lightly skimmed your jacket and he narrowed his eyes.

“It’s alright, don’t worry! I-I’m sorry though, I’ve just closed up.”

“It’s no matter, I was only…” He trailed off, a lopsided smile appearing on his face as you stood up straighter. It was rare that you saw him smile quite like that and you couldn’t help but find it contagious.

“What?” You laughed nervously, “Do I have something on my face, or?”

“No. Your coat, it’s… I’ve not seen you wear it before,” He said tilting his head a little to the right.

You looked down and with a little embarrassment, remembered what it was you had on. Heat rose to your cheeks instantly and you pulled a face, trying to explain your way out of it quickly, “Er, yeah. It’s new, it was just cheap at the thrift store and it looked comfy so I thought I’d get it and I-”

“It looks nice,” Cas said simply, cutting you off from your rambling, “Although I could’ve told you that from before.”

You let out a short laugh and ducked your head, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You look… I believe the word is cute.”

You ducked your head and smiled, trying to make it look as if you were only tucking the store’s keys back into your pocket and not in fact blushing. Smirking, you looked back up and and let out a sigh, “Thanks Castiel. Still can’t let you in though, I’m really am sorry, you’re going to have to come back tomorrow morning.”

“It’s no hassle, it wasn’t urgent.” He gave you another small smile, eyes lingering on your coat for a few seconds longer before glancing back up to meet your gaze, “I look forward to it.”