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Neo Gothic
A/N: I started writing this hours ago and will edit soon however I am tired for now. Written on my phone and currently unedited so please forgive any mistakes. First time writing for CM and Spencer so I’m still finding my footing. This will be the start of a series and will later include angst and smut. 18+
Summary: Receptionist at the BAU by day, Gothic Literature student by night. You are asked to consult on a case with the team, leading to you getting closer to the resident boy genius of the FBI. Going with the flow of the butterflies, you’re not sure where you’ll be taken when you accept the offer to consult on a case with Gothic themes.
When you applied to this random 9-5 admin job with the fbi, you weren’t particularly prepared for what awaited you. The job was a mix of different duties, filling case files for agents, passing on messages, answering the phone, kind of like a receptionist. However, you weren’t prepared to be filing away files for murders so horrific you couldn’t even imagine. The floor you were assigned contained the BAU, and as expected you were often face to face with the grin reminders if the horrors of humanity.
At university, the nature of humanity was something you often debated with your cohort. The why, who, where, when, and how was seen as key understanding to the nature of humanity, particularly the humanity of those who are fictional. See, you were a literature graduate, studying her masters during the evenings while trying to keep her head afloat and pay rent, hence the ‘random’ admin job that fit into your schedule perfectly. There was an adult mundanity in the fact you worked in the fbi that felt secure, that allowed you to study your passion with the knowledge that you had a job that supported this. The role was easy, you weren’t particularly privy to inprotant information, but that wasn’t a problem, what you did hear was fascinating. In your time studying, you aquired a taste for gothic literature, and found it fascinating the new views gained after an overheard conversation from the team after their return from a case. Your understanding and insight of psychoanalysis in class has been applauded by your professor many times, and may or may not have earned you a few extra points on assignments when you throw in a fact overheard by the water cooler. The best thing about the job? It was never boring, there was always something new going on to observe.
In your job role, considering you’re not an agent, you communicated mainly with JJ, Penelope, and Hotch. Often having short interactions with Hotch, handing him messages or files that had been left at your desk for him, you were closer to the two blondes. JJ, as former media liaison, had trained you in some aspects for your role, an example being reporters finding the phone numbers of desk staff and asking them for intel, she taught you how to shit it right down. Over time, you exchanged pleasantries, and became friends eventually. She would ask about how class was going, discuss weekend plans with you, often telling you to call her in any emergencies in a maternal tone. It was nice having a friend like her, when you moved to Virginia, it was kn your own, your parents had passed and you had worked hard to earn enough money to move for college. Sure it was a few years delayed but you weren’t going to party. So, JJs maternity towards you was welcomed. Penelope, however, befriended you almost instantly, or more likely decided to befriend you before you even got there.
As you arrived on your first day, satchel slung on your shoulder loosely, she greeted you at the elevator doors. A bright, bouncy, and very pink woman grinned at you and grabbed your hands before speaking frantically
“Hello there angel! It is so nice to meet you my name is Penelope and I am so excited to finally meet you! I’m so so sorry but I did do an extensive background search on you however it was with the best of intentions and you seem so so so lovely and I’m excited to have you here-“ she rambled on, making you almost dizzy, you kept your eyes trained on her and smiled back, giggling to yourself at her energy. Any first day nerves long forgotten.
“That’s okay!” You chuckled “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you Penelope.”
She took your hand and shook it excitedly
“You will love it here my love, I saw that you’re still a student, what are you studying, are you hoping to join the bay someday ebvause you know I have contacts” she winked as she lead you through the bullpen. A few people stopped to watch as the women lead you through, offering a small smile or wave, you assumed they knew Penelope and that this was fairly common. She lead you to a desk tucked away near an office with a plaque that read ‘Agent Hotchner’. A stern looking man emerged and joined Penelope and you.
“This is Hotch, he’s the head of the team!” Penelope introduced eagerly, Hotch reached a hand forward to shake yours with a small smile which you returned.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“I trust that Penelope has already told you everything you need to know” he glanced to the blonde woman who had already filled you in on the walk over “You know what to do, yes?”
You nodded, having completed your training for the job prior to starting, you were confident. Penelope offered yo grab you a cup of coffee, which you obliged with a smile, and began to unpack you satchel. The desk was nice, nicer than any ikea flat pack you had anyway. Making it your own was easy and when Penelope returned to drop your coffee and offering to lunch with you in her ‘bat cave’ she left you to your own devices.
Suddenly, this had become very daunting. There were already a ton of emails waiting for you, as well as files that needed to be dropped off. Picking your slight technophobe side however, you pick up the pile of Manila files and begin to read the labels for agents names. Luckily for you, name placards seemed to be a big trend around this office. Separating the files for each agent before making your way around the desks. Each agent offering you a small thanks, some introducing themselves, others just grunting in acknowledgment. Finally, you made your way to the last agent, a thin man with shaggy curls. His eyes were furrowed with concentration as he scribbled quickly onto a note pad, you gently placed the remaining folders on the end of his desk hoping not to disturb him, when his head snaps up.
“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you!” But he shook his head
“It’s no problem. Thank you. You’re new, right?”
You nodded “started about… 15 minutes ago?”
“13 minutes 53 seconds ago.” He corrected, caught of guard you stammered slightly to respond, which made him flustered too “not that I was counting! I just, notice these things!” There was a beat “I’m Spencer by the way.”
“I know. I read the name on the file” you smiled, now he was stammering “I’m y/n.”
He returned the small smile awkwardly after a moment and nods, you wave him goodbye before returning to your desk.
Since that, your interactions with Spencer have been short. Occasionally chatting in the kitchenette, catching eyes across the room and exchanging small smiles. You didn’t know much of his life, though you wanted to. But it was hard to get to know a man who spent half his time out of the office, so you often cherished any moments you did manage to talk.
This particular morning you were deep in thought. JJ seemed to notice when you came in, and came to your desk soon after you sat.
“What’s up?” She asked, sitting on the edge of your desk, breaking you out of your ponderous trance
“Oh it’s just exam season. I was trying to plan an essay in my head in the way here. I’m struggling to find a topic.” You admitted, feeling slightly awkward that you were thinking so scholastically this early in the morning. JJ quirked an eyebrow, intrigued.
“You do Literature right? The gothic? Isn’t that mostly ghost and ghouls, and damsels in castles with a candelabra?”
You shrugged “kind of, it’s a bit deeper than that. You see the gothic actually wasn’t a literary genre until about the 19th or 20th century. The term was actually originally used to describe a Germanic tribe, who sacked Rome. William of orange actually used them to justify his overtake of the throne during the glorious revolution. But what’s interesting is that it was used almost like a slur in the next centuries due to the revival of more classical styles like Roman and Greek-“ you cut yourself off before you can ramble more, by this point JJ’s face has dropped slightly in a mix of awe and a shock. You pull your lips into a right line and mutter a sheepish “sorry”
“You sound JUST like Reid” she chuckled, you flushed slightly, but unsure why you tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your belly “But you know all of this and you’re struggling for a topic? How come?”
This you pondered for a minute. Before shrugging and looking at her again sheepishly before asking “promise not to profile me?” Intrigued the blonde nodded “I kinda need to up my game because my professor really liked my essay topic and I’m not sure how to top it… “you trailed, JJ nodded for you to continue, unsure of your apprehension
“What topic was it then?”
"…How Male and Female Cannibals juxtapose each other in modern literture… it was titled 'Desire Vs Destruction'… i git the highest grade ive ever gotren ebcause if stuff ive learned here…"
that definetly took JJ back. she blinked at upu momentarily
"i was not expectong that… but thats definetly interesting…" she thought for a moment "You use psychoanalysis a lot?" you nodded "Well, im sure youll think of somwthing." JJ smiled and gave you a reassuring pag on the shoulder. "worst comes to worst, ask Reid. He’ll have insight, I promise you, you’re a lot more a like then I realised.” And with that, she returned to her desk.
What did she mean you were were alike? He was essentially a walking super computer, an agent with multiple PHDs and he was just a few years older than you, you couldn’t see any similarities. Your thoughts were interrupted by Hotch’s voice calling the team to the conference room. Watching as they all stood and gathered, your eyes trailed Spencer. As he walked, his sweater rode up slightly and gathered at his waist, allowing a slight bit of pink to peek through before he pulled it back down. Though, you saw and blushed, shaking your head and trying to return to work.
45 minutes later the team emerged, most of the team exited, whilst JJ and Emily approached you.
“Y/N, we think we might need your insight on something.” JJ spoke, your gave her a surprised look, Emily continued for her
“You study gothic literature primarily in your degree, yes?” The woman spoke softly but direct. Confused, you simply nodded and followed them whilst they lead you to the conference room most of the team just left.
Inside you were greeted by Hotch and Spencer, who were stood next to a board. It was littered with pictures of bodies that made your eyes widen and turn quickly away, hiding In JJs shoulder. Spencer quickly pulled a shade down over the board as the group apologised
“Oh my god, were those people dead!” You squeaked, not asking really, you were aware what department you worked in. Hot h apologised once more before continuing.
“Apologies again, L/N. But I called you in here because I believe you may have some insight into our current case.” Slowly, you turned around again, confused once more, Spencer’s eyes were on you.
“Me? How?”
“This Unsub appears to be displaying a pattern pertaining to deaths synonymous with famous gothic works. So far he’s replicated the death of Lucy in Dracula, Carmilla the vampires death, And we believe he may begin to escalate. We believe your insight into the genre may help identify any patterns we may miss.”
A few beats passed. Looking around the room, all eyes were on you. Emily gave you a small pleading look, and JJ squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. Spencer’s eyes had never left you yet, when you look over to him, he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to say yes. You were sure that you weren’t as useful as you thought, but if they were the experts and they believed you could help, who were you to say no? With a deep breath of hesitation, you nod and take a seat.
Hotch briefs you on your role. No field work, of course, but you’ll join the team on the jet. He will give you temporary clearance to join them on scenes and other occasions you may be needed. Before you can agree he explains the aspect that you forgot. The gore. Being a horror fan you were used to fake gore on screen, but real life was another story. The people on TV would go home, they’d see their family, and they’d continue on their lives, but the people in the photographs you saw wouldn’t. They’d never go home again. As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer spoke up from across from you.
“I know that it’s hard. It’s hard to stomach but, your insight might stop this from carrying on.” He paused thinking, looking to see if anyone would continue but they seemed to silently agree with him “Holding onto that thought. The thought that you’re helping someone truly and actively, then it helps you stay motivated past your own apprehensions.”
He seemed to know exactly what to say somehow. This man you barely knew, had somehow found the right words to say to get you on board, pensively you agreed. Hotch stood first.
“Ok we leave in an hour. Go home and pack a bag and meet the rest of the team at the airport. You’re doing a good thing, L/N.” As he left, JJ smiled and followed along with Emily. Leaving you alone, for the first time with the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid. He turned towards you to offer a small smile.
“I can give you a ride home if you like. I noticed you take the bus in, it’ll be quicker if I drive you.” He stated, surprising you
“Oh yeah that would be amazing thank you… but how did you know I took the bus?” You asked curiously, standing from your seat to stand nearer to him. He stammered for a second before collecting himself
“I noticed that you arrive mostly on time with the bus schedule, and the times you run late are in line with mornings with heavier traffic that causes the bus to take longer… I memorised the bus schedule when I first started.” He shyly looked to the floor, shuffling his feet, a beat passed before he looked up again to which you offer him a small reassuring smile. “Shall we?” He points toward the door, and you nod.
On the drive, you were calm up until you had realised you agreed to leave the city in the same week you were supposed to be writing the essays you may have accidentally on purpose put off till deadline week.
“Shit” you gasp, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth and quickly scrambling to email your professors, hoping this counts as extenuating circumstances, however in this process you had alerted the FBI’s resident genius next to you to your panic.
“Are you okay?” He laughs out, after your outburst had subsided slightly. Without looking up from your phone you spoke
“I’m knee deep in deadlines and I forgot and now I’ve got to go to… where are we going again?”
“Texas”
“Texas! And I haven’t started some and oh god!” Your head is in your hands as you groan. Reid chuckles a bit, before pulling up to your apartment building.
“I can always help if you’d like.” He spoke shyly, you peeked your head up slightly.
“How much do you know about gothic literature?”
“A fair amount. I’m a big fan of Ann Radcliffe’s writing, her essays are insightful” At the mention of Radcliffe you perked slightly, and when he said essays you say up fully, more happy that someone outside of your cohort was aware of radcliffes essays.
“I could probably use some help with psychoanalysis actually…” you thought “have you read Rosemarys Baby or The Exorcist?”
“I’ve read both actually, a few times they’re some of my light halloween reads. I’m sure I can help, what exactly do you have in mind? The demonic aspects? I think I could give you some good insight, I’ve read Creeds book on the essay on the exorcist recently and I believe that you could make some good observations of abjection in motherhood in horror-“
As he rambled on you felt another small flutter. Hearing him discuss your passion with such ease and knowledge made you flush, he spoke almost as passionately as you. Maybe JJ was right about your similarities. Before you could think more on your new blossoming feelings, Spencer interrupted himself
“Oh we have to be there soon, we can talk about this later if you want? We can discuss on the jet and start planning tonight? During our downtime at the hotel possibly?”
You agree before you can conjure any more butterflies at the thought of being alone with Spencer. Moving quickly out of the car and up to your apartment, Spencer in tow.
You left Spencer in your living room whilst you packed a bag quickly. When you returned you found him eyeing your bookshelf.
“You have a great collection here… would you mind if I borrowed this?” He held up your well worn copy of dracula. It was annotated thoroughly, with more additions each time you reread, it’s well worn and well loved totem of your literary love.
“you should probably get a better copy, that ones nearly unreadable.” Making your way to your bookshelf, you search to find a nicer copy you had recently purchased from a second hand book store. But when you tried to hand it to Spencer he shook his head
“I’d actually enjoy reading your notes. If that’s okay.” Spencer looked at his shoes, a habit you noticed already, you couldn’t refuse him.
The car journey was filled with vivid conversations about Dracula, and how you thought it was unfair that Dracula was the iconic vampire when Carmilla was written first. The jet ride however jarred your nerves slightly. This was the first time you fully took in the crime scene photos, and you could see how the team quickly linked these to gothic novels. The victim who replicated Lucy Westenra had wounds that accurately depicted the characters turmoil from her turning, the (highly medically wrong) blood transfusions, and finally her vampiric death. The same can be said with the victim who replicated Carmilla, though she obviously didn’t have her own tomb, the unsub dug her mother up instead. There were clear links to the novels, but something didn’t sit right with you.
“They’re all novels with vampiric elements…” you muttered.
“We noticed that too. We belive the unsub may be trying to chronologically work through the vampire cult novels.” Spencer’s eyes caught yours for a moment before you quickly moved to look at the folder once more.
“But no male victims?” Youvsifted through the crime scene photos incw more, not entirely used to the sight still, but echoing Spencer’s words in your mind.
You’re helping people, and that’s what matters.
“No. Unsubs tend to stay to the same victimologies. This particular unsub is organised enough to plan the crimes in advance and execute, pun not intended, them without letting his urges take control.” Spencer told you, leaning over the table to point to a note in the file. He was close enough to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with the comforting scent of old books and coffee. A slight blush crept up your cheek, that made you loose your train of thought, stuttering your way through your next sentence.
“There’s a possibility the unsub could be a woman. One part of the gothic allure is the liberalism that it embodies, and for women that’s inviting. The idea of the monsterous feminie is being widely discussed at the minute, it’s why there’s so many horror films with female monsters that we end up rooting for. It’s a way to juxtapose the patriarchal constraints in soceity. Think Jennifer’s body, Yellowjackets, even historical figures like Elizabeth abat-jour are all stories about monsterous women yet, somehow in their own contexts, we root for them. It could be possible that this unsub is a woman trying to take control, after someone probably a man wrong her. She could feel vindicated in her actions and see them as an expression of the monsterous feminine, and a man wouldn’t be so presise. The victim replicating Westenra had 4 different blood typers present in her system, the character had 4 transfusions in the book. Her entire death is perfectly replicated, as described. They even sent her garlic flowers, like a warning.” After you were done you had noticed that everyone on the jet was staring at you. Glancing around you started to feel that little blush that Spencer had induce, creep into a slightly brighter red of embarrassment. Did you do something wrong?
After a beat, Rossi spoke up.
“That’s some very insightful information, kid.” He looked around the jet, the whole team nodded in agreement.
“Where did you learn that?” Emily spoke up with an aghast smile
With a relieved smile, your face began to cool down slightly and you, albeit sheepishly, admitted that you overhear them occasionally and have a tendency to research theories they mention, and that you may or may not have read Rossi’s books. They all seemed impressed
“Watch out guys, I think we’ve found a future profiler.” Derek spoke up from the row behind Spencer “Ever thought about going through the academy?”
“I don’t think I really have the qualifications to join you guys. I just like to read.”
“I reckon you could surprise yourself, baby girl.” Derek flashed a smile before sitting back in his seat. Slowly everyone turned back to what they were doing before, leaving you in pensive thought as you looked out of the window.
Profiling was alluring. It’s just analysis on people, and with enough knowledge you can read anyone. Your thoughts were interrupted by a small voice
“I think you’d be a good profiler.” He spoke softly, giving you a grin before returning to his discussion with Hotch, expanding on your thoughts.
The arrival to Texas was a whirlwind for you. The team landed, drove to the precinct, and were quickly dispatched onto different tasks. Hitch had paired you with Spencer to go over victimologies to find a pattern in the victims lives and how they line up to those in the novels. Finally, hours later the team regroups for the night at the hotel. It doesn’t go without a hitch however, as it turns out that since you were technically not meant to be here, there was a shortage of rooms and, as though god intended to make things awkward, you had to double up with someone. Before any discussion could be had, just assuming you’ll be paired with JJ, Spencer surprisingly speaks up.
“I’ll share with her.” Was all he said, shocking both you and the team, but Derek spoke up
“Pretty boy trying to make a move on our junior profiler?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Soem et who was growing increasingly red.
“No- No that not what- no I mean we were goin- we were going to work- work on her assignment together.” He coughed and readjusted his posture, seeing him flustered like this made you smile “it’s logical if we share a room then we won’t be disturbing anyone travelling between rooms”
The team shared a look you couldn’t read, before JJ asked if you were okay with that, you nodded, you were honestly too tired and slightly overwhelmed and honestly? A bed is a bed, and you were absolutely going to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep once you got to the room. So it was decided, and it wasn’t until you got to the room it dawned on you.
You’re sharing a room with a work acquaintance, albeit a cute one, and you never questioned the bed situation. Entering the room you were greeted by your worry, and that was the lone bed in the enter of the room. You looked up to Spencer to assess his facial expression, he seemed to have forgotten to question the bed situation too. You started
“I can take the couch-“
“We can share” Spencer interrupted. Looking around the room. “It’s logical and hygienic, with the amount of germs on a hotel floor would get us both a lot sicker than any off of a human.” He cleared his throat, almost trying to convince himself. You simply nodded and out your things down and preparing for bed.
Half an hour later you were sat, crossed legged, on one side of the hotel bed whilst Spencer showered. You tried not to think about it and tried to focus on the paper you were reading.
Sure, you knew he was cute. That was just obvious. But you’d never really interacted before today, not in any meaningful way at least. Yet here you are, waiting for him to finish showering whilst you sit in bed. It was strangely domestic. Without you noticing, Spencer had finished in the shower and had emerged, dressed in plaid pants and an oversized MIT shirt. You looked up from your screen to him as he made his way to the other side of the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and looked over your shoulder.
“That’s a good read, I read that last week actually.” He broke the silence between the two and you shot him a smile
“I’m really enjoying it… do you want to read it together?” You weren’t sure if that was a normal thing to ask anyone, you know people read books out loud to each other but reading an authors essay on Abject womanhood off of a laptop screen didn’t seem particularly as appealing. Spencer however nodded, and you shifted to be closer to his side. The tension tho memes between you both
“Is this okay” you asked quietly. Your thighs were pressed together, laptop balanced between. Your arms were pushed together awkwardly and Spencer shifted. Unexpectedly, he wrapped the arm closest to you around your shoulder. This took you by surprise, taking your breath away momentarily and reawakening those pesky butterflies again. Somehow you managed to stutter out a yes before you continued to read. Eventually you both relaxed more into each others touch, loosing yourself in the words of the essay. You hadn’t realised that Spencer wasted reading, but looking down at you, watching how your eyes flicker between words between your eyelashes, and the small cup out of concentration on your lips as you tried to take in the information. His long fingers were slowly tracing delicate lines on your skin, causing goosebumps to form in their path.
Eventually, you finished the essay but hesitated to shut the laptop. Your eyes lingered on the final paragraph, hoping to stay in his touch longer, yet you had to admit defeat, finally closing the laptop and shift slightly up right. Spencer’s arm lingered for a moment before he half heartedly moved it behind you. There was a silence as you both let the tension of what had just occurred sink in. Surprisingly, it was Spencer who broke the silence once more.
“You know many animals cuddle at night for safety, otters hold hands so they don’t drift away from each other.” He trailed, you quirked a brow at him, probing him to continue silently “what- what I’m saying is… if you want we- we can stay. Like this tonight… only if you want!” He couldn’t look at you properly, looking mainly anywhere but your face. Your heart was beating so fast you weren’t sure how to reply, so silently you just nodded. Spencer let out a small relieved breath before moving to lift the covers over you both, and opens his arms to let you in. You oblige gingerly, and slowly he wraps his arms around you. There’s silence as you both settle into each others breathing in the dark.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah Spencer?”
“Do you… think that maybe we could do this more?” His question caught you off guard. You lifted your head to try and make out his features in the dark, he was already looking down at you.
“What do you mean?”
“Can we… do this more?” He squeezed you against him to emphasise his thoughts, he meant cuddle. Slightly surprised you cocked your head to side.
“Do you not do this a lot?” Curiosity overcame you as you detached his eyes in the dark. There was a sadness that was palpable even through the darkness.
“No. I don’t really like people touching me” you try to move away, thinking you may have overstepped but he simply holds you against his chest tighter. “But I like this.” He mumbled into your hair.
Unsure how to process this, you simply nodded. Sometimes people need hugs and, you knew from JJ that Spencer was someone you could trust. So you allowed yourself to melt into his touch for tonight.
“Of course Spencer.” You muttered into his shirt before drifting off into the deep sleep you predicted, yet it wasn’t so dreamless.
Part 2 soon.
“All For You.”
Pairing: Michael x reader Summary: Reader gets injured, Michael heals you and kills for you (we love to see it guys, we love to see it)
You were on a hunt with Dean. Castiel had “angel business” and poor Sammy had to stay back in the bunker to ‘babysit’ two archangels. You felt bad but the older brother kept insisting that you were ‘not mature enough to take care of them.’ He was right. You are and always will be horrible at taking care of someone, let alone archangels.
– A few hours ago –
“Why not (Y/N)? I don’t want to watch over them anymore.” Sam was done with trying to deal with two of the most stubborn beings that he has ever met. You gave an awkward smile and a thumbs-up. “Sam, if you think (Y/N) can be left alone with Mr. High And Mighty and Mr. Pay Attention To Me Or Else, there’s something wrong with you.” His brother explained.
– After the hunt –
You ended up getting horribly hurt. It was supposed to be a werewolf. Not a whole pack of them. Dean had gotten injured too but it wasn’t as bad as yours. Normally, he would berate you for ‘bleeding all over Baby’ but you were losing too much blood. If you didn’t make it back in time, or if Castiel didn’t get his ass down and heal you in time– you would be dead.
Dean drove as fast as he could. Calling Cas didn’t work, so you were left to writhe and groan in the backseat– clutching the wound. “Cas.. where are you?” You heard Dean mutter. If Dean called Cas and he didn’t answer, you knew you was fucked.
They reached back in time, but no one could possibly stop the blood. You needed to be healed and fast. “Sam! Sammy!” Dean yelled, carrying you. You were starting to lose consciousness– you fought it as best as you could. When Sam opened the door, he was shocked. “Shit. Shit.” He panicked, he moved out of the way.
You closed your eyes. “(Y/N). (Y/N)! Stay with me!” A voice pulled you out of it. Your eyes shot open. Sam was basically ripping his hair out and Dean was able to lay you down on a bed. Michael and Lucifer were alarmed by the screaming and came to check it out.
Both archangels froze. They stared at you – well, at your scratched opened stomach more like it, but you get it. “Move.” The older archangel commanded. Dean and Sam stared at him dumbfounded. “I said.. move.” Michael ‘gently’ shoved them out of the way. He put two fingers on your forehead. You gasped for air. The wound was gone.
“What happened?” Michael asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. Dean and Lucifer looked like they wanted to say something but decided not to ruin the moment. “Pack of werewolves..” You replied. “Are they still alive?” You nodded. “Do you have names?” Dean helped you answer. The archangel was gone in a second.
“So.. are we gonna talk about that or..?” Dean started. “Talk about what?” You were confused. “The whole Michael thing…? Healing you, and all that.” You weren’t sure how to answer. To be honest, you didn’t know either. You gave Dean a shrug.
Two seconds (or more) later, Michael was back– covered in blood. Dean and Sam took a double take. “You killed those werewolves didn’t you?” Sam asked. Michael wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes. I did.” He stated. Dean opened and closed his mouth. “Why would you help us?” The older hunter questioned. Michael’s eyes shifted to you.
“I’m not helping you.” He squinted at Dean. “For (Y/N) then?” The archangel shrugged but the answer was quite obvious– yes, for you. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving four confused people to stare at each other in silence. “Never once in my life have I seen my older brother kill for someone.”
alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 04
pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3k rating: sfw warnings: none really
You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe… Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.
prev. || next
“Alright, Jack, I’m going to show you something really important, something you can’t tell anyone about. Not even Dean. Alright?”
The blonde before you hastily nods, eyes wide as he gives you his whole attention. It’s almost childlike, the way he puts everything he has into every activity he does—even nodding to show you he’s listening to what you’re saying.
You know that he is being truthful, and that if you ask him he won’t tell a soul, but for effect you keep your eyes trapping his own, just for a few moments longer. When you’ve ‘deemed’ him trustworthy enough, you let your expression drop into a smile and you smack your hand affectionately against his bicep.
“Great! I knew I could trust you. To be honest, you can maybe tell the others, but definitely not Dean. If Dean finds out…” you make a solemn face. “This whole operation will go down in flames. Got it?”
“Yes, I understand.” Jack says, fidgeting on the spot—he’s curious about what you’re going to show him, you can tell from the way every so often his eyes will flit about, searching the room behind you for something that might give away what you’re talking about. He gives you a bright grin, as though to show that he is ready.
“Excellent,” you say, clasping your hands together. “Follow me.”
You turn and begin moving over to the corner of the room, knowing without even having to check that Jack is following you—like a little duckling, if memory serves you right. You’ve only known him a few days but you know for sure that if anything happened to him you would be killing everyone in this bunker and then yourself. Rosa Diaz has it right.
“Alright, pass me that chair.” As soon as you come to a stop in the corner of the room, you instruct the young Nephilim following you. Without question, he does as you say and retrieves the chair sitting against the wall by a shelf loaded with obscure occult ‘weapons’. The armory is always something that amazes and confuses you with its contents.
The chair drags with a light squeak across concrete floor as you position it where you need it, wasting no time in hiking a leg up and climbing onto the seat. You know what you’re doing, but Jack doesn’t and your sudden movement must startle him a little because you feel him grip your legs by your knees and exclaim loudly.
“Ah, y/n! Be careful!”
Keep reading
y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?
“But don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you.”
— Louis Sachar
It’s that time of the year where I rewatch Teen Wolf/The Vampire Diaries/The Originals/Supernatural and feel like Y/N again.
Lmao!! It’s been a minute.
Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.
maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk
Y/N: *on the phone* Tony? I need your help! I-
Tony: Is the compound on fire?
Y/N: ...no?
Tony: Then, it’s not an emergency *hangs up*
Peter: Well? What did he say? What do we do about the portal to hell in the living room?
Y/N: *shrugs* Apparently it’s not an emergency
Kate: *being strangled by a demon* HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY??
Hissy Kitty😾
Chapter List
Let's see. A one, a two, a three...
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5: Not yet made/in the process.
+?
🃏 Updated everytime there is a new part. 🃏
Taglist@
@jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @hxzbinwrites @alikate82 @angeliclovely69 @line-viper @tsukilover11 @cheshairacat @the-unhinged-raccoon @plapperlapapp @thesimpguru @stevenuniversezanite @random-3455 @hypnossses @crazyforbarnes @ngjhgftujgrtui @haveawanderfulday @dark-stars-and-the-moons-melody @karolinda007-blog @twistedkisses @ghostedddd @viridiya @akiqvq @gracesupremacy @i-like-potatoes12533 @dappersapperdoodle @raeinn @midoria-kinnie @ch1hvro @howdidthishappenomg @readersmood @speedycoffeedelight @atlasalastor @lady-lik3r @michi-keinz @belletifeshyl @fudosl @mydearlybeloathed @uhhhimbored @enby-rising @enbytwink @star-bloom42 @blu3birdprince @+? The rest of the taglist in the comments😼
Whenever I’m sad I think about the fact that Michael Myers does have a sense of humor because this fucker absolutely put on a sheet and some glasses and was like ‘this will be the greatest prank on planet earth just u fuckin wait’
AND IT WORKED SHE HAD NO FUCKIN CLUE
Have you ever been to earth?
On earth, we use the word “burrito” to describe a tortilla filled with things you eat. Pretty simple stuff, and I’m surprised you at least got that part right. My burrito was, in fact, filled with food. In this, you and I agree and are friends. But this is also where my lifelong hatred begins for you and anyone else whose brain has been repeatedly scrubbed with the same mixture of bleach and Pop Rocks as yours has. Because that should have killed you, but left you around long enough to do what you did to me today. Let me explain:
You’re an idiot.
Let me further explain:
Burritos are eaten from one end to the other. So that means when you assemble a burrito with motherfucking ZONES of ingredients going that direction, you create a disgusting experience for the burrito’s end user. When you make a burrito, you should put the ingredients in layerslengthwise. That way, every bite has AT LEAST A FUCKING CHANCE of getting at least two types of ingredients, and there is little chance of becoming almost hopelessly trapped in a goddamned cilantro cavern.
Have you ever eaten one of the things you make all fucking day? You should try one. They are pretty good WHEN YOU ARE NOT WILLING YOURSELF THROUGH THE FUCKING EMPIRE OF SOUR CREAM ONLY TO END UP IN LETTUCE COUNTRY.
When you eat a burrito, you don’t stand it up and bite down on it lengthwise like a fucking Rancor. Humans can’t usually dislocate their jaws, and I’m not a fucking pelican. But you must think that’s how it’s done, since that would be THE ONLY FUCKING WAY to take a bite of your crapstrosity and have it taste like a burrito.
And guess what else, player? You probably can’t guess anything, because I’m pretty sure you’re just a mop with a hat on it that fell over and spilled some shit into a tortilla, but just in case, here’s what:
Humans also don’t eat burritos like fucking corn on the cob. Like a fucking typewriter from one end to the other a little at a time and then DING next line. But today I wish I had tried that. Because at least THEN I would be able to eat some rice, then beans, then be all like HEY BEANS I’LL BE RIGHT BACK JUST GOING OVER HERE TO THE GUACAMOLE FOR A SECOND.
Nope.
My experience was more like HEY BEANS IT’S JUST GOING TO BE YOU AND I FOR A MINUTE UNTIL I CAN FUCKING EXCAVATE THE RICE FROM BENEATH YOU BUT BY THEN YOU WILL BE A FADING MEMORY OH HEY I WAS WRONG I’M IN THE FUCKING CHEESEOSPHERE NOW RICE MUST BE NEXT I HOPE IT’S NOT ANOTHER FUCKING SALSA POCKET.
You built this thing like a fucking pack of LifeSavers.
And don’t even fucking think I’m about to open this shit up and re-engineer your nonsense 90 degrees. I ALREADY PUT A HOLE IN IT WITH MY FUCKING MOUTH. YEAH. THAT’S HOW I DISCOVERED YOU FUCKING SUCK AT LOOKING AT THINGS. I AM NOT GOING TO DO FUCKING TORTILLA ORIGAMI TO GET THIS SHIT BACK TOGETHER, ONLY TO END UP WITH A BURRITO THAT’S BEEN SHOT IN THE GUT AND IS BLEEDING YOUR INEPTITUDE.
What’s that? I should ask you to mix it up first next time? IS THIS JAMBA JUICE? I DON’T WANT TO DRINK MY FUCKING BURRITO THROUGH A BENDY STRAW, AND I DON’T WANT A PILE OF BURRITO SOUP IN A FLOUR CAN.
I just want a burrito.
In conclusion:
You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to the universe, you owe everyone everywhere an apology for this burritobomination, and I hope your babies look like monkeys.
UPDATE FOR EVERYONE WHO SAID “JUST EAT IT WITH A FORK”:
A fucking fork?
I DIDN’T ORDER THE FUCKING COBBURRITO SALAD.
If anyone ever handed me a burrito with a fork, THEY WOULD BE WEARING A BRAND NEW BURRITO HAT FROM MY FALL COLLECTION TEN SECONDS LATER.
That’s like buying a car and having them hand you a fucking wrench with the keys. Like YEAH WE KNOW THIS MOTHERFUCKER’S GOING TO EXPLODE AND BE SPREAD ACROSS EIGHT LANES AS SOON AS YOU HIT THE GAS, BUT SHIT, WE GAVE YOU A WRENCH, SO BE COOL.
Jesus already gave me two burrito forks. One at the end of each arm. They’re called fucking HANDS.
A fork. My god. I haven’t cried since I was six, but I’m fucking sobbing now.
People eat burritos with forks?
God is sorry he made us.
(Source)
fanfiction writers are the literal backbone of society
I can't spot the difference 🤣🤣
It’s that time of year where I rewatch Teen Wolf/The Vampire Diaries/The Originals/Supernatural and feel like Y/N again.
Lmao!! It’s been a minute.
burning out (unplugged) – bad omens
Noah Texts Pt. 2🫡
sorry anon i love you
now…
yall sleeping on this man. Eric Draven???? Theres a TERRIBLE lack of asks about my man right here and that hurts me. LOOK AT HIMMMMMMM
so true
