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nerdlifecentralsblog · 1 year

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Unknown Secrets [3] - repost

Summary: Y/n joins the hunt for the mysterious nephidemon, but she finds out some shocking information that brings them closer to saving this town from the clutches of Asmodeus’ child.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel, Castiel, Mick, Ketch, Asmodeus

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,906

Warnings: none :)

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but here it finally is! <3

I pull up next to Baby in front of the small motel. “So we meet again, beautiful.” I say lovingly, patting the roof of Dean’s beloved car. I walk up to room number 63. The six has a loose screw which makes it look more like a nine, so I hope it really is room 63.

My anxiety is quelled when I see Ketch open the door with a wide, relaxed smile. “Hello, darling. I hope you didn’t spend all of last night trying to research just to show off,” he says while giving me a hug and playfully winks, prompting Mick to shake his head from his spot at a small table across from Sam, whose laptop is open and running some sort of crazy code.

"No, not this time. Although I have always been the brains behind the operations when it comes to you two."

Mick let out a chuckle while Ketch simply rolls his eyes and went to lounge on the couch. Sam then gets up, somewhat awkwardly and offers a quick hug.

"So,” he starts, “me and Dean tried to dig up anything extra we could have skipped over in either demon lore or any offspring they could produce.” I nod for him to continue as he takes a seat and turns his computer towards me. “The only thing that could be a possible lead is the tracking spell Rowena used and there’s been a history of weird weather patterns - especially lightning storms for almost forty years. So that means that either Asmodeus or his child has been here for at least forty years.”

I rest my chin on my hand and think about what could explain this Prince of Hell living in my town for forty years. I mean, how have I never ran into him or seen anything weird even once?

The door opens and in walks Dean with lots of beer and various snacks, along with a pie that I assume to be cherry.

“Alright, what’s the game plan guys? FBI or some basic computer research?” Dean asks, putting away his items and walking over to his bed and plopping down looking at me.

“Sam was just catching us up on the weather stuff y'all found last night.” I respond, noticing Sam’s open laptop. “Although I think it would make the most sense if Asmodeus was here for, let’s say, twenty years, scoping the place out and getting other Hunters to believe that the storms would be normal so no one bats an eye once his child is born, and they could live here for maybe twenty more years, completely undetected.”

After a short pause, Mick speaks up, “It is certainly possible and the most likely lead we have. Why else would he want to risk staying in one area for that long?"

Sam sighs and nods in agreement and slides his computer to face himself again.

"So, y/n,” Dean starts and I pick my head up and look to him, “has anyone ever seemed off to you or someone you heard of being born thirty to forty years ago?”

I snort a laugh and respond. “You named most of the folks in this town. Most people have grown up here all their lives and don’t really have the desire to move away. Not many long term or consistent visitors either.”

Ketch stands up from the couch and walks over to Mick snatching a notebook sitting next to him. He says, “alright, who could be the most likely candidates for being this monster, y/n?”

I rubbed my eyes and leaned back, trying to narrow down who to say, but all I could see were faces morphing into each other and names swirling through my thoughts. “How should I narrow it down?” I ask with my eyes closed for a moment, opening them only because of the sound of Sam typing on his computer and Ketch speaking.

“Let’s start with anyone especially strange or out of the ordinary, people between thirty and forty who have lived here their whole lives, only children, maybe anyone who doesn’t know their parents or their mother died in birth.”

I take a deep breath and start naming people that fit any or all of the criteria Ketch described while explaining which characteristics they have as Ketch writes the addresses that I can remember and Sam types up the list.

It takes us a few hours of narrowing down and organizing everyone into sizable chunks and who our most likely hidden monster is. Luckily, everyone lived nearby and Dean brought back some good food choices. Well, as good as gas station and tiny grocery store food can get.

“I vote we get a move on with this list and split up a bit to cover more ground.” Ketch suggests.

Sam glances at Dean as he says “Works for me. We going for FBI on this one?”

The group nods as Dean butts in saying, “We’ll go through the people in these neighborhoods,” he waves his hand over the section towards the east, “and you three can take the rest.” He says while pointing at me.

“Alright, let’s get ready and get a move on.” I say, standing up and walking out to grab some gear. I can’t help but think how odd it is that I have grown up with these people and all this time one of them could be such a horrible, dangerous creature. My palms almost itch with the anticipation of making my town, and the world a safer place. But I can’t help but wonder if we’re making the right decision.

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

“Last house will be just to the left of Willow Street.” Mick says from the passenger side, directing Ketch to our final stop before it got too late.

I don’t even know how we’re gonna find this nephidemon at this point. No one we’ve talked to all day has said or remembered anything that would help us remotely. Hopefully Sam and Dean have had some better luck, I think as Ketch pulls up to the curb across from the house.

We all climb out of the car and casually walk up to the front door, Ketch and Mick with their badges and me prepared for the endless complaints this case will earn me from the locals for bringing the feds to their doorsteps. But, if I can possibly help out Mick, Ketch, Cas, and the Winchesters with something like Asmodeus or his freak kids, then it’s worth it. The door opens revealing Fred and his wife, Josie with polite smiles on their faces.

“Hey, Fred and Josie! How have you guys been?” I ask, smiling warmly.

Josie responds for them both. “We’re doing just fine, dear. You should join us for game night next time!”

I laugh and nod enthusiastically, about to explain and introduce the two "agents” beside me when Fred beats me to it. “Who are your friends? They visitors?” he interjects with slightly narrowed eyes and hands shoved in his pockets.

“Of course, my apologies. These are FBI agents McCullough and Morgan.” They both hold up their badges with calm expressions. “They’re old friends of mine and have been looking for someone they think might have been hanging around here for awhile. I figured you both have excellent memories and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind us taking a few moments of your day to help them find a potential suspect?” I slightly tilt my head and try to look as innocent and eager to help as possible. Fred and Josie have always treated me as one of their own children and I certainly hope Ketch doesn’t offend them in any way.

“It’s no problem at all. Very nice to meet you gentlemen. As y/n stated I am Josie Hutcherson and this is my husband, Fred.” Josie, being the polite and kind person that she is, shook hands with Ketch and Mick, welcoming us all inside.

One nice thing about living in a small town is how nothing really changes; not the people, the drama, and not any buildings save for the occasional fresh coat of paint or new lamp. Having something constant is always welcome, especially when it feels like the world is ending.

“What case did you say you were helping them with, y/n?” I’m drawn out of thoughts by Mrs. Hutcherson kindly sitting down across from Mick and Ketch, Fred still choosing to stand near his wife with crossed arms.

“They’re trying to track the movement of a very dangerous criminal, they have reason to believe he stayed here awhile back and then left."

Josie smiles at me and turns back to the "agents” to speak, but Fred says, “Uh huh. And why does the FBI want to take up your time in this what I would think would be a highly classified search?”

Fred may mean well, but words were always something he left to Josie. Hopefully he’s only put off by Mick and Ketch, I would really hate for them to be hiding this demon kid.

“Y/n here knows almost every person in this town, and from what she’s told us she is extremely attentive as well.” Mick offers, “We were looking around aimlessly until we met her. My partner actually was interviewing her and she offered to help us look around town for a little bit.” He gave a reassuring smile towards Josie and a firm nod towards Fred.

“Now, have either of you noticed anyone strange at all in the past thirty to forty years? They would be extremely charismatic but slightly arrogant as well. And maybe looked something close to this picture.” Ketch asks while pulling out a picture of the current vessel of Asmodeus. Even though we aren’t sure he was in this vessel when having a kid, it’s the best bet we have in recognizing him at all.

Both Josie and Fred denied anyone acting out of the ordinary or ever seeing that picture before. I could tell Mick and Ketch wanted to keep interviewing Josie since she was more open, so I tried to get Fred a little ways away to get through to him better. “I know that you don’t really care for the FBI and sticking their noses where nothing has happened, Fred. "He uncrosses his arms with a sigh and a reluctant nod. "But this guy is a really bad guy and they asked me who would be the most attentive people to ask about. And you and your wife were the first I thought of, that’s all.”

After Fred agrees to be more open to answering their questions, I smile and thank him before walking back out toward the living room where Mick and Ketch are standing up.

“Y/n, I believe we shouldn’t take up anymore of these people’s time. Thank you both so much for all your help.” Mick says with a kind smile and handshake with Josie, then Fred.

“Thank you Josie and Fred, I’ll come over when I can,” I say with a wave out the door and down the sidewalk. Mick and Ketch also exit and walk back to their car.

“Anything you guys picked up on?” I question, lowering my voice with caution.

Ketch closes his eyes and with a short huff of air responds “Not really. The only odd thing Mrs. Hutcherson mentioned were the persistent lightning storms that drove everyone inside, except for this one time. There was a man and a small child who were outside in the middle of the road, completely unprotected. Just gazing up into the sky for a few hours….”

Thunder, so loud that it feels as though the earth beneath my feet shakes. I look up in wonder as brilliant flashes of lightning take over the dark sky. A warm hand rests on my shoulder, its presence keeping me focused and grounded.

I glance up to the man, who has a prideful smile and warm eyes, and I remember feeling safe despite the chaos and danger surrounding us.

The man speaks, sounding southern and calm. “My daughter, this will be our last night together, I was hoping for more time with you but it’s far too dangerous.” I tilt my head in question, turning to face him more. He continues, “Someday all of this will seem like a dream for you. That’s when your purpose will become clear. And we will be united once again.”

I feel tears starting to form, this is my father, he can’t abandon me now! “But father, when will that happen? And how long after I remember will I see you again?” He bends down to my level taking both my hands in his.

“I know I will miss you, my child, but I would rather feel this heartache than know you are at risk from Hunters. They are so dangerous and you must always be careful around them. Alright?” I nod my head and hug my father, one last time. I hear him speak once more. “I love you, never forget that.” And the whole world goes silent.

I faintly hear voices speaking to me but I couldn’t make out what they are saying. I know it’s Mick and Ketch. What on Earth are they doing here? The entire case comes flooding back to me, the Winchesters, Asmodeus, his kid, my strange hallucination. I struggle to open my eyes met with blinding light and someone, Sam, I think, sitting next to me.

“I’m sorry Sam, but there is no way for me to understand why she fainted. She appears to be in good health, not dehydrated, having enough food and energy. I can’t find anything wrong.” Cas says, slightly leaning his head back from his place at the end of a bed, near a small mirror on the wall.

I try to sit up and ask what’s going on, but Sam gently pushes my shoulders back onto the mattress.

“Hey, y/n don’t sit up yet, alright? You’ve been passed out for a while. Do you remember anything?” Sam speaks calmly and softly, as though speaking too loud may cause me to lose consciousness yet again.

“I remember helping you guys on a case,” I start, realizing how quiet my voice is and how hard it is to speak clearly. “You and Dean went to interview some people and Mick, Ketch, and me did the same. I remember leaving their house and walking out to the car…” I trail off, too unsure of how much I should reveal before learning whether it’s a weird vision, or… a memory? I shake my head at the thought. It’s simply impossible. I glance at Sam then Castiel while saying “I think that’s all I can remember, sorry.”

Sam gives a gentle smile just as the front door opens, revealing Dean, Ketch, and another person. He’s the shortest out of all the men but has a confidence about himself, sandy blond hair that’s longer than Dean’s but shorter than Sam’s, with beautiful whiskey colored eyes.

“Morning, Sunshine. Feeling any better?” Ketch asks, dragging my attention away from the newcomer.

“A little. My brain is still kinda foggy though. What happened?” I ask, looking between Mick and Ketch hoping they can help me discern reality from fiction.

“Well,” Mick begins, “we had finished interviewing the Hutchersons and walked out to our car. I told you what Mrs. Hutcherson had told us about seeing a man and a child during a lightning storm, and you fainted.”

He explained, taking a seat on my other side. I just stared at him for a while, trying to understand what had happened. I’m not a person who regularly faints, and this simply cannot be a coincidence.

“Okay, um thank you.” I say, surprised at how numb I sound. “Also, who are you?” I ask, looking at the strange man sitting at the table with Dean.

He smirks and responds “I’m Gabriel, like the Archangel.” He puts his hands next to his shoulders, waving them to mimic flying.

Dean rolls his eyes while Cas stares annoyed at Gabriel’s actions. I guess that sort of makes them brothers?

“Naturally. Well, I’m y/n and didn’t realize you were joining us.” I tilt my head at Mick slightly and he makes a point to stare at Sam across from me.

“Yeah well neither did we.” Dean speaks up, glancing at Cas.

The angel sighs and faces me “Gabriel was kidnapped by Asmodeus for his grace, a little over four months ago. Ketch used to work with him and was able to get Gabriel back to the bunker.” I look to Ketch who looks down, almost in shame. Then to Gabriel who simply rests his head on his hand and shrugs. Cas continues, “I called Gabriel here since he deserves to be in on taking down Asmodeus, and it certainly won’t hurt to have his help.”

“But enough about me,” Gabriel exclaims suddenly. He looks over to Sam, raising his hands up in question. Why can these idiots never just say what they need to say rather than act all secretive?

Sam takes a deep breath and turns slightly to better face me. “Y/n, I know you’re not going to remember everything. But, ” he pauses, searching my eyes while being careful to not give anything away.

“But…?” I prompt, looking around only to be met with Gabriel staring with anger towards me. Which is unbelievably rude and unfair, considering how I literally just met him.

“But, are you sure there’s nothing else you can remember? Any detail or generic thing?” Sam finishes, with an understanding smile. I don’t know what he could mean by that though, I mean, I was passed out for a long time and I don’t think people can speak while being unconscious in that sense.

I shook my head no after thinking for a moment. Gabriel let’s his head fall back in dramatic fashion while mumbling something under his breath.

“Sorry my answer isn’t the one you wanted, Gabriel.” His head snapped up and glared at me. What is this guy’s problem? “But I barely remember even walking out to the car, let alone any specific details of our last interview.”

“You’re lying,” Castiel said from the corner of the room, a perplexed look on his face. I wanted to ask what he meant but he continued, “you woke up in Ketch and Mick’s car and described something very disturbing.” I try not to shrink under the angel’s condemning gaze; because I actually don’t remember waking up at all until being in the motel. The disturbing thing I described, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget.

“I don’t remember that at all. I had no idea I woke up before five minutes ago.”

Gabriel stands up and snaps his fingers in one motion and I immediately find myself in the backseat of the Impala with Castiel next to me.

“What the hell was that for?!” I say trying to steady myself from falling to one side or the other.

Castiel barely spares me a look and explains “Gabriel snapped us both here to have some kind of privacy I assume.”

I try to open the door handle but Cas reaches over to grab my arm, and locks the door. He refuses to let go of me whether because of my continued swaying or because he thinks I could outrun him or something.

“Okay, and what exactly are you doing here? I wouldn’t think he would want privacy from you if he’s saying his piece.”

Castiel finally releases my arm but gives no answer, and instead, looks out the window.

I do the same hoping that Gabriel and the Hunters don’t take all day.

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

(Back in the motel room)

Y/n and Cas had disappeared from the room thanks to Gabriel.

“Really, Gabe? You probably could’ve just asked them to leave the room for a minute.” Sam says, exasperated with Gabriel already.

Gabriel takes a deep breath and slowly walks around the room, in deep thought.

Dean uncrosses his arms, letting them rest on either side of the motel chair while watching the archangel pace the room, waiting for an answer.

“What have you got to say that you didn’t feel y/n or Cas should hear then?” Mick stands from the bed and asks, squaring his shoulders and walking towards Gabriel with annoyance.

Gabriel pauses his movements, stopping in front of Mick while saying, “Cas already knows what I’m gonna tell you, that’s why he’s with y/n right now.” He turns back looking at Ketch. “She did just wake up after being knocked out for a few hours and I’d rather not be responsible for a casualty already."Gabriel brushes by Ketch to sit on the spot that he vacated. "And I doubt she would appreciate her being told how probable it is that she is this nephidemon we’ve been looking for.”

The room falls silent as the Hunters process his words.

“And why exactly do you think this?” Sam asks Gabriel, a shocked expression on his face. “She literally volunteered to help us with this case without any kind of convincing from any of us. If she is the nephidemon, then wouldn’t she want to get as far away from all of us as possible?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and leans his head against the bed’s worn bed frame, “Sam, I can’t put my finger on it but when I first saw her, she reminded me of Asmodeus all over again.” He slowly opens his eyes, keeping them focused on the ceiling missing the spark within them. I can only assume that kind of trauma doesn’t leave a person - or archangel I guess unaffected.

“Well, try to. We have to figure this out now, or come up with a plan on testing her or something,” Dean says, rubbing his temples still trying to understand how y/n could have played them all along. How she could have played Ketch and Mick for even longer.

Gabriel sighed saying, “I don’t know if this will make you feel better, I doubt she knows herself if she’s related to Asmodeus. She doesn’t act like him at all, and from what you’ve said she sounded confused, scared even by what happened when she passed out.”

The group relaxes but only slightly. “How could she possibly not know?” Ketch thinks aloud, “and why would a single memory or hallucination suddenly reemerge right now?”

Gabriel only shrugs, not really being able to provide any kind of a possible answer or solution. Mick shakes his head and offers “He could have wiped her memory in order to protect her. That is why we initially thought the nephidemon would be here for so long.” Dean slowly nods while Sam rubs his eyes in frustration. “And maybe Ketch describing what Mrs. Hutcherson saw triggered part of her memory to come back; why she passed out.”

The men sat in silence, mulling over everything Gabriel brought up, before anyone could move to suggest anything further, the archangel snapped his fingers and slowly let his hand drop back down to the bed.

“Figured it might be smarter to ask her about it, maybe search her memory or something.” He states, beginning to act a bit more normal, as they wait tensely for y/n and Cas to walk back through the door.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #dean winchester #mick davies #arthur ketch #gabriel #castiel #spn x reader #reader insert

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thymeheals · 2 years

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And Everything Begins to Go Rapidly Wrong Again.

Summary: Still at the ball. Lots of dancing. Begins in fluff, ends in angst.

POV: first person reader insert and Sam Winchester

Warnings: implied past abuse; abusive spouse; injuries briefly mentioned; kidnapping; character capture

Royal AU with the characters of Supernatural

Word Count: 1260

Part 5/? (7 so far) in process

Sam’s POV

Finally, Dean was able to escape fathers itinerary of women for the evening. I made my way back to the edge of the room and grabbed a drink off a passing silver tray. I couldn’t help but look back and smile as Dean’s shoulders relaxed and relief was visible in his demeanor. Y/n really lit up in Dean’s arms. She had really become a great friend to us both. I kept hope that we could rid y/n of the sentence on her head.

“How could you put that fugitive whore in your mothers gown Sam?” I didn’t have to turn toward him to know my father had sought me out. “Did you think I’d forget it and not take notice?” I clenched my jaw to prevent my first responsive thoughts from exiting my mouth.

“Just put aside who you think she is, dad.”

“Put aside!”

“Look at him, that’s the happiest he’s looked all day. He’s carefree with her. Stop pushing him to make a decision on who will be his wife when there’s absolutely no reason tor him to be forced into this. Let him enjoy the time he has left of just being a prince. You know he’ll step right up and be the soldier king you’ve trained him to be when the time comes.”

His father sighed, “Sam this is beyond your brother having a fling. Arthur Ketch, the ambassador from Malta has also taken notice of her presence. Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing you know that she’s his wife.”

“Father you can’t send her back with him!”

John held up his hand to silence his son. “He doesn’t wish to return to Malta with her, but she must be retained at the end of the night. She will return to her cell under heavy guard. Have I made myself clear? There is a public warrant for her life to be served a week from today. I suggest you stop playing matchmaker and get some sense into your head. Now not another word.” King John made his way to Robert the head guard and gave him his instructions. Then retired for the night to his bedchamber with his mistress.

———————————-

Reader pov

After bantering with Dean to lighten his mood. I reach up on my tip toes and kiss him on the cheek as I say, “I hope you’ve had a Happier Birthday than it began this morning.” I blush, smiled and continue, “its getting rather late and I should turn in before I’m tempted to have another drink. Goodnight Dean, I hope one of these ladies catches your fancy. Many of them are beautiful, but go dig deeper and find someone you can be friends with.”

I gather my skirts and head to Sam’s bedroom before Dean can respond and I’m tempted any further to tell this kind man how much he deserves to fall in love and marry one of the breathtakingly gorgeous women my heart is so jealous of. I don’t think I could keep pleasantries up for another second. Why couldn’t I have met him six years ago before I resigned that Arthur was the best I could do for my family. After all he’d gambled away my entire dowrey within the first month of marriage and blamed me for everything. My parents benefitted only the ability to say I’d married an ambassador. I avoided him at all costs when he was home from traveling for work. Luckily he had no interest in children and I was merely a guaranteed warm body when he was in town.

Lost in my thoughts of what could’ve been I opened the door to Sam’s room and walked across the rug covered floor to look out the window while I changed into bed clothes. When all of a sudden I felt two hands clasp around my mouth and arms, as I breathed in a sickening smell slowly I felt my vision go black.

Waking up in small cold dark wet metal room. I can only feel where I am. My hands are restrained behind my back and my ankles are bound. It’s hard to breathe and I realize there’s a fabric bag covering my head. I’m terrified. I don’t know for sure who captured me. It could’ve been King John’s men if he figured out who I was, or if he just saw me as a threat to his plan for Dean. It could’ve been Arthur’s doing if he found me. It could’ve been a random attack on the castle and they don’t even know who I am - just that I was a friend of the princes. It could’ve been a family of one of the women suitors wanting to take out any competition for Dean’s hand. So many variables. I couldn’t catch my breath now. My heart was beating as if I’d ran a race. It was too much. I collapsed into darkness. Again.

The next time I awoke, it was to cold water being splashed on my face and upper body. Shivering, I looked around to find out where I was and just who was attempting to drown me in freezing cold water. My continued panic was making me angry. I had to get a grip on myself. That’s when I saw him leaned against a table, holding a bucket.

“Did you really think you’d get away scathe free for making a fool out of me? Who all have you been with in the village? Just how many? Are they paying you? What a waste.”

“What are you talking about, Arthur?”

“You know good and damn well what I’m talking about, whore. It wasn’t hard to convince his majesty, King John, to allow me take you home and deal with your insubordination. When I told him I saw you kiss his eldest son on the very night the prince was supposed to choose a bride nonetheless. What are you getting at? Do you think you can wreck all of Milan by waging war against me?”

“Arthur, please..”

Smack. My head reeled from his backhanded slap. As I held my hands to my temples my fingers were met with a sharp stubble. I gasped as my hands continued to explore the rest of my scalp not finding the soft long locks of hair that should be draped around my shoulders. Horrified, I looked to my captor for answers.

“That’s right, good luck finding someone to take you in now. The entire country will know of your sins upon sight when you’re escorted through the streets to the gallows.” He walked over to a table to pick something up. I couldn’t see what was wadded up in his hands. But I found out with a stinging lash to my slip clothed back.

He’d whipped me within an inch of unconsciousness. I hadn’t stopped shivering since I had woken up. I had no idea how long I’d been locked away. He didn’t provide me with any food or water. Clearly me living to make it to the gallows wasn’t his priority. I’ve never been this exhausted or this cold in my life. It was simply frigid. There was a disconnect. I had no more tears to cry and no voice left from the screams he’d pulled from my body with each new stinging lick of his whip. I was ready for it all to end. I don’t know exactly when, but I had by now accepted my fate.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #supernatural #alternate universe #fanfic #kingdom au #prince dean winchester #prince!au #prince sam winchester #prince!dean #prince!sam #royalty au #spn au series #spn au fanfic #spnfanfic

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jtownraindancer · 5 years

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Arthur Ketch x Reader: Battered and Bound

It seemed that no matter how far you ran, you were still doomed to find some sort of trouble.

In Albania, vampire cultists abducting any unfortunate backpacker that got too close.

In Peru, a nearly obsolete god raising mischief in every village they came across.

In the Philippines, a mountain that actually was being terrorized by demons.

And now, in Paris, you were facing indisputable evidence of a werewolf pack.

You had just wanted to enjoy your vacation.

Rarely would you be willing to do any form of work in a city this large. Witnesses were hard to keep track of, weapons were near impossible to conceal, and should the wrong person overhear-

Folks were antsy enough in this world. You preferred to keep a low profile.

Fortunately, the right names and the right price were always sufficient to get the information you needed, leading you on what had felt like a wild goose chase through the back streets of Montmartre until you finally spied the door you were told to search for.

More a gate, really.

There was a flight of stairs descending between two buildings, weathered and crumbling after years of overuse and exposure. You thought it safe to assume that most folks were dissuaded by the wrought iron bars and the ancient padlock prohibiting any entrance, but then again-

It was never good to make assumptions on this job.

The lock was easy pickings, and you were soon cautiously descending into the darkness, waiting for the end of your path. Your flashlight revealed a significant amount of graffiti, aspiring Monets weaving with political satire.

Your assumptions were definitely incorrect.

Finally, there was a fork in your route, one path leading to the West, steadily climbing back into the hustle and bustle of the city. The other turned sharply east, with a simple five stair descent to a proper door.

This was your destination.

An ancient film came to mind as you began traversing the labyrinth, an indignant scoff with it.

"'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.'"

You mentally prayed you would not meet a similar fate to most of the characters in the Feldmann classic, taking each step with caution, each breath subdued in an attempt to help your straining ears.

Your guide's wisdom came in handy, another left turn taking you to the open space you were hoping for: lights, clothing, sleeping bags, a few collapsible chairs.

Someone had indeed been living down here, though there was no indication that they were currently in. An advantage, you would hope, as you could potentially set up an ambush for their return.

Sudden movement caught your attention, however, focus drawn to a hooded figure who was tied up near one of the walls. You eased your way over, senses attuned for anything remotely out of place in the dismal surroundings.

Arriving to the captive without incident, you assessed their bindings before daring to remove the hood; you wouldn't let yourself be trapped by your own sense of heroism.

All cleared, you carefully lifted the sack, shock filling you as you took in the face underneath. "/Arthur/?"

His eyes widened in clear surprise, narrowing again almost immediately in confusion, brows drawn together as he traced over your form.

You raised a hand, shaking your head. "It's a long story. I'll tell you after we're done here."

A shift of his head, somewhere between understanding and assent, indicated his temporary dismissal of the matter.

You worked quickly, working through his bindings as carefully as possible. It worried you to see so many bruises on his wrists, so much dried blood on his cheeks. Judging the way he seemed to favor his left side, you also were wary that he had suffered severe internal damage as well, something that would need to be addressed as soon as possible.

"How in God's green earth did they get the jump on you? You're like- You're like the Gabriel Van Helsing of contemporary Hunters."

There was a huff from behind his gag, a flat stare hinting at his annoyance with the title.

Or the film reference.

Perhaps both.

Definitely both.

You ducked your head, but couldn't help your smug grin.

"The great Arthur Ketch, bested by a couple puppies."

At long last, the final thread gave way, freeing his hands. Immediately, he sought out the back of his gag, a slow-moving right arm hinting at damage you couldn't see just yet.

You frowned, tucking the information away for later, before turning your attention to the fabric securing his ankles.

It felt like an age, squatting in the damp passageway of the catacombs, some remnant of superstition waiting for the dead to claim you as one of their own. You would never forgive yourself if you left him here however, incapable of abandoning a friend, especially knowing said friend would owe you a favor for their rescue.

Eventually, he would be free, together you would finish off this pack, and then you could go back to enjoying your vacation in peace, hopefully sans further interruption.

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feirceangel · 2 years

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Imagine | Interrogation (Arthur Ketch)

Imagine Ketch trying to get information on the hunters in America by interrogating you.

Word Count: 512

Warnings: torture is hinted at.

A/n: the gif is not mine.

"This would be much simpler if you just gave me the information," Arthur informs you, stepping back to observe you.

Currently, you're tied to a chair being interrogated by the infamous Ketch. Honestly, you have no idea how this happened.

One second, you're on the phone with Sam and Dean, telling them about your latest solo hunt. You were going to meet up with them for their next hunt, but then someone came at you from behind and knocked you unconscious.

And here you are, in some random basement, looking into the handsome face of the enemy.

You scoff, "You say that you want to join with the American hunters, and yet you kidnaped and tortured Sam, and now you'll do the same to me? You're not very nice, are you, Ketchup?"

"Don't call me that. And, for your information, I had nothing to do with that messy situation."

"Sure," you roll your eyes. Squirming a bit, you try to scratch at an itch on your forearm.

"Now, tell me about the hunters."

"Hmm, let me think. . . Oh yeah - bite me, Ketchup," you glare daggers at the pompous British Man of Letters.

He shakes his head, "Please, don't be this way."

You clench your teeth, "I'm not going to give you any information. This is pointless."

"Let me guess, you're expecting the Winchesters to swoop in and save the day? They won't. They'll never find us here. The sooner you face the facts, the better it will be."

You snort, "Please, I don't need two knights in shining flannel to save me. I'm a big girl, I can take you down myself."

He smiles, "I sincerely doubt it."

Little does he know, that as you conversed, you managed to untie your hands. Luckily, your feet weren't tied down so you're able to leap out of the chair and slam your fist into his smug face.

Before he can react, you knee him in the groin and start to dash up the stairs. It must not be your lucky day, though, since he easily tackles you to the ground. You both roll down the stairs, swearing at the pain shooting through your body.

After a short tussle, he pins your wrists down on the cold concrete. Heat radiates off his body as he looms over you.

"You're a fighter."

You glare at him, struggling against his iron grip. He refuses to let go, instead closing the gap between your lips.

Stunned, you freeze in shock before biting down hard.

Shouting a curse, he yanks away from you and releases your arms. You kick his face and dash madly up the stairs. You get to the door and slam it shut behind you.

You look it in satisfaction before yelling, "You may be fairly good looking, but I hate your friggin' guts!"

Kicking the door in one last display of anger, you leave the house and make your way to the nearest telephone.

You spit to the side a few times, trying to get the horrid taste of Ketch's blood out of your mouth as you wait for Sam to pick up.

When he does, you explain the situation.

#arthur ketch #arthur ketch x rader #female insert #supernatural #spn #supernatural x reader #imagine #fanfic #reader insert

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nerdlifecentral · 2 years

Text

Unknown Secrets [4]

Summary: The reader is confronted by the Winchesters, angels, and British Men of Letters. They are still suspicious of y/n but they let them go home to rest. Y/n instead seeks answers at an old friend's home and tries to work out what to do next.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel, Castiel, Mick, Ketch, Rowena, and Crowley

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,742

Warnings: n/a, reader has a small anxiety attack but nothing crazy :)

A/N: Hello y'all! Thank you so much for this support and patience. I've been at college for a while and my dad also passed away so this chapter is out wayyyy later than I anticipated, but here it is! Hope you enjoy <3

The click of the Impala’s doors jars me from my racing thoughts, Cas glances my way and quickly opens his door, getting out of the car. I’m still feeling the effects of passing out, so hopefully Cas doesn’t just leave me here in case I faint again. Luckily, he walks around the car to my side, carefully opens my door, and helps me out.

“Do you need any help walking, y/n?” Cas asks while watching me hold onto Baby for support.

“I think I just need a second to get my balance back.” Part of me wants to just accept his help and walk back in to get whatever is going to happen over with, but I need a moment to prepare myself since Gabriel clearly didn’t want me to hear what he had to say.

“Let’s get this over with I guess.” I start walking towards the hotel room, still a bit shaky but Cas is right by my side in case I faint again, or if I tried to run I guess.

“Why do you say that?” Cas asks, focusing his eyes forward.

I scoff, “It’s pretty obvious, Cas,” I say looking at him, “your brother clearly has some kind of issue with me and didn’t want me around to hear what he has to say about me.” Cas slowly nods his head and keeps facing forward.

We reach the front door which Cas opens, stepping to the side and letting me walk in first. It’s very obvious that whatever Gabriel had said made everyone uncomfortable, even Mick and Ketch were looking at me like I was a killer or something. Since Gabe has since occupied my spot on the bed, I instead opted for the chair next to the door.

The atmosphere is so tense, I feel like I can hardly breathe. “So, what the hell, Gabriel?” I say, with zero response. Cas shuts the door and locks it, standing right behind my chair, as though I could actually go anywhere right now.

“We need to ask you some questions, y/n.” Ketch offers, making brief eye contact with me then looking back at the floor.

“Alright, well what kind of questions other than are you secretly hiding Asmodeus’ kid - which I am not by the way,” I say, looking up at Cas, still pissed at both him and his dramatic brother.

“We need to know everything that you remember, every last detail no matter how dumb or insignificant," Dean says.

"But I already-"

"And don't say "I already told you everything, please believe me!" Because that's clearly not true, alright?" Gabriel interjects, standing swiftly from the bed, every word dripping with anger. I look into his eyes, hurt vivid in the whiskey color, stabbing at my heart till my eyes begin to water.

I look down at the floor, knowing everyone's eyes will hold the same hurt and distrust. "I swear, on my life, that I have told you everything," I say, voice shaking and on the verge of crying or passing out again. I wish I hadn't bothered on this hunt in the first place. "And if you still don't want to believe me, then fine don't," I say looking back up to Gabriel. Nothing changes in his eyes, Sam sighs and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

"Y/n?" Ketch asks. I glance at him but I can't read him at all, I look back to the floor and lean into the side of my chair. "You're sure that is everything you remember?" I nod and keep looking at the floor.

I can't stand the anxiety creeping up, the image of Gabriel's hate-filled eyes filling my vision. I can’t exactly blame him though, if I was sure that someone in front of me was the child of a monster that tortured me for months, I’d want them dead too. “Oh god, does everyone here want me dead then? I mean, I understand Sam and Dean not immediately believing me, but Ketch and Mick surely don’t”. I vaguely hear some footsteps walking towards me.

I realize it's Mick as he crouches down and gently takes my hands in his. "It's alright, " he says, "look at me when I say this, okay?" I take a shaky breath and look at Mick, seeing years of trust and friendship in his face.

"The reason why we keep asking you is because when you were unconscious, whatever you were seeing or dreaming about, it had to do with Asmodeus..." I feel my chest tighten, I had thought it was just some twisted nightmare or my brain reacting oddly with the information I heard before I passed out. I don't even know how to respond.

"Anything you wanna say that would clear this up?" Dean asks. Though it sounds more like a command than a question really, not that it matters anymore, at this point I'm at these people's mercy.

"I'm one hundred percent sure, I don't know what you're talking about." I don't even bother meeting anyone's eyes out of both guilt and exhaustion, I should just go home at this point. "There isn't a way for me to prove it, but I seriously am lost on what you guys are talking about at this point. So unless you want to tell me what happened, I'm feeling pretty shitty so it'd be great if I could just go home and rest, that okay with you?" It's silent for a moment, and I look up to see Sam and Dean locked in a stare.

Sam slowly nods and so do Dean and Castiel. I shakily stand, and Ketch offers to help me to my car. I roll my eyes, "Gotta still keep an eye on me huh?"

"You did faint, twice so yeah I'll stick with watching out for you." I nod and give a weak goodbye to everyone and grab my jacket, keys safely inside and walk out the door, Ketch following close behind.

"You know I believe you right, y/n?" Ketch says, offering his arm for me to hold onto. I truly don't deserve him or Mick, especially risking their reputations for helping me out. I hope that whatever I saw has a logical explanation for once. I hold onto his arm, his other hand coming up to gently hold mine, a reassuring gesture that calms my nerves.

"I'm glad you do, it means the world to me," He hums in thought, "Just wish everyone else would I guess." The rest of the walk to my truck is quiet, an odd occurrence with Ketch but welcome nonetheless.

"Thank you, Ketch, for believing me and everything," I say as I climb into the driver's seat. He only smiles and tells me to be safe but my mind is already somewhere else, as I watch him walk back towards the motel room, I think of options on how to handle this situation. I just lied to four strong hunters, an angel, and an archangel.

And if I came clean now I think it would only make things worse, maybe an old friend can help this whole thing get better and not worse.

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

The light ring of her doorbell draws me out of my thoughts, I certainly hope she's home, the only other person I could go hideout with is - “No, I’m not hiding,” I need information before jumping to dangerous conclusions “I'm searching for other possibilities.” The only other people I could ask about this are Mick and Ketch, and I doubt that would go over well.

The front door clicks open, and Rowena immediately envelopes me in a hug. "I haven't seen you in far too long, y/n! How have you been?" I smile and hug her tightly, thank god she's home.

"I've been good! You're right it has been too long. Um, could I come in for a second?" Her smile falters for barely a moment, confusion clear on her features.

"Of course, dear. Are you alright?" I swiftly walk inside her apartment and turn to face her.

"Can you promise me that whatever happens, you won't tell Sam or Dean anything?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, did they do something I should know about?" Rowena asks, raising her chin with an air of confidence and protectiveness.

I merely hold my head in my hands, my elbows resting on my stomach, and pause a moment, wondering how to break the news. "Do you remember doing a spell for the Winchesters a while ago? One that had to do with Asmodeus?"

"Yes I do, took me a few tries to get it just right but it got them a location for the demon. I heard you were helping them in this case, is that why you're here?"

"Well yes and no. I was helping them on this case, but they didn’t ask me to come visit you," I turn around and walk further into her home, taking a seat on one of her armchairs. "I had a weird vision and I don't know what it means but long story short, the Winchesters, Castiel, Gabriel, and possibly Mick all think I'm the nephidemon they’re after."

I look up at Rowena, hoping for her to keep this secret. We've helped each other out of rough spots before, I'm sure she can do it again.

"Okay, tell me about this vision of yours." She states without judgment, taking the seat across from me.

I told her everything I can remember, and everything that happened after in the hotel. At some point in my retelling, she gets up and makes a quick drink for us both. Smells strongly of cinnamon but tastes more like a kind of tea.

Rowena takes her seat across from me again and cautiously says, "I don't mean to add anything negative to an already distressing situation, but that vision sounds a lot more like an old memory resurfacing." I nod, I already had a feeling that was the answer but hearing from her makes it so much more real. "I'm assuming you didn't tell any of the boys about this memory," I nod again, "And you're needing a place to lay low for a bit?" A knowing smile gracing her face.

"That would be the best thing right now, Rowena. Thank you." She smiles and waves her hand in a shooing motion.

"It's no problem at all, I do love your company." I laugh and fully relax for the first time since I left the motel today.

"Is it possible for you to do the spell again, but with the map only showing this city to see if I'm the thing Sam and Dean are hunting? Otherwise, it's probably back in my town and I'd rather be sure."

Rowena sighs and glances away for a moment, "That spell used a lot of rare ingredients so it would take a little finessing, of course, you're welcome to stay here while you figure everything out."

"Thank you so much, Ro, I owe you one."

"Make it two," she says, a playful smile evident.

"Deal. I just hope they don't try to find out where I am right now. I told them I would be staying home until I felt alright to help them with the hunt."

"I know Samuel knows where I live, but don't tell them where you are for now, who knows what they'll do if they think you're Asmodeus' child."

"Yeah, especially Gabriel."

She hums in agreement, deep in thought again. She looks back over to me and asks, "I'll probably need some help, finding the ingredients needed for the spell and all that, would you be alright if I gave my son a ring and let him know what's going on?"

"I've only ever heard of him but yes. If you could tell him to not tell anyone else then I'm totally fine with him being in the know for this situation." Although I don’t personally know her son, Rowena is loyal to a fault and I can only assume he was raised with that quality.

She stands up and claps her hands together, "Excellent, I'll go call him up right now and we can get this plan in motion." I watch as Rowena leaves the room and faintly hear her talking on the phone with I assume to be her son. I allow myself to get lost in my thoughts, I haven’t truly had a moment to myself where I could focus on processing everything the boys back at the motel said. Time seems to pass by extremely slow, hours have probably passed but there’s no real way to tell. I’m practically sleeping while sitting up with all the exhaustion catching up to me.

There was a slight noise behind me. I spin around to see someone standing by the door, a man with a beard and long black overcoat.

“Rowena!” I call out, grabbing my knife from my belt as I jump to my feet. The witch came back into the room, hanging up her phone, the strange man doing the same.

“Y/n, there is no need for that knife,” I look from her to the man across from me, slightly lowering the knife but keeping it out in the open, “allow me to introduce you to my son, y/n this is Fergus, Fergus this is y/n.”

The man pockets his cellphone, I hadn’t even realized he was holding one at the time. He then walks over and sticks out his hand, “Crowley, actually,” I shake his hand and place my knife back in its spot on my belt, “I have heard many things about you, and I have what you and my mother need to test your theory.” He gestures to Rowena, then a table in the next room covered in ingredients, sitting next to a small map of the immediate area. I have no clue how he could have possibly gotten all those ingredients this soon, but I’m certainly grateful he and Rowena are willing to help me.

“Wait, how on earth did you get all of these things so fast?” I ask.

Crowley laughs and replies cheekily, “I have my connections and a number of them owe me a favor or three, figured now is a good time to call them in.” I nod, looking between him and the table containing my fate. “Plus, it has also has been hours since you came here so I did have some time.”

“It’s been hours?? No, that’s not possible. I know I completely lost track of time but I’ve been sitting here for hours? I hope Ketch hasn’t tried to call me or anything, not like I have any answers for him yet.”

“Alright, let’s do this then,” I say, walking to the table and sitting down in front of it. Rowena and Crowley follow suit standing on either side of me. They begin saying the spell, adding different items as every word is spoken. Rowena beginning, and Crowley continuing where she leaves off. The tension builds as every second passes, I almost start shaking with anxiety but I take a few breathes to try and calm myself down.

A flame erupted and covered the map, making me jump in surprise. At first, it seemed as though the fire would destroy the whole map, but then as suddenly as it began, it went out. Leaving behind Rowena’s apartment building and the surrounding area. My only reaction is to sit deeper in my chair and pray to wake up from this nightmare.

A grounding hand falls gently onto my right shoulder, I know it’s Rowena but I have no idea what expression is on her face. Crowley cleans up the mess of the charred map and carefully disposes of the used up ingredients.

“Crowley,” I say, still looking at the table where my fate was revealed. I hear him come back to my left side and hum in recognition, “is there any way you can convince the Winchesters that I have a reason for not returning to this case? I feel like they are already suspicious of me and this sudden disappearance certainly doesn’t help my case.”

The demon remained silent for a moment. I look up and realize he is focusing on Rowena intently. I hope he isn’t asking her to stick her neck out for me more than she has already. I know both of their reputations with the Brits and angels are shaky at best. And it won’t take very much for the Winchesters to go back to hunting them like another monster.

“Well, the best thing I could do is have you call them and say you have a sickness of some kind, and you have to figure out what’s going on before you can continue the hunt in person.” He glances between me and his mother, and I feel her move. I turn to see her nodding her head, unsure if it’s for permission or as encouragement.

“How would they know you were in contact with me without looking like you were hiding something?” I question. I really do appreciate Crowley risking his life for me, but I can’t just expect it right off the bat.

He smiles mischievously, “I have my ways darling,” I nod with a small smile, “however,” Crowley continues, “then you have a tough choice to make.”

“And what could that possibly be, other than needing to seriously consider making me disappear to avoid whatever the other hunters of the world would want to do to me as some kind of disastrous hybrid?” I can tell that my little outburst concerned Crowley and Rowena, both stiffening and standing taller. I just hope it doesn’t deter them from keeping this a secret.

Crowley clears his throat and waves his hand in front of my face saying, “First of all, in case you haven’t heard, Lucifer had a child. Jack is his name, and even though his father is and always will be a monster that should be destroyed, Jack is one of the kindest so-called monsters to exist.” He grabs a free chair and drags it over to sit eye to eye with me. His eyes are earnest and his face caring, “You can hate yourself later, but right now there is no time for that. You’ve already given the Winchesters far too much time alone with too little information on why you’re not there. So, the tough decision is to choose between saying you’re doing so bad that you can’t afford to even take a phone call from them,” I look at him in disbelief. I mean, does he really think these people will believe that amount of bullshit?

“There’s no way they would ever buy that. They may be trusting but they aren’t stupid.”

“You’re completely right, dear,” Rowena chimes in, “the other option which they will be more likely to believe, is that you can still help with research, tracking possible demon signs, and call them if you have any ideas. But it’s best to go to someone you trust to see what made you faint and feel ill.”

“I wonder who those people would be,” Crowley chuckles at my comment. I know it’s going to be hard to lie, and even harder to tell a convincing lie, but there is no other way to protect people. I can’t stand the thought that all my life, I was protecting my town from horrific creatures when I should have just left and gone underground from the very beginning.

“Y/n, I know how you became a Hunter, and I know it breaks you inside thinking that you weren’t fully human these years. But don’t lose sight of all the good you’ve done, the lives you’ve saved and changed.”

“You a mind-reader or something, Ro?” I question the witch. She merely laughs and winks as she walks over to my go bag sitting on her beautiful couch.

“Now all that’s left to do is give those boys a ring.” She hands me my phone and I scroll through my contact list, landing on Ketch’s number. This has to happen at some point, if I keep them all in the dark it will only make this situation worse.

My screen then lights up with his contact picture, I guess he decided to give me a call instead. I answer it worried about what he might say. Rowena and Crowley quietly left and whisper in the room next to me as I pick up the phone.

“Hello, y/n. How are you feeling?” I sigh with relief, he still sounds like a friend, not a suspicious ally.

“Hi, Ketch. I’m glad you called,” my voice shakes a bit with nerves, I’ve never lied to him or Mick and now the Winchesters and two angels are on their side. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m not doing as good as I was hoping today.”

He lets out a long sigh, “I was worried you might say that. Is it just leftover effects from the fainting episode?”

“To be honest, I think the faint was more of a warning. I don’t think I’ll be there for a while.” I’ve never been good with silence over the phone, but with this big a lie to the person I trust the most, the situation is already weighing on me.

“Well,” he finally answers, “you do know we happen to have two very capable angels here that would be more than happy to figure out what’s going on with you.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the main problem.” I think sadly, “Yeah, I know, I happen to have two very capable experts that I’m going to go see about this weird sickness.”

“If you trust them, then that’s all that matters. Just keep me updated okay?”

It hurts hearing the care and patience coming from Ketch, I’ll have to make sure that no one ever realizes anything is off with me. “Will do Arthur, and hey, I’m sure I’ll be fine to do some research or demon sign tracking. Don’t count me out just yet.”

He laughs, sounding more confident, “Good with us, give me a call whenever you meet with these specialists, so I know you’re in good hands.” I promise to call him and quickly hang up. I don’t know what I did to earn such an amazing friend, but now I almost wish I never met him.

#supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fic #reader insert #sam winchester #dean winchester #crowley #rowena #gabriel #arthur ketch #mick davies #castiel #x reader #x y/n

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butiaintgonnaloveem · 4 years

Text

Keep Me Company

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader

Word Count: Approx 3300

Warnings: Adult language and situations, non-overly graphic sexual times

A/N: Written and submitted for @wi-deangirl77‘s That’s Some Supernatural Schitt writing challenge. Thanks for being patient!! And my gosh, @plaidstiel-wormstache was a magician with her beta skills.

Set sometime after S12. Arthur Ketch and the woman in this story have an established relationship. You know how it goes, something casual develops into something more...maybe.

Arrogant.

That’s what he is, but the word’s not sharp enough to be an insult. Not one he’d care about anyway.

“You seem a bit wound up. Something on your mind?” he asks.

She wants to tell him that she hates him. It’s the easy thing to do. It’s not even like he’s a good person, but it wouldn’t be true and he’d see it for exactly what it is - antagonism.

Always polite, patient, and god damn glorious in bed. He’s done nothing outright to deserve such wrath, either. Except for doing nothing out of the ordinary at all.

“How so?” she tries for casual and evidently fails based on the look of annoyance he throws her way.

“You’re quiet. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re bored.”

“Well…” she trails off, unsure of what to say or how to say it. She knew what came next - sex. Of course, before that there were drinks. Her glass would never be empty, from bar to table to the hotel suite, which is not usually the issue. Then there was dinner, followed by a dessert that would be left unfinished at the table. As she mulls it all over, she wonders if maybe that was where this night went wrong; unfinished thoughts clouded by alcohol, or maybe the wine was too relaxing. Either way, the brain to mouth filter malfunction was unstoppable.

“You should be nicer to me,” she blurts out.

That gets an eyebrow lift in response, then a squint as he thinks over her words. “I do believe I have behaved like the gentleman I was raised to be.”

“That’s not,” she heaves a sigh as she collects her thoughts, “I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then by all means, please elaborate,” he says as he sets the cloth napkin on the table and sits back. He’s letting her pick this fight and he knows it.

“I don’t appreciate being put on the spot.”

“I don’t appreciate my companion keeping secrets from me.”

That word. So emotionless and generic. It’s what sets her off.

“You know that you sound like Humperdinck?”

“What?”

“Your voice, your accent. You sound like Prince Humperdinck from ‘The Princess Bride.’ He was an arrogant asshole too.”

His lips purse and she watches the corner of his mouth twitch. “What, exactly, does that have to do with our evening?”

“Nothing. It just annoys me.”

He scrutinizes her, “I see.” He calls for the check and doesn’t bother to initiate further conversation. He still gets up first and helps to pull out her chair for her. Then guides her with a hand at her waist, and steps forward to open doors.

The car ride is silent aside from the quiet music playing and while it’s not comfortable, she’s also foolishly not telling him the night is over. Her back aches from the tension and from twisting her body to face away from him and toward the window. The dark tinted glass doesn’t give much of a view of the outside, but she can watch his reflection from time to time as it catches the light and catches him with that damn smirk of his.

Arrogant and smug, what a combination.

When they finally make it into the hotel suite, he drops the careful grin he used in public, twisting his neck with obvious annoyance.

“Well now, shall we talk like adults or do you plan to insult me for the evening?” He pulls the door closed behind her and then moves to the closet, meanwhile she stands still in the entryway of the suite, stubborn.

“I can do both.”

“As fun as that sounds, it’s not what I had in mind for our time together.” He removes his jacket and hangs it in the closet, smoothing down its front before turning back to her.

“Right, because that would mess up your routine, and here we are already ahead of schedule.” She turns so the zipper of her dress is facing him, “Go ahead, let’s do this.”

He pauses with one hand at the knot of his tie, ready to loosen it. Again, the look of scrutiny aimed her way. “Ahead of schedule? What does that mean?”

She turns to him and sighs, her expression flat, she was fed up. “It means, Arthur, that every time we do this, it’s the same thing. A call, a fancy dinner, drinks, dessert, then back to the hotel suite, another drink, you undress me and then we end up in bed.”

“It’s more than that,” he argues half-heartedly, “And you’ve never left unsatisfied.” It almost sounds like a question, or perhaps an accusation.

“That’s true, but…”

“But what?” he steps closer, hands in his pockets and face unreadable.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Her face burns hot, hating herself immediately for how needy it sounds.

He stares, his face unchanging. His breathing measured and posture the usual - upright and commanding.

Her body burns hot and cold while her stomach twists and flips. She’s afraid to move because just about anything might set off the instinct to cry at the moment, either from anger or embarrassment. She tries to keep the tremble from her voice as she asks the next question on her mind.

“Maybe this one is easier: would you miss me if you never saw me again?”

“You know that in this line of work--” He begins, calm, rehearsed, but it angers her further.

Arrogant, smug, and standoffish.

“I am not asking for promises. Jesus Christ, I know exactly how things are, I don’t need a speech about how we might die on a hunt, about how we need to focus on the bigger picture. Okay? I know all of that.” Her face falls, “I also know that you are not the heartless killing machine that people describe you as.”

He opens his mouth to deny it but she cuts him off.

“No! No, Arthur. I mean, yes, you kill, but you’re allowed to care for people too. Like it or not, you cared for Toni in some way I will never understand, and,” she hesitates, “And there was Mary Winchester.”

He visibly reels just at the name, but does well to keep control over his reaction, not letting much more out even as he speaks. “Why? Admitting something like that puts us both in danger, allows others to use it against you, and for what? A moment of happily ever after? To satisfy your curiosity or to feel as though you’ve won?”

“You’re not void of emotion, no matter how hard those bastards tried to beat it out of you. I feel like you care, and I’ll admit that I want you to. But whether you honestly do or don’t, I just don’t want to feel like a whore you pay for with an expensive meal and a hot shower. If nothing else, don’t you at least consider me a friend? Or is ‘companion’ really the best I am ever gonna get?”

In a blink, he resets to a more neutral expression, lips only slightly pursed as he thinks. “Is all this really because I called you my companion at dinner?” He turns and moves to a marble counter, pouring the bourbon into two tumbler glasses. He hands one to her and out of habit, she takes it, hand trembling, holding it to her chest as she watches him take a large sip.

“I don’t need you to tell me anything that isn’t true.” Her gaze drops to the amber liquid in the glass, “I don’t need promises or anything else. But, what I do want is to know that I am not just a placeholder, or a warm body.” Looking back up, she checks he’s listening, seeing if her words are hitting their mark, “I care about you, and I would sure as hell miss you if you left my life after tonight. I just...I just want to know that...God this all sounds so much worse than I imagined.” She turns and paces away, fingers swiping along her bottom lashes to collect the tears gathering.

“I thought you weren’t asking for promises,” he accuses.

“I’m not!” She erupts. She immediately realizes it was the wrong reaction as he squares his shoulders and widens his stance for an argument. After taking a sip and letting it slowly roll down her throat, she softens her tone and tries another approach, “I’m asking for emotion, for you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see a difference.”

Arrogant, smug, standoffish, and dense.

“You’re serious?”

“I would hardly call myself an expert on this subject. And by subject, I mean genuine human emotion. Though, you know, it never ends well for those who want the best of both worlds. Believe me, it’s best to draw the line right there.” He tells her, using his free hand to indicate an imaginary line, but failing to meet her eyes.

And there it is, slight as could be, but still a chink in his armor. There was the man she knew wanted affection, but denied himself at every turn.

“Yeah, I am getting that. For all your skills picked up from the Men of Letters, how are you so terrible at this?” She takes another sip from her glass, “Nevermind. Do not answer that.”

Arrogant, smug, standoffish, dense, abstentious.

She takes a moment, weighing the pros and cons of her thought before expressing it out loud, “Do you think that avoiding happiness is going to keep you from being hurt?”

He scoffs, slipping the tie loose from his collar and pulling it from around his neck. In an uncharacteristic move, Arthur drops it onto the chair nearby instead of neatly setting it away. He sips on his drink while considering the question, eyes wandering like the answer might suddenly appear written on the walls. Moments pass during the quiet, but when he finally lifts his head to speak, his expression has softened.

“I don’t avoid happiness.” He talks as he sets his drink down and moves towards her, “I have plenty in my life to keep me happy,” he takes her drink from her hand, “I try, and evidently fail, to avoid attachment or sentiment.”

He takes her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing across her knuckles, then turning it over and gently placing a kiss to her palm. He then turns her hand again, leaning his cheek into it, meeting her curious gaze.

“I see the weakness in those who invest too much in others. I’ve felt it in myself. Misplaced expectations and projections of fears and needs muddling things up.” He grips her other hand and holds it between their chests, tight but not too tight. It’s meant to keep her attention on him, not that she could focus on anything else when he’s that close and unguarded.

“With something to lose it’s nearly impossible to make the hard choices, and that is who I am. I’m the one called in for the less appealing jobs; someone with nothing to lose and no one to leave behind.”

“Arthur,” she whispers, heart aching and chest tight with hurt. But not by his words this time, by the truth in his tone. Hurt for him.

“It’s alright, love. It’s the role I play,” He lets their hands drop from his cheek, his grip loose in her hand, but she clutches it tighter.

“Do you really believe you wouldn’t leave anything behind?” She asks, watching him, waiting for another flicker, some small flinch to indicate he would let himself have this.

He frowns at her, like an animal that can see so plainly the object of desire, and yet knows there’s a trap they can’t make out. He pulls his hand from hers and turns.

“Nothing but ghosts, and maybe a few women,” He huffs, trying to turn the heaviness of the question into a joke.

That’s it, that’s the last rejection she can take. She turns for the door, even opens it, before he’s in front of her, stopping her, eyes full of terror for abandonment.

“Don’t leave,” tries to order, but winces at the desperation in his voice.

“Ask me to stay,” She whispers. “Or tell me that I mean nothing to you and let me leave. You really can’t be that desperate for a fuck, can you?” She stares at him dead-on, letting him hear it in her words, and read it in her body language that she isn’t bluffing.

“I…” He clears his throat, straightens his shoulders, trying to gain control of the situation, while fidgeting with discomfort. When he doesn’t say anything, she makes another move for the door behind him.

“Stay.” He watches her, as if unaware he’s said it.

Vulnerable. A word she never thought she would use for him.

She doesn’t need him to say it again, she heard it loud and clear. It doesn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction as she stares back and eloquently asks, “What?”

“You know, I don’t often make requests unless I am certain I will get what I want,” he tries for the usual Ketch swagger, but it sounds more broken than anything.

“I couldn’t have been more clear that all you had to do was ask.”

“Then stay?”

They watch each other for a few seconds, making certain that neither would move. She lets go of the door, allowing it to slam shut behind her, then puts a hand at the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss her. He’s pliant, but steady as he goes along with her guidance. His one arm reaches around her waist while the other spreads wide at the back of her head, holding her mouth to his.

His feet move along as she shuffles them back toward the bed, but he stops them before they can tumble onto the sheets.

He pulls away, eyes steely blue and dark, and huffing breaths against her cheek. “It was never my intention to make you feel unappreciated.” His fingers move while he speaks, nimble fingers pulling down the zipper of her dress and letting it fall open and loose on her back.

She looks up at him, making certain he sees the genuine acceptance she offers, “I know.” She shrugs her shoulders, letting the straps fall and the fabric begin to fold down and around her, caught over his hands.

He slowly begins to lower himself down to the ground, onto his knees, hands gently skimming over her body, her dress following, before both rest at her hips, eyes never leaving hers. “I certainly never intended to make you feel unwanted.”

A trembling breath passes between her lips while she looks down at him. He stares back confidently yet penitent as he kneels in front of her, hands spreading over her as though eager to grab, but full of restraint and remaining tender.

“I fully intend to make it up to you,” his voice is soft and steady. His thumbs move to meet at the center of her stomach, just below her belly button. Then, with fingers spread wide, he slides them down, pulling the dress until it falls in a circle around her feet. He hums and looks her up and down appreciatively, “Many, many times over.”

Sometimes he can be vulnerable and affectionate, too.

She looks up and says a silent ‘thank you’ to no one in particular. Her hands rest at her sides, sometimes flinching when his touch almost tickles, but patiently waiting as he teases her. His lips skim along the skin above her underwear, and his hands roam across her lower back, ass, and the backs of her thighs. His breaths are warm and controlled, heating her skin as he moves close, but not exactly to where she is starting to grow wet.

Her own breaths become shaky and uneven as she waits for what feels like an unfair amount of time, one hand clenched in a fist as she debates just shoving her fingers into her own underwear to get things moving along. With the other, she pushes through his hair. It’s longer than he’s kept it before, and she can feel where it’s twisting into curls at the ends. Her fingertips tickle along the back of his neck, just under his hairline, feeling the sweat already start to dampen his collar.

She pulls her hand back to drag her nails through, drawing a low growl from him that she feels more than she hears. He tilts his head with the movement her hand as it strokes through his hair and he stares up at her again, pink splotches marking his cheekbones and giving away his excitement.

“You can really get started with that anytime now,” she tries to joke, but it’s edged with desperation.

“As you wish,” he says with a playful glint in his eye.

She gasps, “You -” but doesn’t finish because of course he takes that moment to start to press his thumb in circles of pressure over her, making her nerves tingle, setting off a rush of pleasure. “Ohh. More,�� she whispers.

He cheekily replies again, “As you wish.”

Vulnerable, affectionate, playful.

There is no stopping her smile now, “You bastard,” she accuses, but the insult falls as flat as she does as he pushes her down to the bed. She lands with a surprised laugh which turns airy as he pulls her underwear down from her waist.

He starts to kiss at her calf, moving his way up her legs with his mouth and hands constantly wandering, massaging, tickling. “I am a bastard, but I still know the classics. I am certainly more like Westley than you give me credit for.”

“Tell me how perfect my breasts are then,” she mumbles.

He chuckles and stops at the tops of her thighs, muttering something that sounds like an affirmation before he uses just his fingertips to graze along her sensitive skin. He watches for a few seconds as he spreads her wetness back and forth. She feels the heat of his breath as he moves in, and gently presses his lips and the tip of his tongue against her. When he places his mouth on her, she immediately bucks up into him, greedy for pressure and movement.

With a blink, he turns his look upward, leering at her. His lips spread slightly as he applies more pressure, allowing two of his fingers to tease at her entrance, all while he watches for her reactions.

She remains still, playing along with his little game for a moment, but when he slides away, just shy of where she wants his fingers, she loses all patience.

“What happened to making it up to me?” She pushes herself up to rest on her elbows.

He shifts himself onto the bed until he is face to face with her again, looking her over as though trying to memorize her.

“Well, you are going to stay, aren’t you?” He stares into her eyes as he waits for her answer.

“Yes,” she tells him, unwavering.

“Well then,” he slides back down her body, stopping to kiss across her collarbone and down one breast, and then the other. The soft kisses tickle more than they linger, but lead in a direct path back between her legs, where he settles on his knees on the floor. “I’ve got time, haven’t I?”

Thorough. That’s another word for him.

#arthur ketch x reader #arthur ketch fanfiction #arthur ketch fanfic #spn fanfic #spn reader insert #arthur ketch smut #spn smut #my writing

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winchesterwords · 3 years

Text

“Champagne and Charm” Ketch x F!Reader

Request from lilacprincessofrecovery : hi i have this dream about meeting ketch and im a curvier girl but i want ketch to help the reader like her stomach? or anyone else in supernatural really? Idk its ok if you dont im not good at making reqyests

Word Count: 1152

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Sweet Creature” by Harry Styles

Note: Okay, I am not that great with embracing my own curves, so I hope I did okay with this.... Ketch isn’t someone I know inside out when it comes to writing, but I think I managed to do alright with his character. Also: while this is a reader insert technically, the reader is curvy as per request so just lettin ya know.

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The lavish hotel room was warmly lit as a champagne bottle chilled in a silver ice bucket.

Arthur Ketch lazily lounged against the headboard watching as you poured yourself another glass of bubbles. In the professional sense, you were a contact for the British Men of Letters living in America. Ketch had met you not too long ago when the two of you had run into each other while on a hunt in Nova Scotia.

The British Men of Letters had caught wind of multiple sirens acting in one area which in itself was odd. You had been passed along the case by a fellow hunter down in Maine and jumped at the chance. Meeting Mick and Ketch had been interesting, to say the least.

Mick was nice enough, but he wasn’t much of a hunter when you had been introduced. Ketch, however, well he was everything a hunter should be and more. You tended to work jobs alone, but even you had to agree that this would require all hands on deck.

All three of you managed to finish the job quickly and just before you headed back home, you had casually slipped your number into Arthur’s jacket. That is how you now found yourself in the current situation.

Anytime Ketch was available, he made his way to the states to visit you. You were curvy, strong, and packed a hell of a punch when it came to a fight. However, there was something about Arthur that made you just melt at the sight of him. He was the one person in a long time to make you feel that way.

Currently, Ketch was in America trying to convince a pair of brothers to work alongside him and his organization. You liked Ketch a lot, but there was no way you would take him up on the offer if he had offered it to you. When it came to the Winchester brothers, you knew they weren’t going to go along with it either.

You had never met the brothers, but every hunter in the country knew of their reputation and the company they tended to keep. You thought the Brits were incredibly brave considering the Winchesters had both Angels and Demons on their side. They even employed a witch at times. You only hoped that Ketch knew what the hell he was doing.

“Any update on Mick?” You asked, sipping from the flute in your hands. With a sigh, Arthur approached you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“No more Mick talk and no more discussing the flannel monkeys,” Ketch said, running a hand down your spine.

“Flannel monkeys? Is that what we’re calling them now?” You asked, very amused.

“We can call them whatever we want as long as we table the discussion for now,” Ketch said. He then reached over and plucked the glass from your hands and set it down on the table. “Come dance with me,” he whispered.

“There isn’t any music, Arthur,” you said, trying to hide a smile.

“Who says we need any?” He asked as he spun you around. You laughed as he took you in his arms and swayed back and forth, smiling the entire time.

Looking up at him, you felt so happy. Arthur took your hand, spun you out of his arms, and then back into them, your back hitting his chest. When his hands slid up your waist and then over your stomach, you froze.

Ketch noticed your hesitation immediately and then dropped his arms. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked, instantly worried. Turning in his arms, you began shaking your head.

“No, no, I just...uh…” you weren’t exactly sure how to put any of it into words, the way you were suddenly feeling.

“What?” Ketch asked, patiently.

��I’m...shy,” you tried, though that didn’t seem like the right word either. As Ketch looked at you, you began to feel odd. Your hands came up to cover your middle and you began to shift on your feet. Something you always did when you were nervous or when you were overthinking. In this case, it was definitely a bit of both.

After a moment, he seemed to understand. “You’re self-conscious,” he said softly and you narrowed your eyes, attempting to deny it even to yourself.

“I wouldn’t say that…” you said, trying to play it off, but Arthur raised one of those dark eyebrows of his and you caved. “So what if I am. I’m allowed,” you argued. Arthur smiled down at you.

“Why?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“My stomach it’s not exactly…” you trailed off again, gesturing with your hands.

“It’s not what? Beautiful?” Ketch asked with a scoff and you jumped slightly at his words. “Because you may need to look in the mirror again, Darling.” You rolled your eyes, but Arthur wasn’t backing down.

Stepping closer to you, he placed his hands on your hips. “May I?” He asked and you took a breath and then nodded. Ketch slid his hands up your sides, lovingly. “You are stunning, (Y/N),” he whispered. “Sexy,” he said as he leaned in and kissed your cheek. “Brilliant.” His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he ran his hands across your abdomen softly.

Your hands lay on top of his, trying not to meet his eyes, feeling the blush that crept up your cheeks at his words. “Arthur,” you said softly, breathing in the smell of his cologne.

“Every strand of hair,” he continued, “every little smile, and every curve is everything I see when I go to sleep at night. No matter where I am, Love, you are on my mind. You are so beautiful and I can never be truly worthy of you. I love you, all of you, I never want you to forget that.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly brushed it away. You looked up at him and took his face in your hands, leaning up. He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him swiftly but with love in your heart.

“Arthur,” you said again.

“Yes, Love?”

“Take me to bed,” you whispered against his lips. With a grin, Ketch lifted you into his arms and spun you around to the large bed that took up most of the hotel room. Laying you down, he kissed you from your lips, down your neck, across your collar bones, all the way to your stomach. When he returned to hovering over you, he gazed down at you.

“I know Angels exist, but nothing compares to you,” he whispered. You laughed, grinning up at him.

“That is so cheesy,” you said.

“You love it,” he said with a wink and then you pulled him back to you, relishing in the feel of Arthur Ketch as he proved just how much he loved you.

#Arthur Ketch Imagine #SPN imagine #reader insert #Supernatural Imagine #Arthur Ketch #Ketch x you #winchesterwords #SPN FIc #SPn #supernatural

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader

Word Count: Approx 3300

Warnings: Adult language and situations, non-overly graphic sexual times

Set sometime after S12. Arthur Ketch and the woman in this story have an established relationship. You know how it goes, something casual develops into something more…maybe.

#guppy fic #submission from primary blog #arthur ketch #arthur ketch x reader #reader insert #other pairing #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #submission

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flightsoffandom · 4 years

Text

Ketch-ing Feelings Part 5

Pairs: Arthur Ketch x Gender-Neutral Reader

Words: 2630

Summary: After running from facing your feelings the time comes for you and Ketch to actually talk about the feelings the both of you share.

Continuation of Ketch-ing Feelings. Part 1--Part 2--Part 3--Part 4--Part 5*

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. This will be the last part for now, just because I have other things I want to work on (I do have another series with Ketch I have been fleshing out).

Warning: I don’t really think it needs a warning but just in case. ‘Glorifying’ of violence. In the real world I wouldn't support or approve of that kind of behavior… buttttt… in the fictional world I like a bit of overprotective violence (I'm kinda assuming most of the people who read this do as well… because I mean… this is Ketch I’m writing about.)

In the middle of the night, you start having a nightmare. The usual you're being chased and dying kind of nightmare. The unusual part was instead of waking up in a cold sweat, the nightmare just ended. With no bad dreams for the rest of the night after that. Meaning you slept through the whole night. When you wake up in the morning the first thing you notice is that you're being spooned. You felt trapped until you woke up enough to realize who it was. Ketch’s chest was against your back and his arm was wrapped around you. You laid there for a good while. Unable to stop the comforting feeling this gave you. Maybe even dozing off again for a bit. When you were fully ready to stay awake you started thinking about your feelings. That was something you wanted to avoid. So you try to move Ketch off you. However, his hold on you tightens in his sleep. You quietly huff trying to think of how to get out of this. You accept that you are stuck here in bed for a bit longer. You were content laying there until a warm fuzzy feeling started to creep into you. That's where you drew the line. You didn't want to just lay there and think about your feelings. You elbowed Ketch, causing him to groan. You felt bad waking him up, but wanting to escape thinking about these serious feelings won out. Ketch starts moving, “Hell was that for?” You grab his arm and move it, “You trapped me in the bed being all clingy.” He easily releases you. You stand up quickly, already getting ready to put on clothes. Ketch scoffs, “If I wanted to get any bloody sleep then I had to.” You glare at him, “Really?” You sounded ruder than you meant to and the look on Ketch’s face showed that he heard it too. You ignore his look and go back to getting dressed. Ketch sits up, “Yes really. You were having a nightmare and it's the only thing that calmed you down.” You blush, glance back at Ketch. You quickly turn your back to him, trying to hide as much as possible. You heard Ketch get off the bed, “Are you going to explain why you are being so flighty?”

You pull on a shirt, keeping your back to him. “I… uh…” You tried to find any excuse to push this conversation further away. This was a very delicate game of emotional chicken you and Ketch had been playing. One of you would become serious enough to talk about it. When the other stepped up then one of you would back down again. You sat in a chair and pulled on your shoes. You felt bad for acting like this but the tight knot of anxiety in your stomach kept you from wanting to think about it. You had faced down all sorts of monsters and never felt as nervous as you did right now. Even last night when you almost died. It only edged this out because of the whole inches from death thing. These feelings and this conversation you would have to have at some point was a close second. The silence in the room was almost deafening. You could see Ketch starting to get impatient out of the corner of your eye. But by some blessing, his phone rang. Ketch audibly hissed when he looked at who was calling. You looked up and you could already tell it was the British Men of Letters calling him. Ketch turned and stared you dead in the eyes, “We aren't finished with this.” Your eyes go wide and you nod in agreement. You knew you had to face this at some point so you just accepted it. When Ketch answered the phone you could already hear him trying to explain where he rushed off to. It even sounded like he had gone against orders to come and find you. You knew that the British Men of Letters took following orders very seriously. You hated the idea that Ketch was in danger because you were afraid of real feelings. Fight or flight started to kick in again. Part of your brain told you to run far far away but you knew that wasn't what you actually needed or wanted to do. You wrote a note for Ketch. Settling on a middle ground of running off to the bar just down the street.

Ketch had been on a call with the base for a while now and you used this as an opportunity to slip out of the hotel room. Were you still avoiding talking about your feelings with Ketch? Definitely. At least this time you left a note and only went right down the street. You figured if you got a few drinks in you it might make the conversation easier. So you walked to the bar and headed inside. A few people were scattered about but for the most part, it was dead. Considering it was only noon you weren't surprised. You ordered a drink. Taking your time and trying to relax. When you got to your third drink you still weren't feeling anything. Your attempt at relaxation was ruined by someone pulling at your arm. You turn around and come face to face with a man reeking of alcohol. He starts talking, “Hello there, wanna go have some fun?” You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “No thank you.” You try to turn around but the stranger grabs your arm again. He keeps trying, “Come on. You'll have fun.” You growl, “I said no.” You turn around again. Downing your drink getting ready to leave. Before you get up you feel the drunk’s hand grab your ass. You whip around and punch him right in the face. The man falls to the ground holding his nose, “What the fuck?” You ignore him as he scuttles backward on the ground. When you look up from the ground that's when you notice Ketch standing near the entrance of the bar. Ketch was glaring at the drunk who was fumbling to leave. Ketch then looks up at you. You sigh and turn around, figuring he would be coming over to talk to you.

You played with your empty glass for a few minutes, waiting. When Ketch still hasn't come over you turn around, confused. Ketch was nowhere in sight. After thinking about it you were pretty sure you knew where he was. You put money on the counter to pay for your drinks before leaving. As soon as you exit the bar you hear what you expected. The groans of someone getting their ass kicked. You follow the sound to a nearby alley. Ketch wasn't even trying to hide as he was beating the shit out of the drunk that grabbed your ass. You tilt your head to the side. A part of you was really into Ketch’s whole overprotective attitude. Ketch did always seem to enjoy fighting someone. It may not have been the healthiest reactions on both of your parts but all hunters were a bit fucked up. You let Ketch hit the man a few more times before stopping him. “Ketch, enough.” Ketch freezes, dropping the bloodied man to the ground. Ketch looks up at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You were mad but at yourself for being into this display of excessive violence. You sigh, “Let’s go.” Ketch is surprisingly compliant, walking right over to you. You turn around and start walking back to the hotel. Ketch walks beside you, “He deserved it.” You glance over at Ketch, “I never said he didn't.” Ketch furrows his brow, “Then why do you look particularly upset with me.” You'd never seen Ketch quite this worried about your opinion of his behavior. You can't help but chuckle, “I'm upset with myself, not you.” Ketch looks confused, “Why?” You roll your eyes, “Because I was into seeing you kick that guy's ass.” Ketch is quiet for a second, “Oh…” He ponders your statement, “Oh!” You look over at him. Ketch smirks, “Well people in our... profession and with our inclinations are usually attracted to violence and danger. I think it's quite normal for you to be ‘into’ that sort of thing.” You laugh, “Of course you do.” You finally get back to the hotel. Heading up to the room. You look back at Ketch as you step through the door, “Let’s have that talk I've been putting off.”

You stand to one side of the room, pacing a bit. Ketch eyes you trying to figure out where this is going. After a few minutes of silence, he speaks up, “If this is about us shagging then don't worry about it. It’s a casual thing and we can forget about it.” You think over your words carefully, “Do you always act like this with 'causal' relationships?” Ketch raises an eyebrow, “Which part?” You started to feel like both of you were dancing around the same subject. You narrow your eyes at him, “Overprotective, sweetly possessive...” You let yourself trail off. Ketch crosses his arms, “Quite... I-” You could tell he was lying already so you interrupted him, “-Ketch…” You just stare at him. Ketch sighs, “No. I wouldn't normally behave in such a manner with an individual I was casually involved with… at least I wouldn't react like that with someone I didn't have... feelings for.” He was avoiding revealing too much of his own feelings by dragging out his response. You couldn't help but laugh. Relaxing enough to stop pacing as you speak, “So the reason I've been avoiding you...” Ketch watches you, still tense. You bite at your lip, “You at least have some experience with Toni but...” You think for a minute before continuing, “I’ve never been in a real relationship and the idea of being that dependent on someone scares the shit out of me. So after we slept together and started feeling…” You try to think of an appropriate word. When you can't you just throw your arms up annoyed and continue, “feelings I took the first chance I got and bolted.” You avoided looking directly at Ketch. You weren't sure if it made any sense but it was the best you could do. Ketch states, “Whatever you would call the situation between Lady Bevell and myself, it was not a relationship. It doesn't even compare to this." You look back up at Ketch. Ketch looks you in the eyes and adds, "She’s not even in the same realm as you.” You feel yourself starting to blush. You let a smirk slide onto your face, “Flatterer.” Ketch gets a smug look on his face, “You ran off and almost ended up dead to avoid being dependent on me. When in fact I had to come to your rescue.” You frown, crossing your arms. “I think you're extremely oversimplifying it but kinda.” Ketch gives you a sympathetic shrug, “Not the most rational of choices… but one I understand.” Ketch takes off his suit jacket, “Feelings are complicated, messy and can be a liability...”

He neatly lays his jacket on the bed, “You mentioned your dependency on me but it goes both ways.” You give him an inquisitive look. Ketch continues, “The week you were gone demonstrated just how reliant I am on you as well.” You take a few steps closer to him, “How so?” Ketch sighs, sitting down at a table in the room. He motions to the chair across from him. You take the offer. Walking over to him before sitting down. Ketch has a torn look on his face, “I was…” He pauses, meeting your eyes once again. “I am questioning certain loyalties I have…” You furrow your brow but stay quiet so he can continue. Ketch looks away, tapping his fingers anxiously on the table. “When a direct order from London told me to just ignore the fact you were missing… I choose to disregard it.” You were shocked. The British Men of Letters could be ruthless to anyone who disobeyed orders. So Ketch willingly doing so to save you, put himself at risk. You frown, “Ketch… I’m sorry… I don't want you to be punished… or worse because of me.” Ketch scoffs, “The choice was made. Whatever comes to pass I don't regret it.” Ketch offers you a genuine smile. It may have been a cliche but you could have sworn you felt your heart skip a beat. Then you felt it ache as you thought about the situation. You had joined the British Men of Letters for their sales pitch. You even stuck around when they revealed their darker side of the business. You may not have realized it then but you knew now. You had stuck around for Ketch. You got lost in thought. Ketch clears his throat, switching back to his normal less serious tone. “Well, with that whole ‘sensitive’ rubbish out of the way. I say me and you give it a go.” You chuckle, “Why not?” Ketch gets a cocky look on his face, “We have already seen that you would quite literally die without me around. So I don't think you really have any other options.” You roll your eyes, “You're never going to drop that are you?” Ketch shakes his head, “I shall hold it over your head as long as I can.” You smile, “Fine, I can live with that.”

You slip back into the thought Ketch had pulled you out of just a minute ago. You look at him, “Can I bring up one more serious thing, before we go back to the unhealthy coping mechanism of ignoring our feelings and covering it with sarcasm?” Ketch makes a curious noise, “As long as it is only one thing I suppose.” Ketch tone was teasing but the serious look came back over his face. You tap your foot nervously, “Pack a bag and keep it in my car.” Ketch tilts his head. Bringing this up could be a touchy subject but you had to. So you continue, “A bug out bag of sorts... So that if something happens with this whole London loyalty issue then I can get you as far away from them as possible...” You look at him, “You and me can just disappear. I have some contacts and other things we could use.” Ketch studies your face as you talk. You felt a nervous feeling in your stomach. You huff and add, “I don't want to be the reason you get killed.” There was a long moment of silence. Well maybe it was short but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. You didn't look at Ketch, worried about his reaction to your request. You could already feel the urge to run but you ignored it. Ketch finally broke the silence, “I'll have it ready as soon as we get back to base.” You finally look back at him. Ketch’s answer was sincere and you could see him seriously thinking about something again. You reach out and grab his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Thank you, Arthur.” Him agreeing to a form of back up plan made you feel a thousand times better. Ketch returned the gesture and squeezed your hand back. You both sit like that for a bit. You slowly take your hand away, deciding to think about less serious things. You grin at Ketch, “How about we repress those thoughts with some scotch and maybe even sex?” You stand up. Ketch smirks, “Oh there will be no maybe about it, pet.” Ketch grabs your ass and pulls you down onto his lap, “We will be having a lot of sex.”

Part 1--Part 2--Part 3--Part 4--Part 5*

#supernatural #arthur ketch x reader #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #gender neutral reader #Supernatural fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #gender neutral #Arthur Ketch #ketch x reader #ketch-ing feelings

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

To the Ends of the Earth 7

Supernatural

Warnings: OOC Gabriel

Story Summary: AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what's best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

_______

You woke up the next morning to Gabriel not being in bed beside you. With a yawn, you got out of bed and headed down the hallway. Sam stood in the kitchen cooking while Dean was in front of his TV.

“Morning.”

You said sleepily. Dean gave you his usual “its early don’t talk to me” wave. You didn’t expect anything more from your oldest brother until he had about two cups of coffee. Sam, meanwhile, turned in your direction.

“Hey. Want some pancakes?”

You nodded. At least Sam was able to cook pancakes. Dean’s were usually either too burnt or too gooey in the middle. No one wanted to touch Dean’s pancakes!

“If you are the one cooking them then yes.”

Dean made an “mhm” sound from his chair.

“I see how it is.”

Dean muttered before going back to his block of Scooby-Doo. Sam rolled his eyes then looked back to you.

“Yes, I am the cook today.”

You gave him a thumbs up before looking around the room. It was really odd that there was no Gabriel around. Usually, by now, he would have wrapped himself around you like a giant cat.

“Sam, have you seen Gabriel?”

Sam nodded, not bothering to turn to look at you.

“Yeah, he said that he had something to deal with. He should be back soon. Speaking of which, Dean and I have a small hunt in the next town over. After breakfast, we are heading out. Keep an eye on Jack for us.”

You groaned. As much as you like Jack, you were sick of being the one to babysit people around the bunker or do all of the research. It had been ages since you had been on an actual hunt! You didn’t consider rescuing Dean from the angel back at that hotel a real hunt.

“What do I look like? Some kind of den mother?”

You mumbled, choosing to ignore Sam’s scowl. The last thing that you really wanted to do at the moment was to argue with either of your brothers. That didn’t sound the least bit appealing!

Walking into the dining room, Jack sat at the table looking at a small picture. He quickly put the photo away as you sat down. Raising an eyebrow, you chose to look down at the pancakes that Sam put in front of you.

“Here you go grumpy.”

Sam said with a smirk before turning to meet Dean at the steps.

“Okay you two...we will be back soon. No parties or anything too wild.”

Both Sam and Dean smiled at the matching frowns that Jack and yourself had.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You grumbled as they walked up the steps to leave. Jack sighed from his place at the table.

“Are we always left out of everything?”

You nodded.

“Here lately.”

The two of you sat in remote silence for a few moments. You were quickly becoming more and more irritable by the moment. Gabriel usually told you when he was going to be away. Today he didn’t. Now Sam and Dean were back to sideline you. You felt like Sam did when Dean “put him back at the kid’s table” to go hunting with Ketch.

“Not to be nosy but who is Ketch?”

You looked up at Jack’s question. Jack was clearly not meaning to read your mind. He looked almost embarrassed at even asking the question at hand.

“Some British bonbon that my older brother wants to be pals with.”

“Bonbon?”

Jack questioned. You smirked. The last thing that you really wanted to think about was Arthur Ketch and his weird fascination with you. The guy definitely needed some hobbies or to go to a strip club. He just needed something to get his mind off of you.

“He used to be a part of the British Men of Letters. Arthur Ketch was a big thorn in our side for a bit but now we are pals...apparently.”

Jack tilted his head.

“And he likes you?”

“Unfortunately. Gabriel is about to crush his dreams though. I can only hope that I can be around with my camera when the two of them meet for the first time. It's going to be glorious.”

Jack smiled.

“I don’t see Gabriel being too pleased with another man having feelings for you. Gabriel seems a bit...intense over you.”

You nodded.

“It’s the soulmate thing. So, what were you looking at earlier that you hid when I sat down?”

Jack went scarlet. He looked down at his lap timidly before meeting your questioning face.

“It was a photo of my mother.”

You expression softened as Jack spoke quietly.

“I’ve never met her but I miss her so much. It's the only photo that I have. I think that it makes Dean uncomfortable.”

“Damn it, Dean”

You thought angrily. In the time that you had known Jack, he had never once talked about his mother and now that was making sense.

“Screw what Dean feels. How do you feel?”

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Sad. I feel sad because I know that my being born killed her. I feel lonely because I will never truly meet her. She was a beautiful kind person and didn’t deserve the things that happened to her...I miss her so much and I never really met her.”

Jack looked down at his lap so you wouldn’t see the stray tear that was threatening to spill from his eye.

“Jack...I’m sorry. Sometimes bad things happen to good people but good can always come out of anything. You’re right, your mother didn’t deserve to die but you are a great person. I know that we really haven’t spoken much but I really like you. I can tell you right now that you are not a thing like your father. If it makes you feel better….I know how you feel. I lost my mother too.”

Jack’s head snapped up.

“You did?”

You nodded with a sigh.

“I did. I feel guilty over it too. Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Jack watched as you took off down the hall and disappeared into your room. After a few moments, you slowly walked back into the room with a framed photo in your arms. Sitting down, you slid the picture across the table to Jack.

“This is my mother. Her name was Kate. This is my twin, Adam. They were both killed by ghouls. I blame myself for their deaths. Gabriel said that they fulfilled their purpose and I should let it go. I think Sam and Dean feel the same way but I can’t stop thinking that. I know how you feel, Jack.”

Jack sat silently looking at the photo. He could see the resemblance between Adam, Dean, and yourself. Kate and Adam looked so cheerful in the photo ....so full of promise. They reminded Jack of his own mother’s photo.

He slowly took the photo of Kelly from his lap and slid it across the table to you.

“My mother was beautiful too. I know what Sam, Dean, and Gabriel tell you but it isn’t right. You’re entitled to your feelings. I could sit here and tell you all day that it wasn’t your fault but that doesn’t change your thinking. I’m glad that you understand how I’m feeling. I’ve felt alone...for a long time.”

“You’re not now.”

You said softly before getting up to put your untouched pancakes on the counter. All of a sudden, you weren't so hungry. Jack and yourself stood in a brief silence. The two of you were clearly thinking about your dread mothers.

“Jack, do you know where your mother is buried?”

Jack looked back up with a sad nod.

“Dean told me. Why?”

You were thoughtful for just a moment.

“Get your jacket. We’re going. We need to put some flowers on her grave or something.”

Jack quickly stood and pulled on his jacket that was on the back of his chair.

“I don’t think that Sam and Dean wants us to leave the bunker. What if Gabriel comes back and can’t find you?”

You scoffed.

“Screw Sam and Dean. I’m an adult too. They aren’t my father. I don’t even know where Gabriel is. I’ll leave him a note or something.”

Half an hour later, you stood beside Jack in a small cemetery. Jack had placed a small bouquet of roses on the grave in front of him. He stood in silence looking at his mother’s tombstone with sad eyes.

You reached down taking his hand in yours and laid your head on his shoulder.

“You can talk to her you know.”

Jack looked even sadder.

“She won’t hear me.”

You cleared your throat, fighting your own tears. Hell, you didn’t even know the woman and you were wanting to cry for her.

“Jack, I tend to believe the dead hear a lot more than they are given credit for. I think she can hear you. She may not respond the way that you want...but she can hear you.”

You slowly let go of Jack’s hand.

“I’ll go wait by the car. Take as much time as you need.”

Walking back to the car, you kept an eye on Jack’s form. You felt relieved when you saw his mouth moving.

You didn’t tell Jack but you had done the same thing at your mother’s grave many times. It made you feel better in the moment but the grief always returned. You knew that you should have told Jack that nothing would ever make the pain go away but now didn’t seem the time.

Arriving back at the bunker, Sam and Dean jumped up when you walked in with Jack. Dean looked like he was about to call 911 or some emergency 800 number.

“Where have you two been?”

Dean questioned immediately. You waved your hand.

“We went out. Everything is fine. Is Gabriel back yet?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Your boy toy hasn’t shown back up yet. Don’t worry he isn’t a child. I think with him being millions of years old he will be able to find his way back to you. Unless he gets distracted and forgets what you look like or something...in which case I would totally be okay.”

You felt your mouth drop. Dean was still pissy over your relationship with Gabriel. So much for actually being happy that you found love.

“Shut up, Dean.”

You growled. Jack patted your back.

“She took me to my mother’s grave so I could have some closure.”

Both Sam and Dean froze. Sam looked down at his feet before nodding.

“That was very nice. Are you okay, Jack?”

Jack nodded sadly.

“Yes, I think that I am going to go have some alone time.”

Jack walked out of the room before leaving you alone with your two older brothers. You waited until they were out of the room before rounding on Dean.

“Are you happy? I took him to his mother’s grave because he is so sad about her! He was looking at her photo this morning and felt like he had to hide it.”

“He doesn't have to do that.”

Dean snapped. You laughed bitterly.

“Really Dean? He sure feels like he has to because of you! He feels just like I do! I can never talk about my mom because you seem to think that I should just put it behind me. It isn’t fair for Jack! Shame on you for making him feel that way!”

Before Dean could respond a voice cut in.

“Excuse me?”

You groaned.

“Oh god, please tell me that isn’t Arthur Ketch.”

Sam nodded. Ketch looked at you with a displeased scowl. He was still trying to figure out just why you had to be so difficult to conquer.

“It was.”

You groaned.

“Ketch, don’t you know how to knock?”

This was that last thing that you wanted to deal with! Between worrying about where the hell your archangel had vanished off to and the events of the day with Jack; Ketch didn’t fit in.

“Good to see you too, my dear. I didn’t come to pay a friendly visit. I found something that apparently belongs to you.”

You spun around freezing the moment that you saw Ketch practically holding Gabriel up. Gabriel looked completely trashed to hell!

“What the fuck did you do to him?!”

You shrieked before running over. Ketch slowly sat Gabriel down at the table. You knelt down in front of your angel and attempted to touch his face but he flinched away. Ketch sighed.

“It wasn’t me if that is what you are asking. I was on a hunt when I ran into him dealing with his older brothers who for lack of a better term ganged upon him. It's lucky that you weren’t there, Y/n. I have a feeling that you wouldn’t be living.”

You put a hand over your mouth. Fucking Michael and Raphael! Of course, they were behind this!

The better question was, what was Gabriel thinking trying to face both of his brothers alone? It was no wonder that he didn’t tell you where he was going. Now, look at him! Your heart broke at the vacant expression in his eyes and how he flinched every time that you touched him. It was almost as if he had no idea who you were.

You were no longer listening to the conversation with Ketch and Dean. Every fiber of your being was breaking into a million glass shards!

“Gabriel, please.”

You whispered softly as Sam walked over.

“Y/n, let’s try to get Gabriel in your room. We can figure out what’s going on and maybe see how to fix him.”

You quickly stood up as Gabriel’s eyes slowly looked in your direction. Swallowing, you tried to ignore that feeling in your mind that said his eyes seemed...dead.

Sam took a breath before reaching out and pulling the archangel up. Gabriel tried to yank away from Sam as the youngest Winchester guided him to the door. You started after the two but stopped before turning back to Ketch.

“What happened, Arthur?”

Ketch shrugged.

“It looks like Gabriel’s brothers wiped his memory and drained him of his grace.”

You groaned and put a hand to your temples.

“Thanks Ketch.”

You decided to not stay in the room and witness the rest of the conversation between Dean and Ketch. Gabriel needed you now.

Walking into your bedroom, Sam stood with his arms over his chest while Gabriel sat on the other side of your bed on the floor. All that you could see of him was his now extremely messy hair.

“What is he doing?”

You asked. Sam sighed.

“Hiding from me. I’m going to leave you at it. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You waited until Sam was out of the room before slowly walking across the room. Gabriel sat with his knees drawn up to his chest. You swallowed before kneeling down in front of him.

“Gabriel, I don’t know what Michael and Raphael did to you but I’m going to figure it out then I am going to kill the ever-loving shit out of them.”

As you stood up, Gabriel reached out and grabbed ahold of your hand. His eyes still looked dead but he didn’t immediately let you go. Fighting back a sob, you slowly knelt down beside him.

“Do you know me?”

Gabriel made no move to respond or even look in your direction. You sighed and gently stroked your hand over his.

“I’m something special to you...at least I hope that I still am. Gabriel, what were you thinking of going after the two of them alone?”

The two of you sat in silence. You leaned your head back against your bed. It would be great if life would stop screwing you for the moment! For once in your life, you found someone that you could actually love romantically. There was no way in hell that you would let Michael and Raphael take Gabriel away from you now!

______ @knight-of-gleefulness

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@tas898

@supernaturalways

@authoressskr

@shaylybaby2032

@wontlookaway

@stuckinsaudi1

@untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover

@summer-novak

@mycuddlycorner @shitfaceddaniel

@deanwherescas

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@emiwrites3reads

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@li0nh34rt

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nerdlifecentralsblog · 1 year

Text

Unknown Secrets [4] - repost

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel, Castiel, Mick, Ketch, Rowena, and Crowley

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,742

Warnings: n/a, reader has a small anxiety attack but nothing crazy :)

A/N: Hello y'all! Thank you so much for this support and patience. I’ve been at college for a while and my dad also passed away so this chapter is out wayyyy later than I anticipated, but here it is! Hope you enjoy <3

The click of the Impala’s doors jars me from my racing thoughts, Cas glances my way and quickly opens his door, getting out of the car. I’m still feeling the effects of passing out, so hopefully, Cas doesn’t just leave me here in case I faint again. Luckily, he walks around the car to my side, carefully opens my door, and helps me out.

“Do you need any help walking, y/n?” Cas asks while watching me hold onto Baby for support.

“Let’s get this over with I guess.” I start walking towards the hotel room, still a bit shaky but Cas is right by my side in case I faint again, or if I tried to run I guess.

“Why do you say that?” Cas asks, focusing his eyes forward.

“We need to ask you some questions, y/n.” Ketch offers, making brief eye contact with me then looking back at the floor.

“Alright, well what kind of questions other than are you secretly hiding Asmodeus’ kid - which I am not by the way,” I say, looking up at Cas, still pissed at both him and his dramatic brother.

“We need to know everything that you remember, every last detail no matter how dumb or insignificant,“ Dean says.

"But I already-”

“And don’t say "I already told you everything, please believe me!” Because that’s clearly not true, alright?“ Gabriel interjects, standing swiftly from the bed, every word dripping with anger. I look into his eyes, hurt vivid in the whiskey color, stabbing at my heart till my eyes begin to water.

I look down at the floor, knowing everyone’s eyes will hold the same hurt and distrust. "I swear, on my life, that I have told you everything,” I say, voice shaking and on the verge of crying or passing out again. I wish I hadn’t bothered on this hunt in the first place. “And if you still don’t want to believe me, then fine don’t,” I say looking back up to Gabriel. Nothing changes in his eyes, Sam sighs and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

“Y/n?” Ketch asks. I glance at him but I can’t read him at all, I look back to the floor and lean into the side of my chair. “You’re sure that is everything you remember?” I nod and keep looking at the floor.

I can’t stand the anxiety creeping up, the image of Gabriel’s hate-filled eyes filling my vision. I can’t exactly blame him though, if I was sure that someone in front of me was the child of a monster that tortured me for months, I’d want them dead too. “Oh god, does everyone here want me dead then? I mean, I understand Sam and Dean not immediately believing me, but Ketch and Mick surely don’t”. I vaguely hear some footsteps walking towards me.

I realize it’s Mick as he crouches down and gently takes my hands in his. “It’s alright, ” he says, “look at me when I say this, okay?” I take a shaky breath and look at Mick, seeing years of trust and friendship in his face.

“The reason why we keep asking you is because when you were unconscious, whatever you were seeing or dreaming about, it had to do with Asmodeus…” I feel my chest tighten, I had thought it was just some twisted nightmare or my brain reacting oddly with the information I heard before I passed out. I don’t even know how to respond.

“Anything you wanna say that would clear this up?” Dean asks. Though it sounds more like a command than a question really, not that it matters anymore, at this point I’m at these people’s mercy.

“I’m one hundred percent sure, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I don’t even bother meeting anyone’s eyes out of both guilt and exhaustion, I should just go home at this point. “There isn’t a way for me to prove it, but I seriously am lost on what you guys are talking about at this point. So unless you want to tell me what happened, I’m feeling pretty shitty so it’d be great if I could just go home and rest, that okay with you?” It’s silent for a moment, and I look up to see Sam and Dean locked in a stare.

Sam slowly nods and so do Dean and Castiel. I shakily stand, and Ketch offers to help me to my car. I roll my eyes, “Gotta still keep an eye on me huh?”

“You did faint, twice so yeah I’ll stick with watching out for you.” I nod and give a weak goodbye to everyone and grab my jacket, keys safely inside and walk out the door, Ketch following close behind.

“You know I believe you right, y/n?” Ketch says, offering his arm for me to hold onto. I truly don’t deserve him or Mick, especially risking their reputations for helping me out. I hope that whatever I saw has a logical explanation for once. I hold onto his arm, his other hand coming up to gently hold mine, a reassuring gesture that calms my nerves.

“I’m glad you do, it means the world to me,” He hums in thought, “Just wish everyone else would I guess.” The rest of the walk to my truck is quiet, an odd occurrence with Ketch but welcome nonetheless.

“Thank you, Ketch, for believing me and everything,” I say as I climb into the driver’s seat. He only smiles and tells me to be safe but my mind is already somewhere else, as I watch him walk back towards the motel room, I think of options on how to handle this situation. I just lied to four strong hunters, an angel, and an archangel.

And if I came clean now I think it would only make things worse, maybe an old friend can help this whole thing get better and not worse.

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

The light ring of her doorbell draws me out of my thoughts, I certainly hope she’s home, the only other person I could go hideout with is - “No, I’m not hiding,” I need information before jumping to dangerous conclusions “I’m searching for other possibilities.” The only other people I could ask about this are Mick and Ketch, and I doubt that would go over well.

The front door clicks open, and Rowena immediately envelopes me in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in far too long, y/n! How have you been?” I smile and hug her tightly, thank god she’s home.

“I’ve been good! You’re right it has been too long. Um, could I come in for a second?” Her smile falters for barely a moment, confusion clear on her features.

“Of course, dear. Are you alright?” I swiftly walk inside her apartment and turn to face her.

“Can you promise me that whatever happens, you won’t tell Sam or Dean anything?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, did they do something I should know about?” Rowena asks, raising her chin with an air of confidence and protectiveness.

I merely hold my head in my hands, my elbows resting on my stomach, and pause a moment, wondering how to break the news. “Do you remember doing a spell for the Winchesters a while ago? One that had to do with Asmodeus?”

“Yes I do, took me a few tries to get it just right but it got them a location for the demon. I heard you were helping them in this case, is that why you’re here?”

“Well yes and no. I was helping them on this case, but they didn’t ask me to come visit you,” I turn around and walk further into her home, taking a seat on one of her armchairs. “I had a weird vision and I don’t know what it means but long story short, the Winchesters, Castiel, Gabriel, and possibly Mick all think I’m the nephidemon they’re after.”

I look up at Rowena, hoping for her to keep this secret. We’ve helped each other out of rough spots before, I’m sure she can do it again.

“Okay, tell me about this vision of yours.” She states without judgment, taking the seat across from me.

Rowena takes her seat across from me again and cautiously says, “I don’t mean to add anything negative to an already distressing situation, but that vision sounds a lot more like an old memory resurfacing.” I nod, I already had a feeling that was the answer but hearing from her makes it so much more real. “I’m assuming you didn’t tell any of the boys about this memory,” I nod again, “And you’re needing a place to lay low for a bit?” A knowing smile gracing her face.

“That would be the best thing right now, Rowena. Thank you.” She smiles and waves her hand in a shooing motion.

“It’s no problem at all, I do love your company.” I laugh and fully relax for the first time since I left the motel today.

“Is it possible for you to do the spell again, but with the map only showing this city to see if I’m the thing Sam and Dean are hunting? Otherwise, it’s probably back in my town and I’d rather be sure.”

Rowena sighs and glances away for a moment, “That spell used a lot of rare ingredients so it would take a little finessing, of course, you’re welcome to stay here while you figure everything out.”

“Thank you so much, Ro, I owe you one.”

“Make it two,” she says, a playful smile evident.

“Deal. I just hope they don’t try to find out where I am right now. I told them I would be staying home until I felt alright to help them with the hunt.”

“I know Samuel knows where I live, but don’t tell them where you are for now, who knows what they’ll do if they think you’re Asmodeus’ child.”

“Yeah, especially Gabriel.”

She hums in agreement, deep in thought again. She looks back over to me and asks, “I’ll probably need some help, finding the ingredients needed for the spell and all that, would you be alright if I gave my son a ring and let him know what’s going on?”

“I’ve only ever heard of him but yes. If you could tell him to not tell anyone else then I’m totally fine with him being in the know for this situation.” Although I don’t personally know her son, Rowena is loyal to a fault and I can only assume he was raised with that quality.

She stands up and claps her hands together, “Excellent, I’ll go call him up right now and we can get this plan in motion.” I watch as Rowena leaves the room and faintly hear her talking on the phone with I assume to be her son. I allow myself to get lost in my thoughts, I haven’t truly had a moment to myself where I could focus on processing everything the boys back at the motel said. Time seems to pass by extremely slow, hours have probably passed but there’s no real way to tell. I’m practically sleeping while sitting up with all the exhaustion catching up to me.