Title: Kevin Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Part Three)

(Part One) (Part Two)

Author: constipatedsam

Word Count: 1272

Original Imagine/Request/Summary: Can I request a Kevin one shot where he started hallucinating that Crowley was hurting the reader or everything she did somehow killed her so he starts following her around everywhere while working on the tablet and the reader doesn’t mind since he used to ignore her but gets concerned when he freaks out about everything little thing she does.

Trigger Warnings: None, I don’t think. 
A/N: This part is a little shorter because the next part, probably the final one, will be a little lengthy. 

Fic:

    While in this atrocious excuse of a world, everyone approaches a question along the winding, treacherous road that is hell bound, confutes the strongest of warmongers that dare to walk it’s path and make their own choices, and often makes us want to leave it even though it belongs to us: life. Given the past couple of months with my own road, I have come to the conclusion that we in fact do not own life, if anything it owns us. You make yourself a strategic plan to dodge every hurdle, avoid every obstacle, and kill anyone who tries to stop you from controlling where your sorry soul ends up in the end, but life laughs in your face as it pummels you with heart break, death, and the worst of all, Keeping Up With The Karadashian’s. The truth of the matter is that you can’t escape life because it is what you must travel because if you don’t obey it’s laws, you end up like a couple of hunters I know. Many people don’t know them, and I doubt you know them either since they’re killer nomads, literally. They didn’t follow the plan that was laid out for them, a brick walkway that they strayed from and chose to stride down a lane called Hell and Purgatory because they simply didn’t stay within their destined path. I knew contrary to these men, though. I had always thought that my path was to excel through college, settle down with a pleasant wife who knew how to cook to perfection, and brag to my future colleagues about my advanced placement, but ostensibly that wasn’t my highway to an easy, happy life. My mind back then would never think that I would be sitting in a houseboat in the middle of Warsaw, Missouri with a girl who has the blood of many creatures and beings that she had slaughtered soaking her precious, soft hands, but here we are. So there I sat in this houseboat, sipping on a bottle of beer while observing the water outside of the small circular window that seemed more as a portal to the world that I had been mostly isolated from since my head is wanted by every demon from Hell to Russia. Y/N let me tag along places every now and then as I were a dog that needed an occasional walk, but it was time outside and well, with her so I let it slide. I didn’t even get distracted by the orgasmic feeling of the sun hitting my skin after days of being retained in this floating hell hole, the wind tussling my black hair, or the interaction with other people. I was entranced by the way Y/N’s skin would glow under the gaseous flame’s rays which made her seem like an angelic being. The wind dancing around in her hair, tangoing with every loose, Y/H/C strand as it waltzed around in the air was enticingly hypnotic. I never held talk with strangers, yet would find any excuse to exchange any thought with her. I was no longer distracted by the world itself, but more the impact it had on my body guard. She had become my world, my Venus, my stars while I was more than probably just a measly ant at some field in her planet. 

       My Earth was sat at the table as she was examining my tablet, or Metatron’s, ever so carefully with her eyes that were more unique and striking than each galaxy that hung above our heads. Her hair was like constellations that God had plucked personally from heaven and placed it upon her head, giving her beauty that no one in the world could compare. Her skin were a million shooting stars that had congregated into making skin that glowed so magnificently no matter the lighting. My heavy legs, from having a vision of dying this week or rather just being in her presence, strode their way over to the observant goddess, her eyes flashing towards me as she plunked the excruciatingly burdensome rock down onto the table, heaving out a sigh. “I don’t see how you read that thing. I don’t even understand what it says and it still gives me a headache,”
      My body collided with the rickety, wooden chair that was on the edge of collapsing from age next to her, hitting my elbow harshly on the edge of the table which she noticed and I’m not going to lie. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I wasn’t going to let her think that the almighty, confident Kevin Tran could be taken down with a singular blow to the arm. I mean, I could if I ran into a table and hit it on my hip, but my arm? No way! I covered the tablet with my hands as I held it up in front of both of our faces to see. Her gaze was focused on the stone, but mine was locked like the gates of hell themselves upon her face, soaking in every corner and edge that made up her exquisite build. Every time I looked at her, I just kept seeing the images of Crowley over her replay in my head like a broken cassette tape, and my mouth was mimicking the gates, locking in my inner demons. I plastered a fake smile onto my lips as I switched my gaze to the stone. “You see this right here?” I spoke aloud, letting my finger guide underneath the seemingly senseless scribbles that were engraved upon the rock. Her eyes followed it, absorbing my teachings. “This translates to: ‘Please put me back in the hands of the pretty girl. You hold me enough as is,” Her plain mouth transformed into a glimmering smile right before my eyes, shining brighter than the stars that she consisted of. Butterflies feverishly fluttered their brilliant wings within my chest and stomach at the sight like they typically did, but I felt ever more of the marvelous beings hatching within me because I had caused the reaction. I rested the tablet back onto the ancient table as her hand abruptly landed on top of mine which caused every goose bump that was cautiously hiding underneath my skin to rise to it’s highest point. Her eyes fixated upon mine as she rose from her worn down throne and led me towards the big steel door that led to the outside world. Not her, but the real world.
      “What are you doing? I thought Garth said I couldn’t leave here again until next month?” My interrogative words had no impact upon her continuing actions as she tossed my coat towards me which I caught in my free hand. She turned back to where I could see her face which was still portraying that million dollar smile that I had brought to life. Her hand flung the door open, releasing the brisk sea air into the boat.
      “He didn’t specify if he meant the boat, the state, the country…” Y/N’s voice trailed off delicately as she pulled my feet from the floor and she forced me outside, already sending a burst of adrenaline in my veins, my heart, my brain. She was drugging me with her wholesome touch, her pure essence. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew that if I was going to be with her, I wasn’t going to stray away from the path that I was taking. I wasn’t one to follow life’s trail much anymore, but since she was my life, I was willing to obey.

constipatedsam:

Title: Kevin Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Part Two)

Part One

Author: huntinghellhound

Word Count: 2733

Original Imagine/Request/Summary: Can I request a Kevin one shot where he started hallucinating that Crowley was hurting the reader or everything she did somehow killed her so he…

Title: Kevin Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (Part One)

Author: huntinghellhound
Word Count: 1360

Original Imagine/Request/Summary: Can I request a Kevin one shot where he started hallucinating that Crowley was hurting the reader or everything she did somehow killed her so he starts following her around everywhere while working on the tablet and the reader doesn’t mind since he used to ignore her but gets concerned when he freaks out about everything little thing she does.
Trigger Warnings: Blood, Death

A/N: I’m breaking this request up into parts because I fell in love with the plot for this, honestly. I want to be able to give this request my absolute best since I think it has so much potential to be written well. Thank you so much for requesting it!

Fic:

      Her blood was a horrifying sight for me to see, for her to feel, but it was odd how her blood looked so attractive as it was contrasting on her pale skin. It was seeping from a lone wound that was hanging so lazily across her neck, the skin not even yearning to reconnect as more of the red liquid poured out. Her face was a painting of no emotion, no reaction from her own insides crawling around the outside of her skin. It was the blank stare in her eyes that shook me most to my core. The way she seemed calm almost, expectant of her departure from this world and into the next at the fault of her murderer’s bloody hands. He stood over her as if he were the lion and she were a wounded gazelle that was such an easy prey for the skilled beast to obtain. There was a tainted and haunted knife that clung in his red heads, but not from blood. They were more red from the amount of sin and destruction they had caused and molded over it’s dreadful lifetime than the hideous murder it had just committed. He was a demon, mentally and emotionally. I couldn’t visually see the figure of this abomination since he was committing his dirty deeds through someone’s poor vessel, being forced to see all of his heinous acts as their soul was encased with his. The abomination was known by the name Crowley, but he was known as something else to me. He was the thing that went bump in the night. He was the creature that had tempted me into hiding my body underneath a blanket at night as to not be snatched by a monster. He was once the only thing in my life that I feared until I had met Y/N. Then, my main fear became the thought and possible reality that was made plausible from my own life that she could fall to his hands just as easy as the next person.

      When I had awoken, there she sat, her hand propping up her fatigued head that had been reading the dated book for hours on end. Her Y/H/C was draping over her shoulder romantically as her body was slouching from sitting in the same position for too long. Within her skull sat her mind that was obnoxiously unaware of what I had just witnessed within my own head. The images of her lying on the ground slaughtered felt like movie credits in my head that wouldn’t end, but just kept rewinding and playing the lengthy tape over and over. She was so naïve, unknowing of the horrors of herself that I had to see, live through even. Don’t get me mistaken, the girl had grown on me since she had roomed in the bunker with myself. I was able to look past her morning breath, cranky moods, and crying every time the Harry Potter Weekend event on ABC Family ended and saw a beautiful person beneath all of that. That was something else that she wasn’t cognizant of within her childish head. She assumed that I hated her or ignored her on purpose, but that wasn’t the whole story. If anything, it was just the epilogue. I had fallen for her. I guess saying that the girl had grown on me was an understatement. She flourished on me and I accepted every leaf that grew upon her limbs and every blemish and bark that was peeling off of her trunk. I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone who I barely knew anything about, but she was like that variable that proved to me so many things I thought were impossible can happen. She proved to me that with only a glare you can strike someone’s underused heart with emotion that they hadn’t felt in ages, and also that a human female can hold eight slices of pizza if hormonal enough. I didn’t even notice her soft, Y/E/C eyes drifted over to me as curiosity and wonder danced around in her eyes.
      “Kevin? Are you okay?” She pondered with her words entrancing me with every syllable. I jerked my body off of the table and quickly looked away from her as if she were a poison that would kill any of my confidence to speak. I tried to quickly recover from my awkward glare and reaction so I could at least pursue a conversation with the huntress who sat just a few inches away from my nervous body. Nothing came to mind as my childishness and inability to speak to attractive women took control of the ride.
      Oh, yeah, I’m okay. I was just trying to figure up how many tissue boxes I would have to buy for the next Harry Potter marathon,” I coldly sputtered from my mouth as her eyes tore holes through mine with aggravation. Her body that often was a distraction and masterpiece to look at for my eyes was now a sign of defeat. It was proving to me the death of a conversation and any chance of any amount of friendship sprouting and growing between us. Sure, I was seeking some sort of mutual bond between the two of us for personal reasons, but there was also a greater reason at hand. These dreams that had been conjuring up within my dreams had affected me. The vision of her chest rising for the very last time, that singular breath leaving her lungs as it drifts off in the atmosphere as carbon dioxide, not even aware that it had been touched like by someone who was now deceased was haunting me not even at night, but starting to in the day. I knew that saying ‘Hey, Y/N! Nice weather we’re having, huh? Now, about those dreams I’ve been having about your untimely death…’ wasn’t going to end well unless I wanted a sobbing mess or a slap in the face. I was a little torn on what to do until the solution hit me like that water bottle that had attacked Justin Bieber’s face so many years ago. “Hey, Y/N. That was meant to be a joke, but I see it obviously wasn’t taken that way.”

      Her body stopped in it’s tracks. She had dressed herself in her black jacket that was normally clad on her body with her purse around her arm and her car keys clutched tightly in her hand as if she were walking through a parking garage at night. My breath escaped me a little when I saw the jacket over her shoulders, well, for one it made her eyes pop like fireworks on the fourth of July, and secondly that meant that she was more than definitely leaving my sight, and I couldn’t have that. At least not as long as I was having vivid visions of Crowley crouching over her body with that same blood-hungry look that was constantly lit up in his eyes. “Do you think I could go with you? Wherever you’re going? It gets a little stuffy in here sometimes and I still don’t have very good sea legs,” I lied as sin was wrapped around every word that left my lips. She gave me an odd look that was filled with confusion that she had been sporting a few moments ago and still for the same reason.
      She let out a thoughtful sigh as she tried to hide a small smile that was cracking through her normally stern lips. “I’m going to the store to pick up a few things if your feel that you need to join,” She slyly spoke as she began to walk past me and towards the door. Was I mistaken or was there a hint of happiness that I had asked to tag along? Her smile that had tried so desperately to make itself known had caused my heart to flutter, but I ignored my organ’s nervousness as I strapped on my jacket and walked outside to join my partner in shopping and the life that could possibly be in my hands.

Title: Drinking and Discussing

Author: huntinghellhound

Word Count: 350

Original Imagine/Request/Summary: Os where Kevin or Dean and reader argue over trivial things ex: was Halle Berry a Bond girl? - anon

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol
A/N:  Sorry it’s so short!

Fic:

                “No, no, no. We all know that Batman would choose to sleep with Alfred if made to choose,” Kevin argued, his voice ringing out in the stuffy air of the houseboat. The steel walls were almost as depressing as the mounting of old candy wrappers and to go boxes that stood menacingly in the corner after being spawned from the prophet’s many weeks of being locked in this place. The florescent light above you two would flicker every now and then, but it would always shine once again. The man was sitting with his back against the cold wall and his legs propped up while he held a trusty bottle of beer in his fists. His eyes gave off the obvious look of fatigue since he had been trying to decode the tablet for so long, so you thought a little break would be alright. He passed the half empty bottle to you and you took a hungry swig from the liquid goodness. “I mean, he’s known the man all of his life, so don’t you think he’d want it to be special? If you had to choose to sleep with me, a person you’ve known for three months top, or Dean, a man you’ve known for three years, who would you choose?”

                “You, obviously,” You admitted sassily. “Since I’m less likely to ever see you again because we haven’t known each other for too long, I’d rather risk it with you,” You smiled behind the lip of the bottle as Kevin returned the same flirty grin your way. His eyes crinkled as he studied your face for a few moments and then continued.

                “I’d choose you, too. Not because the amount of time I’ve known you, though,” He chuckled as he took his foot and playfully kicked your calf since you were sitting directly across from him. You handed him back the bottle as he downed the remedy, tilting his head up. You may have only known him for three months, but you could tell that you wanted to know him for a lot longer, as friends or more.