Supernatural Stories and Imagines

Cas 1/ The Spy

Idea: Mine.

Plot: Reader is a mortal who is being blackmailed into working for Crowley and goes to a dance where you meet the angel Castiel, who wants to help you.
Y/h = your height.

You had made a mistake. You wanted to protect your kid sister and ran into someone who promised help. You were desperate and made a deal. Now your ten years are up, but Crowley didn't want you to die yet. He believed you two had grown as chums, so he kept you around. You were thirty by now, but only visited your sister a few times a year. Crowley had kept you away from the Winchester brothers; he didn't want you in the way of the cross-fire. Now you were at a very formal dance, undercover, to find information from the brothers.

"And remember, pet," Crowley said. "Find out the location, any allies, and times. Those are the main priorities. Do whatever it takes."

You nodded and got ready. A slim black dress, heels, and a small purse that held weapons, such as pepper spray and knives. You had never considered fighting Crowley. After all, he was the King of Hell. When you met, he was a crossroads demon in a bar. You knew his power, his strength. You wouldn't defy him. You didn't necessary like all the missions he would send you on, but there wasn't much you could do about it.

Crowley dropped you off at the entrance. You scanned the building before going inside. A butler took your purse and you noticed where he laid it, for future reference. Crowley had given you a brief description of the two brothers: "Moose is the younger one. Long hair. Squirrel is shorter. More rebellious." That was all you had to go off of, besides their names. What would two hunters be doing at a dance anyways? You wondered.

Immediately, you caught about the attention of a dozen men, along with a few ladies. You strolled through, feigning confidence, and waited in the corner and caught a man fumbling with coins in the bar to the right. You immediately went to help him. You bent on a knee and picked up the quarters and nickels. He let out a sigh of relief as you dropped the money into his hands. You stood and studied each other.

"Thank you," the man said with half of a smile. He had messy brown hair and the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. He was in a suit and there was a trench coat draped over the chair he was seated in.

"You're welcome," you said quickly, shaking his hand. The man stared at you with curiosity and you hoped he couldn't tell that you were meant to be dead. He kept hold of your hand a moment too long, but you also didn't pull away immediately either. "My name is Y/N. It is nice to meet you..." You trailed off. He continued staring into your y/e/c eyes.

"I am Agent Robert Stark," he said. His voice appeared naturally low, but not necessarily deep. "I'm here for the case of Martha Jones, a woman who died a few nights ago. Would you happen to know anything about her?"

You shook your head, almost wishing you had lied and said you did, just so you could continue talking to him. You enjoyed his voice, but knew you had to continue on. "I can't say that I have, sorry."

Agent Stark nodded thoughtfully and pulled a business card out of his pocket, where you saw the flash of the FBI card, and handed it to you. "Would you let me know if you hear anything?"

You nodded numbly and mumbled an "of course". You had met with FBI when you were younger in a case when you were working with the government, before your sister got sick. That was definitely not one of those badges. You wandered over to your purse and stuck the card in there, planning on delivering it to Crowley later. The 'detective' was no doubt attractive, but that didn't mean you could trust him. You really loved life. You would always give it up for your sister, but that didn't mean you wanted to die.