I Can See Dead People Castiel X Reader

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Requested by -RebelWithACause- thank you! And don't tell me "but wouldn't the ghosts kill the reader?!" Or "that doesn't really follow the supernatural ghosts guidelines :\" I KNOW. I GOT IT. I UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT. (HADES FROM HERCULES) THIS IS WHAT THE AWESOME PERSON REQUESTED AND I WILL WRITE IT FOR THEM.

Ever since you could remember, you could see ghosts. Some of them were scary, giving you menacing glares, just looking and acting all around, well, ghostly. Some were just there, didn't do much, just wander around aimlessly. Others were curious and actually walked up to you and began talking to you. So you had a few dead friends, average life right?

You had grown up in a hunter family, all your members dead, no surprise. But you never told your parents about your "ability". You were afraid they would kill, well make them deader, the ghosts. Or they might try some weird ritual involving drinking a spider juice. Yeah, you didn't think so.

So before your parents had died, your father was one of the hunters that helped John Winchester with tracking Azazel, so you had met his sons a few times, as well as the pretty blue eyed angel Castiel. So when you entire family died, excluding you, you had turned to the Winchester brothers. They had accepted you into their family, calling you their little sister.

You had been caught talking to a ghost with no one around and had no excuse to try and cover up your ability. So you told the Winchesters, begging them to not try and cure you. They agreed, only if you kept them updated on the ghostly world.

"Bro," You called out to Dean. "Is it just me, or is Cas staying at the bunker a lot more often than usual?"

"He needs a home. And I think he has the hots for you, sis." Dean winked.

"Well you two are always eye fucking and invade each other's space." You muttered while rolling your eyes.

"What?" Dean asked raising his eyebrows.

"Subtext, Dean" You looked him dead in the eyes and walked away.

You walked into the meeting room in the bunker, where more often than not, the moose would be sitting and tapping away at his laptop.

"Hey Sam." You sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rested your elbows on the table, face in your hands.

"Oh hey (Y/N), how is your little, uhhh, ghost problem?" Sam asked.

"Annoying as fuck! They won't leave me alone, I can't sleep or poop without them trying to give me wet willies or terrorize me!" You yelled, exasperated.

"TMI, much (Y/N)?" Sam said, giving you a look of uncertainty.

"You are my brother, no such thing as TMI in a family." You pointed out.

"Okay, whatever. You know we can get Cas and go on a massive ghost extermination." Sam said.

"I'm debating on whether or not to do that, honestly. I'm mean I can see... " you liked around the meeting room, pointing at seemingly random spots in the room. "Seven ghosts right now! There are usually like 20!" You threw your hands up.

"Like I said, massive ghost extermination."

"Yeah yeah... Oh ew! BETSY WHAT THE HELL! DON'T BE LICKING MY BROTHERS YOU 70 YEAR OLD FRONT DESK LADY!" You yelled and pointed behind Sam.

"Come again, did you say lick?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, Betsy, she used to be the front desk lady for the Men of Letters. But ever since she died, she has BeCOme thE MoST PERVERTED LITTLE FUCK IN THIS PLACE!" You shouted. The ghost just laughed and walked out of the room.

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