BY

Halloween at Bobby Singer’s house was supposed to be simple. Cheap vodka. Shitty horror movies. Takeout. Bad decisions. You know. Normal shit. Instead, Y/N gets drunk and decides an ancient demon-summoning ritual sounds like a fucking fantastic idea. Spoiler alert: It does not. One minute she’s sitting beside a chalk circle, massacring ancient Latin with the confidence of somebody who has never once experienced consequences. The next? Every candle goes out. The floor shakes. And a six-foot-four, seven-hundred-year-old demon named Lucien Vale appears in the middle of Bobby’s living room looking like Hell itself got tired of being ugly and decided to make a fucking supermodel. He’s pissed. He’s confused. He’s gorgeous. And he has absolutely no idea he’s trapped. Because Y/N already put a demon trap on the ceiling. A demon trap powerful enough to hold Lucifer. Because unlike the drunk idiots around her, Y/N is actually a hunter. A very fucking dangerous one. Unfortunately, Lucien doesn’t know that. He thinks Y/N is a completely ordinary human who is laughing hysterically because she’s terrified. Meanwhile, outside the door, Sam, Dean, and Castiel know exactly what happened. And instead of helping? They’re laughing their asses off. Then Dean walks into the room pretending to be a priest. “Bless you, my child.” Sam nearly fucking dies trying not to laugh. Castiel just stands there looking like the only person who actually belongs in a church. Lucien has no clue Dean and Sam are faking. He has no clue Castiel is an angel. He has no clue Y/N can see the history, nature, intentions, weaknesses, and destruction method of anything supernatural she touches. And he definitely has no clue that the drunk girl sitting beside his summoning circle is the most dangerous person in the fucking room. Then Lucien asks her name. Y/N wipes tears from her eyes. “Sarah.” Dean silently fucking loses it. Sam is wheezing. Good luck hell.