#(but listen I love them and their roadhouse)

[qapsiel]

@bloodsalted ;; loud & deafening silence (still accepting) hospital . Castiel  is  told  Dean is  in  the  hospital

                              CASTIEL, EILEEN, AND LITTLE DJ ARE AT A LOCAL PLAYGROUND when Castiel's phone vibrates in the back pocket of his jeans. He brushes the sand off his hands and dutifully hands the little shovel back over to DJ, who promptly destroys Castiel's sandcastle with it, and pulls out his phone. "Sam," he greets the younger Winchester brother after seeing the caller ID. "Is he aggravating you, too?"

                               The roadhouse is slowly but surely turning into something they both like; it takes a lot of work and is physically exhausting, but Castiel doesn't mind. Unfortunately, the stress of tiling and painting and sanding off the floors also means that sometimes, they fight over the most mundane things. Yesterday had been especially bad — so bad, in fact, that Miracle had needed to sleep between Dean and Castiel because both had been still raging with anger. 

                              Naturally, neither of them was particularly eager to start with the next house project this morning, so they decided to split up for the day — Dean asked his brother for help while Castiel joined Eileen and DJ at the playground. It had been the right decision because Castiel wasn't really mad anymore (it had been a stupid fight), but the little jab was necessary either way.

                               "Uuuhhh," Sam makes on the other end of the line. "So, listen, he was kind of an idiot, and we're in the hospital." 

                               "What?" It's loud enough that DJ immediately starts crying. Eileen, who had been chatting with another deaf mother, comes over when she sees what's going on, shooting Castiel questioning looks. "What happened; is he alright?"

                               "Yeah, he's just been dumb and not careful enough, and now he's got a broken arm. Don't worry, he'll be fine, Cas. He's in surgery to get a fancy metal pin. I'll stay here until you get here. Can you grab him some clothes? I think he has to stay at least for one night."

Castiel gets to his feet immediately, stepping on his half-destroyed sandcastle and smashing it completely. DJ wails even louder, maybe because he had wanted to go berserk on the castle. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can." Not for the first time, he misses his wings. He could have flown to the hospital instantly. Instead, he has to rush to the car (after quickly explaining to Eileen what happened) and drive home to the roadhouse, where he finds a toppled ladder, a spilled bucket of paint, and scattered tools. Upstairs, Miracle tries to ask for pets, but Castiel pushes the dog aside and grabs some random articles of clothing and Dean's toothbrush before hurrying out again.

                               On the way to the hospital, he ends up stuck in traffic. Because of course. Growing more and more frustrated, Castiel imagines what else could have happened. Dean could have easily broken his neck instead of his arm. And then? Then the last time they'd have seen each other, they'd have said something semi-mean and snarky.

                               Luckily, he finds a parking spot close to the hospital entrance. Rushing inside, he finds a stressed nurse to show him the correct direction, and then it's easy to spot Sam towering above everyone in the hallway of the fifth floor. "He just got out of surgery," Sam says in lieu of a greeting. "The doctor said he's fine. Just needs to sleep off the anesthesia and have a cast for a couple of weeks."

                               "Thank God," Castiel mutters, itching to get into the room. "Can you–?" 

"Yes, I'll get Miracle and watch him today. Don't worry. Shoot me a message when he wakes up?"

                               Castiel nods, then gives up pretending that he wants to keep talking to Sam, and instead enters the room. There are two empty beds near the door; Dean is in one close to the window. Castiel drags a chair over and sits down, gingerly grabbing the hand of Dean's uninjured arm. The other is tightly wrapped, though not yet in a cast. Formerly, a simple touch would have been enough to mend broken bones. Now? He's helpless and useless, and he hates that feeling. "Dean," Castiel mutters when the hunter starts to twitch his nose and turn his head. "Can you hear me?"

[hysteria-things]

can you do a smut with dom!nate x sturniolo triplets sister where they're at a restaurant with the triplets and nate starts fingering her idc abt anything else but like please im begging you 🙏🙏

FORGIVE ME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being friends with benefits with your triplet brothers’ best friend isn’t the smartest idea. especially when nate teases you at a restaurant with your siblings there, there’s only one way to forgive him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, mentions underage drinking, fingering, public, oral (female/male receiving), p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,277

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first sturniolo’s little sister fic😯 i find this trope fun LOL

i miss why don’t we they were MY one direction.

hope you like it anon!

a burger sounds so good right now. you think to yourself before being rudely interrupted when a foot taps your shin from under the table. your annoyed eyes are met with chris’. “what are you getting?” he asks.

you shrug, continuing to scan the menu in front of you. “probably a bacon cheeseburger.”

your triplet brothers invited you out to dinner at the finest establishment around: texas roadhouse.

they picked up nathan along the way, who’s sitting silently next to you as the other three are squished in the booth across from you. the four of you are close and know everything about each other, which is the best kind of sibling relationship.

well, they think they know everything about you.

what they don’t — and will never know — is your friends with benefits with nate.

it started randomly at a high school party, where the two of you got drunk and made out which led to you guys fucking in the bathroom. it’s bizarre but true.

turns out, the two of you enjoyed it and this whole thing went on from there. that was months ago, by the way.

while taking a sip of your shirley temple, a hand is placed on your thigh. you look over to the culprit, who is talking casually to your siblings.

his hand teasingly moves up and down, each time getting closer to your waistband. your breath hitches as the waitress comes over. “are you guys ready?” she asks in her customer service voice, smiling as she clicks her pen.

“you go first, y/n.” nate says innocently, taking his fingers and now putting them in your pants to rub hard on your clit. he knows you love getting penetration there.

little shithead.

you clear your throat. “c-can i have a bacon cheeseburger, please?”

the waitress nods, writing on her notepad. “with what side?”

you feel two fingers going inside your wetness, moving at a medium pace. “mmm— fries!” you say loud and quickly. you clear your throat again. “please.”

the three across from you give the same weird look, as if silently saying ‘what the fuck is the matter with you?’

soon, the others put their orders in and go into their conversations. nate keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, a low whimper leaving your mouth.

when he knows your brothers aren’t listening because they’re arguing about whatever the fuck, he scoots closer to you and leans to your ear. “you’re so wet, baby. is it all for me?”

you grip his wrists, trying to pull him away when you feel your orgasm approaching. it’ll be embarrassing to cum in your pants. “nate—”

“you’re coming back to our house, right?” nick asks, causing nate to pull out his fingers and readjust in his seat.

“yup,” he replies, giving your thigh a tight squeeze.

you storm into your bedroom, nate following closely behind. you shut the door and lock it, putting your hands on your hips and tapping your foot like an angry parent. “are you trying to get us caught? what were you thinking?!”

he chuckles. “cut me some slack, will ya?”

he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to where your chests touch. you try your best to give him your best mad face, but to him, you look adorable. “i’m sorry.” he fake pouts.

he tugs at your shirt and slowly lifts it over your head, throwing it somewhere on the ground. his lips are mere centimeters from yours. “forgive me?”

“we don’t have time. they’ll get suspicious,” you whisper.

he shakes his head, now taking off his shirt. “they think the texas roadhouse got to the best of me. i’ll be in the bathroom for a while.” he winks, pecking your lips.

you bite your lip, not losing eye contact when you start to unbuckle his jeans. “i don’t think i forgive you.” you say sweetly, getting on your knees and simultaneously pulling his pants down.

“guess i’ll have to see.” you continue, eyeballing his hard-on through his boxer. you start to rub your hand over the fabric, a groan leaving nate’s mouth.

you give the tip a little kiss before pulling down his underwear, his dick aching for attention. you wrap your mouth around him, going as much as you can down his base.

moistening his lips, he throws his head back. he always loved the feeling of your warm mouth around him.

you start to bob your head, the gulping noises intensifying the faster you go. “shit.” nate exhales, taking his finger and lifting your chin so you can look at him.

he starts to thrust his hips to match your bobs, gagging in the process.

he pulls out of your mouth and in the blink of an eye, he flips you so you lay on your back. despite your bed being quite literally a foot away from you guys, he’s now on the ground with you between your legs. “forgive me yet?”

“n—” you don’t finish the word when he starts to dig into you without warning. even better, he takes his thumb and plays with your clit like how he did at the restaurant.

you moan too loudly, covering your mouth with your palm. the last thing you want is for your brothers to hear you. your other hand travels to nate’s head, grasping onto his hair tightly. “i’m close.” you mumble, making him pull away.

“what the hell?” you sigh annoyingly.

“shush.” he says, flipping you over once again to where you are now straddling his lap. “ride me.”

you smirk, kissing on his neck down to his chest. he grows impatient, lifting your hips and playing yourself on his cock. you whine, leaning back up straight and grinding your hips to feel him rub the right way on your walls.

“fuck.” you whimper. he grabs your hips and starts to bounce you, a squeal coming out of you. “nathan, fuck!”

“best be quiet, baby.” he smirks. “don’t want them to hear their little sister on their best friend’s dick.”

you whine lowly, biting your lip to quiet your moans. he sits up and you grab both sides of his neck, looking deep into each other’s eyes. he’s smiling smugly, but your face is contorting with pleasure.

he groans when he twitches inside of you.

“did nate fall asleep on the toilet?” matt’s voice echoes down the hallway, three pairs of footsteps along with it.

“the ribs probably gave him food poisoning or some shit.” chris replies.

nate moves you faster on him, panting lowly in the process. there’s no way he can stop now. he’s way too close.

the doorknob shakes, startling the both of you, but you guys keep going. “what the fuck? why is your door locked?” nick asks.

“fuck y/n, i’m cum—” you swallow his words by giving him an opened-mouthed kiss. you moan softly into his mouth, making sure you cum first before lifting yourself off of him.

he groans into your mouth when his cum makes a mess on his abs. “hello? earth to y/n?”

you pull away, staying in position to quietly catch your breath. “s-sorry, what?” you stammer.

“why is your door locked?” this time, the question is asked by matt.

“changing,” you answer, nate giggling silently.

there’s an awkward silence for a few beats before it's broken. “okay…” nick says in a hesitant manner, and their footsteps eventually recede.

“holy shit.” nate throws his head back to laugh, and you smack him on the chest.

“be quiet,” you mumble, getting off from the floor.

thank god you locked the door, or things could’ve ended terribly.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld

[winchester-24]

I am SO gonna need a part two to Sam choosing between reader and ruby. I loved it and I’m CRAVING angst. I can only imagine how you’d continue the story I KNOW it would be good

I'm so glad you loved it! The response to this specific fic has been mind-blowing to me as someone who just started posting, and I am super humbled by it! Thank you for your support <3

Imagine Sam having to choose between you and Ruby (Part 2)

Cold. If any hunter was asked about you, that is how they would describe you. When Bobby came and picked you up that day, he let you sit the entire ride home in silence. When you two reached his house, he popped a beer for you. When you went to take it, he held it back and demanded,

“Sit.” You sighed and sat at his kitchen table, drank the beer he offered, and told him everything. He comforted you Bobby-style, meaning he told you it would be alright and the two of you would figure it out. You finished your beer, thanked him, and asked if there was any car he didn’t care to part with. While he had none running, he permitted you to fix any of them.

It took you a month to fix up a car. Everything you knew about cars you learned between Dean and Bobby. It was nothing fancy, but it would get the job done. Every morning, Bobby would make you eat breakfast, and every night, when you came in, Bobby would make you eat dinner. You would then shower, sleep, and repeat. It was like you were a zombie. When the car was completely ready, you packed your things, left Bobby a note thanking him and saying that you would call, and left.

During your month there, your phone would begin to ring non-stop. Calling, text message, voicemail. Sam was using any way you could communicate on the phone. In the beginning, you would listen to the voicemails.

“Hey, baby, it's me—again. Please pick it up and at least let me know you are safe. We can talk about this. I love you.”

“I know you’re mad- you have every right to be. I was selfish and stupid, thinking about what was best for us without consulting you. It was dumb, and I took full responsibility. Please call me. I miss you so much; I love you.”

Every voicemail sounded like that, but the contact became less frequent. Instead of all day, it was in the morning and at night. Then it turned into just at night. Then it turned into every other day until it became once or twice a week until the last week you were at Bobby’s, Sam didn’t try to contact you once. Good.

You went from town to town, trying every crossroads demon. Trying to get information, make a deal. Anything. Every demon denied you a deal, and no one would tell you anything. You were getting frustrated. In between finding demons, you would pick up solo jobs. The roadhouse became your home away from home, wherever your home was supposed to be. Some nights, you would end up like Ash, asleep on top of a pool table or bar; other nights, Ellen would give you the spare back bedroom.

Hunters would come in and try to flirt with you. You would be cordial and say no; however, every hunter was the same- stubborn, and thinking no would eventually turn yes. After the fifth hunter came through and tried to put hands on you, you grabbed his hand, twisting it like Sam taught you, and caused the wrist to snap.

That was the last time a hunter hit on you at the roadhouse.

Every so often, Sam Winchester’s name was brought up around you. Hunters loved to talk, and now you know how every hunter seemed to know you three when traveling, but you never knew them. Each time you heard Sam’s name, your heart became colder, and another shot was poured into your body.

Three more months had passed, and you were no closer to figuring out how to get Dean out of hell. A few times, you thought about calling Sam to see if he was close to saving Dean but decided against it. When your phone rang, you were in a hotel room, just finished clearing out a vamp’s nest. Bobby.

“Bobby.” You say that was your greeting now to anyone; you have no spark of joy left in you.

“I need you to come home.” That was all Bobby said. You sighed and flung your boot off, working on the other one.

“I mean, I can; it will be tomorrow, though; I just finished a hunt; is it that important?”

“It needs to be now,” Bobby said. I stood up.

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“You’re going to want to see for yourself, get your ass over here and stop arguing with me.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll be there in a few hours.” You say before you hang up. You look down at all the blood on you and then make eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

“But first, I’m going to shower.” You mutter to yourself.

Freshly showered, you were at Bobby’s five hours later. You turn the ignition off and step out of the car. The afternoon light was setting in, and you started to get nervous. Nothing seemed out of place, so what was the big deal? You opened the door and called for Bobby.

“Bobby, it’s me; what’s so important,”  You stopped as you looked in the living room. Bobby stood there, along with- Dean. You gasped. Dean smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He spoke. He went to walk towards you.

“Don’t move a muscle.” You say, grabbing your silver knife and keeping it under your shirt and pants.

“Y/N, I already did the checks, it’s him.” Your eyes looked over at Bobby and narrowed again.

“How do I know you’re Bobby?” Dean smiled.

“You’re good here; test me.” Dean held out his arm, and you did all the testing. When he didn’t react, you looked into his eyes, and tears started to form.

“You’re back.” You whispered.

“I’m back,” he said. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. After a few minutes, he broke the hug and rubbed your arms.

“Bobby told me about Sam.” Hearing his name iced your heart over once more. You looked away from Dean.

“He made his choice; I made mine. I haven’t talked to him since I left.” Dean nodded his head.

“I was going to try to find him if you wanted to come.”

“Thanks, Dean, but I’ll pass.”  Dean sighed and nodded while Bobby said he was going and was going to finish getting packed. You hugged Dean again before ensuring he still had your number and left.

A few weeks after that, you saw Sam Winchester for the first time in months. You heard rumors from the roadhouse about everything going on with Demons and hunting in packs and were looking for a girl, but you never went and checked for yourself. You knew the brothers would be there. Instead, you took up your usual gigs, hoping to stay away from the war.

It was a little salt and burn hunt. You were dressed in your FBI outfit, questioning the latest victim’s wife when you heard it. That low rumble you used to ride in. You quickly finished up your goodbyes, gave her your card, and started to walk back to your car when they stepped out. Sam’s eyes were wide, and he stood frozen at the vehicle. Dean was walking around the car. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he kept advancing towards you. Dean wrapped you in a hug, and you returned.

Sam walked up to you and Dean. His eyes stared into yours; his mouth kept opening like he was going to stay something but then would shut it again.

“Are you still seeing her?” It is all that came out of your mouth. The distaste was evident in your voice. Sam looked taken back for a second but then regained his composure.

“No.” That was all he was able to muster up and speak. You looked at Dean for confirmation.

“I haven’t seen her.” That is all he said. That raised suspicion in you. You decided to let it go.

“If you want to help on this case, I can tell you what I have gathered so far; I was about to go get lunch- you guys are buying.” You walk past them and get in your car, not waiting for them to reply. You drove to the diner you saw on the way to the victim's house and noticed the Impala was not too far behind you. You grabbed a booth at the restaurant, and the boys slid to the other side of you. After you three ordered it, you started discussing the case and everything you learned.

“So, what’s your theory?” Sam asked after you gave them everything you learned.

“These men are not correlated to anything except they all went to the same bar. They were all at the bar the night they died. I’m not sure I would have to go back and ask all the victim’s wives, but I think these men were all unfaithful in their marriages. See, Kathleen Voss’ husband was unfaithful and wanted to be with his mistress, who, get this, was a bartender at that bar, so he killed Kathleen and tried to cover it up. Of course, he was caught but died in jail the same way as all the other victims.”

“So, you think these men are sleeping with a bartender?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know if they are unfaithful with a bartender or just in general, but I’m assuming that’s where Kathleen sticks around since that’s where her husband started cheating on her.” The boys nodded their heads in agreement as our food came. You ate, they paid, and then you told them where you were staying. Before Sam could even have a chance to talk to you, you turned around and walked to your car.

Back at the hotel room, you let out tears that had been hiding behind your eyes the entire time you were around Sam. Old wounds opened, and while you gave a brave face, you were crumpling and fast. You headed for the whiskey in your bag and drank it straight from the bottle. The burn hurt on the way down, but you hoped the effects would start soon. You changed out of your FBI gear into lounge clothes to do more research on these men. When you were about to open your laptop, you heard a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun and made your way to open it. Sam.

“Can I come in?” He asked. You didn’t reply; you just opened the door for him. He walked in and stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. You set your gun down and folded your arms across your chest. Sam let out a breath and started talking.

“I know you are still pissed, hurt, sad, everything. I meant what I said. I don’t see her anymore. I haven’t had contact with her in weeks. There are many things I want to tell you that I’m going to tell you; I want to know if I still have a chance.” You looked at him like he was stupid.

“I left MONTHS ago. You only stopped seeing her WEEKS ago? You know that first month I was at Bobby’s? You know I didn’t tell him not to tell you where I was? You could have shown up any time you wanted to, Sam! You didn’t! Sure, you left messages on my phone, but let's be honest- you were still with HER! You still chose HER! Now you want to walk into my hotel room and ask if you have a chance when I haven’t seen you for months, and it’s only been a few weeks away from that demon? Do I look like a fucking convenience store to you? You want me back; you have to earn me back. That starts with no contact with her. That starts with you showing me you want to be with me.”  One tear left your eye while Sam just looked at you. He nodded his head and started to walk out of the room. Before he crossed over, he looked at you and said softly.

“I still love you.” You didn’t reply, and he walked back to his room. You shut the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, letting out all the emotions you had been holding in for months.

A little while later, in your measurement time, about half a bottle later, another knock sounded at your door. You got up and stumbled over to your door, opening and seeing Dean. He looked at your state and softened his eyes but then tensed again.

“We need to talk.” That sobered you. You nodded your head and let him in. Dean walked in and turned to face you.

“Sam lied to you.” That is all he said. Your jaw clenched.

“What do you mean?”

“He is still seeing that demon; I’m pretty sure they are together now.”

Red. That is what you saw. In your lounge clothes and all, you grabbed your gun and knife; Dean already had the demon knife on him that Ruby gave the boys a while ago.

“Where the fuck is he?” You asked. Dean led you to Sam’s room. He stopped in front of it.

“Kick it down, Dean.” You spoke. Dean complied, and both of you rushed into the room—the sight before you ripped your heart out and disgusted you simultaneously. Ruby was on top of Sam, no shirt, just a black lace bra and panties. Sam only had boxers on, and he was drinking her blood. His mouth and cheeks had blood on them, and when you two busted through the door, they broke apart, and it was all over his mouth.

Sam’s eyes were wide that he had just been caught, and Ruby had that stupid ass smug smile on her face that you remember all too well. You felt your face heat us as you locked eyes with the demon bitch.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

[lght-roastcoffee]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Scared ⋆ ˚｡⋆

prompt: "I'm in love with you, and that scares me."┆Tuna-Tober ⊹ Day 8

pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

wordcount: 692

warnings: slight language, mentions of past injuries, angst with a happy ending

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢-𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹

I can’t stop thinking about him.

Him and his bright green eyes. His freckle-dusted cheeks. The leather jacket he always wears. It’s probably so warm. He’s so kind to those he saves. He may not show it often, keeping his emotions behind a well guarded wall, but I see it every time. 

Dean Winchester is a beaten and bruised man with the heart of a hero. I understand why he can’t let anyone in. I understand the past burdens placed on his shoulders and the horrors he’s had to witness. But why does he have to be so mean?

“It’s like every time I turn my back you’re there needing saving.” Dean lifts the glass of whiskey in his hands to his plush lips and takes a sip. “Just for one night, that’s all I asked. But you can’t stay out of danger.”

“Dean, it’s not like I wanted to be attacked.” I huff, crossing my arms, leaning my back against the Roadhouse bar next to him. 

“Well, it sure seems like it sometimes,” he says, taking another swig. 

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “What are you trying to say, Dean?”

“I’m saying I’m tired of always saving your ass when I should be busy ganking the monsters.”

I huff again, pushing myself away from the bar. “Am I that useless to you?”

He sighs, looking down at the glass now resting on the bar and closes his eyes. “I’m just saying you’re getting reckless, Y/N. I’m not always gonna be there to save you when things go sideways.”

“But you don’t want me around.” I face Dean, anger and frustration slowly rising in me. “I’m just another burden to you right?”

Dean lifts his head, looking to the ceiling, before facing me, slight frustration coating his expression. “Stop putting words in my mouth, Y/N. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But that is what you meant,” I say, voice raising slightly in anger. “I get it, Dean, really. You’re tired of saving me. You’re tired of babysitting the child you see me as. If I’m such a burden, maybe I should just leave then.”

I start walking towards the doors of the Roadhouse, but a hand at my wrist stops me in my tracks. Dean spins me back to face him, eyebrows scrunched together and frustration shining in his eyes. “Damn it, Y/N! Just let me talk!”

Thank whoever is listening that it’s empty right now. “No, Dean, I think you’ve said all you’ve been wanting to say.”

He lets go of my wrist and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further than it was. “I… I’m in love with you!” I freeze, his words running through my head as I process them. “And that scares me, okay? I-I don’t want to be the reason you die or see you die. I can’t handle that.”

The frustration slowly leaves my body as it relaxes seeing the man I’ve been crushing on in such a vulnerable state.

“Dean,” I whisper, closing the space between us. I rest a hand on his shoulder, making him look at me. “I love you, too.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him as I wrap mine over his shoulders. He buries his head in my shoulder and just holds me like that. I squeeze him just as hard in return, enjoying the comfort he brings. After a while, he pulls back slightly and cups my face in one of his rough hands. I stare wide eyed into his emerald ones shining in gratitude and love. Tired of waiting any longer, I pull him down and press my lips to his softly. Dean sighs into the kiss, lips moving against my own as he deepens it slightly.

Someone behind me clears their throat, causing us to separate in surprise. We both turn our heads towards the door to see Sam standing there. “Did I miss something?”

I laugh as Dean chuckles into my shoulder, placing a kiss there. Dean pulls away smiling as he looks me in the eyes again. 

“Just walk away, Sammy.”

[intricatedemonicrituals]

Canon Destiel Timeline Masterpost

I wrote this all in a fugue state while listening to Green Grow the Lilacs on repeat so forgive any mistakes. @gay-fae ask and ye shall receive

So much has happened in the long and storied history of his fandom so I've decided to try to document it. I've started by looking up every time that canon destiel, destiel event, misha collins, jackles, or some other search terms have spiked on Google and cross referenced them with tumblr or twitter posts from that day. I know a lot of this is Misha stuff, but he does tend to be the one to say things

November 5th, 2020: Season 15, Episode 18 "Despair" airs and Castiel declares his love to Dean. The presidential election, Georgia turning blue, the presumed retirement of Vladamir Putin, Dabi from My Hero Academia, Ouran Host Club season 2, Sherlock season 5, the president of Bolivia being attacked with dynamite, ongoing BLM protests, a twitter artist making racist art of Ted Bundy, Hetalia returning, a dead man being elected Representative for North Dakota, V for Vendetta, scientists discovering a "hell" planet that rains rocks and has lava oceans, and half of Europe being in lockdown all became tumblr news around the same time. Some of these are true, some not.

November 8th, 2020: Misha Collins, in a panel with Richard Speight, states that the confession scene was a "declaration of homosexual love", and that when Castiel goes to the Empty, it is an example of the "Kill your gays" trope.

November 19th, 2020: The finale airs and it is not well loved to say the least. The episode is short, Dean dies by falling on a nail to death fighting vampire clowns, and there are several characters left with dangling unresolved plot threads and arcs, including Castiel. The car is in heaven though. There is very little heard from the cast and crew, if anything.

November 22nd, 2020: Misha Collins, in a livestream, tells a fan that Castiel and Jack are remaking heaven together, Cas has his wings back, and they are rainbow-colored. He had, however, mentioned the rainbow wings before.

November 24th, 2020: The Spanish dub of the confession is released and a "rogue" translator has written "Y yo a ti" or "I love you too" as Dean's response. Destiel goes canon in Spanish. Tumblr stops working as a result.

November 25th, 2020: tumblr user @thebloggerbloggerfun claims Jensen Ackles said "I had a member of the film crew record the confession scene on my phone for me" #unsourced #releasethetapes

November 26th, 2020: Misha doesn't appreciate the rogue translator, but walks that opinion back later the same day

November 27th, 2020: A "leaked" Italian dub of the confession scene shows a mutual confession.

November 28th, 2020: President Obama follows a destiel account on Twitter

November 30th, 2020: The supposed "Italian dub" is revealed as a fake created by user @iotiamo using sound clips from other parts of the Italian dub on show.

December 1st, 2020: Twitter user @mothdean says "misha I know you have a stan acc and spy on us so can we have a hazel update please"

December 3rd, 2020: Misha tweets about Hazel snoring and this is taken as possible confirmation of Misha's secret stan account

December 11th, 2020: A script from Cas's perspective leaks. It says "We see Cass's POV of Dean again - his face drawn, drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester."

December 16th, 2020: Newsweek runs an article about an article that Misha wrote about the Lewinsky affair while interning in the Clinton White House in which Misha comes off as rather thirsty for Bill

December 20th, 2020: All Supernatural related materials disappear off the CW's website due to a copyright dispute with Warner Brothers

December 31st, 2020: Mishapocalypse redux

February 9th, 2021: Spn cast members Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris tweet about a party at the Roadhouse and it grows to become a full Destiel wedding

February 16th, 2021: @steveyockey made a fairly benign post about Jensen Ackles. The notes went wild in a variety of ways and started a rumor that Spn writer Steve Yockey was dead

February 20th, 2021: Steve Yockey is not dead and he should say it

March 3rd, 2021: The German dub drops and it is also romantic in tone

March 6-8th, 2021: A virtual con happens where Jensen discusses Chaos Machine and Jared says he wants to be in their next project. They also show that WAP video. Jensen is giving full mountain man preparing to play Soldier Boy.

March 10th, 2021: The French dub is released. Cas says, "I love you, Dean" and Dean now responds, "Don't do this to me, Castiel"

March 13th, 2021: The company Amazon tweets about Castiel and Misha Collins asks if they ship Deancas or Wincest. Subsequently apologizes.

March 16th, 2021: Misha says he can't speak as Castiel because Warner Brothers" specifically forbade it. #cwsniperconfirmed

March 17th, 2021: Sam and Eileen are getting married! I have no idea how this came about but I'm happy for them

March 23rd, 2021: Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris claim on Twitter that the Roadhouse party was about Valentine's day and not a wedding. Ferris specifically said that she worked on the show and that people tried to make Dean/Cas into "something that it wasn't", She also stated she doesn't "know what queerbaiting is" and that it was due to an "agenda". This led to #deanisbi trending on Twitter and Tumblr.

March 31st, 2021: Some possibly fake leaked scripts come up for sale on eBay. Also, Jensen is Batman.

April 1st, 2021: Mishapocalypse redux

April 6th, 2021: Leaked scripts from the 2 final episodes pop up and have several mentions of Cas in them that were omitted. Dean even thinks about Cas's confession when confronting Chuck.

April 18th, 2021: Scripts from seasons 12 and 13 leak. These include scenes from after Cas's death

May 17th, 2021: Jensen's band Radio Company releases an album including the song Watching Over Me

June ~5th, 2021: Misha says at a convention that Watching Over Me is about Castiel. Jensen neither confirms nor denies this when asked about it

June 11th, 2021: It is announced that Misha is publishing a book of poetry

June 18th, 2021: The Russian dub airs and Dean's line is changed to "Don't you dare, Cas"

June 24-28th, 2021: Jensen and Daneel Ackles reveal that they are making a Supernatural prequel series following John and Mary Winchester (a story that NOBODY was asking for). Jensen will reprise his role as Dean and will narrate. Misha hints that he would like to be involved, as do Ruthie Connell, Samantha Ferris, Matt Cohen, and Julie McNiven (the perils of having a cast of mostly immortal characters). But Jared Padalecki first says that he is happy for the Ackles's, he later said he was "gutted", then responded to Robbie Thompson's tweet calling him a "coward" and saying "what an awful thing you've done". The next day, Jensen and Jared both do damage control and say they'll always be brothers

July 17th, 2021: People are asking if Destiel will be canon in Space Jam, Misha's poetry book's cover is revealed to lukewarm reviews and people are talking about a particular poem about piss, and Perfume Genius releases an article that is a self-insert vore fanfiction about having sex with Jensen Ackles

August 2nd, 2021: Perfume Genius is at it again with "Last Friday, I had my eyes removed by Jared Padalecki". No, I do not know why she is doing this.

August 9th, 2021: Destiel fics hit 100k on Ao3. Misha tweets his support and people remember that he sometimes reads fanfiction and theorize he has an A03 account

September 1st, 2021: Misha makes his first Tiktok. There is a short intro before he calls cut, walks behind a screen, and strips his clothes off

September 3rd, 2021: Jake Abel uses Michael and Adam to help sell his hot sauce brand

September 4th, 2021: Misha confirms that the love between Castiel and Dean was "reciprocated"

September 9th, 2021: A clip of the real Italian dub of the confession scene goes viral as it is revealed that, unlike the Spanish dub, they change the line to "ti voglio bene" or essentially "I love you like family". Misha responds with a video saying "Ciao Italia, ti amo" with the subtitle "Love is love in any language"

September 21st, 2021: Misha drops the fact that one of his poems is from Castiel's perspective.

September 30th, 2021: Jensen will be appearing at a con on the same day as Misha and not with Jared for "professional reasons"

October 4th, 2021: Misha responds to a fan's tweet by saying that Jensen has "crazy eyes and a knife in his pocket"

October 10th, 2021: Daneel posts a picture of Jensen intently reading Misha's poetry book in front of a roaring fire on Instagram. Misha responds that he misses them even more

October 12th, 2021: Jensen is cast in Rust, a (rather ill-fated) western and Misha says "Yippie-ki-yay" and calls him a stud in the comments

October 16th, 2021: Denvercon. Jensen and Jared reunite for the first time since THE INCIDENT

April 24th, 2022: Misha Collins says in terms of being an extrovert, an introvert, or a bisexual, he joked "I'm all three". This led to the internet celebrating Misha's newly revealed bisexuality.

April 25th, 2022: Misha Collins comes out as straight. Oops!

June 19th, 2022: According to Misha, Dean's heaven was supposed to be at the Roadhouse with all his friends and Cas was going to be there with him

November 7th, 2022: Misha calls Elon Musk a snowflake

November 12th, 2022: Tumblr starts planning another Mishapocalypse

January 24th, 2023: Jensen and the cast of the Winchesters throw Dean Winchester a birthday party, including wearing silly little hats

February 26th, 2023: At JIBcon 11, Jensen sings an improvised song about an angel while Misha sits cross-legged on the floor looking up at him

April 1st, 2023: 10 year anniversary of the Mishapocalypse

April 16th, 2023: A year after his bisexual whoopsie daisy, Misha says that Warner Brothers asked him to "let it go" and keep pretending to be bisexual.

August 23, 2023: Rogue Spanish translator is revealed to not have gone rogue at all but instead to have followed the script he was given, confirming the existence of a mutual love confession that was cut at some point.

If you can remember any events and dates that I haven't found, please let me know and I'll add them! I haven't really rounded out 2022 and 2023 yet.

[preseriesdean]

for @spnficrecfest day seven: outsider pov 🧡

JOHN POV

Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName 10.3k words, rated M, published 2018, underage John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.

Flagstaff by Linden 7.3k words, rated T, published 2014 John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

Generosity by astolat 1.7k words, rated E, published 2007 John had traded the gun; he'd have traded away more, and he was still feeling the cold dread of the moment when the demon had cocked its head like a pistol and said, "You know, I'm feeling generous today," because if it hadn't��taken more, that was only because it figured what was in store was going to be worse.

lost in yesterday by margaryes / @christsam 1k words, not rated, published 2023 John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

half the man i used to be by dollylux 2.2k words, rated M, published 2016 John has a gradual, horrifying realization.

Mary's Angels by FrancesHouseman 3.1k words, rated G, published 2016 There's one more silver bullet in the chamber; one last shot at the sikutor, the ice siren that has Dean in thrall. John takes aim, and misses.

OTHERS POV

Buy You a Mockingbird by candle_beck (a.k.a. thee outsider pov fic of all time no contest) 10.3k words, rated M, published 2011, author chose not to warn A genuine horror story.

Multitude of Sins by Linden 4.4k words, rated T, published 2015 Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness 5.7k words, rated E, published 2021, soulless!sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else.

I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter 3.9k words, rated M, published 2007 If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.

Other Brothers by homo_pink 7k words, rated M, published 2020, underage A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Try asking by @goshen-applecrumbledore 7.4k words, rated T, published 2022 “Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.” “Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”

charmer & gentle by Askance 3.7k words, rated G, published 2015 The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

Happy Wife, Happy Life by petrichorsam pre-slash, 7.1k words, rated T, published 2023 The hunters at Johnny's Roadhouse have heard enough tales about Dean Winchester's wife, Sam, to fill a book, and yet no one has ever seen her.

[artyandink]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

A/N 2 - All the chapters are named after drinks. The intensity of the chapter depends on the drink I chose for the title :) and banners are by @cafekitsune

TW: Alcohol (duh), mentions of drugs, roofies, abuse, mentions of abuse/r@pe, smoking, Ruby (she’s a warning in itself), unhinged group chat (also a warning in itself)

two - daiquiri

Megolodon: Cassieeee

Casanova: What?

Megolodon: You’re late

You: Yeahhhh, we’ve been waiting for weeks

Ben Dover: Sabbatical’s over, brother

Casanova: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Ruby-gina George: To hell with fifteen minutes, get your ass over here

Megolodon: Listen to the nice lady

Ruby-gina George: Shut up

Megolodon: Bite me

Ruby-gina George: Keep it up and I just might

Megolodon: I bet you’d like to

bDe: didn’t know you two swung that way

You: Neither did I

Ruby-gina George: WAIT NO

ScarJo: That’s news to me

Ben Dover: News to all of us, darling

Queen B: I leave for FIVE MINUTES and we’re already out of the closet

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Ruby-gina George: HELL NO

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Megolodon: THAT WASN’T THE MEANING-

ScarJo: We accept you, dw

Ruby-gina George: die in a hole

bDe: sounds like overcompensating

Ruby-gina George: ALL OF YOU DIE IN A HOLE

The clink of glasses filled the atmosphere, along with merry shouts, whistles and cheers as glass after glass slammed down onto the counter. But it wasn’t patrons, no. Afternoons were always chilled out, since not many patrons stopped by. The evenings always got the raunchiest. So here you all were, egging on Castiel and Benny in a shot contest. There were five shots of the Roadhouse’s strongest bottle of hard liquor, and you were all seeing who could down them the fastest. None of the people in the room were lightweights. There were lightweights, heavyweights, and then there were the bartenders at the Roadhouse, who Meg liked to call ‘jumbo-weights’.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” You were yelling, your voice mixed with those of Dean, Meg, Bela, Ruby and Jo. Benny finished first, slamming down the shot glass and whooping loudly, not even that buzzed while Cas dejectedly sipped his last shot, having missed by the fraction of a second.

“Cassie, sweetie, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Meg purred, gripping Cas’ shoulders tightly from behind. “You’re out of practice.”

“Or maybe I’m just good at throwing ‘em back.” Benny smirked, but then his smile dropped. “That sounded better in my head.”

“Glad we can agree.” You snickered, then cleared up the shot glasses. “C’mon, what next?”

“Meg.” Ruby shot up from her seat, beckoning her over. “You. Me. Shot challenge. Now.”

“So polite.” Meg drawled, but got up anyway, a familiar sultry smile on her lips as she lined up for the competition. “Bring it on, darling, I can do this in my sleep.” Benny racked the shots, a giggle coming from your mouth as Dean awkwardly looked to Castiel.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Dean smiled, putting his hand out. “Dean. Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak, but everyone calls me Cas.” Cas shook Dean’s hand, finding himself warming up to this stranger.

“Cas.” Dean repeated under his breath, then nodded. “Alright, Cas. Let’s get you some water to wash down that hard liquor.”

“That would be ideal.” Cas nodded, instantly following Dean. In the meantime, Ruby and Meg were slamming back shots, and Ruby was just tagging behind Meg. You were egging them on, but you noticed something. Ruby usually downed shots easy as breathing. Now she wasn’t, which confused you. However, you brushed it off. It couldn’t be something bad. Your resident Regina George always was tough as hell.

Ruby-gina George: Been there, done that messed around

Megolodon: I'm having fun, don't put me down

Ruby-gina George: I'll never let you sweep me off my feet

Megolodon: THIS TIME BABY, I’LL BE BULLETPROOFFFFFF

You: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUUUUUUU

bDe: *dies of laughter*

ScarJo: I’ve been on a beer run for FIVE MINUTES and y’all go mad

Queen B: Tsk tsk, eyes on the road, hon

ScarJo: Joke’s on you, I’m in the store

Ben Dover: Damn, how’d you get there so fast

ScarJo: I stole the keys to Val

Queen B: explosion incoming-

You: You did WHAT?!

ScarJo: I’M SORRY SHE’S A FAST CAR

You: YOU’RE GONNA PAY

Megolodon: Girlie, it’s just a car

Ruby-gina George: how dare you, Val’s a masterpiece

Megolodon: I mean, she shouldn’t take it that heavily

bDe: no she absolutely should, go to town sweetheart

You: THANK YOU

Ben Dover: Dean, brother, don’t encourage that behaviour

bDe: i will

Ben Dover: What if someone stole your car, then

bDe: murder

ScarJo: oh wow

You: SOMEONE GETS IT

bDe: lots of murder

Ben Dover: Brother-

bDe: torture first

bDe: lots of torture, then a whole lotta murder

ScarJo: Benny, you chose the wrong role models

You: shut up, YOU TOOK VAL

bDe: then more murder, and i’m gonna throw the bodies in a lake, no one will ever know

Ruby-gina George: Hold up, I’m coming with you

You: Jo, I’ve got your gravestone prepped

ScarJo: And you say we’re unhinged

You: Get your ass back to the roadhouse

bDe: i’ll get away with it, I swear

Megolodon: Why am I actually enjoying this

bDe: if I can’t have my baby, no one can

Evenings were always the more raunchy of times at the Roadhouse. The bar was now full of chatting passers-by, girls dressed in skimpy clothes and biker boys with tattoos winding around their necks. The shift today was yours, Ruby’s, Dean’s and Meg’s. There were an overwhelming amount of females working at the Roadhouse, if you were incredibly honest. As for the employees not working behind the bar, they were roughing it up at a booth, hollering and hooting like owls at a baseball game.

“So, darlin’, what do you do in your free time?” Dean asked you, cleaning out a glass with a rag and shooting a wink to a couple of giggling girls nearby. You poured a whiskey for a patron, sliding it across the table.

“Well, I’m a big fan of joyrides.” You answered with a goofy grin. “My Mustang’s always fun to take a spin in.” The mention of your Mustang got Dean’s eyebrows up to his hairline as he pointed out of the window.

“That beaut’s yours?” He exclaimed in disbelief, laughing. “Damn. That’s a serious muscle car.”

“Yeah, my Valkyrie. Val’s my sweetheart, always will be.” You looked up wistfully at the mention of your beloved car. “And your Chevy Impala, she’s absolutely gorgeous. I could listen to her purr all day.”

“That’s my Baby.” He bore the same wistful look you did, then nudged you. “We should take ‘em out for spins. Y’know, joyrides.”

“You sure?” You chuckled, looking up at him. “I don’t drive easy.”

“Even better.” He gave you a little wink paired with a click of his tongue. He flipped a bottle in his hand, pouring a whiskey shot expertly and handing it to you. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You took the shot with a chuckle, sending the glass over to the sink. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“You’re very welcome.” He poured himself a shot and downed it, and you couldn’t help but focus slightly on his pouty, pink lips, almost hyper-fixating on them. But you tore your eyes away to serve a customer at the bar, a rather shady-looking guy who had a snake tattoo on his neck. He was also wearing sunglasses inside, which had Dean raising an eyebrow.

“You know who wears sunglasses inside?” He muttered into your ear as the man ordered a glass of Jack Daniel’s with his eyes on Meg. “Blind people… and douchebags.”

“I can’t fault you for that logic.” You laughed, pouring the man a glass and passing it to him as you turned back to Dean. “About that joyride, I’m down.”

His eyes lit up, a puppy-like grin now on his face as he fully faced you, elbow leaning on the counter. You couldn’t help but stare deep into those mossy eyes, mirroring the infectious smile on his face just as Meg stumbled up to you both with a groggy smile on your face, whiskey glass clutched tightly in her hand.

“You t-two look so… cute.” She giggled, leaning heavily on you. You saw the glass cup in her hand, and you caught a whiff of… Jack Daniel’s? “Smilin’ at each other, lovin’ each other, so adorable!” You raised an eyebrow, holding her steady as she continued to ramble. “You should marry each other. Ugh, I feel so… weird.”

“Does Meg usually get this slammed?” Dean whispered, and you shook your head, confused. That’s when Ruby sprang out from behind the bar, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his neck and slamming his head roughly down on the counter. “Woah, damn!”

“Ruby!” You gasped, but she snatched the glass from your hands and showed you the contents. There was a powdery white substance in it that you instantly recognised. “Damn it- she’s been roofied.”

“Bastard thought he was smooth with it.” She growled, holding the guy down. “It takes Meg a lot of strong tequila and a Long Island to make her that slammed.”

“I’m surprised you know that, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m callin’ the police. Get this jackass locked up.” Dean glared daggers at who could’ve been Meg’s potential assaulter as he dialled the emergency number and explained the situation. Meg clung onto you, and you felt bad for her as you went to haul her off to bed, entertaining her every mindless babble about something or the other.

“You’re pretty.” Meg slurred as she hobbled with you. “You look like Rubes. She’s pretty too. Very pretty.”

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous.” You replied dryly, not out of disdain for Ruby but rather out of extreme concern for your friend. “Absolutely stunning.” Though there was part truth in that. You’d always wanted to be like Ruby- not give much of a damn. Able to speak every weird and/or rude comment that came to her mind and everyone would worship her for it. She could talk openly about where she came from, confidently, with a flick of her blonde hair and my-give-a-hoots-are-on-vacation attitude, but you weren’t inclined to open your mouth about it. “Let’s get you in here.”

You opened the door to your bedroom, limping to the bed and just letting Meg flop- “Wheeeeee!” She squealed as she went, but then was out cold the moment her face hit the mattress. You smiled at her antics despite the seriousness of the situation, drawing up your blanket and tucking her in, staying with her for a bit until you were sure she was ok. Then, as you descended the stairs, you’d found that the gang had cleared out the bar, which was helpful in the current climate. Especially now that the dude had been carted off to the nearest station.

You made eye contact with Ruby, who looked livid, but softened slightly when she saw you. “Is she ok?” She asked expectantly, and the tension seemed to lift a fraction when you nodded.

“We’re gonna have to tell my mom about this.” Jo sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“The dude who tried his luck on Meg?” Dean shrugged, his brow furrowed a tad in concern. “His luck’s gonna say adiós once Ellen gets her hands on him.”

A few days later, you were up early, sat talking to Dean in one of the booths before you went on your joyride. The sun filtered in through rickety blinds, illuminating Dean’s emerald eyes as they gazed at you in a way that would bore through your soul. You hadn’t known Dean for more than a week, but he was such an easy person to be around. He was witty, but sometimes had trouble coming up with comebacks when flustered, had an easy demeanour while also seemingly being kind of lost himself. He was like a walking contradiction, and it intrigued you to no end. He could look like a sharp-jawed, drop dead gorgeous heartbreaker, but in his grey Henley, he just looked soft and innocent. Handsome and sweet.

Though, you knew he was too good for you. What with his smooth words, caring personality and overall just being Dean. You were, if anyone find out where you came from, a personified chessboard. Your entire being was checkered with black and white.

“C’mon.” He stood up, looking to the jukebox on the other side of the room. “Let’s dance.”

“Let’s what, sorry?” Your eyebrows raised slightly as he jogged over to the jukebox, playing Tiny Dancer by Elton John and outstretching his hand for you. “Oh, no, I’m not a dancer.”

“C’mon, don’t leave me hangin’ here.” Dean’s outstretched hand beckoned you over almost like a siren’s call, and what with his boyish grin, the charming sparkle in his eyes and the overall feeling of being wanted got you up with him and taking his calloused hand in your own, skin tingling with the feel of the ring on his finger, his own feeling sparks upon the silver band on your hand pressing against his warm skin. He drew you close, his arm around your waist in a sort of non-pervy way, like he wasn’t trying to force himself on you.

“Warning. I might step on your toes.” You gave him a look which was playfully serious, but Dean just gave you a cocky grin. Damn that smile.

“Just follow me, sweetheart, and you’ll be fine.” He raised the other hand that was already interlocked with his, the low rumble of his voice putting you at ease as he swayed you both from side to side, moving in a circle with a look in his eyes that he couldn’t explain as he gazed down at you. “See? You’re a goddamn natural.”

“Maybe I have a good teacher.” You replied smoothly, which seemed to stroke his ego, as he shot you a wink and a click of his tongue.

“Damn right, you do.” Dean gave you a bashful chuckle, then bit his lip as he smiled, both of you continuing the slow spin in a circle while Elton’s mellow voice hazed the atmosphere. “I’m gonna spin you, ok?”

“Don’t drop me.” You quipped, and he shook his head with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’.” He spun you out and then in, his arms crossed over your front.

“Did you have special dance lessons?” You asked with a giggle, holding his hands, his fingers gently rubbing and playing with yours. “You’re really good at this.”

“Well, my friend Bobby taught me.” Dean sighed into your ear, a low chuckle falling past his lips. “He’s a grouchy ol’ bastard, but I had a prom date that I needed to impress. Sadly, I never got to go with her. I was… sick… on the night of prom.” You brushed off the brief hesitancy, instead enjoying this brief moment of calm. Dean could tell that your nerves were frazzled from the events of Wednesday night. That’s the great thing about Dean. He reads people easily, all for his insistence on having no emotional intelligence whatsoever. You assumed that this was a distraction method.

“Ellen’s always been one for dancing.” You mentioned, shrugging as you rocked from side to side. You saw Ellen as practically a second mom. She took you in, and Benny, when you needed it. But she was lonely, and you were pained to see her like that. “But she hasn’t in a while. Not since she lost her husband.”

“Huh.” Dean’s voice had an intrigued tone to it. Like he had an idea. “We should set ‘em up.”

“Ellen… and this Bobby of yours?”

“Yeah, they’re the same age, both lonely old souls - with all due respect - and they would get along.” He tilted your head with his index so you’d look at him and his charismatic smirk, just begging you to say yes. “Whaddya say we play matchmaker, sweetheart?”

You found yourself conceding quickly to this man’s goddamn charms. “Ok, fine. But if this goes south, you’re to blame.”

“Duly noted.” He laughed, nodding proudly and squeezing your hand. “That deserves another spin.” He spun you again, so then you were facing him. “Y’know, I’m kinda honoured. Pretty lady such as you, dancin’ with a grunt like me… gives a man all sorts of ideas.”

“Are you flirting with me, Dean?” You raised a playful eyebrow, again involuntarily finding yourself giggling like a lovesick schoolgirl at his smooth words.

“Maybe.”

“That’s rather bold.”

“I don’t see you complaining.” You both locked eyes for a moment, then burst out into laughter, his lower register mixing well with yours in the dim, naturally lit room.

You were happy with this man. Really happy, that you’d found a good friend. You found a good friend in Dean Winchester.

And he’d found a new home in you.

The purr of Baby’s engine.

The windows rolled down and blowing through your hair.

Guns ‘n’ Roses’ ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ playing on a cassette tape.

All of it had you hooked on an impossibly addictive high, hopped up on the euphoria of singing the lyrics at the top of your lungs with Dean in the driver’s seat, a grin that could only connote inner nostalgia on his face as you both belted out the words off by heart. The feeling of the wind on your face, the thrill of how fast Baby was speeding down the highway and the sensation of being unchained… it all got you above the altitude of a kite.

Far above.

Dean’s eyes were on you when he wasn’t looking at the road, admiring the way the light hit the curve of your face and illuminated your eyes. He took in your sweet voice, filling him like a warm hug. He’d not known you for long, but to him, you were home. Someone he could turn to.

He found himself hooked on that pretty smile. Your smooth words that contrasted your otherwise humble nature. How one second you could be the calming force and next you’re busting out your wild side like nobody’s business. You seemed so… sure… of who you were. So easy on a misguided soul like him.

After his baby brother went to Stanford, his father didn’t see much point of keeping him there. John was a drunk, and a notoriously violent one at that, and he’d prevented Dean from going to college so he could take care of Sam. But his Sammy was all grown up, and he didn’t need Dean anymore. That broke him in pieces, and made him desperate to find someone to pick them up because he’d lost them.

He turned to you with a wide grin, meeting your eyes as the final chorus blared on the radio. There was no place you two would rather have been right now than here, just letting loose and having fun. Neither of you were allowed to be kids. Sammy was Dean’s reminder, and the ring on your finger was yours.

Painful reminders, but they were both ones you couldn’t let go.

Then Dean switched the cassette tape once the final notes rolled out, Eye of the Tiger playing loud and proud on the speakers.

This was like trying to get Sammy to eat his proteins when he was a kid. Only harder.

“C’mon, Bobby, it’s just a date.” Dean reasoned, chuckling slightly at his surrogate father sat in Baby’s passenger seat and looking rather like a pug with the grumpy face he had on. “You’re gonna sit down, be yourself and everything’ll go smooth like butter.”

Bobby bristled, glaring daggers at Dean, lips pursed. “See, that’s easy to say when you’re not the one on this date, boy. She’s gonna be some classy broad who orders a pinot noir, or a Chateau Margaux or whatever-the-hell, and I’m gonna be stuck wonderin’ what the hell all these fancy names mean.”

“See, you don’t know until you try.”

“Don’t give me that chick flick crap, you idjit.”

“Look, all I’m saying is don’t get too hopped up on the idea of being perfect for Ellen.” Dean shrugged. “Be cool, yeah, and flatter her, give her some compliments and make her feel at home, but don’t go saying things like-”

“This sucks balls.” Bobby grumbled, not at all to Dean’s surprise.

“See? Don’t say that.” He saw Ellen in the rear view mirror, and clapped Bobby’s shoulder. “Ok, Bobby, you’re up. Knock her socks off for me, yeah?”

Bobby had no choice but to get out of the car, hoping that he didn’t look like a fool, or maybe his gelled back hair was neat and didn’t have a dreaded flyaway. That his collar wasn’t popped. That his jeans didn’t have some unexplained stain on them. He stepped to Ellen, who gave him a warm smile. “Balls.” He muttered under his breath. She really did look like a classy lady, which sent his embarrassment into overdrive.

“Hi, I’m Ellen.” She introduced, her voice smooth as honey and making Bobby even more nervous that yes, this woman was definitely far above his league.

“Bobby.” He replied stiffly, but then held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Guess so.” They linked arms, striding towards the restaurant, where you and Dean had made a reservation. When the two were guided to their table, they were provided with a drinks menu. Ellen didn’t even take one minute scanning it, flicking through at the speed of light and announcing that she knew what she wanted. Bobby, however, was stumped. Wine? Pinot grigio? Champagne? But there were so many options for one champagne. Why couldn’t the damn drink options be more simple? Beer was definitely out of the question, though his mouth watered and taste buds craved for the Heineken embossed in gold on the menu.

But he knew that he wanted the medium rare steak, announcing that to Ellen, who replied that she’d be having sea bass fillets with specialised dressing and garnish which sounded rather fancy. It did nothing to soothe Bobby’s poor nerves. Ellen, meanwhile, was torn between remaining soft spoken with this man or being, y’know, herself. He seemed decent, and considerate, with the way he carefully looked over the drinks and food menus.

“Madam, sir, can I take your order?” A waiter with a flip notebook arrived beside them, and Bobby gestured for Ellen to speak, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“The sea bass fillet with the special dressing and garnish,” Ellen answered smoothly, her eyes flicking to Bobby to gauge his reaction to the next words, “and one Heineken.”

The choice of drink lifted Bobby’s spirits instantly, and that gave him the green light to not strive to impress the beautiful lady across from him. “And I’ll have the steak, medium rare. And as for the drink, I’ll have what the lady’s having.”

“Of course.” The waiter took the menus and left the table, inciting a moment for the two to laugh at their own anxiety.

“You thought I’d be one of those high-horse, classy women, didn’t you?” Ellen guessed, and Bobby nodded bashfully.

“Guilty. I haven’t done this in a long while.” He chuckled, warming up to Ellen quickly. “You’re a woman after my own heart. Always loved a good Heineken.”

“You and me both.”

After they’d had dinner, they exited the restaurant, but instead of parting ways, Bobby offered his arm once more to Ellen. “Mind walking for a while with this ol’ fool?”

“Not at all.”

NEXT UP:

“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”

Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.

Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.

Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.

“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”

TAGLIST:

@hobby27 @jackles010378 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @eexphoria @onlyangel-444 @mxltifxnd0m @iloveyou2mia @snowayumi @itssofiasstuff @yallgotkik @aylacavebear @muhahaha303 @k-slla

Like, reblog, and let me know if you want to join the taglist!

[nightxcreature]

Roadhouse Rendezvous

Summary: Reader and Dean have a little fun in the Roadhouse Bathroom.

A/N: Number 3? For @jacklesversebingo 2024! I’m having so much fun writing these, I hope you enjoy this one! This is for the prompt, “I’ll give you $50 to forget what you just saw.” Prompt is in bold.

Warnings: Slight Smut, sexual innuendos for sure, cursing because I like that, caught in the act

My hands were lost in the flannel around his torso, pulling him hard against me as his tongue danced between my lips. His right hand was wrapped tightly around my throat causing the silver ring on his finger to cut deliciously into my skin. The irony of Ten Seconds to Love by Mötley Crüe playing on the jukebox out front isn’t lost on me when he suddenly shrugs off the flannel and shoves me against the door.

“Want you so bad, Baby.” He mumbles against my lips, the hand formerly around my throat making its way to the hem of my shirt, “Need you.”

I gasp as he nips my neck, slowly running his tongue over the sting, “Take me.”

A guttural groan leaves his lips and his kisses me deeply. I feel a tap on my arm as he instructs me to lift them above my head and my shirt soon finds itself on the floor. His big hands cup my breast and I can’t stop the moan that leaves me, “Hurry, Dean. I don’t have long before Jo realizes I’m gone.”

“She can run the bar alone for a while.” He mumbles into my neck as he reaches around to unhook my bra, “You’ve taught her well enough.”

I gasp again as he lifts me into his arms, placing my back against the door, “Besides,” he starts, a shit-eating grin on his face, “I want to take my time and enjoy this meal. It’s not everyday that I get to fuck my girl in her mom’s bar.” He winks and drops to his knees, sliding the skirt up my legs as he places them on his shoulders.

My hands find themselves in his hair at the feeling of his breath against my core and I slam my eyes shut, “Please.” I whisper.

I hear the chuckle before I feel him shake his head, “Oh, she’s beggin’ now? I thought you had to get back to work?”

With a roll of eyes I shove his face into me and he groans loudly as I snap, “Shut up and eat me.”

“Yes, ma’am” He says with a smile, reaching up my skirt to pull my panties aside, “Gladly…”

He slowly lowers his lips to my entrance when suddenly the toilet in one of the stalls flushes. I rush to jump off of him while he slams into the counter to grab his gun.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?!” I whisper yell, “I thought you scoped this bathroom out before bringing me in here!”

He shrugs sheepishly and hands me my shirt from where it fell under the counter, “The place is dead, who was gonna be in here?!”

I slip my shirt on just before Ash steps out of the stall, “Hey, I’m all for a little lovin’, but I think you ladies should find a room. Preferably, not a public restroom.”

I roll my eyes again and sigh, “Ash, I’ll pay you $50 to forget what you just saw.”

He gives me a shrug and turns to Dean, “And you?”

“And me, what?”

“Listen, my tall, handsome friend, $50 may cover what I did or did not see, but I’m going to need a little extra to cover the things I heard.”

The blush heating my neck is slowly making its way up my face and I could melt into the floor when he quotes back to us, “‘I want to take my time and enjoy this meal’ Really? It isn’t everyday you get to fuck your girl in her mom’s bar, and it won’t be today either if I happen to go out there and slip up to Ellen.”

Dean digs $100 out of his wallet and places it in Ash’s hand, “Just forget we were ever in here.”

“Oh, this moment will live in my nightmares forever. But I won’t tell anyone what I saw, your secrets are always safe with Dr. Bad-Ass.” He says with a wink, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pretty lady waiting on me in my office.”

“Your fucking computer doesn’t count!” I yell as he bows out the door with a laugh, “How fuckin’ embarrassing.”

Dean snorts and I hear Jo yelling for help as the Roadhouse regulars start rolling in, “Get out there,” he says smacking my ass and pushing me toward the door, “I’ll steal ya on your break and we can do it in the parking lot.”

I grin and kiss his lips as I head out the door and behind the bar, “Your usual, Bobby?”

——-————————————————————————

A/N: A fun one for Jacklesverse Bingo! I’m working on Part 2 of Don’t call Me and should hopefully have it out tomorrow! 🫶🏼

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @k-slla

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour XV

Warning: swearing, violence, smut

Your conversation with Rook had you so tense you could barely see straight. You didn’t get a chance to say much to him after his confession, interrupted by everyone else piling onto the bus to head to the next destination. Colson could sense the weirdness between you but he didn’t say anything, almost like he was letting you come to him.

You couldn’t really accept that Rook meant the horrible things he’s said to you about Colson. You tried to not let it bother you but deep down you knew it was something that you worried about, in the back of your mind. You’d spent the last few weeks with him waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

You’re not really sure where you two are given your conversation the night before so when the bus quiets down and everyone begins their rituals for bed, you scoot into your usual bunk and try to let sleep overcome you. Rook hadn’t really said much to you but he hadn’t been rude either. When you stopped for dinner, he stood outside the roadhouse bathroom for you for safety. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t ask him to, he just did it anyway. You can tell deep down that the two of you will work through your issues but it still hurts that he said what he did.

The sound of your curtain pulls you from your thoughts and arms wrapping around your waist and yanking you from your warm bed makes you squeal with fear. You try to fight whoever it is, not sure if everyone is pulling some tour bus initiation with you or if someone has broken onto the bus. You flail in the strangers arms until you hear a familiar voice.

“Baby, it’s just me,” Colson whispers in your ear and you instantly relax. Your heartbeat slows and your breathing evens out. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you pout as he sets you down in the aisle. He looks sexy in nothing but workout shorts and no t-shirt and you take a second to drink him in.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” he teases you, half covering his body with his hands. “Why are you sleeping in the bunk and not in my bed?”

“Oh I…” 

You don’t really have a reason. You would be more than happy to sleep in his bed but you weren’t sure if he’d want that given you’ve only done it once on the bus and that was before everyone knew about the two of you.

Will everyone just assume we’re fucking all night?

Sharing a bed to only sleep feels…couple like. You’re trying to push down that desperate need almost every woman has to ‘label it’ but it seems almost unavoidable at this point. You realise by the confused look on Colson’s face that you didn’t actually answer his question so you fumble for reason.

“I was waiting for you to invite me,” you lie quickly, covering your discomfort with a small smile.

“Just take her and fuck her already,” Rook groans from his bunk and your cheeks immediately heat.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Colson rips his curtain open and glowers at his friend. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rook answers calmly but his eyes dart to your face and Colson catches the movement.

“Oh my fucking god Rook,” Colson growls. “Are you in love with her?” he spits the words like they’re venom in his mouth.

The very heated conversation has garnered the attention of everyone on the bus now and Sophie and Sam now stand at the door that separates the bunks from the front of the bus, watching the drama unfold uncomfortably. You want to say something, anything but words don’t seem enough at this point and you’re pretty sure Rook wouldn’t listen to anything you have to say right now anyway.

“Answer the fucking question asshole,” Colson screams in his face.

He practically drags Rook from his bunk and flings him to the floor. Sophie grabs your arm and pulls you away from the commotion as Rook jumps to his feet. You want to stop whatever is about to happen but Sophie won’t let you go.

“Let them work it out,” she whispers in your ear and you can feel the horrified expression on your face at her sense of calm.

“They’ll kill each other!” you screech at Colson takes his first swing at Rook, his fist connecting with Rook’s jaw. Rook recovers quickly and swings back.

“It’s the way they do things,” Sophie shrugs but doesn’t let your arm go.

“YOU HAD YOUR FUCKING CHANCE AND YOU BLEW IT!” Colson screams in Rook’s face as he pins him to the wall.

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET HER!”

You almost think they’ve forgotten you’re standing right there and the feminist in you is pissed but you can see Sophie’s logic. Rook’s words earlier weren’t about you, they were about Colson. About his concern for Colson's intentions. He just doesn’t want you getting hurt because he doesn’t want to lose either of his friends. Maybe part of it is still a possessive jealousy he feels that it didn’t work out with the two of you but that was years ago and he’s dated since. It’s not like he hasn’t moved on but the thought of you with Colson brings the feelings rushing back.

Would that have changed my decision after Colson kissed me for the first time?

The guilt that overtakes you at the answer to your internal question is crushing. Nothing could change how you feel about Colson, not even the possibility of hurting your best friend. You wish you could blame it on having been single for so long that you missed the feeling of being wanted but you know that’s not the truth. It’s because it’s Colson that wants you and nothing else. The man you’ve craved since the moment you met him, so much so that even Rook noticed it.

“Because you never looked at me the way you look at him.”

Colson and Rook are bloodied and bruises forming on both their faces. Their fight doesn’t look to be ending but you can’t stand watching them destroy each other for one more second. You pull away from Sophie and push your body between the two of them. Instantly, their fists stop and you can feel their ragged breathing as you press your palms into their chests. 

“Stop, please,” you beg them. You feel a drop of blood from Colson’s nose drop onto your arm but you don’t pull away. “I don’t want you to kill each other over me, that’s stupid and pointless. Besides, neither of you are actually mad at the other.”

“Like fucking hell I’m not,” Colson growls, trying to move you out of his way but you stand firm.

“No, you’re not. You’re pissed because you’re worried he’s going to do something to get between us but trust me, that is not what’s happening here and you,” turn to scrutinise Rook’s battered face. “You’re mad at yourself for not speaking up and because I didn’t ask for your input about Colson and me but here’s a fucking newsflash, you will not now nor will you ever have a say in my relationships. We went on one date a lifetime ago and you’ve been with plenty of women since so don’t you dare play the victim with us. This is a good thing that is happening to two of your closest friends, why would you want to stand in the way of that?”

Rook doesn’t answer you. He pushes away and stalks off to the kitchenette, pushing past Sam and Sophie. They each give you both a small smile before following after him. You know you probably should too but you also know you’re the last person Rook wants to see or talk to right now. He hates it when you’re picking a movie or what to have for dinner and he especially hates it right now. You’re always right. He can’t fight logic, he can’t fight rationality and he hates that about you. You’re always logical and rational about even the most minor decisions in life.

“Let’s clean your face up,” you grab Colson’s hand to lead him to the small bathroom. 

It’s slightly suffocating with the two of you in there but you don’t mind the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You grab a washcloth from the small pile under the sink and dampen it. You gently brush the blood away from under Colson’s nose, rinse it and repeat. Once the blood is gone, you wipe the cloth on his bloodied lip and the blood staining his chest and stomach. When you’re sure he is sufficiently clean, you turn back to the sink and wring the washcloth out, placing it in the small hamper in the bathroom. You rinse your arm under the water, washing away Colson’s dry blood, and your hands with soap. In the tight space, your ass brushes against Colson’s crotch every time you move. You feel his dick respond so you deliberately push back a little firmer until he growls. Wrapping his hand around your throat, he pulls you against him.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to bend you over and fuck you right here, rough and fast,” he nips at your ear and your panties pool with need.

“Do it,” you encourage him with a grin, staring at him with ‘fuck me’ eyes in the mirror.

Colson wastes no time bending you over the sink and ripping your panties down. He pulls his thick, hard cock from his shorts and rubs himself along your pussy lips a few times. He reaches around and places his hand in front of your mouth.

“Spit,” he instructs and you oblige.

Colson uses his now wet hand to lubricate his length with your saliva, stroking himself while he stares at you. Without warning, he lines himself up and plunges inside of you. You cry out and he immediately puts his hand over your mouth, muffling the curse words spewing from your lips. He spanks each one of your ass cheeks and you squeal with pleasure and pain. You can feel the handprints indenting on your skin but you don’t care.

“Dirty, dirty girl you are for daddy,” he praises you between thrusts and you’re practically a puddle under his sure movements. “I want you to come for me, can you do that for daddy?” you nod and he reaches his other hand around to rub your clit.

You drop your head, pleasure overcoming you, but Colson grabs your hair to pull you back up, burning you with his intense stare. You moan softly and grind back against him, practically fucking yourself against his dick. When he’s had enough of you taking control, Colson puts a hand on your hip and thrusts hard into you, impaling your pussy on his cock. You bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming out and his finger on your clit quickens. Before you can blink, the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had explodes through you. Your legs quiver, your pussy clenches and you’re all but falling to the bathroom floor. The only thing keeping you upright is Colson’s hands on your hips. It’s not long before he’s following your climax, thrusting roughly into you one more time before he fills you with thick ropes of cum.

Colson collapses against your back, his sweat smearing across your skin. He pants trying to drag in as much oxygen to his lungs as possible. You love the feeling of his face on your skin. the roughness of his stumble in contrast to your smooth skin. His lips brush up your spine and you shiver with his dick still inside you, softening. He kisses your shoulder blade, the top of your spine, your neck. You lean up, Colson slowly falling out of you, and you lean against him. You lift your arms over your head to wrap around his neck and you watch him in the mirror. Watch the movement of his lips, feel his hand reach under your shirt to cup your bare breasts. Embarrassment colours your cheeks as you realise he’s leaking out of you, the reminisce of your intimacy coating the bathroom floor. 

You pull away from him and grab the used washcloth from the hamper to clean the floor. You pull your sleep shorts back up to hold in anything that still remains inside you. Colson almost looks proud at that detail. He spins you, gripping your face in his hands, and kisses you for the first time since you got in here. You feel the cut on his lip as he moves against your own and he winces slightly when you run your tongue along it but he doesn’t pull back. Almost like he thinks your lips can heal him.

“We should go to bed,” you mumble against his lips. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours.

“Only if you tell me the truth,” he murmurs and you frown at him.

“About what?” he didn’t ask you a question since he started banging you against the bathroom sink.

“Why were you trying to sleep in your bunk and not with me?” he pulls away to look you in the eye when you answer. You bite your bottom lip, unsure how to word your reasoning without sounding needy or desperate.

“I guess…we never really finished that ground rules discussion and I don’t want to assume things because it’s not like we’re together or anything, not that I care but I just, I’ve never done this before and-” you’re rambling and you know you are but you can’t stop yourself. 

Realisation appears in Colson’s eyes and he smiles at you before kissing you again. This time though, it’s passionate, full of fire and hot burning need. It’s sweet and intoxicating and overpowering. You need to pull away but you don’t want to pull away. You can’t bring yourself to end such an emotional kiss but Colson makes the decision for you.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Colson asks you, a grin splitting his face knowing it’s the most 7th grade question in the world but you’re still practically melting that he asked it anyway.

“Ok,” you grin back and he seals it with a kiss.

This is pure joy and I’m going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.

Or so you thought.

******

Tag list: @mgklove99xx @anonymousme86

[harrywavycurly]

I like how Wayne handled asking about Eddie’s relationship could we get more of that? Maybe Wayne helping Eddie spoil the reader?👀☺️

Hiiii babes!! Of course you can get more Wayne!! I hope you enjoy 💖

- Look here for everything related to Eddie and his Princess✨

*Wayne may not understand why Eddie does what he does but that doesn’t mean he won’t help him when he asks*

“You need what?” “One of those things that when you cut up watermelon or that green melon what’s that called?” “Son you’re asking the wrong person about fruits…” “right..doesn’t matter what it’s called but I know you have one of those things that makes it into like little balls and shit I need to borrow it.” “Ohh you’re talking about a melon baller?” “Is…that really what it’s called?” “Don’t look at me I didn’t name the damn thing…but yeah it’s in the junk drawer I’ve never used it…you can keep it.” “Thanks Wayne…this is perfect.” “What do you need it for?” “She doesn’t eat enough fruit so I figured if it’s in cute little shapes and shit she’ll eat more of it.” “Cute little shapes huh?” “Don’t start…” “here maybe take those old cookie cutters too? If the balls don’t work maybe the heart and star will?” “Oh that’s a great idea. Thanks Wayne I appreciate it.” “Anytime…let me know how it goes.”

“She won’t like that one.” “What? Why not?” “It’s…scratchy.” “It may be god awful ugly with these green dots all over…but it sure as shit ain’t scratchy…” “to us yeah it’s soft but I know her…she won’t like how it feels and she needs a new blanket for the living room the one she uses now is falling apart.” “Okay what about that pink one with the white hearts? It doesn’t look scratchy?” “Let’s see…this could work…yeah she’ll like this one it’s similar to the one she already has and she typically likes to get the exact same things over and over.” “So this will work?…damn that’s soft…might have to get me one of these.” “Yeah it’ll work the only difference is the one she has now has white and purple hearts.” “And you don’t think she’ll notice?” “Oh she’ll notice but she won’t care…are you really getting one?” “Yeah this is the softest thing I’ve ever felt…she has good taste.” “She’ll love that you two have the same blanket.”

“Now just relax for a moment and tell me what happened.” “Some fucking dude at work asked for her number…even called her sweetheart.” “Okay and I can tell that’s made you upset.” “Well yeah she’s mine why do people think they can talk to her like that?” “Listen..I know you like to keep her wrapped up in this bubble of…safety but you’re not always gonna be around and…well she’s a cute girl so you’ve gotta just learn to deal with people making passes at her.” “I just know people will try to take advantage of her…I can’t fucking stand the thought of something happening to her because I wasn’t there and she doesn’t know how to defend herself.” “Then teach her.” “Teach her? Teach her what?” “How to tell someone to fuck off and defend herself…teach her how to feel confident enough to be able to stand her ground when you’re not there to do it for her.” “I don’t want to freak her out and teaching her how to hit someone will for sure…freak her out…” “don’t teach her to fight Eddie teach her how to say things with enough confidence that creeps and weirdos get the hint and leave her alone.” “I..how do I do that?” “I’ll help you okay? Just maybe bring her over sometime this week.” “She’s…just too nice sometimes…” “and that’s okay we just gotta teach her when to not be nice.” “Okay Roadhouse…”

“I got these for her.” “Oh tye dye socks…she’ll love these.” “Yeah? I wasn’t sure but I figured they were colorful and fuzzy for when she’s in the house and on sale so…I hope they fit.” “It’s socks Wayne they typically always fit but yeah…she needed new fuzzy ones she doesn’t like the flowered ones anymore they’ve gotten all dingy.” “I saw her in slippers the other day…I thought you had gotten rid of them because she kept trying to wear them outside the house?” “I tried…” “you tried?” “She looked like I just told her the tooth fairy wasn’t real when I tried to take them out of her closet…so yeah…she still has them.” “You’re such a softy…” “says the man worried about if she’s gonna like these fuzzy socks…” “i just want her to be comfortable while at home that’s all.” “Mhmm…right…” “listen you spoil her so damn much the least I can do is get her some damn socks okay?” “Okay…don’t worry she’ll love them.”

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Amy Rigby

Photo by Bert Eke

The singer-songwriter Amy Rigby got her start in the late 1980s and early 1990s in spry, New York-based country throwback groups Last Roundup and The Shams. Starting with 1996’s Diary of a Mod Housewife, Rigby has steadily released solo work that can break your heart with the contagious ache in her dry, distinctive voice or make you laugh out loud at the concussive put-downs she doles out. Rigby has a particular knack for turning the quotidian mythic and reminding us that the mythologized are ultimately just some guys. The music has remained rooted in country, but not confined by it. Hers is a guitar-forward style that can incorporate the bright highs of acoustic pop rock, crunchy roadhouse grooves, R&B, and even jazz. Alex Johnson, in his review of Rigby’s most recent release, Hang In There With Me, called the album “tough, witty rock and roll…[that] catalogs a lifetime of drags, uncertainties and disasters, but returns, again and again, to the people, moments and experiences that make it worthwhile, or bearable enough.”

Here are some things that Rigby has been listening to lately.

Warmduscher — “Eight Minute Machines”

Discovered via an online review of their Brooklyn show last year, one that made me want so badly to be sweating in a crowd with this band onstage.

Amelia White — “Get To The Show”

One of my Nashville pals and I love this track from her latest album. Amelia is always out working and rocking, written with the great Gwil Owen… Sometimes I really do miss Nashville!

Daniel Romano — “Impossible Green”

You know when you discover an artist and think wow, this kid’ll go far, then realize they’ve been at it for years, made tons of records, play all the instruments, write, sing and tour their ass off? That’s how it is for me with Daniel Romano. This track comes from his 2017 album Modern Pressure.

Gina Birch — I Play My Bass Loud

Gina’s debut solo album came out just a year ago — I’ve been a fan since hearing the Raincoats in the late 1970s and getting to see them live when they came to NYC back then. She’s one of my heroines for being an artist and uniquely herself in whatever it is she does — music, video, painting. The bass and her opening line: “Sometimes I wake up, and I wonder — what is my job?” Pure Gina/genius!

Wreckless Eric — Inside The Majestic

He’s my husband and labelmate so what the hell — this is from his most recent album Leisureland. People know Eric for his voice and lyrics and guitar, but this is an instrumental track that’s just glorious. I want to see the movie it soundtracks, or at very least a choreographed dance routine with Eric at the piano in a tuxedo.

Michele Stodardt — “These Bones”

A big attraction for me with the Magic Numbers was Michele Stodart’s bass playing and cool vocal contributions, love hearing and seeing her do her solo thing.

Meshell Ndgeocello — The Omnichord Real Book

For the last dozen years, I was bartending/selling books at a small shop in New York’s Hudson Valley. The first time Meshell came in I was tongue-tied, knowing her as a bass playing legend and poet, and thought if she lives here, it’s kind of the center of the universe, right? I really hope to see her play live sometime.

TBHQ — “Planet of Pain” from TBHQ

A radio host on a show I guested on was playing this great track when I walked in. “I really like that,” I thought, and then realized it was my daughter Hazel Rigby who records under the name TBHQ. She’s been performing and recording for years, often instrumental/noise but her voice and lyrics are so wise and honest.

Dory Previn — “The Comedian”

There’s never been anyone like Dory Previn, the pain and ridiculousness of being a human so acutely depicted in song. There’s a new documentary about her, On My Way To Where, by my friend Julia Greenberg with animated segments by Emily Hubley, just making its debut out there. She had a fascinating, fruitful, difficult beautifully productive life and I can’t wait to learn more about her.

Mary Timony — “Dominoes” from Untame The Tiger

Love everything about Mary Timony’s latest solo album Untame the Tiger — the songs, the guitar playing, her voice, the cover!

Swamp Dogg — “Synthetic World”

One of my favorite tracks of all time. Jerry Williams (Swamp Dogg) is still out bringing his music to the people. I’m looking forward to seeing the new documentary Swamp Dogg Gets His Pool Painted — there’s just nobody like this guy.

[crowleywowley]

hai….i’m back….here to give more modern (plus some general) hcs!! :3

⭑i like to think of john and abi as highschool sweethearts :) But they were pretty on and off, so everyone was surprised when they made it to senior prom (john wore those tuxedo t-shirts)and eventually graduation! they got pregnant with jack a few months after graduating

⭑when it’s time for spring cleaning, DUTCH IS THE LOUDEST MF IN THE HOUSE. he’s blasting the 70s music, waking up everyone in the house very loudly announcing that it’s spring cleaning day…poor hosea, john, and arthur

⭑i like to think charles makes these super pretty bracelets and sells them online :3 some of the gang members got some! they’re very meticulously crafted and he takes pride in his art!

⭑Karen is def a crazy cat lady. She has FOUR OF THEM!!! She’d give three of the cats really pretty names but let Sean name her most recent one…in which he named the poor cat “napkin” 💀

⭑Dutch and Hosea have an unreal amount of hawaiian pattern shirts..it’s crazy. hosea wears them in the spring and summer but dutch wears them year round

⭑For some reason, it’s tradition on Arthur’s birthday to go to Texas Roadhouse (I know he’d FUCK UP that bread they give as appetizers). He usually has his family, an s/o, and a couple friends there :)

⭑Speaking of fucking up rolls…I think Artie in general would just have a guilty soft spot to sweets. His s/o would come back with those rolls or just any pastry or candy and arthur will feel so special and spoiled! He’ll also do the same thing for them in return :) (Or just any kinda fave food they like)

⭑Lenny was a SUPER smart kid in school. I like to think in the modern au he just graduated outta highschool, but he got all of these scholarships and awards for being such a smart kid. He’d def major in some sort of writing or literacy thing in college

⭑Sadie can and will destroy anyone at those bull riding things at restaurants. she’s got a plaque of her name on it at a restaurant she won at!

⭑This is more of a general one, but seeing Arthur and John compared to eachother is so funny…Arthur is like this big bear while John is skinny and dorito shaped

⭑It’s also funny seeing the heights of the vandermatthews (name still in progress) family. From shortest to tallest it goes Dutch (5’8”…short dutch all the way), Hosea (5’10”), John (5’11”), and Arthur (6’2”)

⭑One time John borrowed Dutch’s laptop and clicked on a weird website, giving the laptop a virus. John was grounded for a few days and Arthur didn’t stop teasing him about it

OKAY!!! that’s all i have rn ^^ i think i might be saying too many hcs but i love making them…they’re too fun!! (sorry for showing my arthur favoritism again sighhhh 😭😭)

So sorry it took me several days to get to this, real life has had me busy 😔 but I’m here now and EEEEEEEE so fun and silly!!!!

-I’ve also always seen John and Abi as a high school sweethearts type of thing, I think they broke up and got back together so many times in that immature high school way until like senior year when they just stayed together

-Dutch is that one vine where the guy was dancing to Morning Train by Sheena Easton

-crying real tears rn imagining Charles crafting stuff for his pals🥹🥹🥹🥹 I could see him eventually getting into bigger crafts too

-Listen I’m gonna defend Sean bc I just KNOW that napkin the cat fits her namesake so well. It’s one of those skrunkly white kittens

-Arthur having a sweet tooth is canon in my heart sorry ladies, I think he’d enjoy baking goodies for his friends/partners bc he’s suchhhhh an acts of service/gift giver love language kinda guy

-I think Lenny was just one of those kids in high school that everyone loved. He was nice to everyone and genuinely really smart, sorry haters but he definitely got voted prom king or something. As he should!!!!!!

-Sadie drives a cool truck but not in a douchebag way, like that woman is hauling shit AROUND!!!!!!!!

These are all so fun and so silly! It’s been a rough week so I genuinely enjoyed getting to read these :) yall please never hesitate to blow up my inbox with thoughts like these!!

[devnmon]

A Little Twisted

Summary: The Winchester's take a case you've put the file together for, and despite the opinion of your mother, Ellen Harvelle, you chase their tail to help them on the hunt. [Based on 2.06 of SPN, aka No Exit.]

Word count: 3.8k

A/n: Listen I know we all love Jo but wouldn't it be fun to imagine us in her place instead? Clearly under the gaze of Dean Winchester, as well?? I've got just the fic for you :] (also this is just a little fic I finished and wanted to post as a way to clean up my wips. I'm still on hiatus, but I hope you all take this as a little parting gift. love u all <3)

You’d spent the morning arguing with your mother, Ellen Harvelle, over whether or not you were “allowed” to leave the roadhouse and go out on your own to hunt. You for one, were fed up with her obvious disregard for how old you actually were, 21 years old, a grown woman. You should be able to go out on your own, especially for something like this. The disagreement quickly turned to a yelling match between the two of you, throat burning as you continue to defend yourself.

“You can’t keep me here!”

“Oh don’t you bet on that, sweetie.”

You bet on a lot of things in life, but this you were sure you knew you wanted- this you were sure you needed.

“What are you gonna do? Are you gonna chain me up in the basement?”

“You know what? You’ve had worse ideas than that recently. Hey, you don’t wanna stay? Don’t stay. Go back to school!”

School. College. The place every single person side eyed you for your interests and style of clothing. You couldn't go back. Not after almost making a stab victim out of a man who'd been harassing you nonstop. To prevent being suspended or worse, you dropped out.

“I didn’t belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!”

She didn't understand. She would never understand.

“Yeah but getting yourself killed on some dusty backroad- that’s where you belong?!”

It was then your eyes faltered from your mother’s expression to the two men that had walked into their bar. It seemed the tension finally broke as she whipped her head around at them. The Winchesters.

“Guys, bad time.”

"Yes ma'am." Sam took the tension in the room as a sign, considering they had walked in on an argument, ones you assumed they'd had multiple times with each other.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before 10, anyway." Dean followed, not wanting to agitate your mother any more than you already had.

The Winchesters just happened to butt into the argument at the most convenient time for you. Dean and Sam’s rushed apology for interrupting sends them turning toward the door again, until you catch their attention.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this.” Huffing, you walk over to the countertop with the file thrown on top of it.

“I don’t care what they think!” She retorted once again, wanting to keep it between you two.

They’re both staring awkwardly before the roadhouse phone rings, making you glare at it, the ringing repeating before your mother paused the argument to answer it.

Dean and Sam stayed out of the disagreement in fear of what your mother would say or do to them if they’d intervened.

But, with her back turned, you quickly grabbed the case file off the bartop and approached the brothers.

“Three weeks ago a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.”

Silence rang out as Dean just stared at you, holding the file out for him to grab.

“Take it, it won’t bite.” You said sarcastically, lifting it up to his face.

“No, but your mom might.” You tilted your head at Dean, knowing he couldn’t say no to you.

The green-eyed man's eyebrows dropped from their raised position as he finally grabbed the file from your hands. Relief washed over you in watching the brothers peek through the file.

“And this girl wasn’t the first. Over the past 80 years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes.”

You explained the details of the case in more detail, glancing from Sam to Dean to see how they reacted to the information. You picked up on Sam’s genuine interest in it, while Dean only looked it over plainly until you finished going on about it.

“It only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we’re either dealing with one very old serial killer or-“

Dean finally spoke.

“Who put this together? Ash?”

As if he thought a woman couldn't put a silly little case file together.

“I did it myself.” You admitted, proudly, noticing Dean’s face falter with what looked like genuine surprise.

He glanced between your face beaming with pride, and the file in his hands. Dean wouldn't admit it, but he was impressed with your extensive knowledge on the case, only giving you a look.

“Huh.”

“I gotta admit, we’ve hit the road for a lot less.” Sam spoke up again.

The sound of the phone being hung up was the last thing you heard before your mother spoke again.

“Good. If you like the case so much, you take it.” Ellen's voice sounded out again, having ended the phone call abruptly.

Turning to your mother again with more annoyance this time, your scowl intensified.

“Mom.”

Another desperate plea for you mother to treat you like the adult you factually were. Didn't matter if she didn't think you could do it, you believed in yourself enough for the both of them.

“Sweetheart, this family has lost enough. I won’t lose you too. I just won’t.”

With that, the brothers took the case file with them and drove off. As they'd hit the road, your plan to catch up with them wasn’t far behind.

You’d been eager to join the Winchesters for this specific hunt, one you put the case file together for. It was easier to let your mother cool off for a while, before even attempting to talk to her again.

You had fibbed to the hawk-like supervision of her that night by letting her know you’d gone to Vegas, far after the brothers had left. It was only a diversion from where you were really going, roping Ash into laying a credit card trail all the way to Nevada, after threatening him to keep your plans to himself.

You drove all the way to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, showing up to the apartment building Dean and Sam had already been looking around in.

“You did a really good job with this place,” your voice echoed down the hallway, in conversation with the landlord of the building.

Imagine your surprise when the slight turn of your head from down the hallway brought Sam and Dean into your view.

“The hell are you doing here?” Dean muttered, an idea for cover popping into your head.

Your eyes brightened up as you saw him, in a way that made Dean question what the hell you were doing, until you spoke.

“There you are, honey. This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his buddy Sam.”

Boyfriend? Dean thought.

“Good to meet you.” Dean shook the man’s hand, wanting to play along with your facade before actually asking you what was up.

”Quite a gal you got here.” The landlord replied, standing opposite the three of you now.

“Oh yeah, she’s a pistol!” Dean choked out, grabbing your waist quite tightly. His grip only tightened around you, relishing in the feeling of the older Winchester's hand a little too much for a split second.

“So, did you already check out the apartment? The one for rent?” You said, another fake laugh getting choked out.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Great flow.”

Smooth, Winchester…

“How'd you get in?” The landlord questioned.

“It was open.”

Dean’s so good at covering his ass, it almost made you blush.

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Dean spoke again, still playing along with your rouse.

“About a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stiffed me for the rent.”

“Well, her loss, our gain. ‘Cause if Dean-o loves it, it’s good enough for me.” The fake smile you’d been putting on was starting to pain your cheeks, secretly hoping this more than awkward conversation would come to an end soon enough.

“Oh sweetie..” Dean jolted your body closer to him with his arm once again, aggravated at how you managed to lie to your mother and make it out here, not to mention put up such a convincing fib to the landlord's face.

“We’ll take it.” You stated, handing him the wad of cash in your purse.

“Ah. Okay.” The man took the money from you, in awe of it as he walked you to the apartment and handed you the key.

Time passed, and the brothers had been loading their guns on the table in the middle of the apartment, your hand shuffling through your bag for something as you looked over to the older Winchester.

“I’ll flip you for the sofa," you spoke, pulling your knife out of the bag.

“Does your mother even know you’re here?” Dean's tone held hints of annoyance, but you knew he was glad to see you. Even if he didn't show it.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

“You think she’s gonna buy that?”

Dean knew your mother, Ellen wasn't shy of stupid, by a long shot. He knew if he didn't give you up, your mother would have him by the balls otherwise.

“I’m not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.” You smirked, proud of yourself but still feeling like Dean was upset with you.

“You know, you shouldn’t lie to your mom. You shouldn't be here, either.”

You glance over to Sam, who’s inspecting the gun in his hand with a different look on his face.

“Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“Where’d you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam spoke for the first time since your back and forth with Dean.

“Working, at the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well.” Dean started again.

“Well, they aren’t that good at poker, either.”

You had the skill to hustle other hunters in poker? You? A Harvelle? And Dean hadn’t found this out till now?

Silence fills the air as Dean’s cell starts to ring, picking it up and pausing his bickering.

You continued looking through your bag for your knife, until Dean answered the phone. Pausing, you listened in to Dean’s conversation.

If that’s my mother…

“Yeah? Oh hi, Ellen.”

Shit.

You swiftly walked towards Dean, frantically whisper yelling in his face, your mother on the other side of the phone call.

Your voices overlapped in chaotic whispers as Dean hesitated telling your mother you’d lied to her.

“Don’t you tell her. I’ll kill you if you do. Don’t you do it.”

“Oh, I’m telling her. You’re not even supposed to be here-”

And then with some will-power he still had, Dean decided to keep your secret.

“I haven’t seen her. Yeah, I’m- I’m sure. Absolutely.”

The annoyed look on Dean’s face as he hung the phone up only made you grin from ear to ear.

The three of you sat in the middle of the apartment still, flipping the knife in your hand, as you went over the history of the building to rule out any causes of of these women going missing.

“Would you sit down please?” You said to the older, broad-shouldered Winchester. Dean was pacing behind you, inducing your worry about the case further. He only shared a look with you, before sitting down and continuing on about different reports and evidence of past cases.

“So, have you checked the police reports, uh, county death records…”

You knew the older Winchester had a problem with you showing up while him and Sam were on this hunt. Though, you were the one that gave them the case, to begin with. You spent ten more minutes trying to convince Dean that you knew what you were doing on this hunt. The sources you referenced, spewing out of your brain one after another in an attempt to show them both how serious you were taking this.

It seemed like no matter how much you proved yourself to Dean, he always shot back with another point as to why you shouldn't be there.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing."

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.” You continued flipping the blade in your hand until Dean said, “Would you put the knife down?”

You placed the knife on the table with a smug look on your face.

“Okay. So, uh, it’s something else then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.” Sam spoke, trying to move their investigation along to find out more about what it is they’re hunting.

“We gotta scan the whole building, everywhere we can get to, right?” It was the fastest way to find a possible lead.

“Right. So, you and me will take the top two floors.” Dean butted in, standing up from his chair.

“We’d move faster if we split up.” You also rose from where you sat, only wanting to move the investigation along quicker.

“Oh, this isn’t negotiable.” The look on Dean’s face said he didn't want to argue anymore and that you’d just have to face the fact that he'd be accompanying you.

“Fine.”

The two of you made it to the top floor of the apartment complex, EMF detectors in hand as you began roaming the hallways side by side. Truth was you enjoyed Dean’s presence, when he wasn’t being a complete ass. You could sense a spark between the two of you, but you'd just have to wait for the right moment to make your move on it.

Plus it was fun to tease him about it in the meantime.

“So, you gonna buy me dinner?”

Dean glanced over to you, then back to his EMF detector while scanning the apartment hallway.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s just- if you’re gonna ride me this close, it’s only decent you buy me dinner.”

You were only half joking with him, though the idea of a date with Dean Winchester wasn’t completely terrible sounding. You knew your presence didn’t bother him as much as he’d let on to.

The first time he saw you working around the roadhouse, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

The obvious spark between you and Dean only burned brighter every time you were around him, tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

“Oh, that’s hilarious. You know it’s bad enough I lied to your mom, but if you think I’m letting you out of my sight- I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re kind of the spirits type.”

“Exactly.”

That was the moment Dean realized why you were so avid about this hunt.

“You want to be bait?”

“Quickest way to draw it out and you know it.”

Dean only chuckled in response.

“What?”

“I’m so regretting this.” Dean’s tone was more aggravated now, like he had realized something that put you at risk.

Pausing, you decide that Dean’s attitude wasn’t something you wanted to deal with anymore.

“You know, I've had it up to here with your crap.”

He turned to you, somewhat taken back by what you’d just admitted to him.

“Excuse me?”

“Your chauvinist crap. You think women can’t do the job.”

That was the moment Dean had it with you. There was no way to express that he didn't want you putting yourself in danger without expressing how he felt about you, but he also knew you hadn't been hunting before, even if you put together a convincing case file.

“Sweetheart, this ain’t gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can’t. You got no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barfly has put in your head.”

“And now, you sound like my mother.”

“Oh, and that’s a bad thing? Because let me tell you-“

“What?” you shook your head at Dean’s hesitation with answering you and finishing his sentence.

“Forget it.”

“No, you started this.”

“Y/n, you got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young, I wish I could do something else.”

“You love the job.”

“Yeah, but I’m a little twisted.”

“You don’t think I’m a little twisted, too?”

“You’ve got a mother that worries about you. Who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don’t throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later.”

Dean started to walk away from you, until your hand pulls on his jacket, turning back to you.

“Dean, wait.”

“What?”

You paused, wanting to hold a serious conversation with Dean, the look on your face making him turn back fully and focus on you.

Shooting him a pointed look, you took a deep breath.

"Look, if you wanna hate me for lying to my mom or whatever, then fine. But let's realize that we're both here for the same reason: to hunt and kill whatever's in this building. I think it's cute and all that you want what's best for me, wanna protect me from whatever evil the world has to offer, but you're not taking me from this hunt. Not when I'm the one that put the damn case file together in the first place." Your finger poked Dean's chest argumentatively, swallowing down the realization of how firm it was under your touch.

Dean clenched his jaw awkwardly, noticing how your eyes shifted down from his to glance at his lips for a split second.

Or maybe he was imagining it, too caught up in your heated argument to notice. There had always been something between you and Dean, something too low to notice at first.

But where there was a spark, there was a flame.

"Are you gonna say anything? Or just let me talk my head off?" You shook your head as the older Winchester stayed silent, noticing his gaze shoot across your soft features ever so slightly.

"I-" He started to speak, but got cut off with your impatient tone.

"No. You know what? I'm done trying to tell you why I'm here. Do what you want, hate me if you want.. I don't care-"

Dean's lips were the only thing you felt before freezing in your stance for a slight moment at the contact.

It wasn't unwelcome, just unexpected.

Half a second passed before your lips melded with his, plump and soft against yours. His kiss softened, palm cupping your cheek now. The moment had stopped time, his lips against yours consuming all the thoughts and worries from the hunt washing away.

You swore you heard a groan from him as your hand pressed against his chest. It was only a moment later before Dean pulled away, looking down at you in a different way now.

The pink of Dean's tongue poked out to wet his lips, an action you couldn't help yourself from gawking at, before he decided to speak.

"I'm never gonna hate you. Matter of fact, that's the last thing I feel, sweetheart." The boyish chuckle that filled your ears only gravitated you towards him even more.

"Dean..." You breathed, noticing how the blush in his cheeks reddened when you spoke his name.

"No, look. I don't want you to put yourself in danger for the sake of the case, it ain't right." You pouted at his words, in which he held up a hand to halt you from saying anything, "But, if you think you're up for it, then I'm not gonna stand in your way. I just- your mom is gonna have my ass if something happens to you."

You shake your head vigorously, meeting the compassionate look in Dean's eyes with your own. "As much as you'd like to protect me, there's only so much you can do. If we're gonna finish this hunt, we have to take risks. I promise you I'll be fine. No matter what happens. Okay?"

Dean listened intently to every word you said, with a hint of worry and skepticism in his eyes. He knew you could handle yourself, you were a Harvelle, of course. But he would be damned if he didn't worry a shit ton about the beautiful woman in front of him. He'd already swore to himself that he would keep you safe, no matter what, and do anything and everything it took in order to return you back to the safety of your bed at night.

With a small nod, Dean's pretty green eyes lit up with hope.

"Dammit," Dean swore, lifting his head to you, "I swear to god if you aren't careful-"

"When am I not?" Your hands grabbed at his red shirt, rubbing up and down his chest ever so slightly, eyes flicking between his and his lips that sat perfectly under his nose.

"Just don't get reckless. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Couldn't live with myself if I got you killed or worse before I even got the chance to-" He trailed off, thoughts running ramped behind that perfect head of his.

"Before what?" Tilting your head to the side, curious at what the Winchester suggested. It was Dean's turn to flick his eyes between yours and the soft lips he'd pressed against his just a moment before.

"Before... I did this," Dean's hands surrounded your waist, pulling you against his chest, close enough to feel his breath on your cheek, "And this.." he pressed his lips to your neck, tipping your chin up for more access to your skin, licking your skin ever so slightly with his tongue. It pulled a gasp from you, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

"Dean..." His name whimpered from your lips due to his mouth paying attention to a particular spot on the skin of your neck, "Kiss me again."

Your boldness pulled him from your neck, lust-blown eyes meeting yours again as that cheeky but sexy smile grew across his face.

"Gladly." One of his hands cupped your jaw, pressing his lips to yours again. The feeling stirred in your gut as his kisses filled you with enamor, one you didn't know was there until you pressed your lips further against his own. His fingers against your skin had goosebumps spreading across your skin like a wave.

"Now you really have to buy me that dinner..." you chuckled, Dean humming against your skin.

"Mmm... you're right. What kind of a man would I be if I didn't? Especially after kissing you in this hallway like a couple of teenagers.." Dean pulled away from your face, placing another kiss on your cheek. His palm cupped the same cheek he'd just kissed, the heat of your skin warming his hand.

"We will get through this hunt. And when it's over... it better be a damn good dinner."

You smiled at the green-eyed man before you, and when his eyes met yours, he smirked and nodded again.

"You bet it's gonna be. I am the classy type."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

As much as you wanted to stay pressed up against the older Winchester, making out like teenagers at a high school party, you pushed his chest off you and continued down the corridor in search of evidence.

---------------------------------------

[womenloverlmao]

SPVTW Characters x Chubby Reader Headcanons

Listen I know this is weird leave me tf alone

This is gender neutral except for the specific headcanons where obviously not

ALSO NOTE I ONLY WATCH THE MOVIE.

Kim

-She never says anything about it. She doesn't care what you look like as long as you're happy and healthy.

-However, you're her pillow. She’s secretly a cuddlebug, and will randomly lay on you and shit. She doesn't say anything either. She just comes over and does that.

-If you're a human with boobs? She’ll lay on ‘em. Thats in private, though.

-You're insecure about it? Shes kind of blunt, saying she likes this. She likes the way you are. She does her best to help.

Knives

-She was a little rude at first without even realizing it, but when she realized it was making you insecure she felt awful and never did it again.

-She never says a word about it again, unless you're insecure in which case she's like ‘But you're so pretty?’ She's so confused.

-I don't know what else to add but if you ever give her a jacket or something she will brag to everyone about how it's from her S/O.

Neil

-You're insecure? Fuck that, he doesn't let you.

-Constantly telling you how good you look. All of that.

-Makes sure you know just how much he loves you, especially when he knows you don't feel too good about yourself.

-He's a golden retriever kind of loverboy, he would be like that anyways but still.

Ramona

-Doesn't care, you can have any physical form youve seen her type.

-She just treats it like everyone else.

-you’re insecure? ‘You’re great, y/n. Seriously.’

Roxy

-more to love on. seriously.

-TEXAS ROADHOUSE ROLLS??? FUCK YEA.

-you legally can’t be insecure about your body in front of her.

-if you’re a woman and you try on more skimpy clothes and you’re not sure if you like it?? SHES ALL OVER YOU. Biggest supporter ever.

Scott

-if you’re a human with boobs he’s staring at those awkwardly.

-a human who has a booty? Eyes on that. Awkwardly.

-he’s not so subtle

-doesn’t care though. But he’s looking.

-doesn’t exactly know how to comfort you if you’re upset about your body though.

-he tries his best he’s just awkward guys

Stacey

-thinks you look great, always tells you that.

-if someone is rude to you for it? She’ll say something. To you? To them? To Wallace for fucks sake? Who knows.

-she’s actually super comforting, when you’re insecure, if you’re upset, she’s there for you.

Wallace

-bro doesn’t give a shit.

-you become his pillow sometimes. Very rarely. But still. He’s not the most physical.

-very comforting though he’s got a maternal vibe.

-also he’s part of the reason bro feeds you well. I’m sorry but it’s true.

[metalmonki]

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 2

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

4.5k word count

Summary After completely ignoring Deans warning you find yourself reunited with the Winchesters after a perplexing case brings them back down under.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Warnings mention and description of death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It's been a year since I met the Winchesters. I tried to return to my old life, but the knowledge that there were creatures out there that could kill me at any moment made it impossible to concentrate. So, I decided to hit the road. I packed my most important belongings into my car and left everything else at my mom's. I dropped out of university and began searching for other hunters. The Winchesters didn’t leave me a how-to guide on hunting monsters, so I had to figure it out on my own. I traveled far and wide, leaving messages for hunters wherever I could—monster books in libraries, notice boards, online chat rooms, you name it. After two months of relentless searching, I was finally contacted by a guy named Johnny. Johnny owned a roadhouse near Broken Hill, one of the few hubs for hunters. He gave me a list of known hunters' hubs, a list of essential tools, and a job to get me started. "An easy find and burn," he said. He advised me to call him for jobs for now and assured me that I would gradually learn how to find my own hunts. And that's how I ended up on the job I'm working today.

I had driven through the night to get back to Sydney, to the suburb of Blacktown where my story began. It was the first time I'd been back since everything that happened with the boys. This time, a similar case had brought me back: a ghost causing accidents at the local pool, leading to 11 deaths so far. Something needed to be done soon. The latest incident occurred just a week before. A paraplegic kid had seemingly stood up from her wheelchair, climbed onto a diving board, and dove headfirst onto the cement below. The ghost was escalating its attacks, putting this case at the top of my list. Before tackling the case, though, I needed to rest. I decided to book into a hotel, take a hot shower, eat, and sleep. I had only enough money for one night, so I found a cheap hotel close to the pool with vacancies and pulled in. As I parked and hopped out of my car, a certain vehicle caught my eye. Everything else was quickly forgotten as I ran to the room the car was parked in front of. I stopped to catch my breath before knocking on the door.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Dean said, crossing his arms with a smirk as he opened the door.

"Hey, Dean," I smiled.

"Y/N, is that you?" Sam asked, appearing behind Dean.

"In the flesh," I replied. "What brings you two back to town?"

"We're working this case," Dean explained. "A friend of ours called after getting a tip from a hunter here—some ghost killing a bunch of people at a pool."

"What a coincidence. I'm working that case too. It's been on my radar for the last three months, but it's really ramped up in the last month, so I figured I should probably get my ass back here and take care of it."

"I thought I told you to stay away from all this," Dean suddenly snapped, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I tried, Dean. I really did. But I couldn't shake it. I was second-guessing everything and everyone, and I felt like I needed to do this to feel safe," I said, recoiling at his words.

"I told you there were other people like us doing this job so you could be safe. Trust me, this isn't the life you want."

"You packed up and went back to the States. You left me here where there are barely any hunters. What did you expect me to do?" I snapped back.

"I expected you to listen to me!" Dean yelled, jabbing a finger toward the ground.

I flinched away from Dean, and he immediately noticed. The regret on his face was clear. He tried reaching out to touch my arm, but I moved back. Sighing, he stepped aside, allowing me into the room. Sam motioned for me to come over to the sole table where he was working on his laptop. Dean, meanwhile, moved to sit on his bed on the opposite side of the room. Sam ran me through everything they had found so far. He mentioned a friend of theirs named Bobby, who had been contacted by a local hunter overwhelmed by the case. It was something I had noticed too, and it had only motivated me more to become a hunter. Over the past year, I had been taking on the harder cases that other hunters struggled with. I had made contacts at all the hunters’ roadhouses in Australia and had hardly had a day to myself since. I told Sam about Johnny, a name he instantly recognized. Apparently, Johnny had been the one to call Bobby, requesting the boys' help after many other hunters had come up short.

"What have you found so far?" I asked Sam.

"Well, the earliest accident recorded at the pool was two months after it opened," Sam replied.

"I found that too during my initial research. She was running, slipped on the wet floor, and got impaled on a sign pole. Not a nice way to go, but it doesn't seem like something to create a vengeful spirit," I said.

"My thoughts exactly," Sam sighed. "But I can't find anything about the place being built on a burial ground or sacred site or anything."

"So, what you're saying is there's no reason for these deaths to be ramping up at this joint?" Dean finally joined the conversation.

"Well, none we can find," I said. "This is why I've avoided the case for so long. Every time I've looked into it, I haven't been able to find a reason. Nothing I know of could be causing this, nothing Johnny knows of could be causing this. Maybe Bobby might know something?"

"I'll call him," Sam sighed.

Sam grabbed his phone and left the room. I looked at Dean in confusion. We were working this case together, so why would Sam leave? Dean mumbled something about Sam thinking best when he was walking around. I just shrugged and stayed at the table, waiting for Sam to come back. Dean and I fell into an uncomfortable silence. I knew he wasn't happy with me being here and giving everything up to become a hunter, but I didn’t see any other choice. I understood the dangers; I knew a hunter's life was often short. But if it meant making a difference while I was still here, then so be it. Dean needed to understand this.

"Dean..."

"Save it. I know I won't be able to change your mind, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you leave my side," Dean said, looking over at me. "I wanted to save you from this life. I wanted you to walk away and never look back. I don't want you to end up broken like me."

"It's not like I have anything to lose. My father abandoned me, my mother and I barely talk, and I don’t exactly have any other family. Just friends, and as far as they know, I came into a small fortune and I'm off traveling the world," I sighed.

"Sounds like every hunter origin story I've heard before," Dean chuckled coldly.

"Why? What's your story?" I asked.

"Mum died, Dad abandoned us, then he died. I'm one of the lucky ones, though, because I got Sammy. And I guess now I have your dumbass to look out for too," Dean smiled at me.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," I laughed.

"Oh, it is. You're a pain in my ass," Dean laughed too.

"Who, me? Nah, I'm delightful."

Sam walked back into the room, greeted by the sight of Dean and me laughing our asses off, a stark contrast to how he had left us. He looked between us before awkwardly starting to explain that Bobby would investigate the situation, contact some other hunters in the area, and call Sam back if he found anything. Until then, Dean decided it would be best if we grabbed some food and called it a night. Dean left Sam and me to clean up the table while he went to get what he called the world’s smallest McDonald’s burgers. Sam and I just shook our heads at him and continued to tidy up. We talked about what the guys had been up to since they were last here and everything I had done. Sam was quite impressed at how quickly I had learned to spot signs of the supernatural and my ability to research and handle problems. It turned out they had heard from Bobby about a badass new hunter on the scene out here, but they had no clue it was me. It didn’t take us long to clean off the table, and soon Dean returned with the food. He dumped the bags on the table and began tossing burgers at each of us, cursing when he reached for the fries and found they had all fallen out in the bag. Sam and I shook our heads at Dean and started on our burgers while he fixed the fries. After we had eaten, we all agreed to get some sleep while waiting for Bobby to get back to us. Sam went off to shower first while Dean kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. I, on the other hand, moved toward the door, planning to book my room for the night.

"Where are you staying?" Dean suddenly asked, stopping me in my tracks.

"Going to book a room for tonight, then probably sleep in my car until this is over. Why?" I turned back towards Dean.

"You can't be serious."

"Well, normally I'd loo or a free campground, but we're in the middle of a city. Luckily, I recently found this really cool inflatable bed thing. You move the seats forward, put it in the back seat, and it acts like a real bed. It's actually pretty comfortable," I rambled.

"Like hell you're sleeping in your car. Take my bed, and I'll take the couch," Dean grumbled, getting up from his bed. "Besides, it saves you the money you'd spend on a room for a single night."

"Dean, I can't kick you to the lounge again," I sighed.

"Nonsense. Hunters need a safe place to sleep."

"We don’t exactly get paid, Dean. I do odd jobs in the towns I’m in between or sometimes even during hunts, just to get enough to eat and to put fuel in my car. I can’t afford a hotel room."

"And that’s where credit card scams come in," Dean smirked.

"How? I mean, you’d need fake IDs and birth certificates, not to mention the limits. Eventually, they’d cut the card off."

"Bobby hooks us up with a whole host of fake IDs—cops, FBI, CIA, you name it. The trick with credit cards is to get the card with the highest limit. For instance, a card with a $10,000 limit before repayments are needed. Use it for the case, and before you get out of dodge, withdraw the remaining amount. That way, when they come looking for Mr. Hector Rodriguez, it looks like he never left town."

"Jesus, Dean, that’s insane."

"That’s the life," Dean shrugged, making himself comfy on the lounge.

I took off my shoes and made myself comfortable on the bed while waiting for Sam to finish with the shower. I had planned to use the bathroom to change, but I must have been more tired than I realized because I nodded off. I woke up the next morning to an empty room and noticed that Dean’s Impala was gone too. They must have heard back from Bobby and headed off to chase a lead. It kind of sucked that they didn’t wake me up first, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mostly for background noise, before heading to my car to grab a change of clothes. With clothes in hand, I went to the bathroom for a shower. I always found that the shower was the best place to organize my day. I turned the water on, cranking up the heat until it was almost unbearable. As the shower screen fogged up, I began to write out my plan for the day. First, I needed to find some breakfast, then I needed to locate the guys. The problem was, I didn’t have either of their numbers and wasn’t keen on driving aimlessly around the city to find them. After washing up, I begrudgingly turned off the water. As I reached for a towel, I was horrified to realize there were only two towels in the bathroom. I rummaged through the room but found no additional towels. I returned to the bathroom, eyeing the two towels on the rack. At this point, I was almost dry, so I grabbed the obviously unused towel and quickly dried myself off, hanging the towel back as neatly as possible when I was done. Once I was dressed and dry, I grabbed my phone and keys before heading out to my car. I was honestly surprised that Dean had managed to pick out which car was his and which was mine. The engine roared to life as I settled into the driver's seat. I drove to McDonald's to grab a breakfast deal. After I got my food, I figured I might as well continue investigating the case on my own. As I waited in the drive-through, I pulled out my phone to continue my research. It was then that I noticed a text message from Dean, which caught me off guard since I hadn’t saved his number.

Hey sleeping beauty, when you get this, give me a call. If I don’t answer, I put Sammy’s number in your phone too.

I chuckled to myself before dialing the number. After a few rings, Dean picked up.

"Hey, enjoy your sleep?" Dean laughed.

"It was great, thank you. Your bed is very comfy."

"At least someone’s enjoying my bed," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, you should really try it sometime. It's so comfy and warm, it would put you straight to sleep," I taunted.

"Pfft, who needs an awesome bed when they have a perfect lounge to sleep on?"

"Where are you anyway?" I laughed on the phone.

"About to head to the pool," Dean sighed. "We’ve exhausted the library. They have nothing on the pool that we didn’t already know, so the only place left is the pool."

"Have fun with that. I’m just getting breakfast. Oh, and here it comes!" I squealed, winding down the window.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff your face then get your ass over here," Dean chuckled, hanging up.

I took my food with a thank you before pulling into the parking lot. After parking my car, I started on my breakfast. It didn’t take me long to finish, and I tossed my rubbish into a nearby bin before heading to the pool. When I arrived, I parked towards the back of the lot and went inside. It annoyed me more than it should have that I had to pay to enter the pool, even though I had no intention of swimming. It felt weird paying just to watch, but being on my own, it seemed the only option. I walked down the ramp into the main pool area, which featured a wave pool, a splash pool, and two 25-meter pools. It wasn’t overly busy, so it didn’t take more than a quick glance to spot Sam and Dean. It also helped that they were the only people in the building in suits. They were standing near the wave pool controls, talking to a lifeguard. As I started making my way towards them, I was suddenly halted by the sound of a giggle. It was a giggle I would recognize anywhere, sending an ice-cold shiver down my spine. I almost turned around and fled back to my car, intending to wait for Sam and Dean to finish. The only thing that stopped me was Dean spotting me and giving me a wink, which caused the lifeguard to look over her shoulder towards me. I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and walked over to them. Upon reaching them, however, my mouth started spilling out words before my brain could catch up.

"Hey, babe," I said, leaning against Dean's side. "I thought I’d come for a swim while you take care of things, but I don’t have any swimwear." I winced inwardly at the cringe-worthy line.

"Oh, hi Rachel! Haven’t seen you since graduation. Still lifeguarding, I see?" I greeted, trying to mask my awkwardness.

"Y/N, yes, I am. It pays quite well. How did you end up with such a handsome man?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms and giving me a disapproving look.

"Well, as you probably heard, I’ve been traveling the world, and during a trip through America, I found this handsome man," I said, smiling up at Dean.

"Lucky you," Rachel scoffed.

"Yeah, lucky me," I replied, still smiling at Dean.

"Anyway, baby, here’s my card. Go get yourself some swimwear and have a good time," Dean said, handing me a card.

"Thank you," I said, taking the card and giving Dean a quick peck on the cheek before darting off.

As I was leaving, I heard Dean say, "Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask all the staff about the incident."

I went to the main counter and bought a swimsuit—one of the things I had left behind when I packed up and left, thinking I’d never use it again. With the swimsuit in hand, I headed back to find Sam and Dean to return Dean's card, thank him for his help, and apologize for putting him on the spot. As I wandered back into the main pool area, I quickly spotted Dean standing at the edge of the splash pool, talking to a lifeguard. Just as I was about to approach him, a hand suddenly came down on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around, ready to punch whoever had touched me.

"Wow, easy there," Sam chuckled.

"Sam, why would you do that?" I slapped him on the chest.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. Just figured I should fill you in before you blow our cover story any further."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, dropping my head.

"Oh, it’s fine. No harm done," Sam smiled. "Anyway, we were researching the deaths this morning, and one of the victims was a young girl on holiday from America. So Dean and I decided to come in and ask some questions, posing as representatives from the American Embassy investigating on behalf of the parents."

"That’s actually pretty smart. I’ll go change into these swimmers and stay out of your way. Also, can you give Dean back his card?" I handed it to Sam. "I feel kinda bad for taking it."

"Well, it’s not our money anyway, so nothing to feel bad about," Sam smirked.

I laughed at Sam's comment and walked away with a wave towards the female changing room. Only two other people were in the changing room when I walked in—two young girls, probably no older than 18. It seemed they had just finished their swim and were getting ready to shower and change. I ducked into an empty changing booth on the opposite side of the room from them. They were giggling and whispering between themselves as I walked by. If only they knew what was happening here, what was happening in the world. I quickly slipped into the swimsuit—no easy feat when both you and the suit are as dry as the Sahara Desert. Just as I bundled my clothes in my arms and was about to open the door, the room was suddenly filled with a blood-curdling scream. I dropped my clothes and threw open the door. One of the girls from earlier was now pressed up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, while the other lay motionless on the floor.

I ran over to the girl on the floor and dropped down by her side, assessing her for any signs of life. She was gone; her neck was clearly broken. Standing up, I walked over to the other girl as more people began pushing their way into the bathroom. Sam and Dean were among them. Seeing the scene, they began pushing people back and asking for someone to call emergency services. I took the other girl into my arms, shielding her face from the horrific sight and encouraging her to look away. I nodded to Sam and Dean, knowing they would need to leave the building quickly but quietly while I stayed behind to answer questions. I tried to ask the girl what had happened, but all I could get was the word "why," spoken in a whisper between sobs. I just held her, rubbing circles into her back while waiting for help to arrive.

It felt like forever, but it was probably no more than 15 minutes before the police and ambulance arrived. The police stood back, allowing the paramedics to do their work. Once the paramedics confirmed there was nothing they could do for the girl on the floor, they turned their attention to her friend. They checked her over and then escorted her to a waiting ambulance. The police followed, making sure I stayed put in the room. Returning to where I had discarded my clothes, I gathered them up and sat on the bench running the length of the room. Holding my clothes to my chest, I suddenly felt naked in the now-empty room. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a dead body, and living the life I chose, I knew it wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t make it any less jarring. The absolute stillness of her body, the lack of the normal rise and fall of her chest, the absence of any movement, the fading pink hue of her skin—it was all so stark, so sudden. I closed my eyes and prayed she went quickly.

The quiet of the room was soon broken by the arrival of crime scene techs and coroners. They completely ignored my presence and went about their tasks, examining the deceased girl and the room. The only interaction I had was with a woman who came over and asked for my clothes. Confused, I asked why, since they hadn't been near the girl. She insisted it was needed just in case and that they would get them back to me as soon as possible. Reluctantly, I handed over my clothes and filled out the paperwork she provided. With no other address to use, I gave her my mother's address for the return of my clothes.

I watched as the coroner bagged the girl's body and removed it from the room while the techs continued to take pictures and discuss their theories about what had happened. Eventually, after what must have been 30 minutes, the police returned to the room to speak with me. They asked a flurry of questions that blurred together: Did you know the victim? No. Did you see what happened? No. Do you know Samantha? Was that the other girl? No. What were you doing here? Changing to swim. On and on, question after question. They questioned me for over an hour. It felt like a waste of their time, as I had nothing to offer—they were asking a witness who hadn’t witnessed anything. Before they let me go, I asked what Samantha had said about the incident. They gave me the usual response: they couldn’t divulge much but assured me that the investigation would reveal the truth.

I thanked the officers and left the room. I fell into a sort of autopilot. Before I knew it, I was out of the pool, in my car, and back at the hotel, with no recollection of the drive. I parked next to Dean’s Impala. As soon as I shut off the engine, I began to shake uncontrollably. I took a few shaky breaths, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I climbed out of the car and walked to the room door, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. When the door finally opened, it was Dean standing there.

“They took my clothes,” was all I managed to say before the weight of the day hit me. In the year I had been working cases, I had never seen a dead body or witnessed someone die. I had only read about it, keeping a safe distance from the true horrors. The only dead body I had seen before this was my grandmother’s, and I had hoped she would be the only person I would have to see die in my lifetime. Today’s events had dredged up all those memories and emotions I had tried so hard to bury.

As I broke down, Dean pulled me into the room and shut the door. He wrapped his arms around me, offering a safe, warm refuge where I could finally let my emotions flow.

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Baby (11x04)

Okay, so this is my favorite episode out of all 327 episodes of Supernatural, and here's why...

The cold open is a perfect teaser. There's no score or music playing, it's just the ambient sound of what seems to be a train passing nearby. We get all those wonderful details that were called out in Chuck's narration/monologue from Swan Song (5x22), the ashtray with the little, green, plastic soldier jammed into it, the legos in the heating vent, Sam and Dean's initials carved into the panel back by the rear window. But there's also so much broken glass and blood, and Dean unconscious and handcuffed in the backseat.

The lack of a musical score (non-diegetic sound) is actually a feature of the entire episode, the only songs heard are ones that are actually being played within the universe of the show (diegetic sound), either on Baby's radio or from nearby, as is the case, I believe, in the beginning of Act 1 where Sam joins Dean in washing Baby in the bunker's garage and Dean is listening to "The Guitar Man" by Bread. But while normally the lack of music would make it feel like something was missing, the ambient sounds in this episode are so rich and detailed, they just pop so beautifully and it adds to the feeling that you are in the car.

While the case in the episode is interesting and gives us a new kind of monster to add to the show's lore, what really makes the story great are all of the casual interactions we are given between the brothers. The quiet little glimpses of "normal" life in the Impala. The boys at ease with one another and there are lots of comfortable little moments that give a day-in-the-life quality to the episode. Sam having green smoothies in the green cooler instead of it being just stocked with beer. The great roadhouse scene that has Dean going into the bar at night and then coming back out in the morning only to happily find that Sam had hooked up with a waitress named Piper in the backseat over night. I love that they had obviously not only had sex in the backseat right in front of the bar, but had fallen asleep naked back there. But we also get, a little later in the episode, a glimpse of Sam flirting with a cashier while he's looking for old pennies and having two scenes involving a flirty, smiling Sam is a precious gift indeed. We get laughing, smiling Sam and Dean, just enjoying each other's company, such a rare treat. The episode also gives us the return of Matt Cohen playing young John Winchester, sort of, which is sweetly ominous, not a common combination. The "Winchester Hotel" scene of the boys spending the night in the car is great, giving us a heart-to-heart talk with some new background details about their lives, and an iconic shot of them laying down, Dean across the front seat and Sam across the back, that begs the obvious question of where are their lower legs and how do they fit in the, admittedly roomie, interior of the car like that?

We even get to see Baby have a little adventure away from the boys, courtesy of Jessie the valet, who picks up a friend and takes the car on a brief joyride before returning her to Dean. Piper and Jessie's presence in the car introduce props that become instrumental in the plot, an element that I love, from Piper's hairpin that allows Dean to escape the cuffs we saw him in during the cold open, to the pennies that Dean finds in Jessie's joyride friend's lost purse. If these other characters hadn't been in the car, Dean likely would have met a gruesome death, and we wouldn't have been given the phenomenal fight sequence in the car or the following Sexiest Scene Ever™️ of Jensen doing a perfect reverse 180 as Dean drives Baby away from where she'd crashed. Finally, a bloody and battered Sam is retrieved, equally beat up as Dean and the car both are, and he declares the car as home.

For having been shot entirely from within the confines of the car, as roomy as she may be, the episode never feels small or claustrophobic. We feel like we've had an adventure, been on the adventure with Sam and Dean, met some new characters that broadened the overall world of the show, while getting to touch base with old friends (Cas' phone calls are wonderfully and hilariously done). And while I do wish that we'd gotten more of these sorts of little, mundane aspects of Sam and Dean's life, this entire episode feels like a goddamn gift that was wrapped with utmost care and exquisite skill. Seriously, the cast and crew of Supernatural were/are insanely talented and Baby, directed by Thomas J. Wright, is just a masterpiece.