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doctorbitchcrxft · 5 months ago

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No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: Jo and reader are dicks to each other, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5754

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You and the Winchester boys had been hunkered down in the rooms Ellen told you about the first time she met you for a few days now. You were grateful for her generosity while you and the brothers tried to pin down your next move with the demon or another hunt, but you were going stir crazy. You sat on the hood of the Impala under the shade of a tree pouring through newspapers. Sam and Dean approached you after a few hours of you researching.

“What are you doing to my baby?” Dean asked you.

“Dee, she’s fine, we’re bonding,” you said, tapping the spot next to you on the hood. “Nothing’s dented or broken; promise.”

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

“ ‘Sides, I was getting ready to come get you anyway,” you said, hopping down. “I think I got something. Los Angeles, California.”

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

“Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult,” you smirked.

“Yeah? Girl got a name?”

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face.

“Seriously, though, it’s like all things supernatural disappeared off the face of the earth,” you continued.

Dean turned his head toward the Roadhouse at the sound of a glass breaking. “Ooh, catfight.”

You grimaced and followed the boys into the bar cautiously. Ellen and Jo were arguing loudly about Jo wanting to go off and Ellen wanting her to stay at the Roadhouse or go back to school. She stopped shouting when she noticed you. “Guys, bad time.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said. The three of you turned to leave.

Dean got one more quip in, saying, “Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway.”

“Funny, let’s go,” you deadpanned, grabbing his jacket lightly and pulling him to the door.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this,” Jo said.

At the sound of the creaking front door, you turned to see a family with two kids under three walking in wearing bright yellow “Nebraska is for Lovers” t-shirts.

Ellen continued to yell despite the customers that had entered. “I don't care what they think!”

The father of the two young kids cut Ellen off. “Are you guys open?”

Jo yelled, “No!” and her mother yelled, “Yes!”

The dad grimaced and shrank away. “We’ll just… check out the Arby’s down the road.”

The phone rang as the family left, and Ellen went to answer it. Jo turned to you and the brothers; her gaze mostly focused on Dean, per usual.

“Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” She shoved a file at Dean. Dean looked down at it strangely. “Take it, it won't bite,” she said.

“No, but your mom might,” he responded.

Jo’s lips pinched, still holding out the folder. He took it reluctantly as Jo continued explaining. “And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. 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 flipped through it and cut her off. “Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

Dean hummed, impressed, and you took the folder from him. You flipped through it, secretly hoping to find holes in it somewhere, but you couldn’t at first glance. You were impressed, too, much to your chagrin.

“I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less,” Sam added.

“Good. You like the case so much, you take it,” Ellen stated.

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't.”

Your gaze softened as you took in Ellen’s grief-stricken features. You could completely empathize with how that felt. And so, you and the brothers set off.

***

“I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case,” Sam said as the three of you stalked around the deceased’s apartment.

“I don’t,” you said. “Her mom’s only trying to protect her.”

“Exactly. Maybe she put together a good file,” Dean added, “but could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so.”

You pulled out your EMF meter and continued walking around the very nice apartment. “What I wouldn’t give to have one of these,” you muttered. “You getting anything?”

“No, not yet,” replied Sam. Just as he spoke, you heard his meter beeping. He leaned over to something in front of him, and you walked over.

“What's that?” you asked.

“What?” Dean came up behind you as Sam reached down to the lightswitch and lightly touched it.

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

Dean reached forward, too. “That's ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

You snickered. “Can we get through one hunt without a Ghostbusters reference, please?”

“Never.”

“Guys, focus, please,” Sam deadpanned. “I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.”

“Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls,” Dean said. You followed him out of the apartment and immediately had to cling to a wall to avoid being seen by the approaching voices. Your face fell when you realized one of the voices was Jo’s.

“It is so spacious.” Her voice was getting closer. “You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place.”

Dean stepped out suddenly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey,” Jo grinned, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. You could’ve killed her. “This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddies, Sam and (Y/N).”

“Good to meetcha,” the landlord said. “Quite a gal you've got here.”

Dean smacked her ass roughly, trying to convey his frustration to her. “Oh yeah, she's a pistol.”

“So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent,” Jo asked Dean.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow.”

“How'd you get in?” the landlord asked.

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Jo grinned back at the landlord.

“Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stuck me for the rent.”

“Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Dean gritted through his teeth, smacking her again.

Jo pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll take it.”

The landlord’s eyes widened, and he immediately brought you back to the front office to get a key.

***

You paced around the lovely apartment furiously at Jo re-hijacking the hunt you’d hijacked from her.

“I’ll flip you for the sofa,” she said to you.

“Does your mom even know you’re here?” you asked.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

You scoffed. “She’s not stupid, She’s not gonna buy that.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Jo challenged. “I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.”

Dean took your humorless laugh as an opportunity to jump in before you got any uglier. “You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here, either.”

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

“Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam questioned.

She gave a prideful smile. “Working. At the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well,” Dean replied.

“Well, they aren't that good at poker, either,” she smirked.

‘Take away her immaturity, inexperience, rashness, and massive crush on Dean, I probably could be friends with her,’ you thought.

Dean’s cell phone rang. “Yeah?” He answered, still glaring at Jo. “Oh, hi, Ellen.” Dean and Jo had a furious muttered argument before he said, “I haven’t seen her” back into the phone. “Yeah, I'm sure… Absolutely.” Dean hung up, and Jo grinned cheerfully.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” you hissed at Dean. “Ellen’s gonna murder us.”

“Seriously?” Jo folded her arms at you. “You’re scared of my mom?”

“No,” you spat back. “I just don’t wanna babysit the whole time I’m trying to hunt.”

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

“Me? This chick has a death wish, and I need to ‘stop it’?” you snarked. “I’m going to get some air.” You stomped out of the room, Dean trailing behind you.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” he asked.

“Away,” you snorted. “She’s pissing me off. I’m not hunting with her.”

He grabbed your arm. “I’m not happy, either, but what’s this really about?”

You felt caught. “What?”

“You heard me. What’s goin’ on? You’re normally the one who has to talk me off the ledge. Not the other way around,” he said.

You lowered your voice. “I don’t trust her,” you began. “I don’t trust her to have any of our backs. All she’s tried to do thus far is get in your pants and act like an immature brat.

"She has potential, sure, and she’s smart, but she’s not one of us. And I have no idea what her skillset is. She pointed a rifle at you one time; we’ve never seen her use one. She could be an awful shot. And she has no idea how to actually kill anything. She’s, what, twenty-one, twenty-two? She didn’t grow up hunting. She has no experience.

"She doesn’t belong here. And you not telling Ellen she’s here was a huge mistake. Because now, she’s our responsibility. And like I said, I’m not babysitting. If it’s between you or Sam, and her, I’m saving you and Sam every time.”

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

“Seriously? Did you hear anything else I said?” You crossed your arms and quirked a brow.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I did, and I agree. I’ll watch her if you’ll watch Sam, okay? No blood on your hands if something happens to her,” he replied.

You shook your head. “No, Dean, I don’t like that, either—”

Dean smirked down at you. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I don’t trust her.”

He chuckled. “I think you said that already.”

“Just—” you huffed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Dean snorted. “C’mon, it’s me we’re talking about. I’ll be fine. Will you come back and be civil now?” he asked.

“No promises.”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this, then.” He raised his pinky at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t make a pinky promise I can’t keep,” you replied.

“That’s the point. You have to, so I know you’ll be civil.” Dean looked down at you, a challenge in his eyes and a smile plastered on his face.

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

“Dean,” you groaned but locked pinkies with him nonetheless.

“See, was that so hard?” he smirked down at you.

“You can’t use my own thing against me,” you said as you headed back to the apartment. “That’s against the rules of pinky promises.”

“Oh, there’s rules now?” Dean questioned playfully.

“There are when I say there are,” you responded flippantly, opening the door to the apartment.

Jo and Sam turned to face you, and you suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable.

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

“Well, okay, then,” you mumbled, softly enough that only Dean could hear you mocking her.

Dean gave you a warning look. “(Y/N).”

“I know, I know.”

***

You sat at the table with your laptop next to Sam as Dean paced around the room. Jo had been flipping her little knife around for the last thirty minutes while she looked over the blueprints for the apartment.

“This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago,” she explained.

“Yeah? What was here before 1924?” Dean questioned.

“Nothing. Empty field.”

“So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell,” Sam added.

Jo shook her head. “I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” She looked up to Dean. “Would you sit down, please?”

Dean sat hesitantly at the head of the table, eyeing Jo guardedly. “So, have you checked police reports, county death records—”

“Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing,” she said.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Dean replied. “Could you put the knife down?”

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

Sam huffed. “Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.”

“Meh, unless somebody’s got a relic from an Egyptian tomb, I’m not sure a cursed object has the kind of spirit power necessary to make ectoplasm,” you said.

Jo completely ignored you. “Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?”

“Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors,” Dean said firmly. “Sam and (Y/N)’ll take the bottom two.”

“We'd move faster if we split up,” the blonde tried.

“Oh, this isn't negotiable,” Dean responded.

***

You and Sam returned to the room way sooner than Dean and Jo did. The two of you found nothing of particular interest, unfortunately, and opted to just sprawl out on the couch and floor watching a rerun of Seinfeld.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Sam began, “I don’t think you’re wrong about Jo. Just… tone it down a bit. My brother’s dickish enough to her.”

You sighed. “Dean made me pinky promise I would be civil, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

He scoffed. “My brother made you pinky promise?”

You giggled. “I introduced him to the concept.”

“What have you done to him?” Sam chuckled sarcastically.

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, either.”

Sam paused. “Have you… talked about it at all?”

You nodded your head from side to side as if to say, “sorta.” “I just don’t think now’s the right time. I mean, after your dad, I don’t wanna take advantage of that or him to use me as a distraction.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. But… I also don’t think Dean would use you.”

You shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” You paused. “How are you holding up, by the way? We haven’t had much of an opportunity to hang out one-on-one recently.”

“Honestly? Not great,” he sighed. “I’m scared, man. I don’t know what’s happening or how to stop it. And I think my dad died thinking I hate him.” Tears began to well in his eyes. “I never should’ve said those things to him.”

You got up from the floor and went to sit next to him. You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing firmly. “If it helps at all, I think my dad died thinking the same. And that feeling goes away after a while. I think both our dads knew that despite our many, many, many issues with each other, the bottom line is, we loved each other a lot.”

He squeezed your hand back and looked at you with sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

The door opened to reveal Dean and Jo bickering and Dean’s fist clenched around a clump of blonde hair with skin attached to it.

You giggled. “What, you hate each other that much that you ripped a piece of Jo’s hair out?”

Dean deadpanned, “No, smartass. We found this in a vent.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dean grumbled. He opened the trash can in the room and dumped it inside.

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Jo stated. “Who’s sleeping where? There’s four of us, two beds, and a couch.”

“(Y/N) and I’ll take a bed,” Dean said casually almost immediately. “Sam’ll take the other. Jo, you got the couch.”

The three of you were stunned at Dean and his adamancy.

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked.

“C’mon,” Dean said, jerking his head toward one of the rooms. He picked up your duffel bags and headed off.

You followed behind, saying “Goodnight, guys,” and shut the door behind you. You tapped the sides of your thighs with your palms as you stayed firmly planted by the door.

Dean seemed to feel a little awkward, too, and blew out a breath. “Was this… uh, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah! Yeah. Sure. Why not? We’re adults. We’re friends. We can share a bed. No big.”

He chuckled. “You sure? You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“Nervous?” you laughed awkwardly. “Why would I be nervous?” He raised a brow at you, and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ve just… I’ve never… Hunting’s lonely. Even when I did hook up, I’d leave before I fell asleep.”

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, it just… felt too intimate, I guess? And I’ve never had anybody I seriously cared about that I’d want to experience that with,” you explained, sitting on the foot of the bed and kicking off your shoes.

His voice quieted considerably. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

You nodded. He seemed to understand what that meant, though both of you refused to talk about it.

Dean showered, as did you, and then you climbed into bed next to one another. The two of you seemed to have scooted to the far edges of the bed, facing away from each other. After several minutes in silence, Dean spoke up.

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

You could feel yourself getting flustered as you shuffled over to Dean, who now laid in the center of the bed. He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, allowing you to lay on his chest. You rested your hand on his stomach, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Should’ve cleaned the pipes,” he muttered.

You scoffed. “Perv,” and moved your arm across his stomach completely. You settled into him and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.

***

The next time you awoke, you felt arms around you, and you tensed. It took you a second to remember Dean was sleeping soundly next to you. His arms held tighter when he felt you shift, and you turned your face toward his. You smiled sadly at his beautiful, peaceful face, knowing this hunt would be the only time for quite a while that you’d get to wake up to him. You closed your eyes and nuzzled back into him, only to feel him groan above you; beginning to awaken.

“Morning,” he said. His sleepy voice was incredibly attractive. His arms didn’t move from around you.

A smile spread across your face. “G’morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, actually,” he admitted. He almost looked sad and regretful as he looked down at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re confusing me again,” Dean said.

You looked away from him, understanding. Your face fell, too. “You’re confusing me, too.”

“I want to… be more to you so bad,” he began, “but I can’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired of this job, I’m tired of dealing with my dad, I’m tired of… all of it.”

“I know,” you said. “So, what do you want us to do? Do you— Do you want me to leave?”

“No, god, no,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what I want.”

You snorted. “Well, what is it you don’t want? Why don’t we start there?”

He considered for a moment. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

He sighed. “I don’t wanna name and claim anything right now. I don’t wanna be just your best friend, but I also— I don’t think I can—” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to give you what I want to give you right now. I can’t be what you deserve.”

“Dean,” you said. “This is a very low-pressure situation. I know you and I can’t go there right now. I know that. And… I want to, too. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about… anybody else.” You swallowed tensely, not sure if you’d said too much. “I— I want you to heal. And I know you’re tired. And I know it’s awful. And I hope that one day, I can make things better for you. But I also know that you have to fix you first. But until then, we can just be us. I won’t initiate anything. I need you to come to me when you’re ready. And until then, we’ll just be you and me.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

After you and Dean talked things over a bit, you learned from Sam that another girl had died. Dean was off to investigate the room while you, Sam, and Jo researched. Jo wouldn’t look at you with anything but disgust after you spent the night with Dean. Her schoolgirl-ish crush was beginning to really just annoy you more than make you jealous.

Dean burst through the door. “Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

“Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too.”

“Well, between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls,” Sam added.

“But who is it? Building's history is totally clean,” Dean reminded you.

There were various pictures and blueprints from Jo’s file spread across the table between you, Sam, and Jo. You picked up a picture of the field where the apartments now stood. Next to it was a building with bars on its windows. “Check this out. We’re next door to a prison.”

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned.

Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Ash—”

“No,” you shook your head, standing. “Let me figure this one out. Something about this is sounding really familiar to me, and it’s gonna bother me if I’m not the one to nail it down.”

“And what a shame that would be,” Jo snarked.

You glared at her as you continued to pace around the room. “Blonde hair, in the walls, prison, field, Philadelphia…” you murmured to yourself. You repeated it over and over to yourself until something struck you. “H. H. Holmes,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

“What? What about him?” Sam questioned, straightening in his seat.

“That was his whole thing! He was really, and I mean, really into blondes— though, he’d kill just about anybody— had his whole ‘murder castle’ thing in Chicago, and the feds tracked him all the way to Boston. They brought him back to Philly, and he was hanged. Hence, field. Fields next to old prisons were almost always used for hangings,” you explained.

“What do you mean, ‘murder castle’?” Jo questioned. “And how do you know all this?”

“I like true crime,” you shrugged. “He built all these fake walls, fake hallways; his place was a fucking maze. Acid vats, trap doors, quicklime pits all up in his basement— although most of that was probably sensationalized— but anyway, this guy was a complete freak. ‘Multi-murderer’ was first used to describe him before they knew what serial killers were. He confessed to twenty-seven murders, but he probably killed over a hundred. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill his victims.”

Dean nodded, “Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.”

“At his place,” you continued, “cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair.”

Dean snickered at Jo. “Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em.”

“Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?” she said, anxiously.

“Nope. His body’s in town encased in a couple tons of concrete,” you responded.

“What, why?” she asked.

“Didn’t want anybody fuckin’ with his corpse. ‘Cause, y’know, that’s what he did,” you cringed.

“Wait, (Y/N), that means Teresa could still be alive. Inside the walls,” Sam added.

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls; anywhere thick enough to hide a girl,” Dean barked out, hurriedly moving around the apartment.

***

You went with Sam, and Dean went with Jo as he promised you he would. Sam couldn’t get too far into the crawl-spaces of the walls, and you insisted on pressing forward. If you could get through, then the space was big enough to hide a girl.

“(Y/N), holler if you need, okay?” Sam called to you.

“I’m good, dude, I promise. But you do the same.” You continued to wriggle through winding, claustrophobia-inducing corridors till you came face to face with the man himself; H. H. Holmes. Although, this version of the famed serial killer was a lot more gray, decayed, and gaunt than the one you’d seen in pictures. You screamed, “Sam!” before the world went dark.

***

You next awoke in a box that eerily mirrored a coffin; it was made of wood and just big enough for you to lay down in. You pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling to see long, deep, bloodied gashes in the wood; presumably nail marks. You huffed out a shaky breath, collecting yourself, when you noticed a slit in the wood to your right. A noise startled your already shaken mind, and you heard Jo say, “Hello?” You refused to talk, worried that it would upset Holmes even more.

You heard another woman’s voice coming from a different part of the room. “Is- Is anybody there?”

Jo continued talking. “Your name's Teresa? This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you.”

“Oh, god. He's out there; he's gonna kill us!” Teresa cried.

“No, he won't. We're getting out,” Jo insisted. “My friends are looking for us; they'll find us.”

Footsteps fell eerily nearby, and you could vaguely make out something approaching you.

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

‘So much for being quiet, Jo,’ you thought. The next thing you heard was Jo screaming in pain, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from calling out to her.

You took a knife out of your belt and began hacking at the wall. You kicked with all your might until you finally started to break through a little. Suddenly, a man’s mouth appeared at the opening you were making in the wood.

“You're so pretty. So beautiful,” the spirit cooed, reaching in your cell to stroke your cheek. You cringed and turned away, groaning in disgust. You turned back and stabbed it with your knife, the spirit crying out before disappearing again. You went back to kicking and hacking at the door with even more force than before. At long last, the paneling came loose, and you laughed in relief. You pried the rest of the paneling away from the wall and rolled out onto the floor, catching yourself before you toppled over completely. When you stood and dusted off your hands, Holmes appeared behind you and clasped a hand over your mouth. You kicked and struggled against him, screaming behind his hand muffling you. You wrestled with him a bit more before the spirit suddenly let you go. He disappeared completely when you heard a gunshot go off.

“(Y/N)!” Dean ran into the room, holding a shotgun.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” You ran to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Um, little help, here!” Jo said from her box.

You ran to the wall next to her and picked up a crowbar lying nearby. You began prying the cell open, groaning strenuously as you did so. When it finally released, you helped Jo down. “You okay?” you asked her.

“Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back,” she answered.

“I’m not leaving here just yet,” you said.

“(Y/N), no—” Dean protested firmly. He seemed to understand what you were doing.

“What other plan do you have, Dean?” “Wait, what’s going on here?” Jo questioned.

“(Y/N)’s gonna use herself as bait,” he explained.

“What, would you rather Jo be bait? I don’t think so,” you said flippantly. “Now, get them out of here.” You gestured to Sam to help a frightened Teresa and Jo out of the room.

***

You sat in the center of the room completely unmoving. You sat cross-legged, breathing evenly. You’d learned long ago how to steel yourself to these situations. You grinned slightly when Holmes began to approach you. When he got very close, Dean yelled, “Now!” and Sam and Dean began shooting the bags of salt you’d strung up to the ceiling to create a perfect circle of salt around the spirit. You ran out of the circle, leaving Holmes trapped inside. He wailed and growled at you, running around the salt circle pathetically.

“Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!” you laughed coldly.

You and the brothers climbed back up out of the sewer and closed the grate, fully silencing Holmes’ howls.

***

“So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?” Sam asked Jo as the three of you stood over the top of the closed sewer..

“Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?” Jo replied.

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?” she questioned.

Sam chuckled. “Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here.”

“For what?”

As if on cue, you heard the beeping of a large truck backing up. You grinned over your shoulder at Dean backing up the cement truck he’d stolen, and motioned for him to stop when the spout lined up over the sewer’s entrance.

Dean got out of the cab and came to stand next to you.

“You ripped off a cement truck?” Jo scoffed.

“We’ll give it back,” you shrugged. You turned a lever on the side of the truck and watched the cement pour down into the entrance.

“Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over,” Dean grinned.

***

As you and the brothers were heading out with Jo in tow, Ellen appeared at the entrance of the apartments, intense anger bubbling just under the surface. You and the boys cringed at the sight of her.

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

She forced the five of you to ride back to the Roadhouse in complete silence. Ellen sat in the front seat, staring blankly ahead, and you were sandwiched between Jo and Sam in the back.

Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Boy, you– you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?”

“You told her?!” you couldn’t help but blurt out.

Ellen scowled at you in the rearview mirror. You shrunk under her gaze.

“How about we listen to some music?” Dean flicked the radio on. Ellen immediately reached forward and flicked the radio off.

You looked up to Dean, who looked back to you.

“This is gonna be a long drive,” he muttered.

***

Ellen dragged her daughter into the Roadhouse by her elbow, and you and the brothers followed closely.

“Ellen? This is my fault. Okay?” Dean tried. “I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

Ellen whipped around, angrily commanding, “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter. Alone.”

The three of you left and loitered around in silence for the next few minutes. Jo stormed out of the Roadhouse soon after, tossing a glance to Dean to incentivize him to follow her.

“That bad, huh?” he asked as he walked after her.

“Not right now.”

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Jo immediately jerked her arm out of Dean's grasp. “Get off me!”

“Sorry. See you around,” he said, turning back to you and Sam.

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

“It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too, but,” she swallowed her forming tears, “I guess my father figured he could trust him. Mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed.”

The older brother’s face scrunched up. “What does this have to do with—”

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

“Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why,” Jo spat.

“Jo—” Dean tried.

“Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave.”

The three of you did as Jo asked. You headed back to Bobby’s to regroup and find yourselves another hunt. Dean was silent on the multi-hour-long drive back. When you stopped at Bobby’s house, Sam went inside. Dean stayed seated in his car, and you stayed with him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He scoffed. “ ‘What’s wrong’? Did you hear anything Jo said?”

“I did, I just wanted to see what’s goin’ on in your head,” you replied, unfazed by his attitude.

He shook his head and sighed. “If Ellen hated my dad so much and didn’t trust us at all, then why the fuck would she have called my dad in the first place?”

You nodded, getting out of the car; followed by Dean. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” you agreed. “She wants to get involved with your personal family shit and the demon and let us bunk at her place, and then bring up old crap you and Sam weren’t even a part of? I mean, I get that John did something that got ‘im killed, but I really don’t see how that’s your fault.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “At least we don’t have to babysit anymore.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. But you don’t have to pretend you’re not bothered by it. I know you are.”

He scoffed.

“Dean. I know you are. And I also know that I trust you with my life. And you know I don’t trust easily. You are not your father.” You walked up the steps into Bobby’s house, leaving Dean in the junkyard to mull over your words.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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melanieph321 · 5 months ago

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Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Thick Part 3/8

+ 18

Part 1 Part 2

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

"He called you what?"

"Fat. Or Not skinny, to be exact."

"Stronza." (Asshole).

You enjoyed driving with Rebecca. She wasn't as instructive or patient as Maria, and it was nearly impossible to communicate over the loud music playing in her car. But after your experience driving with Kenan, you could withstand a couple of false notes sung by her.

"Do you want us to talk to him, maybe ask Gio to give him a slap upside the head?" She was also very sympathetic to the incident involving Kenan, naturally taking your side.

"Tempting." You chuckled. "But no, I'd rather let it go and ignore him for the rest of my life."

"That will be a hard thing to do."

"Trust me, I've managed to block out a couple of fat-shamers in my life, Kenan will be no different."

"Yes, but what about our road trip to Bari? I imagine it'll be difficult ignoring someone for ten hours straight while confined into a cramped car."

"Right."

Just the thought of the road trip with your friends triggered an unpleasant feeling in your gut. It had more to do with the fact that you still didn't have a driver's license, and judging by the way things were going, you wouldn't possess one any time soon.

"How about we try the roundabout again? It should be more crowded at this hour."

"Yay."

Rebecca took you back to the roundabout that you and Kenan had tackled the week before. But unlike Kenan, she wasn't one to talk you through things, assuming that the actions needed were as obvious to you as they were to her. It resulted in you having some trouble finding the right gear for the approach into the right file, and unlike Kenan, Rebecca's hands weren't on the wheel, ready to spot you in case you'd need the assistance.

"Check your mirrors Y/N!" She shouted in panic.

The car swirled in the lane on your attempt to get it out of the roundabout. It swirled before coming to an abrupt stop.

"My car!" Rebecca cried.

Smoke rose from the hood of it. You had bumped it straight into the sidewalk. The car had to be towed and taken to the nearest mechanic shop right away.

"I promise to pay for all the damages." You assured.

"Of course you will. And I want compensation for the trauma that was inflicted on me. You're not a bad driver Y/N, you're a basket case."

"Ladies, ladies, please." Gio entered the small garage. He was wearing stained overalls, a plaquet with the name Joey on it. Joey, or Josef, was Gio's dad, owner of the shop. "There's nothing that yours truly can't fix. So please, no catfighting in my garage, as tempting as that would be to watch."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Just fix my car Gio, or else we won't have a ride to Bari this summer."

"Judging by the way Y/N is driving we might not even make it to Bari with her behind the wheel."

"Hey?" You hissed.

"Kidding, just kidding."

Gio approached the vehicle, taking a good look at it. It was clear that he was better with his hands than his brain. And he didn't seem to mind following in his father's footsteps, taking over the shop and running it one day. "Yeah, this is gonna take some time fix it and it's gonna cost you." He nodded. "It's gonna cost you plenty."

"Well, what are you waiting for, get started on it."

"Sorry Beck's, but I'm closing the shop at six."

"Six, why so early?"

"Didn't you hear, Luca and his band have a gig in town. All of us are invited, no?"

"Right, I totally forgot about that. Are you going Y/N, I'd rather just go home."

"Erm....I think I'm gonna go." You blushed.

"Alright, then you can ride with me." Gio said. "I'm picking up Kenan once my shift is done. The guy is probably still asleep as we speak."

"Kenan's coming?" You asked.

"Yeah, why?" Gio turned to Rebecca who made a grimace similar to yours.

"You know what, perhaps I should go." She said, "The more the merrier, no?"

"Right?"

"I'll call Maria and tell her to meet us there."

********************************************

You have seen many bands play live before. It always fascinated you how brave and care free the artists seemed on stage, going off on their instruments. Luca was no different, letting down his hair while rocking out on stage. It wasn't often that he let the world see what hid beneath the strings of his man-bun, — oh but when he did.

"Thank you everybody, I hope you've had a goodnight!"

"Go Luca!"

The crowd, including yourself, shouted his name at the top of your lungs. You weren't the only girl who had eyes for the band's lead guitarist, however, you were one of the few people who knew him personally.

"Great set man. You were awesome." Gio said, as your friends gathered backstage at the end of the night. The five of you had danced the night away like maniacs, influenced by an unhealthy amount of cheap alcohol.

"Thanks alot for coming guys, it means a lot."

"The night isn't over man, we're having drinks back at my place, aren't you coming." Said Gio.

"Sorry guys, gotta help the band pack up. But I'll see you guys at school on Monday. Y/N?" He said, stunning you with a smile.

"Y...yes?"

"I'll pick you up in the morning. You can drive my dad's Cadillac to school."

"It's a date." You grinned. It was really nice of Luca to want to stay and help his band. "He's so kind." You blurred out, during an intoxicated rant at Gio's house. Only you, Kenan, Gio and Maria made it back. Rebecca had her dad pick her up at the bar.

"So if you had to spend the night with someone in our friend group, it would be Luca." Gio nodded.

"Yes, but don't tell him I said that." You blushed. It was a messy game of truth or dare. The four of you were too drunk to perform any proper dares, which resulted in the majority of you choosing truth.

"Kenan, truth or dare?" You asked. It was your turn and you only asked him since it became obvious that you were ignoring him.

"Dare." He said.

"Okay, I dare you to make out with Maria for one minute."

Kenan grinned, but did not hesitate to scoot closer to Maria who sat next to him on the sofa. The two of them shared seductive glances before leaning in and engaging in the sloppiest make out session you've ever seen.

"My turn." Kenan wiped his mouth with a swipe of his tongue. "Gio, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Which girl in our friend group would you rather spend a night with?"

"Maria. My turn. Kenan, same question, which girl in our friend group would you rather spend a night with?"

"You guys are so annoying." Maria sighed, although you couldn't help but to notice the soft shade of pink that had blossomed on her cheeks. It might have been the aftermath of her make out session with Kenan, however, you noticed how she and Gio would throw glances at each other when they thought that no one was looking.

"Y/N."

"Huh?" You turned your head, noticing how all eyes were on you now, how Gio and Maria were holding back their giggles. "What's so funny?" They refused to answer you, drunk fucks. However, that's when you felt a hand on your thigh, with Kenan leaning in to whisper in your ear. "They're made for each other, don't you think? Almost like true love."

"What do you know about true love?" You shrugged his hand away.

Kenan's expression faltered. "You're still angry with me."

"Hah!" You laughed, but did not intend to sound as cruel as you did. "Try humiliated."

"Y/N, what happened during our…"

"Save it Kenan, I'm over it."

"You don't seem over it."

You turned to him, surprised by the way his eyes glowed beneath the dimmed lights of Gio's living room. "If there's anything I can do or say to make you forgive me...."

"You can't and there isn't."

His shoulders withered. "I never meant to hurt your feelings. I just....I get so tired after training. Sometimes I just can't help but run my mouth because I am so exhausted."

If this was Kenan's attempt to make you feel sorry for him you weren't buying it. Although it did strike your heart earlier, when Gio had gone to pick Kenan up at his house, revealing that he was missing a lot of days at school due to his commitments to Juventus. It was clear that Kenan lived a life different from all of yours. But surely he will go on to do great things in the future.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" You had tuned out of the conversation for a second. But apparently a second was enough for Gio and Maria to have snuck upstairs, leaving you and Kenan behind. He stared at you with big eyes, the alcohol on his breath strong but sweet. "Can I kiss you?"

"What?" You snorted, however, Kenan had already closed his eyes, leaning into you, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth.

You flinched. And as your hand went to push his weight off of you, the kiss deepend, Kenan's tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was granted as you gasped for air, his hand snaking behind your neck, railing you back in to kiss him again. It was unexpected, how good it felt. How a drunk kiss could be laced with so much passion, persuading you to make a series of bad decisions.

"Let's go upstairs, I brought condoms." Kenan traced his lips at the edge of your jaw, nipping at the skin.

"Okay." You whispered, however, your need for him became urgent, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to lay on top of you. Kenan's mouth moving down your neck tickled like feathers. His hands found their way underneath your shirt, stopping to cup the swell of your bra. But in a moment of indecision, like a child in the buffet line, his hand slipped down your tummy, to your thighs.

"What?" You giggled, seeing as he stopped to stare at you, eyes foggy from the alcohol.

"I don't want you to regret this."

"What is there to regret?"

"I'm serious Y/N, I want you to want this. I want you to want…me."

Your eyes widened. "Kenan." Your brain was clouded from the alcohol but not smashed enough for you not to recognize the change in his voice. Your hands went to this face. "I want this." You nodded. "I want you."

It was all the reassurance he seemed to need. Kenan leaned into kiss you and the tenderness of the kiss flared a swarm of butterflies to invade your stomach. He squeezed your thighs not minding the size of them. He was almost obsessed, eager to strip you of your skinny jeans. He did so promptly and you helped by raising your hips. However, you were not as comfortable during the next phase. The liquid courage in your veins ceased to flow once the realization hit that you were about to see Kenan naked for the first time and he you.

"You, okay?" He asked, noticing how your hands weren't running down his body anymore.

"Kenan I…?"

A fear sprung his eyes, A fear that you may have come to the conclusion that this was a mistake.

"I'm not as confident about my body as people think." You said.

"Your body?" He frowned, and shamelessly stared at what lay beneath him.

"Yes, my body." You sighed. "You said so yourself, I'm not skinny and guys like you like skinny girls without belly pouches and what not. "

"Guys' like me?" Kenan repeated, and if he was planning on playing dumb, you were grabbing your things and heading out the door. "Y/N, I don't know who's made up such lies about me, or if it's just you who likes to have a guy repeat how fucking sexy you are?"

"Pardon?" It felt like being hit by a brick. A brick that snapped you out of any cloudiness you previously felt.

Kenan smiled and broadly so. "I meant it the first time I said it, I like you Y/N, all of you."

It was as if a vail unraveled before you, revealing the beauty that was Kenan. His smile, his dimples, the cocky way that he arched his splintered brow, it was all offered to you, all you had to do was accept. A few minutes later you were going at it again, tongue deep, your bodies grinding against each other as if you were trying to start a fire. It was the wildest thing that you had ever done, to ride someone on a living room couch, not holding back on the moans, a pure reflection on how good it felt to have Kenan inside of you. He was merciless, shameless even. And after the first round he had you spread your legs while he went down on you for twenty minutes, refusing to let back to back oragsms stop him from making you squirm. You would certainly regret it in the morning and the near future, but for now you let yourself go under.

Part 1 Part 2

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz #juventus fc

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bts-0t-7 · 1 year ago

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So What? | MYG | Epligoue

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

WC: 635

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar @bontensbabygirl @codeinebelle @ldysmfrst @idkjustlovingbts @popcatx0 @yoonjinsgirl @marblemoonstones

< Prev. Series Masterlist. Next >

“Min Ji Sung!” You chased after your son. “I said stop running and put on your pants!”

Giggling could be heard as your son tried climbing up the stairs. Still too young to move up fast, you easily caught him at the bottom of the stairs and pulled up his pants. “Do not run around the house without clothes. People can see your butt.”

All the cheeky little boy did was wiggle his butt, tail wagging as he pistoned up the stairs on all four - only to be caught by Yoongi. His loud giggles rang clearly throughout the house as Yoongi ambushed him with belly tickles.

“You gonna listen to your mommy now?” Yoongi continued tickling him until he was short of breath from laughing. Yoongi got up and walked over to you, leaving your son on the ground to catch his breath.

Placing his hands on your six-month-old pregnant belly, Yoongi kissed your lips. “Hey, Jagiya.”

You smiled against his lips. Just then, Ji Sung clutched onto your legs. “No kissing! Mine!”

Yoongi looked at him, offended. “What? Before you is me! Your mom is mine, not yours. You’ll find yours when you’re old enough.”

Ji Sung wildly shook his head, soft cat ears flapping with the direction. “No! Mine!”

Yoongi pouted, looking at you. You - on the other hand - were trying to control your laughter looking at the two males in the family having a catfight.

“Don’t drag me into this now.” You laughed and picked Ji Sung up, propping him on your non-existent hips.

“Come on, let’s go or we’ll be late to the party.” You held Yoongi’s hand, walking down the stairs.

Yoongi took Ji Sung from you and strapped him into the car seat, ensuring that his tail wouldn’t be squashed as he lay back. Patting his head, Yoongi left your son to help you pack the diaper bag in the trunk.

Yoongi drove to the destination of Jimin’s house, listening to Ji Sung’s soft snores and you cooing at him. Yoongi was so focused on the both of you that when your hands came in contact with his ears, he jolted.

“What got you so deep in thought, love?” You smiled at his lack of response.

But now, all Yoongi saw was an angel. You looked like the purest thing on Earth, the best thing that ever came into his life. You were glowing and Yoongi basked in it. A tear slid down his cheeks and you grew worried.

“Yoongs,” You stroked his ears.

Yoongi wiped away the tears, pulling the car into the parking lot of Jimin’s house and instantly bringing your face to his.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jagiya.” He sniffled. “I just… got an epiphany.”

You chuckled at his choice of words. Yoongi was never one to use big words. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really.” Yoongi nodded, his signature gummy smile on show.

“Care to share what it was about?”

“You.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on now, Yoongi. We’ve been married for years.”

Thanks to the change of laws, hybrids are now better taken care of. However, society’s views can only change with time.

Yoongi laughed softly. “I am allowed to bask in your light.”

“So cheesy.” You teased, dragging your hair through his hair and rubbing his ears, causing a purr to emit out of him.

“You made me so.” Yoongi placed your foreheads together. “And I love you, more than words can ever describe. You are my stars, giving me so many reasons to live and so much light to sleep on.”

You smiled at him.

Oh, of course, you love him. But if words were never a thing, you would show him. And that is exactly what you did as you pressed your lips against his, giving him the answer of eternity.

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brokehorrorfan · 4 months ago

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Fright-Rags has released The Last Drive-In Nightmareathon Survival Kit to prepare viewers for Joe Bob Briggs' six-movie all-night marathon airing August 30 on Shudder and AMC+.

It includes a Last Drive-In 50x60 throw blanket with art by Justin Osbourn, Joe Bob's Mutant Mud coffee from Catfight Coffee, two custom popcorn boxes, and movie-style microwave popcorn.

Limited to 500, the set costs $75 and will ship the week of August 23. Shipping is free this weekend only with the code NIGHTMARE-A-THON.

#the last drive in #joe bob briggs #darcy the mail girl #nightmarathon #horror #horror host #fright rags #shirt #toy #gift #monstervision #horror movies #80s horror #justin osbourn

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tickled-2-death · 10 months ago

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I saw your post about tma tickle requests and I have literally never thought about lonelyeyes tickles, but now I need to see Elias brought down a peg or six by his ex-ex-ex husband(soon to add another ex) who's probably at least semi-transparent and covered in fog. Bonus points for all the sass!

Attitude Adjustment

Content warnings: unhealthy relationship, dubious consent(?), tickle torture, begging, feet content specifically, not necessarily sexual but sexual acts are mentioned.

This is a tickle fic.

“Peter, I have told you this several times before, and I will only repeat myself this once. I am not going anywhere near that pathetic boat.”

Elias just can’t seem to catch a fucking break today. First it was some shipment issue at the Archives, namely involving those two identical circus freaks with some mysterious box. Then, once they finally convinced him to sign off on it (he’ll just replace whoever dies in artifact storage, no big deal), there was some petty little catfight in the archives itself. One that he, despite all the paperwork that needed to be sorted, had to go downstairs and tell Jonathan off about. That’s not to mention that his coffee was cold by the time he got back, and-

“Darling, my love, my light. You’re thinking too hard.”

… and his husband, one Mr. Peter “just fuck off out to sea and forget it all” Lukas, simply will not shut up.

Elias pinches the bridge of his nose, propped up in their lavish bed in his silk pajamas, by all means in a position to relax that he intends not to spoil.

“I can’t stand the smell”, he begins to explain, “I cant stand the Lonely, and honestly the thought of being trapped on a giant metal hunk of rubbish with you for several months on end makes me want to disappear already.”

Peter, despite his patron and what you’d expect as a result of it, nearly never stops smiling. It’s a smug little shit sort of smile, mind you, but it hardly ever leaves his face. As of now, it droops into a frown.

“Elias, if we’re going to beat our record of staying married for four months-“

“Five months. Five months is the record.”

The captain sighs.

“If we’re going to make this work for more than five months, we’ve got to accept one another’s help! I’m just trying to think of a way to cheer you up, to get some of that tension out of you, in the only way I know how!”

Elias considers this, and ultimately decides that his husband is right. He’s a snarky bastard, even worse than Elias himself at times, but he’s trying to do the right thing. It’s the thought that counts? Right???

It doesn’t really matter. 200 years and counting, and he’s never been interested in admitting his own faults. Why start now? Especially for Peter goddamn Lukas.

So the shrewish little Beholder pulls out his bitchiest of bitch voices, and simply replies; “Well, you’d hardly like it if I recommended you to take someone’s statement, or delve into someone’s personal life for an ounce of fear, now would you?”, before rolling over and turning off his bedside lamp.

Something within Peter snaps just then. Not genuine anger, or at least not the violent sort. No, it’s simply the sudden and undeniable urge to teach someone a lesson. Elias’ eyes go wide, having Known what was about to happen, but it’s too late.

Peter roughly digs his fingers into his husband’s ribs, and vibrates them between the bones with all his might.

“OH FUCK-“ is all the poor, helpless man can manage before descending into mad cackles against his will. His dignity would never allow such a boisterous display of emotion, but there’s hardly a chance to suppress it in this position.

Instinctively, he rolls onto his stomach to escape the horrific sensation at his side. However, this proves to be the worst thing he could’ve possibly done, because Peter takes the opportunity to straddle his ass and get both sides at once.

“PEHEHETER! YOU- STOHAHAP THIS AT OHAHANCE! NOW!” Elias demands through several squeals, drumming his bare feet against the mattress behind them. Hands desperately grabbing for purchase or perhaps Peter’s dastardly wrists.

He doesn’t let up, of course, and that smile is back with a vengeance.

“Hmm- what was that kinky sex term you told me about? Where you punish someone for talking back?” Peter asks, tone jovial and unclear as to whether the question is genuine or rhetorical.

Elias, in turn, accidentally projects the answer into his mind. Mouth otherwise occupied with screams of ticklish agony.

“Brat taming, that’s right! Are you going to stop being a brat, Elias? Or is your significantly larger, stronger husband going to have to tickle you until you cry? We both know I’m well trained in regards to tying knots, so you’d better keep that in mind.”

Deciding to give the ribs a bit of a break, lest he accidentally bruise them, Peter jams his fingers into Elias’ sensitive underarms. It’s absolutely delightful, the way he screams even louder and clamps his arms to his sides. As if that will help, now that the offending digits are trapped exactly where they shouldn’t be.

“NOW! YOUHOHOHOL STOP RIHIGHT NOW! I DEHEHEE- DEMAHAHAND IT!!!” Elias tries to compel, but the concentration required to do so simply isn’t there.

Peter continues to burrow his fingertips into Elias’ armpits, wiggling and scritching across the ultra sensitive skin like worms trying to dig into the earth. He flails as much as humanly possible, twisting and snorting up a storm all the while, but Peter’s legs hold firm to his hips. He’s stuck, and completely at the other avatar’s mercy.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep on like this, love. That is, until you apologize, and whatever comes out of your mouth even now can and will be held against you. So let’s fix that attitude, yeah?”

Elias’ laugh goes silent, eyes screwed shut rendering his powers completely useless. Not that they weren’t already, but now he can’t even read Peter’s thoughts.

Mercifully, the tickling comes to a stop after about five straight minutes of torture. Elias takes the opportunity to breath, and to pout, while Peter continues to ramble on.

“Not going to say anything, then? That’s alright, I’ve got another place in mind. Remember that one time you asked for a foot massage, and every time I pressed too light you’d kick and tell me to do better? Well, if you can’t handle a massage I’d hate to see how you’ll handle ten fingers intentionally tickling you.”

Elias uses what little of his strength he’s got left to buck his hips. Nothing happens, so he begins to thrash any way he can, kicking and babbling out a mantra of “nononono”-

But Peter is quick, and built tough like the boat that stared this whole argument. It takes about two seconds for him to turn around, placing all his weight on the trapped ankles of his smart-mouthed partner. He cracks his knuckles, gives a quick wink in Elias’ direction, and scribbles his fingers up two shaking soles.

Elias cries out, pounding his fists against the mattress. “NNOOHOHO! PETERPETERPETER- GEHEET OOHOFF- I CAHANT!”

“Are you pleading with me?” He responds, otherwise uncaring and unwavering in his assault. He wiggles his nails against the soles of one foot, and digs in between the toes of the other.

Even now, there is the slightest hesitation. But when he adjusts his position so that he can rub his beard against Elias’ trapped feet, all remaining pride goes out the window and into the endless Vast.

“PLEHEHASEPLEASEPLEASE- SOHAHA- SORRY! DAHARLINGPLEASE-“

“Trying to appeal to my humanity, darling? I should be offended you’d use such language just to get away from me and my glorious facial hair”.

Tears stream down Elias’ face. The scruffy hairs rubbing against his soles is just too much to handle. So he does the unthinkable and gives up.

“PEHEHEETEERRRR-“ is all he can manage, all he can think in the midst of this hell, and somehow it’s enough for him to get the message.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, love, let me help.” Peter soothes, giggling at the little twitches he evokes by firmly rubbing Elias’ feet of residual tingles.

Elias, on the other hand, is utterly spent. He feels heavy as a sack of bricks, completely limp and hiccuping like a maniac. Once his awful, evil husband has decided that his feet can be left alone, he starts to rub his back.

“Poor, mean little thing you are. So sensitive for such a powerful man.” Peter coos, and despite himself Elias falls asleep to the sound of his voice and comforting feel of his hands.

#tma tickles #tma tickle fic #ticklish Elias bouchard #ler Peter lukas #lee Elias bouchard #Elias bouchard tickles #Peter lukas tickles

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layce2015 · 2 years ago

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

No Exit

Masterlist

"Los Angeles, California." Dean said once we get out of the car and walk towards the Roadhouse. "What's in L.A.?" I asked him. "Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult." He said. "Yeah? Girl got a name?" Sam asked him. "Katie Holmes." Dean replies and Sam and I laugh. "That's funny. And for you, so bitchy." I said to him.

But from inside the roadhouse comes the sound of breaking glass and shouting voices. Dean turns to us. "Of course, on the other hand — catfight." Dean said and I rolled my eyes as we go inside of the building.

We enter cautiously to see Ellen and Jo shouting at each other. "I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable!" Ellen shouts at her. "You can't keep me here!" Jo snapped back. "Oh, don't you bet on that, sweetie." Ellen growled.

"What are you going to do, are you going to chain me up in the basement?" Jo asked, angrily. "You know what, you've had worse ideas than that recently. Hey, you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school." Ellen said to her. "I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection." Jo said. "Yeah, and getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?!" Ellen said then she turns to see us.

"Guys, bad time." She said. "Yes, ma'am." Sam and I said, in unison. "Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway." Dean said. "Wait. I wanna know what they think about this." Jo said just as a family of four come in the building. "I don't care what they think!" Ellen yells at Jo.

"Are you guys open?" The father of the family asked them. "No!" Jo shouts just as Ellen said. "Yes!" The family look around, nervously, before the father said. "We'll just... check out the Arby's down the road." He said and they leave. "Awkward." I muttered to the boys when the phone rings

Jo glares at it, then at Ellen, who stalks over to answer it. "Harvelle's. Yeah, Preacher." Ellen answers and Jo turns to us. "Three weeks ago a young girls disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." She said as she shoves a file folder at Dean. "Take it, it won't bite." She said. "No, but your mom might." Dean said to her.

She pinches her lips, still holding out the folder, then he takes it reluctantly. "And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—" Jo started to say when I look over the file and look up at her.

"Who put this together? Ash?" I asked her. "I did it myself." She said, proudly, and I give her a smile. "Impressive." I said to her and she smiles as I hand the file to Sam, who looks at it too.

"I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less." Sam said and Ellen comes over to us. "Good. You like the case so much, you take it." She said to us. "Mom!" Jo yells. "Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't." Ellen said and Jo walks off while the boys and I exchange looks before we leave.

"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case." Sam said once we enter the apartment building in Philadelphia. "Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so." Dean said as we pull out our EMF readers.

"You guys getting anything?" Dean asked us.

"Nope." I replied.

"No, not yet." Sam said then once he runs his reader over the light switch, it purrs. He leans over. "What's that?" He asked. "What?" Dean and I said and he starts to touch black goo on the wall.

"Holy crap." Sam whispers as Dean and I touch the goo as well. "That's ectoplasm." I said, astonished. "Well, guys, I think I know what we're dealing with here." Dean said and we look over at him. "It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man." He said and I roll my eyes then I wipe the ectoplasm on his cheek. "Oh look, he slimed you." I said and gives me a playful glare.

"Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit." Sam said. "All right, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls." Dean said and we exit the apartment and walk down the hallway; hearing voices. We go and hide around a corner.

"It's so convenient." A familiar female voice said and I frown and look at the boys. "Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice. All the apartments come furnished, too." A male voice said and they come around the corner and to see a man and Jo walking. "It is so spacious. You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place." Jo said and we step away from our hiding space.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked her and she smiles and walks up to him. "There you are, honey." She said and she grabs Dean around the waist. "This is my boyfriend Dean and his buddy Sam and Sam's girlfriend, (y/n)." Jo said to the man. "Good to meetcha. Quite a gal you've got here." The man said to Dean. "Oh yeah, she's a pistol." Dean said as he smacks Jo's ass, and she gives a fake laugh.

"So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent." Jo said to Dean sweetly while Sam and I exchange a look. "Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow." Dean said and the man looks at him. "How'd you get in?" He asked Dean. "It was open." Dean replied.

"Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked the man. "Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stick me for the rent." Ed replied. "Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me." Jo said as she hugs up to him and I had to bite my lips. "Oh, sweetie." Dean said as he smacks her again.

Jo chuckles and smiles then she pulls out a wad of cash. "We'll take it." She said as she hands the money to Ed.

"I'll flip you for the sofa." Jo said once we got inside of the apartment. "Does your mother even know you're here?" I asked her. "Told her I was going to Vegas." She replied. "You think she's gonna buy that?" Dean asked her. "I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos." Jo said.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here either." Dean said to her. "Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it." Jo spat at him. "Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam asked her. "Working, at the Roadhouse." She replied. "Hunters don't tip that well." I said. "Well, they aren't that good at poker, either." She said just as Dean's phone rings and he answers it.

"Yeah." He said then his eyes widen a bit. "Oh, hi Ellen." He said and Jo looks at him, warningly. Then he holds his phone back to Jo. "I'm telling her." He said and she runs up to him and they have a furious, muttered argument.

"I haven't seen her." Dean said once he brought his phone back to his mouth. "Yeah, I'm sure. Absolutely." He said then he hangs up the phone; Jo grins, cheerfully.

Dean is pacing, Jo was sitting at the table with blueprints spread out. She begins flipping a small knife around while Sam and I sit on a couple of chairs. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago." Jo said. "Yeah? What was here before 1924." Dean said, questioning. "Nothing. Empty field." Jo said.

"So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell." I said to her. "I already checked. In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." Jo said then she turns to Dean. "Would you sit down, please?" She asked and he sits down.

"So, have you checked police reports, county death records..." he said and she nods. "Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing." Jo said. "I think the jury's still out on that one. Could you put the knife down?" Dean asked her and she sets it down.

"Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it." said Sam. "Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo said. "Right. So. You and (y/n), we'll take the top two floors." Dean said to her and I glance over at him.

"We'd move faster if we split up." Jo said. "Oh, this isn't negotiable." Dean said, firmly, then he looks at me. "Can we talk? Alone?" He asked me and I nod. Both of us get up and we walk away from Sam and Jo. "I need you to keep an eye on her." Dean mutters to me. "Yeah, sure. You can count on me." I said. "Okay, just...be careful, okay?" He said to me. "Of course. And you boys be careful as well." I said to him.

After while, Jo and I were walking down a dim hallway with EMF readers, I was walking real close next to her. "So. You gonna buy me dinner?" Jo asked me. "What are you talking about?" I asked her, confused. "It's just if you're gonna ride me this close it's only decent you buy me dinner." Jo said, sarcastically.

"Oh, that's hilarious. I hate to disappoint but I don't swing that way. You know, it's bad enough Dean had to lie to your mom, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight...I don't know if you've noticed, but you're kind of the spirit's type." I said to her. "Exactly." Jo said.

"You wanna be bait?" I asked her. "Quickest way to draw it out and you know it." Jo said and I rolled my eyes. "Oh." I muttered. "What?" Jo asked. "I'm so regretting this." I said. "What? You afraid I'm gonna take your spot?" She asked me and I stopped in my tracks and turn to her.

"No. I'm not afraid you taking my spot. I'm afraid for you to get hurt. You're an amateur. You have no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barflies put in your head." I said to her. "Now you sound like my mother." She said to me.

"Oh, and that's a bad thing? Because let me tell you..." I said but I stop myself. "What?" She asked me. "Forget it." I said. "No, you started this." Jo said to me and I scoff. "Jo, you've 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. And John started the boys when they were young as well." I said.

"You love the job." Jo said to me. "Yeah, but I'm a little twisted." I said to her. "You don't think I'm a little twisted too?" She asked me. "Jo, 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. Might be hard to find later." I said and we approach a grating near the floor.

Seconds later, Jo turns around, gasping. "What?" I asked as I turn to her. "I'm not sure." She said and I got a whiff of a weird scent . "You smell that?" I asked her and she starts sniffing the air.

"What is that, a gas leak?" She asked. "No. Something else. I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." I said and Jo crouches by the grating then her EMF reader purrs. "Mazel Tov. You just found your first spirit." I said to her. "It's inside the vent." She asked as I crouch beside her, shining my flashlight. Then I hand it to her. "Here." I said and I pull out a screwdriver and unscrew the grating, pulling it off the wall.

"There's something in there. Here." I said and I reach my arm inside, feeling around. I felt something soft and I grabbed it then pulled my hand out, revealing I was holding a clump of blond hair. Jo makes a noise of disgust as we look at the hair. "Somebody's keeping souvenirs." I remarked.

The next morning, Sam and I woke up and decided to go get everyone coffee. Dean was still passed out on the sofa while Jo was sitting at the table looking through notes and blueprints. I smiled, softly, at Dean sleeping before I follow Sam out of the room

But we didn't get very far as we saw cop cars outside of the apartment buildings. We hid in the corner to hear Ed talking to some cops saying that another girl had gone missing. Sam and I exchange a look then we head back to the apartment and burst through the door.

Jo and Dean, who was now awake, look to at us in shock. "Where's the coffee?" Dean asked us. "There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared." Sam explained.

Later, Dean and I went to investigate the room and learn more about the missing girl while Sma and Jo stayed at the apartment to study the notes. Dean and I came back and he shuts the door behind us.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn." Dean said to the others. "And her apartment?" Jo asked us. "Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too." I said to her.

"Well, between that and that tuft of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls." Sam said, shrugging. "But who is it? Building's history is totally clean." Dean said, annoyed, as Jo picks up a photograph. "Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong place." She said.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, confused. "Check this out." Jo said as she hands the photo to Sam. "An empty field?" He asked as he hands the photo to us. "It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door. The windows." Jo said and I look at it and noticed there was bars on the windows on the building.

"Bars." I said as Dean looks at the picture. "We're next door to a prison?" He asked, shocked.

"Thanks, Ash. And if you breathe a word of this to my mom... That's right. I will. With pliers." Jo said into her phone sometime later. Then she hangs up and turns to us. "Okay. Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door." Jo said to us.

"Well, then, we need a list. All the people executed there." I said and she nods. "Ash is already on it." She said.

Minutes later, Sam was scrolling down a very long list of names on his laptop. "A hundred fifty seven names?" He said, shocked. "We've gotta narrow that down." Dean said. "Yeah." Sam mutters. "Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs." I said and Sam scrolls down until I noticed a name that seemed familiar.

"Wait, Sam. Click on that name." I said and he clicks on the name. "Herman Webster Mudgett?" Sam said, confused. "Yeah?" Jo asked as I look at the boys. "Wasn't that H. H. Holmes' real name?" I asked him and both give me shocked look. "You've gotta be kiddin' me." Dean mutters and we started to research Holmes.

"Yep. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7, 1896." Dean said and I let out a chuckle. "H. H. Holmes himself. Come on, I mean, what are the odds?" I asked them. "I know, right?" Sam said.

"Who is this guy?" Jo asked. The term multi-murderer. They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer, before anybody knew what a serial killer was." Dean explains. "Yeah, he confessed to twenty seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred." Sam said. "And his victim flavor of choice? Pretty petite blondes. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill 'em." I said as I nod towards Jo then I stopped as I realized something.

"Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair." I said then Dean turns to Jo. "Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em." He said to her.

"Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?" Jo asked. "Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete." Sam said. "What? Why?" Jo asked. "The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. 'Cause, you know, that's what he used to do." Dean said and i start to pace and think.

"You know somethin'. We might have an even bigger problem than that." I said. "How does this get bigger?" Jo asked me. "Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory, they had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits... he built these secret chambers inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death." I explained.

"So Teresa could still be alive. She could be inside these walls." Jo said. "We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls, anywhere thick enough to hide a girl." Dean said and we nod.

Jo and Dean went to one end of the building while Sam and I went to the other end. Sam called Jo and told her we hadn't found anything but we kept looking around.

Sometime later, we walked down a hallway when Dean runs headlong into us. "Whoa." Sam and I said as Dean had a look of anger and annoyance and fear on his face.

"He's got Jo." He said, making Sam and I look at him, confused. "What?" Sam said. "How'd that happen?" I asked him. "I wasn't with her; I left her alone. Dammit!" Dean shouts as he turns his back and I walk over to him.

"Hey, hey, look, we'll find her, all right?" I said to him, firmly. "Where?" Dean asked. "Inside the walls." Sam said. "We've been inside the walls all night. None of the other girls were there, she won't be either." Dean said and we start to head back to the apartment room.

"Look. We've just gotta take a beat and think about this. Maybe we got Holmes' M.O. wrong." Sam said to Dean that night after we try to find Jo. "Yeah, well, we'd better friggin' think fast." Dean growls then his phone rings and he answers it.

"Yeah." He answered. "Ellen." He said and Sam and I look up at him in shock and I felt a large lump in my throat. "She's gonna have to call you back, she's taking care of, uh, feminine business." Dean said into the phone then he stays quiet for a moment before he sighs. "Look, we'll get her back." He said.

"The spirit we're hunting, it took her." Dean said and Sam and I exchange a look. "She'll be okay, I promise." Dean said. "What?" He asked after a few moments of silence. "It won't. I won't let it. Ellen, I'm sorry, I really am." He said then he hangs up the phone.

"Damnit!" He shouts as he turns to us. "Don't beat yourself up, Dean. There's nothing you could have done." I said to him. "Tell me you guys have got something." Dean said and I look over at Sam. Uh, maybe. Look. You look at the layout of the Holmes murder castle, there's all the torture chambers inside the walls, right?" He said as Dean and I go around him and look at the computer.

"Right." Dean and I said. "But there's one we haven't considered yet. The one in this basement." Sam said and my eyes widen. "This building doesn't have a basement." I said. "You're right, it doesn't. But I just noticed this. Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system that hasn't been used for---" Sam explains when Dean stands up and starts to leave. "Let's go." He said as he grabs his jacket and books; Sam and I follow.

The next morning, Dean, Sam and I were walking the streets of Philadelphia. Sam had a metal detector while Dean and I had a shovel each. We follow the trail into an open field until Sam stops over one spot, the metal detector whining. "Here." He said and Dean drops his bag and he and I start digging furiously.

After some shovel work, we dig with our hands to uncover a metal trap door, which we pull open. Dean hands Sam and me a shotgun and takes one, and a flashlight, then starts descending. Sam and I follow him. Once in the sewers, we began to make our way through and crawl along on our elbows and knees through the tunnels.

Eventually, we heard noises and come up to this opening and see a figure standing there. "Hey!" Dean shouts and the figure turns around, revealing it to be H. H. Holmes. Dean and I fire our gunz into Holmes' chest, sending him flying backwards and out of sight.

"Jo?!" I shout. "I'm here!" She shouts back and Dean finds an iron bar leaning against a wall and starts to pry it open. Sam and I investigate the other compartments; one contains gruesome body parts but the other contained a person, which had to be Teresa.

"We're gonna get you out of here, all right?" Sam said to her. "Guys!" Dean shouts and he hands us a bar. "Hang on." Dean said and he goes to open the compartment to let Jo out while Sam and I get Teresa out.

"You all right?" Dean asked Jo. "Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back." Jo said. "Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet." I said to her.

"What?" Jo asked me. "Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan? Now it's kind of the only one we got." I said to her and I turn to the boys, Sam shrugs while Dean nods at me.

Jo was sitting alone, silently, in the middle of the chamber. She has her arms wrapped around her knees and is trembling, but breathing deeply and steadily. Holmes appears behind her and walks forward. "Now!" Dean shouts as Holmes gets closer.

Jo dives forwards as Sam, Dean and I fire at the bags on the walls; several bags unroll and spill salt in a perfect circle around Holmes, trapping him. I pull Jo to safety as Holmes circles, gibbering and screaming in terror.

"Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" Jo shouts and we shut the grate, sealing off the room.

Later, Jo, Sam and I were standing at the entrance to the sewers, looking down and waiting for Dean. "So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asked her. "Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?" She asked us.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." I said as Sam nods. "Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?" She asked us. "Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here." Sam said.

"For what?" She asked then we hear a loud beep of a large truck backing up. Sam and I smile and look over our shoulder to see a cement mixer backing into the field, stopping just over the sewer entrance. "For that." I said as Sam goes and waves for Dean to stop the truck. "Whoa!" He shouts.

Then Dean gets out of the cab then he and Sam set up the cement mixer right over the entrance. "You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked Dean. "I'll give it back." Dean said and we watch the cement pour on down. "Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over." I said and Dean nods.

That night, Sam, Jo and I were stuffed in the backseat of the Impala whioe Dean was driving and Ellen was in the passenger seat. And she hadn't really spoke since she found us.

"Boy, you, you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Dean said as he tries to make conversation but she gives no reaction to him. Sam, Jo and I exchange a look.

"How about we listen to some music?" Dean asked and he flicks the radio on but Ellen reaches forward and flicks the radio off. Sam, Jo and I exchange another look, while Dean glances back as if asking for assistance. I shrug at him and he sighs. "This is gonna be a long drive." He mutters.

We got to the Roadhouse by the time sun rising, and Ellen storms in, dragging Jo by the elbow. The boys and I follow them inside. "Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there, I think her dad would be proud." Dean said to her and Ellen turns to him, sharply. "Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter. Alone." She said and we head outside

We lean on the Impala, the three of us don't talk at all as we felt bad for doing this Ellen. Minutes later, Jo comes storming out of the bar then she glares at me and Dean. Confused, we follow her as she keeps walking away.

"That bad, huh?" Dean asked her. "Not right now." She grumbles. "What happened?" I asked her as we walk up to her. Then I grab her shoulder. "Hey, talk to us." I said and she turns to me, sharply, and shoves my hand off of her.

"Get off me!" She yells and I hold my hand up as Dean comes up next to me. "Hey, hey!" Dean said and she glares at us. "Sorry. See you around." Dean said and he takes my arm and we turn to leave.

"Dean. (Y/n). It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt, two actually. Funny, he usually worked alone; these guys mostly worked either together or on their own too, but...I guess my father figured he could trust them. Mistake. The guys screwed up, got my dad killed." Jo said.

"What does this have to do with—" Dean started to ask but Jo shouts over him. "It was your father, Dean." She said then she turns to me. "And your dad too, (Y/n)." She said and I felt shock once she said that. "What?" We said.

"Why do you think John and (father's name) never came back? Never told you guys about us? Because they couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why." Jo screams.

"Jo." Dean said and I shake my head. "Jo, we're not like our dads." I said to her and she scoffs. "Just...just get out of here. Please, just leave." She said and she walks off as Dean and I exhange worried looks.

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