#dean winchester heist au

[talesmaniac89]

Charity Heist 12 - aka. All Chained Up With Nowhere to Go

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

Start Here - Last - Next (Coming soon)

Making your way to the back of the night club, you looked at your watch and held your breath for a second as you listened out for trouble. Sam would have made it to the guards stationed out front by now, but you didn’t hear any signs of fighting. Which should mean you were good to go. 

So, with one last glance towards Dean, who was setting up close enough to react if you called for help through the comms, but not close enough to be spotted, you slipped around the corner and rolled your shoulders as you faced the wall. 

Surveying your surroundings you smirked at how goddamn easy they’d made it for you. The building was from the 1950s or 60s, by your estimation. God how you loved architects from the ‘golden era’. 

Their hard-on for the Brutalist style of architecture meant you were left with plenty of sharp angles and ledges to use when scaling the wall. And this building was no different. All blocky and filled with unnecessary little ledges and windows that were nearly too close to each other, all the way up. Like your own little stairway to heaven. 

If heaven was the roof of an abandoned nightclub that was… 

Shouldering your bag of tools, you slipped on your gloves instead. Choosing to free solo the climb. Sure, you did have climbing gear in the bag for scaling walls. But using any of them on that wall would be an affront to Charlie’s genius. 

So, instead you easily scaled the simple structure in a few short minutes without getting any tools out of your Mary Poppins bag of thievery. Not even slightly winded from the easy climb as you hoisted yourself up on the ledge and looked down over it with a smirk. 

Suck it Catwoman. 

With no time to waste you quickly, and quietly, made your way across the roof, looking for the skylight featured in Charlie’s blueprints. Keeping low so as to not be seen by anyone passing by, as the completely flat roof left little in the form of blind spots if someone were to look up at the wrong moment from across the street.

Luckily, the skylight itself was easy enough to spot. Even though it was covered in a grimy layer of dust and dirt from years of being left unattended, some parts of it still caught the bright sunlight and reflected it back at you. And, like the sneaky little thief you were, you could spot anything even remotely shiny from miles away. 

Skylights, apparently, included. 

Slowing your pace, you dropped down along the edge of the glass and squinted through the layer of dirt, looking for… Well, more dirt. Just this time in the shape of the mobster who was stupid enough to get himself caught. Your earlier high from scaling the building faded at the thought of having to rescue the master of sass himself as you frowned at the dirty glass, looking for a spot that was clean enough to look through. 

Once you finally found a dime sized spot, however, your smile returned. Twisting into a smirk as you looked down at Crowley in the middle of the room. It warmed your little thieving heart to see the smug bastard chained to a chair with, from what you could tell, some kind of cloth shoved into his mouth to gag him. 

Apparently you weren’t the only one who didn’t appreciate the mobster’s style of ‘communication’.  

Better yet, they clearly didn’t see Crowley as the big bad he made himself out to be. Either that or Sam was really wowing the crowds out in the front of the nightclub… Since the room was free of guards. Leaving your little damsel all on his lonesome.

Which made your job a hell of a lot easier. Since it meant you wouldn’t have to silently knock them out one by one before rescuing the chained up princess. 

Sitting down cross-legged on the roof next to what looked like one of the easiest glass panels to remove, you pulled your bag of tricks off your back. 

Though you didn’t mind just watching Crowley’s misery through the dirty skylight, time was of the essence. If not for the mobster, then for your friends on the ground. Which meant you needed to work fast, instead of making Crowley suffer some more. Which would have been fun. Especially since you’d have front row seats to the show. But alas, duty called, and you’d long since lost ghosting privileges against that cruel bitch, so you had to answer.

With one last smirk down at the chained up mobster, you quickly pulled out your pre-calculated lengths of rope and additional harness hooks. Expertly putting on your full rappelling gear and triple checking your knots as you mentally did the math, trying to calculate how high up you were. 

Charlie’s blueprints had included an approximation of the height from the ceiling to floor, so you should have just enough rope to make a safe and soft landing. But sometimes those blueprints were rounded down. Which could leave you a few inches short. So you still eyed the floor warily, before deciding that… Fuck it, it was a close enough match to your pre-determined rope length. Letting you shave a few minutes off of your prep. 

Pulling on your harnesses, you triple checked that everything was in working order with a few sharp tugs. Allowing yourself a pleased hum when everything stayed unmoving and taut under your expertly trained fingers. 

Fuck 50 shades… Christian Grey had nothing on your rope work. 

Next up in your backpack of wonders, you pulled out the throwing knives Charlie had designed for you. Using one to loosen the panels you’d be rappelling down through before tucking the other blades away safely inside your sleeve. Just in case you had to face off with a goon while rescuing the damned Scotsman. 

The silicone holding everything in place was old. And so, you could luckily make quick work of it the old school way, without involving other gadgets to soften the bindings or cut through the glass. Soon enough you held the first glass panel gently between two gloved hands. Grinning victoriously at the pane before just as gently placing it on the roof beside you and working on the next one.

The last thing you needed was glass dropping down onto the concrete floor below and alerting the guards. Even if it would have been funny to see Crowley’s reaction. Or even better yet, having the panel knock the mobster out completely. At least then you wouldn’t have to actually listen to him as you saved his ass. 

Luckily they were big enough, so after removing just four of the sturdy glass panels, you had just enough space to safely let yourself rappel down through the skylight. 

“All set, got eyes on our damsel. I’m moving in now,” You whispered out into the empty space around you. Knowing your earpiece would catch your words and transfer them right into the ears of both Sam and Dean. 

Giving it a beat, you waited for Dean’s confirmation and held your breath hoping you wouldn’t hear from Sam. Afterall, the youngest Winchester had his piece muted unless necessary so that his own grifting wouldn’t interfere with your infiltration as he talked circles around the guards out front. If he answered you, it would mean quietly and carefully was out the window and Dean would have to go in guns blazing. 

“Coast is still clear, Sam’s keeping them busy…” Dean’s voice ended on a hesitant note that had your body tense as you waited, holding your breath in case your hitter had been spotted talking to himself by an eagle-eyed guard. Yet, as he continued speaking, you let your body relax with a soft smile. 

“Stay safe (Y/N)...” 

“Always Dean, you know me. Risk-averse as fuck,” You shot back with a small grin, knowing your words would have the mercenary rolling his eyes and Sam doing his utmost to not do the same. After all, considering part of your job description was rappelling down buildings, crawling through claustrophobic ventilation systems and dodging lasers, you were the furthest thing from ‘risk-averse’. 

Crouching by the side of the now open section of the sky light, you took a breath to steady yourself without waiting for any response from either of your ground based backup. Knowing neither would want to reward your absolute comedic genius with an answer anyway. 

Instead, you refocused on your task at hand; hooking your harness lines up to the sturdiest pipes and concrete outcroppings you could see. 

This was it. The best part of the job. 

Looking down at the ground three full floors below from the theater styled open concept of the nightclub, you smirked at Crowley’s bound form. Still completely unaware that you were about to drop down and rescue his ass. Luckily the skylight was focused directly on the middle of the dance floor. Saving you time as you wouldn’t have to slow your descent to deal with the two levels of balconies and seating areas surrounding the dancefloor where Crowley was chained to his chair. 

A straight forward leap of faith would do just fine. 

And they were just so much more fun than stupid slow and steady descents. 

The seconds before a jump always made you feel like you were in one of those action movies Dean loved making you watch in your downtime. Even though he spent every second criticizing every single action hero for their shoddy gun work. Not that you were any better. Any break-in scene was always heavily peppered with your own expert opinions. 

Taking one last breath you stood up and rolled your shoulders before turning until your back was facing the open section of the skylight. And, with no hesitation, you stepped back. Letting yourself freefall down into the building. 

You were Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. Just hotter, not out of your mind, and with actual skills. You were James Fucking Bond, and for once not a damn Bond girl. You were grace personified. You were… 

Fuck.

The harness snapped taught just a few inches off the floor, cutting off your internal monologue as effectively as it cut off your oxygen.

You were winded. 

---

Luckily, the slightly botched landing was done behind Crowley. And even when winded, you were a professional, which meant he wouldn’t even know you were there until you wanted him to know. So the Scotsman didn’t get to gloat at your less than graceful entrance.

Unhooking your tether, since you knew you couldn’t carry the fully grown man back up, you took a second to poke gently at your slightly sore torso with a grimace before you cleared your throat to alert Crowley to your presence. Taking a bit of pleasure in seeing the big bad tense up in fear until you strolled nonchalantly up from behind him, coming into view from behind his chair. 

Yet, as soon as he saw it was you, and not the people who had given him all that fancy new silver jewelry that locked him to the chair, the mobster visibly relaxed in his seat. Leaning back with what you thought was a smirk through the oily cloth the bad guys had used to gag him as you scowled at the infuriating Scotsman. 

Nodding his head, Crowley asked you, non-verbally, to remove the gag in his mouth as you just smirked down at him. For a second, you considered just leaving it there. But you knew it would only buy you a minute, at most, until you picked the locks on the cuffs and chains locking him to the chair anyway. And that minute of him staying gagged would probably just lead to more sass once he could remove the gag himself. 

It just wasn’t worth it. 

Sighing in defeat, you grimaced as you pinched the outside of the cloth with two gloved fingers. Not wanting to be anywhere near the mobster’s mouth as you gingerly removed the oily cloth that had clearly just been grabbed off of some of the debris lying around in a desperate attempt to shut the talkative Scotsman up. 

As soon as the gag was out, however, you really wished you’d left it in. Or one better; decided to just knock the damn irritating man out so you could rescue him in peace. 

“Here to help me darling?” Crowley sounded relaxed and confident as he spoke up without even as much as a thank you. Throwing you that trademark smirk as the chains clanked with a small wave of his fingers in your direction. Huffing you dropped to your knees and shrugged off your backpack again with a roll of your eyes. You wanted to be out of there fast. If nothing else, just to not have to be around the self-proclaimed king of the underground. 

“Oh… Honey. You need a lot of help. But I can’t help you. Once we get out of here, go make a therapist rich somewhere. Preferably far away from me,” You snapped back as you pulled out your lock picking set. Sneering up at Crowley as he chuckled dryly at your comeback. 

“Concerned for my well being are you? That’s sweet (Y/N). Once this job is done you should come work for me. Keep an eye on me from up close and… Personal,” Crowley’s words were peppered with enough innuendo to make you gag on it as you shuddered visibly at the idea of being anywhere near the mobster for an extended period of time. 

Sure, you knew it was all just… Harmless, with Crowley. He wasn’t interested in you. He was only interested in your reactions. Because though you could put up a good front when you needed to, you could never hide your disgust whenever the mobster flirted with you. 

Throwing him another sneer, you placed the extra picks between your teeth to keep from cursing the man out. As you glanced up at him before refocusing on the locks that needed picking, your features twisted into a small smirk as you noticed the bruises forming under his eyes for the first time. 

At least they beat him. 

Getting to work, you made easy work of the first chain shackling his feet to the ground. Not wanting his hands loose whilst you worked. Luckily the bad guys had made use of standard industrial padlocks to lock the chains around his feet. Even if they’d gone a little overboard by having four separate locks on the damned things. 

Not that it mattered, you could have opened the laughably simple locks with nearly anything. While blind folded. Though, you didn’t let that on, as you pretended to focus on the locks. In some vain hope that the man in his damned tailored suit would shut up and let you work. 

Though, you should have known better. 

It was Crowley. If he stopped talking, it probably meant he was dead. Or worse… Scheming something. 

“Don’t you feel sorry for me?” The mobster prodded, clearly having noticed your little pleased smirk at seeing him bruised and beaten. Which… Hell. Why would he even ask? Your smirk should have been answer enough. If Sam hadn’t profusely forbidden it, you would have already socked him one yourself, for putting your whole operation in jeopardy.

“I have no sympathy for criminals,” You spat back between clenched teeth to keep the spare lockpicks in place as you got to work on the next padlock, having already made short work of two of the four chaining his legs to the chair. 

“You know, (Y/N), you’re technically a…” Crowley just drawled back, throwing the defense you’d offered up to Dean only hours earlier right back in your own dumb face, though he had no way of knowing. And, unfortunately, also bringing back memories of the explosive results to follow in the closed and private gun range. Which left you with little mental capacity to think of a good comeback as your fingers trembled around the lock picks before cutting off Crowley’s words with a growl. 

“Shut. Up,” Spoken through gritted teeth, your words came out with a little less sass and a whole lot more anger, which thankfully, for once seemed to temporarily shut the mobster up. Even if it was because he was busy musing over what had made you so angry just so he could use it as ammunition against you in the future. 

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you absentmindedly sucked on the two lockpicks you’d placed in your mouth. As if the taste of steel and the fresh dose of oxygen could push away any thoughts of Dean’s lips… Or his arms, or body or… Damn it. Even through the taste of steel on your tongue you could still taste that hint of spiced peppermint. 

Forcing yourself to focus, you removed the two picks you’d been biting on from between your teeth and instead bit the inside of your cheek as you made quick work of lock number three and four, leaving Crowley’s feet free. Though his hands were still both handcuffed to the chair. 

You were a goddamn professional. 

You’d done well so far at keeping the memories of the gun range or closet from interfering with the job. Sure, things had been awkward in the truck, but you’d still done what High School Musical taught you and kept your goddamn head in the game. 

There was no way in hell you’d let Crowley destroy your flow this close to the finish line.

“Take your time darling, I’ve got all the time in the world,” Crowley drawled. As if you weren’t already picking the locks in fucking record time. Though, for once, you were nearly grateful for his damned sass. Since it forced your thoughts back into the not-exactly-safety of the abandoned nightclub instead of the much more dangerous territory that was the bunker’s gun range. 

“Do you enjoy it?” You just mused back as you moved up to the first pair of handcuffs chaining his left hand to the arm of the chair. Taking your damn time with positioning the lock so you could see the keyhole, just to piss the mobster off a little bit more. 

You took your victories where you could find them, and Crowley had just served this one up on a silver platter. Though he put up a good front, you hadn’t missed the slight urgency to his lazy drawl. Nor the little nervous glance of his dark eyes towards what you guessed was the door behind you; keeping an eye out for any uninvited guests crashing the party. 

Which, in fairness, you would have been too. If you didn’t trust Sam to have your back. Or at least warn you if he couldn’t stop the mobsters outside from coming to check on their hostage situation. 

“Enjoy what pet?” Crowley seemed slightly amused as his eyes watched you expertly place your picks in the small lock on the side of his shiny new silver bracelet before rising to meet yours with that same cocky smirk back in place. 

“Being an insufferable ass,” You snapped back just as the handcuff on his left wrist clicked open. 

“Of course… Why do you think I do it all the time?” Crowley chuckled, following his words up with yet another example of his trademark insufferableness, as he got in your way by pulling his now free hand across his body to use his still tied up right hand to rub away the irritation left by the cuffs. Stopping you from continuing your lock picking as you rolled your eyes at the big baby.

“A hard childhood? Past trauma? Some Freudian level shit with your parents? Actually... I’ve met your mother. That does explain some shit. But still… Shush, I don’t want to know. Take it up with the therapist I told you to hire,” You shot back as you pushed his free left hand away to give you access to the last lock keeping him chained to the chair. Keeping up your rant until you heard the satisfying sound of the final lock clicking open to stop Crowley from shooting in with even more sass and delaying your work.

“Or you could come work…” Crowley started again as he gently massaged his now free right wrist, but before he could even get the words out, you held up a hand. Both in refusal, and because the voice you’d hoped you wouldn’t hear until you were safely out of range of the nightclub was coming through loud and clear in your ear; Sam.

“(Y/N), two of them are coming your way. Couldn’t stop ‘em. Dean…” 

Zoning out whatever orders Sam had for your hitter, you quickly turned on your heel to face the door Crowley had been eyeing warily just moments earlier. If you’d been alone, you’d be able to evade them easily. But you weren’t, and you doubted Crowley could just poof out of the room while you ran for cover. No matter how much he dressed like a budget cruise ship magician.

Your only choice was the rear entrance. 

Which was probably also the entrance Dean would be rushing in through to provide you backup based on the few words you caught between Sam and him. With any luck, you’d reach the door before the mobsters came to check up on Crowley. Or at the very least, you’d have Dean providing some cover fire for you while you got the hell out of dodge.

“Get moving Crowley, we’ll have company any minute now,” You hissed towards the mobster who quickly got to his feet and looked to you for direction. Looking wide eyed and lost as he stood frozen in place, eyes focused on the main door. Which had you once more rolling your eyes at the clueless Scotsman.

“The back door! What are you waiting for? A fucking invitation?” You stage whispered as you nodded towards the door at the other end of the dance floor behind Crowley’s chair. 

Pushing him forward, you followed closely behind him across the open, empty concept of the former nightclub’s main floor. Fuck, you hoped the goons coming to check weren’t carrying guns. There was barely any cover to hide behind at all. Though, if it came down to it, you’d totally use Crowley as a meat shield. Because fuck that.

You weren’t getting shot just because that fucking idiot wanted to play Cinderella at the ball with a shiny new suit in the middle of a damn con.

“Where’s your backup?” Crowley’s question was staggered and broken between heavy breaths as he hurried towards the back entrance, at much too slow a speed for your liking. 

“I’m not really the… Fighting type,“ He clarified when you chose to keep running instead of answering him. Urging him forward with a not so gentle push, you kept your ears peeled for the sound of the door behind you opening, or the booted stomps of some cartoonishly large goons chasing after you. 

You just knew they’d be cartoonishly large. It was part of the damn ‘goon’ job description. You were nearly 99% sure the big bads of the world came together once a year to have goon casting calls. To find the biggest and baddest next generation of villainous himbos to do their bidding through some criminal parody of the X-Factor.

“Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. You just keep running,” You huffed back as you eyed the rear entrance. You were nearly home free. Yet, just as soon as the thought struck you, you heard the unmistakable click of a door opening somewhere behind you. Followed closely by the surprised shout leaving the angry mobster as he spotted you across the dance floor.

“I think you mean cards,” Crowley shot back with just a hint of that same snark. Before the sight of the goons charging towards him, and by extension you, finally lit a fire under him making the mobster speed up. Sprinting towards the door at a speed that could have gotten you the hell out of dodge before the damned goons showed up. But of course he waited to become fucking Flash Gordon until the threat of more oily cloths being stuffed down his gullet became very real. 

Fucking typical. 

“Nope… I mean knives,” You spat between sharp breaths as you dug out one of the throwing knives you’d stashed in your sleeves while still up on the roof, spinning on your heel to get the biggest, baddest and maddest goon into view before throwing the small, lethally sharp knife at one of your two pursuers. 

He was, of course, just as cartoonishly large as you’d suspected him to be. Which made him an easy target for your pretty much perfected marksmanship. Hitting him in the upper thigh, you grinned as the big guy stumbled over his own feet in shock. Clutching at his injury, he growled at you once, before his legs failed him and he crumbled to the floor with a muted scream.

With any luck, on his side, the deep cut to his femoral artery wouldn’t kill him. But he definitely wouldn’t be able to walk for the next few weeks.

Biting back the need to shout timber as the big lug fell, you dug out another knife and threw it at goon number two as you kept running backwards towards the door. Not taking as much time to line up your shot, since the second giant was quickly gaining on you. Your knife flew towards his knee, but after seeing his colleague crumble, the big guy was on the lookout for more of your little stabby projectiles, and just barely dodged it as he kept rushing towards you. 

Fuck.

Just as you were about to take out another of your precious knives to waste on the damned slippery bastard rushing you, the room, and goon, in front of you was suddenly bathed in light. The sharp light blinded the goon for just long enough that you could turn to face the source of it. Sighing in relief you squinted towards the sudden brightness spilling into the slightly dim nightclub from the rear entrance. 

The cavalry was here. 

Leaving your knife in your sleeve, you shot Dean a grateful grin. Even though you couldn’t fully see him, just the outline of him; all bowlegs and muscle. In front of you, however, Crowley nearly came to a full stop as you crashed into him. 

Seemingly not realizing that the only creature on God’s green earth with such a damned near perfect silhouette was Dean Winchester. But… Then again, Crowley was probably not constantly daydreaming about the Greek God of a mercenary like you were. Though you wouldn’t put it past him. You had seen him attempting to flirt his way into getting Dean to join his crew more than once.

“Idiot! That’s our backup!” You hissed at the mobster, pulling him forward by the arm. Before just as quickly forcing his head down with a rough hand as you watched Dean line up his shot from in front of you as the goon behind you started charging forward again. The gleam of the silencer nearly blinded you fully as you crouched low and kept running for safety. Reaching Dean just as the slight whistle of the silencer signaled that the bullet had left the barrel and buried itself in the shoulder of the mobster that was still standing. 

Looking up at Dean from where you were crouched next to him, you raised an eyebrow. Dean was an excellent shot. But that one didn’t match his style. A shot to the shoulder wouldn’t take that giant of a man down fast enough for you to get away. Yet, before you could question your sharpshooter, you watched as the second goon came to a full stop. His feet unsteady under him as a hand went up to his shoulder; a look of anger, tainted by complete confusion on his big dumb face. Before he promptly, and not-so-gracefully, fell flat on that very same face. 

“Tranquilizer pellets, Charlie and I’s latest invention. Forget knocking out an elephant, one of these bad boys pack enough punch to knock out the whole damn zoo,” Dean grinned in answer to your unspoken question. The smile made the seasoned mercenary look much younger, as green eyes shone with the joy of getting to play with one of his toys. 

Though he might be a trained mercenary and one of the most dangerous men on the planet, at his core, he was still just a big kid. And the bigger the gun, the happier Dean Winchester was. 

“Please don’t tell me Charlie thought those up to knock me out the next time I decide to just say fuck it and have 6 espresso shots in one coffee again?” You asked, ignoring Crowley’s protest as you nearly shouldered him out the door. Too focused on Dean’s carefree smile to even bother looking over at the damsel you’d just saved. 

“Can’t tell you sweetheart. I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Dean shot back with a laugh as he shut the rear entrance behind you and placed a warm hand at the small of your back, leading you forward as you tugged Crowley along by one of his stupid tailored suit sleeves. 

“I knew it,” You huffed jokingly before letting your smile drop as you looked back towards the still thankfully shut rear entrance. 

Time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Sam, the job’s done. Mind calling us an uber?” You called out into the headset, knowing the younger Winchester would have been listening in and was probably already on his way from your earlier comments to Dean. 

“Already on my way, get back down the road, half a block away. I just saw the rest of them run into the nightclub, so hurry. They’ll start swarming soon,” 

The sound of Sam’s truck door slamming shut acted as the full stop to his sentence as you started speeding up. As soon as Sam’s words reached you, Dean’s hand applied some pressure to the small of your back, rushing you forward as you both decided to ignore your much slower third wheel while hurrying away from the not-so-abandoned nightclub. 

Crowley, however, seemed to have gotten the message as he quickly tried to fall back into step with you. Ignoring the hard look Dean sent him as he instead grinned at you between huffs of air. 

“Going back to what I was saying before we were so… Rudely interrupted,” He said between breaths as he struggled to keep up with Dean’s much speedier steps where the hitter was nearly pushing you down the road. God, even when running he had to take the time to be obnoxious. Instead of saving his breath for, well, breathing. Which the normally desk bound mobster seemed to sorely need to focus on. 

“No,” Your tone was flat and clipped as you cut him off again. Not wanting to hear more of his bullshit as you longed for the relative safety of Sam’s truck, and the far off future where you no longer had to listen to the king of sass. 

“I’m just saying darling… You seemed so worried for my safety in there. Things like that… Move a man,” He continued, despite your quite clear rejection. Completely ignoring the burning looks Dean was sending him, though it was much harder for you to ignore, as Dean’s hand that had previously rested softly on your lower back snaked around your waist to pull you closer to his side and away from Crowley. Making it much harder for you to sprint forward and away from danger.

“You can take that job offer and shove it…” Before you could finish spelling out your creative new filing system idea to Crowley, you were interrupted by the squeal of tires as Sam’s big truck pulled up next to you.

“Get inside, now,” 

The urgency in Sam’s tone was doubly underlined by the shouts coming from back at the nightclub, where the rest of the mobsters had seemingly found their knocked out buddies and were busy flooding out of the back entrance of the building. 

Swallowing your words, you instead let your irritation fuel you as you wrenched open the door before, unceremoniously, shoving Crowley inside the backseat. Frowning as you realized you would have to sit next to him, you still slid out of Dean’s hold on you and into the backseat of the truck after the mobster. 

However, as you reached for the door to wrench it back shut, Dean stopped you with a big hand holding the door open. His green eyes were still burning a hole in Crowley, who barely even seemed to notice him as he was busy trying to remember how to breathe. Before sending you a weary eyed look after shooting a final round of daggers at Crowley as he shut the car door and ran around to the passenger side. 

---

As soon as Dean slid into his seat, Sam gunned it down the road. Not caring if the loud roar of the car engine caught the attention of the mobsters that had now flooded into the street half a block back. 

You were home free. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes to take stock of your losses. You’d managed to grab your backpack. But the new ropes for your shiny new harness were lost. As were two of your favorite knives. Bastards. Maybe you could take it out of Crowley’s paycheck? It was his fault after all. 

As you opened your eyes to suggest that the costs of the rescue mission would come out of Crowley’s commission, you were instead left tongue tied. As Dean’s brilliant green eyes cut off your words where he’d twisted in his seat to throw you one of those unfair boyish grins that always knocked the breath out of you. 

Damn him and his… Everything. 

“Nice work (Y/N),” He grinned. Still completely ignoring Crowley next to you, as his whole body radiated with the adrenaline of getting away more or less unscathed. By the time the two guys that had clocked you had time to share your descriptions with the rest of Evil Inc. they’d all be behind bars anyway. 

“Of course! Did you ever doubt me?” You shot back, mirroring his adrenaline fuelled smile with one of your own. Now that you’d made it safely out of there, you were practically bouncing in your seat from the straight shot of energy to your veins that a good getaway always gave you. 

“Yes… Yes we did. Several times… Actually, we doubt you most of the time,” Sam shot back as he focused on the road. Only looking away to send you that tried and tested shiteating grin that only little brothers had perfected through the rear-view mirror.

Yet, before you could throw some insults back his way, the proverbial elephant in the room decided he had to be the center of attention. Which honestly was nothing new. Sometimes you swore Crowley was a figment of your collective imaginations, and if he didn’t make you pay attention to him, he’d just fade from existence. 

Though you knew that was all just wishful thinking on your end. 

“She was… A vision. I offered her a job you know? With certain benefits,” Crowley shot in, sending you a sleazy wink. 

It was his turn to ignore Dean. Pretending he didn’t see the daggers the trained mercenary was sending his way. The mobster was clearly playing with fire. If the look Dean was sending him was anything to go by, your hitter was only seconds away from ripping his spine out through his throat. And that was a very real threat when coming from the Dean Winchester.

Though, even with his death imminent so soon after you saved him, you didn’t like Crowley enough to warn him. As you instead resorted to just audibly gagging at his words in lieu of another no. Since the word didn’t seem to exist in his dictionary anyway. A visible shudder running through you at the thought of working for the mobster. You’d already been someone’s thieving little lap dog and you were done with that life thank-you-very-much. 

“Ok, so the benefits can be negotiated. If nothing else, having someone who can remove a pair of handcuffs in just a few seconds could be very useful…” And though it seemed like he meant it like an actual offer, you weren’t an idiot. It didn’t really take a genius to hear the clear sexual innuendo in his words. The insufferable bastard just wouldn’t stop. 

“She’s busy,” Dean shot back instead of you. As if he thought you were incapable of turning down what was clearly a bad job yourself. Hell, you’d rather work as a damn unpaid intern than get paid stacks of money to work for Crowley. 

Which, actually… 

Technically your current gig was unpaid. Some jobs just also happened to line your pockets when you were getting money back from the bad guys. They were bonuses, really, not a steady paycheck. So you really would rather work pro bono than for the figurative devil next to you. 

“Not. Interested. I work for the good guys now, not scum,” You spat back, sending Dean a little smug smirk as if you showed him by shutting Crowley down. Which was the weirdest thing to be smug about, but hell… You’d had someone speaking for you every day of your life until you were 15, and you weren’t on the look out for a new puppet master. Not now, not ever. 

“But bad is good! I don’t know why you reacted so harshly in there. You should embrace your bad side; the world loves a bad girl… I know I for one do,” Crowley hummed as you cringed internally. Damn it, you’d known he would try to use your earlier outburst of anger against you. But it still took everything you had to not let the panic show on your features as you instead rolled your eyes at him. 

Ignoring Crowley’s endless ranting about how bad girls were the best thing since sliced bread, you instead turned to face Dean. Not wanting Crowley to repeat the words he’d said earlier, in case they would make Dean remember the gun range like you had, you kept your expression neutral as you spoke up over the damn mobster where he seemed moments away from composing an ode to wicked little women. 

You wouldn’t let Crowley mess up any more of your day. Not just when everything seemed fine between you and Dean… Or even better than fine! They seemed back to normal. 

“Dean… Can I borrow your gun?” Raising your volume to be heard over both the roar of the engine and the incessant chattering of your rescued damsel, you held your hand out and batted (Y/E/C) eyes at your hitter in mock innocence. 

“Sure sweetheart,” Dean said without missing a beat, reaching across his body to unholster one of his many firearms, before stopping his hand midair right as he was about to hand you the loaded weapon. A raised eyebrow and soft smirk telling you he knew the answer to his question before he’d even asked it. 

“... Why?” 

“Let me shoot him,” You growled back, sending a head nod in Crowley’s direction as you tried to reach for the gun that Dean was keeping just out of your reach. The threat of violence finally shutting Crowley up as Dean shook his head with a chuckle. 

“Not until after we finish this job (Y/N), and not in my car,” Sam shot in, not wanting to risk his older brother agreeing with you that violence was, as always, the answer when dealing with Crowley’s kind. 

“Damn it… You’re no fun,” Pouting you crossed your arms and sank back into your seat like a petulant child. It was gonna be a long ride. And, considering you’d have to interrogate the Scotsman to find out how the hell he managed to get himself caught, it was shaping up to be an awful day. 

So much for Charlie’s magical Princess Leia buns. The fates, and that sadistic bitch, mother nature, had once more decided tormenting you was their ultimate favorite pastime. 

Oh joy…

Start Here - Last - Next (Coming soon)

Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510 @mimaria420

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @djs8891 @pink-sparkly-witch

[otrtbs]

The day life gets tags is the day I start reading tags. Do you know where I was when I read the mcd in ahb? I was in a physics class where I then started crying and the professor stopped the lesson to ask if I was okay. And I wouldn't have changed a single thing about that moment.

you get the vibes!!!!! u get the vibes!!!!!

lmfaoo so sorry to cause a physics cry sesh. tbh i also cried in physics but bc it was hard and i was clueless in that class so im sure your prof has seen it before hahaha

[iprobablyshipit91]

iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs

So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕

There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.

Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester x Reader

Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty

Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23

Slip Up by @deanwritings

Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney

Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic

Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1

I’ve Got You by @spnexploration

Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia

Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse

Sharing is Caring by @zepskies

Mini Date by @avanatural

The Talk by @avanatural

And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots

Nows the Time by @crashdevlin

Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch

Capeesh? By @deanwritings

I Ship It by @deanwritings

It’s Okay by @deanwritings

Safe Now by @deanwritings

What We Lost by @deanwritings

Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer

Glances by @kasimagines

It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines

Poison by @kasimagines

Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage

Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage

Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Something New by @princessmisery666

Date Night by @princessmisery666

I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines

Frayed Ends by @scuttling

Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester

Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e

Promises by @supersleepygoat

Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89

Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89

Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Different by @watermelonlipstick

Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse

Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse

Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse

Dark Waters by @wearywinchester

Above Ground by @wearywinchester

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie

The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14

Good Things by @crashdevlin

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons

Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch

Blind Love by @jawritter

Faded by @kasimagines

Sacrifice by @kasimagines

The Last Call by @kasimagines

To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch

Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx

A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry

Familiar by @spnhunter4life

Dream On by @talesmaniac89

Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89

If You Want it to Be by @zepskies

Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies

Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton

Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton

Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton

In the Dark by Alisha Ashton

Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder

Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings

Night Falls by @deanwritings

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

Carry On by @jawritter

My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing

The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch

The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch

Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94

The Arrangement by @ravengirl94

Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat

Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Collared by @spnexploration

Pack by @spnexploration

Limelight by @talesmaniac89

Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79

Miscommunication by @winchest09

Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

[deancasbigbang]

Baby's Driver

Author: entropic_saudade

Artist: Sketcheun

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Past Bobby Singer/Karen Singer, Past Bobby Singer/Crowley,

Length: 141699

Warnings: Major Archive Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence Other Warnings: Alcohol Use, Recreational Drug Use (Marijuana), Gun Violence, Canon-Typical Child Abuse, Canon Character Death, Minor Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Illness , Medical Treatment, Ableism, Kidnapping, References to Torture, PTSD, Canon-Typical Trauma

Tags: Heists, Music, Neurodivergent-Coded Characters, Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Car Chases, The Mixtape, The J-Turn, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean has been working as a getaway driver for Crowley for 14 years, and has survived by developing a few simple rules: always pick the right music, keep an eye on the time, never give out his real name, and most importantly, make no personal connections with anyone on the job. Making no personal connections with anyone new is easy when he has difficulty talking in his own words. Enter Cas, who, in order to pay for his nephew Jack’s life-saving medical treatment, decides to break bad by joining Crowley’s operations. Unlike most of his brothers, he’s new to the world of crime, but their driver’s skills and quiet demeanor have a way of reassuring him. Throughout the course of several months, their rules fall to the wayside as they fall for each other, each unable to say the words ‘I love you’ for differing reasons. Cas’ past family life complicates things when Lucifer comes around wanting to know how Cas is getting the money to pay for Jack’s treatment. Everything comes to a head when Dean is kidnapped for one final job. A Baby Driver-inspired AU.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

[gabriels-golden-kazoo]

I’m thinking someone needs to write a really stupid heist au with Cas and Gabriel who are somehow these big time criminals who only work with their family, but then Anna decides to get out, Lucifer gets arrested and then Michael and Raphael decide they are too old for this shit and retire.

This leaves Cas and Gabriel in search of at least one last score and Cas is like, well I might know a guy and up rocks their new getaway driver, Dean Winchester and his brother Sam who is new to the game but definitely got the brains to pull off whatever extravagant mark Gabriel has come up with.

[astralpenguin]

a list of all the supernatural fics i’ve posted in 2022:

i tried to kill dean winchester and all i got was this lousy t-shirt 17k, gen, T

claire and jack touch the wrong thing in the bunker and get sent back in time to the events of 7.13, and they can’t leave things as they are

don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay 1.5k, gen, G

claire’s pov of s4-s7

you know that it’s over (nothing left for you here) 2k, gen, T

emma’s pov of the events immediately preceding knocking on dean’s door in 7.13

written for emma winchester week 2022

it’s a pretty brutal ride (but you’re safe) 2k, gen, T

an alive post-canon emma’s musings on her relationships with various members of her new family

written for emma winchester week 2022 & aspecnatural week 2022

we’re safe here under the sheets 1k, castiel/dean winchester, T

castiel’s thoughts on his relationship with dean and his own asexuality, while dean sleeps next to him in bed

written for aspecnatural week 2022

who am i supposed to be 1.8k, gen, T

mary and castiel talk about mary’s aromanticism and heaven’s control over her

written for aspecnatural week 2022

we ditch the whole scene 1.6k, gen, T

emma and jack visit patience at stanford, and they’re all aroace

written for aspecnatural week 2022

something good and right and real 2k, gen, T

benjamin and his vessel start talking to each other

Here We Go Again 10k, gen, T

castiel gets forced out of his vessel on a hunt gone wrong and claire offers to let him possess them for a little while. a lot of talk about gender, heaven’s failed plans, and claire and castiel’s history with one another, ensues

written for the supernatural trans bang 2022

if at first you don’t succeed 1.8k, gen, T

sam’s pov of s3-s4 placed alongside sam’s pov of s7-s8, highlighting how sam learned from his mistakes and yet was still somehow wrong

every single thing to come (has turned into ashes) 1.5k, castiel/dean winchester, G

a confession anniversary fic in which two years later they’re still no closer to getting castiel back

taking off into the night 7k, ava wilson/bela talbot, M

ava lives. she uses her newfound demonic powers to lie low from the winchesters, and ends up helping bela with a heist

written for @supersapphical for fandom trumps hate!

the road to hell 1k, gen, M

sam’s pov of the events of 7.13 in a slight au where the bodies of amazons revert to their true ages upon their death

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

For those in the US, today is Mother's Day. If you are a mother to anyone to anything, whether human, furry, scaly, or otherwise, we hope you have a great day without any yellow-eyed demons!

Old Business:

The Winchesters was officially cancelled by the CW, but Jensen has put out the call for the fandom to fight to give it a new home! Be sure to show your support by using the hashtag #SaveTheWinchesters on all of your social media posts, as well as watching the show on HBO Max. In news semi-unrelated to SPN, Walker: Independence was also cancelled, as well as Kung Fu (written by Bobo Berens from SPN), while Walker was renewed for a 13-episode season. No news, yet, about Gotham Knights. Although the Pond stays firmly in the SPN universe, we support our favorite SPN folks and their new endeavors!

We had two sessions of Competitive Writing Sprints and lots of writers won fabulous prizes while adding words to their WIPs! The next set will probably in a couple of weeks, so keep an eye out for announcements with dates and times!

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompt (via @writerswritecompany) was:

"This one gives me post-apocalyptic AU feels, for some reason." - Admin Michelle

New Business:

Jason Manns & Hayden Lee will livestream their show at The Heist via Stageit on Friday at 5:20PM Eastern US time. Jason Manns is best known to SPN fans as the singer/songwriter whose song, Vision, plays in the Impala during episode 4.01. (You know, the song that makes Dean rip out the iPod dock Sam had installed.) Click here for more info and to buy a ticket!

Manta Ray in the discord server! A few hours after Jason & Hayden's show, @katbratsupernaturalwhore will be hanging out in the discord server for an hour. Come join her and talk about whatever's on your mind!

Fishing for Treasures weekend is next weekend! This month, we're focusing on ships, especially rare pairs. Submit links to the blog, or drop a link in the #fishing-for-treasures channel in the discord server and we'll reblog your fics next weekend. Deadline to submit is Friday night at midnight, Eastern US time!

Know of a bang or writing challenge that you think we should signal boost? Send us an ASK or send a message to one of our admins and we'll do it!

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! We try to keep it as up to date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, or cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @princessmisery666, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @katbratsupernaturalwhore!

[bsideminibang]

Title: Only Physical

Author: @nickelkeep

Artist: @rapscallion

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Friends with Benefits, Idiots to Lovers, Cas and Dean need to use their words, Team Everyone Switches Forever

Posting Date: September 5

Summary: Cas and Dean have been best friends for as long as Cas can remember. He's always wanted more, and when he and Dean slip into the friends with benefits category, he knew he could be satisfied with that. Until he wasn't.

Keep reading for an short excerpt:

Cas sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. He didn’t need to look out the peephole to know who was on the other side. He steeled himself, determined to make sure that this was the time he asked those three little words that tickled at the back of his mind: What are we?

“Hey, Sunshine.” Dean’s smile was blinding as Cas pulled the door open. He stepped inside, almost as though he owned the place, kicking off his boots and setting them neatly next to the door.

Just like always.

“How was your day, Dean?” Cas shut the door and stared at it for a moment before looking over at Dean. His best friend was hanging up his well-worn, well-loved weather jacket on a hook that Cas left open for him.

Just like always.

“It was awesome, actually. Had a ‘67 Shelby GT500 in the shop today.” Dean’s smile grew broader as he started talking about his work. “She wasn’t grey, so I can’t call her Eleanor, but she was this sleek as hell pearl white, with blue stripes. I think her owner was trying to copy the Super Snake.”

Cas just nodded as he locked the door. He snuck a glance toward his room, silently hoping that Dean wouldn’t make a beeline back there. “Eleanor is the name of the car from that heist movie, right?”

[fandom-recs14]

All of Dean Winchester Masterpost 1 

Here are the complete list (SO FAR) of Dean Winchester Fanfiction in one whole master post!! Enjoy!

There are no separate sections for AU's.

This list is for those who want to read all Dean Winchester and do not care if some are AU's or not.

REMEMBER - none of these work are mine. This is a Recommendation Blog.

I will be adding in the authors name next to each work as I go along (if its empty don't worry I will write it in ASAP). Each link will take you to the work and you can follow the author from there if there is no link specific to author yet.

FICS IN TOTAL SO FAR:

PART ONE/PART TWO/PART THREE/PART FOUR/PART FIVE/PART SIX/PART SEVEN/PART EIGHT/PART NINE

A)

Accidentally in Love

Actions and Consequences

A King and His Queen

A Sky Full of Stars 

A Day Off

After Hours

Arrangement

Alone

Arcane

Another World

alpha and omega life

alpha please

after a hunt

A gentle scent

Afterglow

Alpha Forest

B)

Baby Girl 

Building a nest

Broken

Baby Winchester

Blood Ain’t Love

Blue Nightmares

baby got an eyeful

bitch, I might be

being dean’s soulmate

burning love

Baby, It’s Cold Outside 

Bad Dreams

Bruised and Battered

Bed of Roses

Beauty and the Beast

Barbarian (1)

C)

Creature Of The Night

Curses and Cuddles 

Careful What you Wish For

Charity Heist 

Chick Flicks

Come Home

Crimson and Clover

can’t handle the heat

claimed 

college

Cold Hearted

Changing Distance

[velvethopewrites]

This week’s fic offering is a charming AU that places Dean and Cas in the world of Firefly. And woo-boy is it fun!

Operative Word by CMS52990

Summary:

Dean Winchester and the crew of the Impala live on the shadier side of the law, scrounging and scavenging for paychecks that seem fewer and further between. But when a mysterious man who calls himself Castiel offers cash up-front for a one-way trip to an outer planet, Dean and his crew find themselves with a bit more Alliance trouble than they had bargained for. 

Is he really one of the deadly, fabled Operatives of folklore? Why do so many people want to kill him? What the hell is an Angel Tablet and why does he have it? And gorrammit, why can't Dean stop getting distracted by the asshole's eyes?

Featuring Castiel the SuperSpy, Dean the Gallant Captain, Crowley the Badger, Meg the Suicidally, Brilliantly Insane, and Sam, who is, of course, an Abomination.

I would imagine it is quite hard to mix two fandoms together. Especially two that are as distinctive as these. But this author merges the supernatural with the Firefly ‘verse seamlessly and it is quite the enjoyable read! I loved it - there is great characters, fantastic action and just enough da bianhua to let you know where you are.

You have Dean, Captain of the Impala with his rough and tumble crew: Sam, Bobby, Bela, Charlie and Meg. They all get along just as much as you’d suspect. Enter Castiel after they pull off a heist and oh boy, do the games begin. I absolutely cackled at the banter and dialogue in this fic. It’s grounded firmly in the Firefly verse while still being completely Supernatural as well. My favorite is Crowley, of course, especially since Mark Sheppard was on Firefly. It’s a nice little nod to both worlds.

The plot here is very organic and great to unfold - we have visits from Michael and Gabriel, as well as Kevin Tran. We have Castiel learning to feel for the first time in his life and we have Dean falling head over heels for him before he even realizes it. I honestly just ate this story up and it really made me want to dust off my (not really dusty) Firefly discs, so do with that what you will.

I adore Firefly, but you don’t really need to be a fan of it to enjoy this fic - that’s its greatest strength. The world sucks you in, regardless. I love getting into Dean’s motivations and thoughts here - it’s nice to see him work through stuff and also be supported by his kick ass crew. This is definitely a Supernatural story, have no fear. And it’s definitely a Dean and Castiel story.

Here’s one of my favorite exchanges that had me laughing for far too long:

The walk back to the Roadhouse went much slower without mental images of bright blue eyes and soft-looking lips to keep him company.  Dean had to settle for tormenting Sam mercilessly for the eyes he had been making at a pretty blonde medic at the Roadhouse the night before.  “Who knows,” he said, “if you’re lucky, she’ll be there tonight.  Maybe she’ll even braid your hair!”

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled.  “Anyway, you don’t see me teasing you for the eyes you’ve been making at Castiel.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Dean deadpanned.

“‘Oh, Castiel, you’re so strong and interesting, and you fight so gorram good!’” Sam sing-songed in a high-pitched voice.

“That supposed to be me?”

“‘Let’s fly around the ‘verse forever together and have medically impossible babies!’”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m your brother.”

“Asshole brother.”

See? Great dialogue! Love to see it. Brilliant sibling feels, lol.

I give this story Five out of Five Bees for being fantastically written, and for having sexy times that are hot and finally, for being set in the Firefly ‘verse, since I still love it. 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

May I also link to a short ficlet I wrote this last weekend? For @castideans-pie and their very inviting tags/post. Some day I promise I’ll write a multi-chaptered thing and have it posted on AO3 properly, but until then… have a bit o’fluff by yours truly.

Ficlet fun - Dean whispering to the angel next to him who literally cannot sleep….

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[talesmaniac89]

Charity Heist 5 - aka. The Swanky Party

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

Start Here - Last - Next

Time flies when you’re having fun trying to force your best friend into a dress and out amongst the public. 

Which was exactly what you’d spent the following day doing, between triple checking your gear, rereading the plans and calming Charlie. So, the day had flown by faster than you could say ‘party people’ (which, coincidentally, you were not), and it was finally the night of the evil shindig slash fundraiser. 

Fiend-raiser? Hell, close enough...

Your little team was geared up and ready to enter the belly of the beast. All dressed in your finest clothes like you were fucking Cinderella and friends at the ball. If Cinderella had earpieces, button cams and guns…  

And the closest you came to a fairy godmother was Bobby. Who probably wouldn’t really like hearing you referring to him as your fairy godmother. Even though you did feel indebted to him for letting you become part of the Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency, a part of the family. 

Your Cinderella comparison kinda fell apart when you involved Crowley however. Was he supposed to be the evil stepmother? The cat? Lucifer was a fitting moniker for the self-proclaimed king of the underground. Or maybe the pumpkin turned carriage that brought you to the party? Either way, the greased up Scotsman had been in top form as far as sass went the whole pre-party briefing. 

Making comments about your less-than-fairytale-princess choice of dress and eyeing you up in a way that once more brought back Dean’s protective big brother rage. And left you feeling less than ready to party from the reminder that he saw you as family, nothing more. Even when you’d dressed to absolutely freaking slay.

After all, your fashion choices were nothing like Cinderella’s; nowhere near as shiny and poofy.

You had opted for sleek, short and black. The dress was easy to move in, which was paramount to any outfit you wore on missions. Hugging your curves tight in a way that seemed more painted on than actual cloth as it flowed down your body before stopping right above the knee. The deep open back, paired with your (Y/H/C) hair in an elegant updo that highlighted your neck and framed your face, left little space to hide your tools. But luckily you had a walking, talking handbag called Dean Winchester with you. So, past a few small toys and a set of throwing knives strapped to your thigh, he’d helped bring in the rest. 

Ahead of you, Charlie was wearing a stunning red dress that you’d helped her pick out from the large treasure trove of recon outfits hiding in the bunker. Contrasting beautifully against her pale skin and easily long enough to hide her little gadgets. With a convenient slit down the side so she could get to the card stripper strapped to her thigh without anyone catching on.

The boys… Well, the boys were sadly not in dresses, but in their usual high end tuxedos used for cons of this type. Lucky bastards even had flat shoes on. Damn how you hated the dressy undercover missions. You were much more comfortable in sneakers, infiltration clothes, and harnesses - rather than stilettos, push up bras, and cocktail dresses.

“You ready?” Dean’s voice echoed as it reached you both directly and in your earpiece. His green eyes rested on you and you could feel the heat of the large hand that was softly sliding down your lower back, but you knew he wasn’t really speaking to you. 

No, the question, that you still pretended to answer with a nod and a smile in case someone overheard, was meant for Sam. Situated across the street in the apartment you’d acquired yesterday (not all that ‘legally’ mind you) to use as your base of operation for the night. Dean’s eyes only betrayed that fact with a small, nearly missable glance to the side. In the direction away from the glitz and the glamor that was drawing the eyes of the crowd around you.

“Yeah, I have eyes on you. As soon as you reach the door sensors they’ll stop workin’. You’ll be able to get in with all your weapons and tech without setting off anything,” Sam’s voice came through loud and clear in your ear as you kept a fake smile plastered on your lips. Your back straight and eyes focused on the damned mansion ahead as you pretended that your heart wasn’t about to beat out of your chest from the proximity of a certain criminally handsome (no pun intended) Dean Winchester. 

Not only was he standing close enough to steal your breath away with the slight spice and leather scent of his aftershave. But his hand would reach out at seemingly random times to brush against your arm or rest against your bare lower back, leading you forward through the crowds of partygoers that had all seemingly decided to show up at the exact same time. 

Alicia was the type of woman that was used to being escorted around, unlike your own fierce independence. And since your cover for the night was as Dean’s date, that meant he was always within reach, ready to slide calloused fingers against your electrically sensitive skin. 

Hell, even your cover; not a side piece, or a girlfriend. Just… A date. It was as painfully vague as the rest of Alicia Cooper’s background story. Which meant Dean had full freedom to interpret that as he saw fit while he escorted you towards the line in front of the door, right behind Charlie and Cas.

“And are we sure we can trust the green giant with this? I thought he knew his greens and veggies, not… Technology,” Crowley’s voice was low as it reached you through the small piece of silicone in your ear. The damned man always had to season every social situation with sass. That British humor really wasn’t your cup of tea (pun totally intended). 

“Yes Crowley, we can… Charlie and Sam created the damned software we’re using to hack into the system and I trust ‘em more than you,” Dean shot back before his younger brother could defend himself. As always playing the protective big brother, no matter the enemy. The smile on his lips contrasting with the whispered words as you pretended to straighten his tie to give him a reason to keep his head down.

“And even so, my tech is great. I made it to be undetectable, even the chips I added to your weapons and the alloy (Y/N)’s knives are made out of. The sensors wouldn’t pick them up even if they were military grade,” Charlie pouted from ahead of you. You didn’t need to look over at her to know she was moping. Though you knew Castiel would do a good job playing it off as her being a slightly demanding date; bored of waiting in line.

She’d considered the extra precaution of momentarily shutting down the sensors as unnecessary from the start. Her little gadgets were like her babies. To her the extra measure was a direct blow to her ego and, worse yet, her toys.

“We trust you and your awesome gear Char, it’s just a precaution,” You shot in with a smile that was aimed at Charlie, but shared with Dean as you brushed some non-existent dust off of his shoulders. Before allowing him to straighten back up and put a large, strong hand low on your back again, where the dress met with bare skin. The direct touch of calloused fingers against slightly chilled skin sending little shots of electricity through you that threatened to blow a fuse in your brain. 

Which was… Less than ideal. After all, you needed all your fuses functioning if you were gonna pull the job off in the middle of the damn snake pit masquerading as a party.

“Enough of the squabbling kids,” Sam said through your earpiece, which honestly made you want to squabble more, since he was younger than you. Still you kept your mouth shut as the kid kept speaking. Silently plotting a revenge that involved exchanging his protein shaker collection with Disney themed sippy cups and maybe sneaking a few bibs into his closet for good measure. 

Kids… 

You’d show him who the actual baby of the team was.

“This is the entry plan we decided on. Cas, Charlie; you guys are next in line, together with Crowley. Behave. Sensors shut down in three, two, one…”

---

To quote the poets of days long past; the party was nice, the party was bumpin’. 

Ok, so that was the Baha Men… But quoting pop music from the 2000s always annoyed Dean, who insisted the only real music was classic rock. So, you’d developed a habit of doing it. Since your style of flirting was a little less Casanova and a hell of a lot more kindergarten hair pulling. 

Though, truthfully, the party was more fancy than nice, and more classical music and people talking about their yachts than bumpin’. Which in turn, made it so totally not your scene. You liked your parties to be bumpin’, just like you liked your bad decisions to be fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline. 

You were a simple woman, with simple needs. Fancy, wasn’t one of ‘em.

Groups of wealthy men and women stood in small circles scattered across the polished tiles and spoke in polite low tones about how much money they had in offshore bank accounts and how amazing it was of them to bypass their evil deeds and greed to give what to them was considered pocket change to the poor and needy in return for tax breaks and untraceable laundered cash. Or maybe they were talking about their villain lairs; complete with white cats, swivel chairs and shark pools, or something… 

Hell, it was all the same to you. You could barely focus on taking a step forward with Dean’s hand so securely around your waist. Which was real bad… You had to focus. 

Across the large open space, you could already see Castiel working the room and talking to the sleaziest of sleazebags with Crowley. His hands easily dipping into pockets to get wallets and ID cards as his words and smiles made them share little tidbits of information about themselves that allowed Sam to work his magic across the street. 

Cas could probably charm the pants of a nun. Though you’d rather he didn’t aim to prove you right. Considering he was a very vocal atheist, claiming there were just ‘too many caveats in faith’, it just seemed extra blasphemic to even consider letting him near a nun. Since he’d probably take it as a challenge. Though he did have to pose as a priest on a con once; which you took great pleasure in reminding him of whenever the opportunity arose. 

Father Simmons had been the least pieous priest that small backwater town had ever seen, but at least you’d managed to infiltrate the cult. Shutting it down and proving to the town, and the world, that the religious fanatisism had just been a cover for human trafficking. Like a Scooby Doo episode; only instead of pulling off the monster’s mask to reveal a ‘Mr. Creeps’ you’d revealed an even bigger monster.

All thanks to Castiel’s brilliant work charming his way into the cult. And of course, Charlie’s techy backup sleuthing that had helped you find, and rescue, the victims.

This time however, Charlie’s work was a little less background and a lot more field work. As she had left Castiel’s side, as planned, to plant a few cameras that would allow Sam to have eyes in the house as well. Since you’d need other angles than the in-house security system that your two wunderkids had already hacked. 

Only doubling back from time to time to take the cards off of Cas’ hands and skim the information through the card reader she’d attached to her thigh or by scanning it with the button cam hidden in the brooch on her dress. Before a small giggly touch of her date’s shoulder had the card right back in Castiel’s hand to deposit it back into pockets before the mark even noticed anything was wrong. 

Even Dean was hard at work; whispering guard numbers and visible weapon types through the earpiece. 

Hell, you were the only one not fully focused. Which was bad. Considering the heist kinda, sorta relied on you finding the damned safe. You had to stop acting like a fucking teenager, high on daydreams and drunk on wine coolers and instead be (Y/N); super thief extraordinaire. 

That’s why you were there after all. Your job was to find the fucking safe, as well as scope out possible entrances and exits for the actual heist. Your job was definitely not to stand around like a complete greenhorn and think about all the things you wished Dean’s hands would do to you. Oh, no sirree, that job was for late nights under the covers (Y/N), not master finangler of all things shiny (Y/N). 

Priorities... First you’d trick the mafia and take all their not-so-hard-earned money, then you’d have some hot and heavy me-time. Never the other way around. It just wasn’t proper work-place etiquette. 

“Let’s start casing the other rooms. We’re too out in the open, no hiding spots. For us or for a safe,” You spoke the words under your breath. 

Slipping away from Dean’s hand, you took his hand in yours instead. Pulling him along further into the room with a louder giggle that seemed like it’d suit Alicia perfectly. Past the wandering eyes of bored upper-class wives that were not even trying to hide how they were devouring the man by your side.And out of earshot of their partners’ ‘economically pornographic’-conversations. Their husbands looked like they were about to straight up orgasm whenever someone said inflation or money laundering and it was… Disturbing.

“Castiel, see that big guy with the obvious toupee and suit jacket that’s two sizes too small? Yeah, he’s one of the big sharks in the criminal cesspool. Might wanna go introduce yourself,” Sam’s voice came through your earpiece just as you rounded the corner into the next room, which was just as flooded with human monsters flaunting their riches as every other room. 

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder you saw Castiel start to move, Crowley right beside him. Your inside man’s muttered complaint about being able to tell Cas that without Sam’s interference easily reached you, even from halfway across the room, through the vibration based earpieces. 

Seriously, those things could pick up people’s wandering musings and dirty daydreams if you’d wanted them to. Which you really didn’t. Your mind was already a rambled mess without outside interference thank-you-very-much. 

Still, except for the unnecessary running commentary, big bad had come through for you. The guy hadn’t only gotten you tickets to the underground party masquerading as a Charity Fundraiser, but he’d also ensured to namedrop Castiel’s cover name as a “top investor”. So Cas had every way in to shake hands and stroke egos. Leaving the rest of you free to do your jobs and scope the place out. 

“Charlie, great job on the cameras and mics, that’s the last one. Make your way back to the main room to back up Cas and Crowley,” Sam’s voice continued to give orders over the earpieces, though none of you ever complained. 

No matter how much your stubborn crew could butt heads before a heist, during the actual job you’d always listen to Sam. The guy was like a chess master and you were his little criminal chess pieces. If you did as he told you to, you’d make it out of any sticky situation just fine. 

“People keep trying to talk to me. I’m not good with this undercover stuff,” Charlie groaned in response. Yet, as you finished walking through the other room and moved out to the dining room area, you still caught sight of her red dress disappearing through the door back to the main hall. Soldiering up and doing her duty even through her massive fear of social interactions. 

“You do your LARPs and conventions, just do what you do there,” Dean chuckled next to you. The deep vibrations of that low laugh delivered right to your ear nearly made you stumble over your own feet with a sudden case of vertigo. 

“I’m someone else when I LARP, I’m a queen. Same with cosplaying; Wonder Woman can talk to people… Me? Not so much,” Charlie’s voice sounded panicked over the little earpiece and you wished you could go help her, but you had to stay in your role and do your job. 

You had a safe to find, and unfortunately it was nowhere to be found. The dining room was clear too, and you were running out of places to look for the damned thing. Though you’d basically already mentally mapped out their whole downstairs security system and at least 7 exit strategies. So there was that.

“You’ll be fine Char, after we get through this we’ll go to your favorite comic book shop, I promise,”  You said with a small smile, catching Dean smiling at your words as well.

“Ok, alright… I can do this. For comic books and funko pops,” Charlie’s words were punctuated by a few deep breaths and one or two muttered creative swear words. But you knew she’d do her part and she’d do a hell of a good job of it too.

“That’s our girl, Charlie,” Sam’s voice was less master commander and more big brother as his warm chuckle came in over the comms system, before it returned to its serious tone and your strange little family was once again all business. 

“Dean, check the guys by the door, I’m seeing what looks like a holster on one of Charlie’s cameras,”

--- 

You’d scoped out the whole bottom floor, which was massive, but disappointing. Not when it came to things worth stealing mind you. With the exception of the one forgery you’d clocked the day before, everything else was actual originals. You could buy an island from the value of the art displayed on the walls alone. But there were no safes, anywhere. 

Damn it. 

Sure, you’d done the other parts of your job, but you needed that safe. Bobby was working hard on the backup plan and Castiel had gathered up enough info for you to be able to pull a turnabout if it came to it and pit the criminals up against each other. But that was still plan B, and plan B wasn’t perfect. 

Plan A had been... Perfect that was. Until the whole issue with there not being a damned safe on the first floor like your insider information had promised you there would be. 

Petty crooks; you didn’t trust ‘em any further than you could throw ‘em... No, scratch that, you could throw people pretty damned far. As far as Crowley could throw ‘em. Yeah… The guy was an ultimate movie baddie, but he didn’t look like he could throw other bad guys all that far. Not only would that end up wrinkling his suit, but the man’s favorite super power seemed to be more sass, less Superman. 

However, just as you’d been about to inform the team of your failure to locate the safe, Sam’s voice interrupted you across the comms. Cutting off his own words to Cas about the hidden dealings of the corrupt politician in front of him that the grifter could use to twist the man around his little finger to instead speak to the whole group.

“Shit, ok… So five guys, including the main honcho, just came down from the second floor. I think our intel’s bad. The safe is probably up there. This isn’t the first time tonight I’ve seen people go up and down those stairs,” Sam’s words were met with strained silence as you all waited for the big guy to rework the plan for your entry and exit and work the new information into it all. 

It wouldn’t be easy, and even over the comms channel you could nearly feel the strained worry and tense backs of your team members. You had no cameras upstairs, so no matter the plan it was going to be a risk. 

Still, you needed eyes on that safe.

“(Y/N), I need you up there. It might be dangerous, so stay low and be careful,” Sam’s words were hesitant over the comms channel. The big guy never liked sending anyone from your group of merry men into a possible dangerous situation without a backup plan. But you had no choice. 

You wouldn’t get this chance a second time around. You had to get eyes on that safe before the party was over, if not plan A was shot and you’d have to move on to the rest of the fucking alphabet, which was not nearly as bulletproof as a good solid ‘A’.

Sam’s words perked you right back up out of your funk, even with the added element of danger… Hell, you couldn’t lie to yourself, you loved the danger. But better yet; you had another chance to find the damned safe. You really didn’t like letting the team down, not when they’d done so much for you. And… As an added bonus; your poor heart could get a break. 

Spending a full evening with Dean’s arm around your waist had taken its toll on your nerves. Add to that the eyes of the many women eyeing him up as if he was the tastiest piece of sweetness in the sugar bowl, and you weren’t a happy camper. You were his arm candy, he wasn’t some tasty treat they could sneak a bite off while their husbands’ heads were turned. 

Upstairs was good. Upstairs would keep you from punching people. 

Alicia probably wouldn’t punch people...

“Alright, leave it to me. Downstairs’ fully scouted, I’ll check upstairs and give a full report after the party,” You tried, and mainly failed, to keep the excitement out of your voice as you started towards the stairs. Stepping away from Dean’s side for the first time that evening, you almost immediately felt cold. 

Your poor heart could only take so much however, so the cool down was a welcome break from the fire burning low in your core. Yet, you hadn’t gotten more than two steps away before Dean’s hand was lightly circling your wrist and his voice was in your ear. Both directly and through the earpiece, as he pretended to murmur sweet nothings in your ear to hide his words from the rest of the party.

“I’ll go with her,” His words were not a request for Sam to include him in the plan. No, it was a statement; one his tone made it clear there was no use arguing against. He wasn’t letting you escape to the second floor to calm down. 

Clearly the damned criminally handsome man had it out for your heart. You didn’t know what the stupid muscle had done to make a nemesis out of the Dean Winchester. But considering his presence was causing your chest to take a beating of its own design, it must have been real bad. 

“We don’t know what or who’s up there. An extra pair of hands could be good,” He added when Sam stayed silent, not letting go of your wrist or moving until he heard a mumbled sound of agreement from his younger brother. Damn it. Why did Sam choose that moment, of all times, to actually agree with his big brother on a plan? 

Lawyer up Sammy boy. Argue and protect your thief’s poor heart! 

Unfortunately, your damned techy earpieces couldn’t transfer silent cries for help, yet. And so, you were left biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep your body from reacting to how Dean’s fingers were stroking against the pulse point on your wrist. 

“I can take care of myself you know,” Your words were more a weak huff than an actual statement as you started walking. 

Forcing your voice to keep from trembling as you once more stayed side by side with the man who made your heart practice extreme sports in your ribcage. Your eyes stayed locked on the doorway leading to the stairs as you forced yourself to walk slowly. Your shoulders relaxed, pace unhurried and movements languid, as if you were just enjoying the party and milling about. 

“I know that sweetheart, I’m not going up there for you,” Dean said with a chuckle. Adding a dramatic pause to give you that boyish grin that always made your stomach fill with damned giant eagles, since you’d used up your supply of butterflies in the first 6 months of working with the man. 

“I’m here for the poor fool who tries to mess with you,” 

Smiling in spite of yourself, you let out a breathless laugh at words meant as a nod to your first proper meeting with the weapons specialist and former special forces soldier. Not really a Hollywood movie meet cute, but a favorite memory of yours nonetheless.

He’d been the one they’d sent to recruit you to the modern day Robin Hood crew, and you’d been… Kinda jumpy back then. Constantly being on the run from the mafia, Interpol, FBI and God knows who else, did that to a girl. So, instead of exchanging business cards you’d kinda, sorta… Flipped him flat on his back and threatened to flatten his pretty face with an ancient bronze statue. That gaudy piece of ancient art had been heavy as fuck. Though it was nothing of extreme value of course. 

You’d been paranoid, not stupid. 

Things had luckily calmed down fast enough once you recognized him from previous run-ins. And, instead of actually breaking his nose, which should be considered a crime in and of itself, ‘cause damn… You’d talked things through and you’d finally let him up from where you’d pinned him to the ground. Still, Dean never let you forget that you actually got the drop on him. Though he was never upset about it, more impressed, considering his own impressive track record. 

“You’d know wouldn’t ya?” You shot back with a small smirk. Leaning against the wall; you pretended to be enjoying a more private conversation by the stairwell while you waited for an older couple to pass by. Just barely stopping yourself from shooting the older woman an annoyed glare as she clearly admired Dean’s ass in the tailored designer slacks.

“Oh, yes… I definitely would,” Dean’s words were punctuated by a wink and oh God… That sexy motherfucker was trying to kill you, you were sure of it. 

The whole night was just an elaborate assassination attempt. Warning bells were ringing in your ears as the poor crew manning your brain ran for their lives before the imminent implosion that was sure to follow as your heart beat loudly enough to show up as soundwaves in your eyes. Which you, not so sneakily, tried to hide by checking if the coast was clear.

Focus. 

Forcing out a small laugh you set your plan into motion and moved up the stairs at a pace that made it seem like you belonged up there. 

Not too slow, and not too quick. Just like they taught in thief school. If there was such a thing as a thief school... Hell, even if there was, you'd probably be expelled the first damned day. Considering how often your brain jumped to Dean instead of shiny sparkly treasures lately. And considering that you’d never really been good at sitting still, listening to authority figures, listening at all really, or paying attention to anything for more than two minutes at a time. 

Or, hell, math… You hated maths. 

As Dean followed you up, keeping close and at the same time ensuring no one saw you, you steeled your heart for your alone time with the perfect freaking specimen of a man. Taking a deep breath, you tried your hardest to turn off the part of your brain that was inexplicably tied to your heart in what was possibly God’s idea of a stupid prank on the human race. 

Find the safe, that was all you had to focus on. Find the goddamned safe and then act out the entire library of love struck teenage movie scenes and the more R-rated extras in your mind when you were safe and sound back in your room at the bunker.

It shouldn’t be that hard. You were a professional after all. You’d been in the business for a very long time. 

Yeah, you got this... 

If only you could stop thinking about the fact that the bedrooms were probably up there too. Egyptian cotton bed sheets that were just begging for someone to mess them up. 

Fuck, you didn’t have this; you were screwed. Thoughts like those were exactly why you’d worked alone before joining the team.

Safes, not bedrooms. Safes.

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Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510 @mimaria420

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @djs8891

Forever tags will be added as reblog

[droplet-dread-cat]

Villain Rei AU

AU in which Rei breaks out of the psychiatric ward because she sees just how much Fuyumi and Natsuo are suffering. Previous to her breakout, she has a whole Uncle Iroh-esque prison training arc (only hers is obviously in the ward) and she swears to herself she’ll kill Enji (omg, like mother like son) for continuing his bullshit even though Touya died because of it and free her family from his oppressive presence.

Rei doesn’t just jump headfirst into a murdering spree. No, she spends time befriending various shady people who can be trusted to care for her kids should she not survive. 

Then she has a whole epic duel against Endeavor in the dojo after sending her children to Giran (who whips out fake identities for all of them). Endeavor and Rei both sustain major injuries during their fight (Enji loses a whole arm to necrosis, has numerous slash wounds from icicles and ofc chilblains while Rei has severe burns all along her body and her lips as well as partially her cheek were melted off) and the Todoroki house goes up in a storm of fire and ice. None of them go out of this fight as a clear victor but when Rei collapses and Enji still stands and tries to go for the finishing blow, one of Rei’s contacts steps in. Mr Compress spirits her body away...

...and in the wake of Rei’s attack, she’s declared an A-rank villain overnight. 

Mind you, this is before Touya wakes up. And when he inevitably does wake up, he finds his whole world in shambles. His dad has become a rampaging lunatic, who’s hellbent on catching the villain Eshi (engl.: necrosis)... who is his mom. Who is also Endeavor’s arch-nemesis. Great. Oh, and his siblings have gone off the grid. So, he investigates and finds out his father’s been an abusive ass to his siblings while his mom was institutionalized. Well, then. The villain Dabi decides to join Eshi in her... endeavor.

Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shouto are still in sporadic contact with their mom, meaning they’re given money to live and Fuyumi and Natsuo accompany her to some minor investigations and heists. Just so they know how the world works. They both end up as sort of Dean and Sam Winchester but, like, as vigilantes instead of hunters. (Omg, they drive around Japan in Fuyumi’s beloved 2020 midnight blue Toyota Corolla, listening to early 2000′s western pop rock while journalling about quirk trafficking rings they’ll bust.) Natsuo also really fits the role of Sam, as he’s a med student who’s trying to leave that kind of lifestyle behind but finds himself with Fuyumi once again because his girlfriend’s been brutally murdered by someone who knows too much about their family. (They chase for clues etc., it’s a whole five seasons until they find them... you know how Supernatural went. Something along the lines of early Supernatural.)

In the meantime, Shouto’s trying to find out who he is. Maybe he ends up kidnapped by Endeavor, who resumes his training to make Shouto into a weapon that can’t only surpass All Might but also kill Rei (because he finds himself weakening as Rei majorly messed him up along their years spent in animosity). Maybe he goes the route of a hero on his own volition because he wants to change the system from the inside. Who knows? One thing’s for sure: His issues with the fire side of his quirk are much more pronounced than in canon, since Endeavor hurt his mom with his fire.

[queen-rowenas]

for the spotify writing game: 12!

spotify wrapped writing game: 12 - ready for it. taylor swift

send me a number 1-100 and i’ll write a fic based on that song on my top 100 playlist. requested by @lookforanewangle and @darthbecky726

stealing hearts - 3.7k, destiel au, thieves, this was supposed to be a short fic but i got carried away and now i’m obsessed, tempted to make a series out of this, my first au!

Dean doesn’t understand rich people. Why does someone even need a mansion? Or priceless jewelry collections? Or security teams with really big guns?

Well, that might be an exaggeration. The jewels aren’t priceless. Dean is very aware of how much they’re worth. It’s his job to know that. More than his job, really.

Helping people. Stealing things. It’s the family business. John Winchester was an obsessed bastard, but he was also a great thief. And he made sure his sons were better thieves.

The detailing at the top of the mansion’s stone columns catch the flood lights and barely manage to hide the security cameras. He winks at one as he circles the back of the property. “Charlie, am I good?” he mutters under his breath.

“Yep,” the hacker pipes up over the comms, “I’ve got the cameras, so you’re good to go, boss.”

Walking around to the side door and the big guy guarding it, Dean holds up his security badge and gives his best smile. “Hey, the boss wants me to double check everything in the back before the main event starts.”

The guy manning the door frowns. “Again? Mick just did a walkthrough.”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know, man. You know how Ketch gets. He’s not taking any chances.”

“Yeah, he’s been on everyone’s butt all night.” The guard looks Dean up and down, still frowning. “You new? I haven’t seen you on any details.”

“Yeah, they brought in some extra help for tonight and made me throw on a monkey suit,” he says, tugging on the collar of his jacket.

The guard scoffs. “At least you don’t have door duty. It’s the most boring gig.”

“Well, hopefully things don’t get too exciting.”

“True.” The guy opens the door and steps aside. “Alright, you have a good night.”

“Thanks, man. You too.”

As soon as the door closes behind him, Dean checks his watch. 7:24pm. Six minutes until the next change in security. Thirty-six until the jewels are put on display for the event. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Okay,” Sam’s voice cuts through the comms, “I’m headed to the back. Meet you at the elevator.”

Dean counts each second as he makes his way down the hall, each step timed to keep him out of the circuit of security guards and panning cameras. His dress shoes click on the hard floor, echoing down the empty corridor toward the basement elevator, distant from the actual festivities. The mansion was a freaking marble maze.

He glances at his watch again. 7:27pm. He walks a little faster.

When Sam meets him at the elevator, Dean chuckles. “Nice hairnet.”

Sam scowls at him, unclipping his kitchen staff badge from his uniform. “Next time, you get kitchen duty and I get to wear the suit.”

“Be my guest. I look great in a hairnet.”

“Whatever.” Sam steps up to the security panel. “You got the audio?”

“Yep.” Dean holds up his phone. “You got the thumbprint?”

“Got it,” Sam says, taking the skinniest wine glass Dean has ever seen out of his jacket. How can someone even drink out of that?

As Sam transfers the thumbprint to a glove, Dean checks the time to see it switch to 7:29pm. “Come on, man. We got one minute til security’s gonna be walking through again.”

“I got it. Chill.” Sam presses the print to scanner, and Dean holds his breath.

Two green lights blink on. When the screen asks for the voice prompt, he hits play on the phone. The seconds after Ketch’s voice prattles in his dumb accent feel like an eternity. He should be well past heist jitters, but Dean’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

The light turns green, and Dean releases his breath. He types in the password Charlie texted him, and the elevator doors slide open. As they step inside, Dean looks at his watch. 7:30pm.

The guards walk by just as the doors close.

The elevator moves slow, programmed by Charlie to not reach the basement until security has passed through. Dean leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, taking a moment to breathe.

The job isn’t that different from their usual gigs. The Stein family is bad news. They’ve hurt a lot of people, and they need to be taken down. But they’re also connected to a lot of worse people, bigger than they’ve taken on before. And Dean can’t help but feel like they’re about to get into something they’re not ready for.

The doors open and they’re moving. Charlie directs them down the hall, with a few jumps into side rooms to avoid the rounds of security guards.

“Alright,” Dean says, taking the necklace replica out of his pocket, “Bela said this should buy us some time until they actually check—”

An alarm pierces the air, and Dean’s blood runs cold. He looks back at the door, praying no one runs in. “Charlie?”

“It’s a fire alarm, so not us.” Fierce typing carries through the comms. “The smoke detectors aren’t showing anything. No reports of anything.”

“So someone probably set it off,” Sam says.

Dean nods. “We need to move.”

“There aren’t any guards between you and the necklace,” Charlie says, “Go.”

They break into a run.

The room where the jewels are being kept on standby for the event has a gold door. Dean doesn’t even stop to judge it before pushing it open. He breathes out a curse.

The jewels are already on their display, waiting to be carried out to the party. Emeralds, rubies, and a freaking bejeweled dagger are arranged around the centerpiece: the biggest diamond necklace Dean has ever seen.

And this is just what they’re showing people tonight, Dean thinks. He can’t imagine what the actual jewel room is like.

“Alright, give me the fake,” Sam says, pushing past him. The lock holding the necklace to the display had been custom engineered for this event. Fortunately, they know a smart kid named Kevin that can reverse engineer almost anything.

Sam unlocks it with Kevin’s key and holds the necklace out to Dean without looking up. Dean takes care in taking it and tucking it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, handing Sam the replica. The fire alarm still blares.

“Okay.” Sam clicks the lock shut. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Uh oh,” Charlie pipes up.

“Uh oh?” Dean falters. “What’s uh oh?”

“Looks like we got company.”

Sam and Dean look at each other. This can not be happening. “What kind of company?”

“Hello, Dean,” a deep voice speaks behind them. “Sam.”

Dean curses under his breath. Great. Just perfect. He whirls around with a smile. “Hey, Cas. Didn’t expect to see you here. You look good.”

Castiel. An experienced thief and con man, much like Dean. Except where Dean and Sam depend on Charlie’s creative banking, he has the backing of a very powerful and very shady criminal empire.

Cas’s blue eyes flick past him to the display. The tuxedo fits him perfectly, doing a lot for his shoulders. Dean tries to ignore it. “Thank you. I’m assuming you’re here for the diamonds as well?”

Dean nods. “Yep. And as you can see, we were here first.”

“True, but given that this isn’t an elementary school playground, that doesn’t hold much merit.”

Here’s the thing. Dean likes Cas, professionally speaking. He’s good at his job, and he’s a funny guy when he wants to be. And even more so when he doesn’t.

“Come on, man. I saved your skin back in San Diego. Doesn’t that get me something?”

Cas frowns. “My actions in Bogotá more than made up for that. You would still be in a Colombian prison if it wasn’t for me. Or worse.”

“What do your people want with this necklace anyway? Did your boss even tell you?”

Cas’s jaw tightens. “That is none of your concern, Dean.”

“Oh yeah, right. I’m convinced now.” Dean waves a dramatic arm toward the necklace. “Go ahead and take it.”

“I will take it.” Cas takes a step forward.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Uh, guys?” Charlie speaks up, “The events team and security are on their way to get the jewels.”

Cas turns back towards the hall and curses. “She’s right. We need to go.”

Checking the necklace in his jacket, Dean follows him down the hall with Sam close behind. “Dude, did you tap into our comms?”

“Of course I did.”

As they run down the hall, Dean realizes the fire alarm has stopped ringing. “If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” he hisses at Cas.

They’re almost to the elevator when the door dings. “Guys, get out of the hall,” Charlie says, urgent. “Get out of the hall now.”

“Crap.” Dean clamps a hand on Cas’s arm and yanks him through the nearest door as Sam takes another one.

It becomes painfully obvious that Dean has made a critical mistake. They’re in a closet, a small one. Cas glares at him, face inches away, faintly lit by the light from the hall. They’re pressed chest to chest, crowded in by shelves, and Dean can feel Cas’s breath on his face.

Here’s the thing. Dean likes Cas a lot. He’s actually a nice guy, something Dean had not been expecting given the guy’s line of work and choice of coworkers. He’s funny and really good at his job. And he’s also really hot.

And now Dean is stuck in a closet with him, staring into those big, blue eyes like an idiot, with the risk of being caught hanging over their heads. It’s like a dream and a nightmare all at once. He can almost guarantee Cas can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

They wait for the event coordinator to pass by, blabbing about the schedule to his assistants. Cas shifts, and Dean makes the mistake of looking down at his throat as he swallows.

“I thought,” Dean’s voice cracks, trying to keep it low, “I thought after we pulled off that job in Philly together, we’d be good.”

Cas sighs, eyes flicking across Dean’s face. “I would like us to be good…but I have a job to do.”

“So do I. Come on, Cas, you gotta understand. We’re trying to help people. I’ve got a client, and the money from this necklace is gonna help people. Help me out here.”

“It’s not that simple. You know who I answer to. You know what they’re like.”

“Which is exactly my point. They suck. Did they really send you to do this job alone? This is not a one man job. What cover did you blow getting an invite to this? ‘Cause you’re not gonna be able to show your face here again.” Dean huffs and moves his hand only to smack it against a shelf, wincing. “They’re not good, Cas. And they’re not good for you. Don’t you want to get out of it?”

“It’s not my job to want things, Dean.”

“Oh, come on. That’s a load of crap. Isn’t there something you want?”

Cas stares up at him, quiet for a moment, something intense and a little wild in his eyes. “Yes.”

Wait. Dean sucks in a breath. Oh.

Here’s the thing. Dean is a good thief and a good liar. He can spin a tale and sell a bit to anyone. He can talk someone’s ear off about something he knows absolutely nothing about.

He’s not good at this. Telling the truth. Being earnest. He keeps that close to his chest, locked away, because that’s how you mess up a job. That’s how you get burned.

But Cas is the most earnest person he’s ever met. Those blue eyes cut straight through him, like he’s looking straight at his soul, like he sees him.

Dean opens and closes his mouth. “Cas…”

“You look very nice,” Cas says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” Dean’s head reels from the whiplash of this conversation. His cheeks grow hot. “It’s just a suit. I look like I always do.”

“Well, you always look very nice.”

The security detail marches by, boots stomping down the hall, and Dean flinches. His fingers brush against Cas’s wrist. He wishes he could reach out and feel the pulse underneath, see if it jumps under his touch.

He looks back at Cas’s face to find him still staring at him. Those blue eyes drop to his lips.

And suddenly Dean’s heart is trying to leap out of his chest, pounding faster than it has all night. The blood rushes through his veins, adrenaline lighting him up like no job has before. He feels like he’s rappelling down a building and racing down a city street and sprinting across a roof all at once.

I’m not good at this, he thinks, but I want to be.

He takes Cas’s face in his hands and kisses him. A slow press, not too hard although his hands are shaking. Cas gasps under the touch and Dean breathes him in.

So that’s what his hair feels like, Dean thinks in a daze, running one hand through the ever-tousled hair, That’s what he tastes like.

Cas melts into him, wrapping arms around him to pull him in closer, humming into his mouth. Dean is a rocket. He’s about to shoot into the sky.

Footsteps pass by, and Dean pulls back with a gasp. They’re taking the display upstairs to the party, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He cradles Cas’s face in his hands, holding him close. “Come with me.” He presses another kiss to his lips. “I’ll take care of you. Come with us.”

Cas pants against his lips. “I can’t. They won’t let me go. They’d never stop hunting us.”

“Like we’re not already on the run all the time.

Cas shakes his head. “Not like this. It’s too dangerous.”

It already is. Dean tightens his hold on him. He wants to shake him, knock it into his head, convince him to run away with him. “Cas—”

“I didn’t come alone,” Cas says quickly.

“What?” Dean blanches.

“They sent Uriel as insurance. He’s upstairs, waiting to intercept you.”

“And by intercept, you mean pound me to a pulp.”

“Essentially, yes.” Cas shifts out of his hold and takes a keycard out of his jacket pocket. “There’s a service stairwell at the east side of the basement. This card will unlock it.”

Dean takes it reluctantly. “What are you gonna tell your boss?”

“That you took it from me,” Cas murmurs, eyes hooded as they drop to Dean’s mouth, “because you’re a very good thief.”

Dean sways into him. “You really think they’re gonna believe that?”

“I’m not sure, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

“Our next job,” Dean blurts out, “It’s in Manhattan.”

“You shouldn’t be telling me that.”

“I want you to know.” Dean wants to kiss him again, so he does. “I want you to be there. I want to see you there.” His voice drops to a whisper.

“Dean…” Cas shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Okay.” Dean nods, trying not to let his face drop. “That’s okay. I get it.”

Cas sighs and presses him back against the shelves, kissing him deep. And Dean lets him in willingly. One of Cas’s hand curves around his jaw, fingers splaying out to hold him, and Dean shivers.

Cas draws back, pressing a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips as he tries to follow him. “Everyone has gone upstairs,” he says, voice rough. I did that, Dean thinks distantly. “We should go.”

“Right.” Dean nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Where are you gonna go?”

“Back to the party. You should leave before Uriel finds you.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Dean doesn’t move to leave. Cas is warm against him and Dean wants to press into him again, bask in the warmth. Maybe if they just stayed here, no one would find them.

“Uh, guys?” Sam’s voice startles Dean, and he curses. The comms. He completely forgot about the comms. Which means Sam and Charlie definitely heard everything. His face burns.

“Yeah, Sammy, what?” His voice cracks, and he cringes even more, unable to look at Cas

“Sorry, but Cas is right. We should head out while it’s clear.”

“Yeah.” Dean nods, desperately trying to sound normal, “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

He puts a hand on the doorknob, but stops to look at Cas. His hair is even more of a mess and oh god his face is flushed, the blush spreading down his neck. His eyes are wide and watching Dean, unsure.

Can’t have that, Dean thinks and leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Cas’s smile is a small thing, and Dean feels like he won the biggest score. “Yes.”

When Dean opens the door, Sam is leaning against the wall, a huge grin on his face. Dean could punch him.

“You guys good?” Sam asks, way too smug.

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “Are you?”

“A little traumatized, but I’ll be good.”

“Shut up,” Dean says, his face growing hot again.

Cas steps forward, the calm smile a stark contrast from his disheveled hair. His holds out a hand to Sam. “It was good seeing you, Sam.”

“Yeah, you too, man.” Sam shakes his hand, glancing at Dean. “Hope we see you again. Maybe under better circumstances.”

Cas looks over at Dean. “So do I.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry as he opens it. What does he even say after all that? “Yeah,” he croaks. Wow, real smooth, Winchester.

Cas’s eyes soften and he nods. Turning away, he makes his way to the elevator. Dean watches his shoulders shift with each step, and he wants to ask him to come with them again.

Sam claps a hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of his reverie and turning him around. “Let’s go, man.”

Dean slaps his hand away. “I’m good.”

“Sure you are.” Sam’s smirk fades and he’s quiet for a moment as they walk. “Cas is a good guy. I’d want him with us, too.”

“Yeah,” Dean mutters. He can’t decide if tonight was a win or a loss. His lips buzz, but his hand flexes at his side, missing the feeling of a warm pulse underneath.

The van is parked a good distance from the mansion, so it’s a long trek. When they finally get there, the door slides open to reveal Charlie’s grinning face. “Well, looks like one of us got lucky in more ways than one.”

Dean can’t help the smile spreading across his face. He did, didn’t he? He shrugs, some of his old bravado coming back. “What can I say? When you got it you got it.”

He reached inside his jacket to get the diamonds—

And his hand wraps around nothing.

His heart drops. Wait. He reaches in the other side. Nothing. He opens his jacket all the way, pats down all of his pockets. “No, no, no.”

Sam’s and Charlie’s eyes grow wide.

“You’re kidding,” Sam says.

“I swear I had it in here.” Dean reaches around in his jacket again. “You gave it to me and I put it in here and I…”

And then he was pressed against Cas is a closet. And they kissed. And Cas’s hands slid under his jacket.

“Dude.” Charlie looks torn between yelling and laughing. “Are you telling me your boyfriend stole the necklace from you?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dean hisses, “but…maybe.”

“You’re an idiot,” Sam says, “And I knew Cas made you an idiot, but I didn’t know it was this bad?”

Dean groans and drops his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I let him play me.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Charlie says, spinning in her chair, “I think he still likes you. He just also stole from you.”

“Yeah.” Dean trudges toward the van. “‘Cause he’s the best.” He’s freaking perfect. This is so not fair.

“Alright, let’s get out of here and get you some pie, Romeo.”

* * *

Dean takes a long drink of his beer, watching the Manhattan traffic pass by down below from his hotel window. Their mark is just across the street. The building’s blueprints are spread out on the table behind him.

There’s a knock at the door, and Dean sighs. He sets the drink down, careful to keep it on the coaster and away from the plans.

“Dude,” he calls as he walks to the door, “did you forgot your key again?”

He peeks through the peephole, but there’s no one there. He frowns. Well, this is a good way to get mugged or killed.

Fortunately, Charlie is a wizard and has the hotel’s security cameras at her mercy. Dean takes out his phone and pulls up the hall camera. Still no one.

He squints at the picture. There’s a package at the door. Huh.

He opens the door and looks down at it. It’s small, nondescript. “You better not be a bomb.”

Glancing up and down the hall, Dean picks it up and takes it inside, kicking the door closed behind him. That’s when he sees the note.

There’s a small piece of paper taped to the top. D + C scrawled in neat, familiar handwriting, and Dean stops in his tracks. He rushes back to the door and flings it open, stepping out into the hall. His eyes strain like if he looks hard enough, those blue eyes will appear.

Heart racing, he goes back inside and sets the box on the table. His hands shake a little as he opens it. There’s an ungodly amount of bubble wrap, but when he unwraps it all, Dean freezes.

Emeralds. Rubies. A dagger. It’s the Stein collection save for the diamond necklace.

There’s another note folded carefully in the bottom of the box. Unfolding it, Dean handles it with more care than he had with the jewels.

It’s not the necklace, but maybe these will help :)

- C

Dean stares at the paper. He put a smiley face, he thinks distantly, running his thumb over the writing. His chest feels tight.

I think I’m in love with him.

Dean drops into a chair and presses his forehead to the table. He laughs at himself. I’m so screwed.

It’s cliche. It’s stupid. A thief getting his heart stolen. But he supposes that’s what makes Castiel a great thief, being able to pull off something like that.

He raises his head and looks at the emeralds shining back at him. He looks at the careful curve of the smiley face, the ink a little smudged.

Maybe—Dean hopes, he prays—maybe he managed to steal something too.

writing tag list pt. 1 (ask to be added or removed)

@10x02 @alivedean @alex-is-a-boy-b-tch @bixlasagna @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @blue-moon-elf @brokenyouth @butchnatural @carvereracas @casblackfeathers @castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielevermore @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @clouds-starlight @destieldisaster @destielfactory @destielinimpala @donestiel @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @folklorecas @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @heller-swift @himitsutsubasa @how-the-feathers-have-fallen @ialwaysordericedcoffee @immortalcas @im-sam-fucking-winchester @itsshadowdancer23 @jackles-acting-choices @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @littlewolf2703 @llamasdumpsterfire @martymar1963 @miniaturereviewmaker @mishha @mochadean @mostly-marauders-headcanons @mrswatermelon

[deancasbigbang]

Viva Las Vegas

Author: one_more_offbeat_anthem

Artist: Scarlett Dixon

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Dean/Cas, background Sam/Rowena, implied Alastair/Abaddon

Length: 20431

Warnings: Mentions of prison, gambling, and alcohol use

Tags: 1920s au, getting back together, heist, inspired by Ocean's Eleven

Summary: The year is 1924. Prohibition is in full swing, Nevada’s gambling ban is still being enforced, but in a post-war environment, skirts are short and good cheer is abundant.  Unless your name is Dean Winchester. Eight months ago, Dean was put away for racketeering (read: illegal gambling) for working at an underground iteration of closed casino Hotel Nevada, and to make matters worse, his partner (and best friend) Cas Novak broke up with him via a letter halfway through his stint in prison. Back in Las Vegas, Dean’s looking for revenge: he knows that Alastair Cunningham, manager of Hotel Nevada, framed him, and the only solution seems to be doing a heist to rip Alastair off in return.  But there’s a bit of a problem: to make this scheme work, Dean’s going to have to enlist all his closest friends and family…and that includes Cas.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

[spncanonbigbang]

Title: Apple Pie and Liberty

T-rated

38K words

Tags: Dean Winchester/Bela Talbot, Dean Winchester & Bela Talbot, Bela Talbot & Crowley, Dean Winchester & Castiel, Season 6 AU, canon-typical violence, implied sexual content, fake-married, casefic, identity crises, demons, theft and heists, hunting and monsters, Nebraska

Summary: The year is 2010, she was buried without her gun, and the world is a whole lot smaller than Bela remembers.

When she stumbles headlong into Dean Winchester — suspicious, angry, grief-stricken — she figures it must be fate, or luck, or kismet. Because there’s something out there in the dark, something she’s just starting to piece together.

There’s something hunting Bela Talbot.

Excerpt:

“Just – stop!” Bela yells, as Dean pounds his way out the house and down the front steps, shaking out with a rage he can’t quite explain. He can hear Bela rushing forward behind him. “Dean!” she yells. “Dean! I have a business proposition for you.”

He boils over and whirls around. “What do you think I am!” he says, throwing his hands out. “I have nothing I want to give you, you absolute –“

“I need your help,” Bela interrupts. She’s standing on the threshold, pressed into the doorframe and looking down at him. She sounds exactly as angry as he feels, but she doesn’t sound like she’s lying. “Something’s hunting me.”

If Dean could just walk away right now, before it gets worse, before she can say anything more – if Dean could just walk away –

He storms back up the steps and pushes her into the empty foyer, slamming the screen shut behind them. “Something or someone?”

“Now, Dean,” she chides, narrowing her eyes. “That’s remarkably tone-deaf, you know, I’ve clients from all over the –“

“Bela, I swear on everything good if you don’t –“

“Thing,” she says flatly. “Thing, and it’s coming for me, and I need your help.”

“And why can’t you take care of this yourself, huh? The way you take care of your ‘business’?”

“Because I hear you’re the best,” she says. “And I won’t settle for anything less.”

Coming November 28th

[writercole]

Spooktober 2021 Master List

Day 5 - Lovers to Enemies with Dean Winchester

Day 7 - Raking Leaves with the Winchesters

Day 9 - Farmer’s Market with Bucky Barnes

Day 10 - Decorating with Jax Teller

Day 12 - Jack O’Lanterns with Castiel

Day 14 - Apple Orchard with Billy Butcher

Day 18 - Just My Imagination (Sam Winchester)

Day 21 - My Bloody Fright Trail (Tom Hanniger)

Day 23 - Nightmares with Tommy Shelby

Day 24 - Heist AU with Ada Thorne and Polly Gray

Day 25 - Visions (A salt and burn with Sam & Dean)

Day 26 - Curses with Rowena

Day 27 - Zombies (Winchesters x Reader)

Day 31 - Cocoa (Charlie Bradbury x Sydney)

Day 31 - Sweet Tooth with Happy Lowman

Day 31 - Fall Festival with Opie Winston