#dean winchester doorman

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Crossroad Blues | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon gore, canon violence, imposter syndrome, discussing grief and parental death

Word Count: 4935

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You sighed heavily as you pulled up a photo of Dean’s mugshot from the St. Louis Police Department. “Well, you’ve got a warrant out in St. Louis, and now, you're officially in the feds’ database.”

Dean grinned at you across the diner table. “Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something.”

“Dean, it’s not funny,” you scolded. “We’re fucked if we’re not careful.”

“Well, what do they got on you two?” Dean looked between you and Sam.

Sam muttered, “I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet.”

“No accessory? Nothing?” Dean chuckled.

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled.

The older brother laughed. “You're jealous.”

“Why the fuck would he be jealous, Dean?” you hissed.

Dean seemed caught off-guard. “Whoa, sweetheart, relax—”

“No, this is serious, man,” you replied, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. “Dee, I was completely off the grid before I met you. Now, we all got arrested— thankfully, Diana’s getting our mugshots and prints wiped from Baltimore— but I’m undocumented! My mom told me she gave birth to me in a motel room. This was after my parents had already been ‘missing’ for years. My brother and I have no birth certificates, I don’t have social security, I don’t have insurance, I don’t have a real driver’s license— they can book me for that reason alone. I’m fucked. You didn’t kill anyone. They actually have legitimate reason to book me.”

Dean’s plucky attitude dropped, and he turned around, slightly angry. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t exactly plan on getting arrested. And I’m sorry it screwed you over, okay? Chill out.”

You glared at him. “ ‘Chill out’?” You chuckled coldly. “ ‘Chill out,’ he says. I wouldn’t be as angry if you weren’t making stupid jokes.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop, okay? Jeez.”

Sam huffed. “Okay!” He slid papers between you and Dean who were scowling at each other. “Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed.”

Dean looked away from you and down at the paper, but you kept your eyes trained on him. “Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?” Dean questioned.

“Two days earlier,” answered Sam.

“Did he actually say Black Dog?”

“Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive.”

“Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?” the older brother asked.

“Well, maybe,” Sam shrugged.

“What's the lore on it?”

The brunet slid another page over to Dean. “It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big; nasty.”

“Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg,; ook at that one, huh?” He held up a picture and smirked at his brother. 

Sam glared at him.

Dean’s smirk slipped. “What? They could.”

Sam got up from the table and began heading out of the door. You followed Sam quickly. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around.

“What, Dean?” you snapped.

He shrank under your glare. “Look, I— I’m sorry, okay?”

You dropped the tension in your shoulders. “Yeah, me, too. I just— I worry about you. And you guys completely turned my life upside-down when you walked into it. And everything’s changing so fast; it’s kinda scary.”

Dean nodded as he started walking. “I get it. If it makes you feel any better, you’re changing my life, too.”

You looked over at him and smiled softly. He couldn’t quite meet your eyes after that admission.

***

You and the brothers interviewed the deceased’s former business partner, and the man seemed a little bitter. Apparently, Sean Boyden was a terrible architect around ten years ago. Then, suddenly, he was in Architectural Digest. A piece of information he gave you, though, aside from his bitterness, was that Boyden used to bartend at Lloyd’s before his overnight success.

Then, you went to the animal protection agency to gather information on complaints or phone calls about a Black Dog. You were the one who went in to gather intel because you weren’t willing to take the chance of Dean being recognized from the St. Louis APB. You got back in the car and explained to the brothers what you’d found out. You held up the complaints list you’d gotten from the secretary. “Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, and dog-like. There's nineteen calls; all from Dr. Sylvia Pearlman.”

You headed to the woman’s home to interrogate her, only to find that the woman had disappeared two days ago.

“Hi, we’re Animal Control,” you told the woman who opened the door. “We’re looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?”

“The Doctor— well, she— I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago,” she said.

“Okay, and you are…?” Sam asked.

“I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid,” she introduced. “I’m not sure where she went. She just packed and left; she didn't say where. That stray dog: did you find it finally?” 

“Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?” Sam questioned.

She shook her head. “Well, no. I never even heard it.”

There were pictures on the wall of a brunette woman appearing in all of the photographs who you deduced was Dr. Pearlman. A picture that caught your attention was the woman at a bar with two friends. You turned back to the maid. “Hey, you know I read she was chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job.”

“Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position... ten years ago?” the maid thought aloud.

“Huh, an overnight success. Ten years ago,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, we know a guy like that.” Dean clicked his tongue.

“Oh, look at this,” you said. You flipped the photo from the wall over to show the writing on the back. “Lloyd’s bar.”

*** The bar was your next stop. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and you and the boys parked close to the gravel intersection.

Dean noticed something on the side of the road, and called to you and Sam, “Hey,” to get your attention.

“Yeah?” Sam questioned.

He nodded in the direction of yellow flowers growing around the edges of the crossroads. “That's weird. Think someone planted these?”

“Middle of all these weeds?” Sam questioned.

“These are, uh, what do you call 'em—” Dean snapped his fingers, trying to think.

“Yarrow flowers,” you noted.

“Yeah,” the older brother nodded. “Used for certain rituals, aren't they?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam commented. “Summoning rituals.”

You tsked. “So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's. Where there just so happens to be a crossroads.”

“You think?” Sam turned to you.

“Let's find out,” Dean said and started toward the center of the road. He bent over and looked up at you. “This seem about the dead center to you?”

You looked around a few moments before looking back at him and nodding. 

Dean dug a few inches into the hard soil with his hands and hit something solid. 

“Yahtzee.” He found an old Altoid tin and opened it to reveal several occult objects and a picture of an older man you hadn’t seen thus far on this hunt. 

“Holy shit, that’s graveyard dirt and a black cat bone. That’s… crazy Hoodoo spellwork,” you breathed out. “Used to summon a demon.”

“Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good,” Dean deadpanned.

“They're seeing dogs, alright,” Sam added. “But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls.”

“You guys ever come across this stuff before? I’ve only read about it,” you said, looking between the boys.

“No, never,” Dean replied. “Whoever this demon is, it's back, and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough.”

“So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?” questioned Sam.

“Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music,” you nodded.

Sam shrugged.

Dean looked at his brother, stunned. “You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's- there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, 'Crossroad Blues'? 'Me and the Devil Blues'?”

“ 'Hellhound on My Trail'?” you added.

Sam frowned, and Dean rolled his eyes. “The story goes, he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs.”

“And now it's happening all over again,” Sam said. “We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.”

Dean groaned. “Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play ‘Let's Make A Deal’.”

“So, what, we should just leave them to die?” scoffed the younger brother.

“Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?” the older one deadpanned.

“Dean,” you scolded gently.

“Fine,” he murmured. “Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing; let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive.”

***

The man’s name turned out to be George Darrow. He was the first person to summon the demon to Lloyd’s. Unfortunately for him, all he asked for was artistic talent; he had forgotten to ask for the recognition for it. His small studio apartment was littered with paintings; some half-finished and some completed. They were incredible. 

“Was it worth it?” you asked him.

“Hell no. I'm still broke and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst.”

Your heart broke a little for him. 

“Go on,” encouraged Sam.

“Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that,” he muttered. “After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but I mean, who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?”

“How many others are there?” questioned Sam.

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady— I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous,” George scoffed. “One more. Uh, nice guy, too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for.”

Sam shook his head. “No. No, there's gotta be a way.”

“You don't get it! I don't want a way!” George suddenly yelled. “I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time." He sighed. "Okay, kids. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.”

You and the brothers hesitated.

“Get out! I got work to do.”

“Mr. Darrow, could I—?” you started.

“What?! What do you want,” he spat.

“I just wanted to know if I could buy one of your paintings,” you said. “That little one over there.” You pointed to a small canvas, no bigger than a piece of printer paper. It was of a skull on a nun’s body with what looked like ectoplasm dripping from her eyes. The linework and blending of the oil paint was incredible. You were truly in love with it and had been eyeing it since you walked into the room.

“I don’t want your pity money, kid. But thanks,” he told you.

“I’m serious, I really do want it. I don’t wanna buy it off you out of pity,” you protested.

He considered, before nodding. “Just take it, kid.”

“Mr. Darrow—”

He couldn’t look at you as he spoke. “Take it. It’s payment enough that someone wants one of my paintings.”

Your heart broke for him even more, and you hugged the painting to your chest when he handed it to you. 

Sam paused before speaking again. “You don't really want to die.”

George turned back to you one last time. “I don't? I'm... I'm tired.”

You bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from crying as you left the man painting in his room.

You stored the painting in your bag when you returned to the Impala, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk as you drove to the Hudsons’ house to find the last crossroads victim.

***

You and the Winchesters rolled to a stop in front of a very nice house. You knocked on the door to reveal Evan Hudson moments later. “Yes?” he said, seeming shaken.

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago.” Dean cut straight to the chase.

Evan startled and slammed the door in your faces. You heard the latch click in place.

“Come on, we're not demons!” Dean called.

“Any other bright ideas?” Sam deadpanned. 

Dean stepped back, set himself, then kicked the door in in one go. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight, and you mentally scolded yourself. ‘You sick fuck, we’re on a case.’

You followed the brothers into the home and began searching through the rooms for Evan. You found a door closed at the end of the hallway, and Dean went to kick it in again. You stopped him by catching his leg. You turned the handle and pushed the door open gently. The room was completely silent as you entered. “Evan?” you called.

Evan jumped out from behind a bookcase, holding his hands up. “Please! Don't hurt me.”

Sam attempted to pacify him. “We're not going to hurt you, alright? We're here to help you.”

“We know all about the genius deal you made,” Dean gruffly said. 

Evan looked frantically between the three of you. “What? How?”

“Doesn't matter. All that matters is, we're trying to stop it,” Sam replied.

The man flicked his eyes between you and the brothers nervously. “How do I know you're not lying?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy.”

Evan swallowed harshly and started pacing. “Can you stop it?”

“Don't know,” you said earnestly. “We'll try.”

“I don’t wanna die,” he muttered, beginning to well up with tears.

Dean’s tone was almost mocking. “Of course, you don't, not now.”

You gently grabbed Dean’s wrist. “Dean, stop.”

He continued, ignoring you. “What'd you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?”

“My wife.”

The older brother laughed coldly. “Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for.”

“Dean!” you and Sam chided, more firmly this time.

“No. He's right, I made the deal,” Evan sniffed. “Nobody twisted my arm, that… woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but— I don't know how to— I was desperate.”

“Desperate?” Sam questioned.

“Julie was dying,” he lamented.

Dean suddenly softened. “You did it to save her?”

Evan nodded. “She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying… a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot.”

“Did you ever think about her in all this?” Dean questioned.

“I did this for her,” Evan protested.

Dean advanced on him, ripping his arm out of your hand. “You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?”

You put a hand on Dean’s chest and pushed him backward. “Knock it off,” you told him, giving him a sharp look.

Sam turned to Evan. “You just sit tight, alright? We're going to figure this out.”

You followed Dean out into the hallway. “What is your deal, man? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Hey, I got an idea.” He pulled out the goofer dust you’d gotten from George Darrow. “You and Sam throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.”

“Wait, summon?! Are you nuts?!” you protested. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You can’t. I won’t let you, okay? I can’t handle this properly if I’m worried about you.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes.

He put his hands on either side of your shoulders. “(Y/N), I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.”

Sam walked up behind you. “Yeah, but how much time?”

“I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine,” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, you can forget it, alright?” Sam argued. “I'm not letting you summon that demon.”

“Why not?” Dean grumbled.

“Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why,” Sam noted.

Dean turned around. “We don't have time for this.” 

Sam was able to stop him with a single word. “Dad. You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell. I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it, too.”

Dean didn’t turn back to face you and his brother, but quietly said, “It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?”

Evan called back from inside the room behind you. “It’s outside!”

“Just keep him alive, okay?” Dean instructed. 

“Dean!” you called.

“Go!”

You steeled yourself and turned back to the office Evan was in. You took a bag of Goofer dust from Sam and began covering the window sills and doors. Sam made a circle around Evan while you worked.

“What is that stuff?” Evan asked.

“Goofer dust,” Sam replied.

“You serious?” he scoffed.

“Yeah. 'Fraid so. Look. Believe me, don't believe me, whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, alright?”

You looked back to see Evan nodding. He began to hug himself, standing in the middle of the circle just as you and Sam finished coating the room.

Sam shook his bag out. “That’s the last of it.”

You paced around the room, Bowie knife in hand, as Sam tried to comfort Evan. All you could think about was Dean with the crossroads demon, and you prayed to a god you didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t make any stupid deals.

You knew how much his dad’s death was tearing him apart. You knew that even in that moment with him after he’d just woken up next to you in the apartment back in Philadelphia, his heart wasn’t fully there. You wished you could take away that pain for him. 

“(Y/N), are you trying to increase your step-count or something?” Sam asked you.

You barely registered his snarky question. “What?”

“You’re pacing. Like, a lot.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said.

“God, you and Dean were made for each other.” Sam shook his head, chuckling slightly.

You deadpanned at him. “Shut up.”

Evan whirled around at something you couldn’t hear or see.

“What?” Sam asked him.

“You hear that?” Evan asked. 

“Hear what?” you questioned. “Where is it?”

“Right outside the door,” Evan said quietly.

Suddenly, the doors began to rattle violently. Sam stepped inside the circle of goofer dust, but you stayed outside of it, gripping your bowie knife tightly.

“Just don't move, alright?” Sam told Evan. “Stay where you are.”

The rattling droned on for several minutes before it stopped suddenly.

“Do you still hear it?” Sam asked.

“No. Is it over?” Evan breathed out.

You whipped around to the sound of rumbling from a grate nailed to the wall. You stared it down until it burst off the wall, kicking dust from the vent into the room.

“It's here!” Evan exclaimed.

Deep claw marks gouged into the floor up to the circle, and they stopped just before the edge. The hellhounds had apparently completely ignored you, but you tempted fate by pissing them off. You dug your bowie knife into where you thought the back of one of the creatures was.

“(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing?!” Sam yelled. 

You cried out in pain as an invisible force slashed at your leg. Deep claw marks appeared on your thigh, ripping through your jeans. 

“(Y/N), no!” Sam screamed.

You slashed at your leg with your knife and hit something solid. 

“(Y/N), get inside the circle, you maniac!” Sam chided.

“Trying!” you replied, pulling the knife out of the solid thing you’d hit. Nothing seemed to work on the hellhounds, though, and your knife only stalled them momentarily. You crawled, scrambling over to the circle, careful not to disrupt it as the hounds got one last lash in at your leg. You sat back against Sam’s legs, holding your leg and breathing through your teeth.

“Jesus, (Y/N/N), are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Sammy, do I look okay?” you groaned, trying to keep still on the floor despite the pain in your right thigh and left calf.

He paused for a moment. “Fair point.”

The windows flew open, disrupting the Goofer dust that had been laid on the window sill and slowly beginning to blow the dust away from around you, Sam, and Evan.

“Circle's broken. Come on!” Sam pulled you and Evan.

“Sam, take him! Go!” You threw your knife at him and stayed in the slowly breaking circle, and Sam obliged. You stayed on the ground, praying that the hellhounds would leave you alone. Thankfully, they did, and you tried to recollect the dust and build the particles up around yourself. Sam had long since sprinted out of the room with Evan in tow, and the scratches on the floor led out of the room and down the hall. 

You sat like that for a while, crying and in pain. You knew you needed to stop the bleeding on your thigh as it was bleeding way more profusely than your calf. You took your button-down off and wrapped it around your leg tightly. You threw your head back, chest heaving, at the pressure around the wound. You pulled your sock up around your calf to try and collect the bleeding there.

You could hear rattling from down the hall, and wished you could do something more to help. Suddenly, the pounding stopped.

“Sam?!” you called.

“(Y/N)! You okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah!”

“Is it over?” 

You considered for a moment before calling back, “I don’t know! I fucking hope so!”

You could hear Sam laughing getting louder and the sound of a door creaking. You assumed he was hesitantly checking the hallway out to see if he could make it back to you. “I think we’re good,” he called.

“Thank god,” you breathed out. You tried to stand, only to fall back on the ground almost immediately. “Fuck.”

Sam entered the office. “Shit, you’re bleeding a lot… uh—” He pulled out his phone. “Dean, Dean, is it over?... Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. It’s (Y/N) I’m worried about… No, no, she’s okay— for now, at least.”

“Hey!” you called. “I’m fine, Sam, really.”

“Oh, yeah? Try standing up, then,” he deadpanned at you.

You went to move but reconsidered at the throbbing in your leg. 

“That’s what I thought.” He turned back to his phone. “She tried to take on a hellhound… Yeah, yeah, okay. Just… get here. As fast as you can. And bring her bag. I know she’s got the first aid stuff in there.”

Evan reentered the room as Sam hung up the phone. “Holy shit!” Evan cried worriedly. “Is she—? Does she need a doctor? Hold on, I’ll call 911—”

“Don’t you dare, Evan,” you protested firmly, glare pinning him to the spot. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stitch myself up, ‘s all.”

***

When Dean arrived about fifteen minutes later, he was furious. “(Y/N), what the hell were you thinking?” He stormed into the room with your duffel bag in his hand. 

“Dean, I’m fine. Gimme the damn bag—”

He slammed it roughly on the ground, sitting next to you. “Let me see.”

You hesitated but unwrapped your leg upon Dean giving you a harsh look. 

He cursed under his breath when he saw your leg. “Fuck, (Y/N)...”

“Just let me stitch it up, I’ll be fine—”

“No,” he gruffly stated. “I’ve got it.”

Sam looked between you and Dean before taking Evan out of the room to calm him down. 

Dean began threading the needle. You sucked in air through your teeth. “Tell me what happened. How’d you stop it?” You were asking him to distract you.

He looked up at you, still angry, but complied anyway. “I cornered the bitch and made her let him out of his deal.” 

You paused, waiting for more. “And?”

He said, “And nothing.” And began to work on your leg.

“Dean,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist. “Talk to me, please. Talk me through this.”

He seemed to soften when he saw how much pain you were in. He took a deep breath as he tried his best to stitch you up gently. “She, um, she said my dad’s in hell. And… And he did make a deal. And she told me—” he paused, eyes welling with tears, “She told me she knows how torn up I am about it all. She told me she could bring him back, (Y/N/N).”

Your breath caught in your throat, no longer focused on the needle piercing your skin. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—” Tears welled in your eyes. 

“No. But…” he paused, tying off one stitch before moving to start the other one. 

“But?” you pressed.

“I sure as hell thought about it.”

Your stomach dropped. “Don’t you fucking do that to me, Dean. Dee, look at me.” You grabbed his face and forced him to look at you. “You cannot fucking give up. I won’t let you.” 

He turned his attention back to your wounds, moving to the last claw mark on your thigh. 

“I know you’re hurting,” you sniffed. “I know his death is killing you. It kills me to see you like this. But I’m not— ah!” You cried out when one of his stitches accidentally went too deep into your thigh. He looked at you apologetically as you continued to talk. “I’m not gonna let you trade places with your dad. You’re here for a reason. Your dad loved you enough to keep you here. And what you told Evan earlier? Have you even considered how much it would kill me if you were gone?! And Sam? Both of us would be crushed. You matter, Dean. Sam needs you.”

“(Y/N)—” he tried to stop your admissions as he finished wrapping your leg.

“No, dude. You need to hear this. I need to tell you this. I need you here, Dean. You’re my best friend. How do you think I’d feel if you were gone?”

He faced you. “I can’t— I can’t keep living like this.”

“And you won’t,” you said. “I know it’s cheesy, but it gets better. You won’t always dread waking up every day. You won’t always blame yourself. That’s just today.”

He shook his head. “How do you know that?”

You sighed. “Listen, both of us blame ourselves as the reason our dads are dead. And no matter how much I tell you that’s wrong, you’ll never believe me. Same way I’ll never believe you. And it hurts. I won’t lie to you. It fucking hurts for a while. But then… it gets better. Time and… the people in your life… make it better.”

He stared at you with sad eyes, unsure of what to say.

“And I know you don’t believe me right now, but… please, please, just trust me,” you begged.

Dean continued to stare at you, not saying anything, before standing up from the floor next to you. “C’mon, we gotta get back on the road.”

You sighed, trying to stand from the floor.

“Oh, fuck, I forgot,” he chuckled awkwardly, making you giggle. He swept you up in his arms and looked down at you with a gaze you couldn’t quite read. Dean then stared out ahead as he effortlessly carried you the rest of the way to the car. 

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

[is-your-blorbo-a-bottom]

Welcome to Is Your Blorbo a Bottom?

This is a polling blog to vote if you favorite characters are a bottom, top, or switch!

Submission rule

- please only characters 18+

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Please submit all your favorite characters!

Characters submitted in alphabetical order (by first name)

A

Anakin Skywalker- Star Wars

Astarion- Baldur’s Gate 3

B

Blitzø- Helluva Boss

Bucky Barnes- the MCU

C

Castiel- Supernatural

Chris Redfield- Resident Evil

Cole- Lego Ninjago

Crowley- good omens

D

Dean Winchester- supernatural

Death- Discworld

Double Trouble- She-Ra

E

Eleanor Shellstrop- The Good Place

G

Gale Dekarios - Baldur's Gate 3

Gallagher - Honkai Star Rail

Greg House- House MD

H

Hawks from My Hero Academia

I

Isami Ao- Bang Brave Bang Bravern

J

Jace Beleren- Magic the Gathering

Janus Sanders- Sanders Sides

Jolyne Cujoh- JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

K

Kazi- The Dragon Prince

Keiji Shinogi- Your Turn to Die

Keith Kogane- Voltron

L

Lammio- the Unknown Soldier

Laois- dungeon meshi

Leonard Church- Red vs Blue

Leone Abbacchio - JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Loona- Helluva Boss

Lucien La'chance- Oblivion

Lucifer- Hazbin Hotel

M

macaque- lego monkie kid

maglor- the silmarillion

Merlin- BBC Merlin

Miles Edgeworth- Ace Attorney

N

Needles- The Magnus Protocol

Nori Doorman- Murder Drones

O

Oko- Magic the Gathering

Optimus Prime- Transformers: Prime

P

PIXAL- Lego Ninjago

Prince Sidon from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Q

Quentin Coldwater- The Magicians

R

Reiner Braun- attack on titan

Rei Suwa- Buddy Daddies

Rikiel- jojos bizarre adventure

ryomen sukuna- jujutsu kaisen

S

Sampo Koski - Honkai Star Rail

Senshi- Delicious in Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi

Seth Gordon- All For The Game

Shin Tsukimi- Your Turn to Die

Stolas - Helluva Boss

T

The Lamb - Cult of the Lamb

The tenth Doctor - Doctor Who

Tomura Shigaraki - My Hero Academia

V

Vash the Stampede- Trigun

Virgil Sanders- Sanders Sides

Vox- Hazbin hotel

W

Will Halstead- Chicago Med

William Birkin- Resident evil 2

Wolf on the Cookie Crisp Cereal Box

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Crossroad Blues

Masterlist

"So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database." Sam said as we sit at a table in a diner and Sam was looking through his computer. "Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something." Dean said, grinning. "Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder, we've gotta be more careful now." I said to him and he shrugs.

"Well, what do they got on you two?" He asked Sam looks through the computer. "I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet." He mutters. "No accessory? Nothing?" Dean asked. "Shut up." Sam growls and Dean starts to laugh. "You're jealous." He said. "No, I'm not!" Sam said, angrily. "Uh-huh. All right. What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?" Dean asked and I roll my eyes and shake my head.

Sam shuts his computer, annoyed, and pulls out several pages of research. "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed." Sam said as Dean and I look through the pages. "Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?" Dean said. "Two days earlier." Sam replied.

"Did he actually say Black Dog?" I asked him. "Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive." Sam replied.

"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?" Dean asked. "Well, maybe." Sam said, shrugging. "What's the lore on the Hound of the Baskerville?" I asked and Sam chuckles a bit at this as he passes some pages to us. "It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but...some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty..." Sam said as Dean flips to a picture of a large black dog.

"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" He said as he holds up the picture and smirks. I let out a snort while Sam glares at us, making Dean's smirk slip. "What? They could." Dean said.

In a posh, well-lit room, the boys and I were wearing suits and interviewing a man about Sean Boyden. "So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asked him. "That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?" The man said, suspiciously, before I talk over him. "A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest." I said and the man laughs.

"This funny to you?" Dean asked him. "No, it...it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind...well, he gets another tribute." He said. "Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam asked. "I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life." The man replied.

"How so?" I asked him. "He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I...and it wasn't always that way, either." The man replied. "No?" We said, questionable. "You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive." The man said.

"Right. So what changed?" Sam asked and the man shrugs. "You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing...he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart..." then the man cuts off abruptly.

"What?" Dean asked him. "It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why...why just throw it away?" The man asked us.

Later, Dean exits the Animal Protection Agency, still wearing the suit. Sam and I were waiting in the car and DeN gets in the driver's side. "So." We said. "Secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty three, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real." Dean said and Sam let's out a sigh as I flick Dean's ear. 

"Ow!" He exclaimed and I glare at him. "You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?" I asked him and he holds up a page. "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all. And, uh..." he said as he pulls off a Post-it note. "I don't know what this thing is." He said.

Sam takes it, reads it, and laughs then glances at Dean "You mean Carly's MySpace address?" Sam said, smiling, while Dean and I look at him, confused. "What the hell is that?" I asked and Sam laughs again. "Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?" Dean asked with a smile. "Is everything in your world linked to porn?" I asked him, annoyed. Dean looks up, thinking, then said. "Yeah." I shake my head, annoyed, while Sam chuckles.

Afterwhile, we approach another white suburban door and knock. "I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard..." Dean grumbles. "Aw, don't worry, I'll protect you from the big, bad Pomeranian." I said in a mocking voice and Dean glares at me as the door opens to reveal a young woman.

"Afternoon, ma'am." Dean said as we pull out our ID. "Uh, Animal Control." He said. "Oh, someone already came yesterday." She said to us. "Oh, we're just following up. We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?" Sam asked and the woman let's us in.

"The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago." The woman said to us. "Okay. And you are...?" I said, curiously. "I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid." She replied. "So where did the Doctor go?" Dean asked. "I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?" The woman asked.

"Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?" Sam asked her. "Well, no. I never even heard it." She said as I look around and take a photograph off the wall: it shows a woman, presumably Pearlman, at a bar with two friends. "I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..." the woman said and I turn to her.

"Hey, you know I read she was, uh chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That's pretty young for that job." I pointed out. "Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position...ten years ago?" The woman said and I give a surprised noise.

"Huh. An overnight success. Ten years ago." Sam said as he and Dean come up to me. "Yeah, we know a guy like that." Dean said and I look at the photo closer. "Oh, look at this." I said and I hold up the photo and flip it over to show writing on the back. "Lloyd's Bar." I said.

We pull up outside Lloyd's Bar and get out. As we walk towards the bar, Dean looks to the side and stops in his tracks. "Hey." He said and Sam and I stop. "Yeah?" We said. "That's weird." Dean said as he points at the yellow flowers that are growing on the sides of the road.

"What?" Sam asked Dean. "Think someone planted these?" Dean asked. "Middle of all these weeds?" I said, disbelief. "These are, uh, what do you call 'em." Dean said as he looks at the flowers. "Yarrow flowers?" Sam said and Dean nods. "Yeah. Used for certain rituals, aren't they?" He asked. "Yeah, actually. Summoning rituals." Sam replied.

"Heh. So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's." I said as I look around to see that we were in the middle of a crossroad. "Where there just happens to be a crossroads." Sam said then he turns to us. "You think?" He asked. "Let's find out." Dean said.

Then he walks to the center of the crossroads and looks around, measuring. "This seem about the dead center to you?" Dean asked us and we nod. He digs a few inches into the hard soil and hits something solid. He stops. "Yahtzee." He said and he drops the shovel and digs with his hands, pulling out an old rusted box.

He opens it, revealing that it contains several small bones, a picture and a small stoppered jar that Sam takes out. "I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone." Sam said. "That's serious spellwork. I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff." I said. "Used to summon a demon." Sam said.

"Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good." Dean said. "They're seeing dogs, all right. But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls." I said and Dean nods. "Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough." Dean said.

"So it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?" Sam said and we nod. "Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music." Dean said to us. I nod but Sam shrugs. "You don't know Robert Johnson's songs?" I asked him and he shakes his head.

"Sam, there's, there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?" Dean said and Sam frowns, then Dean rolls his eyes and I sigh. "The story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs." Dean explains. "And now it's happening all over again." Sam said. "Yeah." Dean and I said.

"We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here." Sam said and Dean scoffs. "Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play Let's Make A Deal." Dean said, annoyed.

"So what, we should just leave them to die?" I asked Dean. "Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?" Dean asked me. "Dean." Sam and I said, exasperated. "All right. Fine." Dean grumbles. "Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive." Dean said, holding up the picture, and we head inside.

"What's this guy's name again?" Sam asked as we walk up a set of wide, wooden stairs to the fourth floor of an apartment. "George Darrow. Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's." I said while Dean looks around. "Though this house probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?" He said. "Yeah. So whatever kind of deal he made..." Sam trails off. "Wasn't for cash. Oh, who knows. Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis." Dean said and Sam and I laugh.

"No, I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due. Hope at least he asked for something fun." Dean said as we reach the landing and stop in front of apartment 4C. The floor is dusted with a fine black powder.

"Look at that." I said and we crouch down, fingering it. "What is that, pepper?" Dean asked when the door opens to reveal a middle-aged man with graying hair, wearing a grimy t-shirt and open button-down. 

"Who the hell are you?" He asked us, in a threatening tone. "George Darrow?" I said. "I'm not buying anything." He said as he starts shut the door. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker there. Heh. Usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt." Dean said to him as George looks between the three of us.

"I don't know what you talkin' about." He said. "Talkin' about this." Dean said as he holds up the small picture. "Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?" He asked and George stares at us. "Look. We want to help. Please. Just five minutes." Sam said to him. George looks at us for a moment then opens the door to let us in.

George shows us in and pours himself a glass of whisky. The studio apartment is filled with paintings, completed and half-finished, and a table holds painting supplies. "So what is that stuff out front?" I asked him. "Goofer Dust." He replied and we look at him, blankly.

"What, you three think you know somethin' about somethin' but not Goofer dust?" George asked us and he tosses Dean a brown sack, tied close with twine. He catches it. "Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous." Dean said to him.

"What is it?" Sam asked, nodding at the brown sack. "Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons." George said. "Demons we know." Dean said. "Well, then. Maybe it'll do you some good." George said as he walks over to a chair. "Four minutes left." He said.

Dean glances at us then Sam takes the lead. "Mr. Darrow. We know you're in trouble." Sam said. "Yeah, that you got yourself into." Dean said. "But it's not hopeless, all right?" I said, half-directing that towards Dean. "There's gotta be something we can do." I said as I turn to George. "Listen. I get that you three want to help. But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place." He said.

"What'd you do it for?" Dean asked. "I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just...I just never thought about the price." George said. "Was it worth it?" I asked him. "Hell no. 'Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I'm still broke, and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst." George said, angrily.

"Go on." Sam said. "Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?" George said. "How many others are there?" I asked him. "Uh, the architect, that doctor lady — I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous." George grumbles.

"Who else, George? Come on, think." Dean said. "One more. Uh, nice guy too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for." George said. "No. No, there's gotta be a way." Sam said. "You don't get it! I don't want a way!" George yells.

"Look, you don't--" 

"I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time." George said then he starts to get up, interrupting Sam. "Okay, kids. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help." He said.

"We can't just —" 

"Get out! I got work to do." George yelled at me. "You don't really want to die." Sam said, firmly. "I don't? I'm...I'm tired." George said as he turns to his painting. The boys and I share a look before we leave George to his painting.

The boys and I approach Evan's front door and I go and knock on the door. A moment later, a man opens the door. "Yes?" He answers. "Evan Hudson?" Sam asked and he nods. "You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago." Dean said. Terrified, Evan slams the door and latches it. 

"Come on, we're not demons!" I said as we hear him run then Sam turns to me and Dean. "Any other bright ideas?" Sam asked us. Dean steps back, sets himself, then kicks the door down in one go. "Well, that's one way." I said and we enter the house.

Once we make it to the back room, Dean prepares to kick down that door too but I catch his leg, stopping him. "What—" Dean start to say but I look at him pointedly. Then Sam turns the handle and pushes the door open gently. The room is quiet as we enter.

"Evan?" Sam calls out and Evan jumps out from behind a bookshelf. "Please! Don't hurt me." He pleads to us but Sam and I hold our hands out, pacifying. "We're not going to hurt you, all right? We're here to help you." Sam said to him, kindly. "We know all about the genius deal you made." Dean said, angrily.

"What? How?" Evan asked. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is, we're trying to stop it." Dean said. "How do I know you're not lying?" Evan asked us. "Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy." Dean said and Evan swallows and starts pacing.

"Can you stop it?" Evan asked us. "Don't know. We'll try." I said and Evan looks over at us, with fear. "I don't want to die." He said, tearfully. "Of course you don't, not now." Dean sneered and Sam turns to him. "Dean. Stop." He said, quietly.

"What'd you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?" Dean asked. "My wife." Evan replied and Dean laughs. "Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for." Dean said and I grab his arm. "Dean, stop." I said to him, firmly.

"No. He's right, I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm, that...woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but...I don't know how to—I was desperate." Evan replied. "Desperate?" Sam and I asked, confused.

"Julie was dying." Evan said and we stand there in shock. "You did it to save her?" Dean asked him. "She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying...a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot." Evan said and I give him a sympathetic smile.

"Did you ever think about her in all this?" Dean asked him. "I did this for her." Evan replied and Dean advances on him. "You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?" Dean asked, angrily, and Sam and I put a hand on Dean's chest, pulling him back.

"Okay, that's enough." Sam said and Dean turns and walks away. I sigh then turn to Sam and Evan. "You just sit tight, all right? We're going to figure this out." I said to Evan then I look at Sam. "Stay here with him, I'll talk to Dean." I said and I follow Dean into the hallway.

"You all right?" I asked him, concerned. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Hey, I got an idea." Dean said and he pulls out the Goofer dust. "You and Sam throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you guys can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon." Dean said and my jaw drops.

"Summon— are you nuts?" I asked as I look at him like he was insane. "Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent." Dean said to me.

"Yeah, but how much time?" I asked. "I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine." He said and I shake my head. "No. No way." I said. "You're not allowed to say no, (y/n), not unless you've got a better idea." Dean exclaims.

"Dean, you can forget it, all right? I'm not letting you summon that demon." I said. "Why not?" Dean asked me, angrily. "Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not." I shouted.

"What are you talking about?" He asked me. "You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why." I said and he rolls his eyes. "We don't have time for this." He said and he brushes past me.

"John." I said as I turn and see that he stopped in his tracks. "You think maybe John made one of these deals, huh? Hell. I've been thinking it. I'm sure you and Sam have been thinking it too." I said and Dean lowers his head. "It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved." He said, softly. "What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?" Dean asked, quietly, as he turns to me.

Before I could say anything, we hear Evan shouting. "I think I hear it! It's outside!" We look towards the door as Sam said. "Guys!" Dean and I look back at each other then Dean said. "Just keep him alive, okay?" 

"Dean..." I said, worried, but he shakes his head. "Go!" He said and I frown, slightly, then I walk up to him and kiss his cheek. I pull back and I could see a shock look on his face then I placed my right hand on his cheek. "Be careful, okay?" I said. He nods and leaves then I head back into the office room.

After explaining Dean's idea, Sam and I started sprinkling the dust in a line before the windows. Then we start making a circle of it around Evan, who stands in the middle of the room. "What is that stuff?" He asked us. "Goofer dust." Sam replied.

"You serious?" Evan asked. "Yeah. 'Fraid so. Look. Believe us, don't believe us, whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, all right?" I said to him and Evan nods then hugs himself.

He stands in the middle of the circle that Sam and I just finish as I shake the bag to get out the last grains. "That's the last of it." I said then we stand there and look around until Evan whirls around, like he could hear something.

"What?" Sam and I asked him. "You hear that?" Evan asked us, fear etched all over his face. "No, where?" Sam asked then Evan looks at the door. "Right outside the door." He said then the doors begin to rattle violently. Sam and I then step inside the circle.

Side by side inside the circle of dust, Evan, Sam and I stare tensely at the rattling door. "Just don't move, all right? Stay where you are." I said to Evan. The rattling became louder, and more violent, then suddenly it stops. 

Sam and I exchange a look before we, cautiously, look around. "Do you still hear it?" Sam asked Evan. "No. Is it over?" Evan asked us. "Don't know...maybe." I said when rumbling sound comes from  the wall. The three of us whirl to stare at the grating just as it bursts outward, kicking dust into the room. 

"It's here!" Evan screams as we see a visible wind coming through and surrounding us. "No! Back inside the circle!" I shout and we gathered close together in the middle of the circle.

Deep claw marks gouge into the floor in a path towards the circle; they stop just before the edge. We back away slowly, while the wind started to eat away at our protective circle. "Circle's broken. Come on!" Sam shouts and we pull Evan out of the room and down the hall.

We dart into a storeroom and slam the door behind us. Sam and I braces ourselves against it while the Hellhounds start to pound it down. Dean, hurry up! I thought, frantically, as the pounding on the door got more and more violent. Suddenly, the pounding stops and Sam and I look at each other then over at Evan, the three of us panting.

After making sure Evan was okay and Dean returned from the crossroads, Dean drives us down a dark road as he explains what happened. "Demons lie all the time, right? Maybe she was lying." Sam said to Dean, referring to the demon telling Dean that John made a deal to save his life. "Come on. That really what you think?" Dean asked Sam and Sam looks down.

"How could he do it?" Dean asked, disappointed and angry. "He did it for you." I said to him. "Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him...wherever he is right now. I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that...yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this." Dean said, angry.

"How many people do you think Dad saved? Total?" Sam asked. "That's not the point, Sam." Dean growls. "Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. But we're still here, man. So we gotta keep going, for him." Sam said to him and Dean stays silent.

"Dean?" I said, softly.

"Yeah." He replied and I swallow, nervously, fearing for the answer to my question. "When you were trapping that demon, you weren't...I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?" I asked him. Dean told us that the demon would let Evan live if Dean would trade his life for Evan, ten years of course he would get but after that....he would be gone.

Dean stares straight ahead, then turns his head towards the window. He reaches forward and turns the radio on full blast and doesn't say a word. Sam and I flinch then Sam looks over at me with a worried and nervous glance.

I bite my lips then let out a sigh and lean back in the seat and look out the window at the passing scenery.

[idkman-ijustwannamakeatournament]

Round 1 Two Sides of the Same Coin Matches:

Merlin and Arthur Pendragon v Qibli and Darkstalker

Quatre and Relena v Gon Freecss and Meruem

Yuno and Asta v Luke Skywalker and Anakin Skywalker

Bojack Horseman and Diane Nguyen v Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty

White and Black v Rick Grimes and Negan

Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg v Ryuunosuke Akutagawa and Atsushi Nakajima

Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi v Original Shen Qingqiu (Shen Jiu) and Original Luo Binghe (Bingge)

Cody 'Night Angel' Walsh and Ricky Matsui v Serizawa Katsuya and Kageyama "Mob" Shigeo

Edelgard von Hresvelg and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd v Megatron and Optimus Prime

Godzilla and Kiryu (AKA MechaGodzilla) v Kim Possible and Shego

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth v President Coriolanus Snow and President Alma Coin

Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson v Lin Paraeah and Terra Pierce

Aziraphale and Crowley v Fujiwara no Mokou and Houraisan Kaguya

Emma Alonso and Maddie Van Pelt v Ventus and Vanitas

Chikage Utsuki and Hisoka Mikage v Luz Noceda and Phillip Wittebane/Belos

Batman and Joker v Percy and Luke

Hajime Hinata and Nagito Komaeda v Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu

Stanley Pines and Bill Cipher v Josuke Higashikata and Yoshikage Kira

Aang and Zuko v Dean Winchester and Bella Talbot

Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane v Wilhelmina Pang and Hwei-Lan Gao

Loki Laufeyson and Mobius v Mulder and Skully

The 15th Doctor and Ruby Sunday v Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White

Catra and Hordak v Galadriel "El" Higgins and Orion Lake

Mello and Near v Uzi Doorman and Tessa James Elliot

Laios Touden and Kabru v Dawn/The Liberator and Tsuki/The Worldkeeper

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian v Sara and Night Swan

Miles Edgeworth and Eustace Winner/Sebastian DeBeste v Scrooge McDuck and Flintheart Glomgold

Chuuya Nakahara and Osamu Dazai v Hershel Layton and Jean Descole

Greg House and James Wilson v Red and Blue

The Doctor and The Master v Po and Shen

Vash and Nai/Knives v Zhu Yuanzhang and (General) Ouyang

Light Yagami and L v Nico Robin and Trafalgar Law

Point of the tournament:

[mummybear]

Getting Into Trouble

This Is Day 5 Of Roleplay May

Words: 4114

Warnings: Smut, Wall Sexy, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Think That’s It :P

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, (Marie) Reader’s Best Friend (OC), Sam Winchester, Unnamed Club Bitches

Summary: Meeting your best friend Marie at your local nightclub turns out to be a more exciting night that you had originally planned. Especially when your favourite doorman is on duty and doesn’t take his eyes off of you all night. This is also for @deanwanddamons​1Kfollowerchallenge So happy for you babe you deserve it :D I had the prompt .....  ‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

A cold chill whips through the summer air as you step out of the cab, quickly leaning inside the window to pay the driver. It doesn’t take long for you to approach the steps of the club, it’s a small but popular place. A place which had been quickly growing in popularity, largely thanks to the hot staff it had recently acquired, both inside and outside of the establishment. At least that’s what you had heard, however, you and your best friend Marie had been coming here for years before the change.

A small smile slips onto your lips when you spot your favourite bouncer and doorman, right at the front of the crowd standing on the very first step. He’s looking as handsome as ever, light brown hair styled just so, green eyes that are practically shining with that bad boy twinkle when he winks at you. 

He’s not as wide as the other guys, but he towers over them in height. With broad shoulders that you’ve often imagined clinging to and bow legs like no other man you’d ever seen. He’s dressed simply, but god does he wear all black extremely well. Tight black t-shirt, which you know from experience has the word security printed on the back in white block letters, with what look like tailor made pants and smart black shoes.

“Hey there sweetheart, long time no see” he greets you, just as friendly and charming as ever, with a gorgeous grin that’s all perfect teeth and plump lips. He takes your ID from you, letting his fingers gently graze yours, quickly glancing at it before he hands it back.

“Yeah it’s been a while, you’re still looking real good though” you smile sweetly, the tip of your tongue poking out between your lips as your eyes rake over him, appreciating every perfect inch of that man. 

“Uh, thanks” the blush that coats his freckled cheeks is so cute, you would’ve thought he was used to the compliments by now. He licks hips plump pink lips and flicks his eyes up to meet yours again. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn sexy yourself” he rasps, voice sounding a little deeper than before as he nips at his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Hopefully I’ll see you later and you’ll finally tell me your name this time” you smile back, returning his earlier wink and tucking your ID back in your bag. 

 “I’d really like that. Just don’t go and get yourself into any trouble. I will throw you over my shoulder this time” he warns you playfully, you don’t miss how he lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body. 

You have to practically press your body against his to get inside, what with the amount of people trying to squeeze inside all at once. You look up at him through your black lashes, giving him your best seductive look. “Oh, promises, promises Mr green eyes. I might just have to get myself into a little trouble then” you wink as he shakes his head at you, giving you a gentle shove inside. 

“Go! I’ve gotta work!” he laughs, finally turning away from you.

The moment that you actually step into the club you realise just how busy it really is tonight. There’s the odd cluster of people here and there blocking your path. People that you almost have to fight your way through, as well as the idiots paying no attention and filtering in and out, being stopped by the doormen and bouncers for god only knows what reason.

The music is quite literally pumping, to the point that you can feel the vibrations under your feet. You really need a damn drink right now and the bar is completely packed. You were really happy with your outfit tonight though, choosing it hadn’t been too difficult once you’d found the right dress. It fit your body perfectly, it was black and purple and stopped a little above your knees. Luckily your heels weren’t too high, since you were definitely planning on dancing tonight, preferably without getting blisters.

You sigh defeated, seeing the size of the lines at the bar, as they continue to grow before your eyes.

Until you spot your best friend waving at you from her usual table by the bar. Relief fills you as you get ever closer, where you notice that she’s already gotten a few rounds at the table and of course she couldn’t forgo the shots. That would definitely save you the wait, meaning that you could get this night started right.

“So, I see Mr green eyes is back, he asked about you by the way,” Marie practically shouts into your ear as she pulls you into a hug.

“Yes he is and considering he works here babe, that’s not too strange” you laugh, ignoring her final comment, you pull back to look at her. “Oh and hello to you too by the way” 

“Sorry love I’ll behave. Or I’ll try at least” she winks as you both take your seats. You shake your head at her with a wry smile, unable to stop the scoff falling past your lips. 

“Yeah that’ll be the day, you’re worse than me!” laughing as you clink your shot glasses together, resting a hand over her heart Marie gasps. “Down the hatch, you dork!” you shout over the loud music and that fake hurt dissolves almost immediately making way for her devilish grin beneath.

Your time together is filled with conversations of mutual friends and things you’d both done since last meeting up. Not forgetting the unsuccessful dates you had both been on, Marie can’t help but remark that you’re sexually frustrated. “I dunno what you’re talking about honey, I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. Me and Mr Vibrator have it very much under control” you wink when she snorts with laughter, almost choking on her drink.

“Oh that is not the fucking same Y/N! And you damn well know it!” replying through a laugh while pushing another shot towards you. You roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile at her. You’d really missed this and as usual Marie understood more than she knew. “Nothing like a good hard fucking, which you so clearly need!” 

“I am not fucking some stranger! You know that’s just not me, besides who says some random guy is gonna be any good” you reason as she shrugs at your answer. 

“Doesn’t have to be a complete and total stranger. We both know someone who is just dying to get into those twisted panties of yours. Pretty sure that’s a man who knows his way around a woman” she winks, nodding over to where Mr green eyes is now standing, clearly it was time for a switch around at the club, since he’d come inside with one of his buddies and was chatting about something.

“Would you drop it woman! That man is so far out of my league. So can I please just have a great night out with my girl!” you sigh pushing another shot towards her with a pout.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. But he would be lucky to get in those pants” you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile as you take your next shot, she’d always been the best wing woman going.

The drinks keep flowing, thanks to the hot barman that Marie is currently waving at, he had apparently been trying to hook up with her for a while, but she was adamant they were only friends. It doesn’t take very long for the two of you to have a steady buzz going, after around five shots each and whatever cocktails she’d ordered before you’d got there.

“I wanna dance, come on. Please” your friend pouts at you, grabbing at your hand and dragging you off in the direction of the dance floor, she doesn’t give you time to argue. 

Those puppy dog eyes she gives you tends to always do the trick. Although, if you were being honest you were also in the mood for a dance, to try and get some of the pent up energy out of your system. Keeping your fingers crossed that hopefully you could stop your mind from wandering, back to that sexy green eyed doorman, which thanks to your wing woman was becoming increasingly difficult. 

The music was practically vibrating through your entire body as you and Marie stepped onto the dance floor. Christina Aguilera’s Dirty had just started playing, you glance up and spot Mr green eyes across the room, he was with  another doorman now, the only guy that you were aware of who was actually taller than him. To your surprise he’s looking right at you, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Marie walks behind you and grabs your hips, pressing herself tight against your back.

“What are you doing woman!” you laugh as she rests her chin on your shoulder, the two of you start to rock to the beat in time with one another, raising your arms in the air as you continue to rock back against her.

“Just go with it! He has not stopped staring at you since we stood up. Not to mention he’s with the tallest man I’ve ever seen and I’ve got the sudden urge to go man climbing” 

You burst out laughing at the serious way she says that, “Want a ride on man mountain huh?” you ask still half laughing as both continue moving to the beat, Marie giggles behind you as the beat speeds up. You’re slowly becoming more distracted as you watch them both move closer, your own hands start moving over your body, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

You drop down slowly, your ass pressing back into Marie, until you settle back on the heels of your feet, thinking back to a move in the music video for this song. You can feel the muscles of your calves and thighs tense as you lean forward slightly. Slowly sliding your hands down your thighs, stopping at your knees as you part your legs and quickly snap them shut again. Standing slowly, you keep your eyes fixed on Mr. Green eyes, whose fists are currently clenched at his sides. 

You don’t notice the way that his friend is staring at Marie as you push back into her with your ass, both of you laughing as she swats at it playfully and wraps her arms around you from behind. 

However, your happy moods are soon ruined when a drunk group of girls fight to get past you, the one at the front bumps into you and Marie, nearly knocking you both on your asses.

“Watch where you’re going!” she slurs shoving at your shoulders, causing you to stumble back a little unsteady on your heels.

“I’m sorry. What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who’s clearly drunk off their ass here. You walked into us!” you shout back over the music, resisting the urge to shove her back.

“Get your bitch in line. Nobody talks to my sister like that” one of the other girls squawks, sounding like an angry bird, as they all step closer to the both of you.

“What did you just fucking call her!” Marie snaps, stepping closer to the group. Where she receives a chorus of ‘you heard’ from the group of idiots. “Get your moron sister in line then, if she can’t walk straight she probably shouldn’t be here. She’s clearly had too much and needs to get her childish ass home!” Marie responds irritation lacing her tone as she tries to reason with these people. Just about managing to dodge out of the way just in time to avoid another shove.

“Stop fucking shoving people” you practically growl, finally your control snaps, shoving back as hard as you can, sending one of the girls stumbling back into the group.

“You stupid slut!” the defender shouts, raising her fist. But she’s quickly blocked by a large body and hand that’s twice the size catches her balled up fist.

“I warned you! You’re coming with me, Miss” someone growls to your side, you recognise that voice instantly, you can’t help but grin happily. Not quick enough to move away or turn to look at him properly before he throws you over one of those broad shoulders, causing you to let out an excited scream..

Your eyes search for Marie when you hear her over the music somehow. Finding her in an almost identical position to your own. Once she’s thrown over the giant's shoulder Marie gives you a thumbs up, smacking his ass as he walks away with her. The scenery behind you bumps around, swaying awkwardly as you’re carried through several doors, clinging to the back of his t-shirt for dear life as he walks..

Another door is kicked open, where you feel the cool breeze blow across your almost naked ass.

“So, where are we going Mr. mysterious?” you question, your voice dipping with his every step. 

When suddenly the back door to the club swings closed behind you with a loud bang.

A surprised noise you don’t recognise leaves your lips when he returns your earlier hit. With a harsh slap to your ass. Since apparently your dress had ridden up, it was a little more skin on skin that you’d been expecting. 

You hear him chuckle, right before he tugs the bottom of your dress down and bends over, carefully lowering you until your feet touch the ground again.You look up at him with a smile when his hands grab your hips, making sure that you’re stable on your own. 

Running your hands up his strong chest, your touch remains light, enjoying the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt. It’s really dark out here, with no real light. Only a few neon lights to light the alley way.

“I’m not sure that I approve of you manhandling-” your words are silenced when his plump lips suddenly press against yours, with an urgency you hadn’t expected. 

Your hands fist in his tight t-shirt in an attempt to pull his body closer, while he walks you backwards and presses you into the wall. You feel his tongue brush against your lips when they part, gripping your leg tight he hooks it over his hip, rolling his hips into you. You can feel the bulge through his black pants, pressing against the front of your panties, nudging repeatedly at your clit. The way he feels against you only encourages you to rock back against him.

Your tongues finally meet and you can taste the faint whiskey that lingers there, somehow you knew he’d be a whiskey man. 

Your hands move to fist in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours and the groan that fills the back of his throat, he even manages to pull a small moan slips past your lips.

“Name’s Dean by the way” he breathes against your lips, before pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

“Y/N. Fuck…. Dean suits you,” you reply in a breathy moan, throwing your head back against the brick wall as he starts kissing down your neck, pausing to suck and nip marks into your skin.

“Wanted to do this for so long. Getting me told off every time you come in sweetheart, can’t damn well concentrate on the job” he groans against your ear, pushing your dress up around your waist so he can grip your ass tight with those big calloused hands.

“Me too, I would say I was sorry, but I don’t wanna lie” you confess with a half-hearted giggle, gasping when his finger brushes against your soaked pussy from behind, briefly dipping under your panties. 

Your hands slip between the two of you. Dean leans back a little, catching on to what you’re doing, allowing you to undo his belt while he pushes a hand between your legs. You whimper when his fingers start to run back and forth over the front of your damn panties.

Once his pants are open you shove them down those gorgeous bow legs as far as you can. Dean lets out a throaty groan when your fingers wrap around his thick hard length. Letting his forehead drop forward against yours when you start to move your hand over him, up and down, feeling the thick muscle throb against your palm.

“You’re so wet baby, can’t wait to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock” Dean whispered huskily against your lips, pushing your panties to the side, he eases two thick fingers inside you. 

Your free hand clings to his bicep, looking into his eyes as your pussy stretches deliciously around his fingers. The perfect drag against your tight walls as he starts moving his fingers inside you, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

“Dean, fuck me. Please. I need you inside me” you whine desperately, rolling your hips down into his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. 

Chuckling deep and breathy, Dean curls his fingers teasingly as your thumb swipes across the swollen tip, smearing the thick pre-come down his length. 

Which triggers you both to moan into each other's mouths. 

Pulling your hands away from one another, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, as he sucks his slick covered fingers between his plump lips. Transfixed you watch the way his tongue swirls around his fingers and he moans, keeping his darkened green eyes locked on yours. As he pulls them from his mouth with an audible pop.

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice sweetheart” he tells you with a grin and that panty dropping wink.

You can faintly hear the music that’s playing in the club, the bass pounding against your back. The lyrics you manage to hear work so damn well for your current situation and you’re almost convinced that Marie had requested it. 

‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

You jump when he taps your leg, that bad boy twinkle still very much present in those gorgeous eyes of his. He lifts you easily, slamming you back against the wall. You whimper at the force of it, the rough brick scraping against your back and arms, as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Gripping his cock Dean watches it slip through your slick folds, his own lips parting, pulling breathy moans and whimpers from you. “You want my cock sweetheart? You want it hard, right where anyone could see us?” Dean rasps, fingers digging into your ass as he shifts you slightly. 

“Fuck yes! Please, Dean!” 

Your hands push into the hair at the back of his neck gripping tightly when he finally stops teasing and lines up with your entrance. Catching his bottom lip between your lips you suck gently, before dragging your teeth over it as he slowly enters your welcoming heat. 

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you squeeze your eyes shut, finally releasing his lip when he thrusts up into you hard, causing the rough bricks to cut into your back. 

Dean hisses in pain when your fingers dig into his scalp, hair woven between your fingers as you tug. Pulling back he repeats the action, quickly thrusting his hips forward roughly plunging back into your soaking wet pussy.

Picking up a slow steady rhythm, deep and powerful, his teeth tug at the skin along your collarbone, creating a little sting of pain which only adds to the pleasure. Tugging the front of your dress out of the way with the cup of your bra, he keeps those green eyes locked on yours as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, tugging with his plump lips and sharp teeth. Groaning against your skin he swirls that talented tongue around the slowly hardening bud, the snap of his hips pushing your heels into his firm ass.

You’re forced to slap a hand over your mouth when he thrusts particularly hard, to stop yourself from screaming his name, feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to wind and clench as the head of his cock bumps repeatedly against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

There’s the obvious feeling when his lips pull into a smile against your breast, he draws back, dragging those perfect white teeth over the stiff peak. One of his big hands wraps around your wrists and pins them back against the wall as his thrusts begin to speed up.

“Don’t hold it in. Wanna fucking here you screaming for me. I don’t care who hears you begging for my cock” he practically growls, fingers flexing against your ass cheek as the blunt nails dig into your skin.

Your head is swimming with his words, every feeling amplified by the thought of anyone catching you both in the act. “Holy shit you’ve got a dirty mouth, Dean” you pant against his lips, nails digging into your palms. The scratching of the rough brick as it drags against your soft skin, causes you to whimper with every snap of his hips.

“And don’t you just love it, bad girl,” he grunts with an edge of a chuckle, when he feels your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, squeezing and clamping down. Your only answer is filled with nonsensical and incoherent sentences, the only thing that comes out clearly is the chanting of his name, with a mixture of mumbled cussing and pleas. 

Your thighs start to shake as Dean squeezes a hand between the two of you, rough calloused fingers pressing against your clit, hard fast circles as his fingers tighten around your wrists.

“Fuck Dean! Just like that, please!” 

Your head drops back against the wall, only seeing the black night sky and stars, which starts to mix with the neon lights as the feeling overwhelms you. Your orgasm hits you hard, rocketing through your every nerve ending like lightning, but Dean doesn’t stop thrusting. 

“Son of bitch! Should have done this ages ago. So damn perfect Y/N. Gonna fucking fill you up sweetheart”

Clenching his jaw Dean presses his face into your neck, his hot breath against your skin. 

The hand that’s gripping your wrists drops, resting against the wall as he bucks into your pussy at an uncontrollable pace, your slick soaking his thighs. 

The vibrations of his every growl and moan, mixed with the pounding of his hips. Only serving to prolong your orgasm, so much so that you’re forced into another mind blowing climax, pushing Dean into his own release right behind you. You feel his orgasm hit, causing his thighs to shake under your ass. 

A huff of air is released from your lungs when Dean practically collapses on top of you, leaning on his hand as much as possible.

You quickly feel his weight shift as he pulls his chest away from yours slightly, you feel him smile against your lips when he presses a kiss to them. You can’t help but whimper at the loss and sensitivity when he pulls his hips back, his softening cock slipping from inside you. 

“Did I miss something? What’s so funny. Mr green eyes?” you smile back, still breathing a little heavily as he helps you rearrange your dress and pulls up his black pants and boxers. 

Shrugging he turns to look over his shoulder, following his line of sight your heart almost jumps out of your chest. There’s a security camera sitting just under the guttering, red light blinking away undisturbed.

“I guess for someone in security I probably should’ve remembered that was there, huh?” he laughs still out of breath, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“You think!?” you exclaim doing your best to sound annoyed, until the laughter starts to bubble up in your throat. “Get your ass in there and get that video!” you playfully scold him, making sure to smack that tight little ass.

“You want me to wipe it from the record?” he asks with a smirk and that bad boy twinkle in his eyes.

Biting your lip you shake your head, “Just do what you need to. Get it and let's go” 

“You’re a bad influence on me sweetheart” the wink he throws your way says otherwise.

“I might have believed that, if you hadn’t just fucked my brains out, in the alley against the building where you work” you laugh gently pushing him towards the back door you’d both left through earlier.

“Touche” Dean chuckles, grabbing your hand and tugging you inside. 

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[smol-and-grumpy]

What I Want Most - One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: NSFW, mostly daddy kink, rough oral, praise kink, rough sex, one-night stand to enemies to lovers (is that a trope?)

Word Count: 6840 (whoops!)

A/N: Apparently, I can not write pwp anymore. This should have been a one shot but it ended up a mini series. Sorry.

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

“C’mon, man!” Gabe urges, his hand comes up to pat Dean’s padded shoulder. 

He’s still in his suit, having gone into work because of that damn project. The deadline is on Monday, and that’s also the day that the execs want to talk to him. He still doesn’t know what’s it about, fears the worst. Maybe he has a reason to? Dean doesn’t know why they would fire him, though. Since he had the news that they wanted to talk to him on Monday, he’s been working harder, knelt himself deeper into the workload, was barely home and if he did, it was just to sleep, only to get up and go to work before dawn. 

It’s crazy. It really is, because it’s not even his dream job but he still needs it. At least until Sam moves over here in a couple of weeks. So, the goal is to hold on to this job for as long as Dean can.

Gabe has picked him up from work, complaining that Dean hasn’t got any time for drinks anymore. Little does Gabe know that he’s been drinking himself to sleep every night lately. And Gabe’s fucking persistent. He was waiting outside the building until Dean had come out and now he coerced him into standing in line for a hip club that has the reputation for debauchery and illegality. It’s just a rumor. Dean’s never been here, but Gabe apparently had.

“This better be good, Gabe,” Dean grits his teeth. The wind is chilly tonight, but for most of the people in the queue, especially women, there's apparently no reason to wear more clothes. 

“It will be, once we get in,” His friend says and rights his suit. It’s weird to see Gabe in a suit, a rare sight, but he wore it because suits always get you into things in the city, “There’s going to be so many girls, huh?” Gabe elbows him in the ribs, “Maybe you can find one to help you to unwind,”

They’re next in line and Dean moves up with Gabe, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. Well, Gabe is not really wrong. It has been a while since he scored, even longer when he had something steady. It’s not that Dean didn’t want to. It’s more like he can’t find the time. His last relationship, or what felt like it, was over a year ago, and already then, she ghosted him because Dean ghosted her first. Not deliberately, though, he was just busy. And business is a constant lately.

Maybe Gabe is right, Dean wouldn’t mind finding someone tonight. It would be welcoming to take off the edge, forget the looming Monday for a couple of hours. 

They are finally at the front of the queue, and the doorman ushers them through the open door. As soon as they enter the building, the bass of the music hits him. The bass vibrates through his body, traveling up his spine. 

There are plenty of girls, scantily clad, dancing and laughing, waiting for someone to pick them up and buy them a drink. He wonders if he’ll find one he likes. He’s picky, doesn’t want to hook up for the sake of hooking up, if that makes sense. Dean kind of hopes he’d find one with a buried daddy issue, which is really not hard to find in the city, he just needs to be alert and read their body language.

He follows Gabe across the dance floor as the man shoulders his way through to the bar, finds a spot and plants himself there at the counter, making himself bigger than he really is. Dean joins him, smirks proudly at his friend as he orders them a drink. It’s him paying, like he always does with Gabe. Gabe is a good friend but Dean still earns more so that’s the least he can do for what Gabe’s doing for him, being there whenever Dean needs a friend.

While they wait for their drinks, Gabe looks around, eyes scanning the dance floor. Dean watches him at first, watches him smile at something, and turns his head to look at the source that produces the smile on Gabe’s face. 

That little shit has already found his prey. 

“Don’t wait up for me, I guess.” Gabe looks back to Dean and takes his drink, walks across the dance floor to dance with a girl who’s more than willing to share the drink with Gabe. 

Dean turns back to the bar, his elbows braced on the counter as she shakes his head and chuckles. 

Suddenly, there’s a voice beside him and it seems like it’s talking to him.

“Hey, big guy, can you move a little?”

He tilts his head to look at the woman, who appears to be alone. Dean’s interest is piqued. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” He moves a couple of inches to the left, gives her room to press herself against the counter. 

She smiles, leans herself over the top to talk to the tender, her tits squashed on the bar top. While the bartender prepares her drink, she’s still leaning over the counter but she turns to him with a smile. With the tilt of her head and body, he can see that her tits almost spill out. Dean can’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You come here often?” He asks with a crooked smile. 

“Nah,” She smiles back, “I just moved here today, starting a new job on Monday. Just needed a break from unpacking so a friend brought me here. You?”

“First time,” Dean replies, “Where’s your friend?”

“She went to the back,” She says, “Apparently there are rooms?”

Dean shrugs, “I wouldn’t know.” With his next breath, he adds, “Names Dean, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean, I’m Y/N,”

When her drink arrives, a seat at the bar becomes available and Dean urges her to sit down. She does, albeit reluctantly. While she sits, her skirt rides up a little, exposing the tender flesh of her thighs. He’d like to touch, he really does, but Dean has to be clever about it. 

They are talking while Dean orders more drinks.

“What about your parents?” He asks after a while of talking. He knows that she’s been living in another city, works in the same field as he does, came here for a job but when Dean asked where she’s working, she wouldn’t say and that’s a good girl because people can’t be trusted, not even him. She just finished talking about her one sibling whom she doesn’t talk to anymore. It’s different for him and Sammy. 

“Just my mom, I never knew my dad,”

Yahtzee.

They keep on talking and Dean gets bolder, stands beside her at first with an arm around her waist. He rubs circles on her back with his thumb and she smiles at him, laughs at his stupid jokes too. 

After one more drink, she’s scrambling out of her seat and stands back at the bar, and he should be wondering why but he isn’t. He just knows. She presses her body against the counter and Dean cages her in from behind, lowers his mouth to her ear, places a soft kiss there that makes her shudder noticeably. He chuckles low. 

“You wanna come back to mine?” He whispers lower than he chuckled out before, noses behind her ear and moves lower, plants little kisses down her neck, making her arch her back, driving her sweet ass against his crotch. He’s semi-hard from thinking of what he’ll do to her, only getting harder with the rubbing. 

“You want that?”

“Yeah,” Dean darts out his tongue, swirls it around her earlobe and there’s an actual moan. 

His right hand travels down the front of her body, fingers span wide on her stomach and it dips lower. He watches her breath hitch in her throat, feels her shivering. 

“What would you do to me, huh?” 

Instead of answering right away, Dean’s hand goes further down, hitches the seam of her skirt up a little, teases the tip of his middle finger along her clothed pussy. 

“Oh god,” She groans and throws her head back to rest on his chest while her back is still arched. 

He chuckles, “Call me Dean,”

His hand goes further down, and she parts her legs a little. A fucking good girl, indeed. He rubs long her lace panties, feels the fabric damp. He gets bolder too, his fingers hook into the crotch of her panties, pulling it aside. 

It’s skin on skin and Dean lets out an audible groan at the wetness he feels, bites into the junction of her shoulder where it meets her neck. It prompts her to drive her ass into him harder. 

“You’re fucking soaked, baby, is that because of me, huh?”

He flicks at her clit with his thumb, dips just inside of her wet pussy with the tip of his middle finger. 

“Uh-huh,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Dean chuckles as he pushes his finger in some more but not too much. It’s just a tease after all. He closes his eyes, groans again. He’s fucking hard by now and he presses closer to her ass, making her feel what’s going to await her.

“You’re so wet and warm,” He breathes out next to her ear, “Who’s making you so wet, huh?” 

“Fuck,” 

“Who, baby?” He goes further in, applies more pressure with his thumb.

“Y-you… you, daddy,”

Y/N doesn’t seem to have noticed the word she let slip out, or she’s too far gone to care if he’d be appalled by it.

He sucks in her earlobe with a chuckle, releases it before he nibbles at them. Not so much that it hurts, but enough to inflict a little pained pleasure, “Yeah? Did daddy make you all wet, huh? Jesus, you’re so tight and warm, making me want to fuck you so bad,”

“Do it,” She drives her ass back, wriggles with it deliberately, “Please? Daddy?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

She really is into this. 

“Gonna take you home first, baby, you up for that? Huh?” His other hand massages up her throat and Dean paints along her mouth with two of his fingers. He can’t really see but he can feel. 

Nodding her head, she opens her mouth, sucks his digits in, and swirls her tongue around them. 

Fuck.

“Your mouth, baby,” He whispers, “Feels good around my fingers, would love to see them around daddy’s cock,” 

“Mmmh,” A moan of approval accompanied by a shiver.

“Would you like that, huh? Like for daddy to use your mouth? Let you suck my cock like the good girl you are?” Her pussy clenches around the one digit and Dean grins, “Yeah you do. Gonna use your sweet mouth, can’t wait to feel those lips around my fat cock, baby girl,” He pushes his fingers deeper into her mouth, feeling her retching against him, “Yeah, gonna make you choke on daddy’s cock. That’s what you like, don’t you?” 

She hums around his digit, and her pussy clenches some more. 

Dean really hit the jackpot tonight. He should send Gabe a thank you card for bringing him out here.

“C’mon, let daddy take you home,” 

Y/N didn’t realize the word that slipped out of her mouth, but she was glad Dean ran along with it. Using it even more afterward too. He got harder hearing it out of her mouth, an added bonus, really. There aren’t a lot of guys who are into it and god, that guy is hot and is fully on board with it? She fucking loves this city. 

He doesn’t live too far, it was just a ten minute ride, where he moved close to her and let her drape a leg over his thighs. His fingers are in her pussy, fucking her with them while he fucks her mouth with his tongue to the same rhythm. Her hand is on his crotch, palming and rubbing him through his slacks. 

Dean groans into her mouth, parts just for a minute to catch his breath, and whispers low,  “Jesus, can’t wait to get my dick into that tight pussy, baby girl,”

Fuck. She can’t wait either. His filthy mouth turns her on so much. 

The cab comes to a halt at a building which is in the nicer part of the city. She wished she had enough money to live here one day. Maybe she will one day with the new job she’s starting on Monday. 

He lets go of her long enough to pay the driver and she tugs her skirt down as she gets out. Dean holds out a hand for her to take before he guides her into the building and into the elevator. 

Pushing her against the wall, he presses his one thigh between her legs, the skirt riding up in the process. He kisses her again, his one hand braced on the elevator wall, his other hand around her throat, applying enough pressure for her to not feel like he’s restricting her. His mouth hovers around hers and he moves in, pecks her lips gently, “Come on, rub your sweet cunt on my thigh, baby. Get yourself warm and nice for me,”

She nods and he claims her mouth, kisses her hard, the scruff rubbing against her cheek, his tongue licking into it deep as she moves her hips and rubs her ruined panties over his clothed thigh.

God, the friction feels phenomenal. 

The elevator pings, and Dean chuckles as he pushes himself from her, chuckles, because she’s still rutting against nothing. 

“Fuck, you’re really something,” He whispers as he manhandles her out of the elevator only to drag her along the hallway.

It’s easy, she thinks, so easy for him to manhandle her around. He’s so broad and strong and just... fuck , she wants him so bad. 

He comes to a halt in front of a door that says 823 , reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of keys and she stands behind him, reaching her arms around his body. Her one hand palms over a clothed, yet still so fucking hard cock, while her other hand tries to unto his belt buckle. 

“Baby,” Dean chuckles, “Can’t open the door when you’re distracting me,”

“Just want you so bad,” She says, her forehead leans against his back and she feels his muscle shifting. 

Y/N got the belt loose before Dean found the keyhole, her hand sneaking into his pants, traveling over the tuft of pubic hair until she wraps her fist around his dick. 

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes for a moment before he goes on with trying to get into the apartment. 

Dean shakes his head, “You really want that dick, huh?” 

“Yeah,” She whispers against his back, her hand now jerking him off. She squeezes a little more at the head of his dick, and pads over his slit to smear the precum around his tip. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” Dean mutters under his breath and she hears a click before he turns around, making her release her grip around his cock. 

He crashes his mouth on hers, kisses her hard, his fingers fisting in the hair at the back of her head as he pulls her into the apartment with their lips still attached. He kicks the door closed with one foot. 

After a while of intense kissing, Dean pushes her away, making her stagger back. 

“Strip, baby,” He says in an absolutely dirty voice all deep and husky and she does because god, she would be damned if she didn’t want to be his good girl tonight. 

Her shoes are off quick and she pushes her skirt down, her underwear comes right after before she pulls her top over her head.

Dean has released his cock, is fisting it while he watches her undress herself in front of him, groans when he sees her nakedness. 

“Beautiful,” He lets out, smirking a little. It’s a boyish grin and that’s when he slips out of his role a little, she thinks. With his next breath, he catches himself again.

Normally she’s pretty self-conscious, but she has the feeling that the guy standing before her who’s ready to get his cock wet, doesn’t mind how she looks since they came this far already. Plus, the light’s still off, but the light from the moon and skyscrapers shines in, making her see enough to want him even more.

His dick is heavy and hard in his fist, as he massages it up and down. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Get down on your knees,” 

God, yes. 

Finally.

Y/N kneels before him and Dean takes a step further in as he groans. Her mouth is already open and inviting, but he takes his time, rubs his heavy dick over her face. 

“Looking so good for daddy, baby,” He huffs out. 

The rubbing smears his precum on her face. She feels wet drops here and there and the scent of his arousal is intoxicating. God, it’s making her drool. 

“You want my dick, huh?” He asks, tapping his dick lightly to her cheek, “Want to show me how good you suck cock?”

“God, yes,” She agrees with a frantic nod of her head.

“Call me daddy, baby,” Dean chuckles, “Open up your mouth wider, stick out your tongue,”

She does what she’s told.

“Good girl. That’s daddy’s good girl,” He says almost fondly and slaps his dick against her awaiting tongue, “Now suck,”

Well, she doesn’t need to be told twice. Sealing her lips around the head, she starts to suckle at it and Dean groans, throws his head back as she looks up.

“That’s right,” He whispers as soon as he catches himself, “Look up at me, I want to see how much you like sucking my cock, baby,”

She tries her best, she really does. His cock is thick, the taste of precum and a day’s worth of musk is heavy on her tongue, the scent penetrating her nose. It makes her suck him harder, makes her leak profoundly between her legs because she just wants him so fucking much.

“Spread your legs, touch yourself,” Dean mumbles, “I wanna see you touching yourself, baby. Wanna see you make yourself come while you suck my cock,”

Oh god, yes. She’s so close too. It’s no wonder, as she’s been balancing on that fucking edge since he fingered her in the club. 

Spreading her leg but still on her knees, she pushes a hand in between, fingers herself, and rubs against her clit. The sound of her wetness is loud in the room. Dean groans when he hears it.

“So fucking good, baby girl,” He huffs out. His hand comes to push a strand of hair out of her face to see her better, “Sucking daddy’s cock so well,”

“Mmmh,” She hums in approval with his dick in her mouth and fuck, hearing him praise her just does things to her and she comes, quick, hard, humming and shrieking with his cock in her mouth. It makes him push his pelvis against her harder, making her choke when the tip of his dick hits her throat.

“Good girl,” Dean hums as he pulls his dick back but he leaves her to suckle at his tip, “Such a good girl for daddy, I’m so proud,” His hand finds the side of her face, applies pressure on his palms as he grips it, “I’m going go fuck your face, okay? Can you take that, huh? Take my dick?”

She looks up and hums, nodding her head.

He smiles down fondly, his teeth showing white and the crinkles around his eyes run deep. His grip around her face tightens a bit as he starts to fuck into her mouth, getting deeper inside with every thrust and she braces her hands on his thighs, fingers gripping at the fabric of his pants when she feels his dick choking her. 

Dean presses his pelvis to her face, his pubic hair tickles her nose and he stays there for a while until she taps at his thigh because she feels like she’s going to pass out if he doesn’t let her come up for air. 

And it’s weird. Really weird. She should be scared of doing this with a stranger, yet she trusts him. He has won her trust in such a short span of time. Some would call it naivety. 

When he releases her face, she gulps for hair, trying to fill her lungs before he thrusts in again and he does. He gets faster too. The drool is running down her throat, her chest is wet. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispers between thrusts, “Your mouth is fucking perfect, baby. You taking my cock so well,” 

It makes her wetter hearing it and she’s sure that there’s a pool of her juice right below her. 

“You want my come, baby? Want me to come in your mouth?” 

Oh, god. More than anything right now. 

She wants to feel him, to fucking taste him, so she nods her head as he stops his thrusts for a second. 

Dean grins cockily. It’s really a good look on him, “Take it all, okay? But don’t swallow yet. Keep it in your mouth, baby,”

Another nod. 

“Jesus,” He groans as he picks up his thrusting, “You’re perfect, baby girl, so good for daddy,” 

His thrusts are faster before he comes and when he does, he lets out a deep growl as he pulls his cock out and fills her mouth with his cum. 

Y/N does as she was told. She doesn’t swallow, instead, she opens her mouth, letting him pour in every drop he can milk out of that beautiful cock of his. 

Dean’s spent dick is getting softer, but it still looks impressive, at least when it dangles so close to her face. 

There’s a drop of cum on the corner of her mouth and he scoops it up with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth. His eyes are on her, a glow around him after his release. It makes him even more attractive and she wonders how fate is sometimes cruel to give her something she craves but takes it away again because it’s a one night stand. That’s all there is. He knows it as much as she does.

His other hand goes up below her eyes, brushes away the smeared mascara and with his thumb still in her mouth he tries to angle his stance to get her other eye as well. 

Her mouth is full of cum and drool, almost spilling over but Dean takes his time, stands back to marvel at her. 

“You look so pretty,” He says, again with a fond undertone, “Would take a picture if I could,” The cum’s floating over, and Dean pushes his thumb inside her mouth some more, “You may swallow now, baby,”

She does, closes her eyes to get the thickness of his cum down with his thumb still in her mouth. She sucks at the digit, signaling to him that it’s all gone.

“Open up,” He whispers, “Show me,”

Y/N smiles when she does, opens her mouth wide to show him that she’s swallowed it all.

He chuckles, “Good girl, you’re really a good fucking girl, baby,” 

Taking his thumb out, he brushes it along her lips before he grabs at her arm and pulls her up. He kisses her then, letting out a languished groan when he tastes himself on her tongue. 

“Down the hallway, the room to the left. I want you spread out on my bed, play with yourself okay?” 

Dean kisses her on her nose and she nods before she makes her way to his bedroom. Climbing on his bed, she positions herself with her back against the headboard and spreads her legs. Her one hand plays with her pussy, fingers dipping in deep, before rubbing at her clit wetly. She closes her eyes, thinks about what just happened. Thinks about his voice that she’ll probably never forget. Thinks about his taste that she won’t be able to erase out of her mind. 

It’s not long before Dean joins her, in one hand bottled water, in the other are her clothes and shoes. He’s really being considerate. Or he’s a neat freak. Either or. Not that it matters.

He drapes her clothes over a chair next to the bed, sets her shoes right below it before he unscrews the water and hands it over to her to drink. The coldness of it travels down her throat, making her shiver. Maybe she shivers of anticipation too, who knows. 

Setting the water on the nightstand, Dean continues to undress, taking off his suit jacket and drapes it over another chair. While doing it, his eyes are on her. 

She’s still rubbing herself, fondles her tits one-handed too, pinching her nipple, and arches her back.

“That’s it,” Dean croons, “Touch yourself, but don’t make yourself come, I wanna feel you come on daddy’s cock,” 

Oh god.

She wants that too.

He watches her some more as his fingers slowly unbutton his shirt. Too slowly and it’s not fair because she just knows that he’s teasing her. When he takes his shirt off, she can see how broad he is, can see the muscles moving. He’s soft and firm and so fucking delicious. By the time Dean takes off his underwear, his dick is already more than semi hard. It’s impressive, really. She still can’t believe that she had that down her throat.

When he’s naked before her, he tugs at his cock, jerks it while his eyes are on her and he walks closer, climbing on the bed and walks closer to where she is on his knees. 

“Jesus,” He growls, “You’re making me hard again, baby,” 

There’s a smile tugging at her lips as a sense of pride washes over her. 

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” She says it in her best sultry voice.

“No,”

“No?” She frowns a little.

Dean chuckles, “No, I gotta taste you first,” He shoulders himself between her thighs, “Be a good girl, hold your legs up for daddy,”

Shamelessly, she hooks her arms around the back of her knee as she pulls them up and apart, almost folding herself in half. That’s how eager she is to spread for him. 

His big hands are on the back of her thighs, helping push her back as he hovers above her wet pussy, “That’s my good girl,” He chuckles, warm air hitting her core, and she trembles.

He doesn’t stall, instead, he buries his face right in there, sucking and lapping around her sensitive nub like it’s the only thing that keeps him the fuck alive. 

“Your cunt’s so sweet, baby,” He moans, as he spreads kisses all over her pussy, “Could eat you for days,”

Alternatively, he switches from sucking to lapping, and her hand finds his hair fingers, pulling at it, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He even starts to hum and that drives her fucking crazy.

It’s when he pushes in a thick finger that she almost loses it. Has to throw her head back and close her eyes when he curves the finger just right. He soon uses another finger, rubbing against her inner wall with it while he sucks at her clit and she just knows. She just fucking knows that she’s going to come again.

Her grip tightens in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp but Dean goes on, licking her and sucking her while he thrusts his fingers inside of her.

“Da- fuck- daddy,” She bites on her lip and the wave that hits her is strong, making her release her own legs, making her squeeze them around Dean’s head, “Fuck, oh my god,”

Dean chuckles as he spreads kitten licks on her clit. He pulls his fingers out and they pop out with a wet squelching sound, “You’re doing so good for me, baby, but please, call me daddy,”

The way he looks up from between her legs makes her heart race faster. Half of his face is drenched with her slick and there’s a glisten in his eyes while his lips are crooked into a smile that’s full of bravado.

He’s still fingering her lazily, circling his thumb soothingly around her clit, not applying too much pressure because he knows that she’s sensitive. Dean leans down and kisses her, swirls his tongue around her own. He parts with a bite on her lip, making her squeal and laugh. 

“Can you fuck me now, daddy? Please?” She pouts a little for the effect but god, she’s so desperate for his cock. Desperate to feel him inside of her. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this and you can say no, okay?” He starts while he lays himself next to her, kissing the side of her face while he rubs between her legs. Dean dips down sucking a nipple into his mouth, bites on that too, chuckles when she moans.

“What?” She asks, fearing the worst. Fearing that he’ll say that it’s been a mistake and he only wanted to go this far and no further, fearing that maybe he’ll say that he’s too tired, or that he wants to put off fucking her for real for another day, or fuck, what does she know? There are so many possibilities that run through her mind right now.

Dean noses along her cheek, his nose is still damp, and she can smell her scent off him, “I was wondering if I could fuck you without condom, and before you say anything, I know it’s stupid but god, you feel so fucking good around my cock and you’re so fucking wet, I really want to feel it,”

Oh.

Y/N can’t believe what she’s going to say either. She’s never been so careless before but fuck, she’s really so far gone, and as she said before, she doesn’t know what it is but she fucking trusts Dean. 

“I can’t believe that I’m saying it either, but please please, fuck me raw, daddy,”

“Jesus,” Dean groans as he quickly captures her mouth, tongue swiveling against her own. He sucks in her tongue before he releases it, “Come on, get on top of me,”

With one swift movement, he manages to manhandle her on top of him and she straddles his body, moving down inch by inch. He groans out again when she feels her leaving her wetness on his body on her way down. 

Spreading herself over his hard cock, she grinds her pussy lips on it, slicks it up with her juice, teasing him in the process. 

“Fuck, baby girl, don’t be a tease now,” 

She chuckles but doesn’t stop and he lets her, probably enjoying the view and her playfulness. When she’s had enough and almost bursts herself, she grabs at his cock and points it upwards. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lets herself down.

Dean let out a groan, bites down on his bottom lip as she works her way further down his shaft. He helps a little, pushing his hips up, and down again when she manages to take all of him. 

Her hands are braced on his chest and he rubs along her thighs. She needs a moment to get used to it, her walls fluttering around his girth.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath, “You feel so fucking good, baby, like I thought you would. So wet and tight,”

Y/N’s plenty wet, Dean’s right about that and she gets even wetter as she starts to bounce on his shaft.

“So good, baby,” He coos, his hands on her hips, helping her guide herself up and down, “So pretty bouncing on daddy’s cock, fuck,” His one hand goes to her tit, squeezes it tight before he slaps down on her nipple, “That’s it, baby, fuck me,”

And that, she does. His words make her wetter, make her bounce on top of him harder. Up until she’s worn out and retorts to grinding. 

Dean pulls her down by her arms, kisses her as he thrusts his hips up to not lose the rhythm, “Is my baby tired, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” 

“Should daddy take over?”

“Yes, please,”

With a chuckle, Dean turns them both around until he’s on top, without slipping out of her. He gets up on his knees and pulls her closer by her legs so that her ass is on top of his thighs as he begins to fuck her deep and slow.

“Like that, baby?” He asks with one thumb circling her clit.

“Uh-huh,” 

There’s really no coherent word that she could bring past her lips. 

“Yeah?” He asks as he thrusts harder. He changes angles then, puts her down on her back and pushes her legs up so that he can thrust in even harder, “Like it hard?”

“Fuck, yeah,” 

“That’s a good girl, baby,” Dean whispers, “Your cunt, that’s mine tonight, isn’t it?”

His thrust gets deeper, just the way she likes it, making her roll her eyes to the back every time he hits her cervix.

“Yours,” She manages to say, “Fuck,”

“Who am I, baby girl?”

“Shit,” 

He starts to rub her clit while his slows his thrusting, but he still goes in deep, reaches her every corner where she wants him most, “Tell me, I want to hear you say it,”

“Daddy-, fuck, daddy, you’re my daddy,” 

“That’s right, baby girl,” He coos, “I want you to remember that, okay? Remember who makes you feel good,” 

He talks like she could ever forget him. It’s so fucking hard to and she doesn’t think she’d be able to even if she would try.

“Oh my-,” She bites on her tongue, knows that she should say his name, “Daddy, I’m fuck- you’re going to make me come,”

“That's okay, baby, come,” He pants, “I wanna feel you coming on my fat cock, can you do that for daddy, huh?” His one hand goes to her throat, claws around it and squeezes it just right. It gives her the much added trigger to explode.

Fuck , who taught him to fucking talk like this?

Dean chuckles, “I can already feel your cunt squeezing around me, baby, you’re close, so fucking close, ain’t you? Come now,”

It’s not like she needs permission, they didn’t work that out but fuck, if she’s not a good girl. So she comes, right around his cock. He releases his hand around her throat, brushing over it just lightly to smooth away the pain.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dean groans as her walls squeeze down on him. His movement starts to falter and she can feel that he’s holding himself together, “You feel so good coming on my cock, baby. You just got tighter too, fuck,”

It’s about only three hard thrusts later that he starts to tremble, “Where do you want me to come?” 

She looks up at him, her hands curl around his biceps with every hard hit to her cervix, “I want, fuck, I want you to come inside, daddy, please? Wanna feel your cum running out for days,”

“Baby, you’re a fucking nasty girl, ain’t you? Fuck,” 

Oh god. He’s right because that’s what she fucking is. She has no shame whatsoever. 

“Gonna come so deep in your cunt, baby, mark it as mine,” He thrusts faster but not as deep anymore, “How does that sound?”

“Please,” She is basically begging him.

“That’s my good girl, taking my cock so well and now my girl wants my cum too, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” He growls low, and pushes in twice more, hitting her cervix before he stills and spills his cum deep inside of her. 

Dean lets himself fall on top of her, braces his elbows on the side of her face so as to not crush her. He dips his head down, kisses her deep and tender while his dick still twitches inside of her with his release.

They took a shower together after that, cleaning themself off their filth and cum, and Dean’s worn out but he couldn’t help himself, made her come again in the shower on his dick alone with his thumb buried in her ass as he fucked her from behind. If he should fuck her again, he wants to try that back hole too, is almost sure that she’d let him because she went nuts when he stuck his thumb in there. Jesus, he hopes there’ll be a next time. It doesn't happen often that he wants to see a one night stand again, but with her, he’s ready to make an exception.

Now she’s really tired and almost falls asleep in his arms while he carries her over to his bed. Dean tucks her in and slides in next to her, pulling her into him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kisses her gently, hand brushes away the hair from her face, knuckles grazing her cheeks.

He feels her smile into the kiss.

“Thank you,” She whispers and is already drifting off.

Dean chuckles, “You’re really something else, baby,” 

  *

He wakes in the morning, realizes that the bed next to him is empty. Tilting his head around, Dean looks at the chair, sees that her clothes are gone along with her shoes.

Heaving his aching body from the bed, he sits up and rubs his hands over his face, “Fuck,”

She’s gone. Dean doesn’t even have her number. He really doubts he’ll see her again and that’s a fucking shame. 

*

Monday rolls around and Dean’s nervous. 

He’s pissed too, because he called Gabe and persuaded his friend to go to the club again but of course she wasn’t there. He waited longer than he should have, turned down four girls because he wanted to meet the right one. He had been losing sleep because it had gotten late and the thought of having to be in the office in five hours doesn’t help. 

So he sits in the meeting room, waiting for his bosses to arrive to maybe fire him, even though he fucking aced the presentation to the project this morning.

“Hello Winchester,” Mr. Turner says as he sits down and Mrs. Mills takes the chair next to Mr. Turner. They sit across from him. 

“Mrs. Mills,” He nods, “Mr. Turner,”

“Have you been informed why we called you in today?”

“Not, really no.” Dean shakes his head as he rubs his sweaty hands on his slacks. 

Mrs. Mills smiles, “We are thinking that you’re doing a great job,”

“I am?” He cocks an eyebrow, as if he can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Mr. Turner chimes in, “The reason for this meeting is this. You know that Mr. Campbell is retiring in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” 

Dean knows. He’s been invited to the farewell party organized by Mr. Samuel Campbell himself. 

“Right,” Mrs. Turner nods, “We are considering you for the position.”

“Really?” He can’t hide the grin, and even if it’s a job he absolutely doesn’t want, it feels great to be considered for it.

“There’s a catch, though,” Mrs. Miller says and of course there is. There’s always a catch in this company. 

“We have a newcomer from an external company who also applied for the job. The person has a good reputation and great recommendation letters.” 

Of course. Dean nods. They always have. 

“We want to watch the two of you for about a week, two tops, see how much you’re willing to give of yourself, how driven you both are. We’re going to make a decision and please don’t take it personally if it’s not you. I’m sure the next position that opens up will be glad to have you.”

“Is this a competition?”

“See it as such, yeah. We talked about it in the boardroom and we really think it’s fair to give the other person a chance to get some more work experience in the company before we would consider them suitable for the job. With you, Mr. Winchester, we already know it, but that doesn’t mean that you have the job for sure.”

“Right,” 

He’s never good at losing but that’s because Dean never loses. He’ll have an advantage over that dude. It’s probably going to be a piece of cake. He barely has to lift a finger, probably.

“Are you ready to meet your competition? There are projects you have to work on together, so it would be good if you get acquainted with each other.” Mrs. Mills asks.

“Sure,” Dean shrugs with a nod.

Mrs. Mills gets up from her chair to walk to the door. She opens it and keeps it open wide and then it feels like the air has been punched out of Dean’s lungs.

He’d recognize that face anywhere. He also remembers those long legs in heels.

“Mr. Winchester, meet your new colleague, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,”

Chapter Two

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[wanderingcas]

Safe and Sound. Commission for @starsmish 3.5k words

. . . 

Castiel leans back against the wall adjacent to the men’s bathroom, looking down at the watch-face poking out of his sleeve. People stare at him curiously as they filter in and out of the restrooms. Castiel smiles politely back, all the while keeping his eyes trained for a specific face: one with bright green eyes, a jawline that Castiel is positive would cut glass, and dusty blonde hair. 

He was assigned to Dean Winchester approximately two weeks ago. What Castiel originally thought was going to be a low-key assignment, protecting Lawrence’s newly-appointed councilman is turning out to be one of his more difficult cases. 

The first red flag is that Dean’s family hired Castiel without informing Dean at all. According to the family, Dean had been receiving death threats from an alt-right group so cleverly named “the Trumpers” because of Dean’s very liberal agenda in his politics. The family was concerned. Castiel assumed that Dean was also concerned. 

But when Castiel walked into the room and saw Dean for the first time, saw the equal parts of surprised and pissed off look on Dean’s face: that was Castiel’s second red flag. 

He checks his watch again. It’s been 20 minutes. 

“Goddammit.” Castiel pivots and swings through the bathroom door. He opens each empty stall. He does a useless circle around the empty bathroom. 

“God damn it,” he says again, voice echoing off the tiles.

. . . 

It isn’t hard to find Dean, as the workaholic councilman is parked where he usually is: his office.

Castiel smacks a styrofoam cup onto Dean’s desk. Drops of cold coffee spring to liberate themselves through the plastic lid’s opening. “You forgot this.” 

Dean’s eyes barely leave his computer screen. “Mm,” he replies. He picks it up; sips. Grimaces. “That’s disgusting.” 

Sitting in a chair across from Dean’s desk, Castiel says, “Yes, Dean. That’s because it’s cold. Because you left it. Hours ago.” 

“Huh,” Dean says.

“When you left a location without informing me,” Castiel continues to explain. “Again.” Dean still doesn’t look up. “That’s dangerous,” Castiel adds.

“Uh-huh.” 

Castiel kicks the desk with the toe of his foot, making it rattle. “Are you even listening to me?” 

Dean finally takes his hands off the keyboard, folds them in front of him. “Cas. I have more important things to do than listen to you bitch about how you failed at your job. Again.”

“You can’t keep running away from me,” Castiel says tightly. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re constantly running away.”

Dean leans back in his chair, laces his fingers behind his head. “I dunno, I’d call it more like… walking briskly. Not my fault that you’re too slow.” 

“I was waiting for you.” 

“Huh. Didn’t see you.” 

“I was waiting,” Castiel continues, leaning forward, “as I was all the other times when you’ve attempted to ditch me. During that press conference on Wednesday, at every grocery store you go into, at the restaurant last night—” 

“Well, you being on my date was a little weird, to be fair,” Dean says.

“Dean.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “You hired me to protect you. I can’t do that if you won’t allow me to do so.” 

“My family hired you,” Dean corrects, “and based on some stupid disorganized Trump fanatic group that couldn’t even find their own ass if it was handed to them. Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I’m keeping you around to make my brother chill out. That’s it. I don’t need your damn protection.” 

“I disagree,” Castiel says. “I’ve been monitoring tagged posts with your Twitter username, and some of them are violent death threats. From multiple extremist groups. Additionally, you did a very poor job at hiding the letter you received that depicted a very graphic drawing of you getting eaten alive by hellhounds.” 

“But that’s all they are, Cas,” Dean says. “Threats. Nothing’s actually happened. You’ve been up my butt for weeks; have you seen anyone stalking me? Confronting me personally?” At Castiel’s reluctant dissenting head shake, Dean says, “See? It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” 

Castiel hasn’t known Dean long, but he can identify three qualities in him: stubborn, handsome, and fiercely loyal to his family. Castiel straightens in his chair and plays his last hand “Elections are coming up,” he says. “That’s when people get most heated. And if you’re ignoring the seriousness of the situation, there may be an attack on you that could get multiple people hurt if it’s not intercepted. Like the woman you were on a date with last night.” Castiel takes a breath, attempts to hit home. “Or your family.” 

It has the desired effect: Dean’s face becomes stormy and still. He slowly points a finger at Castiel, jabbing with it in the air. “Don’t you dare bring my family into this.” 

“I am not doing so. The people who are threatening your life will.” 

Dean sits, stone-faced, until an unheard noise makes Dean snap to attention. “All right, Cas. You wanna play it like that? Then here’s what I think: you’re bad at your job. It’s why you work as an independent contractor who costs next to nothing to hire. You’re shitty at your profession, and you’re blaming me for it. I’m not a ninja, and yet I slip past you every goddamn time. You think that’s a coincidence?” 

Castiel clenches the fabric of his pants, bunched at the knees, willing himself not to take the bait. “If this whole thing is some sort of ridiculous self-punishment—”

“Where the hell did you pull that out of your ass?” Dean scoffs.

“—from that attack last year that hurt your brother, instead of you, because he got caught in the crossfire—”

Dean says, voice raised and sharp, “Don’t you dare bring that up, you son of a—”

“You could really get hurt, Dean!” Castiel shouts above him. “This isn’t a damn game. No matter what your problem is with me, or with having protection in the first place, you have to face the facts.” 

They stare at each other in a moment of silent standoff. The hallway beyond Dean’s office’s open door has gone tensely quiet. 

Dean stands and pushes his chair back harder than necessary. “I did a little digging on you too,” he says, a little too calmly. “You were fired from the former Secretary of State’s detail because you made a mistake on the job. It’s classified, obviously, but I’m willing to bet it had to do with that bomb making its way to the East Wing. Am I on the right track?” 

Castiel clenches his jaw. “The whole security detail was fired,” he says. “Not just me.” 

There’s a flicker in Dean’s expression—a softness that Castiel had not seen yet from him—but it’s gone as fast as it occurred. He replaces it with a condescending smile. “Pretty hard to protect anyone properly after that piss-poor mistake, huh?” 

Something in Castiel’s chest splinters. “All right,” he snaps, the backs of his knees smacking the chair as he stands. “Message received. I’ll resign from protecting you, effective immediately. You won’t be hearing from me again.” 

“Peachy,” Dean shoots back. He falls back into his chair, trains his eyes once again onto the computer screen again. 

Castiel has his hand on the knob, clenching it so hard it could shatter. “Whatever your opinion of me is; I hope you think about what I said.” He turns the knob sharply against the silence behind him, says, “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” before slamming the door behind him.

He takes the stairs that are down the hall from Dean’s office. His feet hitting the metal stairs echo sharply in the empty space. Striding through the lobby of the office building, he narrowly avoids connecting shoulders with a group of men who are walking quickly in the other direction.

When he gets outside, he doesn’t know what to do. He pulls his scarf against the wind. As is the theme of the week, people look at him strangely as he stands there, staring down at the sidewalk. The sun begins to slump in the sky. 

“Idiot,” he says to the ground, as if to explain. “He’s a goddamn idiot.” 

Despite this, he knows he has to go back in. 

He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, indecisive, until his phone begins vibrating violently in his coat pocket. He scrambles to take it out with his stiff fingers and pulls off a glove with his teeth so he can hit the green button on the touchscreen. “Hello?” 

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, cut off by something that sounds like static. 

Castiel holds the phone closer to his ear, listening intently. “Dean? Hello?” 

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, again, this time more desperate. It sounds like some sort of fabric is being rubbed against the receiver, making the connection fuzzy. A few odd thuds are heard over the receiver. 

“Dean, what’s going on? Where are you?” He hears Dean’s voice again, but this time it’s not forming a word—more like a cry. The realization of what’s happening dumps over Castiel like cold water. 

“Fuck,” Castiel says. 

Like a shot out of a gun, he whips around and bolts through the revolving doors. He holds the phone to his ear like a lifeline with one hand, pushing people out of the way with the other. “Dean, hang on!” he shouts into the phone. “I’m coming, just hang on! Call the police, tell them to come to office 202!” he barks at the bewildered doorman as he sprints by. 

He was only gone for ten minutes, he thinks desperately. Or twenty. How long was he standing outside?

Castiel dashes into the stairwell he used earlier to leave. As he begins sprinting up the stairs, he hears the grunts and thuds he heard over the phone become a reality.

Castiel throws his phone aside and increases his speed, taking two stairs at a time. He sees a group of men all huddled around one broken one. He jumps at the back of one of the men, barely slowing his sprint, knocking him to the ground. 

Seeing Dean bleeding and curled up on the ground brings out something primal in Castiel. He kicks a man over the railing, barely hearing the thump that follows. He punches a man with one fist and pivots to scissor-chop a man’s neck with the other. Castiel barely sees how many people there even are, barely stacks the odds in the fight: he just knows that Dean is in danger, Dean needs to be helped, Dean needs protection. 

Among the chaos, Dean has teetered to his feet and is fighting beside Castiel, landing the occasional second blow after Castiel deals the real damage. Castiel grabs Dean by the arm, leading him toward the door that opens to the hallway. He fumbles for his taser, aiming and firing at a man running toward them. 

“Go to your office and lock the door,” Castiel tells Dean, already pushing him into the hallway. He sees an argument in Dean’s eyes; Castiel barks, “Go!” 

. . . 

In the end, one man against six is a bit stacked, even for a trained bodyguard. He’s caught in a headlock and can barely see out of his left eye by the time the police arrive. 

As soon as his neck is free, the police shouting at the assailants to get on the ground around him, he stumbles into the light of the hallway and runs toward Dean’s office. 

He finds Dean with the EMTs, a blanket being put around his shoulders, a stretcher prepared for him to be taken to an ambulance downstairs. 

Castiel stands in the doorway, waves off the medic trying to treat him. “Focus on the councilman,” he snaps. 

Castiel walks beside the stretcher as they wheel Dean out of the building; Castiel can tell that Dean is pretty hurt since he barely protests to the special treatment. 

When Dean reaches for Castiel’s hand, he decides that Dean is downright delusional; nonetheless he grabs Dean’s hand tightly, refusing to let go during the whole ambulance ride to the hospital. 

. . . 

“Cas.” 

Castiel raises his head from where it’s cradled in his hands. His delirious mind mistakes the voice for Dean’s; a few blinks into the fluorescent hospital lights confirms that it’s Sam Winchester looming before him. 

He feels a whole new wave of shame overtake him. “Sam.” Castiel wipes a shaking hand over his face. “God. I don’t know how to—” He stutters out a breath. “How is he?” 

Sam sits in the plastic chair next to Castiel’s. “He’s stable. A few broken ribs, concussion… nothing too serious, though. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation.” 

Castiel nods. He can’t sit still, has a weird tremor in his leg. “I am so sorry,” he whispers. 

“How long have you been here?” Sam asks. 

It’s a ridiculous question that Castiel couldn’t care less about the answer to. “I don’t know. What time is it?” 

“They brought Dean in six hours ago,” Sam says. “I got on a flight as soon as you called me.” 

Castiel nods numbly. He doesn’t even remember that phone call. Or where his phone is now. 

“Cas.” Sam puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder; he flinches at the touch. “Have you had anyone look at you?” 

“There was a nurse,” Castiel says. He vaguely points to his swollen left eye. “Stitches.” He can’t meet the younger Winchester’s eyes. It makes no sense that Sam’s being gentle or caring to someone who so tragically and stupidly let his older brother down. If anything, Sam should be shoving lawsuit papers underneath Castiel’s nose.

“They arrested all the guys that attacked him,” Sam says. He huffs a laugh. “Although the majority of them had to be hospitalized, too, after the number you did on them.” 

Castiel clears his throat against the scratchiness that’s rising up in it. “Dean fought back, too.” 

Sam chuckles, shakes his head. “Of course he did.” 

They sit in silence, as nurses and white coats and stretchers scurry by. Castiel keeps his eyes on the scuffed linoleum floor that’s yellowed with age.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam says, shattering the silence. 

Sharply rising to his feet, Castiel says, “Don’t.” 

Sam stands with him. “Seriously, Cas, it wasn’t. Dean was being difficult. He ignored the dangers—and you can probably tell by now how freaking stubborn he is. I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long with him.” 

“I should have stayed by his side, no matter how much he complained,” Castiel says. “It’s part of the job. I didn’t do my due diligence, I didn’t protect him, I didn’t even see this attack coming—”

“Cas, whoa, slow down.” Sam puts a hand on his shoulder again, pulls him to face him. “These guys that attacked Dean aren’t even an alt-right group that was contacting him with those death threats. It was a completely random attack. They saw Dean go into the building and they impulsively decided to go in.” He looks imploringly at Castiel. “I don’t blame you, not even for a minute. And neither does Dean.” 

Castiel feels something thrum through him. “He’s awake?” 

“Yeah. And he’s asking for you. That’s why I came out here.” 

“I don’t—” Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“I think he wants to apologize,” Sam continues, “Which for Dean is … well, frankly, a minor miracle. So don’t pass up this opportunity, okay?” 

Castiel looks for a moment at Sam’s reassuring smile. “I’ll go,” he finally relents. “At the very least to apologize to him.” 

“Whatever makes you two stubborn idiots talk to each other,” Sam says with a gentle pat on Castiel’s back. 

Dean’s hospital room is a private room with a security guard stationed in front of it. Castiel doesn’t meet the guard’s eyes as he walks in. 

Dean is on the bed, hunched over a sprawl of papers on his lap. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around his bare torso.

Castiel stands there for a moment, mouth open, staring at the scene. “What the ever-loving hell are you doing?” 

Dean looks up. “Hey, Cas,” he says with a lopsided grin. 

“‘Hey, Cas’?” Castiel spits out. “Are you kidding me? You’re doing work?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, barely gets a word out before Castiel is striding over to him and snatching the papers from him, dumping them on the floor. “And you shouldn’t be half-naked in a hospital where you can catch a cold,” Castiel continues, snapping Dean’s hospital gown in the air before depositing it on his head. “Put that on.” 

“Jesus, fine,” Dean tentatively putting his arms through the sleeves, wincing at the disturbed bruises on his skin. “I didn’t realize Sam hired a nanny instead of a bodyguard.” 

Castiel sits in the chair adjacent to the bed, bristling. “I won’t have you getting hurt on my watch again, Dean,” he snaps. “Not for the last few hours I’m in your employment.” 

Dean blinks. “Are you quitting?” 

Castiel looks at him incredulously. 

“Okay, yeah. Well, I probably owe you an explanation.” Dean shifts minutely in his bed. “And an apology.” 

Seeing Dean vulnerable deflates Castiel from any anger. “No, I have to apologize. If I had been there—”

“But you weren’t, because I pushed you away, Cas. The things I said to you…” Dean rubs at the eye that’s not bandaged, huffing out a sigh. “I said those awful things because I knew pissing you off wouldn’t make you go away; hurting you would. I know how to find people’s weak spots and apply pressure. It’s why I’m in politics I guess.” 

“It’s not like the things you said to me weren’t true,” Castiel says softly. “You’re right in that I did get fired. That I failed at my job. Similarly to how I failed at this one.” 

“No, Cas, that’s not it. You’re human, okay? But I just—” Dean pauses. Frowns down at his hands clasped over the thin, blue hospital blanket. “Sam was attacked last year. You know that. He didn’t get hurt, but—those people were after me. And I didn’t protect him. My whole life, it’s just been me and Sam against the world. I always protected him, kept him safe, and last year I realized that I just… can’t anymore.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It was fucking depressing.” 

Castiel blames it on the lack of sleep when his hand reaches out and gently grasps Dean’s arm. “Dean…” 

“And then Sam hires you because he thinks that I can’t take care of myself, and I just saw red. I saw you as this, I dunno,” Dean waves a hand in Castiel’s direction, “physical manifestation of everything I can’t do: take care of Sam or even myself from a bunch of crazy lunatics. I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

Tightening his grip on Dean’s arm, Castiel says, “I shouldn’t have left you.” 

“It’s not your fault, Cas. Seriously. I don’t blame you for a second.” Dean wraps the hospital gown tighter around himself. “I blame myself, for being a coward. Not really facing the dangers that are out there.” 

Castiel shakes his head. “Dean—”

“I know there’s bad people on both sides,” Dean says, words rushing forward. “I just wanted to… I dunno. Be one of the good guys. Be brave.” 

“You are brave,” Castiel says. “You’re assertive in your beliefs, you don’t back down from your opinions just because someone dissents. That’s brave.” 

Dean shrugs, pondering on that for a minute. The heart rate monitor beats a steady thrum in the silence. “That means a lot,” he finally says. 

“Good. Because it’s true.” Castiel adds, firmly, “And protecting you has been an honor.” 

There’s a rise of color on Dean’s cheeks; he chuckles, “Jesus, Cas, buy me dinner first.” 

Castiel smiles. He pulls his hand back; as he does, Dean grabs it, just as firmly and decisively as he did while riding in the ambulance just hours before. 

“I’ve been an ass,” Dean says, “and I would understand if you don’t want to. But honestly, Cas, I want you around.” 

Castiel tries to take his hand back, but Dean holds tighter. “No, Dean. I think you’re incorrect. I wouldn’t keep you safe, I’d just—”

“I was safe until I pushed you away,” Dean says. 

Castiel can’t argue with that. He looks away from Dean’s green eyes are imploring. “I suppose that’s true,” he admits.

“I won’t do that again,” Dean says, “seriously. I’ll let you do your job. If I promise not to keep trying to dodge you, and at least, uh—try to be less stubborn and make your life easier… would you—” 

It’s the lack of sleep, Castiel thinks, it must be, because his mouth is moving and is interrupting Dean to say, “Yes.” 

Dean gapes at him. “You really want to—”

“Yes,” Castiel says again. More sure this time. He squeezes Dean’s hand tighter. “If you promise not to leave me standing in front of bathrooms again as you climb through the windows, then yes, I will stay. Keep you safe.” 

The smile Dean gives Castiel is blinding and beautiful, and if Castiel were hooked up to that heart rate monitor, it would be going wild, giving him away. It’s the first real one that Castiel’s since he started protecting Dean.

“I promise, Cas.” 

[winchesterbrotherstan]

SPN- Crossroad Blues (2.08)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: The siblings find a case that isn’t what it seems, Dean pulls a dangerous stunt, and Olive comes clean about a few big secrets

Warnings: mentions of blood, demons, bad dogs, uhhh, cursing

Word Count: 5054

I huffed as Sam pulled the computer screen out of the line of sight of people around us. I looked at the picture, then at Dean with another huff. Jinx whined at our feet.

“So much for our low profile.” Sam grumbled. “You’ve got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you’re officially in the fed’s database. And Ol, you’ve got a warrant in Maryland.”

I shrugged as I looked at our mugshots.

“Dude, I’m like Dillinger or something.”

“Dean, it’s not funny. Makes our lives harder, we’ve gotta be more careful now.”

“Well Sams, what do they have on you?”

“I’m sure they just haven’t posted it yet.” He mumbled.

I looked at Dean, who grinned. “No accessory? Nothing?”

“Shut up.” Sam scowled.

Dean laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not!” Sam spat.

I giggled. “You should’ve come with me, you’d have a warrant too.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shut the laptop. I leaned forward with a smile. “Alright, what do we have so far?”

“Yeah, you innocent, harmless, young man. What d’ya got?”

Sam pulled out a folder. “Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condo he designed.”

“Hmm.” Dean hummed. “Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That’s classy. When did he call animal control?”

“Two days before he died.”

“Did he actually say black dog?”

“Yeah. A, and I quote, vicious, wild, black dog. Authorities couldn’t find it, no one else saw it. In fact, the authorities are kinda confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town.” Sam sighed. “And after that, no more calls, doesn’t show up for work. Then he takes the swan dive.”

I looked back at Dean and picked a fry off his plate. “Think we’re dealing with an actual black dog?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Sams, what’s the lore on it?”

Sam handed me a few pages from the folder with a shrug. “It’s all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but… some say they’re animal spirits, others say death omens. Either way, they’re big and nasty.”

Dean plucked a sketch from the pile and held it up with a smirk. “Yeah, I bet they could hump the fuck outta your leg, huh?”

Sam glared and I snorted. Dean’s smile turned into a frown.

“What? They could!”

                                                              ***

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Sam and Dean insisted that I wear heels to look older, and I could already feel blisters forming.

“So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?”

“That’s right.” The man nodded at us. “Now one more time, this is for…”

“A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest.”

The man snorted, and Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“This funny to you?”

“No, it’s…” He sighed. “It’s just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind. Well, he gets another tribute.”

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Any idea why he’d do such a thing?”

He shrugged. “I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life.”

“How so?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I’m capable, but next to him, I… and it wasn’t always that way, either.”

“No?”

“You wanna know the truth? There was a time where Sean couldn’t even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he was working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive.”

“Right.” Sam nodded. “So what changed?”

“You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing… he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like… the level of van Gogh, and Mozart.” He stopped, staring at the ground.

“What?”

“It’s funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don’t they? To have that kind of talent. Why… why just throw it away?”

                                                             ***

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. Sam smiled from beside me.

“Are you sleepy?”

I nodded. “A little.”

He held his arm up and I dove into his side, head resting against his chest. I let my eyes fall shut as I took a deep breath. I hadn’t been sleeping right for the last week. Drinking Dean’s blood had healed me, but he insisted that doing it every day would make me stronger. So far, it was doing nothing but giving me vivid nightmares.

I had woken up thinking I had killed him, and after two nights of hearing me scream, Sam suggested that I sleep in his bed instead. I felt like the scum of the earth, and although I knew better, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Sam saw me in the same way.

Jinx yawned from the backseat, and Sam giggled. The driver’s side door opened, and Dean slid in.

“So?”

“Secretary’s name is Carly. She’s twenty-three, she kayaks, and they’re real.” Dean grinned at me.

I sighed, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t happen to ask her if she’s seen any black dogs lately, did you?”

Dean pulled a folded page from his jacket pocket. “Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There’s nineteen calls in all. And uh…” He pulled a post-it off the paper. “I don’t know what this thing is.”

Sam plucked the post-it from him and laughed.

“You mean her MySpace address?”

“Yeah, MySpace. What the hell is that?”

Sam and I both laughed, and Dean stared.

“Guys, I’m being serious. Is it like…” He leaned over and put his hands over my ears, but I could still hear him.

“Is it like some sort of porn thing?”

Sam and I only laughed harder.

                                                             ***

I sighed and rolled my neck. Dean huffed.

“I swear, if this is another fucking pomeranian barking in the neighbor’s yard-”

The front door opened, and Dean cleared his throat.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” He flashed his ID. “Animal Control.”

“Oh, someone already came yesterday.” The young woman shook her head.

“Oh, we’re just following up.”

“We’re looking for a Dr. Sylvia Pearlman.”

                                                             ***

“The doctor, well, she… I don’t know exactly when she’ll be back. She left two days ago.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded. “And you are?”

“I’m Ms. Pearlman’s maid.”

“So, where did the doctor go?” I asked, keeping an eye on Dean, who was roaming around the living room.

“I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “She just packed and went, she didn’t say where. That stray dog, did you finally find it?”

“Oh, uh, not yet. You know, you didn’t ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?”

“Well, no.” She sighed. “I never even heard it. I was almost starting to think that she was imagining things, but she’s not like that, so…”

Dean plucked a photograph off the wall and squinted at it. “Hey, I read she was uh, chief surgeon at the hospital. She’s gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That’s pretty young for that job.”

The woman nodded. “Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position about ten years ago, I think.”

Dean hummed, and I sighed.

“An overnight success. Ten years ago.”

Dean flipped the photograph over. “Yeah, we know a guy like that.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, hey. Look at this.” He showed us the back of the photo. “Lloyd’s Bar.”

                                                             ***

I sighed as Dean put the car in park. He ruffled my hair with a smile and a wink.

“Alright. We’ll be back, keep an eye on Jinx. Yeah?”

I nodded. “Okay. Be careful please.”

Sam smiled and kissed my head before clambering out of the car. “Always, bug. You too.”

I watched as they started toward the door, and then Dean stopped. He and Sam exchanged a few words, then Dean pointed. I shifted around to see and sighed.

A crossroads, with yellow flowers growing in each corner. I squinted. Those were yarrow flowers, which were used for rituals. Summoning rituals.

“I’ll be right back, girl.” I patted Jinx on the head before climbing out of the car.

The boys heard the noise, and Sam beckoned me over.

“So, two people become sudden success about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out at Lloyd’s.” Dean stated.

“Where there just happens to be a crossroads.” Sam sighed.

“You guys think?”

Dean shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

He walked into the middle of the crossroads and stopped, looking around. “This seem about dead center to you?”

Sam and I both tilted our heads.

“A little more to the left.”

“My left or your left?”

“Uh, our left. So your right.”

“Gotcha.” Dean mumbled as he shuffled a few steps over.

“Stop, there.” Sam put a hand up.

“I’ll get you a shovel.” I put a hand up. “Keys.”

He tossed them and I snatched them out of the air, hurrying to get a shovel from the trunk. I grabbed it and shut the trunk, handing it off Sam. He took it to Dean while I let Jinx out, holding her on a tight leash so she wouldn’t get in Dean’s way. Dean dug a few inches past the gravel and the sound of metal against metal made me cringe.

“Yahtzee.” He grinned and dropped the shovel, going at it with his hands.

He pulled out an old rusted box and dusted it off, coughing. He opened it and Sam and I dropped to his side. I sat in the dirt and picked through the box, pulling out old, small bones. Sam took a jar with a sigh.

“I’d be willing to bet this is graveyard dirt. And that’s a black cat bone.”

“That’s serious spellwork.” Dean sighed.

“Yeah, like Deep South Hoodoo shit.” I put the bones back in the box and rubbed my hands off on my jeans. 

“Used to summon a demon.” Sam huffed.

“Not just summon. Crossroads are where pacts are made.” Dean grew upset as he stood. “These people are making deals with the fucking thing. You know, cause that always ends good.”

“They’re seeing dogs, alright. Just not black dogs.” 

“Hellhounds. Demonic dobermans.” I huffed, petting Jinx’s head.

“Yeah. Whoever this demon is, it’s back and collecting. And that doctor lady?” Dean let out a low whistle. “Wherever she’s running? She ain’t running fast enough.”

We circled back to the car, tin box in hand. Dean had it in his hands, but he had closed it. He was agitated, and I felt guilt start to rise in my throat.

“So it’s just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads kinda deal?”

“Yeah, except that wasn’t a legend. I mean, you know his music.”

Sam shrugged, and Dean deadpanned. “You don’t know Robert Johnson’s songs? Sam, there’s occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?”

Sam only pouted, and Dean sighed.

“Story goes, he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs.”

“And now it’s happening all over again.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “We’ve gotta figure out who else made deals here.”

“Great.” Dean groaned. “So we’ve gotta clean up these peoples’ messes for em? I mean, they’re not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play Let’s Make A Deal.”

“So what, we should just let them die?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and save em?”

“Dean.” Sam and I made the same face.

“Fine.” Dean sighed. “Alright, rituals like this, you’ve gotta put your own photo in the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let’s go and see if anyone inside knows him.” He paused. “If he’s still alive.”

                                                             ***

“What’s this guy’s name again?” I asked as we walked up the set of wide, wooden stairs.

“George Darrow. Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd’s. Though this house probably ain’t up next on MTV cribs, is it?”

Sam chuckled and I sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, so whatever kinda deal he made…”

“Wasn’t for cash.” Dean huffed. “Oh, who knows.” He shrugged and grinned at us. “Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis.”

Sam and I sighed.

“No, I’m just saying… this dude’s got one epic bill due. Hope he at least asked for something fun.”

I made it to the door first and noticed black dust lined up under the door. I crouched and slid a finger through it.

“What’s wrong?”

“The hell is this, pepper?” I stood and held my finger out to Dean.

The door swung open and I jumped back into Dean, caught off guard.

“Who the hell are you?”

“George Darrow?” Sam tried.

“I’m not buying anything.” He moved to shut the door in our faces.

“Whoa, whoa.” Dean chuckled. “Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there.”

George glared and I sighed.

“Usually when you wanna keep something evil out, you use salt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man spat.

“Talking about this.” Dean held the photo from the tin box up. “Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?”

The man’s face went blank and he pulled away.

“Look, we just want to help. Please.” Sam begged. “Just five minutes.”

He sighed and let us in. I followed Dean, and Sam stayed behind me. The apartment was full of paintings, some done and others barely started. There was a table full of paint and brushes, and a bottle of whiskey. George served himself some in a glass, and the three of us looked around, and then at each other.

“So what is that stuff out front?”

“Goofer dust.”

I blinked, and Sam and Dean awkwardly faced George.

“What, you kids think you know something about something but not Goofer dust?” He pulled a brown sack from behind an easel and tossed it straight at us.

Sam and Dean both flinched, and I reached up and caught it with ease.

“We know a little about a lot of things.” I explained as I inched closer to Dean, looking at the bag.

“Just enough to make us dangerous.” Dean mumbled.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons.”

“Demons, now that we know.” Dean perked up.

“Well, then.” George huffed. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.” He slumped in a chair. “Four minutes left.”

Dean and I glanced at each other with slitted eyes before both turning to Sam. He took the lead with gentleness.

“Mr. Darrow. We know you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, that you got yourself into.” Dean grumbled.

I elbowed him, hard, and he grunted as Sam kept talking.

“But it’s not hopeless, alright? There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“Listen.” George sighed. “I get that you boys wanna help. But sometimes a person makes their bed, they’ve just got to lie down in it. I’m the one who called that demon in the first place.”

Dean huffed as he shot us both an I told you so look. “What’d you do it for?”

“I was weak. I mean… who don’t wanna be great? Who don’t want their life to mean something? I just… I never thought about the price.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Hell, no. Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I’m still broke and lonely. Just that now I got this pile of paintings don’t nobody want. But that wasn’t the worst…”

“Go on.” Sam pressed.

“Demon didn’t leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd’s for a week. Just chatting. Making more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean… who’s gonna listen to an old drunk?”

“How many others?” I asked.

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady. I kept up with them, they’ve been in the papers. Least they got famous.” He sighed.

“Who else?”

He shook his head.

“Come on, George, think.” Dean pressured.

“One more. Uh, a nice guy, too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don’t know what he asked for. Don’t matter now. We done for.”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “No, there’s gotta be a way.”

“You don’t get it!” George shouted, and the three of us inched away. “I don’t want a way!”

“Look, you don’t-”

“I called that thing! I brought it on myself! I brought it on them…” He sighed. “I’m going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I’m done. I’m just trying to hold them off til then. Buy a little time. Okay, kids. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.”

“We can’t just-”

“Get out!” George snapped. “I got work to do.”

“You don’t really wanna die.” Sam reasoned.

“I don’t?” George challenged. “I’m… I’m tired.”

The three of us shared a look before heading for the door.

                                                             ***

Sam knocked on the door, and Jinx tugged at the leash. I tugged back, forcing her to sit. The door opened, and a man poked his head out.

“Yes?”

“Evan Hudson?”

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd’s? Would’ve been about ten years ago.” Dean’s face was devoid of expression.

Evan slammed the door shut with a grunt, and I heard the latch go. I sighed.

“Come on, we’re not demons!” Dean called.

“Any other bright ideas?” I turned to Dean with a scowl.

Dean gave me a bitchface before turning, setting himself, and then kicking the door down in one go. I let go of Jinx and she ran in, following where Evan had gone. Dean set himself back up, and Sam smacked his leg down.

“Wait!” He hissed.

Dean scowled, and Sam shot him a look right back. He turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. There was no noise from inside, and Sam stepped in first. Jinx stayed by my side, tail wagging.

“Evan?”

“Please!” He jumped out into sight, hands up. “Don’t hurt me.”

Sam put his own hands up, and Dean’s face remained blank. Jinx sat down, head tilted to the side.

“We’re not going to hurt you, alright? We’re here to help you.”

Dean took the lead, stepping forward. “We know all about the genius deal you made.”

“What?” Evan was shocked. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re trying to stop it.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Evan shuffled backward as I took a step forward.

“Well, you don’t, but you’re kinda running low on options there, buddy boy.” Dean spat.

Evan swallowed and began to pace back and forth. “Can you stop it?”

“Don’t know. We can try.”

“I don’t want to die.” Evan whined.

“Of course you don’t, not now.” Dean hissed.

“Dean.” Sam whispered. “Stop.”

“What’d you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?”

“My wife.”

Dean let out a harsh laugh. “Right. Getting the girl. Well, that’s worth a trip to hell for.”

“Dean, stop.” I warned.

“No. He’s right.” Evan sighed. “I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm, that… woman, or whatever she was… at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but… I don’t know how… I was desperate.”

“Desperate?” Sam repeated.

“Julie was dying.”

“You did it to save her?” I asked, voice quiet.

“She had cancer. They’d stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying… a matter of days. So yeah. I made the deal. And I’d do it again.” Evan shook his head. “I’d have died for her on the spot.”

Dean took a predatory step forward. “You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn’t have to live without her. But guess what? She’s gonna have to live without you now. What if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul, huh! How do you think she would feel!”

“Dean!” I shouted, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him backward.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Sam warned, then turned to Evan. “You just sit tight, alright? We’re gonna figure this out.”

I pulled Dean into the hallway, grip on his wrist tight. Jinx stayed with Evan, and Sam followed us out.

“What’s your deal?” I hissed.

“I’m fine.” Dean snapped.

“Dean-”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean snarled. “Look, I got an idea. Ol, you still got the Goofer dust?”

I scowled as I pulled the bag out and handed it over. “You throw George’s hoodoo at the Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I’m gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.”

“The fucking hell you are.” I glared at him.

“Olive, I’m the fucking grown up here.”

“Dean, are you nuts?” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.”

“How much time, Dean?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know. A while. It’s not easy for those clusterfucks to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine.”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “No way.”

“You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy. Not unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“Dean, we’re not gonna let you summon that bitch.”

“Why not?” Dean turned back to me.

I shook my head, and Sam jumped in.

“We don’t like where your head is at right now, that’s why not.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Dean, you’ve been on edge ever since we found the crossroad.” I reached for his hand.

He let me take it and turned back to Sam with a huff.

“She’s right. And we know why.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Dean tore his hand from mine and brushed past us both. He shoved the Goofer dust into Sam’s chest without stopping, ready to take off.

“Dad.” I called. “It’s because Dad.”

“I’ve been thinking it too, De. I’m sure you have too.”

Dean’s shoulders shrunk and he sighed. “It fits, doesn’t it? I’m alive. Dad’s head. Yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?”

“I think I hear it!” Evan shouted. “It’s outside!”

Dean steeled himself once more, but his expression softened. “Just keep him alive, okay?”

“Dean…”

“Go.” Dean pointed.

Sam and I turned back and Dean took off. Sam began to line the windows with Goofer dust. I tied Jinx’s leash to the bookshelf Evan had hidden behind and took a handful from the bag, making a circle around Evan.

“What is this stuff?”

“Goofer dust.”

“Is she serious?”

“Afraid so.” Sam sighed. “Look. Believe us, don’t believe us. Whatever you want. Just stay inside the circle, alright?”

Evan nodded and hugged himself as he stood in the circle. Sam helped me finish it, shaking out the last grains from the bag.

“Alright. That’s the last of it.” Sam sighed and we began to pace around the room, eyes on the dust.

Sam was quiet, thinking. I glanced over at Evan, who looked horrified, but somehow at peace. I sighed and turned to Sam.

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad.”

Sam blinked. “What?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad.” I repeated, feeling tears brew in my eyes. “It was supposed to be me.”

“Olive, what are you…”

“I gave Bobby a different list. I did it on purpose. I was gonna make a deal. For Dean. That way, you, and him, and Dad would be together.”

“Olive.” Sam shot me a warning glance.

“That’s what Dad and I were fighting about before Dean woke up. He knew what I was gonna do. So he did it instead.”

“Olive…”

“It’s my fault that Dad is dead. It’s not Dean’s. I should’ve been quicker.”

“Olive.”

“If Bobby hadn’t said anything, it would’ve happened. And Dean would be happy. He’d have Dad.”

“Olive, don’t you let him hear you say that. Okay? He will never forgive you.”

My heart shattered at the prospect, but I shook my head. “I don’t care. I’m so tired of lying to him. I can’t see him like this, not anymore. I should’ve died, and Dad should still be here.”

“Olive, that’s not-”

“I’m a fucking monster, Sam! How many teenage girls do you know that have to drink their brother’s blood everyday?” I hissed.

Sam looked away, and I nodded, wiping away my tears.

“Exactly. I should be dead, and Dad should be here.”

“Did you guys hear that?”

“No. Where?” I wiped my tears and stood straight.

“Right outside the door.”

The office doors began to rattle like it was the end of the world. Sam grabbed Jinx and pulled me to follow as he stepped inside the circle of Goofer dust. The three of us stared at the door as it shook harder. Jinx whined, and then barked.

“Just don’t move, alright?” Sam ordered. “Stay where you are.”

The door almost came off the hinges before stopping suddenly. We swallowed hard before turning to Evan.

“Do you still hear it?”

“No. Is it over?”

We looked at each other, and Evan whipped around to stare at a grate in the corner. I mumbled a string of curse words to myself, and Sam pushed Jinx into my arms. He slowly crouched and picked me up, placing me on his hip.

The grate burst off the wall, and the Goofer dust began to blow away.

“It’s here!” Evan shouted.

I looked and gasped.

“Ol?”

“I guess the glasses work.”

A huge, hairy, pitch black dog that looked more like a wolf moved closer. Red eyes and yellow fangs, and everything about it screamed death. Another one came out after it.

“Sammy.” I whined, clinging to him.

“Can’t you see it?” Evan whined.

“No! Stay inside the circle!” Sam ordered.

I tightened my grip on him. The dogs circled us, but it was like watching a silent movie. Jinx let out a howl. They clawed at the floor, gouging deeper than an inch in the wood. They stopped just outside the Goofer dust, glaring.

Sam huddled the three of us closer, trying to protect Evan while keeping me on in case we needed to bolt. I watched as the wind from the grate continued to eat at our circle.

“Come on, De.” Sam whispered.

The wind blew at our hair, and Jinx let out a loud whimper. I ducked my head into Sam’s neck and tensed up, ready to die.

“Circles broken, come on!” Sam shouted and took off, dragging Evan along with us.

Evan ducked into a storage room down the hall, and Sam slammed the door shut behind us. 

“Bug! Need a hand!”

I handed Jinx off to Evan and let out a growl, helping Sam hold the door shut. My head began to throb, and my fangs tore at my bottom lip. The hellhounds pushed hard, but Sam and I pushed back harder, both grunting.

The pounding stopped.

                                                             ***

“Demons lie all the time, right?” Sam repeated what we had told him so long ago when we were on the plane. “Maybe she was lying.”

“Come on. That really what you think?”

Sam looked down, and I looked away, shuffling closer to him.

“How could he do it?”

“He did it for you.”

“Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him… wherever he is right now. I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that… yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this.”

“How many people do you think Dad saved? Total.”

“That’s not the point, Sam.”

“Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That’s his legacy, Dean.”

“She’s right, man. We’re still here. We gotta keep going. For him.”

There was a long pause, and I turned back to Dean.

“De?”

He hummed in response.

“When you were trapping that demon, you weren't… I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?”

He stared straight ahead, then glanced out the window. Tears began to stream down my face and I turned to bury myself in Sam’s side as the radio began to blare. Sam only wrapped his arms tighter around me.

                                                             ***

Sam shut the bathroom door, and I heard the shower turn on.

“Dean.” I whispered.

“What is it, kid?” He didn’t look up from the TV.

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad. I’m sorry.” I sat on the bed opposite of him and fiddled with my thumbs.

He turned the TV off and knelt down in front of me.

“What the hell does that mean, Olive?” He got closer to my face.

“I was supposed to make the deal. Dad did it instead. It’s my fault he’s gone, not yours. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean you were gonna make a deal?”

“My soul. For your life. But Dad found out. And he did it instead.” I looked up with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s face conveyed an emotion I couldn’t describe. He looked like he wanted to kill me and smother me in kisses at the same time.

He put his hands on my knees and let out a shaky breath.

“Why would you even think about doing that?”

The tears began to flow freely. “I just wanted you to be happy. You loved Dad, more than Sam and I ever did. I just wanted you to be happy, Dean.”

His hands moved up to my cheeks and took another deep breath. “Olive Sam Winchester. If you think, even for a moment, that I would be happier with anybody than I am with you and Sam, you’re dead wrong.”

My lips quivered and I looked up, meeting his eyes through blurred vision.

“I’m sorry.”

He only shook his head and pulled me into a hug.

Previous Ep: The Usual Suspects (2.07)

Next Ep: Croatoan (2.09)

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@i67​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Double Life

Summary: Dean Winchester has been lying for the past four years. He likes to think he’s gotten pretty good at it too. Four years ago, Dean Winchester woke up in the wrong universe. Four years ago, his life became a lie as he started to try and find a way back home. Four years ago, he became Jensen Ackles. But today, for some reason, when he woke up and saw his Y/N sitting up in bed next to him, he knew this was the breakthrough he was looking for after all these years…

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Austin, Texas

Word Count: 8,400ish

Warnings: language, angst

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

The alarm blared in the dark apartment at six thirty in the morning. Dean groaned and slapped his hand against it. With a sigh he moved the warm covers away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was still exhausted from the shoots the day before. It was fun. Don’t get him wrong, he loved doing the physical action scenes when they let him. It reminded him of hunting sometimes.

Doing it over and over and over again for twelve hours though wasn’t always the greatest. He yawned as he stood up quietly and stretched, glancing over his shoulder, giving a smile to Y/N who was passed out in bed, wearing one of Jensen’s shirts. He had to hand it to the chick. She took that whole conversation pretty well and the fact he wasn’t currently locked away in a mental institution told him he’d probably made a safe bet in letting her in on the secret a few years back.

Of course she was the only one that knew. He couldn’t have faked it this long without her. She wanted Jensen back as much as Dean wanted to go home to his Y/N.

It was too early in the morning to think about that.

Dean trudged into the bathroom off the bedroom, pulling the door shut gently. He used the bathroom and took a quick shower, not bothering with drying his hair. He brushed his teeth quick, rolling his eyes as he flossed and stuck on one of those whitening strips.

Freaking actors. Dean walked into the open door at the other end of the bathroom and walked around the corner to the small walk in closet. He grabbed the same pair of jeans he’d worn all week, the belt still in them and a black t shirt from the top of the laundry basket. He hadn’t glanced at his phone but winter in Canada sucked no matter what the day so he pulled on a gray fleece hoodie Jensen had. Dean felt warm already, padding out to the kitchen with a pair of socks in hand.

He put on a pot of coffee for Y/N and sat up on one of the stools, pulling the wool items on and glancing at the clock. Almost seven. He walked over to the other side of the apartment, a small office area there where Y/N worked sometimes. He flipped through her notebook where she’d tabbed it, smiling as he read through the few scribbles. It wasn’t anything helpful but Dean was fairly certain she had managed to figure out who had robbed the Milton bank branch a few weeks back. She was getting good at that part too.

But Dean didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t believe he was ever going home again. Magic didn’t exist in that universe. A few small medical miracles here and there that were unexplained sure, but nothing supernatural as far as he could tell.

They were supposed to go “home” to Texas that weekend. Someone had a birthday party. He thought it was for one of Jensen’s parents but he couldn’t remember. He’d ask Y/N about it later. He put her notebook back in place and wandered over to the large floor to ceiling windows. A city never slept and certainly not one as large as this but it was starting to wake up, cars going by on the streets below, ships passing by in the bay far out.

Dean scratched the back of his neck and went back to the bathroom, ripping off the white strips and rinsing out his mouth. He looked tired but they’d fix him up in makeup. He sighed and left the room, jotting down a note for Y/N that he’d meet her at the airport. He turned up the heat in the bathroom for her, ruffling her hair a little as she groaned in bed.

“Wake up, kiddo. You got work,” he said softly.

“Five more minutes,” she grumbled.

“It’s almost seven already. Come on. Up and at ‘em,” he said. “I left a note I’ll meet you at the airport, alright? Plus I made coffee.”

“Best fake husband ever,” she mumbled.

“I know, right?” teased Dean, patting her shoulder. “Jensen’s got a lot to live up to when he gets back.”

“I’m getting up. Go play pretend, Dean,” she mumbled.

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” said Dean, bending down and kissing her forehead.

Dean headed to the front of the apartment and slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbing his backpack, double checking his ID and wallet were in there. He grabbed the baseball cap off the front table and plopped it on, locking up after himself as he headed out. He yawned again in the elevator, riding it down, saying good morning to the doorman before putting on his fake smile for the world.

Dean Winchester was nothing more than a character on a TV show for the rest of the day, not until he was home alone with Y/N again.

“Morning, Jensen,” said Cliff when Dean climbed in the passenger seat of his truck.

“Morning,” said Dean, closing his eyes and resting his head against the window. “We got time to run to starbucks? I don’t think I can wait to get to set.”

“Home sweet home,” said Dean when they walked into their house around midnight, Dean already heading for bed when Y/N wandered off for the kitchen. “Y/N. Come on. Let’s get some shut eye.”

“He’s never coming back is he,” she said quietly. “Don’t treat me like I’m some no nothing civilian either, Winchester.”

“Truthfully,” said Dean, setting the bags down by the front door, following her over to the kitchen counter. “I lost hope about three years ago. But I keep trying, keep looking. I want you to have him back.”

“I know. I want you to have her back too,” she said. “I’m just having a bad day again is all.”

Dean didn’t say anything but grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom. He knew some days it was too much for her. After all, she was living a lie too. Only she didn’t have a lifetime of hunting experience to help her through it. All she had was him and Dean tried his best to help her when she got down.

“Let’s change into pajamas and then we’ll watch a movie, alright? Something with Jensen in it,” he said softly.

“Thanks, Dean.”

You woke up with a stiff neck. You could feel strong arms wrapped around yours and snuggled into them, even though it made it even harder. Last night had been bad. It’d been a rough hunt. Jensen got hurt and it’d been your mistake that caused it. The dumbass had to go in and take the hit for you. He shredded his leg pretty good but thankfully Cas had been there to heal him up.

You yelled at him when you got back to the bunker, Jensen standing there quietly and just taking it once again. You told him over and over again that he was not a hunter and when he was out there he listened to your orders, to Sam’s orders. Hell, even Jack had more authority in that department than him.

So once again, Jensen stood there and let you shout at him, kept his gaze on the ground and his body small, like a schoolboy in trouble.

And it broke you. The shouting turned into crying and then he was right there, pulling you into his arms and apologizing to you for not listening again. He helped you calm down and get to bed, even sitting in there with you as you let out the frustration of the last four years again. It happened occasionally and occasionally it was him who was the one that needed you to be there. It was so completely unfair and you wanted nothing more than for Jensen to be the same person he was when you met him all those years ago.

Sweet, strong and protective, but sweet. He was something like maybe Dean would have been if he’d had a normal life. But Jensen, for all the patience he had, sometimes he couldn’t help himself. He learned to make himself useful. He mostly researched, god the guy was a speed reader. But the rare chance he was let out on an actual hunt normally resulted in him crossing a line and someone getting hurt, namely him.

You were pretty sure he was simply tired of being afraid all the time. You were pretty tired too if you were being honest.

You forced yourself away and sat up in bed, rubbing your hands over your face. Maybe you all just needed to take a break. Go to the freaking beach for a week, take some time and get your heads on straight. Forget about finding new spells or magic or ways to get Jensen home and Dean back.

“Hey,” you said quietly, rubbing Jensen’s shoulder. He mumbled and you wiped the sleep from your eyes, finally opening them. They went wide in the next second, head whipping around the large bedroom.

“Y/N, what,” mumbled Jensen. You turned and looked down at him, Jensen rolling over and blinking up at you. “Nightmare?”

“I…” you said, Jensen tilting his head. He sat up and stared at you, narrowing his eyes.

“What state are we in?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Jens. Kansas? Something weird-”

He shot his arms around you, giving you the biggest hug you’d ever gotten. He was mumbling something into your shoulder, pulling away for a brief second to crash his lips to yours.

You nearly hit him for that. Aside from the one time when you thought it was Dean four years ago, you’d never kissed Jensen. You got some forehead kisses every now and then but this was way past the scope of…

“Sweetheart,” he said. “Sweetheart, it’s me. Dean.”

You stared at him, the green eyes staring back a little heavier than the one’s you’d grown used to.

“Dean?” you asked. He nodded, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Dean?”

“Yeah. Dean,” he said, running his hands over your face. “You’re my girl, right? My Y/N?”

“I sure as fuck am,” you said. You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours, giving him a too harsh kiss but you didn’t care. He was here and safe and alive. You were pretty sure you were leaving bruises on his cheeks you were holding him so hard but he didn’t seem to care, smiling as he kissed you back, his hands tugging you into his lap, keeping you as close as possible.

“Hi,” he breathed out when you needed air. His forehead rested against yours, a goofy smile all over his face. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I know the feeling,” you said, releasing a laugh. You snuggled into him, not saying much of anything for a good long while. He nuzzled your cheek and you sat like that for a long time, well until you saw the cracks of light slipping through the curtain.

“Did you find a way?” asked Dean eventually. You sighed and shook your head. You still had no idea what was going on but at least you were together now. “Was...is Jensen there? Is he alive?”

“Yeah. He’s nice. You’d like him. He keeps Baby all spick and span for you,” you said.

“Good man,” said Dean with a smirk. “I assume he told you all about Y/N, his version.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing they’re together now. I mean, everyone’s still in the wrong universe but at least we’re all together,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean with a sad smile. “We have to figure out how to get back. I don’t know how long we can keep this up if we’re pretending.”

“Pretending what?”

“Hey mom,” said Dean as you sat in the family room, watching him move around the kitchen. You were still trying to get your head around the fact he’d been lying about everything the past four years, about how Y/N went along with him. He smiled as he listened to the woman on the phone speak, humming a few times. “Yeah, Y/N’s not feeling awesome. I know we got the party tonight...yeah, maybe next weekend we can drive up. I don’t think her stomach can handle it today though...mom, she’s not pregnant...yes, someday you will get grandbabies...alright, alright, love you too. Hey, Happy Birthday...I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You’re good at that,” you said quietly, Dean shrugging as he made up a few sandwiches for lunch.

“I had to be. Don’t want to get locked up for being crazy. Y/N filled in a lot of the gaps. Thankfully she wrapped up the birthday present and card for Jensen’s mom. I could have sworn it was his dad’s this weekend. Almost got myself in trouble on that one,” said Dean. “Could have always looked in the book.”

“Book?” you asked. Dean got up and went over to a drawer, pulling out a thick notebook stuffed full of sticky notes and tabs.

“This, according to Y/N, is all of the important information from Jensen’s life I might need to know. It’s gotten larger over the years. Most I have memorized at this point,” he said.

“Geez. I’m starting to think Jensen got off easy,” you said, flipping through the thing. “You memorized this whole book?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t focus on childhood stuff too much since I can easily say I forgot. This world Y/N’s helps me out quite a bit,” he said.

“I’m sure Sam’s having a field day,” you said tossing your head back. “I bet he freaking tests her. It’s what we did Jensen when he got there.”

“It’s cool. Y/N knows quite a bit about the supernatural too. Some from the show, some I told her,” he said.

“Show?” you asked. Dean chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wait, you still film Jensen’s TV show?”

“Hey, turns out I can act,” said Dean. “...With help from-”

“Y/N? I think I owe this chick a fruit basket or something,” you said.

“I’m sure you kept Jensen okay,” he said with a smile.

“Relatively,” you said quietly. “He hunts occasionally. He wants to help. He’s really smart but sometimes he just has to get out in the field and we let him and every time he gets hurt I’m like, I can’t believe I let him out there.”

“He die yet?” asked Dean with a smirk.

“No...came close once. Cas fixed him up. He stayed pretty close to home after that. I try to keep him like his old self,” you said. You looked around the house, Dean moving the book to the coffee table. “Shit, this house is nice.”

“You don’t even want to know the taxes on it,” Dean chuckled. “I got so domestic it’s not even funny.”

“You got more color in your cheeks, you look healthy,” you said, nuzzling his cheek with your finger, Dean turning into it. “I wish we could have this in our world.”

“I would give up all of this in an instant to get you again,” said Dean. You shifted closer to him on the couch and Dean pulled you straight into his lap. “Don’t leave me, sweetheart.”

“Never, Dean,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a kiss. “Never.”

You fluttered open your eyes, Dean awake in bed beside you, his fingers dancing over your bare back. A day of just the two of you being close and together had been amazing. Spending time with him was something you were sure you’d never take for granted ever again.

“Love you,” you said.

“Love you,” he said. You leaned over to kiss him when you heard a door open outside the room. “Oh fuck. I forgot. Just stay here and put on some clothes.”

He shot up out of bed and grabbed some boxers, quickly out the door and pulling it shut. You found a robe close by and pulled it on, a laugh echoing outside. You poked your head out the door, a man looking like Sam’s twin bent over in laughter next to the front door.

“Jens, dude. You seriously ditched your mom’s birthday to have sex? I mean…” said the other man, giggling to himself. “What are you? A teenager getting laid for the first time?”

“Jared,” sighed Dean. “Y/N isn’t feeling well and-”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry,” said Jared, giving you a soft smile when he saw you. “You guys want me out of here I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. She’s got a migraine,” said Dean.

“Sorry,” said Jared quietly. “I’m guessing you don’t need me to housesit then?”

“No, no. We got it. Sorry I forgot to tell you. Just be quiet, please for her,” said Dean.

“Feel better, munchers,” said Jared, quickly stepping outside.

“Not Sam?” you asked.

“Uh yeah. That was Jared, not Sam, obviously,” he said.

“Jensen’s told me about him,” you said. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. You guys are close. We’re all close. I forgot he was supposed to stop by and bring in the mail this weekend while we were out of town,” he said.

“He doesn’t know, obviously,” you said.

“Only one that did was Y/N. You have to be careful not to call me Dean in front of other people,” he said.

“So you live a lie,” you said.

“It was either that or end up in the nuthouse,” said Dean with a shrug. “I just got lucky Y/N understood. Otherwise I would have lost it a long time ago.”

“...We still don’t know what made me and Y/N switch places,” you said.

“Not a clue and magic doesn’t exist here. We’re stuck until something happens again,” said Dean, grabbing your hand as you headed back for bed.

“Dean,” you said, getting a smile from him. “Y/N didn’t happen to make one of those books for herself, did she? I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

“My brain hurts,” you said two days later, Dean dragging the two of you through the airport. “I can’t believe you fly on planes.”

“I’m indifferent to it. I don’t like it but I don’t freak like I used to,” he said. “We got pre-check so let’s head through.”

“World traveller you are,” you mumbled.

“Actually, I am,” he said with a smirk, showing you his passport. “Let’s just get to the apartment so we can try to relax a little before work tomorrow.”

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Public. Jensen,” he said quietly.

“Even when no one’s around?” you whispered.

“Even then,” he said with a sad smile. “Someone might hear. Only at home.”

“This sucks,” you said. “I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.”

“Neither do I but appearances have to be kept up,” said Dean. “Case in point, you’re about to have your first test.”

He nodded and you saw Jared sitting over by the gate, giving you both a nod.

“He’s sort of our best friend so the faster you warm up to him, the better,” said Dean.

“This guy hasn’t picked up after 4 years that you aren’t Jensen?” you asked.

“There are times I think he suspects but just say you’re having an off day and he lets it go,” said Dean quietly as you both walked over. “Sup dude.”

“Hey guys. How’s the migraine?” asked Jared. It took a moment to realize he was talking to you. He smiled and you sat down, shaking your head.

“Much better,” you said.

“You guys want to grab a bite at my place? I think it’s my turn,” said Jared.

“No, I’m sure we…” you trailed off, Jared raising an eyebrow at you. “I uh...I am on my period. Horrible cramps. Like this all up in here, awful.”

“Wasn’t she on her period like a week ago?” said Jared.

“Ew, why do you know-”

“You borrowed some pads Gen keeps in my trailer when you two got lunch and you are acting weird, like not normal Y/N weird. Weird weird,” said Jared.

“Sorry, just...off day,” you said, Jared nodding.

“Alright, just don’t lie to me, munchers,” he said with a scowl.

“We thought we were pregnant. False positive. Someone hasn’t been in the best mood over it,” said Dean. You blinked at him but Jared turned all smiles after that.

“Hey, you don’t got to lie about something like that to me,” he said softly. “Shit, I know you guys have been trying for a while.”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Dean. “It was a bit of a shock.”

“It’ll happen someday,” he said. You hummed, nudging Dean in the ribs.

“Can we grab a quick bite before the flight?” you asked.

“Probably more like a snack but sure,” he said. “Jare, mind watching our stuff for a minute?”

“Sure thing, let me get back to my script again,” he said as you both headed off.

“So they got snacks in the-”

“I don’t want a snack,” you mumbled. “I want...did you…”

“I did not sleep with other you,” said Dean quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Nothing beyond what a good friend would do.”

“Sorry. I know. He just...you have to pretend about trying to have a family and how have you not gone insane yet?” you asked. “I mean, I had Sam and Cas and Jack and...Jens, doesn’t have to deal with that. He’s just himself in our world and…”

“I have had more than one bad night,” said Dean, giving you a hug. “It gets easier with time. This is different, you being here though. I still don’t know what’s happening but you got to stick this thing out with me, okay?”

“I just want more time with you,” you said.

“I know,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Just try to keep to small talk for now. It’ll get easier, I promise.”

“I ordered Y/N’s favorite,” said Jared with a big smile when you both went over to his apartment that night.

“Thanks, Jared,” you said, sliding into the apartment, Dean right along after you. You let him take the lead, patting a spot at the kitchen island you assumed was your normal one.

“So what are you working on now?” asked Jared.

“Uh,” you said, shrugging as Dean mouthed at you. “New show?”

Dean nodded that that was correct and you breathed a sigh of relief before Jared spun back around.

“I know that. Anything you can tell us about?” he asked.

“Oh uh, not really, still in the early stages,” you said, Dean squeezing your hand under the counter. “You know how it is.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a hit like the other shows,” he said. “You showrunner on this one?”

“No. Just creator and producer,” you said, Dean humming. Fuck this was stressful. You couldn’t even imagine what going to Y/N’s job was going to be like.

“Got your pitch all set?” he asked.

“Pitch?” you asked.

“Yeah. Aren’t you pitching a new show tomorrow?” he asked.

“Oh, totally. Just don’t really want to think about it right now,” you said. “Nerves.”

“I’ll shut up about it then,” he said, sliding a plate of sushi in front of you. “Dig in.”

“I ate raw fish,” you said. “And wasabi. Who am I?”

“Very patient,” teased Dean when you back home. “You seemed to like it though.”

“It wasn’t bad. Not my favorite. Where is Y/N’s pitch I’m supposed to be giving tomorrow?” you asked. Dean winced. “Dean.”

“So...sometimes she tells me, sometimes she doesn’t...this time she didn’t. Just make something up. It’s no big deal if you don’t get it. You’re a producer on like two other shows,” he said.

“I don’t even know what a producer does,” you said, popping your head up. “You must know! You’re an actor!”

“I’m a hunter, not an actor,” scoffed Dean.

“Really. What’s the last time you went hunting?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“...Shut up,” he said. “And they just sort of...do everything. Y/N likes the story, writing, editing part of it.”

“I could quit. You got to be like, loaded with money,” you said.

“I could have quit too and then ruined Jensen’s life when he gets back home. No career, alienate him from his friends and family...trust me, there was an easy way to all this but I wasn’t doing that to him. You wouldn’t have wanted me to and it wasn’t right,” he said. You sighed and nodded, looking around. “You can do it. You literally kept an actor alive on hunts and stuff. You got this.”

“This world is strange,” you said after a moment. “These people don’t know how lucky they are.”

“Maybe not but I know I got you back. I’ll take the little bit of luck I can get,” he said.

“Me too,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Let’s go sleep in that comfy ass king sized bed. Get you rested up for the morning.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed as you stirred awake. He was pressed up close to you, kissing the back of your shoulder.

You instantly sat up with the sheets to your chest. You turned and looked down, a shirtless Dean in bed beside you. Your bed in the bunker.

“De?” you asked. He groaned and shut his eyes, throwing his hands over his face before he stole your pillow and shouted into it. “Jensen?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, moving the pillow away. “She’s gone again, isn’t she.”

“Sorry bud,” you said, very aware that you were naked save for the sheets around you. “Jensen…”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll throw on some clothes and get out of here,” he mumbled. You sighed and shut your eyes, waiting until the door shut before you got out of bed. You found some clothes on the floor, smiling a little, before you went to the closet and started to dress.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard something smash in the kitchen. You rushed inside, Jensen picking up a mug from the ground.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” you said.

“I almost wish she never came here,” he said with a laugh. “I’m losing my damn mind. You’re a TV show. You’re not real. Maybe I just went nuts and I’m finally realizing it.”

“Jensen,” you said, Jensen ignoring you and tossing the pieces in the trash, grabbing another mug. You winced and slapped him in the face, Jensen shaking his head out.

“Ow,” he said, glaring at you for a few seconds. “Sorry. I needed that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” you said. “What’d I tell you the first time?”

“Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy,” he said.

“Exactly. I’m having a shitty morning too,” you said.

“I know,” he said quietly, handing you the mug. “How was he? Y/N told me everything that’s been going on over there. She really likes him.”

“He was nice,” you said quietly. “Your house is beautiful.”

“Y/N said they did the renos we were planning on. I just wanted a big bed,” he said with a smile. “It’s funny how much you two look alike but so different. Like it’s so easy to spot the differences now.”

“You callin’ me the ugly twin, Ackles?” you said.

“Shut up, loser,” he said ruffling his hand over your head, getting your hair everywhere.

“Did you tell her you’re a little hunter now?” you asked.

“She wasn’t too thrilled about that. Told me I don’t do that anymore. I am to stay here and read books and that’s it,” he said.

“That’s what I tell you,” you said, heading for the coffee machine. “You really should listen to us.”

“There was that one time I totally did that salt and burn with you and nothing bad happened,” he said.

“It’s not just about bad stuff happening, Jensen. I don’t want you to do those things because I want you to be normal,” you said, sighing as you grabbed the pot. “How many times are we going to have this fight? I’m sick of it.”

“I promised I’d do what you guys tell me to from now on,” he said. “No more going on hunts unless you let me.”

“She sounds like a smart woman,” you said, filling up the pot. “Besides, you got a whole lot of research to keep up with now.”

“I don’t follow,” he said.

“Something happened and then it happened again. We are going through every single thing we can think of until we figure this out.”

“Jensen. Dude,” you said. “I do not need to know the intimate details of...that.”

“You told me to be specific,” he said crossing his arms.

“To think you were once shy around me,” you said, rolling your eyes. You scanned through your list and his, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Once again you had nothing.

“Sam can take a look when he gets back,” sighed Jensen. “It’s got to be there and we just don’t see it.”

“Can’t see it…” you said. “It happened to all of us when we were asleep and Y/N and I swapped back when we were asleep.”

“We have looked at dream root and djin lore and sleeping spells a thousand times,” said Jensen.

“I know. But I’m curious...what’s different from us girls than you guys? We switched but came back after what, a few days? What happened?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I fell asleep in my bed and woke up here and I don’t have a clue why. Stop asking,” said Jensen. He stood up and stormed towards the hall. “I’m going out. Give me some space today.”

You frowned as he took off, the sound of Baby’s engine echoing from the garage a few minutes later. He didn’t snap like that, not really, at least not anymore.

You sighed as you headed for the archives again, hoping you could figure something out.

“Y/N!” said Jensen, shaking you awake from where you were sleeping at the table late that night. “Wake up! I think I know what happened!”

You groaned as you sat up, nearly gagging when you got a whiff of him.

“You smell like a bar. Please tell me you didn’t drive,” you said.

“Got a cab but listen! Listen!” he said excitedly.

“Okay,” you said with a smile, standing up and grabbing his arm. “I thought I told you not to get shit faced like that without someone around to watch your back.”

“I might kind of be tilty right now but I know why I’m here and he’s there,” he said, bopping you on the nose.

“Alright hot shot. Hit me with it,” you said.

“Maybe I’m really Dean and you’re really Y/N and we just don’t know it,” he said, so matter of fact it you smiled.

“I bet that’s it Jensen,” you said, steadying him as you guided him back down the hall. “I bet you should go to sleep to test it out.”

“That’s an amazing idea!” he said. You laughed as you walked him back towards your room and plopped him down on the bed.

You got his jacket and boots off okay, Jensen only needing to be told twice to take off his jeans. He grumbled and rolled into a tight little ball on his side, snoring lightly in under a minute.

“Alright, Jensen. Sleep this one off buddy.”

You woke up sweltering, jammed up against someone. Someone small…

“Uh…” said the other person, her eyes wide as you sat up, looking around the nice apartment.

“Other Y/N?” you said.

“I think you’re other Y/N,” she said.

You almost rolled your eyes when you felt something behind you suddenly, other Y/N turning around quickly too. You saw a very confused looking Dean or Jensen sitting up, his eyes wide when you spun around and saw him again.

“I think drunk me was onto something,” said Jensen behind you. You tossed back the covers and swapped places with yourself, Dean already pulling you into a big hug.

“Long time no see,” teased Dean, kissing you gently.

“You taste like the bottom of a bar,” said other Y/N, laughing when she pulled away from him, Dean frowning when you moved back.

“What happened?” you said, Y/N’s head whipping around the same time as yours.

“This is just a little bit creepy,” said Dean.

“Ya think?” said Jensen. You stared at her, Y/N doing the same, her head tilting at you.

“Do you have a scar that looks like an x on your butt?” she asked out of the blue.

“How do you know that? I got that like a month ago...nobody would know that but me,” you said.

“I had a dream a few weeks ago,” she said.

“Did you wear a blue dress last week?” you asked.

“Yeah!” she said. “With the-“

“White lace on the-“

“End,” she said. “How do you know that?”

“I had a dream about it too,” you said.

“Okay,” said Dean, getting out bed. “Now I think we’re finally getting somewhere.”

“You did what!” said Jensen, holding up a picture of Dean in front of a microphone. “I don’t sing in front of other people!”

“It was one of those con things. It was fun. Y/N got a kick out of it. You’re too shy, dude. Lighten up. Be a show off,” said Dean.

“He killed a werewolf last week,” you said. “And you’re afraid of string beans.”

“I’m not afraid,” said Dean. “I do not like them.”

“Sure you do,” you teased.

“Dean, you were way nervous to do that,” said other Y/N before staring at Jensen. “Werewolf?”

“I read werewolf lore?” winced Jensen.

“He snuck along. How you kept him alive up to this point, I have no idea,” you said.

“Have you met yours? Tried to make a homemade flamethrower once,” she said.

“Why?” you asked Dean.

“Thought it’d be fun,” he said with a shrug.

“You totally did it though, right,” said Jensen, smiling at Dean.

“Of course,” he said.

“Boys,” you mumbled.

“So...I did some thinking,” said Dean. You took a seat on the couch beside the other Y/N, Jensen sitting on the end. “It never made much sense but it’s actually something Y/N’s dad said to me once.”

“I don’t have…” you said, Dean smiling and looking at the other you. “Her dad.”

“He said something, I think last Christmas, about family or along those lines. But he said something about kids. Multiple kids. But you’re an only child,” said Dean.

“Yeah…” said the other Y/N.

“I’m not so sure now,” said Dean. “I mean...think about it.”

“Well let’s dig into the hospital records,” said Jensen, grabbing the laptop from the coffee table and flipping it open.

“Jensen, you can’t just get…” trailed off the other Y/N, watching Jensen type away. “That’s...impressive.”

“I can get us free Netflix too,” he said with a smile, typing a few more things. “Alright, birth records...County Clark...Y/L/N, Y/L/N...where is…”

“Did you find it?” asked Dean walking around behind the couch, Jensen glancing over at the two of you girls. “Well…”

“One of you is Y/N,” said Jensen with a hard swallow. “One of you…”

“One of you is an unnamed missing person,” said Dean.

“Wait,” said other Y/N, holding up her hands. “What-”

“We’re twins,” you said. “I’m from this universe.”

“Yeah, looks like you are,” said Dean quietly.

“My parents never told me,” said other Y/N, closing her eyes. “How is any of this even possible?”

“A rift?” you asked Dean. “Maybe someone on our side opened one, came here, took me back with them?”

“Yeah but you were found…” said Dean, running his hands over his face. “Bobby thought that witch killed your parents and took you.”

“I think she just took me,” you said, lifting your head. “Wait, I have parents?”

“I’m still stuck on the fact I have a sister,” said the other you. “But how did we...the dreams and swapping...none of it makes sense.”

“No it doesn’t but we’ll figure it out,” said Jensen. “I promise.”

“You know, I have to compliment you on your taste in men,” said your sister. You laughed, the guys lifting their heads up from the living room where they worked but you waved them off. “That’s freaky...how we ended up with our own universes version of that guy.”

“You got this your universe guy. I don’t even know where the hell I belong,” you said.

“Take it from someone who’s spent the last four years with Dean. He loves you more than you’ll ever know,” she said.

“Ditto,” you said, giving her a smile.

“No really,” she said, sliding on top of the counter. “He’s...there’s a lot of hurt in that boy. He gets nightmares a lot. We slept in separate rooms at first but he just…”

“I get it. Jensen and I did the same thing. I get nightmares, he does...it was always platonic,” you said. “It was just this unspoken thing.”

“Go to bed and hope one you wake up and it’s all better? Yeah, we did that too,” she said.

“Can I ask you a question?” you said. She nodded, swinging her legs off the edge. “I can understand why Jensen believed us. We’re used to weird stuff and after he freaked out, he understood. But how did you ever believe that when Dean said he was Dean…”

“Are you asking how on earth I could possibly believe that the man that looked exactly like my husband wasn’t?” she said. “He just felt...off. I almost called someone on him, I did. But he sat down with me on that couch over there and he was confused and scared and I knew it wasn’t Jensen. I don’t know how but I did. I don’t know, it’s like our weird dream thing.”

“What are our parents like? Jensen told me all about you but never said much about them,” you said softly.

“They’re nice. Dad was an accountant. He retired last year. Mom was a realtor, still does it occasionally for fun. She helped Jay and I find a house in Texas,” she said. “Jensen lived in that house two weeks before he was gone.”

“So he’s never seen that gorgeous home?” you asked.

“It looks so different now,” she said. “I should have waited.”

“I think he’ll like it. I can tell Dean had a little input,” you said.

“I can’t believe they never told me,” she said.

“Maybe we ask,” you said. “This thing isn’t over yet.”

“You grew up horribly from the way Dean tells it and I-“

“Don’t,” you said, taking a seat beside her. “Yeah, I didn’t get stuff I wanted. But I got a guy I love. I got a family, even if it’s weird. I help people. I get to ride around in a cool old car and I occasionally get to set stuff on fire. My life ain’t all that bad.”

“So you’re like an optimist,” she said.

“Oh not at all. But in comparison to Dean I might seem like it,” you said. “I’m just saying, not everything was bad.”

“Plus you save the world,” she said.

“Sometimes,” you said. You sighed and she gave you a smile.

“I bet I’m the older one,” she said.

“I am so not the little sister,” you said.

“Eh, I bet you are,” she said.

“I bet I’m Y/N and you’re the unnamed one,” you said.

“No way. I’m Y/N. You were the missing one after all,” she said.

“I’m-“

“Two hours and they’re already bickering like sisters,” teased Jensen as he stood up from the couch. “Y/N, why don’t we call your parents and get a little bit more info from them. Dean and I agree it’s weird that they never told you. They aren’t those kinds of people.”

“I think this is an in person conversation,” she said. “Which means we have to wait until Friday to go home.”

“How about these guys head back to our house, we stay up here and head back down when we can?” said Jensen.

“What if we switch again?” you said.

“Then we deal with it. Let’s get through the next couple of days, alright?”

“Hi,” you said, opening the front door with a smile when Jensen and Y/N got in from their flight a few days later. “So we had a slight issue today.”

“Slight issue how…” said Jensen.

“Jared kind of freaked out on us. He’s hanging out in the bathroom,” said Dean, nodding towards down the hall.

“Dean may have locked Jared inside when he came over unannounced and caught part of a conversation he shouldn’t have,” you said.

“For the love of…” said Jensen, ditching his bags and going to the bathroom door. “Buddy? You okay in there?”

“Jensen let me out right now. You guys are sick or somebody slipped you something or…” he trailed off, Jensen ripping open the door, waving to the room. “There’s two...and two…”

“Hey buddy,” said Jensen, giving his friend a big hug. “Long time no see. I missed you on set.”

“I saw you Monday and...and what is going on?” said Jared.

“Jensen,” said Jensen, pointing at himself. “Y/N, that’s my Y/N, the one you know, other Y/N, originally from this universe, twin to Y/N but likely stolen as a baby by a witch and taken to another universe where she hunts with Dean, from that other universe and not my twin. Oh and Dean’s been pretending to be me for the last four years while he’s been stuck in this universe,” said Jensen.

“...Gas leak. That’s what this is. There’s a gas leak somewhere and this is all in my-“

The doorbell rang and Jensen grabbed Jared, pushing him back in the bathroom.

“Just hang out in there,” said Jensen, quickly pulling the door shut on him. “Great.”

The doorbell rang again and Jensen waved you and Dean away, the both of you ducking down the hall. The door opened a few seconds later, a deep voice entering the room.

“Sorry, sweetie. Mom got hung up at an open house. What was so urgent?” you heard someone say. You poked your head around the corner, catching sight of a man around Jensen’s height, his hair a dark gray that suited him.

“I found my sister you declined to tell me about for starters,” said the other Y/N. The man stared at you, stepping closer as you came around the corner, Dean following you making him pause for only a second.

“You’re here,” he said quietly.

“I guess I am,” you said.

“You look just like your big sister,” he said. “You both do your hair the same too.”

“Told you I was big sister,” mumbled the other Y/N with a smirk.

“You need to tell the four of us exactly what’s going on. Now.”

“Hey,” you said, sipping on a beer with Jared on the back porch. “Sorry about...everything.”

“Yeah, I’m a little pissed but my first reaction was he’s gone insane and so have you so probably a good idea they kept me on the dark,” he said. “So...munchers got a sister.”

“Apparently a whole family,” you said. “I can’t believe my dad isn’t from here.”

“I sort of can. Hell of an ex girlfriend he had there. Who travels to another universe to steal a baby and proceed to curse that baby anyways?” he said.

“Well she’s dead,” you said. “Ripping me away from my family wasn’t enough. She had to hurt me too.”

“Love curse right? That’s why the guys got swapped and when you gave up, it went back and then it was back and forth until the spell wore itself out,” he said.

“Yeah which is great that it won’t happen anymore but Dean and I are stuck here now,” you said.

“The witch got back. I’m sure you guys can too,” he said.

“Maybe,” you said, looking over your shoulder, Dean coming outside. You turned away, shrugging him off when he tried to put an arm around you.

“Hey. This isn’t your fault,” he said.

“You lost four years of your life because you had the bad luck of having me fall in love with you,” you said. He grabbed your waist and spun you around, keeping you close when you went to move away.

“So?” he said with a big goofy smile. “I’d lose all of them for you. What’s four? We still got all the time in the world.”

“You should probably listen to Dean,” said Jared. “Makes a good point.”

“I’m not the asshole liar anymore?” asked Dean.

“...you were there for me on bad nights. That wasn’t pretending. You’re my friend, even if you are an asshole,” he said.

“I’ll take that,” said Dean, resting his forehead on yours. “Let’s take the rest of the night to enjoy the fact you’re with your family. We’ll figure out going home tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, finding his hand and lacing your fingers together. “I’m okay with that.”

Two Months Later

“Mmm, that smells good,” you said as you and your sister got home from the store. You’d been staying in their guest room for a while now, Dean and you diligently working everyday on a way home...but not so diligently that you weren’t getting in some family time when you could.

“I think the boys made us dinner,” she said. You set down your bags and walked around the corner, the both of them in the kitchen, a pie sitting on top of the counter. “Mmm, pie.”

“Well we thought we’d celebrate,” said Dean, glancing at Jensen.

“We figured it out after giving your dad another call today,” he said. “It’s actually incredibly simple.”

“How-”

“We both popped over and said hey to Sam before coming back to test it out. You won’t have to choose, sweetheart. We can visit anytime we want,” said Dean with a smile.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s how the witch came to this world with your dad and left it with you. Two people have to go at the same time. It’s the only rule,” said Dean.

“So we could always-”

“Not always. That spell had to fizzle out first but now, yeah, we can come and go as we want,” said Dean.

“That’s awesome! I didn’t know how to say it without sounding completely selfish but I didn’t want you guys to go away,” said your sister.

“You weren’t the only one,” you said, getting a hug from her.

“They really are adorable,” said Jensen.

“Yes they are,” said Dean. “Alright, now who’s hungry for dinner?”

“It’s that simple?” you asked, standing in your room in the bunker, Dean smiling as you gave him a hug. “We’re home again.”

“Even if you aren’t from here?” he asked.

“I grew up here, this is my home,” you said, resting your head against him. “I know you’re back now and everything but can we take a break from hunting for a while? Just to hang out again? No lore or research, just us?”

“Sounds like a pretty good idea,” he said. He gave you a chaste kiss, bumping his nose against yours. “Sounds like a perfect idea, sweetheart.”

[idkman-ijustwannamakeatournament]

Beginning the loser's bracket round 1 tomorrow!

(rounds under the cut)

Qibli and Darkstalker v Quatre and Relena

Yuno and Asta v Bojack Horseman and Diane Nguyen

Rick Grimes and Negan v Ryuunosuke Akutagawa and Atsushi Nakajima

Original Shen Qingqiu (Shen Jiu) and Original Luo Binghe (Bingge) v Cody 'Night Angel' Walsh and Ricky Matsui

Edelgard von Hresvelg and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd v Godzilla and Kiryu (AKA MechaGodzilla)

President Coriolanus Snow and President Alma Coin v Lin Paraeah and Terra Pierce

Emma Alonso and Maddie Van Pelt v Fujiwara no Mokou and Houraisan Kaguya

Chikage Utsuki and Hisoka Mikage v Batman and Joker

Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu v Josuke Higashikata and Yoshikage Kira

Dean Winchester and Bella Talbot v Wilhelmina Pang and Hwei-Lan Gao

Loki Laufeyson and Mobius v The 15th Doctor and Ruby Sunday

Galadriel "El" Higgins and Orion Lake v Uzi Doorman and Tessa James Elliot

Dawn/The Liberator and Tsuki/The Worldkeeper v Sara and Night Swan

Miles Edgeworth and Eustace Winner/Sebastian DeBeste v Chuuya Nakahara and Osamu Dazai

Red and Blue v Po and Shen

Zhu Yuanzhang and (General) Ouyang v Nico Robin and Trafalgar Law

[mummybear]

RolePlay May Masterlist

Day 1 - The Pool Guy - Dean Winchester

Summary: When you go to visit your parents for a few weeks you’re met with a blast from the past, your best friends big brother is your parents pool guy. A brother that you used to have the biggest crush on when you were younger, what’s the worst that can happen when you watch him work?

Day 2 - Yes Miss - Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky jock in school, who winds all of the teachers up to breaking point. However, he doesn’t have quite the same effect on the teaching assistant who takes over for the day. She make sure she shows him just how much of a good boy he can be.

Day 3 - Sleeping With The Enemy - Damon Salvatore

Summary: The reader is new hunter in Mystic Falls, tasked with catching what she believes is the big bad in town. The one and only Damon Salvatore. However what happens when you realise you’re mistaken and it’s in fact someone else? And things between you and Damon become very heated in the Mystic Grill. 

Day 4 - The Babysitter - Jensen Ackles

Summary: Being the babysitter for the Ackles family had been nothing but a pleasure, but when Jensen comes home from work in a bad mood the reader finds out just how much her boss loves her short skirts and despises her ex boyfriend showing up at his house.

Day 5 - Getting Into Trouble - Dean Winchester

Summary: Meeting your best friend Marie at your local nightclub turns out to be a more exciting night that you had originally planned. Especially when your favourite doorman is on duty and doesn’t take his eyes off of you all night.

Day 6 - Bad Neighbour - Stiles Stilinski 

Summary: When your best friend looses everything and becomes the local bad boy in town, the guy known as the fuck boy. Can you bring him back from the edge when his cheating ex Lydia invites him to a party? He needs someone to help him, will it be you? Or will your feelings for him get in the way, he believes your the only one who can’t be hurt by him, but he doesn’t know about your feelings, so what happens when someone tells him for you?

Day 7 - Day off

Day 8 - The Interrogation - Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam and Dean set about teaching you how to handle an interrogation if things go sideways on a hunt. Things take a real turn once Sam leaves the room, after you get fed up with the incessant questions. Dean takes his bad cop roll a little too seriously, which is by far the best thing to ease the growing tension between yourself and the older Winchester and he’s in no mood for taking it slow and easy.

Day 9 - Just Let Go - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Stiles is pulling away from the pack a little and falling behind on school work, so Michelle agrees to help him with the studying for their econ exam. However, it turns out that all the studying in the world isn’t enough to help him. Michelle quickly discovers that Stiles is hiding more than he first let on to anyone else and she helps him find release.

Day 10 - Dinner With Friends - Damon Salvatore

Summary: Summary: When Caroline and Stefan decide to throw a getting to know you party for the reader, she and Damon are forced to cooperate. But with their secret relationship going on in the back ground, will Damon be able to keep his jealous tendencies at bay, will the two of them be able to stop their wandering hands.

Day 11 - Private Party With A Rockstar - Jensen Ackles

Summary: Jensen is a Rockstar on the rise and with the help of his best friends he’s getting closer than ever. But when certain feelings are brought to light by the Padalecki’s once again, can Jensen keep ignoring them? With a big hotel party he’s about to find out.

Day 12 - The Sinners - Dean Winchester

Summary:The Winchesters and the reader are called to investigate murders at a church, but when Sam solves the case before Dean and the reader leave. What will they do? Now that they finally have a little alone time, will they take advantage of the situation?

Day 13 - What Are You Doing Here? - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: You’re staying at your aunts place in Beacon Hills, after finishing your training program where you’d met the best guy ever. So when your best friend Allison turns up at your aunts house and invites you to a party you reluctantly agree to go. Only to find out that there was more waiting at that party than you first realised.

Day 14 - Day Off

Day 15 - The Mechanic - Dean Winchester

Summary: When your car breaks down you call the only mechanic you trust, but what will happen when the old man is away. Will you trust the man on the phone to help you?

Day 16 - Cowboys And Kisses - Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean and Sam leave you at the bunker when they go out on a hunt, they’re gone for so much longer than anyone expected, on one of the last calls with Dean what he was wearing had really struck a chord within you. With something that you were trying your hardest to keep hidden. So what happens when they come home?

Day 17 - Talk Dirty To Me - Damon Salvatore

Summary: Damon being gone is harder than you remember, especially when he and Stefan are gone for two weeks and still not back. Can you keep yourself busy enough not to break the one rule that you and Damon have together.

Day 18 - Strip Club Bait - Dean Winchester

Summary: You and Sam come up with a plan to complete a hunt, which Dean heavily disapproves of. What will happen when you ask Dean for some advice and help for the hunt? What will it be?

Day 19 - My Only Alpha - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Stiles and Scott are the Alpha’s of your pack, one night when a new and dangerous pack is planning to take the unmated Omega’s. Scott and Stiles are forced to make a plan to keep the Omega’s safe. A plan which ends with you being trapped with an Alpha in rut, how will things go?

Day 20 - Teach You A Lesson - Dean Winchester

Summary: Detention with hot substitute teacher, Mr Winchester, sees him trying to teach you a lesson.

Day 21 - Day Off

Day 22 - Need You Tonight - Dean Winchester

Summary: You’re really missing Dean while he’s away hunting with Sam, so you give him a call and let him know just how much you’re missing him.

Day 23 - Demon From My Nightmares - Demon Dean Winchester

Summary: When your dreams of your mysterious green eyed man prove not only to be your thoughts what will you discover?

Day 24 - Baited Wolf Trap - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Stiles and reader are forced to work together when a wolf pack is threatening the safety of the humans of Beacon Hills, but confessions are revealed and things are said. How will things change between them.

Day 25 - Cursed To Distraction - Dean Winchester

Summary: When a bartender hits on you in what you think is attempt to make Dean jealous, what happens when not everything is quite as it seems?

[sambukasam]

Babe, Can I Call?

Summary: Typically, the client calls the escort. But when Dean goes into rut a month early and thinks you caused it, he calls you to help him “take care of it”. 

Kink Bingo Square Filled: Rut

AU Bingo Square Filled: Escort!Dean

ABO Bingo Square Filled: Rut

Genre Bingo Square Filled: Late Night Call

Good Things Happen Bingo Square Filled: Reunited

Pairing: Alpha!Escort!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: ABO, smut, rut sex, knotting

Word Count: 2912

A/N: the title is taken from a song by the hunna but the song doesn’t really apply to the fic

Created for @spnkinkbingo and @spngenrebingo and @spnaubingo and @spnabobingo  and @goodthingshappenbingo

Kink Bingo Masterlist ↔︎ Genre Bingo Masterlist ↔︎ AU Bingo Masterlist ↔︎ ABO Bingo Masterlist ↔︎ Good Things Happen Bingo Masterlist ↔︎ Normal Masterlist 

feedback is always appreciated

“Y/N?”

You frowned at the hoarse voice coming from your phone. It was nearing midnight and you were in your pyjamas with a hot drink and a bowl of cereal, just about to hop into bed. Who the hell would call you at this time? You didn’t have the number saved, but the voice sounded familiar.

“Y/N? Shit is this the wrong number-” the voice clicked in your mind, and before he could hang up you were talking to him.

“Dean?” You didn’t have a last name to go off, but you were pretty sure the first name he gave you was real.

“Oh thank God.”

“Are you alright? You sound kinda sick or something,” you frowned, your cereal growing soggier as your concern for him became your main priority.

You and Dean had a purely business relationship, and he never initiated contact. Hell, you never even had his personal phone number! There had to be a serious reason as to why he was calling you, you just couldn’t think of it.

“Uh, yeah, ‘bout that. I’m in rut.”

Deciding that it wasn’t dire, you shovelled another spoonful into your mouth before answering. “Is that related to why you’re calling me?”

“That’s kinda the whole reason why I’m calling you.” Blink. A splash of milk landed on your arm. When you didn’t reply straight away, he kept going, “my rut isn’t due for another month. I think… I think that you caused it.”

“And how the hell did I manage to do that if I haven’t seen you in two months?”

Ah yes, the dry spell. Well, that’s what you liked to call it. You decided that it was probably time for you to stop calling Dean up every time your social group had a function, and it had unintentionally lasted three weeks. Then you decided that you couldn’t call him because you had left it too long. You figured that he probably had way more clients now and wouldn’t even be able to find time for you, which led you to now, three months later.

He grunted, and you were reminded of how serious the situation was. If you had managed to force his rut on him rather than it occurring naturally, that meant that only you could get him out of it. And time is of the essence when it comes to forced ruts because they tend to play with Alpha’s heads. If Dean was left long enough he could even go feral, and a feral Alpha was a lost cause.

“Look, I accidentally stole a pair of your panties.”

You sputtered indignantly, is that what happened to your favourite pair? The ones that you only got to wear a grand total of three times before they vanished?

“I shoved them in my pocket the last time we... hooked up. It was at that fancy ball thing your friend was hosting, and I wanted to keep them up off the floor so that no one would see them. I forgot all about them, to be honest, I haven’t even gotten around to washing my pants from that night yet.”

“Gross,” you interjected. It had been at least three months since that day.

“Well, it is what it is. I found them a few hours ago, and your scent… It’s so strong on them, holy fuck, and I never noticed it before, but I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelt in my whole damn life. And I don’t know if my body is just tense from not seeing you in so long, but…. I sort of just snapped, and now I’m starting to go into rut, and I feel like a pervert because I can’t focus on anything but the damn smell of those panties.”

“Dean, I’ll come over if you need me to. But are you 100 per cent certain that it’s my panties you're smelling? Like, are you positive that I’m the one who put you into it? Surely you have a ton of other clients who could have done it.”

“Y/N, I haven’t seen any other clients in almost a year. I deleted my profile on the website and everything. And besides, I've never slept with any client other than you." A smug smile spread across your face as you heard that last sentence, suck it insecurities! Dean Winchester didn't get a ton of other clients and move on! "But anyway, you were the only client I’ve kept seeing since then. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you on a real date ever since I deleted my profile but it never seemed like something you would have been into. And then you stopped contacting me, so I assumed you met someone and moved on past me. Wait, shit, you aren’t seeing someone, are you?”

You blinked at the wall, trying to process everything that he had just said to you. He was into you? Were you the reason he shut his profile down, or were you being narcissistic and really he was just getting sick of it? But if that was the truth, he wouldn't have kept seeing you afterwards.

You weren’t gonna lie, you did get butterflies around him, but you thought that was just because he was so good at his job. I mean, he was paid a ridiculous amount of money to give you a good time. You always just assumed that he was giving you your money's worth, never that there was actual intent behind his actions. A smile was spreading across your face and you resisted the urge to giddily squeak, but then Dean was groaning down the phone again and you remembered the urgency of the situation.

“I’m single,” you managed to blurt out. “Text me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hung up the phone to text you before you could grill him any further on his feelings for you, but it wasn't like you could blame him. When you went into heat, it was always the only thing you could focus on. You had never called Dean when you went into it though, always settling for taking some meds and willing yourself through the worst of it. To feel needed by someone like Dean, who was considered such good company that he was literally paid to spend time with people, was amazing.

You grabbed the first bag you could find, which happened to be an old book bag from high school. You threw a few bottles of water and snacks into it in case Dean was running low on them and got going.

You pulled up outside his apartment block fifteen minutes later, taking a second to marvel at how upscale the building was. Escorting obviously gave him a decent wage.  That thought made you think about how weird the whole situation was. You didn't even know the man's surname but here you were speeding across the city to help him.

The doorman was waiting for you and led you to the elevator, telling you to send Dean his regards. If he had any questions about why you were showing up in your pyjamas with a school bag, he didn't ask them.

Dean told you that his apartment was 32B, but he really didn’t have to specify, you could smell him the second you stepped out of the elevator. Following your nose rather than the numbers on the doors, you knocked quickly against his door before you could hear him shout that it was open.

If you thought that his scent had been strong in the hall, it was a completely different story once his door swung open. You could have dropped to your knees right then and there if you hadn’t of known how much he needed you at that moment.

“Dean? You good buddy? I brought some water and some snacks to stock you up for a few days in case you run low, I don’t know how long your ruts last for…” You trailed off, eyeing how fancy the entryway to his apartment was.

“Bring it with you, I’m on the third door on the right.”

When you got to the threshold of the room he was in, you were greeted by the beautiful sight of him sweaty and in just his underwear, a sight you hadn’t realised just how much you had missed until that moment.

“Thank God,” he sighed, relief on his face. You opened the bag and threw a bottle of water at him and he smiled gratefully, twisting the cap off before chugging the whole thing.  

His room was boyish. It was considerably less fancy than the rest of his apartment that you had seen, and it really gave you an insight into the man behind the penis. There was a collection of guitars hung up along the wall and shelves full of DVDs and CDs, and a poster for All Saint's Day hung slightly crooked on his closet. Your panties were crumpled up into a ball on the bed beside where Dean was propped up, and you were both relieved and annoyed that they were your good pair that went missing. All in all, his room felt like a homely mancave.

“You good?” You decided to ask him.

“I haven’t gone fully into it yet, but… Since you opened the door, your scent is super strong and it's speeding things up.”

He looked like he was struggling to remain coherent and you took pity on him. “What do you need me to do?”

“Getting naked would be a great place to start,” he joked with a grin, but you nodded and went along with it.

You tugged your shirt over your head, not even trying to hide your smirk at his reaction to seeing your boobs. You weren't wearing a bra because you were just about to go to sleep, and you didn't bother putting one on before you ran out.

“Holy shit I didn’t think it was possible for my dick to get any harder right now,” he cursed, dropping a hand to palm himself. Your eyes followed his movement and you allowed yourself to notice just how hard he was for the first time since you’d stepped into the room. His cock was clearly outlined through his briefs, and if your eyesight was any clearer you would probably be able to see him throb.

“Please Y/N, I need something, literally anything, it just hurts really bad and-”

You interrupted him by crawling over the bed to him, planting your arms on his shoulders and pushing him onto his back. The bed reeked of Alpha arousal, and you felt like if the scent got any stronger it would trigger your own heat. To distract both of you, you kissed him firmly.

Though you had spent months without each other, the kiss was perfect, as if you had never lost any time. Dean kissed you with a needy eagerness as his hands reached for your hips, pulling you down to grind against him. He was hard as a rock, and you gasped into his mouth as he bumped against your clit.

“You should take these damn pants off before I do it myself. And if I do it, they’ll get shredded,” Dean practically growled when he pulled back from the kiss. His lips were even poutier than normal, flushing a deep red that almost matched the heat in his cheeks.

You figured it was probably smart to listen to him because you were wearing your comfiest pair. Hopping off of him and the bed, you shoved them down your legs quickly, leaving you in your ratty but comfortable underwear. He barely seemed to notice that, however, although a small smirk appeared when he saw the holes in your boy shorts.

“Easy access?”

“More like my washing machine has no respect for anything cotton.”

“Get back over here,” he whined, patting his lap. You rolled your eyes at how he changed the subject so subtly.

You straddled him again and leaned in for a kiss but he dodged your lips completely, leaning down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. “Shit, Dean!” You whimpered in surprise at the unexpected gesture.

“I have missed you both so much,” he groaned, looking right at your boobs as he said it.

You laughed at how immature he was, it was refreshing to see that he hadn’t changed much while you were apart. To distract him you rolled your hips down, grinding onto his dick and making his breath catch.

This caused something to snap inside of him as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, leaving you to lie on your back with him in between your legs. The ever growing wet spot in your panties was pressed right against his bulged, only separated by your underwear.

“Stop teasing me, Omega,” he commanded, and shivers went down your spine at the unfamiliar tone he was using with you. He had never broken out his ‘Alpha voice’ when you two had had sex before, usually keeping it light with his playful antics. Now you felt like you were having sex with him for the first time all over again as he stared at you with a newfound intensity you had never seen in anyone before, let alone from him.

“Make me,” you urged him, gasping when he reached down and ripped your underwear clean off.

“Trust me, I was planning on it.”

He looked like he wanted to keep talking after that but he paused as your scent filled the room, uncovered. It seemed that your own heat definitely would be coming soon as your scent grew stronger almost as if to challenge Dean’s.

“Omega,” he growled, and it was then that you knew he was fully under. There was no more laughing and joking, as he now had one thing on his mind - to knot you.

“Alpha,” you submitted, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull yourself closer to him. His eyes darkened, blown wide with lust as he rutted against you, putting a hand down to guide himself into your pussy. “Oh my God.”

He stretched your walls out almost painfully, and you could feel the beginning of his knot press against your ass once he bottomed out. He had never knotted you before, something that had you both nervous but excited.

“Fuck, ‘mega,” he grunted, dropping his forehead to rest against your shoulder as he glanced down to where the two of you were connected. “So tight. Feels like you were made to take my knot.”

He drew his hips back and slammed forward, sending you inches up the bed. He grabbed your shoulders to keep you in place before setting up a punishing rhythm. It felt like he was trying to make you feel this for months afterwards, which you didn’t doubt would happen.

His breath was brushing against your sensitive mating gland on your neck, and you half wished he would just reach down and bite onto it, to make you his Omega.

The room filled with the wet sound of him entering you and the combination of your desperate moans as the two of you tried to stay as close to each other as possible the whole time.

His knot was almost ready now, big and insistent with every thrust of his hips. “Please, Dean, Alpha, need you to knot me,” you begged, arching your back to raise your hips and give him a better angle. "I want to come on your knot."

"Jesus Christ," he groaned, his thrusts growing uneven. He reached a hand down to rub your clit, making you unintentionally clench harder around him. He was growing close, you could tell by the way his thrusts lost their rhythm as he focused more on force rather than pace.

With each slam of his hips his knot rubbed against you, pushing and pushing until finally, it popped and tied the two of you together.

"Fuck Dean!" You cried, the sudden stretch in your pussy being that last push you needed to send you over the edge. You came around him, milking his cock as he filled you with his cum. He kept rubbing your clit the whole time you came until finally you caved into your sensitivity and had to push his hand away.

Once the two of you were finished, you got comfortable lying on your side facing each other. You kept one leg propped up around his waist and he had a hand on your thigh, squeezing it softly as he smiled down at you. His rut was calming down for a while, you could tell as his cheeks returned to their normal colour.

"I missed you," he admitted quietly, looking at where his hand was on you rather than into your eyes.

"Was it true? When you said that you've never slept with another client?"

He nodded and looked back up at you. "It was. And so was what I said about wanting to ask you out on a date. And now it's my turn to ask a question. Would you like to go on a date with me when this is all over?"

You grinned at his words, glad to hear that they were true. "Of course I would, Dean. But only if I get to ask one more question."

"Anything."

"What the hell is your last name?"

TAGS:

-

Want to be tagged?

Everything:

@blackolivejuice / @heyitscam99

Dean:

@akshi8278

[thoughtslikeaminefield]

PLEASE HEED WARNINGS

Summary: Michael takes some time to remind Dean who’s in control.

Pairing: Michael/Dean x anonymous female character

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, edge play, bondage, knife play, blood play, breath play, breast play, choking, rough sex, anal sex, name-calling, Daddy kink, minor character death

Words: 2,200

Michael knows what lurks in the recesses of Dean’s consciousness – what Dean dreams about, what makes him feel, the dark fantasies he refuses to acknowledge. Not that Michael deems what Dean feels or doesn’t feel to be of import, but what he’s gleaned from possessing the hunter is proving to come in handy.

“I have a surprise for you,” Michael says, adjusting and readjusting his black bowtie as he gazes into the borrowed eyes that stare back at him from the mirror. “I think you’re really going to like it.”

Michael lifts the mask from the vanity and inspects it carefully, picking invisible debris from its slick, red finish before deftly fitting it over Dean’s brow and ocular cavity, settling it against the high cheekbones. “There,” Michael says, admiring his current suit once again. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t expect or even desire Dean to answer, but he feels the hunter stir. Dean’s dreamed about this mask as well.

And Dean has questions. He always has questions, demands, but he’s mostly angry, full of rage. Michael likes that about Dean most of all.

Michael twists Dean’s lips into a cool smirk, smooths large, strong hands over the crisp fabric of the tuxedo jacket then slowly turns on the sharp, clean heel of the patent balmorals to walk out into the night.

He didn’t lie to Dean, not this time. He has a surprise for him and he looks forward to delivering it.

+++

“Good evening, sir,” the gentleman at the door greets Michael then drops his eyes and backs into the foyer to welcome him inside. “It is a pleasure.”

Michael nods, easing past the well-trained doorman. Once inside, he takes in his surroundings with approval. “Is everything prepared as we discussed?” Michael asks.

“Yes, sir,” the doorman replies. “If you will please follow me.”

He rounds Michael, leaving the space required from a human to a god and dutifully leads him down a wide, softly lit hallway. The journey is brief and uncomplicated until they arrive at a door to what Michael assumes is the corner suite he requested.

“Your suite, sir.” The man comes to a halt five feet from the entrance, folds his hands in front of himself, just below his waist and lowers his gaze. Michael closes in on the double doors then turns to observe his personal concierge.

“Thank you,” Michael says, observing the lines of the man’s suit, the shine on his shoes. “That will be all.”

The servant nods a final time without making eye contact then turns to leave Michael be.

The doorknobs are cut glass and iron, cool in Michael’s hands as he twists. He pushes the heavy walnut doors to open and enters to candlelight, a pleasantly familiar Bach melody, and a fully nude human female, blindfolded and kneeling in the center of the room. She’s frog tied with deep red, silk rope to match the plush velvet cushion beneath her.

Once Michael has secured the doors behind him, he slowly approaches her. “Good evening,” he says as he sets about testing the knots, the tension, and his subject’s positioning.

“Good evening, sir,” she replies softly, reverently.

Michael hums in appreciation, skimming a fingertip along the smooth rope where it’s pressed into pale flesh.  

He hadn’t asked for a type, per se, as much as the gentleman he spoke with had tried to narrow it down. He had only asked for a willing participant, the tools for the scene, and this particular setup. He had to admit, though, that this was an excellent choice. Her alabaster skin and auburn hair seemed to ignite something in his vessel that would most certainly lend to the gratification of this experience.

“Are you comfortable?” Michael asks, relishing the gooseflesh as it rises over the expanse of her body as a result of his touch. That is exactly the reaction he was hoping for – what Dean would hope for – but he didn’t expect it so soon.

She nods and sighs.

“So responsive,” he mutters in fascination. “Wonderful.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replies with that same worshipful tone.

Michael raises his gaze to her face, raises a hand to lightly cup her jaw. His thumb brushes her cheek, and she quietly gasps. He’s thrilled by how sensitive she is, how she fits every request.

“You’ve been given a safe word, correct?” Michael asks, dragging his hand around to rest the heel over her collarbone and gently wrap fingers and thumb around opposite sides of her throat.

She swallows slow and thick and nods. “Yes, sir.”

“And you know why you’re here,” he states instead of asks, letting his thumbing caress the smooth, taut skin over her throbbing pulse. “Know that I will do exactly as I wish when I wish it.”

She answers affirmatively, obediently once more, and Michael can’t help but smile. “Good,” he says, gently squeezing her throat in his hand before pulling away to survey the set of implements provided him to work with.

“I want you to feel free to vocalize your pleasure and pain,” Michael speaks as he walks the length of the waist-high sideboard inspecting the objects laid out for his approval and use. “Use your words and sounds to tell me how you feel.”

Michael stops to inspect a silver tray covered with white linen and an array of sharp objects. Covering the remaining expanse of the clean surface are vibrators, dildos, and a leather flogger among other things. He makes his first selection and turns to face her once again as the music switches.

“Beethoven’s Piano Sonata number fourteen in C-sharp minor,” he says as he circles his subject’s kneeling form. “Moonlight – apropos for tonight, don’t you think?”

He drags the blunt side of the blade across her bare shoulders as he crosses behind her, the cold steel against her warm skin making her shiver. “Yes, sir,” she whispers a shaky breath.

Michael flips the blade just enough to let her feel the sharp edge but not enough to cut as he comes to a stop in front of her, tracing the lines of the rope across her breastbone. “How much do you want to bleed tonight, my pet?” he asks, testing the term of endearment in Dean’s mouth. Michael doesn’t care for it one way or another, but he wants Dean to like it.

“You want to bleed for me, don’t you.” He doesn’t state this as a question because they both know she’s there to bleed for him – for Dean. She’s there to feel the pleasure and pain that Michael knows Dean dreams of inflicting on a woman just like her.

“Yes, sir,” she answers with a moan. When he presses the sharp edge of the blade against the swell of one breast, she gasps. “Please.”

He feels Dean stir again, feels a sense of excitement. “Begging,” Michael says as he breaks the skin then flips the knife to spread the trickle of blood around her areola with the blunt edge. “He likes begging.”

She groans and gently juts her breasts into Michael’s touch. “Yes, please, sir…”

Michael takes his time tracing every edge of rope all the way down her body, slowly crouching as he goes. He doesn’t draw more blood – not yet – just lets the knife rest between her open knees. Before choosing another tool, he pulls from Dean’s mind a desire that he hopes will further entice the hunter.

He cups both of her breasts in his hands, squeezes them, leaving behind white impressions of his thick fingers in the reddened flesh when he pulls away to pinch and twist her nipples roughly until she cries out.

“Oh, god,” she moans.

“That’s right, my dear,” he murmurs then slaps each full, abused breast hard with his bare hands. “And we’ve only just begun.”

“Fuck,” she whimpers.

Dean is becoming more aware by the moment of what he’s witnessing. Michael notes, however, that Dean wishes this is all to be a dream. He lets him think that it is as he stands and continues toward the sideboard for his next instrument.

He returns to stand over her, hefts the pistol grip of the flogger in his hands, letting the leather straps cut through the air between them. Michael feels Dean shift more certainly. If Dean could make a sound, it would be one of appreciation for the sight of this gorgeous creature on her knees for him, bleeding, begging, open and wanting.

“I want you to come as often as you want tonight, don’t forget,” Michael says, shuffling the toes of his shoes under the large floor cushion to get as close to her as he can. He drags the dangling leather along her thighs, making her quake and gasp, then up her torso, around her neck and back down. She thrusts her wet, exposed center against the straps, and Michael grins. “You want something. You want to fuck – to be fucked.”

She sighs on a moan as Michael slowly kneels in front of her, flips the flogger in his hand and guides the cold metal head between the spread open lips of her cunt to rub over her clit. “Yes,” she hisses and bucks against the implement, trying to get it inside.

Michael crudely cups a breast again, twists the nipple and roughly massages her clit with the metal head of the handle to the flogger. “Fuck yourself on my flogger,” he lets the words fall from his lips. “Like the whore you are.”

The words are as borrowed as the lips and tongue that form them. Michael loosens his grip on the reins of his vessel just a fraction more to allow Dean to naturally flourish in his true element. He once told Dean that free will was an illusion and he meant it. He is certain this exercise will drive that point home.

She undulates and swirls her hips over the slickened, steel ball. “God, I’m gonna come so fast,” she gasps.

“C’mon, then, sweetheart,” his voice slides into a smooth and lazy rumble. “Fuck it good, and I’ll give ya everything you want.”

“Ohh…” she moans, grinding over the handle. “Put it inside me, please.”

He chuckles quietly as he slowly slips the shiny steel inside her wet cunt with a squelch. “You’re a fuckin’ mess,” he teases, twisting the hard rod inside her, curling it upward, and ramming it into her g-spot. He yanks her forward with the thing, and she yelps. “Ride it, bitch,” he grits his teeth before claiming her mouth in a bruising kiss.

As she comes for the first of many times that night, Michael grins inside.

+++

He’s methodically sliced the blindfold and every length of rope, slashed shallow cuts into her ivory skin. He’s used every device on the sideboard, drawing cries and curses from her lips and blood from her veins. Now he’s got her draped over the back of the luxurious sofa, finally impaled her on his painfully hard cock. He’s fucking into her ass and rhythmically jerking the chain linking one nipple clamp to the other, calling her his “hot, little bitch.”

“Damn,” he groans. “You can take it all, can’t ya?” He wraps one hand around her throat and yanks her upright, squeezing in time with his thrusts. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” he whispers in her ear.

She whines, her cheeks adorned with tears and bloody fingerprints. “Yes, Daddy,” her voice shakes through her cries as he rails into her, his hand steadily tightening around her throat.

“I’m gonna come so hard, sweetheart,” he whispers hot and heady against her temple. His thrusts are brutal and deep. “Such a good girl for Daddy.”

“Ung…” She tries to gasp for air but chokes instead.

He can feel her fear, revels in it, pulses inside her. Her desperation, the way she’s clawing at his forearm and scrambling against him, has him coming hot and fast. She uses the last of her dwindling energy and breath to call out the word given to her by the concierge – the word selected by her client.

“Dean!” she chokes on a sob.

He freezes in place, the walls closing in, blood rushing in his ears. The feel of her throat convulsing in his grip is all too real and he’s suddenly sick to his stomach. He instinctively lets her go, pulls out of and off of her body, stumbles to his feet and backward.

He looks down at the horror he’s wrought. She’s bruised and slashed, a literal bloody mess at his feet once she slides from the sofa to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and before he can reach her to help her up, to check her injuries and what he’s done, he’s being pushed down again – underwater. He tries to fight it. “No! No, you can’t do this!”

“I can, Dean,” Michael says, drawing a slow deep breath and standing tall. He tucks himself back in his pants before fastening them. “And you know it.”

The girl on the floor watches as Michael makes his way to the full-length mirror beside the sideboard, fear and confusion twisting her features. “Are you, like, a split-personality or something?” she asks, rubbing a hand over the newly forming bruises at her throat.

Michael smirks, his reflection filling her with dread. “Or something,” he replies, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair into place before focusing back on the girl, allowing Dean one last look.

“Thank you for your service,” Michael says, buttoning his jacket. Then his eyes glow blue as he sets the girl aflame.

[justkending]

The Protection Program. Chapter 2.

Series Summary: You are a detective that has been hunting a mafia gang down most of your life after your father was killed by someone in the group. While going undercover to keep and eye on one of the members, you bump into Dean Winchester. With him messing up your operation, you two don’t hit it off too well. You later learn that Dean is a major part of keeping you alive.

Chapter Summary: It’s time to face your consequences with your boss.

Pairing: FBI Dean Winchester x Detective Reader (Y/N Knight)

Warnings: Cussing, Sass.

Word Count: 3200+

Masterlist

Chapter 2: (Rewritten 8/26/23)

The paramedics wrapped me up quickly since it was merely a cut and nothing too deep. With some ointment, antibiotics, and gauze, I was on my way back home.

I went home to change out of the awful disguise that made me look 20 years older than I was. Deciding I would take a shower after my talk with Captain Singer, I quickly changed into my usual work clothes.

I put on some black skinny jeans and black combat boots. Along with a new complementing green blouse with a V cut in the front, it wasn't as fitted as the last. Lastly, I threw on a leather jacket to help fight the chill of New York. I went into my bathroom and looked in the mirror, remembering I still had the hat on, tucking my hair out of sight, and the glasses slowly sliding off my face.

I huffed a breath as I pulled back the hat and shook out my hair. It held a slight wave from being pinned up like that since this morning and, surprisingly, looked decently styled.

I smoothed it out before applying a light layer of makeup, mainly to draw attention away from the bruise starting to form on my cheek when my head hit the ground at some point in our tussle earlier.

I gave myself one last look in the mirror. I couldn't lie and say today's events weren't affecting me right now, no matter how hard I'm trying not to let them. But I couldn't get vulnerable in this. Not when we were so close to another big lead.

Besides, a new scar to the collection adds a cool story... At least that's what I say to try and keep me from thinking about it too much...

I shook out of it and returned to earth after a second of inching toward reliving it all in my mind.

"Welp, that's as good as it's going to get," I tugged on my jacket, hooked on my badge, and turned out of the room.

I opened my apartment door and went to grab the black scarf on the coat hanger, but instead, I brought the hand to my neck, still feeling the phantom loss of air after Tony almost strangled me with one earlier. I decided my neck could be cold for one ride, and I'd try another day.

I turned toward the end table I had at the entrance and put on a pair of sunglasses. With that, I shut the door and locked it behind me as I set out to meet my more than an angry boss.

__

I walked out of the apartment building doors, waving to the doorman Alphie, who was a sweet teenage boy whose mom happened to own the building. He was in high school, just trying to scavenge whatever little money he could.

"Bye, Detective Knight! Have a great day!" he said, waving to me as I hopped on my dad's old motorcycle.

He always said he didn't get to ride it as much as he would like, so I've been making sure it gets the mileage and love he meant to give it.

"It's Y/N, Alphie. We talked about this," I smiled as I grabbed my helmet and threw a leg over one side.

"I know, but Mom wants-"

"Alph. I'd rather you call me Y/N. In the end, your mom wants your tenants happy. You call me what my friends call me; it makes me happy." I winked at him before putting on the helmet and adjusting it.

"Yes, ma'am," He chuckled.

"See you around, kid!" I yelled as I waved and kicked the bike into gear, speeding off into New York traffic.

__

I arrived at the station quickly since it was only about 5 minutes from my house. I removed my helmet, placing it on my hip as I rode the elevator to my department's floor.

As soon as it stopped on my level, I saw a handcuffed prisoner getting on with a cop holding his forearm as he guided him onto the elevator.

I didn't give him two glances as I walked past him, but he gave me a double take I didn't ask for.

"Hey, pretty mama? What do you say me and you use these cuffs for other reasons sometime soon?" he smiled, licking his lips.

The cop holding him yanked his arm to keep him away from me. I just laughed as I walked onto my floor and turned back to him, disgusted.

"They like the job they're doing now." I grimaced and walked away, hearing a wolf whistle in return.

As soon as I heard the elevator shut, I shuddered in repugnance at practically being undressed by men almost daily as a woman. Especially in my line of work, you have to choose your battles. It sucks, and I don't care for it, but sometimes you have to walk away when dozens of guys are being assholes.

"Men. Such pigs," I mumbled before turning to the bullpen and heading to my desk.

Not even two steps from my desk, my co-worker, Donna, jumps in front of me.

"Oh my god, Y/N! I heard what went down today! Are you ok? Did he hurt ya' badly? What happened? I need all the details," she spouted, her hands on my forearms, squeezing me as she looked me up and down.

I laughed as I shrugged her off and placed my helmet on my desk. I leaned on the desk, resting my butt on the edge as I crossed my arms over my chest and crossed my feet.

"I'm fine, Don," I chuckled. "I've had worse, plus we got a lead on the DeLuca group. Not exactly how we wanted to...." I said, looking down. "But got something nonetheless," I nodded at her.

She sighed as she put her hands on her utility belt.

"Bossman came in all angry. Some hot rod trailing 'em," she motioned, nodding over to Singer's office, whose door was closed and blinds shut. "I tried getting some answers from him, but he just told me we caught a guy. Then he mumbled something about you blowing your cover and getting yourself hurt." She said the last part quietly.

"Blowing my cover, hmm?" I mumbled, looking at the closed door.

I didn't blow my cover. The dang stuck-up model that ran into me did. If he had watched where he was going, I wouldn't have brought attention to myself and given my disguise away.

"He doesn't even know what went down," I mumbled to myself, but by the look on Donna's face, she heard.

"Ya know the man who he came in with by chance? He sure wasn't a burden on the eyes, if you know what I mean," she nudged me as a grin formed.

I scoffed as I turned back to her.

"You mean tall, tanned, and handsome?"

"Groomed chestnut brown hair, about 6'1, tanned, and devilish muscles? Oh, and a beard that's partially lumberjack worthy, but somehow well maintained and not wilderness wild?" she asked.

"Sounds about right," I rolled my eyes. "You just missed the personality part that ruins the whole image."

"Who is he?"

"So far, he's only been a pain in the ass to me," I huffed. "Apparently, his name is Agent Winchester, from what I got. Kinda a dick at first impressions."

"Agent, hmm?" she hummed, pursing her lip and looking at the door now. "Got a nice ring to it. You think he's single?" she joked.

I playfully slapped her arm as I stood up again and went to rearrange some files on my desk to distract myself.

"You deserve better than him, Donna," I laughed, and she smiled toward my back.

The door to Singer's office opened right after her comment, and the blinds were flipped open. Bobby came out first, then Agent Winchester right after, scratching the magical beard Donna had described perfectly as he looked from the ground to the crowd of workers before him.

I rested my hands on top of my desk as I leaned over, bracing myself for what was about to come next.

While doing so, I made eye contact with this Dean guy, and his serious face turned into a smirk instantly. He casually winked at me as he looked me over—a player. He was a stupid player, apparently, because he wasn't doing that earlier, which means he didn't recognize me.

I rolled my eyes, then looked back down, grabbing a file and rifling through it. I only hoped the Captain wouldn't realize I was there and would forget to chew me out for the earlier incident.

"Knight!" he shouted, ruining all my hope of surviving this afternoon.

I cringed at the sudden shift in mood in the bullpen and felt all eyes on me. Hesitantly, I looked up and straightened my posture.

"Yes, sir?"

"My office. Now," Bobby said sternly, never breaking eye contact with me before heading back in himself.

Once his back was turned, I let out a huff of air, knowing what was coming next. As I set the file down, I noticed the change in Dean's face. He had gone from flirty to confused and shocked.

He was standing in the doorway when I headed in that direction, and I was about to pass him, but he continued to use his body as a block.

"Kinda need to get in there, big guy. No matter how much I'm dreading it." I muttered the last part to myself.

"You're Detective Knight?" he asked with shock still plastered on his face.

"Yeah. Surprised or something?"

"That's not- You didn't- You look very different than earlier," he stuttered.

"That's what disguises do, buddy," I laughed through my nose, patting his shoulder as I pushed past him. "I thought you were in the FBI. You would think you know a thing or two about that?"

He was still trying to wrap his head around my identity when I walked in because, evidently, by his looks, whatever he'd heard about me wasn't what he had found.

I'm sure he'd heard that I was a hothead, but words from the grapevine never did anyone justice.

But from how he had looked at me earlier, he didn't strike me as the kind of guy to consider my brain as much as my bra size.

He shook his head out of his thoughts and followed me into Captain Singer's office, closing the door behind him.

"Wait, why is he-" I started, seeing that he was following me in, but I was interrupted by the Captain.

"What were you thinking?!" he yelled.

I turned back to him, deciding to get this conversation out of the way, and finished as soon as possible. Ken doll behind me was second on my list of worries. Ok, maybe more like 5th.

"I thought I was taking down a man that was going to shoot up the place after he made me," I said, secure in my answer.

"You shouldn't have gotten made in the first place!"

"Listen, Bobby-"

"No, you listen!" he shouted, pointing a finger and moving out from behind his desk.

He stood in front of the chair I sat in and leaned on the edge of the desk to tower over me. Agent Winchester was casually standing beside the desk with his arms crossed, watching my every move like he was a bodyguard to a drug lord.

"I told you to stay where you were and not to leave your seat. And what did you do?"

"I-"

"You got up from your seat anyway and started toward the man." He answered for you, anger still clear in his voice. "Because of that, he pulled out the gun."

"Actually-"

"Actually, nothing! I gave you an order, and you directly disobeyed me. You might as well have taken out your earpiece and thrown it in the trash!" he huffed, leaning back and running a hand through his thinning hair.

I had caused a lot of stress for this man in my lifetime, but something in today's accident seemed to hit him harder than usual.

"This isn't the first time either, Y/N. You've stepped out before and gotten hurt then, too. I can't let this happen anymore." He paused and crossed his arms while looking down at me. "It could've been worse Y/N/N. You know I see you as my own daughter, and I wouldn't be able to bear seeing my best detective get injured even more than she already manages, or worse... Killed. I can't... I can't go through that pain again," he said in a sadder tone.

I paused, waiting to see if he had more. Nothing.

"Can I say my piece now?" I asked softly but with a touch of annoyance.

Bobby rolled his eyes at me as he sat back down at his desk. Winchester just gave me an unimpressed look at my comment. But he didn't know my relationship with Bobby and, therefore, had no right to judge from the outside.

"I get it. You're angry and have a right to be, Cap," I said, leaning forward in my chair. I placed my elbows on my knees and laced my fingers together as I kept eye contact with him. "But remind me again why I'm your best detective?" I asked with a small grin.

"Y/N-"

"Because I'm not scared to take the dangerous steps and moves that others are. A big part of my job is about having the will to put myself in the line of fire so that others won't get the shit end of the deal." I paused. "We both know it's hard for me to stand on the sidelines when something like that is a possibility." I paused again, waiting for a reaction, but he nodded at me to continue. "Besides, I didn't move with the intention of getting caught. I just so happened to bump into doofus here and cause a scene," I waved a hand in Agent Winchester's direction but didn't look his way.

"Excuse me?" he said, but I ignored him.

"If I hadn't run at Tony, some innocent would have been collateral. We know how that group works, and after they shot me, who knows how many bystanders in that shop would have been killed, too?"

"It's just that-"

"I get it, Bobby, but I would never do something without thinking about the consequences or how it'll affect those around me."

"I know. I know," he grumbled. "Sometimes you have to trust me too, though, okay? I know what I'm doing. What do you think got me in this chair?" he said, motioning to his seat. "Experience."

"And I fully admire and look up to you for how you got there. It's just- I did what needed to be done, and I'm not mad that I did it," I said, leaning back into the chair and crossing my arms in finality.

"You and your stubborn ass," he muttered. "Which brings me to my next point."

"What's that?" I said, raising an eyebrow at the man still standing off to the side, all solemn but had yet to look away from me.

"You are going on desk duty for two weeks," Bobby stated.

"But-!" I shouted, shifting to the edge of my seat.

"You know the protocol. You go out of line; I got to bench you," he said, surrendering his hands before putting them back on the desk.

"You can't do that, sir! We just got a lead on this case! And as the lead detective on the case, how much do you expect me to get done sitting in the bullpen when it's all happening out there?" I pointed toward the window in shock that he would even consider this with how close we were.

"Sorry, Y/N, I can't let you out after you defined a Captain's order in the field." He sighed, showing disappointment in more than one issue.

Typical. You make a choice they train you to make in the field, and you get reprimanded for it.

"How are you going to get any further with this? I'm the only one who knows this case front and back. Sure, others know bits and pieces of it, but this- this is everything I trained for," I said, growing more upset now.

I could feel the Agent's gaze on me and knew he had watched my face change from anger to heartbreak instantly. I didn't particularly care to show vulnerability, so I hated that he was still in the room.

"Listen, the case will be continued with those already on it, plus you and Agent Winchester as well," Bobby said, avoiding eye contact with me, knowing my glare would follow. He nervously shifted files on his desk, waiting for my next reaction.

"Agent Winchester?" I asked, turning to the man who gave me a smug grin. "This guy? You gotta be kidding me..."

"Hey, you don't even know me. Don't be so quick to judge, sweetheart," he said with a stern face.

"Sweetheart? Where are you even from?" I turned back to Bobby, a fire growing in power in my chest. "This guy knows nothing about this place. He doesn't know the case or any of the background on it. It's a waste of time!" I said, now standing up and unconsciously waving my arms around as I talked.

"Now wait a second, missy-"Dean said, pointing a finger at me as if I were a dog that just chewed up his favorite pair of shoes.

That only caused me to go into defense mode and stand my ground more intensely. I straightened my posture and puffed my chest; our faces became mere inches apart. Neither of us broke the death glares we were sending each other.

"Both of you children, cut this shit out!" Bobby shouted, standing and slamming his hands on the desk. "Can you let me get a word in before you rip each other's throats out?"

We both looked his way, and our heads fell slightly at being reprimanded.

"Now," Bobby sighed as he caught his breath. "Dean here was on his way here so that he could help with the case anyway. Nothing has changed in that area."

"I don't need help on the case-"

"Y/N. You've been on this case for the eight years you've been here. Hell, probably even longer knowing you," Bobby spoke.

Dean looked at me at the statement, and I could see the wheels turning in ways I wished they wouldn't.

I had ties to this case few others could relate to. Not that he needed to know, but Bobby wasn't exactly hiding that hint of why I was so passionate about this gangster group.

"Exactly, so you can see where I'm hesitant to hand it off to a stranger who has no idea what they're doing," I said in a sassy tone, keeping my eyes on Bobby. "No offense to you, Ranger," I sassed, only throwing a hand toward him in acknowledgment.

"I know what I'm doing, Detective." The defensiveness was thick in his lowered voice, and I turned to him slowly to see his eyes narrowed at me.

"I believe you think you know what you're doing, but you don't—promise," I retorted with a sarcastic smirk that dropped as quickly as it came.

He opened his mouth to fight me, but Bobby spoke up again.

"That's enough! Dean is a family friend who is a highly decorated FBI agent. Meaning he is more than qualified to lend a hand in this case. He's been traveling where they need him, and I asked if he could come up here to help us with the case."

"I-"

"You've done good things on this case and have helpful leads and evidence, but having fresh eyes on it won't hurt. This is a bigger job than most. Dean is good at his job and maybe just as well known as you are in solving cases. I wouldn't let him on it if I thought he wouldn't be any help," Bobby said, attempting to reassure me.

I was not, however. This case was like my work child, and trusting someone new, someone I had only grown irritant of in the last few hours of knowing him, was not a card I was willing to play.

"Great. So I'm just supposed to sit at my desk while he takes over then?" I pouted.

"You wouldn't be if you had followed my instruction, but because you didn't-"

"It was for the greater good-!"

"I know, but protocol is protocol. I can't break it just cause it's you," Bobby said sadly. "Now, please, don't make this harder than it is, and just accept the consequence so we can make the time pass faster and get this punishment over with," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "The sooner you stop fighting me, the sooner you get out in the field."

"I- but...I can't just-" I huffed, throwing up my hands. "Fine! Fine. Whatever you say, Captain." With that, I stormed out of the room and went straight to the break room to isolate myself from everyone.

Dean and Bobby watched me walk out, and Dean grunted as I left. And out of earshot, they continued their conversation.

"You weren't kidding when you said she was a hot head," he pointed out before turning to Bobby.

"She's more connected to this group than I would like her to be, but..." he slumped into his chair. "It keeps her driven, and she finds things others completely overlook."

"She really is a good detective, isn't she?" Dean asked, hesitant.

"The best. Solved more cases in the eight years she's been here than some of the veterans have in 20." He chuckled dryly. "Don't know how she does it, but I ain't complaining. It's only when she has outbursts like that and takes the reins in her own hands that I go crazy. I hate having to bench my best. Makes the game harder."

"I get that," Dean agreed. "Listen, I'm more than happy to help with this. You know that, Bobby, but..." He looked out into the room I had returned and sat angrily back at my desk. "I don't know if I can handle that."

"Trust me, I didn't think so either," Bobby laughed. "She's a nice girl once you gain her trust. She only wants to help keep those around her stay safe and out of harm's way. I promise that. You just have to get past her rough exterior. The kid's seen and been through some tough crap. You two might understand each other in that department," Bobby said, giving Dean a knowing look as he looked back from me to him. "Give her a chance. She'll come around. Eventually."

"I hope you're right, Bobby," Dean breathed out.

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[crashdevlin]

New Romantics-6: Longing and Loss

New Romantics Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is a multi-chapter sequel to Wildest Dreams

Summary: Y/n is using her powers for good... isn’t she?

Pairing(s): Dean x Reader, Crowley x Reader, Sam x Reader

Word Count: 4383

Story Warnings: Smut, 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!, anal sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, canon-appropriate character deaths, manipulation, BoyKing!Sam and Intended Queen!Reader!

Chapter Warnings: Blood Drinking, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive!Sam

The phone ringing wakes me. It's a persistent buzz against the hard wood of the hotel bedside table. “Don't answer it,” my bed mate says, low voice a deeper rumble from sleep. I didn't know demons could sleep before I started sharing a bed with one.

I raise the phone enough to see the name on the screen. “Gotta. S'Dean” I mumble, as the phone zooms to my hand and the call connects before I've even touched it. I've been expecting this call. It's April. His year's almost up. One last hurrah. “Hey.”

“I wake you?”

I sit up and run my hand across my face. “Don't know what timezone you're in, Winchester, but it's 4:30 in the morning here in Cheyenne.” Shit. Shouldn't have called. comes through to my mind, clear as a bell. “I don't mind, though. I got a few good hours. What's up?”

“I…” Wanna see you before I go to Hell. Just one more time. “Thought we could have that last hurrah. Haven't seen you since Elizabethville. Even went by your place a couple times, but you were never in.”

“I've been keeping busy. Stop too long and it all hits hard. Uh… where are you? Wanna meet somewhere? And… where's Sam?”

“We actually just finished a thing in Pueblo. Sam's looking into last-ditch efforts. Told him I needed a few days, so he's gonna hole up with his laptop and try to find an out that he somehow missed for the last year. Wanna meet halfway? Denver?”

I shoot Crowley a look but he just turns over and grabs a glass of scotch from his side table. “Yeah. I can do that. Biggersons off the interstate?”

“Sounds good. Meet'cha there, Boots.”

I hang up and pull the blanket back, moving for my clothes. “He's doing the rounds, sayin’ ‘Goodbye’?” Crowley asks. I nod. “And, knowing yer not the only one on the tour, you still wanna go?”

“Where's my leg to stand on, Crowley?” I gesture at him. “I have literally been sleeping with the enemy. I should be upset that he's got another bendy bitch he thinks of fondly? Please.”

“And the thief? He wanted her, too. And a hundred other-”

“I have no claim to him. None of it matters. He's dead in two weeks. I can't save him any more than Sam can. But I can make him feel good before the lights go out.”

I dress quickly and check my hair in the ornate mirror by the door before I leave. Crowley likes five star hotels and ancient scotch. He likes Armani suits and shoes made of Italian leather. He's started taking care of every little thing for me and while a big part of me resents it because I'm a grown ass woman and a hunter who doesn't need a demon to take care of me… the other part enjoys sleeping on Egyptian cotton sheets with 1000 thread count, and never worrying about going hungry just because I haven't had any luck hustling lately.

The doorman glares at me on my way out of the hotel and the valet seems to really hate my car, but what can I say? Still a hunter. Demon-fucker, blood-drinker, telepathic and telekinetic, but still a fucking hunter.

I make it to the restaurant in a little over an hour. Dean’s already waiting for me and I notice him before he notices me. He’s tired and scared. He’s clinging to the thought that there’s no way out if he wants to keep Sam alive. I approach with a smile and slide into the booth across from him. He plasters a fake smile on his lips. “Kinky Boots! Lookin’ damn fine for not even sunrise!”

“Wish I could say the same, Winchester, but you look like crap. When’s the last time you slept?” He shrugs. “Nightmares?”

“Well, I got a major league demon holdin’ my contract, one with a big chip on her shoulder about my brother, so she ain’t backin’ down on it. Unless we can figure out a way to put down Lilith in the next two weeks, I’m done, so… sleep doesn’t come easy.”

“Lilith.” I blink at him and lick my lips. “Your contract is held by… Lilith?”

“Yeah. This chick I know went down the same way as me said that, uh, Lilith holds all the contracts.”

“But that would mean she runs the crossroads.” Crowley runs the crossroads.

“I guess so.”

A pit hits my stomach. Of course Crowley’s been lying to me. He’s a fucking demon. Why does it hurt? I force a smile to hide the betrayal I’m feeling. “So… what can I do for you, Dean? Last hurrah, how do you want it?”

I get a flash of a candlelit motel room, soft rhythm and blues playing in the background as he takes his time with me, savoring every inch of my body. There's champagne on the side table for just a second before his mind changes it to a bottle of cheap fruity white zinfandel. Even in his fantasy, he can't go that Nicholas Sparks.

“I'm a simple man with simple tastes. I'm thinkin’ motel room, shades drawn, classic rock on the radio, bottle of whiskey, only leaving the bed for food and water for a few days.” It’s kinda sad that he won’t let himself be soft.

“Well, then we better get some food in us… and some to take with us,” I say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No more. I can’t…. Need a break,” I breathe out. We've been going for hours, at this point. I've cum three times to his once, but it's just overstimulation by now.

He climbs up my body and smirks down at me. “See, this is what happens when you stop doin’ your yoga. You lose your stamina.”

I don't argue that my stamina is fine, that I'm overworked from the way Crowley took me last night, that if I can keep up with a demon then I can definitely keep up with him… I simply pull his head down and lick into his mouth.

“Ah, I should probably call Sammy, anyway, let him know the Hounds haven't gotten me yet.” Twelve missed calls, at least. He's gotta be losing his mind. “I’m, uh… not gonna tell him who I’m with. Just… I mean, I don’t wanna…”

“I get it. I’ll be quiet. Actually, I’ll take this as an opportunity to hit the bathroom.” I kiss him again and roll off the bed. Dean slaps my ass as I walk away.

“Hey, Sam.”

Through the filter of Dean's mind, I hear Sam's words. “Where the hell are you, Dean? I take a fucking nap and wake up to a note and you don't answer the fucking phone for four hours?”

“Man, I told you. I just needed to have a little fun! It's not even the final countdown. I wanted to have a night without you giving me sad puppy eyes, okay? I think I have earned that.”

“Dean, we have two weeks to figure out how to find Lilith and get her to drop your contract.”

“She's not gonna do that, Sam! We have absolutely no way to find her, let alone force her to give up my freaking soul. Let me have this one thing and then I'll come back and we can go back on soul patrol, all right?”

There was a long moment of silence, then a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Don’t be gone too long, man. I’m gonna call Bobby, see if he’s got anything.”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll call ya when I get out of here.” I walk back out of the bathroom and jump on the bed, wrapping my arms around Dean. He looks into my eyes and smiles. For a moment, there’s no fear in him. It doesn’t last, of course. The man’s going to Hell, and he’s terrified, but for a moment he’s lost in my eyes and it’s amazing.

His hand buries in my hair and he pulls me into a kiss. His tongue doesn't taste like whiskey anymore, just his unique Dean flavor. He's not drunk. He's just vulnerable. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. “When I go, I need you to take care of Sam. You and Bobby, he's gonna need you or he's gonna lose it.”

“I-”

“Lilith is gonna be after him. She's probably after you, too, since you were on Azazel's short list, too. I just need you to watch his back. If you gotta do that from his bed, more power to the power couple.”

I scoff and pull away, bringing my knees up to my chest. “Did you call me here for this? To fuck me, then chase me off to be with Sam?”

Confusion fills him as he debates whether or not that’s what he’s trying to do. “That’s not what I meant. Sometimes, I wish you still had your powers, ‘cause you could hear what I-”

I shake my head. “I don’t think you know what you meant, Winchester.” He agrees. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t want me with Sam, wants me to have something real, but he doesn’t want either of us to be alone once he goes to Hell. “Maybe I should leave.”

“No, don’t go. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.” He sighs. His eyebrows come together as he pushes his hand into my hair. “Whatever happened with your salesman?”

“I told you it wasn’t anything real, Dean.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry. You should definitely have something real.”

“Like I could have with Sam?” I guess. He nods. I shake my head. “No. Much as I enjoy your brother...Things with my salesman are more real than what I have with Sam. At least he doesn’t think I belong with him because the Yellow-eyed Demon said so.” I scoff. “Azazel would probably hate my salesman.” I don’t know why I like calling him ‘my salesman’ so much, but it feels right. He definitely sold me on a bunch of things I never would’ve considered a year ago.

“Look, promise me that you will, at least, keep tabs on Sam. Try to keep him from going too far off the rails?” Please. If Sam gets himself killed then this was all fucking pointless. “I just… the whole point of this is to keep Sam alive.”

Dean Winchester tends to say what's on his mind when it comes to me and I like that. I like that he doesn't know that I'm still in his head so he doesn't try to keep shit inside. Dean is one of the most uniquely honest liars I've ever met. He lies to himself a lot, but he tries not to lie to me.

I nod. “Yeah, okay. I'll try.”

“Thank you.” He pulls me into another kiss and I melt into it, letting him lay me down and cover my body with his own. I let him take comfort in me one last time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I take a hunt in California, then I head home. By the time I make it back to Keystone, it’s the morning of May 4. Crowley’s waiting for me, leaning against my porch with his hands in his pockets. My nonchalant demon salesman. I get out of my car and lean against the hood, ignoring the heat from the engine. “He make it downstairs?”

“‘Bout thirty hours ago… been months already for ‘im.”

“I forgot. Time’s wonky down there, isn’t it?”

“Hell’s designed to fuck with your head… and body, and soul. I wasn’t there for more than a year before I was a demon, pet. That’s quite a lot longer down there, but…” He shrugs and starts toward me. “Have you broken that trap, yet?”

I shake my head. “I like having a place where you won’t go.” He grabs my hips and pulls me away from my car. This is where he snaps my jeans off and fucks me… usually. I slap his hands away. “We need to talk about Lilith.”

Crowley rolls his eyes at me. “Are you sure you want to talk about Lilith? It’s been weeks since you’ve seen me. I thought you might need a top-up.”

“I’ve been rationing. I’ve still got a fourth of a bottle left,” I say, smugly. “Lilith. Spill.”

“What? What do you want to know?”

“Lilith holds all crossroad contracts. I thought you were King of the Crossroads.”

“I am… but everyone has a boss.”

“And Lilith’s your boss.”

“Yes, and no. Tol’ you she took over after Azazel went. She sits on the throne, so it’s her name on the scrolls. That’s it. I’m in charge of the Crossroads,” he insists.

I lick my lips, search his eyes, finally sigh. Even if he’s lying, I can’t tell. Even if he’s lying, what could I do about it? I need his blood. That quarter of a vial of blood isn’t gonna last very long. He can see my resistance fade. I can see it in his smile as he steps closer and grabs my hips. I’ve gotten used to the sulfur taste in his mouth, I like to chase it around with my tongue.

He pushes me back against my hood. It’s still burning hot, but all I can focus on is his hands pushing my shirt up over my breasts, his hard cock rutting against my thigh. He quickly pulls my bra down and starts licking and biting my nipple. I lean back to give him better access, using my powers to pop the button of his suit pants and pull the zipper down. He pulls back, pops the button on my jeans and pulls them and my underwear down my legs.

I turn quickly and set my hands on the hot metal hood. Crowley slips a hand down my ass and slips two fingers inside of me. “Oh, fuck.”

“Are you always this wet? Because every time I touch you, you are.”

I drop my head to the backs of my hands and moan in response as he fucks those fingers in and out of me. He pulls them away and immediately replaces them with the head of his cock. That beautiful, huge fucking cock. Honestly, if I didn’t know that the man he wears used to be a literary agent, I’d swear he must’ve been a porn star because that cock… That cock is amazing. “Foot on the bumper,” he instructs and I obey. Dear God, I don’t even consider not doing what he says.

He slides in, one hand on my hip, the other grabbing my shoulder to hold me in place. It’s moments like this, when he’s fucking me over the hood of my car and my moans are echoing through the trees surrounding my house, that I consider breaking the Devil’s Trap under my house. I want him to take me in my bed, where I’m comfortable, but I can’t let him.

I have to have that space. That space untainted by demons and blood. Hell, I don’t even drink his blood in the house. I leave it in the car. That house, it’s got memories of Sam, of Dean and John. It’s got memories of the years I was normal. I can’t let Crowley corrupt that when he’s already corrupted me.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I moan as he picks up his speed.

“Louder!”

My pussy clenches hard at his demand, and I start moaning louder. It’s fucking early in the day to be screaming, but it’s not like I have neighbors to worry about. “Please, Crowley! Please, fuck, please! Please, harder. God, I need it.” His grip on me tightens and he hammers into me harder, his cock hitting my cervix over and over. I scream, slapping the hood and shuddering as my muscles tighten and flutter around him. He fucks me through it, pulsing as he hits his own orgasm and fills me up.

He pulls away from me and snaps his fingers and we’re both dressed. I turn to him and lick my lips. “So, uh… I still have some left, but-”

“Of course, darling.” He produces another small glass bottle full of his blood and presents it to me. I take it and immediately shove it in my pocket. “Til next time.”

“Yeah.” I nod and head toward my place. He’s gone by the time I get to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hear the engine rumbling down the dirt road to my house at a little before 5pm. That loud 502 big block is unmistakable. It used to be that sound would denote Dean’s arrival, but I know it’s Sam behind the wheel tonight. I open the front door as Sam slams the driver’s door and stumbles toward the porch. He’s drunk, I can smell the whiskey. I rush to his side, trying to help him stay upright. I can’t believe he was driving like this.

“Sam!”

“He’s dead. Dean’s dead. I couldn’t save him.”

“So, that's reason to drink yourself to death?” I snap, trying to wrap him around me and get him into my place. He stumbles on the stairs, dropping away from me, his large body hurtling toward the wood of the porch, face-first. I put my hands out on instinct to stop him, but not with my muscles because I know I can lift that two-forty body without help. I use my powers without a thought and he’s left floating two inches over the porch.

He slowly sets his palms against the wood, drops his knees and turns his head to look at me. His eyes are wide and I can see that adrenaline has burned some of the liquor out of his blood. For the moment, he’s lucid, and he knows. I drop him and he turns his whole body, sits on the steps and looks up at me. “You still have your powers?”

I shake my head. “I got them back,” I whisper.

“You got… you got them back? When? How?”

I swallow and lick my lips. “Uh… the day I disappeared in Lincoln.”

“This whole year? You… why didn’t you say anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Because I’ve been… This is really a conversation for us to have when you’re sober.”

“I’m sober enough,” he growls, standing and using his height to try to intimidate me. “Fuckin’ tell me. Tell me how you got the powers back.”

I look up into his eyes and steel myself. “How’d we get ‘em the first time?” He blinks a few times, then his eyebrows pull down tightly. I reach into my pocket and pull out the little glass bottle.

He snatches the bottle from my hand and raises it to his eyes. “Is this-?”

“Yeah. It’s… it isn’t Azazel’s so it doesn’t work quite the way it should… I have to keep drinking it or the powers fade. I’ve been trying to cut back. I… I don’t like relying on… him. I mean, it, the demon.”

“You… you’ve been drinking demon blood?”

I grab the bottle back and shove it into my pocket. “Yes.”

“For a year? Who’s been giving it to you?”

“Just this crossroads demon I know. He… wants to help.”

“Yeah. Ruby says that, too. But she couldn't help me save Dean.”

“Dean was going down, Sam. There was no stopping it. We all tried.”

“Did you? Because while me and Bobby were trying to keep him from being taken, you weren’t around much!”

I turn a glare on him. “Yeah, what did you expect me to do, Sam? Stick around and be the rope in your little game of Tug-of-War? I heard your thoughts in Lincoln, Sam, and in Elizabethville. You think I’m yours, but Dean’s the one that actually wanted me for something more than my body. He wanted me to have something real. I heard his thoughts, too.” I roll my eyes. “I tried. If I could have kept him from going to Hell, I would have.”

“You think I only want you for your-”

“I’ve heard your thoughts, Sam!” I exclaim. “It’s all ‘Mine’ this and ‘Don’t touch her’ that. You haven’t had those complimentary thoughts since before that night in Lincoln. It’s all possessiveness and-”

“You’re supposed to be mine.”

“Just because Azazel wanted me to be your queen and right-hand woman doesn’t mean-”

“Yes, it does!” His hand shoots out and grabs my hair, pulling me closer. He’s breathing hard, his breath smells like whiskey, and his mind has that swimmy feeling of drunkness coming back, and maybe I’m getting a contact high from his mind, because the way he’s looking at me makes me feel swimmy, too. “You are mine. Not Dean’s. Not your traveling salesman and not that fucking demon’s. Understand?”

I open my mouth to respond but he crashes our faces together, biting my lips and licking into my mouth. His free hand grabs at my waist, pulls my shirt up. I whine and pull away. “Not out here, Sam. Inside,” I whisper. I entwine my fingers with his and pull him toward the front door. He stumbles but he doesn’t fall this time. I push him to sit on the couch and he pulls me to straddle his lap.

Mine. There’s no yielding in the thought. No question. He’s resolute.

I nod. Yours. I push the word into his head. It’s been a while since I’ve done it and I don’t know if it works, but he seems to get it.

He grabs my head with both of his large hands and pulls me into another harsh kiss. He moves to bite my neck and shoulder and the pain zings through my body, settling into a throbbing between my legs. Tell me about the blood. Tell me what you can do.

I moan as he keeps attacking my skin with his mouth and teeth. “It started w-with the te-telepathy and… fuck, Sam.” He growls into my neck and I whimper. “Um, the-the telekinesis came back quick, too. And then… then the demon started to show me h-how to perform exorcisms with my mind.” He pulls back and looks into my eyes, questioning. “Yeah. It’s… kinda like what Ava was doing with the Acheri in Cold Oak. It’s like controlling them. I can force them out of their vessels and direct them back down to Hell.”

“And the vessel?”

“As long as the demon hasn’t ridden ‘em too hard, they live.”

“So, this crossroads demon has been helping you save people?”

I nod. “He’s… he’s a demon, so he doesn’t do it for free,” I whisper, avoiding his eyes.

Sam’s jaw tightens. Knew you were fucking him. “Not anymore. If it’s really worth it-” he starts, grabbing my jaw and forcing me to look at him. “-we’ll find another demon to get the blood from.”

“We?”

He slips his hand in my pocket and pulls out the bottle. “Show me,” he says twisting the top off and offering the bottle to me.

I swallow, nervously, and take it from his hand. “I started with one drop.” I dab a drop on my finger and show it to him. “That’s all it took at the beginning. I need a lot more now, but… that first drop, I could hear everything again.” I lick my lips as his eyes focus on my bloodied finger.

“How fast does it work?”

“Few minutes… but the powers, they take work. Just like when Azazel was still around, it takes effort. It takes time,” I answer.

“Do you think we could use this, the powers, to get Lilith?” His mind flashes to Lilith, in Ruby’s vessel, letting in the hound that tore Dean to pieces.

“Yeah. The demon said that eventually they’ll be strong enough to kill demons, but the amount of blood I’d need to drink to get there would be-” He cuts me off by licking my finger into his mouth. He sucks hard on my finger before pulling it from his mouth and grabbing my hips.

I set the bottle on the coffee table and turn back to Sam. It doesn’t take long for his pupils to shrink and his breathing to go hard. I remember this feeling, this very first high. Everything is enhanced, everything is lovely and scary. His fingers tighten around my hips. “This… is…” he starts.

I nod. I know, Sammy.

“We’re gonna need more,” he growls.

“Yeah.” The word is just a breath as he starts to pull at my clothing.

“You’re gonna help me avenge Dean.” He pulls my shirt over my head and drops it to the ground next to the couch. It takes just a few minutes for him to have me folded in half on his lap, my feet on his shoulders and his cock buried in me, thumb rubbing my clit. “You’re gonna teach me how to use those powers… and we’re going to kill Lilith.”

“Yes. Yes.” I’m shaking. He’s barely moving inside of me, just rocking me on his lap, but it feels so good just to be so fucking full of Sam. “We’re gonna kill Lilith.”

“Good girl, y/n.”

He starts bouncing me on his cock and I feel so fucking small with how he’s manhalding me and my eyes roll back in my head. I start rambling out ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ and ‘oh, god’, but Sam doesn’t say a word. His mind is full of those possessive thoughts. He’s thinking about killing Lilith, yes, but he’s thinking about how I take him so perfectly, how I’m made for him, how we were supposed to be together. He thinks about how he wishes he had met me without Dean and John, how he wishes he didn’t have the memories of watching them fuck me, but eventually comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter. John and Dean are dead. I’m his.

I’m yours. I think at him through my moans.

“No more demon dick,” he growls and I nod. “Mine.” He twists and lays me down on the couch, hammering into me like he's gonna win a prize. He cums quickly, the enhanced sensation from the demon blood high overwhelming him. He pulls out and kisses me before looking in my eyes. “When can we start?”

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[julesthequirky]

Forget Me Not -One-

Summary: You wake up as Y/N Winchester, having no recollection how you came to be, all you know is there’s a Djinn out there and you have to find it. It’s your job, your duty, except the world isn’t as it should be. Castiel isn't Castiel and he’s claiming you aren't you. Or are you?

Warnings: Dissociative Identity Disorder, angst, language

You woke with a start. A blue curtain was pulled around you and you heard the steady beep of a machine beside you. The last you remembered was crashing through a window and hitting your head on the ground. Then darkness.

The Djinn! You had to find out where it had got to and how many more people it had caught.

You sat straight up and gave a gritted cry as you pulled out the IV. You wrapped your wrist with a cloth and quickly dressed. They didn’t appear to be your clothes, because none of the items contained plaid or denim. You grabbed your shoulder bag and left your little cubicle. You kept your head down just in case anybody recognised you.

Outside it was warm and the sun beat down on your head. You looked around the busy bay, not recognising anything. You spotted a sign. Vancouver General Hospital. Vancouver?! You weren’t even in America! You should have been in Iowa!

“Ah, shit!”

At that point, your bag started buzzing and ringing with some top 40’s chart hit. Urgh. You rummaged around until you found the offending sound. On caller ID you saw “Bae” on the display. Who the hell is Bae? You answered and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Honey, oh thank God, I’ve been worried sick. Where are you? Everyone’s looking for you.”

Across the line it sounded a little like Castiel with a little less grit in his voice.

“Cas?”

There was a pause. “Did you hit your head again?”

Again? What the hell did that mean?

“What? Forget that” You waved a hand in front of your face as you spoke. “I need to get back to Iowa. There’s a Djinn, help me out.”

You heard a sigh.

“Oh baby, you hit your head hard, didn’t you?”

“Look, I may have had a tumble but I’m fine. Just get me to Iowa.” You ended the call.

You stood, wondering and waiting for Castiel. You walked circles until the boredom kicked in. He had called you baby and honey. Those words weren’t usually a part of his vacabulary. You knelt down on the sidewalk, dropping your bag to the ground in the process. Inside you grabbed a thick filofax and pulled it out. Inside it was full of thoughts and reprisals of days. On one side of the file, you saw your name and the anti-possession symbol. You flipped over the page and saw ‘read me’. You scoffed.

Below the sign was a letter. With your name on it.

 Y/N Winchester,

 Stay where you are and read this before doing ANYTHING.

 Answer all calls from ‘Bae’, you’ll recognise him, I promise. Let him know where you are so he can pick you up. Tell him the last thing you remember. He’ll be able to correct you. Listen to him.

 You are me. Integrate your life with my life. Do the things I would do. Wear the clothes I would wear. Listen to my music, read what I read, meet with my friends, go to the events and meetings.

 Last but not least: there are no monsters. They’re not real. The world you’re in is different from mine. So, please, don’t go searching.

 Y/N Collins x

 You shook your head. Whoever this lady was she had a stick up her ass. You hated being told what to do, everyone knew that. You stuffed the planner inside the bag. In there you found keys, a planner, a phone, power bank and cable, earphones, D&G sunglasses and two platinum gold rings. Maybe you could pawn them for cash, though it seemed whoever this so called other you was, they were loaded.

Fifteen minutes later a sleek black SUV pulled up beside you. The door opened, a foot stepped out, in bright trainers, leg clad in light blue denim. Anther foot followed and you saw Castiel in a dark blue shirt. His hair was wild and fluffed. He looked good. Sexy even. He’d always looked good in his usual getup, but this was different and you couldn’t keep the shock off your face.

“Cas, you got new duds! And a car!!”

He smiled at you then pulled you in for a hug. Your eyes widened. Cas was never one for physical affection.

“Oh my God, did you get a personality transplant?” you asked after he released you.

His eyes turned downcast as sadness tinged them and he gave you a weak smile.

“Let’s get you home shall we?”

“What? Home? God, no, Cas, I need to get to Iowa. There’s a Djinn.”

He reached into your bag and pulled out the filofax. He held it up.

“This has instructions for you when this happens. You need to read them.” He flipped it open and you rolled your eyes.

“I read her letter.”

“You did?” He looked at you, gripping the planner in his hands. “Well, that’s good.”

You looked at the car, at him and where you were.

“Did you lose your angel mojo or something? And how come you happen to be in Vancouver like me? I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

“I’ll explain on the way.” he said and gestured to the car.

You sighed and complied with his request. The interior of the car was plush. It was all leather and faux marble. He closed your door, walked round to his side and slid into the drivers seat, shutting the door after him.

It was cooler inside. He had the air-con on. Before you could talk a call came through. He answered. The voice you recognised.

“Hey, I got your text, is everything okay? Did you manage to find her?”

“Sam?”

There was a pause before either of them spoke.

“She hit her head, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I am right here, I can hear both of you.”

Castiel looked to you “I know, and ill explain everything to you once we get back, I promise. Meet us back at my apartment. Both of you.”

“Of course, man. We’ll be there. Need me to let Bob know?”

“I’ll let him know.”

“All right, see you soon, bye.”

“Bye.”

The call ended and it wasn’t too long before you pulled up to a luxurious block of apartments. Castiel cut the engine and stepped out. You stepped out and followed him. You eyed the doorman and Castiel pulled you through the atrium and into an elevator. He jabbed the 9 button. It was maddening how fast it took to reach the floor. He took you along a corridor and around a corner. Leaning against the wall by a door were Sam and Dean.

“Sam, Dean! What the hell are you guys doing in Vancouver? There’s a Djinn in Iowa!”

Dean looked at Sam and then to Castiel and back to you.

“Crap, you weren’t kidding. What do we tell Bob?”

“Nothing, I’ll tell him.” He opened the door, placed his hand on your lower back and guided you in.

You were amazed by the sheer size of the place. During the whole time you had known him, he hadn’t said the slightest about owning a large place. When he lost his wings, he had been homeless. This was a shock.

“Oh my God, Cas, I didn’t know you had money!”

As he guided you to a grey couch, you were astounded by the art he had on his walls, in awe of the oak sets he owned, and finally you sat. He sat opposite you as Sam and Dean sat on either side of you.

“You told me to be real and to be myself if this happened again, so I will. Firstly I’m not Castiel. I’m Misha, and they’re not Sam and Dean. They’re Jensen and Jared. We, all four of us work on a show called Supernatural where we play these characters, except when you hit your head, you weren’t yourself, you were somehow your character.”

You looked at him, letting it all sink in. You hoped to God this wasn’t true.

“There are no monsters. They don’t exist. There is no Djinn, darling. You don’t need to travel to Iowa. There, however was a Djinn in the last episode you played, from last season and we are now just picking up the season after being on hiatus.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“It can’t not be real.” you said after a few minutes.

“It’s true.” He stood up and went to the mantle, grabbing a photo and taking it over to you.

“This is us, on our wedding day.”

You took the photo from him, and saw yourself adorned in a white lace gown with 3/4 sleeves, holding a bouquet of white roses. Beside you was Castiel, or Misha.

Your adrenaline spiked and you flew up and pushed the photo into his hands. Your breath came out in a pant and you felt the nausea rising. This was not your reality. Your reality was fighting monsters alongside your brothers.

“I married fake Castiel.” you gasped your world turning upside down.

You stumbled out of their way, holding a hand to the wall, your other pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to get your breath back and desperately trying to make the dizziness go away. A hand touched your shoulder.

“Honey-”

“Please, don’t. I-I’m not her.”

His hand fell from your shoulder.

“She said when this happened to integrate you with everything she did. Why don’t you try it?”

“No…No. She’s so organised. I’m not. She writes her thoughts out in that planner of hers for Christ’s sake. I bet she even has restroom breaks in there.”

“They’re for you to read. Why don’t we take you to set?”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Misha?” Fake Dean asked.

“It might help her to adjust.”

The set. Of course. You looked at them.

“Take me there.”

Forget Me Not Tags:

@ain-t-bovvered @ezilyamuzed

Misha Fic Tags:

@goobykeding