#what happens at the roadhouse...

[dotthings]

You know who I feel sad for right now is Misha, because I think he wanted to be able to speak much much earlier than he was able to about Cas’s confession. We know he drafted an essay about Cas’s coming out…and then wound up not publishing it. Misha deserved to be able to talk about it in interviews the way Oliver Stark is able to about Buck. Misha mentioned it on zoom calls, briefly. And then it seems like he got yanked back by the PR machine and the nature of Cas’s confession wasn’t discussed on any SPN PR materials and for a time Misha was restricted on what he could say on CE Con stages.

At first, back then, for a few glorious days, I thought the stigma about queer Cas, about Destiel, had been lifted, finally, and then WB/CW brought the restrictions back down via PR. Oh you can have your confession scene, SPN, but corporate will control the narrative on how it’s spoken about or not.

We saw this thaw over time. (Anyone who claims otherwise or that Misha was always able to be open about it, is lying). Now Misha can speak openly about it and that shift began around the time when Chaos Machine really set up shop and changed a few con policies. So I’m happy for Misha that he can speak only about Cas being queer and what the confession means and Cas coming out, but he still has yet to be able to speak in depth about it in major PR. The openness about it comes out on con stage. At first it was non-CE Cons. Then finally he was more able to speak freely on CE Con stages.

Which leads me to another point, which is that, in fact, any of us who thought Cas was supposed to be in the series finale? We were right all along. The PR Misha filmed meant to mislead and misdirect about his last episode…PR misdirect to cover up so it could be a surprise, which makes sense and is sometimes how PR is run. Remember that the production shutdowns of the pandemic happened during the first days of filming 15.19. We found out eventually Dean and Cas were planned to be seen at the Roadhouse bar in Heaven together.

When they filmed 15.18 everyone thought Cas would at least cameo in 15.20. During the filming of 15.18 nobody directly involved knew how far Cas would be shoved out of the story, the actors didn’t know, the writer didn’t know, the director didn’t know, how far 15.20 would be stripped back, no one knew how reduced even mere mentions would be in 15.20.

I’ve talked about this before but a reminder how screwed the spn creatives who worked on 15.18 were, how screwed over the actors were.

You were right. If you thought that there was going to be at least some satisfaction and closure and Cas was going to have one more appearance before the end and it wouldn’t be able to be loud open canon, but something that implied mutual canon Destiel.

We were right. We were right all along.

Antis on twitter dot com can keep scratching and clawing and harassing and gaslighting and spewing phobic comments, denying what Jensen’s views are and dening that corporate censorship is real and that bi Dean is canonical via queer coding and queer Cas is now loud open canon and Destiel is mutual, via canon queer coding. Won’t change what happened here or that the intent was so, so much better and more than what 15.20 delivered, and the reason it fell apart was the production shutdown gave some parties high up too much time to think and then interfere and cut Cas out.

There is no more room to indulge media illiteracy and malicious denialism and trolling from antis.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

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

Word Count: 5754

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

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

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

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

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

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

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

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

“Yeah? Girl got a name?” 

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jo’s lips pinched, still holding out the folder. He took it reluctantly as Jo continued explaining. “And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—”

Dean flipped through it and cut her off. “Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

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

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

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

“Mom!”

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“What's that?” you asked.

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

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

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

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

“Never.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

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

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

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

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

You felt caught. “What?”

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

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

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

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

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No promises.”

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

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

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

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

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

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

“I know, I know.”

***

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

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

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

“Nothing. Empty field.”

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

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

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

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

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

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

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

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

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

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

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” 

“C’mere.” 

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

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

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

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

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

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

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

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

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

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

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

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, why?” she asked.

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

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

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Not right now.”

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

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

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

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

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

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

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

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

“Jo—” Dean tried.

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed.

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

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

[gamblersdoll]

lets give a warm welcome..

“fuck! you like that mama..?” he moans into your ear, mouth breathing on your ear lobe. “im so so close, mamas..” he whines, hips stuttering and frantic.

you moan and arch into his body, nibbling and biting at his neck and collarbone. hes hitting that gummy spot, and hes so needy he’s gotten so handsy all over your body.

he soon spills his load inside you, whimpering into the crook of your neck and relaxing his body to you. eventually after what felt for eternity, he took a warm rag to your seedy pussy, wiping away the cum he loaded you up with. “too warm?” he asks, looking down at you through lidded eyes. you shook your head, reassuring him it was just fine.

he walked into the bathroom, and you looked to his silhouette. he was a work made by gods, such a broad back with hips of a man like no other. he washed his hands under the sink, briefly. “anything you want to eat, sweetheart?” he lowly asks, looking to you.

“hmm… how about.. texas roadhouse?” you ask, craving those butter rolls and the butter the happen to have. you watch him nod, pulling a black hoodie over his head and kisses yours.

“thank you, choso.”

welcome home, choso kamo.

[fandomtherapy44]

Behind the roadhouse Dean x reader

Summary: Y/n has a bit of a crush on Dean but there's kind of a problem. He's a Winchester

paring: Dean x reader

WC:3,081

Warnings: Language, SMUT

Monsters- Vampires, werewolves,ghouls and those aren't even the scary parts of my life. Try to deal with creepy men while working at a bar. Not just any bar, a hunter's bar, my family's bar. My mom Ellen Harville is one of the most badass women you'll ever meet and one of the toughest people but a loving mom. My little half-sister Jo is the other most important person in my life. Well, she’s twenty four so not so little but she will always be to me. My Mom had me with a random hookup she had when she was younger, told him and he took off so when I met Bill I was hesitant but then he became the best father that I ever got and I got a little sister out of the deal too. But then he died in a hunter accident so my mom forbade Jo and I not to hunt but then two sons walked into the bar and a particular Winchester got me not just enthralled with helping people from monsters but in him.

I was wiping down the bar when two tall handsome strangers walked in. “Hey there, welcome to the roadhouse. What can I do for you to get information, a drink, or both?” I finished with a smile mainly focusing on the blonde one. What can I say? I'm a sucker for green eyes. He gives me a flashing smile. “Hey there…” “Y/n” “Y/n, we’re looking for Ellen Harville do you know her?” “I better she’s my mom I’ll be right back.” They both look at each other in confusion. I walk back to the little kitchen. “Hey Mom, two guys are here looking for you.” She gets up and follows me back to them. “Hey there fellows I heard you're looking for me.”

“Uh yeah we’re John Winchester's sons and we got your call.” And the rest flew by so quickly. Ash helped Sam to look up information on the case and while that happened Dean and I had a talk. I poured him a drink and slid it to him. “What’s this for?” I shrugged while sipping a coke. “For your Dad, I'm sorry for your loss.” He took it and shot it back like it was water. “Thanks, you sound like you know the pain.” “My dad passed when I was thirteen so I know how it feels.” My heart panged with pain a little like it did every time I thought of my Dad. “Oh well, I'm sorry for you too, cheers to our dad’s.” We raise our glasses and I'm left with a thought that Dean Winchester doesn't seem like a bad guy.

After that, Sam and Dean would visit us whenever they could and when they needed info. Dean’s and I’s relationship just grew and grew with every late-night talk, pool game, and drink. And it was scaring the shit out of me. I was closing up the bar and Dean and I were having another one of our talks. “Burger or hotdog?” he asks me. “Uh hotdog, is there any other choice.” I playfully responded. “What do you mean hotdog crazy lady?” “So I'm assuming your burger.” I leaned down to his level and he gave me his signature smirk. “Of course.”

With that, he swiped his tongue over his lips while he was staring at me. We both had the same idea we leaned in and to be this close was intoxicating, his breath hot and our noses were touching but my mom did not like our idea. “Dean we are closing for the day.” my mom said from the doorway and we quickly pulled away. “Uh right sorry I'll see you guys later.” He grabbed his jacket and gave me one more look before he walked out. “Mom! What the hell!” “You can not be with that Man!” “Why?” She looked down thinking about something but decided against it. “Just please be careful with those boys.” She turned away before I could ask any more questions.

Dean and Sam had not been back since night. I mean they're busy but it felt personal to me. I tried to forget those butterflies that I got every time I got around Dean but for some reason I couldn't. Every guy that I had been with wasn’t really serious and I was fine with that but then I met Dean and in my locked trunk of hopes in my heart that maybe he was different. And he was. 

It was early in the morning and I was waiting at the table for Jo. She sneakily walks in going to the fridge. I flip on the light. “Late-night snacks sis?” She jumped at me. “Jezze Y/n I thought you were Mom.” I get up and go to the fridge to get a beer. Yes, I did need it to deal with my little sister’s attitude. “No, I'm worse. Mom would go easy on you compared to me.” “Y/n please let me go, I can do this!” I sign and sit down. “Sit down Jo.” she does. “Jo look, the reason I'm like this is because I couldn't bear if anything happened to you like… Dad and mom would agree.”

She looks down at her fiddling hands. “N/n I'm doing this because of Dad you got more time with him all I remember are the short times he came back from hunting. If I can do this I won't feel like I barely know him.” She was right. I couldn't take that away from her if this was her way of feeling closer to our Father then I would have to let her, even if that meant hunting. I sigh deeply, standing up and taking out my knife and handed it to her. “What is this?” “It was Dad’s” She looked up at me like I had given her gold.

“But he gave this to you.” “He did but it was his hunting knife and it's just been sitting in my pocket not doing much hunting so it seems right that you take it.” She jumps up and hugs me tight. “Thank you, thank you.” I pull back to look at her. “You can thank me by sending me the case and the location and call me everyday to make sure you're safe.” She nods her head. “Okay, that’s fair.” We let go. “Okay get out of here before Mom gets up.” She smiles excitedly grabs her bag and practically skips out the door.

She had Ash set up a paper trail of casinos down the state line so Mom wouldn't really know where she was. Mom did not like it but had accepted it. It was about two days in and she finally called me. “Hey, I thought we said every day.” “Sorry, I got distracted.” “By what?” I asked a little confused. “Sam and Dean.” “They're there!” “Yeah I guess we picked up on the same story.” “So you have help good good.” All that was running through my head was Dean. “N/n you okay?” She asked, hearing my pause. “Yes, I am, well call to update me. Love you.” “Love you too sis.” She hung up and I just sat there for a second and the next one I decided what I was going to do.

I walk to the apartment door and knock on it. The door opened and there was Dean. My heart quickens but I play it off cool. “Hey, Dean.” “Hey, Y/n.” He steps aside and I come in. “Y/n what are you doing here?” Jo questioned. “Uh, I wanted to get in and gank this ghost.” “Why didn’t you just come with me in the first place.” That’s a good question and now for a good lie. “I was scared but I fought off the nerves.” That was a shit lie. “Okay well I'll catch you up.” I walk over to the map but not before looking at Dean and he looked back.

We had determined that the ghost was H.H Holmes I know it does sound insane and it is. I was mostly worried about Jo seeing she was exactly Holmes type. We were going to split off in pairs to search but not before I talked to Dean. “Hey” I stepped up to him.”Hey, you ready.” “as I'll ever be.” “Good well I'll be one phone call away.” “I know and if anything happens to Jo-” He put his arm on my shoulder. “It won't.” His eyes are so trusting. “And Dean.” “Mhh.” “You be careful too.” “I will.”

Sam and I were checking upstairs while Jo and Dean went downstairs. “So… did you really want to come.” He asked casually looking around. “Of course, I did for my sister.” He stopped to look at me. “Really that’s what you're going with I mean why not go in the first place and you're scared Y/n I've seen you punch a man square in the face for trying to take your tip.” To be honest I didn't even know myself. “I-” We were rounding the corner and straight into Dean. “Dean Dean!” He kept on walking. “Where’s Jo!” He stopped dead in his tracks and spun to face me. “She was taken.” He keeps on going and I'm frozen.

We were back in the apartment and I kept walking back and forth. We are looking in the blueprints to see where she could be hidden while Dean’s phone rings. It was my Mom. Fear got stricken through my body how would my Mom even look at me? How would I?” “She's gonna have to call you back, she's taking care of, uh, feminine business.” Dean responded back and I thought my lie from before was shit. “Look, we'll get her back.” My heart was thumping.

“The spirit we're hunting, it took her.” I could hear from where I was how worried she was. “She'll be okay, I promise.” “You promise. That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester.” What the fuck does that mean. Dean had the same response. he lowers the phone and hands it to me. “She wants to talk to you.” I shakily take it. “Mom I-” “Dont even how could you let her!” The tears started to fall from my eyes and my face turned red from burning anxiety. “I'm sorry I just wanted her to feel closer to Dad.” “Well, she may be closer than you wanted now!” “You're her big sister!... Im so disapiontted in you.” She hangs up the phone with nothing else. I drop the phone on the bed. “I'll be right back.” I sobily say and run out.

I go out to the alleyway and kick the trashcan out of anger. “AHHH! Fuck!” I punched the wall and in my anger, and I had forgotten it was made out of brick. My knuckles started trickling blood and I slumped down the wall just feeling defeated. A pair of boots showed up in front of me. “Hey” I looked up and it was Dean. “Hey,” I respond softly my voice feeling raw. He sat down next to me. “We're going to find her N/n” I wipe my eyes.

“I shouldn't have let her go she was so desperate to feel something to our dad that I let her go… I'm so stupid.” I put my head in my crossed arms against my knees. “You are not stupid, you're a good sister.”  I dryly chuckle at myself. “I'm a sister who let her only sibling go hunting when I knew the danger.”  He sighs. “When I was sixteen and Sam was twelve we were hunting and I let him go look on by himself a ghost almost killed him.” I turn my head at him.

“Uh, no offense Dean but pep talk sucked.” “I not done the reason he didn't die is because he remembered what I had taught him and he had his tools not just weapons but knowledge and he was ready so is Jo she fine she has an amazing sister looking for her.” I wipe my tears and throw myself in his arms and he catches me. He pets my head in comfort I whisper. “Thank you.” We split apart really close. He leans forward pur noses touching. Then Sam comes running towards. “UH guys I think I know where she is.”

She and the other missing girl had been in a storm drain. When had trapped H.H. ghost and Jo and I got topside. She threw her arms around me. “Are you ok!?” I put my hands on her face. “No no I'm fine just some scratches.” She took out Dad's pocketknife. “This protected me. So thank you.” “Anytime sis.” The boys get out of the drain. Sam and Jo go off to talk and that leaves Dean and I alone. “So….” He starts. I Bear hug him. “Thank you for helping save my sister.” “Of course.” This time I'm going do it. I grab his face and he accepts it, “Ah am.” I look behind him and it's my mom I'm so tried of people fucking cock blocking me.

The ride home let's just say that Christmas with a stepmom twenty years old is more comfortable. We get to the roadhouse and Mom practically drags us in. “Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo and Y/n did good out there, I think their dad would be proud.” Dean tried to reason. “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughters. Alone.” The boys leave. “You're angry. I understand.” Jo started.

“Angry? Angry doesn't begin to touch it.” I mean I know why she’s angry with me but Sam and Dean? “Is this about me hunting, or something else?” I tried “Mom they were right there, backing us up the whole time.” “Like father, like sons.” “Mom what the fuck is that suppose to mean.” “I’m sorry I shouldn't have said anything.” Both Jo and I look at each other. “Mom what are you not telling us.” 

I went on a little walk after I learned what happened I guess Jo talked to them about it but my emotions were all over the place. Jo and I had a talk which ended in crying and a hug. I didn't know how to feel especially now with Dean.

I was taking the trash out behind the roadhouse when I turned it was Dean. “Ahh Fuck! Dean, I almost threw this trash bag full of dirty napkins at you.” “Yeah shaking in my boots.” We just had a silent silence. “Look I just wanted to say sorry.” I was puzzled. “Why are you sorry?” “Because of my dad.” “Dean that wasn't your… fault.” He steps closer. “I know, but my dad's not here and I am so I'm sorry that Will is not here because of him.” I drop the trash and I kiss him. I didn't care at that moment that my clothes were covered in grease stains and a mix between blood and beer I had to. His lips were a little chapped but still were soft as a cloud. Our lips separated slowly. “I'm sorry I just..” His hands were on my hips now. “Had to.” He finished. 

18+ SMUT……

“I have about thirty minutes before my mom comes looking for me so do you wanna do this ?” He grabbed me and backed me to the wall. “Oh, I wanna do this I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” “Dean you-” I didn't get to finish my sentence before he kissed me again. And yes it was heaven. His tongue starts to prod my lips and I let him in. “Mhh Dean.” “You like that.” “Yes,” I said practically moaning. “How about this.” he goes down my neck slowly sucking on my sweet spots. “You are too good at that Dean.”

“Yeah, hopefully I'm good at this too.” He unbuttons my shirt slowly and kisses down my stomach. To my pants. “This okay.” He was on his knees his hands on my pants band. “Yes.” He pulled down my pants. Grabbed my panties with my teeth to easily pull down. He starts to kiss my inside thigh. “Oh my gosh.” I throw my hand to the wall to steady myself. He kitten licks my slit. “Ahh” He then puts his tongue in me. “Ohh Fuck Dean!” He goes fully in and eats me out like a madman. I am so close. I grab onto his shoulder and grip it tightly. “Just let go honey.” I did and he lapped it up.

“Oh my gosh did you go to school for that.” I breathily let out. “Yeah, I majored in it.” I chuckle and my hand goes to his pants. “Do you want me to return the favor?” He takes my hand. “I would love that but we have about ten minutes left and I want to show you why I graduated at the top of my class.” I nod and he unbuckles his pants and drops them. I look down and his shaft is standing proud. He pulled down his underwear and it was bigger than I expected. “You ready sweetness.”

“Always.” He gently grabs my head kisses me again and starts grinding against me. He then slips in. “Ahh Dean!” “Tell me when I can move,” It feels a little burning but then it turns into pleasure. “Dean you can move.” He goes in and out moving slowly. “Y/n you feel so good.” He grabs onto my hips to pull me up onto around his hips. He thrusts in and out faster and faster. He breaths into my neck and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I'm almost there are you Y/n” “Yes!” “Let's do it together!” He moves down to rub my clit. “Ahh fuck!” “Ok, one two three!” And we did. He pulled out his cock dripping with our fluids together. I then realized the time. “Dean I loved that but you have to go.” he grabs me one more time to leave a sweet kiss. “I'll call you.” “You better Dean Winchester.” He gathers himself and leaves. I didn't know where that left us but at least we would always have behind the roadhouse.

[ufcconor]

Come on, baby

Knox x F!Reader

(Y/n) Brandt has a history with her fathers most trustworthy hit man

SMUT SMUT SMUT

Getting the call from Gerald Brandt was a surprise to say the least. “Knox, I need you!” “What do you need?” Gerald screams into the phone, “Knox, my Idiot son is fucking things up!” “I’ll leave right away.” “And Knox, look after (y/n).” Knox pauses, excitement brewing in him. “You know I will.”

~

I see a man walking down the dock to the shitty houseboat named so cleverly “The Boat”. I sit up from my chair, holding onto my hat in the low wind as the boat rocks in the water. “That’s the new bouncer at the roadhouse Ben keeps going on about?�� The smirk grows on my lips. My friend meets my gaze, staring at the man as he steps onto the boat and shamelessly begins to work out in the sun. “He’s hot.” I lean on the railing.

I wave my hand towards him as my boat sails by. “Looking good over there!” He stops mid-sit up and waves with a small smile before continuing his set. My friend scoffed with a smile. “I'm assuming you’re taking a trip down to the bar tonight.” I shrug sitting back in my hair and sipping my margarita. “Might be.”

I walk into the bar and scan the scene. The music is upbeat, and the people seem to be calm… for now at least. I allow my eyes to scan the entire place until I see him. Sitting at the bar, and quietly observing. I walk to him and take the seat directly beside him. I smile at the bartender, “Rum and coke please.”

The man beside me smirks as I mindlessly pat my fingers on the bar looking around. I meet his eyes and drop my jaw dramatically. “Well, what are the chances? Hey there handsome.” “My name’s Dalton.” I shake his hand, “(y/n). Nice to see you again. Shirt on this time, but we can work on that.”

Night after night I’d go to the roadhouse and sit with Dalton. Flirting and talking, were all fun. When there was an issue he’d get up, handle it with some sarcastic banter and strong punches, and then he’d be back beside me with a cheeky smile as if nothing happened. I like a man who can handle himself. He was a sweet guy to top it off. He definitely shouldn’t be the one to be here taking care of this matter. He shouldn’t have to be the one to deal with my idiot brother and his schemes.

~

I put six sandwiches on a plate and exit the home to the back patio. “Sandwiches are on the bar!” I yell to the boys as I sit down in a chair, opening my book. Not long after I gained inner peace, a loud collision struck right in front of the house. I tear my shades off as a figure enters. “Who the fuck put those bikes in my way?” I watch as Knox strolls in. “Who the fuck are you?” Clyde asks. Knox raises his hand to his face, “Shh.”

He walks to the bar and praises the leftover sandwiches. “Thank you, God. Sandwiches. I’m fucking famished.” He bites into the bread with a growl.

This can not be happening. I was set on the fact that I would not have to see this asshole ever again. The memories flash so quickly. A day full of shopping. The 4 bottles of wine at the most expensive restaurant in Rome. Romantic walks down the streets. Long nights full of him showering me with endless pleasure.

Moe bursts in quickly, “He knocked all the fucking bikes over!” I roll my eyes going back to my book. I’d rather not be involved in whatever the hell he’s doing. I turn the page in my book trying to focus on the words cascading down the page but I can feel his eyes burning onto my frame. Clyde towers over him. “Now you got a big ass problem, bucko.”

Knox nods, mouth full, “No shit! First off, I’m going to need more than 3 sandwiches.”

“I wasn’t done talking.” Clyde cuts Knox off.

Knox glares at Clyde, meeting his gaze with power. “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong, lad.” He pushes past Clyde and nears my chair. He stands next to me, looking down at me. I put my book down with a huff. Knox smiles, “What darlin’? Not a word for me? Thought you’d be happy to see me.” I stand up, bumping his arm as I walk past him.

Knox plops down in my seat, lounging back. “Aye, baby. Are you going to make me some more sandwiches or what?” I flip him off as I slam the door shut. “Stupid mother fucking Irish asshole.”

I tear my bathing suit off in a rush. Why the fuck has he come here? Something to do with my father no doubt. I step into the shower trying to calm my nerves, trying to burn out the heat that ignites in my core. He always had this effect on me. I can't help but remember the night.

I lay back on the couch, my dress hugged my body tightly. Knox saunters over with another glass of wine for me. “Mhh thank you,” I mumble out. He takes a seat next to me. I lay my legs over his thighs, beginning to look over his entire frame. He was big (no doubt everywhere). I run my foot over his crotch. He narrows his gaze at me. “Nah, lassie. That’s not in the cards for you.” He grabs my ankles putting my motions to a stop. I sigh before standing, rolling the wine into my glass. “I thought you were fun.” I lean down to my phone, putting some music on. I sway my hips, my back facing Knox. I down my glass of wine, turning around and arching my back on the wall. His eyes glued to my frame, his orbs burning into mine. I take a step forward, lowering the zipper of my dress with each step. I stand in front of him, zipper completely down, the dress hanging loosely. I lean down, my hands on his shoulders. “Still not in the cards? Even for me?” Knox chuckles, forcing his eye contact to the wall. “You father would have my ass, baby.”

I stand straight again. “Hm, that’s a shame.” I let the straps of the dress off my shoulders, it cascades down to the marble floor delicately. Only clad in my panties and expensive heels I turn away from him, leaving the dress at his feet.

“Fuckin hell.” He mumbles.

Before I know it I’m tossed onto the bed and Knox is kissing up my body and pampering my exposed breast with kisses and bites.

Soon his fingers pumping deliciously in and out of my heat. I arch up with a loud cry as an orgasm races through me. “There's a good girl."

I splash water onto my face. I can’t allow myself to get tangled in with him again. There’s nothing there but an empty promise. I know the bed will be cold by morning.

I step out of the shower and dry my body with the towel before hanging said towel up on the door. I bent over, flipping my head over to start drying my wet hair.

“I always did adore this side of you, love.”

I shoot up and turn around. “What the fuck!” I snatch my towel off the door and hold it up in front of me. “Get out!” He doesn’t. Instead, he walks closer causing me to back up until I hit the countertop. He places his arms on either side of me, making a chance for an easy escape difficult.

He bites his lip looking at my poorly hidden body. He catches the hem of the towel in his fingers. “Why don’t we catch up?” I look at him with wide eyes and anger boiling in my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Knox sucks in a breath. “Now listen, I know how it looked back then.” I scoff and push him away. He doesn’t fight me and allows me to pass. “Hate to see you go, but I love seeing you walk away, baby.” I enter my bedroom and with one last glance at Knox, I slam the door shut.

~

Ben walks into the back patio and sees Knox sitting in a tanning chair, eating a plate of sandwiches. “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” Knox nods, “Hey. I got a message for you. From your father.” He stands facing Ben.

Bem furrows his brow, “A message? My father? And what… What is this “message”?” Knox pops Ben in the nose quickly before tossing his arm over his shoulders. “You’re Ben, right? Jerry’s son?” He chuckles removing himself. Knox admires the house. He points to the pool shed. “This is where I’ll store my stuff. And that master bedroom up there is mine. Move your sister's shit in with mine. You can take her room.” Ben shakes his head, confusion clouds his mind. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

Knox grabs a golf club. “Your dad says you’ve been fucking things up.” He turns to Ben, who backs away. “He asked me to lend a hand.”

Ben scoffs, “How would my father know? He’s in a prison, rotting in a cell.” “Don’t be silly. Your father has spies everywhere.”

“Well, you can tell my father…” Ben starts but gets cut off by his sister (y/n) coming out. “Where are you going?” She rolls her eyes. “Why do you care?” She takes a step and Ben grabs her arm. Knox straightens up, anger brewing within him. No one gets to touch her.

“Is it the road house? To see your little boyfriend?” (Y/n) rips his arm off, “Believe it or not but I’m actually likable unlike you.” She walks off. “Don’t go to that fucking bar, (y/n)!” She turns around with a smirk. “Or what?” Knox watches her such as predator watches their prey. Fire brewed within his chest at the thought of some other man touching her, touching what he had claimed.

Ben runs his fingers through his hair, frustration existing on his face. “She’s such a pain in my ass.” He turns back to Knox. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help. I have it all under control.”

“No, you don’t.” Knox swings the club, making Ben back away again. “Yes, I have people out there right now… cleaning up this final issue, and that’s all…” Knox ignored Ben’s confident plan. “So, where’s this bouncer asshole?”

~

I enter the road house and move to the corner expecting to see Dalton but to my surprise, he’s nowhere in sight. Laura slides my drink over. “He’s late.” I furrow my brow. “That’s a first.”

An hour later Dalton comes in looking a little disheveled. He sits beside me taking a breath. “Hey.” “Hey, what’s going on?” He shakes his head. “Had a little mix-up with the sheriff.” I cringe internally, “A mix-up?” My brothers doing. Laura leans over conserved. “What are we talkin’ about?”

A surprising guest speaks a few seats away. “Yeah, what are we talking about?” Ben walks over, taking the seat next to me. “Hey, sis. Thought I told you to stay home.” Ben averts his attention from me. “I’m curious to hear what you were gonna tell her, Dalton. I’m Ben Brandt. (Y/n)‘s brother.”

Dalton smirks, “Let me guess. It’s your turn now.” “My turn?” “You know, to threaten me. Tell me to get out of town. Like your buddy, Big Dick.” Ben chuckled. “No. No, I get the impression that you can’t be threatened.

I wish you could be, but… I’d even bribe you if I thought money would work.” Dalton nods, “Really? How much we talking?”

“Ben, can you just fuck off?” He turns to me, anger in his eyes. “(Y/n) doesn’t it make you curious what an outsider like him… thinks he’s doing here.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know, Ben. Nor do I care. Just get the fuck out of here.”

Ben ignores me again. “So, I guess my question is… Why? Right? It can’t be just some competitive thing, you…you’ve won the fight. You can back off now. But you… you don’t. You just keep… punching and punching and punching. So, why? Why don’t you just stop?” Dalton stays silent causing Ben to exit like a toddler, anger blowing from his ears.

Dalton raises a brow. “Your brother, huh?” “I like to think I’m adopted.” The door opens and Knox strolls in with the bikers behind him. I watch as Knox scans the room making eye contact with me.

Knox strolls around, picking at two separate tables. “Hey, fellas. Looks like you’re havin’ a smashing night!” He swings the golf club smashing every bottle and glass off their table. Knox successfully starts the bar fight and chaos consumes the entire building.

“Dalton! Dalton! Dalton!” Knox screams as he scans the room. I stand up and walk towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Knox chuckled, lowering his head, our noses brushing. “A lot of shit. You wanna try to fix me?” His smirk grows.

“Dalton! Dalton!” On-demand, Dalton yells from the top of the steps. “What?” Knox looks over him as if inspecting. He tosses his head back. “This is the guy?” He asks me, I can see jealousy glowing in his eyes. “Leave him alone, Knox.”

He points to Dalton. “You know, I got sent here special. Just for you.” Dalton stays calm, taking a glance around the chaotic scene. “And you brought all your friends with you?” “I thought you might miss havin’ an audience. I was trying to be thoughtful. Like on pay-per-view. 25 quid. Watch me pulp your face!” Panic pumps through my veins. “You can’t fucking do this, Knox.”

Dalton stands a few feet away now. “You know this guy too?” Knox smirks and looks at me, waiting for my answer. “He’s my father’s employee.” Knox places his hand on his chest, acting like his feelings are damaged. “Aww come on, baby. Don’t be like that.“ He takes my chin between his fingers, his face inches from mine. “How do I know that you squeal when having your pussy eaten just, hm? Right here.” Knox sticks his hand down to my clothed crotch and pats my pelvic bone lightly. I gasp and move away from him. The act so bold in a public setting had my cheeks glowing red and a pool between my legs.

Dalton grabs Knox and shoves it away. “Don’t touch her, man.” Knox smiles at Dalton. “Nah, mate. You don’t get to touch her! SHE’S MINE!” Knox swings his club at Dalton hitting him in the stomach, before punching him and starting a brawl between the two.

I follow some of the bikers outside as they file out. “What the fuck was that?” I scream at Dell. “Stop it, (y/n). You know Brandt wants the road house.” I roll my eyes, “a shitty bar? For real?” I turn on my heel to walk back into the bar, but Knox catches my upper arm and pulls me to his car. “Let go of me, Knox.” He opened the passenger door and oh so helpfully assisted me in. “You and me. We’re going to have a little chit-chat.” He fumes. He’s angry. He flies off, tearing up gravel as he speeds out of the lot. He maneuvers through traffic, passing cars at high speed. “If you slow down we won’t live long enough to talk,” Knox smirks at me. “Ah baby, I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours, truly.”

Knox drifts into a lonely dock and slams the door as he gets out. “Let’s go.” Knox strips his shirt and shoes. I step out and lean against the front of the car, the sand damp on my feet.

Knox shakes his finger at me. “This ain’t you. Where’d my girl go?” I glare at him, “Maybe she’s back in Rome where you ditched her two years ago.” Knox, only a couple feet away smiles again. “All that? Baby you know your father had me running around for him.” “You left me alone with no explanation. You dipped that morning and never spoke to me again.” Knox nods, “Yeah, I did. That’s what your father told me to do.” “Yeah, and you always do what he says huh? Like a dog.”

Knox drops his smile. “And what have you been doing? You used to listen like a good girl. Now look at ya. Fucking around with these assholes.”

“Better than you.”

Knox grabs my arm pulling me to him. “Aww, now I see it. You’ve not been fucked real good in a long time. That it?” I raise my hand and slap him across the face. He pauses for a moment before a dark smirk grows across his lips. “There’s my tiger.”

Fuck it. This is toxic as hell.

I wrap my arms around his broad body, attacking his mouth. He holds me up, holding our bodies as close as possible. Our tongues battling, the passion seeping from each other's mouths. The clawing and scratching of our hands. He kisses down my neck, running his tongue over my collarbones. The hot breeze sticks to the moist surface. He pushes me back onto the hood of the car. “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, but first…” he flips the hem of my dress over my thighs, and separates them. “I need to taste ya.”

He kisses the soft skin of my inner thighs. A drunken state unraveled within me. Knox pulls my panties down, taking a look at my private. He nestled between my thighs, "Such a pretty cunt. How did I ever let you out of my sight?" The praises leaving his mouth caused me to gasp. I am unable to speak, unable to ask if he wanted to do this out here, on the beach, given any surprise visitor. All I could do was moan and arch my back onto the cold surface of the car. My heart was racing, blood rushing, toes being forced to curl.

His tongue brushed through my folds, collecting drops of the hot arousal. He moaned against my cunt, sucked on the pulsing bundle of nerves. “Knox," the call of his name made him chuckle against my skin. I had never known such pleasures besides him. I was already close to letting go, his mouth latching onto my clit, once again leaving me to arch her back off the hood. "Let go for me, darling."

With another breathy moan, I release, eyes rolling back into my head, fingernails about to claw stripes into the pain of the car. He lazily licked my slit for a few more seconds before he pulled away, moving up her body to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Knox, fuck me please," I whined, looking into his eyes, pleading. He smiled and followed my order within seconds.

My legs lay wide open for him to enter and while his hands hold my waist tightly. He shoved himself up my pussy with such an ease.

"You feel perfect, angel. Nothing changed." he moaned, his moves quickened fast. Noises of skin slapping against skin filled the area. "So fucking good" Knox panted in between harsh thrusts. My lower body just perfectly crashed together with his. I was in heaven as I felt myself coming closer and closer to my end. "I'm gonna cum." | whimpered so quietly that he could barely hear it. “You're the only man who can make me feel this good,” I whined, I was all his.

His movements grew slower, and he heavily breathed into my face. “You’re mine, (y/n).” I was so close, my body was burning. I nod breathlessly, “I’m all yours.” Waves of an orgasm beautifully crashed in, and it was only a matter of seconds before I would cum.

"Good girl." Knox panted and I knew he was about to cum. His hand wandered to my clit and circled it at a fast, pleasuring pace. That was it. I felt my orgasm finally coming in and I let out a loud moan. Knox growled into my neck and bit into my shoulder as he came right after me, releasing all of his warm cum inside me. He kept moaning and growling into my skin, both of us exhausted and in a blissful state. His body was limp on mine.

We laughed into each other's faces and after a moment of silence and just looked at each other. He moved over to his car, retrieving a blanket. “What are you doing?” I ask still lying in bliss. He spread the blanket on the sand. “A night under the stars. What do ya say, lass?” He picks me up and lays us down on the soft blanket. His hands went over my back, and it sent shivers down my spine. In this moment the world was perfect.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

This Sure as Hell Never Happened on Scooby-Doo

While investigating a fairly routine haunting in a Michigan hotel, Sam and Dean come face to face with a creature unlike any they've faced before. [Takes place around mid season 1 for SPN, and at a non-specific point in the DP timeline]

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 7: Supernatural | Veil

First off, congrats to Supernatural for finally making the main prompt list after two years of being an honorable mention lol. I had a lot of trouble coming up with an idea for this one for some reason, so it ended up being kind of generic. This is, however, the first time I've ever written the Full Hazmat AU, which was pretty exciting.

AO3 Link

[Warning for minor violence, and references to suicide throughout]

As a general rule, hunters steered clear of Amity Park, although the reason why varied from one to another.

Some believed all the so-called supernatural occurrences there were just a hoax, like Bigfoot, so there was no point wasting valuable time and energy looking into them. Others swore up and down that, hoax or not, there was something about that town that made you see things. Impossible things. Things that made even the most experienced hunters pause. Some simply believed that Amity Park could take care of itself. Outside interference would only cause more problems than it would solve.

Then there were those who believed that Amity Park, that the very town itself, didn't want them there. That hunters were just not welcome.

The town was infamous in the hunter community. Grizzled, plaid-wearing men would talk about it at roadhouses and truck-stop diners. They'd warn other people away, tell them not to even drive through it on their way to somewhere else. There was nothing in that town worth dying for, and they took care of their own. Hunters weren't needed, they weren't wanted, and they'd just do better if they stayed away.

Every once in a while though, Amity Park's unique brand of freaky bled out of that isolated town. And when it did, then it became the hunters' problem. Unfortunately, more often than not, they wouldn't know it until it was too late.

Sam and Dean were investigating a supposedly haunted hotel. Staff and guests they'd spoken to had all reported blinking lights, cold spots, scratching in the walls. The staff seemed content to blame it on the owner's unwillingness to spend money to fix or update anything. The guests, on the other hand, not so much.

Those who stayed overnight reported horrible nightmares about bleeding out from their wrists. Some of them even claimed to have seen things, although they couldn't seem to agree on what they saw. A few saw a woman, covered in blood from slit writs, and crying, who vanished in the blink of an eye. But another claimed to have seen a small figure in a partially melted hazmat suit.

"Could there be more than one?" Sam asked when they'd returned to their own room in the hotel.

It was more expensive than the crappy motels they usually stayed it, but it was more convenient, and it gave them an excuse to wander around if they were actually staying there.

"Maybe, but... I don't know. If someone committed suicide in the hotel, it makes sense that their spirit would linger," Dean said. "I just can't think of any reason why there would be a ghost in a hazmat suit. Can you?"

"If the building used to be some kind of lab or research facility, it's possible," Sam said, "But this hotel was established back in the late thirties, and even if there was a research facility here before the hotel, the hazmat suit he described was much more modern than they would have worn back then."

Dean scoffed as he plopped down on his bed.

"Of course, leave it to my nerd brother to know what hazmat suits looked like in the thirties," Dean mocked. "Seriously though, that second ghost just doesn't make any kind of sense."

"We'll know more once we find info about anyone whose died in this hotel," Sam said. "This place has been in business for almost seventy years, I'm sure we'll have plenty to wade through."

"It could have been that guy was just making up a story," Dean said. "We've got three people claiming they saw a woman who disappeared, but only one mentioned the hazmat suit. Maybe he was messing with us."

"He seemed pretty shaken up about it," Sam said. "I didn't think he was lying."

"I didn't either, but...." Dean shook his head thoughtfully. "Something about that story just doesn't sit right. And you know what else? That redheaded girl who got all defensive when we started acting questions. Something doesn't sit right about her, either. She acted like she was responsible, or trying to protect the person who was. Except we already know this is a haunting. We know there's at least one ghost, so why did she act like that?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Could be she was trying to hide something else."

"Maybe...."

"Come on," Sam said. "Let's start by combing through local death records at the library."

"You go ahead," Dean told him. "I wanna talk to that girl's parents, see if they know anything. I'm starting to think there might be more to this case than just a standard haunting."

"Fine. We'll meet back here later."

—

"So, what'd you find?" Dean asked when his brother got back to their room.

"Okay, so get this," Sam began. "There have been several deaths in this hotel. A couple of heart attacks, a couple of accidents. One guy fell out his window, which caused the hotel to seal all the windows on the upper floors shut so they couldn't be opened. There have also been three suicides since the hotel's founding.

"A World War 2 vet shot himself in the head in December of 1945, just a few months after the war ended; A girl OD'ed in 1963, leaving a note about how the state of the world had made her unwilling to live in it; and lastly, a woman in 1992 slit her wrists in room 201 after her husband divorced her, blaming her for the murder of their only son."

"Sounds like we've ID'ed our first ghost," Dean noted. "We got a name?"

"Jennifer Bishop," Sam said. "She was accused of murdering her son, but never convicted because they never actually found the body, only a whole lot of blood they identified with DNA testing. She defended her innocence until her death, but the police never actually investigated anyone else for her son's disappearance and presumed death. Once she offed herself, they just closed the case."

"Another gold standard of police incompetence," Dean said. "Did you find out where she was buried?"

"Her family was catholic, but since she committed suicide, they couldn't bury her in their family plot at their church. Instead, she was buried in a public cemetery, Lincoln Memorial Park... but it's in her hometown: Petoskey, Michigan. She was only here for the trial."

"Great, so we gotta drive all night to get to friggin' Petoskey," Dean moaned. "Awesome. This is why hotel ghosts suck. Did you find any leads on hazmat suit?"

"Nothing. What about you?" Sam asked. "Get anything useful interviewing that red-headed girl's parents?"

"Nah," Dean said, shaking his head. "Remember those hellhoundslair dorks?"

Sam nodded.

"That's what they were like," he continued. "Overenthusiastic, but incompetent. She probably realized we were asking about ghosts and was nervous they'd overhear. While I was talking to them she reminded them they'd promised not to hunt any ghosts while their family was on vacation. They didn't seem too happy about that, but they at least stopped insisting they'd help me 'catch that slippery specter', so that was something, I guess.

"I did learn she has a younger brother, though. I didn't get to talk to him, but when I was leaving, I overheard the two kids talking, and he said something like, 'there's not enough of her there to talk to', and 'there's not a whole lot left of her at all," Dean finished. "Not sure what that was all about, but it seemed like they were trying to keep it on the down-low, especially from their parents."

"You think it could be related?" Sam asked.

"As far as I know, the brother never promised not to hunt ghosts," Dean replied with a shrug. "That and a gut feeling are pretty much all I have to base it on, though."

"Well, we know who our suicide is, at least," Sam said. "One of us should go take care of Jennifer Bishop while the other stays here in case she starts causing anymore trouble, or in case the hazmat ghost shows up again, if its even real."

"Why don't you take the salt-and-burn this time," Dean suggested.

Sam froze and looked at his brother, completely shocked. "You... want me to take your car and drive two hundred miles away... by myself?"

"And if you bring her back with so much as a scratch on her, I'll make you wish you were never born," Dean said. "But I feel like there's something at this hotel that I'm missing, and I'm gonna stick around until I figure it out."

"It's really bugging you, huh?" Sam noted. "Alright, well... it's a three hour drive, so I'd better get going."

"Yeah, and don't forget to fill up the tank on your way back."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said as he walked out the door.

They'd already brought some weapons from the trunk into the hotel room, so Dean wouldn't be unarmed if he ran into one of the ghosts.

He did some quick math in his head. The ghost, or ghosts, probably wouldn't show up until it was night. Sam had a six-hour round trip, plus a good hour to dig up old Jennifer, probably longer, since he wouldn't have help. It was early afternoon now. 1:18 pm, a glance at the clock told him, so he could expect Sam back around nine-ish, give or take an hour. Sunset was around seven.

Jennifer would be gone well before nightfall... but that other ghost... if it even existed, they didn't have a single lead on it.

Dean headed down to the lobby.

He'd noticed them yesterday, a group of older ladies with a basket of yarn in the middle of them, chatting up a storm. He and Sam hadn't spoken to them yesterday, but now that Sam was gone, it was time for Dean to dial up a very particular type of charm that Sam would tease him for mercilessly if he ever saw it. He stood nearby, waiting for his moment.

"I swear," one lady said. "I turned up my thermostat four times last night. I had it cranked all the way up to ninety, and I could hear the radiator groaning like anything, but my room was still freezing."

"Did you phone the concierge?" another lady said.

"I tried, but they just apologized and said it's an old hotel," replied the first. "Didn't even offer to send a handyman, or move me to a different room or anything. Anyway, that's why started coming down here during the day. I just can't stand it."

That was his chance. "You too?" he asked her. "Which room are you in?"

"I'm in 201, why?"

Bingo. 201. The same room as their suicide victim.

"Well, it got to a point where I got my tools outta my car and just fixed the darn radiator myself," Dean lied. "I could take a look at yours too, if you'd like."

"Would you?" she asked, sounding beyond relieved. "Oh, thank you so much. It's gotten so bad I can hardly sleep at night, so that would be a real godsend if you would do that. You're such a lamb."

"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am," Dean said, taking an empty seat nearby. "The name's Dean, by the way."

"I'm Millie," the woman said. "And these are my friends, Cathy and Debbie. We're in town for a big doll convention. We're collectors, you know. And Debbie even makes dolls herself out of felt."

"I do, and I've gotten pretty damn good at it, if I say so myself," Debbie said. "I even made a felt baby doll for my granddaughter's birthday a few months back and she was over the moon."

Upon closer inspection, all three of the ladies seemed to be knitting or crocheting very small clothes, presumably for dolls. Hopefully he could redirect the topic of conversation back to ghosts soon, because Dean didn't know Jack about dolls.

"What about you?" asked the third woman, Cathy. "What brings you to Lansing? I assume you don't live here, or you wouldn't be staying at a hotel."

"I'm here on business," he replied, silently thanking god that she'd changed the topic for him.

"What kind of business?" Millie asked. "You said you can fix a radiator, are you some kind of technician, or construction worker?"

"Actually... I'm a private investigator," he lied.

"Oooh, exciting!" Cathy said. "What are you investigating?"

"I'm afraid I can't share the details... but maybe you ladies could help me," he said. "Have any of you seen anything strange while you've been staying here?"

"I saw a man dancing near the park who could clasp his hands behind his back and pull them all the way in front of him," Debbie said. "That was pretty strange. I gave him a dollar."

"I was thinking more like in the hotel," Dean said. "Maybe like... a figure in a hazmat suit?"

Millie gasped, and Dean fixed his gaze on her.

"You have?"

"Well... you see, I have sleep paralysis," she said. "Last night, I had only managed to fall asleep for an hour or two because it was so cold, but then I woke up in the middle of the night because my room suddenly got even colder, but I couldn't move, of course. It takes me a while to be able to move after I wake up.

"And then I saw, like you said, someone wearing a hazmat suit, a black one with white gloves. They were small, like they weren't fully grown, and they were glowing," Millie explained. "Their suit was damaged, partly melted, it looked like. I'd never seen something like that before, but I just figured it had to be a sleep paralysis hallucination, and maybe it partly was, but do you think it could have been real? That someone broke into my room last night?"

"How frightening," Debbie said with a shiver.

"Maybe," Dean said. "Maybe not. I'm not really sure yet." He paused, consideringly. That was two people now who saw the hazmat suit, and this one saw it in the same room where the other ghost had died. "Did it say anything to you? Or do anything that you saw?"

"I couldn't really turn my head, but they seemed like they were looking for something, didn't seem to find it though. Nothing was missing from my room when I finally got up, at least," Millie said. "They didn't say anything, and only looked at me for a moment. Oh! But they might've been muttering something. Not sure what it was, though."

"Thanks, that's a lot of help," Dean said. "If you think of anything else, let me know?"

"Do you think I'm in danger?" Millie asked. "Should I request a room change after all?"

"If that would make you feel safer," Dean said. "I'm not sure it's as cut and dry as a break-in... but maybe you should just stay in one of your friend's rooms for a night."

"You can stay in my room tonight, Millie," Cathy volunteered.

He stayed for a little while, chatting with them. It wasn't something he wanted getting out, but old ladies always loved him for some reason. He even managed to get Cathy's key-lime pie recipe, which the other two swore up and down was absolutely to die for. Who knew when the next time he'd have a kitchen to try it out would be, but he'd make sure to write it down next chance he got, just in case.

It wasn't until he saw that red-haired teenage girl and a short, black-haired boy who was presumably her brother walk through the lobby that he excused himself to follow after them, claiming they were persons of interest in his case.

"If you didn't find anything, how did you even know it was the right room?" the sister was asking when Dean got close enough to hear.

He was trying hard not to be noticed while he tailed them, but as quietly as they were talking, he had to stick closer than he would have liked.

"That was where her presence was the strongest," the brother answered. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to help her when she's not strong enough to speak, and we're leaving tomorrow, so tonight is my last chance."

Could he be a psychic of some kind? Maybe a medium?

He turned around abruptly, and Dean barely had time to make it look like he was examining a shop's window display of... glass baubles and nick-knacks. Oh, yeah, he definitely seemed like the type to be interested in those. Hopefully they wouldn't question it.

"Is he staying at our hotel?" the brother whispered.

"Yeah," the sister confirmed, "and he was asking about cold spots and flickering lights, too. You think he knows something?"

"I think I'd rather stay away from him," replied the brother. "He could be the dangerous type."

After that, it seemed like the kids were deliberately trying to shake him, and it wasn't long before they did, almost as if they'd simply vanished into thin air.

Dean gave up searching and returned to the hotel. He found Millie in the lobby and asked if she'd let him into her room to fix the radiator, even brought the few tools that he'd had in his room to make the story more convincing.

"Even if you don't stay in here tonight, I figure I can at least do the hotel a favor," he said.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," she said. "Don't you go snooping around in my underwear drawer," she teased, and he laughed along with her until she closed the door behind her and headed back downstairs to her knitting.

Any evidence that there had been a suicide in this room had been long since erased. It was cold, just as Millie said it was, but there didn't appear to be any problem with the radiator. One of the tools he'd brought along was an iron crowbar, and he gripped it tightly.

"Jennifer, you in here?" he called out.

The time was 5:06, meaning Sam was probably digging up her grave right now.

He got no response.

"Jennifer?" he called again. "Jennifer Bishop?"

Nothing.... he was pretty sure that kid had been saying she wasn't a very powerful ghost, maybe that was why she hadn't done much. She hadn't actually killed or even hurt anyone beyond a couple of nightmares and a cold room. Maybe she couldn't show herself during the day.

The Winchester brothers had only stopped here because they happened to be so close by when Sam read an article that claimed guests at this hotel had seen apparitions, and experienced horrible nightmares about a woman slitting their wrists. But the nightmares weren't actually killing anybody. Normally, they wouldn't have even bothered, but they were only a few miles away, and nothing else was close by.

Dean opened his mouth to call out one more time, but before he could, there was a flash of light and a distant-sounding screen, and he watched as the ghost of Jennifer Bishop appeared and almost instantaneously disappeared.

One down. One to go.

And wow was this room suddenly sweltering. Millie wasn't kidding about turning her thermostat up to ninety. Dean adjusted it to a much more reasonable 74°F, and left to go tell Millie he'd fixed her radiator.

After she was done thanking him, he headed up to his room and called Sam.

"Dean?" Sam said. "I took care of Jennifer Bishop."

"I know, I saw her burn up," Dean replied. "Nicely done. Anyway, I got some new info about our second ghost."

"Yeah? Let's hear it."

"The lady staying in the room where Jennifer offed herself said she saw a glowing figure in a hazmat suit in her room, thought it was a sleep paralysis thing until I brought it up. She said it seemed like it was looking for something, but it didn't seem to find anything."

"So we have a second witness for our hazmat ghost," Sam said. "And the description lined up?"

"Exactly," Dean confirmed. "I also have a new theory about those siblings, the red-headed girl and her brother. I think the brother might be a psychic, and was looking for a way to help Jennifer pass on peacefully, except she wasn't a strong enough spirit for him to connect with. Not sure how or even if this ties into the hazmat ghost at all."

"Still no clues about who it could be?" Sam asked.

"Nada," Dean said. "I did confirm that there was no lab or any kind of scientific facility at this site before the hotel was built. According to the hotel manager, before it was a hotel, it was a movie theater that went out of business during the great depression and got torn down, and before that, it was live-theater, but I'm pretty sure that was before hazmat suits were even invented. Before that, nothing. Just an empty lot."

"So maybe we're looking for someone who died somewhere else and their spirit was brought to the hotel connected to a cursed object," Sam suggested. "Have you seen anything in the hotel that looks like it might have come from a lab? Or belong to some kind of scientist?"

"If it was something that belonged to them, then it could be anything," Dean pointed out in exasperation. "A chair, or a painting, or a vase? I'm not gonna be able to find it unless I know what it is."

"You'd better start looking into any deaths in the area that might have been related to radioactive materials then," Sam said. "Any kind of death that might have occurred while the deceased was wearing a hazmat suit."

"Yeah, something that would have burned right through it," Dean said. "According to our descriptions, the suit is partially melted."

"You got this Dean?" I still have two and a half hours of driving to go.

"Yeah, I got it," Dean replied.

He did not got it. He got nothing. He stayed at the library until it closed at eight and didn't find a single death that fit the description. He got back to the hotel around the same time Sam did.

"Did you fill the tank?" he asked immediately.

"Yes, Dean, I filled the tank," Sam replied, rolling his eyes. "Did you identify our hazmat?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I couldn't find squat. It's like this ghost is..."

"A ghost?" Sam finished for him, raising an eyebrow.

Dean scowled. That had been what he was about to say, but he knew it sounded stupid, that's why he'd stopped.

"Yeah."

Sam shook his head as they went back up to their room.

—

The brothers were still puzzling out what to do about their second ghost, Dean cleaning his guns while Sam poured over their dad's journal, when they heard a muffled gasp from above them. Floating there on the ceiling was a figure in a hazmat suit, its faint glow barely visible in the light of the room.

For an instant, none of them moved. Then, acting quickly, Dean grabbed the crowbar that was next to him on the bed and flung it at the figure on the ceiling.

Rather than passing right through, causing the hazmat ghost to dissipate, the crowbar made contact with a clang, hitting it right on the head and knocking it to the floor between the two beds.

"Quick, salt, Sammy!" Dean shouted, rather than gape at the seemingly unconscious 'ghost' on their floor.

He tried to grab the hazmat-wearing figure, and to his surprise, it worked. He dragged it into the armchair in their room while Sam laid a ring of salt around it.

"Do you actually think this'll work, Dean?" Sam asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem like any ghost I've ever seen. Iron is supposed to repel ghosts, not actually hit them. I'm pretty sure this is something else."

"Iron hurt it—"

"Being hit in the head with a crowbar hurt it," Sam pointed out. "Based on that, it could be human for all we know."

"It was on the ceiling, Sam," Dean said flatly, grabbing the iron chains from under the bed and wrapping them around their captive. "And this don't look like Spider-Man to me."

"Well it doesn't look like a ghost, either," Sam insisted.

"So, what, you think this is some kind of Scooby-Doo situation?" Dean asked. "We'll pull off the mask and it turns out it's just some shady real-estate developer who wanted to get the hotel closed down so they could turn it into a theme park? Let's try it then."

Dean grabbed the hood of the hazmat suit and tore it off. 

They both gasped at what they saw.

Whoever it was, he looked young, maybe 13 or 14. His hair was as white as sheet and floated on an imaginary breeze. His face was dark. Lightning-bolt scars criss-crossed it all the way down to the neck until they disappeared under the suit's collar. His skin appeared to be badly burned, flaking off in ashes which vanished before they hit the ground.

He groaned as he started to come back to consciousness, and when he opened his eyes, they were a solid, eerie green, glowing so brightly they almost hurt to look at, even in the well-lit room.

"Still think he's human?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head, wide-eyed and dumbstruck.

"This sure as hell never happened on Scooby-Doo."

"Ugh," the mysterious boy groaned again, blinking and shaking his head like he was trying to get his bearings. "Did you seriously throw a crowbar at my head?" he demanded after a moment. "What the hell, dude?!"

"What are you?" Sam demanded. "A demon?"

"I'm a ghost, what the hell does it look like?" the boy replied.

"You don't look like any ghost we've ever seen," Dean said.

"Let me guess, you're more used to shades like the other ghost that was floating around this hotel, right?" the kid guessed. "She seems to have left the building though. You two got any idea why?"

"We took care of her," Dean replied. "Sam dug her up and salted and burned her bones. And if you really are a ghost, then we can do the same to you."

"You... you straight up ended her?" he asked. "Just like that? You didn't even give her the chance to move on? Ancients, what the hell!"

"She had the chance to move on when she died, and she didn't take it," Dean said. "Instead she terrorized people, so we showed up to stop her."

"She gave a few people nightmares! Everyone has nightmares sometimes! You didn't have to destroy her!"

"What's it to you, did you know her?" Sam asked. "She a friend of yours?"

"Well... no, but I was trying to?" the boy replied. "She was too weak to capture, and I didn't want to destroy her by trying to fight, so I was trying to learn more about her and help her move on."

"If you're a ghost, why don't you move on?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, what's keeping you around?" Dean echoed the sentiment more harshly.

"The same thing preventing you from salting and burning my bones," came the reply. The so-called ghost did not elaborate.

"And what would that be?" Dean finally asked.

"I guess you could say I'm not dead enough yet."

"So you're not a ghost, then," Sam said.

"I am," said the boy. "I'm not a shade, like that woman you ended. I'm what a ghost is like when we actually have enough power to be a whole person and not just a shadow of our former self. I'm a ghost like you've never encountered before."

"Whatever you are, we're gonna get rid of you," Dean jeered.

"Why?" asked the boy. "I haven't hurt anyone. All I did was try to help another ghost pass peacefully through the veil. Don't you hunters have any sort of moral code?"

"So, what?" Sam asked. "You're proposing we just let you go?"

"Fat chance," Dean scoffed.

"Not exactly," the ghost replied with a smirk. "More like I'm telling you not to feel to guilty when I escape." Then the ghost stood up, iron chains falling right off him. "Iron is more difficult to pass through without destabilizing, but not too much of a challenge for ghosts like me. Sorry, but this will be the last time we see each other."

With that, he pulled his hood back on, obscuring his face once more, so the only thing visible was the glow of his eyes behind the black lenses of his mask. Then he flew right up through the ceiling.

The Winchesters tried to find him. They searched the hotel top to bottom, probably looking half-mad, but he was gone. He'd simply vanished without a trace. And they never did see him again.

[chaifootsteps]

Since I only saw Beetlejuice movies (both of them now), I wanted to check out the animated series and see what made you ship those two.

I was able to see only clips of episodes on YouTube, but it was enough because I understand now lmao

I will fight anyone who will see Lydia and Beetlejuice's relationship as a pedo or grooming situation. Lydia is CLEARLY in charge, there isn't a case of touching without consent, and she can freely summon and send BJ away. He is ready to fight sand worms for her, and she would gladly stand up for him.

There was that one scene where BJ broke a promise that he would stop scaring Lydia's parents, and she sends him away in anger. And he is so confident that she will get over it and summon him again soon, but it doesnt happen and he just STANDS THERE IN FRONT OF A CLOCK AND STARES AT IT, what a pathetic wet cat of a man, I laughed so hard at that scene lmao

although I still prefer them more as friends or BJ being that one crazy uncle

You get it. Lydia's the one with all the power in that relationship, physically and emotionally, and she's not even the slightest bit afraid to use it. The episode where he breaks his promise is the only time she ever banishes him in anger and it's about 40 seconds before he's staring at the clock and sobbing in front of the many, many framed pictures of her he has around the roadhouse.

And just friends Beetlejuice and Lydia is totally fine and valid! The important thing, at the end of the day, isn't whether they're boxing tongues...it's that these two characters love each other, are better for knowing each other, and whenever they're together, know that they're home.

[bccky]

Souls Intertwined By Fate

Part 2

Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader

Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?

Words: 1061

Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced

A/N: revamped fic of my own. It's been almost an year since I posted the first part, I'm extremely sorry for the long pause hehe // Dividers by @firefly-graphics // hope you like this one Xx

⇤ PART 1

Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist

GIF by saucynewf

A shiver runs down your spine as you stand behind the Roadhouse, and you can't tell if it's because of the cold biting air or the green eyes that are trying to cloud your mind. 

There aren't many things that can scare you now, but now that you have found your soulmate, even thinking about him gives you shivers - and not the good kind.

"Thank you," You whisper to Jo as she sneaks a few bottles of the strongest rum through the backdoor. Your only objective now is to avoid Ellen and whoever that guy was. 

You don't want to know his name... It will make this all too real. 

"You owe me a big one." Jo says and you nod, wanting to cut your time here as short as possible.

Her questioning glances every few seconds are enough for you to know that she's just waiting for an opening to ask why you are suddenly stocking up on your favorite bottles of alcohol, and you're not ready to tell her why.

Realizing you forgot to bring your car to the back, you sigh, bidding farewell to Jo with a hug. 

You almost start running once she closes the door towards your car that you parked in the front, stashing your bag in the car, as you start the ignition. 

You're ready to step on the accelerator and be away from your soulmate, the person who's going to be your doom. You can't help but peek at the bar as you pass by and you're sure you see the dirty blond hair that is going to haunt your dreams from now on. 

The bottles Jo smuggled are just so that you can lay off from visiting the Road House as much as you can. 

It's no secret that whoever drops by the bar is sure to become a regular thanks to Ellen's hospitality, connections and knowledge of the supernatural, that is, unless anyone gives her a reason to clear off. 

The fear makes you drive as far as possible from the only people who you now call your family in search of hunts, but that doesn't mean you can run from what you have named as 'the Soulmates Curse'. 

You end up at a diner in a small town with a supposed haunted cabin in the nearby woods, taking a breath of relief as you see an empty seat by the window.

You put down all the resources you have on the table for the current case you're working on, using it as a distraction. 

But as you’re settling, a high pitched giggle catches your attention. There’s a family in the park near the diner which you can see clearly from your seat.

You get a weird feeling in your heart, a sense of longing for what you once had. The parents laze around on a picnic blanket, happily watching the children who are running around and playing with each other.

You wonder if you’ll ever get to live and love like that again.

“Hey,” a deep voice pulls you out of your chain of thoughts, and you look up to see a man with dark, gelled-back hair, a stubble gracing his genial smile, "You okay?" 

Not gonna lie, you feel like a high school girl starting to fall for the cute guy in class, your insides warm as your body feels flush.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You say to yourself, although you know that it isn't true, it's the only way to convince your mind that you're doing the right thing by saving yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.  

“I’m Chris, your server for the evening. What can I get you?”

Chris’ deep brown eyes make you want to forget everything, and for some reason, it makes you feel like you’re cheating on your non-existent relationship.

 “Just a cheeseburger and fries, Chris. Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.” He winks at you with another one of his charming smiles, and you almost melt.

Your mind is in overdrive now.

The happy family directly in your sights are confusing your one-track mind, making you want that kind of contentment in your life as well.

As Chris brings your order to your table, you can’t help but ask, “The town is quite charming, huh?”

He laughs, “Yep, just a small, peaceful town. Except for Old Neil’s Cabin, it’s a nice place to live. And if you don’t believe in ghost stories, we don’t have many problems here.”

And with that, your yearning mind starts planning out an ordinary life in this town, hoping that your soulmate will have a peaceful death and since you won’t be attached to him, you won't feel much when the inevitable happens.

If you get rid of the ghost, then you can see yourself getting old here, preferably with a handsome man like Chris, and have a little family.

Back at the Harvelle’s Roadhouse, Dean Winchester takes a sip of his beer and sighs, tapping on the wooden bar, deep in thought.

Sam is talking about something or the other with Jo, not paying mind to Dean, who honestly doesn’t care. He is too occupied with the girl from last night who has been making his heart skip a beat every few minutes as little things around him keep reminding him of you.

Dean smiles to himself as a warmth spreads in his heart, hopeful that you are having a good time, whoever, and wherever you are.

“What’s up with him?” Jo asks Sam softly, not wanting to rob him out of whatever was cheering him on.

“No one ever knows with him.” Sam shrugs, throwing an amusing smile at his brother, not that he noticed. “He has been a little hush since yesterday.”

“Jo,” Dean speaks out of the blue, bursting the bubble he had built around him.

“Yeah?” She replies, in anticipation of knowing what his next words will be, curious about what he had been contemplating all this while.

“Do you know a girl around our age in the hunting business?”

“To be quite frank, there are a lot. I can’t just tell who you’re talking about just from that.”

Dean takes the last drink out of his glass before turning towards Jo, giving her a serious look.  “She was here yesterday.”

“Oh, you mean Y/N?” 

And with that, Dean’s life takes a different turn again.

Part 3

I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx

I wanna get back into writing again, can you send in any requests or something? Thanks in advance :)

Wanna read more of my works? Check out the masterlist linked at the top!

I'm not tagging anyone this time because it has been so long since I last posted this series, or anything to be honest, so please let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next parts (let me know in the reblogs)!

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

Done

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Platonic Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: You've had a crush on Dean for awhile now and you're so hurt and tired of watching him flirt with every girl and you finally tell him how you feel.

A/n: For like a week I've kept thinking about this scenario in my head and I wanted to share it with everybody. This is my first attempt at writing a full story so I hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry if it's bad:)

Word Count:1.7k- way longer than I thought it was going to be

Warnings: Language, slight angst, little but of fluff at the end, implied smut. Let me know if I missed any!!

You had been hunting with the Winchesters for about 3 years now and it had been some of the most terrifying yet fun years you've had in awhile. You met the boys when they were hunting a Djinn who had trapped you in a dream where you could live out your life with your parents who had passed away when you were 8.

You guys were heading back to the motel after a grueling vampire hunt that you guys had been working on for about a week. When you guys got to the motel there was only 2 rooms available which meant you had to share with one of the brothers.

"I call my own room." Sam had said quicker than you could comprehend then tossed you and Dean the key to your guys room and then departed to his room to take a shower. You would have preferred to share a room with Sam because he was your best friend and he was fun to be around. You didn't mind sharing a room with Dean but you've been in love with him for so long it's getting harder and harder to control your feelings.

You knew he would never think of you like that because everywhere you go Dean always finds some random girl in a bar or some girl on a case to flirt with and he has no shame about it whatsoever. It's so hard to sit back and just watch as the man you love flirt with everyone in sight, not to mention he's not quiet when he decides to bring a girl home, not even blink an eye towards you. You knew why he wouldn't wanna be with you, you weren't as pretty or skinny or interesting as all the other girls. You were just somebody who followed them around and was like a sister to them.

"Looks like there's only one bed so it looks like we'll be sharing, unless I get lucky then I'm sure you can stay with Sam." Dean had said with his signature smirk that you loved but right now was just pissing you off. You didn't know why that comment had set you off tonight but you were done with all his bullshit.

"Whatever Dean, I don't really care anymore. I'll just go sleep outside so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want." You said with your back against the wall. You were honestly just so tired from the hunt you didn't really care anymore.

"What the hell is up with you Y/n? You've been so angry and snappy towards me lately and I haven't done shit to you!" Dean said taken aback by your rudeness towards him. He'd noticed you'd been off the past few weeks with him but he couldn't figure out why.

"Just forget it. It's not even worth it. Just go find some random girl who's willing to throw herself at you and have a good night and leave me the hell out of it!" You said and then stomped away to head into the bathroom to take a cold shower to try and calm yourself down.

The motel you guys were staying at was only 5 minutes away from the Roadhouse and once you got in the shower you heard the hum of baby drive away knowing him and Sam were heading to the bar. You knew Jo was gonna be there and you knew how flirty she was with Dean every time you guys came around and the thought killed you of what was gonna happen tonight.

After you got out of the shower you decided to stop feeling sorry for yourself and got dressed in a cute black lace tank top with some dark blue skinny jeans and black high heeled boots, did your hair and makeup and walked 5 minutes down the road to the bar. When you got there you immediately see Dean sitting down at the bar with Jo standing way too close to him and laughing at something he was saying. You headed over to join Sam at a table he was sitting at doing research about your guys next case. You sat down next to him and let out a long sigh while continuing to stare at Dean and Jo.

"You know he's a blind idiot Y/N, he doesn't know what he's doing to you and he's not gonna know until you say something to him." Sam says as he can't help but feel bad knowing how much you care about Dean and him not feeling the same way.

"No Sam you don't get it! He's so blind and selfish and it's just so frustrating and I can't take it anymore." You finish your rant not realizing that you had started yelling and now everyone was staring at you including Dean and Jo. You immediately stood up and ran out of the bar and started walking back towards the motel. When you got there you slammed the door and began to start crying.

About 5 minutes later you hear baby pull into the parking lot and try to compose yourself before Dean comes in because you know he's gonna want to talk about what had happened. Dean unlocks the door and sees you sitting on the bed looking sad.

"Okay seriously Y/N you've been mad at me for weeks, you can't be in the same room as me for more than 5 minutes without wanting to rip my head off and now suddenly your causing scenes in bars for no reason, what the hell is going on with you? If I did something wrong I'm truly sorry but you need to tell me what it is so I know how to fix it." Dean says now kneeling in front of you trying to read your face.

You immediately stand up to get space away from you and him before deciding what to tell him. "You know what fine. I'm so tired and so done competing."

"Competing with what sweetheart?" Dean said causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies at the name

"I'm done trying to compete for your attention. I'm done trying to make you see me. I'm done I can't do it anymore it's to exhausting. I know I'll never be someone you think is attractive, I'm not as pretty as any of the girls you flirt with or as smart as other girls. I'm just ordinary and I can understand why you wouldn't wanna be with someone like me and so I'm just done." By time time you had finished with your rant your cheeks were stained with tears and you were sitting against the wall avoiding eye contact.

It took Dean a minute to make sense of everything that you had just said. It broke his heart seeing you like this because he really did in fact care for you and the fact that he was the one hurting you tore him up inside. He took a deep breathe before kneeling down in front of you and he put his finger under your chin forcing you to look up at him.

"Are you crazy? Of course I love you, you're amazing, smart, beautiful, strong, sexy, you care about me, you make me feel like a human and not some monster. You're so loving and you see the good in me even when I can't. You are everything to me Y/n and I'm so sorry that you were feeling this way. All those other girls are just things I use to get my mind off of you and to make myself forget how bad I am for you." This causes something to shift in the room because now you are suddenly concerned about how Dean is feeling.

"What do you mean? How are you bad for me?" "Let's face it Y/n, I'm a monster, I push everyone away, I don't know how to talk about my feelings, I'm so angry all the time, I don't know how to love someone properly. Which is why I couldn't let myself fall for you any more because I knew I would just end up hurting you." Now suddenly he's the one refusing to make eye contact with you as he stands up and faces away from you.

You get up off the floor and walk up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder "Dean, I can't imagine being with anyone else. You're not a monster you are a loving caring person who would put their life before anyone else. I know you may not see it but you are one of the greatest people I know and I would be lucky if you would be with me. Relationships have hard times that's part of being in a relationship but we can get through it together and figure it out as time happens."

"I love you Y/n I want to try being the best and most caring boyfriend I can be for you." He says finally looking into your eyes for the first time since entering the motel room.

"I love you too Dean." You look up at him and smile

He looks down at you and slowly moves his head towards yours he then rests his forehead on yours and slowly connects your lips together. The kiss started out really small and timid because this was uncharted territory for the both of you. As the kiss started to heat up he licked at your bottom lip asking for permission and you quickly let him in. He brought his up and rested them on your hips and started walking you backwards to the bed. He slowly laid you down on the bed and broke the kiss to admire your face. He looks down and smiles at you. He's so glad he can finally be able to call you his and let everyone know that you are his.

He reconnects your lips and slowly starts to drag his fingers down your chest and down to your thighs.

"Let me show you how much I love you." You quickly nod your head yes and smile into the kiss as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head. You know this is gonna be one of the best nights of your life.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

A middle aged African American man, Dr. Jennings gets a phone call in the middle of the town square. "Hello? Yeah" He answers happily but his smile drops when a voice compels him to do something terrible. "Alright" he takes the order before hanging up. A Blue Ridge bus passes in-front of him in the crowed street.

He then smiles again and begins walking down the square to the local gun shop. "Afternoon, Dennis" He approaches the man behind the counter reading a magazine about guns. "Hey, doc" Dennis greets Dr. Jennings with a smile. "I'd like to look at a gun" Dr. Jennings says to Dennis, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yeah right, doc" Dennis chuckles but Dr. Jennings wasn't joking. "Seriously?" Dennis asks surprised as the doctor nods. Dr. Jennings then points the shotgun he's like as Dennis goes round the unlock the chain from it. "That one" The doctor says. "Okay" Dennis says unsure, unlocking the gun. "That's a turkey hunter. Twelve-gauge, pump action" Dennis lists off the profile of the gun before cocking it.

He then hands it to Dr. Jennings, "Don't leave enough turkey behind, if you ask me" Dennis's jokes as Dr. Jennings takes the shotgun. "What sort of shells does it use?" The doctor asks, examining the gun. "Dennis the. Takes out a case of bullets for the gun. "I'm taking the boys up to the cabin this week, if you're uh..." He pauses when he sees the doctor examining the bullet.

"I mean, if you think you'd like to take up the sport" Dennis chuckles, Dr. Jennings then smiles, chuckling before he shakes his head, "Thanks but no. You know guns make me nervous, always have" He laughs before loading the gun, "This one goes in here, right?" He asks before coming the gun.

"Hey, whoa! Doc, no no! You can't load a weapon on the premises. It's illegal" Dennis tries to warn doc, panicking when he loaded the gun. "It's okay, Dennis" Dr. Jennings says calmly. "Nono" Dennis tries to stop him but puts his hands up. "It's okay, Dennis. It's all gonna be..." He then turns to Dennis, pointing the gun in his direction.

"Doc!" Dennis pleads, "....okay" Dr. Jennings then shoots Dennis point blank in his chest, sending him straight back into the glass window of the door behind him. Patrons in the gun shop scream in terror, "No, no. It's okay...It's okay. It's all gonna be okay." Dr Jennings assures everyone calmly before putting the gun below his chin.

Blowing his head off himself, his blood splatters on the roof above him.

Y/N gasps awake in the backseat of the Impala, cold sweating furiously. She tries to catch her breath as she frantically searched for a bottle of water in the bag of snacks Sam got in the gas n sip. She uncorked the bottle and gulped it down. The cool water calming her chest heaves as beads of sweat flowed down her neck, drenching her tshirt. The car was empty because Sam went to the bathroom and was taking forever so Dean went to go check on him.

While Sam held his head in pain, soaking his face in the crappy gas stations bathroom. Gasping for air similarly to Y/N, having had the same vision, "Sam, come on, zip it up. Let's hit the....road" Dean paused in concern when he saw his brothers state. "What?" He asks Sam concerned, Sam gripped the sink, his mind flashed to y/n, thinking she's probably having the same vision.

________________________________

It was now nightfall and they were all driving down the dark road. "Rock in Nebraska, your source for the classics, all night long" The DJ on the radio deck blared. "I don't know, guys. Why don't we just chill out? Think about this?" Dean suggests to the two clearly shaken younger hunters. Y/N, who was riding shotgun now, turned off the radio. "Whats there to think about?" Sam pipes up from the backseat.

"I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea" Dean tries to defend. "Dean. It's another premonition, we know it. This is gonna happen and Ash can tell us where. " Y/N says determined. Dean is still unsure, "Yeah, sweetheart but-" Dean sighs but Sam interrupts. "Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. Our visions always do" Sam adds defensively.

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there, I don't know if going in and announcing that you're both supernatural freaks with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?" Dean argues, his words came out harsher than he meant to. This triggers something in Sam and Y/N, "So we're freaks now?" Y/N scoffs offended, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I knew it." She sighs disappointed, shaking her head, turning to face the passenger for. Her gaze was trained outside the window in shame, guilt raising in Dean. "Princess, I didn't mean-" Dean tries to apologize but Sam comes to their defense, "Just shut up, Dean!" Sam barks back. Deans mouth snaps shut, knowing he was in the wrong for his statement.

________________________________

CE, Nebraska

The trio finally made it to the roadhouse, the second they entered, a couple of hunters glanced their way in suspicion, having not seen them there before. Rock music was blaring through the bar, "Well look who is is" Jo smiles at the three, "How you doing, Jo?" Dean chuckles. "Where's Ash?" Sam asks urgently. "In his back room" Jo tells him. "Great." Sam says before rushing to the back.

"And I'm fine" Jo shouts sarcastically to Sam. "Sorry, he's- we're kind of a bit on a timetable" Y/N says to Jo apologetically, Dean then turns to Y/N, "Come on princess, let me buy you a beer" He says to her sweetly, linking his arm in hers. She just glares at him, snatching her arm away as she shakes her head, "I'm fine" She grunts before following behind Sam.

Dean sighs in defeat as Jo takes in the interaction. "Trouble in paradise?" Jo asks Dean in a teasing tone. "You have no idea" Dean chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck before walking around Jo to head to the back with Sam and Y/N.

Meanwhile Sam and Y/N are banging on Ash's door, a sign up on it saying, 'Dr. Badass is in'. Sam knocks again, "Ash?" He calls out to him. Y/N rolls her eyes and bangs harder with her fist, "Yo Billy Ray! You and your mullet need to wake up!" She yells a bit louder. Dean then approaches and knocks, "Hey, Dr. Badass!" He calls out and instantly the door opened. Dean and Y/N rolled their eyes at this.

A shirtless Ash appeared at the crease of the door, "Sam, Dean, Y/N." Ash says before taking an exasperated deep breath, "Sam, Dean and Y/N" He smirks, scanning y/n's frame. "Hey, Ash. Um...we need your help" Sam says calmly. "Oh, hell, then. Guess I need my pants" Ash grins widely as Y/N's eyes glance down to see he was only in his boxers.

Ash then closes the door as the trio groan in annoyance.

Ash, Sam and Y/N were sat at table in the bar while Ash was on his computer, looking for matches on the logo Sam drew from the bus that passed in their shared vision. "So, I got a match. It's the logo for the Blue Ridge Bus Lines. Guthrie, Oklahoma" Ash tells them. "Okay, do me a favor. Check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that" Y/N asks him. "You guys think the demons there?" He asks them.

Sam and Y/N share a look at this, "Yeah...maybe" Sam says. "Why would you think that?" He asks them curiously. "Just check it, alright?" Dean groans from behind him, approaching with two beers in his hands. Dean and Y/N share a look, he gave her a little pout, still guilty from calling her and Sam freaks. He then hands her the beer with an apologetic look.

Y/N sighs, reaching out to take the beer. Dean smiles softly when she takes it but she gives him a small glare, basically saying 'This doesn't mean you're forgiven'. He still smiled, taking a sip of his own beer simultaneously with her. "No, cupcake. Nothing. No demon" Ash tells her. Their heads drop in defeat, "Alright, try something for me." Sam begins while scratching the itchy cast on his wrist.

"Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983 or 1984. Fires origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kids 6 month birthday" Sam finishes. Dean and Y/N's gazes snap over to him while Jo, who was behind Dean wiping the bar counter, and Ash looked beyond confused. "Okay, now, that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be looking for that?" Ash asks bluntly.

Y/N then leans over and snatches Sams unopened beer, "Cuz there's a PBR in it for ya" She smirks, plopping it down infront of Ash. "Give me fifteen minutes" Ash instantaneously responds.

The bar was now empty. Ellen was behind the counter while Jo cleaned the tables. Meanwhile, waiting for Ash to finish doing his digging, Y/N was sat at the bar sipping on her sixth beer and dragging from her cigarette. A light buzz humming through her brain as the alcohol slowly makes its course through her veins. Her mind still stuck on the fact that Dean called her and Sam freaks.

She felt as if though she was overreacting, as if she shouldn't be hurt by it but she still was. I mean, maybe he was right. She excepted it but at the same time, it hurt to hear. Y/N knew she wasn't perfect, she had her moments, her breakdowns and whatnot. Usually whenever someone tells her crap, she pays no mind to it. Yet a simple zinger from Dean had her scruffing down six beers and a half pack smokes.

She was growing too attached to him, too sensitive to anything he says. And boy did she hate it.

Dean was across the bar, losing to pool against Sam. Still filled with guilt. Sam noticed that Dean was barely interested in the game because his sorrow-filled eyes kept flickering over to Y/N. His gaze trapped on the faint glow of her cigarette, tucked between her fingers. Sam sighed and then took up his pool cue and pointed it at his brother.

"Go. Apologize. To. Her. You. Idiot. " Sam nudges his brother with the stick in his ribs with each word. Dean jumped slightly from the pokes, usually he'd argue and defend why he shouldn't but he was wrong once again. "Alright, alright. I'm going." Dean grumbles, slapping away the cue his bratty little brother was poking him with before waking over to her.

Dean pulled out the stool next to y/n who was finishing up her beer, settling in the seat as he rested his beer mug next to her, "Hey, princess" He says softly, breaking her train of thought with his voice, her eyes flickered over to him, "Hey, charming" She responded a bit dull, feigning a tight smile as she crushed her cigarette bud in the ashtray. "Look, I'm really sorry for calling you a freak" He apologizes sincerely, resting his hand on her thigh.

Her body stiffens initially at his touch but almost immediately relaxes, "It's fine, really" She slurred slightly, finally making eye contact with him. "No, it's not. I shouldn't have said it. Not after everything you've went through. I'm not good with this sentimental shit but..." He chuckles awkwardly, moving his hand to scratch the back of his neck.

"Apology accepted." She cuts him off with a small smile, her heart warming at the fact that he apologized for calling her a freak. "If it means anything, we're all freaks in some way" He jokes, his hand resting his hand once again on her thigh. A heartfelt chuckle escapes her throat, making his heart swell that he earned a laugh from her again.

Jo takes in the interaction as a mischievous thought crossed her head. Smirking to herself, she made her way over to the jukebox.

"Amen to that" Y/N laughs, raising her empty beer glass. "Amen" Dean chuckles, toasting with her. "You want another?" He gestures to her empty glass, gently caressing her thigh. "I've had enough" She chuckles, still a bit buzzed, pushing her glass aside. A heat started to rise up y/n's southern region as his calloused hand made a light friction through her jeans, she turnt away and bit her lip to calm down her stupid hormones.

'I knew I should've stopped at three beers' she thought to herself.

"You okay?" Dean asks her concerned, taking his hand off her thigh because he thought she was having another vision from the way her face turnt up before she looked away. Alcohol always seemed to bring out the horny bitch in her and Dean's hand pressing against her thigh did not make it any better. If it was just a couple inches higher up, she would've lost all control right there.

Self respect would've gone straight out the window. Her cheeks was almost beet red, luckily Dean couldn't see much in the dark bar and because she had her head turnt away from him, or else she would've swollen with embarrassment, "Yeah, I'm o-" She goes to say but the sound of REO Speedwagon's song, Can't Fight This Feeling, blurred through the bar. Startling them both with the irony.

Well that sure sobered her up.

Their eyes snapped over to Jo's direction, a smirk plastered across her face. "What? I love this song." She said innocently as she took up a tray of glasses, resting it on the counter.

'I can't fight this feeling any longer'

"REO Speedwagon?" Y/N scoffed a chuckle. "Damn right, REO. Kevin Cronin sings from the heart" She winks smugly at Y/N, walking closer to them. "He sings it from the hair. There's a difference" Dean retorts.

'What started out as friendship had grown stronger'

Their eyes meet each other while the song plays before y/n meekly looks down back at her empty glass. Jo glances back at her mom to make sure she can't hear their conversation before turning back to them. "That profile you've got Ash looking for?" She asks them. "Hmm?" Y/N hummed.

"Your moms died the same way? A fire in Sam and y/n's nursery?" She asks them. Their eyebrows raise at this, "Look, Jo. It's kind of a family thing" Dean tries to dismiss it but Jo nods, "I could help" She offers. "I'm sure you could. But we gotta handle this one ourselves" Y/N lets her down gently, Jo sighs in defeat.

"We have a match. We gotta go." Sam approaches them urgently with a light brown manila folder of papers in his hands from Ash. "Alright. See you later, Jo" Y/N says sweetly to her before they all walked out. "Thanks Ellen" She thanks Ellen before locking the door behind her.

________________________________

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight" Dean sings as he drives down the road, Y/N infront and Sam lounging in the back. Their heads slowly turn to him in confusion and disbelief, "You're a candle in the window. On a cold, dark winter's night" Sam smirks as his lovesick brother's horrid voice echos through the Impala.

Y/N's heart is pounding through her chest, a smirk rising in her face also. "And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might" Dean still sings. "You're kidding, right?" Y/N chuckles loudly, cocking her eyebrow. "I heard the song somewhere, can't get it out of my head" He winks at her smugly, earning an eyeroll from her to cover up the fact that she's blushing. "Yeah, sure" She nods still laughing.

Her mind then strays to the fact that maybe Dean was thinking about Jo when singing it. I mean, Jo did put the song on. They were real chummy last time they were at the roadhouse. He sure seemed into her. She reminded herself that she's probably just being delusional about any chance between her and Dean and decided to just discard the hopeful thought from her head.

She's not gonna lie to herself though, if Jo seemed to have any kind of interest in her, she'd jump at the chance too. The girl was smoking and clearly intelligent. Plus she nearly took down y/n when they first met, she had to give Jo her brownie points for that. Jo was also eager to hunt, which is something y/n can definitely relate to when she was Jo's age.

"What do you got, Sam?" She changes the subject, looking at Sam through the rearview mirror. Sam shakes his head at the banter between the two, "Andrew Gallagher. Born in '83, like us. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like us." Sam reads from the file Ash printed. "You think the demon killed his mom?" Dean asks.

"Sure looks like it" Sam sighs, his eyes trained on the folder. "How did you guys even know to look for this guy?" Dean asks them. "Every premonition we've had, if they're not about the demon, they're about the other kids the demon visited." Y/N tells him. "Like Max Miller, remember him?" Sam adds. "But Max Miller was a pasty little psycho" Dean says chuckling.

"Point is, he was killing people. And we were having the same type of visions like him" Y/N cuts in. "And now it could be happening again all over again with this Gallagher guy" Sam adds. "How do we find him?" Dean asks. "Don't know. No current address, no current employment." Sam reads from the file as they listen. "Still owes money on all his bills. Phone, credit, utilities" Sam continues to list off.

"Collection agency flags?" Y/N asks. "None in the system" Sam responds. This surprises them, "They just let him take a walk?" Dean asks confused. "Seems like it" Sam shrugs. "There's a work address from his last W2, about a year ago. We'll start there" Sam tells them, they both nod in agreement.

________________________________

The next morning they were at the old diner Andrew used to work at, the trio are dressed in suit and ties while y/n had on a white blouse and dress pants. Currently his former coworker. "You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do" The girl says to them as she pours Dean some coffee. "They?" Y/N asks curiously. "You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while, they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back" The girl tells them, slightly impressed by Andrews skills of persuasion.

This sends up red flags in their heads. "Actually, we're lawyers, representing his Great-aunt Lita. She passed, God rest her soul, but left Andy a sizable estate" Dean lies smoothly. "Yeah. So are you a friend of his?" Sam goes along with the lie. "I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore" Yhe girl says a bit sadly. "Andy?" Another male coworker asks, taking a seat at their table.

"Andy kicks ass, man" The man brags. "Is that right?" Y/N cocks her eyebrow. "Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. Man, he even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro" The man rambles on while the girl looks annoyed. "Uh-huh. How bout bussing a table or two, Webber?" The girl sasses him.

Webber looks between them nervously, "Yeah. You bet, boss" He chuckles before getting up to do just that. The trio share an amused look at this, "Look, if you wanna find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side" She tells them amused. "Barbarian queen" Deans eyebrow cocks at this. "She's riding a polar bears. It's kinda hard to miss" The girl says ironically.

________________________________

They were now all sat in the Impala on Orchard Street, parked across from Andrews van with the barbarian queen riding a polar bear painted on, staking it out. Stonehenge by Spinal Tap blasting through the radio on Baby's deck.

'Stonehenge. Where the demons dwell'

"I'm sorry. Im starting to like this dude. That van is sweet" Dean blurts out, gawking at the van. He turns to see Y/N giving him an unimpressed look along with Sam. "It's a douchewagon" Y/N huffs. "What's wrong?" He asks them, noticing their grim expressions. "Nothing" Sam says plainly as y/n shakes her head. Dean is unconvinced and judging by the looks on their faces, they were stuck on something.

"Guys, you look like you're sucking on lemons. What's going on?" Dean pressed. Sam sighs, "This Andrew Gallagher guy. He's the second guy like this we've found, Dean" Sam says blankly. "Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people" Sam continues. "We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is. Okay? He could be innocent" Dean tries to assure them.

"Our visions haven't been wrong yet" Y/N argues. "What's your point?" Dean asks. "Our point is, we're like them" Sam huffs. "No, neither of you are" Dean rolls his eyes. "Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and Sam, and children like us" Y/N points out. "Yeah?" Dean sighs. "Yeah, maybe this is his plan. Maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks. Maybe we're all supposed to be- " She exclaims  in frustration but Dean cuts her off.

"What? Killers?" He huffs. "Yeah!" Sam and Y/N shout in unison. "Okay. So the demon wants you two out there killing with your minds, is that is?" Dean asks sarcastically. Their faces drop at his tone, "Oh give me a break. Your not murderers guys! Neither of you have it in your bones" Dean grunts agitated. "No?" Sam cocks his eyebrow at the irony.

Dean shakes his head in frustration, "Last I checked, we killed all kinds of things" Y/N counters. "But those things were asking for it. There's a difference" Dean retorts. Sam and Y/N sigh, still stumped on the fact that they're connected to possible murderers in ways they can't explain. She spots a man with scruffy hair and a light stubble, wearing a robe exiting the apartment building the van was parked next to. He was around her and Sam's age,

"Got him" She leans forwards and nudges the boys from the backseat. Their heads turn to his direction, their eyes widen when they see a gorgeous blonde girl in the window above, wearing a similar robe. Waving at Andrew flirtatiously. Andrew waved back, meekly smiling before walking over to a man on the street carrying a cup of coffee. With just a simple exchange of words, Andrew points to the coffee and the man hands it to him without hesitation.

Andrew then greets Dr. Jennings, the man from Sam and Y/N's vision. Their jaws drop, "That's him. That's the older guy. That's him" Sam nudges his brother. "What?" Dean asks confused. "He's the shooter" Y/N tells him a bit panicked. "Alright. You two keep on him. I'll stick with Andy" Dean instructs the younger hunters.

Y/N's POV

Sam and I followed Deans order and jumped out of the Impala to follow the man from our vision. When we made it to the sidewalk, I heard the Impala ignition start, we peered our heads to see Dean following behind Andrews van that pulled out of Orchard Street. We continued to follow the man.

After a couple minutes of walking, the man's phone rang and he took the call. Sam and I shared a panicked look when we saw the same bus from our vision. "We gotta get to that gun shop before him" Sam says urgently. I nod and we bolt into action, running towards the gun shop. We paced our stepped when we reached the door to the shop.

"I'll go in. Stay here" I say calmly to him. Sam nods as I push the door open. I greeted one of the patrons with a smile, looking around for a fire alarm. My eyes landed on Dennis, the man that the 'doc' shot in my vision who was behind the counter reading a magazine, just like my vision. I turnt to see right above the door had a security alarm. I thought quick and triggered it, pulling it down to activate it.

Everyone's eyes landed on me so I exited the shop normally as if I didn't do anything. "I hope this works" Sam says a bit on edge to me as I walk out. "Yeah, me too" I sigh. The shooters face drops when he hears the alarm, me and Sam breath out relieved when he was walks away. "Thank god" Sam breathes out.

"For r-" My mouth falls agape before I could finish my sentence because I saw Andrew in the Impala driving down the road past us. Sam's eyes widen in absolute shock at the sight. "No fucking way" I gasp, still shocked. "What the fuck?" Sam is agape like me. I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, dialing in Dean number.

I pressed the phone to my ear and Sam pressed his ear against the back of my phone to hear. In two two's, Dean answers the phone. "Hello?" Dean answers. "Dean! Andy's got the Impala!" I tell him urgently. "I know! He just sort of asked me for it and I let him take it" Dean tells us. Our eyes practically popped out of our heads. "You what?!" Sam exclaims in disbeliefs. "He full-on Obi-Wan'd me. It's mind control, guys!" Dean tells us.

The bus horn honks loudly, then when we looked across the road. We saw the shooter stuff his phone into his pocket before step in-front of the moving bus, our eyes widen in terror at this. Before we could stop anything, the bus came barreling straight into him, killing him on spot. People around the area gasp and scream in terror, my phone slips out of my hand and onto the ground. A sick churning in my stomach.

-

Sometime later, paramedics showed up and pronounced the 'doc' dead on the scene. Dean showed up before the paramedics came after walking back from where he lost the car. Sam and I haven't uttered a word, still traumatized from what we just witnessed. We were sat next to each other on the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the paramedics covered up the dead shooter, his blood soaking the sidewalk.

Dean rubbed our backs comfortingly as we watched on. "We kept him out of the gun store. Thought he was okay" Sam says sorrowfully, taking a deep breath. "I thought he was past it, at least- we should've stayed with him" I shake my head, burying my face in my hands, my elbows propped on my knees.

________________________________

Since Dean didn't have his car, we all had to walk back. We decided to head back over to the diner Andrew used to work at, Dean cheered in excitement when he saw Baby parked out infront of the diner. "Thank God" He exclaims, hurrying over to her. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again" He coos, leaning down to press a kiss to her hood.

Lucky her. What? Who said that?

"At least he left the keys in it" Dean sighs, "Yeah. Real Samaritan, this guy" Sam scoffs ironically. "Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose. He's gotta use verbal commands" Dean says to us. Something clicks in my brain, "Doctor had just gotten off his cellphone when he stepped in-front of that bus" I tell Dean before taking a shakily deep breath.

The image of that poor man dead on the ground like a dog still in my head. "Andy must have called or something" Sam says. "I don't know, maybe" Dean mutters. "Beg your pardon?" I cock my eyebrow at him. "I just don't know if he's our guy" Dean responds honestly, shrugging. Me and Sam scoff, "Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he hit out of his white Bronco and you have doubts about this?" Sam remarks sassily.

"He doesn't seem like the stone cold killer type, that's all. You know? And O.J. was guilty!" Dean retorts defensively. I rolled my eyes at him, "Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?" I ask. Dean thinks for a second before saying, "Not a problem." With a smug smile.

-

He then took us to where Andrew mind-control-carjacked him, his weird ass van was still there. "Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look" Dean pumps his eyebrows at me before reaching into his jacket to take out his knife. Me and Sam keep out out as he picks the lock to the back of Andrews van, Dean chuckles impressed when he opens it up.

The inside of his van was coated with what looks like fur, a painting of a tiger on one wall and a big shiny disco ball in the middle. I grimaced at the interior designing as Sam cringed. "Oh, come on. This is magnificent, that's what this is" Dean mutters dazzled. "This is a douchewagon. That's what this is" I quip back. Earning a chuckle from Sam.

"Not exactly a serial killers lair, though. There's no clown paintings on the wall or scissors stuck in victims photos. Like the tiger" Dean retorts smugly as Sam and I examine some of the books he had in the back. "Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein?" I mutter to myself a bit impressed by the choice range.

"That's some pretty heavy reading, guys" Sam comments. "Yeah, and, uh, ahem, Moby Dicks bong" Dean clears his throat, pulling out a two foot long bong from below a blanket. A smirk on his face, he wiggles his eyebrows at me. "Don't give me any ideas, hotshot" I retort with a snort which causes his to chuckle.

________________________________

We were all now back in the Impala, Sam was reading through the files Ash gave him as Dean was chowing down on a burger. I sat to the back, smoking a cigarette, my elbow propped on the window as Dean groaned in disgust, "Blech. You know, one day, I'd love to just sit down and eat something I didn't have to microwave at a minimart" Dean crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the back by me.

"You're preaching to the choir man" I agree, blowing out the smoke from the corner of my mouth. "What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky-clean. Why would Andy waste him?" Sam thinks out loud. "If it is Andy" Dean comments. "Dude, enough" I huff, earning a questioning look from Dean. "What?" He turns to me, chewing on his food.

"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math!" I point out the obvious a bit agitated as Sam nods in agreement. "I just don't think the guys got it in him, that's all" Dean says. I roll my eyes mid-drag, "Well how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards defending him!" Sam exclaims in frustration.

"Because you guys are not right about this" Dean quips back. "About Andy?" I huff, flicking my cigarette out the window. "Hey! You think I haven't seen you three!?" A males voice from Sam's side of the door startles us. We turn to see it's Andy, our eyes widen like deers in headlights. "Why are you following me?" He asks us. "Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed-" I go to cover for us but he says,

"Tell me the truth" He orders us, I cock my eyebrow at his tone. "That's what she's telling y-" Sam goes to feed into my lie but Dean blurts out with a straight face, "We hunt demons" Me and Sam's heads snap over to him in shock, "What?" Andy gasps. "Dean!" Sam and I mutter to him with gritted teeth. "Demons, spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother. And this is our friend, Y/N" Dean continues to ramble on.

"Dean, shut up!" I growl at him, "I'm trying" Dean almost strains, "They're psychic, like you. Well, not really like you. Y/N is more the psychic of the group. See, they think you're a murderer. And they're afraid they'll become one themselves because you're all apart of something that's terrible. And I hope to hell that they're wrong, but I'm starting to get scared they might be right" Dean admits fully with a tight smile.

Panic takes over Andy's face as we glare at Dean, "Okay, you know what. Just leave me alone" He orders us again. "Okay" Dean grunts painfully, pressing his palm to his forehead. Me and Sam jump out of the Impala, following behind Andy. "What are you guys doing?" Andy asks fearfully as we continue to walk towards him. "Look. I said leave me alone" He orders again, putting his hands out to stop us as he backs away but we don't let up.

Still walking towards him. "Get out of here. Just start driving and never stop" His tone faltering in fear, I open my hands out with a shrug, "Doesn't seem to work on us, Andy" I shrug, still walking towards him along with Sam. "What?" Andy says confused as Dean jumps out of Baby. "You can make people do things. You can tell them what to think" Sam points out the obvious.

"Look, that's crazy" Andy tries to laugh it off as it's madness. "It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned 22. Little stuff at first, then you got better at control" I call him out on everything me and Sam had been experiencing, Andy's face drops, putting his hands up in surrender. "How do you know all this?" His voice lowers, dropping his hands.

"Because the same thing happened to us, Andy. Our moms died in a fire too, we have abilities too." Sam tells him. "You see, we're connected. All of us." Andy looks like he's gonna have a full on panic attack at this point, his hands buried in his hair. "You know what. J-j-just get out of here! Alright?!" Andy yells at us but it doesn't work, once again.

We continue to press, "Why'd you tell the doctor to walk infront of a bus?" I growl at him. His face drops again and that's when my head starts to pound again. A familiar white flash appears infront of my eyes before an image does.

A woman, fire, a car.

My eyes flutter open again, I held my head because the pain still throbbed. Sam was in pain just like me, grimacing, struggling to keep his eyes open, "Why did you kill him?" Sam growls at Andy. "I didn't!" Andy pleads, I go to press on it again but the vision fully takes over.

A blonde woman inserts the gas pump into her tank.

Her phone rings so she fishes it out of her pocket and presses it to her ear.

"Hello?" She answers cheerfully, her face then goes stoic.

"Sure....I can do that" She responds obediently before placing the phone back into her pocket.

She walks back over to the gas pump, pulling it out of the tank.

She then begins to douse herself from head to toe with the gas from the pump before tossing it aside.

An onlooker gas station attendant sees what she's doing and panics, "Hey! Lady what are you doing?!" He shouts.

She then reaches into her car and pulls out the auxiliary power outlet.

"It's gonna be okay" She assures him calmly, mimicking the doctors words.

The man's eyes widen when he realizes what she's about to do, "Lady, no. No!" He screams fearfully, shielding himself as she presses it to her gas soaked clothes.

She bursts into flames as the man watches in terror, the blonde woman the falls to the ground, dead.

-

Sam and I held onto each other when the vision was over, Dean came rushing to our sides when he realized we were having a vision. "Sam?? Y/N?? What is it??" He helps us hold ourselves up but we fell to our knees, groaning from the pressure in our heads. "Look, I didn't do anything to them" Andy defends. Dean crouches in-front of us.

The heat from the concrete ground seeped through my jeans as I tried to recollect myself. "A woman...a woman burning alive" Sam breathes out. "What else did you guys get?" Dean asks urgently. "A gas station. A woman is gonna kill herself" I tell him, gripping my head. "What does she mean 'going to'? What's is- what are they talking ab-" Andy stutters

"Shut up!" Dean cuts him off harshly. "She gets triggered by a call on her cell" Sam gasps as we both look over at Andy with glares. "When?" Dean asks. "I don't know" I say, putting my hand out along with Sam for Dean to help us up. "As long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her" I growl at Andy, my gaze deadly.

"I didn't hurt anybody" Andy tries to defend himself. "Yeah, not yet" Sam snaps back. That's when the sounds of sirens and a fire truck honking filled our ears. The truck drove right past us. "Go" I instruct Dean. He nods before obliging, going over to the car. Andy goes to follow behind him but me and Sam stop him. "No, not you. You're staying here with us" Sam growls at him.

-

Not long after, my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket to see it was Dean. I answer it, putting it on speaker. "Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you guys said" Dean tells us quickly. We share a sorrowful look as my heart drops, "When?" Sam asks. "Like minutes before I got here. I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared" Dean informs us, my gaze drops to the ground.

"What's up with your visions, guys? This wasn't even a head start" Dean asks us confused. "I don't know, okay. We can't control them. I don't know what the hell going on" I tell him stumped. "Listen, you two were with Andy when this whole thing went down. So it can't be him. It's gotta be somebody else doing this" Dean points out the obvious.

My eyes flicker over to Andy, "But that doesn't make any sense" Sam mutters. "What else is knew?" Dean quips back. "I'll dig around here, see what else I can find" He tells us before hanging up. Me and Sam share a look before turning back to Andy, "We gotta tell him" Sam says. "Yeah, we do" I sigh as we both step towards Andy to give him 'the talk'.

"So, you guys get premonitions of people about to die?" Andy asks us, then turning to me. "And you could move things with your mind?" He asks me. I nod along with Sam, "Somewhat, it's a work in progress" I shrug. "That's impossible"'Andy scoffs a chuckles, not convinced by what we're telling him. Sam and I cock our eyebrows at the irony of his. "A lot of people would say the same thing about what you do" Sam scoffs.

Andy shrugs, "Death visions and telekinesis?" He asks. "Yeah" Me and Sam respond in unison. "Dudes, that sucks. The telekinesis rocks but death visions sound like hell" Andy's says a bit sympathetically. Sam and I sigh because he wasnt lying. These visions are a curse. "I mean, like when I got my mind thing? It was like a gift, you know? It was like I won the lotto" Andy chuckles.

"But you still live in a van" I scoff, his face drops at this. "I don't get it, I mean, you could have anything you ever wanted." I add. Andy smiles a bit, "I got everything I need." He says cheerfully. This guy really doesn't have a killing bone in his body, Sam and I share a look. "So you're really not a killer, huh?" Sam asks making Andy chuckle. "That's what I've been trying to tell you guys" He laughs.

His laughter was contagious, earning chuckles from me and Sam. "That's good. That means there's hope you all of us" I say softly. The Impala pulls up next to us right after. We all get up and walk towards it as Dean jumps out, shutting the door behind him. "Victims name was Holly Beckett, 41, single." Dean tells us all the information he got on the woman from our vision. "Who is she?" Sam turns to Andy.

"Never heard of her" Andy shrugs. "Called Ash on the way over here. He came up with a little something." Dean begins. "Apparently Holly Beckett gave birth when she was 18 years old back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy" He then turns to Andy as he gulps. "Andy, were you adopted?" I ask him. "Well, yeah." Andy answers as if it were obvious.

"You were? And you neglected to mention that?" Dean scoffs sarcastically. "Never really came up" Andy says defensively. "I mean, I never really knew my birth parents. And like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby" He says and then thinks for a second, "Wait, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my- ?" Andy stutters.

"I don't know. I tried to get a copy of the birth records. But they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office" Dean tells him. "Well, screw that" Andy sighs. An idea pops in my head and a smirk rises to my face, "Maybe we've got something that can help" I cross my arms over my chest, all the boys give me questioning looks as my smirk widens.

________________________________

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here" The security guard says to Andy who has his hand on his back, guiding him out of the room. We're now in the county office and thanks to my brilliant plan of using Andy's mind controlling power thingy, we got into the office undetected. "No, it'll all be fine. Alright, just go get a cup of coffee. Alright?" Andy tells the guard as he exits the room.

"And these aren't the droids you're looking for" He adds earning a chuckle from Dean. "Awesome!" Dean exclaims, bringing a box over to us while me and Sam are sat at a table in the office, sifting through files. "Got it" Sam says. "Yeah?" Me and Dean ask. "Yeah." Sam responds, handing me the paper. I sigh as I read over the file, "Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother" I tell him apologetically.

Andy scoffs in disbelief, "Does anyone have a Vicodin?" He asks ironically. "Dr. Jennings was her doctor too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption" Sam adds, shaking his head. "You have a solid connection to both of them" I say, looking over at Andy. "But I didn't kill them" Andy tries to explain.

"We believe you" Dean assures him. Me and Sam look over at him before nodding, "Yeah" Sam says. "But uh, who did?" Dean asks the pending question. My eyebrows raised as I read the file further, "Here's an idea" I said out loud, handing Sam back the file. His expression mimicked mine, "Holly Beckett gave birth to twins" Sam mutters, Deans face drops as Andy jaw practically touches the ground.

We decided to go through the record of the adoption, Andy leaned back into his chair still stunned from the discovery. His hands rested above his head as his internal panic session progressed. "I have an evil twin" Andy mutters fearfully. Me and Dean were leant against the printer, waiting for a picture of Andy's evil twin to be printed but it was jammed. My arms were crossed over my chest, Dean next to me, his arm resting behind me, propped on the printer.

Sam came over with a file of the adoption in his hands. "Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate" Sam explained. Resting the file onto of the box infront of Andy, leaning against it. Andy closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Hey, Andy. How you doing?" Dean asked him when he noticed his clear discomfort.

"You still with us?" I ask him calmly. Andy snapped out of whatever trance he was in, taking his hands off his head as he leaned forward on the table. "Uh...what was my brothers name?" Andy asks Sam. "Here. Um...Anson Weems" Sam reads off of the file but Andy doesn't seem to recognize the name. "He's got a local address" Sam says. "He-he lives here?" Andy stutters panicked.

The printer behind us beeps, indicting it's ready. "About to get a look at him" Dean tells him turning around to face the printer, "There's a picture coming over from the DMV right now" Dean adds, pulling the paper out of the printer. His face drops when he takes a look at the picture, he then hands the paper to me and my stomach sinks from the familiar face.

"Hate you kick you while you're freaked, hun" I say sympathetically to Andy. He scoffs shaking his head as I hand him the paper. "Take a look at that" I tell him, Andy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and disbelief when he saw who Anson was. His jaw was practically on the ground. Anson was Webber from the diner, who was bragging about Andy and kept trying to make conversation with us.

________________________________

We were all now headed to the diner in a rush to stop Webber from hurting anyone else. Sam was riding shotgun while I was in the back with Andy, behind Sam. "Alright, Andy. Tell us everything you know about this guy" Sam says. Andy had his hand and chin propped on the front seat backrest, leaning forward. I was leaned back because my head would not stop killing me, it felt as though another vision was coming on and I could see Sam grab his head too, cringing in pain.

"I mean, not much. Webber shows up one day, like, eight months ago. Acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kind of weird, like trying too hard. You know?" Andy explains. "He must've known you guys were twins. But why did he change his name? Why not just tell the truth?" Dean queries. "No idea" Andy mutters.

I gasp loudly when the sharp pain in my head expanded, Sam did the same groaning. Sucking in breath between our teeth from the agony. "Sam? Y/N?" Dean calls out for us concerned. I winced in pain, pressing my palm to my forehead as the familiar white light flashed over my eyes.

Tracy, the girl we questioned in the diner, was walking barefoot on a dam, tears streaming down her face.

She went to the ledge of it before taking a look down at the empty trench below, only concrete down the dark steep.

She begins to sob again before looking behind her. She then shakily climbs up onto the ledge, as if she's being mind-controlled.

Extending her arms out, taking a deep rugged breath before jumping off the ledge of the dam.

The pain worsens when the vision was over, tears formed at my eyes as me and Sam screamed and grunted from the agony. "Sam?! Y/N?!" Dean yells concerned before pulling over the Impala, getting out and rushing over to our sides, Sam opened the door as I pressed my throbbing forehead to the front seat backrest to support my weight while Dean held Sam by his shoulder to keep him from falling out of the car.

________________________________

After we told Dean about our vision, we made him turn back and head to the dam we saw, using Sam's map to find the only one around the area. We finally made it, hopefully in time. Dean put the Impala in park, both him and Sam got out and I did after, shutting the door behind me. Our eyes were trained on Webber/Anson's car. Dean got his keys out to open the trunk, leaning down to unlock it.

"Dean, you should stay back" I suggest as me and Sam walked over to the trunk. "No argument here. I've had my head screwed with enough for one day" Dean mutters back in response, lifting the trunk up. Sam leaned down and got out two guns, handing me one. "I'm coming with you guys" Andy says determined after getting out of the car.

Sam and I share a look at this before shaking our heads. "Andy, no" Sam denies but Andy presses. "If it's Tracy out there....then I'm coming" He said shakily, taking a deep breath. He seemed pretty broken up about the whole thing. I sighed before nodding, "He could help, Sam" I say to him. Sam turns to me, "We could break the car window, hold Webber at gunpoint and Andy could grab Tracy" I suggest.

"Yeah, that could work" Sam nods in agreement. "Dean, you got duct tape?" I turn to Dean. "Yeah, one sec" Dean replied, digging through the trunk before tossing me the tape from his duffle. I hand it to Andy, "Gag the sucker" I tell him firmly. He gives me an obedient nod before we cocked our guns, slowly approaching Webbers car, we give each other a look before nodding firmly.

Andy walked slowly around to the passenger's side before Sam shattered the drivers side window with his gun, startling both Webber and Tracy. The glass coated Webbers jacket. "Get out the car! Now!" I shout loudly at them, our guns cocked at Webber. "You really don't wanna do this" Webber tries to mind control us. I scoff, rolling my eyes before right hooking him in his nose, through the broken window.

Andy then opened the passenger side door, "Tracy. Come here, come here"'Andy helps her out of the car. "Andy! I can't- I couldn't control myself" She squeals fearfully, sobbing uncontrollably. Sam roughly pulled Webber out of the car, tossing him to the ground. Webber tried to break out of Sam's headlock but I gun butted him to the eye. "Don't move! Don't move!" I order him, pressing the barrel of my gun to his temple.

Andy ran over and duct taped Webbers mouth, he then started to kick him in his stomach and face."No! No!" I yell as I try to hold Andy back to stop him from damaging Webber further. "I will kill you!" Andy screams at Webber vengefully. Andy was stronger than me so Sam stepped in to help. "Hey, let us handle this, alright?!" Sam tries to calm him down but Andy screams, "No!".

"We'll handle this! We'll handle this!" I assure him loudly. "I will kill you!!!" Andy screams at Webber with pure rage and hatred. "Andy, listen to me. Listen to m-" Sam suddenly stops with a grunt, due to being knocked with a log from Tracy. My eyes widened and my heart stopped. Sam's limp body hit to the ground with a thud and I turned swiftly to Tracy with wide eyes, my instincts told me to shoot Webber, but when I went to do exactly that, I was welcomed to darkness by a sharp pain in my own head.

Third Person POV

After Webber used his mind control to compel Tracy to knock Sam and Y/N unconscious, Andy's eyes widen with fear when he saw Tracy wielding the log in her hands sobbing uncontrollably. "Tracy stop!" Andy exclaims before using his verbal commands. "I said, stop it" He ordered, compelling her.

Tracy's posture changed, dropping the log. Andy then turned to his illegitimate twin brother. Webber grunts, peeling the tape from his mouth, blood dripping from the side of his eyes from when y/n gun butted him and Andy kicked his face in. He spits blood from his mouth, grunting painfully.

"How did you do that?" Andy gulps fearfully, realizing Webber compelled her without using words, even with the tape on his mouth, he still mind controlled her. "Practice, bro" Webber shrugs smugly, "If you'd just practice, you would know" He adds, opening his arms wide. He tosses the tape on the ground, sniffling blood, "Sometimes, you don't need to use your words. If you have to.." He walks closer to Andy.

Pointing to his temple, "...all you need this this. Sometimes the headaches worth it" Webber says as if it's normal. Andys hateful gaze narrows at Webber, "You son of a bitch" He growls, going to attack him. He snatched him by his collar but Webber pushes him back. "Back off, Andy, or Tracy's gonna do a little flying" Webber warned him menacingly.

Andy turns back in fear to see Tracy standing on the ledge, just like Sam and Y/N's vision. Tracy shakes in visual fear from being on the ledge, inches away from sudden death. "Aren't you, Trace?" Webber mocks. Andy turns back to Webber with pleading eyes, "I'm stronger than you, I can do it" Webber warns him, gritting his teeth.

Andy lets go of him and puts his hands up in surrender, backing away, "Okay, okay. Okay" He agrees hesitantly, turning back to Tracy and then to Webber. "Alright, just please don't hurt her" Andy please to his brother. "Don't be mad at me, okay? I know, it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen. It's just..." Webber tries to explain, taking a deep breath.

"Tracy, she's trying to come between us." Webber says. Andy looks at him in disbelief, "You're insane" Andy mutters, shaking his head. "She's garbage. Man, they all are. We can push them. We can make them do whatever we want!" Webber defends. Andy is so taken back by this, he chuckled at his brother's idiocy, "Are you- are you really this stupid? Is it-?" Andy chuckles unamused, his hands still up in surrender.

"Yo-you learn you got a twin, you call him up. Y-you, you go out for a drink. You don't start killing people!" Andy exclaims at the irony. "I wanted to tell you for so long, bro. But....he didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time-" Webber tries to explain but Andy is confused. Sam and Y/N begin to come to, their heads pounding from the log lash.

"Who?!" Andy exclaims again as Y/N holds her head. "The man with the yellow eyes" Webber tells him. Sam and Y/N share a terrified look on the ground. Their hearts dropped, "He came to me, in my dream. He said I was special" Webber explains to Andy, stepping closer to his brother. Andy was even more confused and terrified, horror etched on his face.

"He told me he's got big plans for me." Webber smiles excitedly, grabbing his brother by his shirt. "Wait till you see what's in store for us, Andy, for both of us" Webber informs him, Andy backs away in fear, putting his hands back up as he glares at Webbers hands on his shirt. "See, he's the one who told me that I had a brother. A twin" Webber says lovingly, now grabbing Andy's face between his palms, but his face was blank.

Unbeknownst to them, Dean was on the other side of the dam with his sniper, he crouched down to camouflage himself in some bushes to get a clear shot at Webber.

"Why did you kill our mother?" Andy asks, Webber scoffs, pulling away from his brother. "Andy why Dr. Jennings?" Andy presses. "Because they spilt us up!" Webber bellows, causing Andy to flinch. "They ruined our lives, Andy! We could've been together this whole time." He adds angrily, his tone pained. "Instead of alone. I couldn't let them do that, I couldn't let the get away with that!" Webber defends.

Andy's face was still blank, yet fearful. Not knowing how to feel in this entire situation. "No" Webber sniffles, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, Dean had set up his sniper, a clear shot at Webber. His eye peeking into the scope. But somehow, Webber knew. He felt eyes on him, similar to how y/n feels. He turnt around and narrowed his eyes in Deans direction, though Dean was camouflaged, Webber still saw him. "I see you" Webber whispers, his control traveling the distance.

"Bye-bye" Webber smirks, compelling Dean to kill himself. Dean then turns to sniper to himself, pressing the barrel of the gun below his chin. A loud gunshot rings out but it wasn't Deans. Andy stood behind his brother who fell to the ground with a thud, dead. A smoking gun in between his hands. When Webber wasn't looking, Andy took Y/N's gun from the ground.

Killing his own brother, his own flesh and blood. Who had become a monster, killing and terrorizing innocent people. Tracy, who was still on the ledge, sobbed as Andy shook with fear and distaste at the fact he just killed someone.

________________________________

The next morning, police and ambulance was crowding the dam. The coroners were wheeling Webbers dead body out as Andy 'talked' to the investigating officers. "He shot himself. And you all saw it happen" Andy compelled the three deputies. "Yeah, we did" One of the officers nodded as Sam, Dean and Y/N sat not too far from the scene, leaned against the ledge, amazed.

"Look at him. He's getting better at it" Sam says a bit proud, shaking his head as Andy smirks to himself. He then began to walk over to them, he spotted Tracy who was by an ambulance, she didn't dare look at him and it broke his heart but he couldn't blame her. He gave her a small sad smile before approaching the trio.

"Won't even look at me" Andy sighs, speaking about Tracy. "Yeah, she's pretty shaken up" Y/N says sympathetically. "No, it's- This is different. This is, uh..." Andy stutters. "I never used my mind thing on her before last night." Andy admits, earning sympathetic gazes from the three hunters. "She's scared of me now." Andy sighs pained. The three share a look before Sam decides to break the silence.

"Andy, I hate to do this, but, um...We have to get out of here." Sam says honestly. Andy scoffs a chuckle though understands, y/n then digs into her pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it to Andy who accepts, "Here hun, I wrote down my cell and Sam's. You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, you call either of us up" She instructs him gently.

Andy nods, as they walk away, but he's stumped. "Wha..what- what am I supposed to do now?" He scoffs chuckling, at a complete lost. The three turn to him. "You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back" Dean lightly warns him. They begin to walk back to the Impala as Sams one's swirls, "Looks like we were right" Sam says. "About what?" Y/N asks. "Andy" Sam responds as if it's obvious.

"He's a killer after all" He adds, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. Y/N looked down, hating the fact that she felt the same way. Dean cocked his eyebrow at this, "No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved my life" Dean defends. Sam and Y/N scoff, "Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody"Sam retorts. Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was just- he was pushed into that" Dean adds.

They look at him in disbelief. "Webber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by dad's death and Sam was pushed by Jessica's death" Y/N lists off in a counter attack. "What's your point, guys?" Dean scoffs, turning to them, stopping from their stroll to the Impala. "Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone" Y/N points out as Dean listens.

"Maybe that's what the demons doing, pushing us, finding ways to break use" Sam rambles on. "Guys, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it" Dean says calmly, patting them both on their shoulders. They still can't believe how nonchalant he's acting but they know deep down he's scared. "You know, we heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just ask scared of this as we are" Sam calls him out of his bullshit as they approach the Impala.

"That was mind control" Dean exclaims defensively. "It's-its like being roofied, man. It doesn't count" He further defends pointing at them, y/n cocks her eyebrow, shaking her head, "What?" She scoffed. "No- no. I'm calling do-over" Dean lamely shuts it down. Y/N rolls her eyes, "What are you? Seven?" Sam scoffs in disbelief at Deans childishness.

"Alright, look. We just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it" Dean says causally, the ringing of his phone cuts their conversation. "Yeah, I guess" Y/N mutters, sharing a look with Sam. She jumps in the back as Sam rides shotgun while Dean answers his phone. "Hello?" He answers, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Ellen, what's going on" He responds to Ellen on the other line. He listens for a bit , his face dropping. "Yeah, we'll be right there" He clears his throat, jumping into the Impala.

________________________________

The trio ended up back up at Harvelle's Roadhouse, the Impala parked outside, infront. "Jo" Ellen calls out to her daughter who's carrying a tray of plates. "Go pull up another case of beers" She orders her, "Mom-" Jo groans but Ellen cuts her off. "Now, please" She says firmly, wiping her hands with a bar cloth. Jo sighs, doing as told while Ellen walks up to the trio, sat at the bar.

"So you, uh, wanna tell me about this last hunt of yours?" She leans against the counter, her tone suspicious. They all share a look before Dean shakes his head. "Nope, not really" Dean says honestly, sipping his beer. Ellen glares at him, causing him to gulp a bit in fear. While Sam and y/n glare at him because of his rude tone. "No offense. It's just kind of a family thing" He reassures her kinder.

"Not anymore" Ellen says, tossing a folder of papers infront of Sam and y/n. "I got this stuff from Ash." She says suspiciously, turning to Dean. "Andrew Gallaghers house burned down on his 6-month birthday. Just like your houses." Ellen points out what's in the files as the look down guiltily. "You think it was the demon all times, don't you? It went after Gallaghers family?" She questions. Dean smirks, not wanting to answer.

"Yeah, we think so" Sam admits. "Sam" Dean warns him. "Why?" Ellen asks Sam. "None of your business" Dean retorts to Ellen bluntly. "Dean" Y/N warns him, her eyes widen from his defensive and brutal tone. Ellen's eyes flicker over to Dean, "You mind your tongue with me, boy." Ellen warns him firmly, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Now, this isn't just your war, this is war. Something big and bad is coming and it's coming fast. And their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half truths here" Ellen lays all the cards on the table out for them. They all share a look before Sam begins. "There are people out there. Like Andy Gallagher..." He says lowly. "Like us" Y/N adds, noticing Sams somber look.

"And um...we all have some kind of ability" Sam says. "Ability?" Ellen questions. They nod, "Yeah. Psychic ability" Y/N gulps, earning a displeased sigh Dean. "Me and y/n/n, we have, um, visions. Premonition. And y/n/n could move things with her mind. Telekinesis. She can also sense spirits and demons. But we think those came from her mom. I don't know, it's-it's different for everybody" Sam explains sighing as Ellen listens.

"The demon said he had plans for people like us" Y/N tells Ellen, this catches her attention. "What kind of plans?" Ellen asks. "We don't really know for sure" Y/N shrugs. "These people out there, these psychics. They dangerous?" Ellen questions. "No. Not all of them" Dean chimes in. "But some are. Some are very dangerous" Y/N adds. "Okay, how many of them we looking at?" Ellen asks.

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far" Dean answers, leaning against the bar counter. "They've all had house fires, the night of the kid's 6-month birthday." Dean continues. "That's not true" Sam cuts in. "What?" Dean asks confused. "Webber, or Andron Weems, or whatever his name is. Me and Sam looked at his files and there was no house fire" Y/N tells him.

"There's nothing out of the ordinary" Sam adds. Dean is taken back by the breakage of pattern, "Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd nothing in the system. No way to track them all down" Ellen voices his thoughts as her daughter comes besides her. All their heads were bowed in defeat, "And so who knows how many of them are really out there" Dean mutters.

"Jo, honey" Ellen says to her daughter. "Yeah?" Jo responds. "You better break out the whiskey instead" She tells her. Jo does so as they all say there, stumped. A sense of defeat at the fact that they don't know how many freaks are out there. Unsure what to do or how to proceed in finding the yellow eyed demon.

________________________________

Authors Note: I know, I suck!😭 I've just been swamped with so much crap, it's a shit storm over here lol. But I made sure to finish up so I hope you guys enjoyed!

Thank you for your patience and thank you for reading, have an amazing week❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28

Xoxo

[shallowseeker]

OKAY HERE WE GO

In a season that heavily hangs with issues of power dynamics and class, Sam meets his match in Rowena, and he immediately enters into a power struggle with her.

In his dogged pursuit TO FIX THE THING, Sam is becom like Magnus, like Mr. Cuthbert. In his trying to tame Rowena this season, he becomes the most MEN OF LETTERS he have ever seen him:

The Men of Letters is the masculine-stereotyped "Warlock," the match to the often feminine-stereotyped Witch.

They hoard knowledge and manipulate others to do their dirty work. (Importantly: Because they've been hurt, and because they're afraid.)

We think back to the line in Paint it Black:

OLIVETTE: Hoarding unbelievable power for their own amusement. Smug, self-righteous bastards. The Men of Letters. ... ROWENA: I see the truth, and it’s pathetic. You let these Men Of Letters pillage the greatest trove of magical secrets in the world and did nothing.

///

We see in The Werther Project what happens when a MoL goes "bad:"

///

A Man of Letters isn't just a class divide here; it's set up to be Rowena's natural enemy.

The MAN OF LETTERS one of Rowena's symbolic bulls. Sam is a "bull" to her flaming "matador."

But when faced with him, Rowena doesn't know quite what she wants to do. Kill the bull? Subdue the bull?

Ride the bull?

///

Rowena can't help but be intrigued.

And ah, look. It's the symbolic family diner... They are flanked by checkerboards, not dartboards. For better or worse, The family diner is the Family Diner for a reason. I think it's notable that they're meeting here and not there. (You'd expect them to meet in a more neutral SPN space, like *bar/Roadhouse of Good Pals.")

Anyhoo, immediately we see that Sam doesn't balk at Rowena's monstrosity. He isn't even taken aback by her darkest of motivations/emotions:

She certainly looks taken aback.

When she looks at him, she sees an ugliness.

(Crucially, it is what DRIVES this ugliness that will really wind up drawing her closer to Sam in the end).

///

For now, they start trying to impress each other with their brains.

Her initial instinct is to flutter and try to impress him.

///

When she reveals she can't read the book in its present form without a codex, Sam immediately starts his power play, shutting the book.

This forces her to parry, and parry she does!

Flawlessly:

ROWENA: "You're desperate. You can stop pretending you're not."

As they talk business, both of their eyebrows rise, interested despite trying not to be:

*eyebrow raise*

///

She talks of a witch who was victimized, Nadya:

And this further underlines what will become their power struggle. Sam will become his worst self, putting the boot on her neck, becoming the worst kind of MAN OF LETTERS.

///

Later, Sam calls her, and she can't help it, but she's excited. She's quick to match brains with him, and what leaks out?

Her desperate need for friends that challenge her.

And he's intrigued, too, but the lure of their mutual dark ambition.

"Great. Thanks."

Sensing a GOODBYE, Rowena is startled to discover that she doesn't want him to hang up. (Rowena is, at heart, a loser who has to struggle making friends.)

She stammers, then she practically engages in a bit of HAIR TWIRLING HERE:

He shuts her down: "I'll take my chances."

She scoffs, disappointed.

///

Ultimately, she can't resist trying to goad and challenge Sam—to "Toro, Toro" him and try to tame what he represents.

We see Crowley do this, too. His play is to goad and mouth off, especially when he's bitten off more than he can chew and is trying to convince everyone that he's "the top in the relationship."

///

As for the rest of the episodes...

Sam's subconscious knows that witchcraft can be incredibly evil, but he can't help want to strive for ambition, for power, for hidden knowledge, for EVERYTHING. Sam is like a Solomonari in this way. The SCHOLOMONAR. (Tradition says they became the Devil's students, either being instructed by him, or becoming a servant to his commands It's actually a bit different when you get deeper,but that's at least the Westernized version of it.)

As Dean longs for a "simple" world of 24/7-360 total war where he does warfare "all he's good for" without consequence, Sam longs for a world where he can think and strive to achieve ANYTHING without consequence.

A world where Sam can admire Rowena's and Mr. Cuthbert's brains without feeling guilty:

ROWENA (figment): "I know what I'd said about your kind (Men of Letters), but oh. The man who came up with this? The craftsmanship of the box, the sadism of the spellwork... It's all so... deliciously baroque."

There is a direct line being drawn between Sam... and Magnus. (And Rowena, tangentially.)

In Sam's mindscape, he gets to do what he feels he is good for: the pursuit of knowledge. Dean is the ultimate soldier without the need for decision-making, and Sam wants to be the ultimate librarian without consequence.

With that in mind, he also wants to impress Rowena, to impress someone who's brain he found impressive:

He wants to crack a code with her. Together. To show her that he knows things, can figure out things.

But he's also in a (sexual) power struggle with her. Thus, the need for witch-killing bullets... and to see her in chains.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Simon Said | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: mind control, canon violence, canon gore, consent lines blurry bc mind control but nothing happens to the reader, mind control attempted suicide

Word Count: 5301

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this,” Dean said, trying to soothe his brother.

Sam had another vision while he was washing his face a state or two back. Dean was having to be the level-headed one at this moment because Sam was a complete basketcase. “What's there to think about?” the latter asked.

“I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea,” Dean replied.

“I agree. I like ‘em, but I don’t trust any of them enough yet to tell them about this,” you said earnestly. 

“Guys, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where,” Sam protested. “Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”

“That’s my point,” Dean said. “There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a— a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”

“So I'm a freak now?”

You gritted your teeth awkwardly.

Dean slapped Sam on the thigh. “You've always been a freak,” he smiled weakly. 

You looked at Sam concernedly, and it seemed he couldn’t keep still even if his life depended on it.

“Sam, it’s gonna be fine, I promise,” you said. 

He looked back at you, offering a small smile at your attempt to comfort him. You could tell he was unconvinced.

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo bounded up to you and the brothers. “Just can't stay away, huh?” she grinned to Dean.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew your jealousy was baseless but still could barely hold it at bay.

“Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?” the older brother asked her.

Sam hurriedly asked, “Where’s Ash?”

“In his back room,” Jo replied.

He brushed past her wordlessly.

Jo turned after him, watching him go. “And I'm fine…”

“Sorry, he's, we're... kind of on a bit of a timetable,” Dean explained, following after his brother. You nodded and gave a closed-lip smile to Jo, who returned it, before heading after Dean.

You arrived at a door labeled, “ Dr. Badass is: IN.” You snorted at the sign, and Sam knocked on the door. “Ash? Hey, Ash?”

Moments passed; no answer. You knocked, this time saying, “Hey, Dr. Badass?”

The door unlatched and opened a crack to reveal a stark naked Ash. You averted your eyes, feeling intensely uncomfortable.

“Sam? Dean?” Ash sounded high. “Sam and Dean. And (Y/N). Hey, (Y/N).”

You laughed awkwardly, still turned away from Ash standing in the doorway. “Hey, Ash. Um. We need your help.”

“Well, hell, then! Guess I need my pants.” He shut the door, and you and the brothers turned to move back to the bar.

Sam described the scene from his dream and drew a logo of the bus he saw in his dream. Ash sat at a table with his homemade laptop and somehow found the logo based off Sam’s drawing. “Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Okay. Do me a favor—” Sam began. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that.”

“You think the demon's there?” Ash asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

Dean gruffly replied, “Just check it, alright?”

You shot him a look, as did Ash. He obliged, though, and said, “No, sir, nothing. No demon.”

“Alright, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday,” Sam said.

You looked around for eavesdroppers, only to find Jo cleaning a table nearby and watching your group.

“Okay, now that is just weird, man,” Ash protested. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”

Sam pulled out a beer and set it next to his laptop. “'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya.”

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Ash replied, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

You sat next to Ash as he continued his work, and Dean left to get a beer from Ellen. Suddenly, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started playing from the jukebox. You turned your head to the source of the sound and found Jo sauntering over to a horrified-looking Dean at the bar. Your blood boiled, but you just looked back at Ash and his computer. However, you didn’t register anything he was saying or scrolling through.

All you could think about was Jo’s attempted flirting with Dean. Technically, neither party were doing anything wrong; you and Dean had agreed to be friends for the time being. But you were furious at the thought of the two of them together. How disrespectful would that be for Dean to get with Jo days after saying he wanted you and agreed to be friends for now? Your jaw clenched, and you clutched your beer tighter.

Sam snapped in front of your face. “(Y/N), let’s go.”

You broke out of your thoughts and grabbed Dean’s jacket, pulling him along with you.

“See ya, Jo,” you called over your shoulder, stomping out of the bar with Dean in tow. 

Dean chuckled at you, gently shrugging you off him. He stooped down to your level and whispered lowly, “Jealous?”

You jerked away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “No.”

He just smirked in response and kissed the side of your head. “Sure, sweetheart.” He then walked ahead of you to the Impala. 

You froze, flustered and unappreciative of the effect he had on you. “Dean—!”

***

“Sam, you can’t tell me Lord of the Rings is better than Erin Brockovich,” you argued with the younger brother. The two of you had been locked in a heated debate on your favorite movies of recent years, and these two were the next in question.

“(Y/N/N),” Sam started, “Lord of the Rings is based on six books of Tolkein’s experience in World War I, and Erin Brockovich is—”

“Two hours of fuckin’ perfection,” you cut him off. “Julia Roberts acted those other bitches under the table.”

“But the worldbuilding, (Y/N), it’s not even comparable!” 

“Yeah, if you stick around long enough to learn about it. It’s a snoozefest from start to finish,” you giggled.

He scoffed. “Okay, what about—”

“If you two keep talkin’ film nerd, I’m gonna kill myself,” Dean grumbled.

“Killjoy. If it’s not eighties horror, you’re not interested, huh?” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat. 

Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Did you actually read anything back there, or….?” 

“I did, thank you very much.” You pulled the stack of papers on the seat next to you into your lap. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like Sam. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like Sam.”

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean asked.

“Sure looks like it,” Sam responded.

“How did you even know to look for this guy?” Dean asked you.

“Well, Sam’s visions have all been attached to the demon or the other kids—”

“Like Max Miller, remember him?” Sam cut you off.

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho.”

“Well, yeah, but my point is, he was killing people,” you began.

Sam continued, “And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”

Dean asked, “How do we find him?”

You blew air out through your pursed lips. “Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills; phone, credit, utilities—”

“Collection agency flags?” the older brother questioned.

“None in the system.”

“They just let him take a walk?”

You shrugged. “Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2; about a year ago. Let's start there.”

***

You and the brothers stopped at a coffee shop dressed in your “formal attire” to question a girl you knew to be friends with Andrew Gallagher about his whereabouts. 

“You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do,” she said.

“ ‘They’?” Sam asked.

She tilted her head in confusion. “You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back.”

“Actually we're- we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, god rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate,” Dean lied. “Are you a friend of his?”

“I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

A man came up behind the bashful woman. “Andy? Andy kicks ass, man.”

“Is that right?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once; it was beautiful, bro.”

The woman turned to him. “How about bussing a table or two, Weber?”

“Yeah. You bet, boss.” The man named Weber turned away.

“Look,” the woman sighed, “if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side.”

“Barbarian queen?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss.”

***

She was right. It was incredibly hard to miss. You and the Winchester boys sat in the back of the Impala, having caught sight of the blue van with the aforementioned painted on the side of it from across the street.

“I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet,” Dean grinned. He turned to his brother. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon, what's going on?”

The brunet sighed. “This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people.”

“We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, alright? He could be innocent,” the older brother argued.

“My visions haven't been wrong yet.”

“Sam, you’re not one of them, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you said.

“(Y/N), the demon said he had plans for me and children like me,” he replied. “Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be—”

Dean scoffed. “What, killers? So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones.”

“No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

“Sam, that’s different,” you chimed in. “We kill shit that’s already dead. Or… undead. Or… not human— What are you looking at?”

“Got him,” was all Sam replied with. He nodded toward a man walking down the road in a robe, sandals, and baggy pants. The man in question blew a kiss up at a beautiful woman in lingerie leaning out of a window and waving down at him, got a coffee from some random guy he was passing, and then, shook hands with another. 

“That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter,” Sam rushed out, referencing the man Andy had shaken hands with.

“Alright, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go.” Sam got out of the car at his older brother’s command.

“We will?” you asked, climbing over the front seat. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Dean followed Andy— who had just climbed into his ostentatious van and began to drive off— closely. 

A few minutes of following the man into a suburban area later, the van stopped in the middle of the road and approached the Impala. You discreetly handed Dean his gun from the glovebox and tucked yours into your jacket.

Andy leaned into the rolled-down window of the Impala. “Hey.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean replied.

“This is a cherry ride,” Andy grinned. “Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”

“Yeah. Y'know, I just rebuilt her, too.”

“And who’s this gorgeous lady you got next to ya?”

“Oh, I’m (Y/N),” you smiled, suddenly not feeling right.

“Hey, can I have the car? And her, if she’ll let me?” Andy asked you and Dean.

“Sure, man,” Dean grinned, getting out of the car to let the man into the driver’s side.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, draping yourself over Andy’s shoulder. You weren’t quite sure what was happening to you, but you knew you weren’t fully in control of what you were doing.

“Take it easy,” Andy told Dean before driving off with you.

“Where ya takin’ me?” you asked him, still mentally horrified by the effect he was having on you. 

“You’ll see,” he grinned, and you settled into his shoulder as he continued to drive.

***

About ten minutes later, the man driving you around received a call that seemed to really upset him. He drove a little faster and parked the car moments later once you’d arrived in front of the café you’d first gone to when you rolled into town.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Uh, I—” he paused, sighing. “Stay here, okay?”

“Okay!” You sat patiently with your hands folded in your lap, waiting for him to come back. You suddenly seemed to realize what you’d been doing and looked around yourself, trying to gain your bearings. You were relieved to see Dean and Sam approaching you. You jumped out of the car and leapt into Dean’s arms. “Dean! What the hell, man, he full-on Obi-Wan-ed us!” You let him go and hugged Sam. “What’s wrong, dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“That guy, um, from my visions, he stepped out in front of a bus. Right after he got off the phone,” Sam explained. “We’re thinkin’ Gallagher called him.”

Your brows furrowed and stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“He would’ve had to be on the phone with you in the car,” Dean added. “Was he?”

You shook your head. “No. I mean, not until a second or two before he ditched the car and me in the front seat.”

“Did he… do anything to you?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head.

“A real Samaritan, this guy,” the brunet quipped.

You turned to Dean talking to his car. “Oh, baby, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

“Do you want a moment alone with her?” you deadpanned to Dean.

“We have a special bond,” he said after a pause. He turned back to his car. “She just doesn’t understand us.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the ends of your lips. “Anyway, he didn’t give any kind of a command over the phone. If anything, he was upset when he answered his phone not ten minutes ago. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

“Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?” Sam asked.

“Not a problem,” Dean smirked.

***

“I’ll give you that, his ride isn’t exactly ‘covert’,” you said upon finding the van again. 

Dean pulled a small crowbar out of his jacket and pried the doors of the van open with it. The opened doors revealed a disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong.

“Oh. Oh, come on. This is— this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger,” Dean chuckled in awe.

“Dean, he tried to kidnap me. And he kidnapped your car. Can we stay focused, please?” you deadpanned. You looked down at the books. 

Sam picked one up. “Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, guys.”

Dean picked up the glass object lying next to them. “Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong.”

***

Sam and Dean bickered over whether or not they thought Andy was guilty as you zoned out in the backseat. That was, until, the man in question hit the passenger’s side door, startling all three of you.

“Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice reverberating strangely in your ears.

Sam calmly began to explain. “Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw—” 

“Tell the truth!” Andy’s voice echoed in your mind.

“We hunt demons,” Dean rushed out.

Andy jerked back in surprise. “What?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded.

“He’s telling the truth,” you jumped in. “That’s Sam. He’s Dean’s brother. I’m (Y/N). I met their dad on a hunt, and, uh, here I am! I follow them everywhere because they’re my best friends and the only real family I’ve ever had, and I’m terrified of losing them, and I followed them to you.”

“(Y/N), shut up!” Sam chastised, turning to face you. 

“I’m trying,” you said.

“He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer,” Dean continued, “and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”

“Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone,” Andy said.

“Okay,” Dean nodded.

Andy walked away from the door, and Sam followed. You and Dean clutched your heads.

“Holy fuck, that hurt,” you groaned.

“Did you really mean that?” Dean asked, clutching the bridge of his nose.

“What, that this hurts?” you scoffed.

“No, about me and Sam.”

“Dude, he made me Professor-Xavier-level spill my guts,” you grumbled. “I couldn’t have lied if I tried.”

Dean gave you a confusing look, but you got out of the car, feeling embarrassed. Sam held up a hand, warning you not to come any closer. You could vaguely hear Andy and Sam arguing about the origins of their powers and the doctor’s death, but all you could focus on was what you’d just admitted.

“(Y/N)—” Dean started.

“No, Dean.” You looked up at him. “We can talk about it one day when this is all over. Just… for now, let’s not.”

He didn’t say anything, but eyed you curiously. Before either of you could say another word to each other, Sam began to collapse to the floor. You and Dean ran to him to catch him and lowered him to the asphalt.

“Sam? What is it?” Dean asked his brother, shaking him.

“Look, I didn't do anything to him—”

“We know you didn’t,” you told Andy.

Sam snapped to attention. “A woman. A woman burning alive. A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself.”

Andy’s voice rose significantly in pitch. “What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is—”

“Shut up!” you and Dean told Andy.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell,” Sam continued.

“When?”

“I don't know.” Dean helped his brother stand as he continued talking, “But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her.”

Andy raised his hands up in surrender. “I didn't hurt anybody.”

“Yeah, not yet,” you said. Your head jerked toward the sound of a fire engine roaring and flashing by you on the highway next to you.

“Go,” Sam told you and Dean. The two of you sprinted to the car and headed off to follow the firetruck.

When you arrived, you were disheartened to see the first responders trying to put out the fire, keep civilians away, and recover the charred body of the woman who had died.

Dean immediately called Sam. “Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said… Like minutes before I got here! I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start… Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it- it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this… What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else we can find.”

You and Dean roamed around talking to first responders and bystanders, posing as relatives of the woman who’d died. It was one of the things you felt guilty about in your line of work; posing as relatives of the dead to get information felt disrespectful to you. But alas, you had to, in this case.

You and Dean drove in silence back to the lot where Sam and Andy were talking on the bed of a broken truck as you rolled up. 

“Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single,” Dean explained to Sam.

“I called Ash back at the crime scene,” you began. “Said he found a Holly Beckett who gave birth when she was eighteen, back in ‘83. Same day you were born, Andy.”

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam questioned.

He nodded as if it were obvious. “Well, yeah.”

Dean glared pointedly. “You were? And you neglected to mention that?”

“Never really came up,” Andy deadpanned. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby— do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m—”

“I don't know,” you explained. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.”

Andy smirked. “Well, screw that.”

***

You and the brothers went through the drawers of file cabinets searching for phone records as Andy began leading the guards out of the room.

“Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here,” the guard said.

Andy rubbed a hand over his back. “No, it'll all be fine. Alright? Just go get a cup of coffee.” As the guard left, he continued, saying, “These aren't the 'droids you're looking for.”

You and Dean grinned. “Awesome,” the older brother said.

“I got it,” Sam said. “Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”

Andy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?”

"No Vicodin. Weed, though," you told him, offering him a joint from a pack of pre-rolls in your jacket.

Andy considered but shook his head.

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.”

“Yeah, but I— I didn't kill them,” he rushed out.

“We believe you,” Sam told him.

“But uh, who did?” Dean questioned.

“I think I got a pretty good guess,” Sam replied. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”

Andy’s jaw dropped. “I have an evil twin.” He looked to you. "I may take that joint now."

Sam began flipping through another folder of documents. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”

You looked over at the zoned-out Andy. “You okay? Still with us?”

He shook his head and looked over at you. “Um. What was my brother's name?”

Sam flipped to another page. “Here. Um, Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address.”

“He- He lives here?!”

Dean pushed a few buttons on the computer. “Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now.”

“Dean, you can barely work a toaster. How’d you find his picture from the DMV?” you asked.

He just glared at you in response. You could tell he was messing with you, though.

You pulled the paper off the printer, eyes widening as you recognized the man in the picture. “Hate to kick you while you're freaked,” you said. “Take a look at that.”

When Andy caught sight of his friend from the café Weber looking back at him from the printed off image, his jaw dropped even further in shock.

***

It was a race against the clock to find where Weber had taken Andy’s ex-girlfriend, Tracy— the woman you spoke to at the diner— after Sam had another vision about her jumping off a bridge. Sam’s visions were getting more intense and painful; poor guy. Andy directed Dean to the bridge Sam described from his vision, and the four of you climbed out of the car in unison.

“(Y/N), Dean, you should stay back,” Sam said.

“No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day,” Dean leaned against his car next to you. You watched Andy and Sam head to fend off Weber when you got an idea. “You got a Remington in the trunk? Or an FR F2?”

He smirked at you. “Have you met me?”

***

You and Dean found a spot in the trees far enough away from the scene below to get a clear shot at Weber without being able to hear one of his commands. Dean only had one FR F2, and you convinced him to hand it over to you. You were a damn near perfect shot and could easily take this guy out.

You lined up your shot, smiling smugly when you centered his head on the cross in the middle of the scope. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. Suddenly, his head turned to you. He said something you couldn’t hear, but it was enough to get you to tuck the barrel of the rifle under your chin.

“(Y/N)! Stop it!” Dean tugged on your arm and managed to wrestle it away from the trigger when another gunshot rang out. As you came back into full control of your body, your breathing labored. You dropped the gun and collapsed backward into Dean’s chest, and his arms circled you as you turned your face into him.

“I got you, I got you,” he assured you as you wound your hands around his neck and buried your face in his chest.

“C’mon, we gotta get Sammy,” Dean said, pulling you down the hill to the bridge with him. 

You found Sam passed out on the floor and sat with Dean while he did his best to wake his brother up. When he did finally awaken, the paramedics had begun to arrive. Andy’s skills were clearly developing given the way he spoke to the police about the incident.

“He shot himself. And you all saw it happen,” he told them. All of the policemen nodded in affirmation.

The paramedics fixed Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a disposable blanket around Tracy’s shoulders. You watched Tracy’s frightened gaze that she couldn’t quite meet Andy’s eyes with. You knew she wouldn’t ever see him the same, and that broke your heart a bit. Andy seemed to understand that, too.

“She won't even look at me,” he noted.

“Yeah, she's pretty shaken up,” Sam gently responded.

“No, it's— this is different. It's, uh, I never— I never used my mind-thing on her before. Before tonight. She's scared of me now.” His face fell as the words left his lips; as if it became real for him.

“Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell.” Sam handed him a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, just call me up.” 

“Wha- what am I supposed to do now?”

“You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back,” Dean stated firmly.

“Looks like I was right,” Sam said as you walked back to the car with the brothers.

“About what?” Dean questioned.

“Andy. He’s a killer after all,” he responded.

“No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved her life.” Dean pointed to you, his voice becoming firmer.

“Bottom line, he wasted somebody,” Sam argued.

“No, dude,” you jumped in. “He’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho, though. He was pushed into that. All of us would’ve died had he not.”

“Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death.”

You scoffed. “What’s your point, man?”

“Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Y'know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us,” Sam continued.

You considered Sam’s words. “I agree that everybody’s capable, but—”

Dean cut you off. “Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it.”

“You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am.” Sam turned to his brother.

Dean scoffed. “That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count.”

“What?”

“No. I'm- I'm calling do-over,” the older brother responded petulantly.

You giggled. “Are you five?”

“Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,” he told Sam.

The brunet sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Dean’s phone rang through the uncomfortable silence. “Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there.”

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo eyed Dean wantonly. You were repulsed, but you stomached your jealousy and pushed forward to Ellen. “What’s going on?” you asked her. 

She motioned for you to sit at the bar. You did so, confused. 

“Jo?” Ellen called to her daughter from behind the bar. “Go pull up another case of beer.”

“Mom,” she groaned.

Ellen stared her down. “Now. Please.”

As Jo left, Ellen leaned across the bar in front of you and the boys. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing.”

“Not anymore,” she responded. She dropped a stack of papers on the bar in front of you. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?”

Sam answered before Dean could. “Yeah, we think so.”

“Sam—” Dean scolded.

“Why?” Ellen asked.

You began, “Ellen, you’re lovely and all, but this really isn’t—”

She cut you off. “You mind your tongue with me, girl. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.”

You eyed her warningly as Sam spoke. “There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability.”

“Ability?” Ellen asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's- it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.”

“What kind of plans?”

“We don't really know for sure.”

“These people out there; these psychics— they dangerous?”

You and Dean jumped in quickly. “No.” Dean finished by saying, “Not all of them.”

Sam eyed his brother. “But some are. Some are very dangerous.”

“Okay, how many of them are we looking at?”

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday,” Dean explained.

“That's not true,” Sam told his brother.

You turned to him, confused.

“Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is— I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary,” he explained.

Ellen took yours and Dean’s shock as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down.”

“And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?” Sam added.

Jo walked up behind you and the boys.

“Jo, honey?” her mom said. “You'd better break out the whiskey instead.”

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

[leossmoonn]

In love with ur Mike writings<33 can you write something about spending your first thanksgiving with Mike and Abby?

thank you :D and yes omg i love this idea!

bro this lowk angsty but it has a happy ending lol

————

thanksgiving was not something mike really did. he wasn’t really thankful for anything in his life — besides abby, of course. he hated his job, his house, his car, his nightmares. and even though abby and mike butt heads sometimes — all the time — he was thankful he had somebody like her to keep him getting out of bed in the morning and working. he started to feel just a tad better about his life when you came into the picture.

on the holidays, usually mike would take abby out to restaurants to have a meal. granted, abby rarely ate anything, but they both collectively agreed that it was special. but now that you were with mike, things changed.

“do you cook during thanksgiving?” you ask a week before the holiday.

“um, no,” mike shakes his head. “we usually go to like, applebee’s or something.”

“oh, how fancy,” you tease. mike chuckles softly and nods. “it’s a lot less expensive, believe it or not. we rarely go out anyways, so it’s like a little treat for us.”

“i see,” you hum. “would you want to continue your little tradition?”

he shrugs, “i don’t know why we wouldn’t. we have nothing better to do.”

“i could think of something,” you say. he glances at you. “you can come with us, if that’s what you were thinking. you’re always invited out with abby and i.”

you can’t help but smile. god, he’s so cute when he’s clueless. you take his hand and he turns his full attention from the tv to you.

“i was thinking we could have a proper thanksgiving.”

mike’s heart stops. “uh, uhm… no, it’s fine. it would take all day to cook and abby might not even eat anything. that’s so much food and money wasted.”

“don’t you worry about the money. i got it covered,” you take his hand in yours. “and we can cut down the portions. make a small thanksgiving meal and make just enough to have leftovers the next day. i think it would be fun. i can start cooking tonight, even.”

mike sucks in a breath, hesitating to say yes, even though he wants to. he hasn’t had a thanksgiving dinner since before garrett disappeared. it’s so painful for him to think of his last thanksgiving. it’s one of the last happy memories he has with his family. and now you want to do it with him, which was just another issue in itself for mike.

he’s not used to people doing things for him. and when they do, he pushes them away.

albeit, he’s started to get used to accepting favors and help, and it’s all thanks to you. all the dinner dates you’ve gone on, you’ve probably paid in full for half of them, and split the check on the rest. you’ve paid for every sporting event you’ve taken mike to. you’ve bought him clothes he obviously wanted, but kept insisting he didn’t want them because they costed money. he always feels terrible because it should be the other way around, but you’ve always assured him that you don’t mind. you love spoiling him because you truly thinks he deserves it. and he always makes up for it with little things like buying you flowers, gift cards, and sweet treats.

something about spending thanksgiving with you just makes him nervous and uncomfortable. thanksgiving for him reminds him of family and he hasn’t had a family since he was a kid. if he starts to think of you, abby and him as a family, he’s afraid that it’ll disappear just like it has before. but he knows what happened was a decade or so ago. he’s not the same little boy he was. abby’s safe with him and you. he knows he’s safe with you.

“sure,” he nods slowly. “are you sure, mike?” you ask, knowing exactly what’s going through his head. “we really don’t have to. we can go to applebee’s or texas roadhouse or something. i just… i think it would be nice.”

he nods in agreement. “no, i do, too. really. i-i’m excited.” there is truth in his words and you can see it in the twinkle in his eyes.

“great! tell me every dish you like for thanksgiving and what abby might like, and we shop for ingredients tonight!”

the next day went surprisingly well. you showed up at mike’s at the ass crack of dawn, awake and ready to bake and cook all day. you made all of mike’s favorites: green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, ham, and peach pie. you both agreed to make abby some spaghetti and meatballs and cookies as a back up plan.

“do you we want to say what we are all thankful for or dig in?” you ask.

“let’s dig in!” abby exclaims. you chuckle and move to cut her some ham, but mike stops you. “let’s, uh, say what we are thankful for first.”

abby groans, “i’m hungry.” “please, abs. the food won’t disappear,” mike says.

she nods and complies, placing her hands in her lap.

“abby, why don’t you start,” you suggest.

“okay,” she nods. “i’m thankful for um… cartoons, disney princesses, crayons and you! and mike, i guess,” she adds quickly.

mike and you share a laugh.

“i’ll go next,” you say. “i’m thankful for my mom and my grandparents. i’m thankful for the twilight movies and my cat.” you then grab mike and abby’s hands, squeezing them both. “and i’m so thankful for you two. my life feels so fulfilled with you two in it. i really appreciate you guys letting me in and join your family.”

abby grins up at you. “we think you’re awesome, too.” “thank you, abby,” you say, patting her back lovingly.

you then turn to mike who is tapping the table with his free hand. “i am, uh, thankful that i somehow still have a job. i’m thankful that my parents gave me another sibling, whom i love very much.” he gives abby a little smile and she sticks her tongue out, not being able to contain her own smile. mike turns his head to you, eyes scanning your face as he wipes his sweaty hand on his jeans.

“and i’m thankful for you. i know i have a lot of shortcomings and before you deny it, we both know it’s true. you just… for some reason see something in me. and i’m just really glad that you’ve stuck with me and shown me how to be better and do better. you’ve given me hope and make me look forward to waking up every day. i’ve never had something so steady before, so constant. i…i hope that you continue to be that for me, and i hope that in the future i can continue to show how much i appreciate you.”

you sniffle once he’s done and realize you’ve started to cry.

“oh, i-i’m sorry,” mike rushes out. “i didn’t mean to —”

“i love you, honey,” you lean over and peck his cheek.

abby groans and her stomach grumbles. “please stop! the food is getting cold.”

“sorry, abs,” you pat her back. “what would you like to eat? we made some spaghetti, too, if you —”

“i want ham and bread!”

“you got it, babe,” you say. mike helps you cut the ham, giving a piece to everyone. you all dig in and mike realizes how much he missed this, how much he’s wanted this for so long. he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it. “i love you, too.”

[artyandink]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

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

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

SERIES MASTERLIST

one - gin and tonic

Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

It was rather a homely place, with the constant chatter of the different people that stop by for a quick drink, the tunes playing from the jukebox, followed by the clatter of pool cues that ended with the clinking and tappings of glass on glass and glass on table. The place was lit with warm light, bulbs hanging from the ceiling and the distinct musk of whiskey, vodka and tequila that burned people’s throats without the liquid even going down them. It was chaotic.

It was home.

You shared a look with Jo, who was busy serving a passer-by with a cheery smile on her face while Ellen was walking a first-time drinker through the right options, rather than ordering fifty at once and getting so hammered that you three would have to drag them off the floor of the bar and mop up their sick. You sneakily poured a shot for yourself, downing it before anyone but Jo had a chance to see what you were doing and washing out the shot glass. You were a bartendress, you could hold your liquor without a problem.

“Hey.” Jo nudged you after serving a whiskey and nodded to the opposite corner, where a clearly wasted man was trying to grope a poor girl passing by, grabbing her wrist and trying to tug her back with slurred words and bedroom eyes. The sight made your blood boil and your hand itch to reach for the baseball bat that laid behind the counter. “Reckon we should 86 ‘em?”

“I don’t think there should be reckon anything.” You frowned, pursing your lips. “Dude needs to go.” You kept your eyes on the guy, while your co-worker and good friend Benny approached you two with narrowed blue eyes and cap pulled low over his brow.

“Everythin’ alright here, darlings?” He drawled, and his eyes follow the trajectory of yours and Jo’s until he finds the drunk man across the room, a small hum of acknowledgment leaving his mouth. “Y’all can relax. I’ll handle this-”

“Hey, pal?” A hand with a silver ring on it gripped the shoulder of you guys’ target, the voice sounding a bit stern. The hand was connected to a leather jacket-clad arm, which was worn by a man who was about 6’ 1” in height, and rather devastatingly handsome. He had sandy blonde hair and startling green eyes, with pouty pink lips and rather a defined jaw. He was built well, and clearly benched or at least worked out. You found yourself staring at his easy smile that masked some well-controlled anger towards the guy. “The lady doesn’t want you touching her. I’d hate for that handsome face of yours to be ruined.” The sarcasm in the comment got you grinning, and also got Benny over to the scene to roughly take the drunk dude’s hand off the girl, pulling him up and throwing him out while Jo ducked out from the counter to take care of the poor thing and get her a drink.

You found the stranger who helped Benny out at the counter, eyes twinkling as he looked into yours with a grin that twinkled in the light of the flickering bulb above your heads that you quickly twisted and got properly working again. “Harvelle’s Roadhouse, what can I get you today?” You greeted automatically, giving the man a smile that held a hint of gratitude. Gratitude, yes, but your eyes betrayed knowing. You could see the lost look in his eyes, almost searching for a place, and your heart went out to him. You knew all too well how that felt. All too well.

“A job, hopefully.” He answered with a nervous chuckle, looking down and then up at you with his eyes scanning you almost imperceptibly. “Saw the hiring sign outside, thought I might try my hand here.”

“Well, your hand got lucky.” You grinned, tapping the counter twice to get Ellen’s attention while she was serving another customer. “Can I get a name?”

“That’d be helpful.” He smirked, then put out his hand for you to shake. “Dean Winchester.” You shook his hand while giving him your name in return, Ellen stepping to stand beside you.

“We got a new hire, huh?” She chuckled, shaking Dean’s hand. “Hi, I’m Ellen. I run the place.”

“Dean. Winchester.” The name made Ellen’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and yours did too in curiosity. She seemed to know Dean, and that intrigued you.

“You’re one of John Winchester’s boys.” Ellen noted, which made Dean look between you and Ellen, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“You know my old man?” He asked curiously, his emerald eyes almost giving a puppy-dog look as he addressed Ellen, his hands clasped on the counter in front of him.

“John stopped by often, was like family once.” She nodded with a soft smile. “Also knew you through Bobby, also a regular. Said you were a good kid. Well, I guess you’ve met our golden girl.” Ellen gestured to you with a tender hand, patting your shoulder. “She makes the meanest Cosmo around. She’ll show you ‘round, get you acquainted with the rules and regulations and also introduce you to the others working this shift. Take him through it, sweetie.” Ellen moved away to serve more customers, while you lifted up the gate to the counter to allow him inside. Dean stepped in, already looking mesmerised by the atmosphere and simultaneously the large selection of hard liquor to get through. Jo and Benny left their posts, strolling over to join you two.

“A new hire.” Benny held his hand out for Dean to shake. “Benjamin Lafitte, brother, but call me Benny.” Benny took one look at shared a look with you; he saw it too. The need of a metaphorical map in this stranger’s minuscule mannerisms. He was in need of support, and even though you two didn’t know what for, you were happy to give it.

“Benny, got it.” Dean shook Benny’s hand with an easy grin. “Dean Winchester, but call me Dean.” He turned to Jo, his eyes flicking up and down her as he’d done with you, and you noted that it might be a natural thing for him. Checking out pretty ladies. “And who might you be?”

“Jo.” She shook his hand, flicking her blonde hair out of her face.

“Don’t be shy, Joanna Beth.” Benny teased, piquing Dean’s interest.

“Joanna Beth?” He repeated with raised eyebrows and a small smirk.

“It’s just… Jo.” Jo chuckled, swatting Benny’s shoulder. “Ignore him.”

“Duly noted.” Dean nodded, then Benny took his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Benny’s lips twisted into a smirk.

“One question for you, brother.” Benny drawled in his slow accent, his eyebrow raising under the cap. “Can you handle your liquor?”

“I can mix ‘em and drink ‘em, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Dean answered confidently, that devilish grin still on his face.

“Then you’ll fit right in.” You clapped his shoulder- his surprisingly muscular shoulder - and brought him over to show him the ropes. “Initiation’s gonna be fun.”

Later on, when the Roadhouse closed up and all the patrons were out, we gathered around the bar. You introduced Dean to your resident party animal, Ash, who was busy being a genius in his room out back. You all were relaxing with glasses of whiskey, making sure to make Dean feel at home. He fit in well, and had instantly become a popular with the ladies and Benny’s new partner in crime. Jo pulled out ten shot glasses, which made everyone but Dean whoop and clap their hands.

“Time for initiation, young man.” Ellen cackled, taking out a bottle of bourbon, scotch, hard whiskey, vodka and tequila. Dean stared at the five bottles in confusion as they filled up the shot glasses, two shots per bottle in the order described.

“Complete this test and you’re officially one of us.” Jo smiled, pushing all of them forward in a neat line while you prepared a stopwatch. Dean registered all of the five drinks lined up with a small smirk, and then glanced around at the others in the room.

Had everyone done this before?

The prospect was thrilling. Getting to be part of a surrogate family that seemed to be so… happy. Especially since Sammy had left for Stanford and his old man wasn’t the keenest where he was concerned, being a part of this was all he wanted.

“All you have to do is down all ten of these shots within forty five seconds.” You grinned, holding up the stopwatch. “Level one is bourbon. Then scotch. Then you have hard whiskey, but not too strong. After that’s some tangy vodka, and you have the final level. Our strongest tequila.”

“Strong as hell. Beauty’s got a kick.” Benny whistled, then nudged you. “Remember when Bela thought she could handle more of that stuff and was passed out on the pool table five minutes later?”

“Like it was yesterday.” You laughed, then gestured to Dean. “Take your mark, soldier.” Dean stepped up to the counter, assessing the situation with careful, determined green eyes. They always seemed to captivate you. That and his winning smile. He’d taken off his leather jacket, which was over a blue flannel and grey undershirt. He had a boyish charm to him that you couldn’t help but warm up to as well. “Ready?”

“Born ready.” He nodded, mentally preparing himself as he took a deep breath, waiting for his cue. Then when there was the loud shout of ‘go’, he started slamming back the shots, the liquid burning his throat as we went. The bourbon and scotch were easy, the whiskey went down quicker than expected, but he faltered slightly on the vodka, the tang making one of his eyes close instinctively.

It felt like a goddamn barrage of sour candies at once.

However, Dean braved it and threw back the other, picking up the tequila and downing the first one. The burn made him cough and shake his head as the room went off kilter for a moment, but he grabbed the other and took it down in half a second before slamming the glass down on the table. You stopped the timer, and Dean straightened up as he got what felt like a million claps on the back. He met your eyes with a wide grin that matched yours, gratefully downing the glass of water that Ellen gave him before letting out a whoosh of breath.

“You’re one of us, brother.” Benny chuckled deep, gripping his shoulder. Dean couldn’t help but think about how mismatched this little gang was. There was mama bear Ellen, who doted on everyone as well as being a badass in her own right, mother of the sweetly fierce Jo, or Joanna Beth, who could flash a sweet smile at one point but stare daggers the next that can chill bones. Benny, with his distinct cap and fashion sense, paired with the slow drawl of an accent and rough-around-the-edges demeanour.

And then there was you. By what he knew of you, you were a firecracker. Cheeky smiles and a confident way of moving about pairing beautifully with your suave way of handling and mixing drinks. Paired amazingly, like a gin and tonic, or vodka and soda. Beginner’s drinks, but a classic and something he’d walk back to every time. Or maybe you were like whiskey on the tongue. You had an almost irresistible burn to you. Maybe a bourbon, with the hint of sweetness to your demeanour.

Ah, he’d find out someday.

You woke up the next morning, in the bed that was in your room at the Roadhouse to a texts from the group chat you all had, which didn’t include Ellen otherwise she’d chastise you all for the messages you left on there sometimes. You knew that today would be rather an eventful day, since Bela, Meg and Ruby were coming to work on your shift. The trio were alike in every sense of the word, but there was a respective increase in the level of savagery. Bela was smoothly rude, in either a way you couldn’t fault her for or one that you just couldn’t argue back to. Meg could roast you without a second thought but she made it sound like charisma, which it was, rather than outright hatred. If she wanted to, however, she could let you know she hated you. Ruby was just downright honest. Brutally honest in every way possible, but she couldn’t help but be one of your best friends. For all her sharp insults and snarky comments, she just had a wow factor you couldn’t ignore.

Since Dean was in need of a place to stay, Benny graciously offered to let the newcomer stay over. You and Benny had found the Roadhouse together, and you knew a lost soul when you saw one. A kindred spirit. You’d lived at the Roadhouse, courtesy of Ellen and Jo, and even when it wasn’t your shift, you always managed to make it there for a good day of relaxing, laughing and playing pool and maybe poker. Today, since it was a Sunday, the Roadhouse closed early, which meant you all could play random games and jam to karaoke and old songs on the jukebox.

You checked the messages on your phone, snickering at how many there were. But what caught you off guard was the latest one.

Queen B: Alright, what’s the deal with the new guy? Is he hot?

You: Bela, chill. Don’t go hitting on Dean already.

Megolodon: Dean? Even his name sounds sexy as hell

Ruby-gina George: Y’all are desperate

You: Right? Jesus, you haven’t even met the guy yet

Queen B: I call dibs on him 😉 Megolodon: I hope he has a brother, if you know what I mean 😏 older or younger I don’t mind at all, but I prefer younger

Ruby-Gina George: We haven’t even seen him yet

You: Stop thirsting over a guy you haven’t met

Queen B: You’ve seen him- is he hot?

Megolodon: C’mon, spill

Queen B: IS. HE. HOT

You: You two need to STOP

Ruby-Gina George: Touch freakin’ grass

Ben Dover: Leave the poor girl alone, Bela, she needs a breather

You: FINE. He’s attractive, alright

Queen B: HE’S MINE

Megolodon: Dibs on his brother

ScarJo: My god, stop blowing up my phone or mom will see these messages and fire us all

Queen B: Worth it

Megolodon: Yeah, I’m cool with that, just give me the hot bartender’s brother, please and thank you

Casanova: Who are we talking about? I’m confused.

Ben Dover: New hire

Casanova: Ah.

You shook your head, shoving your phone in your pocket as you stood up, heading over to the cupboard. You pulled out a red plaid shirt, taking off your tank and pulling the chosen clothing item on, doing up the buttons before heading to your mirror and trying to tame your hair for the first time in ages. Eventually, you settled on a simple rope braid that still had a few strands coming out of it, taking off your sweatpants and replacing them for jeans. Rolling up your sleeves to your elbows as you went, you zoned out while staring at the silver band on your finger with a snake engraving.

The delicate welts in the ring.

You weren’t married, no, but it was a part of where you came from. You weren’t proud of your history. The one part of it that came out good was your siblingship with Benny.

You met the sunshine streaming through the window, along with the sight of Dean already working at the bar. His flannel’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair was short and spiky and he wore a soft smile on his face that suited him. However, his eyes flickered to a girl at the bar you knew all too well. What with her penchant for the finer things in life, hence the perfectly styled brown hair and clever green eyes, complete with a British accent.

Bela Talbot.

She was giving Dean what looked like bedroom eyes until his eyes flickered over to you, his face lighting up instantly with a chuckle at whatever she was saying. You seemed to pick up your sleepy mood as well, returning the grin. Bela smirked slightly, pumping her eyebrows twice as she took a sip of her wine. Wine in the morning. It made you grin at your friend.

How very Bela.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Dean rumbled, his morning voice sounding deep and rich. “Sleep well?”

“Slept great, thanks.” You replied softly, pouring yourself a glass of water and sipping it. “You settle in ok? At Benny’s?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah.” He chuckled a bit, looking down with a bashful smile and a bite of his lip. “He’s great. And it’s great at his place.”

“Had I come earlier, I would offer you a bed at my place.” Bela smirked, then winked playfully rather than flirtatiously. “There’s only one, but I wouldn’t mind sharing.” The comment got a laugh out of both Dean and you, knowing it was all in good fun.

“An offer that I probably wouldn’t refuse.” Dean replied with a suave tone that had Bela grinning at you, nudging you before pointing at Dean with a manicured finger.

“I like him. He’s funny.”

“Good to know.”

“Well, you’re quite a handsome one.” Meg swayed up to the counter, dark brown hair swaying as her equally as dark eyes scanned Dean. She delicately put out her hand for him to shake. “Hi. Meg Masters, darling.”

“Dean Winchester.” Dean shook her hand with a sideways look, seeming rather flattered by the attention of so many women. “And thank you.”

“Just for research purposes-”

“Meg, don’t say it.” You whispered, but she waved you off with a sultry chuckle, her eyes focusing on Dean as she stole a bottle of vodka from behind the bar, pouring a shot which she threw back expertly.

“Do you have a brother? Out of curiosity.” She asked blatantly, smiling innocently at Dean, but you knew the smile wasn’t so incredibly innocent. Meg was like a demon; she corrupts easily. But she was a loveable little devil.

“Oh, shut up, we don’t have to be so touchy feely and up close.” Ruby groaned as she walked in, blonde hair swinging. “And get me a shot of tequila, it was a long and insufferable car ride.”

“You must be Ruby.” Dean noted, pointing at Ruby and smirking slightly. “Bela’s given me the rundown on who’s who. And yeah, I do have a younger brother. Sammy. He’s a dork.”

“Even better.” Meg winked as she poured Ruby a shot of tequila and passing it to her. “Where’s Benny at? I need my daily dose of that accent otherwise I might go insane.”

“You’ve already got the image of the newbie’s little brother so far up your ass, I’m surprised you remembered Benny.” Ruby snorted, taking her shot. “He’s out bein’ errand boy with Ellen and Jo. Texted him when I got here.”

“Earning some brownie points, are we?” Bela giggled. “How very like our suave gentleman.”

“Wine before breakfast.” You quipped, sipping your water. “How very like our expensive Brit, hm?” A round of laughter came from everyone around you, including Bela.

“You got me there.” She sighed playfully, sipping her wine. “Damn you.”

“Damn me.” You winked back, and then a nervous chuckle came from Dean.

“Don’t mean to be a downer on the party, ladies, but I’m feelin’ kind of out of place here.” He gave you all a nervous smile, and the lost puppy look was starting to come out again. You laid a comforting hand on his forearm, tilting your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled softly, letting out a breath through your nose. “We all love you already. Even if these three are too much.”

“Too much looks good on me, biatches.” Ruby added with a drawl, which got a grin out of Dean and you.

“We get it, Ruby.” You giggled, then glanced back at up Dean and his gorgeous green eyes. “You’re doing great, Dean. Don’t sweat it too much.” The comment got a suggestive ‘ooh’ out of the other three girls in the room, which had you and Dean looking to the counter and the floor respectively with dumb grins on your faces.

“BREAKFAST!” Startled all of you when Ellen walked in with Benny and Jo, the women holding two grocery bags while Benny carried four, most likely out of pure gentlemanliness.

You shared a soft look with Dean, followed by a reassuring pat on his forearm before you stood up and moved to help Benny with the bags. He glanced down at his forearm with a slight smile, fighting off a blush as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. His hand rubbed over the spot before he got to unpacking the grocery bags, feeling assured. Feeling safe.

Feeling like he was part of a family.

bDe: so this is the group chat, huh

You: Hey, Dean 👋

bDe: hey, sweetheart ;)

Ruby-gina George: Where did SWEETHEART come from

Queen B: You wish you were someone’s sweetheart, Rubes

Ruby-gina George: In your dreams, Bell-bottoms

Queen B: But you hate bell bottoms

Ruby-gina George: Exactly 😊

bDe: are they always like this

Ben Dover: You get used to it, brother

You: It’s all uphill from here

Casanova: Can someone please tell me the name of the new hire? I need to add him to my contacts.

bDe: dean winchester

Casanova: Thank you. I am Castiel Novak.

ScarJo: Cas, the perfect spelling, punctuation and grammar is NOT necessary

You: Yeah, how can you type that without getting bored

Casanova: How do you type without perfect spelling, punctuation and grammar?

Megolodon: We just type, Cassie baby, it’s not that hard

Queen B: Even I don’t type that fancy, and I’m British

Ruby-gina George: Part fancy Brit, part asshole

Queen B: I hate you

Ruby-gina George: You’re such a flirt

You: Like I said, Dean, uphill from here

ScarJo: Yeah, doesn’t get much worse than this

bDe: nah this right here is gold

Ben Dover: *eats popcorn*

bDe: can I have some

Ben Dover: sure, brother

You: All of you are unhinged- @Casanova are you gonna be there on your shift tomorrow

Casanova: Yes, I am.

Queen B: Our dear Cas, bland texter by day, expert mojito mixer at night

ScarJo: Sounds accurate to me

Casanova: I hate you all.

You : You love us ☺️

Casanova: I suppose that’s true.

After closing, everyone had gone to their respective houses, or so you thought. You were about to change and get into bed after a long day of supervising the bar in case Dean needed help or the girls were being far too flirty for their own good, but then you heard clinking glass from downstairs that piqued your interest. You prepared to grab the baseball bat from the cupboard on the landing as you crept out, but only heard the humming of a low voice you recognised as Dean. You walked into the main bar to find him cleaning the glasses, the clink coming from when he set them down with the others. But he heard you enter, and he looked up with the washcloth still held in his large hand. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean, what are you…” You quickly moved to his side, ducking under the counter and taking the cloth. “Why are you here so late?”

“Thought I should clear up. It makes a good first impression.” He shrugged, and you got the whiff of ‘I’m lost and just want to fit in’ again. Dean mentioned a brother yesterday, so it had you wondering why he found the Roadhouse in the first place. Everyone was a lost soul who came here to work. Castiel divorced his wife and left his daughter, and needed a job after he was fired. Ruby left her abusive family, and Meg was in a toxic relationship. Bela had been on the run from her family and had become a pocket thief in the process until Ellen gave her a place at the Roadhouse. As for you and Benny, well, that was a topic neither of you were fans of touching that topic.

“You don’t have to work for that, Dean.” You reassured, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re already fitting in. Just don’t change yourself for insecurity’s sake. It’s gonna bite you in the ass later.”

“Good to know.” Dean chuckled, fiddling with the ring on his finger. “And I prefer my ass to be unbitten.”

“Don’t we all.” You joked, then gave him a smile. “C’mon, if you really wanna make a good impression, then get some rest.”

���You sure?” He frowned a little, his hand twitching to take the cloth from your hands, but you moved it further away. “I could help out, y’know.”

“Not that we don’t want you here, it’s just that we value physical well-being. And mental.”

“Gotcha.” He laughed, nodding as he picked his jacket off the coat hook. “Are you absolutely sure?” Dean wore a concerned look on his face, not wanting to leave you alone to do work. “I could save you some time.”

“I’m gonna drag Bela, Meg and Ruby’s asses to do this.” You chuckled, setting the cloth down on the counter. Dean felt comfortable as hell around you. Maybe it was because you were the first one he knew at the Roadhouse. “Go on, get.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus.” He took out his keys, winking smoothly. “Have a nice night, darlin’.”

“You too, Dean.” You waved as he left, a minute later the loud purr of a car, crunching gravel and screeching tyres gracing your ears.

3:00AM

Queen B: Anyone awake, I’m boredddddd

Megolodon: Same girlie

Ruby-gina George: Some people value their sanity you know

Ben Dover: Why are you up at 3am

bDe: so much for being told to get some sleep

You: You two are insufferable

Casanova: We have work tomorrow.

Queen B: Ohh god, I’m so drunnnnkkkkk

ScarJo: How much hard liquor have you had?

Queen B: Mmmmmmmaybe three

Queen B: b9ttles of tequ8la You: Three WHAT

Ruby-gina George: She’s so slammed she’s typing numbers

Megolodon: Awesome

Ben Dover: Bela, darling, where are you

Queen B: in your lap

bDe: damn

NEXT UP:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAGLIST:

@hobby27 @jackles010378 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @eexphoria @onlyangel-444

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

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

The Tour XV

Warning: swearing, violence, smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh I…” 

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

Will everyone just assume we’re fucking all night?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET HER!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spit,” he instructs and you oblige.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you thought.

******

Tag list: @mgklove99xx @anonymousme86

[pagannatural]

2.05 Simon Said

-Dean opens the bathroom door on Sam, saying “zip it up, let’s hit the road,” and showing blatant disregard of basic boundaries that makes sense in the context of Dean raising Sam from infancy.

-Sam had another vision and insists on going to the roadhouse for help finding the subject of the vision. Dean says they shouldn’t be among other hunters advertising that Sam is a freak with a psychic demon connection. Sam is offended. In s1 Dean told Sam they’re both freaks and it made Sam feel less alone, but now his visions are making it too real and he’s sensing that Dean is on edge about his visions and connection with the demon.

-Sam basically ignores Jo. The last time he saw her he was put out by Dean flirting with her. Dean is nice to her but ditches her to follow Sam not once but twice.

-Jo puts on “Can’t Fight This Feeling.” Dean leaves the moment Sam indicates he’s ready and Dean sings the song to him in the car. Most shows will choose songs very intentionally for what’s happening between the characters, and when you actually look at the lyrics it’s very SamDean.

Sam is Dean’s light in the darkness, he’s what gives his life direction, his life has revolved around him. And he’s struggling with a horrible secret and his fears that he’s having trouble keeping to himself. There’s also the matter of Dean repressing his feelings for Sam and trying to be strong.

-Sam thinks Andy is the killer, but Dean trusts his gut that “I just don’t think the guy’s got it in him” which is exactly what he said to Sam earlier about him becoming a killer

-Dean, when Andy makes him tell the truth via mind control, says that Sam is afraid of becoming a murder and “I hope to hell he’s wrong but I’m starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”

Sam is really upset to hear this, he looks at Dean with angry disbelief.

-Sam gets out of the car and follows Andy. Dean knows that Andy can control his actions and thinks that he’s making people kill themselves but his Big Brother pull to go to Sam overrides all of that. Even after Andy commanded him to “leave me alone” Dean is out of the car following Sam within seconds.

-Dean watches from a short distance, and Sam looks back toward Dean when he hears him get out of the car and again when his next vision starts. We get these images of Dean intermixed with the vision to show that Sam is looking over at Dean.

Dean holds Sam protectively and crouches over him. He holds his arm and puts a hand on the inside of Sam’s thigh above his knee, and Sam reaches for Dean. The way Sam goes from big and imposing when he advances toward Andy to small and vulnerable in Dean’s arms is just beautiful.

Andy tries to ask Sam a question about his vision and Dean instantly barks at him to “shut up” because Sam is still talking.

-The vision was a woman setting herself on fire, so when a firetruck drives by Dean looks at Sam, Sam says “go” and Dean takes off while Sam waits with Andy. They don’t even have to discuss the plan, but Dean won’t leave Sam until he says it’s okay.

-Sam tells Andy “You still live in a van. I don’t get it, you could have anything you ever wanted.” He warms visibly to Andy when he says “I’ve got everything I need” and this seems to be the point at which Sam starts to see himself and Andy as similar in a good way. Sam basically lives out of the impala, and he also has everything he needs. Which is Dean. He says “maybe there’s hope for both of us” and Dean pulls up.

-Andy has an evil brother, so we’re in another Cain and Able situation. Evil Brother steals Andy’s girlfriend and tells her that Andy is his, not hers. He also has a thing for making people say everything is okay when it’s not. They’re like Sam and Dean’s twisted mirrors with the possessiveness and denial, only these two were raised apart.

-This episode drew attention to the question of what Sam will become, and to Sam’s relationship with being a “freak.” As a child Sam clung to the outside world for dear life, praying every night and working hard at school and actively avoiding acting like a “freak” as much as possible. Sam fought with John for putting him and Dean in this lifestyle, but a recurring theme in the show is Sam insisting that he doesn’t blame Dean for things. Sam saw Dean being admired at school and thought he was the perfect son in John’s eyes. Dean could be a violent hunter but still be good. So, Sam doesn’t feel like a freak because he’s a hunter, it’s because he feels like something is truly wrong with him, like he’s more like the monsters and freaks that they hunt. I think he believes this because 1 he wasn’t what John wanted him to be, 2 he wasn’t accepted at school like Dean so he felt othered, 3 the trauma he grew up with made him feel guilty and impure, and 4 Dean won’t accept Sam being in love with him so he feels ashamed of it. It’s the only part of him Dean won’t accept.

Reasons 1 and 2 come from flashbacks and the brothers’ arguments on the show. Let’s get into 3, the trauma. Sam was preyed on at least twice by monsters as a baby and child (the demon and the shtriga). Swallowing demon blood changed him and meant that he was marked.

But it’s more than that. His mother’s death was a mystery that John never explained to him, and he spent the first 6 or so years of his life being lied to about what his family was even doing on the road all the time. That matters to Sam. He gives the amulet to Dean in a later flashback because Dean told him the truth about what they were doing, and according to John’s diary he let Dean field a lot of Sam’s questions about Mary. John (unintentionally) gave Sam the message that he couldn’t be trusted with the truth about his own life.

On top of that, John raised him with the underlying, ever present terror that he would be horribly hurt or stolen or killed. John saw danger and darkness everywhere and he wasn’t honest with Sam about why, but he certainly raised Sam to believe that the world was dangerous and wanted to hurt him. One example is Sammy waking up not knowing about the Shtriga, just knowing his dad was losing his shit clutching at him and his brother was holding a gun, terrified. Children can’t tell the difference between being told they will be hurt and being told they deserve to be hurt.

The one person who doesn’t make Sam feel like something is wrong with him is Dean. Sam feels Dean as protective and loving and reassuring. His whole nervous system exhales around Dean. His body knows he’s safe with Dean’s body. We know this because Sam melts into Dean when he’s tired or hurt, he reaches for Dean when he’s in pain or needs help—he knows on a very instinctive level that Dean is safe, Dean will hold him, Dean won’t leave him.

Dean must have been so gentle and attentive with baby/child Sammy for that to be the case. Dean would’ve played the most important role in how their relationship developed early on simply because he was older, and he was given a lot of power over Sam. Dean is deeply possessive and imperfect but the fact that Sam feels safe and good and loved by him is remarkable considering Dean was four or five years old when he started parenting Sam. The warmth and care he provided as a traumatized child himself is staggering.

Their childhood was so fucked up that there was no way they were ever going to be normal about each other, and under any other conditions—basically with anyone other than Dean—who knows what would’ve happened to Sam. They were competing for resources like affection and food and clothing. Parentification is correlated with violent and abusive tendencies, and Dean was exposed to way too much violence and horror as a child to process normally. By all accounts he should’ve been a wreck and he should’ve had zero ability to regulate his own emotions, let alone an infant’s. Instead he made Sam the center of his world and his whole heart.

So. Sam fears being a freak, feels he is good when he’s Dean’s. Dean struggles with the immense responsibility of loving Sam the right way. The ways they love each other Wrong come out in violence.

They save and damn each other by loving and not loving enough, and it will be the absence of Dean’s love that corrupts Sam. The fact that this is the plot of the show and not an insane wincest theory is just ridiculous.

-The episode ends with the song “Fell on Black Days,” which could describe both Sam and Dean’s POV about Sam’s connection to the demon.

“Whomsoever I’ve cradled” sounds like Dean, and the song talks about fate and being blind by wanting to see good. The line “I’m a search light soul they say but I can’t see it in the night” reminds me of “you’re a candle in the window on a cold dark winter’s night.”

Dean is afraid of what will happen if his moral compass and light go dark, and because it’s Dean, he blames himself. “Whomsoever I’ve cured, I’ve sickened now.” A love that corrupts.