#Dean Redding fanfic

[morganwrites12672]

omg i loved your last dean redding fic 😭 ik this request is pretty quick so take your time with this one but you asked for more dean requests and i couldn’t resist so ahhhh

what about maybe like a dean redding x townsend!reader? like reader is michael’s sister and starts liking dean and the two are secretly dating cause michael’s just totally against it cause he’s protective of his sister and he catches them kissing or cuddling or smthing and finds out they’re together?

thank you and sending love 💜💜

Dean Redding x Townsend!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I love it when people request for Dean! It is a crime how underrated he is. Also send as many requests as you want.

Reader info: Female!Reader, Townsend!Reader

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

You loved Dean. And he loved you. There was only one issue. Your incredibly overprotective brother. Michael.

If he found out he would most likely cause Dean bodily harm. That was just how he was. Overprotective, and he had never gotten a long with Dean.

You are snapped out of your thoughts when Dean joins you in the living room. He gives you a small smile before sitting next to you on the couch.

He leans over and whispers something in your ear, "We are the only ones out here." And then he places a soft kiss on your neck.

He continues peppering kisses down your neck and chest before finally kissing you on the lips. You melt into the kiss as his hands encircle your waist as he pulls you into his lap.

He can taste your cherry chapstick as you two kiss. God, if Michael saw you two now. He would absolutely lose it. The thought only made you want to kiss Dean more.

"Michael would kill you," you gasp as you both take a quick break to catch your breath.

"Let's go to my room then," he whispers and picks you up bridal style before rushing up the stairs.

As you both make it to Dean's door, Michael walks out of his room. The two of you make very awkward eye contact.

"I uh, shit. We can explain," you blurt in a panic. Michael looks you both up and down as Dean (also very awkwardly) sets you down.

"Oh, please do!" Michael says with much fake enthusiasm. He had suspected that you two liked each other, but he never thought you two would actually date.

Michael began to realize that you two were most definitely dating. Or would be soon. He also realized you had to get a boyfriend eventually. But why Dean?

"So you two are dating?" Michael groans as you both nod, "Why him?" Michael pouts. Of course his sister would date the one guy he couldn't stand.

"I love him," you say and Michael gags. Dean laughs at Michaels antics before Michael goes back to his room.

"That could of went a lot worse," dean says as you both go back to his room.

"Now, where were we?" He says with a smirk as his door clicks shut.

[youchangedmedestiel]

Funny how the first time Castiel is mentioned in the show it's during an episode (3x06) with a ghost SHIP.

Some great accidental foreshadowing as per usual. Accidental for sure this time, because how could they have predicted what was going to happen with this ship?

[catapparently]

Currently finishing up my scaffold for the long averyjameson AU series, then I’ll publish the prologue for tobannah series AND THEN I’ll do a The Naturals request

[lotties-ashwagandha]

CURSED (nsfw)

billie dean howard x gn!reader, word count 1.2k

the premiere of the new season of billie's show gets rescheduled last minute, but you have a way to take her mind off the disappointment.

A harsh silence enveloped the two of you. You were sitting at the edge of Billie’s bed, and you watched as she set her phone down on the vanity and began to pace the length of the room. 

The premiere of her show had been rescheduled on short notice. You were meant to fly out with her tomorrow for press meetings, interviews, every opportunity for recognition Billie deserved for her work. Your suitcases were packed and ready at the foot of the bed. 

Billie looked into the mirror of the vanity, sighing as she fixed a non-existent flaw of her eye makeup with the edge of her pale pink acrylics. 

You were at a loss for what to do – you had tried comforting her verbally, but she had barely said a word to you in the minutes after receiving the call. She got like this often when she was upset, silent and uninterested and cynical. 

You stood from the bed. Tentatively you stepped toward her. You placed your hands on her waist when you came up behind her, resting your chin on her shoulder and watching her reflection in the mirror. 

Disappointment swam in her eyes as she stared unfocused into her own reflection. You knew how much she had been looking forward to the premiere. Even if it would take place in a few weeks instead of tomorrow, the two of you had been planning this weekend for months. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, “that it was canceled. I know how excited you were.” 

Billie nodded, taking one of your hands in her own. She offered you a halfhearted smile in the reflection of the mirror. “You didn’t cause it, don’t apologize.” 

In response, you pressed a kiss to her neck, the junction where her neck met her shoulder. After a moment you kissed her again, and began to move up her neck, trailing kisses up to her jaw. You felt her relax slightly under your touch, a great sigh leaving her chest. 

Billie turned in your arms. She kissed you, bringing a hand up to rest at your jaw and looping her arms around you. The kiss was almost lazy, natural and reflexive to the two of you. You were overcome by the love evident in her touch. 

She pulled away only for a moment before capturing your lips again. This time, you felt hunger in her embrace – in the way her lips met yours in a way dripping with desperation, in the way she was backing you towards the bed. 

You denied your instinct to let her push you onto the bed – you wanted this, and she did too, but you wanted to give her more. You wanted her to feel the same euphoria she often gave you before herself, especially after the evening’s disappointment. She needed distraction, as was evident in every moment you spent in her arms, and you were always willing to give it. 

You turned her, reversing your positions. A look of surprise came over her features as the backs of her thighs pressed against the bed. 

You hadn’t said anything, but she nodded at the proposed switch in roles, and when you tried to push her down onto the bed, she let you. Billie pulled you down on top of her, slipping her hands under the hem of your shirt and letting them travel up your back. In a moment of impatience she pulled your shirt off and tossed it to the floor. 

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Keep them there,” you warned her with a stern look, and she smiled at you in amusement. You hardly ever took dominance over her, it was foreign to both of you, but you were enjoying it. 

“This is new,” she taunted, unserious, yet you could see the desire clawing at her through the mask of her ego. “You’re learning, and so well.” 

You shook your head, brushing off her comment. You didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer, pulling off her blouse and attaching your lips to her chest. Her breath caught as you trailed kisses down her sternum, nipping at her chest, leaving marks in your wake as you traveled down her abdomen. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured into her skin, and a slight blush overtook her features. She shifted restlessly – her anticipation was evident, beautiful in the fervor with which she needed you. You understood why she was usually so addicted to you underneath her, you were drunk on the power of having her need nothing in the world but you. 

You moved between her legs, and instinctively her hips bucked toward you. As you pulled the rest of her clothes off she let out another sigh, this time out of pleasure, out of desire. 

With air-light touches you caressed her thighs. Slowly you kissed up the length of them, watching her expression closely. Desperation overtook her features, and her breath was shaky. One of her hands had moved to weave into your hair, a wordless plea for your attention. 

Just as she thought relief would finally come between her thighs, you moved away. With a look of satisfaction you climbed back up her body, straddling her, leaning down to kiss her. 

“What are you doing?” she asked in a whine. No one ever denied Billie anything, especially you. 

You shrugged. You trailed your hand down her abdomen, let it rest at her hip as you watched her squirm. “Beg.” 

She scoffed. She shook her head. “I’m not begging.” 

With a tantalizing smile you moved your hands away. Her only form of contact was the way you were straddling her. “Prove how much you want this. Beg for it, or you get nothing.” 

She sighed, and desire won over her pride, though it was not without a battle of ego. “Please,” she said. “Please, I need this. You know I need this, I need you.” 

You considered her words a victory, one of the scarce victories of dominance you took over her. In reward you slipped back between her legs. Finally relief came to her, your tongue sliding through her wetness. Billie moaned, her hips bucking into you again. You held them down, circling your arms around her tense thighs. 

You focused yourself on her clit, noting every response her body gave to your ministrations. Her moans, her whines let freely go as you slipped two fingers into her. She gasped, her new grip in your hair tightening dramatically as you set a pace that was quickly ruining her. 

Though earlier she had been utterly opposed that you’d made her beg, quiet pleas spilled from her lips as you brought her closer to the edge. Your name on her tongue like a curse, like poison you would drink from the fountain of your devotion. 

“Cum for me,” you murmured when she was close, and her body responded immediately – you coaxed her through her climax, the pace of your tongue and your hand working in sequence to prolong it as much as you could for her. 

When she came down from it, you pulled away. You laid at her side, pulling her into you to press a kiss to her shoulder and then to her lips, the two of you engulfed in the softness of her newfound peace. Billie relaxed into your embrace, letting you hold her as exhaustion overtook her. Peace found you both in inexplicable wonder, anxiety cursed in your devotion.

[writtenbeneaththestars]

The burn of your touch

Summary: how everyone else found out that Lia had been assaulted Warnings: past sexual assault, flashback/panic attack, brief thoughts of suicide, brief self-harm, thoughts of self-harm (please tell me if I missed anything!!) A/N: I love Lia so much and protective Dean and Michael fuels my entire existence so yk this came out *please tell me if I made any mistakes!!*

Tags: @catapparently

“So,” Michael said, his voice tantalizing and smooth. “Are we doing this?” Lia returned with a smirk.

“Well, they already know, don’t they?”

They both knew who she meant. The rest of their family. They had kept their new get-back-together as a secret for about a month before Lia needed to distract the rest of them when they had gotten into trouble. It wasn’t her fault Cassie got them caught while they were coming back from some party or other. Even Sloane managed to keep it together, but oh no, Cassie just had to give it away. She was noticing a trend with that girl – she was a terrible liar.

Michael brought his hand up to her face. But the moment their skin made contact, it was like a switch had been flipped. Because Michael turned into him. She could feel the rough skin of his hand on her face and it– it couldn’t be.

She was back in the room. Her old bedroom.

Everything was white. It was dark outside. He was sitting there. He couldn’t– she had to make up a lie. She had to– she had to– it couldn’t be– it couldn’t–

No. It wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be real. But it felt so real and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. But she had to get away. She had to get away– as far away as she possibly could because she– she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t– she couldn’t let it happen. Not again.

She was supposed to be free.

Michael was confused. One moment his girlfriend was fine and they were getting ready to make out again, and the next she was flinching away and– god the pure terror on her face. Her eyes were vacant, as if they weren’t really there. And she was so scared.

The dread and fear and self-hatred and pain was so clearly visible it was palpable in the air.

In all of the years he’d known her, Lia Zhang’s emotions were never this easy to read. It was like she was in a completely different world.

“Hey, um, Lia?” He asked, reaching out his hand. He hadn’t even touched her yet before she flinched violently away, backing into the corner and curling into a ball. She was moving as far away from him as possible, and that hurt something deep inside him. “Ok,” he said, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Ok. So no touching. Got it.”

He was back. He was back and there was nothing she could do. Not this time. He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t– why wasn’t he listening? She could– she could be a good girl. She could be good. She could be perfect. She would do everything he told her to do. Why wasn’t he listening?

Michael didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen her like this. Not Lia. Not the girl who was always so… strong. The one that never broke. He wanted to scream at himself, because he should have known, especially as the emotion reader, that the ones that look the strongest are the ones who are hiding their hurt.

He was advancing. She wanted to scream at him and push him back but she couldn’t. Because none of this could be real. She’d spent so long trying to prevent this from happening. It couldn’t– it couldn’t possibly be happening.

“Ok,” he repeated. He could tell her breathing was quickening now. It was shallow and fast and she was hyperventilating. And he knew that was bad. “I’m, um, I’m going to get Dean, alright?” She didn’t react. So he practically ran out of there, his heart pounding and his thoughts racing.

It was all her fault, wasn’t it. She should have known this would happen. She should have been good and everything would have been fine. But it wasn’t fine because he was here and he literally could not possibly be here because she– she wouldn’t survive if he was. But he was here. He was in her room and he closed the door and sat on her bed and– he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t– he couldn’t– he–

Michael ran down the hall to Dean’s room, pounding on the door once he got there. He heard giggling behind the door and he wanted to scream at whoever was behind there that this wasn’t a time for laughing. That something was happening with Lia and he felt so freaking powerless and he needed to do something, anything to help her so how dare they laugh? Dean opened the door, a light expression on his face.

“Hey, Townsend, stop assaulting the door. Jeez, what’s up with–” he stopped, his face darkening when he saw Michael’s face. He would have felt bad for ruining Dean’s mood, but not now. He realized on some level that he must have stopped hiding his emotions, but it didn’t matter that he was showing Dean what he was feeling because he was so effing scared and worried and– he just needed Dean to come. “Michael,” Dean said again, his voice louder and firmer than it was before. “What. Happened.” Under different circumstances, he would have made fun of Dean for his voice shaking. But under different circumstances, he wouldn’t even be here.

“Lia.” He could only let a single word out of his mouth. His voice shook the slightest bit. The moment the word made its way out of his mouth, he could see Dean’s expression change. The worry, the fear, the anger, it all multiplied exponentially. Michael heard Dean curse, his voice shaking. He knew how much Dean cared about his sister. How protective he was of her. How out of all of them, Dean knew the most about her past.

“Which room?” He asked. Michael could see the self-hatred and the pent up anger, but for once he wasn’t going to aggravate it.

“Mine.” Dean nodded, brushing past Michael. Lia hardly ever let anyone into her room. Michael had asked her about that once but she just brushed it off. It didn’t matter now though. How could it?

“Hey, what’s going on?” Cassie asked, walking up to the door. Michael couldn’t answer. The only thing it seemed that he was capable of doing right now was following Dean.

The moment Dean entered the room and saw Lia on the ground, he ran toward her. He knelt down next to her and reached out a hand but she flinched away with a scream that tore Dean’s chest in half. He wasn’t the emotion reader, but Dean knew what kind of scream that was. It was the sound of someone who had been hurt and knew they were going to be hurt again. The kind of desperation and resignation that made him want to punch someone over and over again until they were dead because his sister didn’t deserve this.

He wouldn’t leave. He kept coming closer. She deserved it, didn’t she. She– she deserved it, didn’t she? It was all her fault. And she– she really couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was about to pass out, and that would be better than this. Anything is better than this. With him.

“What did you do,” he asked, turning around to look at Michael. His voice was dark and dangerous, but he didn’t care. He was vaguely aware that Cassie walked in.

“Nothing,” Michael said. He was clearly worried and scared which meant something was deeply wrong with everything because Michael never showed his emotions. “I– we were going to kiss but then she flinched away and she– I don’t know.”

“What’s happening?” He heard a quiet voice behind him. He could see out of the corner of his eye that it was Sloane. He didn’t know when or how, but somehow he was on the ground again. He made sure to sit a few feet away from her, but she really needed to start breathing normally.

“We were going to kiss, and I didn’t do anything, I swear! But then she kind of just flinched and now she’s on the floor, screaming whenever anyone touches her.” Dean could see Michael pacing, and he wanted to do the same himself. Ok, that wasn’t true. He wanted to punch a punching bag until everything was ok again.

She needed to be not here. To be anywhere but here. To be anywhere but with him. She needed him to go away. He won’t go away. He won’t go away and she can’t move and she can’t breathe and she– she just couldn’t anymore, she just couldn’t she–

Sloane walked closer and sat down a few feet away from his sister on her other side, but she was looking at Dean, as if she was trying to communicate something without actually having to say it. And something told him that whatever she had to say would hurt him in one of the worst ways possible.

“What is it, Sloane,” he asked softly. She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again and shook her head.

“Hey, Lia?” She said instead. “It’s ok. He’s not here. You’re safe. This house has incredibly high security measures, I can attest to that, and everyone here is safe to be around. He’s not here. You’re not there. You’re in Michael’s room, and you’re safe.” It took Dean’s buzzing brain a moment to register what Sloane was saying in her words. Lia was having a flashback. And as Sloane kept repeating it over and over again, it took another second for him to realize the rest of Sloane’s implications. Something about a man. He had a few suspicions about what specifically, but he refused to believe that it could be true, that someone could– no.

There was a faint noise. She could make out a few words. Something about being safe. But she wasn’t. He was here. He was here and she wasn’t safe and– and she couldn’t breathe. But then the voice said something about him not being here. But he was literally here. He was right in front of her, he was right there and coming closer. And then the voice said something about not being there. Of being in Michael’s room. It took her a long moment to realize who Michael was. And it took another moment for her to realize who the voice belonged to. Then she blinked and he was gone, though his touch still stayed.

After who knows how long, Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Lia’s eyes seemed to finally return to the present.

“Lia, can you– can you breathe for me please?” He said softly. Her eyes snapped over to him, and her breathing quickened still more, before she seemed to realize who he was. Dean wanted to scream when he realized that right now, men were terrifying for his sister and she was terrified of him. That hurt on a level he wasn’t aware was possible. “It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re safe in Michael’s room. I just need you to breathe, Lia, ok?”

She shook her head as she scrunched her eyes tightly closed and started clenching and unclenching her hands. Then she started scratching herself, and Dean wanted to punch the wall. He had forgotten what her panic attacks were like. It had been a few years since he’d seen one, and he wanted to yell at himself for thinking that they had just gotten better when he should have realized that she had just gotten better at hiding them.

“Hey, Lia? Don’t hurt yourself, ok?” She didn’t seem to hear him. And he wanted to hold down her hands, but that would just trigger her more and he felt so effing useless. “Please, Lia.” He whispered, scared that any volume above that would make her go back to wherever she was.

“Can’t,” she gasped out, her nails digging into her hand. “Breathe.”

“Just breathe in for four for me, ok? Can you do that?” He needed her to listen. He needed her to be ok. He wanted to jump up in joy when she followed what he said. It didn’t matter that it was way too quick to actually be effective, it was working. “Ok, now just hold it for four. That’s it. Now out for four. That’s good. That’s good, Lia.”

On some level she was aware that Dean wasn’t going to hurt her. That he was safe. But the voice kept switching back and forth and back and forth between Dean’s and his and why couldn’t she breathe? She followed what the words said. What the voice told her to do. She just wanted it to be over. She needed it to be over.

As her breathing slowly and shakily returned to normal, she stopped scratching herself and Dean could see the smallest amount of blood. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be ok, but he knew that would be bad. He just needed his sister to be ok.

She leaned her head against the wall and for the first time in a long time, Dean saw just how exhausted she was.

“Lia,” he heard Michael say. In his peripheral vision Dean saw him kneeling down next to Sloane. “What happened?”

Lia was so tired. She just wanted to sleep except she hated sleeping and being on the bed because he– no. She refused to think about that. Not now. She shrugged, rolling her eyes. At least she could finally breathe now.

“Flashback or panic attack type thing. What, have you never seen one before?” Her tone was flippant, thankfully.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Michael’s voice was soft. Gentle. Like she could break at any moment and she hated that. She hated it so much. That was how he treated her mother. And she would not become her mother. She refused to.

“One, stop treating me like I’m fragile.” She shot a glare at Michael. Then she let out a sigh and leaned her head against the wall. She really would have to do this, wouldn’t she. “I was nine the first time. That was when I killed a man. Lies are protection, you know, and they’re also weapons. He just kept coming. But the lies always worked. They kept him back. Away. So it was safe. Then I turned twelve, and of course puberty happened and suddenly, they– the lies stopped working.” She was distinctly aware of her voice shaking. She could still feel him all over her. He had never stopped being all over her and she– she needed him to leave. She shrugged as she tried to block out the memories that were flooding into her mind.

“Lia, I–”

“No.” She cut Michael off, not looking at him. She was shaking. Why couldn’t she stop shaking? “Don’t, Michael.” She took another shaky breath. “He called my honey, sweetie, darling, any supposedly endearing term you can think of and he called me that.” She closed her eyes, lost in the pain. “He said I was special.” Her voice was barely audible, but she knew everyone in the room heard. “She knew what he did to girls he called special. She let him anyway.” She opened her eyes again. There weren’t any tears. There weren’t any tears because this had long progressed beyond the point of crying. It hurt too much for tears. She was too numb to cry. She knew that was a juxtaposition, but she didn’t care enough to make sense of it.

“He’s gone now,” Dean said and she wanted to curl up next to him like she used to do when she was younger and it was just the two of them and she had just started trusting him. But she couldn’t because she– she didn’t deserve to be comforted. And she’s scared that if he touched her, she would get transported back in time again and she couldn’t handle that.

“No, he isn’t.” Her voice shook. She hated that. “They never caught him. He’s a serial rapist on top of everything else and they never caught him.” She saw Dean flinch, as if he couldn’t quite believe that Lia had been– no. She hated using that word for herself. “And she just let him.” She sounded broken. She couldn’t quite bring herself to care; she was just exhausted. The only thing she wanted to do now was to sleep and never wake up. She was aware that it sounded like dying. Maybe she did want to die.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Sloane sounded so desperate for her to understand. “I– I should have said it when you first told me, but it wasn’t your fault, Lia.” Lia let out a soft laugh.

“Wasn’t it? If I had thought of a better lie, if I had found another way to keep him away, if I was invisible, if I wasn’t special,” she spat out the word. “If I had been better then it wouldn’t have happened.” She wanted to cry. She really, really wanted to cry but it hurt beyond the point of crying. Plus, she had already used up all her tears the night before in the safety of her locked room. There couldn’t possibly be any left.

“Lia,” Dean said with a strange intensity she hadn’t seen in him before. “It’s not your fault. Please, trust me. It’s not your fault.” Lia smirked for a brief second.

“Dean-o, you know I have trust issues.” He gave her a soft smile. She could tell that he wanted to hug her and hold her and she hated that he couldn’t. And god, why was he still all over her?

“Your mother shouldn’t have done that,” Sloane whispered. Oh Lia loved that girl.

“When I was still debating whether or not to take her with me, she told me she loved me.” She took a shaky breath. “And it was the truth. The funny thing about truths is that if you believe it, anything can be true.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to figure out if that was really true or if she just believed it was true.”

“People who love you don’t– they don’t let that happen. People who love you don’t do that to you.” Sloane’s voice was vibrating with intensity. Lia gave her a soft smile.

“I know,” she whispered. And suddenly the overwhelming presence of him became way too much and she– she needed to get away. She needed him to be gone. She stood up, aware on some level that she was still shaking. “I’m taking a shower.” She clenched and unclenched her hands, yearning to feel something physical to get rid of the mental anguish. She knew the moment she stepped foot into that shower she was going to have a breakdown and she was going to make herself bleed but she couldn’t bring herself to care, she just needed him to get off of her.

“Hey, Lia?” She heard Dean say when she started shakily walking to the door. She stopped walking but didn’t turn around. “I– we’re all here for you.” She nodded the slightest bit. “And we’re going to catch him and make him pay.”

“Ok.”

But it wouldn’t be enough, and she knew that. Just like she knew that no matter how many showers she took, he was still going to be all over her. He was never going to leave.

And so what if the moment she stepped into the bathroom she broke down crying?

[hashtagdrivebywrites]

Reading through your list of WIPs, I was like, “T-posing for dominance? That sounds fun.” But then I saw Red Devil Rowdy and OH MY GOD I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED THIS CROSSOVER.

For Essays on T-Posing, the concept was, "Janet Drake is Loki" and it's my first honest attempt at a Tim-centric fic. (I've actually been waiting for someone to ask about this one because I think it's pretty fun, at least to me anyway.) Emjoy lmfao.

* Crack Treated Seriously * Mama Loki (possible tie in with the Loki series? Like they're a variant? have not decided) * Weird/Annoying Siblings as Roommates * Power activation and Learning Curve(?) * Nobody else knows but they're suspicious

--

“I wasn’t aware you had a dog, Drake,” Damian’s voice, level and forcibly calm in what Tim knew was an effort to keep from cracking, said from somewhere in the living room with Mild Interest.

“A big dog,” Jason said. He shifted, “What the hell is it? A Pyrenees? You could make a whole other animal out of this hair.”

Damian scoffed, “It’s the wrong color,” like everyone had encyclopedic knowledge of different dog breeds built into their brains.

“He's a hybrid, actually,” Tim said after he finished quietly knocking his forehead against the door frame because god, what a time for a health and wellness check. “Canis Lupus - Gray Wolf, and some Irish Wolfhound. I think.”

“You think?” Jason echoed back, incredulous.

“I haven’t exactly had time to get him DNA tested, Jason.” Not that Fenrir would let Tim get anywhere near him unless a turkey leg or peanut butter filled Kong was involved.

“Where is he?” Damian said, the can-I-meet-your-dog tunnel vision activated at full strength.

Hopefully not terrorizing some poor idiot with mom somewhere. “At doggy obedience school.”

“Without you to guide him? For every dog there are two participants when it comes to obedience school, Drake.”

-- -*-*- Y'all gonna make my head blow up like Megamind over your reception of Red Devil Rowdy, lmao. I'll share a little more about it since you mentioned it in your ask.

* Jason (and batfam) is the only one that know the Gang is real because they've worked with Bruce at the beginning of his vigilante career * Danny is still fairly early in his Phantom days (14 years old, can't remember if I mentioned that in the first ask) * Mentor Jason, Velma and Daphne vibes * Bobby Singer basically functions as the team Fairy God Mother

[punkyvamposts]

SOMEONE KISSED SAMMY OMG

I was always a Sam Girl I had a massive crush on this mf at age 6 lol i always thought he was cute Imma freak ohhh

Imma get off my ass and finish supernatural one day

On a side note Do y’all have any Sam ships I couldn’t think of any that I liked in particular lol… maybe him and gabriel would work? Idk

Educate me plzz

Also I headcanon Sam as Bi lol also I kinda see him as A trans guy too eep

[plentyoffandoms]

Lie About Us (Part 15)

Daniel Garcia x f/Reader

Warnings: Some swearing.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Just a short chapter, the next one will be longer & the last one.

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Lie About Us Masterlist ♡ Daniel Garcia Masterlist ♡ Jon Moxley Masterlist

Summary: F/Reader is the daughter of Jon Moxley & starts to date Daniel Garcia. The only problem is, she hasn't told her father.

Colby - Seth Rollins ☆ Paul - Wheeler Yuta

Jon Moxley's POV:

"Jonathan Daniel Garcia."

Wait, what?

I saw Renee cover her mouth in shock as she looked between YN, Daniel and I.

"Dad?" My daughter said.

"You named him after me, but why?" A confused look came over their faces.

"Because you're his Grandpa, my Dad."

"But I have been horrible to you both." I looked down at my Grandson, who was fussing but not that bad yet.

"Daniel, want to come with me?" Renee asked as she could see that YN and I needed to talk.

"Yeah sure." He stood up from his chair, leaned down and gave YN a kiss and followed Renee out the door.

I took the spot that Daniel was once sitting in and made myself comfy.

"Dad, we can start fresh if you would like? Go back to how it was before we started to fight." YN suggested.

"That isn't going to be possible though is it Princess? You are engaged and you just had a baby."

"It can be possible. I know we both said some things we are not proud of."

"I told you to pick him over me and that wasn't fair for us. Renee made me sleep on the couch in the basement for that."

"Not even one of the spare rooms?" YN asked me, clearly amused.

"Nope, they were off limits. I had to grovel." My daughter snorted at me as she laughed. I have missed her laughter.

"Dad, I knew we would eventually talk again and I made a promise to you when I was younger that I would include your name with my first born."

I completely forgot about that.

YN and I were playing house. She was pretending to be the Mom and I was her son. "Now for your name." I came up with something that I thought was funny and YN did laugh and agreed to it. Later on she told me that if she ever had a child, that they would either have the first or middle name Jonathan or a girly version of it. I asked her why, and with the innocence of a child, she answer, "because you're my hero Daddy."

I didn't know it at the time but YN was being abused by her birth mother. Even the thought of that woman makes me want to throw something, but I calmed myself down when I heard the little coos coming from the baby boy in my arms.

I looked down at him and I couldn't help but smile. "Our little Jonnie." I said, not even bothering to look up.

When I did look up, I saw her phone in her hand and she was taking photos. "Let me take some photos of you two." I said as I reached my hand out and she placed her phone in it.

I gently handed her my Grandson and took a few photos. The door opened and in walked Renee, Nora and Daniel.

"Every one wants to see him. Is it okay if I take him out or just wait a bit longer?" Daniel asked.

"It's fine. Kris keeps asking when they can see him." YN said as she handed over her son.

"Colby and Becky want to come in as they have to leave soon." Renee said. I looked at YN to see if it was okay.

"They are here too? Of course." YN asked, completely surprised.

"Princess, everyone is here or they have been calling nonstop." I said to her.

Daniel left the room once more and not even a moment later, Becky and Colby came in.

"Hey kid, you gave us a bit of a scare there." Colby said as he hugged YN carefully.

Later on Becky told me that when she told him what was going on, he broke down crying so much so that he actually made himself sick over it.

Colby and YN were close. She saw him as an Uncle and he saw her a niece. He never forgot a holiday or birthday. He even showed up with me to her school plays when he could and was the loudest one there.

"I'm fine Colby, I swear." She said to him as he pulled away. I saw her cup his face in her hands and she wiped away some tears.

"Are you sure?" He asked her. Becky was gripping my arm as we watched the two of them.

“Giving up is for rookies.” I laughed quietly when I heard her say that. That has been their thing since the one day he watched her for me and she forced him to watch a bunch of Disney movies.

I walked into my house, the two of them on the floor, a bowl of popcorn between them and they were just finishing the movie Hercules.

Colby and Becky left not long after that. They gushed over my Grandson. We took many photos of them with him.

As well as many with Nora and her nephew. Renee was already talking about getting these photos printed and hung up.

I could see YN fighting to stay awake. Daniel saw as well. I watched as he quietly spoke to her and she nodded her head yes at whatever he was saying.

"I think it is time for us to get to the hotel." Renee said. "We will be back in the morning."

Renee kissed her cheek and I kissed her forehead, muttering how much I love her.

I was just about to leave the room when I turned around to say something else, when I saw Daniel push YN's hair away from her face and smile down at her.

The room was as quiet as it can be and I heard him say, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Daniel, sweetheart I am fine." He took a breath.

"I know you are but I am scared that when I fall asleep I will see you lying there, not moving, not breathing." His voice cracked.

"Daniel, come with Renee and I. We got plenty of space in the hotel room." I offered. He jumped slightly as he thought I was gone and YN looked at me with a tired smile.

"I don't want to impose." He said.

"Not at all. You need to be with family right now." This was probably one of the nicest things I have ever said to him.

He agreed and kissed YN goodbye, promising that he would be back in the morning.

Renee was waiting for me, talking with Eddie and Paul. I took Nora from her and held her against my chest. I felt myself go soft when my baby girl snuggled into my chest.

"Daniel is coming with us. I don't want him to be alone tonight." I told her.

"I agree. He needs to be around family." Renee said to me. She knew this was a big step in the right direction for YN and I to heal.

And I really didn't want him to be alone. I have no idea what I would of done in his spot. One second she was fine and the next second she wasn't.

"I have my car if you would like for me to drive?" Daniel offered as he just finished talking with the Doctor about YN.

"Sure kid, but I'm in charge of the music."

"YN is the same way when she is in the car." He teased.

"Well, then I already know the music will be good. She is my daughter after all."

Final Part

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @bellalutionn @damnnhausen @little-mx-spitfire @cashwheelersgirl89 @cmpunkerton @wwenhlimagines

[theirprofoundbond]

Red Letter Day

Dean/Castiel. 18.6k. Mature. No Archive warnings apply. Red letter day: A particularly significant day; usually used to refer to a memorably important or happy occasion. Dean proposes to Castiel, and they plan a small ceremony with a big reception. From the first look to the first dance, and from a public emotional speech to a private one, their summer wedding is a red letter day. A sequel to Hidden Things (canon divergent from 13x22) that can be read as a standalone. Read it on AO3.

“I love our home,” Dean murmurs. “I love you.”

Castiel feels a rush of tenderness, and his wings twitch with the desire to encircle Dean. “I love you, too.”

Dean lifts his head and props himself up on an elbow, looking down at Castiel. Castiel searches his face for any sign of the burden he’s been carrying, but Dean lowers his lips to Castiel’s for a long, unhurried kiss.

When Dean pulls away, opening his eyes, Castiel finds some indefinable reservation there, the barest hint of strain in his slight smile.

He’s leaning down to kiss him again when Castiel says, “Dean.”

Dean nuzzles Castiel. “Don’t get all serious on me now, Cas.” There’s a smile in his voice. “I’m trying to make out with you, here.”

Castiel pulls himself into a sitting position and Dean sits up, too, frowning.

Castiel takes Dean’s hand. “I’m worried about you,” he says. “You haven’t seemed like yourself, since you got back from South Carolina.” Dean looks away, like he’s been caught. Castiel squeezes his hand and waits for Dean to speak.

Dean meets Castiel’s eyes, smiling a little, and squeezes his hand back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s alright,” Castiel says. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Dean nods. “I am. And we can talk about South Carolina in a second. But first I…” He breaks off, draws a breath, and says, “I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, Dean. Anything.”

Read Red Letter Day on AO3 | Listen to the playlist Check out my writing tag: rachaelly writes

[cr0wqui11]

I'm writing the fic rn and I keep writing that JD leans against things

[morganwrites12672]

hii can i’m so glad i finally found someone writing for dean redding because this fandom is way too underground and i need content to keep my brain going lol. can i please request a dean redding x fem!reader where either one of them (you can choose) wakes up from the nightmare and the other comforts them? thank you 💕

Dean Redding x Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I'm sorry this took so long, I kept rewriting it.

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

Dean awoke to being shaken awake as his screams echoed through the bedroom. He was panting as his wide eyes met yours.

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath before resting his head in your shoulder. It was just a dream.

"Hey, you're okay Dean," you said softly as you set your phone down. You had already received texts from Michael and Cassie, asking if Dean was okay or if it was a nightmare.

"It was just a dream," he repeated in a shaky voice as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. It was even harder to deal with these types of dreams when you weren't in bed next to him.

"Can I hug you?" You asked and Dean nodded. You wrapped your arms around him as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Your eyes darted to the alarm clock on the side table. It read 3:28. Why was it the worst things always happen at three in the morning?

"You're okay," you repeated as Deans breathing became more normal and you felt his body start to lean into yours more.

You maneuvered so the two of you were laying back down. Dean curled into your body as he drifted back to sleep.

You closed your eyes as you felt yourself begin to drift back to sleep now that Dean was okay.

[redlenai]

If Dean can narrate fanfics about his parents then Smol!Jack can definetly make a few of their own.  Their most recent fanfic is about Sam and Dean time traveling to the mesozoic era

[catapparently]

~MASTERLIST~

All fics (not headcanons) can also be found on my AO3! Series are easier to read there.

AO3 LINK

~~~

~SIX OF CROWS DUOLOGY~

Fanfiction:

Five Times Kaz Brekker Denied His Feelings and One Time He Didn't (kaz x reader)

Headcanons:

Kaz Brekker headcanons 1

Kaz and Wylan (not ship) HC 1

Autistic!Kaz HC

~THE CRUEL PRINCE~

Fanfiction:

Warm me through December Nights (jurdan)

The High King of Flowers (jurdan)

~ONCE UPON A BROKEN HEART~

Fanfiction:

A Particular Type of Happily Ever After (evajacks)

~THE INHERITANCE GAMES~

Fanfiction:

The Glass Ballerina's Reputation MASTERLIST (mafia!AU series)

Pull me out the Train Wreck (averyjameson)

~THE NATURALS~

Fanfiction:

Hold me through the Darker Times (Dean x Cassie)

More coming very soon!

[thewnchstrs]

Red Sky at Morning

Pairing: Winchester!Sister (OC)

Summary: Sam, Dean and Ellie investigate the mysterious demise of drowning victims who were nowhere near water at the time of their death.

Disclaimers: toe-curling smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder

Word Count: 11.4K

S E R I E S   M A S T E R L I S T

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

I watched the puddles fly past on the road below us, the street lamps reflecting in its shiny water. The car was silent, save for Dean's mixtape quietly playing through the speakers. It was the perfect breeding ground for my mind to race at a million miles a minute.

I glanced to the front of the car where Dean was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. I could tell he hadn't been sleeping lately. In the middle of the night I'd wake up, catching him pouring over lore books about demons and crossroads deals. I felt so guilty over how much energy they were putting into trying to save me when I knew it was hopeless.

I'd also noticed the Colt, specifically, its missing bullet the night after we'd finished up our last hunt. I shifted on the seat, my eyes bouncing between the two of them.

“So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs," I began, my voice cutting through the quiet. Dean's eyes bounced up to mine in the rearview mirror as Sam looked at me over his shoulder. "You got something to tell me?”

Dean frowned as he thought about it. “It's not your birthday.”

“No.”

Sam hesitated, looking to Dean for help. “...Happy Purim? El, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about—”

“There's a bullet missing from the Colt," I said, and instantly I knew this wasn't news to them. "You guys wanna tell me how that happened? I know it wasn't me. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...”

“Ellie…” Dean sighed, but I cut him off.

“You went after her, didn’t you? The crossroads demon. After I told you not to!"

Sam shook his head. “Yeah, well...”

“You guys could have gotten yourselves killed!”

“We didn't," Dean countered. I chuckled in disbelief, shaking my head.

“And you shot her.”

“She was a smartass!”

I sat back against the leather seat, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?”

Sam looked back at me, “Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, El? No. Someone else holds the contract.”

“Who?”

“She wouldn't say.”

I brought my bottom lip between my teeth. “Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the crossroads demon. Oh, wait a minute...”

“That's not funny," Dean shot at me.

“No, it's not! It was a stupid fucking risk, and you shouldn't have taken it!"

“We shouldn't have taken it?" Dean asked, incredulously. "You're our sister, Ellie. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?”

I kept my eyes locked on his until he pulled them away to look back at the road. I knew Dean was right. They weren't going to stop until they found a way out of my deal, but I knew it wouldn't end well.

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

Our next case brought us to a wealthy neighborhood situated just beyond a lake lined with boat docks. Yachts and jet skis all parked, bobbing above the blue waters.

Our victim's closest living family member was the first person we decided to talk to. She was pushing eighty, her white hair pulled back into a loose bun revealing the large pearl earrings and pearl necklace she wore. She was holding an oil painting of her niece as she spoke, “But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other detectives."

“Right, yes. But, see, we're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department – different departments," Dean said.

Sam nodded along to Dean's words. “So, Mrs. Case...”

“Please…" She said, cutting Sam off, "Ms. Case.”

Sam glanced to Dean and I as Ms. Case smiled fondly at him. Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. Um, Ms. Case...you were the one who found your niece, correct?”

“I came home, she was in the shower," she confirmed.

“Drowned?” I questioned.

“So the coroner says. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?”

“How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death?" Dean asked, avoiding her question. "I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary, or...?”

Suddenly, Ms. Case broke out into a large grin. “Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?”

“Yep. Absolutely," Dean said immediately. "That Alex and us, we're like this.” Dean held up his two crossed fingers.

“Why didn't you say so?" She beamed as she took a seat on her floral patterned couch. "Alex has been such a comfort. But I’m sorry. I thought the case was solved.”

“Uh...well, no. No, not yet."

“I see.”

I cleared my throat, trying to get this woman back on topic. “So, anyways, we were talking about your niece.”

“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat.”

“A boat?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I motioned toward the marina just outside Ms. Case's window. "Aren't there boats all over the place out there?"

“Well, yes, but this one she said was a ship...with great big masts and everything, just like one out of a pirate movie," she explained. "One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes...you think it could be a...ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.”

Sam, Dean and I shared a look. “Well, um...could be.”

"Well. You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," Ms. Case said as she reached a hand out toward Sam, resting it on his arm and smirked up at him. "Anything at all.”

Dean and I desperately tried to hide our laughs behind our hands as Sam shot her a quick nod and quickly pulled his arm away.

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

“What a crazy old broad," Dean laughed as we rounded the corner off of Ms. Case's property and back toward the busy main street.

“Why? Because she believes in ghosts?” Sam asked.

“Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound," I laughed, making Sam shake his head.

“Bite me.”

“Hey, not if she bites you first," I said, shivering. "So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job.”

“And we're thinking ghost ship, right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either," I said, recalling the research I'd done on the drive here.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings.”

“So, whatever's happening is just getting started," Sam concluded.

“What's the lore?” Dean asked.

“Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman–" Sam listed from what seemed like memory. "Almost all of them are death omens.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?”

“Basically.”

Dean shook his head. “What's the next step?”

“Gotta I.D. the boat.”

“That shouldn't be too hard," I said. "I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?”

“I checked that too, actually," Sam said. "Over one hundred and fifty.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Wow...shit."

We continued walking along the pier toward the parking lot when Dean suddenly stopped, looking up and down the row of cars and the single, empty parking space.

“This is where we parked the car, right?” Dean asked.

I held a hand over my eyes as I double checked the line of cars. “I thought so.”

Dean stepped into the empty space, his hands held out at his sides. “Where's my car?”

“Did you feed the meter?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I fed the meter! Where’s my car!?" He shouted, turning around. "Somebody stole my car!”

I quickly shushed him as he continued to look around frantically. Bystanders were starting to stare at his outburst. “Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Dea—"

“I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca—” Dean stopped, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, his face suddenly going ashen white.

“Whoa. Dean. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy," Sam said, pulling him upright.

“The '67 Impala?" A familiar, British, voice said as it approached us. "Was that yours?”

The three of us turned toward the voice as we all groaned in unison, “Bela.”

Bela came to a stop in front of us. “I'm sorry. I had that car towed.”

“You what?!” Dean shouted at her.

She shrugged. “Well, it was in a tow-away zone.”

“No, it wasn't!”

“It was when I finished with it," she smirked.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

“A little yachting.”

“You're Alex," Sam said, making Dean and I look up at him in confusion. "You're working with that old lady.”

Suddenly it all began to click. “Gert's a dear old friend.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right. What's your angle?”

“There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats.”

“And let me guess, it's all a con, none of it's real," Dean said.

“The comfort I provide them is very real.”

Bela began to turn away from us and down toward the pier. “How do you sleep at night?” Sam called after her.

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money," she said. I raised my eyebrows. "Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from them, but you?”

“You shot me!”

"I barely grazed you," she countered, as if it made it any better. "Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?”

“You do know what's going on around here. This ghost ship thing, it is real," Dean said.

“I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way.”

“It isn't.”

“She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers."

I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. God forbid you do something good for someone once in a while."

Bela clenched her jaw before changing the subject, "Look...just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you...before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao." We watched as Bela walked away, anger radiating off of the three of us.

“Can I shoot her?” Dean asked.

I sighed, nothing would make me happier. “Not in public.”

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

The second victim was a middle aged man who lived just a few houses down from Gert's. It was a large, modern home with an even larger gated fence surrounding it.

The three of us piled out of the Impala, where from here we could see Bela, talking to the victim in a fake American accent.

“I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Warren. Now, if you could just tell me one more time about the ship your brother saw-"

I rolled my eyes as we approached, flashing her and the victim our badges. “Ma'am, I think this man's been through quite enough. You should go.”

“But I just have a few more questions-"

“No, you don't," Sam interjected.

Bela gave the victim a tight-lipped smile before glaring at us. “Thank you for your time.”

“Sorry you had to deal with that," I said to the victim before yelling over my shoulder to Bela. "They're like roaches!”

“So, we heard you say your brother saw a ship," Dean inquired, laying a hand on the man's shoulder as he steered him in the other direction.

“Yeah, that's right," he confirmed. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

“Did he tell you what it looked like?”

The man nodded, running the sleeve of his sweater under his nose. “It was, uh...like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging. Angel figurehead on the bow.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw.”

“My brother and I were night diving," he said. "I saw the ship, too.”

Sam, Dean and I shared a silent look. We may have just stumbled onto our next victim. Dean nodded. “Alright. Well, we'll be in touch.”

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

Back at the car, the three of us were loading our weapons a few blocks down from the crime scene.

“I see you got your car back," Bela said as she came up from behind.

“You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?” Dean asked.

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat?"

I pumped the sawed off shotgun in my hand before throwing it down into the arsenal and shutting the trunk. “That guy back there saw the ship.”

Bela narrowed her eyes at me. “Yeah? And?”

“And, he's going to die, so we have to save him," Sam said this time.

Bela cooed. “Aww. How sweet.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at her utter lack of empathy. “You think this is funny?”

“He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You're unbelievable."

Sam, Dean and I rounded the car, each of us opening our doors when Dean spoke up, “Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so...we're gonna try.”

“Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun.”

Dean looked to Sam and I, almost in disbelief. “Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh? What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?”

“I don't know. Your daddy give you enough?" She asked, matching his deadly glare. "Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am.”

“We help people," Dean said.

Bela nearly laughed. “Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me – which is healthier?”

“Bela, why don't you just leave? We've got work to do," Sam said.

“Yeah. You're 0 for 2," she said, looking at him now. "Bang-up job so far.”

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

It was well past sunset as we watched who we thought was going to be the next victim, the same guy who just lost his brother not 24 hours ago, Peter Warren.

From our parking spot, hidden in the dark across from Peter's brother's house, we could see him maneuvering around inside. I glanced back over to Sam who was shuffling through Peter and his brother, Howard's, records.

“Anything good?” I asked, rotating the straw around the slushie I begged Dean to buy me by the pier.

"Could you be any louder with that," Dean asked, annoyed.

"Can you be any louder with that," I mocked.

Sam shook his head, ignoring us. “No, not really. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago.”

“How much?”

“$112 million.”

Dean whistled. “Nice life.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?”

I shrugged, shaking the shaved ice again, mostly to annoy Dean. “Maybe nothing.”

Sam continued squinting at the papers. “No. There's always something.”

“Hey, you!” A voice suddenly yelled from outside the house. We snapped our necks upward to Peter who was walking angrily toward the car.

“I think we've been made," Dean said as we all slipped out.

“What are you guys doing?! You watching me?!” Peter shouted from across the driveway.

“Sir, calm down. Please-" Sam tried, but Peter only cut him off.

“You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not– not in that crappy car!"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.”

“We are cops, okay? We're undercover. We're here because we think you're in danger," I said.

“From who?!”

“If you just settle down, we'll talk about it.”

Peter shook his head, not believing a word. He began to slowly back up toward the house. “Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Then, Peter took off running toward his car that was parked in front of the house before he peeled away from the driveway.

“Wait!” Sam called after him.

“Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!” Dean shouted as Peter's car stalled just in front of the gated fence.

“That can't be good," I said.

“No," Sam agreed. "Get the salt gun.”

I ran back toward the Impala, quickly grabbing the shotgun as I ran back toward the car that Sam and Dean were just coming to a stop by. They were pounding on the window, trying to get Peter to open the door, to no avail.

“Peter!”

I slid to a stop beside the passenger side where a spirit was sitting shotgun. He was drenched, with long dark hair covering half of his face. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. Peter was in the driver's seat, water spewing from his mouth in an endless waterfall.

“Get down!” I shouted to Sam and Dean who turned away from the car before I fired a round through the window, effectively making the spirit disappear and shattering both the passenger and driver side windows.

I peered inside where Peter was now slumped against the steering wheel. Dean knocked the rest of the glass away and unlocked the car door from the inside. Sam pulled Peter back against the seat, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. A single stream of water was traveling from his open mouth down to his shirt collar. Sam quickly felt around Peter's throat for a pulse, but shook his head at Dean and I when he came back with nothing.

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

Dean's POV

The car ride back to the house we were squatting in was silent as Ellie slept in the backseat. The only noise came from the weather announcement over the radio: “...when what started out as a severe weather front headed in from the Northwest. Expect heavy lightning and thunder, with sudden rainfall—”

I quickly shut it off, looking over at Sam who hadn't said as much as three words since we left Peter's house. “Do you wanna say it or should I?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“You can't save everybody, Sam.”

Sam looked over at me, slightly puzzled. “Yeah, right, so– so what, you feel better now or something?”

I sighed, looking back to the road. “No, not really.”

“Me neither.”

I tapped my thumbs against the wheel, trying to find the right words to say. “You gotta understa—”

“It’s just lately, I feel like I can't save anybody," Sam blurted. I let my eyes linger on him a second longer before going back to the road, shaking my head softly. I looked up through the rearview mirror at Ellie, curled against the back door. I wanted so badly to be able to tell them both how close I felt I was to figuring all this out. But, I knew I couldn't. Not yet. Not until the deal was done.

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

I had a plan in place. I needed to summon another demon, find out who the hell holds Ellie's contract. If all went well, I'd kill the son of a bitch. If not, I still had the option of offering myself up.

I thought about this as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, trying to act like I was busy. My eyes wandered over to Ellie who was sprawled across an arm chair, her legs dangling over one side, her eyes closed with her headphones on. I automatically knew one thing, looking at her: there was nothing that was going to keep me from saving her.

A pounding at the door of the house we were squatting in made the three of us quickly straighten up. Ellie pulled her headphones off, letting them dangle around her neck where I could hear Walk This Way by Aerosmith blaring from them. Sam looked to us from where he was sitting at a small table littered with lore books.

I snapped my phone shut as I made my way toward the door, my hand on my gun as I looked through the peephole before sighing and pulling the door open for Bela. Sam and Ellie visibly relaxed.

Bela scrunched up her face as she came inside, looking around at the dingy surrounds. “Dear...god. Are you actually squatting? Charming." She came deeper into the room, stopping in front of the table Sam was at. "So how'd things go last night with Peter?”

Sam and Ellie continued to glare at her before Ellie placed her headphones back over her head. Bela turned to me. “That well, huh?”

“If you say 'I told you so', I swear to god I'll start swinging," I warned, sitting down beside Sam.

“Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart.”

“That's assuming that you have a heart.”

Bela dropped her hands to her sides. “Dean, please...I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts.”

“Such as?” Sam questioned.

Bela pulled out a black zip-up folder. “I've ID'd the ship.”

I watched her, trying to decipher whether or not she was bluffing, but the look on her face told me otherwise. I ran my tongue over my teeth before turning toward Ellie, motioning her forward. She groaned, rolling off the chair and throwing her iPod to the side.

Bela smirked, seeming satisfied as Ellie plopped down in the chair opposite me. Bela dropped the folder onto the table, handing us each pictures of the same ship. "It's the Espírito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel, quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

"Which would explain the 37 year cycle," Sam said, mainly to himself.

"Aren't you a sharp tack," Bela said before rifling through the rest of the photos. "There's a photo of him somewhere...here."

Bela handed me a black and white picture with two men. I squinted at the guy closest to the camera, turning it to Sam and Ellie. "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?"

"You saw him?" Bela asked.

Ellie nodded. "Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand."

"His right hand?"

Sam squinted up at Bela. "How'd you know?"

"The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory."

"A hand of glory?" I smirked. "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week."

The three of them shot me a confused look before Sam spoke up, "Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful."

"So they say," Bela said.

"And officially counts as remains," Ellie chimed in. “But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims.”

Bela began gathering all of the pictures back into the folder. “I'll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.”

I watched as she zipped up the folder. “I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?”

“Because I know exactly where the hand is.”

I raised my eyebrows, looking to Sam and Ellie and then back to Bela, wondering what the hell we were sitting around for. “Where?”

“At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history, owned by one of the wealthiest families in the East, the Bransons. But I need help.”

I knew there was going to be a fucking catch. I groaned. “What kind of help?”

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

Ellie's POV

"This is awful...it's awful," I said to myself as I looked up and down the dirty mirror in one of the abandoned bedrooms on the second floor of the house. Bela failed to mention we were going to be going to a black tie event where we actually had to look presentable.

The dress itself was beautiful. A red, satin number with thin straps and defined waist line. It reached down about mid-calf, showing off the heels Bela told me I needed to wear, especially to an event like this. The dress was originally hers, but said it made her feel more like a hooker than anything so she was more than happy to let me wear it for the night. However, with me in it, I felt like I looked like a linebacker dressing up for Halloween.

I turned each way in the mirror, trying to see it from every angle. I messed with my hair numerous times before groaning and letting it fall in thick waves past my shoulders. I leaned in closer to my reflection, examining the makeup I desperately tried to do with what little I had.

"El, you ready yet?" Dean's voice called from down the hallway, Sam's footsteps not far behind as they came into the room before stopping. They were both half dressed in their tuxes, Dean trying to tie his tie and Sam buttoning his sleeves. For a split second as I watched them, I could see their eyes soften.

Sam smiled. "You look-"

"Yeah, yeah, get it out," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "C'mon, I can take it."

"No, you just..." Sam hesitated and for a second, I was worried it was worse than I thought. "You look beautiful, El."

I shifted on my feet. "Really?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Which was exactly what I was worried about. We've gotta get this dead guy's hand and I have to make sure you're not sneaking off with some guy or girl-"

"Shut up," I laughed, grabbing the rest of my things.

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

Dean's POV

“What is taking so long?" Bela yelled from downstairs. "Ellie and Sam have been there for nearly an hour...with Sam's date."

“I am so not okay with this!” I yelled back, twisting the suit back and forth.

“What are you, a woman? Come down already!"

I groaned, making my way down the stairs. Bela instantly straightened up. She didn't look half bad for the raging bitch I knew she was. Her black dress was low cut and fell just above her knees. She wore a shining diamond necklace and her hair was in a low bun. I came to a stop in front of her. “I look ridiculous.”

Bela shrugged, looking me up and down. “Not exactly the word I'd use.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, waiting for the punchline. “What?”

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

I blinked twice, not sure I heard her correctly, but she continued to watch me, pointedly. I scoffed, stunned and unsure of what to say. I awkwardly crossed my arms, trying to remind myself that this was the same woman who got my car towed not 48 hours ago. “Don't objectify me. Let’s go.” I walked ahead of her, smirking, unable to hide my excitement.

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

The Sea Pines Museum was much bigger than I could've imagined. I glanced up at the stone walls, water fountains, and acre upon acre of land the place was settled on.

Bela wrapped her arm around mine as we entered through the front doors. She passed the invitation to the party over to the man standing behind a podium by the entrance. He glanced at it, checking it against his list before nodding, inviting us in.

The place was crawling with old white guys with money and their incredibly young wives. Waiters weaved their way slowly through the crowd with trays of champagne and little foods on tiny plates.

“Are you chewing gum?" Bela asked me suddenly before we could even make it into the main room. I stopped chewing as she glared at me. "Try to behave as if you've lived this life before, yeah?”

I turned in a half circle, looking for a trashcan when a large water fountain caught my eye. I took out my gum, sticking it to the underside of the base of the fountain. I turned back, giving Bela two thumbs up, making her close her eyes and shake her head before leading me further into the crowd.

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

Sam’s POV

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet where I stood in a secluded corner with Gert, scanning the crowd for any sign of Dean, or Ellie who'd run off to the bathroom nearly half an hour ago.

“This'll get their tongues wagging, eh, my Adonis?” Gert said, smiling widely up at me as she gripped my suit jacket in a tight fist.

I gave her my best fake smile. “Just remember, we're on business.”

“Ooooh, but sometimes business can be pleasure, hmm?” She said, running her hand up the middle of my back

I quickly pulled away, taking her hands in mine once I saw Dean and Bela enter the room, heading toward the bar Ellie was leaning up against. “You know, uh, could you excuse me for a moment?”

Gert smiled playfully. "Of course."

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

Ellie's POV

I leaned up against the open bar, downing a glass of champagne as Dean and Bela came toward me. “Nice monkey suit.”

“You clean up well,” Bela said as she sat at the bar next to me.

I wrinkled my nose, glancing from her to Dean. “Did she just say something not insulting to me?”

“I’m feeling generous tonight,” she said before smirking up at Dean, taking a sip from her glass.

My eyes bounced between them, realization settling in. “Oh, gross. You’re kidding me! With Bela?!”

“Shut up,” Dean groaned, taking a long drink.

Sam came up from behind Dean. “Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?”

I smirked as I looked around him to Gert. “She’s hot, Sammy.”

“As long as it takes,” Bela said, Sam shooting me a glare.

“Look, there’s security all over this place. This is an un-crashable party without Gert’s invitation, so-”

“We can crash anything, Dean,” Sam said through ground teeth.

“Yeah I know, but this is easier and a lot more entertaining,” Dean smiled, raising his eyebrows in excitement.

“You know there are limits to what I’ll do, right?”

“Aww, he’s playing hard to get,” Dean said, making Bela and I laugh. “That’s cute.”

Dean and Bela made their way across the room and Sam lingered before Gert motioned him toward her. He glanced back at me. “Save me.”

“Sam, it’s not polite to leave a girl waiting,” I said, suppressing my laughter. Sam rolled his eyes nearly to the back of his head before grabbing my glass of champagne out of my hand, throwing it back before meeting Gert in the middle of the floor.

I leaned back against the bar, laughing. This was the easiest case I ever worked. I was just watching Sam awkwardly talk with Gert when a soft hand landed on my shoulder. I whipped around where a tall, dark haired man threw his hands up as if to prove he wasn’t a threat. He smiled widely, showing his white, perfect, teeth. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I quickly swallowed, blinking twice before blindly setting the glass behind me, nearly dropping it to the floor. The corners of his mouth upturned slightly, watching me struggle.

“You- you didn’t.”

He nodded once, motioning to the stool next to me. “This seat taken?”

“All yours.”

He sat down, swirling the drink in his glass. I could see him from my peripherals, his dark blue eyes glancing over to me every few seconds before he finally spoke, “You come to these often?”

“No…first time, actually.”

“Yeah?" He scanned the room. "Sorry to disappoint, they’re not all they’re made out to be."

“Yeah…music’s not that great, but the company is,” I said, a swell of confidence rolling through me. He gave me a half smile as he nodded, his curly hair bouncing. I bit my lip, thinking of anything to say to get whatever this was moving along. “You wanna dance?”

A smile broke out over his face. “Hell yeah I do.”

I laughed, dragging him out to the floor, the slow music swaying us. He held one hand on my lower back, holding me against him. Our other hands interlocked next to us. I felt my heart rate pick up as I looked up at him, now so close I could smell the champagne on his breath mixed with the cologne on his suit collar.

He spun me around, making me smile before he pulled me back into him, my chest flush against his. I looked up at him, our faces only inches from each other. My eyes darted from his eyes down to his lips and then back up to his eyes before carefully leaning in, our lips just barely grazing. We stayed like this for what felt like forever before I pushed forward completely.

He brought his large hand up to my cheek, bringing it under my hair to the back of my neck. Then, he pulled away, my lips still slightly pursed before prying my eyes open. I could feel the way his breathing picked up against my own abdomen. I scanned his face. “You wanna take this somewhere else?”

He beamed, nodding. “Follow me.”

He took my hand, leading me toward the entryway where there was a grand staircase against the wall, two guards standing in front of it. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to where he was taking me when the guards nodded to him without another word, parting and letting us up the stairs.

I widened my eyes. “Who are you?”

He looked back at me. “I should’ve introduced myself, I’m sorry…my name’s Oliver. Oliver Branson.”

I wracked my brain, I knew that name from somewhere when suddenly it hit me. “Like…Branson, Branson? Your family, they-”

“Yeah,” he said as we made it to the second floor. “They own this place.”

“Right,” I said, giddiness rising up in my chest as he led me down a long hallway and into a secluded room, shutting and locking the large door behind me.

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

Dean's POV

After Bela and I made an initial sweep around the first floor of the museum, we found ourselves back at the entryway. Bela whispered to me. "Private security?"

"I don't think so," I said, glancing at the security guards posted around the room. Two in front of a large staircase, and another by the front door. "Look at the way they're standing. They're pros. Probably state troopers moonlighting."

"Posted to every door, too."

I nodded. "Yeah, I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs."

Bela looked up at me. "What do you suggest?"

"I'm thinking."

"Don't strain yourself," she said, making me glare at her. "Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man."

"You got any bright ideas, I'm all ears."

"Okay," she said before suddenly falling backwards into my arms, her eyes rolling back into her head.

"Honey? Honey, are you alright?" I improvised, slowly lowering her to the ground. I looked around the room. "Waiter!" The waiter just a few feet away abandoned the couple he was serving, quickly coming to me. "Hi. My wife has a severe shellfish allergy. There's no crab in that? Is there?"

The waiter looked down at the tray he was holding. "No, sir."

"No?" I said, before grabbing one and popping the whole thing into my mouth. "Oh they're excellent, by the way."

"What seems to be the trouble?" One of the guards asked, coming up once the waiter had left.

"Ah...champagne!" I dismissed quickly, silently cursing Bela for making me have to think so quick on my feet. "My wife, she's a lightweight when it comes to the sauce. Is there somewhere I can lay her down till she gets her sea legs back?"

The guard thought for a second before nodding. "Follow me."

"Right. Thank you," I said, picking Bela up off the floor. "Come on, you lush."

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

Sam's POV

Gert and I swayed slowly to the music coming from the live orchestra. I continued to try to remind myself that all Dean had to do was find the goddamned hand and we'd be out of here.

"Where's Alex and your friend? They're missing a great party," Gert asked.

"I'm sure they’re entertaining themselves."

"Oooh, naughty. Then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves as well." Gert's hand on my back began to travel lower and lower. I quickly pulled away, grimacing as I took her hand in mine.

"Whoa, uh…ha, y-you know, Mrs. Case," I stumbled before correcting myself after the look she gave me. "I— I'm sorry, Ms. Case...I don't wanna give you the wrong idea."

"Call me Gert." She laid her head on my chest. "You remind me of my late husband...he was shy too...'til we got below deck."

Her hand whipped out from between us and squeezed my ass again. I jumped away, "Whoa!"

"Mmmm, you're just firm all over," Gert smiled, running her hands over my shoulders. I laughed uncomfortably, desperately scanning the room for any sign of Ellie or Dean.

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

Ellie's POV

I quickly pulled Oliver toward me, my hands running over the smooth skin on his cheeks. I deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue swipe over my bottom lip before I fully opened it, our tongues dancing together. His lips moved from mine, kissing down my jaw, my neck, all the way to my collarbone and just above the material of my dress.

Oliver pulled away, looking down at me as he slowly began to slide down to the floor, his hands locked on either side of my body. I watched as he slid his hands under the material of my dress before his head disappeared beneath it. I let out a breath, the back of my head hitting the door as I laced my fingers through his hair.

I felt his hand go under my right leg, hiking it up and over his shoulder as he pulled my underwear to the side, licking a long stripe from the base of my vagina all the way up to my clit.

"Oliver," I breathed out.

His hands traveled back up to cup my ass, bringing my hips closer to his face. His lips were tight around my clit, sucking and pulling at it before pulling away. "I love when you say my name. Say it again."

"Oliver," I moaned again as he reattached his lips. My grip on his shoulders tightened just before he came up for air. He smiled down at me as he stood, his hair disheveled as he leaned down to kiss me, planting the palms of his hands on either side of my head against the door. My breathing quickened as he hooked two fingers over the straps of the dress, pulling it down and letting the material fall from my body.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, his hands pulling my hips closer to him as he kissed down to my now bare breasts, taking one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. I panted, grasping the short hairs on the nape of his neck before pulling him back up to my mouth.

His lips crashed back into mine as he walked me backward, gently laying me across the couch in the middle of the room, his knee slotting right between my legs. I ground down on his thigh, moaning at the friction. I brought my hands under his suit jacket, quickly pushing it off of his broad shoulders and making quick working of his white button down. His skin warm against mine. I pulled him close to my bare chest, my nails scratching up and down his skin.

And that was when we heard it: the unmistakable sound of the door handle shaking. Oliver and I quickly sat up, looking toward the door. Oliver swiftly shed his jacket, laying it over me.

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

Dean's POV

I followed the guard up the stairs and down a long hallway to a large set of double doors. The guard jiggled the handle, but the door was locked from the inside. The guard made a face, knocking. "Anyone in there?"

"Just me, sir," a voice called from the other side, followed by something falling inside the room.

The guard straightened up, "Pardon me, Mr. Branson. Is everything alright?"

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

Ellie's POV

"Yes, sir," Oliver called, wincing at the lamp that he'd knocked over when his foot got caught in the cord. "Everything's fine."

We waited a second, the two of us holding our breath before we heard two sets of feet leading away from the door.

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

Dean's POV

The guard seemed unsure, but had no choice but to turn around and take us to a room across the hall. I plopped Bela down onto a leather couch in the bedroom once the guard opened the door. I sighed, shaking my head at him. "You think she's a pain in the ass now, try living with her." I walked the guard to the door, closing it behind him. "Thank you very much."

I turned to Bela who was sitting up on the couch. I whispered angrily to her, "Hey maybe next time give me a little heads up with your plan?"

"I didn't want you thinking. You're not very good at that," she said. I scoured my brain for something to shoot back at her, but came up with nothing. "Oh, look at you. Searching for a witty rejoinder."

"Screw you."

"Very Oscar Wilde," she said. I shook my head, ready to get this hand and get the hell out of this place. "Room 235. It's in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," I mocked, rolling my eyes.

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

Ellie's POV

Once we knew we were finally alone, Oliver and I burst out laughing. He dropped his head onto my shoulder, his hair tickling my face as his shoulders shook.

"Sorry about your lamp," I laughed, wiping tears from my face.

He looked up, tears brimming his eyes as he looked back at the lamp behind him, laughing even harder, "That thing was- was so ugly."

I laughed, shaking my head as I laid an arm behind my head on the couch's arm rest. Oliver bit his lip, leaning in to kiss me again. I gripped the short hairs on the back of his neck, pulling his jacket from off of me.

“Need you,” I panted into his mouth. “Please.”

He smirked, the two of us making quick work of his belt before he shed his pants to the ground along with the other articles of clothing. I felt his hardened cock against my thigh as he dipped down for another kiss, his hands tangling through my hair.

I palmed his erection, eliciting a groan from him before reaching inside his boxers. The sight of his cock sent immediate warmth down to my center, my knees tightening around his middle.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He asked. I nodded quickly as he inched down, tearing my underwear off my hips. He leaned forward again, the tip of his leaking cock pressing up against my clit. I let out a moan, gripping his shoulders as he teased my entrance before slowly pressing inside.

I let out a breath as he bottomed out and he didn’t waste any time thrusting into me at a slow pace. A high pitched noise left me. “Harder…please, god, harder.”

Oliver smiled as he picked up the pace, lifting my hips as he slammed harder into me. “So fucking tight, Ellie,” he groaned. “God you feel so good.”

I couldn't speak, sweat breaking out over every inch of my body when I felt Oliver twitch inside me. I knew he was close. Oliver leaned down, taking my nipple into his mouth again before bring his thumb over my clit, rubbing at it expertly.

“I’m gonna cum,” I muttered, my nails scratching over his back.

“Cum for me, Ellie,” he groaned and, in an instant, I was unravelling under him, my orgasm ripping through my body. I moaned loudly, bucking my hips upward. I watched as Oliver thrusted a few more times before quickly pulling out, ropes of cum painting my stomach and thighs.

“Fuck,” I panted. He looked around, grabbing a box of tissues, cleaning me up. He leaned in again, pecking my lips before I sat up, pushing my disheveled hair from my sweaty forehead. I snatched my underwear from the ground, sliding them back on before throwing my dress over my head. I watched as he got dressed too, smirking.

“What?” he asked, smiling as he buttoned his shirt.

“It’s just…it’s just been a while, that’s all.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

I nodded one more time, resisting the urge to kiss him again as I stood, making my way toward the large doors. “I need to get back downstairs.”

“What do you say we do this again,” he offered, a hopeful look in his eyes. “A proper date next time. Dinner, a movie…the whole thing.”

My smile fell. No matter how much I wished for this to go on longer, I knew it couldn't. “I wish I could, but I’m not exactly from here. I won’t be around for long.”

His face fell, but he nodded understandingly. “Where are you from, then?”

“Here, there,” I said vaguely. “Everywhere.”

“Ah,” Oliver smirked but I could sense a hint of sadness in his voice. “Well, whenever you’re back from…everywhere…come and see me sometime.”

My fingers drummed against the wooden door. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“See ya, Ellie.”

I smiled before slipping out of the room, resting my back against the door as I closed it behind me. I let out a long breath, smiling despite myself. I turned to return down the staircase when I noticed a door at the other end of the hall, its large wooden doors with ornate detailing staring back at me. It looked important and I suddenly remembered why we were here in the first place. I glanced from the door I’d just come through and down the stairs where the guards seemed too preoccupied with guarding them that they didn’t seem to care about two kids upstairs.

I let my curiosity get the better of me, crossing the hallway and pushing the door open with the flat of my hand as I snuck inside, closing it behind me. Then, there, in the middle of the room secured in a glass case, was the hand.

I stepped closer, eyeing it when a door adjacent to the one I came in opened. I nearly ducked down but stopped when I realized it was Dean. I furrowed my brow. “What’re you doing here?”

Dean stopped in his tracks. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m getting the hand,” I said, gesturing to it. “Remember?”

Dean nodded slowly. “How’d you get up here?”

I hesitated, nervously tugging the ends of my dress as he stepped closer, examining my face. “I could…ask you the same thing?”

Dean's eyes widened. “What did you do?”

“Dean, first I’d like to point out that I’m twenty two years old-”

“Oh god,” Dean said, his face going ashen white, bringing a fist over his mouth. “Jesus Christ, don’t tell me…”

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the fireplace, noticing my tousled hair and smudged makeup. I grimaced at the sight, knowing there really wasn’t a way out of this one. “I’m a big girl, Dean-”

“Don’t,” he warned, holding a hand out, his eyes closed. “Who was it? Huh? One of those guards? Christ I’m gonna kill him. I don’t care who it is, I’m gonna kill him!"

“Dean,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re being ridiculous. And it wasn’t a guard…it- it was the museum owner’s son.”

Dean’s eyes became even bigger. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Lets just get this thing and get out of here, alright!?” I nearly shouted, wanting to be over with this already.

Dean shook his head, kneeling beside the case, muttering something to himself about murder as he picked the lock to the security system.

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

Dean's POV

I continued to fight off the murderous rage I felt rolling through me in waves as I made my way back to the room Bela was in. I rounded the corner, roughly bumping into the guard who'd let us upstairs.

"Whoa. Sorry!" I apologized, gesturing behind me. "It's, uh...nature called."

"Ah huh," the guard said slowly, glancing back at the door.

"Thanks for looking after my wife."

The guard nodded once. "Oh, she's...being looked after, alright."

I furrowed my eyebrows as I snuck back into the guest room where Bela was pulling up the sleeves of her dress back over her shoulder. "Any trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she said. I pulled the hand from inside my suit jacket. "The hand? May I?"

I turned away from Bela's outstretched hands. "No."

"It might be more inconspicuous in my purse-"

"Nice try," I said, wrapping it in a handkerchief.

"Just trying to be helpful."

"Well, sweetheart," I said, opening the door for her. "I don't need your kind of help."

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

Sam's POV

At one point, I swore the night would never end. My feet were aching as Gert and I continued to dance to a song that seemed like it'd been going on for hours. Gert's head was resting against my chest, an empty champagne glass dangling from her fingers around the back of my neck.

"Man, this is one long song," I muttered.

"I hope it never ends," she giggled. "How's the investigation going?"

"These things take time," I said shortly.

"People are talking about the Warren brothers’ deaths," she said, looking up at me. "Strange...Do you think it’s connected to Shelia's?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we think so."

"I think they had it coming, you know. In a Biblical sort of way."

I furrowed my eyebrows at her words as she leaned back against my chest. "What do you mean?"

She slowly looked back up at me, "You know about their father?"

"No?"

"Come here, I'll whisper it to you," she said and before I could protest, she had her hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling me toward her. "People say that the old man didn't die of natural causes."

"Then how?" I grimaced.

"Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but...people still whisper."

"Okay, okay, okay," I said, quickly pulling away. I was beginning to feel like I was making at least some progress on the case and not just making a fool out of myself. "So did Sheila have any connection to them?"

"Well, none that I know of."

"Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?"

Gert paused, thinking about it before her eyes got large, "Yes. As a matter of fact there was...a car accident when she was a teenager."

"What happened?"

"Her car flipped over. She was okay but her cousin Brian was killed. Why, is that important?"

Yeah, Gert. It was real fucking important.

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

Ellie's POV

I descended the staircase, closely following Dean and Bela back into the museum's front room where Sam was still slow dancing with Gert. He physically relaxed in relief when he saw us. Bela beamed, "Well! Having a nice time?"

"He's delightful!" Gert smiled widely, cutting her voice down to a whisper for me and Bela. "He wants me!"

Dean and I raised our eyebrows, looking accusatorily at Sam. Bela veered Gert away and toward the front door, whispering to us behind her back, "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower."

Sam nodded. "Great idea."

"See you at the cemetery."

We watched as Bela and Gert disappeared out the front door. Dean turned to Sam and I. "You stink like sex. Both of you, it's disgusting."

Sam looked at me, puzzled when, from over Sam's shoulder, Oliver caught my gaze.

“That him?” Dean whispered, following my line of sight and spotting Oliver from across the room.

“Nope, nope, lets go,” I said, nearly pushing him out the door but Dean was much stronger and much bigger than I was. He easily stepped from my grasp, walking up to Oliver. “Oh, god.”

"Where's he going?" Sam asked, confused.

"Go! Go!" I said to Sam, pushing him toward Dean who he could tell wasn't just going for a friendly chat.

“Hey, you’re Oliver, yeah?” Dean asked.

“Yeah-” Oliver began when Dean tried to swing a fist but Sam grabbed his arm before he could collide it with Oliver's face. Oliver quickly ducked backward, watching with wide eyes as Sam and I pulled him from the museum.

“You better sleep with one eye open, buddy!” Dean shouted as we dragged him out the front door, the crowd parting like the Red Sea. “One eye!”

“Bye Oliver!” I shouted over Dean’s words, quickly slamming the front door behind us. Once we were outside, we ran to the car, Sam and Dean quickly shedding their bow ties.

"Are you fucking crazy, Dean!?" I shouted at him as soon as I got the chance.

"What?" Dean asked defensively as we slid into the car.

I shook my head. "You're on my shit list now."

"You got it, right?" Sam asked Dean, ignoring our argument. "Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing."

"I got it..." Dean said, pulling it from his jacket.

I scrunched my face up at Sam's words. "Mrs. Who?"

"Nevermind. Just let me see it."

I leaned between them, watching as Dean unfolded the handkerchief, but paused. Sam raised his eyebrows at him. "What?"

Dean pulled the object up into the dim lighting, but it wasn't the hand that was in the case upstairs. It was a small model ship inside a bottle. Dean's eyes filled with rage as he gripped it. "I'm gonna kill her."

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

"You know what, you’re right," Dean said, staring into the fireplace, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go."

Sam was flipping through a book. "Dean, look, you gotta relax."

"Relax! Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax," Dean said sarcastically before shouting, "I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

A beat of silence passed before I spoke, "You."

Dean narrowed his eyes at me. "What?"

I looked from him to Sam and then back to Dean. "I...I mean, she got one over...on you...not us."

Dean looked like he could strangle me. "Thank you, Ellie! Very helpful."

A loud banging came from the front door of the house, making Sam, Dean and I whip our heads toward it. Bela's voice calling out frantically from the other side, "Hello? Could you open up?"

Dean quickly made his way to the door, pulling it open. Bela looked at the three of us, and for the first time, I could've sworn she looked scared. "Just let me explain."

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

"I sold it," Bela admitted after dancing around all of our questions about the hand she stole from us. Dean glanced up at Sam and I from where he stood behind Bela. "I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed."

Dean grit his teeth as he walked around behind her chair, mimicking pulling a trigger at the back of her head. Sam was leaning up against the fireplace, his arms crossed. "So the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?"

"I needed a cover," she said simply. "You were convenient." It made sense. She was always just using us for one thing or another. As long as it was getting her what she wanted, she didn't care about anybody else.

"Look, you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back," I said, although I was sure it wouldn't be as simple as that.

"It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time."

Dean watched her. "In time for what?"

We waited, expectant of an answer, but Bela stayed silent. I scanned her face, they way she wouldn't meet any of our eyes. She hadn't even made one smartass comment since she's been here. "What's going on with you, Bela? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She worried her bottom lip before speaking, "I saw the ship." Sam, Dean and I shared a shocked look. I stood up straighter, shaking my head at the realization.

"You what?" Dean said, stalking towards her. "Wow, you know, I– I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—"

Bela looked up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"We figured out the spirit’s motive," Sam said this time, pulling out an old photo from our research. "This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy."

"So?"

"So they were brothers," I said, making Bela's eyes dart to mine. "Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family’s blood." My words made her shift uneasily, not tearing her gaze off the photograph. "See, first there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you."

"Oh my god," she muttered under her breath, putting her head in her hands.

Dean leaned down beside her, planting an arm on the back of her chair and the other on the table in front of her, cornering Bela. "So who was it? Hmm? Who'd you kill? Was it daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

"It's none of your business," she said quietly.

"No? Right. Well, have a nice life – you know, whatever’s left of it," Dean said, clapping her on the back as he began to gather his things. "Sam, Ellie, let’s go."

I followed behind Dean, unzipping my duffel bag and throwing my clothes inside. Bela stood quickly from the table. "You can't just leave me here."

"Watch us," I said over my shoulder, shoving my iPod into my pocket.

"Please," she began to beg, looking mainly to Sam who hadn't moved to grab his things yet. "I need your help."

Dean raised his eyebrows, throwing his duffel back onto the couch in disbelief. "Our help? Now how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

"That's not why you’re gonna die," Sam said, studying her. "What'd you do, Bela?" Bela was silent again before she shook her head. I could tell, just by looking at her that whatever the hell she did...she wasn't quite over it yet.

"You wouldn't understand. No one did," she whispered, shaking her head. "Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself."

"You do realize you just sold the one thing that could save your life," I said.

"I'm aware."

"Well..." Sam interjected. "Maybe not the only thing." Dean and I looked over to Sam who was staring down at a lore book in front of us, the pages open to a ritual. Bela's expression changed immediately to something resembling hope.

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

Our plan was a longshot, but it was something, and if Bela knew what was good for her she'd take something over nothing. Dean, Bela and I watched Sam as he lit the last candle surrounding a pentagram on a concrete bench in the middle of the cemetery the captain of our ghost ship and his brother were buried in. I glanced up at the sky, noticing how the rain clouds were so dark you could hardly make out the moon shining just behind them.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked, tightening her jacket around herself as it began to trickle rain.

"Almost definitely not," Dean retorted. A clap of thunder came overhead just as it began to downpour. I quickly zipped my jacket up, looking around the cemetery for any signs of our ghost friend.

"Sammy," I called to him, my hair and clothes already gluing to my body. "You better start reading."

Sam opened up dad's journal, reciting the Latin incantation. Dean and I stood on either side of Bela, shotguns held at the ready as we kept an eye out in every direction. The wind began to pick up, whipping the rain in every direction so hard it was difficult to see. The raindrops felt like tiny shards of glass smacking our exposed skin. The flames from the candles quickly blew out one by one as Sam read louder over the roaring winds.

"Behind you!" Bela shouted to Dean. I whipped around and sure enough, the same spirit who'd been in Peter Warren's car was standing inches behind Dean. Before I could even bring my gun up to blast him away, he grabbed Dean by his jacket and tossed him halfway across the cemetery like he was a ragdoll. Dean's shotgun went off just before he landed hard on the ground.

I shot a round into the spirit, effectively making him disappear for only a second before returning, this time, so close to my face I could see his lifeless eyes. The spirit grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing me backwards with so much force I slid across the wet grass, my back forcefully colliding with a tombstone. I sat up on my side, pushing up on the wet earth as I watched the spirit reach out to Bela, gently cupping her face right before she doubled over, water spewing violently from her mouth.

I climbed to my feet, Dean making it back to Bela before I did. We both dropped down beside her as she fell to her knees, gripping the ground in her fists as she tried to expel the excessive amounts of water that only seemed to be coming faster and faster out of her mouth. Dean pulled her close to him as she choked. I laid a hand on her back, looking over to Sam whose eyes were bouncing between the journal and the spirit ahead of us. "Sammy, read faster!" Sam nodded, reciting the incantation even faster, the rain coming down harder.

"Keep her upright! Don't let her fall forward!" I yelled to him as he shifted Bela upward more. The rain continued to fall for what felt like hours before suddenly, it stopped all together. I looked up at the sky, watching as the storm clouds quickly disappeared. I looked down at Bela who continued to cough, but there was no more water coming from her mouth.

"You..." a low, snarling voice came from ahead of us. I looked up to where the spirit had turned, looking to a much younger man. His brother. "You hanged me!"

"I'm sorry," he pleaded.

"Your own brother."

"I'm so sorry!" The spirit said again, but it wasn't enough. His brother ran forward, slicing through his body with his own, water exploding from the two of them where they connected until all that was left was a large puddle that dropped to the already flooded grass.

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

It felt good knowing things in this town were finally put to rest. I pulled down the towel atop my head drying my hair, throwing it over the couch as I collected my clothes to throw in my duffle. I sat down beside Dean, picking up my boot from the night before and dumping the water out of it, shaking my head.

"You three should learn to lock your doors," Bela said as she let herself in to the abandoned house. "Anyone could just barge in."

"Anyone just did," I murmured, cringing as I slid my still-soaked boots back on. "Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?"

"I've come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother– very clever, Sam. So here." She tossed each of us a stack of crisp hundred dollar bills wrapped in a rubber band. "It's ten thousand– that should cover it. I don't like being in anyone’s debt."

"So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?" Dean questioned, making Bela smirk. Dean shook his head. "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one," she said. "Goodbye lads."

We watched as Bela left without another word, slamming the front door behind her. Sam looked to us, "She's got style. You gotta give her that."

"I suppose."

"You know, we don't know where this money's been," I pointed out.

"No," Dean agreed with a smirk, snatching the money from mine and Sam's hands, "but I know where it's going."

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

"Seriously? Atlantic City?" Sam said from the passenger seat, looking down at the map Dean marked up for the trip.

"Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black," he beamed.

"Yeah, and while you're losing our money, I'll be hustling it all back," I said. "This place has one of the biggest pool halls in the country!"

Sam laughed despite himself as he put the flashlight back into his backpack. My smile faded as I fiddled with my phone in my hands, tossing it back and forth as I tried to conjure up the words I wanted to say.

"Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking," I began. I shifted uncomfortably, hating what Dean deemed as chick-flick moments. "Um...I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon. You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd've done the same thing..."

Sam and Dean were silent, letting me speak my peace. I tried not to think about the hell I knew this deal was putting them through or the fact that I was the root cause of it. "I mean I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay.”

“Oh, you think so?" Dean said.

“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you'll live your lives...you guys are stronger than me," I said in all seriousness, making Sam and Dean shake their heads. "You are! You are...you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I’m sorry for...putting you through all this, I am-"

“You know what, Ellie? Go screw yourself," Sam said suddenly, cutting me off.

I looked at him in confusion. "What?"

Sam turned around in his seat, looking at me, "I don't want an apology from you! And by the way, I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

I raised my eyebrows, throwing my hands up. "Oh, well excuse me."

"So would you please quit worrying about us? I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Ellie, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you're dying!"

I looked from him and over to Dean who was watching me through the rearview mirror. He shrugged, agreeing, "What he said."

I stared back, challenging before I decided that it wasn't worth it. I looked away, smiling softly as Sam widened his eyes. "So, that's it? Nothing else to say for yourself?"

I chuckled lightly. "I think maybe I'll play craps."

There was a beat of silence before Sam scoffed, shaking his head before going back to face the front again, Dean's eyes lingering on me.

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67​​ / @luciferslucille / @anti-social-club / @search-bar / @mellorine-paprika / @thepocketshoelace / @jaremish / @the-salty-asian / @robynannemackenzie-blog / @mersuperwholocked-lowlife / @caswinchester2000 / @damnedimpala / @lauren-novak / @adeanmon / @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce / @defenderrosetyler / @resanoona / @avngrsinitiative / @nyotamalfoy / @ykta-m

EPISODE REWRITE TAG LIST

@strangedeerconnoisseur / @artemisandromedaathena-blog / @elite4cekalyma / @dragon-master-kai / @bxrbiewrites

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@bunnyandy12 / @breereadsthings / @slytherinrising / @stressedoutkitten / @dragon-master-kai

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

[tipsypenguin31]

Dark Signs (Mihawk) Chapter 12, will 10000000% be posted tonight. When tonight exactly? Pssssshhhhh I have no clue. Could be 10pm…..10:02…….12. Haha I just hope I can continue this really good emotional state I’m in. Cause that’s what’s driving me to post. So gonna hold onto the rare happy serotonin boost for as long as I can before I’m back down again.

I was going to finish it last night, but in the middle of it, I got a really good fic idea for Supernatural. 💕 haven’t written for my #1 favorite fandom in a million years. That one though is still a WIP and nowhere near ready to be shared. It doesn’t even have a title 😂

What If Shanks chapter 3, is nearing completion. Hopefully, I can post that one tomorrow night. 💜

Chapter 4 for the Shanks fic will be a whole Benn Beckman & Amaris (my OC) chapter. Beckman has some questions for Amaris 🙊 this will also be the chapter where (hopefully) I can bring your OC as either a love interest or a very near and dear close friend to Beckman.

So if you would like to be that person or have your OC be that person. Let me know! That entire chapter will be dedicated solely to you, and you get 100% of the project credit. 🫶🏽

Anywhoooooosssss uh, well I guess that’s it for now.

Thank you to those who are following and loving my fics. Y’all are a HUGE Inspiration and have a lot to do with my serotonin high right now. So thank you so much. Truly 💜🥹

To those who are new. Welcome and I hope you are enjoying my fics and stay a spell. 💜

Alrighty well, catch y’all lovely peeps 🐥 on the flip side. 💚

[salchat]

This is my first 5th November in the fandom. So, here's my contribution to the tragedy. Sniff.

I used soft pastels, pastel pencils and then charcoal pencil. It wasn’t really working for me until I started using the pinky-red pastel pencil and somehow that just worked. So sad! Poor Dean. Poor Cas. Must read/write happy fanfic.