#apartment catfight

[fantasychickfights]

Cockiness meets Cockiness… they’re both overflowing with COCKiness… but only 1-can remain standing vs the other…

[drisk-female-wrestling]

Apartment wrestling

[bringittwo]

WHEN APARTMENT WRESTLING DESCENDS INTO A CATFIGHT

Her big boobs should give her a little bit of an edge if a breastsmothering opportunity presented itself. But her younger opponent is far too smart to let her rival's ample chest come anywhere near her pretty face ...

[femwrestlinggif]

Reminding her, who is in charge.....

[allthatsjass]

Battle for Queen of All That's Jass Continues

[rivalsrapture]

Want more Art? Or to see more of my NSFW art — maybe even more if this piece? Go here: https://www.DeviantArt.com/rivals_rapture

Want thousands of femfight stories from the web’s best writers? Go here!: https://www.Fights.Sexy

[wndaswife]

trying your hardest | wanda maximoff & gn!reader

After moving to America to join the Avengers, Wanda wants to finally make a friend to ease her loneliness. She hopes to become friends with you, and frankly, Wanda idolizes you, but her social skills are... subpar at best.

Word count: 5020

Tags: fluff, humour, some angst, emo wanda being a baby, a little thing, a small very tiny little thing, wanda has a very big crush on you :3 (she doesn't know it yet tho cuz she baby)

A/N: for plot purposes, imagine the avengers didn’t have a catfight after aou

gif credit to (i tried really hard and i CANNOT find who made this gif im sorry)

Wanda Maximoff never really had an education as a child. What education was available in Sokovia was expensive, and despite her father’s late working hours, the twins’ parents could only ever afford their apartment’s rent. The twins were homeschooled as well as their parents could teach them, but after the bombing, they were on their own. 

Government-funded schooling helped them for only so long. The schools they were sent to were decaying, and always under dwindling government watch from ongoing airstrikes. The ground shook with explosive tremors as they commuted to school on foot. Wanda and Pietro stayed at an orphanage with hundreds of other children whose parents had passed due to the war — and the Avengers. 

Even the government’s debt caught up with what was left of Sokovia. Billions of foreign debt not paid, volume of imports that had increased exponentially since Sokovia worked on rebuilding their country weren’t making enough revenue to pay exporters back. Hundreds of children were booted from government care and onto the streets. The twins attempted to learn on their own, to become informed educated people if they were to ever make a difference in the world, but in Sokovia, even resilience could only get one so far.

Then, Doctor Strucker came along, promising them the extermination of the Avengers, the Western terrorists who had made the already politically-unstable and war-torn country their battleground. 

In hopes to cure the world from their terrorist reign, both Wanda and Pietro agreed to Strucker’s experiments, but the education they were given intended for them to become weapons. They knew little of real geography and world history — only HYDRA’s propaganda meant to poison their minds with blind hatred and little else.

When it seemed like you couldn’t be any more different from Wanda as it was, you were also the team’s brain. Stark and Banner specialised in physics and mechanics, but you were the team’s hub for everything else. From computer science to philosophy, you knew everything. No one exceeded you in developing team strategy, setting the stages for mission locations, profiling adversaries, and a dozen of other things Wanda couldn’t have even fathomed when she first met the Avengers in person.

It took Wanda only several moments to realise you weren’t a frontline fighter from your muffled voice in the Avengers’ earpieces to their callouts of your name as frequent, and perhaps even moreso, than their teammates that fought alongside them on the field despite your physical absence. 

Y/N — that was your name. 

When she had fought the Avengers in Novi Grad, creeping behind the Western superpowers like a heavy looming shadow, Wanda had looked for you. Strategically, it was a rational move. You were the centre of their battle, the heart of their teamwork.

And yet, you were nowhere to be found.

It was only until she had crept up behind Clint Barton when your voice grew clearer than ever before. From the tiny earpiece, you were controlling the field. Perhaps you were just outside, or maybe you were in another country. No matter the distance, Wanda supposed your hold on the battle would be no less effective. 

It was the distraction of thinking about you, perhaps — Y/N, the invisible hand — or Barton’s sole intuition, Wanda did not know, nor did she have very much time to think it over, that had made it possible for him to counter her magic. 

Then there was pain — immeasurable pain that Wanda hadn’t felt since Strucker’s experiments. It shot through her forehead like a dozen bullets had permeated through her skull. Pietro grounded her, and soon after, the twins targeted Banner.

Despite the rumours about him, the insatiable angry force he was told to be, his mind was the easiest to corrupt. Mental instability and insecurity racked his mind, and he quickly shifted into the green beast the Maximoffs had heard so much about. 

Carrying his younger sister, Pietro took the two of them back to Ultron’s base. 

They had won that day.

You were all Wanda could think about even while she and Pietro were off missions. You weren’t the Avengers’ frontline defence like Steve Rogers, nor were you the brute strength of the team like Bruce Banner. You held your team in your hands rather than tugging them along by their leashes although you likely could if you wanted to.

Y/N. 

Who were you?

On the television after the fight on Novi Grad, Iron Man and Hulk’s brawl in Johannesburg was on the news. The city was in shambles. Pietro said something about the deaths of innocents and the success of his sister’s magic in having the Avengers turn against themselves. But Wanda could only think of what you had thought when Stark and Banner came back to their compound, beaten and sore from none other than their own fists. Wanda assumed the Avengers’ compound — wherever that was — was where you were too. 

Wanda wondered how you were dealing with the fight at Johannesburg. What were you saying about her and Pietro?

Later that day, Ultron approached the twins in their bedroom and turned on the television. Despite having been offered separate bedrooms, they insisted on sharing one. Sitting atop their respective beds on the opposite sides of the room, there was someone speaking on the television about Johannesburg across from the interviewer. Their expression was stern but their eyes were solemn. Eyebrows were furrowed together, masking concern and worry; if Wanda knew anything, it was how to read someone.

“Y/N,” the interviewer began, and Wanda’s eyes widened, her head lifting from being held up by her hands, elbows on her pillow as it laid flat atop her crossed legs. “As the Avengers’ strategist, as many put it, how are you planning on handling the devastation that came upon Johannesburg, and the inevitable contact that the Avengers will continue to have with innocent uninvolved civilians?”

The question was packed, and the news station quite clearly had their own sentiments about the Avengers; they were setting you up.

So that was how you looked. Wanda swallowed and felt her chest flutter.

With your upper lip stiff and your posture unbelievably straight, you answered without equivocation. “A common misinformed perspective of any conflict follows the belief that there is any one party entirely responsible for the consequences of violent confrontation, such as the one we witnessed in Johannesburg,” you were saying. With the way her wide eyes were pinned on the television screen, Wanda didn’t notice the way her brother eyed her obviously piqued interest.

“I don’t believe the Avengers are the world’s most honourable superheroes,” you continued. Ultron shifted and Wanda’s head tipped to the side, her interest in you ever growing. “I don’t think anyone is, no matter whose side you’ve taken since the conflict recently — and perhaps even after the invasion of New York’s in 2012.”

That was The Incident, Wanda recalled, when the Avengers terrorised New York. That’s what HYDRA had always told her and Pietro.

“Despite whose side you may be on, as differing as our collective opinions may be, one thing is undeniable — we are all trying to reach a goal of peace for the world, fighting for what we believe is just. There is nothing more powerful than that. Perhaps, it is idealism that serves to be the strength of humanity.”

Ultron laughed morosely. He ridiculed your words, but Wanda wasn’t listening. Whatever you were talking about wasn’t only about Johannesburg. What were you referencing? Who were your words meant for?

Suddenly, your head turned to the camera and Wanda met your eyes. Everything in her froze, her eyes undeviating from your face.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” you spoke. Pietro looked over at Wanda, shock written on every inch of his face, and Ultron’s eyes darted between the twins, almost accusationally as he undoubtedly suspected coercion. Wanda almost expected you to step through the television screen and into her bedroom. “I know what you want.”

The screen was shut off suddenly, the black mirror of the television reflecting Wanda’s astonished expression. She looked away, shutting her eyes as she felt the burning gaze of Ultron on her. But your words reverberated in Wanda’s mind until your every feature and movement of your lips was memorised. Like a promise, like an ode, your words were immortalised within her.

Pietro wasn’t there when you took Wanda in your arms and saved her from a falling Sokovia. He wasn’t there when you laid her down onto the Helicarrier, nor when you took her hand and told her she’d be taken care of. Wanda cried into your chest at the sight of her brother’s body.

What would he have said if he saw the way your arm refused to leave from around Wanda’s shoulders as the two of them trailed behind his body while he was carried into the compound?

Pietro liked you, and would’ve loved to meet you. He referenced your broadcasted interview several times during their fight in Sokovia. He was proud to work with the Avengers, and proud to finally work towards their goal to help people just like them. He wanted to meet you.

Your voice was different from what Wanda remembered from the broadcast, and not because her memory had failed her, but because you were just… different. You were real, and not a picture on a wall or an untouchable reality forever separated from her by a television screen. As she watched you talk and laugh with the other Avengers, you were real.

But if Wanda was honest, she was much too shy to even start a conversation with you. Perhaps it might’ve been easier to approach you if you were an admired character on one of her favourite television shows, but it was exactly what made her admire you so much that also made her feel so shy around you. 

Granted, there was much to adjust to now that she lived in America and was now a part of the Avengers, and she did believe herself to be a generally introverted person, but she was especially nervous around you.

Wanda had gotten enough confidence to speak with some team members. Natasha was welcoming and kind. Thor was easy not to feel nervous around, but his energy was far too much for Wanda to handle just yet. Bruce was much more comfortable to chat with, and Wanda found that he was able to be rather nice once he forgave her for her associations with Ultron. Steve was always very kind to Wanda and she felt very safe around him, with Steve always trying to make her feel like part of the team, but she found that they didn’t have very much in common.

And there was Vision, who seemed to have taken a liking to her since even before the final battle against Ultron. He was nice company, but she found her mind preoccupied thinking of you while in his company, wishing that it was you who gave her as much attention as Vision did.

However, she’d been wanting to start a conversation with you since the day she arrived at the compound. Initially, she needed time to herself, and along with Steve, you also made the effort to check in on her and give her your support.

Once she was finally able to gain some footing in adjusting to things while shouldering the weight of her losses, Wanda started becoming more active within the team by joining training sessions. During them, she found herself unable to stop looking at you, watching what you were doing, seeing how you interacted with everyone.

Even as the Avengers’ primary strategist that was almost never in the field, you still made efforts to train and stay connected and involved with the team — and Wanda quickly learned that training was a major part of team building.

You were everything Wanda wished she could be more like; you were the kind of person she had never thought existed in a world she believed was only full of cruelty and injustice until recently.

There was an upcoming party at the Avengers Tower in celebration of the assigned team’s return from a successful mission tracking down a recently-located HYDRA base still hiding out. It was almost any ordinary mission, but it was the first step towards steadily eradicating all of HYDRA’s bases, even after Strucker’s primary base was taken down in Sokovia. Though Steve did also tell Wanda that he felt that Tony also primarily wanted to find any reason to celebrate since it’d been some time.

Wanda hadn’t been to any of the parties yet, and she thought that she’d be able to use this one as a chance to start a conversation with you. 

Wasn’t that what people did at parties? Talk?

Truthfully, she didn’t quite know for sure — she’d only ever heard about them through the sitcoms she watched as a child. She knew only of dramatised American portrayals of teenage parties through television.

Whatever it was people actually did at parties, Wanda was certain she would be able to make some effort to talk to you. At least in a social setting, it wouldn’t be strange for her to start a conversation with you.

Wanda made herself look nice and presentable, but not too formal since she didn’t want to overdress or bring too much attention to herself. She wasn’t sure what might happen if her plan to talk with you didn’t end up working, and if she was somehow left with nothing to do, she wanted to be able to slip away without anyone noticing, as if she had never made any attempt to come at all.

While deliberating whether it was better to arrive on time or a bit later once the party had been going on for some time, Wanda realised that at some point too much time had passed and her only option now was to join the party a bit later. 

It was only once she arrived at the penthouse floor where the party was being held that Wanda finally realised how terribly  thought-out her plan was.

What would happen if she didn’t get to talk with you? What would happen if she did, and she only made a fool of herself? Would it be better, then, to stay as two people who’d never conversed so that she might retain what impression you had of her now? Even if that meant she would never get to talk with you the way she wanted?

It was far too late now to change her mind if she wanted to, as she soon found herself walking further from the elevators and into the party. 

The party was rather filled; mostly, they were familiar faces, but it looked like many brought guests, and some guests had brought some of their own. It seemed that Steve was right — atop of celebrating the taking down of the HYDRA base, this was also a social get-together. 

She was still relatively at the edges of the room, so she was still going unnoticed. As she walked over to the bar, fidgeting with her fingers as she did, she took the time to look around and try to spot you. She reached the bar, crossing her forearms on top of its counter, and tried to draw the least attention to herself while avoiding eye contact with anyone as her eyes raked through the crowd. 

Eventually she caught sight of you also at the bar, but at the very edge with your own drink, your back facing the party. Wanda’s chest fluttered and she felt she nearly stumbled moving one foot in front of the other when she turned to walk towards you. 

She worried what would happen if someone suddenly approached you from behind, which would force her to then stop wherever she was standing and pretend she hadn’t just failed at her attempt to come up to you. 

The pressing concern aided her greatly, and she was well on her way to coming up to you without hesitation. But once she actually made her way to your side and once you raised your head from your glass and looked at her, Wanda damned herself for being so distracted, now without a plan or even a terribly-planned script to follow in making conversation with you. She didn’t even get to look at what you were wearing. 

It would be too strange of her to look you up and down before greeting you, right?

“Hi,” she said, hoping that the small smile she felt on her face was actually there lest she look like an absolute fool.

You turned around in your seat in order to face her, and now having your complete, undivided attention made Wanda’s legs feel like mush. “Hi,” you replied with a friendly smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a party yet.”

Wanda swallowed and nervously drew shapes against the bar counter with her fingernails, also trying her best to maintain a steady, friendly smile. ��No — this is the first I’ve gone to. I haven’t been here for very long. I decided only a moment ago to come.”

“I’m glad you chose to come,” you told her and suggested for her to take the barstool beside you. Wanda lifted herself onto the seat and sat, facing you.

While you were talking, Wanda took the chance to look at what you were wearing. You looked nice, and Wanda thought you always dressed in a way that put-together, respected people did. She saw you in some likeness to the well-dressed characters on the sitcoms she liked — but, of course, modern. 

Maybe she had been taking too long to respond, for you spoke again: “How have you been doing? I know that the move must have been rather hard to go through.”

When she took a moment to respond and found that a response wasn’t immediately escaping her, Wanda felt panic settle in her chest. She knew she should have planned out what to say. She looked like an idiot in front of you. She didn’t know the first thing about socialising or making friends. 

“It was hard,” she said finally. “It is hard. Not so bad now. I mean, I’m trying to adjust.”

You nodded in understanding and Wanda felt herself losing your interest; she was sure that your responses’ intentions were now only to remain polite, to keep conversing with her because you knew she didn’t make very much effort to go out. 

Then you asked, “Did you want me to order you a drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay — I don’t drink,” Wanda answered, fidgeting with her fingers between her knees. Truthfully, she’s never tried alcohol before. Maybe she should have taken you up on your offer. 

“How have you been getting along with the team?”

“I think well. I like everyone. They’ve been very kind to me,” Wanda said. She could hear herself as she spoke to you; she sounded robotic and uninteresting. She thought she might try her hand at being honest about what she was thinking then and there. “But Pietro was always the most social of us both. It is hard to get along with others without him leading the conversation.”

Wanda must have not noticed how solemn she became after she mentioned Pietro, for you reached out and brushed her shoulder with your hand supportively, your fingers squeezing gently around her and lingering for a moment before letting your arm drop.

“I understand,” you sympathised. “You don’t need to pressure yourself into anything — really. I think you fit in here well, and I think you’ve been doing a wonderful job.”

That was the first time anyone truly supported Wanda like that; she was supported by the team as she was grieving the loss of her brother, always being told that she had a shoulder to cry on or a helping hand if she ever wanted someone to talk to. 

There was something frustrating about the way the team approached her grief. They had to have anticipated that she would feel a bit better at some point — or at least well enough to get back to team member material. 

In the way she was spoken to, Pietro and her struggles with his death were always approached as something she would get over at some point or another — like Pietro was something she was going to get over. She didn’t expect anyone to understand how she felt nor to share in her grievances, but it seemed to her that what she was going through was seen only as a temporary distraction to the rest of the team. 

They were kind in giving her their support, but her grief never seemed quite real enough to them. 

Granted, she was rather new to the team, so she understood, to some degree, their inability to understand her pain. But it was frustrating, nevertheless. 

But with you, it was different. 

You didn’t talk about Pietro or her struggles and pain like it was something to get over. You valued her as she was now, and saw her efforts as they were now. 

Wanda felt slightly pathetic for how worked up she was getting over your response, be it as brief as it was, but what you said meant quite a lot to her. She felt, for the first time, that she was being spoken to as a real person rather than a ball of temporary grief and pain. 

“Thank you… I really appreciate–”

She was cut off when you were called to meet one of Tony’s friends, an expert in software development who had even helped program some of the software you used for communication with the team while they were working on the field. Naturally, they wanted the two of you to meet. 

For a moment, Wanda forgot how popular you were amongst your colleagues. Why wouldn’t you be? It was only that you had a certain kindness and authenticity about you that seemed signature to you. But if Wanda admired that about you, and if she idolised you, why wouldn’t anyone else?

You looked at Tony calling you over then at Wanda, who was awkwardly staring at the floor in some pitiful stance of defeat. It made your chest tighten.

This was Wanda’s first time joining in at one of the parties, and you were the first she spoke to. Moreover, there was a kind of sensitivity to her that you knew lay beyond her typical timidity.

Through the conversation with her, you could vaguely see Wanda’s eyes flickering behind your shoulder occasionally, where the floor’s balcony was. From there, one would have a view of the spacious training fields and the expansive forests beyond that separated the base from the main roads.

Tonight, there were clear skies and a rather prominent moon. 

Gently, you tapped the back of Wanda’s hand that was resting on the edge of the bar to get her attention, and she raised her head and met your eyes. 

“Would you like to step out onto the balcony with me?” you asked. “I’m not quite in the mood to talk with them right now.”

Wanda seemed to perk up and she straightened in her seat. She nodded, and when you stepped off from your barstool, she followed and trailed behind you as you headed for the balcony. 

She watched from behind as you led her forward. She played idly with the tips of her fingers as she watched your hair brush against your back, watching the back of your head attentively as if it could tell her anything about you. 

Frankly, she felt a bit starstruck.

A certain panic settled within her as you opened the balcony door and ushered Wanda outside and into the warm evening air; she didn’t know what to say now. 

She wasn’t certain if she was interesting enough at all to have such intimate conversation with. 

What could she say that could possibly be of interest to you?

In spite of the disappointed chatter and lighthearted jabs from the rest of the team in response to your very-obvious aversion to socialising, you closed the balcony door behind you until it clicked shut softly until it was only you and Wanda outside. 

“Is it okay that you’re out here with me?” Wanda asked, looking at you as she stepped beside you. 

“Of course,” you answered and walked forward until you could stand against the rails of the balcony. “Why not?”

Wanda appreciated how easy it was to talk with you, and how your relationship with the team wasn’t all that you were. “I thought that maybe you might prefer being out there.”

“No — I want to be here.”

Wanda flushed and she looked away, using the excuse of looking out past the training fields as an excuse to hide her face from you. 

Making a bold move, Wanda thought that she might be honest with you; she had the real opportunity to make a friend, granted she pulled it off. “Y/N, I really appreciate you being so kind to me.” She garnered some confidence and turned her body and looked at you.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you replied bashfully, and Wanda noticed that you also seemed a bit timid. She thought you were sensitive, and she liked that.

“But also,” Wanda added, taking in a small breath, “I really appreciate your effort in being sympathetic towards Pietro and I, even when we did not deserve it — especially after Johannesburg. Before your interview broadcast, I had never known of such kindness. It seemed you knew more about what Pietro and I wanted before even we did.”

Without a thought behind it, Wanda’s eyes left yours and she added, “I wish he was able to meet you. I am sure he would have felt equally as stunned by you.”

You asked, “I stun you now, do I?”

Surprised by the realisation of what she said aloud, Wanda looked at you and at the sight of your slight smile, also realised that you were teasing her. She flushed and rubbed her warm cheek with the back of her knuckle and distracted herself with two of the party guests walking through the field.

Wanda reminded herself that she came to make a friend — to be friends with you. So she spoke again. “To be honest, yes,” she replied. “I think you are admirable; everyone seems to like you very much, and the kind of bravery and kindness you have is of a kind I did not previously know could ever be sincere.”

She finally said it, and now, Wanda felt anxious about what you might say next.

You shifted and repositioned yourself as you pondered for a moment in consideration. “Well, I have to confess that most if not all of my bravery is rather insincere — I’m truly not as brave as you might think. In fact, I would argue that you’re more brave than I; you’ve experienced so much, undergone so much change, and yet you seem to have more drive than anyone to try your hardest at adjusting and getting back on your feet.” 

You thought she was braver than you? Wanda could collapse. She felt her chest flutter.

“But… the kindness,” you said, “is very sincere. I’m glad you see it that way.”

Wanda found herself stepping closer to you, feeling more comfortable in your company and feeling that she wanted to be closer to you physically, to hear your words within a closer vicinity and to see your face free of the soft shadows that the moonlight casted along the curve of your nose and the angle of your cheekbone. 

“I think you’re really special,” you told her. “I’m happy that you’re a part of the team. I’m glad you’re here.”

In all her life, there was only one place Wanda ever felt she belonged — with her family. Over some time, what this meant was redefined with the bombing of her home when she was ten and, recently, with the loss of her brother. There was a feeling of loss, an empty pit that burrowed itself within the deepest depths of Wanda’s identity where Pietro and her family and some sort of identity should have been.

It was not only others and her country that she lost, but a part of herself, when all the landmarks she had ever belonged to were stolen from her. But if she could learn anything from still being able to stand where she was and try her best and be brave — like you said — in spite of all her loss and grief, it was that she was not all that she identified herself with.

She still existed, and was still worth something, even without all that was lost.

It would be difficult to even begin finding who she was, exactly, without Pietro and Sokovia and her parents and the truths of herself and the world that HYDRA had always taught her. But she hoped that you might be at least the first step to her self-discovery — you were her first friend.

“Are you alright?” you asked, tipping your head down slightly to try getting a better look at Wanda’s face. 

Wanda had lost herself in her thoughts and forgot to reply to you. She must have been silent for a bit of time. “Yes, I’m okay.” She subtly swiped at her cheeks when she realised she was crying — perhaps it was from thinking of her family or of Sokovia, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the moment was that she started crying — as she looked over at the field for a distraction again.

Without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Wanda’s shoulders, bringing her against your body in a soft hug. It was wordless and quiet and casual — support and comfort without any conditions.

Every time Wanda believed that she’d fully grasped the world’s capacity for kindness, believed that there couldn't possibly be something more gentle than what you have thus far shown her, you prove her wrong. 

She hoped she would never be right.

[malum-forev]

Unexpected

“I can’t believe people actually fall for these kinds of things,” Bucky scoffs, flicking one of the drooping petals on the flower arrangement. “Ridiculous, right?”

He looks over at Sam, wanting some kind of backup from his partner, only to receive a shrug in response. Bucky rolls his eyes, having flowers delivered to the compound seemed so overplayed in his mind.

“No self respecting woman could actually want to date someone who outsources something like giving flowers.” Bucky mutters, his fingers itch to look at the card to see who they’re from. And more importantly, who they’re for.

“Can’t say I agree with you on this one Buck,” Sam leans back on the conference room chair, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. “Flower delivery is a normal thing in the modern world, not that I expected you to know. You’re not exactly the romantic type.”

He tries to not let Sam’s comment bug him, but it does. A lot. Back when he was alive the first time, Bucky was over the top. So over the top that some women’s knees physically buckled when they saw his gifts and acts of love. Sure, some of the things he only did to get into their pants but who cares, they were romantic nonetheless. 

Bucky tries to concentrate on your detailed plan for the mission but he’s done this a thousand times and could quite possibly complete this recon mission in his sleep and more importantly, the flower debacle is still present. The plastic vase sitting in the middle of the conference table taunts him. The folded card underneath it was basically begging for him to take a look.

He lingers after the meeting, saying some excuse about wanting to look over the documents when really, his curiosity is what’s keeping him seated. 

In his defense, your floor of the compound rarely gets any deliveries, let alone “romantic” ones. At least what people now think is romantic. Apart from Sam, himself and you, the other people on the floor are either married or forever alone. Leave the cheesy displays of affection for the lower level agents, the ones who still get the hots from one look.

Bucky looks both ways, making sure no one catches him as he slips the card from under the vase and reads it. 

Thought of you today. Have a nice week. 

“Nice week? What a loser.” Bucky blows raspberries, throwing the card back on the table. 

“Can I help you with something, Barnes?” Bucky jumps up in his spot as he hears your voice coming from behind him. 

“Just reading this extensive report,” Bucky lifts up the corners of the papers. “Great to know you have so much spare time.”

To say you and Bucky have a complicated relationship is an understatement. You think he’s a reckless agent that gets away with everything just because he was Captain America’s friend and he thinks that you aren’t reliable on the field because you second guess everything. Match made in heaven, right? Not a single mission you’ve been on has resulted in the two of you being civil. It always ends with a catfight and both of you trying to one up the other one.

“I don’t have time for this. Right now all I want is to go home and get some rest before we have to leave in a couple of days.” You roll your eyes, picking up some of the extra copies for the other agents you’re taking on the mission before grabbing the flowers from the table. 

“Are those yours?” Bucky’s voice pitches up, like he can’t seriously believe someone sent you flowers. 

“This is exactly what I don’t have time for.” You huff, leaving him behind in the conference room, wishing he’d just drop it. But knowing Barnes, and hearing his combat boots smack on the floor behind you, he won’t stop. 

“Who is he?” He raises his eyebrows, walking next to you, covering the elevator buttons with his hands so you can’t press either button. 

“Barnes,” You warn. “I’d rather not spend any more time with you than what’s required for my job.”

“Me neither,” Bucky nods. “So, if you can just tell me who sent you the flowers we can go on our way and not talk until we absolutely have to.”

“Does it matter who they’re from?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course it matters, I’ve never known you to like someone enough to give them your work address. I’ve never known you to like someone, period. So, yes, it matters.”

“Why would I tell you?” You quickly press the arrow pointing upwards as Bucky gets distracted with his dig at your non-existent love life. “So you can go and tell him what a big mistake he’s making?”

“That, and maybe I just want to know if he’s a real life breathing man.” He shrugs as you get in the elevator. “With eyes and ears and all those things one would need to know you really.”

“Great, thanks for the motivational talk I so didn’t need.” You flip him off as the doors close. 

-o-

Your head bounces against the side of the plane as you go through some turbulence but you try not to let it disturb you. But it’s something else that wakes you up, or rather, someone else. 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that he works somewhere in the compound.” Bucky drops his body in the seat next to you, his loud voice making your eyes snap open. 

“I’m resting before the mission,” You narrow your eyes at him. “And having you talk to me is messing that up.”

“You’re not disagreeing.” Bucky hums. 

“The only reason I haven’t flipped you over and dislocated your shoulder is because you have somehow gotten on Sam’s good side and I don’t want him giving me his disapproving father look.”

“Just tell me.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes are looking straight into yours. 

“Tell you what?” You throw your head back with a groan. 

“Who the flowers are from.”

“You’re still on that?” You quirk one eyebrow.

“You never answered it.”

The questions seemed to have died down once you closed your eyes again but Bucky popped up whenever you expected him least.

You rummage through the office of the suspect that had just been killed. A doctor that was once Hydra had been trying to replicate the super soldier serum, the animal testing had been positive and a couple of dog sized rats still lived in his office. 

“Can you tell me what area he’s in?” Bucky leans on the doorframe and the sudden sound has you bringing your gun to his forehead. 

“I could have killed you just now,” You heave. “And I wish I would have, I think death is the only thing that’s going to stop you from asking all these questions.”

“You could just answer.” Bucky shrugs, looking both ways, making sure no one’s around.

“Why do you want to know?” You huff. 

“I want to know who’s romancing you.” Bucky acts like he doesn’t care, but the truth is that he’s spent the last few days with you and only you on his mind. 

The thought of you dating someone that does the bare minimum makes him frown. He’s never given a second thought to your dating life but if he had to rack his brain, Bucky would assume that you would date someone who’s competent enough to handle your wit and your moods, someone who gets your strength and doesn’t try to undermine you, someone who can handle the emotional baggage that comes with this job and doesn’t judge you. Someone who will hand deliver flowers to your apartment to show you he likes you, instead of having them delivered so that everyone thinks he likes you.

“Why do you care about my love life all of a sudden?” You snap at him and it actually stops him in his tracks. 

Bucky stares back at you with half a breath sucking in his lungs.

Love. 

You actually said the word love. 

Nothing’s ever happened between you two (except for that night the two of you spent cuddling together after neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor, but you swore you’d never speak of it again), but you’ve been a constant in Bucky’s life for years. And he doesn’t deal with change very easily. 

If you’re so freely talking about having a love life, as opposed to what? a like life? Get yourself together Barnes! he scolds himself, that means that soon enough you’ll be bringing this mediocre boyfriend around the tower, which means he’ll have to practice his “I’m trying to act like I care what you’re telling me” smile in the mirror while he’s bumped into the guy while you’re still getting ready because lord knows you love to take your sweet time getting ready! And that means that he’ll have to get a tux for your wedding because who would be stupid enough to not marry someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, and that means that you’ll take a leave for your honeymoon but knowing you, work will follow you to said honeymoon. You never stop working and Bucky’s warned you about your body taking a toll after all those years. 

“You’re one to talk.” He remembers you rolling your eyes at him the time he said it. 

God, your eyes. He’s going to miss your eyes. In the morning, you’ll look at him from over your boiling hot coffee cup. Bucky knows that you like to drink your coffee before the sun goes up because, in your words, I want to have at least a couple of minutes to myself before the world needs me. He’d never admit it to anyone but he sometimes acts like he’s had nightmares keeping him up at night just so he can share those quiet moments with you.

And after the tsunami of memories he won’t share with you anymore subsides, another wave comes crashing in. Soon you’ll be retiring, Bucky’s seen you with Morgan. It’s clear you want kids of your own some day. And you sure as hell won’t be having them when someone like Bucky Barnes is your partner. Bucky knows he’s a risk, he wouldn’t judge you if you thought it too. 

“Okay, we’re done here. I’m leaving, White Wolf hot on my heels.” You speak into the chip, making him snap out of his thoughts and return to Earth.

“As always, thanks for doing nothing, Barnes.” You laugh, slapping Bucky's shoulders as you pass him.

Bucky’s lungs burn as he runs alongside you down the corridor, trying to make up for all of the air he didn’t get as he spiraled. 

-o-

Bucky is up and it’s not because he heard the door hinges creak as you came inside or the slapping of your heels on the old wooden floor. It’s because he hasn’t been able to sleep since you left. 

He acted tired and fake yawned all the way to his room as you passed by, all maked-up and perfumed, when in reality he spent the rest of the night trying to decipher a video game someone recommended. 

Bucky’s verdict: I’ve been to war, I don’t need to play make believe. 

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds coming from the kitchen. You opened the fridge door and took a glass bottle of sorts out. From the cork popping, he figured out you were taking out your favorite wine. 

Bucky walks quietly towards the kitchen, not wanting to startle you. 

You gasp as you turn around, cork in your mouth and wine glass filled to the brim in your left hand. 

“I thought everyone would be asleep by now.” You spit the cork into the trash, lowering your face so your hair fans over your features. 

“Nightmares,” Bucky mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing at your unusual mannerisms. 

“Well, now you know who was out here.” You walk past him. “Goodnight Barnes.”

But before you can leave, Bucky holds your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You try to release from his grip but you know you’re no match for the vibranium arm. 

Bucky lifts up a trembling hand to your face and moves away your hair. Your normally bright eyes now look dull. Red blotching around your irises and black ink running down your face.

“You’ve been crying.” Bucky’s jaw tightens. 

“Thanks for that, Sergeant Obvious,” You scoff. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a living, breathing woman with feelings. I know they make you uncomfortable because you don’t have any but I do.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I’m a person and as much as I would like to be as robotic as you are, sometimes people do things that hurt me.” You roll your eyes. “Next time I have feelings, I’ll make sure to take care of them before I enter the tower so you won’t be bothered.”

“Why are you crying?” He hisses, shutting his eyes before he sees red. “Who made you cry? Tell me a name and I’ll have them killed before dawn.”

“What?”

“No one makes my girl cry.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to understand what Bucky just said. The man who’s constantly bothering you and making your life quite impossible is threatening to kill someone just because you shed a couple of tears?

Bucky runs his hands down his face. “We’re wasting precious time here baby, just give me a name and I’ll do the rest.”

“You don’t care,” You tell him but his expression doesn’t change. “You’re not supposed to care. Why do you?”

“The other day, when you told me about the flower idiot, I may have realized something.” Bucky lets out a deep breath. “You’re my partner on the field but you’re much more than that in here.”

Your hand shakes as Bucky takes it and presses your palm flat on his chest. 

“I’m thinking of you when I wake up, hoping I catch you before you get ready. You’re on my mind when we’re training because I want to teach you everything I know, and I want you to teach me how you twisted the agent’s arm and dislocated his knee at the same time. Most of the times when we’re out on missions I’m reckless because I want to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me, you’re what needs to be taken care of. At night I dream of you, and then I wake up feeling hollow.”

“You’re too good for me and I know that but that doesn’t mean that some jackass can take you out and then make you cry. If that’s the standard then I’m way above average, baby.” Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “And I know you don't want me because, who would? But-”

You slam your lips on his, stopping him completely. 

Both of you are starved for touch, wanting to explore every inch of the other. His hands roam your body as yours get tangled in his hair. 

Heavy breathing takes over the kitchen as you separate. 

“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” You rest your forehead on his. 

“Why did it take you so long to kiss me?”

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1@aorifukuzawa@sammyssm@alana4610. @mrsjobarnes@vicmc624@unkasworld@theroyalmanatee@almosttoopizza@cjand10@cremebruleequeen@buggy14@jasminocano.@isabel-ffl-xoxo@wintrsoldrluvr@kandis-mom@12345sebby@tittittoee @unaxv. @teambarnes72@angelicrexi@she-wolf09231982@wilsons-striped-ties@tmb510@capswife@pono-pura-vida@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes@tatianah26@drewsuncrustable@minmiin1d

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

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

Word Count: 5754

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

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

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

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

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

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

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

“Yeah? Girl got a name?” 

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

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

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

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

“Mom!”

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“What's that?” you asked.

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

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

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

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

“Never.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

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

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

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

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

You felt caught. “What?”

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

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

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

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

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No promises.”

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

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

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

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

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

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

“I know, I know.”

***

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

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

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

“Nothing. Empty field.”

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

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

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

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

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

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

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

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

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

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

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” 

“C’mere.” 

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

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

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

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

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

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

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

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

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

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

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

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, why?” she asked.

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

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

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Not right now.”

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

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

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

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

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

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

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

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

“Jo—” Dean tried.

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed.

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

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

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

how is wade gonna find out about logan and writer!reader???

Logan lit his cigar, grateful that your dog was better trained than Mary. Trigger might not like him very much but, there was still slack on the worn leather leash.

And he seemed content to let Logan do the morning walk, as long as the other man in your life didn't get any smart ass ideas about the pecking order. Fair enough, Logan reasoned. The dog was here first. And he'd been looking after you longer. "Hurry up, would, ya?" Logan grumbled. Trigger sneezed and proceeded to keep sniffing, looking for the perfect spot to take another leak and Logan rolled his eyes.

"The fuck are you doing?" Wade called, jogging across the street, drink carrier in his hand.

"The fuck does it look like?" Logan asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke, "didn't you have a date-"

"She had an early shift. Figured I'd bring not-so-virgin- Mary a coffee and try and get her to snitch out her baby daddy," Wade said. "Unless you wanna do it."

"If I tell you who it is you'll never believe it," Logan said.

"Try me," Wade challenged. "It's that fucking pervy mystery writer isn't it? God he's such a hack-"

"It's me," Logan snorted.

"Bullshit," Wade laughed. "You and I both know-"

"I fucked her raw on every flat surface in that apartment," Logan said taking a drag. "We broke her goddamn kitchen table. Do. The. Math." He took the drink carrier from Wade's hand and left him on the side walk, turning and walking upstairs with the dog in his hand, mentally bracing for the impact. Grunting softly. "Hold on a fucking minute. If we kill her dog she's gonna be upset."

Upstairs he set the coffee on the table and let the dog off-leash, "Be right back, Princess," he growled.

"Logan what-"

"Wade knows," He said, grunting as he ripped 'baby knife' out of his shoulder. "Gotta go let him try and kill me- get it out of his system."

"Logan!"

He leaned down and kissed you, smirking. "He's an idiot. But he's still a man. And I knocked up his baby sister... I'd probably be helpin' him kick someone else's shit in if they did you like I did."

"Men."

"We'll do it outside," he promised, kissing you again.

"Just don't fucking stab him in the head," you groan, reaching for your phone to call Vanessa and tell her the boys were about to catfight in the street.

"As long as he leaves my balls alone," Logan huffed. "Might take it a little personal if he goes there."

[fantasychickfights]

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit

Series Masterlist

(Authors Note: Yes I made the picture Dean’s hand purposefully because it turns me on. DEAL WITH IT LOL)

_______________________________________________

Y/N’s POV

We were all getting ready to leave the Roadhouse. Dean and Sam were by the trunk while I'm leant up against the side of the Impala, smoking a cigarette. "Los Angeles, California" Dean says to us as he closes Baby's trunk. "What's in LA?" Sam asks, walking next to me. "Young girls been kidnapped by an evil cult." Dean informs us with a serious tone. "Yeah?" Sam questions.

"Girl got a name?" Sam asks him as I lean off the impala, taking a drag before blowing it out the corner of my lips. "Katie Holmes" Dean responds with a smirk, jingling his keys to open the car door. His snark earns chuckles from both me and Sam, "That's funny" I admit laughing, flicking my cigarette on the ground before crushing it with my boot. "And for you, so bitchy" I add with sass, making Sam bust out in laughter.

A crashing of metal in the roadhouse draws our attention, our gazes snapped over to the door with raised eyebrows upon the sounds of Ellen and Jo yelling and cursing at each other. "Whereas on the other hand, catfight" Dean quips back, we all share a slightly amused look before walking towards the bar. "I am your mother! I don't have to be reasonable!" We hear Ellen's voice boom through the empty bar as we open the door.

"You can't keep me here!" Jo screams back. "Oh don't you bet on that, sweetie!" Ellen growls back, fixing a chair in the bar to open up. Damn, this sounds way too familiar. "What are you gonna do?! You gonna chain me up in the basement?!" Jo snarls back. The boys and I take in the argument as we walk in, "You know what, you've had worse ideas than that recently!" Ellen shouts back, getting in Jos face.

She flinched a bit before Ellen moves past her. "Hey, you don't wanna stay? Don't stay! Go back to school!" Ellen quips back. Jos face contorts in disgust, "I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a fucking knife collection!" She shouts back defensively. "Yeah, but getting yourself killed on some dusty backroad, that's where you belong?!" Ellen retorts back with sarcasm. Jos face drops when she notices the boys and I standing behind her mom.

Ellen turns to us, awkward smiles plastered on all our faces, our hands stuffed in our jacket pockets, "Guys, bad time" Ellen spits, trying to subside her anger. We all nods understandably, "Yes, ma'am" I nod firmly, "Sorry ma'am" Sam says at the same time as me. "Yeah, we rarely drink before 10 anyways" Dean chuckles nervous before we all turn to leave but Jo stops us.

"Wait, I wanna know what they think about this" Jo walks to us, the door squeaks and a family of four enters. Two kids and two parents, wearing T-Shirts with 'Nebraska is for Lovers' printed on them. "I don't care what they think!" Ellen shoots back. "Are you guys open?" The patriarch of the group asks awkwardly. "No!" "Yes!" Jo and Ellen yell angrily at the same time, scaring the shit out of the innocent family.

They all shift in their feet nervously, sharing a look of fear. The boys and I flash them apologetic looks, "We'll just check the Arby's down the road" The father says fearfully ushering his wife and kids out the door. We turn back to the angry and quarreling mother and daughter. As if on cue, the Roadhouse landline begins to ring.

Jo turns to her mother, still annoyed. They both share angry gazes before Ellen stomps towards the landline on the wall, answering it, "Harvelle's...Yeah, preacher" Ellen answers before Jo turns to us, a file in her hands. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." She begins to explain, handing me the file.

I look down at it, not taking it, "Take it, it won't bite" She says sarcastically. "No, but your mom might" I quipped back in a low tone. She rolls eyes before shoving it towards me again. I huff in response, giving her a unimpressed look snatching before the file from her. "This girl wasn't the first. Over the past 80 years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes" She explains as I flip through the research in the file.

By the looks of it, it was well in depth. Not only was it thorough, it was well organized. Dean leaned over my shoulder to take a look, "Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either looking for one very old serial killer or-" Jo further explains but Dean cuts her off, "Who put this together? Ash?" Dean asks curiously. "I did it myself" Jo responds with a small smile.

My eyebrows raises as I give her a look of impress, my eyes flicker over to the boys who look equally as shocked and impressed, "Damn girl, this is really organized, props" I chuckle with a compliment, balling up my fist to give her a bump. She smirks back proudly, returning my fist bump. "Thanks" She giggles. "I gotta admit, we hit the road for a lot less" Sam says honestly.

"Good. You like the case so much, you take it" Ellen butts in, done with her phone call. Jo's smile drops, "Mom!" Jo exclaims. "Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you too" Ellen cuts in firmly, tears welling up in her eyes. My heart pangs for Ellen, she didn't want her daughter hunting alone because she didn't want her to get hurt. Not because she wanted to control her, but because she loves her.

The boys and I share sad looks, "I just won't" Ellen adds tearfully. Jo sighs in defeat, nodding but something told me she wasn't gonna give up that easily. For someone who tracked a pattern like this, I'm getting the vibe she won't let this case go easily.

________________________________

Somewhere in Philadelphia

The boys and I finally made it to the apartment in Philly, Sam picked the lock and the second he opened that door, it was like a wave of unpleasant energy lashed over me. A sick feeling churned in my stomach as Sam powered up the EMF meter. "I feel kind of bad snaking Jo's case." Sam admits as Dean closes the door while a chill crawled up my neck.

"Yeah, me too" I sigh. "Well, she did put together a good file, but can you see her out here working one of these things?" Dean scoffs. This catches my attention, "What's that supposed to mean?" I huff. His eyes snap over to me, "I'm just saying, she's clearly inexperienced" Dean defends. "Yeah, and so were we. Or is it because of the fact that she's a woman?" I counter, resting my hands on my hips.

I hear Sam awkwardly clear his throat behind me, Dean looks over to his brother with a face that says 'Help me out here' but Sam shakes his head, "I ain't touching that line with a 10 foot pole" Sam snorts. "It's just different with you, princess" Dean tries to reason. I snort at this, "Oh don't hit me that bullshit. I think she has potential, that's all. With proper training, she could be good if she did all of that with just research" I defend.

"You haven't even seen her in action yet" Dean rolls his eyes. "I just have a feeling okay" I huff. Dean sighs in defeat as he powers on his EMF meter, "You guys getting anything?" He asks me and Sam, "No, not yet" Sam answers, scanning one side of the room. I felt the chill grow more intense when I turnt to the fridge behind me. "Yeah, I think it's a spirit" I answer.

"How're you so sure?" Dean asks. I point to the back of my neck, indicating I'm getting chills. Deans mouth formed in an 'o' shape in realization. I narrowed my eyes at the handle on the door, a black gooey liquid oozing out of it. "What's that?" I muttered, "What?" Dean and Sam said in unison, walking over to me. That still startles me to this day.

Brothers.

I touched the liquid, I instantly recognized it when I felt it. Ectoplasm. "Holy fuck" I whisper in shock. Sam and Dean then touched the ectoplasm and recognized it instantly. "That's ectoplasm" Dean points out. "Well, sweetheart, I guess you were wrong. It's not a spirit..." Dean whispers to me. Sam and I cock our eyebrows at him, confused because the only thing that can cause ectoplasm is a pissed off spirit.

"It's the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man" Dean jokes, earning eyerolls from us. "Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice." Sam ignores his sarcastic response, going back to the case. "I mean, to make this stuff, you have to be one majorly pissed-off spirit" I point out in agreement. "Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls" Dean says smugly.

-

Now walking down the hall out of the apartment, we hear a woman and a man talking. "It's so convenient" The woman says sweetly. The boys and I share a panicked look before backing up into a corner, pressing our backs against the wall to conceal ourselves. "Yeah. It's a great building, fixed it up real nice. Apartments come furnished too." The man responds. The woman's voice sounded familiar....way too familiar.

"It is so spacious. You know, my friend y/n told me that i absolutely had to come check it out" My eyebrows shot ti the sky when the woman said my name and it could only be one explanation. Jo. The boys and I share a look as the voices move closer. "And I have to admit she was right. You did a really good job with this place" Jo tells the man as she bends the corner.

We pry ourselves from the corner, "What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asks her in shock. "There you are, honey" Jo smirks, grabbing Dean by his arm. My chest begins to flare when she does this, my jaw clenching. I notice Dean gulp when she does this, his eyes flickering over to me. "This is my boyfriend, Dean. My friend Y/N, the one I was telling you about. And her boyfriend, Sam" Jo introduces us.

I cock my eyebrows further at this, before wrapping my arm around Sam and faking a smile. Sam did the same, wrapping his casted arm around my waist. "Good to meet you. Quite a gal you got here" The man reaches out to shake Deans hand as Jo smiles widely. Dean smiles tightly, accepting his hand. "Oh, yeah, she's a pistol" Dean fakes a chuckle, slapping Jo on her ass a bit harshly.

"And she's talked so much about you" The man reached over to shake my hand and then Sam's, "Well, how sweet" I smile, looking over at Jo giving her a look that says 'You slimy little...', before turning to Sam. "She's just a riot, isn't she honey?" I chuckle. Sam feigns a laugh like me, his hand traveling down to the small of my back. "Most certainly, babe" Sam smiles tightly,

He gripped my waist, pulling me in closer to him, the both of us faking an affectionate stare. I notice Dean narrow his eyes at both of us. His jaw clenching tightly like mine did earlier, his eyes trailed to Sam's hand on my back, nearing my ass and back up to us. "So, did you already check out the apartment?" Jo asks us. We don't answer because of her slip of tongue, a bit of panicking settling in.

Jo, I was just defending you earlier, you're making it a bit hard right now honey.

"The one for rent" She adds with a smile. "You bet. Yes. Loved it. Great flow." Dean chuckles. "How'd you get in?" The man asks confused. "It was open" I say quickly but the man still looked confused. "Now, Ed, um. When did the last tenant move out?" Jo asks. "Uh, about a month ago. Cut and run too. Stuffed me for the rent" Ed, the building manager, explains slightly annoyed. "Well, her loss, our gain" Jo smiles widely.

"Because if Deano loves it, it's good enough for me" She giggles. Deano? Really? I internally rolled my eyes. "Oh, sweetie" Dean grits his teeth, masking his clear anger and discomfort before slapping her ass again. "We'll take it" Jo feigns a smile before handing the manager a wad of cash. Our eyes widen, I couldn't help but be impressed as the man graciously accepts the money. "Oh...okay." The man smiles widely.

As the man walks away I feel Sam's casted arm drop directly in my ass and I don't think he noticed because knowing him, he'd groan in disgust by now. "Get your hand off my ass, Samuel!" I spit through gritted teeth. Sam is startled, "Oh, fuck. Sorry" He apologizes quickly, grinning sheepishly as Dean glares at him.

Why the fuck he he glaring?

________________________________

We were back in the apartment, Dean was cleaning his gun and Sam was by the dining room table cleaning his own gun. "I'll flip you for the sofa" Jo says to me as I was cleaning my gun next to Dean. "Oh no no no. 1. You're sharing with Sam. The bastard punches in his sleep." I begin snarkily, cocking my gun. "I do not!" Sam defends, I wave him off as Jo rolls her eyes at my snark.

"And 2. Does your mother even know you're here?" I stand up, getting to eye level with her, resting my hands on my hips. "Told her I was going to Vegas" Jo shrugs. "You think she's gonna but that?" Dean scoffs. "I'm not an idiots. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail straight all the way to the casinos" Jo smirks, I cross my arms over my chest. "And Ash did that pro-bono?" I ask her. "Nope, only cost me your phone number" Jo's smirk widens.

"You didn't" My jaw drops along with Deans as Sam snickers in the background. "I did" Jo laughs. I roll my eyes at this, clearly annoyed. "You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. You shouldn't be here either" Dean says annoyed, reloading and cocking his gun. She looks over to me and Sam a bit sad, "Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and panties and deal with it" She snarks back as me and Dean glare at her.

Now I know what you're saying, 'You were all gung ho for her learning to hunt earlier'. And I still am, I believe Jo is intelligent and has potential. But not when it involves pissing off Ellen, that woman scares me.

"Where did you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam asks curiously. "Working at the Roadhouse" Jo responds as if it's obvious. "Hunters don't tip that well" Dean scoffs. "Well, they aren't that good at poker either" Jo retorts back cockily, I snort at this. Shaking my head, "Respect" I put my fist out for her the bump, she smirks widely. Returning the fistbump. "Thanks" She smiles.

Sam's phones rings. He stands up and he fishes it out of his pocket, pressing it to his ear. "Yeah?" Sam answers as Jo goes through her duffle bag. Sam pauses for a bit before gulping, "Oh, hi Ellen" He says causally, glaring at Jo. Dean and I begin to internally panic as Jo walks closer to Sam. I propped myself on the dining table Sam was at, crossing arms over my chest. Taking in the interaction.

"Don't tell her" Jo whispers to him warningly, pointing a finger at him. "I'm telling her" Sam grits his teeth back, pressing the mic to his shirt so Ellen can't hear. "I'm gonna kill you!" Jo growls lowly. "You're not even supposed to be here!" Sam retorts lowly. The two get into a muttered argument before Sam caves and quickly says, "I haven't seen her" to Ellen.

"...yeah, I'm sure" Sam responds to Ellen, "Absolutely" Sam finishes before hanging up still glaring at Jo who gives him a cute wide cheeky thankful smile. Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance, scoffing a bit but I managed to catch the little blush on his cheeks.

________________________________

Third Person POV

Currently nose deep into research, Sam, Jo and Y/N were sat at the dining table. A map spread out of the building infront of them, Jo was flicking and playing with her knife while Dean paces the room, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse converted into apartments a few months ago" Jo explains the buildings history.

"Yeah, and what was here before 1924?" Dean asks. "Nothing. Empty field" Jo responds. "So most likely scenario..." Y/N begins, taking a drag from her cigarette. "...someone died Bloody in the building and now he's back and raising hell" She finishes, dusting the ash into an ashtray. "Yep" Sam nods in agreement, resting his paper down. "Already checked. In the past 82 years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped in a wet floor" Jo informs them.

Y/N's eyes flicker over to Dean who was still pacing the room, "Would you sit down please? Your pacing is making me dizzy" She huffs, a smirk rises on Deans face. He obliges, settling in the chair next to her before pulling it closer to y/n, he rests his hand behind her, propping it on the back of her chair. He then gestures for her to pass him the cigarette. She looks at him a bit surprised because, just like Sam. He usually only smokes when drunk or stressed.

Y/N passes him the bud, he takes it between his fingers and pulls from it. Allowing the nicotine and tobacco to course through his lungs, feeling a tad bit more relaxed. "So, have you checked police reports, county death records?" Dean begins to question her but Jo cuts him off. "Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing" Jo snaps back.

"Think the jury's still out in that one" Dean winks at her sassily. Y/N shakes her head, holding back a laugh at his sass along with Sam. Jo continues to twirl her knife in her between her fingers as Dean passes y/n back the bud, "Could you put the knife down? I feel like you're gonna take my eye out" She jokes with Jo.

Jo snorts, shaking her head but rests the knife down. "Okay, so, uh, it's something else, then" Sam begins. "Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it?" Y/N suggests, blowing the smoke out from the corner of her mouth. She passes the almost finished back to Dean. "We gotta scan the whole building, everywhere we can get to right?" Jo asks. "Right" Dean cuts in, crushing the finished bud in the tray as he exhaled the smoke through his nose.

"So, me and y/n will take the top two floors and you and Sam can take the rest" Dean instructs, getting up from the table. "We'd move fast if we split up" Jo counters. "Well, this isn't negotiable" Dean retorts. Jo rolls her eyes, but decided to oblige.

-

Dean and Y/N were canvassing the top two floors. Dean with his EMF meter in his hands, scanning the walls as they walk down the hall. "So, you gonna buy her dinner?" Y/N quips up, a bit of bitterness in her tone. Dean cocks his eyebrow, "What are you talking about?" He asks her confused. "Well, it's just if you're gonna smack the poor girls ass that much, it's only decent if you buy her dinner" She shrugs nonchalantly, trying to hide her jealous.

A smirk grows on Deans face, going back to when his brothers hand was on y/n's ass, "Oh, that's hilarious" He snaps back bitterly. "So, is Sam gonna buy you dinner? Seeing as he was so grabby with yours" He quips back in a clearly jealous tone, y/n's eyes snap over to Dean in disgust. "Dude, gross!" She groans, shoving him by his arm, earning a laugh from Dean as he stumbles.

"He didn't realize okay, that stupid cast in his hand is why. That's like going out with my brother" She defends, shivering in disgust at the thought as Dean howls with laughter. "Relax, Princess. I'm just kidding" He chuckles. "Not to be a gossip. But did you notice the way he blushed after he lied to Ellen when Jo gave him that smile?" Y/N gasped with a smile, looking over at Dean.

Dean snickers, nodding as he added to the gossip, "It was hilarious. Sammys got a crush" Dean agrees, laughing. "Too bad she's into the other brother" Y/N teased, trying to hide her bitter tone. "Yeah, right. She's a little too young for me, no thanks" Dean shakes his head. "Didn't seem so the way y'all were flirting back at the roadhouse" Y/N retorted with an eyeroll. Dean cocked his eyebrow at this.

"So you can flirt with her but I can't?" Dean countered with a smirk. Y/N's mouth snaps shut at this, "Touche, Winchester. Touché" She chuckled in defeat as Dean flashes her a victorious grin. "I still can't believe Jo ran. It's bad enough Sam lied to Ellen..." Dean shakes his head in disappointment. "I don't even think she's noticed she's the spirits type" Dean scoffs. "I'm pretty sure she has" Y/N responds.

"You think she wants to be bait?" Dean questions. "I wouldn't be surprised, if I were it's type, I'd jump at the case cuz it's the quickest way to draw it out, and you know it" Y/N shrugs as they walk down the hall. Dean chuckles ironically, annoyed at this. Walking past her, "What?" Y/N scoffs when she hears his tone. "I'm so regretting this" Dean mutters. "You know, I've had it up to here with your crap" Y/N snaps fed up.

Dean turns to her, surprised by her outburst, "Excuse me?" He scoffs. "Your chauvinist crap. You think women can't do the job" Y/N calls him out on his clear hypocrisy. "Baby, this ain't Gender Studies" He retorts cockily. "Women can do the job fine. I know you can, we've hunted together since diapers. Amateurs can't. Jo's got no experience" Dean repeats his words from earlier, earning an eye-roll from y/n.

"What she does have is a bunch of half baked romantic notions from that some barflies put in her head" Dean retorts. "Look. Dean, I get it. Dad and John started us in this so young, I wish we could do something else" She admits, Dean sighs, nodding in agreement. "You act like you love the job, but I know you don't" Y/N calls him out on the fact. "And how're you so sure?" Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

"Because you're twisted. We're all twisted" She chuckles dryly, earning one from Dean. "If I'm being honest, I'm kinda envious of the fact that Jo has a mother who worries and cares about her, who wants something more for her. And those are good things. Hell, I wouldn't throw it away if I were her. But if she wants to hunt, it's better she has people who can protect her" Y/N defends.

Dean is taken back by her concern for Jo, now realizing what this is all about. "You see yourself in her, don't you?" He calls her out on her relation to Jo. Y/N sighs, "Yeah, I do. And that's what scares me." She admits. "You and your soft heart will be the death of you" Dean smirks. Y/N huffs before smacking Dean in his arm, Dean chuckles as he clutches his arm. "Enough of this chick flick, let's go" She snorts, grabbing his arm to pull him down the hall.

-

A little later, they approach the end of the hall, y/n felt the chill rise in her neck again, she looked up to the ceiling into to see nothing. The spirit was stalking from an air vent below her, it began to protrude its ectoplasm coated arm. Causing y/n to jump fearfully when the chill grew stronger, flinching back, only to see the vent was clear.

"What?" Dean asks her concerned. "I'm not sure" Y/N gasps. Dean moves closer to her, taking a whiff of the air. "You smell that?" He asks her. "Yeah, what is that? It smells so familiar. A gas leak?" Y/N suggests. "No, something else.... I know it" Dean shakes his head. Y/N then crouches down to the vent, placing her hand on it. She gasps when the chill runs through her arm and down her body.

"Gimme your EMF meter" She gestures for Dean to hand her the meter. Dean passes it to her and it immediately lights up red when she places it over where she had her hand. She looks up at Dean with a smug smirk, "I swear, with you around. We don't need these things" Dean chuckles as Y/N hands him back the EMF meter. "It's inside the vent" Y/N points out, taking out her mini flashlight from her combat boots.

She powers it on and shines it inside but it seems to be empty. Dean reaches into his jacket and pulls out a screwdriver, he then begins to unscrew the bolts holding the vent cover into place before taking it out. Y/N then gets a little lower to get a better look, flashing the light inside the vent. She hands Dean back the flashlight when she spots something,

"Theres something in there, here" She tells him, she then reaches her arm into the vent as Dean rests his chin on her shoulder, shining the light for her inside. His firm chest pressed against her back, both their heart paces quickens as Deans hot breath fans her ear, she clears her throat. Trying to reach it, Dean knew exactly what he was doing and he was relishing in finding anyway to touch her.

Whether it be innocently or not, "Jackpot" Y/N groans when her hand lands on the fuzzy piece of hair. She pulls it out to reveal a clump of blonde hair with a piece of rotting human scalp attached to it. She groans in disgust along with Dean, "Somebody's keeping souvenirs" Dean says grimly as Y/N gags, pretending to throw it on to Dean. "Gross!" Dean exclaims, flinching as y/n laughs hysterically.

________________________________

The next morning, Y/N was fast asleep on the sofa in quite an awkward position. One hand behind her back and one hand below her stomach as she laid belly first, snoring ever so lightly. Sam and Dean had gone out for breakfast and coffee while Jo sat at the dining room table, playing with her knife. Y/N stirred in her sleep, beads of sweat running down her neck as she dreamed.

"Dean" Sam and Y/N sighed in relief, clutching their shoulders. Dean's heart dropped when he noticed a person behind his brother. "SAM LOOK OUT!" Dean shouts warningly when the person approached behind Sam and Y/N, wielding a knife.

Sam didn't have a chance to respond before he was stabbed in the back by a faceless person. Dean ran towards his brother in the field, "NOOOOOOO!!!" Dean screams painfully.

The person twisted the knife buried in his spinal cord before Sam fell to his knees, his face contorted with agony.

Y/N groans as she began to wake up, a pounding in her head. The sounds of police sirens waking her out of the horrid nightmare. Her eyes shoot open wide in terror. It was just a dream....right? But why would she dream about Sam dying? Gosh, their lives are so messed up she's dreaming about her best friend dying.

"Morning Princess" Jo quips up from the dining table, y/n's gaze narrows in Jo's direction. "Don't call me that" Y/N spits. "Jeez, sorry" Jo chuckles, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Where's Sam and Dean?" Y/N grunts, holding her head. Her mind stuck on that dream...at least she hoped it was a dream. "Went to get coffee" Jo responds, flicking her knife in her hand.

Y/N groans as she peels herself from the couch, a stricking pain coursing down her spine from the old couch. "My back" Y/N groans, getting up from the couch. "How'd you sleep on that big, soft bed?" Y/N mutters to Jo, limping as she held her back. "I didn't. I've just been going over everything" Jo mutters back, her eyes studying the research spread on the table.

"Why this case, Jo?" Y/N asks her knowingly. "What do you mean?" Jo responds, feigning confusion. Y/N crosses her arms over her chest before giving Jo a look that says, 'Bull-fucking-shit'. "You're the spirits type. I know you're not stupid. You wanna be bait, don't you?" Y/N says matter of factly as Jo looks down guilty. "Look, Y/N. You can say what you want. It's the only way to draw him out. "It's a bad idea, Jo" Y/N groans.

Jo doesn't answer as Y/N cocks her eyebrow before picking up her duffel bag, her eyes trained on Jo's flicking of her knife. She digs inside before pulling out one of her favorite knives, a bit bigger than Jo's but a hell of a lot sharper. She detaches the covering from it, flipping it in her hand so the blade is in her grip and with a smile, she hands it to Jo, "What's this for?" Jo asks confused.

"It'll work a lot better than that little pig-stickler you're twirling" Y/N winks at her sassily. Jo fell silent, handing y/n her knife, a sad look on her face. Y/N's heart drops when she sees an engraving on it with 'W.A.H'. She glances back over at Jo to see a somber look on her face, "William Anthony Harvelle" Jo says sadly. Y/N felt guilty now, understanding why Jo kept twirling her fathers knife in her hand.

She could sorta relate, she always had her fathers machete from that vamp hunt tucked away in her leather jacket. Whether they were on a ghost hunt or monster. She kept it on her person as a homage to her father. "I'm sorry hun. My mistake" Y/N apologizes sincerely to Jo, handing her back her knife. She takes it back, returning y/n's large knife to her.

Jo sighs, sorrow drenched in her face. "What do you-?" Jo goes to ask, taking a deep breath. "What do you remember about your dad. I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head" She asks curiously. Y/N freezes at the question, not sure how to answer. Her gaze was trained on her knife. "Come on. Tell me. It's only us girls here" Jo presses, adding a little laugh to the end.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the 'It's only us girls here' comment. Growing up around men, she didn't have much female friends due to moving state to state for every hunt. Though she wish she did, I mean, Dean was the one who had to rush to get pads for her the first time she had her period because F/N and John had disappeared for a month and left them at Bobby's. Everything she knew came from crappy school health class.

Y/N sighs, settling in a seat by the table across from Jo. "I was about 6. And uh, he took me and Sam shooting for the first time with John and Dean. You know? Bottles on the fence, that kind of thing. John had taken Dean when he was around that age too." She begins to explain, opening up to Jo. She smirked a bit at the memory. "I bulls-eyed every one of them" She said with a bit of pride.

Jo smiled a bit, "He gave me this smile, like...." Y/N sighs, her mind tracing back to her childhood. "I don't know." She shakes her head. "He must've been proud" Jo assures her gently. "But the best part was when Dean yelled, 'Way to go, Princess!' And ran up to me, he picked me up in the biggest bear hug any 10 year old could give and spun me around" Y/N smiles, her heart skipping a beat.

Jo noticed the lovestruck look on y/n's face when she talked about Dean. Jo may have a tiny crush on Dean but she was mature enough to understand that when two people are clearly in-love, you don't get in the way of that. In other words, she's a girls girl. She could only wish she would find something like that one day. In all honesty, Sam caught her eye this round and she wouldn’t mind climbing that tree.

"He must've been proud of you too" Jo smiles suggestively at Y/N. A blush takes over her face, "Yeah, I think he was..." Y/N sighs, shaking her head. "What about you dad?" Y/N asks, clearing her throat. "I was still in pigtails when my dad died" Jo begins sadly, "But I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like Steve McQueen or something." Jo smiles lightly at the memory.

"And he'd sweep me up on his arms and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again" Jo chuckles reminiscing, earning a small smile from Y/N. "And we were-...we were a family" Jo finishes, gloom in her tone. "I know you guys think I'm nuts for choosing to hunt, but you wanna know why I do?" Jo says to her.

Y/N nods for her to continue, "For him" Jo says firmly, this touches Y/N. Now understanding Jo a little more. A sense of relation at that. "It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me, what's wrong with that?" Jo asks ironically. "Nothing" Y/N says softly, a sense of recognition in her voice.

Jo sighed, the two remained silent as they shared a look. Feeling a bit more connected to each other, as friends that is. The door swung open and in came the boys. "Where's the coffee, fellas?" Y/N asks them. The boys realized from the tension in the room that the two girls were having a heart to heart. "There's cops outside. Another girl disappeared" Sam informs them.

________________________________

A little later. Sam and Jo were at the dining table while Dean went to find out about the girl who disappeared. Meanwhile Y/N was leant against the kitchen sink, sipping on a beer, her mind still on the dream she had earlier. Considering all the death visions she and Sam had, it had her worried. Since they shared the visions and Sam hadn't brought up anything yet about having a vision yet, she wanted to assume that maybe it's just a bad dream.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

Sure Y/N, because every time you say you're pArAnOiD, some shit always ends up happening.

It could be just a dream.

Yeah, not like you have been having death visions with Sammy boy for the past year.

Shut up inner voice!

Sam realized Y/N was deep in thought when he saw her eyebrows scrunched together whilst clutching her second beer in her hand. He decided to approach her, leaving Jo in the dining room. "You okay, y/n/n?" He asks his best friend concerned, his voice snapping her out of her train of thought. "Yeah...I'm fine" She clears her throat, resting her beer down in the counter.

Sam cocked his eyebrow at her, not convinced. He have her a knowing look, resulting in her sighing guiltily. "It's just-" She begins, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you have any visions today??" She asks warily. Sam lightly frowns before shaking his head, "No, I haven't. Why? Have you???" He asks. "It wasn't exactly the death visions we have. It was more a death dream, like what we used to get" Y/N explains.

Sam nods, listening. Leaning against the island across from her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, and what happened in it??" Sam asks. Y/N hesitates for a second, "You died" She blurted out. Sam's eyebrows shot to the sky, "You were stabbed in your back by someone, I couldn't even see the persons face. I could barely see where we were. I remember hearing Dean scream. The entire thing was blurry, like if I needed glasses to see properly." She further explains.

"But it doesn't make sense right? Because our visions are connected so it wouldn't make sense. Because you would've had it too" Y/N asks for reassurance. Sam nods, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Honestly, y/n. We've all been through a lot, so it wouldn't be a long shot if the stress of the hunt is making you worry." Sam assures her gently. She sighs, "You're right. Thanks Sammy" She gives him a small smile.

Leaning over to give her best friend a hug, Sam chuckled, "Anytime, y/n/n" He smiled, ruffling her hair when they pulled away. She snorted, slapping his hand away. Earning a laugh from Sam. His mind strayed to earlier when Jo introduced them as a couple to the building manager, "Honey?" He says in a questioning tone, snorting in disgust. His face contorted in a cringe. Reminding her of when she called him honey.

"Babe?" She snorted back in disgust, mimicking his expression. "I thought I was gonna lose my hand with the way Dean was looking at me, like he wanted to chop it off" Sam says suggestively, waving his casted arm. Jo's ears quirked up at this, "Yeah, me too. We should've just given them the bed last night" Jo quips up from the dining room teasingly whilst flicking her knife in her hand, wiggling her eyebrows at Y/N.

Y/N's heart quickens but she covered it up with an eyeroll, denying the fact. "I hate both of you" She groans, covering her face as she blushes while Sam and Jo snicker like children. The door swings open and in walks Dean, "Theresa Ellis, apartment 2F. Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn" Dean informs them as he walks in, locking the door behind him. The aura changed in the room from light to serious.

Jo puts down her knife before asking him, "And her apartment?" She asks. "Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm too" Dean tells her as he peels his jacket off, Sam and Y/N both take seats at the dining table, "Between that and that hair, I'd say this suckers coming from the walls" Sam suggests, standing up. "Yeah, but who is it? Buildings history is totally clean" Dean questions, stumped.

Jo's eyes land on an old picture printed out on the table with clutter of research, "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place" She mutters, picking the picture up. "What do you mean?" Y/N asks curiously. "Check this out" Jo then hands her the picture of an old empty field, in place where the building was. The boys peer over Y/N's shoulder to take a look at it.

"An empty field?" Dean questions, "It's where the building was built, take a look next door" She tells them. Y/N's eyes widen when she notices the bars on the windows, her eyes flickering back up to Jo. "Bars" Sam mutters. "We're next door to a prison?" Y/N says surprised, a tinge of proudness in her tone from how Jo picked up on that.

-

"Thanks, Ash" Jo thanks Ash over the phone after calling him to pull up any deep records they couldn't get on the old empty field the building was constructed on. "And if you breathe a word of this to my mom..." She threatens before ask quips up. "I know, I know. You'll pull my teeth out one by one" Ash muttered, rolling his eyes.

"That's right, I will. With pliers" She threatened again before shutting the phone close. Y/N snickered amused at her threat to Ash, sorta reminding her of her and Sam. "Okay, Moyamensing prison, built in 1853, torn down in 1963" Jo begins to explain the history of the building next door, waving the picture around.

"And get this, they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door" Jo smiles widely. "Well, then we need a list of the people who was executed there" Sam smirks. "Ash is already on it" Jo informs them.

-

Y/N was now sat at the table, on her laptop, scrolling through a long list of names. The boys were besides her, leaning down to get a proper look. Both her and Sam agape while Jo stood behind her. "A hundred fifty- seven names?" She gasps. "We gotta narrow that down" Dean shakes his head. "Yeah" Sam agrees. "Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs" Dean adds.

Y/N begins to scroll down the list, her eyes catching the attention of a certain name. She moved the computer mouse on it to highlight it. She knew she saw it somewhere, "Herman Webster Mudgett?" Y/N questions. Sams eyebrows quirk up at the name. "Yeah?" Jo questions. "I know that name from somewhere" Y/N mutters. It then clicks in Sams head, "Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?" Sam points out.

"Oh my fuck" Y/N gasps, "It was!" She adds. Dean rolls his eyes, "You gotta be kidding me" He groans. Dean then turns the laptop to him, sitting next to Y/N as Sam takes a seat on the table why Dean begins to look up if H.H. Holmes was executed in the lot.

-

After some time, Sam, Jo and Y/N printed out some pictures old of the H.H. Holmes crime scene while Dean stumbled on an old news article that confirms it. "Yup. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7th 1896" Dean confirms. Y/N and Sam shake their heads in disbelief, "H.H. Holmes himself? Can you believe it?" Y/N nudges Sam. "Come on, I mean, what are the odds?" Sam nods in agreement, still in disbelief.

"Who is this guy?" Jo questions. "The term 'Multi Murderer'. They coined it to describe Holmes" Dean explains from the title of the article. "He was Americas first serial killer before anybody knew what a serial killer was" He adds. "Yeah, he confessed to 27 murders. But some put the death toll a over a hundred" Sam chimes in. "And his victim flavor of choice: pretty, petite blondes." Y/N adds, while Jo grimaces.

"He, uh, used chloroform to kill them....." Y/N continues, realization hitting her. She nudges Dean who also realized something, "...which is what we smelled in the hallway last night" They say in unison. The two share a look before Dean continued to explain to Jo, "At his place, cops found human remains. Bone fragments and long locks of bloody blonde hair....Boy you sure know how to pick 'em" Dean mutters sarcastically to Jo.

"We just find the bones, salt them and burn them, right?" Jo asks a bit scared now. "Well, it's not that easy" Y/N shakes her head. Jo looks confused at this. "His body is buried in town...but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete" Sam explains having researched a lot about serial killers, along with y/n, from a young age. It was a shared interest they had.

"What? Why?" Jo gasps. "The story goes that uh, he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. Because, you know, it's what he used to do" Dean adds with a tight smile. Jo's eyebrows raise as her mouth falls agape. Something dawns on Y/N, "You know something? We might have an even bigger problems than that" Y/N says, picking up the picture of Holmes' murder castle while Jo's face drops. "How does this get bigger?" Jo scoffs, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

"Holmes' built an apartment building in Chicago. They called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, acid yard, quicklime pits" Y/N lists off, explaining giving Sam a knowing look. Sam begins to understand where she's getting at. "Right...and he built those secret chambers inside the walls. Where he'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd led starve to death" Sam adds.

The wheels in his head were spinning. "So you guys think Theresa could still be alive. She could be inside these walls." Jo finally gets where the two were coming from. Along with Dean, instantly going into Hunter mode. "We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl" Dean orders.

________________________________

Dean wielded the sledgehammer in his hands, breaking through the wooden wall with the help of Y/N, her crowbar crashing through the drywall behind. They coughed from the settling dust before Y/N fished her flashlight from her jacket pocket, shining it into the narrow hallway. Dean went in first, pressing his back sideways from how narrow the entrance was.

Y/N went in after, doing the same. Her phone rang, Metallica blurring through the empty hall. "Hello?" She answered pressing the phone to her ear. "We're almost done with the first floor but got nothing on the northwest wall" Sam informed her. "Okay, call us after you check the northeast wall" Y/N responded before flipping the phone shut. "Sam and Jo's almost done with the first floor" Y/N tells Dean.

"Hasn't found jacksquat either" She mutters getting frustrated as they trudged through the cobweb filled hallway. Dean groaned heavily when he reached the end of the hall which wasn't large enough to fit him. Y/N noticed the frustrated tone, "What is it?" She asked, "It's too narrow. I can't go any further" Dean told her, shining his own flashlight down the opening.

"Let me see" Y/N says. "What are you-?" Dean goes to question but Y/N pushed him back lightly against the wall, wiggling her frame through the small space between Dean, her breasts pressed to the bricked barrier, her back to Deans fronts. The second Y/N's ass grazed Deans jeans, his mouth fell agape. Clenching his jaw, "Oh fuck, should've cleaned the pipes" Dean held back his moan, but his words flowed out of his mouth unconsciously.

Heat built up in him, he tried to control his hormones. "What?" Y/N huffed, utterly confused. Deans eyes snapped open, embarrassed. "I just- I wish the pipes were clean" Dean lamely tries to cover it up, looking up towards the wall but his growing arousal pressed against her was hard to hide. Literally speaking. Her cheeks flushed when she felt his cock shift in his pants, a heat now rising in her.

Y/N's stomach flustered in pleasure, but she knew they had to stay focused on the mission. "Shut up. I can fit in there" She huffed. "You're not going in there by yourself" Dean huffed back. "You got a better idea?" Y/N countered sassily, purposefully pressing her ass further against his growing arousal. "You're not making this any easier, Princess" Dean whined, her eyebrows cocked at his tone.

A light smirk on her face, a glint of mischief in her eyes, she decided to tease him further. "It's just an ass, charming. Haven't you felt one before?" She mocked, a seductive chuckle leaving her throat. Dean narrowed his gaze at her antics. He was trying his damn hardest to calm down, and here she was pushing his buttons. One hand was gripping her left hip, pressing her firmly to him.

His other hand occupied by his flashlight. God knows if that flashlight wasn't in his hand, he'd find a way to touch her, with her consent of course. He couldn't help himself, the way she was pressed against him was driving him crazy.

"Make it quick" Dean growled, obliging on her shimming her way to the narrow route, using every ounce of dignity and respect he had for her, not to drag her out of there and have his way with her whilst Sam and Jo searched the bottom floor. She did just that, pulling out her phone. She called Deans, "Stay on the phone, I'll tell you what I see" She tells him. "Okay" Dean squeaked, still flushed from what just happened.

So was y/n, she was gripping by a thread right now to contain herself. She continued to flash her light, eventually ending up to the south wall. Using her crowbar, she sent it charging, bursting through the wall. Only for the light from the outside of the building to shine through. She groaned in defeat. "Where are you?" Dean asked over the phone after a minute and a half of silence.

"There's a dead end. I'm coming back" She sighed. Y/N move went back to where Dean was. They both shimmied through the hall and made their way back to the building itself.

-

Meanwhile, Sam and Jo found a similar narrow pathway to Y/N but this time, on the north side. Sam, was obviously too big to fit. "I can fit in there" Jo says. "Are you kidding me? No way in hell?" Sam shakes his head. "You wanna go in there yourself ginormo?" Jo retorts, earning an exasperated sigh from Sam. "Fine. Hurry up" Sam gave in as Jo shimmied into the narrow opening.

Now on the phone with Sam whilst she continued down the dark hall, ending up to a air duct. She finally made it to the north wall, "You still there, Jo?" Sam asked over the phone. "I'm by the north wall" Jo replies. Eventually, she stumbles on what looks like an air duct. "I'm heading down some kind of air duct" She tells Sam, holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder. "No, no, no, no. Stay up here" Sam instructs her, panicking a bit.

"Sam, we gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm okay" She assures him. Sam sighs, nodding as he looked at the map in his hands. "Alright, I'm heading to you" He says, making his way out of the tunnel. Jo grunts as she climbed into the air duct, finally hitting ground while Sam was in his way to break through the other side so he can go in with her. "Damn it" Jo huffed when she reached a opening even she was too big to fit into.

She shone her light onto the walls down the hall, her eyes widening in fear when she heard something like water began to seep through the cracks of the walls. She turned her light to the source, only to see ectoplasm running down the walls, the black thick and runny liquid drenching through the cracks. "Oh, God" Her voice cracked fearfully.

Sams ears quirked up at her tone through the phone, "What is it?" He stopped in his tracks, the phone sounds then went static. "Jo? Jo?" Sam calls out to her in panic. Jo's piercing scream echoed through the walls of the building. Sam bolted into action, running down the stairs.

-

Meanwhile, Dean and Y/N were finally out of the tunnel, "You..." Dean turns to Y/N, pointing his finger at her firmly, his eyes narrowed but still lust filled. She had a cocky smirk on her face, amused by Dean's flushed appearance though she was flushed herself. "...are one evil, evil woman" Dean scoffs as if he were mad at her teasing him in the tunnel, but honestly, it rocked his fucking boat.

He loved every second of it, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Winchester" Y/N feigns an innocent tone, putting on her puppy dog look through her doed eyes but Dean saw right through it. The way that 'Mr. Winchester' rolled off her tongue, had Dean going in a way he couldn't explain. He could only imagine how 'Mrs. Winchester' would sound coming off of it. Or his hips rolling against hers...her tongue on his....or on him...

Wait, what? Get your head in the game, dude! Dean thought to himself.

Before he could respond. Jo's piercing screaming through the building snapped them out of their heated gaze. Both sharing a look of terror before bolting into action.

-

They ran to the north side of the building, both bumping into Sam who was rushing down the hall. "Whoa!" Dean and Y/N exclaimed when they bumped into him, Sam was disheveled. "He's got Jo" Sam panicked. "What? How's that happen? We heard her scream" Dean asks panicked while Y/N's chest heaved with worry. "I wasn't with her. I left her alone. Damn it!" Sam exclaims, frustrated that he let her slip through his fingers.

"Okay, okay. Look. We'll find her" Y/N assures him as they follow him down the hall. "Where?!" Sam huffs. "Inside the walls" Dean adds, trying to calm his brother down. "We've been inside the walls all night. The other girls aren't there. She won't be either!" Sam growls, pushing the door to their room open. "Look, we just have to take a beat and think about this. Maybe we got Holmes' M.O wrong" Y/N suggests, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, well we better fucking think fast" Sam grumbles as he and y/n sift through the papers on the table. Sam's phone rings, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah" He answers. "You lied to me. She's there" Ellen's angry voice booms through his speaker. "Ellen" He gasps in panic, looking over at Dean and Y/N. Sams face was flushed with guilt.

"No. Ash told me everything" Ellen snaps. "He's a genius. But he folds like a cheap suit" She mumbles. "Now you put my damn daughter on the phone" Ellen orders him roughly. Dean gets up and snatches the phone from his brother, "She's gonna have to call you back. She's taking care of...feminine business" Dean lies terribly. "Yeah right. Where is she?" Ellen scoffs unconvinced.

They don't answer, Sam's heart pounding through his chest. "Where is she?!" Ellen yells. "Look, we'll get her back" Sam tries to say calmly. "Get her back? Back from what?" Ellen croaks, her stomach churning the way a mother's does whenever their child is in danger. "The spirit were hunting, it took her" Sam admits. "Oh my god" Ellen gasps, tears threatening to make way through her eyes.

"She'll be okay, I promise" Sam swears wholeheartedly. "You promise? That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester or a L/N." Ellen scoffs angrily. "What-?" Sam asks confused. "If anything happens to her.." Ellen goes to threaten but Sam cuts her off. "It won't. I won't let it. Ellen, I'm sorry. I really am" Sam sincerely apologizes.

"I'm taking the first flight out. I'll be there in a few hours" Ellen says quickly, hanging the phone up. Sam's heart drops, his head hung in shame. He turned to his brother and best friend, "Damn it!" Sam exclaims, tossing his phone on the table. Sympathetic looks on both Dean and Y/N's faces. "Don't beat yourself up, Sammy." Y/N says gently.

"Yeah, there's nothing you could have done" Dean assures his brother. He shakes his head in frustration, "Tell me you got something" Sam huffs, "Uh...maybe. Look" Y/N sighs, moving the papers to show them the blueprint. "If you look at the layout of the Holmes' Murder Castle. There's other torture chambers inside the walls, right?" Y/N begins. "Right" Sam and Dean respond in unison.

"But there's one we haven't considered yet, the one in his basement" She points out. "But this building doesn't have a basement" Sam and Dean say in unison again, startling her this time. "Okay, you two have gotta stop doing that. It gives me the heebie jeebies" She groans before going back to the subject of the conversation. "Okay, it doesn't have a basement. But I just noticed this" She begins, trailing her finger on a certain spot of the map.

Sams eyes widen when she does this, leaning in to get a better look of the map. "Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system. It hasn't been used for-" She further explains but Sam cuts her off. "Let's go!" He orders, grabbing his jacket and rushing out the door. Dean and Y/N share a look before shrugging and following behind him.

________________________________

Jo begins to come to, having been knocked unconscious when the spirit took her. She gasps when she realizes she's trapped in what seems to be a metal box. Shaking with fear, she reaches into her pocket where she had an extra mini flashlight. Turning it on, she shines the light around the tight space.

She then shined it above her, another gasp leaves her throat when she saw that ontop of the box were scratches.....human scratches. Jo runs her fingers over them, still shaking with fear. Emotions overtook her as she began to sob, as much as she wanted to be bait to catch this spirit. It terrified her at how real and intense everything has been.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she's doing this to be closer to her father. She recollected herself in a moment before flashing her light to the side. She noticed there was a little slit opening, she peeped out to see what looked like a chamber on the outside. A metal clanks from the area, scaring the shit out of her.

"Hello?" Jo called out through the slit, praying there was someone else there. Sobbing and gasping came from the other side of the room, through a slit similar to Jo's box, "Is anybody there?" A woman croaks, "Your names Theresa?" Jo asks her. "Yes" Theresa confirms, nodding as she cried. "This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you" Jo gulps, fear potent in her tone.

"Oh, God. He's out there. He's gonna kill us" The woman shakes with fear, tears drenching her face. "No, he won't. We're getting out" Jo tries to assure her, trying to stay positive. "My friends are looking for us. They'll fine us" Jo adds, knowing that Sam, Dean and Y/N are probably raising hell at this very moment to find her.

Footsteps trudge into the chamber, "Oh, God. He's here!!" Theresa squeals, shaking with fear again. "Shhh! Just be quiet" Jo shushes her, tears in her eyes also. Theresa does so as Jo pants, peeping through the hole. Suddenly, an arm reaches in and grabs Jo by her head. Jo screams as Holmes pulls out a chunk of her hair from her scalp. Crying from the pain.

________________________________

Meanwhile, the trio are back on ground above. Sam with a metal detector, scanning the ground for any hits on the sewer system while Dean and Y/N were equip with shovels. Sirens echoes through the streets and they canvassed the area. The metal detector started to beep, hope soared in their chests as they followed the beeping deport into an empty dirt lot. It went nuts over a certain spot in the middle of the lot.

"Here" Sam said, pointing to the ground. Dean places his duffel bag on the ground and they instantly began digging the ground. They hit metal after a minute and they all began to dust away at it with their hands, or hand in Sam's case since his cast was a bother. After dusting away the remainder of the dirt, they uncovered a large metal opening.

Dean and Y/N grabbed onto either sides, "Got it?" She asks him. "Yeah" Dean responds, both lifting open the metal cover, revealing what looked like a secret hidden bunker with some step ladders. Dean reached into the his duffel, grabbing three rock salt guns, handing one each to the two younger hunters. Y/N then turnt on her flashlight, shining it into the dark hole.

Dean went first, lowering himself and then climbing down. Sam followed in behind while Y/N entered last.

-

Meanwhile Jo was banging at the bottom of the box she was trapped in with her feet, grunting as she did so, trying to break free. She panted in defeat as she laid there, hope of getting out diminishing. Jo felt a preside begins her, a cold chill. She peeped through the little slit in the wall to see a bearded mouth,

"You're so pretty" Holmes' spirit moans, breathing heavily. "So beautiful" He sighs in pleasure. Jo felt like throwing up on spot, she narrows her hate filled eyes at him, "Go to hell!" She growls at him, Holmes' chuckles deeply before licking his lips. Jo turnt away from him, only to be greeted by the unpleasant feeling of his hand caressing her hair.

She groaned and gagged in disgust as Holmes moans, his hand drifting down to her neck, roaming her arm...before he could reach her bottom she swiftly wielding her fathers iron knife, stabbing the spirit in his arm. Holmes' screams in pain. "How do you like that?! Pure iron, you creepy-ass son of a bitch!" Jo screams with hate, mocking Holmes.

-

The trio grunted as they crawled through the wet, dark narrow tunnel. The only source of light being their flashlights.

-

Jo shook with fear, gripping her fathers iron knife as she panted. "Is he gone?" Theresa asks tearfully, equally as shaken. "I don't know. I-" Jo responds shakily, only to be interrupted by Holmes' dirty hand grabbing hers roughly. Jo screamed as Holmes tried to pry her knife away from her, he harshly placed his hand over her mouth, muffling her screams.

"Shh, shh." Holmes shushed her, moaning from the sick pleasure of gagging her. "Hey!" Sam's voice bellows through the chamber, catching Holmes off guard. Behind a gate to entire the chamber, was the trio. Sam cocks his gun at Holmes before blasting him with rocksalt. Repelling his spirit, causing him to disapparate. They then open the gate in a rush, "Jo?!" They all call out for her.

"I'm here!" Jos draws their attention to the box in the wall, sobbing. Using a crowbar, Sam begins to pry at the box metal box while Dean and Y/N look through other slits that seemed to be connected to boxes. Dean gagged when he saw a rotting corpse. Y/N's eyes widened when she looked into another box to see a very alive woman. Sam grunted, "Come on!" As he tried to pry the box open.

"We're gonna get you out of here, alright hun?" Y/N assures Theresa gently. "Dean! Y/N!" Sam called out to them, handing them each a crowbar. Dean and Y/N began to pry at Theresa box, "Hang on, Jo" Sam finally got her box open, lifting the side lid. "You alright?" Sam asks her, helping her out of the box. "Been better" Jo grunts ironically as she climbed out with Sam's help.

"Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back" Jo says as Dean and Y/N pry open Theresa's box. "Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet" Y/N says to her calmly. "What?" Jo huffs confused, her hair disheveled all over his face. "Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan? Now it's kind of the only one we got" Y/N says before looking back at Sam and Dean who was helping Theresa to her feet.

-

Jo sat in the middle of the chamber, shaking with fear. Patiently waiting for Holmes to show back up. Her heart began beating out of her chest when she felt the air get colder, a moaning groaning sound of the man behind her. Holmes slowly made his way up to her as Jo sat cross legged in the middle of the chamber.

"Now!" Y/N shouted, indicating for the boys to shoot on her command and Jo to duck out of the way. They were peering from the gate, all aiming for the tarps with salt they set up on the walls. The salt fell to the ground in a perfect circle around Holmes' spirit, trapping him. Holmes gasps, his eyes wide with fear as Jo quickly crawls out of the circle with Y/N, running to help her to her feet.

She helped her out of the gate, locking it behind them. Holmes screamed helplessly since the salt trapped him. "Scream all you want you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" Jo mocked him as Holmes screamed for mercy, they then locked the covering for the gate, leaving the ghost of a screaming serial killer trapped.

________________________________

They were all now back above ground, right by the metal trap door they entered from. "So, this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asks her jokingly. "Well, except for all the pee-your-pants-terror, yeah, sure" Jo responds with the same level of humor, earning chuckles from Sam and Y/N. "But that Theresa girls gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?" Jo adds.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is" Y/N agrees, nodding. Sam sighs, still filled with guilt, "I really am sorry, Jo" Sam apologizes sincerely. Jo cocks her eyebrow, "For what? It's not your fault the bastard nabbed me. You got him good with the rock salt though" Jo assured him with a shy smile, nudging him slightly. Y/N cocked her eyebrow at the interaction when she noticed a sheepish smile on Sam's face.

They're so into each other. Y/N snorted as she thought to herself.

"Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there? Or a storm washes the salt away?" Jo asks curiously. Y/N smirks, both her and Sam sharing a look. "Both very fine points, which is why we're waiting here" She winks at Jo, "For what?" Jo asks still confused. As if on cue, the beeping of a trunk starts up behind him.

They all turn around to see a cement truck backing up, Jo chuckles, looking back to Sam and Y/N, "For that" Sam smirks as Jo chuckles. Dean carefully backs the cement trunk right in place infront of the hole. Y/N couldn't help but notice how hot he looked behind that wheel, something about the way he focused, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Ho!" Sam shouts for Dean to stop, indicating he's safe. Dean put the truck in park as Sam and Y/N unhook the canal for the cement, lowering it right over the hole. "You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo snorts. "I'll give it back" Dean shrugs innocently. Jo rolls her eyes, chuckling, kinda impressed as Dean pulls the lever on the truck, allowing the cement to make its way down the canal and into the hole.

Sam and Y/N smile at the sight. "Well, that ought to keep him down there till hell freezes over" Y/N chuckles, nudging Jo. Who smiles in return, both sharing a laugh.

________________________________

Now leaving the state of Philadelphia, the car ride back in the Impala was filled with awkward silence, the tension in the air thicker than ever. You may be thinking it's because of Dean and Y/N's little session, but you're dead wrong.

In the front seat sat Ellen, with a very obvious pissed off expression plastered across her face. Sam, Y/N and Jo sat in the back seat. Jo's eyes were trained out the window on her side with her arms crossed over her chest, while Y/N stared at her hands on her own side. Scared by the tension. With Sam crunched together in the middle, in a slightly awkward position.

"Boy, you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Dean broke the silence, trying to joke to ease the situation but Ellen's face remained stoic, heaving with anger. Deans smile dropped, he puffed up his cheeks before thinking of something else. His eyes trailing to the radio deck, "How bout we listen to some music" He suggests before turning on the radio.

'You're as cold as ice!'

'Cold as Ice' by Foreigner began playing on the radio. Y/N physically facepalmed at the irony as Ellen reached over to turn off the radio. Jo's eyebrows raised as she looked over at Sam, the two share an amused look at this. "This is gonna be a long drive" Y/N mutters to herself.

________________________________

CE, Nebraska

They all burst through the doors of the roadhouse, Ellen dragging her daughter by her arm. "Ellen" Sam stops her, Ellen then turns to him. Anger prominent on her face, "This is my fault, okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there" Sam apologizes again, Jo gave him a small smile, grateful that he'd stand up for her. A small blush rising on her face.

"Yeah, I think her dad would be proud" Y/N adds gently, giving her newfound friend a small smile. "Don't you dare say that. Not you!" Ellen snaps at Y/N harshly, surprising all of them. "I need a moment with my daughter, alone" She adds firmly, the three nod sheepishly, ashamed before exiting the roadhouse.

As they all exit, Jo turns to her mom. "You're angry, I understand-" She begins but Ellen cuts her off. "Angry? Angry doesn't begin to touch it!" Ellen lectures. "Let's just think about this." Jo pleads, rushing her bag on the bar counter. "Everything's okay. I'm alive" She assures her mother. "Not after I'm through with you!" Ellen yells.

"Is this about me hunting or something else?" Jo snaps back. "You let them use you as bait!" Ellen counters. "They were right there. They were backing me up the whole time!" Jo defends her friends. "That is why you don't have the sense to do this job. You're trusting your life to them!" Ellen screams, pointing at the door angrily.

"What are you talking about?" Jo screams bavk confused as ever. "Like fathers, like children. That is what I'm talking about" Ellen's voice falters as tears well up in her eyes. Jo's heart drops at this, "John and F/N?" She asks her mother. "I thought you all were friends" Jo says, "Yeah, we all were. I'm sorry, I didn't-" Ellen tried to cover up her outburst, but Jo calls bullshit.

"Mom...What aren't you telling me?" Jo asks her mother again, her chest heaves with worry when Ellen turns to her with a guilt ridden face.

-

The trio were all outside by the Impala, waiting for the mother and daughter to finish their conversation. All worried when Jo opened the door to the roadhouse, leaving in a rush. She gave them once over before turning to go in the other direction. Sam noticed this and walked over to her. "That bad, huh?" Sam asked her gently as Dean and Y/N sat on the car trunk.

"Not right now" Jo snapped at him. Sam is taken back by this, "What happened?" He asks concerned but Jo doesn't answer. "Hey, talk to me" He tries to ask again, putting his hand on her shoulder but Jo pushes his hand off roughly. "Get off me!" She yelled, Sam's heart dropped at this. Dean and Y/N got up quickly at this, both getting up to walk over. Standing side by side near Sam.

"Talk to me, Jo" His voice falters when he notices the pained look on her face. "Turns out my dad had partners on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone. But I guess my father figured he could trust them." Jo begins, tears welling up in her eyes as they all listened. "Mistake. They screwed up, got my dad killed" She added with anger. "What does this have to do with-?" Y/N goes to ask, all confused but Jo cuts her off.

"It was your fathers, guys!" Jo yells. All of their hearts sink, Sam's especially. "Why do you think John and F/N never came back? Never told any of you about us? Because they couldn't look my mom in the eye after that. That's why!" She stated, filled with grief and anger. "Jo-" Dean tries to say. "Just get out of here" Jo growls, trying to not punch him.

"Please, just leave" She pleads, before turning away to walk. None of them knew how to respond. All facing the consequences of their parents’ sins.

________________________________

Author's Note: HIIII!! I hope everyone enjoyed this episode, I made this one especially long and added a few Easter eggs in, hopefully you pick up on them.

Can I just say…she really is an evil evil woman teasing Dean like that LOL. It was giving bad bitch for me tho hehehe. Definitely my favorite part of this episode😩

I'd like to know your opinions on Sam and Jo's crushes on each other this episode, I initially wasn't planning it but while writing this I thought it would be cute🥰

I know people love Dean and Jo and always thought they should've been endgame. But remember, this is a Dean x Reader book.

Anyways, thank you for reading and I can’t wait to do the next one!

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

Xoxo

[femwrestlinggif]

Dominated......

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VIEW!

the kind of contestants they’d be on shitty romance reality tv

gender neutral reader

ISAGI YOICHI!

the shy boy everyone ends up rooting for!

It’s hard to not fall in love with Isagi! Sure, he’s not the one that immediately takes the crowd by storm at his first appearance, and it might take him a little bit before people can actually tell him apart from the show’s other contestants. But Isagi proves himself to be a genuine, hard-working boy, and his bright smile and innocent eyes cements him as the “sweet boy next door” archetype. His love is quiet, strong, and fulfilling—even if he gets terribly embarrassed and flushes a bright red every time the show’s hosts tease him about how he has a little crush on you! 

DATES: Casual dates! He loves taking you out for coffee or snacks. He’s less occupied with what the two of you are doing than he is at getting to know you better. While he might look like nothing short of the perfect gentleman, his heart is threatening to beat out of his ribcage the entire time. Maybe if he’s feeling courageous, Isagi will take your hand in his hand when your fingertips brush against his.

BACHIRA MEGURU!

life of the party!

Not afraid to ever speak his mind, Bachira knows how to make an impression on the audience. He’s bright, bubbly, and fun! He’s exactly the kind of contestant that everyone’s dying to partner up with, and once he finds someone he likes, he refuses to let anybody else tempt him. Bachira loves showering you with affection, regardless of whether or not there are cameras on him. He can get pretty handsy too, so he’s sure to keep an arm slung around your waist or pull you onto his lap whenever he gets the opportunity. Still, much like his name, his attraction towards you is as sweet as honey!

DATES: Bachira usually doesn’t have a preference as long as you’re with him. But he loves getting a little active, be it a casual game of beach volleyball or even chasing you around the show’s dorms. If you get him to open up enough, he’ll gladly take you out on a date to his mom’s art gallery, where you can share a heartfelt moment with him. If you want to try your hand at painting, he’ll eagerly join you too!

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE!

knight-in-shining-armor!

Kunigami takes everyone’s breath away at his first appearance, thanks to his absolutely sculpted body and smoldering eyes, but he’s quick to break down his seemingly aloof character due to how noble he is. He’s always treating you to nice things, making sure you’re doing alright, and speaking up for you whenever any of the other contestants try to start unprompted fights. He’s a refreshing change to all the petty catfights and squabbles that usually entail shitty reality TV, and him taking care of you is his way of proving to both you and everyone watching that his heart belongs to you and you only. 

DATES: Nothing can beat a good spa day with Kunigami! He’ll wow you with all the cosmetic skills he’s picked up from his sister, and it’s hard to not feel flattered when he wraps an arm around your torso and pulls you in for a secret cuddle while the two of you unwind. He probably gets a little shy when you yank your robe down to reveal skin, mumbling under his breath about how he wishes the cameras weren’t there so he can have you all to himself.

CHIGIRI HYOMA!

one of the girls!

Chigiri can take a bit of time to warm up to. Blunt, moody, but horribly irresistible, he’s the pretty boy contestant that everyone ends up coveting. But once he knows that you’re genuinely interested in him, he’ll reward your perseverance by opening up bit-by-bit. He has such an ambitious but polite personality that time flies by like nothing around him, and other couples are practically seething at how the two of you magically attract the spotlight wherever you go. He’s sure to become a contestant that’ll influence social media and the show’s seasons to follow through the sheer power of his ice cold beauty.

DATES: Chigiri really hates having people all up in his personal business despite being on a reality TV show, so he prefers dates where he can slip away with you. Late night walks are the perfect way for him to unwind with you at his side, and the wind is a perfect excuse to get you to touch his hair. He loves aimlessly wandering around talking about whatever he wants with you, and he’s sure to send you off with a goodnight kiss.

SEISHIRO NAGI!

teddy bear!

It’s honestly a mystery as to how someone as unmotivated as Nagi ended up as a contestant, but once you get past his listless moods, he’s adorable boyfriend material. He might not be the best dressed or the most energetic, but there’s something so awfully intimate about the way he constantly has you scooped up in his arms or how he gets all grumpy when another contestant takes an interest in you. He’s also bound to make jaws DROP when the inevitable shirtless episode happens, and everyone finds out that he’s packing a body of straight muscle underneath all of his sweaters and baggy pants.

DATES: Nagi wants to stay in 100% of the time. His idea of a good time is curling up in his bed with a movie or a game on and not giving a shit about what everyone else is doing. If you’re feeling peckish, you can usually get him to cave into going outside for a bit by tickling. Although be careful—getting all handsy under the covers goes both ways, and the cameras are eager to pick up on any lovin’ happening!

ITOSHI RIN!

hey, emo boy! hey, hey, hey, emo boy!

Rin makes waves as an almost antagonistic contestant throughout the show. He’s not here to play nice, and if people have an issue with his personality, then they’re clearly not meant to be his partner. He only wants someone that’s worthy of his attention, and when you win his heart over, Rin is nothing but an absolutely lovestruck puppy. It gives the audience a little whiplash to see him snarling at someone and then get all sappy with you at the drop of a hat, but it only adds to his moe-like charm. Being so young, he’s awfully new to love, so it doesn’t take much to make him an endearing love interest once his walls come down.

DATES: He’s fine with anything as long as you drag him around. Window shopping downtown and chowing down on any snacks that catch your fancy is all he really wants. He’ll pay for anything that catches your eye and carry all your bags. He swears he’s having a good time, even though he’s walking around with his lips pressed into the thin line the entire date. And you know he is, given how he trails after you like you’re his lifeline.

YUKIMIYA KENYU!

prince charming!

Yukimiya is the picture perfect man. Not only is he attentive, attractive, and alluring, he’s also mild-mannered but still firm. He’ll open doors for you and shower you with compliments, and his attention to detail easily earns him a place as the audience’s favorite. Yukimiya does have a bit of a competitive streak though, which means it’s a bad idea for any of the other contestants to take him lightly. He’s not afraid to throw his weight around if it means impressing you, and he’ll take down his rivals with that beaming model smile on his face. He’s romantic and an all-around good guy, even if his jealous streak does lead to some steamy behind-the-scenes moments.

DATES: If the weather allows it, Yukimiya would love to take you ice skating! Nothing screams romantic to him more than skating with you hand-in-hand. It’s alright if you’re a complete beginner; he’ll firmly plant his hands around your hips and teach you the techniques. If you prefer to hang off of his arm and sneak kisses to warm up his cold cheeks, he’s down for that too. It also goes without saying that a generous cup of hot chocolate is guaranteed to follow, with him poking fun at your whipped cream mustache after your first sip.

KURONA RANZE!

dream come true!

Kurona’s striking appearance does him some favors in the beginning, but his strong points are his loyalty. He’s someone who stays true to his decisions, which includes his choice in a partner, and his fierce loyalty could turn anyone green with envy. Definitely the kind of contestant that everyone drools over through the duration of the show, and his 100% boyfriend material personality ensures that he wiggles his way into your heart without any difficulties. No worries though, because he’s had his eye on you since day one!

DATES: Kurona’s always wanted to take you out on a picnic date, where he can escape the spotlight and really get to spend some quality time with you. He’ll wake up early to make sandwiches and all of your favorite snacks, and he gets a little shy when you compliment him so highly for his efforts. Really, he’s willing to do whatever it takes if it means you’ll be happy, so you can expect for him to go all out on you again.

SENDOU SHUTO!

no bitches?

Sendou is a lot to take in. He’s very eager to find someone, to say the least, and his pathetic nature does hold its charms. But if you want your personal cheerleader who has eyes for no one but you, Sendou’s the contestant for you! His jaw drops every time you have a costume change, and he gets all awfully pouty if he thinks you haven’t been giving him the attention he’s due. He’ll also try to flirt with you often, even if it’s only his effort that’s being appreciated by the audience, only to become completely gobsmacked when you turn around and flirt right back at him. He’s completely wrapped around your finger, and the crowd never fails to gobble it up!

DATES: Sendou’s never dated anyone before, so any first date-esque date is perfect for him! He likes amusement parks because he always talks bravely but ends up needing to hold your hand for every scary roller coaster he comes across. But you’ll make it up to him by sharing some treats with him, and once he gets in the groove, Sendou will even win you a cute stuffed animal from one of the rigged carnival games! Just… don’t ask how many tries it actually took him.

OLIVER AIKU!

nice guys finish last!

Oh, it would be so easy to lie and say that someone like Aiku isn’t worth your time, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. He’s definitely a flirt and a playboy, soaking up the attention that everyone douses him in, but as much as you hate him, you have to admit that he’s irritatingly handsome. But past all the flirting and sultry gazes is someone who wants to find a true partner, and if you give him a chance, Aiku knows better than to squander it. Besides, he’s a team player and dependable when things really boil down, and his inclination towards whoredom is just a little added spice to your relationship! 

DATES: Aiku always insists on a beach date (totally not because he wants to see you in a skimpy swimsuit or anything…), but he’s also totally chill with a homey ramen shop date too! He’ll goad you into trying some of his spicy ramen, and he’ll buy you ice cream afterwards because he feels bad for pressuring you. There’s no better end to the date than a few hours at karaoke and a late night drive back, where there’s bound to be some making out before he drops you off.

MICHAEL KAISER!

king queen bee!

Kaiser is hot stuff, and he knows it. He’s easily the most irritating contestant in the history of contestants, yet… you can’t help but be attracted to his horrible swagger and stunning looks. Kaiser’s bound to tease the hell out of you once he knows you like him, but he really isn’t one to talk. His crush on you is as obvious as daylight, and he spends the entirety of the show doing the most to impress you. Whether it’s lounging around shirtless or somehow always catching you alone, it’s like the two of you were meant to be. Well, duh, Kaiser won’t accept anyone but the best as his lover, and he’s determined to have you!

DATES: An expensive dinner at a nice restaurant where he can pamper the living hell out of you with that wallet of his followed by a few drinks at a fancy bar is his bread and butter. He also buys you your outfit, and he knows the producers of the show will let him because, c’mon, who doesn’t love a little bit of money spending? Kaiser loves it when you play hard to get, and winning you over with pricey gifts is only the start of his courtship.

x

[rivalsrapture]

Moments of Rapture

Once, and then again. Once, and then again. You raise up, and then slam your perky tits down on mine. Our soft, supple flesh giving way with every blow. Expanding out in a mushrooming base, only to find their form again as you lean back up to come again.

The heat of the room, and the ferocity with which we struggle causing us to sweat. The warm comforter beneath us making those first few drips and drops increase to a quick sheen.

My lips releasing grunts and groans with every lift and subsequent drop. I can’t take this. I can’t last, with how vicious each blow is, even if they aren’t painful. As what they are, is withering, and fatiguing. And so, desperate to do something – ANYTHING, I search the recesses of my mind for something we have done before. What I can use to escape a pin. And in a flash of action, on both our parts, I go to bridge beneath you. Our hands and laced fingers releasing, as you, due to angle, slide up my body and to the side. Not off of me, but across my chest. Your hands catching my right arm, and your thighs wrapping around my left in a front-side crucifix.

“UGH, BITCH!” I grunt and curse, as my plan to get you off of me, only leaves us here. With me, refusing to give up my bridge, as you sink deep into a perfectly positioned pin.

[mspopstar]

i rlly hope jukid’s okay from fighting with keeby :(

(srsly that looked brutal asf)

"Jukid? Oh! That guy! Eehhh～! I don't care about that! He said some real mean things to me so why would I hold back? He was a bad guy so I really should've kil-"

"What my friend 'ere is TRYIN' to say is that he got a lil' carried away! You know how it is wit' these things! An' considering the customs and regulations of these matches, it was all A-Okay! Hair pulling? Well, things'll get dirty out there! The rock? I agree, a little overkill! Breakin' his fingers like a Mecheye mobsta' now that's too much! But ya hafta' understand that's apart of the thrill and givin' what the crowd wants! The people don't come for no fru-fru pansy ladies catfight! No! They come for blood, savagery, and thrills! That's why Keeby's got so many fans, guy's a natural! The phrase "Cavius is Cruel" doesn't come from notin'! And hey, hey, hey! With a couple of Maxim Tomatos and a little vacation at the doc's he's gonna be fiiiine!"

-Kunckle Joe, Keeby's Manager