Summary - Reader is having some peripheral experiences with a few Demons the boys are hunting and they stop by to interrogate. Since she’s also the town bartender, they’ll get their Hunter’s Helper from her, too. And maybe Dean will get a little more.
A/N - Somebody, somewhere in the fandom, wrote a hot little number once about getting caught listening to Def Leppard in Dean’s room. I love Hysteria, too! And of course Dean will get more; just have to wait until Part 2 is all. Sorry!
You had Hysteria on full blast in your workshop. Climbing the iron stairs to the second level of your metal sculpture, you dropped the mask of your welding helmet, opened the valve and lit your acetylene torch. You had loosely attached the new piece and were coaxing the intricate lines of molten metal along the flame’s path, adding both security and beauty to the area.
Your workbench was covered in tools and scrap metal, and the perimeter of the cavernous room was lined with finished pieces, most standing at least three to five feet tall. You were ambitious with the size of your latest project. And although it was hot in the industrial studio, you never took chances with your work and were in full coveralls to protect from any stray sparks. A few more strokes and you’d be done with this section.
Summary - Reader has been trying karaoke to express her feelings for Dean. When he doesn’t respond, she figures she needs to find a way to let it go.
Word Count - 1,533
Warnings - Fluff
A/N - I love writing fics inspired by songs. I wondered what it would be like to offset Dean’s 80′s metal with the pop music I actually used to listen to. (Ugh, no judging, please.)
You were pretty sure you had the bunker to yourself for at least a few more nights. The way Sam made it sound, the hunt was at a standstill and unless they caught a break soon, there was no way they were cleaning up the mess and making it back before Friday night. If your timeline was right, maybe you and the boys could hit up Karaoke night on Saturday at The Last Resort, your favorite dive bar in Lebanon.
You had been dragging the Winchesters out to the bar any chance you got. Not that they were protesting alcohol and pretty women, but they had been reluctant when you told them about the karaoke happenings. Sam remained reticent and you had convinced him only once to join you onstage to croon Islands in The Stream as a joke.
