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Summary:

When the reader decides to listen to music in order to combat the exhausting amount of research he has to do, a certain angel hears the lyrics of one of the songs, leading to some rather…uncomfortable questions.

Work Text:

A monster had entered Lebanon, and no one had any idea what it was. Some signs pointed to vampires, others pointed towards a werewolf, and Dean swore there were signs of wendigo activity, but Sam was skeptical about Dean’s findings. After they interviewed the victims’ families and searched around the sites where the individuals were last seen, the group was still limited on clues that would give them a definite answer. So, they decided to head back to the bunker and do the one thing they were least excited to do;

Research.

They knew that it was going to be a gruesome task - looking through all the text in the Men of Letters bunker - to try and find exactly what they were hunting. They enlisted the help of Castiel, giving him his first taste of what researching entailed. The four of them were gathered around a table in the library, noses deep in books and websites as they scoured the seemingly endless resources at their disposal. 

After several hours, multiple closed tabs, and two stacks of books, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Everyone was starting to feel fatigued and all of them wanted nothing more than to take a break. However, despite the feeling of exhaustion, they kept going. It was different when the unknown monster was right on their doorstep.

(Y/N) let out a sigh as Sam dropped the book in front of him, a cloud of dust emitting from the leather-bound cover. He coughed and covered his mouth. 

“Care to explain why we can’t take a break from research?” (Y/N) questioned, clearing his throat as he raised a brow.

 Sam walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down with his book in hand. “The monster’s not going to take a break from killing people, so we can’t take a break from researching.” He replied, a sigh following his response. 

(Y/N) groaned. He unclipped the binding on the side of the book and opened it up to reveal the yellowed pages. “I wish these damned monsters would get a life and take a vacation.” He grumbled. 

Dean snorted from beside his brother, eyes glued to his laptop as he took a swig of beer. “You and me both.” 

“Well, if I’m going to keep researching, then I’m going to be listening to music while I do so,” (Y/N) reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He placed one into his ear. “Just tap my shoulder if y’all need something,” he mumbled before placing the other bud into his ear. 

He began to search through the different playlists that he made, each of them meant for a different mood he was in. There was a playlist dedicated to helping him relax, one to help wake him up, one to help him sleep, one to pump him up for upcoming hunts, and many more. At that point, the last thing he wanted to listen to was quiet, soothing music. He needed something to keep him awake and hype him up while continuing the research. Once he settled on a playlist, he clicked on the first song before setting his phone down on the table beside him. 

The music soon began to flow through the earbuds, encasing (Y/N) in his own little world as his gaze moved to the text in front of him. For several minutes, his eyes were trained on the book as different pop, hip-hop, and rap songs filled his ears. His head moved up and down slowly in a rhythmic motion as he read over the faded words, flipping the pages to try and find the answer they needed. 

Soon, a familiar tune filled his ears, followed by the words to one of his favorite songs. 

Whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house (hol' up)

I said certified freak, seven days a week

Wet ass pussy, make that pullout game weak, woo! (Ah)

(Y/N)’s head movements immediately shifted to the rhythm of the song and he fought back the urge to sing along. As the song played, he was finding it more and more difficult to focus on the book rather than the lyrics. It was a great distraction from the necessary research at hand. 

Tie me up like I'm surprised

Let's role-play, I wear a disguise

I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage

Make it cream, make me scream

Out in public, make a scene

I don't cook, I don't clean

But let me tell you, I got this ring (ayy, ayy)

(Y/N) had now completely abandoned the book in front of him as he continued to listen to the song. His eyes were still cast down at the book, but nothing was sinking in as he scanned over the same line of text over and over again. He began to sing along to the song in his head. 

Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me (Yeah)

Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me (Yeah)

I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be (Huh)

I'll run down on him 'fore I have a (Ayy) runnin' me

A light tap on his shoulder startled (Y/N) from his trance. He turned towards the direction of the tap to see Castiel pulling his hand back towards him. (Y/N) raised his brows as he reached over, paused the song, then took one of his earbuds out. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

Castiel stared at him with a confused expression, opening his mouth to speak but finding himself unable to find the words that he was looking for. He looked down at the table, the floor, then back at (Y/N). (Y/N) reached up and took his other earbud out, giving Castiel his full attention.

“What’s up, Cas?” He asked once more. 

Still, Castiel couldn’t seem to form the question he wanted to ask. Dean glanced up over his computer screen and took another sip of beer. “Just spit it out, Cas,” he chimed in.

Castiel was finally able to find the words that he was looking for. “(Y/N)...” he trailed, his voice filled with uncertainty. “What is…what does ‘wet ass pussy’ mean?” 

Dean choked on his beer, causing it to spill out of the corners of his mouth. It threw Dean into a coughing fit. He scooted his chair back and leaned forward. Sam stared at Castiel with wide eyes for a moment before he looked over at his brother. He reached over and began to pat his back. Meanwhile, (Y/N) stared at Castiel with a wide deer-in-headlights look, mouth hung open. Castiel studied the three for a moment before he shrunk back into his seat. 

“Did I say something inappropriate?” He asked in a quiet tone, a look of shame crossing his face. 

(Y/N)’s mouth moved up and down, the flabbergasted expression still present on his face as he tried to think of a response. At that point, Dean had stopped coughing and his and Sam’s eyes were staring right at (Y/N). 

“Um…uh…” (Y/N)’s mind was blank, still in shock from the question. Castiel stared at him intently, sharp blue eyes seemingly piercing into his soul. Finally, (Y/N) cleared his throat and sat up. “Why, um…why do you ask?” 

Castiel gave a gentle nod toward (Y/N)’s phone. “You were listening to a song.” He said. “It mentioned something about ‘wet ass pussy’. I’ve never heard that term before, so I was curious as to what it meant.” 

“Was my music too loud?” (Y/N) asked, trying to steer clear of any explanation he had to give. He glanced towards Sam, then Dean, then finally at Castiel.

Sam and Dean shook their heads in response, their eyes still attached to him. Castiel shook his head as well. 

“No. your music was at an adequate volume. I heard it in your head.” 

“Ah…” (Y/N) nodded his head slowly. He folded his hands on the table in front of him and bit his lip. 

“I believe ‘wet ass pussy’ has something to do with sex when it is compared to the other lyrics of the song.” 

“Cas, can you please stop saying ‘wet ass pussy’.” (Y/N) spoke in a slightly strangled tone of voice. 

“Was I correct?” 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before he looked towards the brothers, who both had mirroring looks of amusement. “A little help here,” he grumbled between gritted teeth. 

Sam and Dean both shook their heads. Sam threw his hands up, signaling that he was staying out of it while Dean smirked and reached for his beer again. “This is all on you, buddy,” he piped up. 

(Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. Certainly, he couldn’t explain what ‘wet ass pussy’ meant to an angel, right? That was just guaranteeing him a one-way ticket to Hell at that point. He weighed his options. He could be teased relentlessly as he explained what the term meant to Castiel while simultaneously securing the number one spot in Hell next to Crowley, or he could be teased regardless and hope that he could still get into Heaven. 

He decided to save himself from any further embarrassment. 

Quickly, (Y/N) stood from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping against the concrete floor. He closed the book in front of him and brought it close to his chest.

“I think I’m going to continue researching in my room.” He stated. 

He grabbed his phone and struggled to place it into his pocket, followed by his earbuds, before escaping the room as quickly as he could. Sam and Dean watched him with smirks on their faces while Castiel just watched in confusion as his friend retreated. Sam and Dean looked at one another, Sam shaking his head before he returned to the book in front of him. Dean, on the other hand, let out a deep chuckle before turning his attention back to the computer screen. Castiel’s eyes were cast down, his lips pursed and back slouched ever so slightly. 

After a while, Castiel sat upright in his seat and placed his folded hands in his lap. 

“What is ‘wet ass pussy?” He asked, looking towards Sam and Dean for some type of answer. 

Sam and Dean looked up at him, then at each other, then back at him. 

“We’ll have (Y/N) tell you later, Cas,” Sam finally answered. 

Seeming slightly satisfied with the response, the three of them got back to researching while (Y/N) sat in his room, forgetting about the case altogether and trying his best to rid himself of the horrible feeling of discomfort he was experiencing. 

 

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