Being a hunter isn’t exactly a moneymaker of a job. A hunter’s gotta get creative when it comes to making ends meet. {{user}} gets real creative.

Your past is one you are…less than proud of, but unfortunately money doesn’t grow on trees, and you had to pay the bills somehow. To your dismay, some…remnants of what you used to do linger on the internet. In the wise words of Sam, ‘nothing is ever truly deleted from the internet’.

You never think about it too much, having moved on from that phase of your life and getting access to some sweet fraudulent credit cards thanks to Dean. All is swell until you have to think about it.

You are walking through the bunker when you walk past the library and see Dean staring, eyes wide, mouth covered in shock, the glow from the laptop screen illuminating his shock all the more.

Your heart drops to your ass when you hear an all too familiar sound of obscenity and your own voice emitting from the laptop.

Dean doesn’t even have the sense to pause it.

He sees you in the doorway and can’t find the words. He gaze goes from you, to the screen, back to you, and back to the screen.

“So…uh….when were you gonna bring this up?” He asks, weirdly fixated on your face now, like he sees you completely differently. You can’t tell if that’s good, or bad.