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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— HOLD ME LIKE A GRUDGE

SUMMARY : dean is a demon. it’s Christmas Eve and it’s exhausting to keep fighting him, but he’s accidentally knocked out by the reader. so, she took him back to her parents’ place to clean him up... but her whole family is already home.

PAIRING : demon!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : cenric (OMC), guren (OMC), koro (OMC), kandora (OFC), meliora (OFC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, implied cheating, fluff, fun family time, toxic relationship, rough sex, intoxicated sex, p in v, unprotected sex

WORD COUNT : 4.8k

A/N : fall out boy song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — hot tub sex and drunk sex. let's pretend demon!Dean lasted for a long while. wtf is that name? it’s from the video game Destiny, probably (they have badass names, especially the villains/sometimes they’re ridiculous, lmao). XXxx

Y/n and Sam split up in their search for Dean.

Both were in search of him… and Crowley. But mostly Dean.

Dean didn’t behave much like any other demon. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He settled for over drinking, dancing, singing bad karaoke, sleeping with random women—which stung, killing people in self-defence. The list goes on, but he’s more bored than evil.

She knew Dean, even now, as a demon. This was Dean when he was bored. Not Dean being evil. That just wasn’t Dean.

She didn’t know it, but he was keeping tabs on her, too. He’d fool Crowley by promising to seal deals, pretending he was going off with a girl or two, getting away for some ‘Dean time’ doing random shit…

He was just going out to see her. There’s something that he can’t shake off about her. It might be the possessiveness, the ownership he feels towards her… it’s something he doesn’t understand, a tug deep within himself that yearns to be whole. A part of him that’s sure that missing piece is her.

Crowley sent demons after her. Of course he did, to slow her down, to throw her off. Dean lied to Crowley, the way he always did to get what he wanted. Instead of fleeing because ‘you’re getting too attached, let’s move on’, Dean stayed behind to make sure she made it out safely.

It irked him to feel that guardianship, that… need or whatever the hell it was that compelled him to keep her safe.

But, one thing led to another, she was outnumbered by about fifteen demons. She’d gotten at least five of them by the time Dean decided to show himself. He didn’t completely protect her from harm, but he saved her from possibly deadly blows.

She was stunned to see him there and she looked absolutely ravishing. Covered in blood. Her soft hair falling free from the tie holding her hair in place and out of the way. The focused furrow of her brows. The irritated scowl on her pretty face.

Dean got distracted. It was his first mistake, ever since he became a demon. He felt time slow down with only three demons left, the two of them moving in sync like nothing ever happened, like nothing stood between them.

“Six!” She shouted, expecting him to get down, but he didn’t. She punched him square in the face and his body fell loudly with a thud, but she didn’t let herself get distracted.

She killed the last three demons in a breeze because even they were astounded that the knight of hell, Dean Winchester, was knocked unconscious by a smaller hunter. By a human.

She didn’t bother cleaning up. Fifteen bodies? If Crowley didn’t want to be tracked, he’d clean it up on his own. Instead, she carefully pulled Dean out of the warehouse she was staying in as she stalked her boyfriend and Crowley.

She found his car nearby, poor Baby was a complete mess. She hid her stolen car behind the warehouse next to a bunch of tumbleweed, took everything that was hers, wiped it clean of prints and other evidence, and left in the Impala.

With Dean in the backseat, she wondered what she would do now. She didn’t expect for this to happen. The plan was originally to see what Dean and Crowley were up to, call Sam, then go back home as Sam took care of the rest.

It was too late for that. Her family was home waiting to celebrate the holidays. All of them cleared the schedules to get together, they’d planned it a whole year before, even she did and she was supposed to bring Dean.

Guess that’s still the case, except he’s a demon now… and she’s kidnapping him.

It was a long ride back home. It was inevitable that Dean would wake up completely pissed.

He glared at her from the backseat, cuffed with his arms behind him. The road was empty so there was nothing to put them in danger as he wasn’t secured with a seatbelt. Most importantly, it wouldn’t matter that she swerved so hard that he fell onto his side with a grunt before letting out a deep growl.

“Bitch!”

“Oh, stop it, it’s the least you deserve after everything you’ve done,” she muttered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. Her heart hammered rapidly with anger and hatred, but she focused on driving herself home safely.

“I just helped you out,” he reminded her darkly, leaning against the car door to sit back up.

“Yeah, and I’m thanking you by saving your life,” she retorted.

“I’m fine.” She scoffed at him, but stared at him from the rearview mirror for a few seconds before he looked back at her. She realigned the car when it veered off slightly.

“You’re a demon.”

“I’m still me, sweetheart, just because you don-”

To prevent further conversation, she pulled out the first cassette tape she touched and shoved it into the car deck. The ride to her family’s home was tense and irritating because Dean decided to sing along tunelessly.

It was better than having to hear his insults or cruel comments. He was funny sometimes, too, when they made pit stops… even if she currently hated him.

“Ah, here we are, awesome,” Dean murmured sarcastically as she killed the purring engine of the Impala.

“Shut up, I’m tying you up in the basement,” she glared at him. He scoffed as she got out of the driver’s seat, walking around the front of the car to unlock the door for him.

“Hey! We’ve been waiting for you!” She heard from the doorway. It was her little sister who was now walking towards them.

“I’m going to shout,” Dean told her, gazing up at her with a feigned innocent expression. Green, sparkling eyes wide and a pout that almost reminded her of when he was human.

“Shut up,” she whispered harshly before lifting her head with a sweet smile towards her sister. “Hey, Dean’s got.. an embarrassing situation going on, think you can distract everyone for the meantime?” Her sister stopped where she was, her eyes flicking to Dean for a heartbeat or two and then to her older sister.

“Sure,” Kandora shrugged, quickly turning around and jogging up to the door.

“Cute,” Dean grunted. Y/n gripped the back of his red flannel and harshly yanked him out of the car, holding back a snicker when Dean bumped his head on the top of the inside of the car. “You know, this is the body of the man you used to make love to,” he reminded her with a sneer, leaning his back against his car as she shut the door.

She smiled at him sarcastically, “yeah, and then you used this body to fuck whores, so I don’t really care.” She grabbed the middle chain between the cuffs and tugged him the whole way to the entrance where they removed their shoes.

When she was fully inside the house she could hear her sister telling a story loudly while laughing hard along with her family.

She quickly made her way down to the basement, turning the light on before pushing Dean. He stumbled over the stairs and glared back at his lover when he regained his balance.

“Smart, no one could hear me here,” he told her with a smirk. She frowned at his words, freezing in the middle of uncuffing him after leaving him over an ugly rug where a devil’s trap was painted underneath.

She had a few quick flashbacks of her and Dean having sex in the soundproof basement when they could get away from all the family time. No one could hear them—and hopefully no one knew what was going on. Those were the perks of a retired hunter family.

She undid the cuffs and he gently massaged his wrists even if they healed up quickly. She watched curiously and then looked away to hand him a few clean up supplies that weren’t necessarily dangerous to her or her family.

She turned to look at him and opened her mouth.

“Let me guess: shut up and stay put?” He smiled down at her in an attempt to be charming, but she rolled her eyes, pretending it didn’t work.

“Oh, you’re so smart,” she praised bitingly, patting his cheek in a demeaning manner. He scowled and moved away from her to clean the demon blood off himself.

She made her way back upstairs to join her family who were now somewhat silent. Music played softly in the background. Thankfully, it wasn’t irritating Christmas music, but songs she recognised were her oldest brother’s favourite songs.

The scent of her favourite food wafted up her nose, arising hunger into her stomach that growled like a great beast. The lights weren’t too bright either, which allowed her to relax when she settled in the kitchen with her family as they waited for the food to get ready.

Her mother, father, two older brothers, and little sister sat around the table doing random things waiting for the food to finish cooking.

“Honey, you made it,” her mom, Meliora, smiled happily, halting when she saw the bloody state of her daughter, but her happy expression didn’t falter.

“Hey, mom, guys,” she smiled at her family bashfully, not looking them in the eyes. “I’m gonna clean up, just wanted to say hi before going upstairs,” she informed them.

“Good, you stink,” her brother Koro snorted playfully.

“Yeah, you didn’t have to say come hi, we could already smell you were here,” her oldest brother Cenric remarked just as mischievously.

They all broke into laughter and Y/n shook her head, giving her dad, Guren, a kiss on top of his greying head before making her way out of the kitchen to clean up.

Once she was done cleaning up—wearing cosy clothes from her past that her mom kept—she made her way downstairs again. Much to her dismay, she saw Dean wearing only a black t-shirt having the time of his life telling the embarrassing story about the time she got so flustered, she spit her milkshake out into the face of a woman who flirted with her when they were undercover for a Lamia case.

She wondered how he got out of the devil’s trap. She figured that maybe her parents removed it, but that wouldn’t be safe.

He smiled brightly when he looked up and saw her, acting like nothing was wrong in the world. It looked domestic, way too painfully domestic. The casualness of him leaning against the couch next to Kandora who was holding a mug of warm Champurado in her favourite yellow mug looked too natural. He wore only some socks and really looked like a boyfriend right now.

“Hey, babe,” Dean grinned and she forced a smile, making her way to him.

“Hey.”

As he wrapped his arm around her he murmured into her slightly wet hair, “you’re so lucky.” She hummed a laugh, feigning amusement and wrapped her arm around his waist to pinch his back harshly.

He tightened his grip around her and released a strained laugh before adding to the conversation, talking to her family and answering their questions the same way he would have if he weren’t a demon.

“I know we said no partners, but Dean and I were working a last minute case,” she began explaining to her mom.

“It’s okay,” Meliora smiled, “Dean explained already.” Her mother kissed her forehead and got up to check the food. “Besides, he’ll make sure there are no leftovers that will go bad.”

“Right,” she murmured, laughing softly as her mother disappeared into the kitchen with Guren getting up to help her out as well.

It was almost normal, except he’d sneak a couple of drinks—mostly alcoholic eggnog—until she could smell it in his breath, but he seemed completely unaffected by the alcohol. It was something her family didn’t catch on to throughout the evening. Although, the only one who knew about Dean’s drinking problem was Kandora—they told each other everything.

Dean was a bit more handsy as he got less sober, and he held his tongue most times to keep the conversation appropriate and respectful, save for a couple of swear words he’d exchange with Koro as they told each other stories.

When they all sat at the dinner table to finally eat, Dean kept his hand on her thigh. Occasionally, he’d pet her, sneaking his fingers teasingly between her thighs, brushing over the thin material of her thick leggings.

In response, she’d pretend to be cute and couple-y by lifting food up into his mouth and whispering warnings into his ear. She knew it only egged him on, he’d stare at her with a little smirk and even dared to kiss her with his mouth full of food, the corner of his lips smudged with tamale sauce.

He was even playful. It would have warmed her heart, except it was very irritating and hurtful to know it wasn’t even real. When Kandora dared him to eat her mom’s spiciest salsa with his tamales, he accepted the challenge, and permitted her to serve him what she wanted him to finish.

Y/n didn’t know if he was pretending or not, half the time.

Still, Dean kept up appearances by overeating, taking at least two servings of everything, even the cherry pie her little sister made especially for him once he finished eating tamales with Meliora’s spiciest salsa.

Even she resorted to drinking eggnog with alcohol to make the night easier, to loosen up a bit as Dean got clingier. She played along with Dean and finally, she was able to get away as midnight came and her family cleaned up to go to sleep.

It sucked to watch Dean help her mother wash dishes, the way he would have if he were human. As if he were truly her Dean. She was just glad he didn’t plan on hurting them, at least so far he hasn’t tried.

He just fit in perfectly with every single one of them, the way he always did. Easily moulding himself into whatever environment he was placed in. Everyone adored him, he was always so real, so loveable, so easy to talk to. He had a light to him that no one could recreate, one everyone was drawn to like moths to a flame.

“You drank too much,” she commented as she walked upstairs to her room with Dean behind her.

“Was the only way I could deal with you and not be an asshole with your whole family there,” he grunted, stepping in front of her to open the door, falling straight into her pink bed rather than holding the door open for her or shutting it behind them.

“Real thoughtful,” she muttered, shutting and locking the door of her childhood bedroom. “Get off my bed,” she ordered, making her way next to him. He only smiled, eyes closed, trying to be cute as he snuggled her pillow, verdant eyes fluttering open as he gazed up at her through long, beautiful lashes.

“Just join me instead and we can show this bed the action it’s been missing since you moved out,” Dean purred, turning over onto his back. He reached out for her wrist and tugged her forward, catching her with his arms around her waist. “You’re criticising me for drinking, but I can smell it on you, too,” he narrowed his eyes up at her.

“Shut up,” she muttered, squirming and wiggling until he let her roll over next to him. “I can’t stand you.” She grabbed the pillow beneath his head and yanked it out with a snicker, placing it between her legs as she turned over on her side.

“I’m still me,” he retorted, turning on his side to face her back.

“So ya keep sayin’,” she mumbled in irritation, trying to make her head stop spinning when she closed her eyes.

He sighed and scooted up on the bed, staring up boredly at the pink ceiling, the bright light at the centre. He knew she wasn’t asleep, she kept moving, trying to make her drunkenness stop her from sleeping peacefully.

He knew she wasn’t going to stop being angry at him, which was a complete one-eighty from the last time he saw her. She’d begged for him to come back to her, professed her undying, unchanging love for him… now, she seemed almost disgusted by him. It made him wonder what changed.

Irritation boiled in him, even jealousy made heat rise up his chest to his ears and neck. What if there was someone else?

“I’ve always wanted to get in a hot tub,” he broke the silence, staring at the back of her head as she stilled. She grunted in response after a few moments of silence and lifted the pillow between her legs up to her mouth, tight against her stomach as the alcohol decided to turn against her. “Wanna… get in?” He asked, grasping her hip and squeezing.

“We’ll… drown..” she lied, tightening her grip on the pillow when his touch sent sparks of pleasure down to her clit.

“Nah,” he murmured, sliding his hand beneath her shirt against her warm stomach to turn her onto her back, tight against his body. “Come with me,” he murmured, sliding his hand up higher.

“Fine,” she inhaled sharply, getting up faster than she should have to avoid his touch. Dizziness from the alcohol made her stumble, but she caught herself on the wall, facing the Christian Bale poster on her wall.

“Careful,” he told her, getting up from the bed to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.

“Let’s just go cross it off your weird bucket-list.” She made her way to the door, forgetting to unlock it as she tugged it hard.

“You’re drunker than me,” he chuckled, unlocking the door, wrapping his large warm hand over hers to turn the doorknob and open the door. She pursed her tips and unfocused her gaze on the door until he removed his hand from hers.

They quietly made their way down the stairs and she held the wall to balance herself while Dean watched her closely. Making their way blindly through the house to the backyard, Dean laughed softly to himself, which made her shush him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, completely unapologetically, “it’s just that you’re such a good girl,” he began explaining, an undertone of sexualness in his words, “I can’t believe you agreed to this.” He sighed gleefully, opening the glass door to the outside where the hot tub was.

“I… not always,” she argued, noting a few times in which she proposed scandalous ideas to him. He started to unbuckle his belt, his shirt riding up his tummy.

“No, not always,” he agreed quietly, staring straight into her eyes as she stared hungrily at the bit of exposed skin. “But you never want your family to know we have sex,” he told her, shoving his jeans down his legs, revealing the lack of boxers.

Her eyes widened and she looked away, walking past him to fill and turn the tub on. He smirked, pleased with her reaction.

“You were really loud in the basement, though,” he recalled, pulling the shirt over his head and toeing his socks off. “So pornographic,” he added dreamily. Her face heated up and she turned to glare at him. “Hey, sorry, beautiful… Come, take your clothes off.” He laughed, then bit his lip seductively, trying to reel her in with a tilt of his head.

She scoffed at him, but began removing her clothes. He shrugged and dipped his fingers into the tub, testing the waters before stepping inside. She stripped down to her bra and underwear, which he tilted his head at disappointedly with a frown. He held his hand out for her to take and carefully helped her inside.

She scooted far away from him and slid inside so only her chin rested above the water to combat the biting December wind. He rolled his eyes at her, but let her do as she wanted, staring up at the sky which was frosted with stars, the whole gated community dark and asleep.

“How’d you get out?” She broke the awkward silence, looking around the white glazed bricks separating her parent’s home and the neighbours’ homes. The lights inside were shut off, except for the Christmas lights decorating the inside and the outside of their houses. No one was awake to peep.

“Devil's trap not gonna work on something like me,” he told her smugly, playing with the water. She hummed in irritation, looking at him. “Come closer to me,” he requested, making his way halfway to her.

Begrudgingly, she made her way to him, staring curiously at his still handsome face.

“What?” She murmured, tilting her head at him. Dean gently brushed his knuckles down her cold cheek and she moved away slightly, brows furrowing with perplexity.

“You know, to really cross it off my bucket list, we need to have sex,” he reminded her. She considered his words and grimaced, moving away from him. It stung, demon or not, to see the woman who once loved him unconditionally become disgusted by the thought of sex with him.

“No,” she whispered, “we’re drunk.”

“It’s not like we haven’t done it drunk before,” he pressed, splaying his hand over her back and cupping her jaw. She inhaled and became tense, pushing him away.

“You getting separation anxiety?” She asked scathingly, hoping to change the subject. He released her reluctantly and relaxed on his side of the tub.

“From who? Sam?” Dean asked boredly, playing with the water again, his mood sour.

“Crowley.” He glared at her, this time, he pounced on her, holding the back of her head to press his mouth to hers roughly. His tongue forcibly parted her lips, tasting the sweet eggnog and bitter alcohol in her mouth. As bile rose up to her throat, she whimpered and pushed him off. “You ass!” She splashed water into his face and he growled at her, eyes flickering black.

“Why are you being difficult?” He shouted at her, gripping her arms tightly.

“I’m not some meaningless lay,” she spat, reaching up between his arms, burying her fingers into his hair to pull roughly at his longer, honey strands, until he loosened his grip on her arms and hissed.

“I never said you were,” he seethed, wrapping his hand around her throat. She tugged his hair harder and so he immediately let her go, running his fingers down his face tiredly. “Is that what this is about? The women?” He inquired casually, like they meant nothing.

“What?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, shuddering at the cold breeze despite the flush of alcohol and the hot water.

“You heard me,” he whispered threateningly.

“Yes! Okay?” She admitted, then sighed, tears welling up her eyes. She blinked them away and clenched her jaw to keep her breath steady. She turned away, ready to climb out of the tub when Dean grabbed her elbow, moving them both into each other.

He didn’t say anything, but for the first time since he was a demon, his green eyes were cast downward in shame and regret.

“You told me that if you couldn’t have me, no one could,” she reminded him quietly.

“I meant it,” Dean reaffirmed, pulling her closer.

“That just applied to me, then?” He remained quiet, averting his gaze from hers. “What makes you think I’m letting you go now that I have you back?” His eyes snapped back to hers and they darkened.

He leaned down to kiss her again, but this time, she took his face in both of her hands, angling his face to control the kiss. Dean wrapped his arms around her, keeping her tight against his body.

Her soft tongue smoothed over his, teeth scraping, and lips bruising. Possessive and hot, she slid one hand away from his face between his legs where his cock was already erect. She curled her hand around him, pulling a deep groan from him.

He slid his hands up her back, finding the clasp of her drenched cotton bra, darkened red from the water. He quickly rid of it as she pressed and kissed him, her hand tugging his cock slowly.

His blunt nails scraped the silky skin of her shoulders, pulling down the straps until she released him for total removal of it from her body. He walked forward with her until her back was pressed against the heated wall of the tub and pulled away from her mouth to catch his breath.

He panted against her mouth, kissed her deeply once more before trailing open-mouth kisses down her neck and shoulders. His tongue picked up warm droplets that rolled from her velvety skin, his teeth grazed her collarbones and the tendons of her neck, suctioning her pulse and the sensitive parts of her.

“Remember that cat your sister had?” He murmured against her skin, moving her up slightly to attach his lips to her nipple and remove her underwear.

“Um, yeah, Tickle-toe?” She mumbled absent-mindedly, arching her back.

“Yup,” he chuckled, removing her underwear completely, throwing it out of the tub. “Always tried getting into the room when we were having sex? And then when we finally did let him in, he’d just stand there watching, or he’d lick you, or scratch me, like it was trying to be a part,” he retold, grasping both of her thighs. “Yeah, that’s Crowley.”

She laughed softly, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, her nails digging painfully into his skin to the point of breakage. Dean moaned softly, pushing her fully against the wall of the tub, spreading her thighs wide open so they were pressed against the wall.

He nuzzled his face into hers, brushing his lips softly against hers as his cock nudged teasing through her folds and past her clit. With her free hand, she wrapped a hand around his cock and guided him to her entrance.

Dean was gentle at first, slowly pushing in while his teeth sunk into her bottom lip. The pull out and the push in was slow as he felt the drag of the water, the way it slowed him before he began to fuck her earnestly. He released her lip to smash his mouth against hers, matching the painful thrust of his hips against hers.

She clung to his waist, moaning wantonly into his mouth as his cock stretched her walls, the length of it brushing wonderfully against the most sensitive parts of her, driving her crazier and crazier, driving her deeper into pleasure.

“Think I’m gonna fuck someone this good, this raw, with this much passion?” He panted against her mouth as she pulled him closer. She gasped loudly, squeezing his cock so tightly he growled deeply against her. “D’you think I’ll ever feel this love for anyone, for someone who isn’t you?” Her toes curled and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, moaning his name softly, pulling his body closer to hers.

“Please,” she whispered, chuckling breathlessly as he thrusted roughly and shallowly into her. He tightened his grip on her thighs, bruising her thighs, cutting her soft flesh with his fingernails, moaning with her as his body thrummed with life he hadn’t felt since he became a demon.

She squirmed as she approached her orgasm, her warm walls pulsing around his cock. Her mouth found his once more, their lips moved together messily, violently like their love, until they both fell apart.

He sucked her bottom lip and pulled away breathlessly with a smirk.

“Come with me,” he whispered, unhanding her thighs so she could wrap her legs around him instead. He held her closely, too, folding his arms around her waist.

“Ask me again in the morning,” she murmured, kissing his prickly jaw. “When I’m not drunk. When the afterglow’s gone.” She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth and he nodded in agreement, staying in the tub for a few moments before they untangled each other's limbs.

“Will your answer be different?” He quizzed, holding her chin between his two fingers. She tongue poked out to lick her bottom lip, followed by a thoughtful bit of her lip.

“No.”

Dean dipped down to peck her lips, lingering for a few thuds of his heartbeat before pulling away and kissing the top of her head.

“I’ll stay,” he promised, moving both of them out of the tub into the freezing cold. Dripping in water, they put their clothes back on with much difficulty, laughing quietly. Somewhat drunk still, they cleared out the tub and tried to get dry with Dean’s t-shirt before heading inside to shower and sleep in her childhood bed where they continued to do unspeakable things in the darkness as quietly as they could to not be discovered.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 8

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, fluff, some smut.

Word Count: 6,667

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: As I said in a previous post, this chapter just kicked my ass. I hope after battling with it for so long, you find it worth it. 😊

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N and Dean followed Cas into the tent, curiosity hurrying their step. When they entered, Y/N went to sit beside Emma on her cot and smoothed back her daughter’s messy hair. “You were supposed to be sleeping.” She said, her tone scolding.

Emma just shrugged and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dean added some wood to the stove to warm up the tent a bit more before coming back to where Cas stood impatiently. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a hand towards Cas.

“Okay, Cas, what do you know?”

Cas opened his mouth to speak but then looked down at Emma. “Perhaps…perhaps the child should be removed.”

Y/N felt Emma tense next to her, but before she could say anything, Dean leaned down to scoop Emma into his arms, settling her against his left side.

“No, she’s fine.” He kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Right kiddo?” Emma nodded and beamed up at Dean before she tucked her head under his chin and snuggled into his chest.

Y/N felt like her heart might burst with happiness and warmth as she saw the evidence of the deep connection that had been forged between Dean and Emma. She was so distracted by the sweet moment that it took her a second to realize Cas was speaking to her.

She looked over at him and shook her head. “Sorry, Cas, what did you say?”

The angel sighed heavily, and repeated himself. “I asked you how old you are.”

Thrown a bit by the question, Y/N frowned. Cas thought he understood her reluctance and tried to address it. “I realize that it's a generally accepted practice to never ask a woman her age but this is important.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine, Cas. I’m twenty-eight.”

The angel’s eyes lit up. “What month and year were you born?”

“Um, March 1986. Why?”

Cas clapped his hands together once. “I knew it!”

Dean seemed as confused as she was. “Cas, man, what are you talking-”

“When did Azazel die?”

Dean pulled up short as Cas interrupted him and then he was clearly wracking his memory. “Uh…I think 2006 or - no,” he corrected himself, “no, it was 2007. May 2007.”

Cas looked back to Y/N. “And how old were you in May 2007?”

She tried to do the math quickly, but Dean answered for her.

“Twenty-one.” His voice was almost a whisper and it sounded full of awe. “You were twenty-one.”

Y/N stood up from the cot, tired of craning her neck to look up at the two tall men. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, that seems right. Why?”

Dean and Cas exchanged a look and then the angel’s handsome face split into another rare smile and Dean followed very quickly - a bright beautiful smile spreading across his face. It didn’t matter that Y/N had no idea what they were so excited about - Dean’s pure, unfiltered smile was like sunshine and it warmed her just as much. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Dean looked down at her, his expression full of wonder before nodding and looking back at Cas. “Yes. She was twenty-one when Yellow-Eyes died. That’s why the psychic connection was never triggered between them. By the time she turned twenty-two, he was already dead.”

Cas was nodding. “So, she has the blood in her system, hence the immunity, but -”

“None of those pesky psychic side effects.” Dean finished.

Y/N put up her hands. “Okay, you both have to stop speaking in riddles and explain what the hell you’re talking about.”

Dean shifted Emma to his other arm, so he could face Y/N easier. “The demon gave you his blood; we know that for sure because you're immune to the bite you got, and there’s no other way that could be true. But every other person I've seen with the blood in their system started getting various kinds of psychic powers as soon as they turned twenty-two. But,” he pointed at Y/N, “you don't have them.”

He smiled at Cas. “And now we know why.”

He looked back at Y/N and his face was the happiest she'd ever seen it as he continued explaining. “Because by the time you turned twenty-two, the demon was already dead. So the psychic connection couldn't be made between the two of you.”

He was beaming at her, and Y/N smiled back, but she was slightly confused by his joy. She shrugged. “Well, that's…good.”

Dean shook his head. “It's so much more than good, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to a whisper of awe. “It's a cure.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “What?”

Cas moved closer. “Don't you see? The antibodies in your blood, they can be used to create a vaccine. And now that we know there's no inherent, potentially evil, psychic powers associated with the blood itself, there's nothing stopping us from trying to make one.”

Y/N felt an incredible sense of surreality fall over her, like she was suddenly in a very vivid dream.

A cure.

A cure for the world.

Inside of her.

It suddenly felt very hard for her to breathe, like she might just float away.

But then Dean's big hand was on her cheek, pulling her back to reality, grounding her with his warmth and the light in his emerald eyes.

“This is incredible, sweetheart. But it’ll be a process, probably a very long one. So, don't let it overwhelm you right now. Small steps, remember? Small things will add up to big wins, right?”

Y/N was so grateful for his steady calm and strength. She nodded as tears filled her eyes and she closed them, leaning into his palm.

“What's wrong, Mommy. Why are you crying?” Emma's little voice sounded slightly worried and Y/N popped open her eyes to see Dean kiss her forehead.

“Nothing's wrong kiddo. Mommy's just happy.”

Y/N nodded in reassurance, smiling brightly to put her daughter's mind at ease. “Yeah, baby. These are just happy tears.”

Emma seemed satisfied and smiled back.

Cas spoke again, his deep voice rumbling through the tent. “You know Y/N, it’s also unlikely that the responsibility will fall solely on you.”

Y/N and Dean looked at Cas questioningly as the angel explained.

“Well, Azazel never turned just one child at a time. He spoke of generations, didn’t he? So, there would be Sam’s generation, born in eighty-three, and now we know Y/N’s generation born in eighty-six. There may have been others. We don’t know when he stopped creating his psychic kids. So any kid he visited after nineteen eighty-six would have the blood with no psychic connection.”

He shrugged. “So, we could be talking about dozens of immune people, potentially more, depending on when he stopped. There may be many people out there that are just like you, Y/N.”

Dean pulled Y/N into his side and shook his head. “No, there’s no one like Y/N.”

Cas seemed confused for a moment as though they simply hadn’t understood what he said. But Dean just shook his head again. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re right. We’ll have to try and figure out his system, how he did things, how and why he chose the kids he did. That’s gonna be a lot to try and search out. We should start figuring out how to go about researching with our very limited resources.”

Cas looked like he thought of something, opening his mouth to speak. But then he stopped himself and just nodded. “Yes, research.”

The three of them talked for a long time, going over thoughts and theories without coming to any firm conclusions.

Finally Emma let out a loud yawn, and Y/N wrapped her arm around Dean’s waist. “But Dean’s right. We’re not going to figure everything out right now. Small steps. We’re all snowed in here for a couple of months now, right? So, we can take that time to try and come up with a game plan for spring.”

The men both nodded and Cas moved towards the exit, but Dean called him back. “Wait, Cas.”

When the angel turned back to him, Dean took two long strides towards him and then pulled him into a one armed hug, trying not to bounce Emma too much as he was pounding him on the back.

“Thanks, man.” He said, his voice slightly rough. “For everything. And for…not giving up.”

The angel was obviously awkward with the show of affection, and just patted Dean on the shoulder. He was looking down at the ground as he answered him. “Actually, I gave up many times. I just couldn’t manage to stay given up.” He said with a shrug.

Dean chuckled. “Well, then thanks for not staying there.”

The angel nodded and left the tent.

Silence reigned for a moment before Y/N took a deep breath and then turned to her daughter. “Okay, baby, I think it’s time for you to actually go to sleep now.” She admonished her with a smile.

Emma pouted slightly, but then giggled as Dean tossed her gently into the air, and then swung her downward to let her feet touch the floor. He held the back of her head in his big hand as he kissed the top.

“Goodnight, kiddo.” He looked at Y/N. “You’re low on firewood, I’m gonna grab you some more.”

As Dean went out into the dark, Y/N tucked Emma back under her thick blankets. She leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and Emma's expression turned curious.

“Mommy, are you going to marry Dean?”

Y/N felt her jaw drop. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him now?”

Y/N shook her head. “Where is this coming from? Why are you asking?”

Emma shrugged her thin shoulders. “In the fairytales, after they kiss, they get married.”

Y/N just chuckled. “I don’t know baby, it’s way too early to think about that.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s nighttime.”

Y/N laughed happily. “Yes, it is.”

Emma’s expression cleared and she smiled shyly. “I like him.” She nodded as though confirming her own words. “Lots.”

Y/N booped her nose. “I like him lots too, baby.”

In fact, I’m madly in love with him. She admitted to herself and the feeling warmed her.

She’d known it for quite a while, and in fact she wondered whether she’d actually fallen in love with him when she was sixteen years old and he came to save her from the dark. It was entirely possible. But either way, she was completely in love with him now.

But she didn’t say any more to Emma, telling her goodnight one more time and then moving slowly around the tent, putting things away and straightening up the small space.

As she tidied, she worked to process everything, all the incredible information that had been relayed to her so quickly tonight. But the long term effects of Cas’ revelation made too many emotions and thoughts swirl around in her mind. It was a bit too much to contemplate at the moment, so she pushed it aside.

Instead she let her mind drift back to the memory of Dean’s kisses, before Cas had shown up. The way his lips had felt as they moved against her skin was lodged firmly in her memory and it made her sigh.

Her mind slid back to the way he’d touched her, the way his deft fingers had played her like an instrument. The memory of him pushing into her body, of how he’d so easily plucked pleasure from deep inside of her, had her biting her lip as wetness flooded her again.

Her excited reverie of Dean was interrupted as the man himself came back inside with an armful of firewood. He walked towards her, stopping short when he saw her heated expression as she looked up at him. A slow, knowing smile crossed his face.

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart.” He said. “Or, let me guess.” He moved to the box beside the stove and unloaded the wood before turning back to her and pulling her into his embrace.

His voice dropped low and quiet as he spoke into her ear. “Thinking about our time outside the tent?”

Y/N nodded, and then dropped her hand between their bodies to cup the slight bulge behind his zipper. “Yeah, I’m very sorry we got interrupted.” She whispered back. “I guess I owe you one.”

Dean growled quietly and she chuckled. He kissed her lightly, his lingering lips telling her that he wanted so much more. But he pulled back.

“Looking forward to it.” He said with a smirk. Then he sighed. “But for now, I should head back to my tent and let you get to sleep.” His voice and his expression were full of regret.

Y/N nodded and then shrugged. “Or…”

She thought of Emma asking about kissing and marriage and realized that they clearly weren’t actually hiding much from her. So she decided to just go for it.

“Or, you could stay the night here.”

She was quick to elaborate her offer when Dean’s eyes got wide. “I mean, we’d just be sleeping. But it would be nice to…” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “It would be nice to wake up with you.”

Dean nodded and lifted her chin with his forefinger so he could smile at her. “Yeah, it would.” He kissed her again softly and then glanced at the narrow cot. “Gonna be a tight fit.”

Y/N laughed and then pressed tight against him. “Well, guess we’ll just have to snuggle a bit then.”

Dean moaned softly. “Not sure if that’s an offer of heaven or hell.”

Y/N smiled wickedly. “Probably a bit of both.”

***

As winter settled heavily onto the camp and the snow grew higher everywhere, rotating groups of ten to twelve people per week were tasked with making sure the snow was shoveled from pathways and piled up safely and effectively against the tents to act as another layer of insulation from the wind.

The food boxes Brandy had suggested were a big hit; everyone already had to deal with freezing trips to the outhouses, so limiting more outside time was greatly appreciated.

For the most part people hunkered down in their tents, but there was one thing that brought folks out - The Mid-Winter Feast, as Y/N had dubbed it. She’d decided that before they had to fight through January, and most of February, always the harshest part of winter, they should have a little celebration of their community.

So, she’d asked Monique, Brandy and a few other interested campers to meet her at the main cabin, with the electrical heat turned on for an hour or so a day, so they could plan. In the beginning, they’d just been planning a small dinner - just people bringing some rations together to enjoy as a group. But as more people became involved, the celebration expanded.

The camp hunters offered to go out into the very cold surrounding forest and hunt down some kind of fresh meat. After a few days of hunting they returned with a half dozen rabbits, two geese and a young buck. So, there would be lots of rabbit stew, a couple roast geese and salted venison for the feast, with a bunch of leftovers too.

The elderly quilt-maker, Hannah, spent an afternoon giving a lesson to the kids (and a few adults as well) teaching them how to make small bannocks over the fire, which were then donated to the feast. All the campers also each donated two days worth of their vegetable rations so that everyone could have a feast of mashed potatoes, green beans and corn.

The camp builders chopped down a tree and brought it into the big cabin. It would eventually be firewood, but for now it was the star of the show. Y/N had the schoolkids take labels off of empty tin cans and fold them into stars as decorations for the tree, while the builders took the empty tin cans themselves, and cut them into wintery shapes like snowmen, sleds, and mittens. The metal was a bit dull, but it still added some shine to the tree when they were hung there.

When Y/N read to the kids in the cabin at the end of the week, parents and non-parents alike came in to listen to the stories while they stood at the tables and folded evergreen branches into boughs and wreaths.

Everyone pitched in, and soon the cabin looked incredible, draped in green and other bright colors.

The actual day of the feast was busy and happy. The rabbit stew was made in a big pot over a huge outdoor fire where the geese were also roasted, and soon the whole camp smelled like sizzling, delicious food.

Everyone carted chairs from their tents to the big cabin, trying to jam them all in. The grownups all managed to sit at the big tables lined up around the room, even though everyone was pressed in tight beside each other. But the kids table ended up being the floor at the base of the tree. But the kids sure didn’t seem to mind; they kept forgetting to eat while they chattered with each other loudly and looked up at the decorated tree with wide and wondering eyes.

Brandy and Y/N made sure that baskets of food were made up and taken out to the soldiers who were at their outposts making sure the camp stayed safe while everyone celebrated.

It was a truly incredible day, and when dinner was finished, and the food packed away safely, they all stayed in the cabin a few more hours, playing simple games like simon says or charades, or talking and laughing together, and just generally enjoying the company of other people before the cold mostly bound everyone to their tent for the next couple of months.

As the evening ended and people began heading for their tents, happily full and tired, Dean came back into the cabin, having gone out a bit earlier to check on his soldiers. He walked up to where Y/N sat with a sleeping Emma on her lap.

He smiled at them as he approached and in that moment Y/N felt a peace flood through her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously the world was still dangerous, and they still had so far to go before they were safe, but in that moment she felt completely happy.

When Dean got to them, he reached down to lift Emma out of Y/N’s lap and hold her in one arm, so he could reach his other hand out to Y/N. She clasped it tightly and they walked slowly back to their now shared tent.

As they walked along they could hear people calling out goodbyes to each other, as well as a continued murmur of conversations through the paths of tents. There was a sense of peace and happiness hanging over the whole camp.

Dean stopped in the middle of the path back to their red tent and turned to look down at Y/N. His face seemed awestruck and he shook his head.

“Last winter we all had to huddle in the cabin just to stay alive, and this year we were all crowded in there again, but this time we were actually living. People used to walk around the camp nervous every time I passed by. But now they smile.” He bent his head to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You’ve changed everything, sweetheart.”

Y/N blushed. “That isn’t because of me. The winter just hasn’t gotten too brutal yet this year, and everyone helped out with the feast. And if people are less nervous around you, that’s obviously because of you, not me.”

But Dean just shook his head. “No…it’s you.”

***

Six weeks later

“What are we doing here?” Y/N asked with a laugh as Dean finally let her open her eyes and she saw he'd led her to the garage.

Dean was smiling at her. “I wanted to show you something.”

He took her hand and led her around the side of the garage. As they came upon the black Impala that sat beside the building towards the back, Y/N gasped. Snow had been cleared away all around it, and the weeds and grasses that had overrun it had been pulled up. There was still some rust on the doors and the tires were still flat, but the cracked windshield had been replaced and it looked much spiffier than it had before.

The big, black beauty looked like she knew she was getting love again.

She looked at Dean as he brought her closer. “You've been working on her.”

Dean looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, just when I had a bit of spare time, so there's still lots to do. She still doesn’t have an engine, but I put in a new battery that lets me do this.“

He brought her to the driver's side door and opened it with a heavy creak. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, the moonlight glinting off the silver keychain. Then he leaned inside and pushed them into the ignition, turning them so that heat and radio turned on. Of course the radio had nothing but static, so Dean quickly turned it off.

Dean closed the front door to open the back and lifted a hand, inviting her to precede him into the back seat. She climbed into the soft leather seat, Dean following behind her. She could see the inside had been lovingly cleaned and restored.

“This is amazing!” Y/N said enthusiastically, her hand running over the buttery leather of the seat.

Dean nodded, looking around. “Yeah, gotta a lot of work left, obviously. But…”

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he took off his jacket. “It's good to be back with her.”

He caught Y/N's eye and his expression became teasing.

“Now let me show you the new feature I installed.” He reached past her shoulder where a thin blanket hung; it was more like a small sheet. He pulled it across the two passenger side windows and then did the same on the driver side. He leaned over the front seat and tucked the ends of the sheet into the visors in the front, effectively closing off the interior of the car, with only a thin strip of the windshield left uncovered.

Y/N laughed as he sat back down beside her. He raised a finger. “And my very favorite feature is this one.” He reached forward again and pushed down the door locks on the front doors before doing the same in the back.

He moaned softly as he leaned back into the seat. “Privacy, blessed privacy at last.”

Y/N was smiling wide as he looked over at her. The heat in his gaze made her blush and duck her head; his need was so raw and blatant it made her stomach clench and wetness pool at her core.

The last six weeks had indeed been both heaven and hell. It had been too cold to go outside very often, so they were mostly left inside the tent, where their touching and kissing was very limited. Stolen moments here and there were simply, not nearly enough.

So to finally be somewhere they could be together, privately with a lock on the door…

Y/N bit her lip. “You said you asked Monique to watch Emma?” Dean nodded. “For how long?”

“Hours. At least. There was talk of a sleepover.” He answered roughly.

Y/N felt her heart beat double time as she watched Dean. The set of his jaw was harsh as he leaned over to pull her easily into his lap so she straddled him. Y/N braced herself against his wide shoulders as he reached up to suck on her pulse point.

He pushed her jacket off of her shoulders and then shoved up her t-shirt so he could cup her breasts through her bra. His voice was a rattling groan.

“Ah, fuck sweetheart, you’re so goddamn perfect.” He murmured as he laid nibbling kisses along the tops of her breasts. Y/N was quickly overwhelmed with her need for him, but she tried to find her breath and form thoughts, so she could tell him something.

But then he thoroughly distracted her as he pushed the cups of her bra up, freeing her breasts so he could push them together and bury his face in the cleavage. He licked and sucked at her skin, teeth scraping and biting as his big hands squeezed one breast and then the other. Y/N lost her thoughts completely as he reached between her legs and pushed at the soft material of her sweats and leggings, pressing them against her soaked core.

He pushed his hand under her waistband, not stopping until he buried his fingers deep inside her. His invasion was so sudden and forceful Y/N cried out loudly as her walls clenched tightly around his thick fingers.

He grunted against her lips before biting her bottom one and tugging on it. Y/N let out a gasp and ground down against his hand. Dean swore and pumped his fingers into her faster and rougher, adding a third and stretching her. The mostly pleasurable sting of the stretch reminded her of what she wanted to tell him and she laid a hand on his wrist where it disappeared into her pants.

“I have…have to tell you something.”

Dean stilled the movements of his hand, but kept licking and nibbling on her breasts. “What?” He asked in a rough voice.

“I um…I think I might…” He sucked hard on her nipple and she ground down against his hand again. He resumed his movements, pumping in and out of her fast and hard. He found her sweet spot and pressed against it, making her fall forward onto him, burying her face in the side of his neck and rambling out the end of her sentence.

“I think I might suck at this.”

Dean stopped moving all together and his breath left him in a whoosh as he pulled back from Y/N and pushed against her shoulder so he could look her in the eye. His brow was furrowed in complete confusion.

“What?” He asked, his breathing rough.

Y/N was embarrassed. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.” She reached for his mouth, but Dean turned away and shook his head.

“No, explain what you mean.” He said as he pulled his fingers out of her body. Y/N groaned.

“No, I don’t want you to stop.” She pulled his hand back so he was cupping her wet heat through her clothes. “Please don’t stop. I just…wanted to, I don’t know, warn you I guess.”

She shrugged. “So you could limit your expectations.”

Dean was staring at her and his expression was incredulous. “Why on earth would you think that? What would make you believe that?”

Y/N shrugged again, embarrassed and wishing more than anything that she had just kept quiet. “It’s just…well, it’s been a long time.” Her face was bright red. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been dating. The last guy I was with was Emma’s father and….”

She swallowed thickly. “...and he was also my first, so…I have, I mean I don’t have a lot of experience. And I got the feeling that…well that he didn’t really like what I was doing.”

She couldn’t look at Dean as she spoke, staring at his neck instead. But Dean called her name softly and she slowly looked back up at him. In contrast to his gentle voice, his expression was fierce, and his eyes were blazing.

“Listen to me carefully. There is no possible way for you to be bad at this.” Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but Dean pressed a finger to her lips. “No. There’s no argument to be had here. The facts are simple, you are stunningly beautiful, sexy as hell, and you make my whole fucking body hard.”

She rolled her hips against him with a slight smile and he groaned.

“God damn woman, I’ve wanted you since that first day I took you to the river and you came out screeching and covered in leeches.” He grinned.

Y/N batted his arm. “You weren’t supposed to be looking.”

His grin turned wolfish as he pulled her t-shirt off completely and unhooked her bra to toss it into the front seat. “Well, I was. And what I was looking at hasn’t left my mind since.”

He trailed the calloused pads of his fingers down the soft sides of her breasts. “You’re so perfect, Y/N and I want you so much. The way you respond to my touch,” he tweaked her nipple and she gasped, “it’s what I dream about. And I can’t get the taste of you off my tongue.”

He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth down to him, and sucking her tongue into his mouth. He trailed kisses down her neck, inhaling deeply. “And fuck, when you’re not near me, I can still smell your scent on my clothes. And I get so hard thinking about you that it actually hurts.”

He pressed her hand against his straining cock and Y/N whimpered slightly. She caught his gaze as she reached for his zipper and he nodded, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as she reached into his pants to caress him. Holding his breath, Dean lifted his hips so he could push down his jeans and underwear, giving her complete access to him.

She held him in her fist tentatively. “Can I…um…”

Dean responded to her truncated sentence quickly. “Yes. Whatever you were going to ask, the answer is yes.” She squeezed him slightly and he groaned harshly. “Yes, please.” He added in a harsh whisper.

Feeling bold and confident now, she slipped down to the floor, her knees scraping against the rough floor mat beneath her. She began placing kisses up and down his rock hard shaft. Then she licked the slit at the tip of his cock before taking the whole head of his dick into her mouth and sucking hard. Dean slammed his head back against the seat and pushed his fingers into her hair, guiding her head as she bobbed up and down.

She pushed as far as she could, until he was at the back of her throat. Then she pulled off him with a gasp, but went right back, getting him further down her throat the second time, and working the base of his cock with a tight fist. Drool and cum dripped down his shaft, lubricating him, and she used it as she pumped him.

Finally Dean tugged on her hair gently and shook his head. “Fuck, Y/N, you gotta stop, sweetheart. I'm gonna come, and I've waited way too long for the chance to be inside you, to move in you and feel your tight, sweet pussy clench around me, feel it pull me into your heat.”

Y/N moaned at his incredibly hot words, and came off of his cock with a pop. Dean helped her up from the floorboards and when she was mostly upright, he yanked down her pants and underwear. They got caught up in her boots and she stumbled back onto Dean’s lap, laughing, her feet tied together. But she was too impatient to try and get her boots unlaced and off, so she just left them. But she tugged his t-shirt up and off of him, kissing a path across his chest.

She held the base of his cock steady as she rose to her knees and lined him up at her entrance. Both of them groaned in unison as she sank down on him slowly. He was so big it made Y/N bite her lip as he stretched her with the same slight sting she’d felt on his fingers. But it was so worth it; the way he filled her so completely made her breathing extremely harsh as she began to rock against him.

Dean pulled her back down to his mouth so he could kiss all the air out of her lungs as she rode him. He slipped one hand down between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her clit, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders as she held on tightly.

The coil in her lower abdomen was getting tighter and tighter as he pressed so perfectly against her. Finally he pulled her nipple into his mouth again, sucking hard and Y/N tumbled wildly over the edge. She slammed her hips up and down on him as she rode out the climax.

Dean pulled away from her breast and grabbed onto her hips, taking over their rhythm, lifting her up and slamming her down against him as she faltered and fell onto his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, jackhammering into her tight sheath, and once again swirled his middle finger around her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna feel you clutch me tight one more time, just one more.”

Y/N’s head spun with pleasure and she sat up and then leaned back, resting her hands behind her on his thighs. The new angle had him hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. It didn’t take long to send her spinning into another climax; this time when she fell, Dean fell with her, bending forward to nip and lick at the valley between her breasts as he bucked up into her, spending every drop of himself.

Finally he rested his forehead against her sternum and just breathed hot and panting against her damp skin. There was no need for the curtains now, every window was covered in condensation and impossible to see through.

Slowly their breathing returned to normal and Dean wrapped them both up in his jacket. The heat in the car was on, but it was still just late February, and the air was cold on their overheated skin.

They shifted slightly so that Dean was leaning back in the seat and Y/N rested against his chest. She loved the feel of him inside her, even soft, and she wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Dean pushed her hair back from her temple and kissed her there. His breathing was still a bit rough as he spoke.

“Would you care to tell me again how you think you’re bad at this?” Y/N chuckled and Dean shook his head. “Guy was a fucking idiot, obviously.”

Y/N just nodded. After a moment, Dean kissed her forehead. “What happened there, with him? Emma’s father, I mean. Where is he now?”

Y/N sat up slightly and shook her head. “I have no idea. He was gone long before the world ended. Pretty much as soon as the stick turned pink.”

Dean kissed her softly. “Asshole.” He said simply and Y/N nodded again, smiling and laying back against Dean’s chest.

They dozed there gently for a while until there was suddenly a light tapping on the front passenger's side window. They both jolted awake and Dean groaned.

“What?” He called out angrily.

It was Johnston who answered. “I’m so sorry to bug you, sir, but I was told Y/N was here. It’s Emma, she’s hurt.”

***

By the time they got dressed, turned off the car and ran to the medical tent, it was already quite full of people. Monique, Keisha and Julianne were there and both little girls were crying. Brandy and Theresa were there too. Patrick, who'd been an EMT before the end came, and who therefore acted as the camp medic when needed, was standing close to where Emma sat on a folding table that was covered in a sheet.

Her daughter’s big blue eyes were swimming in tears and as she saw Y/N enter she began crying in earnest, reaching her left arm out towards her, while she held the right one close to her body. Y/N could see that her right arm was bent at an odd angle.

Broken.

Her stomach twisted and she felt a bit sick as she looked at it. But she walked up to Emma and pulled her tight against her. “Oh, baby, what happened?”

Monique stepped forward, her face awash in guilt. “I’m so sorry Y/N. The girls were all playing together just outside the tent, while Brandy and I were talking. We’d left a flap open and we could see them. But it just happened so quick we couldn’t stop it.”

Brandy took over the story. “They were all taking turns sitting on Theresa’s back and she was riding them around like a pony, and Emma just took a tumble off her back and…and then just started crying. We got her over here as fast as possible.”

Monique covered her mouth with her fingers. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She repeated. But Y/N just shook her head.

“Oh, Monique, no, it isn't your fault. Or anyones.” She said looking at Theresa whose face was ashen and also wore a look of guilt. Y/N kissed Emma’s forehead. “Accidents just happen.”

But Emma’s little shoulders still shook with quiet sobs and Y/N felt awful for her baby girl. Patrick started to lift her arm slightly and Emma let out a painful cry. Dean stepped up behind Patrick, and his voice was hard with authority.

“Be careful what you’re doing.” He scolded.

Patrick just nodded. “Yes sir. I just need to try and figure out how the bone is broken, so I can splint it properly.”

As the medic/soldier poked and prodded as gently as he could, Emma continued to cry and buried her face in Y/N’s chest. Accepting that his soldier was being as careful as he could, Dean stopped hovering over him and moved around to stand behind Emma instead, rubbing soothing circles over her skinny back.

Finally Patrick nodded. “I think it’s a greenstick fracture. I’m gonna get a splint to hold it in place.”

He walked away to a sideboard that had medical paraphernalia sitting on it. As he did, however, Cas walked into the tent. Y/N looked up at the angel, and was taken aback by the way he was staring at Emma. His expression was cautious and a little frightened as he approached her.

“It’s a broken arm.” Y/N explained and he just nodded.

“Emma,” he said quietly, “hold still okay. I think,” he glanced at Y/N and then Dean, “I think I can fix you.”

“Cas?” Dean asked, clearly confused.

The angel lifted his hand over Emma’s arm and for a moment it just looked like he was going to grab hold of it. But suddenly, a white light began to grow beneath his palm and his already blue eyes glowed bright, like blue flame.

Y/N held her breath, as seconds later, the light left his eyes and he pulled his hand away. Emma’s eyes became wide and then she clapped happily. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mommy!”

Y/N tried to smile at her daughter, but her eyes fell on Cas, and Dean asked the question uppermost in her mind.

“What the hell, Cas? Since when can you heal anymore?” He shook his head. “What…what does this mean?”

Cas’ face was serious, and the fear Y/N had seen before was still there as he answered.

“I’m afraid that…I think it means the other angels have returned.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean x reader #endverse!dean #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #endverse!dean fan fic #endverse!dean series #spn fan fic series

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deancasbigbang · 8 months

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Title: Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

Author: angelofthequeers

Artist: eggchef

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Cas, background Sam/Eileen, Dean/OMC (one-sided under a spell), very brief mentions of past Dean/OMC

Length: 22000

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Transphobia (both internalised and external) Homophobia (in the past, from John including the f-slur) Dubious consent

Tags: Episode AU: s15e18 Despair, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Human Castiel, Mind Control, Trans Dean Winchester, Smut

Posting Date: October 23, 2023

Summary: They've beaten this plot point to death, dancing around each other and wallowing in miscommunication and things unsaid. So why should this time be any different? Oh, yeah. Because Chuck's gone. And Cas is human now, all thanks to Dean. Surely this whole miscommunication won't backfire on them when they take on what seems to be a shifter case involving people killing their lover and then themselves. Surely not.

Excerpt: “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” is all Dean’s voice can say. He already knows the answer before Cas ever opens his mouth. “Because it is.” No. Don’t. Dean opens his mouth but before he can stop Cas – “I love you.” Dean shakes his head madly. Take it back! Take it back! he’s tempted to shriek like a child. But take-backsies doesn’t exist for this. For…that. THUD. “Don’t do this, Cas.” Dean’s voice hitches. But then there’s a wet sound, a chittering, and Dean already knows before he turns what he’s going to see: a mass of black goo squeezing itself between the bricks, sighing into existence, ready to take the one person who’s seen Dean at his lowest, at his ugliest, and chosen time and time again to stay, to believe in him, to… I love you. I love you. Don’t do this. SLAM. The door finally bursts open and Billie stalks into the room, murder glinting in her eyes. “Cas…” Cas rests his bloody hand on Dean’s shoulder. His left shoulder. The handprint shoulder. Dean gasps in a breath. “Goodbye, Dean.” Dean shakes his head wordlessly. Cas tenses, like he’s about to throw Dean away, discard him like everyone else who’s ever loved him, but Dean grabs the lapels of Cas’ trench coat. He squeezes. He shakes his head again. “No,” he forces out. “Don’t leave me. Please.” Cas doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with that tearful smile that makes Dean want to punch him in his stupid, handsome face and Dean scrambles for some way – any way – to keep Cas here, to save him from the Empty…to make him stay. “Let me come with you,” Dean begs in a twisted mockery of Cas’ plea before he’d gone to face Amara. “I’ll come with you, Cas.” “No.” Cas shakes his head. “You can’t. Humans don’t belong in the Empty. And even if you could come, I wouldn’t let you. I’m saving you, Dean.” Humans don’t belong in the Empty. The rejection stings, burns like alcohol on a fresh cut, ensuring that Dean knows damn well that he’s never been able to follow Cas like Cas has followed him. All he’s ever been able to do is keep Cas with him, except for all the times Cas had flown off on him. Typical flighty angel, always spreading his wings, taking flight, leaving Dean in the dust – Dean freezes. His breath crystallises in his chest. Could he…would it…does he dare to hope… “Humans don’t belong in the Empty.” “Dean?” Cas tilts his head, still smiling. Something slithers behind Dean, chitters in his ear, rasps in the air, and he draws a deep, rattling breath into his porcelain lungs. “I’m sorry, Cas,” he chokes.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2023 #fic preview #2023 promo #deancas #destiel

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jinkieswouldyoulookatthis · 9 months

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Make a Wish

This fic was inspired by The Time Dean was Sam’s Girlfriend by fleshflutter on LiveJournal

This is it! The thing I've been working on writing all year. It's finally done!

Dean and Jessica share a birthday, so what would happen if they both made birthday wishes at the same time that caused them to swap bodies? The inspiration story was fluffy and silly and adorable, but what if things were more explicit? Like, way more explicit?

This is a gender-bending body swap fic were the characters' sexual partners do not know who is actually inhabiting the body they are having sex with, so it's non-con. It's a bit of a dead dove, so if you don't think you'd be okay with the tags, please don't read. If you do read, I hope you enjoy it!

Relationships: Dean/Sam, Sam/Jessica, Jessica/omc

Warnings: Non-Con resulting from body swap situation and characters not making good choices

Read on AO3

Words: 14,476

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 24th, 2004

If anyone had ever tried to tell Dean that he would be spending his 25th birthday alone in some dive bar off the highway somewhere between Bumfuck and Podunk, middle America, he would have said that sounded about right. Especially after the last few years. Being alone had become, more and more, par for the course.

His dad, increasingly absent, which was fucking saying something when you considered John Winchester’s stellar trackrecord in that particular department, had been off on a solo hunt for a week now. Before heading out, he’d tasked Dean with a simple salt ‘n’ burn, a milk run that had taken all of a day and a half to complete. So now Dean was expected to just sit here, in this rest stop that was pretending to be a town, and fucking wait.

Dean hated waiting. Waiting gave you too much time to think, even though he had nothing good to think about, and thinking like that got you into trouble.

It was a Saturday night and, other than Dean, there were only four other people in the bar, three other patrons who all looked to be well into their fifties and the bartender, who was a decently handsome guy, probably did well enough with the ladies, but he had a beard and skinny jeans that gave off hipster vibes that made Dean decide right off the bat that he didn’t particularly like the guy.

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and flipped it open with his thumb. The screen lit up, his thumb hovered over the button that would pull up his contacts. Once again, Sam hadn’t bothered to call him on his birthday and the urge to give his brother shit about it was strong.

Eight months.

He flipped the phone shut and sat it on the surface of the bar to the right of his beer, and tapped his ring against it twice, the silver making a satisfying clink against the hard plastic. It’d been eight months since they’d spoken.

Dean had called on Sam’s birthday, no answer, so he’d left a message, “Happy Birthday, Bitch. Call sometime, let me know you’re still alive.”

It’d taken almost another month before he’d worked up the nerve, which was almost entirely worry-fueled anger at that point, to call again. It only rang twice.

“Dean?”

Fear that had been slowly choking him from the inside let go all at once, replaced just as suddenly by irritation. “So you are alive.”

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t called you back. I’ve been drowning in finals.”

“Yeah right, you know you aced ‘em.” He could hear Sam smile, without him saying anything, and that should have made things better but it really didn’t. But they’d shot the shit for a bit, conversation light and barely surface deep, a shallow script whose only consolation was the reassurance that Sam was okay, better even, he sounded like he was thriving. A weird lump suddenly formed in Dean’s throat. “Hey, I gotta go, but happy belated.”

“Oh? Okay, thanks.”

“Later. Hey? Pick up the damn phone sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

That had been in June. Neither of them had reached out since. He gave the phone a spin on the heavily varnished wood, set it twirling in place like a top before reaching for his beer. One long pull and it was drained.

“‘Nother one?” The bartender asked as Dean sat the empty bottle down.

“You know what? Fuck it, it’s my birthday, let’s step it up to bourbon.”

“Birthday, huh? And you’re lucky enough to be drinking here?” There was a barely restrained chuckle at the end.

“Yep.” Dean said with a little extra pop at the end of the word.

“Damn.” The bartender said as he turned and selected a bottle, grabbed a glass, and was back pouring two fingers of amber liquid with practiced ease. “This one’s on the house, birthday boy.”

Dean’s face lit up in a genuine, if somewhat rueful smile, “Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and busied himself further down the bar.

Dean slowly swirled the glass a few times. “Yeah.” he said, quietly, “Happy birthday.” Looking down at his phone again, he raised the glass to his lips and took a drink. He closed his eyes as the smokey, thick burn chased a wish for something out of reach down his throat.

A wave of vertigo crashed over him, so sudden and hard that he was glad he’d been sitting down. Even though he’d watched him pour the drink, the idea that maybe the bartender had drugged him suddenly seemed like a very real possibility.

Wait, why did he smell candle smoke? Shit, was he having a stroke or something?

He opened his eyes and had to grab onto the edge of the table to steady himself as his legs threatened to give out. Bar and barstool were gone, replaced with a house and a small dining table. The room he was now in was full of people looking at him with bright smiles, who all started clapping and cheering as soon as he opened his eyes. Smoke curled up from a forest of little, thin candles sticking out of a flowery cake on the table right in front of him that had, “Happy Birthday, Jessica!” written on it in fancy, blue, cursive icing.

There was a flurry of movement to his left and a pair of pretty brunettes started cutting into the cake and passing slices around. Everyone was smiling and laughing and acting incredibly… normal, like nothing weird had just happened.

Something moved way too close to Dean’s face and he flinched and tried to swat it away. As he touched it, he froze, eyes fixed on his fingers and the lock of long, wavy, blonde hair that tugged on his scalp as he tried to get it away from him. Long blonde hair that was being held not by his own fingers but by delicate, slender, fingers with nails painted pale pink, all glossy and graceful and… soft.

To say it was disconcerting would have been the understatement of all time. He was looking at a hand that was very obviously not his own, but that moved and felt as if it were. He gave another tug to the lock of hair, harder this time, and although it didn’t exactly hurt, it was definitely attached to his head, not a wig or anything like that. He brushed it back and confirmed he now had a full head of hair that came down way past his shoulders.

Chick hands, chick hair… his eyes went wide and he looked down his chest and stared right into cleavage.

He had tits!?

“Oh fuck.” he said in a chick’s voice.

“Hey?” A warm touch to his upper arm caused Dean to turn and look right into the throat of a massive guy standing behind him. Tilting his head back to look up he was met with bright eyes and a dimpled smile that he knew better than his own reflection.

“Sam?”

“Happy Birthday, Jess.” That smile, still sweet but with a gleam, a glint that Dean hadn’t seen since they were both teenagers. One of Sam’s hands came up, jesus he had big hands, and gently brushed along Dean’s jawline, thumb sweeping his cheek as long fingers slipped into his hair behind his ear. Sam’s gaze held Dean’s focus as he leaned down.

Had Sam gotten even taller?

Everything was moving in slow motion, Dean couldn’t feel his heart beating, wasn’t breathing, but his mind was spinning, scrambling to sort through way too much information, too much change, just too much, way too fast. So perhaps it was understandable that he didn’t react in time to pull back.

Just a fleeting, Oh fuck, before their lips met and Dean’s heart leapt into action like he’d been shocked awake. Sam was warm and familiar, but the way he pressed and pulled at Dean’s bottom lip, just a promising hint of more, made a small noise escape Dean’s throat that didn’t sound at all like disgust, like it should have.

Someone wolf whistled loudly nearby, eliciting another round of clapping and cheers from the crowd and Sam pulled back, twin spots of red blazing on his cheeks. He laughed in a way that Dean hadn’t seen in ages, playful and easy and open, as he glanced around at these people who were obviously his friends. A spark of something anxious twisted up in his chest. Dean blinked a few times, licked his lips, and swallowed, winded like he’d just sprinted up a hill too fast.

“Get it, Winchester!” a guy hooted from somewhere behind Dean.

“That’s real mature, Brady.” Sam said, his hand sliding down Dean’s shoulder and the back of his arm, coming to rest low on his back, fingertips brushing against the strip of bare skin between his top and skirt. The skirt thing was weird… drafty, but the warm press of Sam’s fingers sent little static sparks through him and a blush heated his cheeks, spread down his chest, and he was once again very aware of the fact that he currently had boobs… and a pussy instead of a dick.

This was bad, his mind raced like a cartoon character running in place before his thoughts finally caught traction with the ground and lunged forward. He wasn’t him, wasn’t in his own body. He was somehow in the body of Sam’s girlfriend?

Of all the bodies in all the world, I had to end up in this one?

But Sam hadn’t kissed him, he’d kissed his girlfriend, who’s birthday just happened to be the same as Dean’s? Which was… okay, yeah, that was weird as fuck. But she’d obviously just blown out the candles on her cake, which would have been the same time that he’d had swallowed down his own wishful thoughts.

Shit. He swallowed again. Shit, shit, shit.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be right back.” He said, trying not to show how unsettled he was at sounding like a chick, reminding himself that he looked like a chick, sort of was one right now. He took a breath, and told himself to play it calm and poker face the situation.

“You okay?” Sam asked, his eyes squinting slightly the way they did when he was concerned, or getting suspicious, his thumb rubbing against Dean’s skin, sending those sparks flying all through him again.

Oh, so not good. This is bad.

“Yeah, good, I just need to go to the bathroom.” Dean smiled as he felt for pockets in the clothes he was wearing, but found none. Where would she keep her cellphone? “Did you see where I put my purse?”

“Yeah, it’s right over there.” Sam looked at an end table by the sofa in the adjoining room.

“Thanks!” Dean said as he broke away from Sam and grabbed the purse.

Taking stock of his surroundings, it looked like they were in a two-story house. It was a little worn and run down, but decorated in a way that practically screamed college kids lived here. Probably a rental near campus, it had that vibe. It was also older, which meant that the bathroom was likely upstairs. He unzipped the purse as he went up the stairs, and thanked whatever luck he had that there was a little flip phone tucked inside. He found the bathroom and was punching in his number as he closed the door.

~~~

“Happy Birthday, tooooooo, yooooouuuuuuuuu!!!!”

Jessica thought of a wish and blew out the candles on her cake, then blinked and started coughing at a sudden burning in her throat. She must have inhaled the candle smoke. While her eyes were closed the room gave a lurch and she was suddenly sitting down.

A loud solid thunk made her flinch as she opened her eyes. Dark amber liquid sloshed in a thick bottomed glass that had just dropped onto a heavily varnished wood bartop a few inches below an outstretched man’s hand in front of her. Whiskey and the lingering, stale ashtray smell of old cigarette smoke hit her all at once. Looking quickly to her right, to see who had dropped the glass, she found that the man's arm that was connected to the hand that’d dropped the glass, was attached to her?

“What the…?” The voice that came out was not hers. It wasn’t even close. It was a man’s voice, with a timbre that resonated deep in her chest. She covered her mouth with her hand but then immediately jerked her hand away at the feel of a man’s fingers touching her lips and the feel of scratchy stubble against her fingertips. Her mouth tasted like whiskey, that’s what was burning in her throat, like she’d just taken a drink from the glass in front of her.

She looked down at herself and saw a broad, flat chest filling out an oversized leather jacket with a thermal shirt underneath, and long, muscular, denim-clad legs. Her hands were thicker, wider, than they should be, with short-trimmed nails, and a few scrapes and scabbed cuts across the knuckles.

Over the sound of Guns ’n’ Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle she could hear a couple of voices talking not too far away. She looked around. She was in some ratty, hole-in-the-wall bar that smelled like a lifetime of regret and spilled beer. There were only a few other people. An older couple that looked like they’d probably gotten here on a Harley, were sitting down the bar to her left, they were the ones talking, but they weren’t close enough for Jess to hear what they were saying. And there was a middle-aged guy who looked like he might be a trucker way down off to her right. He was drinking a Budwiser and staring into space, lost in his own thoughts. There was also a bartender busying himself with restocking the bar. He was probably in his mid-20’s, with a neatly trimmed beard, blue plaid flannel shirt that was buttoned up but not tucked into his well-fitting, black jeans that were rolled into wide cuffs above hiking boots. She watched him move some bottles around on the shelf along the wall and realized that there was a mirror there that ran the entire length of the bar.

Slowly standing and looking ahead into the mirror, she watched as a guy stood up and stared back at her. He had short, sandy brown hair, spiked a little in the front, and big light colored eyes. The dim lighting and collection of various neon in the room made it hard to tell if they were blue, gray, or green, but they were wide. He looked like he was also in his 20’s, handsome, really handsome, but no one she’d ever seen before. She raised her hand and watched as the guy in the reflection did too. She touched her face… his face? He mirrored the movement.

“What the hell?” She said, in a voice that seemed to fit the reflection.

“Everything okay, man?”

It took a few seconds to realize that the bartender was looking at her, that he’d been speaking to her.

“Uh?” What in the hell was happening? Was she dreaming? Was this some weird hallucination? A byproduct of having a stroke? Had she somehow fallen and hit her head? “I don’t know…”

The bartender’s brow furrowed. “Something wrong with the drink?”

She looked down at the glass again. Should she say anything? Say something to get some help? What would she say? Her heart was racing. Maybe she should slow down, take a minute before letting the looming panic take over. “No, it’s uh, it’s fine, it’s good. I’m good. Um, how long have I been here?”

“I don’t know, maybe about an hour.” He poured water in a glass and sat it down in front of her, next to the whiskey. “I know the bourbon here isn’t that great,” he shrugged and gestured around as if that explained it, “maybe take it easy?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m okay. Just had a weird… um sort of deja vu thing for a minute there.”

He nodded at her and moved away down the bar again.

Okay, something is going on, but it’ll be okay, I can figure this out, she thought as she sat back down on the stool. That’s when she noticed the hard press of a wallet in one of her pockets. Pulling it out and flipping it open revealed a driver’s license with her reflection’s photo on it.

“James Page, huh?” She said quietly to herself as she looked through the rest of the wallet. There were a few credit cards, about a hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and a condom… classy. She looked at the ID again, it listed his birthday as 01-24-1979, “What?”

Okay, so today was also his birthday. That felt too coincidental to be a coincidence.

Absently, she took a drink of water. If this was a dream, it was the most mundanely detailed dream she’d ever had, the water tasted like chlorinated tap water. She started to pull one of the credit cards out when a cell phone sitting on the bar in front of her, had that been sitting there this whole time, started to ring with an obnoxious metal guitar riff. She grabbed it up and looked at the caller ID. It was her own cell number!

Quickly answering she said, “Hello?”

“Please tell me your name is Jessica.” a woman’s voice said.

“Um…”

“My name is De… uh… James Page, that’s my phone you’re talking on, please tell me that you’re Jessica Moore?”

It sounded weird when heard from the wrong end of a phone call, but she recognized her own voice speaking back to her.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me… what’s happening?”

The woman on the other end of the phone gave a loud sigh before continuing. “Thank god, it’s just a straight swap. Okay, so, this would normally sound really unbelievable, but you already seem kinda freaked so I’m guessing you’ve noticed that we seem to have switched bodies.”

“But, I mean how is that, how is this even possible?” Her heart was pounding in her ears. This is crazy, it’s crazy…

“Did you make a wish when you blew out your birthday candles, Jessica?”

“What? Why is that important?”

“Well, you see, today is my birthday too. Happy Birthday by the way. And I uh, I made a wish right before I opened my eyes in your body. So I’m wondering, since I know you’d just blown out the candles on your cake, did you make a wish too?”

“I… I did, yeah.”

“Okay, good. What did you wish for, exactly?”

She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to her conversation before replying. “I wished I knew more about my boyfriend’s family.”

“Huh. Okay. Who’s, uh, who’s your boyfriend? What’s his name?”

“Sam… Winchester. Do you know him?”

There was a slight pause. “No. But I’m guessing he’s the really tall guy, soulful eyes, needs a haircut?”

“He doesn’t… I like his hair, but, yeah I guess that sounds like him.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Wait, what did you wish for?”

There was a longer pause before James continued, “To find someone I haven’t seen in a while. I dunno maybe they’re around here somewhere? Where am I?”

“Palo Alto. Uh, that’s in California. Sorry, maybe you already knew that. Where am I?”

“Missouri, kinda middle of nowhere honestly. Sorry about that. Look this may not have anything to do with our specific wishes, right? Maybe things just got mixed up because we both made wishes at the exact same time? I don’t really know how all this Freaky Friday stuff works. But with any luck it’s temporary and everything will be back to normal tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How is this even real?”

“I don’t know. Look, there’s a set of car keys in my right front pocket, they’re to a black ‘67 Chevy Impala parked out front. It’s an automatic, can you drive?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, good. If you turn right out of the parking lot, go about a mile down the road to the Sleep EZ Motel, I’m checked into room 12. The room key is in my other pocket. My stuff is already inside and the room is paid up until the end of the week, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Just don’t hurt my car and don’t get me killed, okay?”

“Wait, that’s it? I’m just supposed to wait?”

“Unless you’ve got any other bright ideas?”

“What about Sam? My friends? What are you going to do?”

“Hopefully? Nothing. I’ll pretend to be you, promise not to get you hurt or screw up your life, okay? And like I said, with any luck this’ll all sort itself out in the morning.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Well, I guess we’ll deal with that tomorrow.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Hey, Jessica?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

~~~

Dean hung up the call and deleted it from the phone’s call history. When this was all over, the last thing he wanted was for there to be any way for this to get traced back to him. He tucked the phone back in Jessica’s purse and looked in the mirror.

She was a hottie, Sammy had good taste. Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, full pouty lips, and with a body… Dean gave a quiet whistle. Then he looked around furtively, as if anyone else could see him in the bathroom and somehow suspect him of doing something pervy, but then he thought, fuck it, possession is 9/10ths of the law, right?

Biting his bottom lip and pulling his shirt up, exposing a lacy bra and a really nice set of tits. Cupping them with his hands, feeling their weight, massaging them a bit and feeling his nipples get hard in response was hot enough but looking in the mirror was almost too much, like watching porn that you could actually feel. Until he caught his own stare, the face of some girl that he’d just spoken to on the phone looking back at him, and it hit home that this was someone else’s body that he was a guest in.

“Ah, shit.” he said to the reflection and pulled the shirt back down, smoothed it into place. He looked down, thinking about how weird it felt to not have a dick. He looked at the toilet reflected behind him. Maybe he should at least try to pee while he was in here.

“Sorry, Jessica, but somehow I don’t think either of us is going to be able to avoid peeing all night.” It took him longer than he'd anticipated, what’s so hard about peeing after all, but there was the confusing clothing and then the wiping, and new sensations that came with that, which he definitely tried to not pay too much attention to, and then the readjustment of the clothing.

When he was done and verified in the mirror that he looked normal, you know, for being someone completely different, he took a step towards the door and froze with his hand on the doorknob.

Okay, you can do this. Just go downstairs and pretend to be a girl. How hard can that be? Just go pretend to be Sam’s girlfriend. He’s only, like, the smartest guy you’ve ever known, who’s been trained since he was a kid to notice when a situation isn’t right, when someone isn’t themselves, when they’re actually a monster… Fuck.

He took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. No, it’s cool. You’re cool. You can do this. You’ve bluffed your way through more dangerous situations with less information to go off of. And Jessica told you enough to fake it for one night. It’s just one night…

“Jess,” Sam was looking at him when he came down the stairs, his face lit up despite a shadow of concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Dean smiled and walked towards him.

As he got within reach, Sam wrapped one arm around Dean and pulled him in snug against his side. Then Sam leaned in and kissed the top of his head, just like Dean used to do before Sam had the audacity to get taller than him. Dean didn’t need to fake his smile but then a wave of guilt threatened to well up, he thinks you’re her, and he had to look down, swallowing thickly. Sam gently squeezed him in a one armed hug.

When they were kids, Sam had been very touchy-feely, clingy, always in close contact with Dean, casual, almost unconscious, but now, unlike then, it seemed a lot less casual. Heat, of a sort that wasn’t just physical, flared up with every touch. And Dean could have convinced himself that it was just Jessica’s body responding in a sort of pavlovian way to a still newish lover. But the problem was, Dean knew better.

Sam’s hands were huge and gentle and warm, so fucking warm, against his side, Jessica’s side, his arm, her arm, his back, not his, his hip… It was maddening but he just needed to play along, like it wasn’t destroying him. Over the years Dean had fine tuned his resolve to push all of this away and shut it up behind a door marked “Stuff You Don’t Get to Have", and now, with a series of simple touches, Sam had unknowingly jimmied the lock and opened the door. Sam was always so good at opening doors.

The summer between Sam’s junior and senior years of high school, before the Stanford bomb had been dropped on their lives, John had been chasing down yet another lead on what had killed mom. Dean had no idea what it was, where he went, because he’d given him practically no information, which was beyond frustrating, but kinda par for the course. But John had left them with Bobby because it had been on his way, apparently.

While they were there, Dean helped Bobby fix cars, and what they couldn’t fix, they’d strip down for parts. Sam had gotten a job at a restaurant washing dishes. It was grueling in the heat and he’d be reeking of garbage from taking out the trash at the end of the night. But Dean would always be there, waiting to drive him back to Bobby’s. He’d have a cold beer open and waiting for Sam when he was showered and in clean clothes. More often than not, they’d watch a movie on the tv, choosing from Bobby’s collection of vhs tapes. They’d take over Bobby’s couch, sprawling and slowly gravitating towards each other, leaning together and laughing over what they were watching. They kept their voices quiet so as to not wake Bobby, who inevitably fell asleep in his armchair or was already up in bed. Sam had been more relaxed and at ease than he had been in a couple of years.

Life was simple and Dean felt just about as free as he could ever remember feeling, without the weight of expectations, there in that safe place and time.

When John came back he was short-tempered and easily bristled. Things between John and Sam, always rough, had gotten steadily worse. John was harder on them both, trying to establish his authority, which only made Sam withdraw when dad was around.

Sam started talking about leaving together, just going somewhere and getting real jobs, the kind that paid in cash instead of scars. But Dean wouldn’t think about it, well, he wouldn’t let Sam think that he was thinking about it. Kept putting it off, until it was too late and Sam was leaving for real, full ride to fucking Stanford, and one last attempt to get Dean to come with him. He’d pulled Dean aside while he was packing, held onto his hand like they were still little kids, “Come with me.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to stay here, you can come to California…”

“I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because Dad…”

“Dad is going to self-destruct, Dean, this life is going to kill him and if you stay… if you stay,” Sam’s eyes were swimming in unshed tears that he swallowed back before continuing, “You don’t have to stay. You can do anything, Dean, anything.”

And Dean almost believed that, for one long torturous moment, looking at his brother, the only person that stood any chance of convincing him to break away from his dad, from this life, Dean could almost see it. Sam pulled him closer, slid his hands behind Dean’s neck and rested their foreheads together, silently begging. And that door in Dean’s mind cracked a bit and threatened to break open. Sam didn’t want all that, didn’t want… no. Dean slammed the door closed and locked it.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Dean took a deep breath and placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders did the hardest thing he’d ever done, he pushed Sam back enough so he could clearly see his face and said, “I’m not going.”

Shock, grief, embarrassment, hurt and anger all seemed to flash across Sam’s face at once, but it was the anger that stayed long after the others had been packed away. The anger was what Dean had seen when he closed his eyes that night, thinking about Sam on a Greyhound to California.

But here, now, he leaned in and closed his eyes, drinking in the feel of being next to his brother for the first time in years. He breathed in and could smell Sam,even though his mind was having trouble processing the scent. It was Sam, he smelled just like he always did, but it was like this body, which didn’t have the same sensory memory of a childhood spent together in the Impala and rundown motels, processed the scent through different filters, all of which were good, all of which lit up like fireworks with each breath, and shot that giddy, new love/lust feeling through him mixing with his memories.

Sam’s hand was curled loosely around Dean’s, Jessica’s, hip, his thumb resting on the waistband of his skirt again, long fingers flexing in and gently pressing into the hollow of his hip bone, and it was doing things that were steadily eroding what tenuous self-respect Dean had.

Sam would kill him if he found out that this was him and not Jessica. Shit, maybe he should have said something right away.

“Wait, so if the wish is what switched you then that means that when I kissed… Dean, you kissed me back!”

Yeah, no, too late for that now, he just needs to make sure that Sam never finds out.

They made small talk and drank. Jessica was a lightweight, which Dean found out as he was finishing off his third beer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a room lurch that hard on three beers. He stumbled slightly as he stood up to get another. Sam reached out a steadying hand.

“Whoa. Easy there.”

Dean laughed it off, “I got it, I’m good.. Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?” Dean said, softening it with a smile that may have been a bit more shmoopy than he’d intended, but it seemed to do the trick as Sam held up his hand in an “I give up” sort of gesture and let Dean duck into the kitchen.

There were photos stuck all over the fridge, and Dean recognized several of the people from tonight, including Sam. He studied them all while he drank a glass of water before grabbing a couple more beers from the fridge. There was a bottle opener on the coffee table and, sitting back down next to Sam on the sofa, Dean popped the top off one beer and sat it in front of Sam before popping the top of the other for himself.

Sam huffed an amused breath through his nose. Dean looked at him, took in the bemused look and asked, “What?”

“It’s nothing, just,” Sam laughed and shook his head, “you just reminded me of someone.”

Shit. “Oh? Who?”

Before Sam could answer, the conversation in the room reached shrill levels when Bria announced that her boyfriend Brad had proposed to her.

“Jess, I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to say anything because tonight’s your night, but…” the bottle blonde held out her left hand to show off a glittering diamond.

Everyone spent the next half an hour or so congratulating Bria and Dean tried his best to play at being interested. He was worried that that somehow he’d given himself away but Sam was smiling at him again, all dimples and teeth and just pure fucking sunshine, and Dean inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and smiled back. He was simultaneously too drunk and way too sober for this situation.

~~~

Jess should have left and found the motel, but what was she going to do in some guy’s random motel room until morning? Pace around and worry? Staying put seemed like an easier option, doing nothing usually was, at least for now. Absentmindedly she picked up the glass of bourbon and took a sip. It burned a bit but tasted surprisingly okay. She thought that James obviously drank the stuff and his taste buds must be used to it. She kept sipping at it.

This couldn’t be happening, it had to be a dream.

She realized that she had to pee. She’d had to for a little while now but had been unconsciously putting off dealing with it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of thing that could be ignored forever. Looking around, she spotted the restrooms. She turned around on the stool and stood up, ready to be wobbly after drinking and being in someone else’s skin. But she felt solid, and strong. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar again it occurred to her that she was going to have to use the men’s room.

This was most likely just a dream, she could do this.

Luckily, since the bar was practically empty, the bathroom was too. Stall or urinal, that was the question. She opted for a stall, just in case someone came in, it felt less weird that way. Closing the door behind her, she stared down at the toilet before looking at the front of the jeans she was wearing. For the first time she thought about the fact that some guy was in her body and would probably have to pee at some point too. Ugh.

Well, she could do this, it was just peeing, everyone does it, right? She unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped, then pulled the waistband of the boxer briefs away and down with her left hand while reaching in with her right.

Okay, yeah, weird.

A couple moments later, she was washing her hands at the sink. That was definitely an experience, odd but kinda fun in a rather intrusive feeling way.

She looked at her reflection, really studied it since she wasn’t being watched. She smiled, frowned, and tried a whole range of emotions. Damn, this guy was attractive. Big green eyes with lashes she would have killed for, freckles, perfect lips, and he was tall too, although not as tall as Sam. And he was in great condition, not like one of those guys that works out in a gym all the time, but strong and lean, solid. His hands were callused, knuckles scarred, like he worked with his hands.

“Who are you?” She asked as she looked in the mirror again before leaving the bathroom.

Sitting back down on the barstool, she caught the bartender’s attention. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Jeremy.”

She nodded. “Can I get another, Jeremy?” and she tapped the empty bourbon glass with the silver ring on her right hand before sliding it forward.

He nodded, grabbed a bottle and poured a generous amount in the glass. “You feeling better?” he asked as he slid the glass back towards her.

She nodded, “Eh. It’s been a weird night.”

“Not the best birthday?”

“No. I was supposed to spend it with my boyf…” she stopped herself suddenly and tried to switch gears, “I had plans, that, no offense, didn’t include this fine establishment.” Shit, she’d almost outed this guy that she didn’t even know. Maybe he was into guys, but maybe not, how would she know, and it was always better to be safe than sorry when literally walking in someone else’s shoes.

Jeremy, if he noticed the slip, didn’t give any indication of being bothered by it. He leaned on one elbow against his side of the bar. “Are you traveling for work or something?”

She looked at him, honestly not sure how to answer that question. She knew she had a room at a motel nearby, but why?

Before she could answer, Jeremy continued, “I mean, there’s not a whole lot of here here, you know? This is not really a destination. And,“ he leaned a little closer and spoke in a more conspiratorial tone, “you’re like an eleven compared to the locals.” He nodded at the few other patrons and cracked a smile.

Okay, so maybe he had picked up on her little slip, but she didn’t think he was a threat, so she just laughed it off and took a sip of her drink.

~~~

Later, standing in the kitchen trying to follow some random friend group drama that could have almost been a telenovela storyline, Sam had come up behind Dean and wrapped him in a hug, hands crossed over his waist, his face nuzzled into his hair behind his ear. Dean’s eyes closed as a delightful shiver ran through him and settled between his legs.

“Ugh, get a room, you two!” Sam’s friend Brady said, teasingly.

Without looking, Sam grabbed a handful of chips out of the open bag on the counter and threw them right at the guy’s face, who actually managed to catch one in his mouth to raucous applause.

“Come on.” Sam breathed, low and quiet in Dean’s ear, and threading their fingers together, steered him out of the room.

“What? Where?”

“It’s getting late and I promised, didn’t I?”

Dean didn’t know how to respond because he had no idea what Sam was talking about.

~~~

Jessica sipped at the bourbon, not sure if she enjoyed the taste or not but the smooth burn was sort of growing on her. She sipped and she thought about what she should, or even could, do. Trapped in a stranger’s body, in an unknown town, states away from anyone she knows, what were her options? She could go find the motel room that matched the key in her pocket, and what? Watch crappy motel tv until she falls asleep in some stranger’s bed, hoping that she wakes up in her own body in the morning? That honestly sounded depressing as fuck. So she stalled, and sipped, and sat, and tried not to completely freak out.

~~~

His little brother was all hands, huge, long, spidery, gentle hands. Hands that covered so much, especially on Jessica’s smaller body. He smoothed over his… her long hair, down his… dammit, her arms, down her back. Eyes shining and bright, open as if to not miss anything, to catch every reaction as he walked backwards into a room to the right of the bathroom, Sam finally stepped back out of Dean’s space enough to let the warm flickering glow light up his face. The room was lit by half a dozen candles, on the dresser, the nightstand, on top of the bookshelf. Dean’s eyes went wide. Oh.

Oh no. This was, shit, this was… he looked at Sam. This was bad, he told himself. He couldn’t, it was too much, too far.

Sam, still smiling, was now a little unsure, a little embarrassed, “Too much?” His hand was rubbing gently up and down on Dean’s back, Jessica’s back, fuck, like he just couldn’t stop touching her.

Dean tried to say something, screaming internally at himself to find a way out of this, screwing things up between Jessica and Sam would be better than… He swallowed and opened his mouth, piecing together some sort of excuse, but all thought evaporated as Sam bit his bottom lip, all dimples and glinting eyes, and leaned in. Dean didn’t mean to smile, it was a reflex, a reaction to the extreme absurdity of the situation, that’s all, it wasn’t because his heart fucking swelled at seeing Sam all lit up and happy, looking at him like that.

Oh, I’m a bad, bad person.

He couldn’t look away from Sam’s mouth. And then Sam was too close to see and he nosed into his hair, speaking right into his ear, warm breath sending shivers through him, “I promised you, tonight is all about you. I want to make you feel so good, see how many times I can make you come.”

And Dean felt hellfire flare up through him, burning his cheeks, making his thighs and inner muscles clench around a deep needful longing. A gasp escaped, unbidden, from his open mouth.

You do this and you really are the scumbag you’ve always felt like. This is the line, right here, right now.

But this was something that he would never get to have normally, only this freaky occurrence giving him an impossible chance to have everything he’d ever wanted, even if just for one night, even if under duplicitous circumstances, in someone else’s body, even if it meant burning in Hell eternally for it.

One of Sam’s thumbs brushed lightly over Dean’s lips, as his fingers curled into his hair, turning his head and mouthing at his ear, nipping at and rolling his earlobe between his teeth before tracing kisses along the underside of his jaw. Dean breathed out a shiver that went all the way down to his knees. Sam kissed right up to the corner of his open mouth.

Dean didn’t believe Hell was real, not really, not an actual place like the bible thumpers would have you believe, but this, even ignoring every other horrible thing he’d ever done, this would surely damn him… but maybe it would be worth it. He could have this, and Sam never needed to know.

He turned his head just a little and caught Sam’s lips with his own.

~~~

With the bar being as quiet as it was, Jeremy took to making small talk as the evening wore on, nothing heavy, nothing too personal, just talking about sports teams (luckily a topic she knew a fair amount about) and cars (which she didn’t but luckily most guys didn’t take much encouragement to go on about that sort of thing without much more than a few interested prompts), but he was nice and kind of funny. It was better than stewing alone in her thoughts.

By the time Jess had had another bourbon, man did this James guy have a higher tolerance than she did, she had loosened up a lot.

So what if she’d probably experienced a psychotic break or something and was now trapped in this weird-ass dream, or maybe worse that she was really stuck in some dude’s body on her birthday and was now drinking alone in some shitty bar. She blinked, god was this what James’ life was like? Hopefully this was just a bad day or something. She at least had a party with all her college friends and Sam… Sam. Shit, James better be playing it cool, like he’d said he would, and not be doing anything to fuck things up between her and Sam.

~~~

For a moment, when he kissed Sam, SammySam oh fuck SAM, he’d forgotten all about his hands, like they didn’t even exist, like nothing existed outside of the bursts of confused chaos in his mind and how kissing Sam seemed to short circuit everything.

Good! No, no! I can’t. Stop. Ohhh god, right, this is right. Can’t. Fuck, finally!

Every part of his borrowed body felt like it was blushing, like he should be legit glowing, and there was this warm, aching, wetness that he was suddenly very aware of between his legs. It was a lot like how he normally felt when turned on, just not as focused, deeper inside and suffused throughout his body. He also found that he was very, very aware of his tits, every move, each breath as they lifted and fell, the way the fabric of the bra and shirt moved, every touch against Sam, he could feel all of it, and was aware of it all at once, and yet craved more. Sam’s hands were in his hair, cradling his head as they kissed. His lips tasted like home.

You can touch him!

And just like that, a lifetime of suppressed impulses and denied wants let loose as he placed his hands on Sam’s sides. Lightning-like desire, in all its terrifying glory, zapped through him, along his fingers and up his arms at the contact. Sam was solid, still lean and lanky with youth, but no longer a kid, not his little brother. Big.

It wasn’t like Dean never touched him, hell, he’d probably touched him more than anyone else. But that was different, it was checking on him, cleaning him up, bandaging and mending, little kid snuggles and hugs, holding his hand as they crossed the street, shoulders leaning together as they sat and joked quietly, just the two of them. This, though, this, was the edge of the map. Here, there be monsters, and his pulse pounded like he was on a hunt.

He ran his hands up over Sam’s chest, feeling the lines of the muscles beneath his shirt as Sam slid one of his hands down Dean’s back, pulling him closer, pressing them together. He didn’t stop at his waist this time, his hand continuing down over Dean’s ass to cup and squeeze. Dean moaned, just a little and in a way that he hadn’t expected, and his hands moved up across Sam’s shoulders and neck and into his hair, fingers tangling in his nape and pulling Sam down, or himself up, it didn’t matter which as long as they somehow got closer. Dean instinctively wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips when he lifted him up, one hand under Dean’s ass, across the back of his thighs, the other still cradling the back of his head. Sam shifted, holding Jessica’s weight easily and Dean wondered if Sam had gotten strong enough to lift his own actual body the same way. That thought made his breath hitch.

Sam pushed the door shut with one foot and then took three strides to cross the room before he dropped them both down onto the bed. Sam caught himself with his elbows, so his weight didn’t come down on Dean all at once as he bounced, a laugh bubbling out of Dean, met with a smile from Sam.

Sam looked at him for a moment, brushing hair from Dean’s face, Jessica’s face, Dean reminded himself. Sam was looking at Jessica like that, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and like he wanted to eat her up. Jealousy at the realization sparked in Dean, but it was quickly quelled because Sam looking at Jessica like that meant that Dean could look back through her in a way he never could through his own eyes.

He took in Sam’s bright, clever, magic-colored eyes, and his pointed nose that made him look fox-like and clever. That mole beside his nose, that Dean always wanted poke or to kiss, depending on the day. His hair that, from this angle, spread around his face like a dark halo and reminded Dean of that photo of Jim Morrison, the one where his arms were spread and his chest was bare. He looked like the hero of some Greek myth and he was painfully beautiful.

Then Sam was kissing him again, little nibbling kisses that wandered along his jaw, sending delicious shivers through him. Sam’s hand found the bare skin at his waist, fingers spread out across his stomach, up under his shirt to his ribs as he kissed his way down Dean’s throat.

Dean leaned his head to the side, stretching his neck as he arched up into Sam’s touch. Sam’s fingertips traced along the bottom of his bra, brushed the underside of his breast. Holy shit.

He’d gotten so caught up in the fact that this was Sam, SamSammy, that he’d almost completely glossed over the fact that he was in a woman’s body and was going to experience sex, with Sam, in a body with girl parts! What was, possibly, most disturbing was how onboard he was for this ride. Like, if he was completely honest with himself, the Sam thing had always been there, usually it was forcibly shoved into the furthest, deepest, darkest corner of his brain, and locked down tight, but sometimes it escaped and made it almost to the surface before he’s wrestle it back down again and did his best to ignore it. But beyond an occasional fleeting thought about what the woman he was with was feeling as he went down on her, thrust into her, well, he’d never actually fantasized about actually feeling whatever they felt. The prospect was surprisingly thrilling.

And this isn’t gay (or incest) if it’s Jessica’s body. That thought sent a cold shiver through him, followed very closely by a rancid tendril of self-disgust. What the hell was the matter with him?

But then Sam was cupping his breast, warm hand giving a massaging little squeeze, the nipple genty pinched in the V between his thumb and index finger, sending sparks of pleasure through him and distracting him from his thoughts. Dean had always liked having his nipples played with during sex, well, he really liked having everything played with during sex, but now, though? It was just so much more.

Sam pushed his shirt up, kissed him through the fabric of the bra, before giving a little, demanding “Off.” and worked both the shirt and bra off, undoing the back clasp one handed, that’s my boy. And then his mouth was on him again. Dean’s hands were on Sam’s shoulders, then in his hair as he lavished attention on his tits. And, yeah, definitely an area deserving of all the attention Dean was prone to give because it felt fucking awesome. Before the sensations could become too much, Sam would shift his focus to the other side, kissing and sucking, biting (which felt amazing) and pulling little gasps out of Dean.

Dean squirmed a bit, suddenly desperate for some sort of friction between his legs. Like he’d sensed it, Sam ran one hand down, using little more than the weight of his hand, over the fabric of his skirt, and rubbed, pushing a bit more with his middle and ring fingers, curving with his body, right down between Dean’s legs. It wasn’t quite like having his dick rubbed, the feeling a little more muted, more spread out. But the warmth that spread through him felt familiar as did the desire it inflamed. And he pushed his hips against Sam’s hand seeking more pressure.

The biggest difference Dean felt was where he normally would have wanted to push into his partner, to thrust into them, all he wanted now, the desire that consumed his mind, was that he needed something inside him, stretching him, filling him. This hollow, wanting, ache was new but made him unbearably warm and desperate. And he wondered, not for the first time, about how much of it was coming from Jessica’s muscle memory, because while it was new to him, it felt so perfectly right and natural in this body.

With a final playful pull on one of his nipples, sucking hard before letting it drop and the weight of the breast bounce back against Dean’s chest, Sam kissed his way down across his stomach. Jessica was a bit ticklish, it would seem, because the light scrape of Sam’s stubble sent delightful tremors through Dean. Not enough to make him laugh or pull away, but enough to make him smile.

This is crazy. This is crazy. This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. This is some weirdass fever dream. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sam reached the waistband of Jessica’s skirt, kissing and tonguing over Dean’s belly button as he worked loose the zipper and slid the fabric down, chasing it with his mouth. Dean lifted his hips so Sam could slide it the rest of the way down and off his legs, leaving him in just delicate, barely there, panties. They were silky and pink and Dean flashed back hard to six years ago, to Rhonda Hurley looking at him wearing her panties like she wanted to eat him alive, a look that was mirrored now in Sam’s eyes as he slowly looked up his… Jessica’s body. Dammit.

That look wasn’t Dean’s, it wasn’t for him. Sam was looking at Jessica like that. Fuck he shouldn’t do this. He needed to say something, stop this somehow.

“Sam…” He pleaded, but it came out too breathless and wanting, needing, and Sam smiled and leaned down, placed a kiss right on the silky pink stretched over the center of all the warmth Dean was feeling and hummed against him.

“Hmm?” and then he kissed a little lower and looked up from under his bangs as he gently stroked one hand up Dean’s thigh, fingers spreading so wide, hot and thrilling. He placed another kiss, this time below the curve of where Dean could see, so he couldn’t see Sam’s mouth as it pressed the fabric right into the wetness between his legs. Sam nosed in then and breathed deep. “All this for me?”

Dean bit down on his bottom lip, part of his mind still desperately trying to get control of this situation, to somehow, miraculously pull back before it was too late, when Sam looked up and locked eyes with him as he slowly, gently, bit the fabric covered mound, worrying it so slowly with his teeth before saying, in a voice deeper than Dean had ever heard him use, “God I want to eat you up. Will you let me? Let me just,” he licked, his tongue spread wide, right up over the now sodden crotch of those pink panties, “devour you?”

And the last vestiges of Dean’s attempts to be a better person crumbled. If he was going to hell, and he was definitely going, then he was going to make damn sure that he got the maximum value out of the trip.

“Yeah.” he said as he reached out and ran his fingers down Sam’s hair, his thumb brushing Sam’s cheek as Sam, SamMySammyMine, smiled his sharp, clever, mischievous smile and pulled the panties off and settled back between Dean’s legs, bending Dean’s knees up and over Sam’s shoulders. One hand going up Dean’s side, his long arm easily allowing him to cup around one breast, while the other spread, fingers splayed, across the tight skin below Dean’s navel, pressing down with gentle pressure to still the squirming Dean hadn’t even realized he was doing.

~~~

The last of the other customers paid up his tab and left. Jessica threw back the rest of her drink.

“What do I owe you?” she asked as she stood up to pull James’ wallet out of his pocket. The gravity in the room lurched violently to the left and she had to catch herself by clutching the edge of the bar. She barked out a laugh and sat back down on the stool. “Whoa.”

“Easy there.” Jeremy said. “No rush.”

He slid another glass of water over to her with a smile. She nodded and gratefully took a drink. It was cold and even though it still tasted a little too much like chlorine to be called good, she knew it would help.

“It’s cool, take your time, I’ve got a bunch of things to do to close up so you don’t have to leave just yet.” He said with a smile.

~~~

Sam’s attention focused between Dean’s spread legs, nosing into the trimmed little bush before licking along the folds of his pussy. His tongue, a wide and warm pressure, different from anything Dean had experienced before. It wasn’t like having his dick licked, which felt good right from the start. But the act was insanely intimate and definitely felt good, and the fact that it was Sam, samsamsam, made him shiver. And then the tip of Sam’s tongue dipped in and flicked across Dean’s clit and there it was! A burst of pleasure followed immediately by a desire for more.

A keening slipped from Dean’s throat, so much higher pitched than felt right to him. Looking down, all he could see was Sam’s shaggy brown hair and his fox-like eyes, pupils wide in the darkened room, looking back at him. Sam slid his hand down, long fingers spreading Dean open. Dean felt the air stir between his legs, cooling around the edges, and he realized just how wet he was. Sam licked again, taking his time, dipping in and flicking across before gently kissing that swollen bud of nerves and then doing it again, and again. Dean gasped when he used his teeth, normally something, as a guy, that would be a complete no-go, but the nipping and nibbling here felt good, really good, primal and hungry, and Dean wanted more.

Sam pushed his tongue in, deeper each time, as he rubbed Dean’s clit, pressing and circling, circling and pressing, sucking, biting, again and again until Dean’s hands had to move because Sam was holding his hips still, so he reached down and brushed Sam’s hair back, so he could see him better, then stayed in his hair, just holding, trying not pull. And his other hand went to his breast, kneading and then pinching the sensitive nipple. Everything combined and built up like a wave swelling, growing more and more, frantic, urgent, faster, and then he was pulling on Sam’s hair, which made him groan into Dean, the vibrations sending Dean crashing over. Sam continued to gently massage Dean’s clit, while fucking into him with his tongue, as wave after wave rolled through Dean.

Just as Dean was able to breathe again, Sam shifted around a bit so that he had both hands working, the one still spreading Dean open and working his clit in slow circles, while he pressed first one finger then two into him.

There was a punk rock girl out near Salt Lake, what was her name? Brenda something, shit he couldn’t think, but she’d had a thing for sticking her finger in her partner’s ass when they fucked her, and while she’d been enthusiastically into it, and it hadn’t been bad, it was weird, kinda good weird, but weird. It was nothing like this.

Sam leaned back in as he worked up a steady rhythm, and started tonguing and sucking his clit again. Dean was so sensitive it didn’t take long for him to feel everything building again. Sam had worked another finger in and curled them forward. It was a tried and true move that Dean had used on many, many occasions, and now he knew why it always worked so well, as he gasped and came hard, muscles fluttering hard around Sam’s hand.

“Samm… Sam,” remembering just in time, “please, oh fuck, mmm, I…”

“Hmm?”

“I need,” but he hesitated before voicing the rest, bit his bottom lip, was he really going to ask for it? From Sam?

“What? What do you need, baby?” Sam asked, his voice lower than Dean had ever heard it, deep but tender and pressed right between his legs, and damn if that didn’t light something up on the switchboard in Dean’s head.

No one but Dean would ever know if he just asked for what he wanted.

“Fuck me?” he said, quiet and unsure.

“Hmm, thought I’d stay here for a little longer, make you scream my name.” Sam slowly nosed in again and licked. “You taste so good.”

“Sam.”

Bright eyes staring up at him. “Mmm?”

“Are you really going to make me beg… on my birthday?”

Sam nodded as he nipped at the inner crease of Dean’s hip.

Dean let out a frustrated groan, “Please? Get up here and fuck me, Sam.”

Sam smiled, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He sat back, pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe his hand and face before tossing it onto the floor. Shit, Sammy had filled out since the last time Dean had seen him and, reminding himself that he could look, he let his eyes linger on his brother’s torso. He realized he was mentally inventorying the scars he could see, there were no new ones, which was good. Sam’s belt buckle jangled a little as it came undone and he unbuttoned his jeans. Sam stood and pushed them down along with his underwear, black boxer briefs, and then was kicking them off to the side and slowly crawling back onto the bed.

Holy shit! HIs baby brother was built like a Greek god! How often was he working out? He was all slick, cut muscle, long limbs, and… In what universe was it even remotely fair that his little (no longer the operative word) brother had gotten bigger than him, apparently in every way? Dean was not a small guy, over six feet and packing a generously sized dick that he’d never, not once, gotten any complaints about. In fact, he’d received more than enough compliments to give him a, possibly, over-inflated sense of pride. Dean had an amazing cock, that he knew how to use. It was a source of great joy for him. And, he soothed his ego, it was hard to get a proper sense of scale, not having access to his own hands. But then Sam was grinning at him with his wickedly clever eyes and bright, dimpled smile again and Dean felt himself smiling back, his cheeks flushing as Jessica’s body responded to a new wave of want.

Sam crawled up over Dean, stretching his long body and skimming, not quite touching, over him, supporting his weight on his knees and hands. Just as Sam zeroed in on his lips and when Dean anticipated he would kiss him, Sam kept stretching past, reaching over and easily sliding open then closing the nightstand drawer. When he pulled back, a condom packet held by a corner in his mouth, he dragged it lightly across Dean’s skin, tickling slightly and forcing a giggle out of him that Dean would cringe over later when he replayed the moment. Sam sat back on his heels and tore open the packet. A wild thought, a desire, flashed through Dean, causing his cheeks to burn.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly.

Sam stopped and looked at him, concern overriding some of the confidence he’d shown just seconds before. But Dean was sitting up and reaching out, running his hand down Sam’s thigh as he smiled Jessica’s wide smile.

“Just, let me…” and he slid his hand up, his gaze meeting his grasp as he stroked Sam’s length. Hot, velvety soft skin twitched in the circle of Jessica’s manicured fingers. Dean blinked slowly, his eyes threatening to close, to block out such a transgression, but he made himself look, burning the image into his memory. He licked his lips as he shifted so he could lean forward. He just needed to know… if he was here, if he was doing this, then he needed it all, there’d never be another chance. He rubbed his thumb through the drop of precum beaded up on the head of Sam’s cock, spreading it slick across the head, and then kissed there. He looked up to find Sam staring down, eyes dark, mouth open, a blush high on his cheeks like he was drunk, and Dean licked slowly, tasting as he stared up at him.

Dean had never gone down on a guy before, although he’d received plenty of propositions over the years. But he’d eaten out more than his fair share of women and every one had tasted different, each one unique and special and divine, and this really wasn’t much different from that. Salty, a little bitter, not bad, just intimate. And he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a deep satisfaction to sucking the head of Sam’s cock into his mouth. Sam’s fingers slipped into Jessica’s hair, fingers spanning the width of her head and gently holding there, not pressing, not pulling, as he let out a slow breath.

Dean reached up with his free hand and took the opened condom packet from Sam as he swirled his tongue against the vein on the underside of his cock. And then he pulled back and slid the condom down and gave it a couple slow pumps with his fist to make sure it was rolled all the way down.

He sat up and crawled forward, capturing Sam’s bottom lip as he pressed against him. Sam’s hand let go of his hair and like earlier, he pulled Dean in like he weighed nothing, hands engulfing his hips as he settled Dean on his lap. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, reveling in the feel of his tits crushed up against Sam’s chest and Sam’s erection hot and hard between them. His hips rubbed forward, like they were seeking friction on autopilot.

“Sam,” he keened.

Sam lifted him again and lined himself up and lowered Dean onto him. Dean’s eyes rolled closed as he stretched and was filled in a way he’d never even dreamed. He’d never be able to claim that again, he was sure he’d never get the perfect feeling of them fitting together like this out of his mind. And as his hips once again seemed more in control of things than he was, he gave some experimental grinds, and looked at Sam whose eyes were closed, his brow furrowed a little in concentration, and he looked… beautiful.

“Sam?”

Sam opened his eyes, his pupils blown wide in the candlelight and a look of pure want on his face, and he was the most gorgeous thing that Dean had ever seen. He circled his hips, trying to find the leverage to do more when Sam lifted him again, easily taking Jessica’s weight in his arms and began to thrust up. As he repeated the movement, again and again, Dean let his head fall back, his eyes closing, Sam’s mouth kissing hungrily along his jaw and down his neck, teeth nipping, stubble on his chin rough, but never hurting, never bruising, no it was just enough to feel all the way down through to where they were connected.

With his eyes closed and head tipped back, the weight of Jessica’s hair hanging down, bouncing with every forceful thrust, Dean could only hold on, losing himself in the sensations. Sam ran a hand up Dean’s back, his hand tangling in and gently but insistently pulling, causing Dean to arch further back. Sam kissed down, captured one of his nipples, his other hand sliding low across Dean hips, thumb finding and pressing into his clit and the combination of all those sensations pushed him up and over that cliff again. Being so full, having something… his brother’s cock, a thought that he really shouldn’t be so completely good with… inside him, for his muscles to squeeze, and with so much skin-on-skin contact for him to clutch onto, pushed everything up, and up, and over.

When Dean could focus again, he lifted his head, eyes meeting Sam’s, Sam who was still fucking him, and holy hell if his (not so) little brother wasn’t a goddamn freight train. The thought brought a ridiculous swelling of pride with it, some misguided feeling that he’d had a hand in raising this absolute god of a man. Dean smiled, his mouth open with every breath that Sam pushed out of him, and he traced his fingers across Sam’s face, thumb dragging across his bottom lip before Dean leaned in and kissed him.

“Come on, Baby. Come for me? I want to feel you, come on.” he said in between kisses. Sam’s arms tightened around him, his pace speeding up. “ Come on, Sammy.” Dean breathed and he felt Sam’s body tense. He leaned back enough to see Sam’s face as he climaxed. Little aftershocks from Dean’s last orgasm were still pulsing through him as Sam twitched inside him.

When their heavy breaths slowed down to contented sighs, Sam pulled out, removed the condom and tossed it in a small trash can by the nightstand and twisted the two of them so they could fall onto their sides on the bed, his arms still around Dean, facing each other.

Sam brushed a thick lock of hair out of Dean’s face, his eyes alight with reflected, flickering candlelight. He was sweaty and his cheeks were still flushed and he looked contentedly fucked out and Dean couldn’t stop staring at him.

A bemused smile flashed across Sam’s face after a moment. “What?”

Dean didn’t have the words, so he just smiled with his borrowed face, hoping it conveyed the best part of the crazed tangle of things he was feeling. When Sam returned the smile, Dean leaned in and kissed him one last time before snuggling into his brother’s broad chest, his eyelids growing heavy.

Sam placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Happy birthday, Jess.”

Dean was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face because he knew the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes anymore.

Dean lay there until Sam’s breathing evened out into sleep. And then he steadfastly refused to give into the looming tidal wave of guilt that was threatening to drown him, closing his eyes, he breathed in the smell of Sam, letting all the memories it triggered carry him, finally, to sleep.

~~~

“So, I’m curious,” she asked, “you don’t seem too enthused about… wait, where are we again?”

Jeremy laughed, “Eastfield.”

“Right, right. You don’t seem too enthused about Eastfield. And you’re young, seem intelligent, so why…” she gestured around the bar. “You from here? Got family or something?”

“Nah, I mean, not exactly. I grew up near here. Went to college. While I was there, my dad got sick, cancer, so I came home to take care of him. And, I don’t know, after he passed I just didn’t go right back and now,” he shrugged as he moved glasses around, “I don’t know. I’m just sort of here because here feels as good as anywhere to be.”

Jessica nodded and took a sip of water.

“What about you? You’ve been here all night and haven’t mentioned what you do for a living once.” Jeremy carried a crate of glasses into the back, Jessica could hear it being set down, and then he was back again, leaning up against the bar across from her. “Most people don’t shut up about their jobs when they get talking here. It’s just a safe topic, you know? Not too personal but something that eats up most of their lives. But you?”

Jessica shrugged and smiled, taking another drink of water. Jeremy squinted his eyes a bit, pursed his lips.

“What if I guess?” He looked her up and down, clucking his tongue quietly. “A hit man for the Mafia? Is the Mafia still a thing?” He smiled.

She laughed, “I don’t know. But no, I’m not in the Mafia.” I think, she added internally.

Jeremy looked at her, watched her mouth as she smiled. “Are you a model or something… which as I’m saying it, sounds super cheesy.” he said with a bit of a blush rising high on his cheeks above his beard. He was flirting and she suddenly remembered that she wasn’t herself. He was flirting with the gorgeous guy who’d been drinking alone at his bar all evening.

“I don’t really want to talk about what I do, it’s just not…” she shrugged and took another drink of water, licking her lips. The room was still spinning a bit and she felt all warm and fuzzy, like this was all a weird but pleasant dream.

Jeremy leaned forward onto his elbows, only a foot or so of distance between them now. “SInce I’m already kinda making a fool of myself… you are, you know… really hot and it seems like a crime against humanity for you to be alone on your birthday.”

He had nice brown eyes, wide and clear and kind, and what should have been an overdone line came across as genuine. The only other guy she knew that could have pulled that off was Sam. Thinking of him caused a heavy lump of guilt to form in her stomach.

“And yet, here I am.”

He slid one hand closer, fingertips just brushing the backs of her knuckles where her hand was still curled around the glass.

She stared at his hand and thought about Sam, who was the best man she’d ever known, smart, sweet, funny, weirdly mysterious, how did he even know half the shit he knew? And she knew so little about his life, his childhood, just enough to know that it had been nomadic and traumatic. His mom had died when he was a baby, his dad hadn’t handled that well, and he had a brother, but he never wanted to talk about them. He was home, thinking he was with her (hopefully) if James wasn’t screwing everything up. But at the same time, the idea that Sam might not be able to tell that it wasn’t her… well, it rankled.

She looked over Jeremy’s shoulder and saw James’ reflection looking back. Maybe it was the drinks, she thought as she shifted her gaze back to Jeremy, or the dream-like unrealness of the entire evening, but she slowly licked her lips thinking about what it would feel like to kiss a guy using someone else’s mouth, a man’s mouth? Would it feel different?

There was only one way to find out.

She pushed up and forward slightly as Jeremy leaned further across the bar. They both hesitated when there were only a couple of inches of space between them, giving the other a chance to back out. Shyness was never something that Jessica suffered from. Quite the opposite. Throughout her life she’d been accused of being too forward, too bold and daring, too aggressive when she wanted something. She knew she was impulsive, but YOLO, right? She slid her hand around the back of Jeremy’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

The beard was something new to her. It was scratchy-soft and tickly in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. His lips were soft though and he knew what to do with them. After a moment, they broke apart.

“Hey, come around. I, uh, I want to give you something.”

When she stood up this time she was steady. Walking around the bar, she felt a flush of excitement, like a spreading fire flowing from her cheeks, down her chest, and into her gut. She followed him through the doorway and into the back room where Jeremy turned and pushed her up against a wall with a big, laminated, OSHA poster taped to it.

He was a couple inches shorter, so she had to tip her head down to meet his lips, a feeling so opposite of what she was used to that it added to the overall surrealness of the situation. And then he stepped even closer, one leg wedging between hers, pressing against her, his hands cupping her head, fingers rubbing into her scalp, such a different experience with James’ short hair, but pulling a pleased noise from somewhere deep in her chest. When his hips ground against hers, she was startled at the sensation. All that pooling warmth in her gut was suddenly rushing to her groin, focusing with growing insistence. She could feel Jeremy, already so hard, pressing back and the sensation left her breathless.

“Can I?” He tipped his head down as his hand skated over the front of her jeans, lightly tracing the bulge of her cock. Shit, she had a cock and this guy wanted to…

Okay, so she didn’t know if James was gay, or into guys at all, and she was seriously dating Sam, she was, but when would she ever be given the chance to experience this from this side of the equation again?

“Yeah.” she said.

Jeremy kissed her again as he undid her belt and jeans, sliding his hand down to feel her through her briefs. Her hips pressed forward, chasing the warmth and touch of his hand. And then his mouth was gone. He sank to his knees as he pulled the waistband of her briefs down and freed her straining cock. And it was like watching porn that she could feel, looking down the long stretch of her borrowed body, flat stomach and hard on, flushed dark pink with short, dark curls around the base. And then Jeremy’s tongue licked slowly up along the bottom of her shaft before flicking across the tip. Oh! That felt… good! One hand gently held the base, angling the length for better access, while his other hand cupped warm around her balls, lifting and squeezing in a way that made a small gasp escape her lips. Jeremy stared up at her as his tongue darted out again and swirled around the head of her cock, like he was trying to burn the image into his memory. But when he sucked her into his mouth and she groaned and placed a hand gently in his hair, her mouth falling open, his eyes sank closed and he got to work.

Jessica had given head, she knew her way around a blowjob and took pride in the responses she got, but to feel it, oh it added an entire other level. She couldn’t help but note what worked vs. what didn’t work vs. what really worked. She had also been on the receiving end of oral in her own body many times, something that Sam was particularly fond of (and extremely good at), but while this was similar, it was also so completely different, everything sort of flipped around in a delightful way. Her head tipped back against the wall as she let the feelings take over. Despite having no direct experience on this side of a blowjob, she felt confident that Jeremy seemed to know what he was doing. She didn’t hold back her responses and he picked them up and ran with them.

She was still tipsy enough and this was all still so new and weird, she had no idea how long it lasted before she felt herself tensing up, everything building as he worked at an increasingly frantic pace. As if he could sense how close she was, and he probably knew better than she did, he pulled back just enough to look up and say, “Come on” before swallowing as much of her as he could. A couple more pumps and the pressure in her burst, flooding out of her in deliciously violent spurts, all of which Jeremy greedily took.

When she could focus again, and looked down, he had his own dick out and was coming in his hand, his forehead resting against her thigh, still on his knees. She ran her hand through his hair, unconsciously petting him as they both came down.

When he sat back and fixed himself back into his pants, she did the same. She offered him a hand and pulled him back up to his feet. Awkwardness threatening to set in, she just smiled at him, “Thanks seems like a bit of an understatement.”

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for hot birthday boys.” He laughed, cheeks glowing with a deep flush. “No pun intended.”

Her smile spread wider.

Walking out of the bar a few minutes later, Jeremy’s number written on the receipt in her pocket, only feeling a little awkward at how quickly the whole interaction wrapped up because he seemed honestly content, Jessica looked around the parking lot. James had said it was a classic car, but she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. The long, shiny, sleek lines of the absolute beast of a vehicle that was waiting for her was a surprise though.

She fished the keys out of her pocket and opened the door with a creaking squeak that spoke of old joints formed from heavy, solid, metal. She slid in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut.

“Okay. Just an easy drive over to the motel. You can do this.” Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life. Nothing quiet or subtle about this car, but it felt right on a weird, deep level that she wasn’t sure was coming from her. She eased out of the bar’s parking lot and onto the blessedly deserted street, keeping it a bit below the speed limit, even though she could feel the car practically begging to go faster.

Then there was the motel, and she parked outside room 12, locked the car and went inside. The place was… well it wasn’t going to ever earn even three stars on any travel guide ever again, but it was sorta clean and had the basics covered, a bed, nightstand, little desk with a chair next to a dresser with a tv on it, open closet, and a dingy bathroom. She dropped the keys onto the nightstand, along with James’s wallet and phone, as she sat heavily on the side of the bed.

Exhaustion settled heavily on her and she felt like she was made of lead, but still managed to pull off her boots and started to lay down before stopping herself and grabbing the cheap pen with the motel name on it. She scribbled a quick note on the receipt, under Jeremy’s name and number. And then was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

~~~

The distinctive smell of stale, decades old, cigarette smoke and bleach hit him as Dean woke with a start. Sitting up and taking immediate stock of himself and his surroundings. Sunlight streamed in around the curtains, lighting up copious dust motes. The distant sound of a door banging shut reverberated through the walls.

He was still wearing what he’d been wearing when he’d left his body last night and had been sleeping stretched out on top of the covers on the bed in his motel room. His duffle bag lay seemingly untouched on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He rubbed his hands over his face and scrubbed at his hair a few times.

His wallet, keys, and phone were on the nightstand next to a note, which he picked up and read. The handwriting wasn’t his. And as he looked he realized it was likely written by two different people.

Jeremy 555-823-3467 was written in one hand, while the rest was another, messy and unsure.

You may not want to go back to that bar.

“Huh.” he tossed the note onto the bed, got up and walked to the window. A quick check outside verified that his car was there and seemed in one piece.

~~~

Jessica woke up slowly, warm and comfortable. She stretched and felt the familiar feel of her own body and smiled. The smile dropped entirely as she realized that she was naked and not alone. Sam, also naked, stirred next to her as she moved.

The night before settling like a brick in her stomach. She knew what she’d done, and would carry the guilt of cheating on Sam, but if she was honest with herself, which she tried hard to be, she believed that the extraordinary circumstances were something that she would have regretted not taking advantage of. Right or wrong, she’d made her choice and she’d live with that. But the idea that some random guy had used her body the same way, with her boyfriend, and that it turned out that Sam hadn’t noticed anything wrong, which either said a lot about how poorly he knew her, or about how good James was at pretending to be someone he didn’t really know, well, that weighed on her in a much more unpleasant way.

It wouldn’t be for another year and a half before that strange, surreal night would come sneaking back into her life in a fittingly bizarre and unexpected way.

Looking at that too handsome face again standing so close to Sam as she flipped on the light in their living room, made the floor feel like it was going to drop out from under her.

“Sam?”

“Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam said, still slightly out of breath.

She blinked in surprise, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

Sam had never shown her any pictures of his brother, had only spoken about him a few times, and had made it sound like they were distant, estranged. She hadn’t ever questioned… why would she have questioned? This, what the hell was this? But before she could form any of her swirling thoughts into words, Dean stepped forward, an over-the-top leering grin on his face.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.”

There wasn’t even a hint of recognition in his eyes, but she still felt the hairs on her arms rise with a sense of danger at the aggressive eye contact he’d fixed on her.

Later, as she watched Sam pack and assure her that he would be back in time for his interview on Monday, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was looming nearby. But she’d never told Sam about that night, it was insane, how could she have even begun to explain it? So she didn’t know now how to articulate why she didn’t want Sam to go. The idea that James was actually Sam’s brother, that he’d… that they’d…

Sam kissed her goodbye with promises of seeing her soon and then was out the door. A familiar rumble of an engine starting up outside, and then they were gone.

#wincest #wincest fanfiction #non con #extremely dubious consent #body swap #gender swap #sam/jessica #dean/sam #long post

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grogusmum · 10 months

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THRO-BACK THURSDAY FIC RECS! (8/3/23)

Here we are my first week of Thro-back fics!

This is not all the ric recs I got, so if I didn't get to yours, know that I will!!

Remember y'all, the point of this is to spread some love with comments and reblogs!! So feel free to bookmark this collection in your likes, but when you read a fic from it- please show that fic some love!!! REBLOG!

So many gorgeous fic to read-

Not Alone Enough @pebblesmustard gorgeous hurt/comfort type piece featuring Jack Daniel's x omc!Mateo. As I said in my comment on my reblog of the fic- I want to gather up Mateo and help mend his heart, but he has a much more capable cowboy already on the job. I hope I get to read more of these to some day!

Eyes Open by @radiowallet

We've got another Marcus Moreno x ofc fic in the house!!

I'm so glad this was recced, because it's something I've been meaning to start. I've only just read the first chapter because I want to get to everyone's rec if I can, so I've only gotten the table set, but Cat has me hooked right away! I love the dynamic between the pair. Our ofc, Amy, is a fun pair of shoes to step in. I can't wait to read more!

Okay next we've got one I've read, actually, and I'm so glad to see it again!

Not a Monster, Not Alone by @beecastle , it's a fix it fic with Ellie and Sam, and I'm guessing you know what's being fixed here!

This is what they derserved!

Here is another that I've read and love to death- happy to give it a fic rec bump from my one of my favorite persons and my favorite writer @oonajaeadira

This Will Be The Day That I Spy with Jack Daniels x chemist!f!reader

As always Adirela brings her secret sauce and slathers it all over this over the top cowboy and just makes my heart yearn!!

As I said, when I read it the first time, I love this cowboy smooth and sweet as pulled taffy!

Oh!! THE BANTER! It can not go unsung! This is top-notch banter.

Last but certainly not least is a pair of fics by @yourcoolauntie featuring my space husband Din Djarin x f!Reader

The descriptions I this fic are beautiful, but y'all let me just say-

Kitchen shave and haircut... Kitchen. Shave. And. Haircut.

For a heartbroken Din in need of comfort and care.

Please, my gumdrop heart! (Plus, some grade A smut!)

An Act of Grace

Something Divine

#hazels thro back thursday fic recs #pedro pascal #fic recs #din djarin x f!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #ellie and sam #ellie williams #jack daniels x omc #marcus moreno x ofc

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sjsmith56 · 3 months

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Decisions, Chapter 8 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: The fight between the different Avengers over Bucky upsets Lacey but her emotions are tempered by a phone call.

Length: 4 K

Characters: Lacey, Clint, Laura, Steve, Bucky, OMC Agent Jones.

Warnings: none

Author notes: Set during and after Avengers: Civil War. Told from Lacey’s POV.

<<Chapter 7

👩🏼‍🍼 📺 📱

As Lacey was out on the tractor moving some deadwood trees she noticed Laura and Clint on the porch of their home. It looked like they were having an argument which was unusual because they were so attuned to each other they rarely raised their voices when disagreeing. She hopped off and unhitched the chain that dragged the dead tree, then rode the tractor to the barn. As she drove past the other two they lowered their voices and watched her park the ancient vehicle. She came out of the barn and stared at both of them.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Clint found something out and I think he should tell you," said Laura. "He thinks it's need to know and you don't need to know yet.”

Lacey turned her gaze on him until he finally swore. "They found Bucky," he said. "In Bucharest, Romania, like we thought. The authorities have accused him of bombing a UN meeting in Vienna that killed 12 and injured 70. He's been taken into custody and they're transporting him to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre in Berlin. They're connected to the CIA, so you know how this is going to go down."

"You're thinking death penalty, aren't you?" she asked steadily.

"Yeah," he admitted. "They'll go through the motions of giving him a psychiatric assessment and assign him a lawyer but they've been itching to throw the book at him ever since they found out the Winter Soldier's identity. I'm sorry."

"Have you heard from Steve or Tony?" she asked.

"That's the thing," said Clint. "Steve went to warn him and try to get him to give himself up to him. They ended up in a pretty intense fight with the elite squad that was sent. No deaths but Bucky hurt quite a few of them. Steve and Sam are both in custody. Tony wants them to support the CIA taking Bucky."

"What?" asked Lacey, upset. "When did Tony start believing them?"

"Since Secretary Ross threatened to prosecute Steve and Sam for helping Bucky," replied Clint. "Tony thinks he's walking a middle line, being reasonable. I don't think Steve agrees with him on this. Neither do I for that matter. It all boils down to these Sokovia Accords and how they're being used."

There was the sound of a baby crying and both Lacey and Laura tilted their heads listening. "That's mine," said Lacey, checking her watch. "He's probably hungry."

She turned around and went up to her room where 8 month old Tommy was crying. Picking him up she held him closely, then checked his diaper. It was wet so she changed him first before sitting down in the rocking chair, lifting her T-shirt up and helping him latch on. She offered him her fingers to hold and he grasped them firmly as he nursed hungrily. She had wondered if all babies were this hungry or just this one but Laura assured her all three of her children were voracious feeders until they began eating solids. It just hadn't happened with Tommy yet, even though he had been taking solids for several months. With her free hand she turned on the TV in her room and found a news alert on all the channels. The Winter Soldier had been activated while in custody, went on a rampage, then escaped. It was believed Captain America/ Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson were helping him. The authorities were looking for all three. It had just gone from bad to worse. She carried Tommy in her arms as she came down the stairs to see Clint and Laura watching the same news reports.

"They'll shoot him on sight now, won't they?" she asked openly.

"It doesn't look good," agreed Clint, whose cell phone went off at that moment.

Looking at the call display, he answered it while walking outside. Laura kept looking at him through the window, her face concerned, until he walked back in. His face was set in grim determination and she knew he had made an important decision.

"How soon?" asked Laura.

"Right away," he replied. "Lacey, that was Sam. Bucky was triggered by the UN psychiatrist sent to assess him. They think he was a HYDRA mole that set up the Vienna bombing. Bucky was knocked out while fighting with Steve but when he came to he remembered the man asked about a set of winter soldiers still in hibernation in Siberia. They think he's gone to activate them. They want my help to get out of Germany. There are a couple of other people I need to get first then I'm going to help them. We're going after the doctor."

"Won't that put you in jeopardy if you're caught?" she asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he replied, looking intently at Laura. "Tell the kids I'm sorry about the water skiing. Now I have to go break Wanda out of the compound."

He and Laura went to their bedroom leaving Lacey in the living room holding Tommy, feeling helpless. He came down in his gear, walked out to the barn, then exited carrying his bow and arrows. They followed him out to a second barn which he opened to reveal a quinjet. Lacey looked at him with amazement.

"Permanent loan," he joked.

After kissing Laura firmly he got into the quinjet and started it up while the two women went out into the farmyard. Slowly he guided it out of the structure then raised it up into the air before applying the throttle. Lacey put her arms around Laura's shoulders and the two women bent their heads together.

"I wondered how long it would take for him to leave retirement," admitted Laura.

They both went about their farm duties, then made dinner for the kids. As expected they were disappointed about their dad having to leave but it wasn't the first time it had happened. The following morning Tommy woke up at his usual time and as Lacey fed him she turned the TV on. There was another special report on TV about the Avengers fighting amongst themselves at the Leipzig airport. Holding Tommy she opened the door and called to Laura who was feeding Nathaniel in her room. She brought him into Lacey's room and they watched together as they fed their boys.

"This isn't good," Lacey said to Laura. "It's going to split the team apart completely."

Laura watched intently then looked stricken at Lacey. "They're changing their tactics," she said. "Clint said they were all going to try to get out of there but it looks like they're taking on more of the fight to give Steve and Bucky the opportunity to escape. It could mean they're expecting to be arrested."

Sure enough, as soon as Steve and Bucky escaped in the quinjet the other Avengers who had sided with them were taken into custody. Laura phoned a number on her phone and by the sound of it the person who answered was Nick Fury. It was hard listening to a one-sided phone conversation but when Laura hung up she wasn't as upset as she had been.

"Fury will do what he can," said Laura.

They heard nothing until the next day when Fury confirmed that Clint, Sam, Wanda and a man unknown to them named Scott Lang had been placed into custody in an ultra secure facility called The Raft. Fury admitted there wasn't much he could do for them while they were in that facility. He also told them Natasha had helped Steve and Bucky escape. Authorities were looking for her.

"Looks like we'll have to wait this out," said Laura, after hanging up.

Although Laura refused to show anything but a positive face to her older two children Lacey knew how worried she was when she heard a knock on her door while she was nursing Tommy later that night.

"Come in," she said, to the door opening and Laura entering. "Are you okay?"

"No," she replied, her voice strained. "Can I cry in here? The kids won't hear me. I can't keep it in any longer."

"Go for it," said Lacey, who was almost finished. "Get under the covers, pull them over your head and let it rip."

Tommy was almost asleep so Lacey stopped feeding him, put him in the cradle and moved it to her bathroom, closing the door. Then she got on top of the bed and put her arm around Laura. As soon as she did the tears began to flow. She held her friend, stroking her hair and just being there for her. Laura cried for some time then composed herself, blew her nose and hugged Lacey.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I had to get it out somehow. I'll be alright now. I'm glad you were here."

"Hey, you've been here for me this whole time," replied Lacey. "I owe so much more to you."

They hugged and Laura left for her own room. Lacey got under the covers, breathing deeply to centre herself. Then she remembered something and went to the bathroom, opening the door. Tommy was still asleep in his cradle.

"Sorry, little man," she whispered. "Let's bring you back out here."

She sat looking at him, gently touching his dark hair. His face was so beautiful and she could see the rapid eye movement behind his eyelids.

"What's going through your mind right now?" she asked him softly.

He gave a little laugh in his sleep and she smiled. No matter what happened to his dad she would always be there for him. Always.

The sound of her phone on vibrate wakened Lacey and she looked at the call display. It was Steve. She answered it quickly.

"You know it's barely sunrise here," she said by way of greeting.

"I could always phone back," said a voice she hadn't heard for so long.

"Bucky?" she questioned, her voice trembling. She was fully awake now. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me," he confirmed. "I had it all set up in my head what I would say to you and now I find my mind has gone blank."

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Someplace safe," he replied. "They're going to treat me. I lost my titanium arm when Stark blasted it off so they're going to remove what's left of it and maybe give me a new one. They're also going to find a way to get HYDRA out of my head. I'll have to go into cryostasis until they figure it out so you won't hear from me for a while. That's why I wanted to talk to you now."

"Did Steve tell you anything?" she asked hesitantly.

"About the baby? Yeah, Steve told me." His voice sounded like he was ready to cry. "I wish I had known. I would have come back for you and made it right. He's really my son."

It was said as a statement not a question. "He looks just like you and he's such a good baby," replied Lacey. "I didn't know who else to turn to when I approached Steve."

"You did good," he said warmly. "Steve's family. He wants to talk to you so I'll give him his phone. Will you wait for me? I never did find anyone else and I hope we have something worth waiting for, especially now."

"As long as it takes," she replied enthusiastically. "I never found anyone either. Those eyes captured me from the start. You call me when you can. Oh, and Bucky? I got your letter. Thank you for that."

"The CIA has your book that I took from you and the one I bought," he said hesitantly. "Sorry for losing them. Hopefully they don't come looking for you."

"I'm in a safe location," she replied. "Don't worry about the books. Just be safe."

She felt a joy in her that made her feel giddy inside. When Steve started talking to her she had to ask him to repeat what he said.

"I'm going underground," he said. "This might be the last you hear from me for a while. But I have the location of where Clint and the others are. I'll get them out. There's a good chance Clint can make a deal for house arrest. He'll be stuck on the farm but he'll be with his family."

"Steve, why did Tony blast Bucky's arm off?" asked Lacey.

There was a long pause. "Bucky killed Tony's parents when he was the Winter Soldier," he replied. "Zemo had traffic cam footage. It sent Tony into a rage. Bucky and I had to team up and fight him together to stop him. I don't think he'll come after you but if he shows up at the farm he probably won't be friendly."

"So much hurt," commented Lacey. "The Avengers are finished then?"

"For now," answered Steve. "I sent him an olive branch but it will be up to him to accept it."

"You told Bucky about the baby," she stated.

"Yeah," he admitted, and she could picture him looking down as he answered. "It was important for him to know the truth and now he has something to come home to."

"Not if the CIA has their way," said Lacey. "They want him dead."

"Well, they're complicit in his captivity and torture," he replied. "Those HYDRA files Natasha released? The man who framed Bucky was able to crack the encryption on a number of them. The CIA knew about him in the late 1940s, early 1950s. They knew and did nothing to rescue him because they had aspirations for their own Winter Soldier program, soldiers they could control, unlike me. Fury knows a very good lawyer who has agreed to represent Bucky. He thinks he can get Bucky a pardon."

Lacey couldn't help it as a sob escaped her throat, then another and another. Her cries were loud enough to wake Tommy and he started to cry. She put the phone on speaker as she lifted Tommy out of the cradle trying to soothe him and herself at the same time. Bucky's voice came back on.

"Is that the baby crying?" he asked. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," replied Lacey, opening her nightgown to nurse Tommy. "He's just hungry, always hungry this one."

"That might be the super soldier in him," said Bucky. "We need a lot of calories to function. Give him lots of bottles."

"No bottle for this baby, it's Mommy and solid foods," replied Lacey. "Every four hours, like clockwork."

"I'll bet you look beautiful nursing him," said Bucky wistfully. "I wish I was there right now."

"My phone has video capability," said Lacey. "Next time you call use the video call on your end."

"He will," said Steve, interrupting. "Look, tell Laura that I'll get Clint home. You take care of yourself and Tommy. Somehow Bucky will come back to you, I promise."

"Okay, goodbye Steve, goodbye Bucky," said Lacey softly. "You take care of yourselves as well."

She hung up and looked lovingly at Tommy. "That was your Dad," she said. "He knows about you and he wants us to be a family." Tommy smiled at her as he nursed. "You like that, don't you? I don't know when he can come home but I'll tell you everything I know about him. Then he won't be a stranger to you when he does finally return."

When Lacey heard Laura get up she told her about the phone call and what Steve said. It was hard to temper their expectations but they did, working the farm together. About ten days after the phone call a large black SUV drove up to the farm and FBI Agent Jones stepped out from the driver's seat. Lacey could barely disguise her hostility but he wasn't there just to see her. He opened the passenger door of the SUV and Clint stepped out. Both men walked to where Lacey and Laura were sitting on the steps holding their babies.

"Hi honey, I'm home," said Clint, smiling in that understated way he had. "I'm retired for good this time." He lifted the cuff of his pant leg revealing an ankle monitor. "Agent Jones of the FBI is the only one who knows about the farm and will come looking if I step outside a 10 mile radius from it. It means I can still pick up your mail Lacey."

She glared at the agent and Jones looked frustrated. "I'm not your enemy, Lacey," he said. "I suspected you had other reasons for asking for the Avengers help and I can see by that little guy exactly what that was. I'm not judging. Take a walk with me, please."

Clint nodded his agreement and Lacey stood up, still carrying Tommy. She and Agent Jones walked towards a small hill that overlooked most of the farm's crop land.

"How come you are on Clint's file?" she asked. "You were based in Delaware."

"I got transferred," he replied. "We closed your file. The Russians don't seem to be as interested in you anymore. All the same, if you can keep a low profile, which isn't easy considering your book is selling well, I would be happier. I received a phone call from a Nick Fury, very persuasive man, who suggested I keep an eye on Clint and you at the same time. He sent me a digital file with some decrypted HYDRA files on it. Those HYDRA files prove that the CIA left Barnes in the hands of an enemy willingly. As far as I'm concerned they're the guilty party in most of this. Barnes was a victim and I truly hope he gets the help he needs."

She stopped and looked at him almost in disbelief. "You're on Bucky's side now?" she asked.

"Although I was looking for Barnes as a law man there was a lot about him that didn't add up," he admitted. "The CIA painted him as this monster who was out of control. Yet he spent time with you, helping you with your repairs, then took on four very dangerous Russian heavies without killing them. Until he was framed for the Vienna bombing there was no sign of him, no word of him hurting or killing anyone. That didn't seem like a killer out of control. It did seem like a man rejecting his past and trying to be better."

"Do you know where he is?" asked Lacey.

"I have an idea," replied Jones. "Truthfully there isn't any place here in the States that can treat him for what HYDRA did to him. The brainwashing is so deeply embedded it will require some new thinking to treat it. There is one place in the world that may, just may, have that technology. Wakanda. Prince T'Challa was all for hunting Barnes down and killing him himself in retaliation for the death of his father. Then he suddenly appeared with another man, a Colonel Zemo, and said he was the man who set up Barnes. I suspect he feels guilty about how he viewed Barnes and he wants to make amends."

"Then you know more than I do," replied Lacey, at first wondering if she should say more. "I heard from Bucky. He wouldn't tell me where he was. Old habits die hard, I guess. He did say they were going to treat him for the HYDRA brainwashing, and replace his arm."

"Good," said Jones bluntly. "It's a beginning anyways. As for you and this little guy, no one will hear about him from me. He looks just like Barnes, doesn't he?"

Jones tickled Tommy under his chin and the little boy giggled, making the FBI agent smile. They walked back to where Clint was holding Nathaniel.

"I'll come out to see you on an irregular basis," said Jones. "If you have to go outside of the 10 mile radius for any reason call me and I will escort you. Otherwise enjoy your retirement."

"Agent Jones?" called Lacey, remembering one more thing. "Did you ever find out if there was a leak at your end? You know, about the flash drive?"

"Yeah, there was," replied the agent. "The same person who ordered me to bug your home. He owed money to the Russian mob, got in over his head during an underground poker game. One of the Russian heavies recognized him and I saw it on his face. We checked him out and found the evidence. Thanks to you we found an informant for the Russian mafia high up in the FBI."

He returned to his vehicle and left. Laura looked at Clint. "Lacey had a phone call from Bucky," she said. "Steve told him about the baby."

"Good," said Clint. "He's a good fighter and he handled himself well."

"But what did you think of him?" asked his wife.

"He's okay?" asked Clint. "It's not like I was able to have a long conversation with him." The two women giggled and he looked exasperated at first then shook his head. "I'm going to shower and change. Then you can tell me everything you know and I'll tell you everything I know."

When Clint came back he held Nathaniel while he described everything that happened at Leipzig Airport, including the serious injury suffered by Colonel Rhodes. He briefly described being imprisoned on the Raft, refusing to go too much into detail about how they were treated there. Then he described how Steve Rogers broke into the prison and released them, transporting them to a safe location.

"Scott Lang, a new guy from San Francisco, also turned himself in and agreed to house arrest," said Clint. "He has a little girl and didn't want to miss out on her growing up. Wanda has gone into hiding. Sam and Steve went underground. I can't believe Prince T'Challa gave sanctuary to Barnes. He blamed Barnes for his father's death until they found out that Zemo set him up."

"Bucky wouldn't say if he was in Wakanda," said Lacey, "but he said that he would be treated for the activation words."

"Still have a thing for him?" asked Clint.

"He said if he had known about Tommy he would have returned right away and made it right," replied Lacey. "To a 1940s guy that means marrying me, right?" Clint nodded, smiling. "He asked me to wait for him, so we could find out if we do have something. I said I would."

"It could be a long time," cautioned Clint.

"I know," replied Lacey, touching Tommy's hair. "Agent Jones figured the Wakandans have to invent a whole new process to treat him. Who knows how long it will take?"

"Well, I'm out of it now," said Clint, kissing Nathaniel on the head. "My life is here, for good." Laura put a hand on his. "You're still welcome to stay with us, Lacey. I think Laura and I kind of got used to having you around."

"Thanks," she replied. "It does feel like home here. I think when Bucky and I do figure out our relationship I'll buy a farm. The life has kind of grown on me." She lifted Tommy up in the air. "You like it here, don't you, little man?"

Both Clint and Laura smiled kindly at her and Tommy as he squealed. His squeals set Nathaniel off and the two boys found an audience for their antics. Laura went into the house and brought out a blanket for the two babies to lie on. Nathaniel was already crawling and Tommy watched him intently as he laid on his back. Rolling over he tried several times to raise himself onto his hands and knees. When he finally did then stood up immediately both Clint and Laura expressed surprise but for Lacey it was confirmation that Tommy was special. He had super soldier blood and that meant a whole new level of protection would be needed for him. Until Bucky could be with them it would have to come from a bunch of Avengers that were scattered to the winds. At least here on the farm he was isolated and for now that would have to do.

Chapter 9>>

Series Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #steve rogers #clint barton #laura barton #avengers civil war

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440mxs-wife · 4 months

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Treasure Quest, Chapter 10: New Adventures (FIN)

Pairing: Captain Dean x Rhaya Payton (OFC) Other Characters: Benny, Sam, Jessica, and Baby John Winchester, Jack (mentioned). Lord Darius Payton, Connor (OMC's), Captain Keira, Darcy (OFC's).

Word Count: 5351

Warnings: Some Angst, Lovers' Quarrel, Misunderstanding, but there's a HAPPY ending (I promise)!🥰

Series Summary: Rhaya Payton is the daughter of the governor of Ochana. She grew up listening to her father tell her stories of pirates and treasure maps. At a gala one night, her stepmother, Carissa, announces Rhaya’s engagement to Ashton Kane, a wealthy nobleman. Only problem is, no one checked with Rhaya first. After overhearing plans made by her fiancé, Rhaya decides to go on the run and stows away on Captain Dean’s ship. What will happen when he finds her?

This Chapter: So, who is the Duke of Rosevale....?

Rhaya's troubles continue as her father has arranged a diplomatic reception for the new Duke of Rosevale. Unfortunately, meeting the duke doesn't go anywhere near as well as planned and leads to a verbal confrontation. A meeting in the courtyard later in the evening may hold the key to a resolution between them and a possible new adventure. Can their love be saved? Tune in to find out....Enjoy!

A/N: To all of you who have read, liked, reblogged, commented, or interacted with this story in any way: thank you. We have reached the end of the story for our favorite captain and governor's daughter. It has been my pleasure to bring this story to life for you, and I thank you all from the bottom of me heart. ❤️

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Rhaya entered her bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind her. She slipped off her shoes and flopped backwards onto her bed, then heaved a deep sigh. As she stared at the ceiling, she reviewed a conversation she'd had with her father about some affairs of state.

Earlier in the day, her father had requested a meeting to inform her of an upcoming diplomatic function. The event was scheduled to occur in less than two weeks, and he wanted it to be a formal one. This meant she'd have to be on her best behavior, which she wasn't really keen on, considering her current emotional state.

The purpose, he'd said, was to introduce the new Duke of Rosevale to his inner circle of associates. He also planned to announce him as Ochana's newest ally and business partner. Thus the need for a more ceremonial approach, and his reason for including her in the process.

While he explained the situation, her father watched as she fought to keep her facial expression somewhat neutral. He knew of her dislike for official functions, and her feelings of sadness at her captain's prolonged absence. In the end, her sense of duty won out, and she promised her father she would conduct herself properly when she met the new Duke of Rosevale.

***

Three days before the duke's arrival, Rhaya had just returned from an appointment where the finishing touches were being placed on her gown for the gala. She was walking towards her bed to relax for a bit when there was a knock at the door. After taking a seat at the foot of the bed, she called out "Come in!", and the door opened with Darcy on the other side. She was giddy with excitement, which raised Rhaya's curiosity, though she couldn't quite muster the same level of enthusiasm.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Our guests arrived in port early, and I was sent by your father to bring you to the main hall to meet them," Darcy explained. "He said to make sure you were presentable."

"Ha! That's a laugh. Rarely am I presentable, nor do I want to be, especially not for this Duke of Rosemont or whatever his name is," Rhaya muttered.

"It's the Duke of Rosevale, and your father said you have twenty minutes to get ready," Darcy warned.

"Ugh, fine. Let's go," Rhaya begrudgingly agreed and headed for her ensuite bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, she had quickly washed up, changed out of her pants and tunic, and into a more appropriate pale pink day dress. Darcy fashioned a princess braid across the back of Rhaya's head like a crown, with the rest of her hair left untethered. Her makeup was minimal and neutral in color, except for the pink lipstick.

Upon her arrival in the main hall, she saw her father deep in conversation with a few visitors. There was one man in particular who caught her eye, dressed in dark brown pants, which were tucked into knee-high black leather boots. He was wearing a burgundy-colored, long sleeved tunic with a hem that reached to his mid-thigh. Around his middle was a black belt and a sword hanging from it. From behind, she thought the man looked a little familiar. She shrugged off the notion, figuring she'd learn his identity soon enough.

When Lord Darius spotted his daughter, he called out to her and waved her over to join them. As soon as the visitor heard the name, he stopped mid-sentence and turned around. His eyes brightened when they landed on the woman who had been occupying his every waking thought for the past three months. As she approached their circle, he couldn't help but marvel at how her beauty seemed to have only increased since the last time they'd met.

Rhaya stopped in her tracks when she saw who was speaking with her father. What is Dean doing here? No one told me he was coming back, only that we were hosting the Duke of....her thoughts trailed off. It can't be.... she silently pondered.

Lord Darius' voice interrupted her train of thought. "Ah, Rhaya, there you are. Your Grace, may I present my daughter, Rhaya Payton. Rhaya, please welcome the Duke of Rosevale, though I believe you know him better as Captain Dean Winchester," he explained.

Rhaya caught Dean's gaze and held it for a few tense seconds until finally extending her hand in his direction. "Your Grace," she murmured, giving him a slight curtsy.

Dean's lips twisted into a sly grin as he curled his fingers around hers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Lady Rhaya, it is truly wonderful to see you again. May I present my brother, Samuel Winchester, his wife, Jessica, and their newborn son, John. Also with me is my advisor, Robert Singer, and two members of my crew, Master Gunner Benjamin Lafitte, and Ensign Jack Kline."

Lord Darius and his daughter nodded to each of the members of Dean's entourage as they were introduced. Glancing at the faces of everyone, she was met with genuine happiness at seeing her again. Then she remembered her feelings of the last three months that had passed with little to no word from Dean, who had promised to return. "Excuse me," she mumbled before picking up her skirts and turning to leave the room.

"Miss Payton! Miss Payt--Rhaya, wait, please!" he called.

Rhaya was about halfway to the door when she stopped in her tracks. "Wait?? Wait?!? You want me to wait??" she whirled around to face him, glaring with angry, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. "For the past three months, I've done nothing but wait! For you!"

Lord Darius and the others exchanged somewhat shocked and awkward glances at his daughter's outburst of temper. They weren't exactly sure what to do, and they all preferred to be anywhere but there at the moment. "Rhaya, dearest--" he started.

"Papa, I'd like to speak in private with Captain Winchester, the Duke of Rosevale, or whoever he is, please," she spoke, fighting to keep her voice even. Her father nodded, and everyone filed out, leaving Rhaya and Dean alone in the room.

"Rhaya, please let me explain," Dean begged.

She held up her hand to silence him as she walked over to a nearby chair, her arms crossed over her chest. "Do you have any idea what it's been like for me, waiting for you to come back? The longer we were apart and the less I heard from you, the more doubts crept into my head. Some days, they were so loud that I couldn't ignore them, no matter how hard I tried. When you didn't return after two months, I had to concede that they were right, that I wasn't worth it and that you'd changed your mind."

"Sweetheart, I promised I would be back for you. I'm sorry that it took so long, but there was never any 'changing my mind' at any point. I'm here now, for you," he pleaded, taking a seat near her.

Rhaya sighed deeply and shook her head before continuing. "Come on, Captain, I'm not stupid. One look at you, a handsome, heroic ship's captain, off to find buried treasure. You're a true leader, strong, noble, who cares more for those around him than he does for himself. What's not to love about that? I'm sure wherever you go, women practically fall at your feet for even a chance to have something with you."

"But--"

"And then there's me. Only daughter to the governor of Ochana, who is automatically assumed to look down her nose at people. She's spoiled, entitled, unintelligent, with no discernible skills except how to spread gossip and keep up on the latest fashions. No one is falling at my feet for the opportunity to learn anything about me past those assumptions," she shook her head sadly. "Most men are only interested in courting me to get near my father. Their ambitions involve obtaining a slice of his power and influence rather than anything to do with me."

"That's not--"

"So, I hope you can see how I might interpret your delayed return as a change of heart? Realize that I don't occupy your every thought like you do mine? Or how--" she choked back a sob then continued. "How you preferred to return to someone from your past instead of explore the future with me?" she whispered.

"There is no one else, past or present--" he vehemently denied.

Rhaya stood up from her chair. "I know you didn't intend for it to work out this way between us, but maybe it's for the best. Perhaps we should call it like it is and remember the good times we had, formed through an unlikely friendship. We're just too different for this to go any further, and for that, I'm sorry. Good evening, Your Grace." She gave him a watery smile, dipped a quick curtsy, and left him staring helplessly after her.

Dean remained seated, his head in his hands, with his shoulders slumped in defeat. How did everything go so wrong, so quickly? he wondered. He was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Rhaya, to once again feast his eyes on her beauty and finally express his feelings for her. He had not expected his dealings in Alcaria to have taken so much precious time away from her. And now it seemed that such delays had cost him what he wanted most at this point in his life.

From the doorway, he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat. When he looked up, he saw a member of the house staff, offering to escort him to the dining room as soon as he was ready. The man explained that Sam and the rest would soon be shown to the table as well. Dean thanked him and motioned for the staff member to lead the way.

***

Rhaya hastened towards her room, tears threatening to fall from her lashes. As she passed the dining room, she asked a staff member to tell her father that she would not be joining him. When the staff member expressed concern, Rhaya assured her that all was well. She explained that it was only a headache that left her feeling less than herself at the moment. The young lady wished her a swift recovery and promised that the governor would be informed of her absence at dinner.

Once inside her room with the door closed firmly behind her, Rhaya's composure slipped and the tears gave way from her eyes. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly? she sobbed. She should've been overcome with joy to finally see Dean, in person. Especially after the amount of time that had passed without one word from him.

Instead, she allowed her insecurities to get the best of her. She accused him of using her for his own amusement, which she knew in her heart wasn't true. At this point, she wouldn't blame him if he decided she wasn't worth the effort after all and returned to Alcaria without another word. Especially since she'd all but insisted that whatever connection they had was likely to have run its course. Those and other thoughts only served to restart the flow of tears down her face.

As the late afternoon sun gave way to the evening twilight, Rhaya lay on her bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. While she wondered if there was any way to fix what was broken between her and Dean, she heard a knock at the door. A spark of hope lit inside her, when she thought for a fleeting moment if her captain was on the other side. She couldn't help the flicker of disappointment that crossed her face when her sister opened the door.

"Missed you at dinner," Keira remarked. Rhaya nodded and mumbled an apology. "Yeah, your father conveyed your regrets to everyone for you not attending, said you had a headache?" Again, a nod, but no verbal response. "Rhy, honey, what's really going on?" she asked gently.

Rhaya heaved a deep sigh before launching into an account of what happened after everyone left the main hall. She explained her feelings to Dean and why she was so upset when he didn't return when promised. "I figured I had to be making it all up in my head, that I wasn't as important to him as he is to me," she confessed. "I thought there was no way I measured up to what he deserves, especially now that he's a duke."

Keira crawled up onto the bed to sit next to her and covered her sister's hand with her own. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he is in love with you, Rhaya. That means he knows you and has accepted you as you are. I saw it every time he said your name or we told each other stories about you. He drove us all crazy on that treasure hunt, me in particular," she laughed.

Rhaya gave her a glimmer of a smile. "He did? How?"

"Every minute of the day, he bugged the hell out of me by asking me so many questions about you." Keira turned to her sister with a fond smile on her face. "He's the real deal, honey. Besides, he knows that if he hurts you, he has to answer to me," she declared, which caused Rhaya to laugh.

"Do you think I can fix this?" Rhaya asked with hope in her eyes.

"Hmm. I think it's possible. Might involve some groveling, but I have faith that the two of you can work it out," Keira replied with a wink.

***

After dinner, Dean went on a self-guided tour of the mansion, rather than heading straight back to his room. In the process, he found a courtyard and entered through the open double doors off the main hallway. The area felt like an oasis of calm, which was exactly what he needed after the events of a few hours ago.

In the center was a stone fountain, encircled by a ledge for sitting and listening to the bubbling water. Tendrils of jasmine vines climbed the outside walls of the mansion. The white blooms produced a heady but comforting fragrance during the evening hours. Could be useful, should sleep elude me, he thought.

Benny saw his captain leave the dining room while the rest of the group was sipping on coffee, tea, or whiskey. Jess excused herself early because it was time for John's feeding, while Sam remained behind for the after-dinner drinks and conversation. He noticed Dean was a bit withdrawn at dinner, leading him to conclude that the conversation with Rhaya didn't end well.

He watched as Dean lowered himself to sit on the ledge of the fountain, then tilted his head up toward the night sky. "Hey, there you are, Chief. Whatcha doin' out here? You're missin' drinks with Sam and the governor," he mentioned.

Dean laughed softly as he absently trailed his fingertips through the water. "Nah, not my thing. Good for Sammy, though." He heaved a deep sigh and shook his head gently. "Really made a mess of things, haven't I? I was hoping for a chance to clear things up with her, but she didn't make it to dinner. Guess she couldn't even stand to see me across from her at the table," he muttered.

"Chief, don't be so tough on yourself, and try not to read too much into it. Her father said it was a headache, so I'm sure that's all it was. Give her some time, I'll bet she changes her mind once she's had a chance to think about things," Benny replied.

"I don't think so, Benny. She all but flat-out told me that whatever was between us has run its course, that we're not meant to be together. Instead, she'd rather just remember the good times we had," he remarked.

"Is that what you want?" Benny asked.

"Of course not!" Dean blurted. "I want to be with her so badly it hurts. I'll admit, we didn't really get along at first, but once we got to know each other....she's amazing, Benny. Strong, kind, selfless, and I can't help but be captivated by her. She's tough as nails one minute, then sweet and compassionate the next."

Benny's heart went out to his friend. As upset as his captain was, he knew Rhaya was the only one for Dean. "I know you got to know her real well and you two got close, Chief. For that reason and so many others, you can't give up. You have to fight for her, at least long enough to tell her how you feel about her," he advised.

"How can I do that if she won't even give me a chance?" he exclaimed. "You know, as smart as she is, and as beautiful as she is, she also can be so--so--" Dean buried his fingers in his hair and growled in frustration as he searched for the right word.

"Stubborn? Headstrong? Infuriating?" a voice called from the doorway. Both men looked at each other in surprise, because the comment definitely didn't come from either of them. Their focus returned to the entrance to the courtyard to see Rhaya standing there, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.

This was the opportunity that Dean needed, so Benny decided to take his leave. On his way out, he paused in the doorway, locked eyes with Rhaya and gave her a reassuring nod. "Take care of him, chérie," he murmured. His hand gently landed on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before he disappeared from sight.

"Good evening, Lady Rhaya," Dean greeted with a quick bow, once he'd recovered his composure.

"Good evening, Your Grace," she replied softly. "You know, this is one of my most favorite places on these grounds. I hope you find it as relaxing as I do."

An awkward silence stretched between them as neither one knew quite what to say to the other. Dean was cautious, not wanting to blurt out something and send Rhaya scurrying away from his presence. Meanwhile, she needed answers, but didn't want to sound demanding. To do so would risk closing the door on any prospect of the two of them remaining together.

The two of them paced around the courtyard, deep in thought, only pausing briefly so as not to run into each other. Rhaya decided to take a seat on the stone ledge surrounding the fountain, with Dean following suit almost immediately after her. She kept her eyes on her hands folded neatly in her lap. At the same time, he studied her, trying desperately to find any clues as to her current state of mind.

The tension in air grew thicker with anticipation, until she broke the silence. She reached over to cover one of his hands with her own, but pulled back at the last second. "Dean, I want to apologize for being terribly unfair to you earlier. I'm sure that whatever kept you away from Ochana for so long must have been important. You're a man of your word, and you've never given me reason to doubt that. I'm so sorry for what I said to you," she confessed, still unable to meet his eyes.

"I had hoped for a warmer reception, considering the length of time we spent apart," he replied. "But I understand why you reacted in the way that you did," he hastily added, covering her hands with his own. "Sweetheart, please look at me," he murmured, reaching over to bring her face within his line of vision. "You deserve to be loved and cherished, and I'm sorry if I did anything to make you think otherwise."

Rhaya jerked her head away from his hand, instantly missing his comforting caress. "You don't have to apologize or say that," she replied with a shy smile. "I mean, I know I'm far too opinionated, I jump to conclusions, and I definitely speak without thinking first. Though, I really should work on all of that, because it leads to a lot of apol--mmpf--" Her self-deprecating ramble was cut off when a pair of plump, soft lips connected with hers.

Dean couldn't bear to hear any more disparaging comments made about the woman he loved, not even from the woman herself. So, he chose to resolve the issue in the simplest way he knew, while at the same time declaring his feelings for her.

The kiss started tentatively at first, as if he was giving her a way out, in case she wanted or needed to take it. As her mouth began to move more confidently with his, he could sense her relaxing into the kiss, so he chose to deepen it. He was rewarded when he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance and gave a slight groan when she granted it. A small moan of satisfaction escaped from her as their tongues battled for dominance.

One of his hands roamed up her side, from her waist to her back, while his other hand slipped around to tangle his fingers in her hair. A slight pressure to the back of her head gently kept them connected as he devoured her lips in a near-bruising kiss. Rhaya's hands traveled up Dean's chest, until she cradled his neck with both hands. Then her fingers began to twirl themselves around the curled ends of his hair, gently tugging on them.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both panting, each trying to catch their breath from what just happened. Dean leaned his forehead against Rhaya's as he attempted to return his heartbeat to a somewhat normal rhythm. Her hands moved back down to tilt his head up so he could see her eyes and realize the depth of the love she held for him.

"I'm in love with you, Rhaya. Exactly as you are, whether you're outspoken, or whatever, I don't care," he declared. "You're a smart, compassionate, kind, and absolutely beautiful woman who lights up any room she enters. It would mean the world to me if I can call you mine," he added.

"I'm in love with you too, Dean. Exactly as you are, and whether you're a duke or a ship's captain makes no difference to me. And I am yours, as long as you don't mind a woman who knows her way around a ship better than some fancy society function," she remarked with a nervous smile.

Dean glanced lovingly into Rhaya's eyes, his fingertips gently grazing her jawline. "Nah, darlin', I wouldn't have you be any other way. I knew you were meant for me when you threw that dagger at my head, but nailed my hat to the doorframe instead. Ruined a perfectly good hat, I'll have you know," he muttered teasingly.

Rhaya burst into giggles at her memory of that moment. "Great first impression, huh?" she observed sheepishly as she snuggled closer and rested her head on his chest. "I knew that first night you caught me out on deck in my nightclothes. Out of propriety, I was headed back to my room, but you asked me to stay. I'm so glad I did, as it was my first of our many astronomy lessons."

He wrapped his arms around her and sighed deeply in satisfaction when he felt her melt against his body. "Hmm, I remember that," he smiled as he recalled that night. She looked so ethereal that night, with the moonlight giving her strawberry-blond hair a rosy glow as it cascaded down her back.

The two of them stayed locked in each other's arms, with her back leaning against his toned, muscular chest. They sat beside the fountain watching as the moon rose over the hills in the distance. One by one, the stars came into view until there were so many it appeared as though someone painted the heavens in a fine metallic dust. Their excitement grew when a meteor shower began, which sent streaks of light dashing across the inky night sky.

***

After some time had passed, Rhaya pulled herself up into a sitting position and turned to face her captain. "Dean? I have a favor to ask of you," she began nervously.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he inquired.

"Will you....that is, when you....," she stammered, then took a deep breath to calm her frustration with herself before continuing. "After the gala and you return home to Alcaria....will you please take me with you?" she asked timidly.

Half a heartbeat passed before a beaming smile broke out over Dean's face, causing the crinkles around his eyes to appear. "I would be the happiest man in the world if you would return with me to Alcaria," he replied. "I-I was going to ask you, but I wanted to wait until it was the right time. What do you think your father will say?" he wondered.

Rhaya tilted her head in thought at his question. "A long time ago, Keira asked me once to run away with her too, and together we would sail the high seas. I think he would've been supportive of me, had I decided to go then, but I couldn't leave him with Carissa and all of her scheming. She probably would've convinced him to never let me come back," she muttered.

"Fortunately, she's no longer a factor," he smirked. Rhaya matched his grin and nodded, then shifted her position to snuggle further into Dean's chest.

***

The next day, Rhaya asked to speak with her father prior to the gala about an important matter. She met with him alone for afternoon tea while Dean waited outside the doors, in case she needed his support. The longer he waited, the more anxious he grew as he continued to pace out in the hall. His mind drifted to thinking that Lord Darius would forever banish him from Ochana for the mere suggestion of taking his daughter away from her home.

When he could no longer bear to wait, Dean turned on his heel and marched towards the door to the governor's study. Before he could reach for the handle, the door flew open. Rhaya and her father walked out, with the governor pulling him into a warm embrace. "Take care of her," Lord Darius whispered before releasing him. Dean nodded in silent promise to do exactly that and more.

Over the next week, Rhaya set about the task of packing her belongings for her move to Alcaria. She decided to leave behind whatever didn't fit into her largest trunk and one of her duffle bags. Most of her dresses were left hanging in her closet, since she wouldn't have much use for the fancier ones in Alcaria. Newer, more practical garments were already being made and would be finished by the time she left Ochana. Until then, her tunics and trousers would have to suffice.

The evening before his daughter's departure, Lord Darius hosted a gathering for Dean and his crew from The Black Diamond. Keira and Darcy were among the guests, as were Connor and any other members of the house staff wishing to say their goodbyes. Many toasts were made, as were promises of future return visits to the land she'd called home for so many years.

Everyone met down at the docks the next morning for the final farewells. Rhaya promised Darcy that she would come back to Ochana whenever she was able. However, in the meantime, she suggested for her friend to consider accepting Connor's offer to allow him to court her. This brought a deep blush to Darcy's cheeks at Rhaya's advice, followed by a shy glance in the captain of the guard's direction.

The most difficult goodbye was between father and daughter. On one hand, Lord Darius was at peace with his decision for Rhaya to leave the nest and find her place in the world. He knew she had a good man at her side, one who would take the best care of her and treat her the way she deserved.

On the other hand, he would miss seeing her bright smile and loving face every day around the estate. He knew the staff would take the utmost care of him and ensure to the best of their ability that all of his needs were met. The special bond between father and daughter, though, would be impossible to replicate with anyone else. The first few days without Rhaya would be among the hardest, but he knew this was for the best.

Lord Darius gazed fondly at his daughter. In his mind, it was only a short time ago that she was nine years old, deep in her studies but aggressively avoiding her math tutor. Now he marveled at the grown woman before him, of whom he could not be more proud. He held his arms out and she ran to be engulfed in his embrace. "I love you, Papa. Thank you for this amazing opportunity. I'll--We'll come visit as often as we can. Or, maybe we can arrange to host some sort of 'diplomatic function' in Alcaria," she grinned.

He laughed at her solution to enable him to visit her more often. "I'm sure we can work something out, sweet pea. I will miss you, though," he commented fondly as he glanced over in Dean's direction. "He's a good man, Rhaya. I had a rather lengthy discussion with him after you didn't marry Ashton. When the time is right, he knows he has my blessing," he winked.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as her cheeks blushed furiously at the implication of her father's words. "Papa!" she gently admonished. "It's much too soon for that, we're still getting to know each other."

Lord Darius shrugged. "Perhaps too soon, perhaps not. When you know, you know, just like it was for me with your mother. She'd be so proud of you," he responded with a watery smile. "I certainly am proud of you."

"Oh, Papa," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you so much," she choked out.

"I love you very much, my darling daughter," he whispered.

Not wanting to intrude, Dean kept a few paces' distance away. As father and daughter gave each other one last embrace, he approached them and stood behind Rhaya, his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry to have to do this, my love, but we really must start our journey," he explained. He turned to Lord Darius with his hand outstretched, only to be pulled into a tight but affectionate hug from the man.

"Take care of each other. And remember, you always have a home here on Ochana," Lord Darius remarked gruffly, trying to hold back his tears at Rhaya's departure.

Dean nodded and gently took hold of Rhaya's elbow to guide her towards the gangplank to board his ship. They walked together, hand-in-hand, and when they reached the top, they turned to face the group on the docks. Dean waved goodbye, while Rhaya blew a kiss to her father before also giving a wave.

Once they were on board, the gangplank was removed and the docking ropes were released. The ship left port and began its return to Alcaria with one more passenger than what they arrived with. Dean wrapped his arms around Rhaya from behind as they stood near the bow of the ship while it sailed towards open waters.

"Ready to start your adventure, my love?" he asked.

"As long as I'm with you, I know every day will be an adventure," she replied with a beaming smile. "I love you, O Captain, my Captain."

"And I love you, my darling," he murmured near her ear.

***

Some years later....

"Grandpapa, will you please tell me a story?" seven-year-old Laila pleaded. She was in her pajamas and nestled under her blankets, but there was no way she could sleep without a story.

"All right, Laila," Lord Darius chuckled. "What shall it be this time, princesses and frogs, knights and ogres, or...." he trailed off with a smirk, knowing what she really wanted to hear.

"Pirates, Grandpapa! I want to hear about Mommy and Daddy's adventures on The Black Diamond!" she clapped. She could never get enough of his stories about her parents, and they were the best. He always injected such enthusiasm in the characters as he wove his tales of their adventures. And he could never resist an opportunity to entertain his granddaughter.

"Are you comfy, sweet pea?" Lord Darius asked. Laila nodded enthusiastically, and he took that as his cue. "Very well then. Once upon a time...."

FIN

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@janicho88 @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @lyarr24 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @jensengirl83 @wayward-dreamer @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride @ejlovespie @deandreamernp @emoryhemsworth @never--doubt @winchest09 @watermelonlipstick @makeadealwithdean @krazykelly @imherefordeanandbones @rooweighton @colereads @soaringeag1e @sams-sass @phoenixisred @muhahaha303

#pirate!dean x ofc #pirate!dean au #treasure quest

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nouies · 1 year

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thanks for your support! ♡ buy me a coffee? fics ordered from newest to oldest.

໑ spring in your eyes harry/louis | NR | 3k

“Just Go with It” inspired AU where plastic surgeon Harry pretends to be married to his assistant Louis to avoid unwanted attention.

໑ don’t let the fire die harry/louis | E | 8k

Harry makes a long trip to take back what is his.

໑ must be love louis/andrew garfield | NR | 6k

AU where Louis doesn’t know how to approach his neighbour, and Andrew keeps receiving homegrown vegetables at his door.

໑ could start a cult harry/louis | E | 8k

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.

or...Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.

໑ two languages, one love louis/cillian murphy | NR | 3k

The three times Louis speaks to Cillian in Spanish, and the one time he finally gets a response.

໑ Cold Spring louis/pedro pascal | E | 8k

Life went on as normal at Cold Spring Café. Sam’s scribbles remained indiscernible, Jake persisted on his idea of getting more pots for the shop, and Pedro…Pedro continued coming to drink his moderately-caffeinated americano, to write furiously in that notebook of his, and to captivate Louis to no end.

or…Louis is a coffee shop owner and Pedro is his newest customer.

໑ Harmony harry/louis | E | 6k

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state.

Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

໑ bet on it louis/omc | E | 3k

“We should make a bet,” Louis says out loud, waiting for Dante to look up from his tablet and see Louis’ pouty lips.

“Not a fucking chance.”

or…a fic inspired by Louis at the barricade during AFHF.

໑ the embers are new harry/louis | NR | 3k

Louis is a dragon vet whose life is changed after a long trip.

໑ seven, seven harry/louis | NR | 1k

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

໑ fuck around, find out harry/louis | E | 6k

Harry is a renowned chef convinced he’ll be the one to make Louis like avocado. It doesn’t end well.

໑ Devoted louis/alisson becker | E | 5k

A collection of drabbles about Louis’ life as the housewife of a professional football player.

໑ ready for a war harry/louis | E | 1k

Harry was so close to getting caught, and it was all on that stupidly pretty cocktail waiter.

໑ find our place louis/zayn | NR | 3k

“Fuck!” Louis says as he hangs up the phone and turns it off. He hopes the call didn’t connect, otherwise he would have to change his number. Again.

໑ over my shoulder louis/sebastian stan | E | 11k

The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time.

Everything changes when they accidentally bond.

໑ Needle harry/louis | NR | 666

“You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

໑ reckless behaviour harry/louis | E | 13k

Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

໑ Monday harry/louis | NR | 2k

A flower shop AU featuring a one-sided feud, puns, and a missing cat.

໑ more than that harry/louis | NR | 3k

Harry looks for the best bread in France. He finds Louis.

໑ beg me silently harry/louis | E | 2k

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

໑ Thank you, five. harry/louis | E | 5k

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

Prompt 195: Hamilton AU

໑ until you’re home harry/louis | E | 1k

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

໑ lying close to you harry/louis | NR | 2k

Harry’s been living for twenty-five years but he’s only felt alive for the past two.

#*#*f #my writing #lcty*#uyh*#tyf*#bms*#mtt*#monday*#rb*#needle*#oms*#fop*#rfaw*#devoted*#fafo*#ss*#tean*#boi*#harmony*#cs*#tlol*#csac*#mbl*#dltfd*#siye*

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negans-lucille-tblr · 1 year

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Watching Over You - Members' Exclusive Mini Series - TEASER

Summary: When Sam Winchester gets assigned a case, he finds himself more invested in it than any other job he’s surveyed before. Y/N is encaptivating, and with a little help from his work, he might just be able to win her over.

Rating: 18+ (Dark themes)

Pairing(s): FBI Agent!Sam x Reader || Reader x Dylan (OMC)

Tags: Secret surveillance, stalking, sexting, smut, angst, fluff, nude photography, mentions of bombs and terrorism, mentions of murder, unhealthy obsession, bad relationship, cheating, misogyny

Parts: 10 (± 28K Words total) A/Ns: This idea came about after talking about the FBI agent who is most likely assigned to survey the hive given some of the stuff we talk about in there 🤣 It was then commissioned by one of my members so is exclusive to my website!

Watching Over You Masterlist

“That’s my girl, you getting naked f’me?”

That’s when Sam springs into action, typing in the relevant coding. He should have the right software installed on his laptop for what he wants to do, and if he doesn’t he knows exactly what he’s doing first thing tomorrow; marching his laptop to the tech department and getting it installed.

It works, and suddenly there on his laptop is the view from Y/N’s webcam. He smirks, grateful to live alone right now, and turns up the volume just a little more. He mutes the live feed and focuses on the phone call instead, watching as she climbs off of her bed and starts to slowly undress.

“Yeah,” she confirms.

Dylan starts talking again, but for the most part Sam’s blocking it out once he hears that Dylan is talking about kissing her. Instead, Sam’s focused on her reaction, watching her reach down into the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pull out a toy, before placing it on the bed next to her. Sam can only thank whatever God exists for the fact that she’s left her laptop open and right there in front of her bed, presumably on her desk or dressing table, because he’s got near enough the perfect view. As perfect as it gets for a webcam, anyway. She spreads her legs slowly, and it’s a little fuzzy, but it’s good enough for Sam’s cock to start getting hard in his sweatpants, and he reaches inside them just as Y/N also puts a hand between her legs and starts to touch herself.

Gain access to this fic, and over 160 more exclusive fics, when you sign up to my website!

#watching over you #teaser #members exclusive #mini series #dark fic #sam x reader #smut #angst #fluff #commissioned #www.neganslucilletblr.com #support a writer #negans-lucille-tblr

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glygriffe · 1 year

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January Reading and Rec

It was interesting to document the fanfictions I read and loved for a specific month. So I'm doing it again! My January reading is mostly Supernatural related and on the short side. It's roughly categorized using the author's warning or my own judgment.

Enjoy!

Gen Fic

2AM Library Finds: Cute one-shot by @justkending where Dean is out of his element, if not his leagues, with the sassy reader. (Dean x Reader)

Hate or Love?: a 100 drabble by @rauko-creates for a ficwip drabble challenge. All the poetry of this author shines in this short piece. (Dean x Castiel)

Untitled: Destiel dancing in season 5 (5x03 fic gap). Do I need to say more? By @purgatorybfs (Dean x Castiel)

Untitled hands prompt: A very tactile POV on Castiel healing Dean by @bebecas (Dean x Castiel)

Bad Wolf: A case fic/ origin story from the point of view of the reader, by @wingedcatninja (No pairing)

The Confession of James Novak, FBI Most Wanted: what happened when Castiel is arrested and spills the beans on everybody and everything in his usual deadpan and over-truthful manner? by katscradle on A03. (lite Destiel)

Untitled: a fluffy prayers fic by @deancasroadtrip

Not Alone: A sicfic full of fluff set during the Covid pandemic by @mrswhozeewhatsis (Sam x Reader)

Forehead kiss: a light and fluffy little piece by @universalcas on a request by @envydean (Dean x Castiel)

Teen and Up

Stupid Angel: a Castiel POV on human affection by @posingasme (Sam x Castiel)

Life would never beat us (in a fair fight): a story about hurt and love and inadequacy feelings between siblings. By Annabethfavfics on AO3. "Their way of showing their love involves blocking bullets and yelling at each other." (Sam and Dean, at the end of season 2)

Fairy Cake Shop: A cute AU by @verobatto where half the characters are fairies, including Dean. (Dean x Castiel)

White collar and the pizza man: Dean Smith's orderly life is turned upside-down when his regular delivery guy is replaced by a free-spirited pizza man. By L'Ale/Amemipiaci_tu on AO3 (Dean x Castiel)

May 2nd: a retelling of most Sam's birthdays thru the years by TistedDuck on AO3. (No pairings)

Mature

Crash Through The Surface: Dean remembers his first in this bittersweet fic by @thoughtslikeaminefield (Dean x OMC)

Not Supernatural related

Hallmark Christmas "Bad Guys" AU: a comment-fic by @ghostcasket (I don't know how to go directly to the fic post, but the set-up helps, so...) You know the "dump the bad boyfriend/fiancé just before Xmas" trope? What if we saw the other side of those happily-ever-after stories? Original work (Levi x Xavier)

Following Frank: an original story about falling in love and reaching for what you want by verobatto on AO3. (Henry x Frank)

Left Behind: a poignant tale of a job gone wrong on Serenity (after the events of the movie) by imnotacommittee on AO3. (The Firefly crew)

War in these days: an original work by @verobatto on AO3 for the Fanfic Lounge's Weekly prompt challenge. Two military enemies are playing chess. One person can read minds, the other can see the future. (No pairing)

#rec list #fanfic rec

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roguelesbian-writes · 6 months

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You Can Travel The World A Million Times Just To Learn It Never Mattered

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/F

F/M

Gen

M/M

Multi

Fandom:

Stardew Valley (Video Game)

Relationships:

Sophia/Female Player (Stardew Valley)

Sophia & Female Player (Stardew Valley)

Sophia & Male Player (Stardew Valley)

Female Player & Male Player (Stardew Valley)

Characters:

OFC farmer

OMC farmer

Jameson Walsh

Ophelia Walsh

Sophia (Stardew Valley)

Shane (Stardew Valley)

Marnie (Stardew Valley)

Jas (Stardew Valley)

Zinnia - Character

Leah (Stardew Valley)

Elliott (Stardew Valley)

Haley (Stardew Valley)

Emily (Stardew Valley)

Lewis (Stardew Valley)

Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

Alex (Stardew Valley)

Sam (Stardew Valley)

Abigail (Stardew Valley)

Harvey (Stardew Valley)

Victor (Stardew Valley)

Vincent (Stardew Valley)

Olivia (Stardew Valley)

Maru (Stardew Valley)

Robin (Stardew Valley)

Demetrius (Stardew Valley)

Jodi (Stardew Valley)

Kent (Stardew Valley)

Junimo(s) (Stardew Valley)

i'll add more later probably

Additional Tags:

This is a lot more than ofc farmer x sophia

this is everyone in the valley being a mess and sorting theirs bs out

Romani Haley

Hard of Hearing Haley

Black Emily

Latina Marnie

Latino Shane

Afro-Latina Jas

Hijabi Jodi

Native American Leah

Black Elliott

Jewish Elliot

All the Mulners are Samoan

All the Mulners are Jewish

Plus-Size Abigail

Legit just DSV races

Religions

and ethnicities

except for Lewis

He's still white

Trans Sam

Trans Penny

This is the set up for a lore fic

be prepared for some fluff

Angst

and most of all

character developement

no beta we die like my sister's will to read this fic

she actually came up with that tag

We hate Lewis in this house

Marnie is gonna dump him in this series

Working title

Ophelia and Jameson Walsh moved to town to take over their late grandfather's farm a season ago, it's going great. Totally not stressed out over literally anything at all. Sam and Sebastion have been friends for as long as either of them can remember, this new feeling building between them doesn't have to change that, right? Abigail just wants to go on adventures and prove she's not weak or just that one weird chick, why can't her parents chill out for five seconds? Haley is living her semi-best life, she just wishes her parents could pretend to care about them sometimes. Emily feels something has shifted since the new farmers' came to town. Harvey is tired and wants to be able to nap for the first time since the farmers started going down to the caves. Alex is trying to build himself up to try to go pro, while dealing with a lot of self-doubt. Marnie is getting tired of Lewis' excuses, Shane's lack of self-care, and trying to balance everything. Zinnia wants to know more about her mother and her research and Gabriel just wishes she would stay safe. Penny's life is a mess but at least she has the kids and Maru. Leah and Elliott are tortured artist gays.

#roguelesbianwrites #Harlot writes things #stardew valley #stardew fanfic #sophia sve #female farmer x sophia

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jessybarnes · 1 year

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Golden Lines - Chapter Five - Insatiable Desires

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Jessica Anderson, Chris Evans x OFC Lily Stan, Sebastian Stan x OFC Jessica Anderson, Tom Hiddleston x OFC Ang DiLorenza

Chapter Five Characters: Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Tom Hiddleston, OFC Jessica Anderson, OFC Lily Stan, OFC Ang DiLorenza, OFC Amanda Evans (mentioned), OFC Mrs. Stevens, OMC Dean Wesson, OMC Sam Hammond, OMC Steve Hammond, OMC Scott Leighton, OMC Tommy King, Diana Hiddleston (Tom's Mom: mentioned), Scott Evans (mentioned), Carly Evans (mentioned), Shanna Evans (mentioned), Lisa Capuano (Chris’s Mom: mentioned), G. Robert Evans III (Chris’s Dad: mentioned), Georgeta Orlovschi (Sebastian’s Mom: mentioned), OFC Shayly Andrews (mentioned), OMC Jameson Andrews (mentioned), and Dodger

Chapter Five Rating: Explicit 18+

Chapter Five Tags: **** PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER BEFORE CONTINUING!!!! **** SMUT, NSFW title card, angst, fluff, teacher/student relationships, anxiety, drinking, underage drinking, nervousness, mentions of past trauma (specifically the following: injury to hand, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and mental abuse), mentions of shitty parents (specifically dead beat fathers), pining, blindfolds, skydiving, airplanes, flying, heights, free falling, vomiting, kissing, nipple play, oral (male receiving), deep throating, face fucking, cum swallowing, overstimulation, dry humping, clit play, fingering, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, a tiny instance of dom/sub (if you squint), praise kink, begging, finger sucking, oral (female receiving), jacking off, lying, crying, self-esteem/self-worth issues, bed sharing, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think I've covered everything… PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE STARTING THIS CHAPTER!

Chapter Five Word Count: 11,289 (GOOD LORD… This got away from me...grab a snack and a beverage, folks. Lol.)

Chapter Five Betas: T. Thompson and A. DiLorenza

Chapter Five Mini Title Card: Yours Truly

A/N: There are mentions of past physical, sexual, and mental abuse (as I stated above in the tags), and I've written this so if there are readers who need to skip that part, they can. There are asterisks that indicate where that part starts and ends if anyone needs to skip it! You won't miss anything if you do, I promise. ❤

The rest of the school week seems to drag itself out. Lily and Ang walk to Art class together, their finished assignments in hand. Angie is quiet, a little too quiet, and Lily immediately picks up on it. "Hey, babe. You good?"

She bites her lip nervously and glances over to her friend. "I'm scared, Lil. What if he doesn't like it?"

They walk into the classroom and take a seat at their normal table. "He's gonna love it, Ang. Tom's very much into art, at least, that's what Seb told me once."

She cocks her head to the side, "I just realized I never knew his first name until now. Tom is a fitting name, it suits him."

"Alright, class everyone settle down. I know all of you are excited for the weekend," Ang and Lily smirk at each other knowingly, "but we've still got an hour of school left. Everyone take out your finished pieces and have them ready for me to look at. I'll be walking around the room to give you a final grade."

Lily carefully unwraps her watercolor painting and sets it on the table. She wasn't sure what she was going to paint at first, but then she got to thinking about her Mom. Sebastian was only five when his Father left. He didn't have many memories of him, but he remembered the day he and their Mom were left alone, vividly.

Sebastian had told Lily the story on one of their movie nights and it's stuck with her ever since. He said that he had heard his Father yelling at their Mom, but he couldn't recall what he was angry about. He ran outside and followed him to his car, and shoved his hand in the door as it was being pulled closed. It smashed his fingers between the door and where it connected to the car. Sebastian told Lily that he did it because he thought that if his Father saw that he was hurt then he'd take him to the hospital and the doctor would say that he had to stay and take care of him. Instead, he watched him drive away. Seb chased the car, but was picked up by their Mom so she could wipe his tears and bandage his mangled hand.

Lily hasn't met her Father either, nor does she want to. Georgeta, their Mother, gives them everything they need. Sebastian was twenty when she was born, and helped take care of her as if she were his own and not his half sister. Their Mom is the strongest woman she's ever known. She always puts her and her brother first and never hesitates to go without just so they can be taken care of.

So, it's only fitting to dedicate her first watercolor painting to their Mom. It's of one of her favorite vacation spots. Lily remembers being a little girl, probably around ten, and going on vacation with her there. It was right around sunset, the reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks blanketed across the sky accenting with the mountain in the distance perfectly.

Painting it from memory was hard, but once she was finished it turned out to be the best one she's ever done.

Angie finishes unwrapping hers and gasps, "Lil! Oh, my god! That's beautiful!"

She smiles sheepishly, "not as beautiful as yours, love. Mr. H will probably cry when he sees that. I mean, for real though, that drawing should be in a museum."

Angie laughs and beams at her. "Only if your masterpiece is displayed right next to it!"

Mrs. Stevens makes her way over to their table and smiles as she looks over Lily's shoulder. "Ms. Stan, this is stunning! These watercolors are blended perfectly and the highlight on the mountain is beautifully done! You deserve an A."

"Thank you, Mrs. Stevens," Lily grins and watches as she moves over to look at Angie's.

"Oh… Oh, my goodness. Ms. DiLorenza this is breathtaking! The shading is impeccable and the blending is just the right amount. An A for you as well. The two of you are incredible artists! Mr. Hiddleston will surely appreciate this. Would you like to take it to him now? I don't believe he has a class."

Angie wrings her hands nervously, "I-I don't know. I'm kind of scared. What if he doesn't like it?"

Mrs. Stevens shakes her head. "Nonsense, dear. How about this? How about I call him down here. You can step out into the hallway for a bit of privacy, but you'll still be within earshot of the class. Sound good?"

Angie nodded. "Alright, it's settled."

A few minutes later she hears the familiar deep voice that she loves so much. She steals a quick glance and sees him standing just outside the doorway with her art teacher. He meets her eyes and she quickly looks away pulling her lip between her teeth. The sound of Mrs. Stevens' high heels click against the floor and stop just shy of their table. "He's waiting outside, dear. I'll be at my desk should you need me."

Angie takes a deep breath and stands up. Lily squeezes her hand for reassurance as she holds the drawing in the other. "You've got this, babe!"

Ang nods and slowly walks across the room to the door. She rounds the corner, holding the picture close to her chest as she looks up at him.

"Hi."

Even that one word sounds weak, but if Tom notices he doesn't point it out. "Hi, Ang. It's good to see you again." His accent sends a wave of arousal straight to her core. "I understand you have something for me?"

Angie looks down at the drawing clutched in her hands. "Well, I-I um…Mrs. Stevens… we-"

Tom places a warm hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, darling," he whispers. "Take your time."

Angie licks her lips, "our first assignment was to um...to create whatever we wanted. I wasn't-," she shifts her weight anxiously, "wasn't sure what to make so I just kind of zoned out a-and let my pencil have a mind of its own." Without making eye contact with him she holds the canvas out so he can take it. "I um...I made this...for you."

Tom hates to see his girl so nervous, but he can’t deny how adorable she looks standing in front of him like this. So innocent and - wait...did he just refer to Ang as his girl in his head? Well, that's new. She hands over the canvas without looking at him and toes at the tile floor with her shoe. He flips it over in his hands and sucks in a breath.

It's the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen. The detailed lines, the contrast of highlight and shade, and the attention to detail. It's...well, it's breathtaking, and the fact that it's a portrait of him makes it that more meaningful. Tom realizes he hasn't said anything, let alone released the breath he's been holding, and turns his attention back to Angie. She's shaking and picking at her fingernails and he has to force himself not to hug her.

"Darling, look at me."

She timidly raises her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"This is phenomenal, Ang. I...I'm speechless… I'm so honored that out of everything you could have drawn you chose me. Thank you."

She blinks a few times in rapid succession to keep from crying. "Well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to draw the most beautiful person in the world."

Fuck! Shit shit shit!

God how she wished someone invented time travel so she could go back fifteen seconds. She could probably make it to the back doors to the parking lot if she made a run for it. They haven't even had their first date yet and she just dropped a bombshell that is normally saved for people who've been together for like...a few months.

Angie winces and turns her gaze back to the floor. The very floor she wishes would open up and let her fall into. Tom's index and middle fingers gently tilt her head back up. Those tears she worked so hard to stop before spill over her waterline and cascade down her cheeks.

"Oh, love," Tom brushes the wetness away with the back of his knuckles gingerly, "please don't cry. I'm not upset with you. In fact, I'm flattered. It's been quite a long time since a woman has called me beautiful." He discreetly reaches down to hold her hand, "and it's never been said by someone as stunning as you."

Angie feels her heart skip a beat. He…he thinks she's stunning?

Before she can say anything, Tom does a quick sweep of the hallway to be sure there's no one that can see them. He smooths his thumb over her bottom lip and smiles softly before leaning down to press a sweet kiss to her lips. It only lasts a second, but it was by far the best second of her life.

"I'll see you tomorrow, my darling girl." He winks and turns on his heel leaving Angie there with wide eyes and flushed skin.

Holy shit he kissed her!

Jessy walks quickly to her locker and grabs what she needs to complete her assignments over the weekend. It's been the slowest Friday ever, but it's finally time to leave. She shoots Angie a quick text to let her know she'll meet her at the mall and heads to her car.

Since they both have dates tomorrow night, a special outfit is a must for both of them. Twenty minutes later she pulls into a free parking space next to Angie's car.

"JESSY! Oh, my god he fuckin' kissed me!"

Jessica had barely gotten out of her car when Angie told her the news, and she was ecstatic. "No way!" She grabs Ang's hands and they bounce in place with excitement, "girl when?! Tell me everything!"

She lets out a dreamy sigh and smiles. "You know how I drew that picture of him?" Jessy nods. "Well, Mrs. Stevens called him down to her class so I could give it to him. So, there we were, in the hallway, and I was so fuckin' nervous. God, was I nervous. He was so sweet with me though. He called me darling and waited patiently while I stuttered like an idiot. He was speechless, babe. He loved it."

She grins, "I knew he would, Ang."

Angie blushes, "there's more though. He told me he was honored that out of everything, I chose to draw him, and like a dumbass I told him I couldn't pass up on drawing the most beautiful person in the world."

Jessica gasps. "Oh, shit! How did he take that?"

"Well, I didn't see his initial reaction cause I immediately looked down at the floor, but he lifted my head and wiped my tears. He called me love and said that no one as stunning as me has ever referred to him as beautiful. Then," she bites her lip as the memory of his mouth on hers plays over and over in her head, "he looked around, kissed me for like a second, and then called me his darling girl!"

"Ahh! Ang! Oh, my god that's so cute! You two are freakin' adorable together, I swear!"

Angie hugs her and giggles. "You ready to buy something that's gonna knock our men off their feet?

Jessica nods and hugs her, "hell yeah! Let's do this!"

Two hours and eight stores later, both of them had their outfits tried on and bought. Angie picks a plaid blue and red skirt that sits about four inches above the knee, and a matching form-fitting shirt. Jessy decides on a short, simple, yet elegant, velvet burgundy dress. After that the girls eat a little snack at the food court together to tide them over before heading home to do their homework.

Lily sits Indian style on her bed and works on one of her journal entries for English Literature. Sebastian may be her teacher, but he never once treated her any differently from the other kids. Friday's topic was a free day, and she's trying to think of something to write about. All she can think about is Chris, and what he told her brother the other day. One part of her wants to know who the girl is that he's willing to take such a big risk for, and the other part of her doesn't. Lily knows it's not her. Why would it be? He's twenty-two years her senior and her teacher for God's sake. She sighs and begins to write about him anyway. It's not like Seb will guess who it is. Not if she's vague enough.

A couple of minutes later after she's done writing, she hears the front door open. That's odd...Seb normally hangs out with Chris on Saturday's… She thinks to herself.

"Lily? Hey, you home?"

She moves to lay on her stomach and starts playing Candy Crush on her phone. "In my room!"

Sebastian knocks lightly and peaks his head in. "So, I'm gonna need you to get changed into some jeans and a t-shirt that you don't mind potentially getting dirty."

She looks at him like he’s grown a third eye. "Um...what?"

He rolls his eyes. "Just...c'mon! We gotta leave in like," he checks his watch, "ten minutes."

Lily changes, even though she's thoroughly confused, and puts on some old tennis shoes. "Okay, I'm ready. So, what are we doin'?"

Sebastian shakes his head and opens the garage. "Can't tell ya! It's a surprise!"

"Ugh! You know how much I hate surprises, Seb!" She groans and slides into the passenger seat of his black Dodge Charger. He hands her a black bandana and smirks.

"Yeah, I know. Humor me and put that on. You're not allowed to see anything until we get there."

"Seriously?! Fine...but I get to pick what we listen to." Lily unlocks her phone and pulls up her favorite playlist on Spotify. "Here, I'll let you get it connected while I put this on."

Sebastian chuckles and takes her phone. "Remind me why I love you again?"

She pulls the ends of the bandana into a knot and adjusts it over her eyes. "Because I keep you sane, not to mention I'm the fun sibling."

"Whoa, hey now, wait a minute! I'm fun!"

Lily scoffs, "okay, mister 'the only thing I do for fun is hang out with Chris every Saturday' you keep tellin' yourself that. Speaking of him, why aren't you two having your normal bro night anyway?"

Even though she couldn't see him, Sebastian rolls his eyes as he pulls out of the driveway. "Well, I told you I would make it up to you for bailing on our movie night. Plus, he's got a date."

Lily feels a pang of jealousy flood through her chest. "Oh," she hates how she can't control the hurt tone in her voice, "that's good. I hope it goes well."

Sebastian glances over at her, immediately picking up on her change of mood. He leaves it alone for now since today is about her.

The drive is quiet, except for the music, and Lily finds herself thinking about Chris again. Well, she often thinks about him, but now she is imagining him with another woman. Honestly, she wishes she could just tell him how she feels so she can get his reaction. Maybe if he rejects her, then she will be able to get over him.

She sighs and closes her eyes. "Are we there yet? I feel like we've been in the car for over an hour now."

Sebastian stops the car and puts it in park, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Yeah, we're here. You can take off the bandana now."

Lily rips the fabric off her head and blinks to adjust to the light. Once she's able to see clearly, she gasps. "SKYDIVING?! Oh, my god! Sebby! Are you serious?!"

She looks at him with wonder and he laughs, "yeah, I'm serious! I know how long you've been wanting to do this, and I figured it was time for me to face one of my fears."

Lily unbuckles her seatbelt and throws herself over the center console to hug him. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!"

He pats her on the back, "does this make me the fun sibling now?"

"Don't push your luck, Shakespeare nerd." She pulls away and climbs out of the car. "C'mon! Let's go!"

Angie looks herself over in her bathroom mirror for the millionth time and fixes a stray piece of hair. You look fine. Jessy was right, he's gonna love it. She tries to reassure herself as she applies a bit of lip gloss. Checking to make sure she has her phone, charger, a change of clothes, and her toothbrush, she walks down to her car. Jessy and her had the bright idea to tell their parents they were staying overnight at the other one's house. You know, just in case things go well and they decide to sleep over.

It takes about thirty minutes to get to Tom's house, but she finally finds it. She's in awe as she parks in the driveway. It's a two-tone modern home, wood tone on the upper level and off-white on the lower. There's a balcony that wraps around and has glass paneling as a barrier. An inground pool sits off to the side of a wooden staircase.

She slings her backpack over her shoulder and makes her way to the front door. Her heels click against the asphalt and her heart thrums rapidly in her chest. Angie takes a deep breath and blows it out before knocking a few times. Seconds later, she hears footsteps and the lock clicks.

Tom opens the door and her eyes go wide. He's wearing a white button down shirt, the top two buttons undone, and a pair of black slacks that sit low on his hips. His hair is neatly tousled and his feet are bare. Ang is so busy checking him out that she doesn't see the way he's looking at her.

Tom stands rooted to the spot. He cannot believe how beautiful his girl looks. She's standing before him in a tight red top and short plaid skirt. Her hair is curled in loose waves, her light makeup a perfect touch to her flawless skin. He wants to devour her right there in his doorway.

"Ang…," he looks her up and down as he bites and licks his lips, you look amazing."

She blushes, "thank you. You look gorgeous, but you always do in my eyes." He takes her bag from her as she walks inside. "Wow, your house is beautiful."

He sets her things down and gently grabs her hand. "Come here, darling."

Angie spins around and looks up into his blue eyes. "May I kiss you?" He asks, his voice an octave lower than normal. She nods and he pulls her flush against his body. "I can't help myself when you look this stunning, love."

He cups Angie's cheek in one of his large hands and brings his mouth down to meet hers. She's shy, he can tell, but soon she's kissing him back with fervor. Her lip gloss tastes like cherries and it's intoxicating. Tom backs her up, presses her against the wall, and tightens his grip on her waist as she moans into his mouth. He doesn't want to, but he knows if he doesn't stop now their dinner will get cold.

He pulls away slowly and watches her. Ang is breathing heavily and her eyes are still closed. She's breathtaking.

"Are you thirsty? I've got water, wine, Coke, Sprite, and I think there’s a case of beer in the garage."

She opens her eyes and smirks. "I'm thirsty, but not for any of those things."

He stutters and feels his slacks tighten, "L-Love, we…," he nods toward the kitchen, "dinner…"

Angie grins mischievously and walks around to his other side. "You have a microwave, right?" He nods. "Well then…," she pushes him against the wall with her hands, "I say we skip dinner for now."

Tom curses under his breath as she drops to her knees in front of him. "Besides, I have," her fingertips brush the rather large tent in his pants, "what I want right here." Angie pops the button and pulls the zipper down, her panties getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, Ang…"

Tom's pants fall to his ankles and his hands shake as she lowers his boxers just enough to free him. His cock is painfully hard and she hasn't even touched him yet. Her small hand grips the base and he throws his head back.

"Darling...please…"

She runs her nails on the other hand down his thigh making him shiver. "I've never done this before, but I'll do my best to make it feel good." Tom's pretty sure anything Angie does will feel like heaven, but he nods anyway.

The moment her lips close over his flared tip, he lets out the prettiest moan she's ever heard. It only fuels her to take him deeper. He's longer than he is thick, but she still has to open her mouth pretty wide.

Once Angie has him about halfway she stops, not wanting to go any further in case she has a gag reflex. She trails her tongue tentatively along the underside of him and jumps a little when he thrusts forward slightly.

"My, god...s-sorry baby...fuck that feels good." He threads his long fingers through her hair and wets his lips. "Want me to show you how? I'll be gentle, love." She nods as best as she can and blinks her innocent doe eyes at him. He nearly comes undone at the sight.

His grip on her hair tightens and he begins to move her head up and down on his cock. Tom's eyes flutter closed, "oh, fuck! Darling, you're so good for me. So fucking good...mmm, yeah, move your tongue just like that, oh, my god…"

Angie is floored by the way he's talking to her. She had no idea she would get such satisfaction from praise alone, but coming from Tom it was music to her ears. She pushes back on his thighs and he let's go of her.

"Are you okay?" She shakes her head yes and kisses the tip of each finger on his right hand. "Fuck my mouth, please."

Tom feels his need for her ignite into a wildfire. "God… are you sure, love? I don't want to hurt you. Especially since you're new at this."

Angie kisses the tip of his cock, a bead of precum coating her lips, "please, baby? I want you to feel good."

He breathes a shuddering breath and swallows thickly. "Alright, love, but I want you to tap my thigh if it becomes too much. Now, open that sweet mouth for me, darling."

Angie obeys and Tom pushes his cock between her parted lips and doesn't stop until he feels her nails dig into his skin. "Shh, relax, love. Take - oh, shit! - deep breaths through your nose. Y-Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl, Ang. God, your mouth feels so good…"

She feels herself relax a few seconds later and Tom slides the remaining inches down her throat. He's panting, a thin coat of sweat covering his skin, and when he feels Angie swallow he about loses his mind.

“OH, FUCK! Ang...Ang oh, my fucking god!"

She wants more, no needs more, so she does the only thing she can think of and tries to move her head back and forth, but his grip on her is too strong. She whines softly when he pulls her hair.

"I know, love. Just...fuck...g-give me a second. I don't want to cum just yet.”

He evens out his breathing and starts a slow rhythm. He's trying to be careful, but the little moans she makes every time he slides down her throat are nothing shy of sinful. Angie swirls her tongue around him and he growls.

"Oh, s-shit! Ang, I...you're...oh, god!" He looks down at her with hooded eyes. "You're so perfect, darling. O-On your knees for me, taking my cock so well. I wish you could see yourself right now. So pretty…so good… fuck!"

Tom moans out her name and fucks her mouth a bit harder, the heat in his lower belly now a sea of molten lava.

"I-I...love, I'm...where do you...can I-?"

He can't even form a coherent thought, let alone speak, but Angie gets what he's asking her. She absolutely needs to taste him, needs to feel him come undone from her mouth. She does the first thing that comes to mind and grips his ass hard, pulling him forward. Tom groans and works his left hand into her hair next to his right.

"Fuck! Oh, you're amazing, darling. So good for me." He thrusts deep and squeezes his eyes shut, "shit I'm close, Ang! I-I'm...oh, darling I'm…unghh AHH!"

Tom's orgasm hits him like a Mack truck. His vision goes white and his legs shake while his cock pulses in her warm, wet mouth. Angie swallows everything he gives her and only pulls away when he releases the hold on her hair.

"Did I do okay?"

Her cheeks have tear tracks and her lips are swollen as she looks up at him through her lashes. Tom leans his head back on the wall behind him and chuckles breathily, "baby…that was…more than okay. I cannot believe that was your first time. God, I haven't felt that good in...well...ever."

He pulls her to her feet and tucks himself back into his boxers before kissing her hungrily. He can taste himself on her tongue, but he doesn't care. She's beautiful, and he never wants to let her go. He reluctantly steps back and pulls his pants back up over his hips.

"Shall we have dinner, my darling girl? Maybe afterwards I can return the favor."

She nods and bites her lip.

"Alright, why don't you have a seat and I'll dish everything up for us."

Jessica parks outside of Chris’s house just as her phone dings. She looks down and smiles when she sees it's him telling her the door's unlocked and she can just come in when she gets there. Her eyes look back up and admire how beautiful everything is. The house is a light beige color with very modern looking features. There's a lot of windows that are trimmed with a dark, ebony wood. A huge tree casts a shadow over the shrubbery and front walk-way, allowing the low lighting from the porch to give it a warm, cozy feel.

She locks her car, puts her keys in the front pocket of her bag, and takes a breath to calm her nerves. It's a warm evening and the leaves are beginning to turn autumn colors. Jessy approaches the front door and turns the knob, slowly entering his home. If she thought the outside was beautiful, then she wasn't prepared for the inside. It felt so inviting. The same ebony wood accented white furniture and walls, and everything had its place. Very pristine.

She smoothes her straightened hair and fixes her dress before calling out to make her presence known. "Chris?"

A moment later, his Boston accent echoes back to her. "In the kitchen, sweetheart!"

She sets her bag down by the door and follows the sound of his voice. Jessica finds him in an enormous state of the art kitchen. Modern appliances, a huge kitchen island with bar stools, and a wooden floor open up into an equally beautiful dining room. Chris stands facing the stove, his back to her as he stirs something that smells absolutely amazing.

He's casually dressed in dark jeans and a blue button down. "I hope you're hungry. I'm mak-" He stops mid-sentence as he turns around to face her, the spoon he's holding clatters to the floor.

"Sweetheart…," he breathes, "you look absolutely incredible…"

He walks over to her and slides his hands up her bare arms, "you got this dressed up for me?"

She nods and shyly bites her lip. "Yeah, I-I wanted to try and look pretty since you always look… well… amazing."

Chris’s eyes roam up and down her body, like he can't look everywhere fast enough. Her four and a half inch stilettos make her come up to just below his chin, and her makeup accentuates her eyes beautifully.

"Sweet girl, you're always pretty." He kisses her deeply, his body flush against hers as he licks into her mouth. "Honey, I'll end up eating you for dinner if I don't stop now." He smirks down at her and raises an eyebrow when her breath hitches. "Oh," he coos. "You'd like that, hm? Another time, I promise. I made my Mom's famous Cajun Chicken Alfredo and I can't wait for you to try it."

He brushes her cheek and goes back to the stove to finish up their food. He pours her a glass of red wine and pulls out the chair for her to sit down. "You look even more beautiful in the candlelight, sweetheart." He kisses her cheek and puts a plate of steaming hot pasta in front of her. "It's hot, so be careful, okay?"

Jessica nods. Thank you, Chris. This looks delicious."

They chat while they eat, getting to know one another better. Talking to Chris comes naturally. It feels like she's known him for years. She tells him about Shayly and Jameson, skipping the part about how she basically lived with them. Chris beams as he talks about his family. Jessy learns that he has three siblings. A younger brother Scott, an actor who's happily dating his boyfriend of two years, an older sister Carly who's also an actress, and a younger sister Shanna who's an aspiring author. He mentions that his Mom's an actress as well, and his Dad's a dentist.

Chris casually asks her about her parents and she tries not to show her grimace, but, of course, he picks up on it. "Jessy? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to.”

She shakes her head and looks at her half empty plate. "No, you didn't… I just… my childhood wasn't that great. 'S kinda why my Mom and I moved here."

Chris watches her push a noodle around with her fork, "do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" He takes her hand and she closes her eyes. "I know I need to. I haven't told anyone...not even Shayly. I just...I don't know if I can."

He stands up and holds out his hand, "come here, honey. Let's go sit down in my living room."

She lets him lead her to the other side of his house and smiles when she sees Dodger sprawled out on the floor. "Hey, buddy! Remember me?" He jumps up and wags his tail happily, "oh, you're so cute! Wook at your cute wittle face!"

Chris chuckles, his heart full of happiness at the sight of Jessy baby talking to his best friend. "I think I've been replaced. How could you, Dodge?! I give you everything and the moment a beautiful woman comes in the house I'm chopped liver. Typical." He's joking, of course, and grins when Jessica rolls her eyes playfully.

"Listen, babe, I can't help it. Dogs just get me, ya know?"

Chris tosses Dodger one of his favorite bones and sits down. "C'mere, baby. Come sit." He pats his thigh and gingerly pulls her into his lap. His thumb caresses her cheek, "you can tell me as much or as little as you need, sweetheart. I won't talk while you are. I'm here to listen, okay?"

Jessy plays with her hands, focusing on Dodge happily chewing away at his treat. "It's a long story, but I… I really feel like I can trust you with it. So many people have asked me to open up about it, but I've never wanted to. Not until I met you."

Chris takes one of her hands in his and kisses the back of her knuckles, sweetly. "I'm honored you feel that way, Jessy. I promise not to tell anyone anything you're about to tell me. Not even Sebastian or Tom."

She takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in her throat, preparing to tell him everything.

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"The earliest memory I have of my Father is from when I was four years old. He's actually my Step-Father. My real Dad died when I was a baby. Anyway, I was playing out on the back patio with my building blocks and heard him yelling at my Mom. I don't remember what it was about, but he was staggering and waving his hands around. My Mom was crying and he must have gotten sick of hearing her because I watched him hit her."

Chris began rubbing her back and she took a moment to collect herself. "It went on like that for years. He was always drunk, and my Mom worked two jobs to keep us from losing the house. H-He got fired and sat at home, just drinking in front of the TV. When um…" Jessy squeezes her eyes shut and tries desperately not to cry. Chris turns her in his lap so she's facing him and kisses her forehead, "you don't have to tell me, baby. It's okay." Jessica shakes her head, "n-no I-I need to. It's just hard reliving the memories."

Chris holds her waist and rubs his thumbs in the little divots of her hips, trying his best to comfort her. "When he wasn't black out drunk, he'd sometimes…," she closes her eyes and lets a couple of tears fall, "h-he'd sometimes touch me…," she whispers shakily. Chris’s grip tightens on her waist and he clenches jaw, but stays quiet so she can finish. "He never….actually um...put anything inside of me, but he touched me o-on the outside. I had to touch him too...he told me if I ever told anyone he'd k-kill me." Jessy was full blown crying now, but she needs this weight off her chest.

"My Mom doesn't know. No one does… except you. If I tried to um… to stop him he'd hit me or grab my face so hard that it left bruises. I wasn't physically strong enough to get away, so I just… I let him do those… things because I thought I had to. The sooner I complied, the sooner he'd get it over with and go to sleep." She sniffles and wipes at her cheeks, "the first time it happened I was five. It didn't stop until I was twelve.

He um… he lost interest in me when I...when I hit puberty. I still got hit when I made him angry though. My Mom got the worst of it, and when I was fourteen I started protecting her. I-I'd push her behind me a-and take the brunt of it. It was all the same to him. As long as he could take his anger out on someone, it didn't matter who it was." She takes a shaky breath and lets it out. "My mom finally filed for divorce a few weeks ago. That's why we moved here. To get away… from him."

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Jessy opens her eyes and looks into Chris’s. The emotion in them is overwhelming. She starts to softly sob and he moves his hands to her cheeks. "Shh, I've got you, honey. I'm so sorry you had to go through something so horrible. You have to know none of that was your fault. You know that, right?"

She nods and lets out a choked sob.

"You're safe now, baby. I won't let anybody hurt you ever again. I'm here now, and you're safe with me, sweetheart."

He dries her tears with the throw blanket draped over the couch and holds her close. "Will you kiss me?"

He nods, "I'll give you whatever you need, baby."

His kiss is careful, like she'll break if he's too rough. Jessy grips his shirt and deepens the kiss, trying hard to push the bad memories from her mind. He slides his right hand up her back until his fingers are embedded in her long red hair. She whimpers and shifts in his lap making him groan.

"Jessy… maybe we should stop. I don't want this to lead to something you're not ready for."

She whines and moves his free hand to her chest. "I need this… please, Chris? I wanna forget everything he did to me. Please make me forget…"

He pecks her lips and rests his forehead against hers. "Okay, whatever you need, love." He moves his hands up and down her sides, "how do you want to do this? Tell me what you need, honey."

Jessica rolls her hips and watches as his eyes flutter closed. "Is like this okay? I-I don't know if I'm ready for um...well for anything more than that."

Chris swallows hard, "yeah, that's fine, sweetheart. You wanna leave the dress on?"

Jessica bites her lip and sits back, crossing her hands so she can lift the velvety fabric over her head. Chris’s jaw drops. She's completely bare, no bra or panties, and he can feel himself harden instantly.

"Fuck...Jessy you're breathtaking," he breathes. "Look even more beautiful than I imagined."

She blushes and fumbles with the buttons on his shirt. "T-Thanks, but you're way more beautiful than me."

Chris frowns and mentally makes a note to talk to her about that comment later. Right now her pleasure is his priority. He helps her remove his shirt and watches as she marvels at his chest. Her small fingers trace one of his tattoos and it makes him shiver.

Tentatively, Jessy begins rocking her hips against him. Her lips are parted and every so often a soft moan fills the space between them. "Touch me," she whispers.

Chris gently flicks the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it harden under his touch. Jessica throws her head back and grinds down on him harder. "Chris! M-More...please…" He takes one of them in his mouth while he rolls the other between his fingers. Her moans are louder now, his jeans wet with her arousal.

"God, sweetheart, look at you. You're so pretty, movin' over my cock. That's it, just like that… mmm shit baby… you feel how hard I am? Could cum just watchin' you like this."

Jessy grabs his hair and pulls to give her more control as she quickens her pace. "Oh, Chris! Feels so good… fuck! Baby," her voice is a breathy moan as she looks into his eyes, "wanna make y-you feel good too."

He swipes his thumb along the seam of her lips and can't help the filthy noise he makes when she sucks it into her mouth. "Shit! J-Jessy…oh, sweetheart, trust me, watchin' you make yourself feel good is more than enough for me.”

She leans down to kiss and lick the skin on his neck and he raises his hips to meet hers. "That feel good, honey? You want me to keep movin' my hips like this?"

She whines and digs her nails into his biceps. "Yes! Don't stop…please...oh, god!"

She's dripping wet now, his cock leaking precum as she rocks her hips rapidly. The slight sting of denim against her clit sends jolt after jolt of heat through her body that gathers in her lower abdomen. It starts to simmer, slowly growing hotter by the second.

Chris kisses her, deep and passionate, guiding her hips so her soaked core glides over the head of his cock on every pass. She's ethereal to him. He can't believe this gorgeous woman finds this much pleasure in his body. Out of every woman he's ever been with, Jessica's the only one he's ever felt this strongly for. He isn't in love with her, no, he's not ready for that yet. It's too soon after Amanda, but she just...does something to him that he can't quite explain yet.

She whimpers and reaches for his right hand, "please…need you...wanna cum…"

His eyes roll back when she brings his fingers to her clit. "God! Honey, you're fuckin' soaked. I turn you on this much?" He moves his thumb in lazy circles making her legs shake. "C'mon, baby, that's it. You're close. Can hear how wet you are too. So damn pretty, baby."

Jessy clings to his shoulders and kisses him hard. Her mouth stumbles against his as her whole body begins to shake. "Oh, Chris," she breathes against his lips, "Chris I- oh, my god!"

He takes her lip between his teeth and bites down gently, "that's right, Jessica. Let go…come all over my cock, sweetheart."

Chris's words send her falling over the edge, her nails scratching down his arms as she throws her head back and screams his name. He holds her steady and works her through her orgasm making sure to draw it out as long as he can. Jessy grips his wrist and he finally pulls away as she rests her head on his bare shoulder.

"C-Chris," she half whines, half pants, "felt so good…"

He kisses her hair and runs his fingertips up and down her back. "Did so good for me, honey."

Jess pulls back to look down into his lust-blown eyes. It occurs to her that he's still very much hard, and she reaches down to cup him through his pants making him hiss. "Baby…what are you doin'?"

She giggles and kisses the tip of his nose. "Isn't it obvious? I wanna make you cum too."

His breathing gets heavier as she continues to stroke his clothed cock. "'M okay, Jessy. Y-You don't ha- fuck - have too."

She starts a trail of kisses down his chest as she moves to kneel on the floor in front of him. "Oh, but I want to. Wanna taste you."

She looks up at him with big eyes and he almost cums from that alone. "Please, handsome?"

Sebastian and Lily approach the hanger and greet their instructor cheerfully. "Hi! I'm Lily and this is my big brother, Sebastian."

The man smiles and shakes their hands. "We've been expecting you two! I've gotten quite familiar with Sebastian over the past couple of days. I'm Dean Wesson and I'll be your instructor today."

He points to four other people across the room, "these guys will be assisting you with your jump." Dean points from left to right, those two in the silver and black suits are Sam and Steve Hammond and the ones in the blue and white are Scott Leighton and Tommy King."

Dean goes over the basics with them. He gets Seb and Lily fitted into their own suits and helmets before bringing them into the gear room. "Okay, so here's a breakdown of all the different parts of your pack. When you're wearing it it'll be pretty snug. On the bottom right underside is the pull for your main shute. You'll reach back behind you to grab it and pull hard to release." Dean points to the left shoulder strap, "this is your reserve shute should your main one fail. The red pull on the right strap is what you'll use if your main shute gets tangled and you have to cut it away. Does that all make sense?"

The two of them nod and they sign a waiver before getting their packs fitted to their suits. All seven of them head to the plane and buckle themselves in for take off. Ironically, Lily learns that taking off is actually more dangerous than the dive. Once they're in the air, she glances over at Sebastian. He's putting up a front, but she can tell he's scared.

"Hey," she reaches for his hand and squeezes it, "you good?"

He gives her a tight-lipped smile and closes his eyes. "Yeah…, I'm good."

Lily frowns, "Seb, if you don't wanna do this-"

"It's alright, Lil. I told you I'd make it up to you, and I meant it. Even if I gotta do something that scares me to death. Anything to make my baby sister happy." He grins and pulls her into a side hug.

"Alright, folks! We're at fifteen hundred feet. Go ahead and remove your seatbelts and do a final check of your gear. Once you've triple checked everything you can put your helmet on."

After making sure they're all secure, Sam and Steve talk to Sebastian while Tommy and Scott prep Lily for her jump. She decides to go first and moves closer to the door. Once it's open, she waits for the signal. Tommy gives her the thumbs up and she steals a final look at her brother before jumping.

Scott grabs onto her left shoulder while Tommy takes the right. Because it's impossible to hear them at the speed they're falling, they use hand and arm signals to communicate. Lily has her arms out in front of her, slightly at an angle, with her fingers bent a little. Her knees are also bent and spread out, and it makes her look like one of those flying squirrels. Her head is up and back so she can keep the right velocity. Tommy instructs her to do a couple of practice pulls. She reaches back and barely tugs on the release of her main shute two times and he seems satisfied.

The ground is getting bigger now, and she briefly wonders if Sebastian is okay. She can't see him, but she hopes he's alright. He's her brother after all. A few minutes later Tommy gives her the go ahead to open her shute and she spreads her arms wide, sticks them in front of her, and reaches back behind her to grab the pull. This time, she tugs on it hard and a moment later she's jerked upwards as her parachute fully expands.

The view is unbelievable. Trees, roads, fields, and bodies of water, all of it is so small from here. Lily glances up and over her shoulder and smiles when she sees that Sebastian’s shute is also safely open. Her instructors point her left and she angles her body to turn. As the ground becomes closer, she leans back slightly, bending her legs just like she was taught. She touches down safely and rolls a little as her speed catches up to her. Her heart is racing and her whole body tingles with adrenaline.

Sebastian lands moments later and comes up to sit on his knees once he stops rolling. Lily takes her helmet off and unclips the pack from her suit. "Seb!" She runs towards him and crouches down as he removes his helmet. His eyes are closed and he doesn't look like he feels good.

Lily crouches down behind him and rubs his back as he gets sick. "Are you okay?"

He nods, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit. "Y-Yeah… I'm okay."

She helps him to his feet and begins to fold his shute up for him. "What did you think?"

He sways a little when he stands, trying not to throw up again. "Was it everything you thought it would be? Did I do well in making it up to you?"

Lily tucks it back into his pack and smiles wide. "That. Was. AMAZING! God, the rush, the wind in my hair, the view, it was better than I expected!"

She rolls up her parachute and grabs her gear before taking the short walk back to the main hangar. After they've put everything away and changed back into their normal clothes, they say their 'thank you's' and 'goodbye's' before heading back to Sebastian’s car.

They climb in and Lily turns to face him, "I can't believe you got sick you dork! It wasn't that bad, was it?" Lily picks fun at him playfully and Sebastian rolls his eyes.

"Alright, how about we go to the pet store downtown and hold tarantulas next?"

She shivers and crinkles her nose in disgust, "oh, hell no! That is not happening!"

Sebastian chuckles and pulls out of the lot onto the main road. "Mmkay, well, I'm gonna stop and get a Sprite since I feel like shit, do you want anything?"

Lily reconnects her phone to his Bluetooth and clicks on 'Guys my Age' before putting her seatbelt on. "Ooo! Can we get McDonald's cheeseburgers?"

He nods, "sure. Today's all about you, Lil."

Seb listens as she sings along to the song and can see that she's scrolling through her camera roll. He doesn't mean to, but in the process of looking to see if any cars are coming at a busy intersection, something catches his eye. It's a text message conversation. He can't make out the words because she's too far away, but he does see a familiar picture of him and Chris that he uploaded to Instagram a week or so ago.

Lily bites her lip and leans back against the headrest closing her eyes. This song always stirs up her feelings for Chris. Her and Ang are texting about her day and she told her about how she's the fun sibling. Angie didn't believe that all Seb does for fun is spend his Saturday's at Chris’s, so she sent her a recent photo of then from his Insta. She'd saved it to her phone gallery as soon as she saw it. Chris looks so good in it. He's wearing one of his tight t-shirts that leaves little to the imagination and it drives her crazy. The chorus comes on and she sings along with it, her mind picturing bluish-green eyes and a sweet smile.

Sebastian furrows his brows and glances over at his sister. She's singing and her mind seems far away. A thought crosses his mind, but he shakes it away almost instantly. It was silly anyway. They've been best friends since she was eleven and he'd always thought she'd look to him as another older brother. There's no way Lily has romantic feelings for Chris…right?

Tom walks back in the dining room and sets a plate down in front of Angie. It's her favorite, an omelette with American cheese, peppers, onions, and some salsa drizzled on top. He's paired it with some bacon and rye toast, and it makes her mouth water.

"Oh, this looks amazing! How'd you know it was my favorite?"

Tom laughs and takes a seat across from her. "I didn't. Omelets happen to be my favorite too, darling."

The two of them eat and play the game where one person asks the other a question and then they switch. "When's your birthday?" Tom asks and looks across the table at her. She points her fork at him and swallows her bite of food.

"Believe it or not, it's the same day as my favorite holiday. Halloween!"

His eyes widen, "that's so cool! Mine is February ninth. I was almost a Valentine's Day baby!"

"Alright, where were you born?"

He takes a sip of wine, "Westminster, London. I actually have dual citizenship which is good for when I go and visit my family."

Angie's eyes light up with wonder. "Wow! I've never been out of the country, but I've always wanted to go! I bet London is so pretty! I dreamed of seeing Big Ben and Buckingham Palace in person when I was a little girl."

"I'll take you, love"

Ang chokes on her wine making it nearly come out her nose. "I-I'm sorry? You'll what now?"

Tom reaches across the table and takes her hand in his, rubbing little circles, "I'll take you to London, Ang. I go at least twice a year and I haven't been since March. My mum will be calling me any time now demanding I come back to visit soon."

She stares at him, her jaw slack, "I… there's no way I can pay for that…"

He chuckles and shakes his head, "don't be silly. I plan on buying your ticket and everything else while we're there anyway."

"Tom," she whispers, "…I can't let you spend that much money on me."

He gets up and walks around the table, crouching down to her level. "Darling, please? I really want to do this." He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her lips, "besides...I can think of ways for you to pay me back. One's that don't involve money."

He winks and her cheeks flush. "Okay, you can take me to London, BUT only if you promise not to go overboard on the money you spend on me! Promise me." He stands and lifts her up, spinning around in a circle, "I promise, love."

He kisses her again, only this time with more passion. Angie wraps her legs around his waist while he carries her into his bedroom. It's very clean, a four poster bed, and it smells like him. That's all she gathers of her surroundings because the next second she's against the wall. Tom peppers kisses along her jaw, slowly moving to her neck. Angie moans and tilts her head back to grant him more access.

"Tom," she whines, "oh, god, please!"

He nips at the skin below her ear, "please what, love?" His clothed cock is putting delicious pressure on her clit making it hard to think, let alone breathe. "Wanna feel you… y-your - oh, my god - your fingers."

Tom's left hand tangles in her long, dark locks, while his right slides underneath her shirt. "Well, why didn't you just say so, my darling girl?"

He lifts her red shirt over her head and tosses it somewhere behind him. His eyes darken as they roam her newly exposed skin. "Absolutely stunning…"

His mouth leaves her skin burning hot wherever it touches and his big hands knead her breasts until her nipples are hardened peaks. "Tom! Need you...please 'm so wet…"

"Oh, I know you do," he delves his tongue into her mouth and moves it against hers, pulling away only when he needs air. "But I happen to love hearing your sweet voice beg for me, so, what do you think we should do about this?"

Angie whimpers and moves her hand down to slide up her skirt. Tom catches her wrist before she can touch herself, pinning her arms above her head. "I don't recall giving you permission to do that, love."

She lets out a frustrated moan, her chest heaving as she gives him a desperate look. "Tom, please! Oh, god...please please touch me! I need it, baby. Wanna cum for you. I'll do anything! Just, please...don't leave me like this!"

He pulls down her bra and takes one of her hard nipples between his teeth. She cries out and tries to move her hips to gain any sort of friction, but her attempts are unsuccessful. He has her pinned effortlessly, allowing her little to no movement, and it makes her dizzy with want.

"You want these, darling?" He shows her his hand and smirks. "Want me to fuck you with my fingers until you're begging me to let you cum?"

She nods rapidly, "Yes! Fuck...please! Need it so bad!"

Tom is pretty sure he can cum just from watching her like this. All needy and desperate for his touch. She's so fucking beautiful, and even more so with flushed skin and hooded eyes. He can feel how wet she is through his pants and it makes his cock twitch. He moves a hand up her side and cups one of her breasts, squeezing until Angie's eyes flutter shut. He still has her hands pinned with his left, so he slides his right up her inner thigh. His touch is light, barely-there, and he bites his lip when her skin becomes covered in goosebumps.

The closer he gets to her pussy, the faster she breathes, and when his index and middle fingers brush her wet panties he groans. "God, baby…these are soaked through. You really want my fingers that badly, hm?"

All she can do is whimper, but he gives in anyway. Tom pushes them to the side and glides his fingers back and forth through her arousal. The noises she's making are his motivation. He knows she's still a virgin and even though he thinks she's wet enough to take two of them, he starts with one.

Carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside of her and hums low and primal at how tight she is. "Such a good girl, Ang. All warm and snug around me. That feel good, love?" He watches as she shakes her head and licks her lips. "You want more, baby? Think you can take two?" Another nod. "Say it, precious girl. Tell me you want it."

Angie is certain that she will die if Tom doesn't make her cum in the next five minutes. At this point she'd walk a tight rope over the Grand Canyon for this man to fuck her. "I w-want it, Tom! Fuck...I can't...I need… shit, baby...please!"

He lets out a breathy laugh and slides his index finger through her folds a few times before pushing it in beside his other digit.

"Oh, my god! Oh, feels so good!"

He slowly starts to move them in and out, the sound of her wetness filling his room. "Mmm, yeah, baby? I'm glad it feels good. I can't wait to see how pretty you look when you come undone in my arms. You'll be nothing short of breathtaking, I'm sure."

He goes a bit faster and curls them slightly, searching for the spot he knows will drive her wild. Tom knows he finds it when she suddenly cries out, her juices beginning to drip down his hand.

"There it is, love. You sound so fucking pretty when you moan my name...makes me wanna cum just watching you like this, Ang." He pumps his fingers faster and pulls her into a kiss. Her body's shaking as she whimpers into his mouth. "Are you close, darling? I want you to cum, baby. C'mon, be my good girl and cum for me."

Angie has never felt pleasure like this in her life. She's touched herself before, but it's never felt like this. Hell, she didn't even know that spot existed until his thick fingers began rubbing it. Now that she knows it's there and how fucking good Tom is, she's addicted. She can feel her walls begin to clench and when his thumb moves over her clit she loses it.

"Tom! Tom! Oh, fuck, TOM! I… I… g-gonna cu-OH, FUCK!"

She throws her head back and cries out his name over and over like a mantra, her cum thoroughly soaking his hand. Her legs are shaking so hard that she'd have collapsed if he wasn't holding her up. Once she can think somewhat straight again, she opens her eyes and bites her lip as she watches Tom put his fingers in his mouth.

"Holy shit…"

It's all she can say, but he seems to understand.

"Sweetheart, you look a little restricted there." Angie gestures to his pants and bites her lip. "How about I get on my knees again, but this time you make yourself cum...while I watch…"

Tom almost does from her words alone. He watches as she kneels in front of again, looking at him with those innocent brown eyes.

"'M not gonna last long, love. Not with you looking up at me like that."

He takes himself out of his slacks and puts his left hand on the wall, slowly starting to pump himself with the right. "Shit…you look so sexy when you cum, baby. Love the sounds you made while I fucked that sweet pussy - mmm, fuck - with my fingers.

Angie drags her nails down his thighs and watches his mouth drop open. Tom's hand moves faster, twisting slightly when he slides over the flared head. She wants to taste him again, the salty, bitter tang of him becoming something she knows she'll crave.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let me taste you again."

Tom growls and grabs a fistful of her hair. "Open."

Angie obeys immediately and a second or two later he throws his head back, her name falling from his lips as he spills into her mouth.

She makes sure not to miss a drop, closing her lips around the tip of his cock until he's too sensitive to handle it anymore. He's hunched over still, sweaty and panting, and Angie can't believe how sexy he looks like this. She rises to her feet and kisses him deeply.

"Did so well for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

Tom lets out a shaky breath and opens his eyes. "You're gonna be the death of me, love," He smiles lazily.

Since he's already partially undressed, Tom strips completely and throws on a t-shirt and sweats. "I don't know how long you plan to stay darling, but you can borrow some comfortable clothes if you want."

Angie goes on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, "actually…Jessy and I kind of already have things covered."

He rests his hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

She grins innocently, "well, see, Jessy also had a date tonight. Her and Chris are probably gettin' nasty just like we were, but anywho, she and I already told our parents that we were staying at the other's house."

Tom laughs and shakes his head. "You two are something else. Alright then, I'll let you pick out something to wear, and I'll make some popcorn for us to eat while we watch a movie."

Chris is about to lose his mind from the way Jessy's begging to go down on him. Her brilliant hazel eyes stare up at him as he swallows. "Okay, sweetheart. Let me take these off."

She scoots back and waits patiently while he takes his pants and boxers off, tossing them on the nearby chair carelessly.

Jessy tugs on his hand until he gets down on the floor with her. Dodger has moved to Chris’s bed so they have more room to spread out.

"Honey, why are we on the floor?"

"'Cause I want you to lay down. I wanna be able to touch all of you." She gently pushes him until he's laying on his back. His left hand cradles her cheek as her petite body hovers over his.

"Jessica…you know you're beautiful, right?" Chris brushes her hair back gingerly and admires her lovingly.

She casts her eyes down to his chest and draws little shapes with her fingertips. "Sweetheart, look at me."

She hesitates, and when she does, her eyes pool with tears. "I...I've never once felt like I was even remotely pretty. Every time I look at myself in the mirror I...I feel dirty." She blinks back tears and tries to sit up, but Chris’s grip is to strong. "I-I can't...I can't wash it off."

His heart constricts painfully at how broken she sounds. "What can't you wash off, baby?"

She lets out a choked sob, "h-him...all the times he… when he… I-I can't make it go away…"

Chris pulls her to his chest and turns them so she's laying on her side. "Shh. I've got you, sweet girl. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him. Not ever. You believe me, right?"

Her lip quivers and she inhales sharply. "Yes, but I don't understand why you even want me…," she closes her eyes and buries her head in the crook of his neck.

Chris holds her while she softly cries and pets her hair. "Jessy, why on Earth would you think such a thing? Why wouldn't I want you?"

"I'm tainted…"

Her voice is so small, almost inaudible. He wouldn't have even heard her if she wasn't this close to him. The moment the words leave her mouth he feels his heart break. He gently rolls her onto her back and props himself up on his arm.

"Oh, honey, no. Don't you dare think that way. Look at me, baby. I need you to look at me when I tell you this."

Jessy opens her eyes reluctantly and wipes the mascara off her cheeks.

"Jessica, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She shakes her head no, and he frowns. "Yes. You. Are," he enunciates every word and kisses her lips gently. "The moment I laid my eyes on you at the park my whole world stopped. I had no idea anyone could be so damn pretty. I've been on this planet for forty years, and I've had my fair share of relationships. Hell, I'm a widower, baby."

Jessy's eyes snap up to his and her tiny hand caresses his cheek. "Chris…"

He silences her with another kiss. "I'm okay, sweetheart. She was sick, and as much as I wished she could stay, I didn't want her to suffer anymore." He kisses her forehead before continuing. "I'm telling you all of this because out of everyone I've ever been with, you are the only woman who's ever made me truly believe angels exist. I don't care how long it takes, but I will spend every day showing you just how beautiful you are...well, for as long as you'll let me anyway. I'll try my hardest to never hurt you."

Jessy gives him a tearful smile and kisses him hard. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for being honest, honey. Now, I know you were dead set on continuing our little escapade, but I'm pretty tired. Can you sleep over? I don't wanna let you go just yet."

She nods and giggles, "yeah, about that, Angie and I kind of told a white lie."

He tilts his head in confusion, "what did you girls do this time?"

She rubs his chest and plays with the hair being mindful not to pull it. "We told our parents that we were staying at each other's houses since we both had dates tonight. She's probably suckin' face with Tom right now," she lets out a laugh and smiles up at him.

Chris beams at her, "there's my favorite smile. Well, I'm glad Tom's gettin' some too. I swear, that man's been single the entire time I've known him." He stands and scoops her up into his arms. "Ahh! Chris! I can walk, ya know."

"I know," he winks, "I just decided I'd rather carry you." Dodger lifts his head and shakes it back and forth, his tail wagging happily. "Hey, buddy, we gotta share the bed tonight, okay? Jessy is sleepin' over and you're gonna have to let her sleep in the middle. He yawns and curls up at the foot of the bed. "Good boy, Dodge."

Chris lays Jessy down and climbs under the covers beside her, pulling her into his arms again. "I had a wonderful evening and I'm excited to spend the day with you tomorrow," he whispers and kisses her lips softly.

"Me too," she snuggles closer and lays her head on his chest, his heartbeat thumping rhythmically against her temple. It only takes a few minutes before he hears her breathing even out, and he holds her a little tighter before closing his own eyes.

"Goodnight, sweet girl."

#j snow writes #golden lines chapter five #golden lines #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan x ofc #sebastian stan smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddeston x ofc #tom hiddleston smut #real person fiction #rpf

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 6

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 3,308

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm getting excited to finish up the series. Four chapter left and so far it seems like the story is staying on track, and it shouldn't go over. (But you never know! 😁) Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging this series! It means SO much! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N felt her heart beat triple time as she watched Dean’s face return to the stony granite it had been when she’d first come to camp. Over the last couple of months she'd begun to see him soften slightly; there were even a few moments where he’d seemed on the verge of smiling. His eyes had eventually lost their frosty hardness, and their look of perpetual suspicion.

But both were back with a vengeance now.

She shook her head at him again and tried to understand what he was talking about. “What kind of psychic am I?” She asked, the question conjuring up an urge to laugh. The idea of her having psychic abilities was laughable to her. But she didn’t think Dean would appreciate the humor around it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I haven’t done anything, and I certainly have no psychic powers.”

Dean said nothing, just shuffled sideways towards the door without taking his eyes off of her. Y/N took a few steps towards him, but froze when his hand dropped to the pistol on his thigh and he hissed at her. “Stay back.”

She felt Emma come up and hide behind her leg and her daughter's renewed fear made anger start to burn in Y/N’s chest. In the last few weeks that Dean had been coming to dinner, Emma had been gradually losing her fear of him, offering him shy smiles and even bringing him one of her books and asking him to read to her.

But now Y/N could feel her tremble slightly and frustration flared in her. What was Dean doing? And why? Because her mother had died in a fire when she was a baby? What kind of logic was that? Where was all this insanity coming from?

Dean walked to the entrance of the cabin and called to Patrick. When the soldier appeared in the doorway Dean spoke to him brusquely.

“Go get Castiel.”

Patrick looked back and forth between Dean and Y/N and frowned at the obvious tension. “Sir?” He questioned.

“Now.” Dean said with finality. As the man turned to leave Dean spoke again. “And send Risa in here.”

Dean continued to stare at Y/N, keeping his attention intensely fixated on her, the way he’d done during those first few days she’d been there. When Risa came into the cabin she frowned; like Patrick, she could clearly sense the hostility in the room.

When Dean saw her he nodded towards Emma. “Take the kid.”

Panic suffused Y/N and she began shaking her head. Emma clutched tightly to her leg and began crying and whimpering softly. She shook her head and buried her face in Y/N’s hip. “No, mommy.” She hiccuped softly.

“Take her.” Dean said quietly but firmly. There was a pause for a moment as Risa’s eyes lingered on Emma and Y/N before she shook her head.

“No.”

Dean turned his head slowly to look at his soldier, his expression incredulous and furious at the same time.

“Excuse me?” He said softly, and Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine.

Risa looked away for a moment, clearly intimidated by Dean's anger. But when she looked back at him, her brow was crinkled and she still questioned his demand.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I gave you an order, soldier.” was Dean's softly spoken reply.

Risa stared at Dean a moment longer before she took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly and forcefully, turning and walking towards Y/N and Emma.

Emma started crying in earnest and Y/N knew that no matter what, she had to try and ease her daughter’s fear. She got down on her haunches and smoothed back Emma’s fly away hair. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” She smiled brightly at her, desperately trying to erase all her own fear and anxiety about what was happening.

“Dean and I are just gonna be here for a little while trying to figure out some boring grown up stuff.” Y/N’s happy smile seemed to be fooling Emma slightly because her tears were slowing and she sniffled.

Y/N kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you let Risa take you to see Keisha and Julianne. It will be so much more fun to play with them for a while, rather than staying here and listening to boring grownups talking. And I’ll come pick you up later, okay? I promise.”

She felt awful making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, but she wanted to believe she would be picking her up later, and she wanted Emma to lose the look of panic in her eyes.

She nodded towards Risa. “Go on now, and have fun playing. I’ll see you soon.” She kissed her forehead and gave her another bright smile.

Emma nodded, still obviously unsure, but willing to believe what Y/N was telling her.

Y/N kept her happy smile in place until Emma was out the door and then her mask dropped and she looked at Dean, her eyes accusing.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked quietly.

Before he could answer, Castiel walked through the door. Like the others, he seemed to notice the tension immediately and questioned it.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean motioned for Y/N to move backwards. “Sit down.” He said, with a gesture towards the folding chair she’d been sitting on to read the story. When she did, Dean turned his head towards Castiel, but never took his eyes off of her.

“I know why she’s immune.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch. “You do?” She asked, some of her anger burning away from pure shock. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Though she still had no idea what this had to do with her mother’s death.

But evidently it was connected, because the angel’s eyes widened in disbelief as Dean continued. “Her mother died in a fire when she was a baby.”

It was to her that Castiel looked for an answer. “Is that true, Y/N?” She nodded. “My God.”

“Will someone please explain what my mother dying has to do with anything?” Y/N asked with immense frustration.

But the men ignored her for the moment. Dean was finally looking at the angel properly and he nodded at the questions in his blue eyes.

“Yeah, she’s a psychic kid. She’s immune, just like Sam was.”

“Who is Sam?” Y/N asked, but was ignored again.

Castiel was shaking his head. “Maybe…” He looked back towards her briefly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Dean scoffed. “Come on Cas! This is way too big a coincidence to be…coincidental.”

Cas nodded reluctantly and then frowned. “But, if she's psychic...then what’s her gift?”

Both men turned to stare at her, and Dean spoke softly. “That’s a real good question. Because she could be doing anything to us, mind controlling us, or manipulating us to only see what she wants us to.”

Y/N finally did let out a bark of laughter. “Are you insane? You think I’m mind controlling you? If I had the power of mind control, I’d definitely make you be nicer, or I’d make you let me go, because this whole thing is ridiculous! And you still haven’t explained why on earth you think I’m psychic and why my mother’s death is involved.”

Dean stared at her for a long time, and Cas just watched him. Finally Dean spoke and his voice was calm and even, as though he was just telling her a story while they sat around her table eating dinner.

“Ten years before you were born, your mother or father made a deal with a yellow-eyed demon. They got something they desperately wanted and he got permission to enter their house. When you were six months old he came into your room, slit himself open and bled into your mouth. Your mother likely interrupted him somehow, and he killed her and burnt the place down around her.”

Y/N felt her stomach turn at Dean’s words. He had to be insane, there was no way it could be true. Demon blood? A demon killed her mother? She shook her head.

“How on earth could you possibly know any of this?”

“Because it’s exactly what happened to my mom, and my brother. The demon fed him his blood, killed my mom, and when Sam turned 22 he started having psychic visions. And he wasn’t the only psychic kid. There were a bunch of them, and without fail every single one of them had powers and every single one of them went bad.”

His jaw clenched and he folded his arms over his chest. “So, if you’re gonna sit there and try and tell me that you’re the only one that never had the blood take hold, the only one who managed to avoid being triggered when you turned 22? Well, then I know you’re lying. So, I’ll ask you one more time.”

His eyes were chips of ice once again. “What can you do? And what have you done already?”

Y/N blew out a puff of exasperation. “I can’t do anything, do you hear me? I am not psychic! I have no powers!”

Cas stepped forward, putting himself between the two of them. “Okay, Y/N, have you ever felt something, something that made you different from other people? Like,” he snapped his fingers, “the ability to connect easily with people maybe? You seem to make friends quickly, people respond to you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “So being a nice person makes me a psychic now?”

Cas shook his head. “No, but maybe it’s more than you being nice, maybe people can’t help but like you. It could be involuntary on both their part and yours. Like some sort of psychic charisma”

Cas seemed to like his idea, his expression saying that he thought he’d figured it out.

But Y/N was again shaking her head. “No, look, that’s not true. I’ve had lots of people not like me, I’ve had people try to kill me in my sleep just to steal my blanket, I’ve had men attack me just for…well, for being a woman. And I can promise you I didn’t get away from those people by smiling at them and asking nicely.”

Y/N felt the old fears rise in her as she remembered the panic and terror of those moments and so many more like them. To think that she had some kind of mind control or psychic abilities and hadn’t used them then, was laughable.

Cas looked slightly defeated and Dean pushed him aside. “The fact is though, that you could be lying through your teeth, you could be saying anything to knock us off your scent.”

Y/N scowled at him and then stood up. Dean stepped back, and yanked Cas back by his shoulder. “Sit down.” He ordered her but she shook her head.

“This is ridiculous, Dean. You have to know it is.” She took a step towards him. “What about our…our friendship? What about what happened last night?”

Dean’s eyes just got colder and his voice was deep and demanding. “I said, sit down. Now!”

“Dean.” Y/N began and stepped closer again, reaching out to him. But she stopped dead and dropped her hands to her sides as Dean pulled his gun from its holster in the span of a breath.

“I said get back, and sit down.” He said, slow and deliberate.

Y/N looked at the gun pointed at her, looked at Dean holding it, his hand not wavering an inch, and she was suddenly, unbearably sad. She stared at him and knew her heartbreak was plastered on her face, she was bad at concealing emotions.

She nodded slowly and moved back to sit in the chair. She had lied to Emma; she wouldn’t be picking her up tonight.

***

The night passed just as her first night in camp had; with her sleeping lightly, troubled by disturbing dreams and waking to find Dean watching her almost unblinkingly. He took her to the outhouses on his own this time, and she wasn’t in chains so, that much had changed. But his hand hovering over his gun the whole way there and back definitely felt binding, and kept her locked in place just ahead of him.

When they got back to the cabin Dean walked over to the door and said something quietly to whoever was just outside. A few minutes later Theresa arrived with breakfast. She looked at Y/N back in her spot on the floor by the table leg and her young face creased in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” She asked Y/N with a look thrown at Dean.

Y/N tried to smile and put her student’s mind at ease. “Nothing, sweetie. Just trying to sort something out. Tell your mom thank you for the breakfast, but I’m not hungry. You should take that back to her so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Eat it.” Dean’s voice rang out with authority and Theresa took a step closer to Y/N.

Y/N didn’t bother looking at him. Instead she gave Theresa a reassuring nod and the girl bent to set the tray on the ground. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ll probably be hungry later.”

But she wasn’t. She felt guilty enough about wasting food to try and swallow some down, but it just stuck in her throat and she gagged on it and spit it out. At lunch Brandy brought the food tray and she was slightly more vocal with her questions than her daughter was.

“What the hell is going on here?” She asked Dean. “All the parents are confused and worried. They said you ordered them out of here yesterday and no one has seen Y/N since; Emma’s back with Monique.”

She set the lunch tray on the table Y/N leaned against and bent to pick up the uneaten breakfast tray. She was looking at Y/N, but still addressing Dean when she spoke. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” Dean answered brusquely.

Brandy stood to her full height and her large chest rose and fell with indignation. “Since when do you keep me out of the loop?”

Dean frowned at her and his voice was laced with annoyance and anger. “Since this isn’t something that requires your attention. And I’d like to know, exactly when did everyone start questioning my orders?”

Brandy shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his foreboding tone. “I guess when your orders started to seem stupid.”

Y/N’s eyes grew round, beyond impressed at the woman’s boldness and nerve. Dean seemed much less impressed by it though, staring the woman down with a furious expression. But Brandy kept his gaze and never wavered. Finally Dean spoke through gritted teeth.

“Take away the tray, and send someone else with the supper tray.”

Brandy stayed still until Dean took a step towards her and yelled, “That is an order!”

Brandy shook her head, but turned towards the door as she answered. “Don’t forget, boss, not all of us are your soldiers. Some of us follow you because you’ve been a good leader.” She paused at the door and looked back at him. “Don’t fuck that up.”

She walked out, leaving behind an electric buzz of tension in the air. Dean turned back to her and the muscle in his jaw was still jumping.

“Eat.”

But Y/N shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit!” Dean said bitingly. “You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. You have to be hungry. I don’t know what kind of hunger strike, sympathy ploy you’re going for here, but it’s not gonna work. Now, eat!” He ended on a shout and something snapped inside Y/N.

She jumped to her feet and yelled back. “This isn’t a sympathy ploy, you bloody dumbass! I can’t eat the food because it tastes disgusting to me and it chokes me. My stomach is in knots and I feel sick! And do you know why that is? Because you keep threatening to kill me!”

Dean thundered towards her, stopping barely two feet from her. “Yeah, and I’m not gonna have you starve to death before I get the chance! Now eat!”

Y/N threw her arms wide. “What the hell do you care if I starve! It’ll just save you a bullet!”

She took a deep breath, feeling herself unraveling but unable to stop. “You have me locked up in this place, again! You think I’m some kind of horrible monster. Again!” Her voice broke. “You have taken my child away from me! Again! So don’t pretend to give a shit about my fucking health and wellbeing!” She reached out to furiously smash the food tray to the ground.

Silence descended and Y/N breathed hard and heavy through her nose, her anger carrying her through a little longer before she turned away from him and buried her face in her hands, quiet, uncontrollable sobs shaking her.

By the time she managed to get herself under some kind of control, she turned around to see that Dean was gone. She looked around the room as though he might be hiding in plain sight, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Y/N walked over and fell down onto the chair he'd sat in all night. She felt exhausted and deflated. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but it felt like ages before Cas walked through the door. He looked solemn and he nodded at her.

“Dean says that you should go.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “He’s kicking us out?”

Cas held up a hand. “Oh, no! Not…he didn’t say for you to go from camp. I mean that he said for you to go from here. Go get your daughter, go back to your tent. That kind of go.”

Y/N shook her head, more confused than ever. “I don’t understand. Now, suddenly he doesn’t think I’m some kind of psychic menace?”

Cas shrugged. “Psychic yes, but menace no. He said, and I quote, ‘She was pissed enough to take off my head if she could have, and she didn’t, so she can’t.’” He shook his head. “Occasionally his thought process is hard to follow.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

She didn’t waste anymore time right then, though, contemplating Dean’s bizarre behavior; she was free to go and she ran to get Emma, apologizing for taking longer than she said she would to come get her.

Emma forgave her easily for not keeping her promise, relief clear in her big, deep cerulean eyes. They spent the evening cuddling in the tent; Y/N read her a dozen books and played clapping games with her until Emma’s eyes were shining again, and no more fear or worry clouded them.

At bedtime she sang her a song and Emma drifted off to sleep happily; Y/N found no such easy reprieve. She laid awake for hours trying to understand Dean and the way he thought. He’d been so angry, so sure of her wickedness and evil. And then, just like that, because she’d exploded in anger, he let her go?

How did that man’s mind work? And how did he see her now? Harmless psychic freak? Or someone he’d still have to keep a close eye on?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter, he’d made himself perfectly clear on one thing, the relationship she’d thought they had, the friendship that she’d hoped would grow into more had meant nothing to him. The kiss they’d shared had meant nothing.

She meant nothing. He couldn't have acted the way he did if he cared about her at all.

She needed to remember that going forward and not let her heart get entangled so easily.

From now on, she needed to keep her distance.

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